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Gems of Antigonish to Remember

by

H. M. MacDonald

1972 All Rights Reserved

A CKNO WLED GEMENT

The author is indebted to the many sources that made the publication of this volume possible. Thanks to the longevity of a large number of families whose ancestors pioneered the County of Antigonish and their desire to preserve much of its early history, it has been possible to research personally much that had not reached print. To such the author is grateful. Then there are the local historians who have made records of the develop­ ment of Antigonish, the people who dwelt within its boundaries and the in­ stitutions they enriched, a labor of love. The author particularly acknowledges: History of Antigonish by D. G. Whidden A History of Antigonish County by Dr. J. W. MacDonald History of Antigonish Diocese by Rev. A. A. Johnson Hierlihy and his Times by C. J. McGillivray THE ANTIGONISH CASKET which for a period of three years carried a weekly column on Memory Lane Finally the author is compelled to express his sincere gratitude to CASK­ ET readers who urged the publication of our gems of memory, not least of whom is Rev. J. A. Ross of Detroit, a former resident of Antigonish, who made this volume a reality. To Tess, my wife, who for more than two score years has travelled with me down Memory Lane in Antigonish County

I dedicate this volume '•'-"•''.';:•

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page INTRODUCTION 8

1. THE BEGINNING 11

2. THE RURAL SCENE . 14

3. THE SHIRETOWN 29

4. LANDMARKS 36

5. CHURCHES AND SCHOOLS 48

6. SENTIMENTAL 63

7. GHOSTS AND KINDRED SPIRITS 75

8. PLACE NAMES 87

9. UNFORGETTABLE CHARACTERS 98

10. ETHNIC MILESTONES 113

11. WHEN FARAWAY FIELDS LOOKED

GREEN 120

12. NATIVE HUMOR 130

(See Index,p. 136) ANTIGONISH

I found a town where children play And church bells ring to greet the day, Where I can smell the August hay It's here I thought that I would stay.

I wanted so to hear the streams Writing the score for idle dreams. To be where people did not run And stopped to pray when day was done.

A town of youngsters, trim and strong, Of little children, bells and song, I told myself should this I find, I would know peace of heart and mind.

All this I found and even more So I shall not wander evermore But stay until my life doth end, Counting each and every friend.

And I shall live the fullest life Serenely labor, freed from strife, Drinking deep of time and space And seeking not another place.

Walking fields both green and brown Climbing up and climbing down. Meeting creatures face to face That do not live in every place.

For I shall know the timid deer, The wily trout, the awesome bear. I will find my own retreat Where my town and the forest meet.

The nearby sea will roam and foam Calling to me that I am home, And I will laze along the sand Skipping stones with weathered hand.

Life will end in the quiet night And all will stop, for death is right. When that time comes, I ask of thee The bells to ring, just for me.

Then take me to the hillside high Where so many good folk lie. Cease not to sing, because I go . . . I lie in peace, my town below.

J. H. (Reprinted courtesy of Brian O'Connell) ILLUSTRATIONS

Cover: aerial photo of St. Francis Xavier University- campus, showing part of the town of Antigonish. 4: Lochaber Lake, subject of Joseph Howe's well- known poem. (Formac Photo) 28: Ballantyne's Cove — Many immigrants, including Dr. Murphy, first minister of health, landed here. (Formac Photo) 33: Wilkie and Cunningham's, Main Street, Antigonish; as it used to be. 35: Main Street, Antigonish, during the annual High­ land Games parade. 36: Aquinas and Xavier Halls, St. Francis Xavier Uni­ versity, Antigonish. These are among the oldest buildings on the campus. 38: Unfortunately, no photograph of the original An­ tigonish bandstand was available for publishing, but it greatly resembled the one in this picture. 42: The town clock in the tower above the old post office, corner of Main and College Streets. 47: This cairn was erected in 1961 on the site oi St. Bean's Roman Catholic Church, built at Keppoch in the year 1870. 57: Antigonish Rural School, Maryvale. 62: St. Ninian's Cathedral, Antigonish, built 1867- 1874. 82: This photo shows part of the skeleton of a ship buried in the sands of Malignant Cove, Antigonish County, only visible during an extreme low tide. 86: A view of the old bridge at Doctor's Brook. 112: The silver teapot (referred to in the story on p. 110) which Queen Victoria presented to "Captain Angus" MacDonald. NATIONAL WEEKLY PUBLISHED IN ANTIGONISH SINCE 1352 Ch

VOL. )]?.. NO. 3 ,.., aviONISll, N. S. UJGUST 26

Down Memoiry Lane Rev. Malcolm president of SI. F University, anno dav that new ho tions would be i F. X. for the u[ astic year. The presider CAMERA SHOTS silent movies Charlie Chap- universitv sen lin, Ben Turpin, Harold Lloyd, ed throe tvpa How long ago it seems since Fatty Arbuckle, the Three for male stud; a dedicated teacher of the old Stooges and a score ol conic- dances, residi 11;::n S.reet School aroused dims carried the torch male visitatioi his so-so class in elementary through the medium o f cine- fined f) lor science l;y demonstrating how ma. "open" reside the first camera was conceiv­ be visited h ed. Then TV entered the homes certain hoin and families wait in v in for • "Or~ shalk box every morsel of hums r that His .stati- he sul)- WJUl'd lighten the burden of dents we- )f foil the dav and the heat One polled a 'iirccl feature, Candid Camera made tions w h a its appearance and so n era basis o my of homely relaxation \ •as i i

Introduction

Several years ago when the spectre of retirement began to cast its inexorable spell across my path the urge to share with my contemporaries some of the precious experiences of youth that lay dormant for many years, was irresistible. The freelance writing which had been a hobby of mine in leisure moments for some years previ­ ously and had produced "These Changing Times", "Recol­ lections" and "Memory Lane", suggested that a weekly column in our local newspaper would strike a responsive chord. Shortly after the final installment of the last series was published the author was urged by readers on the home front and kinsfolk abroad to compile a volume of the pieces from which, in the words oi one, "dreams are made" and revived. To this end I have selected from a total of 110,000 words in the column installments some sixty historic and nostalgic topics to produce a volume of twelve chapters of 36,000 words, woven around a rural community and its shiretown. While the reader is guided down memory lane of Antigonish, Nova Scotia and the county of which it is the shiretown, the landmarks, the unassuming men and women of the community — their idiosyncrasies and their superstitions, their culture and racial characteristics are no different than the homesick individual of Saska­ toon, Detroit or Kapuskasing in Ontario. It is the same longing of the spirit, the same hunger for home prompted sometimes by the chance remark of a stranger overheard on a tram car, or the facial resemblance of a pedestrian on a city street, or the voice on the radio singing a favorite song or lament such as one which touches the heart of every Scot — the predominant ancestry of the majority of those who made Antigonish their home away-from- home: "I mourn for the Highlands, so bleak and forsaken, The land of our fathers, the gallant and brave. To make room for the sportsman, their lands were all taken, And they had to seek out new homes o'er the waves." Memory Lane is just such a chronicle of the emo­ tions experienced by the elders of the Antigonish com­ munity who chose to remain near the scenes of their youth and by those less fortunate ones who found it necessary for economic or professional reasons to wander abroad but are compelled from time to time to cast a glimpse at the nostalgic past, recalling Main Street and its landmarks, the countryside with its homely comforts and the hospitality and the unpretentious culture which entible them to preserve the annals of their historic strug­ gle for survival together with their native legends and folklore without professing belief in either of them. To better understand Antigonish, and indeed any county of Nova Scotia one naturally places no small importance to the names attached to them. Some com­ munities are named by governmental agencies, others for no particular reason or by jesters. Sometimes a dialect peculiar to an area gives rise to placenames which when spoken convey quite a different meaning from that which they were intended to convey. Few natives of Antigonish really bother to learn the significance of the descriptive terms used, only to dis­ cover too late that a colloquial expression had 'stuck' and thus was embarrassing, as in the instance of the sometime recurring use of 'beach' and 'beech'. The form­ er when with reference to a sandy shore is quite proper, as is the latter when it refers to a hill of hardwood trees. Nevertheless it is not uncommon to hear some Antigonish folks refer to a popular bathing resort as "Mahoneys Bitch" and to a school district as "Bitch Hill", although strangely enough they might refer to Gettysburg and Shenandoah or Lundys Lane and Seven Oaks as would any American or Central Canada visitor. To better understand Antigonish there is one other advice: remember that the term 'exile' has particular sig­ nificance in Nova Scotia, since this province has been a sanctuary of exiles, some political, others for economic reasons. There are the Acadians of the South Shore, the Irish of Halifax, the Dutch of Lunenburg, the Loyalists of Shelburne and the Scottish Highlander of the eastern counties. Consequently each with its own particular herit­ age blends with the others to produce the characteristics that offer a people apart — the 'Bluenose' breed. It is the desire of the author that going Down Mem­ ory Lane of Antigonish the reader will discover the ele­ ments from which the 'Bluenose' is made.

- H. M. MacDonald 1

MEMORY LANE

THE BEGINNING

It's good to see the old home town And the folks you used to know; I guess outside of heaven There's no better place to go. —Anon.

The old home town is more than just a place where folks are born, sometimes live in and where as a rule they die. For the majority of us the old home town, as we remember it, is a sacred spot which clings to our memory as we journey on our pilgrimage through life. Antigonish is such a hallowed place. It is worth knowing. Three centuries ago Antigonish was called "Indian Gardens". It was an Eden through which three small rivers meandered amid primeval forests of hard and soft timber, depositing rich soil as they emptied their waters into The Harbor. Long before the white man discovered Antigonish, Micmac braves paddled their birch-bark canoes into the harbor of St. George's Bay where the delta formed at the estuary was rich in food from sea and soil. In mid-17th century the French explorer, Nicholas Denys, sent traders from his Chedabucto fort inland to barter trinkets for the furs that the Indians trapped. The traders called the encampment "Indian Gardens" but the Micmac tribes referred to the place as "Nartigon- neich", although Denys recorded the name as "Antigo- nishe". Since Micmacs speak a holophrastic language the translation would be "a river of fish with many waters". Following the arrival of the traders missionaries came to

11 bring the message of Christianity to the native villagers and they also accepted 'Antigonishe' while 'Indian Gardens' became a memory. Another hundred years passed into history and with it internecine strife in Europe, while in America the Brit­ ish colonies rebelled against the motherland. The Revolu­ tion made a difficult choice for many citizens. Thousands of the settlers in the New England States chose to remain loyal to the Empire. Some forsook professions and busi­ nesses and disposed of their possessions to migrate to Canada; others took up arms in the struggle and as a reward for their services were allowed grants of land in their adopted country. Among the latter were Colonel Timothy Hierlihy and his Connecticut veterans with their families who received a grant of 23,000 acres a short distance beyond the present north limits of the Town of Antigonish. The choice of this particular site for settlement was not an accident. While the War of Independence was still in progress, Colonel Hierlihy was commanded to pursue a number of deserting soldiers along the shores of the Northumberland Strait. His trail led him into the en­ trance of Antigonish Harbor. It was in the autumn of the year and the surrounding forests of maple, oak and pop­ lar were ablaze in color and reflecting their grandeur on the surface of the water, ft was then that Hierlihy vowed that if fortune favored him he would one day make his retirement in this paradise. Wars ended and peace returned. Hierlihy applied for land grants for himself and his men in 1783. His petition was granted. He procured a vessel and with supplies for the families of his men, set out from Halifax. They en­ tered the Strait of Canso and sailed along the shore into St. George's Bay. Legend tells that when in 1784 Hierlihy arrived at the Entrance, the Indians along the shore be­ came terrified at the approach of armed men and weapons of war. Rescuing the sacred vessels from their chapel they put the little church to flames and fled to the forest.

12 This was the beginning of the exodus of Micmacs from "Indian Gardens" and as a result the founding of Town Point, which would be later named "Dorchester" prior to its final designation as ANTIGONISH. The lact that hostilities abroad had come to an end was no guarantee that the dream of Timothy Hierlihy would become a reality. Alas, the veterans and their kin were in a strange and pioneer land which was not the environment familiar to army men or ones accustomed to urban life. The soldiers were ignorant of agriculture and the women folk, who had been accustomed to the social amenities of military establishments, were not prepared for frontier seclusion. Disenchanted, most of the grantees disposed of their holdings for a pittance and wandered away; others elected to exchange lots lor those who held ones at Indian Gardens, but Hierlihy himself chose to remain with the lew remaining members of his family who came with him to Town Point. Deserted by so many of his comrades Colonel Hierli­ hy lived a lonely existence until in 1797 at the age ot only sixty-three he wasted away 'unwept, unhonored and unsung' alone in a tiny cottage at the top of the hill overlooking The Harbor. Forty years later Town Point was abandoned and today one searches in vain for the tomb of Timothy Hierlihy for no one bothered to mark his resting place with a stone. Somewhere in God's Acre at Town Point the cleared space that was guarded by a circle of trees has gone the way of desolation, consumed by rank vegetation bent on restoring the terrain to its primeval state. Perhaps here within the little confine the angelic cherub, gracing a stone, may thrust its gentle face above the sod to remind us that "All else is lost and faded, Only the listening head Keeps with a strange unanswering smile Its secret with the dead."

13 THE RURAL SCENE

I suppose that there is nothing very incongruous about Antigonish retaining some of the agricultural char­ acteristics that the growing village had accepted as a necessary development from rural to urban status. To the very last the social caste of the town maintained carriage horses and stables while permitting the middle and labor­ ing classes to possess a cow and to erect a barn to shelter the stock. Gone are the days when sophisticated matrons looked with horror morning and evening at a procession of cows en route to barn or pasture, and daring to pause at the call of nature near a doorstep or a freshly mown lawn. Gone too are the days when herdboys contracted for the princely sum of one dollar a month for each cow driven from barn to pasture, nor was the task too demand­ ing, for the boys rarely carried a Timex to fetch a lost animal since cattle without benefit of watch were always found ready at the pasture gate ready to be escorted to the milking byre. Yet in spite of the nostalgia associated with city cows and pastures it is more than likely that the friendly beasts would derive little pleasure today ambling nonchalantly down memory lane in university- based Antigonish.

From the rear of the site where for many years St. James Manse stood one looks across the Whidden Trailer Court towards two modern housing developments, one on each side of the Brierly Brook at West End Antigonish. Row upon row of neat little bungalows and ranch houses in 2-tone pink, yellow, green, red, blue and white shades that defy the spectrum, seem to cling to the hillside that constitutes the subdivisions. It is such a scene as this which a few years back prompted the songster, who gazed on the picturesque hills around San Francisco, to com­ pose the best-selling record "Little Boxes".

14 Ah, who would believe that less than fifty years ago Highland Drive and Braemore subdivisions were Crocket, Whidden and Trotter cow pastures. There are yet many residents in the prime of life who still can visualize the erstwhile pastures dotted with grazing bovine life; little red cows and black cows, yellow ones and grey ones, orange cows and white ones, just like the little colored boxes of the California song. Although Antigonish never claimed to be a Virginia City or to boast of a Ponderosa ranch in the neighbor­ hood it did enjoy the pre-eminence attached to the rural scene. It was not always a university and residential town and despite the fact that farmers of the district drive automobiles today there was the time when shoppers rode into the town by saddle, bareback or carriage and hitched their horses to posts or rails where car meters now stand at the curbs. Unlike Dodge City Antigonish did not have hitching- posts because graceful trees lined the streets around which rural shoppers tied their steeds. Parking areas were un­ known but the more progressive merchants erected sta­ bles where their customers rested their horses while they themselves shopped or quaffed a dram of spirits at the local tavern. As for an Antigonish 'Rural Scene' and the hospital­ ity of the countryside the narratives that follow are told.

15 Abandoned Districts

It is a rare day that one does not encounter along the shopping sections of Antigonish an old friend or ac­ quaintance who by lorce of circumstances was numbered among the last ones to abandon their homes on the marginal lands that pioneers mistakenly had settled in the County. Sometimes the meeting is merely for a pass­ ing salutation; other times for a brief chat to reminisce on mutual kinfolk and the homely pleasures that made a lifetime of unremitting toil almost endurable. But pri­ vately I have always wondered if these lonely survivors are in fact ever 'homesick' for their birthplace or whether they ever secretly return there momentarily to meditate on the scenes of their childhood. No longer does any evidence remain of contented homesteads on Eigg Mountain and Maple Ridge whence a robust piper led his Highland followers in search of a plot of land to call their own. No longer does one find signs that ever an habitation existed at Donnybrook and Hollowed Grant to which lusty sons of Eire fled from their homeland to escape economic and political persecu­ tion. Where are the hearths around which laughter and cheer made the ceilidhs of Greendale, Morven and Middle- ton memorable social events? Lost too, amid the heaps of field stones at the Keppoch and Morven, last relics of a hardy race, are the priceless recipes of heather mist for which today the House of Seagram would pay a king's ransom. I wonder, yes I wonder, if the 'homesick' exile, back from a last glimpse of vanished communities, some­ times hears the ghostly crooning of that sentimental song of the South: "This old house is getting shabby . . . Ain't going to need this house no longer Ain't going to need this house no more Ain't got time to mend the shingles, Ain't got time to mend the floor . . ."

f6 II not the voices ol some phantom songster, then perhaps the memoirs left by two sons of pioneers in the County of Antigonish all the more arouse the nostalgia people of good will have lor home.

The pen-name "Sagart Arasaig" was as familiar to eastern Nova Scotia as was THE CASKET to readers almost one century ago. lie was then the pastor of Arisaig, following his long service in the Ohio vineyard of which the now abandoned Keppoch was a part seventy years before he wrote: "One thing is certain, the Keppoch is the nearest place to heaven in the whole County. Thus the good people of the Keppoch are in a position to look down upon the rest ol the County — an offset to some of its drawbacks . . . when oui Keppoch shall have enjoyed the advantages of human cultivation and do no discredit to its original namesake (in Scotland). Certainly the Keppoch is a considerable protuberance thrown up by some convolution ol nature as a natural rampart between Ohio in the County of Antigonish and the Garden of Eden in the County of Pictou."

Among the proteges of "Sagart Arasaig" was an Irish youth who surmounted all the obstacles placed in the way of rural youth of his day to become one of the eminent members of the medical profession of the Pro­ vince. Dr. George Murphy, likewise in the twilight of his humanitarian years tells us in his 'Wood Hay and Stub­ ble" of other homely memories associated with the now deserted areas of Antigonish. He wrote how "moods found fitting expression in the social urgings of the settle­ ment (Donnybrook) when the night frolic came to lend its lighter touch, that toil and social pleasures might walk arm in arm. None was so isolated that no haunting memories of the soft and delirious delights of a previous existence added bitter remorse to the hardness of their fate."

We are sure that both pastor and doctor would have also referred future generations to the lines ol Goldsmith:

17 "Ill fares the land to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish or may fade, A breath can make them as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied."

The Rural Picnic

There was very little need to advertise the annual rural picnics of the County. For months past the home folks had been writing their kin in Boston that the great event would be held as usual directly after the Highland Games. Then, of course, every one in the village was talking about the forthcoming affair in aid of the grist mill. The girls of the district had no more than put their Easter bonnets in storage when they began scrutinizing the latest mail order catalogue for styles that would guarantee a partner for every 8-hand reel. The local swains had an advantage, transportation was not a problem. On the other hand the lads of the Town had to reserve long in advance horse and carriage from the livery stables to be certain that they would not miss the big picnics of their choice. Then there were those pugilist- ically inclined. It was said that not a few were doing con­ siderable shadow-boxing during the winter months to improve their mediocre showing on the occasion of the last picnic. Although a number of patrons of the mill advocated holding the picnic at a different site each year, the direct­ ors always felt that the proper place was near the mill — a sort of sharp advertising that added prestige to the venture. In any event the 2-acre lot was always available and fenced with recently cut stands of young spruce interwoven with three strands of barbwire to make certain that all admissions to the grounds would be via the one official gate.

18 The local sawmill could be depended on to provide for the day a sufficient supply of boards and two-by-fours to erect booths for refreshments, games and an outside dancing pavilion. Freshly cut branches of maple, birch and alder added both shade and a summer touch to the booths. There were few flags in evidence other than the single Union Jack over the admission gate. However a number of pennants of questionable history flew over the different booths to add color to the rural scene. The various committees were active from early morning so that, weather permitting, action should begin any time after noon hour. Angus the Ridge and Big Alec were on hand with the pipes to lend an official opening to the picnic to the music of Clanranald's March. Before two o'clock the grounds were crowded. The light refresh­ ment booth was well stocked with strawberry and choco­ late ice cream, a wide choice of penny candies, with gin- gerale, iron brew, root beer and sarsaparilla pop for the children. Mothers or older sisters usually escorted the younger ones to the refreshment counter to make sure that each received his or her just share of the promised treats and to see to it that the little ones were not short­ changed by the busy help across the counter. Nearby was the ubiquitous Wheel-of-Fortune with the barker whirling the wheel around while extravagantly offering odds not unlike the Irish Sweepstake. Amid the huge throng would be heard: "Around and around it goes and where it stops nobody knows . . . some homes made happy, some made glad just for 10 cents, one dime, one- tenth of a dollar". Crowds pressed forward to see if they were the fortunate ones or perhaps to learn of the neighbor who won that crisp ONE DOLLAR BILL. Hardly had the enthusiasm of the whirl of the wheel subsided than spectators pressed forward to watch the "Gillie Ban" from St. Andrew's swing a fencing mall to ring the bell three consecutive times 20 feet above the ground platform. Rejecting the cigar award for his hum­ ble feat the champion accepted the alternative currency

19 which he quickly proceeded to liquidate at the adjacent booth which was catering to the midsummer thirst of the merrymakers who had long since formed a queue at the bar where rich draft beer (porter) was being dispensed at a dime a glass. What an age that was to have lived in! Most of the patrons cheerfully contributed to one guess at the number of beans in the jar for a chance to win that elusive gold piece secreted at the bottom of the glass and to purchase 3-tickets-for-a-quarter on the quilt to be raffled later in the evening. So the afternoon passed amid greetings and homely fun. The days of lobster, salmon and turkey dinners were as yet far into the future but it was generally felt that the refreshments provided sufficed for the tasks at hand — particularly for the big square dance feature of the picnic. By mid-afternoon the ears of the young folks would hear the tune "Listen to the Mocking Bird" from the fiddle of George Jackson or perhaps the familiar "The Old Washerwoman" by Lauchie Gillis and with that the show was on. On, on, went the 4 and 8-hand reels, fiddle tunes seemed endless, couples tireless and heedless of the figure calls of the prompter. Not even the cry that in the far end of the grounds Dan Archie and Angus Neil had 'taken on' the ablest 'scrap­ pers' from The Mines, appeared to have enticed other than the perennial 'wall-flowers' from their ring-side seats at the dancing pavilion. Ah! it was a gala affair — the grist mill picnic. "And do you know that they cleared almost $1000," was the last anyone heard of the jamboree.

