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 ''°''''' A REVIEW 
 
 r^, 
 
 /'\ A '^ j OF THE PEOPLE OP 
 
 "EVANGELINE," 
 
 WITH 
 
 Historical Sketches 
 
 OF THE 
 
 pkese:n^t and futuee 
 
 BY 
 
 MDE. MOREL DE LA DURANTAYE. 
 
 DETROIT: 
 
 18SI2. 
 
 In exchajig^ 
 MAR 2 9 1918 
 
nst 
 
 tf) A/-/f^^ 
 
2i intbntgl]t poem. 
 
 While writfug at midnight with four in the room, 
 
 My brain, as the morning dawned, weighing 
 With thoughts of the little ones now left alone. 
 
 And their grief my mind was portraying— 
 Bereft tonight of their kind father, 
 
 Sorrow comes to young and old — 
 I was thinking of the daylight 
 
 And the news which must be told, 
 When with daylight they'd awaken 
 
 And with one accord all rush 
 For the first fond kiss from papa, 
 
 And I — how sad — their hearts must crush! 
 
 Yes, to his eternal rest he is gone forever. 
 
 From the ones who loved him well. 
 Who will forget him never— 
 
 Shall we ever meet again ? 
 Yes, the splendor will be greater, 
 
 For when we meet 'twill be above, 
 And there see our Creator! 
 
 We can no longer watch and mourn 
 For him— the loved one. 
 
 Whose life on earth to us was but a charm. 
 We can but hope that his soul will be 
 
 As welcome in heaven 
 As the parting was sad for me. 
 
 When we four will have passed away 
 Will some one remember us, 
 
 Aud will the remembrance be as sad 
 As the one who has gone today? 
 
 Will we be remembered 
 By friends once near and dear ; 
 
 Or will we be forgotten. 
 As though we never had been here? 
 
48 
 
 3Iemory, sad memory, 
 With aching hearts so sore, 
 
 Comes sorrowing and sorrowing 
 Alike to rich and poor; 
 
 Though his image I will always keep. 
 Defy years to efface ; 
 
 "Twill keep my pathway clear and bright 
 And in heaven 1 may also find 
 
 The trne and only light. 
 
50 
 
 ACADIAN YEOMAN. 
 
49 
 
 AMERICAN INDIAN 
 
Tt?^ A^^fli^^s. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 (D 
 
 F THE many who have read Longfellow's Evangeline 
 with unbounded delight, how few there are who 
 know that the plaintive, poetic story of Acadia is 
 but a picture of a real people, illustrating their simple mode 
 of life and their multiple misfortunes Yet our Nova 
 Scotia once bore that romantic name, and her people were 
 the Acadians of history, romance and song. 
 
 The story carries us back to the long ago, when from 
 the frozen sea to the tropical gulf, this vast country was a 
 nearly unknown wilderness, its monotony being undisturbed 
 save by a few English colonies on the Atlantic shore of 
 what is now the United States, and like settlements by 
 French in Canada, each claiming by assumed right that 
 which belonged to neither, and each fiercely jealous of the 
 acquirements of the other. 
 
 Thus the two most powerful nations of Europe sought 
 extension of dominion and addition of wealth, while colo- 
 nists, from various quarters and all classes, endeavored to 
 improve their condition by casting their fortunes in the 
 wilds of the " new world." 
 
 The experience of all these early pioneers was usually 
 pitiful in the extreme, if not infrequently happening that 
 they fall victims to cold, starvation and disease, to the 
 hostility of neighboring adventurers, or to the tomahawk 
 of the savage, to be finally either entirely destroyed or as a 
 tattered remnant return to their old-time homes. 
 
Among those who so early as 1604 cast their lot in the 
 western wilderness was a body of French People from 
 Normandy, who chanced to fix their new homes in Acadia, 
 the peninsula now known as Nova Scotia. This effort 
 proved a failure, especially because of the inroads of 
 settlers from the English colonies of Virginia, who claimed 
 the peninsula by right of discovery, and w^hose people, led 
 by a freebooter, in the end utterly destroyed the colony. 
 
 The French government had given the rugged realm 
 its tropical name, but in the turmoil of the nations, the 
 English gained possession, and in 1621, with greater fitness, 
 pronounced it to be Nova Scotia, or new Scotland. But 
 neither tropical nor frigid designation brought settled 
 quietude to its borders. It became the shuttlelock of war 
 and diplomacy. In due time the French became its master, 
 to be overcome by their persistent enemy in 1654, Thirteen 
 years later the French were in power, fickle fortune return- 
 ing to the English in 1714. Thus, experience had shown 
 little certainty of tenure, and that the imperious English- 
 men so deemed it is amply shown in the fact that the treaty 
 by which it was secured to them contained the galling 
 proviso that their new subjects, the Acadians, or French 
 citizens of Nova Scotia, might enjoy freedom of worship, 
 they being Catholics, while the English government was 
 intensely Protestant, and still more, they were granted 
 immunity from bearing arms, being thus permitted to enjoy 
 the benefits of a government, and be in it protected, with- 
 out raising a hand even in their own defense. This 
 unprecedented favor may have partly risen from the fact 
 that joining the English forces they would be brought face 
 to face with her liereditar}' foe, and thus be compelled to do 
 battle against personal friends and relatives; but, odious as 
 this tacit citizenship must have been to the haughty 
 English government it must be stated in justice to it that 
 the treaty pledge was faithfully kept. 
 
 It seemed passing strange that the well-known vicissi- 
 tudes and turmoil did not make a bar to immigration. But 
 it did not do so. During each period in which France held 
 
5 
 
 the land, her people, with consummate pertinacity, sought 
 homes in Acadia; the English, with equal blindness, hurry- 
 ing to their New Scotland during the time of their 
 possession. 
 
 This seems all the more wonderful when the fact is 
 recalled that the varied changes in mastery so briefly noted 
 were always the results of harassing and bloody struggles, 
 participated in by both French and English regular troops, 
 the militia or citizen soldier of both sides, in every case 
 each party being aided by the bloodthirsty savages, who 
 spared neither age or sex, and in whose hands immediate 
 death was usually a desired blessing. The cheek altern- 
 ately pales with anger and blushes with shame, as we 
 review the true history of the part taken by either party in 
 these fierce contests for empire, contests that excited the 
 deepest concern in the great capitals and courts of Europe 
 three thousand miles away. 
 
 The Acadian people not only brought with them the 
 habits of the Norman peasant, but adhered to their peculi- 
 arities with unyielding tenacity. In consequence of this, 
 they became noted for simplicity of habits, for patient and 
 persistent toil from which followed remarkable thrift; for 
 devotion to the religion of their fathers, adherent attach- 
 ment to their fatherland and an unlimited devotion to their 
 new homes. Totally void of those ambitious aims that fire 
 the hearts of other people, they sought nothing beyond 
 their little land possessions, and luxuriant in the comforts 
 found in their unostentatious habitations. Every impulse 
 of their hearts centered there, no toil was too severe, if it 
 but tended to increase their stock and store. The soil of 
 the low grounds being most fertile, they built dikes, by 
 which the waters were forced back, thus converting marshes 
 into reclaimed fields where the cereals grew in abundance, 
 while thousands of every variety of cattle grazed on the 
 adjacent plains, indulging in none of the vanities that 
 corrode and impoverish more pretentious communities, '' 
 frugality reigned everywhere supreme. Without education, ) 
 and reljing on the "cure" for instruction and guidance in 
 
6 
 
 all essential things, they kept aloof from others, desiring 
 most to be by the boisterous world forgotton. Absence of 
 ambitious aims circumscribed their wants and rendered 
 possible the existence of such a typical band of brothers, 
 asking only to be permitted to enjoy their toil, their content- 
 ment, neighbors and religion. 
 
 It would seem that these meager favors were their due 
 and should have been accorded them, but instead they were 
 the shuttlelocks of the grim contestants for power and 
 empire. Long, weary years of contention with repeated 
 change of ruling powers had at last brought the treaty of 
 1713 before referred to, apparently bringing with it the long 
 desired repose. 
 
 Under the English regime, in accordance with the terms 
 of this compact, nearly half a century had passed, the 
 Acadians being nominally English subjects, but clinging 
 with the keenest ardor to old memories, bound in every 
 heart sympathy to those who spoke their native tongue, and 
 who in every way were to them most near and agreeable. 
 In every sense their rulers were to them foreign, the name 
 engrafted on their land cold and cheerless, their dreams 
 revels in Acadia. 
 
