21 

MAIN 




HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



the authentic story" of 
her country* and her 
people, illustrated 
iU color. 



UC-NRLF 




B E 




LIBRA Y : 

UNIVERSITY OF j 
CALIFORNIA J 



EVANGELINE 

WITH AN ILLUSTRATED 
DESCRIPTION OF THE 
EVANGELINE COUNTRY 



BY 

HENRY 

WADSWORTH 
LONGFELLOW 



JOHN F. HERBIN 



Only descendant of the original 

Acadians now living on 

the home soil. 



TORONTO 

THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY 
LIMITED 




Copyright, Canada, 1921 

By 

THE MUSSON BOOK CO., LIMITED 
PUBLISHERS TORONTO 



j ALL CANADIAN PRODUCTION 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Evangeline s Well Cover Design 

At Annapolis Royal 7 

(Old Port Royal) 

Bear River 11 

The Blue Boat 17 

Blomidon, Low Tide 21 

Gaspereau River and Blomidon 21 

(Scene of the Deportation) 

The Stone Cross 27 

(Acadian Burying Ground) 
Map of Evangeline Country 33 

Evangeline 41 

(From the Painting) 

Scotch Covenanter Church 49 

(Grand-Pre) 

Village Smithy 49 

(Grand-Pre) 

The Evangeline Statue 67 

Original Acadian Willow-Trees 67 



INTRODUCTION 

The Evangeline Country 

"Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its 

bosom 
He was already at rest; and she longed to slumber beside 

him." 

GRAND-PRE, the home of Evangeline, seldom 
fails to impress the stranger, who sees it for 
the first time, with a sense of its rich loveli 
ness. It would be difficult to find a more delightful 
setting for the story of the Acadian maiden, separated 
from her betrothed lover, Gabriel, and sent into exile 
with her people. 

The country fronting the present Grand-Pre is 
broadly open to the Basin of Minas. The dyked 
marshes extend for miles in blocks of pasture, grain, 
and haylands. Great creeks which once the mighty 
tides of the Bay of Fundy filled till the meadows were 
submerged with the turbid waters ; red channels of the 
winding rivers beyond; and the great stretch of the 
Basin of Minas, purple-fringed by the distant hills, all 
combine to make this an idyllic setting. 

At the time of the Deportation of the Acadians, in 
1755, most of the farm land, flanked by the dyked 
meadows, from the Gaspereau River to Kentville, held 
the villages and small hamlets of the people. Upon the 
descending slopes on both sides of the Gaspereau Val- 

3 



EVANGELINE 

ley that lies south of Grand-Pre, other populous vil 
lages, pastures and farms, clustered as far as the 
present village of the name, Gaspereau. 

North and west, as far as Pereau, under the North 
Mountain, the rich Acadian country of Canard lay upon 
the banks of the four rivers, fronting always the mea 
dows of marsh that spread away from the swift tidal 
streams. 

This was the Minas country of the Acadian period, 
divided into two parishes, Grand-Pre and Canard, 
separated by the present Cornwallis River. In 1750, 
five years before the removal of the inhabitants, Minas 
had a population of four thousand. There were thirty- 
five villages, named after the original founders who 
came from Port Royal Gaspereau and Grand-Pre 
were the only exceptions. 

Upon the Grand-Pre meadows may be seen the 
thirteen sections of dykes raised from time to time, 
till the whole extent of marsh became enclosed. It 
was a laborious work for the people, who numbered 
only four hundred in 1700. Most of the marshes were 
enclosed during the following forty years as the fami 
lies grew to manhood, and new settlers came. Upon 
these lands they had their pastures, hay and grain 
areas fenced in. Upon the undyked marshes they cut 
the coarse salt grass. 

As the forest lands were cleared of wood, they were 
used as pastures. Beyond these, stretched the pri 
meval forests on all sides. Orchards of apple and 
pear, and garden plots lay near the homes. Fish were 
abundant in the sea beyond. By boat the settlers were 



EVANGELINE 5 

able to pass from place to place, for the rivers made 
convenient ways for travel. 

Grand Pre 

While the name Grand-Pre was given in general to 
the Minas country south and alongside the Cornwallis 
River, the village of the name was adjoining the Mem 
orial Park land. It had twenty-three inhabitants liv 
ing upon three farms. The cellars of the three homes 
may be seen to-day. The largest was on the west side 
of the Park. The other two, upon the gentle slope 
south. They were the properties of Pierre Landry, 
Jean le Sour, and Jacques Terriot all prominent and 
prosperous men in the little community. 

The knoll of land, consisting of fourteen acres, now 
called the Grand-Pre Memorial or Historical Park, lies 
adjoining the dyked lands. It is enclosed by a rustic 
fence, and is separated by the Dominion Atlantic Rail 
way from the farms on the slope rising to the south. 
The ground was used for church purposes, and the 
chapel stood upon the highest part of the knoll. Where 
the stone cross stands was the burying ground of the 
Grand-Pre Acadians of the parish of St. Charles. 
The church land had been given for the purpose by the 
original Landry, and formed part of his farm. About 
the year 1687, the first church was built, and enlarged 
or rebuilt as the population increased. Few dykes had 
been erected at this time, and the tides of the Basin of 
Minas came within a few hundred feet of the church 
land. In the burying ground were laid the first to die 
in Minas. Melansons, Terriots, Le Blancs, Landrys, 
and other families mingle their dust there. The cross 



6 EVANGELINE 

without names, built of stone from some of their home 
foundations, marks where they lie forgotten. 

The Presbytery stood on the foundation west of 
the church site. This was occupied by Colonel Win- 
slow when his troops were encamped about the church 
yard, on the eve of the Deportation. The row of wil 
lows on the north side of the Park grounds was set out 
to shield the church from the north winds that swept 
across the open dyked lands. 

The bronze figure of Evangeline (see page 67), 
represented as looking back upon the country of her 
people as she set out to depart with them from Grand- 
Pre, will always typify the Deportation of the Acad- 
ians, the commencement of the period of exile and wan 
dering. The statue stands upon the old road by which 
the people reached the church, and is but the com 
mencement of restoration work projected for the His 
torical Park at Grand-Pre. (At the summit of the 
slope south this road joined the main highway running 
from the Gaspereau River to the farther villages of 
the Acadians.) The statue was modelled by Philippe 
Hebert, himself a descendant of the Acadian family of 
the name. Etienne Hebert was one of the first colon 
ists to come to the Minas country from the home 
colony of Port Royal, now Annapolis Royal. This 
family increased in numbers in Minas, and two villages 
bore the name, one in Minas and the other in Canard. 
There were fifty Heberts at the time of the dispersion. 

We may now review the growth of the Acadian 
Minas from the coming of the first settlers in 1681 to 
the year 1755, when Colonel John Winslow, with the 




At 

Annapolis 

Royal 



The 
Old Porr Royal 



At Annapolis Royal once the busy capital one 
is struck by the peace and content which seem to 
reicn everywhere, and perhaps the most p3aceful 
spot is amongst the grass-grown ramparts of the 
old Fort softened and rounded by time, and in 
summer carpeted with wild flowers. A magnifi 
cent sweep of the wide river mouth lies in front, 
and the Fort, built on a high bluff, looks over the 
valleys of the Lequille and Annapolis Rivers on 
either hand. The buildings still standing are the 
officers quarters, which are interesting, and no 
doubt were considered luxurious in those days, 
and the old powder magazine, built nearly three 
centuries ago, and still in excellent repair. A 
horrible dark dungeon, chill and damp, is built 
under the ramparts at one angle, and the pictur 
esque sally port is still much as it was in olden 
days. 



EVANGELINE 9 

New England volunteers, encamped upon the church 
ground of St. Charles at Grand-Pre. In December of 
that year the houses and barns, churches and mills of 
the Acadians were destroyed, and for five years the 
country was without an inhabitant. We have the 
names of the older parents, of their children, their pos 
sessions. We also have record of the younger married 
couples who came to make homes in the new country 
of Minas. The villages grew chiefly in clusters about 
the establishments of the elders. Dykes were built. 
Land was cleared of wood for their gardens and 
orchards. Roads were made connecting all the centres 
of farm life. Winter roads for their timber, fencing, 
and firewood were made. Finally, they cut a way 
through the forests from Halifax to Annapolis Royal. 
They were increasing in population, and in worldly 
goods. 

