100% found this document useful (1 vote)
27 views55 pages

5 Steps To A 5: AP European History 2021 1st Edition Jeffrey Brautigam - Download The Ebook Now and Own The Full Detailed Content

The document promotes the ebook '5 Steps to a 5: AP European History 2021' by Jeffrey Brautigam, available for download at ebookmass.com. It also lists additional recommended AP study guides for various subjects, each with links for download. The content includes a comprehensive study program and preparation strategies for the AP European History exam.

Uploaded by

aallosbundel
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
100% found this document useful (1 vote)
27 views55 pages

5 Steps To A 5: AP European History 2021 1st Edition Jeffrey Brautigam - Download The Ebook Now and Own The Full Detailed Content

The document promotes the ebook '5 Steps to a 5: AP European History 2021' by Jeffrey Brautigam, available for download at ebookmass.com. It also lists additional recommended AP study guides for various subjects, each with links for download. The content includes a comprehensive study program and preparation strategies for the AP European History exam.

Uploaded by

aallosbundel
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
You are on page 1/ 55

Visit ebookmass.

com to download the full version and


explore more ebook or textbook

5 Steps to a 5: AP European History 2021 1st


Edition Jeffrey Brautigam

_____ Click the link below to download _____


https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-european-
history-2021-1st-edition-jeffrey-brautigam/

Explore and download more ebook or textbook at ebookmass.com


Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.

5 Steps to a 5: AP U.S. History 2021 Elite Student Edition


Daniel P. Murphy

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-u-s-
history-2021-elite-student-edition-daniel-p-murphy/

5 Steps to a 5: AP U.S. History 2021 Daniel P. Murphy

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-u-s-
history-2021-daniel-p-murphy/

5 Steps to a 5: AP Environmental Science 2021 1st Edition


Courtney Mayer

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-environmental-
science-2021-1st-edition-courtney-mayer/

5 Steps to a 5: AP European History (ed. 2024) Beth


Bartolini-Salimbeni

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-european-history-
ed-2024-beth-bartolini-salimbeni/
5 Steps to a 5: AP Computer Science A 2021 Dean R. Johnson

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-computer-
science-a-2021-dean-r-johnson-2/

5 Steps to a 5: AP Biology 2021 Mark Anestis

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-biology-2021-mark-
anestis/

5 Steps to a 5: AP Statistics 2021 Corey Andreasen

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-statistics-2021-corey-
andreasen/

5 Steps to a 5: AP Psychology 2021 Laura Lincoln Maitland

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-psychology-2021-laura-
lincoln-maitland-2/

5 Steps to a 5: AP Physics C 2021 Greg Jacobs

https://ebookmass.com/product/5-steps-to-a-5-ap-physics-c-2021-greg-
jacobs/
Copyright © 2021, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2013, 2011 by
McGraw-Hill Education. All rights reserved. Except as permitted
under the United States Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this
publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any
means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior
written permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-260-46724-6
MHID: 1-260-46724-4

The material in this eBook also appears in the print version of this
title: ISBN: 978-1-260-46725-3, MHID: 1-260-46725-2.

eBook conversion by codeMantra


Version 1.0

All trademarks are trademarks of their respective owners. Rather


than put a trademark symbol after every occurrence of a
trademarked name, we use names in an editorial fashion only, and
to the benefit of the trademark owner, with no intention of
infringement of the trademark. Where such designations appear in
this book, they have been printed with initial caps.

McGraw-Hill Education eBooks are available at special quantity


discounts to use as premiums and sales promotions or for use in
corporate training programs. To contact a representative, please visit
the Contact Us page at www.mhprofessional.com.

McGraw Hill, the McGraw Hill logo, 5 Steps to a 5, and related trade
dress are trademarks or registered trademarks of McGraw Hill and/or
its affiliates in the United States and other countries and may not be
used without written permission. All other trademarks are the
property of their respective owners. McGraw Hill is not associated
with any product or vendor mentioned in this book.
AP, Advanced Placement Program, and College Board are registered
trademarks of the College Board, which was not involved in the
production of, and does not endorse, this product.

TERMS OF USE

This is a copyrighted work and McGraw-Hill Education and its


licensors reserve all rights in and to the work. Use of this work is
subject to these terms. Except as permitted under the Copyright Act
of 1976 and the right to store and retrieve one copy of the work,
you may not decompile, disassemble, reverse engineer, reproduce,
modify, create derivative works based upon, transmit, distribute,
disseminate, sell, publish or sublicense the work or any part of it
without McGraw-Hill Education’s prior consent. You may use the
work for your own noncommercial and personal use; any other use
of the work is strictly prohibited. Your right to use the work may be
terminated if you fail to comply with these terms.

THE WORK IS PROVIDED “AS IS.” McGRAW-HILL EDUCATION AND


ITS LICENSORS MAKE NO GUARANTEES OR WARRANTIES AS TO
THE ACCURACY, ADEQUACY OR COMPLETENESS OF OR RESULTS
TO BE OBTAINED FROM USING THE WORK, INCLUDING ANY
INFORMATION THAT CAN BE ACCESSED THROUGH THE WORK VIA
HYPERLINK OR OTHERWISE, AND EXPRESSLY DISCLAIM ANY
WARRANTY, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED
TO IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR
A PARTICULAR PURPOSE. McGraw-Hill Education and its licensors do
not warrant or guarantee that the functions contained in the work
will meet your requirements or that its operation will be
uninterrupted or error free. Neither McGraw-Hill Education nor its
licensors shall be liable to you or anyone else for any inaccuracy,
error or omission, regardless of cause, in the work or for any
damages resulting therefrom. McGraw-Hill Education has no
responsibility for the content of any information accessed through
the work. Under no circumstances shall McGraw-Hill Education
and/or its licensors be liable for any indirect, incidental, special,
punitive, consequential or similar damages that result from the use
of or inability to use the work, even if any of them has been advised
of the possibility of such damages. This limitation of liability shall
apply to any claim or cause whatsoever whether such claim or cause
arises in contract, tort or otherwise.
CONTENTS

Preface
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Introduction: The Five-Step Program

STEP 1 Set Up Your Study Program


1 What You Need to Know About the AP European
History Exam
Background Information
Frequently Asked Questions About the AP European
History Exam
2 Determine Your Test Readiness
Three Approaches to Preparing for AP Exams
Detailed Calendar for Each Plan
Setting Up a Study Group

STEP 2 Understand the Skills That Will Be


Tested
3 The Ways Historians Think
Introduction
Reasoning Chronologically
Putting Information in Context
Arguing from Evidence
Developing Your Historical Thinking Skills
Rapid Review
4 Take a Diagnostic Exam
AP European History Diagnostic Exam Answer
Sheet
Section I, Part A: Multiple-Choice Questions
Section I, Part B: Short-Answer Questions
Section II, Part A: Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Section II, Part B: Long-Essay Question
Answers and Explanations