20 The Country Dance

Lauchlin Fraser was born in the Black River district of Antigonish County the year before Confederation. Thirty years later, yet unmarried, he was one of four brothers on the old homestead, all of them enjoying the usual pastimes of that period — frolics, pie-socials and dances. Our Lauchie was restless, restless to see the world, well restless like many of his chums. Most of the girls of the parish had already gone to Boston where they found employment as domestics. But it wras the news of rich silver discoveries in Nevada and Montana that captured the fancy of Lauchie Fraser, and so nobody7 was sur­ prised to learn that he quietly left home to join others from the neighborhood who had located in Butte which was then the busiest, wildest and most glamorous town in America. A quarter of a century is a Ion" time • : •: T-I' ufe separated from home and kinsfolk, particular.) for one like Lauchie Fraser. So it was that wanderlust again found him in fertile soil and as the Wise Men of the Scriptures he turned his footsteps eastwards. First he tarried in Chicago, then Detroit for some years and finally, as the ominous clouds of World War Two cast their shadows on the States, the friendly city of Boston in the Common­ wealth of Massachusetts welcomed the traveller from Black River. It was the end of the line for him.

A the vatious gatherings Lauchie would narrate yarns of his travels, of his personal exploits and of the strange characters who shared his leisure time. He told them of the dance halls oi tire West during the boom years and the lavish balls in the State Capitals of the nation while his hosts would counter by reciting the emergence of the Tango, the Rumba and the Charleston as the most recent devel >pments in dancing entertain­ ment. However no conversation was complete without the recollections of the Country Dances of th^ir youthful years back in Antigonish.

21 The mere reference to the Old Country Dance now revived nostalgic memories for Lauchlin Fraser and no­ thing would do until someone volunteered to accompany him in an evening to the Down East Hall on Dudley Street where he would be sure to hear the Gaelic. How­ ever, insofar as he was concerned the French could keep their Minuet, the Russians their Ballet, the Bohemians their Polka; yes, and he would allow the Scots their Highland Fling and the Irish their Jigs but just give him the good old 8-hand reel at a dance in Ohio schoolhouse anytime. When the wanderer from Black River would return to his lodging house on Commonwealth Avenue after an evening at Dudley Street, he would sink into his old Morris chair and doze off recalling the Country Dances of his youth. He would imagine the boys and girls wait­ ing for the first call of a set as organ and fiddie stirred the impatient coupies to action. "Choose your partners!" shouted Billy Mclnnis, the prompter, from his place on the teacher's platform in the room and in a flash there would be a mad rush and scramble for the gallants to beg the hand of their lassies and find a convenient part of the room near the music. For Lauchie in his reverie, he could still hear the music, the clapping of hands and the tapping of feet of spectators keeping tune and he could see the gay and ruffled skirts of the lassies whose lithe bodies swung in tempo with the beat. He even felt himself calling the familiar figures as he sometimes did back home: "Sashay down the center, and now do-si-do, Steal just a little kiss when the lights are low: Eight hands round folks; watch it, you don't fall! Make the rafters shake and ring AND prome­ nade all!" Copious tears would fill the eyes of the old man, re­ calling in his dreams the dancing visions before him, while the prompter tirelessly guided the dancers through the

22 various figures ol the reel. So another day passed while Lauchlin Fraser dreamed away those joys ol happy days at Black River in the County of Antigonish, and he often wondered if cousin Malcolm at West River ever married that red-headed daughter of Alex-the-Salmon that he had been so sweet on.

Fuarag Time

Believe it or not there is today among the countless avocations designed to satisfy the curiosity of men a study referred to as antiquarian research which has un­ earthed sufficient data to confirm the fact that every race has its peculiar folklore, its mysteries and its superstitions but it seems to be the Celts that enjoy the greatest degree ol belief in prescience. With this admission the origin of and the associations with Halloween's seem to be quite in order and what more appropriate time to revive the memories than within the Octave of All Saints, despite the fact that much of the folklore is traced to pagan rites. Having established the date when pagan Scots cele­ brated samnuiin it becomes imperative to relate that Halloween's had likewise a definite Christian origin since it is evident that it was so named from Hallow (Holy) Eve or the 'Eve of All Saints'. The Druids themselves called it 'All Spirits Day' without reference to the sancti­ ty of their spirits. While retaining a measure of the trick­ ery of pagan customs the Scots, particularly the Highland Scots, who found their way into the eastern counties of Nova Scotia, observed the vigil of All Saints by preparing their favorite dish of Fuarag as a treat for neighbors who visited the homes ol the districts at Halloween's. FUARAG is the Gaelic term (furach in English) for a mixture of meal with water or milk and, of course, is

23 like porridge, saluted by the poet Burns as "the balesome pairitch, chief o' Scotia's food" but differs from the latter inasmuch as fuarag requires thick cream 'on the sour' with oat meal. For days prior to Halloween the housewife carefully scrutinized her churns, keeping the required amount of err -:n in her dairy room (predating refrigerators) of her cellar. After the guests arrived and an estimate of the amount of fuarag that would be requh ed had been made she blended an amount of the fresher cream with that from the cellar and whipped into the rich fluid oatmeal of the desired texture. Result: a delicacy which chal­ lenges Lowland Burns's description of 'haggis' — "this the greatest of Scots savouries". A large punchbowl, usually the wash basin from the bedroom set containing fuarag, is placed on a table in the living room, while the hostess in the presence of guests stirred a wedding ring and a bone button into the relish. The guests, armed with a dessert or mixing spoon, waded into the fuarag satisfying their ancestral anpetites while prospecting for gold and a button. Dining on the (uarag dish naturally was a Christian custom. Inclusion ol a wedding ring and a bone button in the recipe was a legacy from pagan beliefs since i' foretold spinsterhood or bachelorhood for the unfortun­ ate one who found the button in his or her spoon but marriage for the one chancing on the gold ring. In one Antigonish rural home the same wedding ring provided the honors for the fiftieth time on Oct. 31st .1970. In' the event that fuarag did not rest well on the digestion ol some guests, Halloween fortune-telling in­ cluded bobbing apples, cracking hazelnuts and related superstitious antics such as consuming highly salted food prior to retiring for the night in the hope that this condi­ ment might invoke a dream of forthcoming fortune. "Strange riles to usher in a religious festival," some- said, while Scots insisted there was no longer evil abroad after All Saints bestowed their blessings on the fuarag brew.

24 The Country Store

For the past decade there is what one would call a pretty good store at the Cross Roads. Well, not a K-Mart or anything like that, but a well-stocked rural establish­ ment to serve the parish. Just off the high',ay limits and towards the entrance to the building a gasoline service unit is located where a hitching rail for horses used to be. Inside the shop one sees shelves filled with canned goods of every description, commodities usually advertised on the local radio and TV programs. Apart from the counter and cash register the only furniture consists of a cooler for soft drinks and ice cream. Not even a chair is in evidence, convincing proof that it is not a place for loitering. However between the store proper and warehouse to the rear of the building where packaged supplies are held there is a comfortable little private room where the merchant and some of his intimate friends of the district, including the pastor, convene frequently after closing hours in off-seasons for a few harmless games of penny- ante and social thinking. Well it was in this company and environment that young Father Gerard learned about the first country store that stood on the present site, doing business with early setters for more than one hundred years. Some one nicknamed the room "The Senate" because of the antiquity of its members and the futility of their deliberations. Many a tear was shed at the Cross Roads on the day that 'Little Allan's' store was burnt to the ground. Al­ though no living resident could remember exactly the year it was built, tradition enlightened each generation in the knowledge that from its opening day until fire reduced the structure to ashes, the merchandise on the shelves, hanging from countless nails in vacant spaces on the walls and under the counter, had changed none, because during all the years 'Little Allan's' store re­ mained in the founding family.

25 Cross Roads was a farming community with a church, a forge and 'Little Allan's' general store. There was no bank, nor was there need of one for the very reason that all financial transactions were by the way of barter. Once each week the homesteaders brought to Little Allan tubs of butter from their churns, baskets of fresh eggs or bundles of hides from recent butchering and Allan marked down in his huge ledger the values he placed on these items and then credited to each customer at the current price of the respective commodities. Inas­ much as the era predated the services of refrigeration (except in the winter) the merchant was compelled to take all the risks in handling perishable products that could not be delivered to urban markets until the volume warranted it. Ordinarily whatever losses were incurred through storage might be adjusted by the price tag on the store goods. But not so with the country store. If any­ thing the credit allowed seemed limitless in spite of negligible security.

There would be frequent opportunities for Father Gerard to satisfy his curiosity when his older parishioners declaimed the wastefulness of modern society by empha­ sizing what were the essentials stocked by the country store. He would learn how neighbors would meet around the friendly Quebec heater to discuss matters of worldly interests while helping themselves to the open cracker barrel. Before many "Senate" sessions the pastor would have a pretty clear picture of 'Little Allan's' shop. Besides the stove and cracker barrel, the puncheon of molasses occupied most of the floor space. From the ceiling vari­ ous pieces of harness and bucksaws hung among squares of flypaper that had long since captured as many insects as the surface afforded. On one end of the counter stood a cabinet containing and marked "Diamond Dyes"; on the other, a glass case which displayed ropes of licorice, 'conversation' candy, spruce gum and peppermint sticks that at one time had been white and red alternately striped, but now partly eroded and generously speckled

26 by swarms of flying insects that invaded this secluded sanctum of sweetness. Beneath the counter there were ingeniously con­ structed compartments holding large quantities of granu­ lated and brown sugars, tea, coarse salt, dried beans and split peas, that could be ladled out conveniently near the faithful scales. On the lower shelves one found slabs of Master Mason pipe tobacco and an open carton of Archie McKenna's juicy Pictou Twist. Little Allan never boasted that his store was a pharmaceutical center al­ though he did keep directly above the tobacco such re­ medies as Minard's Liniment, Dodd's Kidney Pills, Dr. Chase's Ointment, naphtha soap, mustard, flaxseed and panacea. The upper shelves exhibited brogans for men and the latest fashions in ladies' patent leather shoes. The more expensive styles remained in one long row in boxes that sometimes served the dual purpose of preserving the finish on the footwear and holding flasks of contraband alcohol for discriminating customers thus keeping it safe fronr the prying eyes of revenue officers. Ah! yes, it was indeed a splendid institution, the old country store, and we shall never see the like of it again! mused the local parish pastor as he walked across the road to his lonely glebehouse, remembering that Little Allan accepted the priest's dues among his various barter transactions. Much water has passed under the bridge, as the say­ ing goes, since the first general store opened its doors to the early settlers of Antigonish County. To this time- honored institution the farmers brought their butter, cheese, eggs, carcasses of beef, the wool, hides and other agricultural produce to exchange for sugar, tea, molasses, vinegar, bread and such commodities as were essential to the rural home of that period. Before long currency and credit became the accepted medium ol exchange. This was the exit of the barter system for goods and services, first in the village then gradually in the rural districts until finally the old general store was extinct; specializa-

27 tion for the consumer's convenience and economy became the order of the day except those from-which ambitious few great business empires arose and Mail Order houses became the popular method of shopping.

28 SHIRETOWN

In contemplating the birth or beginning of a com­ munity one is compelled to recall how Holy Writ tells , that God created heaven and earth, and the earth was vast and wide. It is scarcely necessary for Scriptures to , narrate how Nova Scotia came into being. That task was left to a native son of the Province who had travelled in many lands. Horatio Crowell rhetorically asked, "Did it ever occur to you that the Creator may have left this little sea-girt peninsula until the last. That after He had finished His great masterpiece He may have . . . set aside ever so little of the congealing mass upon which to im­ print His own special image?" While Antigonish was yet a tiny hamlet there arrived one day no less a visitor than Hon. Thomas Chandler Haiiburton, great parliamentarian, Justice of the Supreme Court and author of that splendid piece of literature, 'The Sayings and Doings of Samuel Slick the Clockmaker'. He left his impression of Antigonish thus:

"I have seldom seen a more beautiful town. The people around are remarkably orderly and well be­ haved . . . The homes are bright and clean, and neatly painted, displaying great taste and architect­ ure . . . The shade and ornamental trees along the STREETS in front of the houses, with beautifully laid out gardens, give it a most romantic appearance."

With so flattering an introduction from such emin­ ent men it is imperative that the reader be conducted on a pilgrimage such as "Sam Slick" must have done.

29 Main Street

It would be an unromantic town indeed that could not boast of a Main Street. While London has its Oxford Street, New York its Wall Street and Toronto its Yonge Street, Antigonish is content to be in the company of the bustling city of Winnipeg and one hundred and more proletariat centers across Canada and America in sharing its treasure with the locale of the best-selling novel of Sinclair Lewis. It is just possible that the popular author had never heard the legend that associated the principal thoroughfare of Antigonish with the trail, which more than two hundred years ago was blazed by a certain Micmac brave named Joe Snake, en route from Williams Point to Hartshorne Grant. So much the misfortune of the novelist.

30 Like the sagas of Norse history which hick an authen­ tic documentation, the pre-incorporation years of Anti­ gonish have had to depend on the long and trustworthy memory of dedicated local students of each generation of citizens. But one generally discovers someone familiar with Main Street, the buildings that stood beyond the narrow side-walks, the sharp business transacted within their walls and the people who dwelt or followed their respective avocations under these roofs.

And so it is that armed with the necessary data MEMORY LANE now recalls such little known facts as the three bridges that once spanned as many rivers (or streams) which traversed Main Street; of the dams, dykes and canals; ol a pest house and an insane asylum; of the churches, taverns and fraternities that constituted a demo­ cratic group of people.

In fancy with old friends we shall stroll "Along the Main" searching in vain lor the name-plates of yesteryear. Where, O where, are the Dixons, Turnbulls, Robbs and Hellyers, the Copelands, Sutherlands, McCurdys, Harring­ tons, Trotters and Fosters identified with business or professions here less than 100 years ago? Where are the Hierlihys and the grantees whose sires bestowed on their offspring the heritage of a Town and Main Street? Only the Cunninghams and the Chisholms, the Whiddens and the Frasers, the Grahams, MacDonalds and Archibalds remain of those pioneers who persisted in making the dream a reality.

Antigonish is a good town, a modern law-abiding community where peoples of many races and beliefs have come to make their homes or to learn from its institu­ tions. But it has a history, a history written in every building, stream and family along "The Main". So now a sidewalk view.

31 Sidewalks

Were it not for the fact that sidewalks ensure a de­ gree of safety for children on their way to and from school in Antigonish, there probably is not much justifi­ cation for their existence, since automobiles usually take care of themselves. Besides, the taxpayer would be spared no small amount in his tax burden. Highland Drive and Braemore subdivisions seemed to have fared quite well without sidewalks, as have a number of older streets in the shiretown. Sidewalks! one is reminded of a certain community that boasted ol being the 'biggest town' in Canada and had lacked sidewalks for so long that when eventually the City Fathers provided the citizens with the modern con­ venience the citizens still continued to share street traffic with motor vehicles. Indeed in one of the longer and older streets in Antigonish more pedestrians still use the accident-prone thoroughfare than the sidewalks that they so urgently pressured the authorities to provide. Nevertheless despite the period of 2-car families and shopping malls there yet remains a place for sidewalks in the University town as there was at the time it was a village. How, after all, could merchants advertise their wares and where could one neighbor meet another neigh­ bor to discuss 'the most awful affair' or the last 'most delightful tea' of the season. What incentive would there be to make business establishments sufficiently attractive to welcome interested investors or clients seeking legal counsel if there were not pleasant streets. A long, long time ago when the town had only 'foot-paths' a visitor complimented the inhabitants on the well-gravelled walks on either side of which were flower beds with plants of many hues and perfumes. For which reason the citizens took great pride in their so- called 'sidepaths' as they progressed from gravel to cinder, from cinder to asphalt, from asphalt to concrete. Of course once winter set in, snow and ice were quite

32 ' another story. Curbs and crosswalks had as yet not made ' an appearance and litter cans had yet to await the ap- 1 pointment of 'Red Archie' the popular law enforcement 1 officer of the community. To have developed sidewalks from footpaths was not a major accomplishment because Antigonish until some years after its incorporation in 1889 was still a rural community with the majority of the inhabitants possessing a stable on the property in addition to the family residence. Nevertheless as early as 1845 anyone owning poultry and farm stock was compelled by law to prevent them from wandering at large in the village, par­ ticularly unattended in the streets. At the January term of the General Sessions of the Peace for the County that year laws governing livestock in the village were en­ acted to remove the nuisance value of beasts. The provisions enacted at the General Sessions a century-and-a-half ago were enforced without fear or fa­ vor by Robert Nesbit Henry, Clerk of the Court and Bail­ iff of the Village, who made certain that horse or cow, swine or goats, geese or hens would thereafter share the privilege of parading along the sidewalks reserved for sometime more rational beings of a college town. Besides in the absence of farm animals, visitors could appreciate the landmarks in the village that the inhabitants were very proud of and that would arouse nostalgic memories in other years.

33 Rum Lane

The races that settled the eastern counties of Nova Scotia were a hardy lot of people, not least of whom were the Highland Scots who settled Antigonish County and they passed along to their descendants the stamina to succeed at any cost. Life of leisure was not their choice. Nourishment they must have and stimulants too. The very nature of Nova Scotia climate and its proximity to the sea demanded a stimulant to challenge the elements and so they discovered rum as a pure and invigorating liquor or beverage to be a worthy choice for Scots. As a convenience in a market town one area is frequently assigned for the dispensing of alcohol drinks. In Antigo­ nish such an area was found in the center of Main Street or a short street thereof. For need of a better designation RUM LANE was awarded the honor.

When in 1971 the City Fathers purchased the former post office building on Main Street many a local wag said that the authorities were never happy to have the 'seat of government' on Rum Lane. More spacious quar­ ters was a lame excuse, many averred. To inform a visitor that the headquarters of the civic administration was on Sydney Street would not be very informative, since practically nobody in the town was aware that this partic­ ular thoroughfare had once been named after a Governor- General of Canada. Of course, most folks knew that Antigonish had once been named Sydney County, but since f863 the citizens had no desire to have the honor to a distinguished representative of the Crown erased from the place-names of the village. Neither were they prepared to consign Rum Lane to a limbo of bygone delights. So it is that while the popular link between Main and St. Marys Street is always referred to as Sydney Street in- sophisticated parlor company and on official documents, the general public still prefers the designation Rum Lane for the very good reason that while saloons and

34 taverns were probably located there in pioneer days, there is also a likelihood that not a few sons of clanranald, who emigrated from the Isle of Rhum on the western coast of Scotland, frequented the lane and so who would blame them for conferring a nostalgic name on the rendez-vous in the village of Antigonish. In any event whatever may have been the origin of Rum Lane, there is no longer any stigma attached to the urban area of the cathedral town where the elected Council had chosen to eventually establish their admin­ istrative office. Insofar as the alcohol beverage asso­ ciated with the lane is concerned there are yet those who do not distinguish between beverages and stimulants, but there is little doubt that climatic conditions and the austerity of pioneer life dictated the choice of the strong­ er drink which racial traits, religious scruples nor social rank made any distinction. The day of the saloon has passed but the stigma of yesteryear which smeared the lowly bar has been trans­ ferred to the modern tavern by those who prefer the social graces of the cocktail lounge. After all, who this day exchanges Rum Lane for a Champagne Avenue, merely for the privilege of being counted among the elite. . .

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35 LANDMARKS

Just forty years after a friend of mine said farewell to the old home town he returned for a brief summer visit as a now prosperous tourist. During his two-week stay in Antigonish he never tired of referring to the changes that had taken place on Main Street since he was a boy. Of course the business establishments of pioneer days had all but disappeared and now at night neon lights blazed above the entrances where once homely nameplates introduced the public to the proprietor of and the commodities for sale in each building along the street. He would remark on the urban-like crosswalks and the traffic lights that had lately been installed by the local authorities to prevent possible accidents to pedest­ rians although not unlike busy cities there were jay­ walkers who casually broke the law. Then the ex­ patriate would remark, "But what happened to the band­ stand, the penny candy stores and the old town clock?" To be sure my friend knew the answer to the quest­ ion he asked but for a long time after the tourist season had passed I was still pondering on the landmarks of Main Street that could not be erased from my memory.

36 The Bandstand

The location of Antigonish Town Hall at the corner of Main and College Streets was the original site of St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish. The town was then not incorporated and there was no rigid building code in force, for which reason the college building stood a considerable distance beyond the sidewalk. Some time later when the University erected a new building on the West Street campus the vacant building was leased to the municipality to be used as a school under the Education Act of f 864. The area between sidewalk and school was vacant and remained as public property. This was the period in the history of Antigonish when all the citizens were community-minded and when everyone shared in the talents of their neighbors — and incidentally a time when there was an unlimited degree of culture in most families. It was two or three genera­ tions before the cinema, stereo records, radio and tele­ vision entertainment appeared in the homes. Indeed from the earliest days the descendants of soldier veterans, who were accustomed to martial music, and the Celts, who recognized the bagpipes and fiddle as secondary only to the Rosary at the Christian fireside, were musically in­ clined. There was no dearth of volunteers to compose creditable brass or pipe bands in Antigonish, and Antigo­ nish was not slow in organizing this talent and to con­ tribute towards the entertainment of the community. On the spacious square at the corner lot at the en­ trance to the school the citizens of Antigonish erected a fine bandstand comparable to the specifications of those in most larger centers. To the unitiated its design was not unlike "Prince's Lodge" that the Duke of Kent built in Bedford Basin to entertain Madame Saint-Laurent. It could accommodate twenty or more bandsmen in stand­ ing or seated positions and its acoustic properties were perfect.

To the eager audiences who assembled for the eve-

37 ning and holiday concerts, no less the youths who made the center their evening rendez-vous at band practice, the knowledge of musical instruments became a hobby. In no other manner might the unlearned distinguish be­ tween a clarinet and trombone or a bass and kettle drum and before long there were 'band gangs' ol youths on most streets in Antigonish with tin pails and iron buckets emulating the parts of their favorite bandsmen: Rod or Jim "the Painter", Bill Turnbull, Alex McKinnon, Angus or Hugh Chisholm, Murray Taylor, Charlie "Mac", Norm Cunningham, Adam Mahoney — all musicians worthy of imitation. It was a good band and an unselfish one. They played from the bandstand to audiences of girls in dresses of organdy and lace, to grandmothers in bonnet and shawl, to young gallants who practiced lilting waltzes for forth­ coming balls, and to youths whose blood seems always to stir when military pieces are rendered. Ah! at last time intervened and the Federal Department of Public Works required a site for a 'brand new Post Office'. The bandstand was moved up a way to the West End of Main Street School, near the present Choir School. There it remained until age, which plays its pranks on animate and inanimate creation alike, took its toll. However it is safe enough to suspect that though one be a devotee of the theatre or concert hall, he cannot deny that: "Somehow no other music Ever seemed so grand As the music in a hometown park Played by a hometown band."

38 The Penny Candy Store

I recall a verse that began "Walking down a city street I sometimes stop to gaze At a shop, filled with exquisite candy Displayed on neat little trays."

