MARGARET GODFREY'S FAREWELL.
The widowed squaw and the two pale-faced women were the last to leave
Paul's late camping ground. As they were pushed off into the stream by
Jim Newall, who with another Indian paddled them back to the settlement,
Margaret saw the other canoes, nine in number, going up the river. In
the twilight she watched them, and it came to her mind that when Paul
Guidon saw the porpoises at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy coming toward
the sloop, he was not to be blamed for thinking they were canoes. She
remarked to Mrs. Fowler those canoes resemble, at first sight, porpoises
on the Atlantic Ocean.
When they arrived at the settlement Little Mag was taken to the home of
the Lesters. As she sat down in one of the small, unfurnished rooms, she
rested her head upon her hands and bitterly sobbed. Mrs. Godfrey tried
to comfort her, but she wept on. Little Mag said she felt badly at
leaving the wigwam. If she had stayed there her husband's spirit would
have come in the night and been with her. She would not see him but she
would know he was there. Indians always come back the night they are
buried to see their loved ones again before going off to the great
hunting grounds. After a time "Little Mag" fell asleep, and in her
dream, as she reclined on a bench, talked in an unknown tongue. Neither
Margaret nor any present could understand a word she uttered. She
appeared to be conversing with some invisible being, invisible, at
least, to the pale faces. It may have been that in that little room
there was sweet communion between the widowed squaw and her departed
husband. She said to Mrs Godfrey after she awoke that she thought she
saw her husband and heard him say, "Don't worry about Paul." "Happy
hunting grounds here." "See you far off." "Far beyond setting sun." He
appeared to be speaking to her out of the setting sun. He was surrounded
by a golden light, while he looked to be dressed in polished silver, and
when she awoke by falling on the floor, she had started to fling herself
into his arms, which were outstretched to receive her; but when her eyes
were opened all around her was darkness.[7]
[Footnote 7: See interpretation of the dream at close of Chapter.]
Soon after relating the above she retired to bed and in the morning
seemed refreshed and happy. She sang songs in the Chippewayan tongue
during the morning; her deep black eye became brighter; her step was
light and quick, and her whole frame seemed to move to silent music, so
regular, graceful and quick were her motions.
Who among us of earth knows but there are times in the lives of some of
us, if not all of us, when the silent influences of dear departed
friends, happy in the etherial or spirit world, unconsciously direct our
thoughts and guide our movements.
In a few days Margaret Godfrey was preparing to leave the settlement
and return to Halifax, and there make one more effort to secure some
compensation for her husband's losses on the St. John.
She invited "Little Mag" to give her the history of the ring. In reply,
"Little Mag" said her husband, Paul, had given it to her, and when he
presented it to her told her that it once belonged to the best pale face
woman he had ever seen in all his travels, that it was stolen from off
the pale face's finger, and some moons afterwards he had knocked down
the thief and taken it off his finger, one night far outside the British
lines at Quebec. The thief was a rebel who had nearly killed pale face
woman. About two weeks after Paul had knocked the rebel down, there was
a sharp sortie between some British soldiers and some Americans, and
during the fight, which ended in the repulse of the Americans, the
monkey-faced, cross-eyed rebel, "Will," was taken prisoner. He was a
great coward, and acknowledged to her husband that he had taken the ring
off pale face woman's finger. Her husband told her to keep the ring till
pale face woman saw it. That pale face woman has arrow mark on right arm
above joint. Here Margaret Godfrey pulled up her sleeve and showed the
little squaw the arrow mark received by her at Fort Frederick, in 1770.
"Little Mag's" full brown-face lit up with an innocent smile as she
pulled the precious gem off her own finger and placed it in the hand of
Mrs. Godfrey, at the same time saying, "I know you the pale face who
lost ring." Margaret took the ring put it on her own finger and thanked
"Little Mag" for it.
The Chippewayan widow then took from a pocket in her blue skirt, a
small case and handed it to Margaret Godfrey, who opened it and took
from it a neck-lace of beads mounted with gold. A small gold cross was
attached. "Little Mag" said the neck-lace was given to her by officers
at Quebec when she was married, and Paul had given her the cross at the
same time. She had married Paul when he was visiting among her tribe,
when she was sixteen years old. When they came to Quebec the officers
were very good to them. They gave her plenty of good clothes because
they liked her husband so much.
