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“Ah, boys,” said the doctor, mournfully, “how much of human anguish may
we read there! how many broken hearts! how much despair appears before
us in those remorseless figures! Think of the name of Hancock being
associated with a thing like that. “Neutralls” they were--two hundred
and thirty “neutralls” at so much per head. Perhaps among those poor
exiles, contracted for at so much per head by that Boston firm, there
was some Evangeline looking over the sea, with her white lips and her
eyes of despair.
“Still,” continued the doctor, after some silence, “the English didn’t
have it all their own way. There were several occasions in which the
Aca-dians were able to baffle them. One place was at the head of the Bay
of Fundy, the River Pelilcodiac. Here the French were in league with the
Indians, as indeed they were throughout the whole of Canada and Acadie;
and when a detachment of troops was sent there to capture them, they
retreated to the woods. The troops made a descent at one place, where
they found twenty-five women and children. These they were merciless
enough to make prisoners. Then they went through the country devastating
it, and seeking thus to ruin the poor fugitives. It was villanous work.
They burned more than two hundred and fifty houses and a church. At last
the French made an attack on them, and they were forced to retreat. Had
the French shown a little more enterprise, they could have destroyed
them; as it was, the troops got off without much loss. There was another
instance when the French got the better of their enemies. It was a
vessel that was carrying over two hundred of them from Annapolis to
Carolina. The French rose, and got command of the vessel, and put into
the River St. John. The English heard of it, and sent a vessel after
them with British soldiers disguised as French. But the fugitives
discovered the trick, and not being able to cope with their enemies,
they set fire to the vessel, and escaped to the woods.
“There was a great deal of abominable cruelty in different parts.
Wherever they could not make prisoners, they burned their houses, in the
hope of starving them to death. Whole districts were thus devastated.
The descendants of these peopie remember all this yet, and can tell many
a tale of misery. Many of the exiles gradually worked their way back,
and found new homes for themselves in other parts of the country, and
their descendants are scattered all about the coasts of Nova Scotia
and New Brunswick. They are curiously like their ancestors. Simple,
innocent, joyous, peaceful, there is but little crime among them;
and though they are not so progressive as we are, yet they have other
qualities which may compensate for the absence of our more practical
faculties. They are certainly very stationary; so much so, indeed, that
some acute observers declare that they have not advanced so much as
their kindred in France. They say that our Aca-dians are more like the
French peasantry of a hundred years ago than the French themselves are
at the present day. This is particularly the case in the more remote
districts, such as the Bay de Chaleur. I have often been there myself,
and every time I visit one of their villages in that district, I recall
some of the descriptions of the Grand Pré Acadians in Longfellow’s
Evangeline.”
Here the doctor began to tell some anecdotes, and then went on speaking
of other things, until at length he stopped in front of a rusty
cannonball, which lay on a table in the middle of the room.
“Here,” said he, “is something which I received a few days ago, and I
think it is almost equal to the Acadian plough.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a cannon-ball from Louisbourg; and though I don’t know, of course,
for certain, yet I have made up my mind that it is a relic of the first
siege.”
“How can you tell, sir,” asked Bruce, “whether it is the first siege or
the second.”
“O, for that matter, I can’t tell at all very clearly; only the spot
where this was found makes it more likely to have been fired at the
first than the second. Besides, the first siege is far more interesting
to us, since it was the act of British Provincials, and an exploit quite
unparalleled in its way.”
“Why, sir, I always thought that the second siege was one of the
greatest achievements in war. Were there any generals in the first equal
to Wolfe, or any other men equal to Boscawen, and Rodney, and Amherst?”
“I’m glad you put it in that way,” replied the doctor. “No; in the first
expedition there are no names so brilliant as these. Pepperell was a
merchant, and a colonel in the militia. Whether that makes his exploit
the more glorious or not, I leave you to judge. But this much is true,
that about the first siege there was a reckless dash, and gallantry, and
romantic heroism which we cannot find in the second. Mind you, it was
all the work of a lot of farmers, fresh from the plough, raw militia,
and how they could get such a plan into their heads I cannot imagine,
I have often thought that it was their very ignorance that emboldened
them. It was principally the work of Massachusetts, though the other New
England Provinces took some share in it. The idea was started there, and
the governor took it up very earnestly. So they raised four thousand men
and a fleet of thirteen vessels, which was a wonderful thing to be done
by so thinly peopled and so young a community. At first they intended to
have the cooperation of the British fleet, but the commodore declined;
and it was only after he had sailed to Boston under orders from the
British government, and found the New England expedition gone, that he
followed them, and so took part in it; for Governor Shirley and the New
England militiamen resolved to go on, whether the commodore helped them
or not; and so they did go on. But it was all right in the end, for the
British fleet came up with them, and they went on in company to their
destination.
