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Nova Scotia

Page 10

by Lesley Choyce


  The first women to arrive in Acadia may have come with Razilly in 1633 or later in 1636, when a woman is first recorded on a passenger list of a ship sailing over from France. Early notables like Jeanne Motin and Françoise Marie Jacquelin undoubtedly saw themselves as French and not Acadian, but they clearly helped to shape the identity of Acadia.

  As time passed and reliance on France diminished, Acadian communities relied for their survival on the hard work of both men and women. Men would hunt, fish, prepare the land for agriculture and build houses and barns. Women would take care of the house, raise children and animals. Both would work in the fields.

  While Acadian women might have been characterized by their steadfast family orientation, the adversity of attacks from the New Englanders and the aftermath of deportation led to a unique strength of character that comes from survival over such hardship.

  One such example of that spirit can be seen in the story of Madeleine Le-blanc who returned to St. Mary’s Bay by boat after being deported. Discouraged by the long journey home, the hardship and the discovery that they would have to clear land and begin all over again at this new site, many returning with Madeleine sat down in despair and cried. Madeleine, only nineteen at the time, was undaunted. She picked up an axe, cut down the first tree and provided enough encouragement so that others took up the challenge. A small settlement eventually developed around the site and Madeleine lived there to the ripe old age of ninety-eight.

  It has been argued that Acadians managed to retain their unique cultural identity because women valued the importance of family kinship lines and because family had been so central to Acadian culture. Clearly, Acadian women had more responsibility than their English counterparts in Nova Scotia during these times. Much of North America’s knowledge of Acadia is probably based on the most famous of Acadian women, the central character of rLongfellow’s epic poemEvangeline, published in 1847. Here was the sad tale of a young woman of indomitable spirit. Although Evangeline was a fictional character, Longfellow used her to convey the love of the Acadians for their land and community. During the deportation of nearly 3,000 Acadians by the British, Evangeline, like a number of women from Grand Pré, was separated from the man she loved. Taken far away in a British warship, she struggled to survive against the imposed hardships of exile. Although the long poem is a sentimental tale, it has captured the imagination of generations of readers with its infusion of the Acadian spirit. k

  A Community of Happily Married People

  Unlike the early English settlers, Acadian men and women had readily developed an intimate kinship to the land they lived on and they were willing to work in harmony with the tides of the sea. At the heart of their farming strategy was the cr*eation of dykes, which required co-operation and countless hours of manual labour. Whereas a British farmer might clear his own land and farm his own small patch, many Acadian families would be reliant upon the communal dyke which allowed for farming in the Annapolis Valley soil. The fertility of the soil was the result of generous rich sediment left by the sweeping ebb and flow of the tides of Fundy.

  The seigneurial system intended by the French government simply never worked very well. It was based on European notions of dividing land and providing title to it according to the decisions of a seigneur. Attempts at establishing this system in Port Royal and Beaubassin only produced squabbles, indifference and so much paperwork. While rejection of this system must have certainly enraged authorities back in France, it set the pattern for a spirited but gentle anarchy that suited the Acadians well in adapting to Nova Scotia.

  The French settlers sought out and settled meadow land that could be farmed. Their settlements were scattered in accordance with where they found the sort of land they desired. Unlike the British, they did not feel the need to cluster together in garrison towns, fearful of the wilderness. Instead, small villages and pockets of a spread-out population were the norm. For the most part, Acadians had little contact with British or French authorities and happily so, as long as history would allow. Priests, elder family figures and older women became counsellors and decision makers as needed. *

  Compared to the English in Nova Scotia who were so absorbed in their mistrust of the land, fear of the French and Mi’kmaq, the Acadians seemed to live an idyllic life. They farmed, fished, traded, created sawmills and grist mills yet lacked what the English would have called “ambition,” because they did not exploit the land or waters for significant profit. Certainly, they were a great disappointment to the French investors and colonizers. What good were they if they could not produce wealth for investors back in Paris?