 Thus the embers of unrest were ever warm in their 
 bosoms, and calm and well disposed as they were, required 
 but little effort to fan it to a brighter glow. To the interior 
 Canadian colonies, conditions were ever present promoting 
 to active effort. Nova Scotia, now an English province, 
 occupied a position on their eastern borders that largely 
 interfered with their access to the ocean, which was not only 
 the highway of trade, but the only one through which they 
 could maintain connection with France. Fierce tribes of 
 Indians, ardently attached to the interests of the Canadian 
 colonies, occupied adjacent lands, and secret emissaries were 
 ever busy fomenting acrimonies in the hearts of both the 
 gentle-souled Acadians and their neighbors, the brutal 
 savages. 
 
 To the English, the accorded neutral citizenship was 
 extremely distasteful, and when to this was added the 
 
unrest wrought by the emissaries of France, it became 
 odious. They were further both vexed and alarmed by the 
 erection of a French fort immediately over the line. This 
 was situated at Beausejours and adjacent to the district of 
 Mines, on a narrow isthmus connecting Nova Scotia with 
 the mainland of Canada, and seemed significant, as the 
 Basin of Mines was the most populous and wealthiest of 
 the Acadian settlements. Whatever the real purpose may 
 have been, the fort and its occupancy by the French troops 
 was a perpetual menace to the rulers of the province. 
 
 The tempest was slowly but surely gathering. But 
 through all the perplexing situations the Acadian people 
 kept as much aloof from participation as was possible for 
 them to do. Their purpose and intent was to remain true 
 to their obligations as neutrals, but being flesh and blood, 
 and the continued prey of those who by secret persuasion 
 and every possible device sought to lead them to some 
 measure that would result to the advantage of the Canadian 
 provinces, and through this means to the government of 
 France, what could be expected as the result? With all 
 this they so greatly preferred to till the soil, tend their 
 herds, and live in quietude, that with far fewer exceptions 
 than could be expected they persisted in pursuing their 
 pastoral career. 
 
 At last the tempest had gathered its forces; a cloud of 
 ill-omen overcast the sky. The drama of turmoil, of battle, 
 of unrest and unchanging rulers, was about to terminate in 
 tragedy. The innocents were again to suffer; the only ones 
 that could be by any means accounted guiltless, were to be 
 made the victims of an act that thrills every sensibility of, 
 the human heart. 
 
 The American colonies were in fact a part of England 
 and represented her interests, in precisely the same sense 
 that the Canadian colonies represented their home govern- 
 ment. 
 
 Through the instrumentality of the former, an expedi- 
 tion was fitted out in 1755 to reduce the fort at Beausejours, 
 
 1 
 
the ultimate object being to destroy Freiich influence in 
 Nova Scotia, thus making it practically and really an 
 English province like themselves. The fleet sailed from 
 Boston harbor, and on arrival near their destination was 
 joined by a force of British regulars under Col. Moncton 
 who took command of the whole. The negotiations with 
 the English government and preparation of the expedition 
 had been conducted with so much care that the occupants 
 of the fortress were surprised at the appearance of the 
 enemy. Their consternation quickly extended to the 
 Acadians, who, with instinctive French predilections, 
 required only a threat from the commandant of the French 
 forces to lead juany to cast their fortunes with them. Not 
 knowing what was really involved, believing their all to be 
 in peril at the hands of practical freebooters, they accepted 
 the only apparent chance for self preservation. Rendered 
 desperate by the gloomy outlook, some three hundred 
 joined the troops in the fort, while many, being undecided 
 to the last moment what was best to do, finally hid their 
 families in the woods and fought the invader from any 
 cover they could find. Heroic but mistaken purpose; idle 
 effort; the hand of fate was upon them; they struggled 
 against destiny! 
 
 The fort surrendered after feeble resistance, and the 
 misguided Acadians were at the mercy of the English, who^ 
 having granted them neutrality, now found them traitors. 
 
 With mock generosity they were pardoned this grave 
 offense, but there awaited them a doom no less grievous. 
 It is this doom that every sentiment of humanity and com- 
 mon decency revolts, stamping the perpetrators as men, 7 
 worthy the brand of Cain. No claim of precedent, no plea I 
 of national policy, can be made to hide the infamy of that 
 which the hearts of all good men revolt. Precedent does 
 not palliate wanton torture, physical or mental, more than it 
 excuses the savage for burning his victim at the stake. 
 The course pursued had not even the manly quality of fair, 1 
 open dealing, but consisted in a series of schemes, in every 
 one on which a trap was secreted, to the end that turn which 
 
9 
 
 ALONE IN THE WOODS'. 
 
10 
 
 way they might, the intended victims must come at last to 
 the same condition. Ihe purpose was perfectly hidden 
 until the fatal line was passed. 
 
 Having been forgiven for joining hands with the enemy 
 in the recent contest at the fort of Beau sej ours, their 
 hearts were sufficiently softened by the unexpected clem- 
 ency, to respond promptly through their representative 
 that they were willing to take the oath of allegiance to the 
 British crown, a summons having been issued to them to 
 determine the matter as to their willingness. These repre- 
 sentatives were, however, astounded when informed that 
 the old time treaty proviso, granting them immunity from 
 bearing arms and especial religious privileges, could no 
 longer be tolerated and would not be permitted. The oath 
 must now be taken in full, without proviso or reservation, 
 as an evidence of complete abandonment of any former 
 allegiance. This measure was wholly unexpected, and to 
 them, shocking to the last degree. The agents could not 
 at once answer for their constituency, in fact, could do no 
 less than go back to them for instruction in a matter so 
 vital to their interests. When they returned for further 
 consultation, the trap set at that point was sprung; it was 
 pronounced too late. Accepting the delay as an evidence 
 of unwillingness and insincerity, the oath could not now be 
 taken at all or in any form, and their suppliants were the 
 government's outcasts. Thus step by step the cords were 
 being drawn closer, there being from the beginning no 
 intended method of escape. 
 
 Wandering blindly in a desert of doubt, the peasants 
 went on with their harvest labor, without a dream of calam- 
 ity greater than had so often befallen them, that with it 
 they were familiar, as with the face of an old time friend. 
 It was just as well, as neither negligence or diligence could 
 change their predetermined doom. 
 
 The further development and execution of the diabolical 
 plot required great care and secrecy, from fear of a revolt, 
 to quell which would result in slaughter in addition to in- 
 famy. Only such delay occurred as was unavoidable. While 
 
11 
 
 the husbandmen were occupied at their labors, the com- 
 manding officers were busy perfecting every detail, and 
 issuing the orders of the " Provincial Governor," who 
 represented the British Crown, to his military subordinates, 
 detailing their duty at each of the several French or 
 Acadian settlements. Of these there were several, each 
 one a little world within itself. 
 
 These officers, with requisite troops, repairing to the 
 station assigned them, in conformity with their instructions, 
 each issued an order directing, under penalty, that " all old 
 men, young men and lads of ten years of age," should meet 
 at a place designated, on September 5th, 1755, to hear a 
 command of the Governor of the province. 
 
 On its face this notice was entirely innocent ; and in 
 some places was fully and in others not wholly complied 
 with. Possibly some might have noticed that on that morn- 
 ing extraordinary military precautions had been very 
 quietly taken, the strictest discipline observ^ed, and the 
 troops supplied with powder and ball. There could have 
 been nothing beyond a suspicion, as the dread secret was 
 unknown, save to a few trust}^ officers who were sworn to 
 absolute silence and secrecy. 
 
 Grand Pre was a populous and thrifty village, sur- 
 rounded by charming farms, with fields well tilled and barns 
 overflowing from the recent harvest. A description of 
 what transpired there will suffice for all, as the type was 
 the same, and like agonies wrought everywhere. Col. 
 Winslow, of Massachusetts, was assigned to duty in that 
 district, and to the credit of his heart be it said, shrank 
 from its performance with expressed disgust for being made 
 the instrument of unwonted cruelty, but imperative orders 
 forced him to obedience. 
 
 In compliance with official notice, " the old men, young 
 men and boys of ten years " gathered in the village church 
 at the appointed time. Few failed to obey the mandate, as 
 suspicion was disarmed among them, and the orders of the 
 Governor were of vital importance. Seated in their places 
 
12 
 
 in respectful and painful expectation, they did not notice 
 that the soldiers were quietly surrounding the build- 
 ing. 
 
