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FIvANAGAN, PUBI,ISHBR. /<ff^ - 1 'U ad")!)? Copyrighted 1898 BY A. FLANAGAN. TWDCOnCS RECEIVED* vf. J w bv i^'^ 9* CONTENTS. Introductory CHAPTER I. POBT AND POBTRY 7 CHAPTER n. DiSCOVKRY AND SETTLEMENT JQ CHAPTER in. Sbtti,bmbnts and Disturbances 17 CHAPTER IV. The Exhb ■-.... 23 , "CHAPT^R*^. ' • ■ The Acadian Land - • . . .. . . .28 CHAPTER VI. The Successors - ^^''- - t 35 CHAPTER VII. The Successors.— Continued ^ -41 CHAPTER VIII. The Acadians and Acadian Reucs • . . . . 49 CHAPTER IX. The Indians - 52 Notes and References • - • •. . .. 57 EVANGBUNE, the PoBM . .. .-. . . (H yr INTRODUCTORY. In presenting this little book, the author believes that he is not encroaching on a field already well stocked with literature. He knows of no book written for the same purpose as this little volume. It is intended as a helper to the reader of "Evangeline," and to anyone desirous of learning more of Acadia and its story than the ordinary text book of the poem can furnish. A complete history of Nova Scotia is not attempted. Only the thread of its earlier history is given in order to trace its most important events down to the Exile and the "occupation." Longfellow's line "Dwells another race with other customs and language," is very suggestive, and forms the "text" for the sixth and seventh chapters. Is that "other race" the people of Nova Scotia as they are today? We think not; and we believe that the older generation, now fast passing away, will agree with us. The people of today have the sturdy character, the honesty and integrity of their fnreffither»»; but when we add to these the intercourse with the outside world, rapid transit, the army of modern inventions, and the growing advantages of education and government, we have a people difiPering from their ancestors in many respects. No attempt has been made to give a biographical sketch of Longfellow; that can be found in any volume on American Literature. Special attention is given to the Cornwallis Valley, which was the valley of the Acadians and the scene of the poem. Indebtedness to Willoughby's "Land of the Mayflower," Campbell's "School History of Nova Scotia," Houghton, Mifflin & Go's "American Poems" and F. H. Eaton's article on "Bay of Fundy Tides and Marshes," is hereby gratefully acknowledged by Thb Author. 1 CHAPTER I. Poet and Poetry. To the end of time the early history of America will be read with interest ; not only on account of the deeds of bravery, fortitude, endurance and heroism ; not only for the great enter- prises that with such small beginnings resulted in nations ; not only for those principles involved that underlie the very existence of those nations ; but also for the many true tales of jrjy and sorrow, romance and tragedy, success aad failure, hap- piness and despair, life and death, fortune and misfortune, that are woven into it and therefore inseparable from it. Many of these tales are lost to us or are passed by historians with but a word of mention. Here and there one of these incidents is brought to light by the mind and pen of historian or poet, a Parkman or a Longfel- low. Had the poem of Evangeline never been written , how little would we know or learn of the story of the Acadian people. What hours we use with pleasure and profit in reading and studying that ever interesting poem. Why do we prefer the poem rather than the brief ac90unt given in our histories? Because the writer was a poet, and poets write poetry. Rhyme is not poetry. Harmonious verse is not poetry. Coleridge says "Poetry is the art of reproducing in words external nature and human thoughts and affections." The true poet finds sweet music and pathos in common things, as the ticking of a clock or the flight of a waterfowl. Poetry results from a just observation of human life — its hopes, affections, aspira- tions and ideals. The last is probably the most important, for the poet deals in the ideal more than the real. Our (7) ,;•;«£- ■,.■ r • SVANGBI.INB. dictionary tells us that an idcnl is a conception proposed by the mind for imitation, realization or attainment; a standard or model of perfection or duty. It is to be attained by selecting and assembling in one whole the beauties and perfections which are usually seen in different individuals, excluding everything defective or unseemly, so as to form a type or model. Long- fellow wrote "The Old Clock on the Stairs." The old clock which he had in mind stood in "the old-fashioned country seat," which was the old Craigee House in Cambridge, once used by Washington as his headquarters. Our highest and best ideal is Heaven. We read these words in the ninth stanza of the poem mentioned : "Never here, forever there. Where all parting, pain and care. And death and time shall disappear Forever there, but never here." Can we form a higher or nobler ideal than that contained in the above? In "The Bridge " there is an ideal which can be readily found. "The ni<x>n rose over the city " of Boston, " Behind the dark church tower." , And that dark church tower was on the old North Church, the tower Paul Revere watched so eagerly on that memorable night of the 18th of April, 1775. In " Paul Revere " we find a grand and heroic ideal. Let us look for these ideals as we read. We will find them well worth the search. There are ideals in the poem of Evangeline. Have we found them? Everyone, young or old, who has any wish for advancement, any ambition, any desire for something better than that now possessed by him, has an ideal. It may be crude and we may not be aware of its existence, but it is with us at all times unless it be realized. We know that it is what we strive to gain and not what we have. Whj pure seek It by K story ofth betw shou decis Perh Tom L ized amor It. tives they his U selecl N was ( "Art on proposed by the nt; a standard or :aincd by selecting d perfections which eluding everything or model. Long- s." The old clock -fashioned country n Cambridge, once Our highest and in the ninth stanza ear that contained in ideal which can be ioston, North Church, the 1 that memorable il Revere" we find these ideals as we learch. There are we found them? I for advancement, Iter than that now crude and we may th us at all times what we strive to KVANOKLINK. 9 " For two ideals I itrove with eager quest. The first I lo»t,— iiiul why ? 'Twas realized. The ather, unpoMcswd, Stays witli tiie till I die." Why should we not strive for something higher, better and purer? Many strive for riches. If we choose this ideal, let us seek the true riches, for " The riclu.'S of the comuion wealth Arc free, strong minds and hearts of health. And more to her than gold or gain The cunning hand and cultured brain." It is said that the story of Evangeline was told to Longfellow by Hawthorne, who at one time contemplated writing a prose story based on the Uxile, It is further stated that the heroine of the original story was named Gabrielle. After a consultation between these two authors it was decided that Longfellow should make it the theme of a poem. We do not regret the decision. The poem has been translated into many languages. Perhaps in this respect it stands next to the Bible and Uncle Tom's Cabin. Longfellow and his works are known through all the civil- ized world. He was given a place in Westminster Abbey among the greatest men of the English-speaking people. Many years ago at a social gathering in Italy, representa- tives of six different nations met. During their conversativ,n they agreed that each should select and recite a quotation from his favorite author. They did so, and strange to relate, every selection given was from Longfellow. Not long ago a Technological Institute costing over $400,000 was erected in England. On its lintel are carved thesQ words: "Art is long and time is fleeting." CHAPTER II. Discovery and Settlement. The history of North America before the coming of the white man will ever be comparatively unknown to us. The beauties of mountain, valley, forest and shore were seen only by wild men and wild beasts. No human voice was heard save that of the barbarian as he met his foe in a death grapple, or chanted his weird songs of war, hunting or superstitious rites. But the change came. A.cross the ocean sailed the little vessels of the Norsemen, the Genoese and the English, followed closely by the French. They brought with them the civiliza- tion of the old world and sowed its seed on new ground. The seed thrived in this new soil even better than in the old, and from that day to the present a conflict has heen waged steadily here between civilization and barbarism, between freedom and oppression, between liberty and slavery. The results have been tremendous for the good of mankind ; but while the plan was divine the instruments were but human, and consequently we find here and there blots upon the record. Previous to the year 1000, the hardy Norsemen had seen the shores of North America and perhaps made temporary settlements. In 1492 came Columbus, a native of Genoa, under Spanish patronage. His was accepted as the real discovery, as it was the first to be followed by permanent settlement. He was soon followed by others, and among the first of these was Americus Vespucius, who received the honor of having the country named for him. In justice it should have been called Columbia. In 1497 the Cabots sailed from England with a commission from Henry VII, three-hundred men, and a fleet of five ships and two caravels. They discovered lands to the (10) . '4 ENT. the coming of the known to us. The lore were seen only voice was heard save 1 a death grapple, or »r superstitious rites, an sailed the little he English, followed h them the civiliza- n new ground. The :han in the old, and heen waged steadily letween freedom and The results have ; but while the plan in, and consequently rd. Norsemen had seen aps made temporary itive of Genoa, under ;he real discovery, as ent settlement. He he first of these was lonor of having the aid have been called om England with a red men, and a fleet covered lands to the 12 EVANGELINB. westward, which from their rude maps are supposed to have been Nova Scotia, Cape Breton Island and Newfoundland. They then sailed farther to the west and reached the mainland. They sailed again and northward to 67° 30', then south as far as Florida. They then returned to England on account of scarcity of provisions and mutiny among the crews. For many years the English made no attempt to follow up the discoveries of the Cabots by actual settlements. Under Queen Elizabeth enterprise was awakened. With a patent for "discovering, occupying and peopling heathen and barbarous countries," Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed with an expedition from England in 1 583. After a voyage of one month he arrived at Newfoundland, which he took formal possession of. After remaining there for some time he decided to go to Sable Island and re-stock his larder before taking his long voyage home- ward. Captain Hays of the sole surviving vessel wrote as fol- lows: ' 'Sable lieth to the seaward of Cape Breton, about 45°, whither we were determined to go upon intelligence we had of a Portingall during our abode in St. John's, who was also himself present when the Portingalls, about thirty years past, did put into the same island both neat and swine to breed, which were since exceedingly multiplied." In a dense mist and rain, with a high wind, they neared this bleak land, by later mariners named "The graveyard of the North Atlantic," on account of the great number of wrecks on its shoals and sand bars. Here Gilbert lost one vessel and one-hundred men by shipwreck. Escaping from the dangers of Sable Island, he encountered a fearful gale on the Grand Banks, and but one vessel survived to tell to England that the heroic Admiral hailed them during the storm, saying that "Heaven was as near by sesi as by land," and soon after, standing by the helm, sorely wounded in his foot, and Bible in hand, went down beneath the waves. [Sec note at end of this chapter.] In ed a \ died £ posse: of Sir found of its In early purpo Verra nent f Fear 1 river ! and E plored Franc reach nizatit swine 1538 t the ne that it prepat he left horses ponies quis i Frano Canad gions. as col Island '""UIWWSSII!, 5WB»» ^,fimjmnmtimm«iamim> ' » 'ti-^Siife, supposed to have tid Newfoundland, ched the mainland. , then south as far and on account of 2 crews. tempt to follow up ettlements. Under With a patent for hen and barbarous tvith an expedition le month he arrived issession of. After go to Sable Island long voyage home- vessel wrote as fol- Breton, about 45°, illigence we had of a ho was also himself years past, did put > breed, which were mist and rain, with by later mariners tic," on account of d sand bars. Here nen by shipwreck, d, he encountered a ,e vessel survived to ed them during the >y sea as by land," ;ly wounded in his ;h the waves. [Sec EVANGELINE. 13 In 1607 Sir John Gilbert, brother of Sir Humphrey, plant- ed a weak colony within what is now the state of Maine. He died soon after, and the colony was broken up. The formal possession taken by Sir Humphrey and the actual settlement of Sir John, added to the discoveries of the Cabots, formed the foundation of the claim of the crown of England to the whole of its possessions in North America. In the meantime the French had been active. At a very early period adventurers had visited North America for the purpose of taking possession of it for the crown of France. Verrazani, in 1524, sailed along the eastern coast of the conti- nent from a point one hundred and fifty miles south of Cape Fear to New England. In 1534 Cartier explored the gulf and river St. Lawrence. Cape Breton was known to both French and English before Nova Scotia was. The French first ex- plored it, and it probably received its na'me from the Bretons of France. The French were probably the first, after Cabot, to reach Nova Scotia, and they were the first to attempt its colo- nization. We have already found that the Portuguese left swine and cattle on Sable Island. This was about 1505. In 1538 the Baron de Lery attempted to plant a French colony in the new world, but incessant storms so delayed the expedition that it arrived off the coast too late in the season to land and prepare for winter. To lighten his vessel for the return voyage he left his cattle on Sable Island. With these were several horses or ponies, from which have sprung the hardy, shaggy ponies that still run wild on its sand dunes. In 1598 the Mar- quis de la Roche was granted letters patent by Henry IV of France, giving him power over the "islands and countries of Canada, Sable Island, Newfoundland, and the adjacent re- gions." Forty convicts from the royal prisons were given him as colonists. He decided to leave his colonists upon Sable Island until he had selected and prepared a place for his settle- 14 BVANGBUNB. r ment. Immediately after leaving the island a great and long continued storm arose, which drove his vessel so far eastward that he decided to return to France. In 1603 the king sent a vessel to bring the convicts back. Twelve out of the forty were alive. They were taken to France, where each received a full pardon and fifty golden crowns. Old Euthworks at AnnapoUs (Port RoyalX "Wben as a captive I lay In the old French fort at Port Royal."— Line 308. In the year 1604 De Monts, who had been appointed gover nor general of New France, came with an expedition to make a settlement. After narrowly escaping shipwreck on the "Graveyard of the North Atlantic," he succe^ed in planting his colony in the well chosen spot where the town of Annapolis now stands. This was the Port Royal of the French. After establishing his colony De Monts sailed along the coast, ex- plored his territory, traded with the Indians and made them his friends. The English who settled Jamestown, Virginia, in 1607, learning of the French settlement and considering it within the limits of their charter, fitted out an expedition un der the Royal i mission pillage ground! tory. France, own req rates, ai his cone Sabl dred ten long an formed I most of grass. Sable Is: Its great that swe lent on t tains tw( ication \i stormy i means c man can pieces oi ever shif Befoi was freqi on the sli these wr r "^f a great and long 1 so far eastward > the king sent a out of the forty re each received a SVANOBUNB. 15 ptive I lay In the old appointed gover- cpedition to make lipwreck on the eeded in planting own of Annapolis e French. After ig the coast, ex and made then ;own, Virginia, in ad considering it in expedition un der the command of Sir Samuel Argall, and attacked Port Royal in 1613. It was easily taken. ArgaU found the com- mission from the French king and concealed it, that he might pillage the town and treat the inhabitants as pirates, on the grounds that they had no authority for occupying the terri- tory. Not having sufficient vessels in which to return to France, some of the French accompanied Sir Samuel, at his own request, to Jamestown, where they were imprisoned as pi- rates, and only escaped execution by Sir Samuel's admission of his concealment of the French royal commission. NOTBS. Sable Island belongs to Nova Scotia and is about one hun- dred ten miles S. E. of Halifax. It is about twenty-five miles long and one mile wide. Its surface consists of sand hills formed by action of wind and water. There are no trees, but most of its surface is covered with a growth of long, rank grass. There is a lake of considerable size on the island. Sable Island is feared and shunned by mariners at all times. Its great dangers are its extensive shoals, the ocean currents that sweep around it, and the thick fogs which are so preva- lent on the surrounding waters. The government now main- tains two lighthouses and a life saving station here. Commun- ication with the island by boat is almost impossible during the stormy months, but an exchange of messages is effected by means of carrier pigeons. A cable is contemplated. No man can tell the number of ships that have been beaten to pieces on its shoals and bars, and buried in its treacherous and ever shifting sands. Before the government established a station there, the isUnd was frequented by piratical wreckers who sought the spoil cast on the shore from the wrecks. Terrible stories were told of these wreckers. It is said that survivors who reached the 16 BVANGBUNB. shore from wrecks were murdered for their jewelry or valua- bles. Sailors still tell of the ghost of a lady which walks the shores of the island just before a storm, and holds up a bleed- ing hand to show that a finger was severed to obtain a rii^ she wore. It was near this island that the Bourgogne went down in 1898. SABLE ISLAND. " Dark Isle of Mourning, aptly art thou named. For thou hast been the cause of many a tear; For deeds of treacherous strife too justly famed, The Atlantic's Charnel, desolate and drear, A thing none love, though wand 'ring thousands fear; If for a moment rests the Muse's wing Where through the waves thy sandy wastes appear, 'Tis that she may one strain of horror sing, Wild as the dashing waves that tempests o'er thee fling." In was c£ Acadis Brunsi Frencl lived t; indicat or sea word C quodd} place In I all the of St. J Scotlac withS< Sir Sai settlem strengt ceeded govenw the ord furnish But few Scotch ( opposite stands. jewelry or valua- which walks the holds up a bleed- 1 to obtain a rii^ le went down in named, tear; famed, ;ar, ousands fear; stes appear, ag, J o'er thee fling. " CHAPTER III. • SBTTLEMBNTS AND DISTURBANCES. In the oldest records Acadia is called Cadie. Afterwards it was called by various writers Accadia, L'Acadie, Acadie and Acadia. Acadia under the French included Nova Scotia New Brunswick and a part of Maine. The name is probably the French adaptation of a common word of the Micmac Indians who lived there, and signifies place or region. Used as a suffix it mdicated the place where various things, such as berries, eels or seals were found in abundance. The French called this word Cadie or Acadie; the English called it Quoddv. Passama- quoddy means the place of pollocks. Shubenacadie means the place of ground nuts. In the year 1601 , James I. granted to Sir William Alexander all the territory lying between the river St. Croix and the Gulf of St. tawrence. The country was named Nova Scotia (New Scotland) in the grant. Sir William intended to colonize it with Scotch emigrants, but failed in his attempt to do so. As Sir Samuel Argall's conquest was not followed up by actual settlement, the French had regained possession, and had been strengthened by arrivals from France. Charles I., who sue- ceeded King James, reappointed Sir William Alexander as governor general of Nova Scotia, in 1624. He also founded the order of Knights Baronet of Nova Scotia, who were to furnish colonists, and receive therefor 16,000 acres of land each But few, if any of them, ever received their land. A party of Scotch emigrants landed at Port Royal and built a fort on the opposite side of the basin where the town of Granville now stands. The remains of this work are still called ' 'The Scotch I 18 KVANGEUNE. Fort." In 1632, when the English were getting well established in the country, King Charles I., by the treaty of St. Germains, ceded the whole of Nova Scotia and Canada to the King of France. Again in full possession of the French, Acadia received a French governor and many settlers. This governor, Isaac de Razilly, died and was succeeded by Chamise. While the French officers were quarrelling about their several claims, an English fleet, sent out by Cromwell, easily conquered them, and again the country was in English hands. In 1667 it was again ceded to the French. For twenty-three years Acadia remained French. During all these changes the French settlers had never completely deserted Nova Scotia, butt the colonists received little aid or attention from their govern- ment during this period following the treaty of 1667. The English colony in Massachusetts was growing rapidly, and soon made ready a strong force, under Sir William Phipps, to attack Acadia. They captured Port Royal and two smaller posts; dismantled the forts and returned to Massachusetts. The Acadians at Port Royal, with no fort or garrison, were soon visited by pirates who set fire to houses, killed their cattle, hanged some of the people, and burned one family after shut- ting them in their house. A new commander, Villabon, came from France, found the town unprotected, and decided to land the stores brought by his vessel at the French fort on the St. John river in New Brunswick. On his way to that place pirates captured his vessel, and he barely escaped with his life. He received aid from the Indians and renewed their friendship for the French. William and Mary of England gave a new charter to Ma38- achusetts, and included in it the colony of New Plymouth, the province of Maine and Nova Scotia with the intervening lands. Villabon ralUed the French and Indians at the fort on the St. John, and with this force captured Pemaquid, a fortification in mmmmmmmmmmmmmf^' New hnndr many churcl In of Ry broke came, lander cames a thou were r attack came i to rem ever, i They( they ii to brit tempts Nova Utrect honor Foi tacks 1 were s to the burg V Frencl difficul Utrech thousa leaders 'm^-' I BVANGKLINB. 19 g well established of St. Germains, a to the King of French, Acadia This governor, hamise. ling about their Cromwell, easily n English hands. For twenty-three hese changes the Nova Scotia, but) om their govern- y of 1667. The rapidly, and soon Fhipps, to attach ro smaller posts; sachusetts. The rrison, were soon illed their cattle, family after shut- r, Villabon, came d decided to land :h fort on the St. ray to that place iped with his life, d their friendship ' charter to Maas- :w Plymouth, the intervening lands. le fort on the St. , a fortification in New England. To avenge this, Colonel Church, with five hundred men, sailed from Boston and ravaged the country at many points on and near the Bay of Fundy. They burned churches and houses, killed the cattle, and cut the dykes. In 1696 Nova Scotia was restored to France by the treaty of Ryswick. Trouble arose over the fisheries. War again broke out. The French called the pirates to their aid. They came, and with the goods thus wrested from the New Eng. landers the French paid their Indian allies. Colonel Church came again in 1 704 , and again the country was ravaged. In 1 707 a thousand men from New England attacked Port Royal, but were repulsed and forced to reembark. Again they landed and attacked, but were again defeated. In 1710 another expedition came under General Nicholson, and this time Port Royal fell, lo remain in the possession of the English. The French, how- ever, made many efforts to drive out their hereditary enemies. They endeavored to preserve the loyalty of the French settlers, they incited the Indians to attack the English, they attempted to bring help from Quebec and France, and at least three at- tempts were made to recapture Port Royal. But all in vain. Nova Scotia was finally ceded to England by the treaty of Utrecht in 1713. Port Royal was now named Annapolis in honor of Queen Anne. For many years few settlers came, on account of fear of at- tacks by the French and Indians. Canada and Cape Breton were still French, and from the latter place came aid and trade to the Acadians, and assaults upon English settlers. Louis- burg was taken by an English force, but given back to the French in 1748 by treaty of Aix la Chapelle. Old boundary difficulties now arose; the French claiming that the treaty of Utrecht ceded only the peninsula to England. In 1749 two thousand five hundred seventy-six settlers arrived under the leadership of Edward Cornwallis. They selected a site, and I I i I I found Halifi Indiai nijssii Kubmi younj of seti Louis and p and a totak still h tainly chang ill Ca take f Englii mout four Corn\ rewar In Frenc inn; Indiai ernor thous lodge near 1 a six 1. that BVANOBLINH. 