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Page 41
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 companionship.
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 balustrade. Misery and desolation give men the right
of free passage everywhere. Let us suppose, then, that they mounted the
flight of steps, and passed 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 Shirley, meditating
upon matters of war and state, in Grandfather's chair!
If such an incident did happen, Shirley, 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 brimming 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."
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