 This done, the ranking officer in full uniform, repre- 
 senting his imperial majesty of Great Britain, after some 
 preliminaries, read the fatal orders, which were nothing- 
 less than their property was all confiscated to the Crown, 
 that all were to be removed from the province, leaving 
 behind everything save such personal effects as could 
 conveniently be carried with them, and that after the 
 moment of reading, that they were prisoners, and with their 
 families doomed to perpetual exile. The axe had fallen at 
 Grand Pre, but not with like success at some of the settle- 
 ments, especially that of Beau Basin and Annapolis, where 
 suspicions had by some means been aroused, and only a 
 portion reported as ordered. The recusants fleeing from 
 the horror they faintly imagined, hid with their families in 
 the woods, hoping against faith for something better than 
 their fears had painted. 
 
 This awful communication, coming like a thunderbolt, 
 so appalled the prisoners that they doubted what they heard, 
 but all became too plain for doubt when they saw the stern 
 sentry at the doors and beyond them the guard under arms. 
 Then their strong hearts bowed under the weight of 
 wretchedness. Instantly passed before them as in a pano- 
 rama their homes, their families, and every sacred, associated 
 tie suddenly wrenched from them; their fertile fields and 
 well-filled barns, their herds grazing on the plains, to them 
 blotted out forever. Anguish rent every heart; they were 
 worse than free outcasts on the face of the earth. 
 
 • 
 
 Their families knew nothing of what had transpired, 
 until the expected did not return, when inquiry caught the 
 rumor, and, like the hot and suffocating simoom,the revolting 
 fact spread abroad. Then arose shrieks of agony and 
 lamentation in every home. In frenzy women and children 
 rushed along the streets, wringing their hands in despair. 
 It was the wailing of helpless women for absent loved 
 
18 
 
 ones and for crushed hopes in every form — everything near 
 and dear had been gathered by the hand of death, and amid 
 desolation lay coflSned before them. 
 
 The picture with all its ghastly seeming was all too 
 real, for means of escape there were none. Lamentations 
 were powerless for relief, shrieks of agony could be 
 answered only by kindred shrieks, while mothers pressed 
 to their breasts babes that, like themselves, were pinioned 
 to the wheel. 
 
 The early imprisonment may be regarded in the light 
 of a precaution to prevent disorder, which, through some 
 mischance, might have resulted from delay and arousing of 
 suspicion. At least it was otherwise premature, as there 
 were not at command a sufficient number of vessels to 
 transport the members of the colony, which necesitated 
 painful delay. Near the shore at Grand Pre lay five vessels, 
 on which it was decided to place the prisoners as a means 
 of security. The 10th of September was fixed upon as the 
 day on which the male captives would be placed on board 
 to be there guarded while awaiting sufficient transportation. 
 
 Five long, weary days passed by, doubt and hope alter- 
 nating in the breasts of the imprisoned, and their families 
 still in their homes. Would the captors carry away fathers, 
 husbands, sons and brothers? Limited numbers under 
 careful guards had each day been allowed to visit their 
 families; would this blessed favor be taken away? were 
 questions continually asked and ever answered by a hopeless 
 moan. 
 
 Each circling sun sternly reduced the hours of stay, 
 and when on the designated morn its light set all their 
 beautiful land in glory before them, the drums were 
 resounding in the village streets. At eight o'clock the 
 church bell tolled into the desolate hearts that the fatal 
 hour had come. 
 
 The melancholy column was formed and two hundred 
 and sixty young men, in the advance, ordered to march on 
 ship-board. The pride and strength of their manly hearts 
 forbade obedience. They asked only for their families in 
 
14 
 
 company. With them they could bow to the yoke, but to 
 leave them they would not. This could not be, and while 
 drums resounded the soldier}^ advanced with fixed 
 bayonets. Appeals were vain, to resist with empty hands 
 utterly hopeless. A few were wounded, when in despair 
 the march began. 
 
 From the church to the shore the way was lined with 
 women and children, mothers, wives, babes, those who tot- 
 tered from age, and those whose cheeks were pallid with 
 the touch of death. Neither pen nor pencil can picture a 
 heart agony, nor can they portray the fierce sorrows of those 
 who knelt by the way, greeting the prisoners with blessings, 
 tears and lamentations, as they bade, as they yet fully 
 believed, a final adieu. Trembling hand clasped hand that 
 trembled, fathers for a moment only pressed their lips to 
 those of wife and child as they moved on under the eyes of 
 the stern guards, who dared not even, if they wished, brook 
 the least delay. Thus all moved quickly along the melan- 
 choly path until none were left but those who mourned, 
 and when from the vessel decks the imprisoned looked 
 ashore, there stood their loved ones gazing through blind- 
 ing tears to catch even a faint glimpse of those so cruelly 
 wrenched from them. Rivited to the spot, the desolate 
 women and children wrung their hands and wept until 
 " tired nature " and the gloom of nightfall forced them to 
 seek protection in their homes. 
 
 One. act in this infamous drama had been completed, an 
 act that brought shame into the English hearts who under 
 orders were compelled to its execution. 
 
 There is a form of mercy in the ending of torture, but 
 even this trifling boon was not for the unfortunate Acadians, 
 for through long weeks of waiting for additional transports 
 and supplies they lay in full view of their lost treasures. 
 
 Horrified beyond measure, utterly powerless, incapable 
 of thinking this cold inhumanity could be more than tempor- 
 ary, the women felt that the persecutors must relent; that 
 the iron heart would soften, the relentless hand loose its 
 hold and the imprisoned be returned to them. Soothed with 
 
15 
 
 FIllST CHURCH OF ANNAPOLIS. 
 
16 
 
 this " forlorn hope," they turned their attention to their 
 varied duties, each day, by permission, carrying food from 
 their tables to those on board the ships. 
 
 But the end was not yet. The event of September 10th 
 was that of separation ; that which was to follow was one of 
 union, but not at the family fireside. 
 
 Again the drums beat, troops paraded under arms, and 
 divided into squads, proceeded to the performance of the 
 last act of the cruel tragedy. The labor of the housewife, 
 the play of Acadian children in Acadia, was ended. For 
 the last time had been heard their lullaby, for the last time 
 the prattle of their babes. The order was imperative, the 
 fatal hour of embarkment had arrived; mothers, wives and 
 children must now join their imprisoned friends, not 
 definitely as families, but as chance might determine. 
 With this awful reality, the last hope was crushed and 
 horror thrilled every heart. In bewildering grief and 
 terror, almost unconscious of what they did, some prized 
 treasures were gathered together. Still reluctant to go, the 
 soldiery were compelled to force their departure, and amid 
 tears hot with agony, mothers carried their children, friends 
 bore the aged and infirm in melancholy procession to the 
 boats that were to bear them to the vessels awaiting them 
 near the shore. At each of the villages the same blood- 
 chilling scenes were enacted, and then fire swept away 
 homes, churches and harvests before their eyes. Flames 
 burst through windows, crept over roofs; houses and barns 
 melted like wax, while each stack of grain became a huge 
 cone of smoke, streaked with fire, until nothing remained 
 but a cloud that hung like a pall above the cinders that 
 smouldered beneath. The exiles could only gaze, wring 
 their powerless hands and weep. 
 
 In every locality the efEort at capture had been well 
 planned, and was executed thoroughly, both at the time of 
 reading the order and afterward ; the search for those who 
 failed to come being pushed with earnest diligence. Still 
 there were some who, with their families, escaped to the 
 woods. In the utmost fright and destitution they hid as best 
 
17 
 
 they could to bide the developments of time. No oppor- 
 tunity for counter effort was discovered by them save at 
 Chipody, where, from their hiding places, they saw the 
 flames bursting simultaneously from their houses, barns 
 and churches. Instantly their blood became heated beyond 
 endurance. Guided by anger and thirsting for revenge, 
 they hastily hid their wives and children more securely, 
 and few as they were, threw themselves unexpectedly on 
 the enemy, who, broken by the furious attack, hastened to 
 their ships, leaving forty-five dead and wounded on the 
 field. 
 
 Whichever way they turned, the fate of these fugitives 
 could be nothing less than deplorable to the utmost extreme. 
 Their English persecutors were unrelenting and sought 
 them ought in the most unfrequented places. Those that, 
 by dint of watchfulness, suffering and dubious good fortune, 
 escaped, either hid in rocky caverns, fens or marshes, sub- 
 sisting by fishing and kindred methods, or joined their 
 comrades who had united with the French before the battle 
 at the fort, and shared with them their flinty destiny. 
 Others found refuge in the wigwams of their savage friends 
 or wandered to adjacent islands within the French borders, 
 all hovering near their lost treasures. Detached groups 
 found their way into the interior of the Canadian settle- 
 ment, to receive such care as is meted out to the impover- 
 ished and disconsolate. Through some chance, a group of 
 these people fixed their habitation on the Madawaska, 
 where, having passed through indescribable privations, 
 they gradually developed comforts, which, in time, ripened 
 into prosperity and happiness, and there, at this day, may be 
 found an untarnished type of the Acadian people. 
 
