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1 2 3

-?«

:Ei:Er^7~TJErw

OF THE PEOPLE OF

"EVANGELINE!"

WITH

HISTORICAL SKETCKES

OF THE

Present and Future,

BY v^\

MDE. MOREL DE LA DURANTAYE.

WINDSOR:

LE riK^OKES STEAM PUIKTIKO HOUSE.

<« *

^2.

■)»«-/- «»

<« '*

The Acadians.

PART FIRST,

» "4

■fkrt-m

0F THE many who have read Longfellow's Evan-
geline with unbounfled delight, how few there
are who know that the plnintiff, poetic story of Aca-
dia, is but a picture of a real people, illustrating their
simple mode of life and their multiple misfortunes.
Yet our Nova Scotia once bore that romantic namci
and her people were the Acadians of history, romance
and song.

The story carries us ]> rck to that long ago, when,
from the frozen sea to tr 2 tropical gulf, this vast
country was a nearly unknown wilderness, its monoto-
ny being undisturbed save by a few English colonies
on the Atlantic shore of what is now the United States,
and like settlements by France in Canada, each claim-
ing by assumed right that which belonged to neither,
and each fiercely jealous of the acquirements of the
other.

Thus the two most powerful nations of Europe
sought extension of doninion and addition of wealth,
while colonists, from various quarters and all classes,
endeavored to improve their condition by existing
their fortunes in the wilds of the "new world."

The experience of all these early pioneers wa«* usu-
ally pitiful in theextreme, if not infrequently happen-
ing that they fell victims to cold, starvation and dis-

ease, to the hostility of neighboring adventurers, or to
the tomahawk of the savage, to be finally either en-
tirelv (lestroved or as a tattered remnant return to
iheir old-time homes.

Among those who so early as 1604 cast their lot in
the western wilderness was a body of French people
from Normandv, who chanced to fix their new homes
in Acadia, the peninsula now known as Nova Scotia.
This effort proved a failure, especially because of the
inroads of settlers from, the English colonies of Vir-
ginia, who claimed the peninsula by right of discov-
ery, and whose people, led by a freebooter, in the end
utterlv destroved the colonv.

The French government had given the rugged realm
its tropical name, but in the turmoil of the nations, the
English obtained possession, and in 1621, with greater
fitness, pronounced it to be Nova Scotia, or New Scot-
land. But neither tropical nor frigid designation
brought settled quietude to its borders. It became
the shuttlecock of war and diplomacy. In due time
the French became its master, to be overcome by their
persistent enemy in 1654. Thirteen years later the
French were in power, fickle fortune returning it to
the English in 1714. Thus, experience had shown
little certainty of tenure, and that the imperious Eng-
lishmen so deemed it is amply shown in the fact that
the treaty by which it was secured to them contained
the galling proviso that their new subjects, the Acadi-
ans, or French citizens of Nova Scotia, might enjoy
freedom of worship, they being Catholics, while the
English government was intensely Protestant, and
still more, they were granted immunity from bearing
arms, being thus permitted to enjoy the benefits of a

pfovernment, and be it protected, without raising a
hand even in their own defense. Tliis unprecedented
favor may have j)artly risen from the fact that joining
the Entflipli forces tliev would be brouirht face to face
with lier hereditary foe, and thus be compelled to do
battle against personal friends and relatives; but, odi-
ous as this tacit citizenship must have been to the
haughty English government, it must be stated in jus-
tice to it that the treaty pledge was faithfully kept.

It seems passing strange that the well-known vicis-
situdes and turmoil did not make a bar to immigration.
But it did not do so. During each period in which
France held the land, her people with consummate
pertinacity, sought homes in Acadia; the English, with
equal blindness, hurrying to their new Scotland during
the time of their possession.

This seems all the more wonderful when the fact is
recalled, that the varied changes in mastery so briefly
noted, were always the results of harassing and bloody
struggles, participated in by both French and English
regular troops, the milita or citizen soldier of both
sides, in every case each party being aided by the blood
thirsty savages, who spared neither age or sex, and in
whose hands immediate death was usually a desired
blessing. The cheek alternately pales with anger and
blushes with sHame, as we review the true history of
the part taken by either party in these fierce contests
for empire, contests that excited the deepest concern
in' the great capitals and courts of Europe three thous- .
and miles awav. '

The Acadian people not only brought with them the
habits of the Norman peasant, but adhered to their pe-
culiarities with unyielding tenacity. In consequence

of- this, they became noted for simplicity of habits,
for patient and persistant toil from which followed
remarkable thrift; for devotion to the religion of
their fathers, ardent attachment to their fatherland
and an unlimited devotion to their new homes.
Totally void of those ambitious aims that fires the
hearts of other people, they sought nothing beyond
their little land possessions, and luxuriant in the com-
forts found in their unostentatious habitations. Every
impulse of their hearts centered there, no toil was too
severe, if it but tended to increase their stock and
store. The soil of the low grounds being most fertile,
they built dikes, by which the waters were forced
back, thus converting marshes into reclaimed fields
where the cereals grew in abundance, while thousands
of every variety of cattle grazed on the adjacent plains,
indulging in none of the vanities that corrodes and
impoverishes more pretentious communities, frugality
reigned everywhere supreme. Without education,
and relyincf on the "cure" for instruction and guid-
ance in all essential things, they kept alooft from
others, desiring most to be by the boisterous world
foirgotten. Absence of ambitious aims circumscribed
tlieir wants and rendered possible the existence of
such a typical band of brothers, asking only to be
permitted to eiijoy their toil, their contentment, neigh-
bdrigaind religion. •<

^It wJottld se6m that these meager favors were their
due aiid' should. Jtave been accorded them, butinstead
they were the* shuttle) ocks of the grim coijitestants^or,
power .apd ,i??npire. ,, Lotng. weaij years of contention
witii repeated chaii^^e of ruling powers had iat b.st
bfbii^Kt ^hfe" 1 1 ea,iifx)^ 1 718' bef br^ i-e'f etred^ t^, -appa r-^
ently brittgingft^iib it^the Ibng'desTrefdrejiOBef .' >' '

^ «

*». 'n

<'.'>

♦ •

Me Up*

Under the Enp;lish regime, in accordance with the
terms of this compact, nearly half a century had passed,
the Acadians being nominally English subjects, but
clinging witli the keenest ardor to old memories, bound
in every heart sympathy to those who spoke their
native tongue, and who in every way were to them
most near and agreeable. In every sense their ru'ers
were to them foreign, the name engrnfted on their
land cold and eh«erless, their dreams revels in Acadia.

Thus the embers of unrest were ever warm in their
bosoms, and calm and well disposed as they were, re-
quired but little effort to fan it to a brighter glow. To
the interior Canadian colonies, conditions were ever
piesent promoting to active effort. Nova Scotia, now
an English province, occupied a position on their east-
ern borders that largely interfered with their access,
to the oce;in, which was not only the highway of
trade, but the only one through which they could main-
tain connection with France. Fierce tribes of Indians,
ardently attached to the interests of the Canadian
colonies, occupied adjacent lands, and secret emissaries
were ever busy fomenting acrimonies in the hearts of
both the gentle-souled Acadians and their neighbors,
the brutal savages.

To the English, the accorded neutral citizenship was
extremely distasteful, and when to this was added the
unrest wrought by the emissaries of France, it became
odious. They were further both vexed and alarmed by
the erieotion of a French fort immediately over the line.
This was situated at Beausejours and adjacent to the
district of Mines-, on a narrow isthmus connecting
Nova Scotia with the mainland of Canada and seemed
significant, as the Basin of Mines was the most popu-

8 :

lous and wealthiest of the Acadian settlements. What-
ever the real purpose may have been, the fort and its
occupancy by the French troops was a perpetual menace
to the rulers of the province.