The Three First Families 

Perhaps before entering directly upon the historical 
aspects of the Evangeline country, it would be inter 
esting to know something of its outstanding families, 
members of which figured prominently in the later 
history of the place. 

The three most picturesque and important persons 
in the history of the Minas country are Pierre Melan- 
son, Pierre Terriot, and Rene LeBlanc. 

The Melansons (Gaspereau) 

In a census of the Port Royal people, made in 1671, 
the name Pierre Melanson appears, but with no account 
of his family or possessions. He refused to give the 



10 EVANGELINE 

facts asked for. There has been some doubt as to his 
antecedents, although he was a man of importance, and 
his name appears in several historical documents. Some 
think he was the son of the Scotchman, Pierre Melan- 
son, who remained in Acadia after the colony under 
Sir William Alexander was broken up in 1632. 

It has been ascertained, however, that Pierre Melan- 
son was a tailor and farmer of considerable wealth, 
when he sold his Port Royal property in 1669. He was 
also Captain of militia, and a man of mark among the 
oldest inhabitants of that place. His courage and 
enterprise are shown by his removal to the unsettled 
country of Minas in 1681. His selection of the Gas- 
pereau Valley for his new home, points to a knowledge 
of the country, for he settled in the most beautiful and 
favorable situation in the region. It was at the head 
of the tide, sheltered, with extensive marshes, and rich 
uplands suitable for farming. The forests lay upon 
the hills, the stream teemed with gasperot, salmon, 
and trout. The Basin of Minas could be easily reached 
at high tide by boat. Conditions were most favorable 
for the development of the little colony, and those 
which soon sprang up in that neighbourhood (Gas- 
pereau) and at Grand-Pre. 

The Gaspereau villages grew in importance, and 
were among the richest and most populous in 1755. 
The Melansons numbered about eighty souls, and were 
connected by kinship and marriage with all the Acad 
ian families of Minas. 

It was one of the daughters of this Pierre Melanson 
who married the "Notary Public" of Longfellow s 
Evangeline. 




Bear 
River 



Bear River nestles deep down in a little valley 
about five miles from the sea on a river from 
which it takes its name. At low tide there is very 
little river to be seen it is reduced to a tiny 
stream that seems to trickle with difficulty through 
vast stretches of mud. But when the tide does 
come up it alters the whole appearance, and the 
place seems to come to life again as the strong 
current pushes its way up running far up the 
little streams, and beneath the houses, which are 
built out over the river bed, at the bridge, on 
high wooden gater, giving a wonderfully pic 
turesque effect, and reflecting all shades of color. 
The town scrambles up the steep hills, which rise 
sharply on either side, and beautiful views of the 
winding river may be seen from almost any 
point, and quantities of cherry trees everywhere 
add to the picturesqueness whether in blossom 
or laden with the ripe fruit. 



EVANGELINE 13 

"Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, 
Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary 

public; 

Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maise, hung 
Over his shoulders; his forehead was high; glasses with horn 

bows 

Sat astride his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal. 
Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred 
Children s children rode on his knee, and heard his great 

watch tick." 

Another daughter, Anne, married Thomas Jacasse, 
and it was their son who later refused to sign the de 
liberations for the surrender of Quebec. 

The Terriots (The Cornwallis) 

The next colonist who came to establish himself in 
Minas was Pierre Terriot from Port Royal. He is an 
important and interesting figure in the history of the 
country. His coming dates but a short time after 
Pierre Melanson s arrival. Terriot selected the fine 
situation near Kentville, upon the present Cornwallis 
River, with natural conditions similar to the Gaspereau 
Valley. Good upland for farms, and extensive areas of 
marsh near the head of the tidal stream, afforded 
favorable means for the development of his farming 
operations. His home on the south side of the river 
was ten miles from Melanson s, and the expansion of 
growth was each toward the other. The farm areas 
soon extended alongside the marshes into what became 
the Grand-Pre district. 

Pierre Terriot, like Melanson, came out from Port 
Royal, where his father had settled before him. Port 
Royal was the parent colony (1632, under Commander 



14 EVANGELINE 

Razilly) from which all the Acadian districts received 
their first colonists. 

Pierre Terriot was a colonizer, and an interesting 
figure in the early days of Minas. Although he had no 
children by his wife Cecile Landry, he encouraged 
migration from Port Royal to the wilderness, the rich 
country of Minas that surrounded him. Young couples 
soon came, relatives of the Terriots and Landrys, and 
others, who for a time enlarged their holdings more 
rapidly than those who came to Grand-Pre and Gas- 
pereau. The founder, Terriot, who was in good cir 
cumstances, aided the newcomers with grain and stock, 
and as has always been the custom of the Acadians, the 
settled people cut the timber, built the foundations and 
homes, and helped the young couples to start in life. 

Pierre Terriot s home was, moreover, the asylum for 
orphans and widows, till the children grew up and were 
able to set up for themselves. The settlers married 
young, and were encouraged to do so, for they were 
a home-loving people, and industrious. 

"Their dwellings were open as day, and the hearts of the 
owners; 

Where the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abund 
ance." 

The Terriots numbered about fifty, and were also 
settled in other parts of Nova Scotia. This region 
seemed to attract the younger people from the older 
and more thickly settled country of Port Royal. It was 
favorably situated, more remote from the New Eng 
land colonies, and so conditioned that all who came 
could acquire land and make homes. 



EVANGELINE 15 

Next to the Grand-Pre Park land, the New Minas 
relics of the Terriot settlements and the work of their 
descendants are the most numerous and interesting. 
Many cellar foundations remain as they were left in 
1755 after the houses and barns were burned. The 
English colonists of 1760 raised their houses farther 
away from the marshes, so that the Terriot landmarks 
for the greater part still remain undisturbed. Some of 
their houses were forty-five feet square, with huge 
chimneys built outside ten feet square at the ground, 
traces of which still remain. 

The Le Blancs (Grand-Pre) 

Among the later arrivals were the le Blancs, whose 
children added considerably to the growth of popula 
tion, and whose importance and prosperity make them 
outstanding persons in the country. 

The first Le Blanc was Daniel, born in France in 
1626. Thousands of his descendants are to be found 
in America to-day. He arrived in Acadia in 1650, with 
his wife, Francoise Gaudet. He settled in Port Royal 
about nine miles above the fort. When that place fell 
to the English under Phipps, in 1690, Le Blanc was 
among those appointed to administer the affairs of the 
Province until the arrival of a Governor. His name is 
found on the census of 1671, 1686, and 1693. He had 
probably died before the next census in 1698, as his 
name does not appear then or afterwards. He lived 
to be about seventy years old, in spite of the trying 
and laborious period through which the people of 
Acadia lived. 



16 EVANGELINE 

The four sons of the first Port Royal Le Blanc set 
tled upon the present Grand-Pre lands very soon after 
Melanson had become established on the Gaspereau 
and Terriot on the Cornwallis. 

The village, Jean Le Blanc, in 1775, had eight 
families. Village Pierre Le Blanc had fourteen, and 
Grand Le Blanc had thirteen. The Le Blancs appeared 
also in other villages. 

This family was related to all the older stock of 
Acadian families, to be found in 1755 throughout the 
whole of settled Nova Scotia. 

The history of Grand-Pre, by which is meant, the 
annals of the country contiguous to the Memorial Park, 
the Grand-Pre of the present day, in a sense, is the 
family history of the Le Blancs. One member of the 
family, Rene, was an historical character. 