 Little bands found resting places within the provincial 
 borders, at points remote from English settlements, their 
 security consisting in their poverty and the unfrequented 
 locality of their homes. 
 
 In 1763, the iron grip of the British hand slightly 
 yielded its grasp, permission being then granted to the 
 expatriated to return and establish themselves in Digby 
 
18 
 
 Count}'", Township Clare, a rough and jagged place on the 
 southwest shore of St. Mary's Baj^, remote from all habita- 
 tion and accessible onl}' from the sea through a narrow and 
 rockbound inlet. A few^ promptly availed themselves of 
 this meagre indulgence. Long deprivation and suffering 
 seemed to have softened their memory of wrongs, and lent 
 energy to their efforts. Labor for themselves had in it such 
 pleasurable qualitj^, that soon the rough lands were made 
 to yield their treasures, which with ample facilities for fish- 
 ing, enabled them to secure life's necessaries, now to them 
 the sweetest luxuries. 
 
 This experience is sufficiently heartrendering, but is, if 
 possible, surpassed by those who, as the transports glided 
 down the bay, gazed their last on their native lands as the 
 flames shot upwards through the dense clouds of smoke. 
 No fleet had ever borne on its decks such burthen of heart- ^ 
 breakings, decks that were moistened with torrents of tears. ' 
 No desolation can be more dreary than the transition from / 
 home to homelessness ; from loved land to one which at / 
 best had no allurements, that could only be a place for wan- 
 dering and servitude; from the cheers of the family fireside / 
 to a bleak and dreary desert. 
 
 But grief will often exhaust itself and yield at last to 
 passion, or, mingled together, they find expression by turns. 
 Thus it was on one of these vessels, resulting in mutiny, 
 overpowering the guards and running it ashore near St. 
 John's River, the escaped prisoners finding refuge in 
 friendly wigwams. 
 
 The fleet sped on its way, each vessel consigned by 
 orders to certain of the colonies along the Atlantic coast, 
 w^here their living freight was heartlessly set on shore, 
 among those whose language was not understood, and each 
 to the other odious by long hostility, and where the faith of 
 each was deemed by the other a heresy, a wicked and 
 unclean thing. 
 
 Imagination alone can follow their devious fortunes, as 
 history has not preserved its details, more than at the hands 
 of those so intensely disliked, they secured greater favors 
 
19 
 
 and more real kindness than did the refugees at the hands 
 of their Canadian friends. But it was not possible to com- 
 fort them. Wherever they might find refuge among the 
 colonists, unhappiness was still their portion. If they had 
 few wants, they were keenly felt, and could not be yielded; 
 every tradition being a saered thing to which their very 
 souls were attached as by hooks of steel. Their unrest 
 consequently, never appeased, necessarily separated, they 
 soon scattered far and wide, in well nigh aimless purpose, 
 some in after years working their way back to Digby and 
 Madawaska. Others were sent from Virginia to England, 
 or found refuge in the Norman land of their forefathers. 
 
 No legend tells us how or when a portion of these 
 strangely unfortunate people reached Louisiana. The 
 long stretch of inhospitable wilderness forbade a journey 
 thither by land, but it may be readily surmised that some 
 kindhearted captain took them by sea to the then far-away 
 colony, where they could once more hear in speech the 
 music of their native tongue. 
 
 Fancy will paint how memory of the harsh and forbid- 
 ding clime they left behind, together with their suffering 
 and poverty, must have vanished from their minds as they 
 slowly wended their way out of the tropical gulf into 
 beautiful Berwick Bay, and thence into Bayou Teche (Bio 
 Tesh) extending northward two hundred miles, to receive 
 the silent flowing Atchafalaya (A-shafala). We dwell with 
 them on the scene. There is not a ripple on the sleeping 
 Bayou, a deep waterway from two to three hundred feet 
 wide, that, like a ribbon of silver, stretches far, far away ; 
 on the eastern shore standing then, as now, an unbroken 
 forest of Cottonwood and cypress, their lofty branches 
 interlacing, all draped and festooned with Spanish moss, as 
 if in sorrow that the waters into which their shadows fell 
 must pass away to return no more. On the western shore 
 their eyes were greeted with charming undulations, where 
 the live oak spread its branches, and the palmetto rose with 
 pretentious dignity; where roses, magnolias, jessamine, 
 camelias and oleanders of spontaneous growth, loaded the 
 
20 
 
 air with intoxicating perfume, seeming to offer a paradise 
 where the rudest must long to linger and from which the 
 blest could scarce wish to wander. Far up the stream, on 
 the billowy lands the exiles established a colony, in which 
 the gentle-souled Evangeline sought her lost lover ; where 
 the habits of their ancestors becoming firmly rooted, are 
 still untarnished ; where the spinning wheel and loom are 
 heard in the cabin home ; where girls wear the Norman 
 bonnet and petticoat ; where the village cure is their guide 
 and master, and church bells call to that form of devotion 
 from which they have never swerved. 
 
 The shameless work was done; the expatriation made as 
 complete as it was' possible to do, by resort to the most 
 frigid heartlessness and rugged violence. Nine thousand 
 persons had been made impoverished wanderers on the face 
 of the earth, and their vast wealth at the same time given 
 to the winds and the flames. 
 
 Families had necessarily been separated, never to be 
 reunited, save by such chance accident as could rarely 
 occur. Fancy alone can picture the joy of such unexpected 
 meeting, and none could be more touching than the story of 
 the lovers kindly handed down to us by authentic 
 history. 
 
 They were to have wed on the very day on which the 
 male inhabitants of Grand Pre were made prisoners. On 
 his way to the ship Jean stopped to kiss the kneeling, weep- 
 ing maiden, and hurridly said, "Adelle, trust in God and all 
 will be well." On different vessels both were landed in 
 New York, and the maiden, with her mother, found a home 
 far up the Hudson, from which the former was carried away 
 in an Indian raid and made the petted prisoner of a 
 chief in the deep forest recesses of the Mohawk Valley. 
 
 In time Jean became a trader with the Indians, and in 
 one of his long journeys one day "approached the wigwam 
 of the old chief, and amid the forest shadows saw a young 
 woman, with her back toward him, as she sat on a mat 
 feathering arrows. On her head sat jauntily a French cap. 
 With this, her fair neck suggested her nativity. He 
 
21 
 
 approached her gently — their eyes met. The maiden 
 sprang from the mat, and uttering a wild cry of joy and 
 * Jean,' fell fainting in his arms." 
 
 Poetry and romance have vied with history in portrayal 
 of the pitiable experience of this people, who left France 
 with hope of bettering their lives in the rugged wilderness 
 of a far away and unknown land. 
 
 Strangely enough its history presents the elements of 
 romance, and poetry and story can scarce reach beyond the 
 real limits of cheerless history. 
 
 A rugged land, an unostentatious people, ever on the 
 rack of misfortune, but never swerving from the habits and 
 faith of their fathers, Acadia has been made by the poet's 
 magic pen the land of Evangeline, and she, the pure 
 souled, the patient, ever loving and ever faithful, the 
 representative of her people, whose cup was always well- 
 nigh filled with bitterness, but who, like her: 
 
 "Meekly bowed their heads, and mnnnured, 
 Father, I thank Thee.'' 
 
22 
 
 COSTUMES OF THE ACADIANS. 
 
Their Transportation and the Cause- 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 In 1740, difficulties between France and England, in 
 consequence of court intrigues, kindled a needless war which 
 terminated in the treaty of Aix-la Chapelle. The details of 
 the treaty exhibited on the part of the French ministers 
 such neglect and unpardonable ignorance that a new war 
 began very soon on the borders of Acadia. The Governor of 
 Canada placed garrisons along the frontiers, and the peace 
 heretofore enjoyed by the Acadians ceased to exist. 
 
 In 1755 the envy which the prosperity and rich soil of 
 the colony had excited among the militia of New England 
 brought on this infamous and cruel spoliation, an eternal 
 stain on the name and honor of England, which, unfortun- 
 ately, is without more than one parallel in the history of 
 that nation. This iniquitous decision was carefully con- 
 cealed from the Acadians, in order not to provoke a suspi- 
 cion that might have proved dangerous, A proclamation 
 was issued calling on the people to assemble on the 5th of 
 September, 1755, in their different parishes, to hear an 
 important communication from the Governor. This deceit 
 was not everywhere successful. At Beau-Basin, part of 
 what had remained of the French Acadian population took at 
 once to the woods. The people of Annapolis, accustomed 
 of old to seek in the forests a refuge against the cruelties of 
 war, did not wait for the completion of this horrible catas- 
 trophe, therefore a certain number only fell into the hands 
 of their foes. 
 