Paul got sick while hunting with officers last winter. She was with them
and cooking in camp. In early spring left the officers and came down to
St. John River, in May, and built wigwam near his mother's grave. He got
no better, but worse, growing thinner and weaker, with great cough.
"What 'Little Mag' do now my Paul gone?" "I know you good woman will ask
Great Chief to help me go home to my tribe, there live and die. My
little papoose, Paul, dead, sleeps near Quebec, died when few moons
old."
The information in Chapter nine respecting Paul Guidon's career after
leaving Halifax in 1776, was obtained from a document pasted in the back
of the old service book, and written at Paul's request by a Lieutenant
of the British Army stationed at Quebec in the year 1780.
Mrs. Godfrey left Parr Town late in the fall of 1784 for Halifax, and
soon after sailed from the latter place for England. Her mission to
Halifax and the St. John had been a failure. She could get no promise
that her husband's property would be restored to him, or that any
compensation would be granted him in lieu thereof.
As the brigt. in which Margaret Godfrey took passage sailed out of
Chebucto Harbour, she remarked to the captain that people who attempt to
settle in a new colony would do well before leaving comfortable homes in
the old land to find out what protection is guaranteed settlers, and
what class of persons they are likely to settle among. And as she cast a
last look upon the colony, as she entered the companion way to the
cabin, she pointed her hand toward the shore, remarking, "my husband and
I came out to this land in very comfortable circumstances fifteen years
ago; to-day, without a penny to call my own, I leave the colony
forever." The vessel ran across the ocean in thirty-six days, and Mrs.
Godfrey was once again on English soil.
Nothing having been accomplished in Nova Scotia by his wife's visit,
Captain Godfrey once more made an attempt for relief to the Lords of
Parliament at home.
After the close of the American war, a commission was appointed by
Parliament with power to inquire into the losses and services of the
Loyalists in America. Captain Godfrey, as has been stated in a previous
chapter, had put his case before many commissions, before Lords many. To
use a common expression, "his case had gone the rounds." And now, as a
last effort, he was about to present his claims before the Lord
Commissioner of Losses and Services of the American Loyalists. In his
memorial the captain stated to the Lords Commissioners, his services as
a soldier to the time of settling in the colony, concluding with giving
in detail the losses he had sustained on the River St. John, in His
Majesty's Colonial possession, by the cruel and savage acts of Indians
and rebels. He also stated in his memorial that he could have joined the
service of Mr. Washington, and that great inducements were held out to
him to do so, and to desert the cause of his king and his country. The
memorial concluded as follows:
"Your memorialist therefore, humbly prays, that his cause may be taken
into consideration, and that he may be granted such relief, as in the
benevolence of His Majesty King George the Third's Commissioners, his
losses and services may be found to deserve, and that he and the
subjoined witnesses may have a hearing from your Honourable Board."
Witnesses:
THOMAS BRIDGE, ESQ., }
No. 2 Bridge Street, Surry Side } To Property.
}
MR. BARTLEY, }
Delzex Court, near the Temple. }
GENERAL SKEIN, } To Service.
GENERAL MURRAY. }
SIR GUY CARLETON, } To Loyalty.
BROOK WATSON. }
(Here follows the signature of the petitioner.)
No. 2 Pratt Street, Lambeth.
As far as can be gathered from documentary evidence, and what
information could be obtained otherwise, no relief was ever granted to
Captain Godfrey or his family by the Commission of Losses and Services
of the American Loyalists. Mrs. Godfrey, whose many trials, hardships,
disappointments and sorrows, have been sketched in the foregoing
chapters, was living in London as late as 1805. A letter written by the
old lady to her son Charlie's wife, then living in Nova Scotia, was for
a few hours in the possession of the writer of these chapters. In this
letter she states her many difficulties and the numerous applications on
her part to various Lords and other authorities seeking relief in her
distress. Many portions of the long, well written letter are touching
indeed.
The persistency of the grand old lady in doing her utmost to force the
rulers of the country to a settlement of her husband's claims is greatly
to be admired. Her letter cannot be read by any colonist without
feelings of pity and shame. In one part of the letter she says
Councillor Brand[8] has given in my memorial to the treasury and I have
to wait till he gets an answer, and I pray God it will be a happy one,
but God knows what is best, and will, if we put all our trust in him,
guide us aright. The cursed Duke of Richmond is not dead yet.[9]
[Footnote 8: It will be remembered that Mrs. Godfrey was an Irish
woman.]
