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 'But no answer came from the graves of the dead, 
 nor the gloomier grave of the living." 
 
THE 
 
 "EVANGELINE" BOOK 
 
 READERS AND STUDENTS OF "EVANGELINE' 
 
 P. M. MUHLIG. 
 
 Chicago: 
 A. FLANAGAN, Pubi^isher. 
 
 /e 
 
;^uoi)7 
 
 Copyrighted 15 
 
 A. FI^ANAGAN. 
 
 TWO COMES RECEIVED- 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Introductory -- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Poet and Poetry 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Discovery and Setti^ement 10 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 SettIvEments and Disturbances 17 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The EXII.E 23 
 
 chapter' V. " 
 The Acadian Land _... 28 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 The Successors - y^ . . Z 35 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Successors.— Continued 41 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Acadians and Acadian Rewcs 48 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The Indians - 52 
 
 Notes and References - 57 
 
 EvANGEWNE, THE Poem - - - - - - - 69 
 
 ^iT 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 In presenting this little book, the author believes that he is 
 not encroaching on a field already well stocked with literature. 
 He knows of no book written for the same purpose as this 
 little volume. It is intended as a helper to the reader of 
 "Evangeline," and to anyone desirous of learning more of 
 Acadia and its story than the ordinary text book of the poem 
 can furnish. A complete history of Nova Scotia is not 
 attempted. Only the thread of its earlier history is given in 
 order to trace its most important events down to the Exile and 
 the "occupation." Longfellow's line "Dwells another race 
 with other customs and language," is very suggestive, and 
 forms the "text" for the sixth and seventh chapters. Is that 
 "other race" the people of Nova Scotia as they are today? 
 We think not; and we believe that the older generation, now 
 fast passing away, will agree with us. The people of today 
 have the sturdy character, the honesty and integrity of their 
 forefathers; but when we add to these the intercourse with the 
 outside world, rapid transit, the army of modern inventions, 
 and the growing advantages of education and government, we 
 have a people differing from their ancestors in many respects. 
 
 No attempt has been made to give a biographical sketch of 
 Longfellow; that can be found in any volume on American 
 Literature. 
 
 Special attention is given to the Cornwallis Valley, which 
 was the valley of the Acadians and the scene of the poem. 
 
 Indebtedness to Willoughby's "Land of the Mayflower," 
 
 Campbell's "School History of Nova Scotia," Houghton, 
 
 Mifflin & Go's "American Poems" and F. H. Eaton's article 
 
 on "Bay of Fundy Tides and Marshes," is hereby gratefully 
 
 acknowledged by 
 
 The; Author. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 Poet and Poetry. 
 
 To the end of time the early history of America will be 
 read with interest ; not only on account of the deeds of bravery, 
 fortitude, endurance and heroism ; not only for the great enter- 
 prises that with such small beginnings resulted in nations ; 
 not only for those principles involved that underlie the very 
 existence of those nations ; but also for the many true tales of 
 joy and sorrow, romance and tragedy, success aad failure, hap- 
 piness and despair, life and death, fortune and misfortune, that 
 are woven into it and therefore inseparable from it. Many of 
 these tales are lost to us or are passed by historians with but a 
 word of mention. 
 
 Here and there one of these incidents is brought to light by 
 the mind and pen of historian or poet, a Parkman or a Longfel- 
 low. Had the poem of Evangeline never been written , how little 
 would we know or learn of the story of the Acadian people. 
 What hours we use with pleasure and profit in reading and 
 studying that ever interesting poem. Why do we prefer the 
 poem rather than the brief account given in our histories? 
 Because the writer was a poet, and poets write poetry. Rhyme 
 is not poetry. Harmonious verse is not poetry. Coleridge 
 says ' * Poetry is the art of reproducing in words external 
 nature and human thoughts and affections." The true poet 
 finds sweet music and pathos in common things, as the ticking 
 of a clock or the flight of a waterfowl. Poetry results from a 
 just observation of human life — its hopes, affections, aspira- 
 tions and ideals. The last is probably the most important, 
 for the poet deals in the ideal more than the real. Our 
 
 (7) 
 
8 KVANGEI<INS. 
 
 dictionary tells us that an ideal is a conception proposed by the 
 mind for imitation, realization or attainment; a standard or 
 model of perfection or duty. It is to be attained by selecting 
 and assembling in one whole the beauties and perfections which 
 are usually seen in different individuals, excluding everything 
 defective or unseemly, so as to form a type or model. I^ong- 
 fellow wrote "The Old Clock on the Stairs." The old clock 
 which he had in mind stood in "the old-fashioned country 
 seat," which was the old Craigee House in Cambridge, once 
 used by Washington as his headquarters. Our highest and 
 best ideal is Heaven. We read these words in the ninth stanza 
 of the poem mentioned : 
 
 "Never here, forever there, 
 Where all parting, pain and care. 
 And death and time shall disappear 
 Forever there, but never here." 
 
 Can we form a higher or nobler ideal than that contained in 
 the above? In " The Bridge " there is an ideal which can be 
 readily found. 
 
 "The moon rose over the city " of Boston, 
 
 "Behind the dark church tower." / 
 
 And that dark church tower was on the old North Church, the 
 tower Paul Revere watched so eagerly on that memorable 
 night of the 18th of April, 1775. In "Paul Revere " we find 
 a grand and heroic ideal. Let us look for these ideals as we 
 read. We will find them well worth the search. There are 
 ideals in the poem of Evangeline. Have we found them? 
 Everyone, young or old, who has any wish for advancement, 
 any ambition, any desire for something better than that now 
 possessed by him, has an ideal. It may be crude and we may 
 not be aware of its existence, but it is with us at all times 
 unless it be realized. We know that it is what we strive to 
 gain and not what we have. 
 
E^VANGELINE. 9 
 
 "For two ideals I strove with eager quest. 
 The first I lost,— and why ? 
 'Twas realized. The other, unpossessed, 
 Stays with me till I die." 
 
 Why should we not strive for something higher, better and 
 purer? Many strive for riches. If we choose this ideal, let us 
 seek the true riches, for 
 
 " The riches of the commonwealth 
 Are free, strong minds and hearts of health. 
 And more to her than gold or gain 
 The cunning hand and cultured brain." 
 
 It is said that the story of Kvangeline was told to Longfellow 
 by Hawthorne, who at one time contemplated writing a prose 
 story based on the Kxile. It is further stated that the heroine 
 of the original story was named Gabrielle. After a consultation 
 between these two authors it was decided that Longfellow 
 should make it the theme of a poem. We do not regret the 
 decision. The poem has been translated into many languages. 
 Perhaps in this respect it stands next to the Bible and Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Longfellow and his works are known through all the civil- 
 ized world. He was given a place in Westminster Abbey 
 among the greatest men of the English-speaking people. 
 
 Many years ago at a social gathering in Italy, representa- 
 tives of six different nations met. During their conversation 
 they agreed that each should select and recite a quotation from 
 his favorite author. They did so, and strange to relate, every 
 selection given was from Longfellow. 
 
 Not long ago a Technological Institute costing over $400,000 
 was erected in England. On its lintel are carved these words: 
 "Art is long and time is fleeting." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 Discovery and Sktti.emknt. 
 
 The history of North America before the coming of the 
 white man will ever be comparatively unknown to us. The 
 beauties of mountain, valley, forest and shore were seen only 
 by wild men and wild beasts. No human voice was heard save 
 that of the barbarian as he met his foe in a death grapple, or 
 chanted his weird songs of war, hunting or superstitious rites. 
 But the change came. Across the ocean sailed the little 
 vessels of the Norsemen, the Genoese and the English, followed 
 closely by the French. They brought with them the civiliza- 
 tion of the old world and sowed its seed on new ground. The 
 seed thrived in this new soil even better than in the old, and 
 from that day to the present a conflict has heen waged steadily 
 here between civilization and barbarism, between freedom and 
 oppression, between liberty and slavery. The results have 
 been tremendous for the good of mankind ; but while the plan 
 was divine the instruments were but human, and consequently 
 we find here and there blots upon the record. 
 
 Previous to the year 1000, the hardy Norsemen had seen 
 the shores of North America and perhaps made temporary 
 settlements. In 1492 came Columbus, a native of Genoa, under 
 Spanish patronage. His was accepted as the real discovery, as 
 it was the first to be followed by permanent settlement. He 
 was soon followed by others, and among the first of these was 
 Americus Vespucius, who received the honor of having the 
 country named for him. In justice it should have been called 
 Columbia. In 1497 the Cabots sailed from England with a 
 commission from Henry VII, three-hundred men, and a fleet 
 of five ships and two caravels. Thej^ discovered lands to the 
 
 (10) . 
 
 I 
 
KVANGElylNK. 
 
 11 
 
 NOVA SCOTIA AND VICINITY. 
 
12 KVANGELINK. 
 
 westward, which from their rude maps are supposed to have 
 been Nova Scotia, Cape Breton Island and Newfoundland. 
 They then sailed farther to the west and reached the mainland. 
 They sailed again and northward to 67° 30', then south as far 
 as Florida. They then returned to England on account of 
 scarcity of provisions and mutiny among the crews. 
 
 For many years the English made no attempt to follow up 
 the discoveries of the Cabots by actual settlements. Under 
 Queen Elizabeth enterprise was awakened. With a patent for 
 "discovering, occupying and peopling heathen and barbarous 
 countries," Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed with an expedition 
 from England in 1583. After a voyage of one month he arrived 
 at Newfoundland, which he took formal possession of. After 
 remaining there for some time he decided to go to Sable Island 
 and re-stock his larder before taking his long voyage home- 
 ward. Captain Hays of the sole surviving vessel wrote as fol- 
 lows: "Sable lieth to the seaward of Cape Breton, about 45°, 
 whither we were determined to go upon intelligence we had of a 
 Portingall during our abode in St. John's, who was also himself 
 present when the Portingalls, about thirty years past, did put 
 into the same island both neat and swine to breed, which were 
 since exceedingly multiplied." In a dense mist and rain, with 
 a high wind, they neared this bleak land, by later mariners 
 named "The graveyard of the North Atlantic," on account of 
 the great number of wrecks on its shoals and sand bars. Here 
 Gilbert lost one vessel and one-hundred men by shipwreck. 
 Escaping from the dangers of Sable Island, he encountered a 
 fearful gale on the Grand Banks, and but one vessel survived to ij 
 tell to England that the heroic Admiral hailed them during the ' 
 storm, saying that "Heaven was as near by sea as by land," 
 and soon after, standing by the helm, sorely wounded in his 
 foot, and Bible in hand, went down beneath the waves. [See 
 note at end of this chapter.] 
 
 I 
 
EVANGELINE. 13 
 
 In 1607 Sir John Gilbert, brother of Sir Humphrey, plant- 
 ed a weak colony within what is now the state of Maine. He 
 died soon after, and the colony was broken up. The formal 
 possession taken by Sir Humphrey and the actual settlement 
 of Sir John, added to the discoveries of the Cabots, formed the 
 foundation of the claim of the crown of England to the whole 
 of its possessions in North America. 
 
 In the meantime the French had been active. At a very 
 early period adventurers had visited North America for the 
 purpose of taking possession of it for the crown of France. 
 Verrazani, in 1524, sailed along the eastern coast of the conti- 
 nent from a point one hundred and fifty miles south of Cape 
 Fear to New England. In 1534 Cartier explored the gulf and 
 river St. L^awrence. Cape Breton was known to both French 
 and English before Nova Scotia was. The French first ex- 
 plored it, and it probably received its name from the Bretons of 
 France. The French were probably the first, after Cabot, to 
 reach Nova Scotia, and they were the first to attempt its colo- 
 nization. We have already found that the Portuguese left 
 swine and cattle on Sable Island. This was about 1505. In 
 1538 the Baron de Lery attempted to plant a French colony in 
 the new world, but incessant storms so delayed the expedition 
 that it arrived off the coast too late in the season to land and 
 prepare for winter. To lighten his vessel for the return voyage 
 he left his cattle on Sable Island. With these were several 
 horses or ponies, from which have sprung the hardy, shaggy 
 ponies that still run wild on its sand dunes. In 1598 the Mar- 
 quis de la Roche was granted letters patent by Henry IV of 
 France, giving him power over the "islands and countries of 
 Canada, Sable Island, Newfoundland, and the adjacent re- 
 gions." Forty convicts from the royal prisons were given him 
 as colonists. He decided to leave his colonists upon Sable 
 Island until he had selected and prepared a place for his settle- 
 
14 
 
 EVANGKLINE. 
 
 ment. Immediately after leaving the island a great and long 
 continued storm arose, which drove his vessel so far eastward 
 that he decided to return to France. In 1603 the king sent a: 
 vessel to bring the convicts back. Twelve out of the forty] 
 were alive. They were taken to France, where each received a 
 full pardon and fifty golden crowns. 
 
 Old Earthworks at Annapolis (Port Royal). '"When as a captive I lay in the old 
 French fort at Port Royal."— Line 303. 
 
 In the year 1604 De Monts, who had been appointed goven 
 nor general of New France, came with an expedition to make 
 a settlement. After narrowly escaping shipwreck on the 
 "Graveyard of the North Atlantic," he succeeded in planting! 
 his colony in the well chosen spot where the town of Annapoliil 
 now stands. This was the Port Royal of the French. Afte 
 establishing his colony De Monts sailed along the coast, ex 
 plored his territory, traded with the Indians and made then 
 his friends. The English who settled Jamestown, Virginia, ii 
 1607, learning of the French settlement and considering i 
 within the limits of their charter, fitted out an expedition un 
 
KVANGKLINK. 15 
 
 der the command of Sir Samuel Argall, and attacked Port 
 Royal in 1613. It was easily taken. Argall found the com- 
 mission from the French king and concealed it, that he might 
 pillage the town and treat the inhabitants as pirates, on the 
 grounds that they had no authority for occupying the terri- 
 tory. Not having sufficient vessels in which to return to 
 France, some of the French accompanied Sir Samuel, at his 
 own request, to Jamestown, where they were imprisoned as pi- 
 rates, and only escaped execution by Sir Samuel's admission of 
 his concealment of the French royal commission. 
 
 NOTKS. 
 
 Sable Island belongs to Nova Scotia and is about one hun- 
 dred ten miles S. E. of Halifax. It is about twenty-five miles 
 long and one mile wide. Its surface consists of sand hills 
 formed by action of wind and water. There are no trees, but 
 most of its surface is covered with a growth of long, rank 
 grass. There is a lake of considerable size on the island. 
 Sable Island is feared and shunned by mariners at all times. 
 Its great dangers are its extensive shoals, the ocean currents 
 that sweep around it, and the thick fogs which are so preva- 
 lent on the surrounding waters. The government now main- 
 tains two lighthouses and a life saving station here. Commun- 
 ication with the island by boat is almost impossible during the 
 stormy months, but an exchange of messages is effected by 
 means of carrier pigeons. A cable is contemplated. No 
 man can tell the number of ships that have been beaten to 
 pieces on its shoals and bars, and buried in its treacherous and 
 ever shifting sands. 
 
 Before the government established a station there, the island 
 was frequented by piratical wreckers who sought the spoil cast 
 on the shore from the wrecks. Terrible stories were told of 
 these wreckers. It is said that survivors who reached the 
 
16 EVANGELINE. 
 
 shore from wrecks were murdered for their jewelry or valua- 
 bles. Sailors still tell of the ghost of a lady which walks the 
 shores of the island just before a storm, and holds up a bleed- 
 ing hand to show that a finger was severed to obtain a ring 
 she wore. 
 
 It was near this island that the Bourgogne went down in 
 
 II 
 
 SABLK ISLAND. 
 
 " Dark Isle of Mourning, aptly art thou named, 
 
 For thou hast been the cause of many a tear; 
 
 For deeds of treacherous strife too justly famed, 
 
 The Atlantic's Charnel, desolate and drear, 
 
 A thing none love, though wand 'ring thousands fear; 
 
 If for a moment rests the Muse's wing 
 
 Where through the waves th}' sandy wastes appear, 
 
 'Tis that she may one strain of horror sing, 
 
 Wild as the dashing waves that tempests o'er thee fling." 
 
 i| 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 • SKTTI.KMKNTS AND DISTURBANCES. 
 
 In the oldest records Acadia is called Cadie. Afterwards it 
 was called by various writers Accadia, L'Acadie, Acadie and 
 Acadia. Acadia under the French included Nova Scotia, New 
 Brunswick and a part of Maine. The name is probably the 
 French adaptation of a common word of the Micmac Indians who 
 lived there, and signifies place or region. Used as a suffix it 
 indicated the place where various things, such as berries, eels 
 or seals were found in abundance. The French called this 
 word Cadie or Acadie; the English called it Quoddy. Passama- 
 quoddy means the place of pollocks. Shubenacadie means the 
 place of ground nuts. 
 
 In the year 1601, James I. granted to Sir William Alexander 
 all the territory lying between the river St. Croix and the Gulf 
 of St. Eawrence. The country was named Nova Scotia (New 
 Scotland) in the grant. Sir William intended to colonize it 
 with Scotch emigrants, but failed in his attempt to do so. As 
 Sir Samuel Argall's conquest was not followed up by actual 
 settlement, the French had regained possession, and had been 
 strengthened by arrivals from France. Charles I., who suc- 
 ceeded King James, reappointed Sir William Alexander as 
 governor general of Nova Scotia, in 1624. He also founded 
 the order of Knights Baronet of Nova Scotia, who were to 
 furnish colonists, and receive therefor 16,000 acres of land each. 
 But few, if any of them, ever received their land. A party of 
 Scotch emigrants landed at Port Royal and built a fort on the 
 opposite side of the basin where the town of Granville now 
 stands. The remains of this work are still called "The Scotch 
 
 (17) 
 
18 EVANGKI.INK. 
 
 Fort." In 1632, when the Enghsh were getting well established 
 in the country, King Charles I., by the treaty of St. Germains, 
 ceded the whole of Nova Scotia and Canada to the King of 
 France. Again in full possession of the French, Acadia 
 received a French governor and many settlers. This governor, 
 Isaac de Razilly, died and was succeeded by Charnise. 
 
 While the French officers were quarrelling about their 
 several claims, an English fleet, sent out by Cromwell, easily 
 conquered them, and again the country was in English hands. 
 In 1667 it was again ceded to the French. For twenty-three 
 years Acadia remained French. During all these changes the 
 French settlers had never completely deserted Nova Scotia, but< 
 the colonists received little aid or attention from their govern- 
 ment during this period following the treaty of 1667. The 
 English colony in Massachusetts was growing rapidly, and soon 
 made ready a strong force, under Sir William Phipps, to attack 
 Acadia. They captured Port Royal and two smaller posts; 
 dismantled the forts and returned to Massachusetts. The 
 Acadians at Port Royal, with no fort or garrison, were soon 
 visited by pirates who set fire to houses, killed their cattle, 
 hanged some of the people, and burned one family after shut- 
 ting them in their house. A new commander, Villabon, came 
 from France, found the town unprotected, and decided to land 
 the stores brought by his vessel at the French fort on the St. 
 John river in New Brunswick. On his way to that place 
 pirates captured his vessel, and he barely escaped with his life. 
 He received aid from the Indians and renewed their friendship 
 for the French. 
 
 William and Mary of England gave a new charter to Mass- 
 achusetts, and included in it the colony of New Plymouth, the 
 province of Maine and Nova Scotia with the intervening lands. 
 Villabon rallied the French and Indians at the fort on the St. 
 John, and with this force captured Pemaquid, a fortification in 
 
EVANGKI.INK. 19 
 
 New England. To avenge this, Colonel Church, with five 
 hundred men, sailed from Boston and ravaged the country at 
 many points on and near the Bay of Fundy. They burned 
 churches and houses, killed the cattle, and cut the dykes. 
 
 In 1696 Nova Scotia was restored to France by the treaty 
 of Ryswick. Trouble arose over the fisheries. War again 
 broke out. The French called the pirates to their aid. They 
 came, and with the goods thus wrested from the New Eng. 
 landers the French paid their Indian allies. Colonel Church 
 came again in 1 704 , and again the country was ravaged. In 1 707 
 a thousand men from New England attacked Port Royal, but 
 were repulsed and forced to reembark. Again they landed and 
 attacked, but we're again defeated. In 1710 another expedition 
 came under General Nicholson, and this time Port Royal fell, 
 to remain in the possession of the English. The French, how- 
 ever, made many efforts to drive out their hereditary enemies. 
 They endeavored to preserve the loyalty of the French settlers, 
 they incited the Indians to attack the English, they attempted 
 to bring help from Quebec and France, and at least three at- 
 tempts were made to recapture Port Royal. But all in vain. 
 Nova Scotia w^as finally ceded to England by the treaty of 
 Utrecht in 1713. Port Royal was now named Annapolis in 
 honor of Queen Anne. 
 
 For many years few settlers came, on account of fear of at- 
 tacks by the French and Indians. Canada and Cape Breton 
 were still French, and from the latter place came aid and trade 
 to the Acadians, and assaults upon English settlers. Eouis- 
 burg was taken by an English force, but given back to the 
 French in 1748 by treaty of Aix la Chapelle. Old boundary 
 difficulties now arose; the French claiming that the treaty of 
 Utrecht ceded only the peninsula to England. In 1749 two 
 thousand five hundred seventy-six settlers arrived under the 
 leadership of Edward Cornwallis. They selected a site, and 
 
20 
 
 SVANGKi.i]sr:e. 
 
Kvangklin:^. 21 
 
 founded the city of Halifax, named in honor of the Karl of 
 Halifax, who had assisted the expedition. The French and 
 Indians visited the settlers at Halifax, and tendered their sub- 
 mission to the English authorities. Notwithstanding this 
 submission, the Indians, probably assisted by some of the 
 younger Acadians, attacked the town by night, and a number 
 of settlers were killed in the forests or captured and sold at 
 Louisburg. The governor of Halifax, to prevent these attacks 
 and protect the outlying settlements, built a fort at Windsor 
 and a blockhouse at Horton. He then called on the Acadians 
 to take the oath of allegiance to the British crown. They 
 still hoped for the French supremacy in Acadia, and they cer- 
 tainly had reasons to expect it after the many preceding 
 changes of ownership, and the repeated assurances of the French 
 in Canada and Louisburg. In consequence they refused to 
 take the oath, but again announced their submission to the 
 English. The Indians remained actively hostile. At Dart- 
 mouth, a settlement on the opposite side of Halifax harbor, 
 four men were killed and scalped, and others carried off. 
 Cornwallis organized parties to hunt the savages, and offered a 
 reward of ten guineas for every Indian scalp. 
 