24 
 
 But in the district of Mines, which is the wealthiest in 
 Acadia, good care had been taken to secure the success of 
 the plot. This population, peaceful, industrious, and not 
 as suspicious, perhaps, responded in a body to the call of 
 the Governor, and being secretly surrounded by soldiery, 
 were told they were prisoners of war, and their lands, tene- 
 ments and household goods forfeited to the crown, and 
 that on the 10th of September they were to embark for the 
 British Colonies. 
 
 This awful communication fell like a thunderbolt and 
 stunned the wretched families. Without arms, surrounded 
 by soldiers and crushed beneath calamity, the Acadians 
 4iad to bow to the atrocious law of a triumphant foe; and 
 on the 10th of September the mournful expatriation took 
 place. 
 
 That date had been fixed upon as the day of departure, 
 and a man-of-war was in waiting for them. At daybreak 
 drums were resounding in the villages, and at eight o'clock 
 the ringing of the church bells told the sad and desolate 
 Frenchmen that the time had come for them to leave for- 
 ever their native land. Soldiers entered their houses and 
 turned away men, women and children into the market 
 place. Till then each family had remained together, and a 
 silent sadness prevailed; but when the drums beat to em- 
 bark; when the time had come to leave their native homes 
 forever, to part with mother, relatives, friends, without 
 hope of seeing them again, to follow strangers, that enmity, 
 language, habits, and especially religion had made distaste- 
 ful; crushed beneath the weight of their misery, the exiles 
 melted into tears and rushed into each others' arms in a 
 long and last embrace. The drums were resounding 
 incessantly and the crowd was pushed on toward the ships 
 anchored in the river. Two hundred and sixty young men 
 were ordered to embark on board the first vessel. 
 This they refused to do, declaring they would not 
 leave their families. This request was immediately 
 rejected, but they were forced into subjection b)' 
 the troops, who, with fixed bayonets, advanced 
 
25 
 
 toward them, and those who tried to resist were wounded, 
 leaving no alternative but to submit to this horrible 
 tyranny. The road leading from the church to the shore 
 was crowded with women and children, who, on their 
 knees, greeted them with tears and their blessings, as they 
 passed, bidding a sad adieu to husband or son, and extend- 
 ing to them trembling hands, which they sometimes could 
 press in theirs, but which a brutal soldier compelled soon 
 to be released. The young men were followed by their 
 seniors, who passed through the same scene of sorrow and 
 distress. In this manner were the whole male population 
 put on board of the five transports stationed in the river; 
 each of these were guarded by six officers and eighty 
 privates. As soon as other vessels arrived, the women and 
 children were put aboard, and when at sea the soldiers 
 would sing, unmindful of such dreary misfortune. The 
 tears of these poor, wretched people excited their cruelty, 
 and even they had a good deal to suffer at the hands of the 
 officers. 
 
 Revenge, mean cruelty, implacable cupidity, and every 
 contemptible passion concurs to increase the infamy of this 
 ^^ odious removal, and brand it as one of the most shameful 
 / pages of English history. 
 
 For several consecutive evenings the cattle would con- 
 gregate around the smoking ruins of the homes, as if expect- 
 ing the return of their owners, while the faithful watchdogs 
 were howling on the deserted hearths. 
 
 According to the Bevue des Deux Mondes of 1831, the 
 number of prisoners thus removed from the district of 
 Mines amounted to 4,000, and it may be said that the whole 
 French population had been banished, aa very few could 
 escape. 
 
 From the following statement may be obtained an idea 
 of the wealth of that country. Four thousand houses and 
 five thousand stables were burned; twelve thousand oxen, 
 three thousand cows, five thousand calves, six thousand 
 horses, twelve thousand sheep and eight hundred pigs^were 
 taken possession of. 
 
26 
 
 The American colonists, who had long since provoked 
 the measures, obtained a grant of the land, and of course the 
 numerous herds were not without profit to some one; so 
 nothing had been neglected to succeed in that canton, which 
 was the wealthiest of all. 
 
 How did these poor people live in the forest and wilder- 
 ness? Through what succession of dangers and sufferings 
 did they pass in the presence of speculators among whom 
 their lands were divided? This we do not know. But we 
 are aware that they felt the pangs of hunger and cold and 
 defended their lives against wild beasts. 
 
 At the present time we find a small parish of Acadian 
 origin, growing on the ruins of their countr}'-, in Ihe midst 
 of British invaders. The population are French Acadians 
 and Catholics in every principle, and remain as an uncon- 
 querable protest of justice. They are the inhabitants, who, 
 escaping from British persecution, took refuge in the wood& 
 and later emigrated into several localities of the St. Law- 
 rence. 
 
 In 1755 the French commanding oflicer stationed him- 
 self at Beause jours with a small garrison of one hundred 
 and fifty men, where they watched the movements of the 
 British, who, later on, took the fort by a surprise. The 
 women and children were able to escape and hide away in 
 the woods, and were soon after joined by the commander 
 with a few armed men. When they saw the flames destroy- 
 ing their houses, the blood of the old Acadians swelled in 
 their veins, and they listened only to words of anger and 
 revenge. They sent their wives and children into the 
 woods and threw themselves suddenly on their enemies, 
 who, broken by the furious and unexpected attack, returned 
 to their ships, leaving forty-five of their comrades dead or 
 wounded. After this dreadful slaughter, the French officer 
 apportioned to the best of his ability the few remaiDing 
 families, sending some to the islands of the Gulf, while 
 others, loth to leave, began again to clear the wooils along 
 the scores; but the majority of those established on the 
 shores had to take refuge in Canada. 
 
27 
 
 In 1757 there remained on the borders of the Gulf of 
 St. Lawrence very few families, being unobserved because 
 of their small number and the remoteness of English 
 settlements. The usual poverty of an uninhabited country 
 made it anything but a desirable location. 
 
 As to the fate of the people dwelling along the river of 
 Annapolis they threw themselves in the woods at the first 
 suspicion, for they had for some time been accustomed to- 
 such tactics, but this time it was not a passing storm after 
 which they could return to their fields and rebuild their 
 wooden houses. The English levied on them a lasting war. 
 One portion of the people of Annapolis were obliged to take 
 refuge in forests and deserts, with the savages, while others- 
 scattered along the shores, where, poor and unnoticed, they 
 earned their living as Acadian fishermen. There, for 
 several years they succeeded in concealing their existence 
 amid anxieties and privations, hiding carefully their small 
 canoes, not daring to till the land, watching, with apprehen- 
 sion, any English sail, and dividing with their friends, the 
 Indians, the supplies due to fishing and hunting. 
 
 The woodland remains yet, but to-day under its shade 
 lives a race different in customs and language. It is only 
 on the dreary and misty shores of the Atlantic that vegetate 
 yet a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers came back from 
 exile to die in their native land. In their cabins their 
 spinning wheel and loom are yet in motion. The young 
 girls still wear the Norman bonnet and petticoat, and in the 
 evening, sitting near the fire, they repeat the history of the 
 Gospel, while in its rocky caverns near by the ocean roar& 
 and answers in a disconsolate tune to the groans of the 
 forest. 
 
 Since then, like the passing of a terrible storm, leaving- 
 wreck and ruin in its track, the persecution subsided, the 
 Acadians made use of a kind of sufEerauce to establish them- 
 selves openly on the shores that had been their refuge for so 
 many years. A few years after, they were joined in these 
 solitary and wretched parts of the country by a small fraction 
 of those transported by the English in 1755. Such is the 
 
28 
 
 origin of the Acadian population in Canada that has given 
 its name to the parish called Acadia, in the county of St. 
 John, a place made immortal by the beautiful poem of 
 Longfellow, and is known as the home of Evangeline. 
 
 A memorial of the Bishop of Quebec, dated October 
 30th, 1757, let us know their number, especially at Cape 
 Sable, where a Catholic missionary comforted and sustained 
 them against English persecution; this missionary'- had ])een 
 called by them, and offered to defray his own expenses. 
 
 A certain number still remained scattered in different 
 places, living miserably in the remotest cantons. 
 