21 founded the city of Halifax, named in honor of the Earl of Halifax, who had assisted the expedition. The French and Indians visited the settlers at Halifax, and tendered their sub- mission to the English authorities. Notwithstanding this submission, the Indians, probably assisted by some of the younger Acadians, attacked the town by night, and a number of settlers were killed in the forests or captured and sold at Louisburg. The governor of Halifax, to prevent these attacks and protect the outlying settlements, built a fort at Windsor and a blockhouse at Horton. He then called on the Acadians to take the oath of allegiance to the British crown. They still hoped for the French supremacy in Acadia, and they cer- tainly had reasons to expect it after the many preceding changes of ownership, and the repeated assurances of the French ill Canada and Louisburg. In consequence they refused to take the oath, but again announced their submission to the English. The Indians remained actively hostile. At Dart- mouth, a settlement on the opposite side of Halifax harbor, four men were killed and scalped, and others carried off. Cornwallis organized parties to hunt the savages, and offered a reward of ten guineas for every Indian scalp. In order to strengthen their claim as to the boundary, the French built Fort Beau Sejour on the isthmus. Major Lawrence, in 1750, was sent to the isthmus and defeated the French and Indians. In 1752 Cornwallis returned to England, and Gov- ernor Hobson was sent out as his successor. In 1755 three thousand men under Monckton and Winslow were sent to dis- lodge the French. Beau Sejour and Oaspereaux, another post near by, were taken, and the garrisons sent to Louisburg under a six months' parole. NOTSS: 1. Arcadia was the only southern state of ancient Greece that had no sea coast. It was one of the most picturesque "^M-- :^«W«tWW(ft' •«■"*»' ■' 22 BVANGBUNB. regions of Greece, and perhaps of the world. Lake, mountains streams, forests, meadows, fountains, glens and caves were there. Without seaports, people are not commercial. Th inhabitants, therefore, were hunters and shepherds, quiet and peaceful, given to music and dancing. In modern languages the term Arcadian means either beauty of natural scenery or rusticity of manners. While the Acadians may have been Arcadian in their manners, they did not live in Arcadia an( were not Arcadians. If the name Arcadia was used by some early writers, it was an error caused by the similarity of the names, 2. The peninsula of Nova Scotia is connected to New Brunswick by an isthmus twelve miles wide. The peninsula is separated from. Cape Breton Island, which is a part of the province, by the strait of Canso or Canseau. 3. Granville, the site of the old Scotch settlement opposite Annapolis, was formerly called Caledonia, and is so named on the old maps. Ab< and th( French the Ac the Ind cil witl] from N colonie alarm! r Acadia came t< summo 1755, V majorit ment, y CI u Pi Y N P Lake, mountains 9 and caves were commercial. Thu epherds, quiet and modern languages natural scenery or iS may have been ve in Arcadia an( was used by some e similarity of the :onnected to New 2. The peninsula I is a part of the lettlement opposite id is so named on CHAPTER IV. The Exilb. About this time the English met with reverses in Canada, and the Nova Scotia Governor feared another attempt by the French to regain the province. He believed that if that occurred the Acadians would join the invaders, and bring with them the Indians to prey upon the English .settlers. He tcwk coun- cil with his advisers, and it was decided to remove the Acadians from Nova Scotia, and scatter them through the other English colonies. Measures were taken to prepare for this without alarming the Acadians. Suspecting no serious trouble, the Acadians of Grand Pre, Minas and the adjoining settlements came together at their church at Grand Pre, in obedience to the summons of Colonel Winslow. This was on September 2nd, 1755, when the Acadians were busy with their harvest. The majority of them attended and, to their horror and astonish- ment, were informed of their intended fate. "You are convened this day," he snid, "by his Majesty's orders. Clement and kind has he been; but bow you have answered his kindness Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our Monarch: Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of " all kinds Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province (») 24 EVANGEUNfi. Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people ! Prisoners now 1 declare you, for such is his Majesty's pleasure!" Similar action was taken at Annapolis, Cumberland and other points; in all, about seven tbousand souls were transpor- ted. The number collected at Grand Pre was one thousand nine hundred twenty-three. A few had escaped to the forest, Cape Blomidon from the Ilasln of Hinas. and to deprive them of sustenance all buildings were burned, crops destroyed and cattle driven away. In the district of Minas 255 houses, 276 barns, 155 outbuildings, 11 mills and one church were destroyed. On the 10th of September the people were put on board the transports. Heartbroken and despairing, this whole community was carried from the only homes many of its members had ever known. They could, carry nothing with them but a few household goods. Their crops, on which they subsisted, were gone. Their houses. in wl happ drive ship; along theF a reli provi pitial appej S( was s hunti amun peopl nor c their escap live t( and c S( the o : you may dwell iceable people ! is his Majesty's s, Cumberland and souls were transpor- i was one thousand scaped to the forest, Inas. Idings were burned, In the district tbuildings, 11 mills 10th of September lorts. Heartbroken IS carried from the iver known. They r household goods. ;one. Their houses, EV ANGELINA. 26 in which they were born and in which they had spent so many happy days, were in ashes. Their cattle were slaughtered or driven away. Their farms had forever passed from their owner- ship; and they themselves were carried to the English colonies along the Atlantic coast, and landed among a people hostile to^ the French nation, speaking a language unknown to them, of a religion at variance with theirs, and unwilling or unable to provide for their maintenance. Their condition was truly pitiable. Is ^ surprising that their sufferings and wrongs appeal to us strongly even at this late day? Some found their way to Louisiana where their language was spoken ; some went to the western frontier and engaged in hunting and trapping; some went to Canada; others remained amung the English; a number were sent to England by the people of Virginia and South Carolina, after asking the Gover- nor of Nova Scotia for money for their support; a few found their way back to Nova Scotia, and, joining those who had escaped exile, formed little settlements; and their descendants live to-day in their Acadian land and still preserve the old dress and customs of their forefathers. "Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and mystic Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy; Maidens still wear their Morman caps and their kirtles of homespun, And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story." Some of the Acadians had signified their willingness to take the oath of allegiance when they saw that exile was forthcom- ing, but this privilege was refused them. They had asked to 26 BVANGEUNB. be permitted to remove to the French colony in Louisburg, but this had been refused on the grounds that it would add to the strength of the force already there, and increase the danger of incursions. They had been threatened with removal, but did not fully understand the penalty. Something had to be done to settle this vexed Acadian question; but we shudder as we contemplate the full results of the settlement as carried out. After the exile of the Acadians, the home government desired that the land should be occupied by disbanded soldiers. The governor of Nova Scotia objected, claiming that they were not the proper material for a new colony. The governor was per mitted to adopt his own plans, and he proceeded to invite set- tlers from New England, through the provincial agent at Boston. As a result several hundred settlers came from Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island. The power of the French in the new world was rapidly waning. In 1758 Louisburg surrendered to Amherst, Prince Edward's Island was taken soon after, and in 1759 Quebec fell. By this final victory the English became masters of all Canada. By the treaty of Paris in 1763, the French gave up all claim to Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, Canada, and many islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. When the American Revolution broke out and the Thirteen United Colonies declared themselves free and independent in 1776, the province of Nova Scotia remained loyal to the crown, although there was some dissatisfaction. Immediately after the close of the war Nova Scotia received a large addition to its population by the emigration of loyalists from the states. Between fifteen thousand and twenty thousand of these refu- gees landed at dififerent ports of the province, Mapy of them found homes in the valley that was the former home of the Acadians. 1 Louisburg, but irould add to the >e the danger of emoval, but did had to be done : shudder as we as carried out. emraent desired I soldiers. The it they were not •vernor was per- ed to invite set- incial agent at .ers came from rid was rapidly Amherst, Prince 759 Quebec fell. rs of all Canada. ! up all claim to 1 islands in the ttd the Thirteen independent in il to the crown, mediately after irge addition to rom the states, i of these refu- Mapy of them er home of the 1 BVANGBLINB. NOTES. 27 1. The people of Acadia were mainly the descendants of colonists brought out by Isaac de Razilly and Charnise between the years 1 633 and 1 638. These colonists came from Rochelle, Saintonge, and Poitou, so that they were drawn from a very limited area on the west coast of France, covered by the mod- ern departments of Vendue and Charente Infferieure. This circumstance had some influence on their mode of settling the lands of Acadia, for they came from a country of marshes, where the sea was kept out by artificial dykes, and they found in Acadia similar marshes, which they dealt with in the same way that they had been accustomed to practice in France.— Hannays History of Acadia. 2. The Gaspereau is a stream flowing from the southwest into the Basin of Minas, near Grand Pre. . At its mouth the Acadians embarked. This must not be confused with the post of the same name on the isthmus. 3. The Cornwallis mentioned as the governor of Nova Scotia, was not the Cornwallis of the Revolution. .it* CHAPTER V. Thb Acadian Land. "A land which floweth with milk and honey." "And ye shall dispossess the inhabitants thereof and dwell therein." The site of the first settlement by De Monts, and the region made famous by Longfellow's poem, are both in the valley formed by two ridges of highlands called the North and the South mountain. This valley extends through the counties of Annapolis and King's. The North mountain fronts on the shore of the Bay of Fundy, and extends from Digby Cut, at the entrance to Annapolis Basin, northeastwardly to Capes Blom- idon and Split at the entrance of the Basin of Minas. The South mountain is neither as steep nor as high as the North, but extends nearly parallel to it. To the westward through this valley, runs the Annapolis river, emptying into Annapolis Basin at the site of old Port Royal. In the broader eastern end of the valley, which drains into Minas Basin, there are many streams:— the Gaspereau, Comwallis, Canard, Pereau and Habitant rivers. The land drained by these rivers is the most fertile and highly cultivated of any in the province. It is fitly called the "Garden of Nova Scotia. " Along the western shore of Minas Basin, from Grand Pre to the foothills of the North Mountain, are the dyke. lands reclaimed from the sea by the French and their successors. This dyke land is the most val- . uable of the many soils found in the valley. In most instances of alluvial deposits in other parts of the world, the deposit is brought, to the sea by the rivers. Here we find the process is (») >ney." i thereof IS, and the region ith in the valley i North and the h the counties of in fronts on the DigbyCut, at the to Capes Blom- of Minas. The :h as the North, jstward through ? into Annapolis broader eastern 1, there are many rd, Pereau and ivers is the most ince. It is fitly be western shore ills of the North the sea by the is the most val- n most instances d, the deposit is id the process is )f*p of AniwpoUs and Kin^ Countlcf, 30 BVANOSUNS. reversed, and the deposit is brought up the rivers by the sea. This alluvial matter comes from the shores and bottom of the basin and bay, from whence it is torn by the mighty tides which ever sweep back and forth through their channels. The torrent sweeps up the Bay of Fundy and enters the Basin at Cape Split, where it reaches a velocity of ten or twelve miles an hour. Here it reaches its greatest height of seventy feet above low water mark. In some of the Acadian rivers, the upward flow of the tide against the fresh water current forms a wall of water called the bore of the tide. This sweeps up the stream at a rapid rate, and with a loud rushing sound. The height of the bore illustrated on page 42 is 5 feet 4 inches. The largest unbroken tract of dyke land in the province is the Grand Pre, or Great Meadow, in Horton. This tract the Acadians reclaimed by building dykes from either end of Long Island to the mainland. South of Long Island, where the upland rises from the Grand Pre, was the village of the Acadians. In the field just in front of the row of old French willows, can still be seen the cellar of the house which is supposed to be the one used as Colonel Winslow's head- quarters during his momentous visit. Here, too, is the site of the village church. The old French well marks the site of the village green, and a little farther eastward was the Acadian cemetery. The village probably extended irregularly from the church southward to the higher lands. Along the line of the village street may be seen many willows, the old French apple trees, the grave of an English soldier who died at the time of the exile, and the site of the village smithy. To the north- ward of the row of willows first mentioned, stretches the great meadow from which the village received its name; and beyond that is Long Island, easily distinguished by the trees and Louses upon it. 1 SVAN0BUN8. ivers by the sea. nd bottom of the he mighty tides r channels. The ers the Basin at or twelve miles t of seventy feet adian rivers, the ler current forms This sweeps up liing sound. The eet 4 inches, in the province ton. This tract from either end >f Long Island, as the village of the row of old the house which ^inslow's head- :oo, is the site of ks the site of the vas the Acadian igularly from the 1^ the line of the )ld French apple 1 at the time of To the north- 'etches the great me; and beyond Y the trees and 32 BVANOHUNB. "And away to the northward Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains Sea fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended." Blomidon is plainly seen to the northward, and very often the "mists from the mighty Atlantic" roll in great masses over the top of the North mountain and hide much of it from view. At such times the mist or fog rarely descends to the valley. Great detached masses of fog often hang on the side or stunmit of Blomidon, and can be seen plainly from the land or from the waters of the Basin. Blomidon is a bluff headland of red sandstone, surmounted by a perpendicular wall of basaltic trap, the whole about six hundred feet high. This headland is a rich field for the geologist, as the varieties of specimens found are numerous and interesting. In the spring, after the severe frosts of winter, great masses are detached from its sides, and crash downward to be ground by the relentless tides. The geologist must work among these masses at low water, because at high tide the sea washes the face of the cliff. Many beauti- ful specimens of amethyst are found. The underlying sand- stone is worn away by tidal action, and this hastens the fall of the trap rock from above. The soil of the dyke lands consists mainly of a large jper- centage of silica, the iron which gives the reddish color, cal- careous matter, and various salts of potash, lime, alumina, etc. This combination is a most favorable one, and its fertility is increased by sediment brought by the streams from the uplands. For nearly two hundred years these dyke lands have been pro- ducing from two to four tons per acre of the finest hay, and have also furnished autumn pasturage for cattle. The marsh mud is taken from tidal streams or rivers in autumn or winter, 1. 2. oft on the the mighty their station i, and very often ;reat masses over [ of it from view, is to the valley, le side or summit he land or from r headland of red 11 of basaltic trap, is headland is a specimens found , after the severe 9m its sides, and less tides. The w water, because r. Many beautl- inderlying sand- hastens the fall y of a large per- Kldish color, cal- ne, alumina, etc. id its fertility is from the uplands. Is have been pro> ! finest hay, and tie. The marsh itumn or winter, BVANOBLimi. 33 and used as a fertilizer on the uplands, with excellent re- sults. Apples and potatoes are the principal products of the valley, and are shipped mostly to England and the West Indies! Grapes, berries, plums, cherries, and various vegetables are successfully raised. Wheat, rye, and oats are a profitable crop, but the amount produced is much smaller per acre than on the prairies of our west and northwest. The longevity of apple trees is apparent when we notice, as stated above, that apple trees planted by the French are still living. The forests supply spruce, f r, pine, hemlock, birch, beech, maple, oak, elm, and other woods,— in fact nearly all the varieties required for housebuilding and shipbuilding. The sea supplies cod, herring, mackerel, lobsters, salmon, shad, smelts, gaspereau or alewives, haddock, pollock, flounders, sea-bass, sturgeon, and many other fish; while the streams contain an abundance of speckled trout. In the woods are moose, caribou, bear, the timber wolf, fox, lynx, wild-cat, porcupine, rabbit and skunk. Otter, mink and musk-rat are in the streams and ponds. Of birds there are geese, ducks, plover, snipe, woodcock and partridge. From the fields and woods are gathered checkerberries, hazel nuts, beech nuts, strawberries, blueberries, huckleberries, cranber- ries, juniper berries, red raspberries, blackberries, gooseber- ries, bunchberries, and spruce gum. The dainty and beautiful mayflower abounds. In this short chapter we can learn but little of the many resources and advantages of this wonderful country, but we certainly are convinced that it is "a land which floweth wUh milk and honey." NOTKS. 1. Dyke lands are worth from $300 to $400 per acre. 2. The amount given as the maximum yield per acre of 34 BVANOSLINB. hay on the dyke lands is four tons. This is considered fairly accurate, as the author knows of a yield of 44 T. 1800 lbs. from ten acres, and can furnish data from many reliable sources that place the amount at the figures given. 3. It is stated on good authority that four hundred bushels of potatoes were grown on one acre of ground near Kentville. 4. The name "gaspereau" is a local name applied to the alewives, for the reason that the Gaspereau is the only stream they ascend from the Basin of Minas. The Gaspereau is the only one of these streams that has its source in a lake, and the alewives probably seek this lake for spawning. 5. King's County raises 225,000 bushels of potatoes yearly. The estimated yearly apple product of King's and Annapolis counties is 500,000 bbl. wm \ I u considered fairly r. 1800 lbs. from able sources that hundred bushels 1 near Kentville. i applied to the the only stream raspereau is the a lake, and the potatoes yearly, and Annapolis CHAPTER VI. Thb Succbssors. "Dwells another race with other customs and language." The settlers who came to the valley after the Exile, were a hardy and industrious people. As many of them came from New England, they brought with them the customs, dress, habits and religious views of New England. These were somewhat modified by the presence of settlers from Great Britain, and the trade with that country. We know but little of the social condition and affairs of these people during the first years of the occupation, but, as they were without rail- road, telegraph or steamboat, it is fair to presume that there was little change previous to the year 1800. The houses were warmed and the cooking done by means of the fireplace, with its necessary andirons, shovel, tongs, poker, bellows, crane, bake-kettle and brick oven. The baking was mainly done in the brick oven. Quarters of meat, six or eight loaves of bread, a loaf* of cake, and a half dozen pies was considered no unusual quantity to put into one oven at one time. Often a loaf of bread or cake, or a pudding, was baked in the bake-kettle over the fire. The bake-kettle was a round iron kettle about ten inches deep, and had an iron cover. It was hung on the crane over a slow fire. When baking, coals were put on the cover. The baking thus done was very satis- factory. Often, what was called short-cake, made like our biscuit, was baked before the fire in a long handled frying pan, the handle resting on a chair. Pancakes were fried in this same pan, and the cook would turn the cake without knife or lifter, but by a quick movement of the hand and arm. One (38) 36 KVANOKUNK. young lady was thus frying cakes while a young man, who was greatly interested in her, sat in the chimney corner watch- ing her dexterously turning them. Something that confused her must have l)een said, for she missed the turn on one, and it landed in his lap, raw side down. Everyone kept sheep. The sheep were sheared , the wool was picked and greased, and taken to the carding machine, where it was made into rolls. It was then taken home, and spun into yarn on the big wheel. From there it went to the loom where it was woven into blankets, and cloth for men's clothes and women's dresses for everyday use. No young lady was ready to be married until she had prepared a stock of home made blankets, so much needed in that climate. Flax was raised, cleansed of the tow, or hard part, on the hatchel, a board with long iron teeth, and spun on the little wheel. The product was then woven, and this too was an im- portant part of a young lady's dowry. . Wheat bread and rye bread were used; also much com meal. "Fine bread" was of wheat, "coarse bread" was of rye. Coal oil came into use about 1840. Before that time, and to a great extent for many years after, the light used was from dipped or moulded candles. At church the conduct of old and young was governed by rigid rules. All actions in the house of God were most sedate and exemplary. Sunday school began at 9:00 A. m. and lasted until 10:45. Then en intermission of fifteen minutes was given for children to walk in the graveyard, read the inscriptions on the tombstones, and eat their lunches. Church services began at 1 1 o'clock. After the sermon, liberty was given to anyone desiring to speak. In the Presbyterian church they sang the Psalms of David, in the Baptist church Watts' hyms were used, and with the Methodist church came Wesley's hymns. Pews were either owned or rented. When a family hadentered ^^IdM^Ktt&itaK " 1 oung man, who ey corner watch- ig that confused m on one, and it red, the wool was lachine, where it e, and spun into the loom where :n's clothes and lady was ready of home made ard part, on the >un on the little 3 too was an itn- also much com bread" was of ifore that time, : light used was ^as governed by ere most sedate A. M. and lasted inutes was given inscriptions on 1 services began (iven to anyone 1 they sang the tts' hyms were 'esley's hymns, nily hadentered 1 KVANORUNB. 37 their pew the door was closed and buttoned. Many pews had a low seat along one b'uIv for the children, who were not allowed to be conspicuous. During the prayer all stood and faced about, except in the Methodist church, where all knelt. The negro pews were in the gallery. Negroes were not allowed to enter the body of the church. Little girls wore short dresses, as they do now, but with pantalets down to the shoe-tops. Their shoes were not high 1 i -•*''•■ 1 ''pM 3 St^il, ^^^^ AlNjI iuS .. . '^i'r^.w' 1 -*»j>»,frrK! %^.. ■■ Port WIHUnM Bridge, CornwAllli Biver, Tide out. laced or buttoned, but low, with two or three pairs of eyelets for laces. Their hats had very broad brims. Beads of glass. West India peas, or gold were much worn. The boys wore long pants and boots, short jackets, and flat topped caps with glazed visors. After the days of stocks, knee-pants and large buckles, the men wore white beaver hats, "swallow-tailed" coats with brass or horn buttons, vests of various colors, and white or black trousers. For work in the woods in winter, many men wore rawhide moccasins. In winter, the older men n 38 BVANGBLINB. wore long camelot cloaks fastened at the throat by a chain. The old ladies wore long cloaks of broadcloth or shepherd's plaid. Large bonnets were worn, and in due time came the kind called the "scoop" bonnet. Children did not have the toys and playthings of to-day. A wax doll or a London doll was a luxury and rarity. A whole family of rag dolls usually inhabited the garret. An old dormer window was also a favorite play house. At school, the desks consisted of a board placed slantwise, and extending along the wall on three sides of the school-room! In front of this "desk" was a bench for the pupils, and under the "desk" was a horizontal board for the books. When the pupils wrote they faced the wall; when they studied or recited they swung their feet over the bench and faced the center of the room. Classes studied their spelling aloud and in unison, swaying together on the bench as the cadence rose and fell. When a school became crowded, a double "desk" with its benches was built down the middle of the room. Most school- houses were built with a dungeon, a small room with no win- dows, for the confinement of refractory pupils. Quill pens were used, and the teacher kept them in repair. When the school had a lady teacher, all the girls took their "work" and learned to sew. The teacher basted most of the work. After learning to sew, each girl was expected to work a "sampler," which was a small square of canvas, around the edge of which a vine with fruit was worked with crewels. Inside the vine was the name of the worker, her age, the alphabet, and some- times a motto, a bird or an animal. The boys had but few playthings except those made with a jack knife. They played ball, hide and seek, tag and various other games similar to those of to-day. Girls and boys played together "Old Mother Hop- pity Clink," "Thomaway," "The Spanish Knight" or "The Rich Widow." 1 throat by a chain, doth or shepherd's lue time came the ythings of to-day. ry and rarity. A d the garret. An house. 1 placed slantwise, }f the school-room. pupils, and under books. When the studied or recited Ficed the center of ud and in unison, nee rose and fell. i "desk" with its >m. Most school- oom with no win- upils. Quill pens spair. When the their "work" and ' the work. After rork a "sampler," the edge of which Inside the vine ;>habet, and some- >oys had but few ife. They played les similar to those Old Mother Hop- ECnight" or "The Mother: Knight: Mother: Knight: BVANOBI,INB. 39 SPANISH KNIGHT. "My daughter Jane she is too young To be ruled by your false, flattering tongue." "Then fare-thee-well, my lady gay, For I must turn another way." "Turn back, turn back, ye Spanish Knight, And scour your boots and spurs so bright." "My boots and spurs they cost you naught. For in this town they were not bought; So, fare-thee-well, my lady gay, For 1 must go another way." RICH WIDOW. "I am a rich widow; I live all alone; I have but one daughter And she is my own. Come choose you a good one Or choose you none. " The young men gathered birch bark, which was used to make "Ughters" for Ughting the candles, kindling fires, and also to spread on the house under the shingles, to keep out the cold of winter. They gathered rushes for bottoming chairs They gathered the moss from the uplands, and in summer the parlor fireplace was filled with it. In for^t or field they saw blackbirds, jays, bob-o'-lmks. robins, the great snowy owl, the big brown owl, and the little screech owl. The little red squirrel was common, crows and guUs were numerous, and in some locahties the raven was found. The housewife gathered for medicmal uses lobelia, catnip, boneset. tansy, wormwood. 