 In order to strengthen their claim as to the boundary, the 
 French built Fort Beau Sejour on the isthmus. Major Lawrence, 
 in 1750, was sent to the isthmus and defeated the French and 
 Indians. In 1752 Cornwallis returned to England, and Gov- 
 ernor Hobson was sent out as his successor. In 1755 three 
 thousand men under Monckton and Winslow were sent to dis- 
 lodge the French. Beau Sejour and Gaspereaux, another post 
 near by, were taken, and the garrisons sent to Louisburg under 
 a six months' parole. 
 
 NOTKS : 
 
 1. Arcadia was the only southern state of ancient Greece 
 that had no sea coast. It was one of the most picturesque 
 
22 KVANGELINE. 
 
 regions of Greece, and perhaps of the world. Lake, mountains 
 streams, forests, meadows, fountains, glens and caves wen 
 there. Without seaports, people are not commercial. Tht 
 inhabitants, therefore, were hunters and shepherds, quiet ancl 
 peaceful, given to music and dancing. In modern languagei! 
 the term Arcadian means either beauty of natural scenery oi! 
 rusticity of manners. While the Acadians may have beer 
 Arcadian in their manners, they did not live in Arcadia anc 
 were not Arcadians. If the name Arcadia was used by somei 
 early writers, it was an error caused by the similarity of the^ 
 names. 
 
 2. The peninsula of Nova Scotia is connected to New 
 Brunswick by an isthmus twelve miles wide. The peninsula: 
 is separated from Cape Breton Island, which is a part of the 
 province, by the strait of Canso or Canseau. 
 
 3. Granville, the site of the old Scotch settlement opposite^ 
 Annapolis, was formerly called Caledonia, and is so named on^ 
 the old maps. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Exile. 
 
 About this time the English met with reverses in Canada, 
 and the Nova Scotia Governor feared another attempt by the 
 French to regain the province. He believed that if that occurred 
 the Acadians would join the invaders, and bring with them 
 the Indians to prey upon the English settlers. He took coun- 
 cil with his advisers, and it was decided to remove the Acadians 
 from Nova Scotia, and scatter them through the other English 
 colonies. Measures were taken to prepare for this without 
 alarming the Acadians. Suspecting no serious trouble, the 
 Acadians of Grand Pre, Minas and the adjoining settlements 
 came together at their church at Grand Pre, in obedience to the 
 summons of Colonel Winslow. This was on September 2nd, 
 1755, when the Acadians were busy with their harvest. The 
 majority of them attended and, to their horror and astonish- 
 ment, were informed of their intended fate. 
 
 "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's 
 
 orders. 
 Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered 
 
 his kindness 
 Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my 
 
 temper 
 Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be 
 
 grievous. 
 Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our 
 
 Monarch: 
 Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of 
 
 all kinds 
 Forfeited be to the crown: and that you yourselves from 
 
 this province 
 
 (23) 
 
^4 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell 
 
 there 
 Rver as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people ! 
 Prisoners now I declare you, for such is his Majesty's 
 
 pleasure!" 
 
 Similar action was taken at Annapolis, Cumberland and 
 other points; in all, about seven thousand souls were transpor- 
 ted. The number collected at Grand Pre was one thousand 
 nine hundred twenty-three. A few had escaped to the forest, 
 
 Cape IJlomidoii rrom the IJa.sin of Minas. 
 
 and to deprive them of sustenance all buildings were burned, 
 crops destroyed and cattle driven away. In the district 
 of Minas 255 houses, 276 barns, 155 outbuildings, 11 mills 
 and one church were destroyed. On the 10th of September 
 the people were put on board the transports. Heartbroken 
 and despairing, this whole community was carried from the 
 only homes many of its members had ever known. They 
 could carry nothing with them but a few household goods. 
 Their crops, on which they subsisted, were gone. Their houses, 
 
Evangklin:^. 25 
 
 in which they were born and in which they had spent so many 
 happy days, were in ashes. Their cattle were slaughtered or 
 driven away. Their farms had forever passed from their owner- 
 ship; and they themselves were carried to the English colonies 
 along the Atlantic coast, and landed among a people hostile to^ 
 the French nation, speaking a language unknown to them, of 
 a religion at variance with theirs, and unwilling or unable to 
 provide for their maintenance. Their condition was truly 
 pitiable. Is it surprising that their sufferings and wrongs 
 appeal to us strongly even at this late day? 
 
 Some found their way to Louisiana where their language 
 was spoken; some went to the western frontier and engaged in 
 hunting and trapping; some went to Canada; others remained 
 among the English; a number were sent to England by the 
 people of Virginia and South Carolina, after asking the Gover- 
 nor of Nova Scotia for money for their support; a few found 
 their w^ay back to Nova Scotia, and, joining those who had 
 escaped exile, formed little settlements; and their descendants 
 live^to-day in their Acadian land and still preserve the old dress 
 and customs of their forefathers. 
 
 "Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its 
 
 branches 
 Dwells another race, with other customs and language. 
 Only along the shore of the mournful and mystic Atlantic 
 Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile 
 Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. 
 In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy; 
 Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of 
 
 homespun, 
 And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story." 
 
 Some of the Acadians had signified their willingness to take 
 the oath of allegiance when they saw that exile was forthcom- 
 ing, but this privilege was refused them. They had asked to 
 
26 EVANGEIvINK. 
 
 be permitted to remove to the French colony in Louisburg, but 
 this had been refused on the grounds that it would add to the 
 strength of the force already there, and increase the danger of 
 incursions. They had been threatened with removal, but did h 
 not fully understand the penalty. Something had to be done 
 to settle this vexed Acadian question ; but we shudder as we 
 contemplate the full results of the settlement as carried out. 
 After the exile of the Acadians, the home government desired 
 that the land should be occupied by disbanded soldiers. The 
 governor of Nova Scotia objected, claiming that they were not 
 the proper material for a new colony. The governor was per- 
 mitted to adopt his own plans, and he proceeded to invite set- 
 tlers from New England, through the provincial agent at 
 Boston. As a result several hundred settlers came from 
 Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island. 
 
 The power of the French in the new world was rapidly 
 waning. In 1758 Louisburg surrendered to Amherst, Prince 
 Edward's Island was taken soon after, and in 1759 Quebec fell. 
 By this final victory the English became masters of all Canada. 
 By the treaty of Paris in 1763, the French gave up all claim to 
 Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, Canada, and many islands in the 
 Gulf of St. Lawrence. 
 
 When the American Revolution broke out and the Thirteen 
 United Colonies declared themselves free and independent in 
 1776, the province of Nova Scotia remained loyal to the crown, 
 although there was some dissatisfaction. Immediately after 
 the close of the war Nova Scotia received a large addition to 
 its population by the emigration of loyalists from the states. 
 Between fifteen thousand and twenty thousand of these refu- 
 gees landed at different ports of the province. Many of them 
 found homes in the valley that was the former home of the 
 Acadians. 
 
^VANGKLINK. 27 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 1 . The people of Acadia were mainly the descendants of 
 lolonists brought out by Isaac de Razilly and Charnise between 
 he years 1633 and 1638. These colonists came from Rochelle, 
 ^aintonge, and Poitou, so that they were drawn from a very 
 imited area on the west coast of France, covered by the mod- 
 ern departments of Vendee and Charente Inferieure. This 
 ircumstance had some influence on their mode of settling the 
 ands of Acadia, for they came from a country of marshes, 
 ^here the sea was kept out by artificial dykes, and they found 
 n Acadia similar marshes, which they dealt with in the same 
 Nay that they had been accustomed to practice in France. — 
 Ha7i7iaf s History of Acadia. 
 
 2. The Gaspereau is a stream flowing from the southwest 
 into the Basin of Minas, near Grand Pre. At its mouth the 
 A^cadians embarked. This must not be confused with the post 
 Df the same name on the isthmus. 
 
 3. The Cornwallis mentioned as the governor of Nova 
 Scotia, was not the CornwalHs of the Revolution. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 Thk Acadian Land. 
 
 ••A land which floweth with milk and honey." 
 ''And ye shall dispossess the inhabitants thereof 
 and dwell therein." 
 
 The site of the first settlement by De Monts, and the region 
 made famous by Longfellow's poem, are both in the valley 
 formed by two ridges of highlands called the North and the 
 South mountain. This valley extends through the counties of 
 Annapolis and King's. The North mountain fronts on the 
 shore of the Bay of Fundy, and extends from Digby Cut, at the 
 entrance to Annapolis Basin, northeastwardly to Capes Blom- 
 idon and Split at the entrance of the Basin of Minas. The 
 South mountain is neither as steep nor as high as the North, 
 but extends nearly parallel to it. To the westward through 
 this valley, runs the Annapolis river, emptying into Annapolis 
 Basin at the site of old Port Royal. In the broader eastern 
 end of the valley, which drains into Minas Basin, there are many 
 streams: — the Gaspereau, Cornwallis, Canard, Pereau and 
 Habitant rivers. The land drained by these rivers is the most 
 fertile and highly cultivated of any in the province. It is fitly 
 called the "Garden of Nova Scotia. " Along the western shore 
 of Minas Basin, from Grand Pre to the foothills of the North 
 Mountain, are the dyke .lands reclaimed from the sea by the 
 French and their successors. This dyke land is the most val- 
 uable of the many soils found in the valley. In most instances 
 of alluvial deposits in other parts of the world, the deposit is 
 brought to the sea by the rivers. Here we find the process is 
 
 (28) 
 
EVANGELINK. 
 
 29 
 
 Map of Annapolis and Kings Counties. 
 
30 KVANGELINE. 
 
 reversed, and the deposit is brought up the rivers by the sea. 
 This alluvial matter comes from the shores and bottom of the 
 basin and bay, from whence it is torn by the mighty tides 
 which ever sweep back and forth through their channels. The 
 torrent sweeps up the Bay of Fundy and enters the Basin at 
 Cape Split, where it reaches a velocity of ten or twelve miles 
 an hour. Here it reaches its greatest height of seventy feet 
 above low water mark. In some of the Acadian rivers, the 
 upward f\o\\ of the tide against the fresh water current forms 
 a wall of water called the bore of the tide. This sweeps up 
 the stream at a rapid rate, and with a loud rushing sound. The 
 height of the bore illustrated on page 42 is 5 feet 4 inches. 
 
 The largest unbroken tract of dyke land in the province 
 is the Grand Pre, or Great Meadow, in Horton. This tract 
 the Acadians reclaimed by building dykes from either end 
 of Long Island to the mainland. South of Long Island, 
 where the upland rises from the Grand Pre, was the village of 
 the Acadians. In the field just in front of the row of old 
 French willows, can still be seen the cellar of the house which 
 is supposed to be the one used as Colonel Winslow's head- 
 quarters during his momentous visit. Here, too, is the site of 
 the village church. The old French well marks the site of the 
 village green, and a little farther eastward was the Acadian 
 cemetery. The village probably extended irregularly from the 
 church southward to the higher lands. Along the line of the 
 village street may be seen many willows, the old French apple 
 trees, the grave of an English soldier who died at the time of 
 the exile, and the site of the village smithy. To the north- 
 ward of the row of willows first mentioned, stretches the great 
 meadow from which the village received its name; and beyond 
 that is Long Island, easily distinguished by the trees and 
 houses upon it. 
 
EVANG^UN^. 
 
 31 
 
 
 
 o cs o 
 
 Co 
 
 01 
 »-l ^ ♦J 
 
 •^ c "^ 
 
 lie 
 
 :: OT d 
 
 
32 " EVANGKLINK. 
 
 "And away to the northward 
 
 Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the 
 mountains 
 
 Sea fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty 
 Atlantic 
 
 Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station 
 descended." 
 Blomidon is plainly seen to the northward, and very often 
 the * 'mists from the mighty Atlantic" roll in great masses over 
 the top of the North mountain and hide much of it from view. 
 At such times the mist or fog rarely descends to the valley. 
 Great detached masses of fog often hang on the side or summit 
 of Blomidon, and can be seen plainly from the land or from 
 the waters of the Basin. Blomidon is a bluff headland of red 
 sandstone, surmounted by a perpendicular wall of basaltic trap, 
 the whole about six hundred feet high. This headland is a 
 rich field for the geologist, as the varieties of specimens found 
 are numerous and interesting. In the spring, after the severe 
 frosts of winter, great masses are detached from its sides, and 
 crash downward to be ground by the relentless tides. The I 
 geologist must work among these masses at low water, because 
 at high tide the sea washes the face of the cliff. Many beauti- 
 ful specimens of amethyst are found. The underlying sand- 
 stone is worn away by tidal action, and this hastens the fall 
 of the trap rock from above. 
 
 The soil of the dyke lands consists mainly of a large per- 
 centage of silica, the iron which gives the reddish color, cal- 
 careous matter, and various salts of potash, lime, alumina, etc. 
 This combination is a most favorable one, and its fertility is 
 increased by sediment brought by the streams from the uplands. 
 For nearly two hundred years these dyke lands have been pro- 
 ducing from two to four tons per acre of the finest hay, and 
 have also furnished autumn pasturage for cattle. The marsh 
 mud is taken from tidal streams or rivers in autumn or winter, 
 
^VANGELINB. 33 
 
 and used as a fertilizer on the uplands, with excellent re- 
 sults. 
 
 Apples and potatoes are the principal products of the valley, 
 and are shipped mostly to England and the West Indies. 
 Grapes, berries, plums, cherries, and various vegetables are 
 successfully raised. Wheat, rye, and oats are a profitable crop, 
 but the amount produced is much smaller per acre than on 
 the prairies of our west and northwest. The longevity of 
 apple trees is apparent when we notice, as stated above, that 
 apple trees planted by the French are still living. The forests 
 supply spruce, fir, pine, hemlock, birch, beech, maple, oak, 
 elm, and other woods, — in fact nearly all the varieties required 
 for housebuilding and shipbuilding. The sea supplies cod, 
 herring, mackerel, lobsters, salmon, shad, smelts, gaspereau 
 or alewives, haddock, pollock, flounders, sea-bass, sturgeon, 
 and many other fish; while the streams contain an abundance 
 of speckled trout. 
 
 In the woods are moose, caribou, bear, the timber wolf, fox, 
 lynx, wild-cat, porcupine, rabbit and skunk. Otter, mink and 
 musk-rat are in the streams and ponds. Of birds there are 
 geese, ducks, plover, snipe, woodcock and partridge. From 
 the fields and woods are gathered checkerberries, hazel nuts, 
 beech nuts, strawberries, blueberries, huckleberries, cranber- 
 ries, juniper berries, red raspberries, blackberries, gooseber- 
 ries, bunchberries, and spruce gum. The dainty and beautiful 
 mayflower abounds. 
 
 In this short chapter we can learn but little of the many 
 resources and advantages of this wonderful country, but we 
 certainly are convinced that it is "a land which floweth with 
 milk and honey." 
 
 NOTIJS. 
 
 1. Dyke lands are worth from $300 to $400 per acre. 
 
 2. The amount given as the maximum yield per acre of 
 
34 KVANGELINK. 
 
 hay on the dyke lands is four tons. This is considered fairly 
 accurate, as the author knows of a yield of 44 T. 1800 lbs. from 
 ten acres, and can furnish data from many reliable sources that 
 place the amount at the figures given. 
 
 3. It is stated on good authority that four hundred bushels 
 of potatoes were grown on one acre of ground near Kentville. 
 
 4. The name "gaspereau" is a local name applied to the 
 alewives, for the reason that the Gaspereau is the only stream 
 they ascend from the Basin of Minas. The Gaspereau is the 
 only one of these streams that has its source in a lake, and the 
 alewives probably seek this lake for spawning. 
 
 5. King's County raises 225,000 bushels of potatoes yearly. 
 The estimated yearly apple product of King's and Annapolis 
 counties is 500,000 bbl. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The: Succkssors. 
 
 "Dwells another race with other customs and language." 
 
 The settlers who came to the valley after the Exile, were a 
 hardy and industrious people. As many of them came from 
 New England, they brought with them the customs, dress, 
 habits and religious views of New England. These were 
 somewhat modified by the presence of settlers from Great 
 Britain, and the trade with that country. We know but little 
 of the social condition and affairs of these people during the 
 first years of the occupation, but, as they were without rail- 
 road, telegraph or steamboat, it is fair to presume that there 
 was little change previous to the year 1800. 
 
 The houses were warmed and the cooking done by means 
 of the fireplace, with its necessary andirons, shovel, tongs, 
 poker, bellows, crane, bake-kettle and brick oven. The baking 
 was mainly done in the brick oven. Quarters of meat, six or 
 eight loaves of bread, a loaf of cake, and a half dozen pies was 
 considered no unusual quantity to put into one oven at one 
 time. Often a loaf of bread or cake, or a pudding, was baked 
 in the bake-kettle over the fire. The bake-kettle was a round 
 iron kettle about ten inches deep, and had an iron cover. It 
 was hung on the crane over a slow fire. When baking, coals 
 were put on the cover. The baking thus done was very satis- 
 factory. Often, what was called short-cake, made like our 
 biscuit, was baked before the fire in a long handled frying pan, 
 the handle resting on a chair. Pancakes were fried in this 
 same pan, and the cook would turn the cake without knife or 
 lifter, but by a quick movement of the hand and arm. One 
 
 (3.5) 
 
36 KVANGKLINK. 
 
 young lady was thus frying cakes while a young man, who 
 was greatly interested in her, sat in the chimney corner watch- 
 ing her dexterously turning them. Something that confused 
 her must have been said, for she missed the turn on one, and it, 
 landed in his lap, raw side down. 
 
 Everyone kept sheep. The sheep were sheared , the wool was 
 picked and greased, and taken to the carding machine, where it 
 was made into rolls. It was then taken home, and spun into 
 yarn on the big wheel. From there it went to the loom where 
 it was woven into blankets, and cloth for men's clothes and 
 women's dresses for everyday use. No young lady was ready 
 to be married until she had prepared a stock of home made 
 blankets, so much needed in that climate. 
 
 Flax was raised, cleansed of the tow, or hard part, on the 
 hatchel, a board with long iron teeth, and spun on the little 
 wheel. The product was then woven, and this too was an im- 
 portant part of a young lady's dowry, 
 
 Wheat bread and rye bread were used; also much corn 
 meal. "Fine bread was of wheat, "coarse bread" was of 
 rye. Coal oil came into use about 1840. Before that time, 
 and to a great extent for many years after, the light used was 
 from dipped or moulded candles. 
 
 At church the conduct of old and young was governed by 
 rigid rules. All actions in the house of God were most sedate 
 and exemplary. Sunday school began at 9:00 A. m. and lasted 
 until 10:45. Then an intermission of fifteen minutes was given 
 for children to walk in the graveyard, read the inscriptions on 
 the tombstones, and eat their lunches. Church services began 
 at 11 o'clock. After the sermon, liberty w^as given to anyone 
 desiring to speak. In the Presbyterian church they sang the 
 Psalms of David, in the Baptist church Watts' hyms were 
 used, and with the Methodist church came Wesley's hymns. 
 Pews were either owned or rented. When a family had entered 
 
KVANGKLINK. 
 
 37 
 
 their pew the door was closed and buttoned. Many pews had 
 a low seat along one side for the children, who were not 
 allowed to be conspicuous. During the prayer all stood and 
 faced about, except in the Methodist church, where all knelt. 
 The negro pews were in the gallery. Negroes were not 
 allowed to enter the body of the church. 
 
 Little girls wore short dresses, as they do now, but with 
 pantalets down to the shoe-tops. Their shoes were not high 
 
 Port Williams Bridge, Cornwallis Kiver, Tide out. 
 
 laced or buttoned, but low, with two or three pairs of eyelets 
 for laces. Their hats had very broad brims. Beads of glass, 
 West India peas, or gold were much worn. The boys wore 
 long pants and boots, short jackets, and flat topped caps with 
 glazed visors. After the days of stocks, knee-pants and large 
 buckles, the men wore white beaver hats, "swallow-tailed" 
 coats with brass or horn buttons, vests of various colors, and 
 white or black trousers. For work in the woods in winter, 
 many men wore rawhide moccasins. In winter, the older men 
 
38 EVANGEUNE. 
 
 wore long camelot cloaks fastened at the throat by a chain. 
 The old ladies wore long cloaks of broadcloth or shepherd's 
 plaid. Large bonnets were worn, and in due time came the 
 kind called the "scoop" bonnet. 
 
 Children did not have the toys and playthings of to-day. 
 A wax doll or a London doll was a luxury and rarity. A 
 whole family of rag dolls usually inhabited the garret. An 
 old dormer window was also a favorite play house. 
 
 At school, the desks consisted of a board placed slantwise, 
 and extending along the wall on three sides of the school-room. 
 In front of this "desk" was a bench for the pupils, and under 
 the "desk" was a horizontal board for the books. When the 
 pupils wrote they faced the wall; when they studied or recited 
 they swung their feet over the bench and faced the center of 
 the room. Classes studied their spelling aloud and in unison, 
 swaying together on the bench as the cadence rose and fell. 
 When a school became crowded, a double "desk" with its 
 benches was built down the middle of the room. Most school- 
 houses were built with a dungeon, a small room with no win- 
 dows, for the confinement of refractory pupils. Quill pens 
 were used, and the teacher kept them in repair. When the 
 school had a lady teacher, all the girls took their "work" and 
 learned to sew. The teacher basted most of the work. After 
 learning to sew, each girl was expected to work a "sampler," 
 which was a small square of canvas, around the edge of which 
 a vine with fruit was worked with crewels. Inside the vine 
 was the name of the worker, her age, the alphabet, and some- 
 times a motto, a bird or an animal. The boys had but few 
 playthings except those made with a jack knife. They played 
 ball, hide and seek, tag and various other games similar to those 
 of to-day. Girls and boys played together "Old Mother Hop- 
 pity Clink," "Thornaway," "The Spanish Knight" or "The 
 Rich Widow." 
 
EVANGELINE. 
 