 In 1763 permission was granted to Acadians that had 
 been transported into Massachussetts to establish themselves 
 ■on the southwest shore of their old country, near St. Mary's 
 Bay. 
 
 The township of Clare, Digby county, was at the time a 
 rough and jagged place, remote from all habitation and 
 accessible only by sea. The Acadians, who seem to possess 
 as an essential characteristic a constant energy and indomi- 
 table perseverance, were ready to recommence the struggle 
 and work without loss of courage. They were not long in 
 putting their shoulder to the wheel when the said inheri- 
 tance, granted them by the compassion of their oppressors, 
 came back into their hands. Industrious, hard workers, 
 they soon cleared the land, built fishing boats, and created 
 in this deserted country a sufficient thrift. All the authors 
 are in accordance in their testimon}' as to the preservation 
 of the language, national character and vigilance to main- 
 tain old customs. 
 
 Mr. Halliburton, Judge in Nova Scotia, had written the 
 following in 1829: "While Germans have a tendency to 
 -disappear in the English population, the Acadians live 
 together as much as possible, keeping their religion, 
 language and peculiar customs. They never intermarry 
 with their Protestant neighbors. Among themselves they 
 speak but French." This great man's friendship for the 
 Abbott Sigogue continued to the period of his election for 
 
29 
 
 the county of Clair, which includes St. Mary's parish. 
 Those two men of superior talent in their different careers, 
 understood one another at their first meeting. 
 
 The author of Sam Slick took great interest in convers- 
 ing with this French priest, whose life, ideas and habits 
 contrasted so strangely with his surroundings. On his 
 part the priest felt a warm friendship for this bright, intel- 
 ligent, sensitive, sarcastic, free-of-all-prejudice Protestant, 
 and he did not hesitate to notify his party that they could 
 depend on his influence in favor of religious independence; 
 and was one of the first to propose the abolition of the test 
 oath, which barred all Catholics from holding a public 
 oflice. Father Sigogne was one of the first promoters of 
 the emancipation act presented and unanimously adopted 
 by the Legislature of Nova Scotia — thanks to the masterly 
 speech of Halliburton in 1827, the most remarkable part of 
 which was his eulogy of the Acadians, of whose manners 
 and habits he had made a special study during his resi- 
 dence in Annapolis, from 1722 to 1724. Says Beamish 
 Murdock, referring to it, " It was the most magnificent and 
 eloquent oratory that I ever heard." Halliburton was then 
 mentally and physically in the prime of his life. The 
 bracing air of his native home, Windsor, gave him a robust 
 appearance, although his figure was still young and spare. 
 On this occasion he literally carried his audience with him 
 by the force of his eloquence, aided by his classical and 
 historical studies, and by his appeal to the tenderest feelings 
 of human nature. 
 
 This speech is too closely allied to our subject to pass 
 without citing a few passages. After informing them that 
 he represented a great number of Catholics, and that for 
 several years he had been an intimate friend of their 
 venerable pastor, Father Sigogue, "For what reason," he 
 asked, " does the Protestant and Catholic mix in the same 
 social reunions and live in perfect harmony ? Why does 
 the Catholic weep at the death of a Protestant friend he 
 has loved while living? Why does he act as pall-bearer to 
 his last resting place and mingle his tears with the dust that 
 
so 
 
 covers his friend? If in Great Britain there is an evident 
 feeling of hostility, it must be for other causes than a simple 
 ■difference of religion. Ireland offers the saddest spectacle. 
 While the Catholic is in duty bound and naturally inclined to 
 support his priest, he is obliged by the laws of the country 
 to pay tithe to the Protestant minister. Then you see 
 churches without believers, ministers without congrega- 
 tions and bishops enjoying immense salaries without any 
 dvity to perform, These Catholics must be more or less 
 than men. If they suffer all this without complaint they 
 feel it and murmur. The Protestants, on their part, are 
 continually clamoring against them and declare them as a 
 bad class of people. All Catholic church property has 
 passed into the hands of the Protestant clergy, also the 
 tithe, lands and domains of the monasteries. Who can con- 
 template without regret those monasteries, venerable even 
 in their ruins? What has become of those scientific, chari- 
 table and hospitable asylums, where the pilgrim, weary 
 from a long journey, or the harassed traveler, stopped for 
 rest and received a hearty welcome; where the poor 
 received their daily food and implored with a heart full of 
 gratitude the benedictions of the pious and good men that 
 fed them; those asylums where knowledge held her assizes 
 and science plunged her flaming hand into the darkness of 
 barbarism and ignorance ? 
 
 " Allow me, Mr. President, to linger as I often have in 
 times long ago during hours and days, amidst those ruins; 
 you also must have lingered to contemplate those desolate 
 ruins. Tell me while contemplating those cloisters, and 
 while your feet tread their mosaic paths through which 
 the grass grows, have you not imagined hearing the solemn 
 tread of the monks in their holy procession? Have you 
 not imagined hearing the chimes of the bells pouring forth 
 in the eve their soft and melancholy sounds through the 
 quiet and solitary valley? Have you never heard the 
 seraphic choirs diffuse the harmonious chant of their 
 hymns through immense waves or aerial arches? Do not 
 those columns in ruins, those Gothic arches, those cracked 
 
31 
 
 and ivy covered walls appeal to you, while reminding you of 
 the spoilers, at least to shed a tear to the memory of those 
 great and good men who founded them? It has been said 
 that Catholics were the enemies of liberty, but that asser- 
 tion, like many others brought against them, is utterly false. 
 Who established the grand chart? Who established our 
 -judges, our jury system, our magistrates, our sheriffs, etc.? 
 It was the Catholics. It is to those slandered people that 
 we owe everything of which we are proud to-day. Were 
 they not loyal and brave? Ask the green hills of Chrystler's 
 farm; ask at Chateauguay; ask the hills of Queenstown. 
 They will tell you they cover the loyal and brave Catholic, 
 the ashes of heroes that died for their country. Here their 
 sentiments had full sway, because there was no cause for 
 dissension and no properties to dispute. They were looked 
 upon as good subjects and good friends. Friendship is 
 natural to man's heart. It is like the ivy searching the oak, 
 twining around its trunk, embracing its branches, surround- 
 ing them with beautiful wreaths, and climbing to the top 
 balances its magnificent banner of foliage above, as though 
 proud of having conquered the king of the forest. 
 
 " Look at the township of Clare. There you see a mag- 
 nificent spectacle, a whole nation having the same habits, 
 speaking the one language, and united in the one religion. 
 It is a spectacle worthy of the admiration of man and the 
 approbation of God. See their worthy pastor, the able 
 Sigogue, at the rising of the sun surrounded by his people, 
 rendering thanks to the Author of all gifts. Follow him 
 to the sick bed ; watch him diffuse the balm of consola- 
 tion on the wounds of the afliicted. Follow him in his 
 field, showing an example of industry to his people ; in his 
 cabinet instructing the innocent youth. Follow him in his 
 chapel ; you will see the savage from the desert with all his 
 fierce and untamed passions. You will see him conquered 
 and submissive in the presence of the Holy Man. You will 
 hear him tell the Indian to recognize God in the calm and 
 solitude of the forest, in the roar of the cataract, in the 
 splendid order of the planetary system, in the regular order 
 
32 
 
 of day and night ; the Indian does not forget to thank God 
 in his own dialect for the revelations the white man has 
 taught him." Mr. Halliburton next recited the dispersing 
 of the Acadians, then, as representatives of the descendants 
 of those people, he demanded of the deputies the abolition 
 of the test oath, not as a favor, as he would not accept it 
 through compassion, but from their justice. "Any man,'' 
 said he in conclusion, " who puts his hand on the New 
 Testament, and says, 'This is my Book of Faith,' be he 
 Catholic or Protestant, whatever may be the difference of 
 opinion on certain doctrines, he is my brother and I embrace 
 him. We are traveling different paths to the same God. 
 In my pathway of life I meet a Catholic, I salute him, travel 
 with him, and when we arrive at the term, flammantia . 
 luhdna mundi\ when this time comes, as it surely must; / 
 when this tongue that to-day expresses my thoughts, will L 
 chill in my mouth; when this breast that now breathes the 
 pure air of heaven will refuse longer to serve me; when , 
 these earthly clothes will return to the earth from whence ( 
 they came and will mingle with the dust of the valley, then 
 with the Catholic I will turn a long, languishing look at the / 
 past, I will kneel with him, and instead of saying like the 
 presumptous Pharisee: 'Grace to God, I am not like this 
 papist,' I will pray that being both of the same blood we 
 will both be pardoned, and being brothers, we shall both be 
 received above." 
 