These lines do not express a unique experience even in a small college town. Living in a period of high pressure salesmanship every show window exhibiting merchandise is an invitation to passers-by to share in the temptation to possess the goods for sale within. Most natives of the shiretown boast of the time that they visited or were employed in Boston. Others less fortunate are content to relate tales of the Hub City as relayed to them by next-of-kin who return periodically to spend summer vacations with their kinfolk. From these sources there have developed lines of communication that make Jordan-and-Marsh or Filene's department stores on Washington Street as familiar locally as Goodman's on Main Street to-day or that of McCurdy's two or three generations ago. Ah! but there are stores AND stores, shops AND shops, each exclusive in the commodities it sells and the patronage it enjoys. It is by reason of these distinctions that the memory of these little ten by twelve shops that once catered to the sweet tooth of children of the village has not been lost by all than those sentimental souls who revel in the delights of by-gone days. "Show us the tree that the sugar comes from," entreated the first Scots to settle the eastern counties who had been told of the maples that yielded syrup. Sugar and molasses were of a later delicacy and preluded solid sweets sold under the trade name of "Candies". But not many years passed before the popularity of syrup was supplanted by the peppermint sticks and molasses 'kisses', thereby creating such a demand on the part of the youth of the countryside that not a few kindly folk

39 opened small shops affectionately called "Penny-Candyy/ Stores". The proprietors of the Penny Candy Stores had noo > need to advertise their wares for loyal customers trod aa t path to their door, disregarding the sun-faded animal rock: candy and fly-specked lollipops displayed in the little shop window. A tiny bell hanging on a spring above the door announced another customer. Since Penny Candy shops usually stocked home-made spruce and root beers, bartering with 'empties' and sweets was a convenient medium of exchange particularly since copper coins, commonly reserved for Sunday church collections, were at a premium in frugal families. The enticing aroma from the open boxes on the shelves made one's choice a difficult one. However since most boys favored a variety of confectionery, except for the older ones who boastfully insisted on licorice whips to emulate the 'Pictou Twist' chewing tobacco of their elders, the choice was ample. There were jelly beans and gum drops (puppy love bait); jawbreakers and policeman hats to torment teacher in school; hunky-dory bars and maple squares adaptable for sharing; peppermint canes, ribbon and conventional candy for mothers and Aunt Kate; lozingers for grandma; gum and sen-sen to disguise the obvious sin. Ah, me! Yes, I sometimes walk down a city street in search of a Penny-Candy Shop and I see windows aglow with bonbons and chocolates galore and it is then that "Wishfully I think how gladly I'd give fifty dollars or more To recapture once more the rapture For an hour in that old Candy Store!"

40 The Old Town Clock

There is something sanctifying about casting one's eyes heavenward. The sky spreads its deep blue canopy for our admiration and invites us to penetrate its depths .md its mysteries. The billowy white clouds sail majestical­ ly through the fathomless expanse from one horizon to the next. Church architects build their cathedrals with spires piercing the great dome in attitudes of prayer. National flags, symbols of civic authority, fly on mast­ heads over the tallest sky-scrapers as mindful of the virtue of patriotism. And so the humble clock, product of man's ingenuity, measuring the passing of time, is allotted its niche as a reminder of the preciousness of the moment. Alas, another day has dawned and the convenience of a timepiece on the wrist has perhaps more mundane advan­ tages than periodic skyward glances. Long before the town of Antigonish had the benefit of a clock in the public square the builders of St. James Presbyterian church caused to have the face of a clock painted high up on its spire. The hands were fixed at the hour of 11 o'clock, the time when the faithful assembled for Sunday morning devotions. It served two purposes, both of which had a common theme: the value of time and the hour for prayer. Then in the year 1906 the federal government erected its new brick Post Office on Main Street and in the turret of the south east corner there was placed our Town Clock. More than sixty years have come and gone with the Post Office clock ticking off the minutes and hours. Sixty plus years! The normal span of life for the average mortal. There it has stood with its four white faces the target of spectators and scoffers. Foot-long hands crept furtively across its face that shoppers and passers-by might synchronize their watches and remind young lads and lasses that the trysting hour at the intersection rendez-vous was at hand.

Then one day in 1968 the hands of the old Post Of-

41 lice Clock stood still at twenty minutes past live. No­ body seemed to remember il the death throes passed in the morning hours or in the alternoon because it is said that there was a blizzard raging. Since crystals were never included in the construction to protect the faces against the elements, gusts of snow and ice clogged the mechan­ ism. Not one of all its friends volunteered to come to its aid and so the end came. It was the time of change with miniskirts and bearded juvenile fads. Why not a modern Post Office? In any event with only face and hands — less eyes and ears — the Post Office Clock did get the message that a new Post Office was in the books — a Spanish hacienda style edifice — with the result that the caretaker of the public building heard a voice saying "Wind me no more, I am sick at heart." It was then that the old Post Office Clock stopped short 'never to go again' like its Grandfather cousin did years and years ago. Now I walk up the sidewalks on south side Main Street. There are friends of yore resting their weary limbs on the sidewalk benches. Stealthily 1 glance to the turret and am ashamed. I think of Joseph Howe's NOVA SCO- TfAN and the unknown author who in f 836 wrote of his friend on the Citadel Hill: "Thou grave old Time Piece, many a time and oft I've been your debtor for the time of day; And every time I cast my eyes aloft And swell the debt — I think 'tis time to pay."

42 The Sprinkling Carl

I am certain that when Joe Snake, the popular Mic­ mac scout, blazed through "Indian Gardens" the trail that is Main Street today, he would be the last creature to be convinced that anything than grass would ever be under foot. Well, one hundred and fifty years later there was no longer grass where the trail ran because the town admin­ istration saw to it that the streets of Antigonish would be paved, if not by gold, at least with asphalt or con­ crete. Nevertheless there was a period when the residents of the town had to be satisfied with a good surface of gravel which obviously would turn to dust during the hot summer months. It was not long before the citizens and particularly the merchants on Main Street began to complain of the dust menace, indeed before housewives urged their elected representatives to do something about the nuisance. Ap­ parently nobody at the moment thought about salt as a dust-layer although there were ample quantities in the neighborhood. However now that water was conveyed to the town from the Clydesdale reservoirs and since fire hydrants were conveniently at the corner of each city block the natural solution to the perennial annoyance was to spray streams of water on the Main Street to lay the offending dust. Practical members of the local Council undertook the construction of a large wooden cylindrical tank ca­ pable of containing 600 gallons of water. The vessel was placed horizontally on a cradle resting between the front and rear axles of a horse-drawn vehicle. On the lowest part of the stern of the tank there was a rotating disc. Seated above, the operator directed the team of horses with one hand and with the other hand he controlled an impro­ vised brake. With one free foot he parcelled out the amount of water each section deserved. To the best of my knowledge there was never more than the first operator of the town's Sprinkling Cart. He

43 was a powerfully-built Cape Breton Scot whose black stubby beard belied his three score and ten years. No sooner had Rod McLean connected the long tank hose to the West End fire hydrant, than the children of the neigh­ borhood, measuring by sound every gallon of water that filled the tank, waited expectantly. They admired every move of the operator until tit hist he heaved the fifteen feet of wet hose to its proper place atop the tank. Then McLean took his place on the spring-iron seat some eight feet above the dusty street. The familiar "PutlPut!" utterance and the inverted bowl of his tobacco pipe were the signal for a score or more bareloot boys (and some tom-boy girls) to dash into the spray from the whirling disc. Rarely did the antics of the noisy urchins disturb the mood ol the dour operator, but we did have the im­ pression that Rod McLean, on his throne on the sprink­ ling barrel, was far more considerate ol horses than cars approaching his spuming vehicle. For the oncoming steeds he would press the lever with his foot to momentarily check the spray of water to allow them to pass, but for fancy automobiles and their drivers, whose horns an­ noyed him madly, he would give an extra blast ol cold mountain water.

How times have changed and the personalities that were part of them. Main Street is now, of course, a paved highway — no grass, no gravel, no cinders. Other thor­ oughfares of Antigonish are equally 'blessed' although 'tis said that there still exist subdivisions sans pavement, sans dust-layers, sans water sprayers with oodles of child­ ren who never knew the joys of dashing barefooted be­ tween showers of cool water from a Sprinkling Cart on a hot summer day. And speaking ol personalities I often speculate on what Rod McLean might do if he laid his hands on the discourteous drivers of modern automo­ biles who revel in speeding through a rain drenched street for the sheer devilry of spattering elderly folks near their path.

44 Ah, Sprinkling Carts, what joy they conferred on carefree youth and what memories they evoke among the dreams of the old home town!

The Ducking Hole

The current strife between Israel and her Arab neigh­ bors cannot help reminding us of the part that the River Jordan has played in the history of Christianity. High up on the Palestine mountains the River Jordan has its source in the many springs that are fed by winter snows. Save for the first ten miles of fast descent it meanders quietly through the Valley of Ghor for one hundred and eighty miles until it reaches the Dead Sea thirteen hun­ dred feet below the level of the Mediterranean. Except in spring floods the depth of the river is never more than three feet. It was across the Jordan that Joshua led the Israelites to the Promised Land and it was at a pool in the same river that John baptized Jesus.

To some people it might appear a sacrilege to com­ pare the River Jordan of the Holy Land to the Brierly Brook which flows through the town of Antigonish towards the harbor, but at least these rivers have one common denominator other than their physical features. Brierly Brook is little more than a stream and like its companion streams has its source in the foothills of Browns Mountain at the west of the County. It winds its tranquil way through wood lots and farm intervals until it reaches Braemar subdivision, thence follows a straight course until it reaches the south bank of the Whidden property. This first obstacle forces the water to make a right-angle turn, thereby creating a pool of considerable width and depth. The trees and shrubbery around the pool made it an ideal spot for boys of the West End to swim in the nude, not unlike the 'old swimming hole' created by Mark Twain

45 for Tom Sawyer. There was yet another pool farther upstream, which the boys named 'The Night Pasture' because cattle grazed there after evening milking. Never­ theless it held only second place to 'The Ducking Hole' which had for many years previously been the site of one of the town religious denominations to conduct their baptism ceremonies. However had the River Jordan been in Antigonish, and not the Brierly Brook, it is certain that the carefree youth of the town would have treated it no less sacrilegiously.

In a community rich in the Christian tradition it is scarcely necessary to refer to the fact that from the earli­ est days baptism had been the first requirement for ad­ mission into the Church of Christ. In the Scriptures (Matt.) we read the directive of Jesus to his Apostles, "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit." Twenty centuries have almost passed since John the Baptist preached the message of repentance and clean­ sing from sin. Although discords of a variety of hues may have shaken Christendom the waters of baptism re­ main as one uniting principle of Christian creeds.

The Baptist Congregation, which in the year 1638 had its origin in England as an off-shoot of the Reforma­ tion, was established in America (Providence, R. I.) one year later. But not until 1763 was there'a congregation in Nova Scotia. Then, just sixty years later Rev. David Nutter gathered together a nucleus of seven men and women to found the first Baptist Church in Antigonish.

Among the doctrines of Baptist belief was that of 'repentance by immersion', applicable chiefly to adults more than to infants. When in due time baptism by aspersion, as practiced by other Christian denominations, was adopted the waters of the Brierly Brook pool no longer served for the-religious ritual originally established by the first pastor in Antigonish.

46 Before many years had gone the spiritual attachment of the pool was forgotten to later generations and it was then that the youth of the West End of the town took possession of it by 'Squatters Rights' in a manner of speaking, but they christened their little swimming re­ treat "THE DUCKING HOLE".

47 5

CHURCHES AND SCHOOLS

It is said that following the discovery of the New World, when European nations contended for the mastery of the American continent the cross and sword were, if not allies, then at least sometime collaborators. First it was France that lay claim to Nova Scotia, during which period one condition imposed by French kings on adven­ turers who were granted charters in the new territories, was that missionaries be included in every Company that established in the Province. Then as the true worth of the claimed land became realized forts and habitations were founded along the coast and armed forces were commanded to man them. So clergy, as chaplains in re­ cent times, were stationed with each garrison to provide spiritual consolation for the troops and their families who lived in settlements nearby. From such beginnings chur­ ches and cathedrals arose. After France lost possession of its territory in the New World Anglo-Saxons and returning Acadian exiles settled Nova Scotia. Not least of the new arrivals were the Highland Scots who settled Antigonish. No effort was spared by the unhappy emigrants to find a priest or minister and a schoolmaster among the passengers of every ship crossing the Atlantic. The provision for a church and a school was the sine qua non of Scottish pioneers. From this desire and necessity sprang the schools and churches in the County of Antigonish and eventually a University and a Cathedral within the bound­ aries of the shiretown.

48 Cathedral Art

The casual visitor to Antigonish or the summer tour­ ist who chooses to rest awhile in the atmosphere of this university town will observe a large stone edifice adjacent to the campus with its twin towers pointing heavenwards. He is aware that here is a fine specimen of Romanesque architecture, in fact to connoisseurs of art it is one of the finest examples of this type in Canada. That this is a place of worship is confirmed by the two gilt words 'Tigh Dhe' on the facade above the entrance. The message is Gaelic and means House of God. Within the Cathedral of St. Ninian's there are three aisles separated by massive pillars supporting the roof. The edifice was begun in i867 and completed in 1874 with the exception of the interior decoration which was not completed until 1903. These paintings are on the ceiling of the sanctuary and aisles, and on the side walls of the church. The large painting on the vaulted ceiling of the sanctuary shows God, the Creator, seated on a great cloud with administering angels gazing on the Beati­ fic Vision and with other spiritual figures in various acts of adoration to Him. Guarding the sanctuary an angel over each pillar holds a tablet of stone containing the Law and separated by a scroll on which one again reads 'Tigh Dhe' to remind worshippers that God is found within these walls. On the ceiling of the central aisle there are four large paintings, three of which represent as many mysteries of the Christ- tian religion — The Nativity, The Crucifixion and The Ascension of Christ. The fourth painting in this group depicts Jesus as the Good Shepherd of mankind. Above each pillar of the central aisle one notices the paintings of the disciples of Christ and the equilateral triangle, centered by an all-seeing eye, symbolises the equality of the Trinity — Father, Son and Holy Spirit. On the east and west aisles there are portrayed emblems suggesting the Christian virtues. The large Stations of

49 the" Cross between consecutive stained windows are to remind worshippers of the Passion and Death of Christ. The beautiful tableau hanging over the confessional at the west aisle consists of seven figures, centered around St. Ninian the patron saint of the parish in his Highland tartan robes and holding a crucifix as he preaches. Among the listeners are a Highland chieftain in kilted garb and his Lady who holds an infant in her arms. Nearby are two other 'ladies-in-waiting' and a servant, referred to as a 'gillie dubh'. The inference is that through Christianity the servant, the slave was freed and therefore the Gospel places him as equal to his master in the eyes of God. This exquisite painting is the work of Italian artist, Ap- polonio, who was commissioned in Rome in 1856 to execute this tableau for St. Ninian's Cathedral while as yet the seat of the Diocese was at Arichat. Above the confessional of the east aisle is a painting of more recent origin and it represents Our Lady of Fati- ma as she appeared to the pious children. The Last Supper group above the altar in the sanctuary is the product of liturgical alterations as part of interior redecorations. Otherwise the artistry of St. Ninian's Cathedral has re­ mained as it was in f 903. The contract for erecting St. Ninian's Cathedral was awarded to Irish Sylvester O'Donahoe. The average per­ son knows little about the delicate construction of a building as that which confronted O'Donahoe at that period. It was a stone structure, the material came from the quarries at Brierly Brook and North Grant, both districts being part of the parish. The dimensions were: f 70 feet in length, 70 wide and 175 feet high. The farmer- parishioners voluntarily transported the massive stone blocks by oxen and horse teams, while local stone ma­ sons laid block upon block until the structure reached the belfries as specified. The costs were growing to such a.rate that Scottish Bishop McKinnon instructed O'Dona­ hoe to eliminate certain aspects of the specifications, allowing however as a tribute to the nationality of the

50 contractor, that the chimes that would rest in the west belfry should be cast in Dublin, Ireland. However with­ out the knowledge of Bishop McKinnon and the Rector, O'Donahoe inserted in a granite slab between two thistles a shamrock, thereby enjoying his little joke at the ex­ pense of the Scottish prelate.

Church Bells

In a period of history when the term ecumenical is brandished about and when to many individuals the only visible sign of Christian unity is the symbol of the Cross, the dignity that the bell in church belfries once enjoyed has been almost forgotten. Wait! Has it been? Sunday morning breaks with a cloudless sky over one of the sprawling modern cities of the Canadian West and for the first hours of the day a great silence soothes the sleeping populace. Then amid the tranquillity of the scene a distant bell somewhere in the fringes of Jasper Avenue awakens from their slumber the early risers. Thereafter in intervals of half to one hour neighboring bells in the great city call worshippers to prayer. Far down on the east coast where the Atlantic surf washes the Maritime shores, where farm and fisherfolk end a night of well-earned repose, the lone bell in a little white mission church on the hill sends out its message along the valleys and re-echoes from the mountain sides, much as does a massive bell within the belfry of St. Ninian's. To the Christian the sound of church bells is sweet music to the ear whether it be for Sabbath service or the daily message of the 'Angelus'. Thus from the humblest chapels of the Missions to the great cathedrals across the world, one finds the church bells a common denominator for the faithful of all Christian beliefs. The bell has been associated with Christian worship as early as the 4th

51 century in continental Europe and from the 7th century in Britain.

That there exists a kinship between bell and prayer there is the legend that one day in 1869 Jean Francois Millet paused on a roadway to observe a group of French peasants engaged in harvesting their crops in the field. Just beyond was the village of the district with the spire of the small church pointing heavenward. Suddenly the laborers momentarily interrupted their toil, bowing their heads in prayer as across the landscape there pealed forth in measured cadence from the spires beyond the'prayer of the Annunciation.

Millet set up his easel and with colors and canvas sketched the first strokes of his immortal masterpiece, The Angelus. This priceless painting today hangs in the gallery of the Louvre in Paris, France, permitting the eyes of admiring visitors to read emotions that only the brush of the artist reveals where the ear fails.

Perhaps nowhere in the world does one find so many and so architecturally perfect edifices of worship as are found in the old city of London where Sir Christopher Wren designed his churches for the greater glory of God and the pre-eminence of England. Seeing the spires reach up into the sky and the enormous towers housing the bells ol the churches, then one recognizes their signifi­ cance in the institutions of religious worship. Yet, while the idea of worship presupposes the Divine, there is nothing redundant about projecting the Christian virtue into the realm of human sentiment by allowing the bells ol one humble but historic church the honor of being associated with the beautiful song:

"The bells of St. Mary's I hear they are calling The young ones, the true ones Who come from the sea.

52 And O my beloved When red leaves are falling The love bells ring out For you and for me." Nor does it appear strange that these touching lines and music should place their theme in the bells of a church dedicated to the Mother of the Fountainhead of Christianity. When the bells from Christian places of worship cease to ring, man will have lost the grace to look up turd to accept the efficacy of prayer.

Pew Holding

Although church contributors search in vain for an envelope marked PEW RENT in their Sunday Offering package they must not draw the conclusion that its dele­ tion has anything to do with ecumenism. It merely in­ dicates that another old tradition has been broken and the very departure from tradition sometimes prompts nostalgia albeit the trifling matter of Pew Rent. Inasmuch as 'rent' means a portion of something 'broken off it probably originated with the feudal system of early England when tenants were compelled to share a part of the products of the land with the lord of the estate. However with the passing of feudalism the term landlord or owner of a house or property stuck and so 'rent' has come to mean the income the landlord receives from his tenant for the use of property. But Pew Rent is quite a different matter although the idea of 'rent' to produce church revenue seems to have been borrowed from the commercial venture. The fact that PEW HOLDING was a common factor with all religious denominations in pioneer days would indicate that the practice was a common one in the Old Land. Here in Antigonish and throughout the eastern counties of the Province funds to erect churches did not

53 come easily and therefore, rather than be forced to apply annual assessments, other avenues of income had to be found. This situation likewise applied to the settlements of New England where many British made their homes. The first reference to Pew Holding in Antigonish County concerns Col. Timothy Hierlihy who is credited with the founding of the village in 1784. He was an adherent of the Church of England and was married in Christ Church at Middletown, Conn., where it is recorded that 'he became a Pew Holder and was definitely asso­ ciated with the Established Church' (C of E). Then later after the war of the colonies ended all Loyalists who had lost property were informed that they would be reim­ bursed by the British Government. Col. Hierlihy then in Antigonish made a claim for a sum of $45,000 but the Commission awarded him only $2,500 which 'included $50.00 for his pew in Christ Church". The first church in Antigonish was erected by the Presbyterian communion, the number of which was small and funds in scarce supply. Pew Holding was adopted but records do not indicate when the policy ended although there is evidence that in 1862 one, Alex Grant (Miller), purchased a share in one pew thereby suggesting that the congregation had grown such that there were more famil­ ies than pews. St. Ninian's Cathedral was completed (except for interior decoration) in i874. In spite of the free labor contributed there still remained a large debt. Pew Holding was also resorted to in this instance, as it had been by most Catholic parishes in the Diocese. Naturally with wardens and elders one would expect to find as many policies of disposing of pews as there were members on the board with the result that in one church there would be a lottery for choice of pews, in another an auction and in some few an outright sale. One observation should be permissible, namely that the Christian worshippers are also human beings with all the ills that mortal man is heir to. So one could find

54 those who preferred a front pew, particularly useful at Easter time when one bonnet may be more elegant than another or where proximity to the pulpit indicated pres­ tige. There are others whose families were large, so large that they required a long pew. More, there were those who preferred the rear where they might arrive late, leave before Offerings are taken or have a snooze if and when a sermon is long or dreary. Now that Pew Holding has gone the way of so many pioneer practices credit must be allowed those sagacious priests and ministers who advised church architects against incorporating 'royal boxes' and 'bleachers' in the erection of places of worship in our communities. It is the end of another era. There are not a few congregations that place the appointment of their parsons in the same category as pew-holding but, while it is generally held that there would be precious little to sustain a Christian religion if it only depended on the worshippers' assessment as spirit­ ual leaders of the flock yet too frequently his qualifica­ tions are measured by the eloquence ol his sermons. The churches of Antigonish differ little from their counterparts elsewhere insofar as the choice ol pastors is concerned. Locally the policy is in the case ol Anglican and Catholic denominations that the appointment is made by episcopal directive whereas for most Protestant persuasions the elders of the church issue a call to fill the vacancy. Despite the fact that most 'church-goers' appreciate eloquence in the pulpit as well as well-thought scriptural homilies, it is nevertheless the prerogative for congrega­ tions to place sermons, particularly lengthy ones, as the less important expressions of religious worship.