1 ,!#»' 46 SVANQBLmB. motherwort, celandine, pith elder and sumac. From the! shores and mud flats came an abundance of clams and scallops, [ called by the people "skim sheUs," because they were exten- sively used for skimming milk. From the rocks, at low water, was picked an edible sea weed I called dulse. .■wy< fe^^ ajjlBWllWWlBi'^ii^^iMacagg^ig Port WUlUuns Bridge, CornwaUU Blver, Tide in. NOTSS. 1. The English custom of turning to the left when meet- ing on the highway was adopted. 2. The principal roads running east and west through this! part of the valley were called streets. 3. In one of the old church-yards was a head-stone at thel grave of "Hannah EngUsh and Child, 1767." This head-l stone was broken, through age or accident, and in the summerj of 1897 it Was stolen by some relic hunting tourist. Thepr I sixty- five < I the trip to was used; I The prodti I geese, chi< I socks and i the pair, i were about per pair for thread, su{ kept a gen Thedrygo< shillings an per, with o and Prencb Thevel caracole, ai used the \t with broad ^ of the dyk( horses were with strips to the mou fowling pie wells by me horseback, i '^^WHSpfimiilKrilTwwww**-'"' ■~ " ' '"•nmat^mmmmi c. Prom the I IS and scallops, I ly were exten- ^ble sea weed! i,<, V ^.i t when meet- : through thisl 1-stone at thel This head-l a the summerl t. CHAPTER vn. The Sdccbssors— Continued. The principal market for their products was Halifax, about sixty-five or seventy miles away. Two or three times a year the trip to market was made. If the load was light, one horse j was used; if heavy, three to five horses were driven tandem. The produce taken consisted of mutton, pork, cheese, eggs, geese, chickens, butter, apples, hay, and dozens of pairs of I socks and mittens. Geese were sold per piece, and chickens by the pair, all cleaned and ready to cook. Prices varied, but ! were about 5c to 7c for mutton, 50c for geese, and 25c to 40c j per pair for chickens. They brought back cotton cloth, ribbons, thread, sugar, silks, rum and molasses. The country stores I kept a general stock from shingle nails to West India rum. The dry goods came from England. The currency was pounds, shillings and pence, consisting of English gold, silver and cop- per, with one pound and five pound notes of paper. Spanish and French coins were also in circulation. The vehicles used were the "One Hoss Shay," the gig, the caracole, and later the wagonette. For hauling loads they used the wagon and the ox-cart. One variety of the latter, with broad wooden rims and no tire, was used on the soft ground of the dyke lands. To draw the stage coaches, four or six horses were used. The plows had wooden mould-boards covered with strips of band iron, and the shares were made and fitted to the mould-boards by the blacksmiths. All muskets and fowling pieces were flint-locks. Water was drawn from the wells by means of the well-sweep. Much of the travel was on horseback, and saddle-bags and pist<d holsters were in common (41) 42 I BVANG^UNS. use. In winter the warming-pan, a large, round, shallow,, metal pan with a metal cover and a long handle, was fiUed withL live coals from the fireplace, and pushed between the blanket to warm the beds before retiring. These people had a firm belief in witchcraft, ghosts, signs, and charms. A black cat shut in the oven and a wish made The "Bore- of ifce TMe. Height of W»?e. 6 ft. 4 In. for some one to come, would certainly bring the person wished for. A black cat put under a tub would prevent any one from coming. The tongs turned upside down would bring the one wished for. A woman once put a bUck cat under a tub, to prevent the coming of some one from over the water. Such a violent and terrible storm arose that she became frightened, let the cat out, and the storm abated at once. Here living II sick ore them. to disap with otl hill, W01 no trace over the Kinger-i One old reason f( ache. S moon, fi seen ove over the be fulfill uQmarri< morning seeing. HaUc favorite t future, some su{ took a hi side of tt these woi and look< would ce '#M BVANOBUKB. 43 , round, shallow,! ile, was filled withi ween the blanket aft, ghosts, signs, and a wish made t.4111. lie person wished mt any one from ild bring the one >, to prevent the Such a violent tened, let the cat Here and there were old women, said to be witches. People living near them could not get their butter to come; cattle were sick or chickens died, and of course the old woman had bewitched them. One old woman in particular, had often been known to disappear suddenly, while walking up a steep hill in company with others. Her companions, on proceeding to the top of the hill, would find her seated there quietly waiting for them, with no traces of effort or fatigue. A horse-shoe was often placed over the door, to counteract or prevent the witches' influence. Finger-nails were cut on Friday to prevent the toothache. One old lady, while cutting her nails on that day, gave as her reason for so doing, that it was a sure preventive of tooth- ache. She had not, at that time, a tooth in her head. The new moon, first seen over the right shoulder, brought good luck; seen over the left shoulder, it brought bad luck. When seen over the right shoulder and a wish made, the wish would surely be fulfilled. Among the young people it was said, that the first unmarried person of the opposite sex, seen on St. Valentine's morning, would be the future companion of the person so seeing. Hallow-e'en was celebrated in various ways. That was the favorite time for working charms, and seeking knowledge of the future. Spirits walked the earth on that night, and therefore some supernatural effects were to be expected. If a young lady took a handful of hemp seed, and walked once around the out- side of the house, sowing the seed as she walked, and repeating these words: "Hemp seed, I sow thee. Whomsoever I'm to have Come after me and mow thee, " and looked over her shotilder as she completed the circuit, she would certainly see the mate of future years. f 44 AVANOBUNS. If yarn, unwound from a ball in the hand, be let down a well, a pull would be felt, and the holder must ask who it was; in answer, a name would be pronounced from the depths of the well* I Cabbage was migratory on Hallowe'en. From the gardens of those who had a large quantity, it mysteriously traveled to the homes of the poor, who had little or none. Gates changed places, and other strange doings occurred; but no damage was done to property. In fixing the time for planting or sowing, making soap, and for many other operations, strict attention was paid to tht phases of the moon, and much dependence placed upon choos- ing a favorable time according to that luminary. A popular ghost story was to the effect that a ghost visited the living, after they had retired for the night, and that a cold, clammy hand was pressed upon them, coming unexpectedly out of the darkness. Once a girl, a firm believer in ghosts, had been listening to this, and similar stories told around the fireplace in the evening. She went up to her room, feeUng | very nervous and frightened. On getting into bed, she covered up her head in dread of she knew not what. To her horror she felt a soft pressure on her feet. This soft touch stole to- ward her head, gradually and silently. She tried to scream, but could not. But, in her agony, she at last heard, near her | head, a sound that ended the trouble. It was the purring of her pet cat. The "ghost" was at once joyfully recognized. At various times and places, ghostly noises were heard, such as groans, and the rattling of chains; but we suspect that the solution in each case would have been as simple as that of the ghostly hand we have just read of. Many were the stories of pirates' gold and Captain Kidd's treasure. On the face of the cliff at Blomidon, a cave was said to exist, that contained a vast quantity of treasure. Some! ven era] ag and am w tl fr St land, be let down n lUSt ask who it was; >m the depths of the From the gardens teriously traveled to >ne. Gates changed but no damage was wing, making soap, ition was paid to the placed upon choos- iinary. t that a ghost visited ight, and that a cold, oming unexpectedly . believer in ghosts, ^ries told around the to her room, feeling : into bed, she covered hat. To her horror i soft touch stole to- She tried to scream, t last heard, near her [t was the purring of >yfuUy recognized, oises were heard, such : we suspect that the simple as that of the I and Captain Kidd's lidon, acave was said r of treasure. Some BVANOBUNB. 45 venturesome spirits tried to reach and explore it. They returned empty handed, saying that they found the entrance guarded by a great serpent. This was in summer. Later they went again, and this time said they were driven back by a skeleton sentinel, armed with a sword and a blunderbuss. A third time the effort Tbe pipe item* and pipe bowls i treme right li from French ftppl lUop or "8ktm" ■hells. Tbe bof ripe bowls are from Acadian cellars. Bit of wood at rench apple tree. The three shells In front are tbe BOkilop or "skim" shells. Tbe bottle completely cofered with basket work wBscoveied by Hlomac Indians. The old Blue In center Is the one mentioned In the note. The other articles shown belonged to the early settlers of the Jirovlnoe. Some were bcooRht from Scotland and England, and some came rom Conneotlont about iTBOi Among them are copper articles, bom spoons and some very old china. was made by those who knew the secret of the difficult way to the cave. This time they took with them a charm procured from a negro voodoo doctor, which was proof against spirits or snakes. When they neared the cave, they discovered an armed party of rough characters in ambush in the woods, ready to 1 46 BVANOBLINB. take by force any treasure they might secure. A third time they returned unsuccessful, and soon after this, the cave was hidden, and the path to it carried away, by a fall of rock. The Isle au Haut, in the Bay of Fundy, was believed to contain buried treasure, but it was asserted that when a party landed from a vessel, and began to dig in a certain place, a violent storm arose, which threatened to tear the vessel from its moorings. When the party rushed to the beach, the sea and air at once became still; but upon their return to their digging, the same disturbance occurred, and they were forced to abandon further effort for treasure. An old man died, who had been considered as a blasphemer by the stricter church people. These who watched with him at his death declared that just as the spirit left his body, a 3tast, resembling a great black dog, came from under the bed, sprang through the window, and vanished in the night. At one of the inns, numerous guests had refused to remain a second night, in a certain room of the house. They one and all declared that they heard a voice saying repeatedly, "Want to be shaved?' ' ' 'Want to be shaved?" The Undlord investi- gated, and found that a tree branch, blown by the wind, raked across the window with a noise that was almost an exact re- production of the words the guests said they had heard. An old clock, that had been in a certain family for many years, is said to have foretold the death of at least five members of that family, by striking between the hours, with no mistake in the strikes of the foUowing hour. This was solemnly as- serted by several members of the family, who said they heard it. Suicide was almost unheard of. One case occurred, of which we have record. An old lady took her own life; and, according to the old law, she was buried where four roads met, and a stake was driven through the body. The young folks were thoroughly taught lessons of polite- BVANGEUNB. 4T e. A third time this, the cave was I fall of rock. y, was believed to that when a party a certain place, a Eur the vessel from the beach, the sea :ir return to their i they were forced ed as a blasphemer watched with him irit left his body, a rom under the bed, n the night. I refused to remain ise. They one and repeatedly, "Want le landlord investi- by the wind, raked Imost an exact re- y had heard. in family for many t least five members rs, with no mistake is was solemnly as- lO said they heard it. i case occurred, of c her own life; and, lere four roads met, ness. Boys, on entering a school-room, bowed to their teacher. On entering a room in a house, or while walking on the high- way, they always bowed to their elders. Girls, on similar occasions, "dropped a courtesy." One girl, who had been thoroughly drilled in these matters, was one day walking on the road, when she met a funeral. Mindful of her training, she stopped, and courtesied to each person in the procession. Before leaving this chapter we will notice a little story of one of the school-masters of the old times. Some mischievous neighboring boys poked a stick through his pantry window at night, knocking down a pile of pans. His wife, awakened by the noise, called him and told him there were thieves in the house. His reply was, "Ann, get the broom and drive 'em out. •■—And immediately he resumed his sleep. NOTBSi • 1. The author has in his possession the Bible of the old lady who committed suicide. The book was printed in 1725. 2. One boy, when not quite 14 years old, repeatedly made the trip to Halifax with his load of produce; When we con- sider his age, the value of his load, the distance traveled, stopping at inns among strangers, the then wild country through which he drove, and the great amount of purchases made for the return journey after marketing his produce, we consider this quite an achievement. i ht lessons of polite- mm»*>- i CHAPTER VIII. ThB ACADIANS AND ACADIAN RELICS. Many tales were told regarding valuables concealed by the Acadians. It was declared by many that descendants of the French came to the province at various times, and dug up treasure left by their ancestors. It must be true, for had they not seen "with their own eyes" the hole where the digging was done? Much, if not all, of this digging was done by young men of the neighborhood, who were searching for the tiaditional wealth of the Acadians. The truth of the matter is probably this: The Acadians were not a wealthy people. They had little or no money, and but few articles of value. If they owned any jewelry it was probably in the form of heirlooms of such small size that they could easily be worn, or hidden in the household goods which they were permitted to take away with them. They knew that they would not return, and they would not be likely to bury such articles as the ones mentioned, and under such conditions. A region that is as important to the student of Acadia and its Acadian remains as any in the valley, not excepting Grand Pie, is the country on the north side of the road leading from Upper Canard to Upper Dyke Village. Three or four French orchards stood here, and the remains of numerous French cellars and wells prove the previous existence of an Acadian settlement of considerable importance. In the old days, many articles used by the Acadians were found here. A descendant of the Acadians came to this region many years ago, and made careful inquiry and thorough search for an apple tree contain- ing some links of a chain. He said that his ancestors had left (48) f/-^i»i A: i-»:-,is«-^- J;i;**iH**^'''-'f' "i^^»^ BVANOSLIITS. 49 iLICS. :oncealed by the icendants of the les, and dug up ue, for had they lere the digging is done by young or the tiaditional itter is probably >ple. They had . If they owned eirlooms of such »r hidden in the > take away with , and they would ) mentioned, and nt of Acadia and excepting Grand oad leading from « or four French lumerous French ce of an Acadian e old days, many e. A descendant irs ago, and made jple tree contain- ancestors had left articles buried near this tree; and if the tree were found he could find the articles buried, by following directions handed down to him. His search was in vain; but he found an old, white-haired neg^o who remembered the chopping of the tree. He could tell the orchard it was in, but could not locate the position of the tree. He remembered the finding of the chain, and described it accurately. Some of the old French wells are still used. A very old Frenchman lived in this neighborhood as late as 1825. His house was said to be one that escaped burning by the English. It is probable that every Acadian cellar (and some that are not Acadian) has been probed in the useless search for valuables. Many a sturdy apple tree was undermined by the searchers, and many articles, considered valueless by them, but of greatest value to the collector or student of today, were lost or destroyed. Near Port Williams, there was a deep place in the Comwallis river, into which, tradition tells us, the French cast their valu- ables from the church. Another tradition is to the effect that the bell from the church at Grand Pre was filled with gold and silver articlt.'f, and sunk in the mud of the marshes. The apples oi the Acadians were of both sweet and sour varieties. They were not large apples, but the trees yielded large crops. The Acadian relics that are actually found consist of a few articles, most of them rudely made, that tend to prove that they were used by a people who were poor as to money or articles of value; that things of luxury were unknown to them; and that they toiled to cultivate the soil, reclaim the marshes, and raise their crops and herds, to supply themselves with food and clothing. From the fields and cellars, are dug, from time to time, old ploughshares, coulters, spades, hoes, axes, hatchets, hammers, scythes, pitchforks, wrought-nails, bits of glass of a poor quality, links of chain, iron kettles of dififerent sizes, and .^mi EST" ji* 50 KVANOmjNR. clay pipes and broken pipe stems. Some of these pipes bear the name of R. Tippet as the maker. Who R. Tippet was, and where the pipes were made, is a question not yet decided. Pipes of this same maker have been found in Indian graves of north-central New York, and on Manhattan Island. Were the pipes French, or were they English? If we look on the valley at the season described by Long- fellow when, hm^^amm^',, i irliiilliMii Relks taken from the old French weU at Grand Pre. "Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood," and see through the ''soft still air the Basin of Minas," and "the ships with their wavering shadows" lying at anchor, we do not think it strange that tales and legends were numerous among the Acadians and their successors. How could it be otherwise with such surroundings? We have no doubt of the existence of such stories and "signs" as: 1. The finding of the lucky stone in the nest of the swallow. 2. The luck attending the finding of a horseshoe. pipes bear the ppet was, and t yet decided, lian graves of id. Were the ibed by Long- Pre. light; and lildhood." >f Minas," and at anchor, we were numerous ow could it be lo doubt of the ;he nest of the seshoe. BVANGBLINB. 81 3. The lyoup-garou or were- wolf of the forest. 4. The goblin that came in the night to water the horses. 5. The white L6tiche, the ghost of the child who unchristened died. 6. The talking of oxen in the stables on Christmas eve. 7. The curing of fever by a spider shut in a nut shell. 8. The luck attending the finding of a four leaved clover. 9. The signs of a hard winter, a.s foretold by the large sup- ply of honey laid up by the bees, and the unusually thick fur of the foxes. "With whatdoever else was writ in the lore of the village." The lines of the poem of Evangeline containing the state- ment that "At stated seasons the flood gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows," have been criticized. In the Cornwallis valley it has never been necessary to admit the tides. When the dykes have been broken by a great storm, and the salt water has swept over the meadows, two or three years have elapsed before the grass fully recovered from the effects. But there is a foundation for the lines quoted above. In the Chignecto region there are tracts of marsh lands that do not contain the ingredients found in the dyke lands of other localities, and therefore their fertility does not endure. To renew them the sea is admitted at intervals, and by a new deposit their fertility is assured for another period. Notes : 1 . It is interesting to note the agreement of the implements and articles mentioned in the poem with the list of relics found. 2. Pipes have been found in the Acadian cellars in a posi- tion which verifies Longfellow's line : "Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of tobacco." CHAPTER IX. The Indians. The native Indians of Nova Scotia were the Micmacs, and many members of this tribe still live in the province. The early Micmacs were a warlike tribe, wandering from place to place, hunting, fishing, or fighting with the tribes of the main- land. After gaining the friendship of the Indians, the Roman Catholic Missionaries taught them their religion and easily con- verted them to Christianity. In Micmac tradition the most important character is Gloos- cap. His deeds and character, and the veneration in which he was held, remind us most forcibly of the Hiawatha of the west- ern Indians or the Montezuma of Mexico. He was a combina- tion of the human and divine, and he provided human conven- iences for his people with omnipotent power and on a heroic scale. Minas Basin was his beaver pond, the dam being at Cape Split. Spencer's Island was his kettle turned upside down. All animals were obedient to his will. He could at any time call to his side the moose, the caribou, the bear and the lynx, and they promptly did his errands and carried on his work. He controlled the elements. When his enemies assem- bled in great numbers, intending to overthrow him, he extin- guished their fires, and called to his aid the armies of the frost, so that soon the hostile force was cold in death. He possessed the proverbial Indian hospitality to strangers, who were at all times welcome to his great wigwam on Partridge Island. Glooscap made the first man from a tree. He gathered ame- thysts from Blomidon and gave them to his favorites. While (53) ill I . jjterjBesa •\-j,Mfii^*>^in^iTm^&^-^it'ti<*imii)saisia/m '- ^^3l%<^Ki)Ag^^ EVANGEUNB. 53 :he Micmacs, and ! province. The ng from place to ribes of the main- ians, the Roman >n and easily con- haracter is Gloos- ation in which he vatha of the west- le was a combina- d human conven- and on a heroic he dam being at tie turned upside ill. He could at )ou, the bear and ind carried on his lis enemies assem- >w him, he eztin- rmies of the frost, th. He possessed s, who were at all Partridge Island. He gathered ame- favorites. While the dam existed, the waters filled the AnnapoUs vaUey . Becom- ing angered at the beavers who inhabited this pond, he struck the dam with his tomahawk, and the blow split the solid rock, as seen at Cape Split to this day. He then siezed with his hands a large portion of the dam and hurled it at the beavers. This mass so thrown is known today as the Five Islands. A large part of the pond was drained by this break in the dam, and the beavers fled, to return no more. Strange to relate, geologists support this tradition to a cer- tain extent, and teU us that the waters did cover the valley, until, by some great upheaval, they were forced within their present boundaries. Glooscap tamed the whale, and used him as a beast of burden. On the back of a whale he rode rapidly to places far distant across the waters. He dwelt for many, many years on Partridge Island, but when the white man came he decided to depart. He called together all the birds and animals, except the beavers, and gave them a grand fareweU feast. At the close of the feast he bade them farewell, and departed in his canoe, in a manner similar to the departure of Hiawatha and Montezuma. After his departure, the birds and animals no longer undei stood one another, and there was great confusion and quarreUng. The loons stUl call unceasingly for their friend, and the owls cry "Koo, Koo, Skoos!" "Koo, Koo, Skoos!"— meaning Oh, I am sorry! Oh, I am sorry! But Glooscap will surely come again; his kettle will be righted; his dogs, which he turned to stone when he departed, will be caUed to life; his unbounded hospitality will again be dispensed; beast, bird and man will again understand each other, and uni- versal peace and happiness will prevail. The later Indians were not hostile to the EngUsh-speaking settlers, and caused them but little trouble. They lived in their wigwams, built of birch bark in the summer, or of hem- lock bark and earth in the winter. They sold to the whites i S4 BVANGBUNS. baskets, birch-bark canoes, toboggans, snow-shoes, moccasins and hides. Many of the articles made by the squaws were ornamented with beads and porcupine quills of various colors. They picked and sold berries and other products of the woods and fields. When game was plenty they brought flesh, fish and furs to the settlements. Partridge Island, tbe home of Olooscap. Cape Split in tbe distance at left. Soon after the coming of the white man, small-pox made sad inroads among the Indians. Large numbers died of con- sumption, and any contagious disease seemed to take fierce hold upon them. The stone relics of the early Indians of Nova Scotia are comparatively scarce. Here and there are found the rude arrow-head or spear-head, and occasionally a stone implement, such as a celt, axe or pestle. Some authorities on archaeology believe that most of these larger stone articles were made by other and distant tribes, and were brought to Nova Scotia by loes, moccasins e squaws were various colors. ts of the woods ught flesh, fish distance at left. small-pox made lers died of con- d to take fierce STova Scotia are found the rude tone implement, s on archaeology » were made by Nova Scotia by BVANGBUNB. 55 trade, or were captured during one of their occasional raids to the mainland. When the "Eighteen Hundreds" were young and few, an Indian was accidentally killed near Annapolis. A white hunter met him, and jokingly grasping his gun near the muzzle, thrust it toward the Indian saying, "Will /Aa/much kill jfouf" The startled Indian sprang to one side to get out of the range of the weapon, and in so doing stumbled and fell, striking his head on a sharp stone. He died at once from the effects of the wound so inflicted. The joker fled. The Indians throughout the valley were greatly excited and threatened revenge. Shortly after this occurrence, a lady with a baby in her arms, was sitting in her house when the rest of her family were absent. Suddenly and quietly the outer door opened, and an Indian stepped into the room. Seeing that she was alone, he asked fiercely "Who kill .'um dat Ingun down 'Napolis way*" "lam sure I don't know," said she. The Indian then h' ^i long knife from his belt and, advancing threateningly, -i.d "Me kill um you, anyway." At that moment there «ub an interruption. A man who lived with the family, making and mending shoes for them and their neighbors, was working at his trade in an adjoining room. Hearing the last exclamation of the Indian, he seized a gun which stood in the corner, and rushed out saying "I guess I'll killjfou/' ' The Indian darted out of the door. The man followed and fired, and the Indian fell. After a moment he rose slowly to his feet and, apparently unhurt, ran like a scared deer. They never saw him again. Notes. 