STEP 3 Develop Strategies for Success


5 The Multiple-Choice Questions
Introduction
Passive Knowledge and the Process of Elimination
Putting Your Historical Thinking Skills to Use
About Guessing
Further Practice with Multiple-Choice Questions
6 The Short-Answer Questions
Introduction
Putting Your Knowledge and Historical Thinking Skills to
Use
Further Practice with Short-Answer Questions
7 The Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Introduction
The High-Quality History Essay
Five Steps for Creating an Outline for Your Essay
Characteristics of the Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Applying the Principles of the High-Quality History Essay
to the Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Scoring the Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Further Practice for the Document-Based Question
(DBQ)
8 The Long-Essay Question
Visit https://ebookmass.com today to explore
a vast collection of ebooks across various
genres, available in popular formats like
PDF, EPUB, and MOBI, fully compatible with
all devices. Enjoy a seamless reading
experience and effortlessly download high-
quality materials in just a few simple steps.
Plus, don’t miss out on exciting offers that
let you access a wealth of knowledge at the
best prices!
Introduction
Choosing Your Topic
Applying the Five Steps to a High-Quality History Essay
Scoring of the Essays
Further Practice for the Long-Essay Question

STEP 4 Review the Knowledge You Need to


Score High
9 Major Themes of Modern European History
Introduction
Interaction of Europe and the World
Changes in Wealth and Who Had It
Changes in Knowledge Systems and Worldview
Changes in Society and Its Institutions
The Individual and Society
National and European Identity
The Organization of the AP Course into Units
10 From the Middle Ages to the Renaissance
Further Resources
11 The Challenge of the Renaissance
Introduction
Italian Society of the Renaissance
Renaissance Values
Artistic Achievement of the Renaissance
The Renaissance and Scientific Advancements
The Spread of the Renaissance
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
12 The Reformation and the Fracturing of
Christianity
Introduction
The Need for a Religious Reformation
The Lutheran Revolt
Creation and Spread of the Protestant Movement
The English Reformation
Reformation in Eastern Europe
Calvin and Calvinism
Social Dimensions and the Radical Reformation
The Catholic Response
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
13 The Great Voyages of Exploration and Early
Colonization
Introduction
Exploration and Expansion
The Spanish Empire in the New World
England, France, and the Triangular Trade Networks
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
14 Economic Change and Political Consolidation
Introduction
Economic Stress and Change
Thirty Years’ War
Britain: The Rise of Parliament
France: The Construction of a State
Central and Eastern Europe: Compromise
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
15 Economic Change and the Expansion of the State
Introduction
Great Britain: The Triumph of Constitutionalism
France: The Triumph of Absolutism
Russia: Tsarist Absolutism
Breaking the Traditional Cycle of Population and
Productivity
Market-Oriented Agriculture
Rural Manufacturing
Technical Innovations in Agriculture and Manufacturing
Eastern Ambition
War and Diplomacy
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
16 The Rise of Natural Philosophy, Scientific
Revolution, and the Enlightenment
Introduction
The Traditional View of the Cosmos
Alternative Traditions of Knowledge Before the Scientific
Revolution
Development of New Institutions
The Rise of Copernicanism
Kepler’s Laws
Galileo and the Value of Empirical Knowledge
Advances in Anatomy, Physiology, and Medicine
Contributions of Women During the Scientific Revolution
Cartesian Skepticism and Deductive Reasoning
The Enlightenment
The Triumph of Newtonian Science
New Ideas About Natural Law, Human Nature, and
Society
New Political Ideas
The Philosophes and Enlightened Despotism
Salons and Lodges
Skepticism, Religion, and Social Criticism
The Arts in the Enlightenment
The Radical Enlightenment
The Other Enlightenment
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
17 The French Revolution and Empire
Introduction
The Ancien Régime in Crisis
The Moderate Phase of the French Revolution (1789–
1791)
The Radical Phase of the French Revolution (1791–
1794)
The Final Phase of the French Revolution: Thermidor
and the Rise of Napoleon (1794–1799)
Post-Revolutionary France and the Napoleonic Code
Napoleon’s Empire
The Decline and Fall of Napoleon and His Empire
Restoration
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
18 The Industrial Revolution
Introduction
The Industrial Revolution Begins in Great Britain
The Factory System and the Division of Labor
Iron and Steel
New Sources of Power
The Railway Boom
The Reciprocal Nature of Heavy Industry
The Spread of Industrialization
Social Effects of Industrialization
Second Industrial Revolution
Science in an Industrial Age
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
19 Cultural Responses to Revolution and
Industrialization
Introduction
Political Ideologies in the Nineteenth Century
Cultural Ideologies in the Nineteenth Century
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
20 Mass Politics and Nationalism
Introduction
Nationalism and State-Building
The Triumph of Conservative Nationalism
The Unification of Italy
The Unification of Germany
Mass Politics and Nationalism in the Habsburg Empire
Mass Politics and Nationalism in France
Mass Politics and Nationalism in Russia
Mass Politics and Nationalism in Great Britain
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
21 Mass Politics and Imperialism
Introduction
Causes of the New Imperialism
The Scramble for Africa
Dominance in Asia
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
22 Politics of the Extreme and World War I
Introduction
Labor Unions Begin in Britain, Then Spread to Other
Countries
Socialist Parties in Britain, France, and Germany
Women’s Suffrage Movements and Feminism
Anarchist Activity
Ultranationalism and Anti-Semitism
Zionism
The Causes of World War I
The Beginning of the War: 1914–1915
Total War
1916: “The Year of Bloodletting”
Russian Revolution and Withdrawal
Germany’s Disintegration and the Peace Settlement
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
23 The Interwar Years and World War II
Introduction
Problems and Challenges After World War I
The Weimar Republic in Germany
The Soviet Union in Economic Ruins
The Great Depression
The Rise of Fascism
World War II
Assessment and Aftermath of World War II
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
24 The Cold War, Integration, and Globalization
Introduction
The Development of Nuclear Weapons
The Settlement Following World War II
The Cold War
The European Union
The Disintegration of the Iron Curtain and the Soviet
Union
The Rise of Nationalism in Eastern Europe
Social, Economic, and Political Changes in Post–Cold
War Europe
Challenges to the Welfare State
Review Questions
Rapid Review
Further Resources
25 Science and Culture

STEP 5 Build Your Test-Taking Confidence


AP European History Practice Exam 1 Answer
Sheet
Section I, Part A: Multiple-Choice Questions
Section I, Part B: Short-Answer Questions
Section II, Part A: Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Section II, Part B: Long-Essay Question
Answers and Explanations
AP European History Practice Exam 2 Answer
Sheet
Section I, Part A: Multiple-Choice Questions
Section I, Part B: Short-Answer Questions
Section II, Part A: The Document-Based Question (DBQ)
Section II, Part B: The Long-Essay Question
Answers and Explanations

Resource Guide
Using Literary Works in European History
General Websites
General Background
Resources by Historical Period
PREFACE