The tempest was slowly but surely gathering. But
through all the perplexing situations the Acadian
people kept as much aloof from participation as was
possible for them to do. Their purpose and intent
was to remain true to their obligations as neutrals,
but being flesh and blood, and the continued prey of
those who by secret persuasion and every possible de-
vice, sought to lead them to some measure that would
result to the advantage of the Canadian provinces, and
through this means to the government of France, what
could be expected as the result. With all this they so
greatly preferred to till the soil, tend their herds, and
live in quietude, that with far fewer exceptions than
could be expected they persisted in pursuing their
pastoral career.

At last the tempest had gathered its forces; a cloud
of ill-omen overcast the sky. The drama of turmoil,
of battle, of unrest and unchanging rulers, was about to
terminate in tragedy. The innocents were again to
suffer; the only ones that could be by any means ac-
counted guiltless, were to be made the victims of an
act that thrills every sensibility of the human heart.

The American colonies were in fact a part of Eng-
land and represented her interests, in precisely the
same sense that the Canadian colonies represented
their home government.

Through the instrumentality of the -former, an ex-,
pedition was fitted out in 1755 to reduce the fort at
Beause jours, the ultimate object being, to destroy

ALONE IN THE WOODS.

Frencli influence in Nova Scotia, thus making it prac-
tically and really an English province like themselves.
The fleet sailed from Boston harbor, and on arrival
near their destination was joined by a force of British
regulars under Col. Moncton, who took command of
the whole. The negotiations with the English govern-
ment and preparation of the expedition had been con-
ducted with so much care that the occupants of the
fortress were surprised at the appearance of the enemy.
Their consternation quickly extended to the Acadians
who, with instinctive French predilections, required
only a threat from the commandant of the French
forces to lead many to cast their fortunes with them.
Not knowing what was really involved, believing their
all to be in peril at the hands of practical free-bootcrs,
they accepted the only apparent chance for self-pres-
ervation. Rendered desperate by the gloomy outlook,
some three hundred joined the troops in the fort, while
many, being undecided to the last moment what was
best to do, finally hid their families in the woods and
fought the invader from any cover they could find.
Heroic but mistaken purpose, idle effort; the hand of
fate was upon them, they struggled against destiny.

The fort surrendered after feeble resistance, and the
misguided Acadians were at the mercy of the English
who, having granted them neutrality, now found them
traitors.

With mock generosity they were pardoned this grave
offense, but there awaited them a doom no less griev-
ous. It is this doom that every sentiment of human-
ity and common decency revolts, stamping the perpe-
trators as men worthy the brand of Cain. No claim
of ])recedent, no plea of national policy, can be made

* 4

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-^-■v>^.

ft 4

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to hide the infamy of that at which the hearts of all
good men revolt. Precedent does not palliate wanton
torture, physical or mental, more than it excuses the
savage for burning his victim at the stake. The course
pursued had not even the manly quality of fair, open
dealing, but consisted in a series of schemes, in every
one in which a trap was secreted, to the end that turn
which way they might, the intended victims must come
at last to the same condition. The purpose was per-
fectly hidden until the fatal line was passed.

Having been forgiven for joining hands with the
enemy in the recent contest at the fort of Beause jours,
their hearts were sufficientlj" softened by the unex-
pected clemency, to respond promptly through their
representatives that they were willing to take the oath
of allegiance to the British crown, a summonds having
been issued to them to determine the matter as to
their willingness. These representatives were, how-
ever, astounded when informed that the old time treaty
proviso, granting them immutiny from bearing arms
and especial religious privileges, could no longer be
tolerated and would not be permitted. The oath
must now be taken in full, without proviso or reserva-
tion, as an evidence of complete abandoment of any
. former allegiance. This measure was wholly unex-
pected and to them shocking to the last degree. The
agents could not at once answer for their constitu-
ency, in fact could do no less than to go back to them
for instruction in a matter so vital to their interests.
When they returned for further consultation, the
trap set at that point was sprung; it was pro-
nounced too late. Accepting the delay as an evi-
dence of unwillingness and insincerity, the oath could

not How be taken at all or in any form, and their sup-
pliants were their government's outcasts. Thus step
by step the cords were being drawn (rloser, there be-
ing from the beginning no intended method of es(rai)e.

Wandering blindly in a desert of doubt, the peasants
went on \yith their harvest labor, without a <lream of
calamity greater than had so often befallen them, that
with it they were familiar as with the face of an old
time friend. It was just as well, as neither negligence
nor diligence could change their predetermined doom.

The further development and execution of the dia-
bolical plot required great care and secrecy, from fear
of a revolt, to quell which would result in slaughter in
addition to infamy. Only such delay occurred as was
unavoidable. While the husbandmen were occupied
at their labors, the commanding officers was busy per-
fecting every detail, and issuing the orders of the
"Provincial Governor" who represented the British
Crown, to his military subordinates, detailing their
duty at each of the several French or Acadian settle-
ments. Of these there were several, each one a little
world within itself.

These officers, with requisite troops, repairing to the
station assigned them, in conformity with their in-
structions, each issued an order directing, under pen-
alty, that "all old men, young men, and lads of ten
years of age," should meet at a place designated, on
September 5th, 1765, to hear a command of the
Governor of the province.

On its face this notice was entirely innocent; and in
some places was fully and in others not wholly com-
plied with. Possibly some might have noticed that
on that moniing extraordinary military precautions

had been very quietly taken, the strictesl diciplino
observed, and the troops supplied with powder and
ball. There could have b^en nothing beyond a sus-
picion, as the dread secret was unknown, save to a few
trusty officers who were sworn to absolute silence and
secrecy.

Grand Pre was a popluous and thrifty village, sur-
rounded by charming farms, with fields well tilled and
barns overflowing from the recent harvest. A descrip-
tion of what transpired there will suffice for all, as
the type was the same, and like agonies wrought
ever^'-where. Col. Winslow, of Massacusetts, was
assigned to duty in that district, and to the credit of
his heart be it said, shrank from its performance with
expressed disgust for being made the instrument of
unwonted cruelty, but imperative orders forced him
to obedience.

In compliance with official 'notice, "the old men,
young men, and boys of ten years" gathered in the
village church at the appointed time. Few failed to
obey the mandate, as suspicion was disarmed among
them, and the orders of the Governor were of vital
importance. Seated in their places in respectful and
painful expectation, they did not notice that the sol-
diers were quietly surrounding the building.

This done, the ranking officer in full uniform, repre-
senting his imperial majesty of Great Britian, after
some preliminaries, read the fatal orders, which were
nothing less than their property was all confiscated
to the Crown, that all were to be removed from the
province, leaving behind everything save such per-
sonal effects as could conveniently be carried with
them, and that after the moment of reading, they

wcro prisoiioiN, a'.i I with tlieir families <^o(,in< tl to jier-
p3tual cxik^ The axe had fallen at Grand Pro, but not
witli like success at some of the seltlcments, especially
that of Heau Basin and Annapoli-, where suspicions
had by some mear.s been aroused, and only a portion
reported as orderd. The recusants, fleeinp^ from the
horror thoy faintly imagined, hid witli their families
in the woods, hoping against fate for something better
than their fears had painted.

This awful communication, coming like a thunder-
bolt, so appalled the prisoners that they doubted what
they heard, but all became too plain for doubt when
they saw the stern sentry at the doors and beyond
them the jjuard underarms. Then their stronc: hearts
bowed under the Aveight of wretchedness. Instantly
passed before them as in a panorama, their homos*
th<jir families, and every sacred asFociated tie sud-
denly wrenched from them; their fertile fields and
well-filled barns, their Wrds grazing on the plains, to
them blotted out forever. Anguish rent everj'^ heart ;
they were worse than free outcasts on tlie face of the
earth.