1 . At the western extremity of Partridge Island the visitor to the summit may see an excellent outline of an Indian's face on the clifi' wall. The likeness is rendered more startling by a' I 86 BVANGHUNS. the reddish color of the rock of which it is composed. This is said to be the likeness of Glooscap; and that stolid face looks forever directly down the Bay of Fundy, through the gap where the tides are ever rushing and swirling. 2. Partridge Island is about 400 feet high. [See Illustra- tion.] "Then blest Acadia! ever may tby name, Like Britian'B, be graven on rolls of fame; If ay all thy sons, like hers, be brave and fne, Possessors of her laws and liberty; Heirs of her splendor, science, pow'r and ridll, And through succeeding years her children still. Then as the sun with gentle, dawning ray. From night's dull bosom wakes and leads the day, His course majestic keeps, till in the height He glows one blaze of pure ezhaustless light. So may thy years increase, thy glories rise. To be the wonder of the western skies; And bliss and peace encircle all thy shore. Till sun and moon and stars shall be no more." Goldsmith, LINB. 1. 2. 3. 6. 9. 15. 18. 19. 20. 22-23. 24. 25-26. 28-29. 30^1. 33. BVANGBUNB. 57 josed. This is olid face looks irough the gap [See Illustra- le; 1 fnt, I ikiU. ren sdll. »y. Is the day, ght light, iae, we, > more." Goldsmith, K0TB8 AND REFERENCES. LINB. 1. nHmeval: — Never disturbed by the woodman's axe. The sound of the wind blowing through these trees is very similar to the distant sound of the sutf . A light breeze causes a sound resembling a whispering. 2. These festoons of moss may be seen today in many of the ever- green forests of N. S. 3. Druids: — Priests, or ministers of religion, among the ancient Celtic nations in Gaul, Britain and Germany. They frequent- ed or instructed in the forest, or sacrificed nnder an oak. Eld: — Old times, former days, antiquity. 4. Harpers: See Walter Scott's Introduction to the "Lay of the Last Minstrel." Hoar: White, or grayish white; white with age. 6. Wail: Loud lamentation or expressi<Mi of sorrow. Roe: The female deer. Note the condition of the startled roe when followed by huntsman and hounds, as likened to the , condition of the Acadians when they learned of their impend- ing fate. 9. Thatch: Straw, hay, or rushes, used to cover the roofs of build- ings for protection from the elements. 15. Grand Pri: Grand Prairie or Great Meadow. 18. TVaditioH: That which is transmitted orally from father to son or from ancestors to posterity. 19. Aeadie: See Chapter IIL 20. See map of N. S. 22-23. See Chapter V. 24. See Note 1, Chapter IV. 25-26, See Chapter VIIL 28-29. See Chapter V. 30^31 . See Chapter V. Pitching a tent indicates an intention to remain. Fogs and mists hang over the ocean all about the coasts of N. S., as well as in the nearby region of Newfoundland and its Banks. 33. See Chapter V. I fSj-rSttifp i 58 KVANGEUNK. 34. 38. 39. 40. 41. 49. 50. 62. 66. 68. 70. 72. 74. 76. 84. 87. 91. 93. 94. 96, Normandy: Ancient province of France, north-western part. People were descendents of the ancient Normans or Northmen who settled there. There were four Henries of France. The reign of the HenriLS began in 1031. Vanes: Indicators showing direction of the wind. Kirtle: An upper garment; a gown; a short jacket; a mantle. Distaff: Staflf for holding the bunch of flax or wool from which the thread is drawn in spinning by hand. Looms: Machines for weaving the thread into cloth. Shuttles: Instruments for passing the thread of the woof from one side of the cloth to the other, between the threads of the warp. Angelus: Angelus Domini is the name given to the bell which called the people to prayer, in commemoration of the visit of the Angel of God to the Virgin Mary. See the picture called "The Angelus." Incense: A mixture of fragrant gums, spices, etc., used for pro- ducing a perfume when burned. Used in religious rites or as an offering to some deity. Stalworth: Same as stalwart. See Chapter V. Kine: Cows. Flagons: Vessels with narrow mouths, used for liquors. Hyssop: A plant whose leaves have an aromatic smell and a warm pungent taste. Chaplet: A string of beads used in counting prayers. Missal: The Roman Catholic mass-book. See Note 1, Chapter IV. Woodbine: The Honeysuckle; the Eglantine; Black Ivy. Penthouse: A shed standing aslope from the main wall or build- ing; a lean-to. Bucket: Probably used with the well sweep. Wains: Wagons. Folds: Enclosures; pens. Seraglio: The palace of the Sulten, inhabited by himself, his officers and dependents, and his wives. , See Matthew XXVI: 74, 75. 102. 110. 111. 150. BVANGBUNB. 89 lorth-westeru part, mans or Northmen ;ign of the Henries Kriiid. 110. jacket; a mantle, or wool from which to cloth. i of the woof from I the threads of the HI. 117-18. 122. 124. 126. n to the bell which ition of the visit of e the picture called 128. 131. t, etc. , used for pro- religious rites or as 1,35. 137. 145. for liquors, omatic smell and a 149. ; prayers. ne; Black Ivy. e main wall or build- lited by himself, his 102. Weathercocks: So called because they were originally made in the form of a cock. Any device to show direction of the wind; a vane. The little wooden windmills are meant here. Mutation: Change or alteration. Knocker: An instrument fastened to a door, to be used in seek- ing admittance. Patron Saint: The saint regarded as the protector of the com- munity. See Tubal Cain, Vulcan, "The Village Blacksmith." Plain-song: An ecclesiastical chant. See mention of smithy in Chapter V. Leather i lap: The leather apron worn by blacksmiths to guard their clothing from sparks. The tire is heated and placed on the wheel while still hot. On cooling it contracts and thus fits closely to the rim. Bellows: An instrument for forcing air through a tube to blow the fire in the forge. In a hilly country, coasting is always a popular winter sport. It is said that if the mother swallow finds that one of her young is blind, she seeks a little stone on the shore of the sea. This stone she applies to the blind eyes, and restores the sight. The old proverb says; "If the sun shines on Saint Eulalie's day there will be plenty of apples, and cider enough." Saint Eulalie's day is Feb. 12th. The Zodiac is a belt 16° wide, 8° on each side of the ecliptic. It is divided into twelve so-called signs, each 30° in length. Each sign is indicated by picture of an object. The three j«^«* of autumn are Libra, Scorpio, and Sagittarius; or the bal- ances, the scorpion, and the archer. 150. Birds of passage: Those which migrate to the south in winter and to the north in summer. See Bryant's "To a Water Fowl." 152. Refers to the winds which prevail at the time of the autumnal equinox, when the sun enters the sign of Libra, about Sept. 22d. 153. See Genesis XXXII; 24. 156. Indian hunterc: Micmacs, Chapter IX. 159. Same as our Indian Summer. All Saints Day is Nov. 1st. See last paragraph of Chapter VIII. 60 BVANGSUmt. 168. The colors of the autumn leaves. 170. Xerxes found a beautiful plane tree, and became ao enamored with it that he adorned it with fine robes, necklace and jewels, and placed a soldier to guard it. 176. Heifer: A young cow. 184. Regent: One who governs a kingdom daring the minority, ab- sence or disability of a sovereign. 186. Late because they could work on the salt marshes only at low tide. 187. Briny hay: The so-called "salt" hay, a grass Mrhich grows on land overflowed by the sea at high tide. It is cut and piled upon platforms in the marshes. After it is thoroughly dried or "cured" it is hauled to the farm yards. The wagons or carta used for this work were similar to those described in Chapter VII. 192. Udders: The milk glands of female mammals. 193-4. Who that has heard this sound can ever forget it? 205. Pewter: An alloy consisting chiefly of tin and lead. 206. Armed men are often distinguished at great disUnces by the gleam of their arms as the sun strikes them. The Federals, shut up in Chattanooga, first knew of the coming of troops sent to relieve them, by the gleam of their rifle barrels seen far over the hills. .207. Carol: A song of joy or exultation. 213. The spinning wheels give out a peculiar humming sound when in use. Bagpipe: A musical wind instrument of Scotland and Ireland. The air is pressed into the pipes from a leather bag. The bass pipe is called the </fO«^ and the treble pipe is called the <rAa»^. Thft "drone" here mentioned is the monotonous sound which comes from the drone. 217. The sound gives the sense. Note the sound of the clock in the pronunciation of the two words "clock clicked." 225. See Note 2, Chapter VIII. 228. Harvest moon: The moon near the full at the time of harvest, or about the autumnal equinox. 231. Ballad: A popular, sentimental or narrative song in simple verses. 234. The luck in horseshoes is mentioned in Chapters VII and VIII. 249. See historical account. 250. £ 261. ( 263. i 2f>l. 2 273-4. 275-6. 280. 282. £ 284. 1 285. 1 286. : 306. i 322. i 330. i 344. 4 351-2. ! 354. ( ?'jfe!^0'a&S'*?-«*«/t*^'.«iS»ssJf^^ ime so enamored JiUce and jewels, the tninority, ab- et only at low tide, i Vrhich grows on is cut and piled thoroughly dried The wagons or hose described in it? lead. distances by the XX. The Federals, ling of troops sent rrels seen far over iming sound when land and Ireland. ler bag. The bass called the chanter. nous sound which if the clock in the ed." e time of harvest, e song in simple ters VII and VIII. BVANOBUNB. 61 250. 261. 263. 267. 27a-4, 275-6. 280. 282. 284. 285. 286. 306. 322. 330. 344. 351-2. 354. See Chapters IV and VIII. GUde: Turf; soil; sod. Inkhom: This may mean simply an inkstand, or a case holding ink and pens. Notary: An officer authorized to attest or certify deeds, con- tracts and other '>.<itings, usually under his official seal, to make them authentic. Usually called Notary Public. See line 292. See line 1261. Either Queen Anne's or King George's war is meant. The story of the were-wolf is, according to an old tradition of Prance and various other European countries, that certain human beings have the power to turn themselves into wolves that they may devour children. Some white, wild animal probably gave rise to this story. This legend is probably a form of the old story that on Christ- mas eve, the cattle in the stables fall on their knees in adoration of the infant Savior, as the older legend says was done in the stable at Bethlehem. If cattle are disturbed when lying down they rise to their hind feet, theu to their knees, and then to their front feet. On entering the stkble with a dim light the cattle might b« seen rising from their knees in this manner, •nd thus the story originated. In England a cure for ague was a spider shut up in a goose quill and hung about the neck. In the western states of the Union where ague was prevalent, it was said that swallowing a spider would cure the worst case of ague. The four-leaved clover is an emblem of good luck. An old Florentine story. See line 522. Bronze: An alloy of copper with from ten to thirty per cent, of tin. Sometimes zinc is added. Brazen: Made of brass. Draughts: Checkers, so named from the drawing of the men from one square to another. See line 1041. Curfew: From couvre>feu, or cover fire. In the Middle Ages a bell was rung at a certain hour, from seven to nine o'clock in the evening according to the custom of the place, warning all honest people to cover their fires and go to bed. The Normans introduced this custom in England. i Ambroiiawas 62 BVANOBUNB. 371. Refers to the influence of the moon on the tidet. 381. See line 1095. Genews XXI, 14. 413. The fint named ionj< was written in the time of Henry IV. The •econd was a song sung to a tune played on the chimes of Dunkirk. 421. A drum beat sounded over the meadows. 442. Solstice o/summer: The time when the sun's rays are vertical at the Tropic of Cancer, June 2l8t. 454. spar: A mast, yard, boom or guff. 456. See Chapter IV. 461 . Chancel: That part of the church where the altar U pUced. 466. Tocsin: An alarm bell. 470. Vigils: Devotional watching. 476. See Luke XXIII, M. 484. Ave Maria; An invocation to the Virgin Mary. 486. See 2d Kings, II, 11. 492. Emblazoned: Adorned with armorial ensigns. 498. Ambrosial: Delightful to the taste or smeU, the food of the gods of the ancienU. 507. See Exodus XXXIV, 33-35. 533. See Note 2, Chapter IV. 575. Refluent: Returning; ebbing. 577. Kelp: A sea-weed. The ashes of kelp is used in the manufac- ture of glass. The slippery sea-weed mentioned has smaller leaves than the kelp. It sometimes covers the rocks and gives a very precarious footing. 579. Leaguer: The camp of a besieging army. 682. Nethermost: Lowest. 597. See Acts XXVIII. Melita is Malta. 615. Titans: GianU in Greek mythology who tried to deprive Saturn of his power in heaven, but were defeated and driven down into Tartarus by Jupiter, who hurled thunderbolts at them. 621. Gleeds: Burning coals. The instructions of the governor to Winslow were: "You must proceed by the most vigorous measures possible, not only in compelling them to embark, but in depriving those who shall escape of all means of shelter or support by burning their . houses, and by destroying everything that may aflford them the means of subsistance in the country." See Chapter IV. 657. V 660. i (/>7. 1 670. J 672. 1 674. ] 675. 1 676. '. 677. ] (>88. ' 705. 707. 713. 721-3. 732. 733. Henry IV. The on the chimes of rays are vertical tar is placed. Ambrosia was in the manufac- >ned has smaller c rocks and gives to deprive Saturn ind driven down bolts at them. rere: "You must ible, not only in ig those who shall by burning their sy afford them the EVANOKLINK. 6» 657. M). (/i7. 670. 672. 674. 675. 676. 677. (,88. 705. 707. 713. 721-3. 732 733 /?<•//.• The Ifll tolled to mark thi passage of the soul to the other world. /iook: The service book. Dirges: Funeral hymns. They sailed with the falling tide because they could then pass Cape Split with the current. Sailing vessels never attempt that passage against the tide. See Chapter IV. The almost perpetual fogs of this region are probably due to the meeting of the warm Gulf Stream and the cold Arctic Current. From the Great Lakes to the Gulf States. From the Atlantic to the Mississippi. The Mississippi often washes away its banks so that a new channel is formed during a single Bood. See Kaska-skia. Bones of great extinct animals are found at various places in the Mississippi Valley. The trail leading to California through what was called the Great American Desert, was marked by the bones of thousands of cattle, mostly oxen, that died of thirst. At camping places the wiak or worn out animals were often shot to end their misery. Coureurs-des-bois: Men who accompanied the early fur traders of the north-west. They paddled the canoes, carried the goods and canoes at the portages, and assisted to gather in the furs from the Indians. They were French or half-breeds. By living long among the Indians they acquired many of the Indian customs. Parkman's "Conspiracy of Poniiac," and "Discovery of the Great West" contain many references to these men. Voyagcur: A river boatman. Saint Catherine of Alexandria and Saint Catherine of Siena were both celebrated for their vows of virginity. Hence the saying, meaning one devoted to a single life. Refers to the ceaseless round of the moisture which rises from the sea by evaporation, is carried over the land in the form of clouds, falls in the form of rain, sinks into the earth, comes to the surface in the springs, thence to the brook and the river, and finally to the sea, where the journey begins again. Shards: Fragments of earthen vessels. Muse: A genius of art, literature or music. Essay: Endeavor; try. I I i 64 738. 741. 742. 741. 750. 755. 7%. 757. 758. 7Si 761. 764. 766. 769. 782. 78 J. 784. 786-7, 803. 807, BVANOBLINB. Sy/van: Forertlikv; pertainiog to the woodi. 8«e mesning of PeniiBylvaitia; Selva*. See line 1253. The Indians named this river the Ohio or Beautiful River. Oo the earliest maps the latter name was applied to it. See map of U. S. Golden: Below the mouth of the Missouri the waters of the Mississippi have a yellow tinge caused \>y the yellow clay brought by the Missouri. Between the first of January and the 13th of May, 1765, about six hundred fifty Acadians had arrived at New Orleans. Lou- isiana bad been ceded by France to Spain in 1762, but did not really pass under the control of the Spanish until 1769. The existence of a French population attracted the wandering Acadians, and they were sent by the authorities to form set- tlements in Attakapas and Opelousas. They afterward formed settlements oti both sides of the Mississippi from the German Coast up to Baton Rougt, and even as high as Point Coupee. Hence the name of Acadian Coast, which a portion of the banks of the river still heM^i.—Gayarre's Hislory of Louisiana. Chute: A rapid descent of the river. Probably cotton-wood trees are meant. Lagoons: Shallow ponds or lakes. iVimpting: Rippling or undulating. J^licans: Web-footed waler-fowl, larger than swans, having au enormous bill, to the lower edge of which is attached a pouch capable of holding many quarts. Perhaps the sweet orange is meant, as this was called the China orange. Goiden Coast: A portion of the shore of the river. Cttron: The tree which produces th? .;itron of commerce. A bayou on the west side of the river. Tenebrous: Dark; gloomy: dusky. Mimosa: The sensitive plant. Possibly the reference is to the "Pale horse and his rider." Sec Rev. VI, 8. Stroke of doom: The final calamity. The culmination of fat* or destiny. See lines 700, 1145, 1244. Desert: Here means a wilderness; a solitude. Lakes formed by a broadeniug of th^ river. 816. 819. 820. 621-2. 837. 840. 842. 843. 853. 856. 865. 868-9. 871. 878. 885. 889. 890. 914. 924. 953. 956. 961. 970. 978. felf^SSfefiefjfe'- 3«e mesning of 816. iful River. Oo 819. oil. 820. 821-2. e waters of the 837. he yellow clay 840. ay, 1765, about 842. Orleans. Lou- 762, but did not 843. ntil 1760. The the wandering iea to form aet- 853. fterward formed om the German ) Point Coupee. a portion of the 856. ^y of Louisiana. 865. 868-9. 871. want, having au 878. ttached a pouch Has. 889. Ailed the China er. ommerce. 890. 914. 924. 953. his rider." Sec 956. mina^ion of fat^ 961. 970. 978. SVANOKtINS. 65 Waahita or Ouachita waa the Indian name for the male deer. The deer fed on the tender twiga of this willow. Copt: Anything extending over the head. Trumpet flower; The trumpet honeysuckle. See Genesis XXVIII, 10-12. Palmelto: A species of palm tree growing in southern states. See arms of State of S. C. Refers to 821-4. Tholes: Pins in the gunwale of a boat to keep the oars in the row-lock. Trance: A stnte in which the soul seems to have passed out of the body into another state of being, or to be wrapped into visions. Buoy; A float; used to mark channels, rocks or shoals. When a ship leaves her anchorage intending to return soon, the cable of the anchor is fastened to a buoy, thus saving the labor of hoisting and casting the heavy anchor, Teche (tesh) : A navigable bayou of I^a. Magician; A conjurer. IVand: A rod used by conjurers/ supposed to possess magical charms. See line 11. See line 865. Bacchantes: Devotees of Bacchus, the god of wine. Amber; Resembling amber in color; yellowish. Mistletoe: A parasitic evergreen plant bearing a glutinous fruit. A variety grows in the southern states. When found upon the oak, where it is rare, it was an object of superstitious regard among the Druids. Yule-tide: Christmas time. Sombrero: A kind of broad brimmed hat See line 635. Ozark Mts.; Low mountains of southern Missouri. Fates; The three goddesses who were supposed to determine the course of human life. Olympus: A mountain of Ancient Greece, the abode of the gods. Ci-devant: Former; previous. In tropical regions there is little or no twilight, line with 172 and 574-5. Coutras!: '.h\a 60 EVANGEUNB. 984. Natchitoches: A parish of N. W. La. 988-9. Refer to the cold climate and stony soil of Nova Scotia. 991-2. A very strong hyperbole. 1006. See page 285, 1009. Creoles: People bom in America or the West Indies, of Euro- pean ancestors. It is also applied to anyone born within the tropics. 1019. See line 415. 1033. Carthusian: A monk of the Carthusian order, which is the strict- est and most severe in its rules of all religious societies. One of its rules enforces almost perpetual silence. The monks talk together but once a week. 1041 See line 352. 1044. *'Upharsin:" See Daniel V. "The handwriting on the wall." 1054. See line 627. 1057. Oracular: From oracle, an answer from a god among the heathen to an inquiry made. 1060-1. Probable reference to Luke VII, 37-38. 1063. See Luke XV, 11-32. 1064. See Matthew XXV, 1-13. 1075. Garrulous: Indulging in long prosy talk; loquacious. 1082. Oregon: The Columbia river. Wallevmy: Probably the Walla Walla, which flows into the Columbia at Wallulu in Washington. Owyhee: Kiver 350 miles long. Rises in N. Nevada and flows into the Snake River. 1083-4. See map of northwestern states. 1091. Amorpha: False indigo. One variety is called the /«?«<///««/. The flowers are violet or purple in terminal spikes. 1094. Prairie fires. 1095. Se line 381. The Arabs are supposed to be the descendants of Ishmael. Hence any wandering people. 1097. The turkey-buzzard. 1098. Implacable: Relentless; irreconcilable. 1102. Taciturn: Silent; reserved. Anchorite: An anchorite is a hermit or recluse; used here as an adjective. 1106. The geography here is ratlier vague. The region of the Columbia is so far from the Ozarks that it can hardly be called the same "land." Ill in 112 ii:; 1140- 11( Hi 121 1217- 12: Scotia. Indies, of Euro- born within the vhichistheitrict- s societies. ice. The monks i Bg on tile wall." god among the 1114. 1119. uacious. h flows into the Nevada and flows 1124. d the lead plant. kes. 1140-5. 1167. he descendants of 1182. 1211. .' . 1217-21 le; used here as an 1226. on of the Columbia be called the same 1120. BVANOBUNB. 67 Fata Morgana: The Italian name applied to a phenomenon seen in the straits of Messina, and consisting of an appearance in the air over the sea of the < bjects upon the neighboring coasts. In the southwest of the United States, the mirage is often seen; lakes and streams and trees are seen by the travel- ler, but they exist only in his vision of the strata of air of different densities. Shawnee: A member of the tribe of that name. The Shawnees were of the Algonquin family. Some writers consider them as originally identical with the Kickapoos. They are first men- tioned in history as being on the banks of the Fox river in Wisconsin, in 1648. They engaged in war with the Iroquois and most of them were driven southward to the Cumberland river, whence they dispersed, some going to Florida, others to North Carolina, and several bands to Pennsylvania. About 1795 a portion of this tribe settled in Missouri under the protection of the Spanish authorities. Shawnees were engaged in the con- spiracy of Pontiac. They fought against Harmer, St. Clair and Wayne. They were at Tippecanoe and the battle of the Thames. Camanches: Spelled also Comanches. A warlike tribe of no- madic savages who roamed over a part of New Mexico and in the valley of the Rio Grande. Their principal occupations were robbery and war. They fought on horseback. They were probably of the same stock as the Shoshones or Snake Indians. Venison: Flesh of the deer. The tales remind us of the stories in "Hiawatha." The Jesuit missionaries were called the "Black Robes," from their long cloaks or habits. Susurrus: Whisper. Cloisters: A monastic establishment; a covered arcade forming part of a monastic establishment. Mendicant: Begging; poor. . Compass flower: Our common resin weed. The edges of the btt»d lower leaves always stand to the north and south. Asphodel: A perennial plant of the genus Asphodelus, cultivat- ed for the beauty of its flowers. Called also • 'king's spear. ' ' Nepenthe: A drug used by the ancients to relieve pain; sup- posed to have been opium or hashish. |ijiiipnw@ff!t^^ww*"*^^ L 68 BVANGBUNB. 1129. 1233. 1234. 1241. 1242. 1244. 1253. 1256. 1257. Wold: A plain; a country without woods. See map of Michigan. The Great Iiakes. Moravian: The Moravian church is the church of the United Brethren. In the 15th and 16th centuries Moravia was one of its principal seats. It originated in Moravia and Bohemia, about 1457. They were established in this country and early sent their missionaries to and settled in the Great West. Tents of Grace: Gnadenhutten. Armies of the Revolution. Notice the repeated use of the word phaniom. Origin of the word Pennsylvania. Sylvan, or forest land of Penn. The principal streets of Philadelphia, running east and west, are named for the trees of the forest; as. Oak, Elm, Chestnut, etc. Female deities who presided 1282. 1292 Dryads: Njrmphs of the woods, over the woods. 1261. See lines 273-4. 1264. The Quakers make much use of the ancient or solemn form in their speech. Abnegation: Denial; renunciation. In the early days watchmen patrolled the city at night and called the hours. At midnight his call would be "Twelve o'clock and all's well. " When, during the Revolution, a courier rode into Philadelphia with a certain important message, the watch- men on their rounds shouted "Twelve o'clock, and Comwallis is taken." From the settlement of Germantown, then some distance out- side the city. Philadelphia was visited by the ttrrihXt pestilence otytWon fever in 1793. The old Friend's almshouse which stood on Walnut street has been pointed out as the scene of Evangeline's ministering and of her meeting with Gabriel. See line 106. The New Jerusalem as described in Revelations. 1328. The old Swedes church at Wicaa> was begun in 1698. Wilson the ornithologist is buried in iU churchyara. See Exodus XII, 3-14. See Introductory and Chapter VI. See Chapter IV. The poem of Evangeline was published in 1847. 12%. 1298. 1308. 1314-16, 1318. 1355-6 1390-1 1392-7 , of the United avia was one of and Bohemia, mtry and early at West. forest land of Bt and west, are , Chestnut, etc. :s who presided solemn form in night and called Twelve o'clock , a courier rode lage, the watch- and Comwallis e distance out- f of yellow fever tlnut street has ministering and 11696. Wilson BVANGTT..rra. PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OP PROPER NAMES AND FOREIGN WORDS EVANGELINE. IN Th« diieritlcal mRrk* given below tn thoae found in the latest edition of Wdh ■ter'e loternational Dictionaiy. EXPLANATION OF MARKS. A Dull (*) kbore the vowel denote* tlie \oag sound. A Curve (") nbove the vowel denotes the t hort sound. A Circumflex Accent C^) ubove the vowels a or u denotes the sound of • in cStVt or of u in iQrii ; nbove the vowel o it denctes tlie sound of o in Orik A Dot (' ) above the vowel a denotes the sound of a >u paai.. A Double Dot (") above the vowel a denotes the iwund of a in ctAr. - A Double Dot (.,) below the vowel u denotes the sound of u in tr|i<i A Wave (") above the vowel • denotes the sound of e in hSr. S sounds like i. f sounds like s. t sounds like J. t, t, t are similar in sound to I, S, B, l-"t are not pronounced so lonf. Note that the pronunciation of French words can be given only approximately by means of signs and English equivalents. A living teacher is xequisite to eaabl* one to read and speak the language with elegance. AVM Ouillaume Thomas Frsnci* Biqmal (ib-bS'gt-ySm'.ete.). Acadie (k-klMi'). XceS'dT&. idl'yea. Aelian (SnT-ln). Alx-la4:hapelle (iks-IK^hK-pSlO- Amotphaa (A-mOrTis). Angelua Domini (In'jt-lQs dSml-ni). Arct'dia. asphodel (Ss'fS-dn). Atehafatoya (leh-i-fA-n'A). Attakapa* (XUBk'i-paw). Bacchantes (ba-klnOli). Baecliw(blkni»). Beau Sdjonr (bS d-xhSSrO. BSntdlf'Ttt. BSn'edlct BSUefSntane'. BIBmTdBn. Briarens (br{'&-r&s). Brages (bri^h). CViUV. CImlii'ch!