55 The Little Red School

Long years ago before there was a Free School Act in Nova Scotia a German educator said, "I promised God that I would look upon every Prussian peasant child as a being who could complain of me before God if I did not provide for him the best education as a man and a Christian, which it was possible for me to provide." ft might well be that the great Bismark was the result of this pledge. Since that day when so sacred a promise was volun­ tarily given, educators in various degrees of humility have sought to provide the children of the countryside with not only a balanced academic diet, but they have further­ more striven to make school buildings agreeable places wherein health and vigor of body would be associated with mental development. Nowhere from the earliest days of settlement in Antigonish has this objective been greater appreciated than by way of 'The Little Red Schoolhouse'. The one-room school is no more in Antigonish. It has disappeared from the scene as quietly as had its log- cabin predecessor which cultivated such a thirst lor education that from its foundation there would one day arise a university of international repute. Seventy-two similar rural schools followed in the path of that first log building. But the goal of just a college did not suffice . those who created the dream, nor did the youth of the land measure learning by the standards of worldly treasures and prestige. The advent of consolidated districts, bus transporta­ tion, graded schools, well ventilated, lighted and heated rooms, modern sanitary facilities, gymnasia, scientific apparatus, play-ground equipment, color illustrated text­ books and TV programs were the natural courses of de­ velopment for educational systems. Nevertheless without denying contemporary youth the opportunities and the

56 cultural advantages which modern progressive schools offered, their elders dwell nostalgically on the happy days passed in 'The Little Red Schoolhouse'. How the memories of the leaky ceiling, those crowd­ ed uncomfortable desks, the overheated wood-stove, the cross-lighted windows, the old drinking pail with its'lone tin mug, the faded maps and chalkboards, the one- compartment privy and the second hand text-books, crowd in upon one to revive little incidents that made an indelible impression on scholars in later years. How each of these then insignificant obstacles became milestones that marked the path to richer maturity! Not least of all these memories was the long, some­ times lonely walk between home and school, distances that contributed fitting occasions to talk aloud to oneself or to encounter in fantasy a painted savage or a Robin Hood along the way; aye and to assume the personality of the bold Lancelot rescuing from a dreadful dragon the fair blonde classmate who sat across the classroom aisle. To have been denied the privilege of attending 'The Little Red Schoolhouse' seems to some that along the way a missing link rendered incomplete the chain of learning. To have shared in such a legacy as a child and teacher is a rich inheritance that even the sentimental lines appear inadequate: 'A concrete highway now leads to the school; I have paused there but in vain, I looked for the trail that led through the woods, I never could find it again.' Like the trail through the woods, 'The Little Red Schoolhouse' is also gone but not forgotten.

•. U

57 Main Street School

For the privilege of attending the famous schools of Eton and Harrow any English lad would have bartered his very soul and yet the youth of Antigonish would never have exchanged their scholastic sojourn at the Old Main Street School for the smartest seat of learning in all England. The school is no more and only a busy Texaco Service Station marks the spot where the last institution of that name stood. The Old Main Street School was not the first in the town by any means but once its doors were opened for the boys of the community all other schools were forgotten except by researchers in local archives. Prior to the passing of the Nova Scotia Free School Act in 1864 schools were either private or so-called 'sub­ scriber' schools, some of which received token support from the Colonial Government. The first school in the village was conducted in 1815 by Rev. C. W. Weeks, resident Anglican pastor of Guysboro and missionary to Anglicans for the children of the Hierlihys of his congre­ gation there. Subsequently there was the school presided over by Rev. Thomas Trotter, the second parson of St. James Presbyterian Church. Then in f874 when St. Ninian's Cathedral was opened for worship the vacated wooden structure on Main Street was converted into a school for boys and thereon rests its reputation as a senti­ mental, if not a scholastic, institution.

Next to the spiritual aroma which Main Street School inherited from other ministrations, the personnel of the staff lingers in the memory of each alumnus — qualified very well to prove to the scholars that 'a little learning is a dangerous thing', if not by the books then certainly by the 'switch'. The curriculum was a strange word in the days of the Main Street School (as it remains today). Consistent with the simplicity of life at that period, learning consisted oi lessons from the Royal Readers, mathematics from the backs of scribblers with

58 individual calculations on a slate well lubricated with spittle and elbow grease. There was a monthly periodical — The School and Home — to which each pupil subscribed and it was the only competitor to THE CASKET and THE FAMILY HERALD for parents' consumption. Naturally this was an era when there was no place for 'gentle' discipline. Loud talk and inattention usually rated recess and after-school detention or writing legibly 100 times "I was a bad boy today". For the more serious misdemeanors of fighting and truancy there was the hickory stick — the precursor of the legalized rubber strap which opened the gates for persuasion of psycholo­ gists as a more humane remedy for incorrigibility. As for the scholars, their preference to make amends for wrong­ doing was 'prayerful meditation' among the headstones of the cemetery to the rear of the school but the choice was not theirs. At a time when the public is so concerned about pollution and sanitation, to reminisce on the hygienic accessories of the Main Street School is a conceit per­ mitted only to the youth of 50-and-more years ago. Since in f 892 a water system was added to town facilities, the Main Street School rated a faucet, bucket and tin cup. However the optimum in sanitation ended at the water pail for the 30-foot privy was a pioneer museum piece. Located between school and burial ground the privy was constructed to accommodate a dozen scholars at a time but being devoid of cubicles it was not conducive for academic meditation or for composing such rhymes as sometimes decorated the walls of these buildings. Well the Main Street School is gone and few gradu­ ates of the institution remain to rejoice in the lessons taught and associations made within its walls.

59 Wild Geese on Parade

Come Autumn and Spring each year the residents of Antigonish were accustomed to the loud clamor of mi­ grating flocks of America's favorite game bird wending their way towards the fresh water inlets of 'The Harbor' and St. George's Bay, en route to their nesting grounds by the Arctic wastes or to their winter sojourn in the south. Long before the white man came to Acadia, this great bird provided the Micmac with his choice diet and when the first settlers made their homes along our shores, the nocturnal passage of this waterfowl's measured 'honking' was so disturbing to human slumber that pioneers kin­ dled a hundred fires to ward off the transient birds. Nevertheless there was in the clamor of the geese an enchanting melody that made it the theme of poets everywhere and an amusing allusion for local scoffers in the shiretown. Let it be said that the 'honking' of geese was not their only claim to dignity. With grey-brown coat and immaculately white breast beneath head and neck of ebony black, here was a specimen to match the most embellished mannequin in a Fifth Avenue showplace. Only the sleek modern combat plane in the blue sky rivalled the V-formation of geese in flight, so vividly de­ picted by one observant Chinese: "How oft against the sunset sky or moon I watched that moving zigzag spread of wings, In unforgotten Autumns gone too soon, in unforgotten Springs." The seasonal passing of the Canada goose over Anti­ gonish soon became no more exciting to the residents of the Town than the perennial return of swallows to Capis- trano on the Feast of St. Joseph. Still as a reminder to local townsfolk that there was more to wild geese than meets the eye, one phase of higher education for women, that hitherto had gone unobserved, gradually gained im­ pious prominence. Be it remembered that some thirty

60 years after St. Francis Xavier's University was founded to train men for the church and the professions, Mount St. Bernard's Ladies College opened its doors under the competent direction of the Religious Order of the Con­ gregation of Notre Dame. As the Rector of the University insisted that the students keep their noses to the scholastic grindstone so did the Mother Superior insist that the Mount girls in residence divorce affairs of the heart from the goal of intellectual attainments. As a result, the Mount was 'out of bounds' for X-Students and there were no late-leave privileges. But there was one concession: on Sundays and holidays the Mistress of Discipline conducted the 50-odd 'Boarders' on routine walks as a reward for good beha­ viour, along the gravel sidewalks of Antigonish ostensibly for a breath of fresh air but subtly to allow the girls an opportunity for a wink if not a word, at loitering male students at vantage points. So first along Main Street for a block, then College Street to St. Mary's, to Court, Church and St. Ninian's Streets back to the Mount, proceeded the girls with black- robed sisters with white coronets as rear-guards, all chattering with sonorous rhythm, like a flight of water­ fowl by night. The University students soon got the idea but the Townspeople paused to say, "Hark, the wild geese come!" Thus in Antigonish the recreational little jaunts of the ladies of the Mount became known as the Parade of Wild Geese (no harm intended) because wrote Roberts "The height of heaven grows weird and loud with unseen flight of strong hosts prophesying as they go". Although Mount St. Bernard's Academy accepted the responsibility for the educating of the girls of Anti­ gonish under the capable tutelage and discipline of the same Sisters as trained the college ladies, it was the stern schoolmasters that directed Main Street School in its early years. However the time arrived when male teachers vacated the classroom for other professions and school­ mistresses did not hesitate to fill the void. Notwithstand-

61 ing the belief that the so-called weaker sex were devoted, zealous and docile in the classroom and community, these characteristics did not preclude from among their accomplishments at the Main Street School the applica­ tion of the dictum of sparing the rod to spoil the child. How well indeed they could manage the hickory switch many an incorrigible urchin learned to his sorrow.

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62 6

SENTIMENTAL

It was evening and the elderly couple sat alone in the snug living room. Every few moments one would catch the other gazing up at the framed motto on the wall above the door and they would read prayerfully the words GOD BLESS OUR HOME. Then tears would roll down their cheeks. Theirs was a happy home with its large family, now scattered throughout the United States and other sections of Canada. Now nothing remained to the old folks but dreams, the dreams from which senti­ ment finds a place in the human heart. "This is the true nature of home," John Ruskin wrote. "It is a place of peace; the shelter not only from injury but from all terror, doubt and division. Insofar as it is not this, it is not home; sofar as the anxieties of the outer life penetrate into it and the unloved or hostile society of the outer life is allowed to cross its threshold, it ceases to be a home. But sofar as it is a sacred place, so far it vindicates its name and fulfills the praise of home." Memory Lane will endeavor to select only a few of the little dreams of yesteryear on which natives of Anti­ gonish, at home and abroad, sometimes dwell and bestir a sentimental mood.

63 Legend of a Hearth Stone

The world of fantasy does not belong to poet, painter and children as some would have us believe. There are times when all of us share in the privilege of being part of the make-believe-world like when "I see the shadows prancing on The ceilings and the walls. How pleasant, oh how charming when The friendly fireplace calls." The moment my thoughts turned to my fireplace I recalled a very special one in a summer cottage on an island in Lochaber Lake. As most Highlanders are aware Lochaber in the old land is Cameron country, the lord­ ship of which was forfeited to the Crown (Jacobite) and on it the chief of the Keppochs built his ancestral castle. It was natural therefore that the topography of the land, the presence of the Cameron settlers on the lake, and the Keppoch MacDonalds on the 'ridges' above suggested that the lovely spot in Antigonish County should be named "Lochaber". The lake itself is sometimes referred to as Five-mile Lake. Midway along the paved highway and less than 150 yards from the shore one finds an island of not more than two acres in area. The rocky soil has not prevented trees of fir, pine and maple from thriving there. Since this delightful little piece of earth offered nothing to the economy of pioneers it remained in its pristine grandeur to serve the admiring traveller. So the tiny island remained untouched until 2-score years ago when a successful contractor — descendant of the Keppoch line (and better known as one of "The Ridges") whose pioneer folk farmed the marginal land overlooking the Lake, — purchased the precious gem and erected on it a summer home for his family. True the cottage had little in common with the Kep­ poch castle across the seas but no sentimental touches

64 were" omitted in the interior fittings that might not be consistent with Keppoch tradition including the function­ al fireplace at the south end of the great lounge room. In heraldry, armorial bearings were marks of identi­ fication and as such coats-of-arms became the mark of nobility. Subsidiary to arms was the crest which might be held by any personage of a clan above the rank of an esquire. So it was that a local 'Ridge' caused to be cut for the hearthstone of the fireplace a sword and hand — the legendary crest of one branch of the clan, although there are others who lay claim to the distinction. Prior to the battle of Blarleine (1544) Ronald, seventh chief of the Keppochs called together his two sons, Alexander and Ranald Og, as was customary in order to indicate to them how he wished to dispose of his estate in the event of his death on the battlefield. To Alexander he awarded the castle and the lands adjacent to it. To Ranald Og he gave the rich meadows near the lake. Thereafter piece by piece the old chief bequeathed to one and then the other smaller lots on the hills and in the valley, then alternately the less important islands in the lake. When it appeared that his heirs had received all his possessions, he discovered that there was yet another island farther from the shore that he had overlooked. So like Solomon of old the chief said, "Sons you will each take a boat to the shore and at my given signal you will row to yon island. He who places his hand first on dry land, that one shall inherit the island." Obedient to the wishes and the command of their sire, the brothers rowed with all their skill and strength of which they were well endowed. The contest seemed to be at a draw when at the final stroke of the oars, and the land but a boat length distant, one of the sons of the chief leaped from the boat and when he was about to rest his hand on the hard-won shore, his brother drew his

65 A own sword and with a mighty thrust cut off the hand of his brother. Legend does not say whether it was the sword of Ranald Og or the hand of Alexander that finds its place on the Keppoch crest but history tells us that Alexander became the eighth chief and was succeeded by Ranald Og as the ninth chief of the Keppochs of Clanranald. The elder chief was captured at Blarleine and at the command of the Earl of Huntley was executed.

Parlors to Remember

To have persuaded Grandma Gillis to lock up the old homestead for the winter months was something that none of her neighbors could understand. To live in Toronto with her son and his family would be a strange experience for her but Bill and Gen insisted and so there was nothing much to do about it. In the end she ac­ quiesced but her heart was back in the country where the winter blasts never had any fear for her. There were some aspects of urban living that ap­ pealed to Grandma Gillis although it did take considerable time to become accustomed to modern domestic gadgets and relaxation. Sometimes in the evenings, when the young couple had gone out for one of their social obliga­ tions and the children were tucked in their beds, the gracious old lady would pass the time in the well- appointed living room, admiring the wall-to-wall rugs and the expensive Victorian furniture that adorned the room. The beautiful copies of famous masterpieces that hung on the walls were a class of art she had never expected to enjoy. The radio, stereo and television sets brought the best programs of entertainment into the house. Besides anyone occupying the TV-chair did not have to stand to take in all the elegant furnishings at a glance. Grandma would test the chesterfield and the variety

66 of comfortable chairs in turn, whispering a prayer for the blessings Providence bestowed on her son: The service­ ability of the end-tables presented no problem for her but apart from the tete-a-tete convenience of the coffee table, it appeared to her as a superfluous accessory. The bridge and pole-lamps, so properly arranged, sufficed as substitute for the antique chandelier which had little practical purpose in brightening the room. When the temperature outside the home fell, the thermostat within controlled the amount of heat and humidity which her aging body demanded. What a grand room, Grandma Gillis would say to herself, but with the thought her spirit would waft back to the little parlor of the old home at Lennox. In a flash the ornate living room of her son became the parlor where Bill's earliest dreams of comfort and ambition were born. Grandma dreamed of herself back in her own easy chair near the pioneer fireplace above which the familiar mantel held the hand-carved clock that chimed the hours away. On the floor she saw the home-made scatter mats were tenderly placed — mats which the dreamer had hooked into the design she had sketched on expendable burlap sacks during the first year of marriage and after so many years she could still identify every used garment which found its way into the jute. In the center of Grandma's parlor there stood an occasional table, one of the chattels brought across the seas by the first Highland immigrants. A delicately cro­ cheted runner, a company lamp, the Holy Bible, the family album and a stereoscope graced the table setting. In one corner of the room was the organ, which the girls of the family played occasionally to entertain beaux and in the opposite corner there was the ever popular gramophone resting on a small desk containing a drawer of Thomas Edison's cylindrical records.

Above the parlor door in a gold-gild frame was the thought "HOME SWEET HOME". On other walls pic-

67 tures of ancestors, men and women preserved in the fash­ ions of their day, looked sternly at the visitors. There were a number of other choice prints including 'Currier and Ives' titles, none of which conflicted with the floral wall paper of the room. Yes, the comforts of this Toronto domicile rolled back the years as Grandma dozed in her chair, reviving the memories of her own parlor at Lennox. When at midnight Bill and Gen arrived back from their usual pleasant evening, Grandma Gillis was in deep slumber in Bill's lazyboy chair but they did not know that the tranquil smile she wore was from her dream of her Antigonish rural parlor.

The Kerosene Lamp

Every time we hear of that period of history referred to as the "Dark ages" because of the ignorance that en­ gulfed civilization for many centuries, just as frequently do we associate that era with the advent of the revival of of learning which dispelled the darkness of men's minds. So it was that before too long the tallow candle and the oil lamp had become the symbol of enlightenment by way of schools and teachers, and of libraries and books. Thus developed the genius of man, the instrument of God's creation, until at length were solved the mysteries of the stratosphere to the end man conquered the moon itself. Too bad it is that the significance of the lamp as the symbol of learning has been lost to a generation which recognizes only the legacy that electricity has brought after nightfall to those who pursue knowledge from books and those who seek mental relaxation in leisure hours. For the pioneer of Antigonish, and not a few genera­ tions of their descendants, the virtues of the old kerosene lamp, as heir to the tallow candle, has not to this very day been irrevocably consigned to a limbo of bootless relics.

68 For those who dwell in Antigonish and the surround­ ing district the day of the kerosene lamp is no myth or fairy tale. Less than one hundred years have passed since one of the churches of the town held its evening services under candlelight and St. Ninian's Cathedral was haif a century old before electric lights displaced oil lamps that hung above the pews from the window sashes. In the rural communities, a rural electrification project was begun less than two score years ago. Despite the march of progress the intervening years cannot erase the memory of the traditional oil lamp on kitchen and dining room tables or that one that held an honorable place on the mantelpiece beside the 8-day clock. Who indeed can forget the little chore of running to the general store around the corner to procure the weekly gallon of kerosene, then returning home with the entire contents intact, thanks to that potato or onion the kindly grocer rammed into the spout to guarantee his honest transaction? Who can forget mother's daily inspec­ tion of each lamp shade and her assigning to the several children the task of cleaning, with the editorial page of THE CASKET or the advertising columns of THE FAMILY HERALD, the soot of the previous evening from each chimney? And who can forget the meticulous care mother would take to make certain that each wick would be trimmed to the precise degree for maximum illumination from the burning oil? Who, too, forgets how the girls of the household sat before the boudoir mirror, thrusting curling irons into the mouth of the lamp shade for suffi­ cient heat to transform milady's tresses to the fashion to suit the occasion or how the master of the manor, having concluded his periodic bit of correspondence to his kins­ man in Boston, would dry the last lines over the function­ al chimney regardless of the scorching trade-mark the flame left on the paper? Ah! How time passes. There are mercury and arc lights on the city streets; sentinel lights in the farmyard.

69 There are lights in porches and corridors, in the living room, dining room and kitchen; in the bathroom, cloak­ room, closet and attic. But when the hearthfire is kindled it is time for meditation and so the recollections crowd in upon us and we see the friendly kerosene lamp as "We'd gather in the glow of hearthlight, To our work we'd diligently attend. While Dad would be reading the paper And Mom had some clothing to mend."

"Was there once such a day and such folks?" is sometimes heard and now too we wonder.

The Pedlar

A son of one of the early pioneers of the diocese of Antigonish writing in the leisure years of his retirement from the dedicated life of a general practitioner left the following observation: "Ever since man was cast on this rather precarious planet, the question of bread possessed him . . . His first tussles with a stern, if honest nature, were economic. lie had to swap the energies of his brawn and brain for the things he needed from the soil, the sea and forests. If he failed in his strenuous bargaining, he- died. Surpluses in food, cattle, sheep and poultry were sold for money to buy what even the best distributed resources of the farm could not procure." In short, the life of the pioneer was as simple or as complicated as that. Although pioneer settlers in the eastern counties had both brawn and brain in generous measure insofar as a self-sufficient way-of-life was concerned, it was neverthe­ less imperative that a degree of specialization be devel­ oped within the parish or district. From this common- sense idea blacksmiths, tanners, millers and carpenters evolved as competent craftsmen. Eventually certain neces­ sities of life, alien both to the aspirations of a hardy race and the climatic conditions under which they lived, de-

70 manded a degree of domestic dignity. It was at this stage of their existence that the itinerant pedlar appeared. The day of the mail order catalogue had not arrived as yet although Dr. Chase's Almanac could be found in many a home as the harbinger of Eaton's massive free volume which would serve so many useful purposes in the rural countryside. Henceforth the family Bible that had occupied the sole place of honor must now share some ol its dignity with merchandizing media; but not before the personality of the itinerant pedlar waned, for the early settlers had also associated this colorful character with the tinkers whom they had known across the seas. Everybody called him Simon the Pedlar. He must have had another name but no one inquired. Some said he was a Syrian, others that he was Jewish, more that he was a gypsy. But to the settlers it mattered little what Simon's origins were or whence he came. They merely look him for granted along with his wares and his unique philosophy of life which seemed to say:

"I cut a branch from the cherry tree and take to the road again; My stride is steady, my mind is free of Flow and Why and When. I walk where houses have open doors, where thatch bends down like a wing; Where meat is sweet, and the fire roars, and even the rafters sing; Where pine and moss lay velvet floors, and a wander­ er walks like a king." Simon was sometimes late arriving in the district kit there would be a day when curtains would be drawn aside by the folks with the hope that they might have a better look at the stranger approaching the house from beyond the distant brook. The heavy case held on the end of a sturdy cane across his shoulder and the familiar­ ity with the short-cuts between homes were the assurance that the visitor was none other than Simon the Pedlar.

71 "Failte! Simon!" they'd shout and he would always res­ pond in kind although that was the extent of his bilingual vocabulary. What Simon the Pedlar did not know of the local gossip — political or otherwise — was nobody's business or for that matter the inmost secrets of local society. It goes without saying that being able to scoop THE CASKET in rumored transfers of pastors for parishes and THE FAM­ ILY HERALD with its projected weather forecasts, were sufficient recommendations for the quality of the mer­ chandise he carried in his well organized pack. Simon the Pedlar was a topflight psychologist. His wares were chiefly inclined to the need of the female sex — practical items without too much emphasis on the latest Parisien styles. Silk stockings, exotic perfumes and jewelry belonged to a later generation but Simon was well-stocked in bonnets, shawls, gloves, combs, brooches, scented soaps and patterns. The men would have to be content with razors and shaving mugs, watch chains and timepieces, Minard's liniment and salves; never lemon extract or face lotions! Occasionally he carried miniature pictures of the Sacred Heart for Catholics and King James version of the Scriptures for Protestant customers. Simon never betrayed his political or religious bias if he had any. Well, they still remember Simon the Pedlar in the County of Antigonish in spite of mail order houses and chain store techniques. To this day after the winter snows have gone, one still hears younger folks who never laid eyes on the itinerant pedlar recite: "Whether the pathway stretch or wind, whether it rains or snow, The road cries welcome, the road is kind, a friend for all to know."

72 Almanacs

The old timers used to say that the book that they consulted most was the Family Bible, which was probably true insofar as morality and troubled consciences were concerned. However when discomfort had its origin in the body or mind they would resort to Dr. Chase's AL­ MANAC, a copy of which would be found, held by a cord, under the kitchen shelf. Next to the Bible, the CASKET and THE FAMILY HERALD (now defunct), the ALMANAC was the most trusted counsellor — that is with the exception of Mary Ann Mosey's tea-cup reading. For more than one hundred years the home that did not have the current copy of the ALMANAC was branded as an illiterate habitation, because this little manual possessed the mark of literary excellence in the community. Unlike townsfolk, the rural dwellers would have nothing to do with ouija-boards and seances or other forms of diabolical mysticisms, but tea-cup fortune tell­ ing, palmistry and sometime superstitious pastimes were part of Old Country inheritance favored principally for entertainment. To be competent to read the character of a person from the lines in his profile or in his hand, was laid to magic or education with or without a diploma, which credentials the gypsies rarely bothered a trifle.