Welcome to the world of Advanced Placement (AP) European


History. Whether you are, or have been, enrolled in an AP European
History course at your school or are preparing on your own, this
guide will help you to move smoothly and confidently from your
individual starting point through a five-step process that will bring
you to the level of preparation you desire. Along the way, you will be
evaluating your current level of preparation, evaluating your learning
strategies, reading widely, analyzing primary documents, taking
practice multiple-choice tests, and writing practice essays. As you
go, you will be developing the strategies and confidence you need to
score a 5 on the AP European History Exam. Each of the content
chapters concludes with questions that focus on mastery of content.
In general, they follow AP Exam formats, though not strictly as do
the practice exams.
The five-step process is described in detail in the Introduction.
Here, I simply want to urge you to enter into your preparation with
enthusiasm. The intricate story of European history is dramatic,
fascinating, and extremely relevant to the world in which you live.
The information, understanding, and skills that you will learn by
working through this guide will help you to do well on the AP
European History Exam, but they will also help you to excel in
college and to become a well-informed, critically thinking human
being. New to this edition is a section labeled Further Resources at
the end of each content chapter. These resources include offerings
of fiction and nonfiction, films, music, and artwork that can be used
to supplement (though not to supplant) the text.
As you begin, it is important that you not think of this guide as
some large book to “get through.” This guide is a tool and, like many
tools, it can be used in a number of different ways. You can follow it
through from beginning to end, or you can jump around, using the
information and exercises contained in it in any way that suits you
best. So take some time to familiarize yourself with the contents of
this guide; get a feel for how it “works.” Then, when you are ready,
read Chapters 1 and 2; they will help you to choose the mode of
preparation that is right for you.
Good luck, and enjoy your journey!
Visit https://ebookmass.com today to explore
a vast collection of ebooks across various
genres, available in popular formats like
PDF, EPUB, and MOBI, fully compatible with
all devices. Enjoy a seamless reading
experience and effortlessly download high-
quality materials in just a few simple steps.
Plus, don’t miss out on exciting offers that
let you access a wealth of knowledge at the
best prices!
Other documents randomly have
different content
done where imperial favor stood in the way. It was highly probable
that the czar would still show his benevolence toward the beautiful
artist by screening her hiding-place and the fact of her being mad, in
hope of her being able to return and complete her engagement after
rest and medical treatment.
His position now seemed worse to Clide than it had ever been.
The thought of Isabel’s being in a mad-house, a prey to the most
awful visitation that humanity is subject to, rudely, perhaps cruelly,
treated by coarse, pitiless menials, was so horrible that at first it
haunted him till he almost fancied he was going mad himself. The
image of the bright young creature who had first stirred the pulses
of his foolish heart was for ever before his eyes as she appeared to
him that day—how long ago it seemed!—in the midst of the
splendors of Niagara, and that he took her for a sprite—some lovely
creature of the water and the sunlight. He remembered, with a new
sense of its meaning, the strange air she wore, walking on as if half
unconscious he had wondered if she were not walking in her sleep.
Was it a phase of the cruel malady that was then showing itself?
And if so, was she not, perhaps, blameless from the beginning? This
blight that had fallen on her in her brilliant maturity might have been
germinating then, making strange havoc in her mind, and impelling
her character, her destiny, to fearful and fantastic issues. Some
weeks passed while Clide was a prey to these harrowing thoughts,
when he received a letter from the lawyer, saying he had something
to communicate to him of interest.
“It is not good news,” he said, as the Englishman entered his
office; “but it is better than complete suspense. The signora is not in
St. Petersburg. All our researches were useless from the first, as she
was carried off almost immediately to a lunatic asylum in Saxony.”
“And she is there still?”
“Yes; and she has been admirably treated with the utmost skill
and care, so much so that it is expected she will be quite restored
after a short period of convalescence.”
“How did you ascertain all this?” inquired Clide.
“Through a client of mine who has been for some time a patient of
the establishment. He left it very recently, and came to see me on
his return, and in talking over the place and its inmates he described
one in a way that excited my suspicions. I wrote to the director, and
put a few questions cautiously, and the answer leaves me no doubt
but that the patient whom my client saw there a few days before his
departure was the lady who interests you.”
“Did you hear who accompanied her to Saxony?”
“My client saw a person walking in the grounds with her once, and
from the description it must be the same who travelled with her
from England—her uncle, in fact: a middle-sized man with coal-black
hair and very white teeth; ‘decidedly an unpleasant-looking person’
my client called him.”
“Strange!” murmured Clide. “That description does not tally with
my recollection of the man who called himself her uncle, except that
he had a forbidding countenance and was of medium height. He had
a quantity of gray, almost white, hair, and not a sound tooth in his
head.”
“Humph! White hair may turn black, and new teeth may be made
to replace lost ones,” observed the lawyer. “I would not be put off
the scent by changes of that sort, if the main points coincided.”
“Very true. I must start at once, then, for Saxony, and try and see
for myself. I shall have difficulty in gaining the confidence of the
directors of the place, I dare say. Can you help me by a letter of
introduction to any of them?”
“Yes; I am well known to the principal medical man by name, and
I will give you a line to him with pleasure.”
He wrote it, and shook hands with his client and wished him good-
speed.
Clide travelled without halting till he drove up to the door of the
asylum. His letter procured him admittance at once to the private
room of the medical man, and, what was of greater importance, it
inclined the latter to credit his otherwise almost incredible story.
When Clide had told all he deemed necessary, the doctor informed
him that the patient whom he believed to be his wife had already
left the house and the country altogether; she had spent three full
weeks under his care, and was then well enough to be removed, and
had, by his advice, been taken home for the benefit of native air. It
was just three days since she had left Saxony. The doctor could give
no idea as to where she had gone, beyond that she had returned to
England; he knew nothing of the whereabouts of her native place
there, and her uncle had left no clue to his future residence.
Clide was once more baffled by fate, and found himself again in a
dead-lock. In answer to his inquiries concerning the nature of
Isabel’s disease, the medical man said that it was hereditary, and
therefore beyond the likelihood—not to say possibility—of radical
cure. This, it seemed, was the third attack from which she had
suffered. The first was in early girlhood, before the patient was
eighteen; the second, somewhat later and of much longer duration—
it had lasted six years, her uncle said; then came the third crisis,
which, owing, perhaps, to the improved general health of the
patient, but more probably to the more judicious and enlightened
treatment she had met with, had passed off very rapidly. It was,
however, far from being a cure. It was at best but a recovery, and
the disease might at any moment show itself again in a more
obstinate and dangerous form. Perfect quiet, freedom from
excitement, whether mental or physical, were indispensable
conditions for preserving her against another crisis. It was needless
to add after this that the career of an actress was the most fatal one
the unfortunate young woman could have adopted. But in that, no
doubt, she was more passive than active.

