_The Doctor’s Proposal.--Blomidon.--The Expedition by Land.--The
Drive by Morning Twilight.--The North Mountain.--Breakfasting amid the
Splendors of Nature.--The illimitable Prospect.--The Doctor tells the
Story of the French Acadians._
“BOYS,” said the doctor, after Bart had ended his narrative, “it isn’t
often that such nonsense as yours was turns out so well in the end. I’d
rather have this old iron pot, with these old black sous, than even that
pot of gold which dazzled your imaginations so when you were digging.
If all mineral rods were to be so very lucky as Captain Corbet’s was, we
might go and test every old French cellar in the country. I can assure
you this is a gift of no common value. The rust marks and the mud which
you have made on my books and papers are rather welcome than otherwise.
Bart’s bone ought to receive a very careful examination. I think we
ought to dig up the whole cellar, and we may find more bones there.
“But I’ve got a proposal to make, which, perhaps, you will think a
reward for your discovery. To-morrow is Saturday. How would you like
to go off with me on an excursion for the day,--you and the other
boys,--the same party, in fact, that went with Mr. Long?”
“An excursion!” cried the boys, with radiant faces.
“Yes,” said the doctor. “I’ve been intending to make one for some time.
I was disappointed in not going with you in the schooner. These relics
have revived an idea which I had last year, but was not able to put in
practice. It is this: I have good reason to believe that somewhere on
the top of Blomidon there once stood a French fort, and that the ruins
are very distinctly visible yet. I have a very clear idea in my mind of
the exact locality, and think I can find it without any trouble. I am
very anxious to go there, and perhaps we can find more French relics to
add to our little stock in the Museum.
“Now, my plan is this: I will take my carriages and horses, and the
whole party can be accommodated. We will take provisions for the day. We
must start as early as four o’clock, so as to be at the mountain early.
We can breakfast over there. After we have found the French fort, I wish
to have a few hours for a quiet examination of the cliffs. I know some
good places for minerals, and I think I can obtain a basket full without
much trouble. I will see about the baskets, shovels, and hammers. We
shall want a spade or two, and I think, under the circumstances, we can
spend a very pleasant day. Now, what do you say to that?”
The answer of the delighted boys came in a perfect chorus of incoherent
and unintelligible words, in which, however, could easily be perceived
the language of intense excitement and of joyous assent.
“Very well,” said the doctor. “You let the other boys know, and remember
you must all be ready on the spot by four o’clock to-morrow morning--not
a minute later.”
After this the boys retired in great spirits to let the others know the
good fortune that awaited them on the morrow.
The following morning came, and all the boys were on the spot before the
appointed time. The doctor had three double wagons ready, drawn by six
horses, and filled with provisions, and all the implements that might,
by any possibility, be needed. It was quite dark as yet, but they
started in high glee, and as they drove along it became lighter every
moment.
They all felt the importance of the occasion. No frolicking this time.
No dressing up like scarecrows. No running ashore on mud flats. No
getting lost in fogs. No feeding on clams. No starvation. Everything was
now to be perfectly regular, perfectly orthodox, and rather dignified.
They were going, in the twofold capacity of archaeologists and
geologists, to search after the ruins of an ancient and historic
fortress, and then to find the mate of that amethyst which was taken
from here to delight a king of France.
At first, as they drove on through the level country, all the fields
and woods around lay wrapped in shadow; but as they went on the shadows
lessened, and they began to see the first rays of dawn. Leaving the
higher country, they at length descended into the dike land, which they
traversed, and at length reached the bridge that crosses Cornwallis
River. Then they went off over the wide vale of Cornwallis towards the
North Mountain.
On and on. The vale of Cornwallis has five different indentations, up
which the sea once flowed; but these are now reclaimed, and here the
green and fertile meadows spread out where once was red mud or salt sea.