If a native of Church Street, Monk's Head or Beech Hill, or for that matter any other district or street in Antigonish, had an ambition to be a Fortune Teller the necessary training could be found in the ALMANAC. To foretell the fortunes and adversities of the lovelorn was a personal and as a rule a gratuitous service but forecasting weather was a horse of another color. Never­ theless Dr. Chase's ALMANAC was equal to the occasion, so that whether one lived at St. Andrew's or Tracadie, or on Hawthorne Street, the common denominator pointed like the needle of a compass to the little book beneath the kitchen shelf.

73 The weather section of the ALMANAC may have been important to farmers, fishermen and travelling sales­ men, but it was to the Household Hints section that the 'missus' turned. She would religiously read, "If you are bothered by rabbits that ate your flowers this year, keep them away for good by adding a few garlic plants to your flower bed". Other ladies consulted the Horoscope col­ umn although they had not the slightest idea why the signs of the zodiac should have been in Latin when all the time the illustrations suggested the meaning. Ah, but it was the medical advice that really made the ALMANAC immortal. Whoever had not had an attack ol colic, diverticulitis, grippe, constipation or sciatica realizes how the diagnosis of bodily ailments, to say no­ thing of indicated remedies, mollified the fear of impend­ ing doom. But as our elders vouched, there were in the pantry cupboard pills (with the exception of contracept­ ives), lotions and salves to serve as panacea for all the afflictions that plagued mankind. How times have changed! There are yet homes in the countryside where the Holy Bible and Dr. Chase's AL­ MANAC hold an honored place, but now TV provides daily weather bulletins, Womens' Institutes supply7 useful Household Hints for free, astronauts have negated the signs of the zodiac, fortune telling is a lost art and even the author has become accustomed to accept the intra­ venous sedations of his physician than to depend on the cure for ailments on 'kidney-and-liver' pills stored in the cupboard, but reserving the right to subscribe to the annual copy of Dr. Chase's ALMANAC at the nominal price of ten cents.

74 GHOSTS AND KINDRED SPIRITS

The nation and race that has been deprived of the enchantment of a native folklore is a sorry people indeed, none of which necessarily admits of beliefs and supersti­ tions that had their origin in pre-christian times. Most folklore has its source in religious convictions or rites, like those accepted by the Druids when St. Columba arrived in the Highlands to christianise the pagan Picts over whom ruled King Brude I. It is Columba's biographer who relates that while the Saint was dwelling among the Pictish clans, he learned of a well which "foolish men worship as a God". The Druids shunned the well in the belief that whoever touched the water would become leprous. But Columba fearlessly approached the well, blessed the water, drank some and then bathed his feet and hands in the water. At the sight of this demonstration and the immunity he proved, his sceptics did likewise in the knowledge that the demons had been driven out of the well at the invocation of St. Columba. Thereafter gradually the impact of missionary labor found a channel by means of which Christianity was the faith embraced by the fierce people of the north. Centuries before the first settlers from the Highlands came to Nova Scotia, the missionaries had driven super­ stitious beliefs from the converts of that land. Neverthe­ less not alone the Scots, who pioneered Antigonish, but those of other nationalities likewise, have accepted by way of cultural infiltration much of the folklore attached to fairies, spirits, spooks, 'signs', apparitions and pres­ cience — of course without placing much credence in the auguries implied. The social gathering in the homes of the pioneer communities of Antigonish were referred to as ceilidhs — a sort of friendly visits by neighbors for music, dance and folklore recital. That day has gone but in its place mem-

75 ory lane undertakes to substitute for a ceilidh a recitation of some episodes in the following pages.

Forerunners Had Their Day

Long, long ago, as the story-teller used to say, well long before the invention of telephone and telegraph when kings and such important personages planned an itinerary to distant parts of their domain or to foreign lands, they dispatched a messenger in advance to arrange lodging and protocol agenda for the forthcoming arrival. Such a her­ ald was referred to as a harbinger. In a sense John the Baptist was a harbinger because he paved the way for the coming of Christ. For that matter he was foretelling the approach of an important event and it is in this applica­ tion that the term 'forerunner' is used with reference to the folklore of certain racial groups concerning occur­ rences bordering on the supernatural, somewhat similar to premonitions in that both intelligences are quite dis­ tinct from superstitious beliefs. Not least among the early pioneers in Nova Scotia who held strong beliefs in second-sight, premonitions and forerunners, were the Scots who settled Pictou and Anti­ gonish Counties and Cape Breton Island. They brought from the Highlands not only the stamina to survive in this hinterland, but likewise their culture, their language and their religious beliefs. And they also took with them the folklore that originated in their homeland centuries be­ fore St. Columba and St. Ninian brought Christianity to their shores, folklore that Norsemen and Scandinavians left behind after they were driven by the fierce Celts from the mainland and islands of the west coast of Scotland.

Of all the folklore that survived the advent of Christian missionaries among the natives, only those asso­ ciated with 'good omens' gained credence among the

76 Highlanders — while ghosts, spooks and evil spirits were gradually consigned to the oblivion of bad dreams. How­ ever second-sight, premonitions and forerunners belonged to another category perhaps by reason of the fact that they appeared to bear some kinship with so many scrip­ tural passages or prophesies associated with the Christian teaching which likewise was part of Scottish inheritance. Forerunners? Yes, mysterious and inexplicable, pos­ sibly spiritual, maybe coincidental, but not superstitious particularly when they involve individuals of learning and integrity. There is the well authenticated story of a cert­ ain Christian cleric, thoroughly Highland, humble, world- . wise and educated beyond the average divine. Following ordination he was assigned to the usual post of 'assistant'. In due time he merited a rural parish until he was eventu­ ally rewarded with another church in a predominantly Scottish community — an historical district with an ex­ ceptional record of graduates for the profession. One might call this appointment a sinecure. Being profoundly religious the new pastor demanded quietness and a spiritual atmosphere when at prayer, and so it was customary for him to retire each evening at dusk to the sanctuary of his church to say his sacred office. Then one evening, after dusk gave way to darkness and silence enveloped the inner church the pastor heard the door of the porch entrance open and slow measured steps proceed a distance of ten pews along the central aisle towards the sanctuary. There the 'intruder' stopped and though the rays from the votive lamps illuminated the area distinctly the pastor could find no person there or elsewhere in the church after the edifice was lit and searched. But what the churchman remembered from the ex­ perience of that first night was that there was something unusual about the footsteps as though made by someone with a pegleg. For two more evenings the pastor endured the strange experiences exactly as they had occurred pre­ viously. Rather than appear ridiculous to his parishioners

77 the reverend gentleman resolved not to reveal the strange happening. Then just one week later the pastor was noti­ fied that a former member of the district had died abroad and that prior to his passing indicated that he wished to be buried from the church he had attended as a youth. Upon enquiring from the church authorities more about the deceased it was learned that indeed the gentleman did belong to the parish, that indeed descendants of the ancestral family retained the same pew in the church that their elders held from the time of the building of the edifice. Following the funeral what was further disturbing to the now unnerved pastor was the fact that the gentle­ man he had buried had as a young man sustained an injury to one leg, necessitating the carrying of a cane through life. "What a coincidence!" was always the concluding remark of the pastor whenever he repeated the story.

When Premonitions Thrived

Periodically someone revives the time-worn accusa­ tion that all Scots are superstitious. As a matter of record with ghosts, spooks, evil spirits, and the like, the Scottish race has placed no more credence on the yarns than do the Irish where fairies and leprechauns are concerned, which claim however does not prohibit a limited belief in such other supernatural phenomena as second-sight and premonitions. No doubt psychologists and theologians make a sharp distinction between second-sight and premonition experiences but with the Scots particularly it is merely the difference between 'seeing' and 'feeling'. To be gifted with second-sight was considered a Highland privilege reserved for few mortals and made no distinction be­ tween one's status in life or intellectual attainments. Indeed the prophets of old might well have been included

78 in the mystic category although their earthly occupations ranged from simple fishermen to kings of Babylon. Second-sight visions and premonitions persisted among Highland immigrants (and those of other races) long after belief in ghosts and kindred spirits had van­ ished, perhaps by reason of the fact that both intelli­ gences bore marks of affinity to many unnatural (albeit supernatural) manifestations such as intuitions. A mother may 'feel' the presence of danger to her child — a fore­ warning as it were — and she may 'feel' the coming visit of an old friend. But mothers are not alone in this realm of prescience, for it is not unknown that zealous clergy and missionaries have merited experiences of supernatural intelligence or divinely inspired gifts, of premonition, ex­ periences that defy- coincidence. Although many instances associated with priestly zeal for his flock might be related as corroborate evidence, suffice it to recall that of one pastor of an Antigonish parish who neither accepted nor rejected premonitory- intervention. The fact that he was of Scottish descent precluded 'premonition' from his vocabulary. Not many years past when the telephone made its first appearance in Antigonish County and when the automobile was a rare vehicle in most communities, it was not an isolated occurrence for the telephone to ring loud­ ly during the wee small night hours in the glebe house of the priest in question. The good pastor would quickly rise, only to find no caller on the other end of the line. Nevertheless he would dress with all speed, hurry to the tabernacle of the nearby church, then with viaticum, holy oils and stole return to his residence to prayerfully await a messenger sent to convey the tired priest to the side of a dying member of his flock in some remote section of the parish. The arrival of a man and transportation was as cert­ ain in the mind of the pastor as the call which led him as a rural youth to the Altar of Sacrifice and eventually to episcopal mitre. Then back in the lonely study of the

79 parish glebe, oblivious of any inexplicable intervention, he would murmur the words of the Eucharistic Hymn: "Lo! o'er ancient forms departing Newer rites of grace prevail; Faith for all defects supplying Where the feeble senses fail. "

Spooks in a Haunted House

"The skies were lowering and misty, a drizzling rain fell almost continually and when dusk had deepened into darkness a gale sprang up that shook the house incessantly and wailed around the cornices in the most weird man­ ner," a reporter dispatched to his paper on March 8th, f 922 after he arrived at a "haunted house" in Caledonia Mills with Dr. Walter Prince of New York to investigate the strange happenings in the home of Alexander and Mary MacDonald of that place.

It was in January of the same year when the farmer, his wife and 16-year old Mary Ellen were alarmed by the odor of burning wood from an upstairs bedroom. With a pail of water the blaze was easily extinguished, although strangely it was not in the vicinity of the chimney where they naturally suspected the origin should have been. Re­ turning to the kitchen through the dining-room all ap­ peared normal for a moment, only to discover smoke from the direction of a vacant room near them. On entering they found a small couch smoldering, a fire they had no difficulty dousing. Satisfied that this was surely a coincid­ ence, they sat in the kitchen once more to finish the brew of tea they had set aside, when suddenly to their horror a wet towel above the sink was all aflame. When next a patch of wall paper began burning in another section of the house the inmates realized that something unnatural was happening. Neighbors were summoned and although

80 vigilant guards were posted in sections of the house, other fires materialized mysteriously. But fires — some 30 in all — were not the only phe­ nomena that disturbed the good folks of Caledonia Mills settlement. In the barn cattle and horses were made vic­ tims of some evil prankster. Cows and other stock placed in their own stalls at evening were found in other com­ partments of the stables at morning; milk left in spring creamers overnight would contain ashes or similar foreign matter on the following day. Eventually the old couple with their adopted daughter, Mary Ellen, were persuaded to evacuate their dwelling while the authorities made a thorough study of the events that transpired from the first occurrence of that winter evening. Whatever may have been in the minds of the local residents who originally investigated the hocus-pocus performances in the home of Alexander MacDonald soon turned into the supernatural domain. Had they been Irish more than likely the explanation would have been laid at the doors of the leprechauns, those little tricky fairies bent on mischief. But the natives of the place were Scottish and consequently only spooks or ghosts could be responsible for acts so destructive.

Newspapers sent their crack reporters and investiga­ tors to the scene. Harold Whidden of Antigonish and D. McRitchie of Halifax covered for their periodicals the stories that were distributed by news media on the con­ tinent. Peter "Peachy" Carrol, a private investigator and native of Pictou, attempted to solve the enigma from a criminal angle. The local pastor of St. Andrews (Fr. D. L. MacDonald) and Dr. H. P. MacPherson, Rector of St. F. X. attacked the spiritual point of view. Conan Doyle, famous author of "Sherlock Holmes" detective mysteries, was invited to investigate and Dr. Walter Prince, then President of the American Association of Psychic Re­ search, determined to personally solve the strange goings- on in Antigonish.

81 Criminal investigators could discover no lead to as­ sume that the phenomena had any material connection, nor could they fix blame. Religious leaders (some with Highland ancestry) were prone to attribute the events to spiritual intervention and Dr. Prince, having eliminated sleight-of-hand skulduggery with the aid of scientific apparatus he had set up, resorted to hypnotism and auto­ matic writing but was content to conclude that "the evidence is all sincere and authentic so far as the witnesses have any knowledge". His scientific report of the study is available but inconclusive. The MacDonald house at Caledonia Mills, like its owners, has gone the way of all matter. Superstitious individuals sometimes pause — mostly by day — to point out where once stood the 'Spook House', and at Hallow­ een children confine their 'trick or treat' visits to dwell­ ings far removed from the locale of the inexplicable tales of 1922. True some curious university students with sceptical professors still occasionally visit the haunted ruins while Mary Ellen in the safe sanctuary of her Central Canada home no longer believes what she has seen nor cares to mention it.

82 Buried Treasure

Shortly after the first Highland settlers took up land at Arisaig several families of the McNeils of Barra obtained deeds to properties some four miles to the east. Prior to the arrival of the Scots this was Micmac territory. In any event no white man had yet set foot in the district where a narrow entrance connected the waters of Northumberland Strait with the small cove — well not until the ship "Malignant" ran aground on the sandy beach or maybe was deliberately scuttled, depending on whether the unfortunate vessel was the pursuer or the pursued. The fishermen of Malignant Cove — 12 miles from Antigonish on the North Shore Highway — will tell you that there is no shortcut to economic security. Salmon nets and lobster traps have been their way of acquiring the better things of life for their families. A hazardous and exacting occupation it is true. Others, not native to the community, have preferred to search for buried treas­ ure along the shores of the district, all because of a 200- year-old legend. Nevertheless the pot of gold is as elusive today as it was almost two centuries ago. Everytime someone undertakes to explore a cache supposedly concealed on Oak Island or when scuba divers recover chests of valuable coins from a sunken ship off Louisbourg, the legend of Malignant Cove is revived. It is fair game as legends go but there are those who say that the "Malignant" was a pirate ship being pursued by a British warship and elected to escape by way of the entrance to the cove. Escape capture it did, but at the expense of running aground in the shallow waters. The crew however salvaged the treasure they had seized from defenseless merchant ships on the high seas and carrying their loot inland buried it with the customary supersti­ tious ceremony. There seems to be little question that a ship of some importance came to a hapless end within this sheltered

83 haven, for there are many residents of the area who recall tales, told by their elders, attesting to the incident — tales that have challenged bold adventurous men to seek out the lost treasures. Sometimes storms, like the one in 1923 — wash away the accumulated sand and gravel, thereby exposing the hull of the doomed vessel until once more rough seas and tides bury the evidence with sand. Not infrequently beach-combers, quite by chance, stumble upon a cannon ball that might just as well be pirate as warship ammunition. Time marches on. The tides of the Strait roll upon the peaceful shore mountains of sand and sometimes in a hostile mood sweep it back into the sea, leaving by day that stark skeleton of the past for the curious spectators to speculate on. Perhaps too by night the moaning of the winds against the bones of the wreck in a weird language remind the sceptic that buccaneer spirits still guard their buried treasure at Malignant Cove.

Nor has Malignant Cove the only claim to buried treasure and the evil spirits that watch over it. Passing northward through the locks of Canso Strait ships enter St. George's Bay. Along the rugged coast is Pomquet Island less than one mile from Bayfield's shore. Here the authorities erected a lighthouse to warn mariners at night of the dangerous rocks of the Bay. But according to legend Pomquet Island served a more sinister purpose. It tells that once Captain Kidd or one of his buccaneer fraternity discovered this isolated piece of rock and thereon buried caskets of his ill-gotten pirate treasure. Rumor that his wicked spirits still guard the hidden chests, as they do on Oak Island, has never deterred the custodians of the lighthouse to pay heed to the supersti­ tions woven around this island, nor has anyone learned of adventurers who have grown wealthy at the expense of pirate treasure.

84 Legend of Ghost Lake Even if you believe that fact and fiction are miles apart you will have to concede that not an inconsiderable part of history allows for legend as one incident, dating back more than two hundred years in Antigonish bears evidence. Scarcely one mile beyond Monastery on the Trans-Canada Highway towards Sydney one notices a tranquil little lake surrounded by rees and a variety of shrubbery common to the district. On most maps this body of water is called "Tracadie Lake" although this name is only of recent origin, because the natives ol the settlement still remember it as GHOST LAKE. Folks who recall the early history of Nova Scotia have not forgotten that at Louisbourg in Cape Breton there was at one time the strongest fortress in America, but that was before England challenged the claims of France in the New World. Then in June 1 758 the forces of England attacked and destroyed the stronghold capturing more than 6000 prisoners. Since the British plans were to lay siege next to Fort Beausejour before attacking Que­ bec, it was decided to incarcerate the captured French at Beausejour first. Since the British had not sufficient ships to transport the prisoners, legend relates that the decision was to march them overland but always within sight of the English ships cruising near the shore after having ferried the marchers across Canso Strait. One day's march beyond the Strait the commanding officer discovered a body of fresh water overlooking St. George's Bay. The land around the lake was level and conducive as a camp site and for drilling purposes. Each day the bright uniforms of the soldiers gleamed in the autumn sun and at night the beat of drums added an eerie portent to the scene. Such was the spectacle which con­ fronted the Indian encampment concealed in the hills of Merland above the lake. But it was the weird music of the drums at night that filled the aborigines with fear and they would hasten to summon Glooscap to guard them had not the hostile army departed.

85 Although the strange white men clothed in red tunics had marched away with their 'weapons of fire and smoke'yet at night the devil clamor of drums lingered on. Weeks passed, and months too, and another genera­ tion of the Micmac tribe was born on the ridges above Tracadie but the sound of marching men and the beat of drums never ceased, while the elders would say, "It is the spirits come to haunt us." The squaws, holding the little papooses to their breasts, would then warn, "It is the ghosts of your ancestors." Ghosts! Then with the passing of time the 'white man' ar­ rived in the domain of the Micmac to trade tokens for furs. And so it was that the French learned the secret of the extraordinary revulsion of the natives for that peace­ ful body of water on the trail leading to Havre Boucher. So the traders from Chedabucto gave the water its name, GHOST LAKE, and it was thus marked by early geograph­ ers on the maps of Nova Scotia. For those travellers who do not accept legends as treasures of history it is their privilege to go along with "Tracadie Lake" but the tourist public and other more sentimental souls do prefer to remain romantic.

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86 8

PLACE NAMES

The naming of locations where people made their homes in the New World followed the pattern accepted in the countries from which they came. Naturally in areas that were chiefly forest land communities were identified, as in Antigonish, by7 Pinevale, Maple Ridge and Ashdale or Elm Street, but where trails or rivers converged one finds Cross Roads (Ohio) and (Addington) Forks. Throughout the United States and Canada, several States, Provinces and cities have retained their Indian names or the acoustic interpretation of native expressions. When each summer season foreign visitors come to Anti­ gonish the first question that prompts their curiosity is, "By the way what is the origin of the quaint name you have given this picturesque town?" Naturally they expect to receive such an explanation as that attached to the legend of the origin of the name Skowhegan, a town on the Kennebec River in the State of Maine. Apparently on one occasion many years ago, when fur-trading was an active occupation in New England, an Indian trapper delivered his pelts to the trader of the village, then moored his scow at the nearby wharf while he visited friends on the other side of the river. When he returned he discovered that someone had stolen his little boat. The Indian hastened to report his loss to the authorities, saying indignantly, "My7 skow-he- gone", hence SKOWFIEGAN as the local factor reported. The following pages will explain how a number of communities have received their names and why they have been retained in Antigonish.

87 Monks Head

Should anyone suggest that there is a legend res­ ponsible for the name of that prosperous Acadian portion ol Pomquet Parish known as Monks Head, do not believe it because it is simply not so. Perhaps it is natural that children, who are prone to indulge in creations of the imagination, might see some resemblance between the silhouette on the headland entrance to Antigonish Har­ bor and the bust ot a monk. Indeed the idea may have come from an imaginative adult who recalled that the early missionaries who served the Pomquet settlement were the Trappist monks of Tracadie although priests from Isle Royale had periodical­ ly visited the mission, established at Pomquet for exiles who from f 762 began to settle the place. However there is definitely no legend associated with the name. History alone is the culprit At the outbreak of the American War of Indepen­ dence several regiments who were loyal to the crown had been transferred to the Halifax military base in Nova Scotia. Among this number were the Royal Nova Scotia Volunteers (Regiment) and the Independents (a com­ pany of older veterans) who at the conclusion of the Revolution were united under the command of Colonel Timothy Hierlihy7. His second in command was Major George Henry Monk, who had been born in Boston in 1748. He was the son of James Monk who came to Halifax as had other New England Loyalists. As mentioned elsewhere in our memory gems, as a reward for their services to the king some 88 veterans of the war were given grants of land totalling more than 20,000 acres around Antigonish Harbor. The Governor in the year 1784 directed the surveyor-general to proceed to Antigonish to lay out this acreage in the area most suitable for Hierlihy and his associates. As a result, the choice recommended was along the north shore of the harbor, presently referred to as Sea- bright but by the Grantees as Town Point. Then in May of 1784 Hierlihy and his men with servants and children comprising 116 souls arrived at the entrance to take up the land allotted to them. Major Monk was apparently not with the arrivals for the muster does not include his name. There was however a perfect explanation for this. It seems Monk had good lriends at Court because it tell to him to come- to Antigonish prior to the arrival ol his comrades to represent the surveyor-general in supervising the settling ol the grantees on the lot assigned to them and to reassure the local Indians of their rights. This was a convenient arrangement since it presented the opportunity of obtaining a larger and perhaps more suitable piece of pie for himself— as was the case. Records of the surveyor-general ol Nova Scotia indicate that on March 29, 1784, Major George Monk had been 'granted 1000 acres of land on the east side of Antigonish Harbor entrance'. It is not known whether Major Monk ever established residence on the grant of land he received or if like his fellow veterans of Town Point he realized that soldiering was a more genteel occupation than farming. In any event he is next heard from at his Hollis Street home in Halifax and his later residence in Windsor.

It is interesting to note that in the Court of Sessions for Hants County in 1789 he was fined ten shillings for 'having neglected to attend divine service for a space of three months'. One cannot help speculating how the treas­ ury of the attorney-general would be embellished in our day if the same penalty was invoked. Major Monk was elected to the Nova Scotia House of Assembly in 1 792. Nine years later he was appointed judge of the supreme court. In 1816 he resigned from the Bench, requesting pension for retirement, which was allowed for the then prodigious annuity of $4500. Until his death in f823 the soldier-politician-jurist, who gave

89 to a Pomquet suburb a name, lived in Montreal. So much for the distinction between legend and history.