Their families knew nothing of what had transpired,
until the expected did not return, when inquiry caught
the rumor, and, like the hot and suffocating simoon,
the revolting fact spread abroad . Then arose shrieks
of agony and lamentation in every home. In frenzy
women and children rushed along the streets, wring-
ing their hands in despair. It was the wailing of
helpless woman for absent loved ones and for crushed
hopes in every form — everything near and dear seemed
to have been gathered by the hand of death, and amid
desolation, lay coffined before them.

^ H

■» '^

Thtt pictuiv Avitli all lU ghiv^tly aooming wwh all too
real, for means of escape there were none. Lamenta-
tions were powerless for relief, shrieks of agony eoiild
be answered only bv kindred shrieks, while mothers
pressed to their breasts babes, that like thems^elves,
were pinioned to the wheel.

The early imi)risonment may be regarded in the
light of a precaution to prevent disorder, which, through
some mischance, miffht have resulted from delay and
arousing of suspicion. At least it was otherwise pre-
mature, as thei'e were not at command a suflicient
number of vessels to transport the members of the
colony which necessitated painful delay. Near the
shore at Grand Pre, lav live vessels on which it was
decided to place the prisoners as a means of security.
The 10th of September was fixed upon as the day on
which the male captives would be placed on board to
be there guarded while awaiting sufficient trans-
portation.

Five long, weary days passed by, doubt and hope al .
ternating in the breasts of the imprisoned, and their
families still in their homes. Would the captors carry
away fathers, husbands, sons and brothers? Limited
numbers, under careful guard, had each day been al-
lowed to visit their families; would this blessed favor
be taken away? were questions continually asked and
ever answered by a hopeless moan.

Each circling sun sternly reduced the hours of stay,
and when on the designated morn, its light set all
their beautiful land in glory before them, the drums
were resounding in the village streets. At eight
o'clock the church bell tolled into the desolate hearts
that the fatal hour had come.

Tlic iru^I.'incholy column was formod and two hun-
dred and sixty young men, in the advance, ordered to
marcli on wliip-board. The pride and strength of their
manly liearts forbade obedience. Tliey asked only for
their families in company. With them they could
bow to the yoke, but to leave them they would not.
This could not be, and while drums resounded, the
soldiery advanced with fixed bayonets. Appeals were
vain, to resist with empty hands utterly hopeless. A
few were wounded, when in despair the march began.

From the church to the shore, the way was lined
with women and children, mothers, wives, babes, those
who tottered from age, and those whose cheeks were
pallid with the touch of death. Neither pen nor pencil
can picture a heart agony, nor can they portray the
fierce sorrows of those who knelt by the way, greeting
the prisoners with blessings, tears and lamentations, •
as they bade, as they yet fully believed, a final adieu.
Trembling hand clasped hand that trembled, fathers
for a moment only pressed their lips to those of wife
and child as they moved on under the eyes of the
stern guards, w^ho dare not even, if they wished, brook
the least delay. Thus all moved quickly along the
melancholy path until none were left but those who
mourned, and when from the vessel decks the im-
prisoned looked ashore, there stood their loved
ones gazing through blinding tears to catch even
a faint glimpse of those so cruelly wrenched from
them. Riveted to the spot, the desolate women and
children w^rung their hands and wept until "tired nat-
ure" and the gloom of nightfall forced them to seek
protection in their homes.

One act in this infamous drama had been completed.

an aot'that brouglit shame into the English hearts,
who under orders were compelled to its execution.
There is a form of mercy in the ending of torture,
but even this trifling boon was not for the unfortunate
Acadians, for through long weeks of waiting for add i-

FIRST CHURCH OF ANNAPOLIS.

tional transports and supplies they lay in full view of
their lost treasures.

Horrified beyond measure, utterly powerless, inca-
able of thinking this cold inhumanity could be more
than temporary,' the woman felt that the persecutors

•liHlllrV

**, V^M W *" im* " ■■■ n*" w^

must relent; that the iron heart would soften, the re-
lentless hand loose its hold and the imprisoned be re-
turned to them. Soothed with this "forlorn hope,*'
they turned tlieir attention to their varieddnties, each
day, by permission, carrying food from their tables
to those on board the ships.

But the end was not yet. The event of September
10th was that of seperation; that which was to follow
was one of union, but not at the famih^ n reside.

Again the drums beat, troops paraded under arms,
and dividing into squads, proceeded to the perform-
ance of the last act of the cruel tragedy. The labor
of the housewife, the play of. Acadian children in
Acadia, was ended. For the last time had been heard
there their lullaby, for the last time the prattle of their
babes. The order was imperative, the fatal hour of
embarkment had arrived, mothers, wives and children
must now join their imprisoned friends, not definitely
as families, but as chance might determine. With
this awful reality, the last hope was crushed and hor-
ror thrilled every heart. In bewilderins: grief and
terror, almost unconscious of what they did, some
prized treasures were gathered together. Still re-
luctant to go, the soldiery were compelled to force
their departure, and amid tears hot with agony,
mothers carried their children, friends bore the aged
and infirm in melancholy procession to the boats that
were to bear them to the vessels awaiting them near
the shore. At each of the villages the same blood-
chilling scenes were enacted, and then fire swept
away honies, churches and harvests before their ej'es.
Flames burst through windows, crept over roofs, houses
and barns melted like wax, while each stack of grain

■^ "- m

became a hup^e cone of smoke, streaked with fire, until
nothing remained but a cloud that hung like a pall
above the cinders that smouldered beneath. The exiles
could only gaze, wring their powerless hands and weep.

In every locality the effort at capture had been well
planned, and was executed thoroughly, both at the time
of reading the order and afterward; the search for those
who failed to come being pushed with earnest diligence.
Still there were some who, with their families, escaped
to the woods. In the utmost fright and destitution
they hid them as best they could, to bide the develop- /
ments of time. No opportunity for counter effort was
discovered by them save at Chipody, where, from
their hiding places, they saw the flames bursting sim-
ultaneously from their houses, barns and churches.
Instantly their blood became heated beyond endurance.
Guided by anger, and thirsting for revenge, they
hastily hid their wives and children more securely,
and few as they were, threw themselves unexpectedly
on the enemy, who, broken by the furious attack,
hastened to their ships, leaving forty-five dead and
w^ounded on the field.

Whichever way they turned, the fate of these fugi-
tives could be nothing less than deplorable to the ut-
most extreme. Their English persecutors were unre-
lenting and sought them out in the most unfrequented
places. Those that, by dint of watchfulness, suffering
and dubious good fortune, escaped, either hid in rocky
caverns, fens, or marshes, subsisting by fishing and
kindred methods, or joined their comrades who had
united- with the French before the battle at the foil
and shared with them their flinty destiny. Others
found refuge in the wigwams of their savage friends,

or wandered to adjacent iwlands within the French
bordera, all hovering near their lost treasures. De-
tached groups found their way into the interior of the
Canadian settlement, to receive such care as is meted
out to the impoverished and disconsolate. Through
some chance, a group of these people fixed their habi-
tations on tlic Madawaska, where, having passed
through indescribable privations, they gradually de-
veloped comforts, which, in time, ripened into pros-
perity and happiness, and there, at thin day, may be
found an untarnished type of the Acadian people.

Little bands round resting places within the provin
cial borders, at points remote from English settle-
ments, their security consisting in their poverty and
the unfrequented locality of their homes.

In 1763, the iron grip of the British hand slightly
yielded, its grasp, permission being then granted to
the expatriated to return and establish themselves in
Digby County, Township Clair, a rough and jagged
place on the southwest shore of St. Marys Bay, remote
from all habitation and accessible only from the sea
through a narrow and rockbound inlet. A few prompt-
ly availed themselves of this meagre indulgence. Long
deprivation and suffering seemed to have softened
their memory of wrongs, and lent energy to their
efforts. Labor for themselves had in it such pleasur-
able quality, that soon the rough lands were made to
yield their treasures, which, with ample facilities for
fishing, enabling them to secure life's necessaries, now
to them the swettest luxuries

This experience is sufficiently heartrending, but is,
if possible, surpassed by those who, as the transports
glided down the bay, gazed their last on their native

laiulfi as the flamoH shot upwards tlirough tho dense
clouds of smoke. No fleet had ever Ix^riie on its decks
such V)urthen of heart-breakings, decks that were
moistened with torrents of tears. No desohition
cran he more dreary tlian tho transition from home to
homelessness; from loved land to one wliich at best
had no aUurements, that could only be a place for
wandering and servitude; from the cheers of the family
fireside to a bleak and dreary desert.