|. CSnIird'. Cape Brit^Bo. 9a'tTe. Cbarente Inferieure (shlr4ahV liih<lt- r84!r'). Chamisay (shKr-nT-sSO. Chattnus (shltr-tii'). ^Si BVANOBUNB. CoUlle'. oouraur»dM-boU (kBytlr-dX-bwX), Contet FopuliafM (keDht ySp-n-UiO' Mj«n-feu (k«y»r.l8). Daato** Divio* Commtdia (dI-*l'D* cSaMnPdI-ft). Dttcauroi (dii-kS-rwH^). EvIu'telTu*. rVU MOrglf ■>*• PUber Felieiaa (tttfihntm). roDUiM4|ul-bout (lOnlitin-kS-Mb). Oabrfal Lajeunene (m-tlit-uia'). OupeNMi (gitt-pS-rO'). OnadMibttttan (giiK^ii-hHt'So). OniMl-Pr« (gtVoh-prS'). BtrOdttD*. HocM HellmleM (blKri hn-Unnt-il). IsMe da BatiUi (di rK-ii-yS'). lUvaiMgli (kl*'i-ut). Uk CM du C«TWu> (U UI dn kK-vO'X La Oain Udn (U gtU^i* Uf dri). UHKra. LK Sidle, Le CariUoB d* DuakwqM (HI klr4> yttah'didiin-kirk'). LtUclia (UMMiO- UUnwi fIVIT-nB). Louitbatf QSVT-barg). LoupiPHroa (MS^Sr-fifiO. Bwhn da elupaUe {uifU M Oilt^a/). lbVU(ml-I«^)- Mhiw Buln (mWUi bMto). HatebttoelMa (aRek148ik). ntpCntlit. OpeleuiM (itp4-Uiyifa). Outra-Mar (SHr-mii^ Owybca. PluftmAquBd'dy. nam C^ielle ipMi' kS-pOO- FIi^quTd. Plaquamine, Bayou «{(pllk-mlii', WO). Pluquat ipIn-kiO- Pointe Couptie (pwlnht k<»-pl'). Pqitou (pwK-tSB'). Itoii« UbIaiM (rS-nS' nMdlohkfV RoclieUa (r^sliniO. R(»iini(r8*4i'iit). St. Haur (Onh nSrO- Saintonge (duh'tSiihihOk BIm'idu KgiaUfOt, aaragUo (kt-rlfyS). Siena (iS-Puft). Silpbium laciniatoa (iTVfT-Bm IMTa-t* S'tBm). StraiU o( MeMina (mb-if n*). Ticba(tisli). Tout lea Bourgaott da Chaiteaa (OT II bBSrihwIi^ dS ■hKttr). Vphania (S-nr'iTu). Utreelit (Q'trinct). Vendte (viiulHlS^ voyageuT (v wll-yll-ihb»). WacMU(weib^-U»). Wallaway (wSUt-wI). wita-woM. WicacoCwS-klCkB). ZinM(airka«)i Th I Bearc t Stanc Stan^ t Loud 1 Speal Th 1 Leap 1 Whe; Men Dark BO. •mill', vnt). k-p"'). hihkf). r-Bm IMTa-t' 'a*). MteM(tniS BVANGBLINB. 69 EVANGELINE. PRELUDE. This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indis- tinct in the twilight. Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and pro- phetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neigh- boring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman? Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Aca- dian farmers — Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands. Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven? .J- 70 BVANGBUNA. Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers for- ever departed! Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean. Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village ofGrand-Pre. *' Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, Ye who believe in the bef^uty and strength of wo- man's devotion. List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest; List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. PART THE FIRST. I. In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, " Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand- Pre Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward. Giving the village its name and pasture to flocks without number. Dikes, that the hands of th^ farmers had raised with labor incessant. Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates " Opened and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows. armers for- he mighty inkle them iful village 16 d endures, gfth of wo- ^ the pines the happy. PA tMtmvmmamtm nmHrvm-^mgtWfvvii*^ lie Basin of so of Grand- 5 stretched e to flocks raised with ;ed seasons at will o'er EVANGEtlNE. 71 West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic * Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their sta- tion descended. There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village. Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock, Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries. Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting " Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway. . There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chimneys, Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles Scarlet and blue and green, with distafls spinning the golden *" Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens. 72 BVANOBLINB. 4» Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the children Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them. Reverend walked he among them ; and up rose ma trons and maidens, Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome. Then came the laborers home from the field, and se- renely the sun sank Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, *' Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment. Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, — Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics. Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows ; " But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners; There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas, Benedi Gi Dwelt ( hi Gentle th Stalwo wi Heart} sn White br Fair v su Black th Black, si Sweet in When n< Flagot tl Fairer fr Sprinl hi Sprinl u; Down h 1 BVANOBUNS. 73 L priest, and extended to ap rose ma- 4<'> afifectionate eld, and se- Anon from lie roofs of ) of incense 80 )f peace and )le Acadian Alike were vy, the vice nor bars to 86 i the hearts •est lived in nearer the Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Pre, Dwelt on his goodly acres ; and with him, directing his household. Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village. Stal worth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters ; Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes; White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves. Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers; * Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside. Black, yet how soflly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses 1 Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair in sooth was the maiden. ^ Fairer was she, when on Sunday mom, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters bessings upon them Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads and her missal. 74 BVANGBLINB. I* Wearing her Norman cap and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings '"' Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom, Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession. Homeward serenely she walked with God's benedic- tion upon her. ** When, she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music. Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea; and a shady Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreath- ing around it. Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and a footpath * Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse. Such as the traveler sees in regions remote by the roadside. Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary. . Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss-grown «» Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. Shieldi th( There ! pl( There ^ fea Strutte th< Voice 1 Pe Burstic lag Far o'e sta Under 1 coi There t cei Murmu an Numbe mt Thus far Lived c his Many a his Fixed 1 de\ Happy of glflBljqBi|j|lV'''Wlipi^liit%WWI*i'MP>iHM i">''i '■■■^V BVANOBLINV. n f blue, and id since, as ough long ,1 beauty — ivhen, after I's benedic- ceasing of e house of le sea; and ine wreath- ineath; and 86 ared in the hung by a lote by the d image of IS the well 00 trough for Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the bams and the farmyard; There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique plows and harrows; There were the folds for the sheep, and there in his feathered seraglio. Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the selfsame "» Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter. Bursting with hay were the bams, themselves a vil- lage. In each one Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase, Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous cornloft. There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and inno- cent inmates "w Murmuring ever of love; while above in the vari- ant breezes Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mutation. Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand-Pre Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his household. Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his missal, »<» Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest devotion; Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her garmenti T6 VVANOBLINS. m Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness be- friended, And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps, Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron; Or, at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the vil- lage, Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whispered Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music. But among all who came young Gabriel only was welcome; Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the black- smith, Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all men ; For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations. Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people. Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest childhood Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician, "" Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their letters Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the plain-song. But when the hymn was sung, and tlie daily lesson completed, Swiftly bla There s bel Take ii pla Nailing of I Lay lili cin Oft on i dai Burstin eve Warmi bel And as the Merrily the Oft on j ea( Down t me Oft in t on Seeking the Brings of] Lucky 1 swi m mmm XVANOXI.INB. 7T rkness be- e sound of irt or the no of the vil- lance as he art of the [ only was the black- 116 id honored 11 ages and )ute by the Idren from md Father 180 had taught mns of the laily lesson Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith. There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold him *" Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything, Nailing the shoe in its place ; while near him the tire of the cart-wheel Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders. Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering darkness Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny and crevice, *" Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring bellows, And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the ashes, Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the chapel. Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the meadow. ** Oft in the bams they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters. Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings; Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow I 78 KVANGEWNR. Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children. He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the morning, Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought into action. She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a woman. "Sunshine of St. Eulalie" was she called; for that was the sunshine Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards with apples; She too would bring to her husband's house delight and abundance. Filling it full of love and ruddy faces of children. SECOND READING. Now had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer. And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion en- ters. Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the ice-bound. Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands. Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of September Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with tne angel. All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. Bees, with prophetic instiuct of want, had hoarded their honey ^ Y no longer 140 t the face of md ripened d hopes of a :d; for that load their 145 )use delight children. L the nights scorpion en- en air, from lEO of tropical h the winds > of old with inclement, had hoarded BVANGBUNB. 79 Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters as- serted Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the foxes. Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that beautiful season. Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of All-Saints! Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape »«» Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of the ocean Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in harmony blended. Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farm-yards, Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing of pigeons »« All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the great sun lyooked with the eye of love through the golden va- pors around him; While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yellow. Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the forest Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles and jewels. -170 Now recommenced the reign of rest and aflFection and stillness. I 80 SVANOBLINS. Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twi- light descending Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to the homestead. Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on each other, And with their nostrils distended inhaling the fresh- ness of evening. ^ *" Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer, Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from her collar. Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection. Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks from the seaside. Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them followed the watch-dog, ** Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct. Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers ; Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector, When from the forest at night, through the starry silence, the wolves howled. ' "* Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes, Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor. irt^^=CiP-*-«Saiir?iftd»«r' i^ BVANGBUNE. 81 and twi- and the ng their lie fresh- 175 beautiful bon that r human LUg flocks id them 180 ; pride of ' air, and »rard the rd slept; he starry m lins from with its Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and their fetlocks. While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and pon- derous saddles, Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson, •* Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets de- scended. Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farm-yard, ** Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into stillness; Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn-doors. Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the farmer Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the smoke-wreaths ^ Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Be- hind him. Nodding and mocking along the wall with gestures fantastic. Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into darkness. mt n2 EVANGELINE. m P KM r-l Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair, Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on the dresser ** Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sunshine. Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas, Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgun- dian vineyards. Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated, '••" Spinning flax for the loom that stood in the corner behind her. Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle, While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a bagpipe, Followed the old man's song, and united the fragments together. As in a church, when the chant of the choir at inter- vals ceases, ^^ Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of priest at the altar, So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the clock clicked. Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly lifted. Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its hinges. Benedi( th« And hy wi "Welcc pa "V/elcc on Close 1 wi Take fi tol Never ; cu Smoke fa( Round of Then, i bli Taking sic "Benec tb Ever ii fit Gloom^ th Happy a] Pausin br i :k of his ter plates 305 )f armies carols of :rs before Burgun- rangeline 210 le corner 3 diligent , like the ragments r at inter- 815 ■ priest at id motion :ard, and, ung back EV ANGELINA. 89 Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the blacksmith, *"" And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him. "Welcome!" the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps paused on the threshold, "V/elcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy place on the settle Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty without thee; Take from the shelf overhead thy t)ipe and the box of tobacco; Never so much thyself art thou as when, through the curling Smoke of the pipe or the forge, thy friendly and jovial face gleams Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist of the marshes." Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the blacksmith, Takine: with easy air the accustomed seat by the fire- side:- . ^ . "Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and' thy ballad! Ever in cheerfuUest mood art thou, when others are filled with Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before them. Happy art thou, ixn if every day thou hadst picked up a horseshoe." Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought him, ""' 335 84 BVANGBI,INB. And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly continued: — "Four days now are passed since the English ships at their anchors Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon pointed against us. What their design may be is unknown; but all are commanded On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's mandate ^*' Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas! in the mean time Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people." Then made answer the farmer: — "Perhaps some friendlier purpose Brings these snips to our shores. Perhaps the har- vests in England By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted, ^ And from our bursting bams they would feed their cattle and children." "Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said warmly the blacksmith. Shaking his head as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he continued: — "Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal. Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, ^ Wuting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to- morrow. Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all kinds; Nothinj scy Then w far: "Safer £ anc Safer wi Than oi car Fear no of! Fall on ofl Built a oft Strongl the Filled t for Rene L inl Shall w OU] As apai hei Blushii ha( And, as ter Bent the ighted, he ^lish ships eir caunon )ut all are where his 240 las! in the he people." b^ips some s the har- have been 845 feed their aid warmly ig a sigh, jejour, nor lurk on its sso fate of to- ce weapons BVANGBLINB. 8S Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe of the mower." Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer: — "Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our cornfields, *** Safer within these peaceful dikes besieged by the ocean. Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's cannon. Fear no eAdl, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of sorrow Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the contract. Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads of the village ** Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe round about them. Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a twelvemonth. Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and inkhom. Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our children ?" As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her lover's, ^ Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father had spoken. And, as they died on his lips, the worthy notary en- tered. THIRD READING. Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, M «VANGEUN«. Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the no- tary public ; Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the I. 270 maize, hung Over his shoulders; his forehead was high; and glasses with horn bows Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom su- pernal. Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his great watch tick. Four long years in the times of the war had he lan- guished a captive, Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the English. Now, though warier grown, without all guile or sus- picion, Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. He was beloved by all, and most of all by the chil- dren ; For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest, And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses, And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child" who unchristened Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of children; And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable. And how a nu And of tl and With whi lage. Then up blacl Knocked ing ] "Father thel And, pel ship; Then wit publ '* Gossip thei And wha othe Yet am I tion Brings tl moh "God's 1 irasc "Must V why Daily inj stroi But, witl tary " Man is EVANGELINB. 87 if the no- ss of the 270 igh; and sdom su- e than a leard his I he lan- 876 friend of le or sus- nple, and the chil- li in the 280 to water hild' who chambers id in the And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a nutshell, ^ And of the marvelous powers of four-leaved clover and horseshoes, With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the vil- lage. Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith, Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extend- ing his right hand, "Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, "thou hast heard the talk in the village, ^ And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and their errand." Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public, — '* Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the wiser ; And what their errand may be I know no better than others. Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil inten- tion ^ Brings them here, for we are at peace ; and why then molest us?" "God's name!" shouted the hasty and somewhat irascible blacksmith ; "Must we in all things look for the how, and the why, and the wherefore ? Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest ! " But, without heeding his warmth, continued the no- tary public, — *" "Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice 88 BVANGBLINB. m Triumphs ; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me, When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal." This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done them. '** " Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember, Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statute of Justice Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand. And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people. "*' Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance. Having no fear of the sword that ilashed in the sun- shine above them. But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted ; Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a noble- man's palace ''^ That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a suspicion Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household. She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaf- fold, Patiently Justic As to hei cende Lol o'ert thunc Smote the its lei Down on 1 thebi And in tl magp Into whos( inwo\ Silenced, ended Stood like no lai All his tl face, i Freeze in the w ThenE table, Filled, tii; home- Nut-browr villag While fro and it Wrote wit partie that often ich fort at le loved to V injustice no longer of Justice e scales in lat justice and homes 810 e scales of n the sun- land were weak were in a noble- 315 ere long a aid in the in the scaf- BVANORUN9. S9 Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit as- cended, "* Lo I o'er the city a tempest rose ; and the bolts of the thunder Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left hand Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of the balance, And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie, Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls v inwoven." -^ Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the blacksmith Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no language; All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as the vapors Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter. Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table, ^ Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home-brewed Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pre ; While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhom. Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties, m 90 EVANOKUNR. Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in cattle. *'' Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed, And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the margin. Then from his leathern pouch thp farmer threw on the table Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver ; And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and bridegroom, "" Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare. Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and departed, While in silence the others ^at and mused by the fireside, Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its corner. Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old men '"' Laughed at each lUcky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre, Laughed when r m;i,. was crowned, or a breach was made in i- .. .,in^^ row. Meanwhile, TS'.rct, in the twilight gloom of a window's embras ir i, Sat the lovers and whispered together, beholding the moon rise Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the mead- ows. 860 Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, ^ sheep and ••K< I well were e a sun on r threw on 5 of silver ; bride and k to their bowed and sed by the i out of its contention nanceuvre, Dreach was 1 window's lolding the ■ the mead- aeadow$ of ^*, •s 1 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Inatituta for Hiatorical Microraproductiona / Inatitut Canadian da microraproductiona hiatoriquaa CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Inatituta for Hiatorical IVIicroraproductiona / Inatitut Canadian da microraproductiona hiatoriquaa Blossomi ang( Thus the Rang ou strai Rose the the Many a i dooi Lingered glad Carefulb on t And on 1 fam Soon wit lowe Up the s ness Lighted '. mai( Silent sh door Simple tl and Ample a care Linen an W0V( This was EVANGEI.INB. 91 Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Thus was the evening passed. Anon the bell from the belfry Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straightway Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the household. «» Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door-step Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with gladness. Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the hearth-stone, And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer. Scon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline fol- lowed. «» Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the dark- ness, Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of her chamber. Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and its clothes-press Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully folded *» Linen and woolen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven This was the precious dower she would bring to her ht^sband in marriage^ iil "^i' msm J 92 SVANGBUMS. Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a housewife. Soon she extingfuished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant moonlight Streamed through the windows, and lighted the room, till the heart of the maiden "* Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the ocean. Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamberl Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard. Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow. ^ "* Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the moonlight Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely the moon pass Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her footsteps, "° As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar. FOURTH READING. Pleasantly rose next mom the sun on the village of Grand-Pre. 1 Pleasant Mir Where t ridi; Life had labc Knockec oftl Now fro neig Came ii peai Many a you Made th ous Where t int Group ai , the Long er< silei Thronge groi Sat,in tl getl Every h and For witl tog« All thin] was of her skill lellow and i the room, ulous tides »ld, as she oor of her trees of the am of her 875 's a feeling >f clonds in room for a iw serenely star follow 880 1 wandered -TO»ftv the village EVANGELINE. 93 Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at anchor. Life had been long astir in the village, and clamorous labor »* Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the morning. Now from the country around, from the farms and neighboring hamlets, Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. Many a glad good- morrow and jocund laugh from the young folk Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numer- ous meadows, ** Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the greensward, Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on . the highway. Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups at the house-doors Sat,in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped to- gether. ** Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted; For with this pimple people, who lived like brothers together, All things were held in common, and what one had was another's. '■'^'''K^^afflBsssjiissaw^gi^^jasg^sis^s^sfe^asfc^ <r 94 BVANGBUNB. Yet under Benedict's" roof hospitality seemed more abundant: For Evaneeline stood among the guests of her father Bright was her face with smiles, and words of wel- come and gladness Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it. Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, Stript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of be- trothal. There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary seated; ** There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the black- smith. Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider press and the bee-hives, Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of waistcoats. Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his snow-white Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddler «*» Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the embers. Gaily the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, Tons les Bourgeois de Chartres^ and Le Carillon de Dunkerque^ And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. Merrily dar Under t me Old fol am< Fairest dav Noblest bla( So pa moi Soundec ows Throng< out, Waited hui Garland the Then ca proi Entered clai Echoed 1 and Echoed porl Closed, the I Then u] step "''^wji'-oSSSS ;med more Its of her 400 rds of wel- he cup as air of the east of be- priest and 406 the black- r press and gayest of tely played ally face of 410 are blown und of his Carillon de the music. "^TP-^v BVANGBUNB. 95 Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances 4^ Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; Old folk and young together, and children mingled among them. Fairest of all maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter! Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith! So passed the morning away. And lo! with a sum- mons sonorous «» Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the mead- ows a drum beat. Thronged ere long was the church with men. With- out, in the churchyard, Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them <» Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and casement, — Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers. Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the altar, «» Sv- "1 ':i.m .-# 96 EVANGKUNB. Holding aloft in his hands, with the seals, the royal commission. "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Maj- esty's orders. Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his kindness Let your own hearts reply ! To my natural make and my temper Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch: Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all kinds Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable peo- ple! Prisoners now I declare you, for such is his Majesty's pleasure!" As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer. Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones Beats down the farmer's com in the field, and shatters his windows, Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from the house-roofs, *^ Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their en- closures; 'siss^s^im i i Mlifil— liWg^'-"'^^' Soontl the Silent a the Louder And, bj the Vain ws pre Rang tl hee Rose, V bla As, on j Flushec wil "Down sw< Death hoi More h( ofs Smote ] tol Inth ten Lol the Entere<3 the Raising int BVANGBUNB. 9T the royal his Maj- you have iral make now must will of our , and cattle yourselves ; you may ceable peo- 440 s Majesty's solstice of sling of the nd shatters with thatch 445 ik their en- So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker. Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way. ^ Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce im- precations Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith. As, on a stormy sea, a Spar is tossed by the billows. Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted, — ** "Down with the tyrants of Englandl we never have sworn them allegiance! Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvestsl" More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement. In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry con- tention, *" Lol the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence . ,hi 1^ ':* .■.-■^ 98 KVANGKUN8. All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people; Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful ** Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes. "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you? Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you, Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one an- otherl Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations? * *"' Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? Lol where the crucified Christ from His cross is gaz- ing upon you I Seel in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! *"> Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive theml' Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us, Let us repeat it now, and say, *0 Father, forgive them!' » Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people Sank th sioi While t forj Then froi Fervent peo Not witl Av" Sang th wit Rose 01 tol Mean ill. Wander and Long at rig" Shieldit tha Lighted anc Peasant its Long w the There s wit m^- ke to his measured 466 inctly the : madness you, and : one an- d prayers 470 love and ,nd would ving with ss is gaz- and holy 476 rayer, 'O tie wicked :, forgive ;he hearts BVANGBLINB. 99 Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the pas- sionate outbreak, ^ While they repeated his prayer and said, "O Father, forgfive theml" Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar; Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people responded. Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated, ** Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaveUi. Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children. Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending, **" Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and roofed each Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its windows. Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table; There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with wild flowers ; ;»:#r -viHiM 4>.> ■''^j.i^-ivi^^'.ir. ,^^-'ii/**";-i ' mf^ 100 SVANORUNB. There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy ; ** And at the head of the board the great arm-chair of the farmer. Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad am- brosial meadows. Ah I on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen, And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended, — """ Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience ! Then, all forgetful of self, she wandered into the village, Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of the women, As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they departed. Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children. "* Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glim- mering vapors Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descend- ing from Sinai. Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evan- geline lingered. All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows "" Stood by "Gabri no Came i Slowly of Smouh th Empty pli Sadly i ch In the ra Loud c th Keenl) ec Told h W( Thens iu Soothei sit Foui thi Cheeril fai Esese fresh i-chair of ) door, as broad am- idow had : celestial 600 rgiveness, 1 into the ful hearts steps they veary feet BOB len, glim- t descend- Angelus rch Evan- or and the uo uv-^m 8VAN0RLINR. 101 Stood she, and listened atul looked, until, overcome by emotion "Gabriell" cried she aloud with tremulous voice, but no answer Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the living. Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her father. Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board was the supper untasted. ■"' Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms of terror. Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber. In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate rain fall Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the window. Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing thunder «» Told her that God was in heaven and governed the world He created! Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of Heaven; Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbered till morning. FIFTH READING. Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house. ■* i-m -mmmmm WittMiKmifamis^mmmmmmimiam ;,-f 102 EVANGELINK. Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession, Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian women, Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the sea-shore, Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings. Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the woodland. "*" Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen. While in their little hands they clasped some frag- ments of playthings. ■ Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on the sea-beach Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply; ^ All day long the wains. came laboring down from the village. Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting, Echoed far o'er the fields came the roll of drums fronj the churchyard. Thither the women and children thronged. On a sudden the church-doors Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy procession "*" Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. Even ai Sing a ai So wit S( Down a: Foren tl Sang "Sacr( Fill oi a Then tl Joinec . s] Ming] d Ha] s; Noto a Calml a And £ Tears n Clasp "^r^ mournful farms the d goods to re on their iding road 530 i urged on some frag- rried; and ods of the ips did the 635 a from the ear to his rums fronj ed. On a arching in 540 t, Acadian BVAKGBLINS. loa Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their country, Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are" weary and wayworn. So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants de- scended Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their daughters. "* Foremost the young men came; and raising together their voices, Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions: — "Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible fountain I Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and patience!" Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that stood by the wayside ^ Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sun- shine above them Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits departed. Halfway down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence. Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction, — Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession approached her, *" And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him, Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoulder, and whispered, — Si'il^- ^^a^msmmmmi^'' 104 BVANGELINE. "Gabriel I be of good cheer 1 for if we love one another Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may happen I" "" Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, for her father Saw she, slowly advancing. Alas ! how changed was his aspect! Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, and his footstep Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart in his bosom. But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced him, *" Speaking words of endearment where words of com- fort availed not. Thus to the Gasperau's mouth moved on that mourn- ful procession. There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embarking. Busily plied the freighted boats ; and in the confusion Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their children "* Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried, While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father. Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the twilight Deepened and darkened around; and in haste the refluent ocean "" Fled a\ sai Coverec sli] Farthei tht Like to All escj th( Lay en far Back tc 0C( Draggi lea Inland saj Then, frc Sweet y frc Lowing ba Waited of Silence Ai Rose n frc But be love one ischances 50O y paused, aged was fire from ivy heart his neck 566 s of com- it mourn* t and stir confusion mothers. 670 h wildest il carried, tood with mt down, haste the 67S EVANGELINE. 105 Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beach Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slippery sea-weed. Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the wagons, Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle. All escape cut o£F by the sea, and the sentinels near them. Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers. Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean, Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leaving Inland and far up the shore the strs^nded boats of the sailors. Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their pastures, "" Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk from their udders Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the farm-yard, — Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the milkmaid. Silence reigned in the streets ; from the church no Angelus sounded, Rose no smoke from the roofe, and gleamed no lighte from the windows. *°" SBO But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been kindled, ■■■«' riii'aiwrMWi pfff ■^t. tiiiiJ^ r 106 BVANGBUNB. Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in the tempest. Round them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gathered, Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the crying of children. Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his parish, ^ Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing and cheering, Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea- shore. Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat with her father. And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man. Haggard and hollow and wan, and without either thought or emotion, *" E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been taken. Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to cheer him. Vainly offered him food; yet he moved not, he looked not, he spake not, But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire-light. ''^BenediciteV'* murmured the priest, in tones of com- passion. "* More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his accents Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a threshold, . Hushec en* Silentlj ma Raising the Moved SOI Then si in Sudd the Moon c hoi Titan-li an( Seizing shs Broadei the Gleame lay Column flai Thrust qui Then, a tha Whirlet hui Started mil inds from Faces were and the hearth in 605 1 blessing iolate sea- >^eline sat jf the old ut either 000 ands have aresses to he looked flickering IS of com- 005 t was full, of a child HHU KVANGELINE. 107 Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful pres- ence of sorrow. Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the maiden, Raising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that above them «'» Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows of mortals. Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in silence. Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the blood-red Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and meadow, '" Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows together. Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village. Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in the roadstead. Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame were Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering hands of a martyr "** Then, as the wind seized the gleeas and the burning thatch, and, uplifting. Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred house-tops Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame inter- mingled. 5%^ fUy i P ' -""^ ■ * ( . >i w wi i <wp r yi' - 108 BVANGBI.INB. These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and on shipboard. Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their anguish, "We shall behold no more our homes in the village ofGrand-Prel" Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farmyards. Thinking the day had dawned; and anon the lowing of cattle Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs interrupted. Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleeping encampments Far in the western prairies of forests that skirt the Nebraska When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed of the whirlwind. Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river- . Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds and the horses Broke through their folds and fences, and madlg rushed o'er the meadows. Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest ?ind the maiden Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before them; And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion, Lol from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on the seashore Motion! pai Slowly ma Knelt a ter Then ir his Throng slu And wl mu Faces o: ing Pallid, 1 pas Still th< Ian Reddeni aro And lik sen Then a peo "Let us sea: Brings lam Then si chu Such W( has -«qn ^d on the aloud in he village 5w in the he lowing ig of dogs artles the 630 : skirt the J with the iish to the fht, as the ind madl -t\ chless, the lened and their silent hed abroad BVANGKUNB. 109 Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had de- parted. «« Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. Then in a swoon she sank and lay with her head on his bosom. Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber; And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a multitude near her. •« Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gaz- ing upon her, Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest com- passion. Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscape. Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces around her, And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses. * Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the people, — " Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier season Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land of our exile. Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the churchyard." Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by the sea- side, «6 '1.1 t,m. Zl 110 KVANOEUNB. Having the glare of thp burning village for funeral But wUho^t bell or book, they buried the farmer of Grand-Pre. , , ... And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of Lo! ^^tTi mournful sound like the voice of a vast congregation, . , * .^ Solemnly answered the sea, and mmgled its roar with the dirges. 'T was the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the ocean, , • ^ j With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying landward. , . j • < Then recommenced once more the stir and noise ot embarking; . , . ., - . r And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out of the harbor, , , , j 4.1,^ Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and th^^ village in ruins. SIXTH READING. Many a weary year had passed since the burning of When on the 'falling tide the freighted vessels de- BearFng^a nation, with all its household goods, into Exile without an end, and without an example in Far^Sfnder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed; Scattere wir Strikes t of I Friendh citj From tl sav From th the Seizes tl tot Deep in mai Friends ing Asked o nor Written chu Long an war Lowly a thii Fair wa ten( Dreary t pat] Marked su£f Passions aba: r funeral farmer of service of : of a vast its roar 680 the waste iving and I noise of led out of e, and the 065 burning of vessels de- goods, into :xample in Acadian s Hid ■iiiiiiiPilii iiiiiliiiiii BVANGBLINB. Ill Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wmd from the northeast Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of Newfoundland. Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city. From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savannas — From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father of Waters "^ Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean. Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth. Friends they sought and homes; and many, despair- ing, heart-broken. Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a fireside. Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchyards. *» Long among them was seen a maiden who waited and wandered, Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. Fair was she and young; but, alas! before her ex- tended. Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its pathway Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and su£fered before her, •* Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and abandoned, ill ■m-. ■^'mmmm 112 BVANOBLINS. As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is marked oy , , " , . 1.1 u • Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sunshine. Something there was in her life incomplete, imper- fect, unfinished; . , „ . . j As if a morning of June, with all its music and sun- SuddlnTy paused in the sky, and fading, slowly de- scended . , . , J Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever within her, j^u- * f Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of She woull commence again her endless search an^ endeavor; Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses and toinbstones, Sat by some nameless grav^, and thought that per- haps in its bosom, He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside him. . . , , , . Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her for ward. . , , 1 1. Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved and known him. But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgot- ten "Gabriel Lajeunesse I" they said; "Oh, yes 1 we have seen him. He was got Coureui tra] "Gabrie ha\ He is a Then w wai Are the: Who hs loy; Here is lov Many a Then w "I Whithe anc For wh illu Many tl dai Thereu] fes! Said, w spe Talk n wai If it en tui desert is )leach in e, imper- and sun- lowly de- arisen d by the i thirst of arch and ed on the that per- o slumber e whisper, in her for- 700 seen her or forgot- sl we have MMM vlw BVAN08LINH. 113 He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone to the prairies ; Coureurs-des-bois are they, and famous hunters and trappers." ^* "Gabriel Lajeunessel" said others; "Oh, yes! we have seen him. He is a voyageur in the lowlands of Louisiana." Then would they say, " Dear child ! why dream and wait for him longer ? Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel ? Others Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal? "" Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved thee Many a tedious year; come, give him thy hand and be happy !" Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, " I cannot ! Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere. ^** For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the pathway. Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness." Thereupon the priest, her friend and father con- fessor, Said, with a smile, "O daughter! thy God thus speaketh within thee ! Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; '" If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, re- turning 9 mam wH^ 114 BVANOBUNB. Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment ; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. Patience; accomplish'thy labor; accomplish thy work of affection ! Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient enduranw is godlike. .n i. i. * Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made godlike. Purified, strengthened, oerfectcd, and rendered more worthy of heaven 1 ' Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored and waited. - , Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the But with 'its sound there was mingled a voice that whispered, " Despair not ! " Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless discomfort, . Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns ot Let me essay, O Musel to follow the wanderer's foot- Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence; But as a traveler follows a streamlet's course through the valley: ,.1,1 Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water , ^ • ^ u Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; Then ^ glo Thougl mu Happy, an It wa Ri Past th ba! Into thi sis Floated boi It was 8h Nation ge Bound mi Men ai or Sought ac On th lo With Fi Onwai sc V mi mmmm. MmPH »*H BVANOBLINB. 115 fill them ( again to thy work ndurance the heart ired more le labored rge of the voice that •no cheerless thorns of irer's foot- ^eful year se through 786 the. gleam it intervals Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that conceal it, . Though he behold it not, he can hear it.> continuous murmur; , , Happy, at length, if he find a spot where it reaches an outlet. SEVENTH READING. It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful River, , • « ^ir Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wa- bash| 1 * 'r \it' Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mis- sissippi, . . - ,. Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen. . r *i. It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating to- gether, , ,. r J Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a com- mon misfortune; ., , , t. Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by hearsay. Sought for their kith and their kin among the few- "^ acred farmers . . ^ r • r\ On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair O^p^ lousas. -J ii. With them Evangeline went, and her guide, tlie Father Felician. Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre with forests, t< ; 116 EVANGELINE. Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river: . Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on its borders. Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, where plumelike Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the current. Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand- bars Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their margin, Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pel- icans waded. Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the • 760 river. Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gar- dens, Stood the houses of planters, with negro cabins and dove-cots. They were approaching the region where reigns per- petual summer. Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange and citron. Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the eastward. They; too, swerved from their course; and, entering the .Bayou of Plaquemine, Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious waters. Which, like a network of steel, extended in every direction. Over tl of Met in ail Waved cat Deathli th Home 1 SU1 Orbyl lat Lovely on Gleamc tai Down t ch Dreaml ar< And o'< an Strang( coi At:, at 1 Far in mi So, at 1 ev Shrink ha ''mm:^^'is:~.i-''i^>^mxi^'f^m<^^«.-''<it'--^*»'-' mmammmmmmm^ ^^^^^^Ta^ay^^E!isIi EVANGBLINB. 117 turbulent icamped on en islands, 7.-.r. they swept ilvery sand- Lg waves of x:ks of pel- liores of the 780 curiant gar- cabins and reigns per- 1 groves of iway to the id, entering ind devious id in every Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs of the cypress • , Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid- air ^™ Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient cathedrals. Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the herons Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset, Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac laughter. Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the water, ""^ Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sus- taining the arches, Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through chinks in a ruin. Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things around them ; And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder and sadness, — Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be compassed. "** At:, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the prairies. Par in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mimosa. So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil, Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom has attained it i % iiiiilKIIWJill Bl^ . .11 lid SVAMGBI.IN8. .. But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, that faintly , t. Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moonlight. It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a phantom. Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before her, And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer. Then, in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one of the oarsmen. And, as a signal sound, if others like them perad- venture Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast on his bugle. Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast rang, , . . Breaking the seal of silence and giving tongues to the forest. . . ^- j Soundless above them the banners of moss jUSt stirr^ to the music. Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant branches; But not a voice replied; no answer came from the darkness; And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pam was the silence. Then Evangeline slept; but the boatmen rowe^ through the laidnight, Silent a son Such as While t sou Far off, for< Mixed > the Thus shs Lay, in Water-1 tioi Made b the Lifted! me Faint v lia And wi isl Fragrai he Near tc sk Soon b; SUl Under th Safely thi a vision, n through umed the wandered lim nearer boat, rose lem perad- eams, blew idors leafy tongues to just stirred IK le distance, reverberant e from the :nse of pain men rowed BKL. BVANGBUM^. no Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat- songs, Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian nvers. While through the night were heard the mysterious sounds of the desert. Far off, — indistinct, — as of wave or wind in the forest. Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim alligator. Thus ere another noon they emerged from the shades ; and before them Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. Water-lilies m myriads rocked on the slight undula- tions Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the lotus Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boat- men. Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magno- lia blossoms, And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands. Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses. Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber. Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by the margin, Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on the greensward, 120 BVANOBUNa. Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers slumbered. Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the grapevine Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob, On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, de- scending, Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blos- som to blossom. Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she.slumbered beneath it. Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an . 1 835 opening heaven Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions celestial. Nearer, ever nearer, among the numberless islands, Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the water, Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters and trappers. Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison and beaver. ^^ At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thought- ful and careworn. Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a sadness Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. Gabriel and Sought i son Swiftly 1 isla But by 1 met So that inl All und wei Angel ing Swiftly the After tl inl As fron ma Said wi' Fe Someth wa Is it a i Or has spj Then, 1 lot Unto e mc But ma as A travellers :ope of a flower and KM) ladder of ading, de- from blos- sluinbered Lwn of an 835 of regions ;ss islands, y o'er the of hunters ,nd of the e thought- s brow, and vas legibly ■■>»^mmmmmmmiim mmmm inmmm09ma\ rn»t ^\ BVANGBLINB. 121 Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and restless, ir j r Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and <A sorrow. Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island, But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of pal- mettos; So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed in the willows; All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were the sleepers; Angel of God was their none to awaken the slumber- ing maiden. , ^ , ■• Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the prairie. . , , ,. j After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died in the distance, As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the maiden Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, "O Father Felician! « , • i Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders. Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition? Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my spirit?" ^ , Then, with a blnsh, she added, "Alas for my credu- lous fancyl Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning, )> But made answer the reverened man, and he smiled as he answered, — «f. 122 BVANGKLINB. "i "Daughter, thy words are not idle; nor are they to me without meaning, Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. Gabriel truly is near thee; for not far away to the southward, On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. Maur and St. Martin. There the long-wandering bride shall be given again to her bridegroom. There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his sheepfold. Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit-trees; Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest of « 800 heavens Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest. They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana." With these words of cheer they arose and con- tinued their journey. Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape; Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest Seemed mil Haugiu; silv Floated tioi Filled ^ sw« Toucho fee' Glowed arc Then ft wil Swingii wa Shook i mv That t see PlaintiA to Seemed Ba Single eni Till, ha in As whe tre Shakes e they to : floats on he anchor the world vay to the 855 ns of St. ven again :k and his forests of : bluest of 860 le walls of le Eden of i and con- he western d o'er the r and forest (MMMOMMMMI BVANGBUNB. 123 Seemed all on fire at the touch ; and melted and mingled together. Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver, Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the mo- tionless water. Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweetness. "^ Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountains of feeling Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters around her. Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water. Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music *" That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. Plaintive at first were the tones, and sad; then soaring to madness Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low, lam- entation ; Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, *" As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower 00 the branches, m i ffi ' i mmiinUB 124 BVANGBLINB. 11. With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with emotion, Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through the green Opelousas, And, through the amber air, above the crest of the woodland. Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neigh- boring dwelling ;— , ■ ,. , • Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of cattle. EIGHTH READING. Near to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks from whose branches Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted, Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide, ... J Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A garden Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blos- soms, ^, , . ,r Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers . „ ^ j Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted to- gether. Large and low was the roof; and on slender column^ supported, , , •, • Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda. Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. At each gar< Statione bol. Scenes c rivs Silence and Ran net was And fro par Into the ros In the I pat Throng lin Into wb ing Full in cai Hangii in Stood s grj Just th< Mount* sti Sat a de »mm m ; throbbed s through est of the 88.-1 a neigh- LUt lowing dowed by mistletoe latchets at HO herdsman, riant blos- I itself was y fitted to- sr columns 895 d spacious ;, extended BVANGBUNH. 125 At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden, Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual sym- bol. Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in shadow, And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly ex- panding Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless prairie. Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descend- ing. Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas . , i Hanging loose from their spar in a motionless calm in the tropcis. Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grapevines. Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the prairie, Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups, Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin. .,; m mmt^mm^gm, 126 BVANOBUNV. »2») Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish sombrero Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of Its master. Round about him were numberless herds of kine that were grazing Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape. Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his s*de, and expanding Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that re sounded Wildly and sweet and far, through the still dan.], air of the evening. Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean . Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie, And the whole mass became a cloucl, a shade in the distance. Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through tbfe gate of the garden Saw he the forms of the priest and the iriaiden ad- vancing to meet him. Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amaze- ment, and forward Pushed with extended arms and exclamations of won- der; Whent bla Hearty gai There i an: Gave t1 fri« Laughi the Thougl doi Stole o' em Broke At How h boi OverE Tears < ul< "Gone? on All hei an Thent as "Be of de Foolisl SVANOBLINB. 127 under the ily look of >f kine that the vapory elf over the is side, and ist, that re- 11 dattij. air lomsof the currents of ring rushed lade in the 925 se, through niaiden ad- 5 in amaze- ions of won- When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the blacksmith. Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly embraces, lyaughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful. Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and misgivings ** Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed, Broke the silence and said, "If you came by the Atchafalaya, How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the bayous?" Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a trem- ulous accent, "Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his shoulder^ All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented. Then the good Basil said,— and his voice grew blithe as he said it, — "Be of good cheer, my child; it is only today he departed. Foolish boyl he has left me alone Avith my herds and my horses. P m 946 mmmmm 'h * 128 8VAKOBUNS. Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, liis spirit Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet exis- tence. Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent him Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards. Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains, Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver. . Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fu^ tive lover; He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are against him. Up and away tomorrow, and through the red dew of the morning, We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison » Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of the river, Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the fiddler. ^ **" Long under Basil's roof had he lived, like a god on Olympus, Having tals Far ren fidd "Long 1 mir As they stra Father ] the Kindly enr Hailed gos Laughii dai: Muchtl bla All his del Much tl the And of wh Each 01 an< Thustl vei Entere( SU] Waited tog URMWWI >ubled, liis luiet exis- sorrowful is troubles, len and to ought tne, >s with the the Ozark s trapping 7 the fugl- es and the red dew of »ack to his t from the Michael the 980 ; a god on EVANOKUNK. 129 Having no other care than dispensing music to mor- tals. Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. "Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrell" As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straightway ** Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the old man Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, enraptured, Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips, Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and daughters. Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci-devant blacksmith, "" All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor ; Much they marvelled to hear bis tales of the soil and the climate, And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who would take them ; Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do likewise. Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the breezy veranda, Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper of Basil Waited his late return ; and they rested and feasted together. ido KVANGKLINK. Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness de- scended. All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape with silver. Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within doors, Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glimmering lamplight. Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the herdsman . , Poured forth his heart and his wme together in end- less profusion. Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchi- toches tobacco, , -I J -1 J Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smile^ as they listened : — "Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been friendless and homeless. Welcome once more to a home, that, is better per- chance than the old one ! , , J 1M *i,^ Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like tne Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer; , , . -i „„ „ Smoothly the plowshare runs through the soil, as^ keel through the water. . All the year round the orange-groves are m blossom , and grass grows More in a single night than a whole Canadian sum- Here?T(i, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the prairies ; Here, fo With J in After 3 w: No Ki fr Burnii fa Speak h: While 01 Sotha a: Sudde h But t n "Onh For it Cured a Then s Sonne V It wa I Who t iKIIIIIIIllllllllHHIIIIWIIIf ■>» EVANGEUNK. 131 irkness de- i landscape I stars; but wo lends in the if the table, ther in end- reet Natchi- u and smiled ^ see ) long have i better per- lood like the vratH of the the soil, as a 900 : in blossom ; nadian sum- id unclaimed Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of timber , > j With a few blows of the axe are hewn and iramed into houses. After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with harvests. No King George of England shall drive you away from your homesteads. Burning your dwellings and bams, and stealing your farms and your cattle." Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils, , . j While his huge, brown hand came thundenng do\m on the table, t^ ,. . So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded, «. , ir Suddenly paused, with a pinch :>{ snuff half-way to his nostrils. But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and gayer:— "Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the feverl ,. ,. MM For it is not like that of our cold Acadian chmate. Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell!" Then there were voices heard at the door, and foot- steps approaching Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters, Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the herdsman. Liuwi i ii l ii » '! -«J.-JI.JH|.,-lli,.UI.U,,- ' -, i .MHJUU 132 BVANCBLINB. Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors: -i t. i. Friend clasped friend in hli arms; and they who before were as strangers, r • j * Meeting in exile, became straightway as fnends to each other, Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. . But in the neighboring hall a stram of music, pro- From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle, ■•••• i-Mj Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted. All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the maddening Whirl of the dizzy dance as it swept and swayed to the music, , m ^^ Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of flutter- ing garments. Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the herdsman Sat, conversing together of past and present and While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible SSIQIICSS Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the garden. ,J3ffi*^ rw nw iMM«iat)JM -ades and ;hey who friends to 1 country usic, pro- WI5 melodious i children nselves to swayed to lofflutter- , the priest esent and , foi within idst of the repressible forth into BVANGSLINB. 133 Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of the forest, Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the river Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of the moonlight, Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious spint. Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the garden Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and confessions Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian. Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and night-dews, Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the magical moonlight Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable long- ings, As, through the garden gate, and beneath the shade of the oak-trees, Passed she along the path to the edge of the measure- less prairie. Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire^ies Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God m the heavens, Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and worship. Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple, '4 ■Mij - wi" iL ,, jt vM\mm mmmf^^imi9mmmi^immfmmmi>f^ ii«in«Piipip>nN*M*>~ 134 BVANOBLINS. As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Upharsin." And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire-flies. Wandered alone, and she cried, "O Gabriel! O my beloved! Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thei? . Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me? Ah! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie! Ah ! how often thine eyes have looked on the wood- lands around me ! Ah! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor. Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slumbers! When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee?" Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwiU sounded Like a flute in the woods ; and anon, through t^ neighboring thickets. Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. "Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular cav- erns of darkness ; And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, "To-morrow!" Bright rose the sun next day ; and all the flowers of the garden Bathed his With tl of " Farev shi "Seetl fa£ And, t bri " Fare\ Ba Down 1 w« Thush sh Swiftlj sp Blown dc Notth ce Found ri Nor, a ai Rumo d( Till, a Wear ■;itfls««»»«w-»»';*"ww' »«)Mi*«aHnmM on them, itars and 1046 ill Omy )t behold does not th to the the wood- loeo -om labor, of me in be folded ippoorwill rough the I0» )pped into cular cav- esponded, :he flowers BVANGBLIMtt. 135 Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his tresses . . With the delicious balm that they bore m their vases of crystal. "Farewell!" said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy threshold ; « /. ,. "See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting and famine, And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bridegroom was coming." " Farewell ! " answered the maiden, and, smihng, with Basil descended Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were waiting. Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sun- shine, and gladness, . Swiftly they followed the flight of him who was speeding before them. Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that sue- Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, Nor, after many days, had they found him ; but vague and uncertain .,j ji Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and desolate country ; Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from t^ garrulous landlord ., , That on the day before, with horses and guides and companions, li ■ 1 " W M 'w mm mmmmi''^'^ mm 136 EVANGELIKR. Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. ,- NINTH READING. Far in the West there lies a aesert land, where the mountains Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and lumi- nous summits. Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, like a gateway. Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's wagon. Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and Owyhee. Eastward, with devious course, among the Wind-rivre Mountains, Through the Sweet- water Valley precipitate leaps the Nebraska ; And to the south, from Fontainetquibout and the Spanish sierras, /"" Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of the desert. Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the ocean, Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibrations. Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beautiful prairies, Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sun- shine, Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas. Over th an( Over tt les Fires tl wil Over tt chi Stainin ril Circles tui Like tl in By inv; Here a sa' Here a ru And tl th Climbs th And o he Like 1 th Into Gabrie b< 1 of the irliere the md lumi- rhere the loeo migrant's eway and ^ind-rivre leaps the and the 1086 the wind , descend id solemn vondrous, 1 and sun- 1080 ad purple BVANGBUNB. 