puted the right of the English to a portion of the country which they claimed, took military occupation of the isthmus that formed the natural boundary between Acadia and the province of New France. Hence, however, their forces were ejected with little difficulty in 1755, and thenceforward the Acadians seemed to be left without the possibility of redress. In their extremity, they cowered before their masters, hoping forbearance; not unwilling to take an oath of fealty to England, yet in their single-mindedness and sincerity, still refusing to pledge themselves to bear arms against the land from which they sprung. The English were masters of the sea, were undisputed lords of the country, and could have exercised clemency without the slightest apprehension. But the men in power showed no disposition for acts of generosity or conciliation. Indignant at the obstinate consistency of the people, they sought only to reduce them to a humiliating dependence, and in the plenitude of their tyranny resorted to a project which the judgment of humanity must denounce as treacherous and dastardly. It was planned in secret, and no warning was given of their purpose till it was ready for being put into execution. It was, in fact, determined, "after the ancient device of Oriental despotism," to carry away the French inhabitants of Acadia into captivity to other parts of the British dominions. In August, 1754, Lawrence, the lieutenant-governor of the province, had written to Lord Halifax in England: "They have laid aside all thought of taking the oaths of allegiance voluntarily. . . . . . They possess the best and largest tract of land in the province; if they refuse the oaths, it would be much better that they were away." The Lords of Trade, in reply, vailed their wishes under the form of decorous suggestions. By the treaty of Utrecht," said they, referring to the French Acadians, "their becoming subjects of Great Britain is made an express condition of their continuance after the expiration of a year; they cannot become subjects but by taking the oaths required of subjects; and therefore it may be a question, whether their refusal to take such oaths will not operate to invalidate their titles to their lands. Consult the chief-justice of Nova Scotia upon that point; his opinion may serve as a foundation for future measures." 66 In the day of their affliction, France remembered the descendants of her sons, and asked that they might have time to remove from the peninsula with their effects, leaving their lands and homesteads to their conquerors; but in his answer, the British minister claimed them as useful subjects, and refused them the liberty of transmigration. Some of the inhabitants pleaded with the British officers for the restitution of their boats and guns, promising fidelity if they could but retain their liberties; and declaring that not the want of arms, but their consciences, should engage them never to revolt. "The memorial," said Lawrence in council," is highly arrogant, insidious, and insulting." Nevertheless, the memorialists, at his summons, came submissively to Halifax. "You want your canoes for carrying provisions to the enemy," said he, deridingly, though he knew no enemy was left in their vicinity. "Guns are no part of your goods," he continued, as by the laws of England all Roman Catholics are restrained from having arms, and are subject to penalties if arms are found in their houses. It is not the language of British subjects to talk of terms with the crown, or capitulate about their fidelity and allegiance. What excuse can you make for your presumption in treating this government with such indignity, as to expound to them the nature of fidelity? Manifest your obedience by immediately taking the oaths of allegiance in the common form before the council." 66 To this demand the deputies replied, that they would do as the generality of the inhabitants should determine. The next day, however, foreseeing the sorrows that awaited them, they offered to swear allegiance unconditionally; but they were told, that by a clause in a certain British statute, persons who have once refused the oaths cannot be afterward permitted to take them, but are to be considered as Popish recusants; and as such they were immediately imprisoned. The chief-justice, on whose opinion hung the fate of so many innocent families, insisted that they were to be looked upon as confirmed "rebels," who had now collectively, and without exception, become "recusants." Besides, as they were still eight thousand or more in numbers, and the English did not exceed three thousand, they stood in the way of "the progress of the settle ment;""by their noncompliance with the conditions of the treaty of Utrecht, they forfeited their possessions to the crown;" and after the departure" of the fleet and troops, the province would not be in a condition to drive them out." "Such a juncture as the present might never occur;" so he advised that the French inhabitants should not be permitted to take the oaths, but that the whole of them should be removed from the province. After mature consideration it was resolved in council to act on this suggestion; and in order to prevent the ejected people from attempting to return and molest the settlers that might be set down on their lands, it was determined that it would be most proper to distribute them among the several colonies on the continent. By To secure the success of the scheme, an ungenerous artifice was adopted. a general proclamation, on one and the same day, they were peremptorily ordered -"both old men and young men, as well as all the lads of ten years of age”—to assemble in specified localities on the 5th day of September (1755). Not knowing for what purpose, they innocently obeyed. For example, at Grand Pré, four hundred and eighteen unarmed men came together. They were marched into the church, and the doors were closed, when Winslow, the American commander. rose up, and thus addressed them: "You are convened to gether to manifest to you his majesty's final resolution to the French inhabitants of this his province. Your lands and tenements, cattle of all kinds and live-stock of all sorts, are forfeited to the crown, and you yourselves are to be removed from this his province. I am, through his majesty's goodness, directed to allow you liberty to carry off your money and household goods, as many as you can, without discommoding the vessels you go in." And he thereupon declared them the king's prisoners. What a sound of mocking irony there must have rung through that expression," his majesty's goodness!" The pitiful privilege which that goodness granted might as well have been withheld, since in effect it did not render them any the less destitute. Their wives and families were also the king's prisoners-nu bering with themselves nineteen hundred and twenty-three persons. The doom which had been some time preparing for them took them completely by surprise. num They had left home, as they supposed, but for the morning, and now they were never to return. Longfellow has described the scene almost literally— "So pass'd the morning away. And lo! with a summons sonorous Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat. Throng'd ere long was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard, Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the head-stones Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them Enter'd the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor Echo'd the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling to casement, Echo'd 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, Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission. 