Other Names 

In the census made of Minas in 1618, about five 
years after Pierre Melanson s advent to the Gaspereau, 
the families of 

Pierre Melanson 
Martin Ancoin, 
Phillippe Pinet, 

Etienne Hebert (Forebear of the sculptor 
menitoned previously 
author of the Evangeline 
statue), 

Noel de la Bove, 
Francois la Pierre (or la Roche), 
Etienne Rivet, 
Pierre Terriot, 




The 

Blue 

Boat 



The two or three rivers which flow into the 
Basin of Minas at Five Islands are all picturesque 
with their old fishing boats stranded high and dry 
or afloat. It is fascinating to watch the great 
schooners make their way up on the tide to some 
lumber mill or wharf a mile or so inland, where 
at low tide even the smallest boat can scarcely 
pass. There is a fascination, too, in the tides, 
as they race over the great flat stretches a 
steady onward flow, swift and relentless, till the 
water once more washes round the crumbling 
sandstone cliffs, floating the laden schooners and 
the tiny fishing boats which hurry away on the 
tide, and somehow leave one feeling forlorn, till 
they come back once more on the next tide. 



EVANGELINE 19 

are mentioned with particulars of their worldly condi 
tion and size of family. 

Three of the Minas inhabitants mentioned on the 
1686 list, de la Bove, la Pierre, and Rivet, were new 
comers to Acadia, and for some reason failed to make 
headway in the country. Their descendants were few, 
and the names disappear from the annals. 

The Canard District 

The Melansons , Terriots , and Le Blancs holdings 
all extended east or west, south of the Cornwallis 
River. North of this stream, another section was ex 
panding, but more slowly, although conditions were 
favorable there for colonization. 

As the Canard region become populated, crossings 
were made to reach the villages at low tide over the 
Cornwallis River. A road was made connecting the 
up-river settlements with Grand-Pre to the Gaspereau, 
where the principal centre of Minas developed, with its 
church, its protected landing-place and port for vessels, 
its store-house, and the office of the Deputy, where 
deeds and important documents were kept. 

Thus Canard grew, and finally a beautiful church 
was built there. The Cornwallis River divided the 
parishes of Canard and Grand-Pre, but the whole 
region was rapidly growing in population and wealth, 
till it was entering upon the period preceding the De 
portation. A thousand Acadians departed from Minas 
about 1750, so that in 1755 there were about three 
thousand remaining in the two parishes. 



20 EVANGELINE 

Leading Up to the Expulsion 

The French colonists of Nova Scotia were con 
stantly subjected to attacks by British colonial forces. 
In 1613, Port Royal, again in 1654, La Have, and in 
1700, Minas were razed and completely destroyed by 
these armies. The older Acadians and their sons, 
accustomed to the conditions of the country, quickly 
recovered from these attacks. The later comers, how 
ever, were not so well fitted to cope with the difficulties 
of the new life, and the new names died out or did not 
increase so quickly as the original stock, the hardy, 
thrifty peasantry from the west coast of France. 

These repeated expeditions against the French 
colonies were the outcome of strong inimical feeling 
both at home and abroad. The British colonies of 
America greatly outnumbered the French of Canada 
and the Province, and the desire to remove the 
Acadians from the peninsula, and thus break the back 
bone of the French colonial enterprise, had been grow 
ing for several years. 

This sorry task finally fell to the lot of Lieutenant- 
Colonel Winslow, under the specific orders of Governor 
Lawrence of Halifax. In August, 1755, he came with 
three hundred men, and in conjunction with Captain 
Murray, then in command of Fort Edward, arranged 
the details for the capture and removal of the people. 

At the time of Winslow s arrival with his troops in 
ships, the priests of Grand-Pre and Canard had been 
removed to Halifax as prisoners. All the guns owned 
by the Acadians had been seized, yet the coming of the 
troops and their use of the church and burying-grounds 




gj 

-| 



BLOMIDON LOW TIDE 

Showing the path of the retreating water from the land. At 
high tide the water reaches up the cliffs, covering marsh and 
filling stream .... 




GASPEREAU RIVER AND BLOMIDON 

Scene of the Deportation. 



EVANGELINE 23 

as an encampment did not arouse suspicion as to the 
purpose of the visit. The people had frequently seen 
both French and English soldiers quartered in their 
country. 

The Acadians were gathering their harvests when 
Winslow arrived from Cumberland and marched from 
Gaspereau Landing to the church at Grand-Pre. As 
we read his own account of that stay, we realize his 
repugnance at the harsh duty before him the task of 
using military force to expel a quiet, happy people 
from its home-place particularly in the face of the 
total inadequacy of ships provided for the purpose. 

As the winter set in, the miseries of the people 
bore heavily upon him, and his feeling in the matter is 
thinly concealed in the account of the affair as set down 
in his Journal. 

From this same Journal we learn that he used the 
Presbytery as his headquarters, and that in the church 
yard the tents of the soldiers were pitched; that the 
camp was protected by a pallisade, and that full mili 
tary discipline was enforced. 

The Deportation 

The poem, Evangeline, tells the story of the 5th of 
September, 1755, and what followed. 

As the crops were to be gathered early in that dry 
year, this date was fixed upon for summoning the men 
and boys of the district to the church to receive their 
brutal orders to hear the proclamation declaring 
them prisoners of the Crown; their homes, their lands, 
th sir holdings, confiscate. It was a bitter time for both 



24 EVANGELINE 

those who spoke and heard. It is not difficult to imagine 
the emotion of Lieutenant-Colonel Winslow, as he de 
livered his blighting message of exile to these strong 
sunburnt fathers and sons of Minas, anxiously waiting 
his words. 

When Winslow departed from Grand-Pre in No 
vember, all the outlying villages had been destroyed. 
Canard s church, the mills, houses, and barns were in 
ashes. Except for the shelterless animals that wan 
dered about close upon starvation, nothing remained. 
The inhabitants, carrying with them as many of their 
household effects as the weather and the cramped 
accommodations of the ships would permit, had gone. 
A pitiful season followed. The pathetic scenes of the 
Deportation are almost indescribable. Through mili 
tary necessity, perhaps fear of insubordination, parent 
was separated from child, lover from lover, brother 
from brother. As many as possible were loaded im 
mediately upon the waiting vessels. Six hundred and 
fifty were quartered about the villages of the Le B^ancs, 
three hundred of whom were embarked in December. 
A week later, the remainder were sent off, and the 
houses they had occupied destroyed. The church 
which the soldiers had used as quarters was probably 
the last building to stand. 

Two Interesting Incidents 

Two rather interesting incidents in connection with 
the Deportation which have come to notice, follow. 

Although all records of births, deaths, etc., were 
destroyed or in part lost, one of the Piziquid exiles 
carried the deed of his grandfather s property with him 



EVANGELINE 25 

to Philadelphia. The writer saw this document in 1920, 
still held by a descendant as a precious relic. 

Rene Le Blanc, mentioned above as figuring in his 
tory, came to notice at this time in the following man 
ner. Winslow, evidently touched by the man s age 
and gentleness of character, made a special request to 
headquarters that Le Blanc be permitted to return to 
his home in Marshfield, but the old man was sent to 
New York with his wife and two children, out of the 
twenty of his family. His grandchildren numbered 
over a hundred. Later he found three more of his 
children in Philadelphia, where Rene died. 

The Acadians were scattered throughout the British 
colonies. A few who escaped, wandered over the 
country to be later apprehended and deported. A num 
ber more found their way unharmed into the wilder 
ness of New Brunswick, but by 1763 there were less 
than 1,500 who had escaped the removal. 

There is a tradition based upon traces of dwellings 
found in the woods south of New Minas, that a few 
escaped Acadians lived there through the following 
winter. These few either were captured or later joined 
those retreating into New Brunswick. 

After the expulsion of the French settlers, Great 
Britain, to induce settlers to come to the country of 
Horton and Cornwallis from the older English colonies, 
sent out an invitation with a description of the coun 
try: 

"One hundred thousand acres, of which the country 
has produced wheat, rye, barley, oats, hemp, flax, etc., 
without failure for the last century; and another 



26 EVANGELINE 

hundred thousand acres are cleared and stocked with 
English grass, planted orchards and embellished with 
gardens, the whole so intermixed that every individual 
farmer might have a proportionate quantity of plowed 
land, grassland, and woodland." 

