"A woman's bone was found in it", one unromantic
and matter-of-fact member of the Octave asserts, "Evangeline's
grandmother, of course"; while another skeptically remarks, "That's more
than I can swallow; it would give me such a spell o' coughin' as I
couldn't get over"; but the conductor and others staunchly avouch the
genuineness of the article, affirming that they were present "when it
wus dug up."
The "forest primeval", if it ever stood in this region, must have
clothed the distant hills which bound the vast meadow, and now are
covered with a dense growth of small trees which are not "murmuring
pines".
A superannuated tree in the distance it is said once shaded the smithy
of "Basil Lajeunesse", that "mighty man of the village"; and only stony
hollows in the ground mark the site of the house of "Father Felician"
and the village church.
It was to this spot, then, that the wondering peasants were lured by
stratagem, when, -
"with a summons sonorous
Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat.
Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without in the churchyard,
Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the head
stones
Garlands of autumn leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest
Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them,
Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor
Echoed the sound of their brass drums from ceiling to casement, -
Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal
Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers."
After refreshing ourselves with pure, clear, and cold water from the old
well, - made by the French, and re-walled a few years ago, - we turn away,
with "a longing, lingering look behind", and continue our drive through
the great prairie, which resembles the fertile meadow land along the
Connecticut River. We stop a few moments near a picturesque little
church of gray unpainted wood, and look off over the verdant fields to
the point where a distant shimmer of water catches the eye, and the
hills bound the picture. Near at hand, on the right, the trunk of an
aged apple tree, "planted by the French", shows one green shoot; and
about the church are Lombardy poplars, which, though good sized trees,
are perhaps only shoots from those planted by the Acadians, in
remembrance of such arboreal grenadiers of their native land.
The old French dike is surmounted by a rough rail fence, and is now far
inland, as hundreds of acres have been reclaimed beyond, -
"Dikes that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant
Shut out the turbulent tides"