With this new light on his path, Clide hastened his return to
England, farther than ever, it seemed, from his journey’s end, and
laden with a heavier burden than when he set out. March! march!
was still the command that sounded in his ears, driving him on and
on like the Wandering Jew, and never letting him get nearer the
goal.
He had not the faintest idea of Isabel’s native place. She had told
him she was Scotch, and her name said so too, though she was
perfectly free from the native accent which marked her uncle’s
speech so strongly. But what did that prove either way? Was
Cameron her name, or Prendergast his? He had taken a new name
in his travels, and so had she. Still, feeble as the thread was, it was
the only one he had to guide him; so he started for Scotland as soon
as he landed in England, having previously taken the precaution to
acquaint the police in London with his present purpose, and what
had led him to it. If Isabel were sufficiently recovered to appear
again in public, it was probable that the brutal man—who was in
reality no more than her task-master—would have made some
engagement for her with a manager, and she might at this moment
be singing her brain away for his benefit in some provincial theatre.
It was clear he shunned the publicity of the London stage. Clide
thought of these things as he tramped over the purple heather of
the Highlands, following now one mirage, now another; and his
heart swelled within him and smote him for his angry and vindictive
feelings toward Isabel; and tears, that were no disgrace to his
manhood, forced themselves from his eyes. Poor child! She was not
to blame, then, for wrecking his life, and coming again like an evil
genius to thrust him back into the abyss just as he had climbed to
safety, beckoned onwards and upwards by another angel form. She
was a victim herself, and had perhaps never meant to deceive or
betray him, but had loved him with her mad, untutored heart as well
as she knew how.
The winter days dragged on drearily, as he went from place to
place in Scotland, and found no trace of the missing one, heard
nothing that gave him any hopes of finding her. The police were
equally unsuccessful in London. Stanton had gone back there, very
much against his inclination; but Clide insisted that he would be of
more use in the busy streets, keeping his keen eyes open, than
following his master in his wanderings up and down Scotland.
One dark afternoon the valet was walking along Regent Street,
when he stopped to look at some prints in a music-shop. The gas
was lighted, and streamed in a brilliant blaze over the gaudily-attired
tenors and prime donne that were piling the agony on the backs of
various operatic songs. Stanton was considering them, and mentally
commenting on the manner of ladies and gentlemen who found it
good to spend their lives making faces and throwing themselves into
contortions that appeared to him equally painful and ridiculous,
when he noticed a lady inside the shop engaged in choosing some
music. She was dressed in black, and he only caught a glimpse of
her side face through her veil; but the glimpse made him start. He
watched her take the roll of music from the shopman, secure it in a
little leathern case, and then turn to leave the shop. She walked out
leisurely, but the moment she opened the door she quickened her
pace almost to a run; and before Stanton knew where he was, she
had rushed into the middle of the street. He hastened after her, but
a string of carriages and cabs intervened and blocked the street for
some moments. As soon as it was clear, he saw the slight figure in
black stepping into an omnibus. He hailed it, gesticulating and
hallooing frantically; but the conductor, with the spirit of
contradiction peculiar to conductors, kept his head persistently
turned the other way. Stanton tore after him, waving his umbrella
and whistling, all to no purpose, until at last he stopped for want of
breath. At the same moment the omnibus pulled up to let some
travellers alight; he overtook it this time, and got in. The great
machine went thundering on its way, and there opposite to him sat
the lady in black, his master’s wife, he was ready to swear, if she
was in the land of the living. He saw the features very indistinctly,
but well enough to be certain of their identity; the height and
contour were the same, and so was the mass of jet black hair that
escaped in thick plaits from under the small black bonnet. Then
there was the conclusive fact of his having seen her in a music-shop.
This clinched the matter for Stanton. The omnibus stopped, the lady
got out, ran to the corner of the street, and waited for another to
come up, and jumped into it; Stanton meanwhile following her like
her shadow. She saw it, and he saw that she saw it, and that she
was frightened and trying to get away from him. Why should she do
so if she were not afraid of being recognized? He was not a
gentleman, and could see no reason for an unprotected young
woman being frightened at a man looking fixedly at her and
pursuing her, unless she had a guilty conscience. He sat as near as
he could to her in the omnibus, and when it pulled up to let her
down he got down. She hurried up a small, quiet street off
Tottenham Court Road, and on reaching a semi-detached small
house, flew up the steps and pulled violently at the bell. Stanton was
beside her in an instant.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I know you. I don’t mean to do you any
’arm, only to tell you that I’m Stanton, Mr. Clide’s valet; you are my
master’s wife!”
He was excited, but respectful in his manner.
“You are mistaken,” replied the lady, shrinking into the doorway. “I
know nothing about you. I never heard of Mr. Clide, and I’m not
married!”
Stanton was of course prepared for the denial, and showed no
sign of surprise or incredulity; but, in spite of himself, her tone of
assurance staggered him a little. He could not say whether the
sound of the voice resembled that of Mrs. de Winton. Its echoes had
lingered very faintly in his memory, and so many other voices and
sounds had swept over it during the intervening years that he could
not the least affirm whether the voice he had just heard was hers or
not. Before he had found any answer to this question, footsteps
were audible pattering on the tarpauling of the narrow entry, and a
slip-shod servant-girl opened the door. The lady passed quickly in;
Stanton followed her.
“You must leave me!” she said, turning on him. “This is my papa’s
house, and if you give any more annoyance he will have you taken
into custody.” She spoke in a loud voice, and as she ceased the
parlor door was opened, and a gentleman in a velveteen coat and
slippers came forward with a newspaper in his hand.
“What’s the matter? What is all this about?” he demanded blandly,
coming forward to reconnoitre Stanton, who did not look at all
bland, but grim and resolute, like a man who had conquered his
footing on the premises, and meant to hold it.
“Sir, I am Stanton, Mr. Clide’s valet; this lady knows me well, if you
don’t.”
“Papa! I never saw him in my life! I don’t know who Mr. Clide is!”
protested the young lady in a tremor. “This man has annoyed me all
the way home. Send him away!”
“I must speak to you, sir,” said Stanton stoutly. “I cannot leave the
house without.”
“Pray walk in!” said the gentleman, waving his newspaper towards
the open parlor; “and you, my dear, go and take off your bonnet.”
“Now, sir, be good enough to state your business,” he began when
the door was closed.
“My business isn’t with you, sir, but with your daughter, if she is
your daughter,” said Stanton. “One thing is certain—she’s my
master’s wife; there an’t no use in her denying it, and the best thing
she can do is to speak out to her ’usband penitent-like, and he’ll
forgive her, poor thing, and do the best he can for her, which will be
better than what that uncle of hers ’as been doin’ for her, draggin’
her about everywhere and driving the poor creature crazy. That’s
what I’ve got to say, sir, and I ’ope you’ll see as it’s sense and
reason.”
The occupant of the velveteen slippers listened to this speech with
eyes that grew rounder and rounder as it proceeded; then he threw
back his head and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.
“My good man, there’s some mistake! You’ve mistaken my
daughter for somebody else; she never was married in her life, and
she has no uncle that ever I heard of. Ha! ha! ha! It’s the best joke I
ever heard in my life!”
“Excuse me; it an’t no joke at all!” protested Stanton, nettled, and
resolved not to be shaken by the ring of honesty there was in the
man’s laugh. “You mayn’t know the person that calls himself her
uncle, but I do, sir. Mayhap you are duped by the rascal yourself; but
it’ll all come out now. I have it all in the palm of my hand.” And he
opened that capacious member and closed it again significantly.
“Your daughter must either come away with me quietly, or I’ll call
the police and have her taken off whether she will or no!”
“I tell you, man, you are under some preposterous mistake,” said
the gentleman, his blandness all gone, and his choler rising. “My
name is Honey. I am a clerk in H—— Bank, and my daughter, Eliza
Jane Honey, has never left me since she was born. She is an artist, a
singer, and gives lessons in singing in some of the first houses in
London!”
“Singer! Singing lessons! Ha! Just so! I know it all,” said Stanton,
his mouth compressing itself in a saturnine smile. “I know it all, and
I tell you I don’t leave this ’ouse without her.”
“Confound your insolence! What do you mean? You’d better be
gone this instant, or I’ll call the police and give you into custody!
“No, sir, don’t try it; it won’t answer,” said Stanton, imperturbable.
“It ’ud only make more trouble; the poor thing has enough on her
already, and I’m not the one to make more for her. If you call in the
police I’ve something ’ere,” slapping his waistcoat pocket, “as ’ud
settle at once which of us was to be took up.”
Before Mr. Honey could say anything in answer to this, a voice
came carrolling down the stairs, singing some air from an opera, rich
with trills and fioriture.
“There it is! The very voice! The very tune I’ve ’eard her sing in
the drawing-room at Lanwold!” exclaimed Stanton.
The singer dashed into the room, but broke off in her trills on
seeing him.
“What! you are not gone? Papa, who is he?”
“My dear, he is either a madman or—or worse,” said her father.
“It’s the most extraordinary thing I ever heard in my life!”
“Speak out, ma’am, and don’t you fear I’ll do you any ’arm; my
master wouldn’t ’ave it, not for all the money he’s worth. Nobody
knows the sum he’s spent on them detectives already to try and
catch you; and it speaks badly for the lot to say they’ve not caught
you long ago. But don’t you be afraid of me, ma’am!” urged Stanton,
making his voice as mild as he could.
Eliza Jane’s answer was a peal of laughter.
“Why should I be afraid of you? I never laid my eyes on you
before, or you on me; you mistake me for somebody else, I tell you.
I never heard of Mr. Clide, and I am certain he never heard of me.
The idea of your insisting that I’m his wife!” And she laughed again;
