Along the shores of the harbour, it is said that settlers found the skeletal remains of D’Anville’s men, some holding rusting muskets, some still in tattered French uniforms, some propped against trees.
The location of the new settlement was not all it had been touted to be by the enthusiastic advertisements. Settlers were only allowed a small parcel of land within the defences of the new town. There had been promises of deep, rich soil for farming but, of course, all of this desirable farming terrain was far away on the Fundy side of Nova Scotia where the Acadians had been cultivating for several generations. Realizing the bad deal tchat it was, many took off for New England on ships within a month of arrival. There were jobs there, real soil for farming, and more established communities. The original passenger lists to Halifax reported 158 heads of families who had jobs related to animal husbandry, but by the end of July another census suggested only sixty-nine settlers with that skill. Most of the men must have quickly decided that the Halifax site wasn’t a good place to establish a herd of anything.
Fear of attack by the French and the Mi’kmaq, who had already suffered serious harassment by the English, made everybody nervous. For the first two weeks the new arrivals felt vulnerable, until soldiers under Hopson and Warburton were transferred from Louisbourg to protect them. During those first two months, most settlers actually stayed on the transport ships. After a long voyage in cramped quarters, fear of this new land was still strong enough to make most hang back in their familiar confines rather than camp ashore in the Nova Scotia summer. To ease the fears, Cornwallis sent for Mascarene’s regiment to come up from Annapolis Royal to ensure protection of the civilians. As soon as Mascarene and his troops arrived in July, the first Council meeting was convened, after which Cornwallis wrote a letter of frustration to the Lords of Trade in London. He noted that his population had dwindled to 1,400 from the initial 2,547 who had arrived not more than a month earlier. Halifax was a diminishing city even before it had taken root.
In his complaint, Cornwallis wrote that many soldiers “only wanted a passage to New England. Many [of the passengers] have come as into a Hospital, to be cured, some of veneral [sic] disorders, some even incurables. I d o all I can to make them useful, but I shall be obliged, I believe, to send some of them away. I published a proclamation in the terms advised by your Lordships with regard to such as should [anyone] . . . be absent two days together without permission, forfeiture of all rights and privileges of settlers. Eight fellows that had gone off to Canada and were brought back, I punished [them] by striking their names out of the Mess Books, and out of your Lordships Lists, and ordered them to leave the province.”
Well, orders to leave the province were probably not such great punishment if it meant a chance to move on to New England. In fact, Cortnwallis’s meagre threats didn’t stem the flow of un-settlers. Nearly a thousand people departed in July. Transportation to New England was not hard to come by. Raddall speculates that some may have left because they were Catholic and, therefore, were not permitted to own land. Many of the Catholics were here as workers or servants and they soon realized that more freedom could be had in New England or elsewhere. At least 191 families were not granted land as promised when it was handed out in August.
The Bottom Line
There was nothing fancy about the layout of the town. The settlement was set out in blocks, each 98 metres by 37 metres with sixteen house lots per block, each measuring 18 metres by 12 metres. There were only twelve streets in all. A rectangular “square” was created as the official centre of activity. A church, St. Paul’s, would be built at the north end and the first courthouse was built at the south. (St. Paul’s later moved to the south end.) The Parade Ground which exists today along Barrington Street was not at all flat, but sloping, as it had been set up on the side of a hill leading up to the Citadel. It would not be levelled off until the turn of the century. The streets were named in honour of notables back home, many of whom were responsible for sending the English settlers to this place. Holles Street (later changed to Hollis) was named for Prime Minister Henry Pelham’s mother, Bedford Row for the Duke of Bedford, Granville for the Rt. Hon. George Granville, Barrington for Viscount Barrington of Ardglass, Argyle for the Duke of Argyle and so on. George Street was named for the King; Prince and Duke streets were thrown in for good measure as generic names for anyone who might have been missed. o
Cornwallis wanted to get the town underway. Realizing he couldn’t rely solely upon those who had come with him, he brought in builders from Annapolis and elsewhere and even hired Acadians from the Minas area. For the first winter, however, only temporary barricades of logs and branches were in place. Yet in a letter from a new citizen of Halifax to Gentleman’s Magazine and Historical Chronicle dated December 7, 1749, the writer asserts, “there are already about 400 habitable houses within the fortifications and not less than 200 without.” That was probably putting a good spin on a bad situation. Two hundred and thirty-seven people died that first winter ck– at least that was the number recorded. The true total was probably much higher.
The hospital wasn’t established until March of 1750 and by then it was long overdue. This hospital, nonetheless, predates those in Philadelphia and New York. The ever-vigilant Lords of Trade were concerned that the cost of the hospital – as well as the cost of the whole colony – was simply too high. They were afraid that Cornwallis was not being lean and mean enough so they let him know it. As a result, in February he got rid of some of the hospital staff to cut overhead. The Lords were more concerned with the bottom line than with lives lost, although this probably came back to haunt them since it was so expensive and time-consuming to find new settlers.
Hugh Davidson, treasurer for the colony, was called on the carpet back in London to explain why the tab had run up to nearly £77,000 instead of the £40,000 allotted. Halifax was just proving itself to be more expensive than it was worth.