But grief will often exhaust itself and yield at last
to passion, or, mingled together, they lind expression
by turns. Thus it was on one of these vessels, result-
ing in mutiny, overpowering the guards, and running
it ashore near St. Jolm's river, the escaped prisoners
finding refuge in friendly wigwams.

The fleet sped on its way, each vessel consigned by
orders to certain of the colonies along the Atlantic
coast, where their living freight was heartlessly set
on shore, among those whose language was not under-
stood, and each to the other odious by long hostility,
and where the faith of each was deemed by the other
a heresy, a wicked and unclean thing.

Imagination alone can follow their devious fortunes,
as history has not preserved its details, more than at
the hands of those so intensely disliked, they secured
greater fa-vors and more real kidness than did the
refugees at the hands of their Canadian friends. But
it was not possible to comfort them. Wherever they
might find refuge among the colonists, unhappiness
was still their portion. If they had few wants, they
were keenly felt, and could not be yielded; every tra-
dition being a sacred thing to which their very souls
were attached as by hooks of steel. Their unrest, con-

sequently, never appeased, necessarily separated, they
soon scattered far and wide in well nigh aimless pur-
pose, some in after years working their way back to
Digby and Madawaska. Others were sent from Vir-
ginia to England, or found refuge in the Norman land
of their forefathers .

No legend tells us how or when a portion of these
strangely unfortunate people reached Louisiana. The
long stretch of inhospitable wilderness forbade a jour-
ney thither by land, but it may be readily surmised
that Fome kind-hearted captain took them by sea to
the then far-away colony, where they could once more
hear in speech the music of their notive tongue.

Fancy will paint how memory of the harsh and for-
bidding clime they had left behind, together with their
suffering and poverty, must have vanished from their
minds as they slowfy wended their way out of the
tropical gulf into beautiful Berwick Bay, and thence
into Bayou Teche (Bio Tesh) extending northward two
hundred miles, to receive the siJent flowing Atchafal-
aya (A-shaf ala). We dwell with them on the scene.
There is not a ripple on the sleeping Bayou, a deep
waterway from two to three hundred feet wide, that,
like a ribbon of silver, stretches far, far away; on the
eastern shore, standing then as now, an unbroken
forest of cotton-wood and cypress, their lofty branches
interlacing, all draped and festooned with Spanish
moss, as if in sorrow that the waters into which their
shadows fell, must pass away to return no more. On
the western shore their eyes were greeted with charm-
ing undulations, where the live oak spread its
branches, and the palmetto rose in pretentious dig-
nigty; where roses, magnolias, jessamine, camelias

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and oleanders, of spontaneous growth, loaded the air
with intoxicating perfume, seeming to oflfer a paradise
where the rudest must long to linger and from which
the blest could scarce wish to wander. Far up the
stream, on the billowy lands, the exiles established a
colony, in which the gentle-souled Evangeline sought
her lost lover; where the habits of their ancestors be-
coming firmly rooted, are still untarnished; where the
spinning wheel and loom are heard in the cabin home;
where girls wear the Norman bonnet and petticoat;
wheie the village cure is their guide and master, and
the church bells call to that form of devotion from
which they have never swerved.

The shameless work was done; the expatriation
made as complete as it was possible to do, by resort to
the most frigid heartlessness and rugged violence.
Nine thousand persons had been made impoverished
wanderers on the face of the earth, and their vast
wealth at the same time given to the winds and the
flames.

Families had necessarily been separated, never to be
reunited, save by such chance accident as could rarely
occur. Fancy alone can picture the joy of such un-
expected meeting, and none could be more touching
ing than the story of the lovers, kindly handed down
to us by authentic history.

They were to have wed on the veiy day on which
the male inhabitants of Grand Pre were made prison-
ers. On his way to the ship Jean stopped to kiss the
kneeling, weeping maiden, and hurriedly said, "Adelle,
trust in God, and all will be well." On different ves-
sels both were landed in New York, and the maiden,
with her mother, found a home far up the Hudson,

HB^aa

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from which tlic former was carried away in an Indian
raid, and made the petted prisioner of a chief in the
deep forest recesses of the Mohawk Valley.

In time Jean became a trader with the Indians, and
in one of his long journej's, one day "approached the
wigwam of the old chief, and amid the forest shad-
ows saw a young woman, with her back toward him,
as she sat on a mat, feathering aiTOWS. On her head
sat jauntily a French cap. With this, her fair neck /
suggested her nativity. He approached her gently —
their eyf s met. The maiden sprang from the mat,
and uttering a wild cry of joy and 'Jean,' fell faint-
ing in his arms "

Poetry and romance have vied with history in por-
trayal of the pitiable experience of this people, who
left France with hope of bettering their lives in the
rugged wilderness of a far away and unknown land.

Strangely enough its history presents the elements
of romance, and poetry and story can scarce reach be-
yond the real limits of cheerless history.

A rugged land, an Unostentatious people, ever on
the rack of misfortune, but .never swerving from the
habits and faith of their fathers, Acadia has been
made by the poet's wagiQ pen the land of Evangeline,
and she, the pure souled, the patient, ever loving and
ever faithful, the representative of her people, whose
cup was always well-nigh filled with bitterness, but

who, like her:

'*iVleekly bowed their heftds, and murmured.
Father, I thank Tb«se.'*

COSTUMES OF THE ACADIANS.

t^mm

Their Transportation and tlie Ganse.

PART SECOND.

In 1740, difficulties between France and England, in
consequence of court intrigues, kindled a needless war
which terminated in the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. The
details of the treaty exhibited, on the part of the
French ministers, such neglect and unpardonable ig-
norance that a new war began yery soon after, on the
borders of Acadia. Tlie Governor of Canada placed
garrisons along the frontiers, and the peace heretofore
enjoyed by the Acadians ceased to exist.

In 1 755, the envy which the prosperity and rich soil
of the colony had excited among the militia of New
England brought on his infamous and cruel spoliation,
an eternal stain on the name and honor of England,
which, unfortunately, is without more than one parallel
in the history of that nation. This iniquitous decision
was carefully concealed from the Acadians, in order
not to provoke a suspicion that might have proved
dangerous. A proclamation was issued calling on the
people to assemble on the 5th of September, 1755, in
their different parishes, to hear an important communi-
cation from the Governor. This deceit was not every-
where successful. At Beau-Basin, part of what had
remained of the French Acadian population took at

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once to the woods. The people of Annapolis, accus-
tomed of old to seek in the forests a refuge against
the cruelties of war, did not wait for the completion
of this horrible catastrophe, therefore a certain number
only fell into the hands of their foes.

But in the district of Mines, which is the wealthiest
in Acadia, good care had been taken to secure the suc-
cess of the plot. • This population, peaceful, industri-
ous, and not as suspicious, perhaps, responded in a body
to the call of the Governor, and being secretly sur-
rounded by soldiery, were told they were prisoners of
war, and their lands, tenements and household goods
forfeited to the crown, and that on the 10th of Sep-
tember they were to embark for the British Colonies.
This awful communication fell like a thunderbolt
and stunned the wretched families. Without arms,
surrornded by soldiers and crushed beneath calamity,
the Acadians had to bow to the atrocious law of a
triumphant foe; and on the 10th of September, the
mournful expatriation took place.