but there was a nervous twitch about her mouth, and Stanton saw
it.
“As like as two peas in a pod!” was his emphatic remark, as he
deliberately scanned her face.
There was no denying the resemblance, indeed. The face was
fuller, the features more developed, but the interval of years would
explain that.
“Look at my hand! You see I have no wedding-ring? Ask me a few
questions; you will find out the blunder at once, if you only try,” she
said.
Stanton paused for a moment, as if trying to recall something that
might serve as a test.
“I ’ave it!” he said, looking up with a look of triumph. “Open your
mouth, ma’am, and let me look into it!”
He advanced towards her, expecting instant compliance. But Miss
Honey rushed behind her father with a cry of terror and disgust. The
movement was perfectly natural under the circumstances, but
Stanton saw it in the light of his own suspicions.
“Ha! I guessed as much,” he said, drawing away, and speaking in
a quiet tone of regret. “I was sure of it. Well, you give me no choice.
I know my dooty to a lady, but I know my dooty to my master too.”
He went toward the window, intending to throw it up and call for a
policeman.
“Stop!” cried Mr. Honey. “What do you expect to find in my
daughter’s mouth?”
“That, sir, is known to her and to me,” was the oracular reply. “If
she has nothing in it as can convict her, she needn’t be afraid to let
me look into it.”
Mr. Honey turned aside, touched his forehead with his forefinger,
and pointed with the thumb toward Stanton. After this rapid and
significant little pantomime, he said aloud to his daughter:
“My dear, perhaps it is as well to let the man have his way. He will
see that there is nothing to see. Come and gratify his singular
curiosity.”
The girl was now too frightened to see the ludicrous side of the
performance; she advanced gravely to the table, on which a gas-
burner threw a strong, clear light, and opened her mouth. Stanton
came and peered into it. “Please to lift the left side as wide open as
you can, ma’am; it was the third tooth from the back of her left jaw.”
She did as he desired, but, after looking closely all round, he could
see nothing but two fine, pearly rows of teeth, all ivory, without the
smallest glimmer of gold or silver to attest the presence of even an
unsound one.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am! I beg a thousand pardons, sir! I find
I’ve made a great mistake! I’ve behaved shameful rude to you and
the young lady; but I hope you’ll forgive me. I was only doing my
dooty to my master. I’m sorrier than I can say for my mistake!” Both
father and daughter were too thankful to be rid of him to withhold
their free and unconditional pardon. They even went the length of
regretting that he had had so much trouble and such an unpleasant
adventure all to no purpose, and cordially wished him better success
next time, as he withdrew, profusely apologizing.
“Papa, he must be an escaped lunatic!” cried the young lady, as
the hall-door closed on Stanton.
“I dare say they took me for a maniac, and indeed no wonder!”
was Stanton’s reflection, as he heard a peal of laughter through the
window.
The adventure left, nevertheless, an uneasy feeling on his mind,
and the next day he called on Mr. Peckitt, the dentist, and related it.
Mr. Peckitt had not seen the wearer of the silver tooth since the time
he had attended her before her departure for Berlin; but he had
seen her uncle, and made an entire set of false teeth for him. He
took the liberty on first seeing him of inquiring for the young lady;
but her uncle answered curtly that she was in no need of dental
services at present, and turned off the subject by some irrelevant
remark. Mr. Peckitt, of course, took the hint, and never reverted to
it. This was all he had to tell Stanton; but he did not confirm the
valet’s certainty as to the non-identity of Miss Honey on the grounds
of the absence of the silver tooth. It was, he thought, improbable
that his patient should have parted with that odd appendage, and
that, if so, she should have gone to a strange dentist to have it
replaced by an ordinary tooth; but either of these alternatives was
possible.
This was all the information that Stanton had for his master when
the latter returned from his bootless search in Scotland.
On the following day Sir Simon Harness came to London and
heard of the strange adventure. He was inclined to attach more
importance to it than Clide apparently did.
“Suppose this so-called Eliza Jane Honey should not have been
Isabel,” he said, “but some one like her—the same whom you saw at
Dieppe?” Clide shook his head.
“Impossible! I could not be deceived, though Stanton might. This
Miss Honey, too, was fuller in the face, and altogether a more robust
person, than Isabel, as Stanton remembers her. Now, after the
terrible attack that she has suffered lately, it is much more likely that
she is worn and thin, poor child!”
“That is true. Still, there remains the coincidence of the splendid
voice and of her being an artist. If I were you, I would not rest till I
saw her myself.”
“It would only make assurance doubly sure. Stanton has startled
me over and over again for nothing. Every pair of black eyes and
bright complexion that he sees gives him a turn, as he says, and
sets him off on the chase. No; the woman I saw at Dieppe was my
wife—I am as sure of that as of my own identity. I did not get near
enough to her to say, ‘Are you my wife?’ but I am as certain of it as
if I had.” He promised, however, to satisfy Sir Simon, that he would
go to Tottenham Court and see Miss Honey.
While Clide’s tongue was engaged on this absorbing topic, he was
mentally reverting to another subject which was scarcely less
absorbing, and which was closer to his heart. His love for Franceline
had not abated one atom of its ardor since absence and a far more
impassable gulf had parted him from her; her image reigned
supreme in his heart still, and accompanied him in his waking and
sleeping thoughts. He felt no compunction for this. His conscience
tendered full and unflinching allegiance to the letter of the moral
law, but it was in bondage to none of those finer spiritual tenets that
ruled and influenced Franceline. He would have cut off his right hand
rather than outrage her memory by so much as an unworthy
thought; but he gave his heart full freedom to retain and foster its
love for her. He had not her clear spiritual insight to discern the
sinfulness of this, any more than he had her deep inward strength to
enable him to crush the sin out of his heart, even if he had tried,
which he did not. It was his misfortune, not his fault, that his love
for her was unlawful. Nothing could make it guilty; that was in his
own power, and the purity of its object was its best protection. She
was an angel, and could only be worshipped with the reverent love
that one of her own pure kindred spirits might accept without
offence or contamination. Such was Clide’s code, and, if he wanted
any internal proof of his own loyalty to sanction it, he had it in the
shape of many deep-drawn sighs—prayers, he called them, and
perhaps they were—that Franceline might not suffer on his account,
but might forget him, and be happy after a time with some worthier
husband. He had been quite honest when he sighed these sighs—at
least he thought he was; yet when Sir Simon, meaning to console
him and make things smooth and comfortable, assured him
emphatically that they had been both happily mistaken in the nature
of Franceline’s feelings, and then basely and cruelly insinuated that
Ponsonby Anwyll was in a fair way to make her a good husband by
and by, Clide felt a pang more acute than any he had yet
experienced. This is often the case with us. We never know how
much insincerity there is in the best of our prayers—the anti-self
ones—until we are threatened with the grant of them.
Sir Simon said nothing about the stolen ring. His friendship for
Raymond partook of that strong personal feeling which made any
dishonor in its object touch him like a personal stain. He could not
bear even to admit it to himself that his ideal was destroyed. M. de
la Bourbonais had been his ideal of truth, of manly independence, of
everything that was noble, simple, and good. There are many
intervals in the scale that separates the ordinary honest man from
the ideal man of honor. Sir Simon could count several of the former
class; but he knew but one of the higher type. He had never known
any one whom he would have placed on the same pinnacle of
unsullied, impregnable honor with Raymond. Now that he had fallen,
it seemed as if the very stronghold of Sir Simon’s own faith had
surrendered; he could disbelieve everything, he could doubt
everybody. Where was truth to be found, who was to be trusted,
since Raymond de la Bourbonais had failed? But meantime he would
screen him as long as he could. He would not be the first to speak of
his disgrace to any one. He told Clide how Raymond had lost, for
him, a considerable sum of money recently, through the dishonesty
of a bank, and how he had borne the loss with the most incredible
philosophy, because just then it so happened he did not want the
money; but since then Franceline’s health had become very delicate,
and she was ordered to a warm climate, and these few hundreds
would have enabled him to take her there, and her father was now
bitterly lamenting the loss.
Clide was all excitement in a moment.
“But now you can supply them?” he cried. “Or rather let me do it
through you! I must not, of course, appear; but it will be something
to know I am of use to her—to both of them. You can easily manage
it, can you not? M. de la Bourbonais would make no difficulty in
accepting the service from you.”
“Humph! As ill-luck will have it, there is a coldness between us at
present,” said Sir Simon—“a little tiff that will blow off after a while
but meanwhile Bourbonais is as unapproachable as a porcupine. He’s
as proud as Lucifer at any time, and I fear there is no one but myself
from whom he would accept a service of the kind.”
“Could not Langrove manage it? They seemed on affectionate
terms,” said Clide.
“Oh! no, oh! no. That would never do!” said Sir Simon quickly. “I
don’t see any one at Dullerton but myself who could attempt it.”
“Well, but some one must, since you say you can’t,” argued Clide
with impatience. “When do you return to the Court?”
“I did not mean to return just yet a while. You see, I have a great
deal of business to look to—of a pleasant sort, thanks to you, my
dear boy, but still imperative and admitting of no delay. I can’t
possibly leave town until it has been settled.”
“I should have thought Simpson might have attended to it. I
suppose you mean legal matters?” said the young man with some
asperity. He could not understand Sir Simon’s being hindered by
mere business from sparing a day in a case of such emergency, and
for such a friend. It was unlike him to be selfish, and this was
downright heartlessness.
“Simpson? To be sure!” exclaimed the baronet jubilantly, starting
up and seizing his hat. “I will be off and see him this minute.
Simpson is sure to hit on some device; he’s never at a loss for
anything.”
TO BE CONTINUED.