Donnybrook

Whoever has not heard of Donnybrook has not heard of freland — well unless, of course he was a native of Ohio in Antigonish County. More than f60 years have passed since the first Highlanders arrived to settle in Antigonish County but they were not alone of the Celts who fled persecution and economic serfdom in the Old Land. Most boats sailing out ol Scottish ports with emigrants called along the Irish coast lor provisions and it was not uncommon for y/oung Irishmen to seek passage for the New World, without worrying whether the- destination be Newfound­ land, Nova Scotia or the United States of America. About the time that the exodus from the Highlands was at its peak a boat from Mallaig sailed into an Irish port and when it departed two brothers, staunch sons of Eire, were among the passengers. Almost two months later the vessel docked at the wharf at Ballantyne's Cove, at the foot of Cape George, and discharged its passengers including the Irish youths who apparently were not aware that in the village (Antigonish) through which they travelled to their new homes, were many of their com­ patriots who had served under Hierlihy. Having secured deeds to the homesteads and armed with adequate provisions the Murphy boys journeyed on past the lovely Gasperaux Lake and Ohio, until they located the 400 acres that had been assigned them in the district that was later called Sullivan's Mountain. It was not long before more from their Irish homeland joined them in this 'promised land' which they nostalgically named IRELAND. Heedless of sound advice of more

90 knowledgeable neighbors that the soil on the mountain was not suitable for successful farming, they persisted, perhaps because the land was their own and freedom was sufficient blessing. Undaunted the families of Eire tilled the soil on their marginal land at Upper Ohio but each year more and more of their offspring wandered abroad leaving their elders to make the best of conditions but no longer on the Mountain. The designation "Ireland" disappeared from the County records and in its stead the post office and school became "DONNYBROOK" much as the Scots on the North Shore preferred Lismore to Knoydart. "DONNYBROOK"!, the folks at the Highoes would say scornfully, not realizing that the very term in Irish legend meant fighting talk. You see, Donnybrook is now a suburb of Dublin in Ireland and was at one time a village outside the city to which King John had granted a license for the holding of agricultural fairs. Unfortunate­ ly the King was not sufficiently familiar with the temper of some of his Subjects, since for three centuries the so- called "Fairs" turned out to be riots. Hence the present- day interpretation of any peaceful assembly that ended in confusion as a "Donnybrook" whether it was a picnic or dance at Ohio or a political rally in Toronto. Well as Ireland yielded to Donnybrook, so did Donnybrook to Stewart's Mills, and Stewart's Mills to Hillcrest P. O. where courier mail from St. Joseph's is now delivered to four families — all Scots.

College Grant

A remote rural community which served its pur­ pose in the pioneer period of settlement in Antigonish has finally gone the way of districts where marginal soil can no longer sustain an economy demanding a decent stand­ ard of living for country dwellers.

91 What College Grant may have been to those sturdy pioneers who sought only an opportunity for livelihood will probably be forgotten but to all who cherish learning and the price a people should pciy for it, is a story asso­ ciated with Antigonish of a century-and-a-half ago. Nova Scotia prior to obtaining provincial status was a colony of the Empire and therefore followed the pattern of England where the established church (Church ol England) enjoyed state privileges not enjoyed by dis­ senters (Catholics, Presbyterians, Baptists and Method­ ists). Among the more lucrative advantages was that of governmental support for education, which in Nova Sco­ tia provided schools for one-fifth of the population to the exclusion of the remaining four-fifths of its citizens. Against this unjust principle Dr. McCulloch fought on behalf of Pictou Academy with incidentally the sup­ port of Rev. Thomas Trotter, second pastor of St. James Presbyterian Church in Antigonish. By an act of the Nova Scotia Legislature in 1788 King's College was recognized as the first institution of higher learning in the province (and Canada) and in the following year it was established at Windsor because it was believed that students resident in the seminary7 there would be exposed to fewer temptations than they would in Halifax. It was stipulated that the principal of the college should be an ordained minister of the Established Church and the governors were authorized to pass by-laws which included the particular one to which Dr. McCulloch objected. From the treasury of the colony King's College received an original grant of $4500 and an annual allow­ ance of $f800. Then in 1802 the British Government supplemented this support to the amount of f 000 pounds annually. However the monetary contribution was not the only financial support King's College would receive. As early as 1749 an agreement was made between the Lords Commissioners of Trade (Home Government)

92 J and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel that townships about to be settled must allocate 400 acres for the support of a clergyman (Church of England) and an additional 400 acres for a schoolmaster and, since the latter excluded all dissenters, such grants were directed to schools and colleges of the Established Church. Conse­ quently to facilitate the interpretation of boundaries of Antigonish, the act of the Nova Scotia Legislature speci­ fied that the county consist of the townships of Arisaig, Dorchester (town area), St. Andrew's and Tracadie. In each of these townships two parcels of land (each of 400 acres) had been set aside for the support of the clergy and schools of the Established Church. One such parcel of land was allocated in the south-west corner of the new county, bordering St. Mary's District and Pictou County and some six miles from Lochaber Lake. Here were the ancestral homes of Irish settlers — the Carrols, Layes and Wadlins — who for one hundred years struggled in vain to maintain a satisfactory economy for their off­ spring only at length to surrender it to the ravages of forest invasion. In 1864 the Free School Act was proclaimed in Nova Scotia and the responsibility of establishing school districts and identifying them became the duty of the then board of school commissioners. In the highland district above Lochaber there were sufficient children to demand a school and, recalling the fact that within the boundaries were 400 acres for King's College, the board named the section "College Grant" but the natives, who have been forced to domicile elsewhere still prefer to remember the place they were born as "The College".

Doctor's Brook

For seaside recreation and picturesque landscape the North Shore paved highway between Antigonish and

93 New Glasgow has just about everything the heart desires. On the one hand the waters of Northumberland Strait sweep in upon the shore and on the other, hills of hard­ wood and evergreen lend a primeval atmosphere to the scene. Wherever one looks between Malignant Cove and Lismore there is history, for this is the district of Antigo­ nish County where Highland pioneers first made their homes and where, apart from Mission chapels of early Acadians, the first Catholic Church in the Diocese was erected by Jacobites who were dispossessed of their prop­ erty on the Scottish Mainland and the Western Isles. Midway between the Cove and Arisaig a deep ravine rising at Eigg Mountain offers a course for the clear stream which passes under the highway to reach the sea. This small body of water the pioneers named DOCTOR'S BROOK.

As early as 1784 Scottish immigrants were settling the land from Merigomish to Cape George. Ten years later farm lots had been carved out along the shore and on the higher ground of Maple Ridge and Eigg Mountain. The pioneers had by now built their first chapel of logs at Arisaig which they dedicated to St. Margaret of Scotland. Shortly after Father Alexander MacDonald arrived at Arisaig, a compatriot left his Scottish homeland to join kinsfolk in Prince Edward Island. This immigrant was a doctor by7 profession and Calvinist by religious persuasion — the only two distinctions between himself and the pastor of St. Margaret's for they bore the same name and were Jacobites. Dr. Alexander MacDonald was born on the Isle of Skye, a true descendant of Clanranald, who refused to live under the persecution of the victors of Culloden. The immigrant ship carrying Dr. MacDonald docked at Pictou to discharge passengers destined for land along the North Shore, prior to proceeding to Prince Edward Island with the balance of cargo and settlers. The good Doctor disembarked at Pictou to try out his sea-legs but while ashore he was apparently robbed of documents and

94 funds he carried by rogues who constantly preyed on arrivals, fn his plight Dr. Alexander MacDonald recalled that at Arisaig was a Catholic missionary with whom he had been acquainted in the Old Country. Soon Doctor and priest were reunited and a fast friendship grew be­ tween these two pioneers. The hospitality of the pastor was reciprocated by the doctor through devoted care of the ill of the district. Neither weather nor travel were deterrents for the man of medicine during the year spent under the roof of his friend. Then when the doctor was about to forsake Nova Scotia, Father MacDonald prevailed on him to remain and as an inducement to do so transferred without consulting his bishop some 10 acres of land (church) in Antig^. "h village to his Calvinist compatriot. In Antigonish Doctoi Alexander built his home near the site of Mount Cameron and having resolved difficulties arising from his gift of land, married the daughter of Daniel Harrington. Almost one hundred years have gone since the kindly doctor from the Isle of Skye passed away but his memory lives on just as surely as that little stream from the now deserted plateau of Eigg Mountain continues to run towards the beach, because long long ago the folks along the shore christened the district DOCTOR'S BROOK as their monument to a good and true friend. In every home along the Arisaig shore pioneers would remind their offspring of the virtues of their medical kinsman: "With deep concern for those distressed He gave to each his very best And following a higher plan Daily served his fellowman".

95 Pleasant Valley

A few years past there was near panic in the shire­ town of Antigonish when the citizens realized that a summer drought lowered the level of the water in the Clydesdale reservoir to dangerous proportions. Fortunate­ ly someone familiar with the area recalled that high up on Maple Ridge — three miles from the reservoir — there was a lake with adequate water to supplement the existing storage at Clydesdale. Local 'know-how' soon provided an aqueduct to put the minds of the town community at ease. Curious residents of Antigonish flocked to the mountain to verify the 'discovery' of a water supply but those with an aesthetic sense for natural beauty found more than they looked for. Those who troubled to pause at the top of the ridge to gaze down upon the scenery below witnessed a pan­ orama of unexcelled beauty stretching out towards the town itself and beyond to the waters of Antigonish Harbor. Beneath them lay Pleasant Valley — a sightseeing paradise for tourist-minded visitors. Nova Scotia abounds in lovely spots to soothe the tired traveller, camera fans and painters, to say nothing of those who seek trails that appeal to the hiker. There are Pleasant Valleys in Colchester County (near Shorts Lake), in Pictou (close to Westville), in Halifax (over­ looking Mill Lane) and in Yarmouth County (near Hooper Lake). Yet none compares with the peaceful grandeur of our own Pleasant Valley on the mountain road to Arisaig. Pleasant Valley is located at the foot of Eigg Moun­ tain. As was most of Antigonish County, this district was a virgin forest consisting of both hard and soft wood — trees of great antiquity such that it is related that one pioneer — John Smith — sold a single pine tree 83 feet in length for £18 sterling for the spar of a vessel under construction. Tradition tells that most of the heavy timber on the mountain was blown down by the "big storm" of 1839.

96 The first settlers were Donald McGillivray7, Allan Gillis, John Smith and Allan MacDonald, all of whom have descendants living today in the district. It is doubt­ ful if the pioneer settlers of Pleasant Valley knew that the early Micmacs had already given the place its first name. 'Welskoodaguk', the Indians called it — meaning a picturesque valley. But the pioneers recalling the hamlet near Moidart (Scotland) which was "Glenuig", christened their new home 'Glen Uig' in Gaelic memory of the glen hills across the seas. There in their new homes the exiles from the Highlands carved out farms for their offspring. Sheilings were replaced by homes, schools erected and, dutiful to their spiritual origin, pioneers walked the 10 weary miles (sometimes bare-footed) over the moun­ tain trails for Sunday Mass at Arisaig as an example for those who would follow them that faith demands sacrifices. Whenever I read the verses of a contemporary poet I wonder if she had in mind our own Pleasant Valley in Antigonish. At least hers is an invitation that should not be disregarded. "Do take me out to the hills today, Under the spacious blue skies. The green of the Valley7 so far below Filled with its sweet surprise. Nothing of hurry and nothing of haste, Just quiet contentment is there. f shall find God in the hills today And freedom from earthly care." Though faraway fields look green, there are green hills near home too, not least ol which are those at the foot of the mountain in the district that was named "Yan­ kee Grant" by reason of the New Hampshire settlers who made it their home. However before many years passed Yankee Grant disappeared and the more recent settlers renamed the community CLYDESDALE because the district reminded them of the waters of the Clyde in the land from which they had come.

97 UNFORGETTABLE CHARACTERS

It has been characteristic of the founding races of Antigonish not to take any credit for the accomplish­ ments that have made this section of Nova Scotia known and respected on the continent. Such is the modesty of a people. Nevertheless the 20th-century is not too far re­ moved from the period of first settlement that unfor­ gettable personalities should be lost to kinsfolk and friends. The traveller through the countryside of Antigonish is compelled to wonder at the patience and perseverance of the pioneers who carved homes out of a forest wilder­ ness. The mounds of stone which rose above many a fertile field and the seemingly endless pole fences that dotted the districts to mark the properties of thrifty farmers, the hand-hewn timber and forged nails that fashioned the family dwelling, the loom and the cobbler's bench in every home, the wooden schooners that kept shipwrights occupied in many yards and the iron men that sailed them, are evidences that should not have been lost for they told the story of a strong and virile men — and women. Yet amid the toil of the day these early settlers never failed to allow themselves the simple homely joys that lighten the burden of survival in a strange land. To them time was naught. The minutes that counted the hours and the dates on the calendar were merely time in the lives they lived. If they were called to serve in the preaching of the Gospel they were ready, and if the call was adventure in seeking out the treasures from the bowels of the earth or the perils of strange seas they were ready. It was men and women such as these that left an indelible mark on generations that followed. Is there any harm in introducing as representatives of the 'salt of the earth' some of Antigonish's 'unfor­ gettable characters'? We think not.

98 Mary Ann Mosey

For many years The Reader's Digest has featured a very popular series under the title "My7 Most Unforgettable Character". It concerns men and women who have leit their own sometime humble mark on the community and society of which they were part and whose virtues, like their lives, usually go unsung. Of such an one is the sub­ ject of this memory gem. In the section of the County of Antigonish where f was raised one was still dubious of the existence of Ne­ groes and Indians until as a rural boy one encountered the same on Main Street of the shiretown. Before long it became evident that the color of one's skin had nothing to do with the character of the individual and that what­ ever distinction, if any, other than 'skin-deep', was the consequence ol man's inhumanity to man. In this context a Micmac was simply an Indian and his woman was a squaw. And this was my introduction to Mary Ann Mosey, a native of the Bayfield Indian Reservation. One morning I entered the kitchen of our home in Antigonish town, to find mother entertaining a very old lady, who was seated near the wood stove imbibing one of the three or four cups of strongly brewed tea that she would probably accept in as many homes she visited most mornings of the week. Her skin was very7 brown as it should be for she was pure Micmac and daughter of an honorable tribe. Deep furrows lined her brow suggesting that she was an old lady7. Despite the preponderance of grey hair the abundant strands of black betrayed her ancestry. "This is Mary Ann Mosey," mother announced and the gentle squaw merely said, "Huh!" and I added, "Hi!". There would be many7 more occasions as the years tied for me to become better acquainted with this Indian lady who was equally at home under the roofs of the affluent as she was in the domiciles of the underprivileged of the town. Mary Ann Mosey was a resident of the Mic-

99 mac Reservation east of Heatherton but she was a wel­ come guest on the Indian Reserves at Nyanza, Whycoco- magh and Eskasoni in Cape Breton. Like other women of the Reservations at that period Mary Ann was skilled in the craft of basketry, so that almost any morning when the 'way freight' with a passenger coach arrived at Anti­ gonish railway station, half a score of squaws would alight, each one bearing brightly colored and sweet-grass scented baskets of every size which they would hawk from door to door in the town. One was sure to find Mary Ann Mosey in the vanguard of the chattering pro­ cession en route towards Main Street whence they dis­ persed in many directions. Once the Antigonish chatelaines became acquainted with the tawny hawkers from Bayfield Road, they dis­ covered that here was a welcome solution to the drudgery chores of their own manors. Thereafter the homes of professional and business folks would compete in engaging the services of these women for one half-day each week ostensibly for domestic labor. But what the local house­ wives did not realize was that their aborigine servants were keen observers and very little scandal or social gossip escaped their keen eyes and ears. Small wonder that so many sly matrons welcomed Mary Ann Mosey and her colleagues into their kitchens quite as much to tempt the tattlers by way of employment in order to learn social secrets of their neighbors who would divulge nothing important at afternoon teas or Ladies' Aid ses­ sions. Perhaps Mary Ann Mosey had talents that others of her tribe lacked. She was an inveterate 'tea-cup reader' and with superstitious practices still prevalent among the better class of society, one can appreciate in what de­ mand this particular fortune-teller was held. Oh! yes, I too may have been an innocent victim of a sort (school exam questions, puppy rivals, etc.) for I would watch until Mary Ann consumed the last drop of tea in her saucer before offering her my cup to be read. Then she would drain from mine all the liquid, allowing the brewed

100 leaves to cling to the side of the cup. She would then whirl the inverted cup thrice on its saucer and begin, "Me see much good luck soon . . . etc. . ." and so on only" until my dreams had arrived safely in an Utopia. Sure, Mary7 Ann Mosey was one of the most unforgettable characters 1 had ever known.

Jamie of the Queen's Guards

The world must have looked exceedingly small to James MacGillivray from the eminence of Highiield when he looked down on the then thickly settled district of Maryvale and the angry waters of the cove to the north. As a youth he made up his mind that he would one day see a great deal more of the world than that which stretched out at his feet. Naturally to fulfil this dream, circumstances demanded that he take one step at a time. Teaching school seemed to Jamie to be the door that led to his ambition. James MacGillivray was a descendant of a learned and noble Scottish family. Grandfather Andrew had come to Nova Scotia in 1791 and his paternal grandmo­ ther was a niece of the Chief of Kinlochmoidart, whose influence among the clans was instrumental in rallying the Highlands around Prince Charlie at Glenfinnan. An­ drew7 settled at Dunmaglass, near Arisaig, but he left his son John in the Old Land until 1818, during which time John was a member of the household of Alexander of Glenaladale, who trained the boy in the skill of piping until he became one of the most accomplished of the immigrants to Nova Scotia. Besides, "John the Piper" was a story-teller and poet of no mean accomplishment, having composed many Gaelic songs that, were published in Scotland before he came to Canada. John the Piper had two sons; one, Alexander, who prior to studying for the priesthood (illness and death intervened before his Ordination) published "Companach

101 an Oganich" (A Youth's Companion), a Gaelic catechism which the late Msgr. P. J. Nicholson was in the process of translating when health failed him. The second son of John the Piper was James, or "Jamie" by which he was better known, who was as typical a Highlander as one could find in Scotland with his six-foot-four physique. Small wonder that wider fields than the rocky soil of the plateau of Eigg Mountain beckoned Jamie because scarce­ ly a day passed that the music of the pipes and the folk­ lore of his kinsmen beyond the seas had not been made part of him. His father's home maintained an intellectual atmosphere— one which led Alexander to debate philoso­ phical subjects in the Pictou "Bee" and to study theolo­ gy, and one which directed Jamie to the teaching pro­ fession. After several years teaching on the mainland, learn­ ing of the numerous Scottish settlements in Cape Breton, Jamie accepted a position as schoolmaster at Bras d'Or. Here he became associated with more recent arrivals from the Highlands, whose affection for the homes they had forsaken across the seas caused Jamie to be more deter­ mined than ever to experience first hand the excitements of which his Gaelic friends told. Before long, a vessel that had discharged a cargo at Sydney returned to the home port on the Clyde. Jamie's apparent stamina earned for him free passage and the fulfillment of his ambition. However his sojourn in the Highlands was short-lived because the desolation and depopulation of the country since Culloden was more than he could accept. In search of further adventure our hero wandered down to London.

To have reached the heart of the Empire, the greatest city in all the world, the seat of the mother of parlia­ ments and the home of the British sovereigns from earli­ est history might have sufficed many a traveller; not so Jamie MacGillivray. Thus far he had not exploited either his physique or his charm — not until now when both pre­ requisites won him a place in the most select of royal ceremonial units, the Queen's Own Guards. To have seen

102 Jamie dressed in the resplendent uniform of the famous regiment and.seated on a magnificent charger (the por­ trait of which pose adorns not a few homes in the County of Antigonish) was sufficiently convincing that the goal of the erstwhile Highfield pedagogue had been reached. Whether it be for good or ill, Jamie's popularity soon had gone beyond the rank-and-file of the Guards. Queen Victoria, now in the second decade of her long and glorious reign, was said to have worshipped at the shrine of physical perfection and it was also said that Jamie did come within her observing eye. It goes without saying that when the royal family journeyed to the continent periodically, a select escort of Her Majesty's Guards accompanied the entourage, among which number was none other than the son of John the Piper. 'Tis said that there were those in the Regiment who resented the favors which Jamie enjoyed at Court. Be that as it may, Jamie MacGillivray's life ended sudden­ ly in the year 1850 shortly after having partaken of an otherwise unsuspicious repast in the mess hall of the Guards. He was buried in Brompton cemetery where many Canadian soldiers of two world wars now rest in peace.

The Klondike King

At Ashdale on No. 7 highway from Antigonish one passes the Goodwill Cameron garage, and just beyond this point a long-forgotten road turns westward connecting Ashdale with St. Joseph's. On this road was the home­ stead of William MacDonald who arrived from the High­ lands in 1834. William married Kate Chisholm in 1844 .and the couple had ten children — six boys, four girls. The family was known as the 'Black Bills' to distinguish them from other MacDonalds of the parish, although one son was called 'Gray Dan'.

103 Alexander, one of the sons was born in 1862. He grew up into a big strapping lad who saw little opportuni­ ty to earn a livelihood on the larm. He would look across the Ohio Lake at the Keppoch hills where many of his kinsfolk were eking out a scanty existence on the mar­ ginal soil there. He shuddered at a similar late and so, like our fictional character in a previous gem, Alexander heard the call of fame and fortune in the recent mineral discoveries of the western States, with the result that he joined the exodus of Antigonish County youths in f 880. He found what he looked for, fame and fortune, but while he retained the former he lost the latter. What success Alexander MacDonald had in the Butte, Montana, boom has never been authentically recorded but in any event the great gold rush of the Klondike beckoned him to the Yukon in 1886. He was a giant of a man and therefore well equipped physically lor the rigors of the northwest, but what he may have lacked in prospecting acumen was compensated for by lady luck. Scarcely had the prospector reached Dawson than he acquired a hall-interest in a claim by grubstaking a discouraged Russian prospector with a sack of flour and a side ol bacon. Rather than develop the claim himself he gave a lease (lay, in mining vernacular) to two other prospectors on a 50-50 ore-recovered basis. At the end of the first 10 days panning $40,000 worth of gold was weighed, of which $20,000 went to "Big Alex" or as he was by this time referred to as "The Bull Moose of Antigonish". From this handsome profit he acquired two more leases and operated them as the first. Two years later he held no less than twenty-eight leases and assets ol over one million dollars. At the end of his tenth year in the Klondike he was offered a sum of $11,000,000 for his holdings by a London, England syndicate but he said "$30 million or nothing". By this time Dawson City had become the gold capital of the world, attracting financiers and bankers, gamblers and saloon-keepers, poets and burlesque enter-

104 tainers. Alex MacDonald, the farm boy from Ashdale, was now the KLONDIKE KING. He adored gold for the power and influence it brought him but the gold itself he disdained. Speaking for the citizens of the city on the occasion of the governor-general's official visit there in 1900, he delivered an address to Lord Minto, at the con­ clusion of which he turned to Lady Minto and handed her a bucket of gold nuggets saying "Take it. It is trash." "Big Alex's" charities were equal to his bulk. He built the Catholic Church, one of five in Dawson, and then donated to Father William Judge more than half the funds required to erect in the mad town its first hospital. The Klondike King had many friends of power in the Yukon. Among them was Tex Rickard, who later became the manager of Jack Dempsey. Among others was a competitor, subsequently a hostile one, by the name of Robert Henderson, who likewise was a Nova Scotian. Henderson was the son of a lighthouse keeper at Big Island, Pictou County. In England, "Big Alex" was presented to Queen Victoria and in Rome at tin audience with His Holiness he was made a Knight ol St. Gregory7. But all was not well with "Big Alex" MacDonald, the massive man with the handlebar moustache. Fires had destroyed several expensive buildings he had erected in Dawson City. Bad investments and worse friends, together with numerous gambling risks at length depleted the once well-filled treasury. Too busy in early life to settle down, he found a mate in one, Margaret Chishohn, daughter of a police superintendent in the territories (if Pierre Berton's research is correct) but who was an English lady according to Antigonish associates of The Klondike King. There was one child, a son.