 39 
 
 Mother: 
 
 Knight: 
 
 Mother : 
 
 Knight: 
 
 SPANISH KNIGHT. 
 
 *'My daughter Jane she is too young 
 
 To be ruled by your false, flattering tongue.' 
 
 "Then fare-thee-well, my lady gay, 
 For I must turn another way." 
 
 "Turn back, turn back, ye Spanish Knight, 
 And scour your boots and spurs so bright." 
 
 "My boots and spurs they cost you naught, 
 For in this town they were not bought; 
 So, fare-thee-well, my lady gay, 
 For I must go another way. ' ' 
 
 RICH WIDOW. 
 
 "I am a rich widow; 
 
 I live all alone; 
 
 I have but one daughter 
 
 And she is my own. 
 
 Come choose you a good one 
 
 Or choose you none." 
 
 The young men gathered birch bark, which was used to 
 make ''lighters" for lighting the candles, kindling fires, and 
 also to spread on the house under the shingles, to keep out the 
 cold of winter. They gathered rushes for bottoming chairs. 
 They gathered the moss from the uplands, and in summer the 
 parlor fireplace was filled with it. In forest or field they saw 
 blackbirds, jays, bob-o' -links, robins, the great snowy owl, the 
 big brown owl, and the little screech owl. The little red 
 squirrel was common, crows and gulls were numerous, and in 
 some localities the raven was found. The housewife gathered 
 for medicinal uses lobelia, catnip, boneset, tansy, wormwood, 
 
40 KVANGEWNK. 
 
 motherwort, celandine, pith elder and sumac. From th( 
 shores and mud flats came an abundance of clams and scallops 
 called by the people "skim shells," because they were exten 
 sively used for skimming milk. 
 
 From the rocks, at low water, was picked an edible sea weec 
 called dulse. 
 
 Port Williams Bridge, Cornwallis River, Tide in. 
 NOTES. 
 
 1. The English custom of turning to the left when meet- 
 ing on the highway was adopted. 
 
 2. The principal roads running east and west through this 
 part of the valley were called streets. 
 
 3. In one of the old church-yards was a head-stone at the 
 grave of "Hannah English and Child, 1767." This head- 
 stone was broken, through age or accident, and in the summer 
 of 1897 it was stolen by some relic hunting tourist. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Thk Successors — Continukd. 
 
 The principal market for their products was Halifax, about 
 ;ixty-five or seventy miles away. Two or three times a year 
 :he trip to market was made. If the load was light, one horse 
 A^as used; if heavy, three to five horses were driven tandem. 
 The produce taken consisted of mutton, pork, cheese, eggs, 
 ^eese, chickens, butter, apples, hay, and dozens of pairs of 
 socks and mittens. Geese were sold per piece, and chickens by 
 the pair, all cleaned and ready to cook. Prices varied, but 
 were about 5c to 7c for mutton, 50c for geese, and 25c to 40c 
 per pair for chickens. They brought back cotton cloth, ribbons, 
 thread, sugar, silks, rum and molasses. The country stores 
 kept a general stock from shingle nails to West India rum. 
 The dry goods came from England. The currency was pounds, 
 shillings and pence, consisting of English gold, silver and cop- 
 per, with one pound and five pound notes of paper. Spanish 
 and French coins were also in circulation. 
 
 The vehicles used were the "OneHoss Shay," the gig, the 
 caracole, and later the wagonette. For hauling loads they 
 used the wagon and the ox-cart. One variety of the latter, 
 with broad wooden rims and no tire, was used on the soft ground 
 of the dyke lands. To draw the stage coaches, four or six 
 horses were used. The plows had wooden mould-boards covered 
 with strips of band iron, and the shares were made and fitted 
 to the mould-boards by the blacksmiths. All muskets and 
 fowling pieces were flint-locks. Water was drawn from the 
 wells by means of the well-sweep. Much of the travel was on 
 horseback, and saddle-bags and pistol holsters were in common 
 
 (41) 
 
42 
 
 KVANGELINB, 
 
 use. In winter the warming-pan, a large, round, shallo\ 
 metal pan with a metal cover and a long handle, was filled wil 
 live coals from the fireplace, and pushed between the blanke' 
 to warm the beds before retiring. 
 
 These people had a firm belief in witchcraft, ghosts, sign; 
 and charms. A black cat shut in the oven and a wish mac 
 
 The -'Bore" of the Tide. Height of Wave, 5 ft. 4 in. 
 
 for some one to come, would certainly bring the person wished 
 tor. A black cat put under a tub would prevent any one from 
 coming. The tongs turned upside down would bring the one 
 wished for. 
 
 A woman once put a black cat under a tub, to prevent the 
 coming of some one from over the water. Such a violent 
 and terrible storm arose that she became frightened, let the cat 
 out, and the storm abated at once. 
 
KVANGKI.INE. 
 
 43 
 
 Here and there were old women, said to be witches. People 
 ring near them could not get their butter to come; cattle were 
 :k or chickens died, and of course the old woman had bewitched 
 .em. One old woman in particular, had often been known 
 . disappear suddenly, while walking up a steep hill in company 
 ith others. Her companions, on proceeding to the top of the 
 .11, would find her seated there quietly waiting for them, with 
 ) traces of effort or fatigue. A horse-shoe was often placed 
 /er the door, to counteract or prevent the witches' influence, 
 inger-nails were cut on Friday to prevent the toothache, 
 ne old lady, while cutting her nails on that day, gave as her 
 tason for so doing, that it was a sure preventive of tooth- 
 :he. She had not, at that time, a tooth in her head. The new 
 lOon, first seen over the right shoulder, brought good luck; 
 ien over the left shoulder, it brought bad luck. When seen 
 ver the right shoulder and a wish made, the wish would surely 
 e fulfilled. Among the young people it was said, that the first 
 nmarried person of the opposite sex, seen on St. Valentine's 
 lorning, would be the future companion of the person so 
 
 seing. 
 
 Hallow-e'en was celebrated in various ways. That was the 
 ivorite time for working charms, and seeking knowledge of the 
 Liture. Spirits walked the earth on that night, and therefore 
 ome supernatural effects were to be expected. If a young lady 
 ook a handful ot hemp seed, and walked once around the out- 
 ide of the house, sowing the seed as she walked, and repeating 
 hese words: 
 
 "Hemp seed, I sow thee. 
 Whomsoever I'm to have 
 Come after me and mow thee," 
 
 md looked over her shoulder as she completed the circuit, she 
 vould certainly see the mate of future years. 
 
44 KVANGKlylNE. Ij 
 
 If yarn, unwound from a ball in the hand, be let down s 
 well, a pull would be felt, and the holder must ask who it was: 
 in answer, a name would be pronounced from the depths of the 
 well. 
 
 Cabbage was migratory on Hallowe'en. From the gardenj 
 of those who had a large quantity, it mysteriously traveled t( 
 the homes of the poor, who had little or none. Gates changed 
 places, and other strange doings occurred; but no damage was 
 done to property. 
 
 In fixing the time for planting or sowing, making soapj 
 and for many other operations, strict attention was paid to th 
 phases of the moon, and much dependence placed upon choos 
 ing a favorable time according to that luminary. 
 
 A popular ghost story was to the effect that a ghost visited^ 
 the living, after they had retired for the night, and that a cold 
 clammy hand was pressed upon them, coming unexpectedly 
 out of the darkness. Once a girl, a firm believer in ghosts 
 had been listening to this, and similar stories told around the 
 fireplace in the evening. She went up to her room, feeling 
 very nervous and frightened. On getting into bed, she covered 
 up her head in dread of she knew not what. To her horror 
 she felt a soft pressure on her feet. This soft touch stole to- 
 ward her head, gradually and silently. She tried to scream, 
 but could not. But, in her agony, she at last heard, near hei 
 head, a sound that ended the trouble. It was the purring ol 
 her pet cat. The "ghost" was at once joyfully recognized. 
 
 At various times and places, ghostly noises were heard, such 
 as groans, and the rattling of chains; but we suspect that the 
 solution in each case would have been as simple as that of the 
 ghostly hand we have just read of. 
 
 Many were the stories of pirates' gold and Captain Kidd's 
 treasure. On the face of the cliff at Blomidon, a cave was said 
 to exist, that contained a vast quantity of treasure. Some 
 
KVANGEWNE. 
 
 45 
 
 renturesome spirits tried to reach and explore it. They returned 
 mpty handed, saying that they found the entrance guarded by 
 L great serpent. This was in summer. Later they went again, 
 Ind this time said they were driven back by a skeleton sentinel, 
 Lrmed with a sword and a blunderbuss. A third time the effort 
 
 The pipe stems and pipe bowls are from Acadian cellars.. Bit of wood at 
 extreme rSht Is from French apple tree. The three shells m front are the 
 Slop or '^kim'' shells. The bottle completely covered with basket work 
 was covered by Micmac Indians. The old Bible in center is the one mentioned 
 m the note The other articles shown belonged to the early settlers of the 
 province some were brought from Scotland and England and some came 
 from Conne?tTcul about 1780. Among them are copper articles, horn spoons 
 and some very old china. 
 
 was made by those who knew the secret of the difficult way to 
 the cave. This time they took with them a charm procured 
 from a negro voodoo doctor, which was proof against spirits or 
 snakes. When they neared the cave, they discovered an armed 
 party of rough characters in ambush in the woods, ready to 
 
46 EVANGKUNE. 
 
 take by force any treasure they might secure. A third time 
 they returned unsuccessful, and soon after this, the cave was 
 hidden, and the path to it carried away, by a fall of rock. 
 
 The Isle au Haut, in the Bay of Fundy, was believed to 
 contain buried treasure, but it was asserted that when a party 
 landed from a vessel, and began to dig in a certain place, a 
 violent storm arose, which threatened to tear the vessel fromi 
 its moorings. When the party rushed to the beach, the sea 
 and air at once became still; but upon their return to their 
 digging, the same disturbance occurred, and they were forced 
 to abandon further effort for treasure. 
 
 An old man died, who had been considered as a blasphemer 
 by the stricter church people. Those who watched with him 
 at his death declared that just as the spirit left his body, a 
 beast, resembling a great black dog, came from under the bed, 
 sprang through the window, and vanished in the night. 
 
 At one of the inns, numerous guests had refused to remain 
 a second night, in a certain room of the house. They one and 
 all declared that they heard a voice saying repeatedly, ''Want 
 to be shaved?" "Want to be shaved?" The landlord investi- 
 gated, and found that a tree branch, blown by the wind, raked 
 across the window with a noise that was almost an exact re- 
 production of the words the guests said they had heard. 
 
 An old clock, that had been in a certain family for many 
 years, is said to have foretold the death of at least five members 
 of that family, by striking between the hours, with no mistake 
 in the strikes of the following hour. This was solemnly as- 
 serted by several members of the family, who said they heard it. 
 
 Suicide was almost unheard of. One case occurred, of 
 which we have record. An old lady took her own life; and, 
 according to the old law, she was buried where four roads met, 
 and a stake was driven through the body. 
 
 The young folks were thoroughly taught lessons of polite- 
 
HVANGELINE. 
 
 47 
 
 less. Boys, on entering a school-room, bowed to their teacher. 
 3n entering a room in a house, or while walking on the high- 
 N3.y, they always bowed to their elders. Girls, on similar 
 Dccasions, ''dropped a courtesy." One girl, who had been 
 ihoroughly drilled in these matters, was one day walking on 
 [he road, when she met a funeral. Mindful of her training, 
 she stopped, and courtesied to each person in the procession. 
 
 Before leaving this chapter we will notice a little story of 
 one of the school-masters of the old times. Some mischievous 
 neighboring boys poked a stick through his pantry window at 
 night, knocking down a pile of pans. His wife, awakened by 
 the noise, called him and told him there were thieves in the 
 house. His reply was, "Ann, get the broom and drive 'em 
 out."— And immediately he resumed his sleep. 
 
 NOTKSj 
 
 1. The author has in his possession the Bible of the old 
 lady who committed suicide. The book was printed in 1725. 
 
 2. One boy, when not quite 14 years old, repeatedly made 
 the trip to Halifax with his load of produce. When we con- 
 sider his age, the value of his load, the distance traveled, 
 stopping at inns among strangers, the then wild country 
 through which he drove, and the great amount of purchases 
 made for the return journey after marketing his produce, we 
 consider this quite an achievement. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Acadians and Acadian Rki.ics. 
 
 Many tales were told regarding valuables concealed by the 
 Acadians. It was declared by many that descendants of the 
 French came to the province at various times, and dug up 
 treasure left by their ancestors. It must be true, for had they 
 not seen "with their own eyes" the hole where the digging 
 was done? Much, if not all, of this digging was done by young 
 men of the neighborhood, who were searching for the traditional 
 wealth of the Acadians. The truth of the matter is probably 
 this: The Acadians were not a wealthy people. They had 
 little or no money, and but few articles of value. If they owned 
 any jewelry it was probably in the form of heirlooms of such 
 small size that they could easily be worn, or hidden in the 
 household goods which they were permitted to take away with 
 them. They knew that they would not return, and they would 
 not be likely to bury such articles as the ones mentioned, and 
 under such conditions. 
 
 A region that is as important to the student of Acadia and 
 its Acadian remains as any in the valley, not excepting Grand 
 Pre, is the country on the north side of the road leading from 
 Upper Canard to Upper Dyke Village. Three or four French 
 orchards stood here, and the remains of numerous French 
 cellars and wells prove the previous existence of an Acadian 
 settlement of considerable importance. In the old days, many 
 articles used by the Acadians were found here. A descendant 
 of the Acadians came to this region many years ago, and made 
 careful inquiry and thorough search for an apple tree contain- 
 ing some links of a chain. He said that his ancestors had left 
 
 (48) 
 
EVANGKI.INK. 49 
 
 articles buried near this tree; and if the tree were found he 
 could find the articles buried, by following directions handed 
 down to him. His search was in vain; but he found an old, 
 white-haired negro who remembered the chopping of the tree. 
 He could tell the orchard it was in, but could not locate the 
 position of the tree. He remembered the finding of the chain, 
 and described it accurately. 
 
 Some of the old French wells are still used. A very old 
 Frenchman lived in this neighborhood as late as 1825. His 
 house was said to be one that escaped burning by the English. 
 It is probable that every Acadian cellar (and some that are not 
 Acadian) has been probed in the useless search for valuables. 
 Many a sturdy apple tree was undermined by the searchers, 
 and many articles, considered valueless by them, but of greatest 
 value to the collector or student of today, were lost or destroyed. 
 
 Near Port Williams, there was a deep place in the Cornwallis 
 river, into which, tradition tells us, the French cast their valu- 
 ables from the church. Another tradition is to the effect that 
 the bell from the church at Grand Pre was filled with gold 
 and silver articles, and sunk in the mud of the marshes. 
 
 The apples of the Acadians were of both sweet and sour 
 varieties. They were not large apples, but the trees yielded 
 large crops. 
 
 The Acadian relics that are actually found consist of a few 
 articles, most of them rudely made, that tend to prove that 
 they were used by a people who were poor as to money or 
 articles of value; that things of luxury were unknown to them; 
 and that they toiled to cultivate the soil, reclaim the marshes, 
 and raise their crops and herds, to supply themselves with food 
 and clothing. From the fields and cellars, are dug, from time 
 to time, old ploughshares, coulters, spades, hoes, axes, hatchets, 
 hammers, scythes, pitchforks, wrought-nails, bits of glass of a 
 poor quality, links of chain, iron kettles of difierent sizes, and 
 
50 
 
 EVANGELINK. 
 
 clay pipes and broken pipe stems. Some of these pipes bear the 
 name of R. Tippet as the maker. Who R. Tippet was, and 
 where the pipes were made, is a question not yet decided. 
 Pipes of this same maker have been found in Indian graves of 
 north-central New York, and on Manhattan Island. Were the 
 pipes French, or were they English? 
 
 If we look on the valley at the season described by Long- 
 fellow when, 
 
 Relics taken from the old French well at Grand Pre. 
 
 "Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and 
 
 the landscape 
 Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood," 
 
 and see through the "soft still air the Basin of Minas," and 
 "the ships with their wavering shadows" lying at anchor, we 
 do not think it strange that tales and legends were numerous 
 among the Acadians and their successors. How could it be 
 otherwise with such surroundings? We have no doubt of the 
 existence of such stories and "signs" as: 
 
 1. The finding of the lucky stone in the nest of the 
 swallow. 
 
 2. The luck attending the finding of a horseshoe. 
 
EVANGEUNE. 51 
 
 3. The lyoup-garou or we re- wolf of the forest. 
 
 4. The gobHii that came in the night to water the horses. 
 
 5. The white I^etiche, the ghost of the child who 
 unchristened died. 
 
 6. The talking of oxen in the stables on Christmas eve. 
 
 7. The curing of fever by a spider shut in a nut shell. 
 
 8. The luck attending the finding of a four leaved clover. 
 
 9. The signs of a hard winter, as foretold by the large sup- 
 ply of honey laid up by the bees, and the unusually thick fur 
 of the foxes. 
 
 "With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village." 
 The lines of the poem of Evangeline containing the state- 
 ment that 
 
 "At stated seasons the flood gates 
 
 Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the 
 meadows," 
 have been criticized. 
 
 In the Cornwallis valley it has never been necessary to 
 admit the tides. When the dykes have been broken by a great 
 storm, and the salt water has swept over the meadows, two or 
 three years have elapsed before the grass fully recovered from 
 the effects. But there is a foundation for the lines quoted 
 above. In the Chignecto region there are tracts of marsh lands 
 that do not contain the ingredients found in the dyke lands of 
 other localities, and therefore their fertility does not endure. 
 To renew them the sea is admitted at intervals, and by a new 
 deposit their fertility is assured for another period. 
 
 Notes : 
 
 1 . It is interesting to note the agreement of the implements 
 and articles mentioned in the poem with the list of relics found. 
 
 2. Pipes have been found in the Acadian cellars in a posi- 
 tion which verifies lyongfellow's line : 
 
 "Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of 
 tobacco." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 Thk Indians. 
 
 The native Indians of Nova Scotia were the Micmacs, and 
 many members of this tribe still live in the province. The 
 early Micmacs were a warlike tribe, wandering from place to 
 place, hunting, fishing, or fighting with the tribes of the main- 
 land. 
 
 After gaining the friendship of the Indians, the Roman 
 Catholic Missionaries taught them their religion and easily con- 
 verted them to Christianity. 
 
 In Micmac tradition the most important character is Gloos- 
 cap. His deeds and character, and the veneration in which he 
 was held, remind us most forcibly of the Hiawatha of the west- 
 ern Indians or the Montezuma of Mexico. He was a combina- 
 tion of the human and divine, and he provided human conven- 
 iences for his people with omnipotent power and on a heroic 
 scale. Minas Basin was his beaver pond, the dam being at 
 Cape Split. Spencer's Island was his kettle turned upside 
 down. All animals were obedient to his will. He could at 
 any time call to his side the moose, the caribou, the bear and 
 the lynx, and they promptly did his errands and carried on his 
 work. He controlled the elements. When his enemies assem- 
 bled in great numbers, intending to overthrow him, he extin- 
 guished their fires, and called to his aid the armies of the frost, 
 so that soon the hostile force was cold in death. He possessed 
 the proverbial Indian hospitality to strangers, who were at all 
 times welcome to his great wigwam on Partridge Island. 
 Glooscap made the first man from a tree. He gathered ame- 
 thysts from Blomidon and gave them to his favorites. While 
 
 (52) 
 
^VANGBIvIN^. 53 
 
 the dam existed, the waters filled the Annapolis valley. Becom- 
 ing angered at the beavers who inhabited this pond, he struck 
 the dam with his tomahawk, and the blow split the solid rock, 
 as seen at Cape Split to this day. He then siezed with his 
 hands a large portion of the dam and hurled it at the beavers. 
 This mass so thrown is known today as the Five Islands. A 
 large part of the pond was drained by this break in the dam, 
 and the beavers fled, to return no more. 
 
 Strange to relate, geologists support this tradition to a cer- 
 tain extent, and tell us that the waters did cover the valley, 
 until, by some great upheaval, they were forced within their 
 present boundaries. Glooscap tamed the whale, and used him 
 as a beast of burden. On the back of a whale he rode rapidly 
 to places far distant across the waters. He dwelt for many, 
 many years on Partridge Island, but when the white man came 
 he decided to depart. He called together all the birds and 
 animals, except the beavers, and gave them a grand farewell 
 feast. At the close of the feast he bade them farewell, and 
 departed in his canoe, in a manner similar to the departure of 
 Hiawatha and Montezuma. After his departure, the birds and 
 animals no longer understood one another, and there was great 
 confusion and quarreling. The loons still call unceasingly for 
 their friend, and the owls cry "Koo, Koo, Skoos!" "Koo, Koo, 
 Skoos!"— meaning Oh, I am sorry! Oh, I am sorry! But 
 Glooscap will surely come again; his kettle will be righted; his 
 dogs, which he turned to stone when he departed, will be 
 called to life; his unbounded hospitality will again be dispensed; 
 beast, bird and man will again understand each other, and uni- 
 versal peace and happiness will prevail. 
 
 The later Indians were not hostile to the English-speaking 
 settlers, and caused them but little trouble. They lived in 
 their wigwams, built of birch bark in the summer, or of hem- 
 lock bark and earth in the winter. They sold to the whites 
 
54 
 
 evange:i,ink. 
 
 baskets, birch-bark canoes, toboggans, snow-shoes, moccasin; ; 
 and hides. Many of the articles made by the squaws werij 
 ornamented with beads and porcupine quills of various colors 
 They picked and sold berries and other products of the wood?; 
 and fields. When game was plenty they brought flesh, fisl:| 
 and furs to the settlements. 
 
 Partridge Island, tbe home of Glooscap. Cape Split in the distance at left. 
 
 Soon after the coming of the white man, small-pox made 
 sad inroads among the Indians. I,arge numbers died of con- 
 sumption, and any contagious disease seemed to take fierce 
 hold upon them. 
 
 The stone relics of the early Indians of Nova Scotia are 
 comparatively scarce. Here and there are found the rude 
 arrow-head or spear-head, and occasionally a stone implement, 
 such as a celt, axe or pestle. Some authorities on archeology 
 believe that most of these larger stone articles were made by 
 other and distant tribes, and were brought to Nova Scotia by 
 
EVANGELINE. 55 
 
 rade, or were captured during one of their occasional raids to 
 he mainland. 
 