This appeared in 1759. In June, the next year, after 
the country was viewed by agents from New England, 
the people came to occupy the vacated lands. With 
the assistance of the Acadian prisoners remaining at 
Fort Edward, the dykes were repaired, and the country 
began to thrive with new life upon the grave of the 
old. 

The last written trace of the Acadians in a body, 
appears in an order issued from Halifax in 1762, caus 
ing one hundred and thirty of them to be sent from 
Hants and King s counties, where they were working 
for English inhabitants. 

For the English settlers, the farm lands were divided 
into hundred-acre lots. New roads were laid out, and 
the old Acadian landmarks are now gradually disap 
pearing. A single farm to-day perhaps occupies the 
site of a whole village of Acadian times. Willows still 
mark roads or the buried foundations of their homes. 
Their apple trees yet bear fruit, sometimes found among 
the wild, recent growth, or in pastures. Roads and 
dykes may be traced, and numerous cellars in out-of- 
the-way places where they have not been disturbed. 

In the history of the English colonies during the 
next twenty years following upon the re-settlement of 
the Acadian country of Grand-Pre, affairs went topsy 
turvy. French Canada was lost to France through 




THE STONE CROSS 



EVANGELINE 29 

the operations and strength of the colonies under Eng 
lish rule. New England strengthened Nova Scotia for 
England by removing the Acadians, and then bringing 
her people to the deserted farmlands. 

Conclusion Acadia Then and Now 
The memory of the courageous heart-high peas 
antry that first peopled and made home of a wilderness, 
remains fresh in the present-day Acadia. 

The garden-plots cleared upon the uplands near 
their homes, their orchards laid out in rugged rows, 
still bloom for us who know that country. We still 
find the roads leading to the dykes by the rivers, even 
traces of the trails originally reaching back to the 
wild pastures ; the dykes upon which so much time and 
labor were expended season after season an arduous 
work when Acadia s population was yet so small. The 
wild luxurious beauty of the place to-day, its blossoms, 
its fruit, its vivid dunes, its picturesque water-ways, the 
daily romance of the rushing tide for which the little 
boats thirst on the sand hour by hour bring back 
afresh the quaint pictures of its early days. The quiet 
grazing cattle might still be the hardy kine that lived 
through those early winters on the abundant after-feed 
of the settlers dyked lands. Every aspect of the place, 
the almost hidden ruins here and there, Evangeline s 
well, the rough stone cross that marks the grave of a 
village, the virility of the bronze Evangeline, make real 
the pathos of this people now scattered broadcast 
through America, in whose souls the love of their 
country, Acadia, is as potent now as then. Neither 
time nor the Deportation have caused them to lose 



30 EVANGELINE 

their identity as a distinct people, for a quarter of a 
million in America are the same Acadians who went 
into exile from Nova Scotia from 1755 to 1763. 

The Origin of "Evangeline" 
There is a close connection between the story which 
supplied the basis of the poem, Evangeline, and the 
Acadian people. In 1838, Hawthorne entered in his 
Note-Books the following : 

"H. L. C. Heard from a French-Canadian a story 
of a young couple in Acadie. On their marriage day 
all the men of the Province were summoned to assemble 
in the church to hear a proclamation. When assem 
bled, they were seized and shipped off to be distributed 
through New England, among them the new bride 
groom. His bride set off in search of him, wandered 
about New England all her lifetime, and at last found 
her bridegroom on his deathbed. The shock was so 
great it killed her likewise." 

Longfellow s final decision to adopt the name 
Evangeline for his poem, rather than Gabrielle (which 
was the name of the heroine of Mrs. Williams story 
of "The Acadian Exile") has given existence to a char 
acter that will live for all time. 

Origin of Names in "Evangeline" 
Another name to be perpetuated by history is 
Acadie, or Acadia as it is known at the present time. 
Whether we accept the statement or not that the Ital 
ian navigator, Verrazano, who explored the American 
coast as far as New York, called the country "Arcadie", 
because of the magnificence of the trees, there will be 



EVANGELINE 31 

preference for the Micmac Indian origin of the name, 
"Acadie." The country was visited by Breton and 
Basque fishermen a hundred years before the settle 
ment of Port Royal in 1605. From that time the Mari 
time countries of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and 
part of the State of Maine, were named Acadie. Many 
places to-day retain their original Micmac names. We 
have Benacadie, Katakaddy, Shubenacadie, Shun- 
acadie, with the meaning, "abundance of," or "the place 
of" certain things. As we know, Nova Scotia is in 
truth Acadie. 

The Bay of Fundy comes from "au fond du Baie," 
as the Port Royal people designated the head of that 
great tidal stream. The discovery of native copper and 
coal led to the naming of the headland at the upper 
end of the Bay of Fundy, "Les Mines." This name was 
extended to designate the country about the Basin of 
Minas connected by Minas Channel with the great Bay. 

Grand-Pre and Canard, the original names of the 
Acadian period, are still used to distinguish the town 
ships of Horton and Cornwallis. The Gaspereau River 
and Valley, New Minas, Habitant and Pereau, remain 
the memories of the Acadian period. 




TOURIST S GUIDE 

To The 

EVANGELINE 
COUNTRY 

Sites of Acadian Villages .... 
Churches 

Roads . . ==== 



BMMMO BY PELL 1 8ARNHART. FT ERIE, 



THE POEM 

EVANGELINE 



Thousands of throbbing hearts, ivliere theirs are 
at rest and forever, 

Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no 
longer are busy, 

Thousands of toiling hands, ivhere theirs have 
ceased from their labours, 

Thousands of weary feet, ivhere theirs have com 
pleted their journey I 



EVANGELINE. 



prelu&e. 

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and 

the hemlocks, 
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in 

the twilight, 

Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic, 
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their 

bosoms. 
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighbouring 

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 Acadian 

farmers, 

Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the wood 
lands, 10 
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of 

heaven ? 
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 of 

Grand-Pre. 1* 

37 



38 EVANGELINE 

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and 

is patient, 
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman 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 tbe Jfirst 



i. 

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, 20 
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 the farmers had raised with labour 

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. 
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 moun 
tains 
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty 

Atlantic 3 

Looked on the happy valley, but ne er from their station 

descended. 

There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian vil 
lage. 
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. 



EVANGELINE 39 

Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows ; and gables 

projecting 35 

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 distaffs spinning the 

golden 40 

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. 
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 matrons and 

maidens. 46 

Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate wel 
come. 
Then came the labourers home from the field, and serenely 

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 as 
cending, 50 
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 ; 66 

But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of 

the owners; 
There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in 

abundance. 



40 EVANGELINE 

Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin 

of Minas, 

Benedict Belief ontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand Pre, 
Dwelt on his goodly acres; and with him, directing his 

household, 60 

Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the 

village. 
Stalworth 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 sum 
mers; 65 
Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn 

by the wayside, 
Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade 

of her tresses ! 
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 noon 
tide 
Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair in sooth was the 

maiden. 70 

Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from 

its turret 
Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his 

hyssop 
Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon 

them, 
Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads 

and her missal, 
Wearing her Norman cap and her kirtle of blue, and the 

ear-rings 75 

Brought in the olden times from France, and since, as an 

heirloom, 

Handed down from mother to child, through long genera 
tions. 

But a celestial brightness a more ethereal beauty 
Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after 

confession, 




EVANGELINE 
From the painting. 



EVANGELINE 43 

Homeward serenely she walked with God s benediction 
upon her. 

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exqui 
site 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 wreathing 
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 pent 
house, 

Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the road 
side, 

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 90 

Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the 
horses. 

Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the 
barns and the farm-yard; 

There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique 
ploughs and the harrows; 

There were the folds for the sheep ; and there, in his feath 
ered seraglio, 

Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the 
selfsame 95 

Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter. 

Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. 
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 corn- 
loft. 

There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent 
inmates 10 



44 EVANGELINE 

Murmuring ever of love ; while above in the variant 
breezes 

Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mu 
tation. 