Early in the f900s the Klondike King paid a visit to his old home at Ashdale, where his sister resided. In Antigonish he made arrangements for the education of a grand-nephew7 (Charles) and two grand-nieces. He returned to the Yukon the same year.

105 Penniless and alone in 1919 "Big Alex" MacDonald was splitting wood in fifty degrees below zero weather outside his cabin at Clearwater Creek, Yukon, when he was stricken with a heart attack. Christian that he was, he departed lor a greater adventure with a prayer on his lips while probably recalling the lines of fellow adventurer (Service) in Dawson "There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who toil lor gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold."

Men of the Cloth

With a party of retreatants it was my privilege to be present for a weekend tit St. Augustine Monastery twenty miles east of Antigonish on the Trans-Canada Highway. As we wandered around the spacious buildings and grounds of the peaceful place we could not resist the memory of Fr. Vincent de Paul who in 1819 founded here Le Petit Clairvaux and the missionary labors that left so great a Christian impact on the parish of which this insti­ tution was a part. Our thoughts rushed back to the memory ol the other noble men of the cloth who in preaching the message of the Gospel inspired their fellowmen to reach for the stars. Although they were long gone to their rest, they had left their mark on generations yet unborn such that we could visualize the great army ol churchmen marching on: The venerable Fraser (first bishop of Anti­ gonish) strolling down Main Street as he was described by a contemporary historian 'in his lay dress looking more like a general ol an army or some other great man of the world than a Catholic priest'. With him walked his compatriot and triend, the Rev. Thomas Trotter, second pastor of St. James Presbyterian Church, who to his flock and neighbors was parson, schoolmaster, farmer, land-

106 owner and miller inasmuch as he served their bodies and minds as he did their spirits. And here came Rev. John Blair (Deacon) Whidden who at his own expense and with the timber from his sawmill on Hawthorne Street, erected the first place of worship for his little Baptist congrega­ tion. These, these were the heirs of the early missionaries who brought Christianity to our shores. Scores more we pictured in the long procession — men strong in their faith and devout in the mission — the MacLeods, the Camerons, MacKinnons, Chisholms, And­ ersons, Rogers and Denoons, Gillis' and MacDonalds — all men of peace; and those too who accompanied the armies in the field — the Rev. Ronalds, MacLeans, Mac- Phersons, etc. — chaplains comforting men caught in barbw7ire entanglements in no-man's land, sharing the dangers in the air and on the seas. It is of such men of the cloth that a grateful nation owes more than material awards and royal honor can hope to repay. And the debt may yet be paid in kind — repaid by men and women of goodwill everywhere who appreciate the burden on churchmen in reconciling the moral and social implications of the times with all the contradictions of principles that w7ere the foundation of the lives of the pioneers.

The scene changed and we seemed to hear a voice from the silent procession interceding on behalf of fellow- laborers in the twentieth century vineyard "Keep them for they are in the world Though from the world apart; When earthly pleasures tempt Shelter them in Thy heart. Keep them and comfort them in hours of loneliness and pain, When all their life of sacrifice for souls seem but in vain. Keep them, and O remember Lord, Thev have no one but Thee,

107 Yet they have only human hearts with human frailty." Lo! then the vision returned and behold a youthful host of priests and ministers take up the torch that our departed friends had tossed and we knew that they would not fail in their mission.

Mutinous Crew

In the days of wooden ships and iron men the yards within St. George's Bay and Antigonish Harbor built more than one hundred ships for the coastal trade. Many of them later were familiar with the seven seas. Important also, native shipwrights were many as were men to man the fleets that made harbors in the county their ports of call. The master mariners who did not have an adventure to pass on to their offspring were sorry seamen indeed. Not so Captain William Cunningham whose home address in the year 1842 was 155 Main Street. But for this narra­ tive the scene is in a Halifax court room. Spectators who were permitted to sit in at the trial by a mixed commission of admiralty and civil judges on that Saturday, July 20th, 1844 would have heard Chief Justice Haliburton pronounce the awful sentence on the four men accused of mutiny. "You will be taken from the place whence you came and thence be hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may that God, whose mercy if sought aright all may attain, have mercy on your souls." Among the spectators present, and incidentally one of the witnesses to be called by the Crown, was Captain William Robert Cunningham, Antigonish skipper of the coastal schooner "Billow", who boarded the mutiny ship in Country Harbor, Guysboro County, and was instru­ mental in bringing the murderous crew to justice. Sparing

108 the lurid details and harrowing repetition of the narrative the evidence was: On Feb. 8th, .1844 the 550-ton ship "Saladin" with cargo aboard under the command of Captain Alex Mac- Kenzie and a crew of eleven with two passengers sailed from a South America port for London, England. Among the crew were four men with a criminal record that led them to plan and carry out as dastardly a plot as was ever contrived on the high seas. The luckless ship had not proceeded far into the Atlantic when the four conspirators treacherously attacked and killed in their bunks the unfortunate Captain MacKenzie, five members of the crew and two passengers. Now in possession of the cargo and the alcoholic spirits in the ship, the mutineers entered into a drunken orgy which rendered them incapable of guiding the vessel to the destination they bargained to reach in more sober moments. Four months later the "Saladin" drifted aim­ lessly and, without the least concern of the six men aboard, became stranded in Country Harbor.

Captain Cunningham en route to Halifax in his schooner observed the distressed "Saladin", boarded her and found conditions such that leaving a guard to keep the crew in 'protective custody' he proceeded to Halifax to report his encounter. A British frigate was dispatched to Country Harbor to conduct to Halifax the imprisoned ship and the mutinous crew. On Thursday July 18 the trial of the four conspira­ tors for their foul deed was convened by Admiral Sir Charles Adam. The two crewmen who w7ere compelled at knife point to assist the villains turned state's evidence and w7ere exonerated. Captain Cunningham was sworn and described the intoxicated condition of the mutineers and the disreputable state of the ship. On the second day of the trial all four mutineers —Jones, Hazelton, Johnston and Anderson — pleaded guilty.

Nothing remained than the sentence of the court.

109 Captain William Robert Cunningham retired to his Cape Cod home at 155 Main Street in Antigonish but not a year of his life that he did not recall for his son Rupert the words of Justice Haliburton to the condemned men: "You were seduced by the hope of gain but where is now the treasure for which you periled your peace here and your happiness hereafter. Your unhappy victims were hurried without warning into the presence of their Maker. You have had and still have time to make your peace with God. You will have the aid of pious clergymen to prepare your souls for their final departure. In their hands I leave you." The home of Captain Cunningham passed into the hands of his son Rupert who subsequently became the first town clerk of Antigonish (f889-98) and later was purchased by the Scarboro Foreign Mission Society who transferred the property to the University and then the University to the Municipality. The dwelling of William Robert Cunningham will indeed pass as all matter does but the memory of the skipper of "The Billow" will forever be associated with a foul murder of the high seas.

A Silver Teapot

Captain William Cunningham was not the only Anti­ gonish mariner to leave a thrilling saga to posterity. On the other side of the coin is the story of "Captain Angus" whose bravery at sea won him a handsome reward from Her Majesty Queen Victoria. If by tossing a cargo of tea into Boston Harbor in 1774, three score New England rebels, disguised as Mo­ hawk Indians, supplied the tinder that resulted in the War of Independence, one can understand why Angus "Cap­ tain Angus" places so great a value on the silver teapot

110 he possesses at Heatherton. You see, the priceless award was presented to Angus' father by Queen Victoria just ninety years ago as recognition for a daring rescue at sea, and of course the Queen was the granddaughter of George III who was largely responsible for the loss of the colonies. Most folks are familiar with the expression "a storm in a teapot" as a quaint way of saying "making a fuss about nothing". Well in the home of Angus "Captain Angus" the silver teapot belongs to quite a different kind of storm from the one implied in the often quoted aphorism as the inscription thereon bears out: "Presented by Her Majesty's Government to Captain Angus MacDonald of the brigantine "The Trust" in acknowledgement of his humanity and kindness to the shipwrecked crew of the ship "Coronet" of Liverpool which was abandoned at sea in Nov. 1881."

In the autumn of 1881 Captain Angus sailed out of New York with a cargo of petroleum for San Sebastian, Spain. "The Trust", 500-ton, was only twelve days out and then in mid-Atlantic when a vicious storm struck and it was at the peak of the storm that the master heard the watch shout "A wreck to the stern!" Soon the troubled ship hoved near and less than one mile distant.

The unfortunate ship was an English sail, "The Coronet" of 1500 tons, out of Liverpool with a cargo of lumber for Saint John, New Brunswick. At first it ap­ peared that all aboard had been lost, because there was no evidence of life on the deck and cabins. Spars, riggings and lumber were all gone and the doomed vessel was breaking up amidships. Drawing nearer Captain Angus observed movement on the deck. Despite the angry waves threatening his own ship, he commanded that the largest of the three life-boats be lowered and his mate, a native of Dublin, with three companions row to the dis­ tressed ship. It was then discovered that aboard "The Coronet" were the captain, his wife and seventeen mem­ bers of the crew.

Ill Rescue was not an easy task, particularly by reason of the fact that none on the wrecked vessel were in suffi­ cient condition, having survived eighteen days of Atlantic storms and with supplies reduced to wet flour and a small amount of pork. To transfer the weakened and terrified survivors to "The Trust" was an hazardous task but was carried out with the best tradition of seamanship. Running a line from the yardarm of "The Trust" to the stricken vessel one by one the captain, his wife and crew were brought to safety by Captain Angus and, after strong draughts of coffee and rum and nourishing food, life was restored to the weary survivors. Almost three weeks later the Cape George master steered his course into Port Bezanges in Spain where he landed the rescued crew and there delivered them to the British consul at San Sebastian. The silver teapot in the home of son, Angus "Cap­ tain Angus", at Heatherton tells the rest of the story but one fact is certain: even the merits of Tetley Tea do not suffice to tarnish the otherwise domestic utility of this silver souvenir.

112 10

ETHNIC MILESTONES

The historian who categorically might place the arrival in Antigonish of the principal racial groups in an order of priority would be risking his reputation — well, with the exception of awarding first place to the native Micmacs, a branch of the Algonquin tribe that named the shiretown of Antigonish "Indian Gardens". Of all the Indian tribes on the American continent the aborigines of Nova Scotia were found to be the most docile and least warlike, which in part explains their prompt acceptance of Christianity. When the first of the 'white men' appeared on the scene in the north-east mainland of the Province they found the largest concentration of Indians in the Tracadie area, with a smaller encampment at "Indian Gardens". Then, with the white men occupying lands that were formerly Micmac, gradually Indian migration merged be­ tween the two until at length the Bayfield Road Reserva­ tion under the Federal Indian Act became their own. The French were the first of the adventurers and traders to settle Acadia and if legend can be relied on the first French settlement in Antigonish was about 1768. Thereafter arrived the Scottish Highlanders (1773), the Loyalists (1783), Irish circa 1810, Negroes (1815-1875), the Dutch migration following World War Two. Briefly memory lane relates bits of the ethnic origin of the people who dwell in Antigonish County, but surely the place-names 'Nartigonneich', Morar, Havre au Bouche, Hallowell Grant, Brierly Brook and Lincolnville may suf­ fice to remind the curious that in most communities in Antigonish there are to this day remnants of those ancient races.

113 The Indian Walk

For many years July was one month in Antigonish when the "old folks" looked forward to the periodic visit from the young ones who had left the ancestral firesides for fame and fortune in Boston (which of course meant any location in the New England States, much as the elders at home referred to THE CASKET as though it was the only newspaper in Nova Scotia). Besides, the devotion to the old homestead and kinsmen, who elected to remain on the family farm, the perennial picnics pro­ vided the opportunity for expatriates to renew acquaint­ ance and exchange reminiscences. Then with July there was the Highland Games, which attracted every devotee of Highland music and dancing or enthusiasts who preferred ancient contests of skill and brawn that stirred the blood of all descendants of the Scottish race and allured the curious to this joust of gladiators. The annual Highland Games or Braemar, inaugurated in 1861 continued as a July attraction with the exception of the War Years when healthy and patriotic men and women had more serious business to attend to. However there was one other July event on the Antigonish calendar that had an history greatly ante­ dating other attractions, for its origin belonged to the native Indians of Nova Scotia and to a spiritual devotion that was born with their conversion to Christianity. INDI­ AN WALK was the name the white men gave to the Mic­ mac observation of July 26th, the Feast Day of St. Ann, mother of the Virgin Mary. In the early days of Acadia, when Cape Breton (He Royale) was the territory of France, French missionaries brought the Christian faith to the Micmac tribes of the Island. At Chapel Island in the Bras d'Or Lakes, a mission was established and it was at that time (1629) that St. Ann became the Patron of the Micmacs. July 26th is the fixed date to honor the Saint and so on that day wherever Indian Reservations are found July 26th is observed as a

114 day of prayer and merrymaking. Abbe Maillard (1710-1762), better remembered as the "Apostle of the Micmacs", is credited with bringing to Chapel Island the wooden statue of St. Ann and Our Lady. Each year this statue has been carried in the pro­ cession ol St. Ann's Feast on July7 26th. Since Father Maillard later made Antigonish his headquarters it may7 be assumed that here he initiated the same devotion to Saint Ann as that,followed on Chapel Island. When the pious Father Vincent de Paul (Merle) founded Petit Clairvaux Monastery at Tracadie in 1818 he was aware of the spiritual needs of the Micmacs of Antigonish and he lost no time carrying out the work which the Abbe Maillard began. At one time there was a chapel on the 140-acre reserve at Summerside, near Heatherton, but it had gone into disrepair. Fr. Vincent encouraged his flock to erect a new church which they did prior to f 838. ft was subsequently replaced at almost the same site by the one presently standing there. Each year as the Feast of St. Ann neared great pre­ parations were made for the occasion and by reason of the procession which was an important part, local folks named the festivity "The fndian Walk". On the Eve of St. Ann's Day the little church was filled with worship­ pers, the pastor led in evening prayers and native hymns following while the tribe converged around a huge bonfire singing and clapping hands, symbolic to orchestration. Other members danced around the leaping flames and sounds of gunshot rent the air. On the morning of the 26th the young couples of the reservation who had waited twelve months for the Day that they might be wed, joined in the happy pro­ cession (Walk) which led to the Chapel where Holy Mass was said. After the service and a wholesome banquet, another day of dancing and festivities completed a mem­ orable occasion which attracted the 'white population' by horse and buggy from far and near, taxing the livery stables in providing transportation for their clients.

115 The Negro Community

At a time when the very mention of Black Panthers or Black Power implies Civil Rights confrontation, chal­ lenge to constitutional authority and racial prejudice, it is refreshing to recall the history of a community which Antigonish shares with the neighboring county of Guys- boro. It had been a community where harmony was a way of life among the settlers there and where an extra­ ordinary spirit of good will had been engendered between the Negroes who dwell there and their 'white' neighbors beyond the boundaries of the 'black' community. From Rear Monastery in Antigonish to Reddy's Hill, near Boylston in Guysboro County, a distance of some ten miles, one finds as large a concentration of 'colored folks' as in any other part of Nova Scotia. Per­ haps more than any of their provincial brethern they have appreciated the humanitarian resolve of the great AmericanPresident Lincoln, who freed them from slavery. To them is the honor of naming their community Lincoln- ville, after the emancipator who made them free. Less than a quarter of a century after the colonies of America gained their independence from England the Fugitive Slave Laws were enacted. This Act provided that each State must return captive escaped slaves to their owners, for 'negroes' were considered chattels of their masters. In the New England States of the Union there were many United Emipre Loyalists who preferred to leave their homes and possessions rather than be disloyal to the Motherland. So we find that no small number of 'colored' slaves — including the legendary Uncle Tom — particularly in the South who grasped the opportunity to follow their Loyalist masters into central and Mari­ time Canada, did so. Among the latter was a Loyalist contingent who in the year 1785 arrived at Halifax from St. Augustine, Florida. This party, referred to in a com­ munication from Governor Parr of Nova Scotia to Lord Sydney, then British Secretary to the Colonies, consisted

116 of one hundred and ninety-four 'white and black' men, women and children. Just ten years after the arrival of these Loyalists in the Province, a rebellion in Jamaica, which involved a tribe descended from former Spanish slaves and identified as Maroons, was squashed by the British authorities. Some five hundred of the insurgents were shipped off to Halifax where for a time they were employed on the building of the Citadel. However before long it was appar­ ent that the burden of maintaining so large a number of indigent immigrants was too heavy for the Colony to bear. A petition was sent to the Home Office in London to return the Maroons either to Jamaica or to Sierra Leone in Africa, which request was carried out by the British Government. But when the departure date arrived many of the Maroons, fearing to be returned to foreign masters, fled into hiding and those Negroes were added to the earlier arrival of 'blacks' from St. Augustine. Whether or not integration of the Jamaica and Flori­ da Negroes was ever consummated in the Halifax area is not recorded. Neither are there any statistics available to indicate how many of the 194 Loyalists from St. Augustine were 'blacks'. But records do show that in the year 1787 some sixty-nine negroes received grants of land of forty acres each in the Tracadie District of Sydney County, which consisted of Guysboro until 1836 and Antigonish until 1863. Among the names of those negroes who obtained title to lands at that period were Andrew Izzard, Benjimin Gerro, Charles Ash and Caesar Borden, all of which names may be found to this day in the district between Boylston and Monastery. Nor should it be overlooked since it is an established fact that when the vessels of the Whidden fleet returned from their trading voyages to the West Indies and sailed into their home port at Bayfield, it was a rare occasion that did not find at least one stowaway aboard. Most of those who emigrated from the West Indies to Antigonish were permitted to remain in Canada, and they found their

117 way to Upper Big Tracadie and Lincolnville to be united with blood-brothers from alien lands and to share with freemen the legacy which the American Emancipator conceived and Nova Scotia confirmed.

La Point du Cemetiere

The expulsion of the Acadians in f 799 was a great wrong and a blight on civilized conduct although perhaps in the context of 20th century warfare a more lenient penalty than that which contemporary nations inflict on their vanquished neighbors. To be deprived of their lands and their homes, then to be dispersed indiscriminately from Acadia to Louisiana, with parents separated from children and loved ones, was a wicked and cruel act. The Scots after Culloden learned the meaning of this lesson in warfare but they at least chose voluntary exile but they7 like the Acadian victims never ceased to recall the thoughts of every patriot: "Breathes there the man with soul so dead that never to himself has said 'This is my own my native land'." How well Longfellow understood the plight of the exiles and their response to the call of their hearts: "All along the shores of the mournful and misty Atlantic Dwell a few Acadian peasants whose ancestors wan­ dered back To their native land to die in its bosom." Among the thousand Acadians who did return from exile were the ones who found sanctuary at St. Pierre and Miquelon, and those who reached Magdalen Islands. These were the ones who settled in the eastern section of St. George's Bay — at Pomquet, Tracadie and Havre Boucher in Antigonish County. Ah, but were they7 the first of French extraction to do so and should historians be content with this claim?

118 It is recalled that when Nicholas Denys received from the King of France a charter to explore Acadia and trade with the Indians, he established between 1654 and 1667 two forts, one at St. Peters, the other at Cheda- bucto (Guysboro). It was from the latter habitation that his traders set out for Indian Gardens (Antigonish) to meet the Micmac trappers. Whether or not any of these traders may have made their homes near where they oper­ ated is merely a conjecture, but legend still persists that there was a French settlement within Antigonish Harbor before the Hierlihy grantees arrived and that once a chapel stood near the shore. Then there is the record that the first settlers at Tracadie bore the names Benoit, Begin, Petipas, Dugas, Matthey (Mattie), Cote, Bariault (Barrio), Fougere, Per- rault (Perro), Deslauriers (Delorey) and Girouard (Girroir). Yet none of these names appeared on the list of exiles read by Colonel Winslow at Grand Pre. Therefore it must be assumed that the ones located at Tracadie must have reached there prior to 1768, which conjecture prompts one other theory. After the siege of Louisbourg Governor Wentworth recommended that English settlers be sent from Britain to Acadia. To this end Sir Edward Cornwallis was com­ manded to lead in his war sloop "The Sphinx", a flotilla of 13 vessels carrying 2300 settlers to the colony. But when the transports appeared off Lunenburg it was found that there was not an available pilot to guide the ships safely into Halifax. It was then that a 20-year old French pilot w7as found for the task and he carried out his task so well that Cornwallis awarded the lad with supplies and ammunition for settlement in the colony. This youth was Pierre Benoit. Some time later one, Pierre Benoit, and a few com­ panions sailed into St. George's Bay and landed at a place the local Indians called "Tracadie". They built cabins nearby and named the spot La Point du Cemetiere. At the same time Edward Cornwallis was fortifying Che- bucto and founding the City of Halifax.

119 11

WHEN FARAWAY FIELDS LOOKED GREEN

Before Antigonish graduated from village to incor­ porated town status the more ambitious youth of the shiretown'and rural districts were finding their way into the industrial centers of New England and Central Canada, because thus far Confederation had made only a retro­ gressive impact on the economy of the people. The im­ pression had now almost become a conviction that the plum of an Intercolonial Railway would prove disastrous for the Maritime provinces. However in the village there was sufficient employment since the half-a-hundred carriage horses in the three livery stables were rented every weekend and holidays during the summer months to travelling salesmen and town dudes for jaunts into the country.

Before long the more affluent families in the village disposed of their carriages and steeds in favor of the Model-T Ford automobiles that were making their ap­ pearance, in the streets. This transition was hard on the heels of the announcement in the press that shortly a railroad would connect Nova Scotia with Calais, Maine. Sure enough the railroad did reach Antigonish and a CN station would eventually become a reality. It did and the youths of the communities cast their eyes on the cheapest and fastest means of travel. Then the Western Prairies in mid-summer called for harvesting help and so harvest excursions drew more and more of the youth away from the countryside, nor were they all farm harvesters. Therein, with the failing economy of the peri­ od, the exodus not only of laborers but professional men and women many of whom would never return although they carried in their breasts the memory of a rich legacy bequeathed to them by staunch pioneers.