On the long ridges between these diked districts are the houses of the
farmers, and woods, and orchards, and groves, and gardens. On every
side are the evidences of plenty and prosperity. Here and there small
villages appear, the centre of trade. The roads are numerous, running
every way, and are known by the name of streets. Nowhere can a country
be found which enjoys a greater abundance of all the richest gifts of
nature, a larger measure of all that can charm the eye, or invigorate
the body, or confer wealth and prosperity. Nowhere in the world can
actual working farmers be found whose tables are so loaded with varied
and substantial dishes. The Cornwallis farmers have not yet learned to
use everything that they have for purposes of trade. They are satisfied
with making money on one or two leading products, but reserve their
turkeys, and chickens, and cheese, and hams, and eggs, and apples, and
plums, to weigh down their own dinner tables.
On they went through streets, as they were called,--which in some places
were so closely bordered with houses that they deserved the name,--past
beautiful villas hidden among trees, past rich orchards, past long
hedgerows, past churches which pointed heavenward their tapering spires;
on they rode through busy little villages, over the broad dike lands,
whose rich, green robe extended far away on either side; along the edge
of deep mud gulches, which were to be filled by the rising tide; over
roads where there was not a stone to be seen, but only that soft, red
soil which makes such rich fields, but such wretched paths; and still,
as they went on, it constantly grew brighter, until at last the red sun
bounded up into the sky, and threw his glow over all the scene.
At length they approached the North Mountain. The place towards which
they went was six or seven miles this side of Cape Blomidon, and the
carriage road wound up it on its way to settlements on the shore of the
Bay of Fundy. Up this road they went, and soon they all reached the top
of the hill.
They drove for a mile along the ridge of the North Mountain, and at
length came to a place where the roadside was bare of trees, and the
hillside sloped very abruptly down towards the plain. It was a place
well known to all of them. It was a favorite resort for the whole
country on occasions of picnics or driving parties. Everything here was
familiar--the brook where they could get water, the big stone against
which they could build their fire. Here they drew up their horses, and
prepared to take their breakfast. The fire was soon burning; the kettle
was filled with water, and was soon boiling; the tea was made, and the
ample repast was spread out upon the grass. Here they sat, satisfying
their hunger, rendered keen by over two hours’ driving in the fresh
morning air, chatting merrily, and looking forth from their lofty seat
upon one of the most glorious views that can be conceived.
In truth, it was a glorious prospect. Beneath them lay the plains of
Cornwallis, which all stood revealed to their elevated position with
that peculiar effect known as “a bird’s eye view.” There the valleys
spread away with their intervening ridges; there ran the long,
straight streets; there rose the villas embowered among trees, the neat
farm-houses, and the tapering spires of churches.
The vivid green of the dike land surrounded all this, streaked here and
there by the long lines of woodland that rose on the low ridges, dotted
by groves and orchards, and intersected by the red-colored soil of the
roads. Far away on the opposite side lay the slopes of Grand Pré, with
the gleaming white of the houses dotting the green fields, and there
were the outlines of familiar objects, conspicuous among which was
the Academy, which rose immediately opposite, though many miles away.
Between them the sea rolled its waters, extending far away towards the
left, where the shores were so low that in one place the sea and sky
seemed to blend together; but in other places the shores stood out in
bolder reliefs, and there arose precipitous cliffs, and abrupt bluffs,
and lofty hills. These were on the extreme left, where the eye could
embrace a prospect that extended for fifty miles, while on the right the
eye could wander for many a mile, far away along that valley which lies
between the North Mountain and the South, and out of which there now
came the Cornwallis River, with many a winding to receive the flood tide
of the Basin of Minas.
It was upon this scene that they gazed as they took their breakfast;
and while the emotions of each were different, all felt the same general
glow that was naturally produced by the exhilaration of such a prospect
and such a position. Blomidon could not be seen, for that was hidden
behind a projection on the coast-line that ran down towards the cape,
and thus the scene was deprived of that grand figure which from every
other point is so attractive. Yet the elevation of their position here,
and the peculiar way in which the plain lay spread out at their feet,
and the vast extent of country which was embraced by the eye, served, in
some measure, to make amends for the absence of the majestic cliff.