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, 105 

Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest de 
votion ; 

Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of 
her garment ! 

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; 110 

Or, at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the village, 

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 blacksmith, 115 

Who was a mighty man in the village, and honoured 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 cf the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church 
and the plain-song. 

But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson com 
pleted, 



EVANGELINE 45 

Swiftly thev hurried away to the forge of Basil the black 
smith. 

There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to be 
hold him 126 
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a play 
thing, 
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, 13 

Warm by the forge within they watched the labouring 

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 eagle, 
Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o er the 

meadow. 135 

Oft in the barns 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 ! 
Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were 

children. 14 

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 Saint Eulalie " was she called; for that was 

the sunshine 
Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards 

with apples; 146 



46 EVANGELINE 

She too would bring to her husband s house delight and 

abundance, 
Filling it full of love and the ruddy faces of children. 



II. 

Now had the season returned, when the nights grow 

colder and longer, 

And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters. 
Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the 

ice-bound, 150 

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 the 

angel. 

All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 
Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their 

honey 155 

Till the hives overflowed ; and the Indian hunters asserted 
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 16 

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, 165 

All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the 

great sun 
Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapours 

around him; 



EVANGELINE 47 

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 man 
tles and jewels. 17 

Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and 

stillness. 
Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight 

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 freshness of 

-i 7c 

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 favourite 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 ; 
Eegent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their 

protector, 
When from the forest at night, through the starry silence, 

the wolves howled. 185 

Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the 

marshes, 

Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odour. 
Cheerily neighed the steeds with dew on their manes and 

their fetlocks, 
While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous 

saddles, 
Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of 

crimson, 19 



48 EVANGELINE 

Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blos 
soms. 

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 descended. 

Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the 
farm-yard, 195 

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 20t) 

Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind 

him, 

Nodding and mocking along the wall with gestures fan 
tastic, 
Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into 

darkness. 

Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair 
Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on 

the dresser 206 

Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the 

sunshine. 

Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christ 
mas, 

Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him 
Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian 

vineyards. 
Close at her father s side was the gentle Evangeline 

seated, 10 

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, 




SCOTCH COVENANTER CHURCH 

Built at Grand-Pro 1805. 




VILLAGE SMITHY GRAXD-PRE. 



EVANGELINE 51 

Followed the old man s song, and united the fragments 

together. 
As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals 

ceases, 215 

Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the 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, sud 
denly lifted, 
Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its 

hinges. 
Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the 

blacksmith, **o 

And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with 

him. 
" Welcome I" the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps 

paused on the threshold, 
" Welcome, 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 pipe and the box of 

tobacco; 225 

Never so much thyself art thou as when, through the 

curling 
Smoke of the pipe or the forge, thy friendly and jovial 

face gleams 
Eound and red as the harvest moon through the mist of 

the marshes/ 
Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the 

blacksmith, 

Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fire 
side: 230 
" Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and thy 

ballad ! 
Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are filled 

with 

Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before them. 
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a 

horseshoe." 



52 EVANGELINE 

Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline 
brought him, ^5 

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 com 
manded 

On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty s 
mandate 2 40 

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 ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests 
in England 

By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been 
blighted, 245 

And from our bursting barns 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 
Eoyal. 

Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its out 
skirts, 250 

Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to 
morrow. 

Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all 
kinds ; 

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, 255 

Safer within these peaceful dikes besieged by the ocean, 



EVANGELINE 53 

Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy s cannon. 
Fear no evil, 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 26 

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 ink- 
horn. 
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 entered. 



III. 

Bent like a labouring oar, that toils in the surf of the 

ocean, 
Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary 

public ; 
Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, 

hung 27 

Over his shoulders: his forehead was high; and glasses 

with horn bows 

Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal. 
Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hun 
dred 
Children s children rode on his knee, and heard his great 

watch tick. 
Four long years in the times of the war had he languished 

a captive, 275 

Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the 

English. 
Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion, 



54 EVANGELINE 

Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and child 
like. 

He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children; 

For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest, 28 

And of the goblin that came in the night to water the 
horses, 

And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who un- 
christened 

Died, and. was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of 
children ; 

And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable, 

And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a 
nutshell, ~ 85 

And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and 
horseshoes, 

With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village. 

Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the black 
smith, 

Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending 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 demeanour made answer the notary 
public, 

te 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 intention - 95 

Brings them here, for we are at peace; and why then mo 
lest us?" 

" God s name I" 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 notary 
public, 30 

" Man is unjust, but God is just ; and finally justice 



EVANGELINE 55 



Triumphs ; and well I remember a story, that often con 
soled me, 

When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port 
Royal." 

This was the old man s favourite tale, and he loved to re 
peat it 

When his neighbours complained that any injustice was 
done them. 305 

" Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer re 
member, 

Raised aloft on a column a brazen statue 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 pre 
sided 

Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the 
people. 31 

Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the 
balance, 

Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine 
above them. 

But in the course of time the laws of the land were cor 
rupted ; 

Might took the place of right, and the weak were op 
pressed, and the mighty 

Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman s 
palace 315 

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 scaffold, 

Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. 

As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit as 
cended, 

Lo ! 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 wa^ found the nest of a magpie, 

Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was in- 



56 EVANGELINE 

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 vapours 

Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the win 
ter. 

Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the table, 33 

Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home 
brewed 

Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the vil 
lage of Grand-Pre; 

While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and ink- 
horn, 

Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of tho 
parties, 

Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in 
cattle. * 

Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were com 
pleted, 

And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the 
margin. 

Then from his leathern pouch the 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 bride 
groom, 34 

Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare. 

Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and de 
parted, 

While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside, 

Till Evano-eline brought the draught-board out of its corner. 

Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old 
men 345 

Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre, 

Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made 
in the king-row. 

Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window s em 
brasure, 

Sat the lovers and whispered together, beholding the moon 
rise 



EVANGELINE 57 

Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the mead 
ows. 35 
Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, 
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 straight 
way 

Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the 
household. 355 

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. 

Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline fol 
lowed. so 

Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness, 

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 * 5 

Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline 
woven. 

This was the precious dower she would bring to her hus 
band in marriage, 

Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a 
housewife. 

Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radi 
ant moonlight 

Streamed through tne windows, and lighted the room, till 
the heart of the maiden 37 

Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of 
the ocean. 



58 EVANGELINE 

Ah ! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood 
with 

Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her cham 
ber! 

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. 37 

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 mo 
ment. 

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, 38 

As out of Abraham s tent young Ishmael wandered with 
Hagar. 



IV. 

Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of 

Grand-Pre. 
Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of 

Minas, 
Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding 

at anchor. 
Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous 

labour 3J * 5 

Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the 

morning. 

Now from the country around, from the farms and neigh 
bouring hamlets, 

Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. 
Many a glad ^ood-morrow and jocund laugh from the 

young folk 
Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous 

meadows, 3ao 



EVANGELINE 59 

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the 
greensward, 

Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on tho 
highway. 

Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labour 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 simple people, who lived like brothers to 
gether, 

All things were held in common, and what one had was 
another s. 

Yet under Benedict s roof hospitality seemed more abun 
dant: 

For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father ; 40 

Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome 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 betrothal. 
There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the 

notary seated; 405 

There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. 
Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the 

beehives, 
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 41 

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 Us Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon de Dun- 

Icerque, 



60 EVANGELINE 

And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. 

Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying 
dances 41 ^ 

Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows ; 

Old folk and young together, and children mingled among 
them. 

Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict s 
daughter ! 

Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the black 
smith ! 

So passed the morning away. And lo ! with a summons 

sonorous 42 

Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a 

drum beat. 
Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, 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 42 

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, 4ao 

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal com 
mission. 
" You are convened this day," he said, " by his Majesty 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. 435 

Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our 

monarch : 



EVANGELINE 61 

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 ! 44 
Prisoners now I declare you, for such is his Majesty s 

pleasure V 

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 corn in the field^ and shatters his 

windows, 
Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from 

the house-roofs, 445 

Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures ; 
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. 

V 7 ain 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, 455 

" Down with the tyrants of England ! we never have sworn 

them allegiance ! 
Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and 

our harvests !" 
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. 



