The expulsion was conceived in sin and carried out in iniquity, its sole purpose being plunder, as the country and wealth of the Acadians would then fall to the English. Lawrence himself is accused of profiting greatly.
In other words, it was a plain case of highway robbery, the only excuse being trumped up charges against the inhabitants to the effect that they were plotting against the English. These appear to have had no foundation in fact, as has been amply proved by recent discoveries in the archives of England and France. Under such circumstances it was one of the most brutal cases of rapine, even for those rough times, that can be found in history.
The little basin, known as Wolfville Harbor, offered my best opportunity for noting the tremendous rise and fall of the tide, though the basin itself is not deep enough to show the extremes. Just outside, the greatest difference between high and low water, the extremes only occurring in spring and fall, is 55 feet 6 inches. But every full or new moon there is a high tide that comes within a very few feet of these figures. While interesting to see once, the vast expanse of yellow mud and the thick muddy water which surges back and forth destroy the beauty of the waterside; its novelty is the only attraction.
For my ride to Grand-Pré I asked for a talkative driver who knew the country and its story, and was given one who filled my soul with great content.
Before arriving at the points of interest he told of two ghosts seen by his father when a young married man—he himself, of course, does not believe in ghosts, though it is hard to explain their appearance to others. One brilliant, moonlight night, when the ground was covered with snow, father, while on his way to convoy his wife home from a neighbor’s in Wolfville, saw two men come out of the woods and pass through the fence to the road, neither climbing over it nor letting down the bars, but as a puff of smoke might pass. These started down the road a short distance ahead of him, but made no noise on the hard, frozen snow, while his shoes made the orthodox crunching sound as shoes should on flesh and blood feet. He even stopped a moment in order to assure himself of their quiet progress. Whether he moved at a lively pace or slow, the figures kept the same distance ahead of him, and even when he broke into a run he was unable to overtake them. At last they turned in toward a house, went up to the front door and disappeared. Not having any fear of ghosts, father followed, but found the door locked. He then passed around to the back, to find the door there locked as well, made some effort to arouse the people, but without success, and finally went on his way. At this time a man lay sick in the house who eventually died, and the ghost-seer always believed that these had something to do with that event, though unable to surmise how one man could have two ghosts, as this was long before the days of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. It seems highly probable that the sick man had a double personality, and that he was entitled to these two spirits, who were identical in appearance and bearing. This is the first time, so far as my knowledge goes, that such a circumstance has occurred, but the more one thinks on the subject the more reasonable does it seem.
At first we drove out on high land overlooking the Gaspereau Valley, a sight well calculated to please the lover of the beautiful. This valley is a noted apple growing region, shipping about $60,000 worth of the fruit during a normal year. Apples and potatoes are the chief product of this part of the country, and my driver stated that the apple growers are prosperous and that few of the orchards are mortgaged. All fruit has been shipped to England heretofore, but the present Democratic free trade antics of the United States will probably result in much of it being sent to the nearer market to the detriment of its apple growers; let us hope that they were among those who helped mount the schoolmaster on the donkey’s back at the late election, and that they will but receive their deserts. More talk on this subject might be regarded by the powers that be as apple-sauce, and in the interests of harmony we will desist from further comment.
Near the mouth of the Gaspereau River is the historic landing place where the deportation of the helpless Acadians was consummated.
After following down the river for a space we turned to the left and mounted another hill, from the summit of which one may look down on the village of Grand-Pré (great prairie). Before beginning the descent we passed the Scotch Covenanter Church, erected in 1804, which still retains its box pews and high pulpit.
At the foot of the hill we came out on the meadows which were salved from the sea the better part of three hundred years ago. Here stood the chapel in which the Acadian men were held prisoners until they could be placed on board the transports; the locality over which Longfellow has woven such a spell of romance.
The site of the chapel, priest’s house and burial ground was originally an island in the salt marsh; now it is merely a gentle elevation on the edge of the meadow.