THE STORY OF EVANGELINE IN PROSE.


I spare you M. Jourdain’s oft-quoted saying. Too often, I fear, I
successfully imitate the “Bourgeois Gentilhomme” in speaking prose
without knowing it—aye, at the very moment when I think to woo
the Muse most ardently. But great is the courage demanded to
announce a purpose to be prosaic—prosy, it may be—with
premeditation. Especially true is this when, as in the case before me,
the subject itself ranks high as poetry. Mr. Longfellow, in some of his
later writings, may seem to aim at, or does, perhaps, unconsciously
catch, that tone, made fashionable by the younger Victorian
songsters, which sets the poet apart as a being differing from his
kind, and makes him, as the English poet-laureate does, “born in a
golden clime”

“With golden stars above.”

But in his “Tale of Acadie” our American Wordsworth touches with


sympathetic finger the chords that vibrate with feeling in common
hearts. This is the lyre he sweeps with a magic sweetness not
excelled by any modern English poet. Evangeline is a poem of the
hearth and domestic love. That is to say, though it is true the
heroine and her betrothed never come together in one happy home,
the feelings described are such as might without shame beat
tenderly in any Christian maiden’s breast; such, too, as any husband
might wish his wife to feel. How different is this from the fierce
passion—a surrender to the lower nature—which burns and writhes
and contorts itself in Mr. Swinburne’s heroines! One is Christian Love,
the other the pagan brutishness of Juvenal’s Messalina. It may be
said indeed with truth that, in portraying a Catholic maiden and a
Catholic community, Mr. Longfellow has, with the intuition of genius,
reflected in this poem the purity and fidelity blessed by the church in
the love it sanctions. His admirers, therefore, cannot but regret that
debasing contact with the new school of the XIXth-century realism
which, in such an one of his later poems, for example, as that
entitled “Love,” draws him to the worship of the “languors” and
“kisses” of the Lucretian Venus. The love of Evangeline is that which
is affected by refined women in every society—humble though the
poet’s heroine be; the other strips the veil from woman’s weakness.
The charm of the poem is that it transports us to a scene
Arcadian, idyllic, yet which impresses us with its truthfulness to
nature. This is not Acadia only, but Arcadia. The nymphs, and the
shepherds and shepherdesses, and the god Pan with his oaten reed,
put off the stage costumes worn by them in the pages of Virgil or on
the canvas of Watteau, and, lo! here they are in real life in the
village of Grand Pré—Evangeline milking the kine, Gabriel
Lajeunesse, and Michael the fiddler, and the level Acadian meadows
walled in by their dykes from the turmoil of war that shook the world
all around them. The picture is truthful; but truthful rather by the
effect of the bold touches that befit the artist and poet than in the
multitude of details—some more prosaic, some not so charming—
which, massed together, make up the more faithful portrait of the
historian. The description of scenery in the poem confuses the
natural features of two widely-separated and different sections of
the country; the Evangeline of Grand Pré is not in all respects the
Acadian girl of Charlevoix or Murdock; the history of men and
manners on the shores of the Basin of Mines,[231] as depicted by the
poet, is sadly at variance with the angry, tumultuous, suspicious,
blood-stained annals of those settlements. Strange as it may seem,
the poem is truer of the Acadians of to-day, again living in Nova
Scotia, than of their expatriated forefathers. Remoteness of time did
not mean, in their case, a golden age of peace and plenty. Far from
it! It meant ceaseless war on the borders, the threats and intrigues
of a deadly national feud, the ever-present, overhanging doom of
exile, military tyranny, and constant English espionage. Now absolute
peace reigns within the townships still peopled by their descendants,
and the Acadian peasant and village maiden cling in silence and
undisturbed to the manners their fathers brought from Normandy
nearly three centuries ago.
The first few lines give the coloring to the whole poem. They are
the setting within which are grouped the characters.