 When the "Eighteen Hundreds" were young and few, 
 n Indian was accidentally killed near Annapolis. A white 
 lunter met him, and jokingly grasping his gun near the 
 nuzzle, thrust it toward the Indian saying, "Will tka^ much 
 dWyouf The startled Indian sprang to one side to get out 
 f the range of the weapon, and in so doing stumbled and fell, 
 triking his head on a sharp stone. He died at once from the 
 effects of the wound so inflicted. The joker fled. The Indians 
 hroughout the valley were greatly excited and threatened 
 •evenge. Shortly after this occurrence, a lady with a baby in 
 ler arms, was sitting in her house when the rest of her family 
 Arere absent. Suddenly and quietly the outer door opened, 
 md an Indian stepped into the room. Seeing that she was 
 ilone, he asked fiercely "Who kill 'urn dat Ingun down 
 Napolisway?" "lam sure I don't know," said she. The 
 [ndian then drew a long knife from his belt and, advancing 
 threateningly, shouted "Me kill um you, anyway." At that 
 moment there was an interruption. A man who lived with 
 the family, making and mending shoes for them and their 
 neighbors, was working at his trade in an adjoining room. 
 Hearing the last exclamation of the Indian, he seized a gun 
 which stood in the corner, and rushed out saying "I guess 
 I'll kiWyour' The Indian darted out of the door. The man 
 followed and fired, and the Indian fell. After a moment he 
 rose slowly to his feet and, apparently unhurt, ran like a 
 scared deer. They never saw him again. 
 
 Notes. 
 1 . At the western extremity of Partridge Island the visitor 
 to the summit may see an excellent outline of an Indian's face 
 on the cliff wall. The likeness is rendered more startling by 
 
56 EVANGKIvINE. 
 
 the reddish color of the rock of which it is composed. This i 
 said to be the likeness of Glooscap; and that stolid face look 
 forever directly down the Bay of Fundy, through the ga 
 where the tides are ever rushing and swirling. 
 
 2. Partridge Island is about 400 feet high. [See Illustra 
 tion.] 
 
 "Then blest Acadia! ever may thy name, 
 Like Britian's, be graven on rolls of fame; 
 May all thy sons, like hers, be brave and free, 
 Possessors of her laws and liberty; 
 Heirs of her splendor, science, pow'r and skill, 
 And through succeeding years her children still. 
 Then as the sun with gentle, dawning ray, 
 From night's dull bosom wakes and leads the day, 
 His course majestic keeps, till in the height 
 He glows one blaze of pure exhaustless light, 
 So may thy years increase, thy glories rise, 
 To be the wonder of the western skies; 
 And bliss and peace encircle all thy shore. 
 Till sun and moon and stars shall be no more." 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
KVANGEJlwINK. 57 
 
 NOTES AND REFERENCES. 
 
 I. 
 
 1. Primeval: — Never disturbed by the woodman's axe. 
 
 The sound of the wind blowing through these trees is very similar 
 to the distant sound of the surf. A light breeze causes a sound 
 resembling a whispering. 
 
 2. These festoons of moss may be seen today in many of the ever- 
 
 green forests of N. S. 
 
 3. Druids:— Vx'x^st^, or ministers of rehgion, among the ancient 
 
 Celtic nations in Gaul, Britain and Germany. They frequent- 
 ed or instructed in the forest, or sacrificed under an oak. 
 Eld: — Old times, former days, antiquity. 
 
 4. Harpers: See Walter Scott's Introduction to the "Lay of the 
 
 Last Minstrel." 
 Hoar: White, or grayish white; white with age. 
 6. Wail: Loud lamentation or expression of sorrow. 
 
 Roe: The female deer. Note the condition of the startled roe 
 when followed by huntsman and hounds, as likened to the 
 condition of the Acadians when they learned of their impend- 
 ing fate. 
 9. Thatch: Straw, hay, or rushes, used to cover the roofs of build- 
 ings for protection from the elements. 
 15. Grand Pre: Grand Prairie or Great Meadow. 
 18. Tradition: That which is transmitted orally from father to son 
 or from ancestors to posterity. 
 Acadie: See Chapter III. 
 See map of N. S. 
 See Chapter V. 
 See Note 1, Chapter IV. 
 See Chapter VIII. 
 See Chapter V. 
 
 See Chapter V. Pitching a tent indicates an intention to remain. 
 Fogs and mists hang over the ocean all about the coasts of N. 
 S. , as well as in the nearby region of Newfoundland and its 
 Banks. 
 33. See Chapter V. 
 
58 e:vangki.in:K. 
 
 34. Normandy: Ancient province of France, north-western pa 
 People were descendents of the ancient Normans or Northm 
 who settled there. 
 
 There were four Henries of France. The reign of the Henri 
 began in 1031. 
 
 38. Vanes: Indicators showing direction of the wind. 
 
 39. Kirtle: An upper garment; a gown; a short jacket; a mantle. 
 
 40. Distaff: Staflf for holding the bunch of flax or wool from whi( 
 
 the thread is drawn in spinning by hand. 
 
 41. Looms: Machines for weaving the thread into cloth. 
 
 Shuttles: Instruments for passing the thread of the woof fro 
 
 one side of the cloth to the other, between the threads of tt 
 warp. 
 
 49. Angelus'. Angelus Domini is the name given to the bell whic 
 
 called the people to prayer, in commemoration of the visit < 
 the Angel of God to the Virgin Mary. See the picture calle 
 "The Angelus." 
 
 50. Incense: A mixture of fragrant gums, spices, etc. , used for prr 
 
 ducing a perfume when burned. Used in religious rites or s 
 
 an offering to some deity. 
 62. Stalworth: Same as stalwart. 
 66. See Chapter V. 
 68. Kine: Cows. 
 
 70. Flagons: Vessels with narrow mouths, used for liquors. 
 72. Hyssop: A plant whose leaves have an aromatic smell and 
 
 warm pungent taste. 
 74. Chaplet: A string of beads used in counting prayers. 
 
 Missal: The Roman Catholic mass -book. 
 76. See Note 1, Chapter IV. 
 
 84. Woodbine: The Honeysuckle; the Eglantine; Black Ivy. 
 87. Penthouse: A shed standing aslope from the main wall or build 
 
 ing; a lean-to. 
 91. Bucket: Probably used with the well sweep. 
 
 93. Wains: Wagons. 
 
 94. Folds: Enclosures; pens. 
 Seraglio: The palace of the Sultan, inhabited by himself, hij 
 
 officers and dependents, and his wives. 
 96. See Matthew XXVI: 74, 75. 
 
:ejvangki.ink. 59 
 
 Weathercocks: So called because they were originally made in the 
 form of a cock. Any device to show direction of the wind; a 
 vane. The little wooden windmills are meant here. 
 Mutation: Change or alteration. 
 
 Knocker: An instrument fastened to a door, to be used in seek- 
 ing admittance. 
 Patron Saint: The saint regarded as the protector of the com- 
 munity. 
 See Tubal Cain, Vulcan, "The Village Blacksmith." 
 Plain-so7ig: An ecclesiastical chant. 
 See mention of smithy in Chapter V. 
 
 Leathern lap: The leather apron worn by blacksmiths to guard 
 their clothing from sparks. 
 128. The tire is heated and placed on the wheel while still hot. On 
 
 cooling it contracts and thus fits closdy to the rim. 
 131. Bellows: An instrument for forcing air through a tube to blow 
 
 the fire in the forge. 
 135. In a hilly country, coasting is always a popular winter sport. 
 137. It is said that if the mother swallow finds that one of her young 
 is blind, she seeks a little stone on the shore of the sea. This 
 stone she applies to the blind eyes, and restores the sight. 
 145. The old proverb says: "If the sun shines on Saint Eulalie's day 
 there will be plenty of apples, and cider enough." Saint 
 EulaUe's day is Feb. 12th. 
 
 149. The Zodiac is a belt 16° wide, 8° on each side of the ecliptic. It 
 
 is divided into twelve so-called signs, each 30° in length. Each 
 sign is indicated by picture of an object. The three signs 
 of autumn are Libra, Scorpio, and Sagittarius; or the bal- 
 ances, the scorpion, and the archer. 
 
 150. Birds of passage: Those which migrate to the south in winter 
 
 and to the north in summer. See Bryant's "To a Water 
 
 Fowl." 
 
 152, Refers to the winds which prevail at the time of the autumnal 
 
 equinox, when the sun enters the sign of Libra, about Sept. 22d. 
 
 153. See Genesis XXXII; 24. 
 
 156. Indian hunters: Micmacs, Chapter IX. 
 159. Same as our Indian Summer. 
 
 All Saints Day is Nov. 1st. 
 
 See last paragraph of Chapter VIII. 
 
60 KVANGKI.INK. 
 
 168. The colors of the autnmn leaves. 
 
 170. Xerxes found a beautiful plane tree, and became so enamorec 
 
 with it that he adorned it with fine robes, necklace and jewels 
 
 and placed a soldier to guard it. 
 176. Heifer: A young cow. 
 184. Regent: One who governs a kingdom during the minority, abt 
 
 sence or disability of a sovereign. 
 
 1 86. Late because they could work on the salt marshes only at low tide 
 
 187. Briny hay: The so-called "salt" hay, a grass which grows or 
 
 land overflowed by the sea at high tide. It is cut and pilec 
 upon platforms in the marshes. After it is thoroughly dried 
 or "cured" it is hauled to the farm yards. The wagons oj 
 carts used for this work were similar to those described in 
 Chapter VII. 
 192. Udders: The milk glands of female mammals. 
 193-4. Who that has heard this sound can ever forget it? 
 
 205. Pewter: An alloy consisting chiefly of tin and lead. 
 
 206. Armed men are often distinguished at great distances by the- 
 
 gleam of their arms as the sun strikes them. The Federals,^ 
 shut up in Chattanooga, first knew of the coming of troops sent 
 to reHeve them, by the gleam of their rifle barrels seen far oveji 
 the hills. II 
 
 . 207. Carol: A song of joy or exultation. 
 
 213. The spinning wheels give out a peculiar numming sound whend 
 in use. | 
 
 Bagpipe: A musical wind instrument of Scotland and Ireland.!, 
 The air is pressed into the pipes from a leather bag. The bassi 
 pipe is called the drone and the treble pipe is called the chanter. 
 Thfe "drone" here mentioned is the monotonous sound which, 
 comes from the drone. 
 
 217. The sound gives the sense. Note the sound of the clock in the' 
 pronunciation of the two words "clock clicked " 
 
 225. See Note 2, Chapter VIII. 
 
 228. Harvest moon: The moon near the full at the time of harvest, 
 
 or about the autumnal equinox. 
 231. ^^^^^^d^^ A popular, sentimental or narrative song in simple 
 
 234. The luck in horseshoes is mentioned in Chapters VII and VIII 
 249. See historical account. 
 
KVANGELINK. 
 
 61 
 
 250. See Chapters IV and VIII. 
 
 261. Glebe: Turf; soil; sod. 
 
 263. Inkhorn: This may mean simply an inkstand, or a case holding 
 ink and pens. 
 
 267. Notary: An officer authorized to attest or certify deeds, con- 
 tracts and other writings, usually under his official seal, to 
 make them authentic. Usually called Notary Public. See 
 
 line 292. 
 .73_4. See line 1261. 
 
 i75-6. Either Queen Anne's or King George's war is meant. 
 280. The story of the were-wolf is, according to an old tradition of 
 
 France and various other European countries, that certain 
 
 human beings have the power to turn themselves into wolves 
 
 that they may devour children. 
 282. Some white, wild animal probably gave rise to this story. 
 
 284. This legend is probably a form of the old story that on Christ- 
 
 mas eve, the cattle in the stables fall on their knees in adoration 
 of the infant Savior, as the older legend says was done in the 
 stable at Bethlehem. If cattle are disturbed when lying down 
 they rise to their hind feet, then to their knees, and then 
 to their front feet. On entering the stable with a dim light 
 the cattle might be seen rising from their knees in this manner, 
 and thus the story originated. 
 
 285. In England a cure for ague was a spider shut up in a goose quill 
 
 and hung about the neck. In the western states of the Union 
 where ague was prevalent, it was said that swallowing a spider 
 would cure the worst case of ague. 
 
 286. The four-leaved clover is an emblem of good luck. 
 306. An old Florentine story. See line 522. 
 
 322*. Bronze: An alloy of copper with from ten to thirty per cent, of 
 tin. Sometimes zinc is added. 
 
 330. Brazen: Made of brass. 
 
 344. Draughts: Checkers, so named from the drawing of the men 
 from one square to another. 
 J51-2. See line 1041. 
 
 354. Curfew: From couvre-feu, or cover fire. In the Middle Ages a 
 bell was rung at a certain hour, from seven to nine o'clock in 
 the evening according to the custom of the place, warning all 
 honest people to cover their fires and go to bed. The Normans 
 introduced this custom in England. 
 
62 KVANGKLINS. 
 
 371. Refers to the influence of the moon on the tides. 
 
 381. See line 1095. Genesis XXI, 14. 
 
 413. The first named song was written in the time of Henry IV. Th( 
 second was a song sung to a tune played on the chimes o: 
 Dunkirk. 
 
 421. A drum beat sounded over the meadows. 
 
 442. Solstice of summer: The time when the sun's rays are vertical 
 at the Tropic of Cancer, June 21st. 
 
 454. Spar: A mast, yard, boom or gaff. 
 
 456. See Chapter IV. 
 
 461. Chancel: That part of the church where the altar is placed. 
 
 466. Tocsin: An alarm bell. 
 
 470. Vigils: Devotional watching. 
 
 476. See Luke XXIII, 34. 
 
 484. Ave Maria: An invocation to the Virgin Mary. 
 
 486. See 2d Kings, II, 11. 
 
 492. Emblazoned: Adorned with armorial ensigns. 
 
 498. Ambrosial: Delightful to the taste or smell. Ambrosia was 
 the food of the gods of the ancients. 
 
 507. See Exodus XXXIV, 33-35. 
 
 533. See Note 2, Chapter IV. 
 
 575. Refluent: Returning; ebbing. 
 
 577. Kelp: A sea- weed. The ashes of kelp is used in the manufac- 
 ture of glass. The slippery sea-weed mentioned has smaller 
 leaves than the kelp. It sometimes covers the rocks and gives 
 a very precarious footing. 
 
 579. Leaguer: The camp of a besieging army. 
 
 582. Nethermost: Lowest. 
 
 597. See Acts XXVIII. Melita is Malta. 
 
 615. Titans: Giants in Greek mythology who tried to deprive Saturn 
 of his power in heaven, but were defeated and driven down 
 into Tartarus by Jupiter, who hurled thunderbolts at them. 
 
 621. deeds: Burning coals. 
 
 The instructions of the governor to Winslow were: "You must 
 proceed by the most vigorous measures possible, not only in 
 compelling them to embark, but in depriving those who shall 
 escape of all means of shelter or support by burning their 
 houses, and by destroying everything that may afford them the 
 means of subsistance in the country." 
 See Chapter IV. 
 
EVANGELINK. ^^ 
 
 357. Bell: The bell tolled to mark the passage of the soul to the other 
 
 world. 
 Book: The service book. 
 560. Dirges: Funeral hymns. 
 367. They sailed with the falling tide because they could then pass 
 
 Cape Split with the current. Sailing vessels never attempt 
 
 that passage against the tide. 
 570. See Chapter IV. 
 572. The almost perpetual fogs of this region are probably due to the 
 
 meeting of the warm Gulf Stream and the cold Arctic Current. 
 674. From the Great Lakes to the Gulf vStates. 
 575. From the Atlantic to the Mississippi. 
 
 676. The Mississippi often washes away its banks so that a new 
 
 channel is formed during a single flood. See Kaskaskia. 
 
 677. Bones of great extinct animals are found at various places in the 
 
 Mississippi Valley. 
 
 688. The trail leading to California through what was called the Great 
 American Desert, was marked by the bones of thousands of 
 cattle, mostly oxen, that died of thirst. At camping places the 
 weak or worn out animals were often shot to end their misery. 
 
 705. Coureiirs-des-hois: Men who accompanied the early fur traders of 
 the north-west. They paddled the canoes, carried the goods and 
 canoes at the portages, and a'^sisted to gather in the furs from 
 the Indians. They were French or half-breeds. By living long 
 among the Indians they acquired many of the Indian customs. 
 Parkman's "Conspiracy of Pontiac," and "Discovery of the 
 Great West" contain many references to these men. 
 
 707. Voyageur: A river boatman. 
 
 713. Saint Catherine of Alexandria and Saint Catherine of Siena were 
 both celebrated for their vows of virginity. Hence the sayiug, 
 meaning one devoted to a single life. 
 
 )l-3. Refers to the ceaseless round of the moisture which rises from 
 the sea by evaporation, is carried over the land in the form of 
 clouds, falls in the form of rain, sinks into the earth, comes to 
 the surface in the springs, thence to the brook and the river, 
 and finally to the sea, where the journey begins again. 
 
 732. Shards: Fragments of earthen vessels. 
 
 733. Muse: A genius of art, literature or music. 
 Essay: Endeavor; try. 
 
64 EVANGELINE. 
 
 738. Sylvan: Forestlike; pertaining to the woods. See meaning of 
 Pennsylvania; Selvas. See line 1253. 
 
 741. The Indians named this river the Ohio or Beautiful River. On 
 
 the earliest maps the latter name was applied to it. 
 
 742. See map of U. S. 
 
 743. Golden: Below the mouth of the Missouri the waters of the 
 
 Mississippi have a yellow tinge caused by the yellow clay 
 brought by the Missouri. 
 750. Between the first of January and the 13th of May, 1765, about 
 six hundred fifty Acadians had arrived at New Orleans. Lou- 
 isiana had been ceded by France to Spain in 1762, but did not 
 really pass under the control of the Spanish until 1769. The 
 existence of a French population attracted the wandering 
 Acadians, and they were sent by the authorities to form se^ 
 tlements in Attakapas and Opelousas. They afterward formed 
 settlements on both sides of the Mississippi from the German 
 Coast up to Baton Rouge, and even as high as Point Coupee. 
 Hence the name of Acadian Coast, which a portion of the 
 banks of the river still h^2.x:^.— Gay arrets History of Louisiana. 
 
 755. Chute: A rapid descent of the river. 
 
 756. Probably cotton-wood trees are meant. 
 
 757. Lagoons: Shallow ponds or lakes. 
 
 758. Wimpling: Rippling or undulating. 
 Pelicans: Web-footed water-fowl, larger than swans, having an 
 
 enormous bill, to the lower edge of which is attached a pouch 
 capable of holding many quarts. 
 Perhaps the sweet orange is meant, as this was called the China 
 orange. 
 764. Golden Coast: A portion of the snore of the river. 
 
 Citron: The tree which produces the -jitron of commerce. 
 766. A bayou on the west side of the river. 
 769. Tenebrous: Dark; gloomy; dusky. 
 
 782. Mimosa: The sensitive plant. 
 
 783. Possibly the reference is to the "Pale horse and his rider " Se 
 
 Rev. VI, 8. 
 
 784. Stroke of doom: The final calamity. The culmination of fate 
 
 or destin3\ 
 786-7. See lines 700, 1145, 1244. 
 
 803. Desert: Here means a wilderness; a solitude. 
 
 807. Lakes formed by a broadening of the river. ' 
 
 75':) 
 
 761 
 
KVANGBLINS. 65 
 
 816. Washita or Ouachita was the Indian name for the male deer. 
 The deer fed on the tender twigs of this willow. 
 
 819. Cope: Anything extending over the head. 
 
 820. Trumpet flower: The trumpet honeysuckle. 
 821-2. See Genesis XXVIII, 10-12. 
 
 837. Palmetto: A species of palm tree growing in southern states. 
 
 See arms of State of S. C. 
 840. Refers to 821-4. 
 
 842. Tholes: Pins in the gunwale of a boat to keep the oars in the 
 
 row-lock. 
 
 843. Trance: A state in which the soul seems to have passed out of 
 
 the body into another state of being, or to be wrapped into 
 
 visions. 
 853. Buoy: A float; used to mark channels, rocks or shoals. When 
 
 a ship leaves her anchorage intending to return soon, the cable 
 
 of the anchor is fastened to a buoy, thus saving the labor of 
 
 hoisting and casting the heavy anchor. 
 856. Teche (tesh) : A navigable bayou of La. 
 865. Magician: A conjurer. 
 
 Wand: A rod used by conjurers; supposed to possess magical 
 
 charms. 
 868-9. See line 11. 
 871. See line 865. 
 
 878. Bacchantes: Devotees of Bacchus, the god of wine. 
 885. Amber: Resembling amber in color; yellowish. 
 
 889. Mistletoe: A parasitic evergreen plant bearing a glutinous fruit. 
 
 A variety grows in the southern states. When found upon the 
 oak, where it is rare, it was an object of superstitious regard 
 among the Druids. 
 
 890. Yule-tide: Christmas time. 
 
 914. Sombrero: A kind of broad brimmed hat. 
 
 924. vSee hne635. 
 
 953. Ozark Mts.: Low mountains of southern Missouri. 
 
 956. Fates: The three goddesses who were supposed to determine 
 
 the course of human life. 
 961 . Olympus: A mountain of Ancient Greece, the abode of the gods. 
 970. Ci-devant: Former; previous. 
 978. In tropical regions there is little or no twilight. Contrast this 
 
 line with 172 and 574-5. 
 
66 BVANGEIvINK. 
 
 984. Natchitoches: A parish of N. W. La. 
 988-9. Refer to the cold climate and stony soil of Nova Scotia. -^ 
 
 991-2. A very strong hyperbole. \ 
 
 1006. See page 285. 
 
 1009. Creoles: People born in America or the West Indies, of Euro- 
 pean ancestors. It is also applied to anyone born within the 
 tropics. 
 1019. See line 415. 
 
 1033. Carthusian: A monk of the Carthusian order, which is the strict- 
 est and most severe in its rules of all religious societies. 
 One of its rules enforces almost perpetual silence. The monks 
 talk together but once a week. 
 1041. See line 352. 
 