That date had been fixed upon as the day of depart-
ure, and a man of war was in waiting for them. At
daybreak, drums were resounding in the villages,
and at eight o'clock the ringing of the church bells
told the sad and desolate Frenchmen that the time
had come for them to leave forever their native land.
Soldiers entered the houses and turned away men,
woman and children into the market place. Till then
each family had remained together, and a silent sad-
ness prevailed; but when the drums beat to embark;
when the time had come to leave their native homes
forever to part with mother, relatives, friends, with-
out hope of seeing them again, to follow strangers

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tli.'it cimiity, laiiiruaiifo, habits, juid ospoeially rolic^ion
had made distasteful; crushed beneatli tlie weij^ht of
tlieir nuserv% tlie exiles melted into tears and rushed '
into each others' arms in a long and last embrace.
The drums were resounding incessantly and the crowd
was pushed on toward the ships anchored in tlie river.
Two hundred and sixty young men were ordered to
embark on board the first vessel. This they refused
to do, declaring tliey would not leave their parents, but
were willing to embark with their families. This re-
quest was immediately rejected, but they were forced
into subjection by the troops, wdio, with fixed bayonets,
advanced toward them, and those who tried to resist
were wounded, leaving no alternative but to submit to
this horrible tyranny. The road leading from the church
to the shore was crowded with women and children,
who, on their knees, greeted them with tears and their
blessings, as they passed, bidding a sad adieu to hus-
band or son, and extending to them trembling hands,
which they sometimes could press in theirs, but which
a brutal soldier compelled soon to be released. The
young men were followed by their seniors, who passed
through the same scene of scrrow and distress. In this
manner were the whole male population put on board
of the five transports gtationed in the river; ^^.cV. of these
was guarded by six oflicers and eighty privates. As
soon as other vessels arrived, the women and children
were put abroad, and when at sea the soldiers would
sing, unmindful of such dreary misfortune. The tears of
these poor, wretched people excited their cruelty, and
even they had a good deal to suffer at the hands of
the officers.

Revenge, mean cruelty, implacable cupidity, and

'29

every contemptible passion concurs to increase the
infamy of tliia odious removal, and brand it as one of
the most shameful pages of English history.

For several consecutive eveniniys, the cattle would
congregate around the smoking ruins of the homes, as
if expecting the return of their owners, while the faith-
ful watchdogs were howling on the deserted hearths.

According to the Revue des Deux Mondes of 1831,
the number of prisoners thus removed from the dis-
trict of Mines amounted to 4,000, and it may be said
that the whole French population had been banished,
as very few could escape.

From the following statement may be obtained an
idea of the wealth of that country. Four tjiousand
houses and five thousand stables were burned; twelve
thousand oxen, three tho'^sand cows, five thousand
calves, six thousand horses, twelve thousand sheep
and eight hundred pigs were taken possession of.

The American colonists, who had long since pro-
voked the measures, obtained a grant of the land, and
of course the numerous herds were not without profit
to some one; so, nothing had been neglected to suc-
ceed in that canton, which was the wealthiest of all.

How did these poor people live in the forests and
wilderness? Through what succession of dangers and
sufferings did they pass in the presence of speculators
among whom their lands were devided? This we do not
know. But we are aware that they felt the panajs of hun-
ger and cold and defended their lives against wild beasts

At the present time we find a small parish of Aca-
dian origin, growing on the ruins of their country, in
the midst of British invaders. The population are
French Acadians andCatholics in every principle, and

mmm

renmiii as an unconqueral)!e [H'otest ol' justice. They
are the inhabitants who, escaping from Britisli perse-
cution, took refuge in tlie woods, and later emigrated
into several localities of St. Lawrence.

In 1755, the French commanding officer stationed
himself at Beausejours with a small garrison of one
hundred and fifty men, where they watched the move-
ments of the British, who, later on, took the fort by a
surprise. The women and children were able to escape
and hide away in the woods, and were soon after
joined by the commander with a few armed men.
When they saw the flames destroying their houses, the
blood of the old Acadians swelled in their veins, and
they listened only to anger and revenge. They sent
their wives and children into the woods and threw
themselves suddenly on their enemies, who, broken by
the furious and unexpected attack, returned to their
ships, leaving forty-five of their comrades dead or
wounded. After this dreadful slaughter, the French
ofiicer apportioned, to the best of his abilitj'^, the few
remaining families, sending some to the islands of the
Gulf, while others, loth to leave, began again to clear
the woods along the shores; but the majority of those
established on the shores had to take refuge in Canada.

In 1*757, there remained on the borders of the Gulf of
the St. Lawrence, but very few families, being unob-
served because of their small number and the remoteness
of English settlements. The usual poverty of an unin-
habited country made it anything but a desirable
location.

As to the fate of the people dwelling along the river
of Annapolis; they threw themselves in the woods at
the first suspicion, for they had for some time been

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accustomed to such tactics; but this time it was not ;i
passinuj stonn after which tliey couM return to their
fiehls and rebuild their wooden liouses. Tlie Enu^lish
levied on thein a lastinsjf war. One portion of tlie i)eople
of Annapolis were obliti^(>d to take refujje in forests and
deserts, with the savages, while others scattered along
the shores, where, poor and unnoticed, they earned their
living as Acadian fishermen. There, for several years,
they succeeded in concealing their existence amid anx-
ieties and privations, hiding carefully their small canoes,
not daring to till the land, watching, with apprehen-
sion, any Englis h sail, and dividing with their friends,
the Indians, the supplies due to fishing and hunting.

The woodland remains yet, but to-day, under its
shade, lives a race different in customs and language.
It is only on the dreary and misty shores of the Atlan-
tic that vegetate yet a few Acadian peasants, whose
fathers came back from exile to die in their native
land. In their cabins, the spinning wheel and the loom
are yet in motion. The young girls still wear the Nor-
man bonnet and petticoat, and in the evening, sitting
near the fire, they repeat the history of the Gospel, while
in its rocky caAcrns near by the ocean roars and an-
swers in a disconsolate tune to the groans of the forest.

Since then, like the passing of a terrible storm, leav-
ing wreck and ruin in its track, the persecution sub-
sided, the Acadians made use of a kind of sufferance
to establish themselves openly on the shores that had
been their refuge for so many years. A few years
after, they were joined in these solitary and wretched
parts of the country by a small fraction of those trans-
ported by the English in 1*755. Such is the origin of
the Acadian population in Canada, that has given its

name to tlie parish called Acadia, in the county of St.
John, a place made immortal by the beautiful poem of
Longfellow, and is known as the home of Evangeline.

A memorial of the Bishop of Quebec, dated October
30th, 1767, let us know their number, especially at
Cape Sable, where a Catholic Missionary comforted
and sustained them against English persecutions; this
missionary had been called by them, and o/t'ered to
defray his own expences.

A certain number still remained scattered in differ-
ent places, living miserably in the remotest cantons.

In 1763, permission was granted to Acadians that
had been transported into Massachusetts to establish
themselves on the southwest shoi-e oi their old country,
near St. iVfary's Bay.

The township of Clare, Digby connty, was at the
time a rough and jaggad place, remote from all hab-
itation and accessible only by sea. The Acadians,
who seem to possess as an essential characteristic, a
constant energy and indomitable perseverance, were
ready to re-commence the struggle and work without
loss of courage. They were not long in putting their
ehoulder to the wheel when the said inheritance,
granted them by the compassion of their oppressors,
came back into their hands. Industrious, hard work-
ers, they soon cleared the land, built fishing boats,
and created in this deserted country a sufficient thrift.
All the authqrs are in accordance in their testimony
as to the preservation of the language, national char-
acter and vigilance to maintain old customs.