“This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the


hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the
twilight,”

stand “like Druids of eld,” or “harpers hoar”;

“While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced neighboring


ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the
forest.”

This is the refrain running through the poem like the aria of the
“Last Rose of Summer” through Martha. Yet the picture conveyed to
the reader’s mind is that of the Atlantic coast of Acadia, or Nova
Scotia, not of the Basin of Mines, where Evangeline dwelt with her
people. The natural features of the two sections of country are
strikingly diverse. On the east coast of Nova Scotia rises a line of
granitic and other cliffs, sterile, vast, jagged, opposing their giant
shoulders to the roaring surges of the Atlantic. On the hills behind,
the pines and hemlocks rustle and murmur in answer to the waves.
This is the “forest primeval” and the “loud-voiced neighboring
ocean.” But on the west coast is quite another scene. The Basin of
Mines is an inland gulf of an inland sea—the Bay of Fundy. Here the
granite rocks and murmuring pines give place to red clay-banks and
overflowed marshes. And here is Horton, or Grand Pré. It is
separated by the whole breadth of the peninsula of Nova Scotia from
the ocean. The “mists from the mighty Atlantic,” which

“Looked on the happy valley, but ne’er from their station


descended,”

are in reality the fogs of the Bay of Fundy shut out by the North
Mountain. Instead of the long swell of the Atlantic breaking on a
rocky coast, we have in the Basin of Mines numerous small rivers
running through an alluvial country, with high clay-banks left bare by
the receding tide. This last feature of the scene is correctly described
by the poet; but it must be borne in mind that it is not united with
the natural features of the east coast. The Acadians never, in fact,
affected the Atlantic sea-board. They sailed shuddering past its
frowning and wintry walls, and, doubling Cape Sable, beat up the
Bay of Fundy to where the sheltered Basins of Port Royal and Mines
invited an entrance from the west. For over one hundred years after
the founding of Port Royal the Atlantic coast of Acadia remained a
waste. A fishing-village at Canseau on the north—a sort of stepping-
stone to and from the great fortress of Louisburg—and a few
scattered houses and clearings near La Tour’s first settlement alone
broke the monotonous silence of the wilderness. The Indian hunter
tracking the moose over the frozen surface of the snow, and some
half-solitary Irish and New England fishermen in Chebucto Bay,
divided the rest of the country between them. It was not until 1749
that Cornwallis landed his colonists at Halifax, and made the first
solid footing on the Atlantic coast. But for generations previously, in
the rich valley of the River of Port Royal, and along the fertile banks
of the streams flowing into the Basin of Mines—the Gaspereau, the
Canard, and the Pereau—the thrifty Acadians spread their villages,
built their churches, and were married and buried by the good
Recollect Fathers.
I was a lad scarce emancipated from college when I first visited
those scenes. I remember well my emotion when I drew my eyes
away from the landscape, and, turning to my companion, Father K
——, asked him if there were any remains of the old village of Grand
Pré. To my youthful imagination Evangeline was as real as the
people about me. Father K—— was the priest stationed at Kentville,
about ten miles distant from Grand Pré and the Gaspereau River,
which were included in his mission. He was an old family friend, and
I was going to spend the summer vacation with him. We were
driving from Windsor through Horton and Wolfville to Kentville,
passing on our road through all the scenes described in the poem. I
have often visited that part of the country since then, but never has
it made such an impression on me. The stage-coach then rolled
between Windsor and Kentville, and something of the rural simplicity
congenial with the poem was still felt to be around one. Last year I
rode by rail over the same ground, and later on another line of
railroad to Truro, and thence around the Basin of Mines on the north
through Cumberland. But my feelings had changed, or the whistle of
the locomotive was a sound alien to the memories of those green
meadows and intersecting dykes. Evangeline was no longer a being
to be loved, but a beautiful figment of the poet’s brain.
I don’t know to this day whether Father K—— was quizzing me, or
was loath to shatter my boyish romance, when he told me that there
were some old ruins which were said to be the home of Evangeline.
It is probable he was having a quiet joke at my expense, as he was
noted for his fund of humor, which I learned better to appreciate in
later years. Poor Father K——! He was a splendid type of the old
Irish missionary priest—an admirable Latinist; well read in English
literature, especially the Queen Anne poets; hearty, jovial, and could
tell a story that would set the table in a roar. And, withal, no priest
worked harder than he did in his wide and laborious mission, or was
a more tender-hearted friend of the poor and afflicted. He is since
dead.
During the month or six weeks I spent with Father K——, that part
of the country became quite familiar to me by means of his
numerous drives on parish duties, when I usually accompanied him.
Often, as the shades of the summer evening descended, have I
watched the mists across the Basin shrouding the bluff front of Cape
Blomidon—“Blow-me-down,” as it is more commonly called by the
country-folk. At other times we drove up the North Mountain, where
the

“Sea-fogs pitched their tents,”

and, standing there, I have looked down upon the distant glittering
waters of the Bay of Fundy.
On one occasion we rode over from Kentville to Wolfville, and then
up the Gaspereau, at the mouth of which