[Footnote 9: What was the cause of her animosity to this noble Duke, the
writer does not know.]
Mrs. Godfrey must have been near eighty years of age when this letter
was written. Thirty-five years had elapsed since her husband's first
loss in the colony, and nearly thirty years since he was driven out by
rebels and Indians.
Titles and pensions have been freely bestowed by English kings and
parliaments on men who have been daring and successful in Britain's
cause. If Captain Godfrey had performed no deeds worthy of a title or a
pension, he at least deserved to be reimbursed in part or in whole for
the losses he had sustained at the hands of rebels and savages. And it
is probable there were men and women in England who were styled Dukes
and Duchesses,--who wore orders on their breasts that covered less brave
and no more loyal hearts than those of Capt. and Margaret Godfrey. She
firmly supported and assisted her husband in his strict adherence to
King George the Third's cause, and faced the rebels like a Spartan and
defeated them in their designs at Grimross. Her tact, skill, courage and
cool determination in the midst of imminent danger were truly admirable.
She displayed the qualities of a born leader time and time again. In a
situation where she could seek no support she relied on her own
judgment, courage and faith. These sterling qualities brought to her aid
one who afterward proved to be a friend and guide. Alone at Fort
Frederick she defeated the designs of blood-thirsty savages by stepping
out of the Fort and standing unmoved and defiant amid a flight of
arrows. Her commanding presence and firm attitude won a savage to her
side. We can entertain no better wish for the memory of this Celtic
heroine, than that her name may be preserved, and her life and deeds in
the colony go down to the latest generation.
"Justin McCarthy in his concise and interesting work, Ireland's cause in
England's Parliament," says: "There is a charming poem by my friend
William Allingham, called Lawrence Bloomfield in Ireland," in which we
find a classic story, thrillingly told, as an illustration of the hero's
feeling on some subject of interest to his country. A Roman Emperor is
persecuted by the petition of a poor widowed woman, who prays for
redress of some wrong done to her and her children. The great emperor is
far too great, his mind is taken up too much with questions of imperial
interest, to have any leisure for examining into, or even for reading,
this poor woman's claim.
One morning he is riding forth of his palace gates, at the head of his
splendid retinue, and the widow comes in his way, right in his path, and
holds up her petition again, and implores him to read it. He will not
read, and is about to pass scornfully on, when she flings herself on the
ground before him, herself and her little children, just in front of his
horse's hoofs, and she declares that if he will not stay and hear her
prayer, he shall not pass on his way unless he passes over the bodies of
herself and children.
And then says Mr. Allingham, "the Roman," who must have had something of
the truly imperial in him, "wheeled his horse and heard."
Margaret Godfrey, the poor widowed woman, took up the petition of her
husband, and continued to pray for redress of wrong done her husband,
herself, and her children. For twenty years she continued in her prayer.
Read what the poor widowed woman says in another part of her letter to
her daughter-in-law, and see if the truly imperial is to be found in a
King or in England's noblemen, who for twenty years "heard and wheeled."
"I have been sick all winter and not able to help myself, and am very
ill at present. My illness has almost turned me, but if I had but half a
leg I'll do my duty toward my family."
In another letter written to her daughter-in-law not long after the
first, she says: "Tell Charles if he ever visits the mouth of the St.
John or old Fort Frederick, not to neglect for his mother's sake to
visit the grave of Paul Guidon. He knows the locality and may be able to
detect the spot where the hero sleeps. In my thoughts, God knows how
often I linger about that spot. Sacred indeed must be the earth that
mingles with the dust of such nobility. Were I present I would adorn his
last resting place with the early spring flowers. Many wintry storms
have passed above his grave. Spring time and summer have come and gone,
but he heeds them not.
"I feel that I am nearing the border land, and as I cross the stream I
believe I shall meet my husband and also my other protector standing
together on the shore to welcome me home, to a home where friends never
fail and where justice is administered in the highest perfection.
"It is my living desire, and by the blessing of God it shall be my dying
desire, to meet beyond on the fields of glory Paul Guidon and my dear
husband. No Briton ever lived who was more loyal to his King and
country, and trusted more fully in the honour of earthly Lords than
Charles Godfrey.