 Such language from a Protestant, addressed to a Protes- 
 tant audience, could not fail to produce its effects. At the 
 same time he showed the impression of the holy life of the 
 Abbot Sigogue had on all his surroundings. The Catholics 
 of Nova Scotia, and particularly the Acadians, have placed 
 beside the name of Mr. Halliburton the name of Mr. 
 Uniacke, one of the most noted members of the Legislature, 
 who supported the Deputy of Clare, if not with the same 
 eloquence, at least with the same spirit of justice. With 
 this victory dropped the last chain of the Acadians and 
 opened an era of liberty that has made them one of the 
 happiest nations on earth. 
 
88 
 
34 
 
 Providence granted the Abbot Sigogue seventeen years 
 of life from that date to strengthen the good he had done 
 in the midst of this population, becoming more and more 
 docile to his voice and examples. He died of old age in 
 1844, at the age of eighty-five, taking with him the regrets 
 of all his people, and everything that shows a man that life 
 *8 worth living for, and the conviction of having accom- 
 plished his duty and deeds that never die. If every you 
 cross St. Mary's Bay you will see Abbot Sigogue's tomb, 
 surrounded with honor and respect. You will there see 
 kneeling, the children whose parents he baptized, and of 
 whom he made more worthy of the confessors of the last 
 century. With the Abbot Sigogue died in Acadia the gen- 
 eration of Apostoical men that the tempest of '93 had 
 scattered over her surface, divided them into three provinces, 
 namely, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward's 
 Isle. The small knots of families the missionaries had dis- 
 covered on the verge ol being lost that they organized, 
 disciplined to whom they gave a part of their lives and 
 virtues, have to-day become legions, full of brave and 
 courageous people on whom we can depend. After increas- 
 ing on their on their own merit by doubling every twenty- 
 one years from 1785 to 1827, they doubled every twenty-two 
 years from 1827 to 1871. The last official census of 1881 
 states that there is to-day 56,635 Acadians in New Bruns- 
 wick, 41,219 in Nova Scotia, which forms part of Cape 
 Breton, and 10,757 on Prince Edward's Isle. Those figures 
 do not include the Acadian population of the Magdelena 
 isles, which numbers over 3,000, nor those north of the 
 Gulf and the Bay Des Chalems, Newfoundland and the 
 State of Maine, belonging to the Madawaska group, which 
 will raise about 20,000 souls, giving the Acadian popu- 
 lation of all these regions a total of over 130,000 souls. 
 As I said before, the Acadians are represented by 
 men of their own race. In the Senate and House 
 of Commons they have their deputies and even 
 their local legislators. Men educated and noted among all 
 classes of society, we no longer count the number of their 
 
35 
 
 schools, at the head of which stands Memramcook's classi- 
 cal college, without a doubt the best Catholic institution in 
 the Maritime Provinces. They have several convents 
 devoted to the instruction of youth in each of the Provinces, 
 and as far as the Magdalena Islands they control the elec- 
 tion in many counties. They have their French papers that 
 teach them their rights, their attachment to their language 
 and to France, at the same time declaring their entire 
 fidelity to England. In fact, they possess all the elements 
 of progression possible to wish. The reunion of the British 
 Provinces in Confederation strengthened them, at the same 
 time binding them more closely to their brothers in Canada. 
 In fifty years they will number half a million, and will be a 
 power in the Maritime Provinces, as the Canadians are 
 to-day in the Confederation. 
 
 France has been, until the middle of the last century, 
 one of the greatest colonial powers in the world. The 
 moment seems propitious to present to the public the 
 researches we publish here. It is sad, indeed, in exhibiting 
 the national character, to call back the painful end of efforts 
 which, at their beginning, raised such bright and legitimate 
 hopes; but we must overcome the natural repulsion gen- 
 erated by misfortune, and fix our minds on the sad 
 recollections of the past, to derive from our disasters useful 
 information to guide and strengthen our conduct in the 
 future. We know that it is not without concern for us to fol- 
 low the French people, abandoned in our old possessions 
 and to show what has become of their posterity, through 
 the difficulties and trials of a foreign domination. France 
 seems to have forgotten that in the dark hours of her 
 history important populations of her own blood, and in spite 
 of misfortune, faithful to their origin, were forsaken by her. 
 Who remembers to-day, Acadia, Canada, Louisiana, or even 
 Mauritius, though so recently lost? Who has any 
 recollection of places illustrated by so many heroic fights, 
 and the devoted patriotism of their inhabitants? It is hard to 
 awaken remembrances of our past glory, and to point out that 
 France has been the first to commence this wonderful devel- 
 
36 
 
 opment of civilization in North America, while losing, 
 through her carelessness, the generous children she did not 
 know how to defend. 
 
 Courageous colonists, who with energetic perseverance 
 have faced persecutions and abandonment, you have kept 
 everywhere, not only the tradition, but also the religion, cus- 
 toms, language and love of your country. Has not the time 
 arrived to depart from that selfish indifEerence with which 
 we rewarded their affection? Those to whom the greatness 
 and prospects of France are yet worthy of consideration 
 will understand that to call attention to the national ques- 
 tion is to attend to the future eventually laid up for the 
 French race. 
 
 / Five hundred and seventy-nine miles in twenty-four 
 hours by the Intercolonial road from Quebec to St. John, 
 New Brunswick. The train, as usual on that line, was just 
 late enough to enable you to miss the boat making three 
 trips per week between St. John, Digby and Annapolis. 
 Compelled am I to wait until night for the steamer from 
 St. John to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. These delays are so 
 frequent that gossip says there is an understanding between 
 the railroad conductors and St. John hotel keepers, the 
 latter having the reputation of charging exorbitant prices to 
 travellers. My experience at the Royal Hotel will confirm 
 the above statement. Far away to the south the blue 
 shores of Nova Scotia, separated here by the narrow but 
 high chain of mountains, with a suspension bridge a hun- 
 dred feet above the gorge, at the bottom of which the St. 
 John River precipitates itself in a foaming cataract of 
 elegance and strength. From this point can be witnessed 
 one of nature's greatest wonders on the continent. The 
 tide, that rises as high as twenty-six feet in this vicinity, en- 
 gulfs itself in this gorge, repulses the current and permits for 
 a few minutes vessels to mount above the cataract. In 1634 
 Baron La Tour, a Huguenot gentlemen, built a fort on 
 Point Carleton, opposite Navy Island, a few rods above the 
 cataract, where he done a profitable business in pelts and 
 trading with the Indians. This fort, now entirely demol- 
 
37 
 
 ished, witnessed one of the most tragical events in the 
 annals of America. Leaving Paris with his son Charles 
 Amador, then fourteen years of age, Claude La Tour first 
 thought of settling in Acadia, near Fort Royal. Seventeen 
 years later Charles La Tour was elected Governor of 
 Acadia through the death of Biencourt, son of Poutrincourt, 
 whom he succeeded. 
 
 Claude De La Tour being taken prisoner by the 
 English some time previous, was conducted to London^ 
 where he was surrounded by caresses, made Baronet and 
 married to the first Maid of Honor of Queen Henriette, of 
 France, w^ife of Charles I. The same Princess that was 
 immortalized by Bossuet, Claude De La Tour offered the 
 King of England to secure him the keys of Fort St. Louis^ 
 the ably fortified post held by the French in Acadia. He 
 sailed with two frigates for America and anchored under 
 the walls of Fort St. Louis, of which but a few ruins 
 remain, and proposed to his son to deliver the place to 
 them. In return he assured him the greatest honors awaited 
 him in London, and the supreme Government of Acadia in 
 the name of the King of Great Britain. The father answered 
 Charles De La Tour indignantly: "You are greatly mis- 
 taken if you think I would deliver this fort into the hands 
 of the enemies of this State. I will defend it for the King, 
 my master, as long as I have a breath in my body. I highly 
 esteem the position offered me by the King of England, 
 but will never purchase them at the price of treason. The 
 Prince I serve is able to recompense me, but should he 
 forget me, in my fidelity I will find the best of all rewards." 
 Seeing there was no alternative, he landed his troops and 
 cannon and attacked the fort, where he was gallantly 
 repulsed and forced to retreat. Becoming at the same 
 time a traitor to France and the cause of a disaster to Eng- 
 land, the poor unfortunate dared not return to Europe. He 
 advised his wife to return with the vessels to England, for 
 there was nothing left him but shame and misery. "Never,'* 
 assured this noble woman, " I have not espoused you to 
 abandon you at the first reverse of fortune. Wherever you 
 
38 
 
 will conduct me, and no matter to what misery you may be 
 reduced, I will always be your faithful companion. My 
 happiness shall always be to share your grief." La Tour 
 then turned to his son, whose grandeur of soul he began to 
 understand, and asked for clemency. The hero did not 
 belie himself, but taking his father and family, gave them a 
 house and a bountiful supply of everything necessary, on 
 condition that he and his wife should never put their foot ' 
 inside the fort, where they lived in peace and comfort sev- 
 eral years. 
 