A Botched Opportunity for Peace
Gorham’s Rangers proved themselves to be the “best” defence to the town. They were cruel and ruthless and some of their company, of Mohawk descent, knew how to track down, harass and murder the Mi’kmaq whose homeland had been invaded. Cornwallis admitted to his confidantes that he thought the Rangers were barbaric and he was happy to see them out of town – sent on missions to kill the Mi’kmaq. He knew that the Mi’kmaq who gathered along the harbour had come from the interior, probably paddling their canoes down the Sackville River. So he sent the bloodthirsty Gorham and his crew to build a fort near where the river emptied into the basin. The Mi’kmaq, however, had an alternate route, a traditional avenue down the lakes through Dartmouth. Cornwallis and his men had not really made a thorough exploration of both sides of the harbour where the English had settled so, quite often, the Mi’kmaq arrived near Halifax undetected.
Thomas Raddall believes Cornwallis to have been a diligent leader with good intentions who really wanted peace. He ordered Captain How to various Native communities to ask the chiefs to come to Halifax to work out a treaty. Three did come from the Fundy area, from the Saint John River area and from Passamaquoddy. Most of the Mi’kmaq from around Halifax, or Chebucto as they called it, had already wisely moved away after the ravages of MEuropean diseases had taken their toll. Cornwallis could not seem to draw them back into the treaty process. After the murderous acts of Gorham’s Rangers, this should have surprised no one.
The three chiefs and their nine warriors were greeted aboard the Beaufort with a seventeen-gun salute. The interpreter was a Frenchman named Andre who may or may not have been providing a legitimate interpretation. Foolishly, the English had not spent any great effort in training their own interpreters for such important business but instead were willing to rely on a man who may have had allegiances to their enemy.
Cornwallis tried to get the point across that His Majesty wanted friendship with the Native people (despite how things had appeared in the past), and he was even willing to provide them with protection.
Protection from ewhom? they must have wondered. Native leaders probably saw the redcoats themselves as a bit of a joke. They had little understanding of the wilderness and were so poorly prepared for survival in Nova Scotia. How could they protect even themselves? And what had the English done to prove their friendship? Certainly the presence of Gorham and his rangers would appear to run counter to any attempts at friendship.
If these Mi’kmaq and Maliseet leaders showed any sign of amusement, it was interpreted by the English as drunkenness. The chiefs, however, signed the document (not necessarily cognizant of what they were signing) and left with presents accompanied by another seventeen-gun salute. Cornwallis had probably missed his best opportunity to establish communication and goodwill. Both Gorham and How should have been worldly-wise enough to see the sham of the event, but then not everyone wanted peace with the Native people.
To make a treaty official from the Mi’kmaq point of view, there should have been a ritual of washing away war paint, and burying the hatchet. Apparently Native leaders had gone so far as to perform a war dance right on the deck of the Sphinx, but Cornwallis had interpreted this as another act of drunkenness. And so, like many treaties to follow, this one would be a sham and within months, the English and Native people would be killing each other again.
Salt Meat and Hardtack
Cornwallis was hoping for peace with everyone but even in his own front yard, he was having trouble keeping all the new troops in some kind of order. Along with the garrison of men from Louisbourg came the riff-raff who followed the troops to sell them rum. Drinking establishments (well, huts) blossomed on the waterfront area that would evolve into Water Street. The buildings would become more permanent, but the commodity of consumption would remain the same for well over a century.
Booze led to violence and the record of the first murder of an Englishman by an Englishman took place on the Beaufort itself, which was the veritable centre of Nova Scotia government. A man killed the boatswain’s mate and wounded two others. The criminal was promptly hanged.
Discipline was slack everywhere in the new colony and especially among military men. Cornwallis saw problems both close to home and farther afield. He sent stern orders to the regiment leaders in the Annapolis Valley to get things under control. Dissidents were promptly shot or hanged and that worked well enough in quieting those individuals but, in Halifax and elsewhere, it didn’t seem to improve the overall problem.
History is wont to record the cheery times, the moments of bliss or sense of accomplishment felt by the new settlers. Suffice it to say that there were plenty of bad decisions and a general lack of understanding of the new environment and the Native people. That first winter in Halifax set a bad precedent. Despite what had seemed to be elaborate planning, it was a tough season for the human spirit. Most people lived in crude wooden hu*ts or remained on the ships in claustrophobic quarters. Salt meat and hardtack was the menu for existence. Why hadn’t they harvested at least a good supply of edible wild fish, meat and vegetation during the summer? you might wonder. In those first two years, maybe a thousand died of typhus, taking a big bite out of the colony. Raddall suggests that the epidemic may have been a positive way of weeding out “the unclean, the drunken, the shiftless, the physical dregs.” That would certainly be putting a positive spin on a pretty bad situation.
The arrival of “hard-working” New Englanders helped to eventually improve life in Halifax, as many of them signed on to the rations list to accept the hand-outs of food previously allocated to those who were now dead.