  Records indicate the Acadians were physically fit and prone to fewer diseases than the English soldiers at Halifax or French soldiers of Louisbourg. Without a doubt their diet was much healthier. There was a low child mortality rate, women married quite young and older women acted as midwives for the birth of the children. Marriage was strongly encouraged and very few men or women lived without a spouse. e

  Priests, when available, performed official ceremonies like marriages, baptisms and funerals. Often these clergy were the only literate persons around as well, so they took on certain legal duties. However, there were not enough priests to get around to the scattered villages and many Acadians might encounter a priest only once or twice a year. Hence, even the traditional European domineering influence of the Church was of less signifaicance here in the daily lives of the people. In fact, religious freedom did not lawfully exist for the Acadians while under British rule. The Treaty of Utrecht had guaranteed Catholics the right to worship within the Bmritish domain, but English law had forbidden Catholicism. Fortunately for the Acadians, this law was simply not upheld in Nova Scotia. Acadians were left to worship as they desired and French missionaries converted many Mi’kmaq as well.

  A Rich Harvest from Land and Sea

  The Acadians were not at all fond of chopping down forests to create fields for grazing and farming. Instead, they preferred a somewhat gentler technique of altering the landscape for their purposes, something that had been in use in France and Holland for a very long time. A system of dykes would keep back the high tides of coastal waters and free up rich low-lying pasture lands for farming. Building up the long earth walls of the dykes sounds like hard manual labour, but once complete, and after the rains have had a chance to wash excess salt out of the soil, the rewards can be significant in terms of food and hay.

  A very simple mechanism known as an “aboiteau” allows excess water from the land to spill back into the sea. The aboiteau is made up of a wooden conduit at the bottom of the dyke with a swinging door or “clapet” that closes as the tides rise. The whole system was so simple yet so effective that it created envy on the part of the New England farmers who saw Acadians producing a rich harvest from, ultimately, very little work. As a resul-t, New England farmers were prone to call the Acadians lazy or “slothful.”

  Many Acadian settlers had chosen the fertile marshlands around the Bay of Fundy for farming. Fundy has some of the highest tide changes in the world – seven to twelve metres, requiring significant dyking. Yet around Fundy’s Minas, Cumberland and Annapolis basins were wide meadows free of trees. These fertile meadows looked almost too good to be true to the early Acadian farmers. The first dykes were built around 1640 and by 1710, the Acadians had dykes in almost all the marshlands bordering the Bay of Fundy. The natural fertility of the lands resulted from rich clay soil built up with sediments left by the tides over thousands of years.

  Not all Acadian farmers cultivated exclusively for their own needs. The more entrepreneurial farmers were shipping the results of their labour to Louisbourg and to New England. Of course, this trade was illegal, so there were probably no records kept of these activities.

  Unlike the English who failed to respect or trust the Mi’kmaq, the Acadians had, from the start, been ready to learn every available trick of survival from the Native people. Weirs or *nijagan made of brush and nets were used to take advantage
of the receding Fundy tides to catch fish. Built near the mouth of rivers and streams, wooden poles are pounded into place to form a corral of sorts and then saplings and smaller branches or string nets are fashioned into a fence that allows water to pass through but not the larger of the fish. When the tide goes down, it is merely a matter of walking out into the shallows and collecting the day’s catch. Once again, the Acadians had succeeded in the lazy man’s approach to harvesting food.

  Friendly and mutually advantageous relations with the Mi’kmaq alleviated the fears felt by many French settlers in the early days. There are census records showing marriages between Mi’kmaq women and Acadian men. One no*table marriage was that of the French nobleman Baron de Saint-rCastin, who came over as a soldier in 1670 and married the daughter of an Abenaki chief. The baron himself eventually became a chief who led raids against the British in defence of the homelands.

  Marriages and conversion of the Mi’kmaq to Catholicism helped strengthen the bond between these two peoples. The Native people did not feel threatened by loss of hunting grounds, as the Acadians lived in small communities and settled mostly along the shores. Illustrations dating back to the seventeenth century show Acadian men wearing Mi’kmaq clothing. The French also learned from the Mi’kmaq the craft of making birchbark canoes and the skills of harvesting edible wild plants. In return, the French traded the Native people iron pots, rifles and ammunition.