"It may be that I shall bye and by find Paul Guidon's name inscribed in
brighter characters on the columns that support the arches of the
heavens, than the names of some to whom my husband applied on earth for
redress of wrong.
"One of Briton's statesmen lately said, 'It is easy for my Lord C. or
Earl G. or Marquis B. or Lord H. with thousands upon thousands a year,
some of it either presently derived or inherited in sinecure
acquisitions from the public money to boast of their patriotism, and
keep aloof from temptation, but they do not know from what temptation
those have kept aloof who had equal pride, at least equal talents, and
not unequal passions, and nevertheless knew not in the course of their
lives what it was to have a shilling of their own, and in saying this he
wept.
"And so have I, a thousand times in silence wept, as the utmost energy
of my life has been exerted to cheer, to comfort and to encourage a
weeping heart-broken husband weighed down with misfortunes and poverty."
The grave has long ago closed over every member of the Godfrey family
who were among the English pioneer settlers of Acadia, and the history
of their lives might have slept with them, but for a trifling
circumstance. The old documents referred to and copied in the foregoing
chapters, are greatly defaced, and time is completing their destruction.
Many of them are scarcely legible, and it required the utmost patience
and perseverance to gather together the facts as narrated in this work.
* * * * *
LITTLE MAG'S DREAM AS INTERPRETED BY ONE OF THE LESTERS.
As the little widow narrated her dream to one of the Misses Lester, the
latter understood it to be something like the following: Mag saw a vast
land with wooded hills and dales, green fields, lakes and rivers. Her
departed husband was quickly crossing over all these toward the setting
sun. He sped over the lakes and rivers in his canoe, and when he
emerged from among the trees, his bow and arrow hung across his
shoulder, over the open country he travelled in his moccasins, with the
old flag wrapped tightly about his breast and shoulders. At length he
approached the setting sun, where she lost sight of him for a moment,
the darkness that had gradually settled down, shutting out from her view
the passage of her husband, quick as a flash burst into a beautiful
crystal light. The heavens looked like shining silver, all around the
horizon was a wide cloud of clear light blue, with a border of gold.
Beneath was a broad expanse of green, with large groves of trees at
regular intervals dressed in a deeper shade. Through these were
meandering streams or rivers as of clear glass. Clear cut avenues ran
through at regular spaces from stream to stream, on the borders of which
(avenues and rivers) were thousands of jasper wigwams, sitting and
standing, at the front of each were Indians of all ages, dressed in pure
white and ornamented with precious stones of various hues. Rising above
the blue border of the sky, slowly and majestically, a new sun was
beaming. On its face stood Paul Guidon, in a dress of glistening
whiteness. The dress was after the pattern of that of an Indian chief.
Out of his right shoulder rose a red cross slanting slightly outward, on
the top of which stood an angel slightly inclining foreward. In his
right hand he held a wreath made of flowers most pure and white, inside
of which in letters of light blue, was the word Love. Out of his left
shoulder, in the same direction, rose a staff of deep blue, to which was
attached a drooping silver flag crossed with bars of gold. (Its pattern
was like the one placed in his grave.) On the top of the staff rested a
dove, holding in its beak a wreath, composed of rainbow shades, circling
the word Peace in letters whiter than snow. As the new sun continued to
rise, the jewelled sky increased in dazzling brilliancy, ten thousand
gems of shining gold shot out, and ten thousand sapphires too, all
glistening gloriously in the new light. The jasper tents on the
everlasting hunting grounds, and the motionless streams were brightning
with living flame. Thousands of Indians, strong and fair, in countless
groupings, seemed, to surpass even the sky itself in their glittering
starry dress.
Paul Guidon appeared to move his head forward as the star-paved sky
increased in burning brightness, till overpowered by the lustre shining,
and dazzled by the increasing brilliancy. Little Mag fell to the floor
and awoke in the darkened room. As she was in the act of falling the
faint sound of distant music, mingled with the noise of far away rushing
waters, seemed to fall upon her ears, increasing in strength and melody
as she touched the floor.
If Milman's lines had been written or known at the time of Mag's dream,
they could have been most suitably recited.
"From all the harping throng
Bursts the tumultuous song,
Like the unceasing sound of cataracts pouring,
Hosanna o'er hosanna louder roaring.
That faintly echoing down to earthly ears,
Hath seemed the concert sweet of the harmonious spheres."