Mr. Halliburton, Judge in Nova Scotia, had written
the following in 1829: "While Germans have a tend-
ency to disappear in the English population, the Aca-

dian» live together as much an poflsible, keeping their
religion, language and peculiar customs. They never
intermarry with their Protestant neighbors. Among
themselves they speak but French." This great man's
friendship for the Abbot Sigogoe continued to the
period gf his election for the county of Clair, which
includes St. Mary's parish. Those two men of super-
ior talent in their different careers, understood one
another at their iirst meeting,

The author of Sam Slick took great interest in
conversing with this French Priest, whose life, ideas
and habits contrasted so strangely with his surround-
ings. On his part the priest felt a warm friendship
for this briglU, intelligent, sensitive, sarcastic, f ree-of -
all prejudice Protestant, and he did not hesitate to
notify his party that they could depend on hi« influ-
ence in favor of religious independence; and was one
of the first to ])ropose the abolition of the test oath,
which barred all Catholics from holding a public office.
Father Sigogne was one of the first promoters of the
emancipation act, presented and unanimously adopted
by the Legislature of Nova 'Scotia—thanks to the
masterly speech by Halliburton in 1827 — the most
remarkable part of which was his eulogy of the Aca-
dians, of whose manner and habits he had made a
special study during his residence in Annapolis, from
1822 to 1824. Says Beamish Murdock, refering to it,
"it was the most magnificent and eloquent oratory
that I ever heard." Halliburton was then mentally
and physically in the prime of his life. The bracing
air of his native home, Windsor, gave him a robust
appearance, although his figure was still young and
spare. On this occasion he literally carried his au-

at •

dience with him by the force of his eloquence, aided
by his classical and historical studies, and by hi» ap-
peal to the tenderest feelings of human nature.

This speech is too closely allied to our subject to
pass without citing a few passages. After informing
them that he represented a greatnumber of Catholics,
and that for several years he had been an intimate
friend of their venerable pastor. Father Sigogne, "for
what rea'ion," he asked, "does the Protestant and
Catholic mix in the same social reunions and live in
perfect harmony? Why does the Catholic weep at
the death of a Protestant friend he has loved while
living? Why does he act as pall-bearer to his last
resting place and mingle his tears with the dust that
covers his friend? If in Great Britain there is an
evident feeling of hostility, it must be for other causes
than a simple difference of religion. Ireland offers
the saddest spectacle. While the Catholic is in duty
bound and naturally inclined to support his Priest, he
is obliged by the laws of the country to pay tithe to
the Protestant minister. Then you see churches with-
out believers, ministefs without congregations and
bishops enjoying immense salarys without any duty
to perform. These Catholics must be more or less
than men. If they suffer all this withont complaint
they feel it and murmur. The Protestants on their
part are continually clamoring against them and de-
clare them as a bad class of people. All Catholic
church property has passed into the hands of the
Protestant clergy, also the tithe, lands and domains
of the Monasteries. Who can contemplate without
regret those Monasteries, venerable even in their ruins?
What has become of those scientific, charitable and

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hospitable asylums, where the pilgrim, weary from a
long journey, or tlie harassed traveler, stopped for
rest and received a hearty welcome; where the poor
received their daily food and implored with a
heart full of gratitude the benedictions of the
pious and good men that fed them. Those
asylums where knowledge held her assizes and science
plunged her flaming hand into the darkness of bar-
barism and ignorance.

"Allow me, Mr. President, to linger as T often liave
in times long ago during hours and days, amidst those
ruins; you also must have lingered to contemplate
those desolated ruins. Tell me while contemplating
those cloisters, and while your foot tread their mosaic
paths through which the grass grows, have you not im-
magined hearing the solemn tread of the Monks in
their holy procession? Have you not immagined hear-
ing the chimes of the bells pouring forth in the eve
their soft and melancholy sounds through the quiet
and solitary valley? Have you never heard the Sera-
phic choirs diffuse the harmonious chant of their hymns
through immense waves or aerial arches? Do not
those columns in ruins, those Gothic arches, those
cracked and ivy covered walls appeal to you, while
reminding you of the spoilers, at least to shed a tear
in the memory of those great and good men w^ho
founded them? It has been said that Catholics were
the enemies of liberty, but that assertion, like m^ny
others brought against them, is utterly false. Who
established the grand chart? w^ho established our
judges, our jury system, our magistrates, our sheriffs,
etc? It was the Catholics. It is to -those slandered
people that we owe everything of which we are proud

wms:.

to-day. Were they not loyal and brave? Ask the
green hills of Chrystler's Farm; ask at Chateauguay;
ask the hills of Queenstown. They will tell you they
cover the loyal and brave Catholic, the ashes of heroes
who died for their country. Here their sentiments
had full sway, because there was no cause for dissen-
tion and no properties to dispute. They were looked
upon as good subjects and good friends. Friendship
is natural to man's heart. It is like the ivy searching
the oak, twining around its trunk, embracing its
branches, surrounding them with beautiful wreaths
and climbing to the top, balances its magnificent ban-
ner of foliage above, as though proud of having con-
quered the king of the forest.

"Look at the township of Clare. There you see a
magnificent spectacle, a whole nation having the same
habits, speaking the one language, and united in the one
religion. It is a spectacle worthy of the admiration of
man and the approbation of God. See their worthy
pastor, the able Sigogne, at the rising of the sun sur-
rounded by his people, rendering thanks to the Author
of all gifts. Follow him to the sick bed; watch him
diffuse the balm of consolation on the wounds of the
afflicted. Follow him in his field, showing an example
of industry to his people; in his cabinet instructing
the innocent youth. Follow him in his chapel;
■yon will see the savage from the desert with
all ]^is fierce and untamed passions. You will see him
conquered and submissive in the preset ^p of the Holy
Man. You will hear him tell the Indian to recognize
God in the calm and the solitude of the forest, in the
roar of the cataract, in the splendid order of the plane-
tary system, in the regular order of day and night, the

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Indian does not forget to thank God in his own dialect
for the revelations the white man has taught him.
Mr. Halliburton next recited the dispersing of the Aca-
dian s^then as representative of the descendants of those
people. He demanded of the deputies the abolition of
the test oath not as a favor, as he would not accept
it through compassion, but from their justice. "Any
man," said he in conclusion, "who puts his haild on the
New Testament, and says this is my Book of Faith, be
he Catholic or Protestant, whatever may be the differ-
ence of opinion on certain doctrines, he is my
brother, and I embrace him. We are traveling differ-
ent paths to the same God. In my pathway of life I
meet a Catholic, I salute him, travel with him, and
when we arrive at the term "flammantia lumina mundi,"
when this time comes, as it surely must, when this
tongue that to-day expresses my thoughts will chill in
my mouth ; when this breast that now breathes the
pure air of Heaven will refuse longer to serve me;
when these earthly clothes will return to the earth
from whence they came and will mingle with the dust
of the valley, tnen with the Catholic I will turn a long,
languishing look at the past, I will kneel with him, and
instead of saying like the presumptions Pharisien:
"Grace to God, I am not like this papist," I will pray
that being both of the same blood we will both be par-
doned, and being brothers, we shall both be received
above."

Such language from a Protestant, addressed to a
Protestant audience, could not fail to produce its effect.
At the same time he showed the impressipn of the holy
life of the Abbot Sigogne had on all his surroundings.
The Catholics of Nova Scotia, and particularly the

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Acadian s, have placed beside the name of Halliburton
the name of Mr. Uniacke, one of the most noted mem-
bers of the Legislature, who supported the Deputy of
Clare, if not with the same eloquence, at least with, the
same spirit of justice. With this victory dropped the last
chain of the Acadians and opened an era of liberty
that has made them one of the happiest nations on
earth.