 1044. ''Upharsin:'' See Daniel V. "The handwriting on the wall." 
 1054. See line 627. 
 
 1057. Oracular: From oracle, an answer from a god among the 
 heathen to an inquiry made. 
 1060-1. Probable reference to Luke VII, 37-38. 
 
 1063. See Luke XV, 11-32. 
 
 1064. See Matthew XXV, 1-13. 
 
 1075. Garrulous: Indulging in long prosy talk; loquacious. 
 1082. Oregon: The Columbia river. 
 
 Walleway: Probably the Walla Walla, which flows into the 
 
 Columbia at Wallulu in Washington. 
 Owyhee: River 350 miles long. Rises in N. Nevada and flows 
 into the Snake River. 
 1083-4. See map of northwestern states. 
 
 1091. Aniorpha: False indigo. One variety is called the lead plant. 
 The flowers are violet or purple in terminal spikes. 
 
 1094. Prairie fires. 
 
 1095. See line 381. The Arabs are supposed to be the descendants of 
 
 Ishmael. Hence any wandering people. 
 
 1097. The turkey-buzzard. 
 
 1098. Implacable: Relentless; irreconcilable. 
 1102. Taciturn: Silent; reserved. 
 
 Anchorite: An anchorite is a hermit or recluse; used here as an 
 adjective. 
 1106. The geography here is rather vague. The region of the Columbia 
 is so far from the Ozarks that it can hardly be called the same 
 "land." 
 
KVANGELINK. 67 
 
 1114. Fata Morga^ia: The Italian name applied to a phenomenon 
 seen in the straits of Messina, and consisting of an appearance 
 in the air over the sea of the objects upon the neighboring 
 coasts. In the southwest of the United States, the mirage is 
 often seen; lakes and streams and trees are seen by the travel- 
 ler, but they exist only in his vision of the strata of air of 
 dififerent densities. 
 
 1119. Shawnee: A member of the tribe of that name. The Shawnees 
 
 were of the Algonquin family. Some writers consider them as 
 originally identical with the Kickapoos. They are first men- 
 tioned in history as being on the banks of the Fox river in 
 Wisconsin, in 1648. They engaged in war with the Iroquois and 
 most of them were driven southward to the Cumberland river, 
 whence they dispersed, some going to Florida, others to North 
 Carolina, and several bands to Pennsylvania. About 1795 a 
 portion of this tribe settled in Missouri under the protection of 
 the Spanish authorities. Shawnees were engaged in the con- 
 spiracy of Pontiac. They fought against Harmer, St. Clair and 
 Wayne. They were at Tippecanoe and the battle of the 
 Thames. 
 
 1120. Camanches: Spelled also Covnanches. A warlike tribe of no- 
 
 madic savages who roamed over a part of New Mexico and in 
 the valley of the Rio Grande. Their principal occupations 
 were robbery and war. They fought on horseback. They 
 were probably of the same stock as the Shoshones or Snake 
 Indians. 
 Venison: Flesh of the deer. 
 
 The tales remind us of the stories in "Hiawatha." 
 The Jesuit missionaries were called the "Black Robes," from 
 their long cloaks or habits. 
 1182. Susurrus: Whisper. 
 
 1211. Cloisters: A monastic establishment; a covered arcade forming 
 part of a monastic establishment. 
 Mendicant: Begging; poor. 
 il7-21. Compass flower: Our common resin weed. The edges of the 
 
 broad lower leaves always stand to the north and south. 
 1226. Asphodel: A perennial plant of the genus Asphodelus, cultivat- 
 ed for the beauty of its flowers. Called also "king's spear." 
 Nepenthe: A drug used by the ancients to relieve pain; sup- 
 posed to have been opium or hashish. 
 
68 EvangkIvIn:^. 
 
 1129. Wold: A plain; a country without woods. 
 
 1233. See map of Michigan. 
 
 1234. The Great Lakes. 
 
 1241. Moravian: The Moravian church is the church of the United 
 
 Brethren. In the 15th and 16th centuries Moravia was one of 
 its principal seats. It originated in Moravia and Bohemia, 
 about 1457. They were established in this country and early 
 sent their missionaries to and settled in the Great West. 
 Tents of Grace: Gnadenhutten. 
 
 1 242 . Armies of the Re vol ution . 
 
 1244. Notice the repeated use of the vf or d phantom. 
 
 1253. Origin of the word Pennsylvania. Sylvan, or forest land of 
 Penn. 
 
 1256. The principal streets of Philadelphia, running east and west are 
 named for the trees of the forest; as, Oak, Elm, Chestnut, 'etc. 
 
 \2S1. Dryads: Nymphs of the woods. Female deities who presided 
 over the woods. 
 
 1261. See lines 273-4. 
 
 1264. The Quakers make much use of the ancient or solemn form in 
 their speech. 
 
 1282. Abnegation: Denial; renunciation. 
 
 1292. In the early days watchmen patrolled the city at night and called 
 the hours. At midnight his call would be "Twelve o'clock 
 and all's well." When, during the Revolution, a courier rode 
 mto Philadelphia with a certain important message, the watch- 
 men on their rounds shouted ''Twelve o'clock, and Cornwallis 
 is taken." 
 
 1296. From the settlement of Germantown, then some distance out- 
 side the city. 
 
 1298. Philadelphia was visited by the terrible pestilence of yellow fever 
 
 in 1 (yO, 
 
 1308. The old Friend's almshouse which stood on Walnut street has 
 been pointed out as the scene of Evangeline's ministering and 
 of her meeting with Gabriel. 
 1314-16. See line 106. 
 1318. The New Jerusalem as described in Revelations. 
 1328. The old Swedes church at Wicaco was begun in 1698. Wilson 
 the ornithologist is buried in its churchyard. 
 1355-6. See Exodus XII, 3-14. 
 1390-1. See Introductory and Chapter VI. 
 1392-7. See Chapter IV. 
 
 The poem of Evangeline was published in 1847. 
 
E)VANGEIyIN^. 
 
 PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 
 
 OF PROPER NAMES AND FOREIGN WORDS IN 
 EVANGELINE. 
 
 The diacritical marks given below are those found in the latest edition of Web- 
 ster's International Dictionary. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF MARKS. 
 
 A Dash (") above the vowel denotes the long sound. 
 A Curve (^) above the vowel denotes the short sound. 
 
 A Circumflex Accent {^) above the vowels a or u denotes the sound of a in cSre, 
 or of u in tQrn ; above the vowel o it denotes the sound of o in 8rb. 
 A Dot (■) above tlie vowel a denotes the sound of a in past. 
 A Double Dot (") above the vowel a denotes the sound of a in star. 
 A Double Dot (..) below the vowel u denotes the sound of u in true. 
 A Wave C) above the vowel e denotes the sound of e in her. 
 
 8 sounds like z. 
 q sounds like s. 
 g sounds like j. 
 a, e, 6 are similar in sound to a, e, o, but are not pronounced so lonff. 
 
 Note that the pronunciation of French words can be given only approximately 
 by means of signs and English equivalents. A living teacher is requisite to enable 
 one to read and speak the language with elegance. 
 
 Abb^ Guillaume Thomas Francis Raynal 
 
 (Sb-bli' ge-yom', etc.). 
 Acadie (a-ka-de')- 
 Acca'dia. 
 Ada'yes. 
 Aelian (e'lT-5n). 
 
 Aix-la-Chapelle (aks-la-sha-pSl'). 
 Amorphas (a-mor'faz). 
 Angelus Domini (an'je-liis d5m'l-nl). 
 Arca'dia. 
 
 asphodel (Ss'fo-dSl). 
 Atchafalaya (5ch-a-fa-lT'a). 
 Attakapas (Xt-tuk'a-paw). 
 Bacchantes (bSk-kSn'tez). 
 Bacchus (bSk'us). 
 
 Beau Sejour (bo sa-zhoor'). 
 
 BSnedig'Tte. 
 
 Ben'edTct Bellefontaine'. 
 
 Blom'Td5n. 
 
 Briareus (brl'a-rus). 
 
 Bruges (bri}zh). 
 
 Cadie'. 
 
 Caman'che§. 
 
 Canard'. 
 
 Cape Bret'on. 
 
 Cel'tTc. 
 
 Charente Inferieure (shSr-anhf Soh-fa- 
 
 re-er'). 
 Charnisay (shar-nT-za'). 
 Chartreux (shar-tre'). 
 
EVANGELINE. 
 
 ci-devant (se-de-vanhO' 
 
 CotSlle'. 
 
 coureurs-des-bois (koo'rer-da-bwa), 
 
 Contes Populaires (konht p5p-u-lar0. 
 
 couvre-feu (koo'vr-fe). 
 
 Dante's Divina Commedia (dT-ve'na 
 
 com-ma'dT-a). 
 Ducaiiroi (du-ko-rwa'). 
 Evaii'gelTiie. 
 Fa'ta Morga'nS.. 
 Father Felician (fe-lTsh'T-an). 
 Fontaine-qui-bout (f6iili'taii-ke-boo). 
 Gabriel Lajeunesse (la-zhe-ues'). 
 Gaspereau (gas-pe-ro'). 
 Gayarre (gi-a-ra'), 
 Gnadenhutten (gna-dSn-luit'Cn). 
 Grand-Pr6 (granh-pra'). 
 Herod'otus. 
 
 Horae Hellenicae (lio're h51-len'T-se). 
 Isaac de Razilli (de ra-ze-ye'). 
 Kavanagh (kSv'a-na). 
 La Cle du Caveau (la kla du ka-vo'), 
 La Gazza Ladra (la gat'za la'dra). 
 La Have. 
 Lii Salle, 
 Le Carillon de Dunkerque (le kSr-e- 
 
 yonh' de dun-kerk'). 
 L6tiche (la-tesh'). 
 Lilinau (le'lT-no). 
 Louisburg (loo'T-bQrg). 
 Loup-garou (loo-gar-oo'). 
 maJtre de chapelle (ma'tr de sha-p51'). 
 Melita (mg-le'ta). 
 Minas Basin (me'aas basia). 
 Mowis (mo'wes). 
 
 Natchitoches (nSck'e-tSsb). 
 
 nepSn'the. 
 
 Opelousas (op-S-loo'sas). 
 
 Outre-Mer (ootr-mSr'). 
 
 Owy'hee. 
 
 Passaiiiaqu5d'dy. 
 
 Pierre Capelle <pe-Sr' ka-pSlO. 
 
 PIsnfquTd. 
 
 Plaquemine, Bayou of (pl5k-men', bi'oo). 
 
 Pluquet (plu-ka')- 
 
 Pointe Coupee (pvvanht koo-pa')» 
 
 PQitou (pwa-too'). 
 
 Ren6 Leblanc (re-na' le-blaabkO* 
 
 Rochelle (ro-shgll'). 
 
 Rossini (ros-se'iie). 
 
 St. Maur (sanh mor'). 
 
 Saintonge (sa»ih-t8nhzh'). 
 
 Sam's6n Agonls'tes. 
 
 seraglio (be-r51'yo). 
 
 Siena (se-a'na). 
 
 Silphium laciniatum (sTl'fT-um la-sTn-T* 
 
 a'ttiin). 
 Straits of Messina (mes-se'ni). 
 Teche (tash). 
 Tous lea Bourgeois de Chartres (too 13 
 
 boor-zhvva' de shartr). 
 Upharsin (u-far'sTn). 
 Utrecht (ii'trekt). 
 Vendue (vanh-da'). 
 voyageur (vwa-ya-zher'). 
 Wachita (wosh'e-taw). 
 Walleway (w511'e-v\'a). 
 were-wolf. 
 Wicaco (vve-ka'ko). 
 Xerxes (zerks'ez). 
 
EVANGEUNE. 69 
 
 EVANGELINE. 
 
 PRELUDE. 
 
 This is the forest primeval. The murmuring 
 pines and the hemlocks, 
 
 Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indis- 
 tinct in the twilight, 
 
 Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and pro- 
 phetic, 
 
 Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on 
 their bosoms. 
 
 Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neigh- 
 boring ocean ^ 
 
 Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail 
 of the forest. 
 
 This is the forest primeval; but where are the 
 hearts that beneath it 
 
 Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland 
 the voice of the huntsman? 
 
 Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Aca- 
 dian farmers — 
 
 Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the 
 woodlands, ^^ 
 
 Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image 
 of heaven? 
 
70 EVANG^tlN^. 
 
 Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers for- 
 ever departed! 
 
 Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty 
 blasts of October 
 
 Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them 
 far o'er the ocean. 
 
 Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village 
 of Grand-Pre. ^^ 
 
 Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, 
 and is patient. 
 
 Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of wo- 
 man's devotion, 
 
 List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines 
 of the forest; 
 
 List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 I. 
 
 In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of 
 
 Minas, 
 
 Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand- 
 Pre 
 Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched 
 
 to the eastward. 
 Giving the village its name and pasture to flocks 
 
 without number. 
 Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with 
 
 labor incessant. 
 Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons 
 
 the flood-gates 25 
 
 Opened and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er 
 
 the meadows. 
 
, KVANGE^LINK. . 71 
 
 Vest and soutH there were fields of flax, and orchards 
 
 and cornfields 
 Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away 
 
 to the northward 
 Jlomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the 
 
 mountains 
 Dea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty 
 
 Atlantic 
 ooked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their sta- 
 tion descended. 
 There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian 
 
 village. 
 Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak 
 
 and of hemlock. 
 Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign 
 
 of the Henries. 
 Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and 
 
 gables projecting 
 Over the basement below protected and shaded the 
 
 doorway. 
 There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when 
 
 brightly the sunset 
 Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on 
 
 the chimneys, 
 Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in 
 
 kirtles 
 Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning 
 
 the golden 
 Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles 
 
 within doors 
 Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and 
 
 the songs of the maidens. 
 
\ 
 
 72 HVANGKI.INE. 
 
 Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, anl 
 the children ' ^ 
 
 Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended 
 bless them. 
 
 
 Reverend walked he among them ; and up rose mi 
 
 trons and maidens, i 
 
 Hailing his slow approach with words of aiFectionatc 
 
 welcome. 
 Then came the laborers home from the field, and se 
 
 renely the sun sank 
 Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from 
 
 the belfry 
 Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs oi 
 
 the village 
 Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense 
 
 ascending, 5c 
 
 Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and 
 
 contentment. 
 
 Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian] 
 
 farmers, — 
 Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were: 
 
 they free from 
 Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice^ 
 
 of republics. 
 Neither^ locks had they to their doors, nor bars to? 
 
 their windows ; 55^ 
 
 But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts 
 
 of the owners; 
 There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in 
 
 abundance. 
 
 Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the 
 Basin of Minas, 
 
KVANGEUNE. 73 
 
 Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of 
 
 Grand-Pre, 
 )welt on his goodly acres ; and with him, directing 
 ! his household, 
 Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of 
 
 the village, 
 otal worth and stately in form was the man of seventy 
 
 winters; . 
 
 Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with 
 
 snow-flakes ; 
 White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as 
 
 brown as the oak-leaves. 
 Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen 
 
 summers; 
 Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the 
 
 thorn by the wayside. 
 Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown 
 
 shade of her tresses I 
 Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed 
 
 in the meadows. 
 When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at 
 
 noontide 
 Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair m sooth was 
 
 the maiden. 1.1.1.1. n 
 
 Fairer was she, when on Sunday morn, while the beli 
 
 from its turret 
 Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with 
 
 his hyssop 
 Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters bessmgs 
 
 upon them 1 4. r 
 
 Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet ot 
 beads and her missal. 
 
74 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Wearing her Norman cap and her kirtle of blue, and 
 
 the ear-rings ^' 
 
 Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as 
 
 an heirloom, 
 Handed down from mother to child, through long 
 
 generations. 
 But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — 
 Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after 
 
 confession. 
 Homeward serenely she walked with God's benedic- 
 tion upon her. ^ 
 When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of 
 
 exquisite music. 
 Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of^'| 
 
 the farmer 
 Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea; and 
 
 a shady 
 Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreath- 
 ing around it. 
 Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and 
 
 a footpath 
 Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the 
 
 meadow. 
 Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a 
 
 penthouse. 
 Such as the traveler sees in regions remote by the 
 
 roadside. 
 Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of 
 
 Mary. 
 Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well 
 
 with its moss-grown ^^ 
 
 Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for 
 
 the horses. 
 
KVANGELINE. 75 
 
 Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were 
 the barns and the farmyard; 
 
 rhere stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique 
 plows and harrows; 
 
 There were the folds for the sheep, and there in his 
 feathered seraglio, 
 
 krutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with 
 the selfsame ^^ 
 
 /oice that in ages of old had startled the penitent 
 Peter. 
 
 Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a vil- 
 lage. In each one 
 
 .^ar o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a 
 staircase, 
 
 Jnder the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous 
 cornloft. 
 
 rhere too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and inno- 
 cent inmates ^^^ 
 
 Vlurmuring ever of love; while above in the vari- 
 ant breezes 
 
 >Jumberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of 
 
 ^ mutation. 
 
 Thus, at peace with God and the world, the 
 
 farmer of Grand-Pre 
 Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed 
 
 his household. 
 Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened 
 
 his missal, ^^^ 
 
 Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest 
 
 devotion; 
 Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem 
 
 of her garment! 
 
76 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness be-| 
 
 friended, 
 And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of] 
 
 her footsteps. 
 Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or thej 
 
 knocker of iron; ^^° 
 
 Or, at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the vil- 
 lage, 
 Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he: 
 
 whispered 
 Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the'ij 
 
 music. 
 But among all who came young Gabriel only was;; 
 
 welcome; 
 Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the black- 
 smith, ^^^ 
 Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored 
 
 of all men ; 
 For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and 
 
 nations. 
 Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the 
 
 people. 
 Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from 
 
 earliest childhood 
 Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father 
 
 Felician, i^o 
 
 Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught 
 
 them their letters 
 Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the 
 
 church and the plain-song. 
 But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson 
 
 completed, 
 
KVANGELINS. 77 
 
 wiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the 
 blacksmith. 
 
 'here at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to 
 behold him ^^'^ 
 
 'ake in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a 
 
 plaything, 
 Jailing the shoe in its place ; while near him the tire 
 
 of the cart-wheel 
 yay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of 
 
 cinders. 
 )ft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering 
 
 darkness 
 Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through 
 
 every cranny and crevice, ^^^ 
 
 A/'arm by the forge within they watched the laboring 
 
 bellows, 
 \.nd as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in 
 
 the ashes, 
 Vlerrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into 
 
 the chapel. 
 3ft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the 
 
 eagle, 
 Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the 
 
 meadow. ^^ 
 
 Dft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests 
 
 on the rafters, 
 Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which 
 
 the swallow 
 Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight 
 
 of its fledglings ; 
 [yucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the 
 
 swallow ! 
 
78 KVANGELINK. 
 
 I 
 
 Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longeri 
 
 were children. ^^'^/ 
 
 He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face o^ 
 
 the morning, 
 Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened 
 
 thought into action. 
 She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a 
 
 woman. 
 "Sunshine of St. Eulalie" was she called; for that 
 
 was the sunshine 
 Which, as the farmers believed, would load their 
 
 orchards with apples; ^^^ 
 
 She too would bring to her husband's house delight 
 
 and abundance. 
 Filling it full of love and ruddy faces of children. 
 
 SECOND READING. 
 
 Now had the season returned, when the nights 
 
 grow colder and longer, 
 And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion en- 
 ters. 
 Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from 
 
 the ice-bound, ^^° 
 
 Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical 
 
 islands. 
 Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds 
 
 of September 
 Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with 
 
 the angel. 
 All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 
 Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded 
 
 their honey ^^^ 
 
EVANGELINi:. 79 
 
 Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters as- 
 serted 
 Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the 
 
 foxes. 
 Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed 
 
 that beautiful season, 
 Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of 
 
 All-Saints! 
 Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; 
 
 and the landscape ^^^ 
 
 Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. 
 Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless 
 
 heart of the ocean 
 Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in 
 
 harmony blended. 
 Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in 
 
 the farm-yards. 
 Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing of 
 
 pigeons ^^^ 
 
 All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, 
 
 and the great sun 
 Looked with the eye of love through the golden va- 
 pors around him; 
 While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and 
 
 yellow. 
 Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree 
 
 of the forest 
 Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with 
 
 mantles and jewels. ^'^ 
 
 Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection 
 and stillness. 
 
80 SVANGEI.INS. 
 
 Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twi- 
 light descending 
 Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the 
 
 herds to the homestead. , 
 
 Pawing the ground they came, and resting their 
 
 necks on each other, 
 And with their nostrils distended inhaling the fresh- 
 ness of evening. ^'^ 
 Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful 
 
 heifer. 
 Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that 
 
 waved from her collar. 
 Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human 
 
 affection. 
 Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks 
 
 from the seaside, 
 Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them 
 
 followed the watch-dog, ^^^ 
 
 Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of 
 
 his instinct, 
 Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and 
 
 superbly 
 Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the 
 
 stragglers ; 
 Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; 
 
 their protector, 
 When from the forest at night, through the starry 
 
 silence, the wolves howled. ^^^ 
 
 Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from 
 
 the marshes, 
 Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its 
 
 odor. 
 
EVANGELINE. 81 
 
 Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes 
 and their fetlocks, 
 
 While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and pon- 
 derous saddles. 
 
 Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels 
 of crimson, ^^^ 
 
 Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with 
 blossoms. 
 
 Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their 
 udders 
 
 Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular 
 cadence 
 
 Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets de- 
 scended. 
 
 Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in 
 the farm-yard, ^^ 
 
 Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into 
 stillness; 
 
 Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of 
 the barn-doors, 
 
 Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was 
 silent. 
 
 In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly 
 the farmer 
 
 Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames 
 and the smoke- wreaths ^^ 
 
 Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Be- 
 hind him. 
 
 Nodding and mocking along the wall with gestures 
 fantastic, 
 
 Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into 
 darkness. 
 
82 EVANGELINB. 
 
 Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his 
 
 arm-chair, 
 Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates 
 
 on the dresser ^^^ 
 
 Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies 
 
 the sunshine. 
 Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of 
 
 Christmas, 
 Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before 
 
 him 
 Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgun- 
 
 dian vineyards. 
 Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline 
 
 seated, ^'' 
 
 Spinning flax for the loom that stood in the corner 
 
 behind her. 
 Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent 
 
 shuttle, 
 While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the 
 
 drone of a bagpipe, 
 Followed the old man*s song, and united the fragments 
 
 together. 
 As in a church, when the chant of the choir at inter- 
 vals ceases, ^^^ 
 Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of priest at 
 
 the altar, 
 So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion 
 
 the clock clicked. 
 
 Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, 
 suddenly lifted, 
 Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back 
 on its hinges. 
 
EVANGKLINK. 83 
 
 Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil 
 
 the blacksmith, 
 \nd by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was 
 
 with him. 
 Welcome!" the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps 
 
 paused on the threshold, 
 [•'Welcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy place 
 
 on the settle 
 Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty 
 
 without thee; 
 Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of 
 
 tobacco; 
 Never so much thyself art thou as when, through the 
 
 curling 
 Smoke of the pipe or the forge, thy friendly and jovial 
 
 face gleams 
 Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist 
 
 of the marshes.** 
 Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the 
 
 blacksmith, 
 Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fire- 
 side: — 
 "Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and' 
 
 thy ballad! 
 Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are 
 
 filled with 
 Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only rum before 
 
 them. -J 
 
 Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up 
 
 a horseshoe." 
 Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline 
 
 brought him, 
 
84 «VANGKI,INE. 
 
 
 And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he 
 
 slowly continued: — 
 ^^Four days now are passed since the English ships 
 
 at their anchors 
 Ride in the Gasperean's mouth, with their cannot 
 
 pointed against us. 
 What their design may be is unknown; but all are 
 
 commanded 
 On the morrow to meet in the church, where his 
 
 Majesty's mandate 2# 
 
 Will be proclaimed as law in the land. AlasI in the 
 
 mean time 
 Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people.' 
 Then made answer the farmer: — ''Perhaps som( 
 
 friendlier purpose 
 Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the har 
 
 vests in England 
 By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been 
 
 blighted, 245 
 
 And from our bursting barns they would feed theitj 
 
 cattle and children." 
 "Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said warmly 
 
 the blacksmith. 
 Shaking his head as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, 
 
 he continued: — 
 "Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Seiour, nor 
 
 Port Royal. 
 Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its 
 
 outskirts, 250 
 
 Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to- 
 morrow. 
 Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons 
 
 of all kinds; 
 
EVANGKUNE. 85 
 
 Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the 
 
 scythe of the mower." 
 Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial 
 
 farmer: — 
 ^Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks 
 
 and our cornfields, ^^^ 
 
 Safer within these peaceful dikes besieged by the ocean, 
 Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's 
 
 cannon. 
 Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow 
 
 of sorrow 
 Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night 
 
 of the contract. 
 : Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads 
 
 of the village ^ "^ 
 
 ■Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking 
 
 the glebe round about them. 
 Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food 
 
 for a twelvemonth. 
 Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and 
 
 inkhorn. 
 Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of 
 
 our children ?" 
 As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in 
 
 her lover's, 
 Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father 
 
 had spoken. 
 And, as they died on his lips, the worthy notary en- 
 tered. 
 
 THIRD READING. 
 
 Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of 
 the ocean, 
 
S6 ^VANGKIvIN^. m 
 
 Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of tbe no- | 
 tary public ; j 
 
 Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the 
 maize, hung ^^^ 
 
 Over his shoulders ; his forehead was high ; and 
 glasses with horn bows 
 
 Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom su- 
 pernal. 
 
 Father of twenty children was he, and more than a 
 hundred 
 
 Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his 
 great watch tick. 
 
 Four long years in the times of the war had he lan- 
 guished a captive, ^^^ 
 
 Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of 
 the English. 
 
 Now, though warier grown, without all guile or sus- 
 picion. 
 
 Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and 
 childlike. 
 
 He was beloved by all, and most of all by the chil- 
 dren ; 
 
 For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the 
 forest, 280 
 
 And of the goblin that came in the night to water 
 the horses. 
 
 And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child' who 
 unchristened 
 
 Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers 
 
 of children; 
 And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the 
 
 stable. 
 
Lnd how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in 
 a nutshell, 
 
 ^nd of the marvelous powers of four-leaved clover 
 and horseshoes, 
 
 Nith whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the vil- 
 lage. 
 
 Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the 
 blacksmith, 
 
 S:nocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extend- 
 ing his right hand, 
 
 ^Father Leblanc,'' he exclaimed, ''thou hast heard 
 the talk in the village, 
 
 A.nd, perchance, canst tell us some news of these 
 ships and their errand." 
 
 Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary 
 public, — 
 
 '* Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never 
 the wiser ; 
 
 And what their errand may be I know no better than 
 
 others. . 
 
 Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil mten- 
 
 tion 
 Brings them here, for we are at peace ; and why then 
 
 molest us?" 
 
 "God's name!" shouted the hasty and somewhat 
 irascible blacksmith ; . 
 
 "Must we in all things look for the how, and the 
 why, and the wherefore ? 
 
 Daily injustice is done, and might is the right ot the 
 strongest ! " . 
 
 But, without heeding his warmth, continued the no- 
 tary public, — . 
 
 "Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally ,iustice 
 
88 KVANGEI.INB. 
 
 
 Triumplis ; and well I remember a story, that ofteu 
 
 consoled me, 
 When as a captive I lay in the old French fort al 
 
 Port Royal." 
 This was the old man^s favorite tale, and he loved tc 
 
 repeat it 
 When his neighbors complained that any injustice' 
 
 was done them. ^ 
 
 "Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer 
 
 remember. 
 Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statute of Justicd 
 Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in! 
 
 its left hand. 
 And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice: 
 
 presided 
 Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes- 
 
 of the people. ^^^1 
 
 Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of ( 
 
 the balance. 
 Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sun-- 
 
 shine above them. 
 But in the course of time the laws of the land were 
 
 corrupted ; j 
 
 Might took the place of right, and the weak were 
 
 oppressed, and the mighty j 
 
 Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a noble- 
 man's palace ^^^i 
 That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a 
 
 suspicion 
 Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the 
 
 household. 
 
 She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaf- 
 fold. 
 
EVANGEI.INK. 89 
 
 ^tiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of 
 Justice. . . 
 
 |S to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit as- 
 cended, 
 
 o ! o'er the city a tempest rose ; and the bolts of the 
 thunder 
 
 mote the statue of bronze, and hurled m wrath Irom 
 
 ' its left hand 
 
 iQwn on the pavement below the clattering scales ot 
 
 the balance, 
 .nd in the hollow thereof was found the nest ot a 
 
 magpie, 
 ato whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was 
 
 inwoven, 
 ilenced, but not convinced, when the story was 
 
 ended, the blacksmith r i ^i, 
 
 tood like a man who fain would speak, but tindeth 
 
 no language; 
 l11 his thoughts were congealed into lines on His 
 
 face, as the vapors 
 freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes m 
 
 the winter. 
 
 Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the 
 
 mied, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with 
 home-brewed . . 
 
 Nlut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength m the 
 village of Grand-Pre ; 
 
 Awhile from his pocket the notary drew his papers 
 and inkhorn, , 
 
 A^rote with a steady hand the date and the age of the 
 
 parties, 
 
90 KyANGKI.INK. 
 
 Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep an 
 
 in cattle. 
 Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well wer 
 
 completed, 
 And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on 
 
 the margin. 
 Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on 
 
 the table 
 Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver; 
 And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and: 
 
 bridegroom, ^^® 
 
 Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their 
 
 welfare. 
 Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and 
 
 departed, 
 While in silence the others sat and mused by the 
 
 fireside. 
 Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its 
 
 corner. 
 Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention 
 
 the old men ^"^^ 
 
 Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre, 
 Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was ; 
 
 made in the king-row. 
 Meanwhile, apart, in the twilight glooip of a window's 
 
 embrasure, 
 Sat the lovers and whispered together, beholding the 
 
 moon rise 
 Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the mead- 
 ows. ^^^*'; 
 
 Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of 
 heaven, 
 
EVANGELINE. 91 
 
 piossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the 
 angels. 
 
 Thns was the evening passed. Anon the bell from 
 , the belfry 
 Rang ont the honr of nine, the village curfew, and 
 I straightway , . 
 
 Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in 
 
 the household. 
 Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the 
 
 door-step 
 Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with 
 
 gladness. 
 
 Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed 
 on the hearth-stone, 
 
 And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the 
 farmer. 
 
 Scon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline fol- 
 lowed. ' V, A ^ 
 
 Up the staircase moved a luminous space m the dark- 
 ness, . - - 
 
 Lighted less by the lamp than the shmmg face ot the 
 
 maiden. 
 Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the 
 
 door of her chamber. 
 Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, 
 
 and its clothes-press 
 Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were 
 
 carefully folded , r ^ i • 
 
 Linen and woolen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline 
 
 woven 111- 4. t. 
 
 This was the precious dower she would bring to Her 
 
 husband in marriage, 
 
92 EVANGSIvIN^. 
 
 Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill 
 
 as a housewife. 
 Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and 
 
 radiant moonlight 1 
 
 Streamed through the windows, and lighted the room, 
 
 till the heart of the maiden ^^^ . 
 
 Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides j 
 
 of the ocean. 
 Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she 
 
 stood with 
 Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her 
 
 chamber! 
 Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the 
 
 orchard, 
 Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her 
 
 lamp and her shadow. ^^^ 
 
 Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling 
 
 of sadness 
 Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in 
 
 the moonlight 
 Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a 
 
 moment. 
 And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serene!y 
 
 the moon pass 
 Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow 
 
 her footsteps, ^^^ 
 
 As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered 
 
 with Hagar. 
 
 FOURTH READING. 
 
 Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village 
 of Grand-Pre. 
 
EVANGKLINK. 93 
 
 Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of 
 
 Minas, 
 Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were 
 
 riding at anchor. 
 
 Life had been long astir in the village, and clamorous 
 labor '^^'^ 
 
 Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates 
 of the morning. 
 
 Now from the country around, from the farms and 
 neighboring hamlets. 
 
 Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian 
 peasants. 
 
 Many a glad good- morrow and jocund laugh from the 
 young folk 
 
 Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numer- 
 ous meadows, ^^ 
 
 Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels 
 in the greensward, 
 
 Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on 
 . the highway. 
 
 Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were 
 silenced. 
 
 Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy 
 groups at the house-doors 
 
 Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped to- 
 gether. 
 
 Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed 
 and feasted; 
 
 For with this simple people, who lived like brothers 
 together. 
 
 All things were held in common, and what one had 
 was another's. 
 
94 EVANGEI.INE 
 
 
 Yet under Benedict's" roof hospitality seemed more 
 abundant: 
 
 For Evangeline stood among the guests of her 
 father. ^oo 
 
 Bright was her face with smiles, and words of wel- 
 come and gladness 
 
 Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as 
 she gave it. | 
 
 a 
 
 Under the open sky, in the odorous air of th^ 
 orchard, 
 
 Stript of its golden fruit, v/as spread the feast of be 
 trothal. 
 
 There in the shade of the porch were the priest and 
 the notary seated; 
 
 There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the black- 
 smith. 
 
 Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider press and 
 the bee-hives, 
 
 Michael the fiddler v/as placed, with the gayest of 
 hearts and of waistcoats. 
 
 Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played 
 on his snow-white 
 
 Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of 
 the fiddler 410 
 
 downed like a living coal when the ashes are blown 
 from the embers. 
 
 Gaily the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his 
 
 fiddle. 
 Tons les Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon de 
 
 Dunkerque^ 
 And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. 
 
EVANGKLINK. 95 
 
 Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying 
 
 dances '^^^ 
 
 Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the 
 
 meadows; 
 Old folk and young together, and children mingled 
 
 among them. 
 Fairest of all maids was Evangeline, Benedict's 
 
 daughter! 
 Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the 
 
 blacksmith! 
 
 So passed the morning away. And lo! with a sum- 
 mons sonorous ^^^ 
 
 Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the mead- 
 ows a drum beat. 
 
 Thronged ere long was the church with men. With- 
 out, in the churchyard, 
 
 Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and 
 hung on the headstones 
 
 Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from 
 the forest. 
 
 Then came the guard from the ships, and marching 
 proudly among them "^^^ 
 
 Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant 
 clangor 
 
 Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling 
 and casement, — 
 
 Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous 
 portal 
 
 Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of 
 the soldiers. 
 
 Then uprose their commander, and spake from the 
 steps of the altar, ^^^ 
 
96 EVANGELINE. I 
 
 Holding aloft in his hands, with the seals, the royal 
 
 commission. 
 "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Maj- 
 esty's orders. 
 Clement and kind has he been; but how you have 
 
 answered his kindness 
 Let your own hearts reply ! To my natural makej 
 
 and my temper * 
 
 Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must 
 
 be grievous. ^^^ 
 
 Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our 
 
 monarch: 
 Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle 
 
 of all kinds 
 Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves 
 
 from this province 
 Be transported to other lands. God grant you may 
 
 dw^ell there 
 Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable peo 
 
 pie! ... '''' 
 
 Prisoners now I declare you, for such is his Majesty's 
 
 pleasure!" 
 As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of 
 
 summer, 
 Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the 
 
 hailstones 
 Beats down the farmer's corn in the field, and shatters 
 
 his windows. 
 Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch 
 
 from the house-roofs, ^^^ 
 
 Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their en- 
 closures: 
 
evangkline;. 97 
 
 So on the hearts of the people descended the words of 
 
 the speaker. 
 Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and 
 
 then rose 
 Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, 
 And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to 
 
 the door-way. ^^'^ 
 
 Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce im- 
 precations 
 Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the 
 
 heads of the others 
 Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the 
 
 blacksmith, 
 As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows. 
 Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and 
 
 wildly he shouted,— ^^^ 
 
 "Down with the tyrants of England! we never have 
 
 sworn them allegiance! 
 Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our 
 
 homes and our harvests!" 
 More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand 
 
 ' of a soldier 
 Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down 
 
 to the pavement. 
 
 In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry con- 
 tention, 
 Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician 
 Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of 
 
 the altar. 
 Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed 
 into silence 
 
98 KVAngeIvINe:. 
 
 I 
 
 All that clamorous throng; and thus lie spake to his. 
 
 people; 
 Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured 
 
 and mournful ^^"^ 
 
 Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the 
 
 clock strikes. . 
 
 "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness | 
 
 has seized you? • 
 Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and 
 
 taught you, 
 Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one an- 
 other! 
 Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers 
 
 and privations? ' ^^^ 
 
 Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and 
 
 forgiveness? 
 This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would 
 
 you profane it 
 Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with 
 
 hatred? 
 Lo! where the crucified Christ from His cross is gaz- 
 ing upon you ! 
 See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy 
 
 compassion! ^^^ 
 
 Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O 
 
 Father, forgive them!' 
 Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked 
 
 assail us, 
 Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive 
 
 them!' " 
 Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts 
 
 of his people 
 
EVANGELINE. 99 
 
 Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the pas- 
 sionate outbreak, "^^^ 
 
 While they repeated his prayer and said, "O Father, 
 forgive them!" 
 
 Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed 
 
 from the altar; 
 Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the 
 
 people responded. 
 Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the 
 
 Ave Maria 
 Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls,_ 
 
 with devotion translated. 
 Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending 
 
 to heaven. 
 
 Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of 
 
 ill, and on all sides 
 Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women 
 
 and children. 
 Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her 
 
 right hand 
 Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, 
 
 that, descending. 
 Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, 
 
 and roofed each 
 Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned 
 
 its windows. 
 Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on 
 
 the table ; 
 There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant 
 
 with wild flowers ; 
 
100 EVANGELINE. I 
 
 There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh? 
 brought from the dairy ; ^^^ 
 
 And at the head of the board the great arm-chair of 
 the farmer. 
 
 Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as 
 the sunset 
 
 Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad am- 
 brosial meadows. 
 
 Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had 
 fallen, 
 
 And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial 
 ascended, — ^ 
 
 Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, 
 and patience ! 
 
 Then, all forgetful of self, she wandered into the 
 village. 
 
 Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts 
 of the women, 
 
 As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they 
 departed. 
 
 Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet 
 of their children. ^^ 
 
 Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glim- 
 mering vapors 
 
 Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descend- 
 ing from Sinai. 
 
 Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus 
 sounded. 
 
 Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evan- 
 geline lingered. 
 All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the 
 windows ^^^ 
 
BVANGELINK. 101 
 
 Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome 
 
 by emotion 
 "Gabriel!" cried slie aloud with tremulous voice, but 
 
 no answer 
 Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier 
 
 grave of the living. 
 Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house 
 
 of her father. 
 Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board was 
 
 the supper untasted. ^^^ 
 
 Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with 
 
 phantoms of terror. 
 Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her 
 
 chamber. 
 In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate 
 
 rain fall 
 Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by 
 
 the window. 
 Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the 
 
 echoing thunder ^^^ 
 
 Told her that God was in heaven and governed the 
 
 world He created! 
 Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the 
 
 justice of Heaven; 
 Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully 
 
 slumbered till morning. 
 
 FIFTH READING. 
 
 Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on 
 the fifth day 
 Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the 
 farm-house. ^^ 
 
102 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful 
 
 procession, 
 Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the 
 
 Acadian women, 
 Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to ' 
 
 the sea-shore, 
 Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their 
 
 dwellings, 
 Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road 
 
 and the woodland. ^^^ 
 
 Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on i 
 
 the oxen. 
 While in their little hands they clasped some frag- 
 ments of playthings. 
 
 Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and 
 
 there on the sea-beach 
 Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the 
 
 peasants. 
 All day long between the shore and the ships did the 
 
 boats ply; ^^^ 
 
 All day long the wains. came laboring down from the 
 
 village. 
 Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his 
 
 setting. 
 Echoed far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from 
 
 the churchyard. 
 Thither the women and children thronged. On a 
 
 sudden the church-doors 
 Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in 
 
 gloomy procession ^^° 
 
 Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian 
 
 farmers. 
 
BVANGKIvINEJ. 103 
 
 Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes 
 and their country, 
 
 Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary 
 and wayworn. 
 
 So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants de- 
 scended 
 
 Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives 
 and their daughters. ^'^^ 
 
 Foremost the young men came; and raising together 
 their voices. 
 
 Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic 
 Missions: — 
 
 "Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible fountain! 
 
 Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission 
 and patience!" 
 
 Then the old men, as they marched, and the women 
 that stood by the wayside ''""^ 
 
 Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sun- 
 shine above them 
 
 Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits 
 departed. 
 
 Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in 
 
 silence. 
 Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of 
 
 affliction, — 
 Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession 
 
 approached her, ^'^ 
 
 And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. 
 Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to 
 
 meet him, 
 Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his 
 
 shoulder, and whispered, — 
 
104 :EVANGELINE. 
 
 ''Gabriel! be of good cheer! for if we love one 
 another 
 
 Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances, 
 ma}^ happen !'' ^^^j 
 
 Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, ' 
 for her father 
 
 Saw she, slowly advancing. Alas ! how changed was 
 his aspect! 
 
 Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from 
 his eye, and his footstep 
 
 Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart 
 in his bosom. 
 
 But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck 
 and embraced him, ^^^ 
 
 Speaking words of endearment where words of com- 
 fort availed not. 
 
 Thus to the Gasperau's mouth moved on that mourn- 
 ful procession. 
 
 There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir 
 
 of embarking. 
 Busily plied the freighted boats ; and in the confusion 
 Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, 
 
 too late, saw their children ^''^ 
 
 Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest 
 
 entreaties. 
 So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried, 
 While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with 
 
 her father. 
 Half the task was not done when the sun went down, 
 
 and the twilight 
 Deepened and darkened around ; and in haste the 
 
 refluent ocean ^^^ 
 

 EVANGELINE. 105 
 
 Fled away from tlie shore, and left the line of the 
 
 sand-beach 
 Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the 
 
 slippery sea-weed. 
 Farther back in the midst of the household goods and 
 
 the wagons, 
 Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle. 
 All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near 
 
 them, 580 
 
 Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian 
 
 farmers. 
 Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing 
 
 ocean, 
 Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and 
 
 leaving 
 Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the 
 
 sailors. 
 Then, as the night descended, the herds returned 
 
 from their pastures, ^^^ 
 
 Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk 
 
 from their udders 
 Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known 
 
 bars of the farm-yard, — 
 Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand 
 
 of the milkmaid. 
 Silence reigned in the streets ; from the church no 
 
 Angelus sounded. 
 Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights 
 
 from the windows. ''^^ 
 
 But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had 
 been kindled, 
 
i 
 
 106 KVANGELINK. 
 
 Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from 
 
 wrecks in the tempest. 
 Round them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces wer 
 
 gathered, 
 Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the 
 
 crying of children. 
 Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in 
 
 his parish, ^'^"^ 
 
 Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing 
 
 and cheering, 
 Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea- 
 shore. 
 Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat 
 
 with her father. 
 And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old 
 
 man, 
 Haggard and hollow and wan, and without either 
 
 thought or emotion, ^^^ 
 
 E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have 
 
 been taken. 
 Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to 
 
 cheer him, 
 Vainly offered him food; yet he moved not, he looked 
 
 not, he spake not. 
 But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering 
 
 fire-light. 
 
 ^^BenediciteP^ murmured the priest, in tones of com- 
 passion. ^'^^ 
 More he fain would have said, but his heart was full 
 
 and his accents 
 Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child 
 
 on a threshold, . 
 
EVANGELINE. 107 
 
 Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful pres- 
 ence of sorrow. 
 
 Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the 
 maiden, 
 
 Raising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that above 
 them 610 
 
 Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and 
 sorrows of mortals. 
 
 Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together 
 in silence. 
 
 Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn 
 
 the blood-red 
 Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the 
 
 horizon 
 Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain 
 
 and meadow, ^^^ 
 
 Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge 
 
 shadows together. 
 Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of 
 
 the village, 
 Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that 
 
 lay in the roadstead. 
 Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of 
 
 flame were 
 Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the 
 
 quivering hands of a martyr ^~^ 
 
 Then, as the wind seized the gleeas and the burning 
 
 thatch, and, uplifting, 
 Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a 
 
 hundred house-tops 
 Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame inter- 
 mingled. 
 
108 EVANGELINE. 
 
 These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the 
 
 shore and on shipboard. 
 Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in 
 
 their anguish, ^'^"^ 
 
 ^'We shall behold no more our homes in the village 
 
 of Grand-Pre!" 
 Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the 
 
 farmyards, 
 Thinking the day had dawned; and anon the lowing 
 
 of cattle 
 Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs 
 
 interrupted. 
 Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the 
 
 sleeping encampments ^^^ 
 
 Far in the western prairies of forests that skirt the 
 
 Nebraska, 
 When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the 
 
 speed of the whirlwind, 
 Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the 
 
 river. 
 Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the 
 
 herds and the horses 
 Broke through their folds and fences, and madly 
 
 rushed o'er the meadows. ^^ 
 
 Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the 
 
 priest and the maiden 
 Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and 
 
 widened before them; 
 And as they turned at length to speak to their silent 
 
 companion, 
 Lo! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad 
 
 on the seashore 
 
EVANGKUNK. 109 
 
 Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had de- 
 parted. 640 
 
 Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the 
 maiden 
 
 Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her 
 terror. 
 