'You are convened this day,' he said, 'by his Clement and kind has he been; but how you majesty's orders. have answer'd his kindness, Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will Open'd, and forth came the guard, and marching Follow'd the long-imprison'd, but patient, Aca- dian farmers. homes and their country, Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and way-worn, So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their daughters. But a still more bitter day was coming. It was fixed that on the 10th of September a part of the exiles should be embarked. "They were drawn up six deep," writes Mr. Bancroft," and the young men, one hundred and sixty-one in number, were ordered to march first on board the vessel. They could leave their farms and cottages, the shady rocks on which they had reclined, their herds and their garners; but nature yearned within them, and they would not be separated from their parents. Yet of what avail was the frenzied despair of the unarmed youth? They had not one weapon; the bayonet drove them to obey ; and they marched slowly and heavily from Fill our hearts this day with strength, and the chapel to the shore, between women and children, who, kneeling, prayed for blessings on their heads, they themselves weeping, and praying, and singing hymns. The seniors went next: the wives and children must wait till other transport vessels arrive." The spectacle is thus described in Evangeline: "Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried; and there on the sea-beach Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply; All day long the wains came laboring down from the village. Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting, Foremost the young men came; and, raising 'Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible submission, and patience!' Then the old men, as they march'd, and the the sunshine above them "Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction, Calmly and sadly waited, until the procession approach'd her, And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. Tears then fill'd her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him, Clasp'd she his hands, and laid her head on his shoulder, and whisper'd, 'Gabriel! be of good cheer! for if we love one another, Echoing far o'er the fields came the roll of Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mis drums from the churchyard. a sudden the church-doors chances may happen!' paused, for her father Thither the women and children throng'd. On Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly 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 seem'd with the weight of the weary heart in his bosom. But with a smile and a sigh she clasp'd his neck and embraced him, Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort avail'd not. Thus to the Gasperau's mouth moved on that mournful procession. "There disorder prevail'd, and the tumult and stir of embarking. Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their children Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried, While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father. Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the twilight Deepen'd and darken'd around; and in haste the refluent ocean Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beach Cover'd 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 gipsy camp, or a leaguer "The embarkation of the inhabitants goes on but slowly," wrote Monckton from Fort Cumberland, near which he had burned three hamlets; "the most part of the wives of the men we have prisoners are gone off with their children, in hopes I would not send off their husbands without them." Their hope was vain. Near Annapolis, one hundred heads of families fled to the woods, and a party was detached on the hunt to bring them in. "Our soldiers hate them," wrote an officer on this occasion; "and if they can but find a pretext to kill them, they will." Did a prisoner seek to escape?—he was shot by the sentinel. Yet some fled to Quebec; more than three thousand had withdrawn to Miramichi and the region south of the Ristigouche; some found rest on the banks of the St. John's and its branches; some found a lair in their native forests; some were charitably sheltered VOL. VII.-8 ACADIANS IN CHAINS. from the English in the wigwams of the savages. But seven thousand of these banished people were driven on board ships, and scattered among the English colonies, from New-Hampshire to Georgia alone; one thousand and twenty to South Carolina alone. They were cast ashore without resources; hating the poor-house as a shelter for their offspring, and abhorring the thought of selling themselves as laborers. Households, too, were separated; the colonial newspapers contained advertisements of members of families seeking their companions, of sons anxious to reach and relieve their parents, of mothers mourning for their children." Poor wanderers! how they sighed for the pleasant villages whence they had been so cruelly driven out, and where they had so long dwelt so peacefully! But the hand that had expelled them was sternly raised to hinder them from returning. Their villages, from Annapolis to the isthmus, were laid waste. Their old homes were heaps of ruins. In one district as many as two hundred and fifty of their houses, and more than as many barns, were entirely consumed. Their confiscated livestock, consisting of great numbers of horses, sheep, hogs, and horned cattle, were seized as spoils, and disposed of by the unscrupulous officials. "A beautiful and fertile tract of country was reduced to a solitude. There was left round the ashes of the cottages of the Acadians but the faithful watch-dog, vainly seeking the hands that fed him. Thickets of foresttrees choked their orchards; the ocean broke over their neglected dikes, and desolated their meadows." The whole land was cast back into the wilderness, and, had the dispersed inhabitants gone back to it, they would have hardly recognized a spot within its boundaries. The exiles could not rest in their captivity; but relentless misfortune pursued them, by whatever way they sought after deliverance. Those sent to Georgia, drawn by a love for the spot where they were born, escaped to sea in boats, and went coasting on from harbor to harbor till they reached New England; but just as they would have set sail for their native fields, they were stopped by orders from Nova Scotia. Those who dwelt on the St. John's were once more driven out from their new homes. When Canada surrendered, the fifteen hundred who remained south of the Ristigouche were pursued by the scourges of unrelenting hatred. Those who dwelt in Pennsylvania presented an humble petition to the Earl of Loudoun, then the British commander-in-chief in America; and in return, his lordship, offended that the prayer was made in French, seized their five principal men, who in their own land had been persons of dignity and substance, and shipped them to England, with the request that they might be consigned to service as common sailors on board of ships-of-war, and thus be kept from ever again becoming troublesome. No doubt existed of the king's approbation of these proceedings. "The Lords of Trade, more merciless than the savages and than the wilderness in winter, wished very much that every one of the Acadians should be driven out; and when it seemed that the work was done, congratulated the king that the zealous endeavors of Lawrence had been crowned with an entire success." Wherever they turned, or whatever they did, these despoiled and outcast people encountered nothing but calamity. In their abject desolation, it even seemed to them that their cause was rejected by the universe. "We have been true," said they, "to our re |