Providence granted the Abbot Sigogne seventeen
years of life from that date to strengthen the good he
had done in the midst of this population, becoming
more and more docile to his voice and examples. He
died of old age in 1844, at the age of eighty-five,
taking with him the regrets of all his people and
everything that shows a man that life is worth living
for, and the conviction of having accomplished his
duty and deeds that never die. If ever you cross St.
Mary's Bay you will see Abbot Sigogne's tomb sur-
rounded with honor and respect. You will there see
kneeling the children whose parents he baptized, and
of whom he made more worthy of the confessors of
the last century. With the Abbot Sigogne died in
Acadia the generation of Apostoical men that the
tempest of '93 had scattered over her surface, divided
then in three provinces, namely. New Bumswick,
Novia Scotia and Prinee Edward's Isle. The small
knots of families the missionaries had discovered on
the verge of being lost that they organized, disciplin-
ed, to whom they gave a part of their lives and vir-
tues, have to-day became ;legions, full of brave and
courageous people on whom we can depend. After
increasing on their own merit by doubling every
twenty-one years from 1*785 to 1827 th6y doubled

every twenty-two years from 1827 to 1871. The last
official census of 1881 states that there is to day
56,635 Acadians in New Brunswick, 41,219 in Nova
Scotia, which forms part of Cape Kreton, 10,767 on
Prince Edward's Isle. Those figures do not include
the Acadian population of the Magdelena Isles which
numbers over three thousand^ nor those north of the
Gulf and the Bay Dex Chalems, Newfoundland and
the State of Maine belonging to the Madawaska group
which will raise about twenty thousand souls, giving
the Acadian population of all these regions a total of
over 130,000 souls. As I said before the Acadians
are represented by men of their own race. In the Senate
and House of Commons they have their deputies and
even their local legislators. Men educated and noted
among aJl classes of 80ci(?ty, we no longer count the
number of their schools, at the head of which stands
Memramcook's classical college, without a doubt the
best Catholic institution in the Martime Provinces.
They have several convents devoted to the instruction
of youth in each of the Provinces, and as far as the
Magdelena Isles they control the election in many
counties. They have their French papers that teach
them their rights, their attachment to their language
and to France, at the same time declaring their entire
fidelity to England. In fact they possess all the ele-
ments of progression possible to wish. The reunion
of the British Provinces in Confederation strengthen-
ed them, at the same time binding them more closely
to their brothers in Canada. In fifty years they will
number half million, and will be a power in the mari-
time Provinces, as the Canadians are to-day in the
Confederation.

ii n

France has been, till the middle of the last centuary,
one of the greatest colonial powers in the world. The
moment seems propitious to present to the public the
researches we publish here. It is sad, indeed, in ex-
hibiting the national character, to call back the pain-
ful end of efforts which, at their beginning, raised so
legitimate and bright hopes; but we must overcome the
natural repulsion generated by misfortune, and fix our
minds on these sad recollections of the past, to derive
from our disasters useful information to guide and
strengthen our conduct in the future. We know that it
is not without concern for us to follow the French peo-
ple, abandoned in our old possessions, and to show what
has become of their posterity, through the difficulties
and trials of a foreign domination. France seems to
have forgotten, that in the dark hours of her history,
important populations of her own blood, and in spite of
misfortune, faithful to their origin, were forsaken by
her. Who remembers to-day Acadia, Canada, Louisiana,
or even Mauritius, though so recently lost? Who has .
any recollection of places illustrated by so many heroic
fights, and the devoted patriotism of their inhabitants?
It is hard to awaken remembrances of our past glory,
and to point out that France has been the first to com-
mence this wonderful development of civilization in
North America, while losing, through her carelessness ,
the generous children she did not know how to defend.

Courageous colonists, who with energetic persever-
ance have faced persecutions and abandonment, you
have kept everywhere, not only the tradition, but also
the religion, customs, language and love of your coun-
try. Has not the time arrived to depart from that selfish
indifference with which we rewarded their" affection?

rmmm

Tliose to whom the greatiioss and prospeots of France
are yet worthy of consideration will understand that
to call attention to tlie national question is to attend
to the future eventually laid up for the French race.

Five hundred and seventy-nine miles in twenty -four
hours by the Intercolonical road from Quebec to St.
John, New Brunswick. The train, as usual, on that
line was just late enough to enable you ^o miss the
boat maki, j three trips per week between St. John,
Digby and Annapolis. Compelled am I to wait until
night for the steamer from St. John to Yarmouth,
Nova Scotia. Those delays are so frequent that
gossip says there is an understanding between the
railroad conductors and St. John hotel keepers, the
latter having the reputation of charging exhorbant
prices to travelers. My experience at the Royal Hotel
will confirm the above statement. Far away to the
south the blue shores of Novia Scotia, seperated here
by the narrow but high chain of mountains, with a
suspension bridge a hundred feet above the gorge,
at the bottom of which the St. John Rives percipi-
tates itself in . a foaming cataract of elegance and
strength. From this point can be witnesssd one of
nature's greatest wonders on the continent. The tide
that rises as high as twenty-six feet in this vicinity
engulfs itself in this gorge, repulses the current and
permits for a few minutes vessels to mount above the
cataract. In 1634 Baron La Tour, a Huguenot gentle-
man, built a fort on Point Carleton opposite Navy
Island, a few rods above the cataract, where he done
a profitable business in pelts and trading with the
Indians. This fort, now entirely demolished, wit-
nessed one of the most tragical events in the annals

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of America. Leaving Paris with his son Charles
Amador, then fourteen years of age, Claude La Tour
at first thought of settling in Acadia, near Fort Royal.
Seventeen years later Charles La Tour was elected
Governor of Acadia through the death of Biencourt,
son of Poutrincourt, whom he suceeded.

Claude De La Tour being taken prisioner by the
English some time previous was conducted to London,
where he was surrounded by caresses, mnde Baronet,
and married to the first Maid of Honor of Queen
Henriette of France, wife of Charles the I The same
Princess that was immortalized by Bossuet Claude
De La Tour offered the King of England to secure
him the keys of Fort St. Louis, the ably fortified
post held by the French in Acadia. He sailed with
two frigates for America and anchored under the
walls of Fort St. Louis, of which but a few ruins re-
main, and proposed to his son to deliver the place to
them. In return he assured him the greatest honors
awaited him in London, and the supreme Government
of Acadia in the name of the King of. Great Britan.
The father answered Chas. De La Tour indignantly:
"You are greatly mistaken if you think I would de-
liver this fort into the hands of the enemies of this
State. I will defend it for the King, my master, as
long as I have a breath in my body. I highly esteem
the position offered me by the King of England, but
will never purchase them at the price of treason.
The Prince I serve is able to recompense inc, but
should he forget me, in my fidelity I will find the best
of all rewards." Seeing there was no alternative he
landed his troops and cannons and attacked the fort,
where he was gallantly repulsed and forced to retreat.

mmJtitm

|}<;comiiig at the Hame time :i traitor to France and
the cause of a disaster to En<)rland, the poor unfortu-
nate dared not return to Europe He advised his wife
to return with the vessels to England, for there was
nothing left him but shame and misery. "Never,'*
assured this noble woman; "I have not espoused you
to abandon you at the first reverse of fortune. Where-
ever you will conduct me, and no matter to what
misery you may be reduced, I will always be your
faithful companion. My happiness shall always be
to share your grief." La Tour then turned to his son,
whose grandeur of soul he began to understand, and
asked for clemency. The hero did not belie himself,
but taking his father and family, gave them a house
and a bountiful supply of everything necessary, on
condition that he and his wife should never put their
foot inside the fort, where they lived in peace and
comfort several years.

FINIS*

(jfc

By Mde. Mobel Db La Durantaye.

PART THIRD.

The writer of this, being a descendant of the Aca-
dian exiles^ ventures to offer a contribution to their sad
history, partly derived from records and partly from
impressions made by recitals of those among whom
she was reared. It was true that those who made the
terrible journey through the wilderness had been
gathered by death before my birth, but I well remem-
ber seeing and conversing with their children, born
after their departure from their original homes, some
on board the vessels that carried them to the English
colonies, others in the forests during their wanderings
in search of a place to rest.

Some of these people, then very old, had been nursed
by their mothers all through the long, weary waj', as
in terror they fled they knew not where.