“They landed at Gabarus Bay, south of Louis-bourg, and behind the town.
It was the thirtieth of April, very early in the season, cold and foggy.
The French were there already to dispute the landing, but they outwitted
them most dexterously. It was cold, and boisterous, and foggy, as I have
said, and never did any men have harder work in getting their arms and
stores on shore; but all this was accomplished at last. The next day,
Major Vaughn, with four hundred men, went past the city up to the
harbor, and set on fire some warehouses. They made a great smoke, and
the soldiers in the Royal Battery, one of the chief works, spiked the
guns, and fled in a panic. On the following day, Vaughn, with thirteen
men, came near the fort, and, as it seemed to be deserted, they advanced
cautiously, and finally entered it. They hadn’t any flag; so one of
the soldiers climbed the flag-staff with his red coat in his teeth, and
nailed this to the staff as a flag. Vaughn then sent word to General
Pepperell, ‘May it please your honor to be informed that, by the grace
of God and the courage of thirteen men, I entered the Royal Battery
about nine o’clock, and am waiting for reenforcements.’ But before
reenforcements could come, the French at Louisbourg had seen them, and
sent a hundred men in boats to regain possession. Vaughn and his men,
however, were ready for them, and the little band gave them so warm a
reception, that they actually drove them back, and held possession till
reënforcements came. Then the Royal Battery’s guns were remounted, some
new ones brought, and all these were turned upon the city, and this
battery did not a little towards the final capture.
“It strikes me that this was an uncommonly plucky thing to do,”
continued the doctor, “and this incident is but one among many. The
whole siege is full of such exploits. The character of the besieging
army was odd in the extreme. The lads worked like oxen at their duties,
toiling away in the surf, and in the swamp, and in the woods, and yet at
the same time presenting an appearance of disorder that was shocking to
the martinets who were present. In front they fought like tigers, but in
the rear each man did what seemed right in his own eyes. In front there
was bombarding; in the rear frolicking, racing, wrestling, and pitching
quoits, running after the shot from the fortress, so as to get the
bounty that was offered. These honest lads knew nothing at all about
engineering, or regular approaches. The engineers who were present spoke
of parallels and zigzags; but the militiamen laughed at what they called
their outlandish gibberish, and made their approaches to the enemy in
their own homespun way. How do you think they contrived to do it? Why,
by making a bold advance by night, and throwing up an earthwork, and
intrenching themselves before morning. In this way they continued their
advance, to the utter confusion of the professional engineers. The
fact is, the audacity of pure courage meets with astonishing successes.
_L’audace, l’audace toujours l’audace_, is a French saying, which was
exemplified before the eyes of Frenchmen throughout all this first
siege. The commandant at Louisbourg thought there was an army of
thirteen thousand men besieging him, and all the time the army amounted
to less than four thousand farmers.
“And so the men carried on their siege, with their valor and their
laughter, their heroism and their sport, their sufferings and their
mirth; fighting in front, frolicking in the rear; enjoying life
like boys, but facing death like men. And that was the way they took
Louisbourg. When the gallant fellows marched into the stronghold which
they had captured, then first they seemed to have an adequate idea of
their undertaking. They looked around upon the formidable batteries,
the granite walls, the intricate gate-ways, and the mighty ramparts, and
were half appalled at the immensity of their success. And, indeed, the
success may well be called immense. It was a wonderful thing, when we
think who it was that achieved it. The success is all the more striking
when we consider the vast preparations that were made for the second
siege. That second siege does not seem to me to be at all equal to the
first in point of romantic interest; and then again, the fact that there
was a second siege is of itself a. stigma on the British government, for
so readily giving back to the French what had been so gallantly won. The
blood of those brave fellows had all been shed in vain; the work had all
to be done over again, and more blood had to be shed before that mistake
could be rectified. But when that mistake was rectified, and Louisbourg
was taken a second time, there was a very different minister at the head
of affairs; the struggle with the French was begun on a gigantic scale,
and did not end until the French power on this continent had been
crushed under the ruins of Quebec.”
With these words the doctor ended his remarks; and as it was now late,
the boys all retired to their respective rooms, where they passed the
remainder of the evening in study.
It usually takes several days for boys to settle down fairly to school
work at the beginning of any new term; and so, after this vacation, it
was some time before the school work could be fairly grappled with. The
remembrance of the events of the past days was strong in the minds of
all, and for a time prevented that application which was desirable. A
stronger effort than usual was required in order to force the mind to
its task, and a longer time was needed in order to master that task.
