The eastern termination of the Grand Portage road, is at Lake Timiscouta, where is situated a pleasant hamlet of Canadians, and a picketed fort, which is now abandoned. The views from this spot are unique and exceedingly beautiful, particularly a western view of the lake, when glowing beneath the rays of the setting sun. The Indian word, Timiscouta, signifies the winding water, and accurately describes the lake, which has a serpentine course, twenty-four miles long, and from two to three wide. Excepting the cluster of houses already mentioned, there is not a single cabin on the whole lake; and the surrounding mountains, which are, perhaps, a thousand feet high, are the home of solitude and silence. The only vessels which navigate this lake are Indian canoes, paddled by Canadians. Not only does the isolated settler depend upon them for the transportation of his provisions, but even the English nobleman, when travelling in this region, finds it necessary to sit like a tailor in their straw-covered bottoms.
The only outlet to Lake Timiscouta, is the Madawaska River, which is but a contraction of the same water, but reduced to the width of a stone’s throw, and leading to the St. John’s, a distance of some forty miles. The meaning of Madawaska, as I am informed, is, never frozen; and the river obtained this name from the fact that certain portions, on account of the current, are never ice-bound. The scenery of the river is precisely similar to that of its parent lake, only that it is occasionally a little cultivated. The waters of both are clear, but not very deep or cold. They abound with fish, of which the common trout, the perch, and pickerel, (not pike), are the more valuable varieties.
The manner in which I sailed through Timiscouta and Madawaska, was exceedingly pleasant, if not peculiar and ridiculous. My canoe was manned by a couple of barbarous Canadians; and while they occupied the extreme stern and bow, I was allowed the “largest liberty” in the body thereof. It was an exceedingly hot day when I passed through; and having stripped myself of nearly all my clothing, I rolled about at my own sweet will, not only for the purpose of keeping cool, but that I might do a good business in the way of killing time. At one moment I was dipping my feet and hands in the water, “humming a lightsome tune of yore,” and anon sketching the portrait of a mountain or a group of trees. Now I lay flat upon my back; and while I watched the fantastic movements of the clouds, as they crossed the blue of heaven, I attended to the comforts of the inner man, by sucking maple sugar. Now I called upon the boat-men to sing me a song: and while they complied with my request, I fixed myself in the poetical attitude of a Turk, and smoked a cigar. At one time we halted at a mountain spring, to obtain a refreshing drink; and at another, the men pulled up to some rocky point, that I might have the pleasure of throwing the fly. Thus “pleasantly the days of Thalaba went by.”
My voyage down the Madawaska was not without a characteristic incident. There was a fleet of canoes descending at the same time; some of them laden with women and babies, and some with furs, tin kettles, and the knapsacks of home-bound lumbermen. Two of the canoes were managed by a Canadian and a Scotchman, who seemed to cherish a deep-rooted passion for racing. They paddled a number of heats; and as they were alternately beaten, they both finally became angry, and began to bet extravagantly. The conclusion of the whole matter was, that they went ashore on a bushy point, among the mountains, and settled their difficulty by a “private fight.” They fought like brave men, “long and well;” and by the time one had a tooth knocked out of his head, and the other had nearly lost an eye, they separated, and quietly resumed their way. These were the only wild animals that I saw in the Madawaska wilderness.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Acadians.
Mouth of the Madawaska. July.
At the junction of the rivers Madawaska and St. John, and extending for some miles down the latter, is a settlement of about three hundred Acadians. How these people came by the name they bear, I do not exactly understand; but of their history I remember the following particulars. In the year 1755, during the existence of the Colonial difficulties between England and France, there existed, in a remote section of Nova Scotia, about fifteen thousand Acadians. Aristocratic French blood flowed in their veins, and they were a peaceful and industrious race of husbandmen. Even after the Government of England had become established in Canada, they cherished a secret attachment for the laws of their native country. But this was only a feeling; and they continued in the peaceful cultivation of their lands. In process of time, however, three titled Englishmen, named Lawrence, Boscawen, and Mostyn, held a council, and formed the hard-hearted determination of driving this people from their homes, and scattering them to the four quarters of the globe. Playing the part of friends, this brotherhood of conquerors and heroes sent word to the Acadians, that they must all meet at a certain place on business which deeply concerned their welfare.
Not dreaming of their impending fate, the poor Acadians met at the appointed place, and were there informed of the fact, that their houses and lands were forfeited, and that they must leave the country, to become wanderers in strange and distant lands. They sued for mercy, but the iron yoke of a Christian nation was laid more heavily upon their necks, in answer to that prayer, and they were driven from home and country; and as they sailed from shore, or entered the wilderness, they saw in the distance, ascending to heaven, the smoke of all that they had loved and lost. Those who survived, found an asylum in the United States, and in the more remote portions of the British Empire; and when, after the war, they were invited to return to their early home, only thirteen hundred were known to be in existence. It is a remnant of this very people who, with their descendants, are now the owners of the Madawaska settlement; and it is in an Acadian dwelling that I am now penning this paper.
But, owing to their many misfortunes (I would speak in charity), the Acadians have degenerated into a more ignorant and miserable people than are the Canadian French, whom they closely resemble in their appearance and customs. They believe the people of Canada to be a nation of knaves, and the people of Canada know them to be a half savage community. Worshipping a miserable priesthood is their principal business; drinking and cheating their neighbours, their principal amusement. They live by tilling the soil; and are content, if they can barely make the provision of one year take them to the entrance of another. They are, at the same time, passionate lovers of money, and have brought the science of fleecing strangers to perfection. Some of them, by a life of meanness, have succeeded in accumulating a respectable property; but all the money they obtain is systematically hoarded. It is reported of the principal man of this place, that he has in his house, at the present moment, the sum of 10,000 dollars, in silver and gold; and yet this man’s children are as ignorant of the alphabet as the cattle upon the hills. But, with all their ignorance, the Acadians are a happy people; but it is the happiness of a mere animal nature.