Once in an ancient city, * * *
Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice
Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand,
And in its right hand a sword, as an emblem that justice presided
Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and the homes of the people.
But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted;
Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty—
Ruled with an iron rod.—Evangeline.

QUEEN ANNE'S war was brought to a close by the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713. By this treaty the French province, Nova Scotia, was ceded by France to England; and, of course, the inhabitants, nearly exclusively French, and numbering some three thousand, became subjects of Great Britain. Less than half a century later, when the French and Indian war broke out, the French population had increased to eighteen thousand—outnumbering the English three to one. In fact the presence of the English amounted to nothing more than a military occupation of the peninsula. These French peasants, usually called Acadians, had brought under cultivation large tracts of land; owned about sixty thousand head of cattle; had built neat cottage homes, established peaceful hamlets, and lived in a state of plenty, but great simplicity. They were reputed to be a peaceable, industrious, and amiable race; governed mostly by their pastors, who exercised a paternal authority over them.

Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers—
Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from
Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics.
Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows;
But their dwellings were open as day, and the hearts of their owners;
There the richest were poor, and the poorest lived in abundance.

When the French and Indian war broke out, these people were quietly cultivating their farms, and manifested no warlike disposition. Still, the deputy governor of the province, Lawrence by name, pretended to fear an insurrection, should the French in Canada attempt an invasion of Acadia. Therefore when General Braddock met in council with the colonial governors at Alexandria, Lawrence urged the assembly to do something to overawe the French, and strengthen the English authority. A plan to humiliate the Acadians was decided upon, and placed in the hands of the infamous deputy governor, Lawrence, and Colonel Monckton to execute.

A fleet of forty vessels with three thousand regular troops on board, left Boston in May, 1755, and after a successful voyage anchored in Chignecto Bay. Landing their troops, they besieged Fort Beau-Sejour, which had been erected by the French, on the isthmus connecting Nova Scotia with New Brunswick. After a feeble resistance the fort capitulated, and in less than a month, with the loss of only twenty men, the English had made themselves masters of the whole country. The inglorious campaign was ended, but the fact still existed that the obnoxious Acadians outnumbered the English; and the question remained as it was before the invasion. The deputy governor convened a council "to consider what disposal of the Acadians the security of the country required." The result of the deliberations was this: The security of the country required the banishment of the entire French population!

Lawrence and his associates soon invented a scheme which furnished an excuse for carrying into effect this infamous order. An oath of allegiance was formulated to which the Acadians as consistent Catholics could not subscribe, without doing violence to their consciences. They refused to take the oath, but declared their loyalty to the English government. This they were told was insufficient. At one fell stroke they were adjudged guilty of treason, and the surrender of their boats and firearms demanded. To these acts of tyranny the Acadians submitted. They even offered to take the oath first required of them, but the deputy governor said the day of grace was past; that once having refused to take it, they must now endure the consequences.

Their lands, houses and cattle were declared forfeited: their peaceful hamlets were laid waste; their houses given to the flames; the fruits of years of honest industry and strict economy were wantonly destroyed, and the people driven to the larger coast towns. In one district two hundred and thirty-six houses were burned to the ground at once. Part of the inhabitants who had escaped to the woods beheld all they possessed wickedly destroyed by bands of marauders, without making any resistance until their place of worship was wantonly set on fire. Exasperated by this unhallowed deed, they rushed from their hiding places, killed about thirty of the incendiaries, and retreated to the woods.

To render this scheme of tyrannical banishment completely effective, further treachery was necessary. In each district the people were commanded to meet at a certain place and day on important business, the nature of which was carefully concealed from them, until they were assembled and surrounded by English troops; then the inhuman edict of banishment was announced to the heart-broken peasants. Very little time was allowed them for preparation. In mournful crowds they were driven to the beach. Women with white faces pressed their babes to their hearts; children dumb with terror clung to their parents; the aged and the infirm as well as the young and strong shared the common fate.

At the large village of Grand Pre, when the moment for embarkation arrived, the young men, who were placed in the front, refused to move; but files of troops with fixed bayonets forced obedience. As soon as they were on board the British shipping, heavy columns of black smoke ascending from Grand Pre announced to the wretched Acadians the destruction of their lovely village.

The embarkation of these peasants, and the burning of Grand Pre is thus described by Longfellow:

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful procession.
There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embarking.
Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion
Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, saw their children
Left on the land, extending their arms with wildest entreaties.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Suddenly rose from the South a light, as in Autumn the blood red
Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon
Titan-like, stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and meadow,
Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows together;
Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village,
Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lie in the road stead.
Columns of shining smoke uprose and flashes of flame were
Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering hands of a martyr.
Then as the winds seized the gleeds and the burning thatch, and, uplifting,
Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred housetops
Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame intermingled.
These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and on shipboard.
Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their anguish,
"We shall behold no more our homes in the village of Grand Pre."

The property which had before escaped the hands of the spoilers was now laid waste on the plea of discouraging the return of the exiles, who, through their blinding tears, saw the land of their homes and their hopes fade from view.

No preparations had been made for their settlement elsewhere; nor did they receive any compensation for their property from which they were forced, or that had been wickedly destroyed. In a starving and penniless state, they were put ashore in small groups at different points along the coast of New England, where many of them perished through the hardships they endured. A pathetic representation of their wrongs was addressed to the English government, and by reference to solemn treaties made between them and the provincial government, they proved their banishment to be "as faithless as it was cruel." "No attention, however," says Marcus Wilson, "was paid to this document, and so guarded a silence was preserved by the government of Nova Scotia upon the subject of the removal of the Acadians, that the records of the province make no allusion whatever to the event."

After the close of the French and Indian war, France ceded all her possessions in Canada to victorious England. The case of the Acadians was again brought before the English government, but no compensation was ever allowed them for the outrages committed against them. The property of which they were ruthlessly plundered was never restored. They were allowed to return to the province, and, on taking the customary oaths, could receive lands; but of the eighteen thousand that were banished, less than two thousand returned:

Still stands the forest primeval; but under the shade of its branches
Dwells another race, with other customs and language.
Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic
Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile
Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom.

For such atrocious acts as these, we find no apologist among our historians. On every hand they meet with execration. Such wanton cruelty—such palpable violations of human rights are stains upon the escutcheon of the nation that permits them to be perpetrated within her borders.

It is quite generally supposed that such atrocious crimes as this against the French peasants of Acadia are only to be met with in former ages or among non-Christian countries. But in writing the history of the Rise and Fall of Nauvoo—strange as it may appear, and almost past believing—it is my task to relate events which have taken place in the nineteenth century, in this age of boasted enlightenment and toleration, that shall make the expulsion of the French peasants from Acadia pale in comparison with them; events which have occurred in the United States, the boasted asylum for the oppressed of all nations; events which would be more in keeping with the intolerance of the dark ages and the cruelty of Spain, during the reign of the inquisition, than in this age and in this nation. What events are these that so thunder in the index? Such deeds as outrage humanity, and well-nigh destroy one's confidence in human governments; mock justice; deride the claims of mercy; and pull down the wrath of an offended God upon the people who perform them, and upon the government which allows them to go unwhipped of justice. Listen to the history of the Rise and Fall of Nauvoo.