A Question of Savages
Near the end of 1749, a Mi’kmaq “war party” came down through the Dartmouth lakes waterway and killed four men at a sawmill in Dartmouth. Other problems with the Mi’kmaq convinced Cornwallis that maybe the treaty wasn’t working out after all. His council would not commit itself to an outright war with the Mi’kmaq, “as that would be to own them a free people, whereas they ought to be looked upon as rebels to H.M. Government or as banditti ruffians.” An order went out then to take Mi’kmaq prisoners and/or kill them wherever they were to be found. It was a heartless decree of genocide and there was no concern for retribution against specific individuals who may have committed grievances against any Englishman. Instead, ten guineas was offered for every Native person, living or dead, or for his or her scalp. As money was paid for the scalps, it was rarely questioned whether it came from man, woman, child or possibly even a Frenchman or an Acadian. Cornwallis and his council had unleashed an irrevocable horror on the new land that they hoped to settle. As Mi’kmaq historian Dan Paul rightfully questions, “Who exactly were the savages here?”
In the summer of 1750, 795 more settlers arrived on three ships and by the fall of that year the population had grown to 3,200 souls. Not all of the arriving ships had been modernized with ventilation. The Ann, arriving from Rotterdam, was one of them, bringing many more sick and dying immigrants to add to the health problems of the town. Between August of 1750 and March of 1751 an average of forty-two people a month died. Winter was a particularly popular time to die in the early days of Halifax.
The summer of 1750, however, also saw the arrival of the Alderney with more than 350 passengers who set up house on the Dartmouth side of the harbour to create another community. Conflict arose with the Mi’kmaq more oftren there. Nearly twenty were killed or taken by the Native population, but the official records don’t document what English grievances and murders/scalpings may have prompted these acts. Dartmouth, in its earliest days, was a town of fear. When the Speedwell arrived in July with 212 passengers, Cornwallis had work begun to build a picket fortification wall along the wilderness side of Dartmouth. TheSpeedwell and three other ships brought new immigrants and new blood – nearly 1,000 Protestants from Switzerland and Germany who were supposed to set up in Dartmouth (probably in hopes that the Mi’kmaq would attack them first instead of thee English in Halifax). The new arrivals, however, ended up in Halifax anyway due to the fears of what lay in wait on the other side of the harbour.
Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Built-in Poverty
With so many parents dying of disease in Halifax, Cornwallis had to figure out what to do with all the orphaned children, so on June 8, 1752, an orphanage opened and the lucky woman to get the job of head matron was Mrs. Ann Wenman, who was paid three pence per day per orphan. Cornwallis optimistically calculated that the kids could be maintained by the public purse until they were old enough to work for local fishermen and earn their own keep.
In 1752 Mrs. Wenman had fifty-five orphans under her guidance, although there most certainly must have been more unattended urchins running around the primitive town. At about the same time, the hospital, never short of patients, had forty-nine citizens under its care and in August it was deemed necessary to open a section for the sickly folks who were prisoners of debt. Halifax was a city born with a kind of built-in poverty and no easy solutions, although there was some small degree of compassion as illustrated by the orphanage and the poorhouse medical care.
More ships arrived in 1752, many with Foreign Protestants. Hopson replaced Cornwallis as governor and by the end of that year the population had swelled to 5,250, of which at least 2,000 were soldiers.
Cornwallis had begged the Lords of Trade to send him more hard-working immigrants. He considered the Cockney settlers to be lazy and not much good for anything. Cornwallis thought highly of the Germans, however, and the Swiss (although these were probably immigrants from the foothills of the French Alps). Together they were referred to as the “Deutsche” or simply and incorrectly as the Dutch. The English had a way of homogenizing foreign,ers into various groupings and once a label was established, it stuck. So the “Dutch” settled on streets they named Brunswick and Gottingen and were later given some land on the peninsula itself. Blockhouses were set up for their protection. As expected, the Germans proved themselves good farmers, but they couldn’t produce enough to support the whole town and food had
to continue to be imported from Europe.
Hard Workers and an Assortment of Adventurers
In September of 1752, the Shubenacadie Mi’kmaq signed a peace treaty with the English governor that would allow the establishment of a second colony to be called Lunenburg. Unfortunately, the actual founding of the town was set back by an incident in which two Natives on the Eastern Shore supposedly killed a pair of settlers and captured two men, John Connor and James Grace, who escaped to report back to Halifax with six Mi’kmaq scalps. Dan Paul points out that there is strong evidence to prove that Connor and Grace had probably attempted to plunder a Mi’kmaq settlement. They were captured and, in escaping, murdered a woman and a child along with Mi’kmaq warriors before fleeing to Halifax in a canoe.
Early on, a church for Halifax became a priority and timber was shipped in from Boston for this purpose. St. Paul’s opened in 1750 with no pews. In many respects, the church was quite liberal for such an uptight garrison town. “Dissenters,” Mi’kmaq people and Hessian soldiers were allowed to hold services there in their own languages in the off-peak Sunday hours. Catholics, however, were given no such privilege.
Along with religion came street lights. Money was found for 400 lanterns to be hung on posts along streets and near the landings. It was a noble effort at civilizing the wilderness but, unfortunately, it became a popular pastime for Haligonians to steal or smash the lanterns, so the project turned out to be a failure.
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