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 14

  The Rasp of Cornwallis

  By 1749, six years before the expulsion of the Grand Pré Acadians, Nova Scotia had a population of about 11,000 French and 2,000 English. Estimates as to the Mi’kmaq population vary dramatically, but already European diseases had taken their toll. In fact, disease – smallpox in particular – played a significant role in the early history of this province. d

  After the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713, the British had made very little effort to settle in Nova Scotia. Between 1745 and 1749, however, New England soldiers and their British regular army replacements occupied Louisbourg, boosting the population. No serious attempt was made to develop farming villages or create permanent fishing communities. They perceived their surroundings to be inhospitable, if not hostile. So the British crowded togrether, feeling safer in the cramped confines of a garrison community.

  While that attitude was slow, very slow, to change, the idea of more fully “colonizing” Nova Scotia was taking root in England. In 1749, The London Gazetteadvertised for people to move to Nova Scotia and try to make a life there. England was bursting at the seams with out-of-work soldiers and sailors since the end of the War of Austrian Succession. Unemployed soldiers on the streets of London could mean trouble and England still didn’tt know exactly what she wanted to do with Nova Scotia, so here was a plan to kill two birds with one stone. George Montague Dunk, Earl of Halifax, was president of the Board of Trade and Plantations and he masterminded the colonization move.

  Men weren’t exactly beating down his doors to get permission to move to Nova Scotia. In truth, it was a place that appealed to few. The earl realized that previous incentives to lure settlers to Nova Scotia had not been very successful. So he knew he’d have to sweeten the offer. He also felt that he couldn’t just send over ship after ship of paupers. First, he’d go after the military men – or at least those who had already completed their military duty in the war. Every officer under the rank of ensign would receive eighty acres. Ensigns would get 200 acres, lieutenants 300, captains 400 and every rank above that would get a full 600 acres plus thirty extra for each family member. Of course, North American land was plentiful and not of much value at all to the Crown. Many envisioned the entire place to be nothing but trees, bogs and marshes along a cold, foggy coastline far from the comforts of England. Rations were promised for one year and there were assurances of a civil government as well as military protection. Similar offers of land and support were also given to skilled craftsmen like carpenters, shipwrights, masons, brickmakers and bricklayers, surgeons and the like.

  The discharged sailors and soldiers, however, had seen too much of life in military quarters, where food and shelter were guaranteed. This new deal was full of considerable uncertainty and they were not quick to jump at the prospect. Many qualified workers in rural areas never even found out about the offer – they failed to get the news by word of mouth and many were illiterate. They could not read what was in the papers or on the posteras tacked up in the cities. Contrary to the earl’s hopes, large numbers of applications came from the poor of London, who found the promise of free food enough of a temptation to send them across the sea and into the wilderness.

  For once, the ships were brimming with the necessary supplies as they forged across the Atlantic to create a new town. Four thousand pounds of gold and silver were stacked into the ships. The earl’s proposal was indeed one to buy the loyalty and commitment of the settlers. Along with the gold was a healthy supply of official stationery, as if to suggest the wilderness could not be conquered without plenty of paperwork. More practical items such as hospital supplies, fishing gear, seeds, bricks, blankets, clothes, salted meats, biscuits, hatchets and surveying equipment were loaded on as well. Quite a good supply of French Bibles were transported in hopes of converting Catholic Acadians to Protestantism. The ships also carried plentiful gifts to make the newcomers welcome to the Mi’kmaq. These, however, were mostly cheap trinkets, indicative of a false generosity. *

  Edward Cornwallis, the son of a lord and a man with friends in high places, had been appointed to be Captain General and Governor-in-Chief. There were delays at first as the number of Cockney passengers, well beyond expectations, filed on board. Finally, on May 14, 1749, Cornwallis set sail aboard the Sphinx. Thirteen other ships followed soon after from the delightfully named port of Spithead. s