62 EVANGELINE 

In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry con 
tention, 4 <>o 

Lo ! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician 

Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the 
altar. 

Eaising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into 
silence 

All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his peo 
ple; 

Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and 
mournful 465 

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 laboured among you, and 
taught you, 

Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another! 

Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and 
privations? 47 

Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and for 
giveness ? 

This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you 
profane it 

Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with 
hatred? 

Lo! where the crucified Christ from His cross is gazing 
upon you! 

See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy 
compassion! 47i) 

Hark ! how those lips still repeat the prayer, * Father, 
forgive them! 

Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked 
assail us, 

Let us repeat it now, and say, Father, forgive them ! K 

Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of 
his people 

Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate 
outbreak, 4 

While they repeated his prayer, and said, "0 Father, 
forgive them \" 



EVANGELINE 63 

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, 485 

Rose on the ardour of prayer, like Elijah ascending to 

heaven. 

Meanwhile had spread in the Tillage 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 splendour, 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; 
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 tha 

farmer. 

Thus did Evangeline wait at her father s door, as the sunset 
Threw the long shadows of trees o er the broad ambrosial 

meadows. 

Ah ! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen. 
And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial as- 
t scended. 50 

Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness and 

patience ! 

Then all forgetful of self ehe wandered into the village, 
Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of the 

women, 



64 EVANGELINE 

As o er the darkening fields with lingering steps they de 
parted, 

Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their 
children. * 

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering 
vapours 

Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending 
from Sinai. 

Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. 

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline 

lingered. 
All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the 

windows 5i 

Stood she, and listened and looked, until overcome by 

emotion, 
"Gabriel \" 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. 5l5 

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phan 
toms 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 slum 
bered till morning. 



EVANGELINE 65 



V. 

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. 6 - 5 

Soon o er the yellow fields, in silent mournful proces 
sion, 

Came from the neighbouring hamlets and farms the Aca 
dian women, 

Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the 
sea-shore, 

Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwell 
ings, 

Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the 
woodland. 53 

Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the 
oxen, 

While in their little hands they clasped some fragments 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; 635 

All day long the wains came labouring 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 from 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 54 

Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. 
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 descended 



66 EVANGELINE 

Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and 
their daughters. 645 

Foremost the young men came ; and, raising together their 
voices, 

Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Mis 
sions : 

" Sacred heart of the Saviour ! inexhaustible fountain ! 

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 55 

Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine 
above them 

Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits de 
parted. 

Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, 

Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of afflic 
tion, 

Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession ap 
proached her, 5 ^ 5 

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, 

" Gabriel ! be of good cheer ! for if we love one another 

Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may 
Happen!" ""> 

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 em 
braced him, 

Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort 
availed not. 

Thus to the Gaspereau s mouth moved on that mournful 
procession. 




THE EVANGELINE STATUE 

The statue stands upon the old road by which the people 

reached the church. It is the work of Philippe Hebert, himself 

a descendant of the Acadian family of the name .... 




ORIGINAL ACADIAN WILLOW-TREES. 



EVANGELINE 69 

There disorder pevailed, and the tumult and stir of em 
barking. 

Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion 
Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, 

saw their children 57 

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 575 

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. 
Further 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 off by the sea, and the sentinels near 

them, 5 

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 stranded boats of the 

sailors. 
Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their 

pastures; 5b5 

Sweet was the moist still air with the odour 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 roofs, and gleamed no lights from 

the windows. 59 

3 



70 EVANGELINE 

.But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been 

kindled, 
Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks 

in the tempest. 
Bound 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, 5y5 

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. 

" Benedicite!" 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, 
Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence 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 sor 
rows of mortals. 
Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in 

silence. 



EVANGELINE 71 

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, 615 

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 quiv 
ering hands of a martyr. 6::0 

Then as the wind seized the gleeds 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. 

These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore 
and on shipboard. 

Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their 
anguish, *> 2 * 

"We shall behold no more our homes in the village of 
Grand-Pre !" 

Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farm 
yards, 

Thinking the day had dawned; and anon the lowing of 
cattle 

Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs inter 
rupted. 

Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleeping 
encampments 63 

Far in the western prairies of forests that skirt the Ne 
braska, 

When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed 
of the whirlwind, 

Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river. 



72 EVANGELINE 

Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds 

and the horses 
Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed 

o er the meadows. 63 & 

Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest 
and 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 com 
panion, 

Lo ! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on 
the sea-shore 

Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had de 
parted. 64 

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 multi 
tude near her. 645 

Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing 
upon her, 

Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest compassion. 

Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the land 
scape, 

Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces 
around her, 

And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering 
senses. 65 <> 

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 church- 

- J- v 

yard." 
Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by 

the sea-side, 656 

Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches, 
But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of 

Grand-Pre. 



EVANGELINE 73 

And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of 
sorrow, 

Lo! with a mournful sound like the voice of a vast con 
gregation, 

Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the 
dirges. 66 

Twas the returning tide, that afar from the waste of the 
ocean, 

With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying 
landward. 

Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of em 
barking ; 

And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out of the 
harbour, 

Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village 
in ruins. 6e * 



part tbe Second 
I. 

Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand- 

Pre, 

When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed, 
Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile, 
Exile without an end, and without an example in story. 
Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed ; ezo 
Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind 

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 675 

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. 



74 EVANGELINE 

Friends they sought and homes; and many, despairing, 
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 wan 
dered, 

Lowly and meek in spirit and patiently suffering all things. 

Fair was she and young ; but, alas ! before her extended, 

Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its 
pathway 

Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suf 
fered before her, 

Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and 
abandoned, 

As the emigrant s way o er the Western desert is marked by 

Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the 
sunshine. 

Something there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, 
unfinished ; 

As if a morning of June, with. all its music and sun 
shine, 6SO 

Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly descended 

Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen. 

Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever 
within her, 

Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the 
spirit, 

She would commence again her endless search and en 
deavour ; 

Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses 
and tombstones, 

Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in 
its bosom 

He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside 
him. 

Sometimes a rumour, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, 

Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her for 
ward. 7UO 

Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved 
and known him, 



EVANGELINE 75 

But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. 
" Gabriel Lajeunesse !" they said ; " Oh, yes ! we have seen 

him. 
He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone to 

the prairies; 

Coureurs-des-bois are they, and famous hunters and trap 
pers/ 5 
" Gabriel Lajeunesse I" 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? 71 <> 

Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary s son, who has loved 

thee 
Many a tedious year; come, give him thy hand and be 

happy ! 

Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine s tresses." 
Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, "I 

cannot ! 

Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and 

not elsewhere. 715 

For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines 

the pathway, 

Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in dark 
ness." 

Thereupon the priest, her friend and father confessor, 
Said, with a smile, " daughter ! thy God thus speaketh 

within thee ! 

Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was 
wasted ; 7 -o 

If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning 
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 labour; accomplish thy work of 

affection ! 

Sorrow and silence are strong and patient endurance i8 
godlike. & 



76 EVANGELINE 

Therefore accomplish thy labour of love, till the heart is 
made godlike, 

Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more 
worthy of heaven! 

Cheered by the good man s words, Evangeline laboured and 
waited. 

Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the ocean, 

But with its sound there was mingled a voice that whis 
pered, "Despair not!" o 

Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless dis 
comfort, 

Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of ex 
istence. 

Let me essay, Muse! to follow the wanderer s foot 
steps ; 

Not through each devious path, each changeful year of 
existence ; 

But as a traveller follows a streamlet s course through the 
valley: 5 

Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its 
water 

Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only ; 

Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that 
conceal it, 

Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous 
murmur ; 

Happy, at length, if he find a spot where it reaches an 
outlet. i 

II. 

It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful 

Eiver, 

Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash, 
Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi, 
Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian 

boatmen, 

It was a band of exiles; a raft, as it were, from the ship 
wrecked 745 
Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together, 
Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common 
misfortune; 



EVANGELINE 

Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by 

hearsay, 
Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-acred 

farmers 
On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Ope- 

lousas. 50 

With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father 

Felician. 
Onward o er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre 

with forests, 

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 755 

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 pelicans 

waded. 
Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the 

river, 76 

Shaded by china-trees in the midst of luxuriant gardens, 
Stood the houses of planters, with negro cabins and dove 
cots. 
They were approaching the region where reigns perpetual 

summer, 
Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange and 

citron, 

Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the east 
ward. 7G5 
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 their heads the towering" and tenebrous boughs of the 

cypress 

Met in a rhisky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air 77 
Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient 

cathedrals. 