On the third day after the school had recommenced, the boys of the B.
O. W. C. were discussing the important question of the disposal of their
time for that afternoon. School was already over. The other boys had
scattered in different directions; some to the dike lands, some to the
fields, and some to the woods.
“Where shall we go, boys?” asked Bart.
“To the woods,” said Phil,
“To Gaspereaux,’ said Arthur.
“A game of cricket,’ said Tom.
“No, boys,” said Bruce; “let’s go down and see what’s become of the old
Antelope.”
“That’s the idea,” said Bart, “the glorious old Antelope. Let’s have one
last look at her. By this time, perhaps, she is half covered with mud.
It was a soft place, I think, where she was lying, and she will soon be
buried out of sight; so let’s have one final look at her before we lose
sight of her forever.”
This proposal was in the highest degree satisfactory to the other boys,
and soon they started down the road to the place where the Antelope
lay. On reaching the place, they found that it was high tide, and the
ill-fated schooner lay in the same place where they had seen her last,
far over on her side, with her masts pointing downward. The tide had
risen so high that it covered more than half of her, leaving only part
visible. The upper parts of her masts also were covered. At such a
melancholy spectacle the boys stood for some time in solemn silence.
Another schooner lay not far away, at a wharf, but they felt no
curiosity about her. All their thoughts were taken up with the Antelope.
“And so this is the end of her,’ said Bruce, solemnly.
“_Hic jacet_, as Captain Corbet said,’ remarked Phil.
“Who would have thought that her end was so near?” said Arthur.
“And think,” said Tom, “of the old craft, after escaping so many
perils, meeting her fate here at her own wharf.”
“It’s the old saying realized,” said Bart,--“the sailor shipwrecked
within sight of home.”
“But I say, Bart, she doesn’t seem to have sunk any deeper in the
mud--does she?” said Bruce.
“No,” said Bart. “I expected by this time that she would be as deep as
that in mud, not in water.”
“She’s afloat,” said Tom.
“No, she isn’t; she doesn’t move,” said Bruce.
“No; she’s perfectly steady, and fixed in the mud,” said Bart. “There’s
no floating, about her.”
“She’ll break up soon, I suppose,” said Phil.
“O, I don’t know,” said Bart. “If she were exposed to a heavy sea she
would; but here in this quiet harbor she will either sink altogether in
the mud, or else lie rotting away for years, a mournful and melancholy
spectacle.”
While the boys were looking thus sadly upon the schooner, a man emerged
from the cabin of the other vessel at the wharf, and going ashore,
proceeded as though on his way to the village. The boys did not notice
this man till he was close to them, and then there was a shout of joyful
recognition.
“Captain Pratt!”
Yes, that stout, bluff, red-faced, jovial captain stood there before
their eyes, evincing as much pleasure at the sight of them, as they did
at the sight of him. He wrung their hands heartily all round, laughing
all the time, and asking them how they got home, and whether they ran
ashore more than a dozen times in doing so.
“I come here,” said he, “arter taters. I got a tater freight to Boston,
and I’m goin to fill up right straight off. And it’s right glad I am to
see you all again. I thought mebbe I’d see some of you over here, and
come here instead of goin to another place where I could have got a
better freight.”
The captain was very voluble, very noisy, and very jolly. He made
all the boys come on board his vessel, and give an account of their
adventures after leaving him. They did so, and he listened with deep
attention, varied from time to time by peals of laughter.
“Wal, boys,” said he at last, “I’m a goin right straight off to Boston
as soon as I get my cargo in. Ain’t there any of you that wants to go?
I’ll take any of you, or all of you. Come now.”
The boys thanked him, but excused themselves, and explained that they
couldn’t go very easily, as the school had now begun, and they were all
hard at work at their studies.
“Sorry for that,” said Captain Pratt. “I’m too late, I see. Perhaps I’ll
have another chance with you. At any rate, I’ll promise you a better
vessel than the one you had on your cruise. Of all the old tubs--But
where is she now. Has Corbet got a tater freight?”
At this question the boys said nothing, but looked silently and with
melancholy glances over the stern to where the form of the Antelope was
half visible above the water. Captain Pratt saw their glances.
“What craft’s that there?” he asked.
“That,” said Bart, “is the gallant craft that you just asked about--the
one that we had in our cruise--the Antelope.”
“That!” cried Captain Pratt; and starting up, he walked astern, and took
a long look at the schooner. The boys followed him. They said nothing,
but looked at the Antelope along with Captain Pratt.