120 Renting a Buggy

Every time I stroll down Town I chat with my old friend, Sam Bowie, when I find him sitting on his familiar bench by the Post Office, where he enjoys daily leisure hours in his ninetieth year. Sam and I are old cronies though separated by two score years, since much of the idle moments of my youth were spent around the array of stables of Whidden's Livery, where Sam was then the competent groom (professionally speaking). Absentmind- edly sometimes we would glance up and down Main Street, despairing of the sight of the venerable Tom Fee, the onetime sweeper, with broom and handcart dawdling in the wake of the ubiquitous horse of that faraway-day. Mostly Sam and I spoke of the three Livery Stables of Antigonish much as modern youth talk about garages and automobile agencies. Contemporary youth telephones or drops around to a car rental establishment for an Avis, Hertz or Tilden and stipulates the exact type he requires — Volkswagen, Ford or Buick — standard or convertible with or without winter tires, indicating the approximate time the vehicle will be required and usually the destination. Little more than half-a-century ago the travelling salesman or the urban sport courting a rural maid, secured his transportation by horse and buggy via the local Livery Stables.

There were three well established Livery Stables in Antigonish at the turn of the Century — Randall's, Sears' and Whidden's — each one catering to clients with quite distinct tastes. The oldest of these was Randall's, located on the site of the now Wandlyn Motel and under the sometime management of Nicholas Landry, retired co- founder of Eastern Auto Ltd. Fred Randall's Livery was unique in that it maintained only carriage horses for rental but incidentally boasted of a team of beautiful white steeds which, when harnessed to the ceremonial barouche did the honors from church to many a bridal banquet. Although it has been known that more than one

121 inebriated patron, over-anxious to display his financial and political influence in the community, could engage this matrimonial conveyance to deliver him from a local tavern to his rural fireside, the Randall stables neverthe­ less suffered none in reputation. On Pleasant Street and in the space west of Antigo­ nish Wholesalers, T. J. Sears (then Lochaber merchant), who held a contract to carry mail and passengers be­ tween Antigonish, Sherbrooke and Goldboro, maintained buildings for his coach horses. These eventually developed into a Livery Stable where carriage horses and buggies might be rented to the travelling public and for pleasure driving. This arrangement continued until some years after Mr. Sears formed the Eastern Automobile Company for the Ford agency. The pioneer presence in Antigonish of two Hup- mobiles, owned by Dr. J. J. Cameron and J. S. Stewart, had as yet little effect on the busiest of the stables, oper­ ated by C. Edgar Whidden (father of Harold, Charles and Albert), at the West End. Some of the buildings still stand among the trailer court complex. Besides draft- horses, rented to lumber operators throughout the East­ ern Counties, the Whidden stables had such favorite carriage horses as "The Flying Frenchman", "Black Minister" and "Red Lightning" which local sports would reserve for Sundays and holidays. The addition of a rub­ ber tired buggy with one of the choice steeds usually made all the difference between hosting a country belle just home from Boston or a local wall-flower saddened by the college closing. The old order changes giving place to the new. Alas the three stables of Antigonish have long since gone but where, O where are the Hertz, Tilden and Avis stalls of yesterday? But before the appearance of the Hertz service one sometimes rented a Model-T Ford.

122 The Tin Lizzie

Just as one of the six local Cadillacs glided smoothly- past us as we stood tit the corner of Main and Church Streets my friend remarked with a gesture towards the sleek car, "Some buggy!" To this 1 merely said, "Yep" as he interrupted to remark, "A big jump since the day of the old Tin Lizzie". At the turn of the century7 the name Fred Randall was stiid to enjoy at least three distinctions. lie was the proprietor of the popular Main Street Livery Stables, he purchased large quantities of lurs from local trappers and he possessed the first Ford automobile in Antigonish. While two other residents drove larger and more expensive cars at that period, it was the Randall vehicle that cap­ tured the general fancy of Antigonish folks. The fact that manufacturing competitors may not have been responsi­ ble lor dubbing the orphan Ford "A Tin Lizzie", never­ theless the snub stuck and thereby made this automobile the choice of the proletariat. No sooner had the first car made its appearance on the world market than society was divided into two classes — those who walked and those who drove auto­ mobiles. But widespread as this form of transportation had become in the space of a dozen years it was not until the year 1896 that the British Government per­ mitted cars on the English highways to exceed four miles per hour and then only if preceded by someone carrying a red flag (page drivers on Church, Hawthorne and St. Ninian Streets). It was in 1906 that Henry Ford turned out his first automobile — and for a price that the ordinary wage earn­ er in America could afford to pay. It was not surprising that Fred Randall should be among the first in Nova Sco­ tia to purchase one ol these miracles of transportation because after all he was in the transportation business whenever 'Horse Power' was a factor. It is not our inten­ tion to credit Fred Randall with lines that not a few of

123 his contemporaries might claim, but for what they are worth they ran thus:

"Once I owned a galloping "Lizzie" About the first that Ford did make, The kind that made a fellow dizzy When she'd start to rattle an' shake. Her coal lamps were made of brass An' no battery did she need; Nor seemed to crave for cars to pass, 'Cause she wasn't built for speed."

Long before Antigonish's first Tin Lizzie appeared on the streets Nicholas Landry, who groomed the coach horses, their harness and the carriages of the Randall stables, learned every detail in the mechanism of the re­ cently delivered Ford. He'd raise the hood to trace every movement controlled by hand and foot of the daring driver. He would check the purpose of the coils, the plugs and the carburetor and he'd learn what made the differen­ tial howl and why the brake band burned or the pistons thumped. Nick could also explain to Mr. Randall's satis­ faction if not to other passengers, why they had to hold fast to their seats when Tin Lizzie hit the numerous bumps of the town's gravelled streets. But it was quite a show for some years when the Randall Ford took its daily stroll through the various thoroughfares of Antigonish. Pedestrians stood on the curb to watch the immaculately groomed open car, with its proud driver pass by. Occasionally he'd condescend to reach a gloved hand outside the door to squeeze the rubber bulb that sounded the warning horn lor a jay­ walker only to be rewarded by sending a terrified horse off on a wild stampede down the streets, scattering the bystanders and crashing the driverless wagon against a power pole. Much water has poured over the dam since the first "Tin Lizzie" was introduced to the Shiretown of Antigo­ nish County. There have been bigger and greater Fords —

124 Mustangs, Falcons and Thunderbirds — but it will be a far day before the folks forget the old Tin Lizzie that charmed Main Street in Antigonish.

The CN Station

In the year 1839 the first steam locomotive to travel on steel rails in Nova Scotia, pulling a train of cars, was named "The Sampson". It was a novel event in the history of Pictou County and was celebrated with becoming honors. For an entire day, the strange vehicle of transporta­ tion carried enthusiastic throngs of passengers, fare free, between Albion Mines and New Glasgow. This was the beginning. It was not until forty-one years later that the Eastern Extension Railway, precursor of the Intercolonial, reached Murphy's Mills (now Sylvan Valley) from the New Glasgow terminal, and that was the turn for the inhabitants of Antigonish to celebrate. The erection of the splendid brick station of the ICR added the third monument to the shiretown — only the cathedral and university buildings rivalled it in inter­ est. A daily stroll 'to the station' very soon had become almost as imperative as the once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage of Moslems to Mecca. To be part of an age in Antigonish that witnessed the introduction of the telephone and electric lights, the phonograph, the motion pictures and the automobile was as much as one generation could comprehend. But it was the locomotive, the Iron Horse, that held most folks in awe — perhaps because more were able to share in its advantages. In time the novelty wore off, — too much familiarity perhaps. Still, fickleness is a characteristic peculiar to man­ kind. 'Tis said that man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn and so loneliness is no stranger

125 to the twilight years of prince and peasant. Old Dobbin too, who survived the heat and the toils of the day is fortunate to end his days on lush pastures, a reward more humane than the corral of a pet food abattoir. Yes and Skipper, that faithful hound that like Mary's lamb fol­ lowed us to school each day and stood guard over baby brother in his crib, ekes out his declining asthmatic years 'unwept, unhonored and unsung'. In any event we were discussing the CN station in the heyday of its glory when it first saw the light of day at the East End or Milltown as the ward was then known. Our thought wandered back to the time when twice daily the east and westbound passenger trains made Antigonish their point of crossing when the idle, the curious and the squires attended each arrival with watch in hand and eyes straining towards trestle or water tank to make certain the train was exactly on schedule at 1:09, give or take sixty seconds. At a respectful distance were rural dads who in a moment of weakness succumbed to the promise that they7 would one day bring the young-uns to see the 'choo- choo' in the flesh — if Dobbin would allow it. Of course there were among the throngs on the platform, the rela­ tives and friends to bid farewell to departing kinsfolk or to welcome returnees from Boston. There were the con­ temporaries ol Henry Power and John Gillis who would trade yarns with the local officials when trains departed; and there was faithful old Greg Myette to make certain that safe conveyance uptown was not lacking. Not till the Antigonish folks were cinema fans. There were countless lads and lassies who preferred to prom­ enade each evening'to the station' and beyond or perhaps just sit on the freight loading platform with their limbs dangling over the edge to the rhythm of a shunting engine. They were either oblivious or indifferent to the presence of local scamps who secreted themselves beneath the plat­ form to learn the absorbing dialogue of budding lovers. And then there was that once-a-year occasion when the

f26 circus, Ringling Bros, Barnum and Bailey or satellites came to town. Who cared for the big show at Elm Grounds or Billy-the-Captain's Field? Who cared for the street parade with its clown, wild animal cages, brass bands and calliopes, so long its one could watch the unloading of the circus at the CN station. Ah! me! What memories and what homesickness that the old CN station arouses in one in his twilight years. What ghosts still haunt those waiting and wash rooms, and does a lone voice from the ticket wicket ask "One way or return?" or is it a message that "Tempus Fugit" . . .

Harvest Excursion

"Is it true that you are going out West?" was the way one of the farm boys from Ohio learned about the cheapest method of reaching the hand of Promise two decades after Laurier prophesied that the 20th century- would belong to Canada. "Yes, 'tis so," replied his Lakevale friend who added, "on the first harvest excursion in August and quite a few of our friends in the Town are also going. Why not come?" In the next three weeks the principal conversation on Main Street was the notice that appeared on the bullet­ in board at the CN Station. It read: "Harvest Excursion to Western Canada The first excursion train to Western Canada for harvest workers will leave Moncton at 9:30 a.m. on Thursday July 30th. Fares Moncton to Regina $1.9.75. Tickets available at local stop. Passengers to pay regular rate from station of origin to Moncton, N. B." Meanwhile in every section of the County pre­ parations were in full swing. There were the working

127 clothes to be packed, suitable dress for Sundays and social events, a suit case (wicker woven) and of course sufficient lood (sandwiches, oranges, sardines, cookies and tile [ginger]) for a six-day train journey. And, yes, there was the little matter ol cultivating at least one other companion to share the adventure with and incidentally to serve as a partner (or second) in the event that reputed hassling aboard might materialize — "a friend in need is a friend indeed", as it were. The smartest harvesters would arrive at Moncton a day before the excursion train's departure in order to have a quiet lodging before D-day and to obtain the best position at the station platform on the following morning thereby avoiding the rush in boarding the coaches. Sur­ prising how many home folks were recognized so far from Antigonish but they were gregariously anxious to secure seats in the same coaches as their friends — an idiotic expectation the more experienced harvesters said. In due time, and exactly on time the first harvest CNR train of the year from the Maritimes, with its 20 coaches (including colonists and one RCMP coach) carry­ ing 1100 men, 25 women, and twenty police constables, gave one huge blast from its coal-burning locomotive to tell all and sundry that they were now on the way. The Harvesters' special had not proceeded far into New Brunswick before most of the passengers of the coach had introduced themselves. Only occasionally did one find Gaelic or French intrude into the common language of Cape Bretoners and those of the Mainland. The Bluenose fraternity was well established before night­ fall, at least sufficiently to accept the music of the fiddle, banjo, mouth organ and jewsharp as the nucleus of a tolerable orchestra, provided that one had no urge to sleep that first night. Opening of lunch baskets, the aroma of pealed oranges, garlic flavored meat sandwiches, home-made ginger beer and loud laughter at daybreak set the pattern for the routine of the trip. But who had foreseen the

f28 monotony- of sixty hours of travel across the lonely ex­ panses of the Transcontinental Railway through barren Quebec and Ontario. Small wonder that at every train stop on this hinterland route ten hundred now uncon­ trolled laborers poured out onto the station platform and nearby streets, riotously raiding the merchandise in shop windows and counters until the NWMP applied the force of the law on mischief makers who now compelled mer­ chants to shutter their places of business until the harvest train had passed out of sight towards the West. The women and children in the rear coaches had no fear for the police coach separated them from the unruly mob. When at length the Excursion Special reached Winni­ peg — the first stop for farm laborers to detrain — the excited Maritimers poured out into Main Street, nervously anticipating the sight of a band of Cree Indians galloping their wild ponies with a yelling, shooting posse of cow­ boys in hot pursuit. Bidding farewell and good luck to friends, whose destiny was Manitoba, the train proceeded to its terminal at Regina from which point a farmer un­ employment bureau directed the men to a hundred prairie towns where their employers awaited their arrival for the binding, stooking and threshing chores which would be their lot for almost three months. There also, as in Winnipeg, the friends of yesterday were scattered and homesickness overcomes many until they see on a huge billboard in the city square a familiar advertisement, depicting two muscular youths in the act of testing their strength without benefit of overclothing. Above the gladiators in bold type was printed "STAN- FIELD'S UNDERWEAR!" " 'Tis a small world after all," someone remarked as he caught a transit box car from Moose Jaw. Thus it was that the exodus of a handful of natives of Antigonish to the Canadian West became a route until no city, town or hamlet on The Prairies larger than a 'flag-station' lacked a preacher, lawyer, doctor, teacher or businessman from Nova Scotia (and Antigonish) who made the last great West his home.

129 12

NATIVE HUMOR

Anyone familiar with binoculars recognizes how different an object looks from the opposite ends of the instrument. Viewed from the smaller glass, called an eyepiece, the object appears larger and nearer, but from the opposite end the object is much smaller and farther away. When the first settlers came to Antigonish they es­ tablished communities where the particular ways of life, language and social intercourse were traditional with the members constituting the group. But before many genera­ tions had passed integration was an accepted pattern in the expansion and the development of the county. How­ ever in assessing the characteristics of the races that settled Antigonish, particularly the Scots since they are greatest in numbers, it is too often a fact that the stranger in our midst has the tendency to look from the wrong end of the glass and therefore ineptly misinterprets the people he views. Nowhere is this more evident than in rejecting the humor of our people. It is a serious mistake to believe that the earlier settlers in the eastern counties of Nova Scotia were a dour lot with little place for humor in their lives. On the con­ trary, behind the subtlety and humility of the pioneer there exists a bit of native psychology that usually rises to the occasion, which the pages that follow hope to prove.

130 Top Dressing

Some years after the barber shop for men became an indispensable convenience in Antigonish, a ladies' beauty parlor made its first appearance. Then one day a town boy and a lad from Pitchers Farm were walking along Main Street when they observed the product of the beauty salon coming towards them: permanent hair-do, scarlet finger tips, gaudy lip-stick and a drug store com- plection. "Now how do you like that?" commented the town youth, proud of the modern fashion of one of the native damsels. The boy from the farm surveyed the object of his friend's admiration and replied, "Speaking only as a 4-H farmer, I would say- that it must have been very poor soil to need so much top-dressing."

Fatal Economy

Among the belter stories brought over from the Old Land by the pioneers who settled our districts, concerns the laird who, coming upon his game-keeper near the loch, noticed how down-cast his retainer appeared and upon enquiring the cause of the old man's grief learned that the guardian's wile had died the night before. "But Archie I was not aware of Sarah's illness. In fact 'tis not a fortnight since 1 remarked on her robust condition," declared the laird sympathetically. "Ah, well 'twas this way," exclaimed the game­ keeper, "Sarah has been feeling a wee poorly these lew da\7s and I had a mind of getting her the doctor, when I recalled the powders he gave me once when I was a mite indisposed four months past. But I rallied without the powders, so I put them aside lor another bout. Then last

131 even I thought to try the powders on Sarah. I gave her one powder, and in an hour another pow7der, but before I gave her the third powder poor Sarah was dead." After a moment's grief and with a tear in his eyes the game-keeper added, "It's only through the mercy of the good Lord that I did not take any of the powders my­ self."

A Sharp Tongue

This you could say about Donald Cameron from Maple Ridge, he always had a sharp tongue when he thought he was being short-changed or slighted by classes he had disliked. Those who knew him well prophesied that his cutting remarks would catch up with him one day. The time that Donald took his first train trip to the States he saw no reason why he should not sample the cuisine of the dining car. After he had given the stew­ ard his order for lunch he observed that while his place had a setting of knife and fork, the spoons were missing. In due time the steward arrived with the order from the menu and placed the coffee beside the plate but Donald caustically addressed the waiter in a rather loud voice, "That coffee," pointing at the beverage, "is going to be pretty hot to stir with my finger. " Embarassed the steward hurried to the kitchen only to return to the diner with another cup of coffee, and said in an apologetic tone, "This one is not so hot, sir, try it with your linger."

132 Pre-Dating Women's Lib

At the time that ceilidhs were the popular social gatherings of the pioneers of Antigonish and when story­ telling was an item of every evening, a certain immigrant teacher related an experience he witnessed in a Court Room of the Old Land. It appears that the trial judge was a 'stickler' for proper decorum in places where justice was dispensed. On one occasion when an elderly lady took her place on the witness stand, the judge ordered her to remove her veil so that he would better hear the evidence. However she informed His Honor that to comply with his request it would be necessary for her to remove her hat to which the judge agreed but at the same time insisted that the witness remove both hat and veil. But at this ruling the lady replied, "No, no. There is no law that requires a lady to remove her bonnet in a Court." Angered by the challenge to his legal authority the judge ordered, "Madam you should approach the Bench and teach us the law." "No need, Your Honor," she replied, "there are plenty old wives there already."

What! A Texan in Antigonish

If it is a fact that a Scot is a subtle fellow, he is wise- to allow a Texan the prerogative of employing superla­ tives and why not with the largest State, the mostest oil and thegreatest per capita wealth in America among other lesser claims. In any event Stephan Strauss is my son-in- law and a Texan retired U. S. Army Officer. Following Steve's tour of duty in Korea, he took the opportunity to take a furlough in Australia before leaving

133 Asia. Upon his return he visited Nova Scotia with his family, during which time a number of neighbors were invited for a session of story-telling. It was during the ceilidh that Steve related that while in Australia he en­ gaged a guide to show him the best that continent could offer. One day the guide suddenly braked his jeep as a kangaroo hopped across their path. The incident apparent­ ly pleased the guide no end because he finally ran upon something in Australia that was denied Texas. At this point in the narrative one of the men in our party that evening interrupted to ask my son-in-law, "What was your comment to the guide at the sight of a real kangaroo?" "Oh," replied Steve, "I just told him that I was forced to admit that Australian grasshoppers were con­ siderably bigger than any in Texas."

No Bargains

Although the old Brierly Brook couple lived in Halifax for some years they had never travelled back to their former home in any other way than by automobile with their son. As a matter of fact they had never yet been on a train. But at last they stirred up enough courage to make the trip alone by rail. Entering the railway station they approached one of the ticket wickets and the old lady asked, "How much is the fare to Antigonish?" "It will be $5.15 ma'am," answered the clerk. Turning to her husband the old lady advised, "Well, papa, we might as well buy the tickets here. I've asked all the other ticket windows and the price to Antigonish is just the same.

134 A Proposal

My wife is Irish and when she has anything to say she goes right to the point but she often reminds me of 'other ethnic groups' that take circuitous routes to ask a simple request. Be that as it may there are occasions when the evaluation does apply like: To say the least Rory McKeen was a shy lad who for some seasons past was admiring Flora Douglas from a dis­ tance and if the truth were known, she too was seeing much to esteem in the strapping youth from St. Andrews, although she had little hope that he'd muster enough courage to ask her the question she'd be pleased to hear. Then one Sabbath morning after kirk services, who hails Flora but Rory himself, saying, "Flora would you be caring to walk with me in the kirkyard?" "Yes, Rory," she replied and so the couple in dead silence and at a proper distance apart, proceeded along the paths among the headstones until they reached the burial lot of Rory McKeen's family. There they paused reverent­ ly before Rory spoke up, "Flora, see the grave yonder," pointing to the first of two mounds of earth. "Yes, Rory," she replied. "Well there Flora, rests my father," Rory explained, "and next to him lies my mother." "Yes, Rory," the lass murmured meekly. "And, Flora, when I come to die, I'll be buried over yonder," indicating a lot in the kirkyard, then continued, "and if I have a wife she'll be buried yonder beside me." "Yes, Rory," was all Flora could utter at this solemn moment. After a protracted interval of silence, the bashful youth found sufficient utterance, "Would you like to lie yonder beside me when you're dead?" "Yes, Rory," the lass swooned and forthwith their engagement became a reality. The moral of the yarn is that there should not be any shortcuts where serious business is at issue.

135 INDEX

Abandoned Districts 16 Mary Ann Mosey 99 Almanacs 73 Men of the Cloth 106 Bandstand 37 Monk's Head 88 Beginning 11 Mutinous Crew ' 108 Buried Treasure 83 Native Humor 130 Church Bells 51 Negro Community 116 Churches and Schools 48 No Bargains 134 Country Dance 21 Old Town Clock 41 Country Store 25 Parlors to Remember 66 Cathedral Art 49 Pedlar 70 College Grant 91 Penny Candy Store 39 CN Station 125 Pew Holding 53 Doctor's Brook 93 Place Names 87 Donnybrook 90 Pleasant Valley 96 Ducking Hole 45 Pre-Dating Women's Lib .... 133 Ethnic Milestones ...... 113 Premonitions 78 Fatal Economy ., .;.\ .....'„ . 131 Proposal 135 Forerunners . . ."...._,../. .'. . . 76 Rent a Buggy 121 Fuarag Time ... 23 Rum Lane 34 Geese on Parade 60 Rural Picnic 18 Ghost Lake 85 Rural Scene 14 Ghosts and Kindred Spirits .. . 75 Sentimental 63 Harvest Excursion 127 Sharp Tongue 132 Indian Walk 114 Shiretown 29 Jamie of the Queen's Sidewalks 32 Guards 101 Silver Teapot 110 Kerosene Lamp 68 Spooks in a Haunted Klondike King 103 House 80 Landmarks 36 Sprinkling Cart 43 La Point du Cemetiere 118 Texan in Antigonish 133 Legend of the Hearthstone ... 64 Tin Lizzie 123 Little Red Schoolhouse 56 Top Dressing 131 Main Street 30 Unforgettable Characters .... 98 Main Street School 58 When Faraway Fields Looked Green 120

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