And there, beneath them, the waters spread afar, red and turbid near the
shore, but farther out changing to deep blue; while towards the left,
where Blomidon lay hid, guarding the strait, they could see a mass of
fog, which had been thrust in from the outside bay, and stood there a
gray opaque wall, towering high above the water. Even as they gazed,
there shot out from that gray mass of fog a little schooner, which had
thus leaped in a moment from darkness into sunlight, and, like a bird
escaping suddenly from some gloomy cage, seemed to spread her wings
joyously, and move exultantly through the fresh, clear air.
“What a glorious prospect!” exclaimed Dr. Porter, who had been silently
enjoying the view for a long time. “Is it any wonder that the old
Acadians loved this country of theirs so passionately, and made such
desperate struggles to get back after they had been driven out?”
“Did they try to get back, sir?” asked Bart.
“I should think they did; and many succeeded, though they could not live
again in Grand Pré. But what a bitter thing it was to be torn, as they
were torn, from such a home as this, and scattered at random over all
the coast of North America!”
“Wasn’t the government sorry for it afterwards?” asked Tom.
“O, no; it was one of the cruelties of war. After all, it was not as bad
as the sack of a city, or even the bombardment of one. All these things
are alike abominable, and full of horror. The government considered
themselves well rid of people who were a trouble to them. That’s all.”
“But I don’t see why they couldn’t have let them alone.”
“It’s a sad story,” said the doctor, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you
about it.”
At this the boys all gathered around him. Some of them knew that story
pretty well; but others did not, and even those who did were very glad
of the chance of hearing it again.
“You all know about the discovery of America by Columbus,” began the
doctor, “and the voyages of Cabot immediately after. The French soon
rivalled the English, and Spanish, and Portuguese. Cartier and Champlain
sailed over all these seas, and by all these coasts, devoting themselves
chiefly to what is now British America. It is certainly a strange thing
that the part of America which was originally British should now have
passed away from British rule, and the only British America now should
be that which was originally French.
“Many years passed away, and no colonies were formed. At last, at nearly
the same time, the French and English both began. The French, however,
were first. They came over, and in 1606 founded Port Royal--now
Annapolis, you know. A year or two after, the English founded Jamestown,
and the French Quebec. So, you see, our little Annapolis is the oldest
place on the continent of America founded by Europeans, with, perhaps,
the exception of St. Augustine, in Florida.
“This beginning showed how things would go. The English took the
Atlantic seaboard, from Massachusetts to the Carolinas, while the French
took those countries that are now British provinces. At first but little
progress was made in this country. Its history consists chiefly of the
rivalry of two leading French families, who maintained trading stations,
and struggled for the preeminence out here, and for support from the
French government. Still the settlements grew, and not long after Port
Royal was founded, the French established other places also, and among
them Grand Pré settlement. They came here, cleared the forest, diked the
marshes, and soon became a prosperous and a happy community.
“So things went on. Meanwhile, the French and English were engaged in
continual war’s. Port Royal was captured some half a dozen times. But at
length one of these wars was concluded by the peace of Utrecht, in 1713,
by which this province was ceded to the English.
“At the time of the cession it was supposed that all the French
population would retire. The English allowed them a year to sell their
property and depart; with the permission to remain, however, if they
would take the oath of allegiance. But none were willing to take the
oath. As to going away, that soon proved to be a difficult matter. In
the first place, it was impossible for them to sell their farms, for
there were none to buy them. In the second place, it was impossible to
get away, for there were no ships to take them. The French government
would not send ships, for they hoped in the course of time to get back
the country, and preferred that this French population should remain.
The English, on the other hand, wouldn’t send their ships, first,
because they thought it was the business of the French government to do
so; and secondly, because the state of affairs out here scarcely excited
any attention whatever in the home government.