  The ships arrived by late June in reasonably good time with 1,174 families. Well over 100 heads of families were retired military men and over 400 were retired from the Royal Navy. A sizeable half of the populal tion were former military men. Of the full complement, there were of course many single men, as well as 440 kids and 420 servants. Many who would settle in Halifax were not all that familiar with the discomforts of carvoing a garrison town out of the wilderness. Although the vast majority of settlers were white, some of those listed as servants were most probably Black slaves. *

  With thirty-eight doctors, surgeons and other medical personnel on the voyage, Cornwallis had reckoned that medical care, primitive as it was, would be significant to the success of the new town. This was in sharp contrast to the lack of medical concern afforded the English troops at Annapolis Royal up to this time. Some brilliant innovator had even determined that more people would survive the crossing with minimal diseases if the holds of the ships were ventilated. Each ship was well-stocked with medical supplies and the Roehampton was sailing along as a hospital ship.

  Nova Scotian author Thomas Raddall, whose passion for the history of this province was of the highest order, describes Cornwallis as a good-looking bachelor of thirty-six who had seen battle and even commanded troops against Prince Charlie in the Highlands. Raddall says he had a pleasant voice and cool demeanour, although he was known to lose his temper on occasion. In Halifax Warden of the North, Raddall notes, “Later on his voice acquired a rasp, and so did his pen, as troubles mounted and the harsh winters of the new colony destroyed his health.” All the best-laid medical preparations could not stave off the ravages of the Nova Scotia winters, even for the most privileged.

  Aiding Cornwallis was Richard Bulkeley – tall, Irish, rich and handsome – who was not exactly planning on roughing it. He brought along three good horses, a mountain of personal belongings, a valet, a groom and a butler. Hosratio Gates, a captain, was also a close associate of Cornwallis. The illegitimate son of the Duke of Leeds, he proved to be a capable young officer. In fact, most of the officers and military men were young by modern standards. Halifax would be a city of people in their mid-thirties and
younger.

  The Amazing Shrinking Town

  When the Halifax settlers arrived on the twenty-first of June, they saw signs of plentiful fish, which should have been a good omen that food, at least, would be available in the new town. The cod would have been closer in to the coast at that time of year, pollack and haddock would have been schooling and salmon would be heading upstream, through the harbour toward Bedford Basin and the river beyond. Everyone aboard was on the lookout for some greate navigable river but none really existed here in Chebucto Bay. The harbour opened up into a wide and ultimately very useful basin with some small rivers emptying into it.

  The first government would be both military and civilian, with Cornwallis in charge. He was supported by Captain Edward How, Captain John Gorham and civilians Benjamin Green, John Salisbury and Hugh Davidson, who would act as councillors. Paul Mascarene would also be on hand after his stint at Fort Anne. He was considered to have a solid knowledge of the French and the local Native population, but undoubtedly he had been trained to think of them as enemy and not ally.

  Gorham had with him his rangers, mostly New England descendants, but some were Native people from tribes who were enemies to the Mi’kmaq. Although Gorham has often been portrayed as a great defender of white settlers, this may well be a misreading of history. Mi’kmaq historian Dan Paul describes the rangers as “some of the most blood-thirsty individuals ever assembled.” French Father Maillard, who had been living among the Mi’kmaq before the arrival of the Halifax settlers, recorded that he had observed Gorham and his men wantonly murder three pregnant Mi’kmaq women and two small children. Such actions attest to the magnitude of the brutality of the people who were in control of Nova Scotia at the time.

  There was considerable debate as to the precise location for the new town but a compromise was reached. Halifax would be carved from the forested hillside just west of George’s Island. A brook, long since erased by urban development, flowed down to the harbour in those days and it provided fresh drinking water. It existed where George Street runs today. There was a big hardwood tree at the landing site and this became the town’s first gallows. In future years, the death of criminals by hanging would prove to be a popular form of entertainment for Haligonians. *

 

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