The sorrowful stories were so burned into my young
heart, that in my after- joumeyings through the prov-
ince, I have eagerly listened to repetitions by their
descendants, who tell, with touching pathos, the inci-
dents handed down in families, from generation to
generation. The length of time that has elapsed makes
it impossible to now give primitive exactitude, and,
therefore, this record must bear somewhat the form
of legends of my native village, where my story begins.

Going backwar<i more tlian a centuary, eastern Can-
aria was a trackless wilderness. It was 1765 or 1766
when a few families were seen wending their way
through it; all victims of the same misfortune, who, for
some cause now unknown, halted on the banks of the
Montreal river, and decided that they were now suffic-
iently hidden, and might venture to there establish a
home.

It was a curious but not unatural fancy, that the
exiles usually named any new place they might decide
to occupy, after some one that was dear to them in
the land from which they had been expelled.

This group had found a spot where they determined
to begin anew the struggle of life, to try once more
what unremitting toil might bring forth, and named it
Little Acadia — after their lost country. Thus began a
little colony, towards which other fugitives, as if by
instinct, worked their weary way. The scenes then
occuning there would soften the flintiest heart. The
poor unfortunates arrived, one after another, in strag-
gling groups and wholly destitute, seeming like parts
of a wreck after a storm, drifted by the winds to the
same shore. Fathers, with large families came, accom-
panied, perhaps, by some of their neighbors. Often poor
young girls lived through the journey, while their aged
parents died by the way, from hardship and starvation,
finding their last rest in the gloomy forest. Groups of
these wanderers were often partly or wholly lost in the
wilderness to be seen no more. The survivors, filled
with grief for those that had disappeared by the way,
and embittered toward those who had caused their
misery, could but recount the painful story and weep.
Occasionally an old mother, whose love for her children

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was great enough to surmount every obstacle and bear
with all the hardships of the journey, would finally
reach the place that was to witness the last sacrifice of
her life. In her dying hour, she might be heard ask-
ing God to bless all the poor exiles around her, and
then, in a way so innocent and pure that you would
know they were the last wish of a loving mother's
heart, hear her cry, "My children, where are they?
Alas! God only knows, but if any of you ever see thera,
tell them that their old mother died, blessed them, and
asking God to bless and protect them from the tyr-
anny of the English, and at last to forgive them."

In pain and poverty, sighs and tears, thus was Little
Acadia begun, and in the midst of these humble un-
fortunates, in the fields close by the cottage, the erec-
tion of which was just commenced, my father was born ;
and in that same little colony I first saw the light of
day.

This constitutes but the means of insight into tLe
multitude of oft-told experience, of trials and suffer-
ings that had seared the souls of the exiles, had pre-
pared their soil for the growth of the tares of hate,
that to this day flourish in luxuriance.

From it we naturally turn to the causes that so
crushed this people as if beneath a heel shod with
iron.

In the province now known as Nova Scotia, at an
early day lived a people whose land was known to
them and the world as Acadia. They were all French,
and lived in distinct settlenaents, somewhat widely
scattered . One of these was known at the time as
Port Royal, which was captured by the English in
1*710, and then named Annapolis, by which title that

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48
colony w^a8 evun afterward designated. It ih to the
people of this colony that this sketch is chiefly devot-
ed, as ray ancestry were among those who escaped
from it) as well as many of those with whom I spent
my early years, and from whom I received the early
and lasting impressions.

Fort Royal was the most valuable point owned by
the French in America. In IVll all the Acadian
Peninsula suffered the fate of Port Royal. The French
abandoned it by a treaty in 1714.

Acadia thus passed under the English sceptre, and
so remained for nearly fifty years, when Nicholson,
Governor of the Province, issued an ordered compell-
ing the inhabitants to come before September 6th,
1756, and show submission to the English crown by
taking an oath, or forfeit their rights as English citi-
zens. This they had before been required to do under
direction of Phillips, who then represented the Eng-
lish Government, and who granted the rights of citi-
zens without being required to bear arms, and permit-
ting them freedom to worship as they chose, and that
this should be perpetual. The Acadians reminded
Governor Nicholson of the promise of Phillips, and
the reserve he had granted in the oath required of
them. They also reminded him of the cruelty of re-
quiring them to fight against their own people, man to
man, but received in answer that Phillips had been
censured by the King for the rash promises he had
made, and that they must now submit to the King.
There had been deceit in politics in order to keep
them there against their own will, and the result of
this hideous crime could have but one result.

The AcadianH askiMl if in rase tlu»v tU'Hircd to U'avo
the country they wonM be allowed to dispose of their
proj>erty. They were then informed that they eould
not either sell their property or leave the country.
They then returned to tlieir tiresi«le, some in despair,
others waiting in hopes, but not one would swear alle-
a^iance to England and raise his arm against France.
Then began the tyranny of the English administration ;
then those poor but heroic people by stealth left their
native home, carrying nothing with them but their ha-

FROM MONTREAL TO LA PRAIRIE.

tred for their persecutors. They left one after another,
men and women holding on their arras their aged
fathers and mothers. Their conversations were held
in low tones and ceased entirely on the threshold, the
head of the family first, then followed all the represen-
tatives of a third generation, each with a load of some
kind. The procession started silently through the
darkness to the harbor, where lay the ship awaiting
their embarcation and transfer to the Canadian shore.
They left unnoticed by any one, as they feared arous-
ing the authorities, who were already on the alert.
Arrived upon the beach amidst darkness, and blinded

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with tears, tl»ere was, of course, some confusion; peo-
ple could be heard in low voices callins: one another,
and sailors letting go their lines, but soon all noise
ceased. Occasionly you would hear a few between
their sobs, bidding good-bye to their country, never to
return. The anguish was general, even little babes
woke from sleep and cried, as a cold breeze would pass
over their face; they knew it was not their mother's
caressing breath. The boat began to rock; they felt
it was not the rocking of their cradle, and theirs were
the last cries borne back to Acadia.

Go, now, you barbarous instrument of politics; go
and distribute on other shores your missions of tyrrany
and outrage. Hidden in the forests, on the beaches^
and in the midst of solitude are your victims. Do not
flatter yourself with the hope that their voices are
silenced forever; that their footsteps will :5ever again
return to their native soil; that their stories will never
reach the ears of the civilized world; that God and the
world will leave them eternally without justice, and
that you will continue your reign of destruction with-
out punishment. No! the voice of these children
shall not be hushed; it will outlive these courts upheld
by the tears and suffering of a nation, rocked in the
cradle of their misery and cries of anguish. Go, ye
tyrants; the calumny will fall upon your memory and
follow you to your tombs.

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A MiDNiGFT Poem.

While writing at midnight with four in the room,

^y brain, as the morning dawned weighing,
With thought.) of the little ones now left alone.

And their grief my mii^d was portraying—
Bereft to-uight of their Icind father.

Sorrow comes to young and old—
I was thinking of the daylight

And the news which must be told,
When with daylight they'd awaken

And with one accord all rush
For the first fond kiss from papa.

And I— how sad— their hearts must crush!

Tes, to his eternal rest he is gone forever.

From the ones who loved him well,
Who will forget him never—

Shall we ever meet again?
Yes, the splendor will be greater.

For when we meet, 'twill be above.
And there see our Creator!

We can no longer watch and mourn
For him— the loved one.

Whose life on earth to us was but a charm.
We can but hope that his soul will be

As welcome in heaven,-
As the parting was sad for me.

When we four will have passed away
Will some one remember us.

And will the rememberanca be as sad
As the one who has gone to-day f

Will we be remembered
By friends once near and dear;

Or will we be forgotten.
As though we never had been here?

Memory, sad memory,
With aching hearts so sore,

Comes sorrowing and sorrowing
Alike to rich and poor ;

Though his image I will always keep,
Defy years to efface;

'Twill keep my pathway clear and bright
And in heaven I may also find

The true and only light.

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