137 Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk, and the roebuck ; Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of rider- less horses ; Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with travel ; Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children, *"* Staining the desert with blood ; and above their ter- rible war-trails Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vul- ture. Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in battle. By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage marauders; """ Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift- running rivers ; And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of the desert. Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the brook-side. And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven. Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. "* 1106 Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark Mountains, Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind him. mmhmmmipmmk: 138 BVANGKUNE. Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and Basil , t. j * Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake him. , .t. i Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his camp-fire Rise in the morning air from the distant plain; but at nightfall, , r j i When they had reached the place, they found only embers and ashes. j u • And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies were weary, Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Mor- ShowS'them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished before them. Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently Into the little camp an Indian woman, whose features Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as her sorrow. . , She was a Shawnee woman returning home to tier Froir°the' far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel Camanches, ^ v • Where her Canadian husband, a coureur-des-bois, had been murdered. Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and friendliest welcome Gave they, the words of cheer, and she sat and feasted among them Onth< But wl he maiden ,ch day to the smoke UIO plain; but bund only s and their Fata Mor- reated and 1115 ere silently ase features as great as jme to her the cruel iiao ;ur-des-bois, md warmest she sat and »«»M# \, J^i^^^^^MWm^M. BVANOBUNB. 139 On the buflFalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his companions, "® Worn with the long day's march and the chase of the deer and the bison, .'Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where the quivering fire-light plashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms wrapped up in their blankets, Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and repeated Slowly, with soft, low voice, and the charm of her Indian accent, "* All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, and reverses. Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been disappointed. Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's compassion. Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had sufifcred was near her, "* She in turn related her love and all its disasters. Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she had ended Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious horror Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale of the Mowis; Mowis, the bridecfroom of snow, who won and wedded a maiden. 1 1' lUO mmmmmmmmmif BVANOBUKS. But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the wigwam, , ,. , . • *. *i. Fading and melting away and dissolvmg mto the Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far into the forest. Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seemed like a weird incantation, Told she the tale of the fair Lilinau, who was wooed by a phantom, That, through the ^ines o'er her father's lodge, in the hush of the twilight. Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the maiden, Till she followed his green and waving plume through the forest, . , And nevermore returned, nor was seen agam by Her SilenHSth wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline listened . , .„ ^. To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region around her , , , ^x. Seemed Uke enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest the enchantress. Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose, . . ■ ' . Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the woodland. With a ddicious sound the brook rushed by, and the branches w?;;^'M^ ! ^ ' ^wgjm^.-!.hiiiiJi i J ! .'L i 'Ji. SVANOBUNS. 141 ssed from into the Uowed far Led like a vas wooed 1I4K Ige, in the pered love le through ain by her Evangeline 1160 the region ir swarthy mtains the mysterious racing and . 1155 by, and the Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whispers. Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart, but a secret, Subtile sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the swallow. "" It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region of spirits Seemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a moment That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phantom. With this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom had vanished. Early upon the morrow the march was resumed, and the Shawnee "* Said, as they journeyed along, — "On the western slope of these mountains Dwells in his little village the Black Robe chief of the Mission. Mnch he teaches tha people, and tells them of Mary and Jesus ; Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as they hear him." Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline answered, " Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us ! " Thither they turned their steeds ; and behind a spur of the mountains. Just as the sun went down, they heard «. murmur of voices, 142 BVANORLINK: And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a r^ver, . , . /• ^.i. Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit Mission. Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the village, , . Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children. A crucifix fastened , j j u High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grapevines, , . ^ , i Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneel- ing beneath it. ^ , , . • This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the in- tricate arches . Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers, Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs of the branches. Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer approaching, Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening devotions. , , , j-\" But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen Forth from the hands of the pnest, like seed from the hands of the sower. Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, and bade them Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with benignant expression. Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the forest, • . u- And with words of kindness conducted them into his wi^am. Ill SVANOBLINS. 143 bank of a Its of the idst of the ildren. A adowed by tude kneel- airh the in- 1180 vespers, t and sighs iers, nearer the evening benediction im ;ed from the e strangers, imiled with )ther-tongue tiem into his There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of the maize-ear Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the teacher. Soon was their story told ; and the priest with solem- nity answered : — "Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, seated On this mat by my side, where now the maiden re- poses, Told me the same sad tale ; then arose and continued his journey I" Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent of kindness ; But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter the snow-flakes Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. "Far to the north he has gone," continued the priest v "but in autumn, *"" When- the chase is done, will return again to the Mission." Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and submissive, " Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted." So seemed it wise and well unto all ; and betimes on the morrow. Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and companions, ^^ Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at Uie Mission, MMRI Wf'^ 144 SVAMGELIMB. Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, — Days and weeks and months ; and the fields of maize that were springing Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now waving about her, Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, • <• • 1210 and forming Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by squirrels. Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the maidens Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover, But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the corn-field. Even the blood-red ear to Evafigeline brought not her lover. "Patience !" the priest would say ; "have faith, and thy prayer will be answered 1 Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from the meadow. See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true as the magnet ; This is the compass-flower, that the fingerof God has planted Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's • 1230 journey Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste .of the desert. Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, Foun eeded each Is of maize she came, interlacing, mo es pillaged as husked, tetokened a t a thief in trought not 1216 ; faith, and i head from 1, as true as r of God has e traveller's ISSO f&ste .of the blossoms of BVANGBLINS. 148 Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance, , , • But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly. Only this humble plant can guide us here, and here- after Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of nepenthe." So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter- yet Gabriel came not ; Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robin and bluebird Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came not. But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted Sweeter than the song of bird, or hue or odor of blos- som. Far to the north and east, it is said, in the Michigan forests, r * ey • Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw River. , , , , e And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Lawrence, Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission. When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches, ,,. , . She had attained at length the depths of the Michi- gan forests, Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to ruin! I .1 It ■ 140 I(VANGBI.Um. Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in sea- sons and places . Divers and distant far was seen the wandennj maiden; — , ,, Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian Missions, Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the army, Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. Like a phantom she came, and passed away unre- membered. Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty, , , j Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and the shadow. Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o'er her forehead. Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthy horizon, , As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning. TENTH READING. In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware's waters, * Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, an Findini 8VANGSUNS. 147 i in sea- andering 1840 Moravian is of the populous ray unre- >egan the 1S45 ntment it ' from her gloom and ks of gray ;r earthly mo iks of the ed by the » Penn the Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. . There all the air is balm, and the peach is the em^ blem of beauty. And the streets still reecho the names of the trees of the forest, , ^ j i. As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested. , j j There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile, ^ ^ , , Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country. , ,. , , • t There old Rene LebUnc had died; and when he departed, ^ ^ Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descend- Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city, , j i. Something tb. spake to her heart, and made her no longer ?* ler; ' And her ear a eased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers, , ,^ . j. ^ im For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters. So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed en- deavor. Ended, to recommence no ipcre upon earth, uncom- ThitSer, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and her footsteps. ^ As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning 148 BVANGBUNS. Roll away, and afar we behold the landscape below us, Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets, So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far below her, Dark no longer, but all illumined with love ; and the pathway Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the distance. Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image. Clothed m the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him, Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence. Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not. Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but transfigured ; . He had become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent; Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others. This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her. So was her love dififused, but, like to some odorous spices, Su£fered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with 1886 aroma. Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to fol- low, Meekly with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour. below us, ities and ; saw the ; aud the li and fair 1875 rt was his s last she Ice -silence for it was : changed, 1880 dead, and L to others, orrow had le odorous be air with 1886 but to fol- eet of her BVANGBLINB. 149 Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; frequenting Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city. Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sunlight, '*" Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. Night ttfter night when the world was asleep, as the watchman repeated Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city. High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the suburbs '** Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the market, Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchings. Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city. Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wild pigeons. Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but an acorn. '*" And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of September, Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the meadow, So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural mar- gin, .,ii»,aM^mK»adbef iai ti u mK M\T 0m a taM8lHliiff(S^ m EVANOaUNA. Spread to a brackish lake the silver stream .of exist- ence. , , Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charmj the oppressor; But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anfifer*""" Only, alas! the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants, - , Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. ., . , Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of meadows and woodlands; — Now the ci^y surrounds it; but still, with its gateway^ and wicket Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seem to echo Softly the words of the Lord:— "The poor ye always have with you." Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy. The dying Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to be- hold there ^ ^ , ,. J vt. Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor. Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and apdstles, . ^ j- *. Or such BS hangs by night o'er a city seen at a dist- ance. ^ *. , •. 1 Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celes- Into ihose shining gates erelong their spirits would enter. Thus ser Wendit ak Sweet c th< And si an Thattl Then, co< Distant be While, w< Sounds th Soft as h( Sometl ex And, \ ht Noisel ai Moistc ix Closin of exist- ;o charm, 1805 e of his ends nor me of the ' meadows 5 gateway Lble walls ^e always Sister of ied, to be- head with saints and sn at a dist- city celes- Irits would BVAMOBtlNA. 151 Thus, on a Sabbath mom, through the streets, de- serted and silent, Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. Sweet on the summer air was Uie odor of flowers in the garden. And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among them, ^ , . r That the dying once more might rejoice in their fra- grance and beauty. .' Then, as she mounted the stairs to the comdofs, cooled by the east wind, Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of Christ Church, While, intermingled with these, across the meadows were wafted « j • Sounds of psalms, that were sung "by the Swedes m their church at Wicaco. Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her spirit; . ' Something within her said, "At length thy trials are ended;" , '~ And, with light in her looks, she entered the cham- bers of sickness. Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attend- ants. Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in silence Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing their faces. Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow by the roads;de. Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, 152 EVANOEUKR. Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her presence Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison. And, as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, , j i. i j .. Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed U forever. Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night time; , , , , Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. Suddenly, as if arrested, by fear or a feeling of wonder, , ,. .i Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudder Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped from her fingers. And. from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morning. Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terri- ble anguish. That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. , , , f f On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man. , , , , i. j j Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples; But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment . Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood; spi That tl pai Motion: % e passed, the walls eath the healed it 1S40 ;he night trangers. eeling of t, while a flowerets 1845 3d bloom uch terri- rom their brra of an at shaded 13B0 face for a its earlier I BVANOBLINB. 153 ^ are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying. Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever, As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had be- sprinkled its port.:ls, "* That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit exhausted Seemed to be sinking down through inflnite depths in the darkness, Darkness of slumt-er and death,; forever sinking and sinking. Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverberations, **" Heard he that cry of pf in, and through the hush that succeeded Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint- like, "Gabriel! O my belovedl" and died away into silence. Then he beheld, in a dream, once more the home of his childhood; Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them, "* Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under their shadow. As in the days of her youths Evangeline rose in his [vision. Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids, Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his bedside. T 184 WAKOKUNS. Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accente unuttered , •• t. . t.- Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken. Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling beside him, . , , . * Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into darkness, r • j *. As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at^^ casement. All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, , • t- r AH the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish ot And,^as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, "Father^ I thank theel" Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are Under*Se°humble walls of the little Catholic church- In tlfe^eart of the city, they lie, unknown and un- Daily ^e tides of life go ebbing and flowing besi^ them, 1 SVANOBLINB. 198 le accents isro what his kneeling r bosom. :n1y sank wrind at a 1375 ,r, and the insatisfied nguish of lead to her I, "Father, 1880 away from lovers are ilic church- n and un- ing beside Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and forever, Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy, Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from their labors, Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their journey! Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches ""* Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy; *"" Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun, And by the evening nre repeat Evangeline's story, While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neigh- boring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. Yo Ml Whe find ■ons thel Th th« bow tura in cc . educ ofm each lesK) Th« worl sket fori '\ ter t have -' speci •nd I •laoll ever a The Plan Books. FOR PRIHARV AND INTERMEDIATB QRADBS. T»n Quid— or Seto of Plans. One for <ach month In the school y r. Nothing to compare with them ever issued. A favorite with progreggive teachera In all parts of the country. Your ^Vork ^° •chool work can be well done tW ii not Mfia* Ka DlannA#l *••' ?'""»«'• What to plan and how to pUn inUSl Dv fianneQ are problems every teacher ia now working ont. What material to uae for the different seasunH of the year and where to find this material, are questions all are asking. How to correlate these les- sons and find suggestions which will enable teachers to use this material to the best advantage when found, all wish to know. The Purpose of They aim, an far as possible, to supply the fWa Plan RnnL-a teacher'n needs in this direction; to assist the uiv r-iaii DUUKS teacher in making out her daily plans; to show how school work may be correlated; to enable her, from its references, to turn at once to the needed book for the appropriate song or story to be ised in connection with the day's lessons; to provide seat work which will 1 of educational value, and to save money spent by the teacher in the puri. lase of many books for the sake of a very little which may be used in school work. The Pl^N Book has been isHued in ten numbers or volumes, one for each month of the school year, bringing to hand the material for each day's lessons and plans. Ths> f^nnf Anfe consists of science or natnre lessons, Mack- I nc uonKniS board reading lessons, drawing lessons, seat work, related songs, poems, stories and gems for literature work, sketches of authors, studies of children of other lands, and programmes for specisi days or nationalJiolldays. Bach number baa 112 large pages, and is the best, most practical mat- ter to be had for the money. Issues such as December and February have several half-tone engravings. Each issue has many good pictiues sod special songs. PRICE FOR ANY MONTH, 28 CENTS. THE 10 MONTHS. SEPT EMBER TO JUNE. INCLUSIVE. $2.00. AUTUMN— September, October, November, 336 pages, flexible cloth. |1.00. WINTER— December, January, February. 336 pages, |1.00. SPRINO— March, April, May, June, 448 pages, $1.00. The three volumes for '|2.50. Total set con- tains 1,120 pages. Send for a copy and you will want all of them. Bound Volumes Cbicaoo, January lo, 189S. afy Onr Sir.— 1 have received the Janu- ••17 Plan Book, it it in keeping with the others. I most cordially approve of it, •nd shall t^ke the first opportunity to recommend it to my teachers. I may say •ISO it is the first thtuf of the kind I hsvc ever seen which I can fully approve. Yours very truly, OayiLLB T. Skiort, Co. Sup*., Cook Co., lU. \. PLANAQAN. . Marsraix, Mich. Our teachi;ri are enthusiastic iq praiic of the Plan Books. Quite a number have a full set, and the general exprCMion is, "The best thing out.'*^ You deserve the tiuwks not only of the-«rlmary tcacht . ^•'• of «ll teachers, for publishing these h'f-/1t.i. B. P. I.0Hm, Supt. ot' <icuool». 267, WABASH AV6NUB, CHKJAaO. lU* LJJh£4dij*Jj> . THE STORt aF LAFAYETTE. VOR I1ITBB^1>IATB OBADSS. f Mt RMon The fint real attempt %o give the history of thi. """^W* nanSShi, achie4nenu in rtory form, miited to the t«te a«d .bUity of pupils of the third and fourth grades. r%» tktOM a The author is a teacher of Wi4« wtperience, thorough schol- SLST^ * «Aira«d litemrj. ability, who h«l brought idl these de, *^ to bear in the writing of the most succe«f «1 Wographicl story yet published. TMffMt HI The widespread iuterestin Lafayette at this time tak« ta, SSSdl coniectlon with the intern* patriotic feeling «c«.tly aw*^ ^S'wiU give wisedirection to much of that feeling, afld make plam to X>SSe awful price of our liberties, a. well « *«-«» S*«^SS ^^Vgh motives, noble chararter and pure petnotum, ^^ and stllj contribute toward the principal of Uberty. tMiiM ini The «thor has told a truthfid story In a Oar^it^ way. SSSirfil" embodyfug the fruit of extensive reading and w*^** » *2SSform. The Wstoric facts are absolutely reliablej and the story ■^t^SSng ian fiction, while the Uterary. finish is all that could ^f^^^fZ muLtions U fine and add to t^ i^wery way liivttictkc In fi«*. Ufayette the man. Jiafayette-^ warrior, are the aame afi I^ayette. the heroic and dil«*'~ ^'^''-fjf,*^ ^leis Washington, ^ttte story is timely. imter,sH^f,intis^g, w«ll-told Sw^tsdapted tot»e asa supptementwy readerorlibtary book. 9MMt il ttM. It contafais the fioems spokeaby the children of Nepr York, SSL sSr' M^aSusetU MTconnecticut in 1824. when Lafiyette t». ^'^^^LJ^^^^'^^ ^ ««y origim.1 dotumenta, «^ ^ ^^Sr^..'-*i-g it a mme of info«ution «da l^^^', ^io th* teache. and pupU. All tbisn»tfrial is so deftly woven lnt» th« story as to mske the past seem present. ■^m::.^1^. , -jjg educational value of Uiis remarkable book is hey8«4 iS^ computation, and it wUl do much to make ta^ny f^J^ rij^yettee who will fight th* great batUes for human Uber^ w toe tweH^ tieth century. ^ -A-i • ^ H. Fb^lHAG^N* <it1fjG^II0d mftrkable abUityof igh schol- tbese d«> gtpry yet ! faken in itly itm^- liow much »fitritMit«d »if^ way. Mich ia % L tlie story tivat could if the book yt, are the lend of the g, wftU^old NewYtak, af tiyette iae* itt«,attch«a j^t tiiae- woveniato t. iabeyoaid y Americaa 1 the tweii,'^ CAQO f