39 
 
 A SHARPSHOOTER. 
 
ACADIAN RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 BY MDE. MOREL DE I-A DURANTAYE. 
 
 PART THIRD. 
 
 The writer of this, being a descendant of the Acadian 
 exiles, ventures to offer a contribution to their sad history, 
 partly derived from records and partly from impressions 
 made by recitals of those among whom she was reared. It 
 was true that those who made the terrible journey through 
 the wilderness had been gathered by death before my birth^ 
 but I well remember seeing and conversing with their 
 children, born after their departure, from their original 
 homes, some on board the vessels that carried them to the 
 English colonies, others in the forests during their wander- 
 ings in search of a place to rest. 
 
 Some of these people, then very old, had been nursed 
 by their mothers all through the long, weary way, as in 
 terror they tied they knew not where. 
 
 The sorrowful stories were so burned into my young 
 heart that in my after- journejings through the province, I 
 have eagerly listened to repetitions by their descendants, 
 who tell, with touching pathos, the incidents handed down 
 in families from generation to generation. The length of 
 time that has elapsed makes it impossible to now give primi- 
 tive exactitude, and, therefore this record must bear some- 
 what the form of legends of my native village, where my 
 story begins. 
 
41 
 
 Going backward more than a century eastern Canada 
 was a trackless wilderness. It was 1755 or 1756 when a few 
 families were seen wending their way through it; all victims 
 of the same misfortune, who, for some cause, now unknown, 
 halted on the banks of the Montreal River, and decided that 
 they were now sufficiently hidden and might venture to 
 there establish a home. 
 
 It was a curious but not unnatural fancy, that the exiles 
 usually named any new^ place that they might decide to 
 occupy, after some one that was dear to them in the land 
 from which they had been expelled. 
 
 This group had found a spot where they determined to 
 begin anew the struggle of life, to try once more what 
 unremitting toil would bring forth, and named it Little 
 Acadia — after their lost country. Thus began a little colony, 
 toward w^hich other fugitives, as if by instinct, worked their 
 weary way. The scenes then occurring there would soften 
 the flintiest heart. The poor unfortunates arrived one after 
 another, in straggling groups and wholly destitute, seeming 
 like parts of a wreck after a storm, drifted by the winds to 
 the same shore. Fathers with large families came, accom- 
 panied, perhaps, by some of their neighbors. Often poor 
 young girls lived through the journey, while their aged 
 parents died by the way from hardship and starvation, 
 . finding their last rest in the gloomy forest. Groups of these 
 wanderers were often partly or wholly lost in the wilderness 
 to be seen no more. The survivors, filled with grief for 
 those that had disappeared by the way, and embittered 
 toward those who had caused their misery, could but 
 recount the painful story and weep. Occasionally an old 
 mother, whose love for her children was great enough to 
 surmount every obstacle and bear with all the hardships of 
 the journey, would finally reach the place that was to wit- 
 ness the last sacrifice of her life. In her dying hour she T 
 might be heard asking God to bless all the poor exiles around 
 her, and then, in a way so innocent and pure that you 
 would know they were the last wish of a loving mother's 
 heart, hear her cry, "My children, where are they? Alas! 
 
 / 
 1 
 
42 
 
 God only knows, but if any of you ever see them tell them 
 that their old mother died, blessed them, and asking God to 
 bless and protect them from the tyranny of the English, and 
 at last to forgive them." 
 
 In pain and poverty, sighs and tears, thus was Little 
 Acadia begun, and in the midst of these humble unfortun- 
 ates, in the fields close by the cottage, the erection of which 
 was just commenced, my father was born; and in that same 
 little colony I first saw the light of day. 
 
 This constitutes but the means of insight into the multi- 
 tude of oft-told experience, of trials and suJSerings that had 
 seared the souls of the exiles, had prepared their soil for 
 the growth of the tares of hate, that to this day flourish in 
 luxuriance. 
 
 From it we naturally turn to the causes that so crushed 
 this people as if beneath a heel shod with iron. 
 
 In the province now known as Nova Scotia, at an early 
 day lived a people whose land was known to them and the 
 world as Acadia. They were all French and lived in distinct 
 settlements, somewhat widely scattered. One of these was 
 known at the time as Port Royal, which w^as captured by the 
 English in 1710, and then named Annapolis, by which title 
 that colony was ever afterward designated. It is to the 
 people of this colony that this sketch is chiefly devoted, as 
 my ancestry was among those who escaped from it, as well 
 as many of those with whom I spent my early years, and 
 from whom I received the early and lasting impressions. 
 
 Port Royal was the most valuable point owned by the 
 French in America. In 1711 all the Acadian peninsula 
 suffered the fate of Port Royal. The French abandoned it 
 by a treaty in 1714. 
 
 Acadia thus passed under the English sceptre, and so 
 remained for nearly fifty years, when Nicholson, Governor 
 of the province, issued an order compelling the inhabitants 
 to come before September 5th, 1755, and show submission to 
 the English crown by taking an oath, or forfeit their right 
 as English citizens. This they had before been required to 
 do under direction of Phillips, who then represented the 
 
43 
 
 FROM MONTREAL TO LA PRAIRE. 
 
44 
 
 English government, and who granted the rights of citizens 
 without being required to bear arms, and permitted them to 
 w^orship as they chose, and that this should be perpetual. 
 The Acadians reminded Governor Nicholson of the promise 
 of Phillips, and the reserve he had granted in the oath 
 required of them. They also reminded him of the cruelty 
 of requiring them to fight against their own people, man 
 to man, but received in answer that Phillips had been 
 censured by the King for the rash promises he had made, 
 and that they must now submit to the King. There had 
 been deceit in politics in order to keep them there against 
 their own will, and the result of this hideous crime could 
 have but one result. 
 
 The Acadians asked that in case they desired to leave 
 the country they would be allowed to dispose of their prop- 
 erty. They were then informed that they could not either 
 sell their property or leave 'the country. They then 
 returned to their fireside, some in despair, others waiting in 
 hopes, but not one would swear allegiance to England and 
 raise his arm against France. Then began the tyranny of 
 the English administration; then those poor but heroic 
 people by stealth left their native home, carrying nothing 
 with them but their hatred for their persecutors. They left 
 one after another, men and women holding on their arms 
 their aged fathers and mothers. Their conversations were 
 held in low tones and ceased entirely on the threshold, the 
 head of the family first, then fallowed all the representa- 
 tives of a third generation, each with a load of some kind. 
 The procession started silently through the darkness to the 
 harbor, where la}^ the ship awaiting their embarkation and 
 transfer to the Canadian shore. 
 
 They left unnoticed by any one, as they feared arousing 
 the authorities, who w^ere already on the alert. Arrived 
 upon the beach amidst darkness, and blinded with tears, 
 there was, of course, some confusion; people could be heard 
 in low voices calling one another, and sailors letting go 
 their lines, but soon all noise ceased. Occasionally you 
 w^ould hear a few between their sobs bidding good-bys to 
 
45 
 
 their country, never to return. The anguish was general, 
 even little babes awoke from sleep and cried, as a cold 
 breeze would pass over their face; they knew it was not 
 their mother's caressing breath. The boat began to rock; 
 they felt it was not the rocking of their cradie, and theirs 
 were the last cries borne back to Acadia. 
 
 Go, now, you barbarous instrument of politics; go and 
 distribute on other shores your missions of tyranny and 
 outrage. Hidden in the forests on the beaches, and in the 
 midst of solitude are your victims. Do not flatter yourself 
 with the hope that their voices are silenced forever; that 
 their footsteps will never again return to their native soil; 
 that their stories will never reach the ears of the civilized 
 world, that God and the world will leave them eternally 
 without justice, and that you will continue your reign of 
 destruction without punishment. No! The voice of these 
 children shall not be hushed; it will outlive these courts 
 upheld by the tears and suffering of a nation, rocked in the 
 cradle of their misery and cries of anguish. Go, ye tyrants; 
 the calumny will fall upon your memory and follow you to 
 your tombs. 
 
45 
 
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