“Meanwhile, the English held the country, after a fashion. They didn’t
establish any towns, or send out any emigrants, but merely sent a
governor to Annapolis, as they now called Port Royal, with a nominal
regiment of soldiers. These soldiers were neglected most abominably.
Their numbers dwindled down to a small company; they were ragged, and
without sufficient arms and ammunition. The fort went to ruin. One
governor went to England, and lived there, drawing his pay, and letting
the soldiers and the fort get along the best way they could.
“At length one of the governors made an effort to do something. The
French, instead of quitting the country, had increased in numbers to an
alarming extent. So an attempt was made to get them to sign an oath of
allegiance to the King of England. This they refused to do, unless a
proviso were inserted in the oath, ‘that they should not be called upon
to bear arms.’ The governor, after some demur, acceded to this request,
and wrote the proviso on the margin of the document, which was then
signed. After this the English government repudiated this as utterly
unreasonable, and other governors made various efforts to get the
French to sign an unconditional oath, but only with partial success. The
majority of them claimed that indulgence which had been granted by the
proviso, and in accordance with this they determined to help neither
party, not even their own countrymen. They assumed the name of Neutrals,
by which they were known to both parties.
“The English could do nothing. There was only a handful of soldiers at
Annapolis, and though they were afterwards taken better care of, yet the
soldiers and the fort formed but a weak representation of the power of
Britain. The French were increasing in numbers. Here in Grand Pré they
were most numerous and most prosperous. They were peaceable, and happy,
and industrious, and contented. As a general thing, they maintained most
faithfully their position of neutrality. French agents came among them
to rouse them to action, but met with no response. French missionary
priests, acting as agents for the French governors of Quebec and
Louisbourg, tried to stir up their patriotic ardor, but without much
success. An expedition came from Louisbourg against Annapolis, but the
Aca-dians did not join it. Only a few joined the invading army, and when
they made an attack on Annapolis, the little English garrison was able
to beat them off. No fact can speak more plainly than this in favor
of the utter peacefulness of their dispositions, and their fixed
determination to keep out of all difficulties. That neutrality which
they professed they maintained as perfectly as it was possible for any
community.
“So things went on until the year 1749, when the English government took
the affairs of the long-neglected Province of Nova Scotia into their
consideration, and determined to colonize it on a large scale. So they
sent out a fleet with thousands of emigrants, and built the town of
Halifax. This was intended to be a counterpoise to Quebec, and also an
assertion of their power in the Province of Nova Scotia. Besides this
place, which they made the capital, instead of Annapolis, they formed
other settlements.
“But they soon found themselves cramped. The French, having been there
first, had taken possession of all the most eligible lands. The places
to which emigrants would most wish to go were already filled up.
Annapolis, and Grand Pré, and other places were occupied; and the
English who wished to settle had to go to places which were far
inferior. Besides this, the English wanted every man in the country to
be an active assistant,--not a neutral. All these things combined to
make the question of the Acadians a very troublesome one. The very
faithfulness with which they had maintained their professions of
neutrality made it all the more difficult; and for some years the
English settlers found themselves thus shut out from the best part
of the province, and confined to those portions which could never be
developed to any extent.
“You must remember that it was not the Province of Nova Scotia, but all
the British colonies in America, that participated in this question. All
along the Atlantic coast the provinces watched with eager interest the
progress of the English settlement here. Hundreds, came to Halifax from
Massachusetts and New York. They all belonged to that great English
party which, on this side of the Atlantic, was carrying on a
never-ending war with the French. It was a question between the French
and English races, which should rule. The English were far superior as
colonizers, the French as organizers. The English settlers increased and
multiplied; the French kept up formidable forts and armies, and enlisted
vast numbers of Indians on their side. There were a million and a half
of English, but not a hundred thousand French; yet the French kept
armies on foot which the English could barely equal. Besides, the
French had a grand scheme by which they hoped to crush the growth of the
English, and finally subdue them. They held all the valley of the St.
