Part 12 (1/2)

While they thus stood upon the wharf, the curiosity and inquisitiveness of the New England people would naturally lead them into the midst of the poor Acadians. Prying busy-bodies thrust their heads into the circle, wherever two or three of the exiles were conversing together. How puzzled did they look, at the outlandish sound of the French tongue! There were seen the New England women, too. They had just come out of their warm, safe homes, where every thing was regular and comfortable, and where their husbands and children would be with them at night-fall. Surely, they could pity the wretched wives and mothers of Acadia! Or, did the sign of the cross, which the Acadians continually made upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and which was abhorred by the descendants of the Puritans-did that sign exclude all pity?

Among the spectators, too, was the noisy brood of Boston school-boys, who came running, with laughter and shouts, to gaze at this crowd of oddly dressed foreigners. At first they danced and capered around them, full of merriment and mischief. But the despair of the Acadians soon had its effect upon these thoughtless lads, and melted them into tearful sympathy.

At a little distance from the throng, might be seen the wealthy and pompous merchants, whose warehouses stood on Long Wharf. It was difficult to touch these rich men's hearts; for they had all the comforts of the world at their command; and when they walked abroad, their feelings were seldom moved, except by the roughness of the pavement, irritating their gouty toes. Leaning upon their gold-headed canes, they watched the scene with an aspect of composure. But, let us hope, they distributed some of their superfluous coin among these hapless exiles, to purchase food and a night's lodging.

After standing a long time at the end of the wharf, gazing seaward, as if to catch a glimpse of their lost Acadia, the strangers began to stray into the town.

They went, we will suppose, in parties and groups, here a hundred, there a score, there ten, there three or four, who possessed some bond of unity among themselves. Here and there was one, who, utterly desolate, stole away by himself, seeking no companions.h.i.+p.

Whither did they go? I imagine them wandering about the streets, telling the town's-people, in outlandish, unintelligible words, that no earthly affliction ever equalled what had befallen them. Man's brotherhood with man was sufficient to make the New Englanders understand this language.

The strangers wanted food. Some of them sought hospitality at the doors of the stately mansions, which then stood in the vicinity of Hanover Street and the North Square. Others were applicants at the humble wooden tenements, where dwelt the petty shop-keepers and mechanics. Pray Heaven, that no family in Boston turned one of these poor exiles from their door!

It would be a reproach upon New England-a crime worthy of heavy retribution-if the aged women and children, or even the strong men, were allowed to feel the pinch of hunger.

Perhaps some of the Acadians, in their aimless wanderings through the town, found themselves near a large brick edifice, which was fenced in from the street by an iron railing, wrought with fantastic figures. They saw a flight of red freestone steps, ascending to a portal, above which was a balcony and bal.u.s.trade. Misery and desolation give men the right of free pa.s.sage everywhere. Let us suppose, then, that they mounted the flight of steps, and pa.s.sed into the Province House. Making their way into one of the apartments, they beheld a richly clad gentleman, seated in a stately chair, with gilding upon the carved work of its back, and a gilded lion's head at the summit. This was Governor s.h.i.+rley, meditating upon matters of war and state, in Grandfather's chair!

If such an incident did happen, s.h.i.+rley, reflecting what a ruin of peaceful and humble hopes had been wrought by the cold policy of the statesman, and the iron hand of the warrior, might have drawn a deep moral from it. It should have taught him that the poor man's hearth is sacred, and that armies and nations have no right to violate it. It should have made him feel, that England's triumph, and increased dominion, could not compensate to mankind, nor atone to Heaven, for the ashes of a single Acadian cottage. But it is not thus that statesmen and warriors moralize.

”Grandfather,” cried Laurence, with emotion trembling in his voice, ”did iron-hearted War itself ever do so hard and cruel a thing as this before?”

”You have rend in history, Laurence, of whole regions wantonly laid waste,” said Grandfather. ”In the removal of the Acadians, the troops were guilty of no cruelty or outrage, except what was inseparable from the measure.”

Little Alice, whose eyes had, all along, been br.i.m.m.i.n.g full of tears, now burst forth a-sobbing; for Grandfather had touched her sympathies more than he intended.

”To think of a whole people, homeless in the world!” said Clara, with moistened eyes. ”There never was any thing so sad!”

”It was their own fault,” cried Charley, energetically. ”Why did not they fight for the country where they were born? Then, if the worst had happened to them they could only have been killed and buried there. They would not have been exiles then!”

”Certainly, their lot was as hard as death,” said Grandfather. ”All that could be done for them, in the English provinces, was to send them to the alms-houses, or bind them out to task-masters. And this was the fate of persons, who had possessed a comfortable property in their native country.

Some of them found means to embark for France; but though it was the land of their forefathers, it must have been a foreign land to them. Those, who remained behind, always cherished a belief, that the king of France would never make peace with England, till his poor Acadians were restored their country and their homes.”

”And did he?” inquired Clara.

”Alas, my dear Clara,” said Grandfather, ”it is improbable that the slightest whisper of the woes of Acadia ever reached the ears of Louis the Fifteenth. The exiles grew old in the British provinces, and never saw Acadia again. Their descendants remain among us, to this day. They have forgotten the language of their ancestors, and probably retain no tradition of their misfortunes. But, methinks, if I were an American poet, I would choose Acadia for the subject of my song.”

Since Grandfather first spoke these words, the most famous of American poets has drawn sweet tears from all of us, by his beautiful poem of Evangeline.

And now, having thrown a gentle gloom around the Thanksgiving fire-side, by a story that made the children feel the blessing of a secure and peaceful hearth, Grandfather put off the other events of the Old French War till the next evening.

Chapter X

In the twilight of the succeeding eve, when the red beams of the fire were dancing upon the wall, the children besought Grandfather to tell them what had next happened to the old chair.

”Our chair,” said Grandfather, ”stood all this time in the Province House.

But, Governor s.h.i.+rley had seldom an opportunity to repose within its arms.

He was loading his troops through the forest, or sailing in a flat-boat on Lake Ontario, or sleeping in his tent, while the awful cataract of Niagara sent its roar through his dreams. At one period, in the early part of the war, s.h.i.+rley had the chief command of all the king's forces in America.”