78 EVANGELINE 

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, ??5 

Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining 

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 com 
passed. 
As, at the tramp of a horse s hoof on the turf of the 

prairies, 
Far 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. 
But Evangeline s heart was sustained by a vision, that 

faintly 785 

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, 79 

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, 



EVANGELINE 79 

Breaking the seal of silence and giving tongues to the 

forest. 
Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to 

the music. 75)5 

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 pain was 

the silence. 
Then Evangeline slept : but the boatmen rowed through the 

midnight, 80 

Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs, 
Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers, 
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. * 05 

Thus ere another noon they emerged from the shades; 
and before them 

Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. 

Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undulations 

Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the 
lotus 

Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boat 
men, "o 

Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia 
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 sus 
pended. S15 

Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by the 
margin, 

Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on the 
greensward, 

Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers slum 
bered. 



80 EVANGELINE 

Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. 

Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the 
grapevine ^20 

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 blossom 
to blossom. 

Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered be 
neath it. 

Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an open 
ing heaven 82J 5 

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. S3 

At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful and 

careworn. 
Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a 

sadness 

Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. 
Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and 

restless, 
Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of 

sorrow. 835 

Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island, 
But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of palmettos ; 
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 there none to awaken the slumbering 

maiden. 84 

Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the 

prairie. 
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 



EVANGELINE 81 

Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, " Father Felician !. 

Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wan 
ders. 845 

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 blush, she added, " Alas for my credulous 
fancy ! 

Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning." 

But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he 
answered, * 50 

" 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 south 
ward, 855 

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 sheep- 
fold. 

Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of fruit- 
trees ; 

Under the feet a garden of flowers and the bluest of 
heavens 860 

Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the 
forest. 

They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Lou 
isiana." 

With these words of cheer they arose and continued 
their journey. 

Softly the evening came. The sun from the western 
horizon 

Like a magician extended his golden wand a er the land 
scape; * 65 



82 EVANGELINE 

Twinkling vapors arose ; and sky and water and forest 

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 motion 
less water. 

Filled was Evangeline s heart with inexpressible sweet 
ness. 70 

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 neighbouring thicket the mocking-bird, wild 
est 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 Bac 
chantes. 

Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamenta 
tion; 

Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in 
derision, 8 * 

As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree- 
tops 

Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the 
branches. 

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 wood- 
land? , 885 

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighbouring 
dwelling ; 

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of 
cattle. 



EVANGELINE 83 



III. 

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, y 

Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A 
garden 

Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blossoms, 

Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of 
timbers 

Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted together. 

Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns sup 
ported, y5 

Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, abroad and spacious veranda, 

Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. 

At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden, 

Stationed the dove-cots were, as love s perpetual symbol, 

Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of 
rivals. yo 

Silence reigned o er the place. The line of shadow and 
sunshine 

Ean near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in 
shadow, 

And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding 

Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. 

In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a path 
way yo5 

Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limit 
less prairie, 

Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. 

Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas 

Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the 
tropics, 

Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grape 
vines. yi 

Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the 

prairie, 
Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups 



84 EVANGELINE 

Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin. 

Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish 
sombrero 

Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its 
master. yi& 

Round about him were numberless herds of kine that were 
grazing 

Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapoury fresh 
ness 

That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the land 
scape. 

Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding 

Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that re 
sounded 92 

Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp 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 cloud, a shade in the dis 
tance. ^ 5 

Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the 
gate of the garden 

Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing 
to meet him. 

Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, 
and forward 

Pushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder ; 

When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the black 
smith. 930 

Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. 

There in an arbour of roses with endless question and 
answer 

Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly 
embraces, 

Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and 
thoughtful. 

Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts 
and misgivings 9a5 

Stole o er the maiden s heart; and Basil, somewhat em 
barrassed, 



EVANGELINE 85 



Broke the silence and said, " If you came by the Atcha- 

falaya, 
How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel s boat on 

the bayous?" 

Over Evangeline s face at the words of Basil a shade passed. 
Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous 

accent, 94 

" Gone ? is Gabriel gone ?" and, concealing her face on his 

shoulder, 
All her overburdened 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 to-day he departed. 
Foolish boy ! he has left me alone with my herds arid my 

horses. 945 

Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled, his spirit 
Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. 
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 Moun 
tains, 
Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the 

beaver. 
Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive 

lover; 955 

He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams 

are against him. 
Up and away to-morrow, 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. 8 

4 



86 EVANGELINE 



Long tinder Basil s roof had he lived, like a god on 
Olympus, 

Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. 

Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. 

" Long live Michael/ they cried. " our brave Acadian min 
strel!" 

As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and 
straightway 9(i5 

Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting the 
old man 

Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, en 
raptured, 

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, 9 

All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchial de 
meanour ; 

Much they marvelled to hear his 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, S75 

Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper 

* Tk T *,.** 

of Basil 
Waited his late return ; and they rested and feasted together. 

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended. 

All was silent without, and illuming the landscape with 
silver, 

Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars ; but within 
doors, y80 

Brighter than these, shone the faces of friend in the glim 
mering lamplight. 

Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the 
herdsman 

Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless 
profusion. 



EVANGELINE 87 

Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitochea 

tobacco, 
Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as 

they listened : 985 

"Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been 

friendless and homeless, 
Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than 

the old one ! 

Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers ; 
Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer; 
Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil, as a keel 

through the water. 9y 

All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom ; and 

grass grows 

More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. 
Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the 

prairies ; 
Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of 

timber 
With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into 

houses. yy5 

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 barns, and stealing your farms 

and your cattle/ 
Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his 

nostrils, 
While his huge, brown hand came thundering down on the 

table, 1000 

So that the guests all started; and Father Eelician, 

astounded, 
Suddenly paused, with a pinch of 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 

fever ! 

For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate, 1005 
Cured by wearing a spider hung round one s neck in a 

nutshell!" 



88 EVANGELINE 

Then there were voices heard at the door, and footsteps 

approaching 

Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. 
It was the neighbouring Creoles and small Acadian 

planters, 
Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the 

herdsman. 101 

Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbours : 
Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before 

were as strangers, 
Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each 

other, 

Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country together. 
But in the nighbouring hall a strain of music, proceed 
ing 1015 
From the accordant strings of Michael s melodious fiddle, 
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, 
Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering 

garments. 

Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and 

the herdsman 

Sat, conversing together of past and present and future; 
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 sad 
ness 10 ~ 5 
Came o er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the 

garden. 

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 

spirit. 103 

Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the 

garden 



EVANGELINE 89 

Poured out their souls in odours, 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 1035 

Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, 

As, through the garden gate, and beneath the shade of the 
oak-trees, 

Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless 
prairie. 

Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies 

Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite num 
bers. io* 

Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in 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, 

As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, 
"Upharsin." 

And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire 
flies, 10*5 

Wandered alone, and she cried, " Gabriel ! my be 
loved ! 

Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? 

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 lookea on the woodlands 
around me! 105 

Ah ! how often beneath this oak, returning from labour, 

Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in tny 
slumbers ! 

When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about 
thee?" 

Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill 
sounded 

Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neigh 
bouring thickets, 



90 EVANGELINE 

Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into 
silence. 

" Patience I" whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of 
darkness ; 

And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, "To 
morrow I" 

Bright rose the sun next day ; and all the flowers of the 

garden 
Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his 

tresses loco 

With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases of 

crystal. 
"Farewell!" said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy 

J.T_ l_ U " 

threshold ; 

" See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting 
and famine, 

And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bride 
groom was coming." 

" Farewell \" answered fhe maiden, and, smiling, with Basil 
descended 1065 

Down to the river s brink, where the boatmen already were 
waiting. 

Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sunshine, 
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 desert. 

Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that suc 
ceeded, 107 

Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, 

Nor, after many days, had they found him ; but vague and 
uncertain 

Rumours alone were their guides through a wild and deso 
late country; 

Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, 

Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the gar 
rulous landlord ^ 75 

That on the day before, with horses and grades and com 
panions, 

Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. 



EVANGELINE 91 



IV. 

Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the 

mountains 
Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous 

summits. 
Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, like 

a gateway, 108 

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-river 

Mountains, 
Through the Sweet- water Valley precipitate leaps the 

Nebraska ; 
And to the scfuth, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the Spanish 

sierras, 1085 

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 vibra 
tions. 

Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beau 
tiful prairies, 

Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sun 
shine, 109 
Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amor- 

phas. 
Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk and the 

roebuck ; 
Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of riderless 

horses ; 
Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with 

travel ; 
Over them wander the scattered tribes of IshmaePs 

children, 1()95 

Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible 

war-trails 

Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, 
Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in 

battle, 



92 EVANGELINE 

By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. 

Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage 
marauders; lll)t) 

Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-run 
ning 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. 1105 

Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark Moun 
tains, 
Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind 

him. 
Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and 

Basil 
Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o ertake 

him. 
Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his 

camp-fire 1110 

Rise in the morning air from the distant plain; but at 

nightfall, 
When they had reached the place, they found only embers 

and ashes ; 
And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies 

were weary, 

Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana 
Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished 

before them. 1115 

Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently 

entered 

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 her people, 
From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel Caman- 

ches, llao 

Where her Canadian husband, a coureur-des-bois. had been 

murdered. 



EVANGELINE 93 

Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and 
friendliest welcome 

Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and feasted 
among them 

On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. 

But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his com 
panions, 1125 

Worn with the long day s march and the chase of the deer 
and the hison, 

Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where the 
quivering fire-light 

Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms wrapped 
up in the 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, 113 

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 dis 
appointed. 

Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman s com 
passion, 

Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was 
near her, 1135 

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 bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a 
maiden, 114 

But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the 
wigwam, 

Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sunshine, 

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, 



94 EVANGELINE 

That through the pines 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 again by her people. 
Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline 

listened n&o 

To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region 

around her 
Seemed like 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 splendour 
Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the 

woodland. 1155 

With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the 

branches 

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. 116 

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 11(55 

Said, as they journeyed along, " On the western slope of 

these mountains 
Dwells in his little village the Black Robe chief of the 

Mission. 
Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary and 

Jesus ; 



EVANGELINE 95 

Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as 
they hear him." 

Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline an 
swered, 117 

"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 a murmur of voices, 

And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a river, 

Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit 
Mission. 1175 

Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the village, 

Knelt the Black Robe chief with his children. A crucifix 
fastened 

High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grape 
vines, 

Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneeling 
beneath it. 

This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the intricate 
arches 11SO 

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 ap 
proaching, 

Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening 
devotions. 

But when the service was done, and the benediction had 
fallen "5 

Forth from the hands of the priest, 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 benig 
nant expression, 

Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the 
forest, 

And, with words of kindness, conducted them into his wig 
wam, nyo 

There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of 
the maize-ear 



96 EVANGELINE 

Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of 
the teacher. 

Soon was their story told; and the priest with solemnity 
answered : 

" Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, seated 

On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes, liy5 

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 ac 
cent 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 de 
parted. 

" Far to the north he has gone/ continued the priest ; "but 
in autumn, 120 

When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission/ 

Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and sub 
missive, 

" 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, 1205 

Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the 
Mission. 

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, and 

forming 121 

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. 



EVANGELINE 97 

Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her 

lover. 1215 

"Patience!" the priest would say; "have faith, and thy 

prayer will be answered ! 
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 finger of God has 

planted 

Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller s jour 
ney 122 
Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. 
Such in the soul of -man is faith. The blossoms of passion, 
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller 

fragrance, 
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odour 

is deadly. 
Only this humble plant can guide us here, and 

hereafter 1225 

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 rumour was 

wafted iaso 

Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odour of blossom. 
Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests, 
Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw Eiver. 
And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. 

Lawrence, 

Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mis 
sion. li235 
When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches, 
She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan 

forests, 
Found she the hunter s lodge deserted and fallen to ruin ! 



98 EVANGELINE 

Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in seasons and 

places 
Divers and distant far was seen the wandering 

maiden; 12*0 

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 unremembered. 
Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long 

journey; i:i45 

Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. 
Each succeeding year stole something away from her 

beauty, 
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 earthly hori 
zon, 1*50 
As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning. 

V. 

In that delightful land which is washed by the Dela 
ware s waters, 

Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle, 

Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he 
founded. 

There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of 
beauty, 11J55 

And the streets still reecho the names of the trees of the 
forest, 

As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts 
they molested. 

There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an 
exile, 

Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country. 

There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he de 
parted, 126 

Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants. 

Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the 
city, 



EVANGELINE 99 

Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer 

a stranger; 
And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the 

Quakers, 

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 endeavour, 
Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplaining, 
Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts 

and her footsteps. 

As from a mountain s top the rainy mists of the morn 
ing mo 
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 path 
way 

Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the 

distance. im 

Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his image, 

Clothed in 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 diffused, but, like to some odorous spices, 
Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with 
aroma. 1Z85 

Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to follow, 
Meekly with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Saviour. 
Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy; fre 
quenting 
Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of the city, 



100 EVANGELINE 

Where distress and want concealed themselves from tho 
sunlight, 1*90 

Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. 

Night after night when the world was asleep, as the watch 
man 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 "che gray of the dawn, as slow through 
the suburbs ^ 5 

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. 130 

And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of Sep 
tember, 

Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the 
meadow, 

So death flooded life, and, overflowing its natural margin, 

Spread to a brackish lake the silver stream of existence. 

Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the 
oppressor; 1305 

But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger; 

Only, alas! the poor, who had neither friends nor attend 
ants, 

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 city surrounds it; but still, with its gateway and 
wicket lai 

Meek, in the midst ol splendour, 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 



EVANGELINE 101 

Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to r behold 
there 

Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splen 
dour, 131 s 

Such as the artist paints o er the brows of saints and 
apostles, 

Or such as hangs by night o er a city seen at a distance. 

Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial, 

Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits Would enter. 

Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, deserted 
t and silent, * 

Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the alms- 
house. 
Sweet on the summer air was the odour of flowers in the 

garden, 
And as she paused on her way to gather the fairest among 

them, 
That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance 

and beauty. 
Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridor, cooled by 

the east-wind, 13 - 5 

Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry 

of Christ Church, 
While, intermingled with these, across the- meadows wera 

wafted 
Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in 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;" o 

And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of 

sickness. 

Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attendants, 
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 

roadside. * 133i 

Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, 



102 EVANGELINE 

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 con 
soler, 

Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it for 
ever. 1340 

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, 

Still she stood, with her colourless lips apart, while a 
shudder 

Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets 
dropped from her fingers, 1345 

And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the 
morning. 

Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible 
anguish, 

That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. 

On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old 
man. 

Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his 
temples; 13 > 

But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment 

Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier man 
hood; 

So 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 besprinkled its 
portals. 1355 

That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. 

Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit ex 
hausted 

Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the 
darkness, 

Darkness of slumber and death, for ever sinking and sink 
ing. 

Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied re 
verberations, 136 

Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that suc 
ceeded 



EVANGELINE 103 

Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saintlike, 
" Gabriel ! my beloved !" 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 youth, Evangeline rose in his vision. 
Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eye 

lids, 
Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his 

bedside. 
Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents un- 

uttered 137 

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, 
As when a lamp is blown out bv a gust of wind at a case- 

meni 



All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the 

sorrow, 

All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, 
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! 
And as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her 

bosom, 
Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, " Father, I 

thank theer 138 



Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its 

shadow, 
Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are 

sleeping. 

Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard, 
In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed. 
t)aily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing 1 beside 

them. 138S 



104 EVANGELINE 

Thousands of throbing hearts, where theirs are at rest 

and for ever, 
Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are 

busy, 
Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased from 

their labours, 
Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their 

journey ! 

Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the shade of 
. its branches 1390 

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 5 1395 

Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of 

homespun, 

And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline s story, 
While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighbouring 

ocean 
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the 

forest. 



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