Lawrence, and the valley of the Mississippi. They had settlements on
both rivers, and their great scheme was to build a line of forts from
the Mississippi to the St. Lawrence, which should act as a wall to hem
in the English, and keep them within that narrow line of territory which
lies along the Atlantic shore. All this alarmed the colonies. They
were ready to fight against the French for this boundary line, and were
determined from the very outset to recognize no barrier whatever against
their progress westward. Nominal peace might be between France and
England at home, but out here there was never peace. War went on all
along the line of forts, and the French, with their Indians, struggled
with the hardy English colonists. Between all the English colonies there
was one universal sympathy; and while Nova Scotia watched the progress
of her more southern sisters with intense interest, they, on their part,
watched the progress of affairs in Nova Scotia with interest no less
intense. All were alike struggling with one common enemy. Massachusetts,
New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, all were watching to see how Halifax
would deal with the Acadians, or with Louisbourg; while Nova Scotia was
waiting to see how they would deal with the Ohio forts.
“You may imagine, then, what was the feeling here when the news came
of the expedition of that thick-headed and pragmatical fool General
Brad-dock; of his disastrous and abominable defeat, when his army was
ruined, and his own life thrown away, by a miserably inferior number of
French and Indians. A panic spread everywhere, and that panic which ran
through the other colonies was strong in Nova Scotia.
“Soon after, an opportunity arose to deal with the Acadians. The
governor was a strong-willed, determined, and energetic man. A powerful
fleet and army had assembled at Halifax. It was resolved to deal
summarily with the Acadians.
“But how? That was the question. It would not do to march an army
against them and expel them from their homes. They would merely fly to
the woods, and when the army had left, they would come back. So it was
resolved to expel them from their homes altogether.
“But how? Again the question arose. If they merely expelled them, giving
them the liberty of flying anywhere, they would all go to Cape Breton,
to swell the numbers of their foes. If they conveyed them away to any
particular place, they might be formidable from their numbers, and find
means of coming back in a body. So it was determined to carry them off
from Nova Scotia, and scatter them as widely as possible over all the
colonies along the Atlantic coast.
“By way of a beginning, they resolved to give the Acadians one last
chance to take the oath of allegiance, though they knew that the offer
was useless. So they sent for the leading men of the settlements, and
brought them to Halifax. There they were told that they must take the
oath, or submit to punishment. The Acadians refused, and pleaded their
rights as neutrals. Their plea was rejected, and they were imprisoned.
“After this the measures which were taken were swift and summary. Before
the Acadians could know what had happened, British troops appeared at
each of the settlements. At Grand Pré they summoned all the inhabitants
to a place of meeting. The Acadians came without suspicion. There they
were all arrested. Vessels were all ready to receive them, and they were
put on board. Husbands were separated from their wives, fathers from
their children, never to meet again. They were all packed on board of
the vessels. These vessels were nearly all small schooners, which had
been chartered by the government for this business from some Boston
merchants. Last year, when I was at Halifax, I saw among the Nova Scotia
archives the accounts of these merchants against the government of Nova
Scotia for the expenses of carrying off the Acadians. I took a copy of
one or two, which I will show you some day.
“The Acadians were thus in a moment snatched from their pleasant homes
in this beautiful country, and separated from one another, and packed in
small schooners, and carried far away,--some to Massachusetts, some
to New York, some to Philadelphia, some to Virginia, and some to the
Carolinas. What the Acadians of Grand Pré suffered, all suffered. They
were carried away, and scattered all over the Atlantic coast. A few
found their way back. But most of them lived and died in exile; and
there were friends divided, and husbands and wives severed, and families
scattered, never to meet again on earth, but to wear out their lives in
a foreign land, with the loss of all that was most dear. But what’s the
use of enlarging on this? If you want to know more about it, go and read
Longfellow’s Evangeline.”
The doctor ceased. The boys were silent, and in that silence the
thoughts of all wandered sadly over that past, when these shores and
these waters witnessed the mournful expulsion of the Acadians.