 Then in a swoon she sank and lay with her head on 
 his bosom. 
 
 Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious 
 slumber; 
 
 And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a 
 multitude near her. ^^^ 
 
 Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gaz- 
 ing upon her, 
 
 Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest com- 
 passion. 
 Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the 
 
 landscape. 
 Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces 
 
 around her. 
 And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering 
 
 senses. ^^^ 
 
 Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the 
 
 people, — 
 " Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier 
 
 season 
 Brings us again to our homes from the unknown 
 
 land of our exile. 
 Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the 
 
 churchyard." 
 Such were the words of the priest. And there in 
 
 haste by the sea- side, ^^ 
 
110 KVANGKLINE. 
 
 Having the glare of the burning village for funeral 
 
 torches, 
 But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of I 
 
 Grand-Pre. ' 
 
 And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of 
 
 sorrow, 
 Lo ! with a mournful sound like the voice of a vast 
 
 congregation, 
 Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar 
 
 with the dirges. ^'' 
 
 'T w^as the returning tide, that afar from the waste 
 
 of the ocean, 
 With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and 
 
 hurrying landward. 
 Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of 
 
 embarking; 
 And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out of 
 
 the harbor. 
 Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the 
 
 village in ruins. ^^'^ 
 
 SIXTH READING. 
 
 Many a weary year had passed since the burning of 
 Grand-Pre. 
 
 When on the falling tide the freighted vessels de- 
 parted. 
 
 Bearing a nation, with all its household goods, into 
 exile. 
 
 Exile without an end, and without an example in 
 story. 
 
 Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadian s 
 landed; *^^*' 
 
KVANGEIylNK. Ill 
 
 Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the 
 wind from the northeast 
 
 Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks 
 
 of Newfoundland. 
 Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from 
 
 city to city. 
 From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern 
 
 savannas — 
 From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where 
 
 the Father of Waters ^'^ 
 
 Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down 
 
 to the ocean. 
 Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the 
 
 mammoth. 
 Friends they sought and homes; and many, despair- 
 ing, heart-broken. 
 Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend 
 
 nor a fireside. 
 Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the 
 
 churchyards. ^^^ 
 
 Long among them was seen a maiden who waited and 
 
 wandered. 
 Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all 
 
 things. 
 Fair was she and young; but, alas! bsfore her ex- 
 tended. 
 Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its 
 
 pathway 
 Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and 
 
 suffered before her, ^^'' 
 
 Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and 
 
 abandoned, 
 
112 EVANGKLINK. 
 
 As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is 
 marked by 
 
 Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in 
 the sunshine. 
 
 Something there was in her life incomplete, imper- 
 fect, unfinished; 
 
 As if a morning of June, with all its music and sun- 
 shine, 
 
 Suddenly paused in the sky, and fading, slowly de- 
 scended 
 
 Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen 
 
 Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the || 
 fever within her, ! 
 
 Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of 
 the spirit. 
 
 She would commence again her endless search and 
 endeavor; '^^ 
 
 Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the 
 crosses and toinbstones, 
 
 Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that per- 
 haps in its bosom, 
 
 He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber 
 beside him. 
 
 Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, 
 
 Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her for- 
 ward. 
 
 Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her 
 beloved and knowm him, 
 
 But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgot- 
 ten. 
 
 "Gabriel Lajeunesse! " they said; "Oh, yes! we have 
 seen him. 
 
EVANGKLINK. 113 
 
 He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have 
 
 gone to the prairies ; 
 Coureurs-des-bois are they, and famous hunters and 
 
 trappers." ™-^ 
 
 "Gabriel Lajeunesse ! " said others; "Oh, yes! we 
 
 have seen him. 
 He is a voyageur in the lowlands of Louisiana." 
 Then would they say, "Dear child! why dream and 
 I wait for him longer ? 
 
 Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel ? Others 
 Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as 
 
 loyal ? ' i« 
 
 Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has 
 
 loved thee 
 Many a tedious year; come, give him thy hand and 
 
 be happy !" 
 Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, 
 
 " I cannot ! 
 Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, 
 
 and not elsewhere. ^^^ 
 
 For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and 
 
 illumines the pathway. 
 Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in 
 
 darkness." 
 Thereupon the priest, her friend and father con- 
 fessor. 
 Said, with a smile, "O daughter! thy God thus 
 
 speaketh within thee ! 
 Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was 
 
 wasted ; ^~^ 
 
 If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, re- 
 turning 
 
114 KVANGELINK. 
 
 Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them 
 
 full of refreshment ; 
 That which the fountain sends forth returns again to 
 
 the fountain. 
 Patience ; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work 
 
 of affection ! 
 Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance 
 
 is godlike. ^^^ 
 
 Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart 
 
 is made godlike. 
 Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more 
 
 worthy of heaven ! " 
 Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored 
 
 and waited. 
 Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the 
 
 ocean, 
 But with its sound there was mingled a voice that 
 
 whispered, " Despair not ! " '^^^ 
 
 Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless 
 
 discomfort, 
 Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of 
 
 existence. 
 Let me essay, O Muse! to follow the wanderer's foot- 
 steps; — 
 Not through each devious path, each changeful year 
 
 of existence; 
 But as a traveler follows a streamlet's course through 
 
 the valley: ^^^ 
 
 Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam 
 
 of its water 
 Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals 
 
 only; 
 
KVANGEUNK. 115 
 
 Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan 
 
 glooms that conceal it, 
 Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous 
 
 murmur; 
 Happy, at length, if he find a spot where it reaches 
 
 an outlet. '^^'^ 
 
 SEVENTH READING. 
 
 It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful 
 River, 
 
 Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wa- 
 bash, 
 
 Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mis- 
 sissippi, 
 
 Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian 
 boatmen. 
 
 It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the 
 shipwrecked '^'^^ 
 
 Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating to- 
 gether, 
 
 Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a com- 
 mon misfortune; 
 
 Men and women and children, who, guided by hope 
 or by hearsay. 
 
 Sought for their kith and their kin among the few- 
 acred farmers 
 
 On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Ope- 
 lousas. 
 
 With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the 
 Father Felician. 
 
 Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness 
 sombre with forests, 
 
116 EVANGELINK. 
 
 Day after day they glided adown the turbulent 
 river; 
 
 Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on 
 its borders. 
 
 Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, 
 where plumelike ^'^ 
 
 Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept 
 with the current. 
 
 Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand- 
 bars 
 
 Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of 
 their margin. 
 
 Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pel- 
 icans waded. 
 
 Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the 
 river, ^^^ 
 
 Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gar- 
 dens, 
 
 Stood the houses of planters, with negro cabins and 
 dove-cots. 
 
 They were approaching the region where reigns per- 
 petual summer. 
 
 Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of 
 orange and citron, 
 
 Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the 
 eastward. '^^'^ 
 
 They; too, swerved from .their course; and, entering 
 the Bayou of Plaquemine, 
 
 Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious 
 waters. 
 
 Which, like a network of steel, extended in ever}^ 
 direction. 
 
KVANGELINK. 117 
 
 Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs 
 of the cypress 
 
 Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid- 
 air •'« 
 
 Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient 
 I cathedrals. 
 
 Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by 
 the herons 
 
 Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at 
 sunset, 
 
 Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac 
 laughter. 
 
 Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed 
 on the water, '^'"'^ 
 
 Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sus- 
 taining the arches, 
 
 Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through 
 chinks in a ruin. 
 
 Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things 
 around them ; 
 
 And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder 
 and sadness, — 
 
 Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be 
 
 1 780 
 
 compassea. 
 As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the 
 
 prairies, 
 Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking 
 
 mimosa, 
 So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of 
 
 evil, 
 Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom 
 
 has attained it. 
 
118 KVANGEI.INE. 
 
 But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, 
 
 that faintly '^^ 
 
 Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through 
 
 the moonlight. 
 It was the thought of her brain that assumed the 
 
 shape of a phantom. 
 Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered 
 
 before her, 
 And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer 
 
 and nearer. 
 
 Then, in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose 
 
 one of the oarsmen, ^^^ 
 
 And, as a signal sound, if others like them perad- 
 
 venture 
 Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew 
 
 a blast on his bugle. 
 Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy 
 
 the blast rang. 
 Breaking the seal of silence and giving tongues to 
 
 the forest. 
 Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred 
 
 to the music. ^^^ 
 
 Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, 
 Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant 
 
 branches; 
 But not a voice replied ; no answer came from the 
 
 darkness ; 
 And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain 
 
 was the silence. 
 Then Evangeline slept; but the boatmen rowed 
 
 through the midnight, ^^ 
 
E:VANGEUN]e. 119 
 
 Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat- 
 songs, 
 
 Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers. 
 
 While through the night were heard the mysterious 
 sounds of the desert, 
 
 Far off, — indistinct, — as of wave or wind in the 
 forest. 
 
 Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of 
 the grim alligator. ^^^ 
 
 Thus ere another noon they emerged from the 
 shades ; and before them 
 
 Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. 
 
 Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undula- 
 tions 
 
 Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, 
 the lotus 
 
 Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boat- 
 men. ''' 
 
 Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magno- 
 lia blossoms. 
 
 And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan 
 islands, 
 
 Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming 
 hedges of roses, 
 
 Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to 
 slumber. 
 
 Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were 
 suspended. 
 
 Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by 
 the margin. 
 
 Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on 
 the greensward. 
 
120 KVANGELINK. 
 
 Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers! 
 slumbered. ■ 
 
 Over them vast and high extended the cope of a 
 cedar. 
 
 Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and 
 the grapevine ^'^^ 
 
 Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of 
 Jacob, 
 
 On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, de- 
 scending, 
 
 Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blos- 
 som to blossom. 
 
 Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered 
 
 beneath it. 
 Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an 
 
 opening heaven ^^^ 
 
 Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions 
 
 celestial. 
 
 Nearer, ever nearer, among the numberless islands, 
 
 Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the 
 water, 
 
 Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters 
 and trappers. 
 
 Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the 
 bison and beaver. ^^^ 
 
 At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thought- 
 ful and careworn. 
 
 Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and 
 
 a sadness 
 Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly 
 
 written. 
 
EVANGELINE. 121 
 
 Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy 
 
 and restless. 
 Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of 
 
 sorrow. 
 
 835 
 
 Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the 
 island. 
 
 But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of pal- 
 mettos; 
 
 So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed 
 in the willows; 
 
 All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, 
 were the sleepers; 
 
 Angel of God was their none to awaken the slumber- 
 ing maiden. ^^^ 
 
 Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on 
 the prairie. 
 
 After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died 
 in the distance, 
 
 As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the 
 maiden 
 
 Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, "O Father 
 Felician! 
 
 Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel 
 wanders. ^^' 
 
 Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition? 
 
 Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my 
 spirit?" 
 
 Then, with a blush, she added, "Alas for my credu- 
 lous fancy! 
 
 Unto ears like thine such words as these have no 
 meaning." 
 
 But made answer the reverened man, and he smiled 
 as he answered, — 
 
122 EVANGELINE. 
 
 ^'Daughter, thy words are not idle; nor are they to 
 
 me without meaning, 
 Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on 
 
 the surface 
 Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor 
 
 is hidden. 
 Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world 
 
 calls illusions. 
 Gabriel truly is near thee; for not far away to the 
 
 southward, ^ 
 
 On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. 
 
 Maur and St. Martin. 
 There the long-wandering bride shall be given again 
 
 to her bridegroom. 
 There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his 
 
 sheepfold. 
 Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of 
 
 fruit-trees; 
 Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of 
 
 heavens ^^^ 
 
 Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of 
 
 the forest. 
 They who dwell there have named it the Eden of 
 
 Louisiana." 
 
 With these words of cheer they arose and con- 
 tinued their journey. 
 
 Softly the evening came. The sun from the western 
 horizon 
 
 Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the 
 landscape; ^^' 
 
 Twinkling vapors arose ; and sky and water and forest 
 
EVANGELINE. 123 
 
 Seemed all on fire at the touch ; and melted and 
 
 mingled together. 
 Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of 
 
 silver, 
 Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the mo- 
 tionless water. 
 Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible 
 
 sweetness. ^^'^ 
 
 Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountains of 
 
 feeling 
 Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters 
 
 around her. 
 Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, 
 
 wildest of singers, 
 Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the 
 
 water. 
 Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious 
 
 music ''" 
 
 That the whole air and the woods and the waves 
 
 seemed silent to listen. 
 Plaintive at first were the tones, and sad; then soaring 
 
 to madness 
 Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied 
 
 Bacchantes. 
 Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low, lam- 
 entation ; 
 Till, havino: srathered them all, he flung them abroad 
 
 ' . T P .^ 880 
 
 m derision. 
 As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the 
 
 tree-tops 
 Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower ou 
 
 the branches. 
 
124 EVANGEUNK. 
 
 With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed 
 with emotion, 
 
 Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through 
 the green Opelousas, 
 
 And, through the amber air, above the crest of the 
 woodland, ^^^ 
 
 Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neigh- 
 boring dwelling ;— 
 
 Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing 
 of cattle. 
 
 EIGHTH READING. 
 
 Near to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by 
 oaks from whose branches 
 
 Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe 
 flaunted, 
 
 Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at 
 Yule-tide, ''' 
 
 Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. 
 A garden 
 
 Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blos- 
 soms, 
 
 Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was 
 of timbers 
 
 Hewn from the cypress -tree, and carefully fitted to- 
 gether. 
 
 Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns 
 supported, ^^"' 
 
 Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious 
 veranda. 
 
 Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended 
 around it. 
 
kvange:i.ink. 125 
 
 At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the 
 garden, 
 
 Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual sym- 
 bol, 
 
 Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of 
 rivals. •'«'^ 
 
 Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow 
 and sunshine 
 
 Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself 
 was in shadow, 
 
 And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly ex- 
 panding 
 
 Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke 
 rose. 
 
 In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a 
 pathway ^^^ 
 
 Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the 
 limitless prairie. 
 
 Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descend- 
 ing. 
 
 Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy 
 canvas 
 
 Hanging loose from their spar in a motionless calm 
 in the tropcis, 
 
 Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of 
 grapevines. 
 
 Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of 
 
 the prairie, 
 Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and 
 
 stirrups. 
 Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of 
 
 deerskin. 
 
126 KVANGETJNE. 
 
 Broad and brown was the face tliat from under the 
 
 Spanish sombrero 
 Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of 
 
 its master. ^^^i 
 
 Round about him were numberless herds of kinethat 
 
 were grazing 
 Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory 
 
 freshness 
 That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the 
 
 landscape. 
 Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and 
 
 expanding 
 Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that re- 
 
 sounded ^^^ 
 
 Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air, 
 
 of the evening. 
 Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the 
 
 cattle 
 Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of 
 
 ocean. 
 Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed 
 
 o'er the prairie, 
 And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the 
 
 distance. ^'^^ 
 
 Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through 
 
 the gate of the garden 
 Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden ad- 
 vancing to meet him. 
 Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amaze- 
 ment, and forward 
 
 Pushed with extended arms and exclamations of won- 
 der: 
 
KVANGKUNK. 127 
 
 When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the 
 
 blacksmith. '^^^ 
 
 Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the 
 
 garden. 
 There in an arbor of roses with endless question and 
 
 answer 
 Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their 
 
 friendly embraces, 
 Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and 
 
 thoughtful. 
 Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark 
 
 doubts and misgivings ^^^ 
 
 Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat 
 
 embarrassed, 
 Broke the silence and said, "If you came by the 
 
 Atchafalaya, 
 How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's 
 
 boat on the bayous?" 
 Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade 
 
 passed. 
 Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a trem- 
 ulous accent, ^^^ 
 *'Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face 
 
 on his shoulder,< 
 All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept 
 
 and lamented. 
 Then the good Basil said, — and his voice grew blithe 
 
 as he said it, — 
 "Be of good cheer, my child; it is only today he 
 
 departed. 
 Foolish bovl he has left me alone with my herds and 
 
 •U 945 
 
 my horses. 
 
128 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his 
 spirit 
 
 Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet exis- 
 tence. 
 
 Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful 
 ever, 
 
 Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, 
 
 He at length had become so tedious to men and to 
 maidens, ^^^ 
 
 Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, 
 and sent him 
 
 Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the 
 Spaniards. 
 
 Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark 
 Mountains, 
 
 Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping 
 the beaver. 
 
 Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow^ the fugi- 
 tive lover; ^^ 
 
 He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the 
 streams are against him. 
 
 Up and away tomorrow, and through the red dew of 
 the morning. 
 
 We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his 
 prison." 
 
 Then glad voices were heard, and up from the 
 
 banks of the river. 
 Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the 
 
 fiddler. 
 Long under Basil's roof had he lived, like a god on 
 
 Olympus, 
 
EVANGKUNE. 129 
 
 Having no other care than dispensing music to mor- 
 tals. 
 
 Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his 
 fiddle. 
 
 'Xong live Michael, '^ they cried, "our brave Acadian 
 minstrel!" 
 
 As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and 
 straightway '^^-^ 
 
 Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting 
 
 the old man 
 I Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, 
 ! enraptured, 
 
 Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and 
 
 gossips, 
 Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and 
 
 daughters. 
 Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci-devant 
 
 blacksmith, ^'^ 
 
 All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal 
 
 demeanor ; 
 Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil and 
 
 the climate, 
 And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his 
 
 who would take them ; 
 Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go 
 
 and do likewise. 
 Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the breezy 
 
 veranda, '''"' 
 
 Entered the hall of the house, where already the 
 
 supper of Basil 
 Waited his late return ; and they rested and feasted 
 
 together. 
 
130 KVANGKLIN^. 
 
 Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness de- 
 scended. 
 
 All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape 
 with silver, 
 
 Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars ; but 
 within doors, ^^^ 
 
 Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the 
 glimmering lamplight. 
 
 Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, 
 the herdsman 
 
 Poured forth his heart and his wine together in end- 
 less profusion. 
 
 Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchi- 
 toches tobacco. 
 
 Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled 
 as they listened : — ^^^ 
 
 "Welcome once more, my friends, who long have 
 been friendless and homeless. 
 
 Welcome once more to a home, that, is better per- 
 chance than the old one ! 
 
 Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the 
 rivers ; 
 
 Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the 
 farmer ; 
 
 Smoothly the plowshare runs through the soil, as a 
 keel through the water. ^^^ 
 
 All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom ; 
 and grass grows 
 
 More in a single night than a whole Canadian sum- 
 mer. 
 
 Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed 
 in the prairies ; 
 
- EVANGKIvINE. 131 
 
 Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and 
 
 forests of timber 
 With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed 
 
 into houses. ^^'' 
 
 After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow 
 
 with harvests. 
 No King George of England shall drive you away 
 
 from your homesteads, 
 Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your 
 
 farms and your cattle." 
 Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from 
 
 his nostrils, 
 While his huge, brown hand came thundering down 
 
 on the table, '''' 
 
 So that the guests all started ; and Father Felician, 
 
 astounded. 
 Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to 
 
 his nostrils. 
 But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were 
 
 milder and gayer: — 
 "Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the 
 
 fever! 
 For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate, ^^°^ 
 Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in 
 
 a nutshell!" 
 Then there were voices heard at the door, and foot- 
 steps approaching 
 Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy 
 
 veranda. 
 It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian 
 
 planters, 
 Who" had been summoned all to the house of Basil 
 
 the herdsman. 
 
132 EVANGELINK. 
 
 Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and 
 neighbors: 
 
 Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who 
 before were as strangers, 
 
 Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to 
 each other, 
 
 Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country 
 together. 
 
 But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, pro- 
 ceeding ^ '''' 
 
 From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious 
 fiddle, 
 
 Broke up all further speech. Away, like children 
 delighted, 
 
 All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to 
 the maddening 
 
 Whirl of the dizzy dance as it swept and swayed to 
 the music. 
 
 Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of flutter- 
 ing garments. ^^^^ 
 
 Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest 
 
 and the herdsman 
 Sat, conversing together of past and present and 
 
 future; 
 While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within 
 
 her 
 Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the 
 
 music 
 Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible 
 
 sadness ^^'^"^ 
 
 Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into 
 
 the garden. 
 
I 
 
 EVANGELINE. 133 
 
 Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of 
 
 the forest, 
 Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On 
 
 the river 
 Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous 
 
 gleam of the moonlight, 
 Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and 
 
 devious spirit. ^^^^^ 
 
 Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers 
 
 of the garden 
 Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers 
 
 aud confessions 
 Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent 
 
 Carthusian. 
 Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with 
 
 shadows and night-dews. 
 Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the 
 
 magical moonlight ^^'^^ 
 
 Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable long- 
 ings. 
 As, through the garden gate, and beneath the shade 
 
 of the oak-trees. 
 Passed she along the path to the edge of the measure- 
 less prairie. 
 Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies 
 Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite 
 
 numbers. ^^'"^^ 
 
 Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the 
 
 heavens, 
 Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel 
 
 and worship. 
 Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of 
 
 that temple, 
 
134 KVANGEIJN^. 
 
 As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, 
 
 ^'Upharsin." 
 And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and 
 
 the fire-flies, ' '''' 
 
 Wandered alone, and she cried, "O Gabriel! O my 
 
 beloved ! 
 Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold 
 
 thee? 
 Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not 
 
 reach me? 
 Ah ! how often thy feet have trod this path to the 
 
 prairie ! 
 Ah ! how often thine eyes have looked on the wood- 
 lands around me ! ^^^^ 
 Ah ! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor. 
 Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in 
 
 thy slumbers ! 
 When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded 
 
 about thee?" 
 Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill 
 
 sounded 
 Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the 
 
 neighboring thickets, . ^*^'''' 
 
 Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into 
 
 silence. 
 "Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular cav- 
 erns of darkness ; 
 And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, 
 
 " To-morrow! " 
 
 Bright rose the sun next day ; and all the flowers 
 of the garden 
 
KVANGKI^INE^. 135 
 
 Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed 
 
 his tresses ^^^'^ 
 
 With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases 
 
 of crystal. 
 "Farewell!" said the priest, as he stood at the 
 
 shadowy threshold ; 
 "See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his 
 
 fasting and famine, 
 And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the 
 
 bridegroom was coming." 
 " Farewell ! " answered the maiden, and, smiling, with 
 
 Basil descended ^^^'"^ 
 
 Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already 
 
 were waiting. 
 Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sun- 
 shine, and gladness. 
 Swiftly they followed the flight of him who wa^ 
 
 speeding before them. 
 Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the 
 
 desert. 
 Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that suc- 
 ceeded, ^ ''•' 
 Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or 
 
 river. 
 Nor, after many days, had they found him ; but vague 
 
 and uncertain 
 Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and 
 
 desolate country ; 
 Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, 
 Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the 
 
 garrulous landlord ^^"^ 
 
 That on the day before, with horses and guides and 
 
 companions, 
 
136 EVANGKLINK. 
 
 Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the 
 prairies. 
 
 NINTH READING. 
 
 Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the 
 
 mountains 
 Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and lumi- 
 nous summits. 
 Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the 
 
 gorge, like a gateway, ^^^^ 
 
 Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's 
 
 wagon, 
 Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and 
 
 Owyhee. 
 Eastward, with devious course, among the Wind-rivre 
 
 Mountains, 
 Through the Sweet- water Valley precipitate leaps the 
 
 Nebraska ; 
 And to the south, from Fontaineyquibout and the 
 
 Spanish sierras, ^^^^ 
 
 Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind 
 
 of the desert. 
 Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend 
 
 to the ocean, 
 Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn 
 
 vibrations. 
 Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, 
 
 beautiful prairies, 
 Billowy bavs of grass ever rolling in shadow and sun- 
 shine, '^ '''' 
 Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple 
 
 amorphas. 
 
EVANGELINE. 137 
 
 Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk, 
 and the roebuck ; 
 
 Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of rider- 
 less horses ; 
 
 Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary 
 with travel ; 
 
 Over them wander the scattered tribes of IshmaePs 
 children, 1095 
 
 Staining the desert with blood ; and above their ter- 
 rible war-trails 
 
 Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vul- 
 ture. 
 
 Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered 
 in battle. 
 
 By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. 
 
 Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these 
 savage marauders ; ^^^ 
 
 Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift- 
 running rivers ; 
 
 And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of 
 the desert. 
 
 Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by 
 the brook-side, 
 
 And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline 
 heaven. 
 
 Like the protecting hand of God inverted above 
 them. 
 
 Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark 
 Mountains, 
 Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers 
 behind him. 
 
138 EVANGELINE. 
 
 Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden 
 
 and Basil 
 Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to 
 
 o'ertake him. 
 Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke 
 
 of his camp-fire ^^^^ 
 
 Rise in the morning air from the distant plain ; but 
 
 at nightfall, 
 When they had reached the place, they found only 
 
 embers and ashes. 
 And, though their hearts were sad at times and their 
 
 bodies were weary, 
 Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Mor- 
 gana 
 Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and 
 
 vanished before them. ^^^^ 
 
 Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently 
 
 entered 
 Into the little camp an Indian woman, whose features 
 Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as 
 
 her sorrow. 
 She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her 
 
 people, 
 From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel 
 
 Camanches, ^^"^ 
 
 Where her Canadian husband, a coureur-des-bois, 
 
 had been murdered. 
 Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest 
 
 and friendliest welcome 
 Gave they, the words of cheer, and she sat and 
 
 feasted among them 
 
KVANGELINE. 139 
 
 On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the 
 
 embers. 
 But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his 
 
 companions, ^^-^ 
 
 Worn with the long day's march and the chase of the 
 
 deer and the bison, 
 iStretched themselves on the ground, and slept where 
 
 the quivering fire-light 
 Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms 
 
 wrapped up in their blankets, 
 Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and 
 
 repeated 
 Slowly, wdth soft, low voice, and the charm of her 
 
 Indian accent, ^'^^ 
 
 All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, 
 
 and reverses. 
 Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that 
 
 another 
 Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been 
 
 disappointed. 
 Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's 
 
 compassion. 
 Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered 
 
 was near her, '^^'^ 
 
 She in turn related her love and all its disasters. 
 Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she 
 
 had ended 
 Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious 
 
 horror 
 Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated 
 
 the tale of the Mowis; 
 Mo wis, the brideo^room of snow, who won and wedded 
 
 •1 1140 
 
 a maiden. 
 
140 KVANGKLINK. 
 
 Butj when the morning came, arose and passed from 
 
 the wigwam, 
 Fading and melting away and dissolving into the 
 
 sunshine, 
 Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far 
 
 into the forest. 
 Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seemed like a 
 
 weird incantation. 
 Told she the tale of the fair Lilinau, who was wooed 
 
 by a phantom, ^^^^ 
 
 That, through the pines o^er her father's lodge, in the 
 
 hush of the twilight, 
 Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love 
 
 to the maiden, 
 Till she followed his green and waving plume through 
 
 the forest, 
 And nevermore returned, nor was seen again by her 
 
 people. 
 Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangelin 
 
 listened ^ ^ '''' 
 
 To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region 
 
 around her 
 Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy 
 
 guest the enchantress. 
 Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the 
 
 moon rose, 
 Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious 
 
 splendor 
 Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and 
 
 filling the woodland. ^^•'' 
 
 With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the 
 
 branches 
 
 I 
 
BVANGKUNE. 141 
 
 Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible 
 
 whispers. 
 Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's 
 
 heart, but a secret, 
 Subtile sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, 
 As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of 
 
 the swallow. ^^^o 
 
 It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region of 
 
 spirits 
 Seemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a 
 
 moment 
 That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a 
 
 phantom. 
 With this thought she slept, and the fear and the 
 
 phantom had vanished. 
 Early upon the morrow the march was resumed, and 
 
 the Shawnee ^^^^ 
 
 Said, as they journeyed along, — ''On the western 
 
 slope of these mountains 
 Dwells in his little village the Black Robe chief of 
 
 the Mission. 
 Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary 
 
 and Jesus ; 
 Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, 
 
 as they hear him." 
 Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline 
 
 answered, ^^"^ 
 
 '' Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings 
 
 await us ! " 
 Thither they turned their steeds ; and behind a spur 
 
 of the mountains. 
 Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur of 
 
 voices, 
 
142 KVANGKLINK. • 
 
 And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a 
 
 river, 
 Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the 
 
 Jesuit Mission. ^^'^ 
 
 Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the 
 
 village, 
 Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children. A 
 
 crucifix fastened 
 High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by 
 
 grapevines. 
 Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneel- 
 ing beneath it. 
 This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the in- 
 tricate arches ^^^^ 
 Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers, 
 Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs 
 
 of the branches. 
 Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer 
 
 approaching, 
 Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening 
 
 devotions. 
 But when the service was done, and the benediction 
 
 had fallen '''' 
 
 Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the 
 
 hands of the sower. 
 Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, 
 
 and bade them 
 Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with 
 
 benignant expression, 
 Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue 
 
 in the forest. 
 And with words of kindness conducted them into his 
 
 wigwam. ^^^^ 
 
KVANGKlvlNK. 143 
 
 There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on 
 cakes of the maize-ear 
 
 t Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd 
 of the teacher. 
 
 Soon was their story told ; and the priest with solem- 
 nity answered : — 
 
 "Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, 
 seated 
 
 On this mat by my side, where now the maiden re- 
 poses, ^^^^ 
 
 Told me the same sad tale ; then arose and continued 
 his journey!" 
 
 Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an 
 accent of kindness ; 
 
 But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter 
 the snow-flakes 
 
 Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have 
 departed. 
 
 " Far to the north he has gone," continued the priest ; 
 "but in autumn, ^'^^ 
 
 When- the chase is done, will return again to the 
 Mission." 
 
 Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and 
 submissive, 
 
 "Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and 
 afaicted." 
 
 So seemed it wise and well unto all ; and betimes on 
 the morrow. 
 
 Mounting: his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides 
 
 1 ° • 1.205 
 
 and companions. 
 Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at 
 the Mission. 
 
144 KVANGKI.INE. 
 
 Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each 
 
 other, — 
 Days and weeks and months ; and the fields of maize 
 
 that were springing 
 Green from the ground when a stranger she came, 
 
 now waving about her, 
 Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, 
 
 and forming ^^^^ 
 
 Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged 
 
 by squirrels. 
 Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, 
 
 and the maidens 
 Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a 
 
 lover. 
 But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in 
 
 the corn-field. 
 Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not 
 
 her lover. ^~^^ 
 
 ''Patience !" the priest would say; "have faith, and 
 
 thy prayer will be answered ! 
 Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from 
 
 the meadow. 
 See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as 
 
 the magnet ; 
 This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has 
 
 planted 
 Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's 
 
 1220 
 
 journey 
 Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the 
 
 desert. 
 Sucli in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of 
 
 passion, 
 
. EVANGKI.INE. 145 
 
 Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of 
 fragrance, 
 
 But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their 
 odor is deadly. 
 
 Only this humble plant can guide us here, and here- 
 after i~~5 
 
 Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with 
 the dews of nepenthe." 
 
 So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter — 
 yet Gabriel came not ; 
 
 Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the 
 robin and bluebird 
 
 Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel 
 came not. 
 
 But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was 
 wafted '^'^^ 
 
 Sweeter than the song of bird, or hue or odor of blos- 
 som. 
 
 Far to the north and east, it is said, in the Michigan 
 forests, 
 
 Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw 
 River. 
 
 And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of 
 St. Lawrence, 
 
 Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from tlie 
 Mission. • ^''^ 
 
 When over weary ways, by long and perilous 
 marches, 
 
 She had attained at length the depths of the Michi- 
 gan forests. 
 
 Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to 
 ruin! 
 
146 BVANGKIvINK. 
 
 Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in sea- 
 sons and places 
 Divers and distant far was seen the wandering 
 
 maiden ; — ^-'^^ 
 
 Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian 
 
 Missions, 
 Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the 
 
 army. 
 Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous 
 
 cities. 
 Like a phantom she came, and passed away unre- 
 
 membered. 
 Fair was she and young, when in hope began the 
 
 long journey; ^^^"^ 
 
 Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it 
 
 ended. 
 Each succeeding year stole something away from her 
 
 beauty. 
 Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and 
 
 the shadow. 
 Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray 
 
 o'er her forehead. 
 Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly 
 
 horizon, '''' 
 
 As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the 
 
 morning. 
 
 TENTH READING. 
 
 In that delightful land which is washed by the 
 Delaware's waters. 
 Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the 
 apostle, 
 
KVANGKlvINK. 147 
 
 Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city 
 he founded. 
 
 There all the air is balm, and the peach is the em- 
 blem of beauty. ^-^^ 
 
 And the streets still reecho the names of the trees of 
 the forest, 
 
 As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose 
 haunts they molested. 
 
 There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, 
 an exile, 
 
 Finding among the children of Penn a home and a 
 country. 
 
 There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he 
 departed, ^^^^ 
 
 Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descend- 
 ants. 
 
 Something at least there was in the friendly streets 
 of the city, 
 
 Something that spake to her heart, and made her no 
 longer a stranger; 
 
 And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of 
 the Quakers, 
 
 For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, ^~^^ 
 
 Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and 
 sisters. 
 
 So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed en- 
 deavor. 
 
 Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncom- 
 plainingly; 
 
 Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her 
 thoughts and her footsteps. 
 
 As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the 
 morning ^^'^ 
 
148 KVANGEIvINE. 1 
 
 Roll away, and afar we behold the landscape below us, 
 Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and 
 
 hamlets, 
 So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the 
 
 world far below her, 
 Dark no longer, but all illumined with love ; and the 
 
 pathway 
 Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair 
 
 in the distance. ^'^"^ 
 
 Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his 
 
 image. 
 Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she 
 
 beheld him, 
 Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence 
 
 and absence. 
 Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was 
 
 not. 
 Over him years had no power; he was not changed, 
 
 but transfigured ; ^^^^ 
 
 He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and 
 
 not absent; 
 Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others, 
 This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had 
 
 taught her. 
 So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous 
 
 spices, 
 Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with 
 
 aroma. ^"^^ 
 
 Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to fol- 
 low. 
 Meekly with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her 
 
 Saviour. 
 
EVANGKLINK. 149 
 
 Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; 
 
 frequenting 
 Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of 
 
 the city, 
 Where distress and want concealed themselves from 
 
 the sunlight, ^"^^^ 
 
 Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished 
 
 neglected. 
 Night after night when the world was asleep, as the 
 
 watchman repeated 
 Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in 
 
 the city, 
 High at some lonely window he saw the light of her 
 
 taper. 
 Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow 
 
 through the suburbs ^^^^ 
 
 Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits 
 
 for the market. 
 Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its 
 
 watchings. 
 
 Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the 
 city, 
 
 Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of 
 wild pigeons. 
 
 Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in 
 their craws but an acorn. ^^"^ 
 
 And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of 
 September, 
 
 Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake 
 in the meadow. 
 
 So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural mar- 
 gin, 
 
150 EVANGKLINE. 
 
 Spread to a brackish lake the silver stream of exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, 
 the oppressor; ^^^^ 
 
 But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his 
 anger;— 
 
 Only, alas! the poor, who had neither friends nor 
 attendants, 
 
 Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the 
 homeless. 
 
 Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of meadows 
 and woodlands; — 
 
 Now the city surrounds it; but still, with its gateway 
 and wicket ^^^^ 
 
 Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls 
 seem to echo 
 
 Softly the words of the Lord: — ''The poor ye always 
 have with you." 
 
 Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of 
 Mercy. The dying 
 
 Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to be- 
 hold there 
 
 Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with 
 splendor, ^^^^ 
 
 Such as the artist paints o^er the brows of saints and 
 apostles. 
 
 Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a dist- 
 ance. 
 
 Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celes- 
 tial, 
 
 Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would 
 enter. 
 
evange:unk. 151 
 
 Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, de- 
 serted and silent, ^^-^ 
 
 Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the 
 almshouse. 
 
 Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in 
 the garden, 
 
 And she paused on her way to gather the fairest 
 among them. 
 
 That the dying once more might rejoice in their fra- 
 grance and beauty. 
 
 Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, 
 cooled by the east wind, ^^^^ 
 
 Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the 
 belfry of Christ Church, 
 
 While, intermingled with these, across the meadows 
 were wafted 
 
 Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in 
 their church at Wicaco. 
 
 Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on 
 her spirit; 
 
 Something within her said, "At length thy trials are 
 ended;" '''' 
 
 And, with light in her looks, she entered the cham- 
 bers of sickness. 
 
 Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attend- 
 ants, 
 
 Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and 
 in silence 
 
 Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing 
 their faces, 
 
 Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow 
 by the roadside. ^ '^^" 
 
 Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, 
 
152 KVANGKLIN^. 
 
 Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, 
 
 for her presence 
 Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls 
 
 of a prison. 
 And, as she looked around, she saw how Death the 
 
 consoler, 
 Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it 
 
 forever. ^'^'^^ 
 
 Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night 
 
 time ; 
 Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. 
 
 Suddenly, as if arrested, by fear or a feeling of 
 
 wonder. 
 Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a 
 
 shudder 
 Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets 
 
 dropped from her fingers, ^^^'' 
 
 And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom 
 
 of the morning. 
 Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terri- 
 ble anguish. 
 That the dying heard it, and started up from their 
 
 pillows. 
 On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an 
 
 old man. 
 Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded 
 
 his temples; ^^''^ 
 
 But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a 
 
 moment 
 Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier 
 
 manhood : 
 
EVANGKLINK. 153 
 
 So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are 
 
 dying. 
 Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the 
 
 fever, 
 As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had be- 
 sprinkled its portals, ^-^''^ 
 That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and 
 
 pass over. 
 Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit 
 
 exhausted 
 Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in 
 
 the darkness, 
 Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and 
 
 sinking. 
 Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied 
 
 reverberations, ^^^^ 
 
 Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that 
 
 succeeded 
 Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint- 
 like, 
 "Gabriel! O my beloved!" and died away into silence. 
 Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of 
 
 his childhood; 
 Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among 
 
 them, '-''^ 
 
 Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking 
 
 under their shadow. 
 As in the days of her youth^ Evangeline rose in his 
 
 vision. 
 Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his 
 
 eyelids, 
 Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by 
 
 his bedside. 
 
154 KVANGKLINK. 
 
 Vainly lie strove to whisper lier name, for the accents 
 
 unuttered ^^^^ 
 
 Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his 
 
 tongue would have spoken. 
 Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling 
 
 beside him, 
 Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. 
 Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank 
 
 into darkness, 
 As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a 
 
 casement. ^^^^ 
 
 All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the 
 
 sorrow. 
 All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied 
 
 longing, 
 All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of 
 
 patience! 
 And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her 
 
 bosom. 
 Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, "Father, 
 
 I thank thee!" '''' 
 
 Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from 
 its shadow. 
 
 Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are 
 sleeping. 
 
 Under the humble walls of the little Catholic church- 
 yard. 
 
 In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and un- 
 noticed. 
 
 Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside 
 them, '''' 
 
KVANGELINE. 155 
 
 Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at 
 
 rest and forever, 
 Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer 
 
 are busy, 
 Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased 
 
 from their labors. 
 Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed 
 
 their journey! 
 
 Still stands the forest primeval; but under the 
 shade of its branches ^'^'-'^ 
 
 Dwells another race, with other customs and 
 language. 
 
 Only along the shore of the mournful and misty 
 Atlantic 
 
 Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from 
 exile 
 
 Wandered back to their native land to die in its 
 bosom. 
 
 In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are 
 still busy; ''^' 
 
 Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their 
 kirtles of homespun, 
 
 And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story, 
 
 While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neigh- 
 boring ocean 
 
 Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail 
 of the forest. 
 
The Plan Books. 
 
 FOR PRIHARY AND INTERMEDIATE GRADES. 
 
 Ten Guides or Sets of Plans. One for each month 
 in the school year. Nothing to compare with them 
 ever issued. A f avorite with progressive teachers 
 in all parts of the country. 
 
 Your Work -^^ school work can be well done that is not 
 
 Miicf hk(^ PlatiMPkrl well planned. What to plan and how to plan 
 iTIUSL DC r^ianneQ are problems every teacher is now working out. 
 What material to use for the different seasons of the year and where to 
 find this material, are questions all are asking. How to correlate these les- 
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 the best advantage when found, all wish to know. 
 
 The Purpose of They aim, as far as possible, to supply tl , 
 
 fhp» Pl^n RnnLrc teacher's needs in this direction; to assist the 
 nic i-idii I3UU1V& teacher in making out her daily plans; to show 
 how school work may be correlated; to enable her, from its references, to 
 turn at once to the needed book' for the appropriate song or story to be used 
 in connection with the day's lessons; to provide seat work which will be of 
 educational value, and to save money spent by the teacher in the purchase 
 of many books for the sake of a very little which may be used in school work. 
 
 The Pi,AN Book has been issued in ten numbers or volumes, one for 
 each month of the school year, bringing to hand the material for each day's 
 lessons and plans. 
 
 nri-p Conf pnt<5 consists of science or nature lessons, blacks* 
 
 I lie v/Un ten LS> board reading lessons, drawing lessons, seat 
 
 work, related songs, poems, stories and gems for literature work, 
 sketches of authors, studies of children of other lands, and programmes 
 for special days or national holidays. 
 
 Bach number has 112 large pages, and is the best, most practical mat- 
 ter to be had for the money. Issues such as December and February 
 have several half-tone engravings. Bach issue has many good pictures and 
 special songs. 
 
 PRICE FOR ANY MONTH, 25 CENTS. 
 THE 10 MONTHS, SEPTEMBER TO JUNE, INCLUSIVE, $2.00. 
 
 Hr^t^^A \/^^it**^^cy AUTUMN— September, October, November, 
 tSOUna volumes 335 pages, flexible cloth, 11.00. WINTER— 
 
 December, January, February, 336 pages, |1.00. SPRING— March, April, 
 May, June, 448 pages, $1.00. The three volumes for |2.50. Total set con- 
 tains 1,120 pages. 
 
 Send for a copy and you will want all of them. 
 
 Chicago, January 10, 1898. Marshall, Mich. 
 
 My Dear Sir.—l have received the Janu- Our teachers are enthusiastic in praise of 
 
 aary Plan Book. It is in keeping with the Plan Books. Quite a number have a 
 
 the others. I most cordially approve of it, full set, and the general expression is, "The 
 
 and shall take the first opportunity to best thing out." You deserve the thanks 
 
 recommend it to my teachers. I may say not only of the-primary teachers but of all 
 
 also it is the first thing of the kind I have teachers, for publishing these books, 
 
 ever seen vphich I can fully approve. Yours E). F. I,ohr, 
 
 very truly, Orville T. Bright, Supt. of Scliools. 
 Co. Supt, Cook Co., 111. 
 
 A. FLANAGAN, . . 267 WABASH AVENUE, CHICAGO, iLI.. 
 
The Story of Lafayette, 
 
 FOR INTERMEDIATE GRADES. 
 
 f\t$t l)l$tOry T/ie first real attempt to give the history of this remarkable 
 man and his achievements in story form, suited to the taste and ability of 
 pupils of the third and fourth grades. 
 
 Cl)^ JllttbOr 9 The author is a teacher of wide experience, thorough schol- 
 CCdCbCf arship and literary ability, who has brought all these ele- 
 
 ments to bear in the writing of the most successful biographical story yet 
 published. 
 
 TntCKSt lit The wide-spread interest in Lafayette at this time taken in 
 
 £(lfayCttC connection with the intense patriotic feeling recently awak- 
 
 ened, will give wise direction to much of that feeling, and make plain to 
 the youth the awful price of our liberties, as well as show them how much 
 men of high motives, noble character and pure patriotism have contributed 
 and still contribute toward the principles of liberty. 
 
 CrUtMUl and The author has told a truthful story in a charming way, 
 Cbafintnd story embodying the fruit of extensive reading and research in a 
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 CafayCttC tbC in fact, lyafayette the man, Ivafayette the warrior, are the 
 |)^fO same as Lafayette, the heroic and chivalric friend of the 
 
 peerless Washington. The story is timely, interesting, Anspiring, w^ll-told 
 and well adapted to use as a supplementary reader or library book. 
 
 Poems Of l$24, It contains the poems spoken by the children of New York, 
 CCttCrS, etc. Massachusetts and Connecticut in 1824, when Lafayette re- 
 
 visited America, besides extracts from many original documents, such as 
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 saver to the teacher and pupil. All this material is so deftly woven into 
 the story as to make the past seem present. 
 
 educational The educational value of this remarkable book is beyond 
 
 llalUC computation, and it will do much to make many American 
 
 Lafayettes who will fight the great battles for human liberty in the twen- 
 tieth century. 
 
 Price: Paper, 112 pp., 20c.; Cloth, 30c. 
 
 ^. rL./\N/\G/\IN, - - GniCAGO 
 

 
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