“The English ships at their anchors”

swung with the tide on the morning which ushered in the doom of
Grand Pré. We rode some distance up the valley to the house of a
Catholic farmer, and there put up for the day. It was the day on
which the elections took place for the House of Assembly. The
contest was fiercely conducted amid great popular excitement. One
of those “No-Popery” cries, fomented by an artful politician—which
sometimes sweep the colonies as well as the mother country—was
raging in the province. Father K—— left Kentville, the county town,
on that day to avoid all appearance of interference in the election,
and also to get away from the noise and confusion that pervaded
the long main street of the village. I can remember the news coming
up the Gaspereau in the evening how every one of the four
candidates opposed to Father K—— had been returned. But at that
time I paid little heed to politics, and during the day I wandered
down through the field to the river, and strolled along its willow-
fringed banks. Some of those willows were very aged, and might
have swung their long, slim wands and narrow-pointed leaves over
an Evangeline and a Gabriel a hundred years before. Those willows
were not the natural growth of the forest, but were planted there—
by whom? No remnant of the people that first tilled the valley was
left to say!
Riding home next day, a laughable incident, but doubtless
somewhat annoying to Father K——, occurred. Just as we were
about to turn a narrow bend of the road, suddenly we were
confronted by a long procession in carriages and all sorts of country
vehicles, with banners flying, men shouting, and everything to
indicate a triumphal parade. It was, in fact, a procession escorting
two of the “No-Popery” members elected the day before. The
position was truly rueful, but Father K—— had to grin and bear it.
There was no escape for us; we had to draw up at the side of the
road, and sit quietly in our single wagon until the procession passed
us. It was a very orderly and good-humored crowd, but there were a
good many broad grins, as they rode by, at having caught the portly
and generally popular priest in such a trap. Nothing would persuade
them, of course, but that he had been working might and main for
the other side during the election. Finally, as the tail of the
procession passed us, some one in the rear, more in humor than in
malice, sang out: “To h—ll with the Pope.” There was a roar of
laughter at this, during which Father K—— gathered up his reins,
and, saying something under his breath which I will not vouch for as
strictly a blessing, applied the whip to old Dobbin with an energy
that that respectable quadruped must have thought demanded
explanation.
Changed indeed was such a scene from those daily witnessed
when Father Felician,

“Priest and pedagogue both in the village,”

ruled over his peaceful congregation at the mouth of the Gaspereau.


It has been said in the beginning of this article that Evangeline,
the heroine and central figure of the poem, is not altogether true to
history as typical of the Acadian girl of that period, as seen in the
annals of Port Royal; and doubtless this assertion can be borne out
by the records. But, on second thoughts, it does appear, as it were,
a profanation to subject such a bright creation of the poet’s mind to
the analysis of history. As profitably might we set about converting
the diamond into its original carbon. The magical chemistry of
genius, as of nature, has in either case fused the dull and common
atoms into the sparkling and priceless jewel.
The stoutest champion of her sex will not, upon consideration,
contend that so absolutely perfect a creature as Evangeline is likely
to be found in any possible phase of society. Is not a spice of
coquetry inseparable from all women? Evangeline has none of it. She
is, too, too unconscious that her lover

“Watches for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow”

under the trees in the orchard. She is the heroine of an idyl—not,


indeed, of unreal Arthurian romance, but of that exalted and
passionless love which the virgin heart seeks, but afterwards
consoles itself for not finding. That ideal star does not shine upon
this world; but its divine rays fall softly upon many an unknown
heart in the cloister.
But it is incontestable that the Acadian maidens of Port Royal and
Mines shared in some of the agreeable frivolities which still, it is said,
sometimes distinguish their sisters in the world. They had an eye for
a military uniform and clanking spurs even in those “primeval” days.
It is a frequent complaint of the French governors to the home
authorities at Paris that their young officers were being continually
led into marriage with girls of the country “without birth,” and, worse
still, often “without money.” In the old parish register of Annapolis
can be seen more than one entry of the union of a gallant ensign or
captain to a village belle from the inland settlements whose visit to
the Acadian metropolis had subjugated the Gallic son of Mars. Nor
was the goddess of fashion altogether without a shrine in close
contiguity to the “murmuring pines and the hemlocks.” Some of the
naval and military officers sent for their wives from Paris or Quebec,
and these fine ladies brought their maids with them. This is not a
supposition, but a fact which can be verified by reference to the
letters of M. des Goutins and others in the correspondence of the
time. Imagine a Parisian soubrette of the XVIIIth century in the
village of Grand Pré! It is a shock to those who derive their
knowledge of Acadie from Mr. Longfellow’s poem; but those who are
familiar with the voluminous records of the day, preserved in the
provincial archives, are aware of a good many stranger things than
that related in them. Since Evangeline was published the Canadian
and Nova Scotian governments have done much to collect and edit
their records, and they are now accessible to the student. Rightly
understood, there is no reason why the flood of light thus thrown
upon the lives of the Acadians should detract anything from our
admiration for that simple and kindly race. They were not faultless;
but the very fact that they shared in the common interests, and even
foibles, of the rest of the world gives that tone of reality to their
history which makes us sympathize with them more justly in the
cruel fate that overtook them. Yet, in depicting the young Acadian
girl of that period as he has done, the poet has but idealized the
truth. The march of the history of her people aids him in making the
portrait a faithful one. Had he placed the time a little earlier—that is
to say, under the French-Acadian régime—and his heroine at
Annapolis, his poem could not have borne the criticism of later
research. But in selecting the most dramatic incident of Acadian
history as the central point of interest, he has necessarily shifted the
scene to one of the Neutral French settlements. Here, too, he is
aided in maintaining the truthfulness of his portraiture by the fact
that the English conquest, in depriving the Acadians of the right of
political action, and cutting them off as much as possible from
intercourse with Canada and France, had thrown them back upon
rural occupations alone, and developed their simple virtues. Mines
and Chignecto had been noted for their rustic independence and
their manners uncorrupted by contact with the world, even under
the old régime. One of the military governors of Port Royal
complains of them as “semi-republicans” in a letter to the Minister of
Marine and Colonies at Paris. After the conquest of 1710, intercourse
with Annapolis and its English Government House and foreign
garrison became even more restricted. No oath of allegiance being
taken to the new government, the curé was recognized both by the
inhabitants and the Annapolis government as their virtual ruler.
Under the mild sway of Fathers Felix, Godalie, and Miniac—in turn
curés of Mines—the Acadians sought to forget in the cultivation of
their fields the stern military surveillance of Annapolis, and, later,
Fort Edwards and Fort Lawrence. Father Miniac comes latest in time,
and shared the misfortunes of his flock in their expulsion. But in
Father Godalie, the accomplished scholar and long-loved friend of
the people of Grand Pré, we seem best to recognize the “Father
Felician” of Mr. Longfellow’s poem. He was a guide well fitted to form
the lovely character of Evangeline; nor do the authentic records of
the time bear less ample testimony to the virtue of his people than
the glowing imagination of the poet.
It is less in the delineation of individual character than in its
description of the undisturbed peace reigning at Grand Pré that the
poem departs most from the truth of history. The expulsion of 1755
was not a thunderbolt in a clear sky descending upon a garden of
Eden. It was a doom known to be hanging over them for forty years.
Its shadow, more or less threatening for two generations, was
present in every Acadian household, disabling industry and driving
the young men into service or correspondence with their French
compatriots. Space would not permit, in so short a paper, to enter
into the history of that desperate struggle for supremacy on this
continent ending on the heights of Abraham, isolated chapters of
which have been narrated with a graphic pen by Mr. Francis
Parkman. Acadie was one of its chosen battlegrounds. So far from
the Acadians living in rural peace and content, it may be said broadly
yet accurately that from the date of their first settlement to their
final expulsion from the country, during a period extending over one
hundred and fifty years, five years had never passed consecutively
without hostilities, open or threatened. The province changed
masters, or was wholly or partially conquered, seven times in a little
over one hundred years, and the final English conquest, so far from
establishing peace, left the Acadians in a worse position than before.
They refused to take the oath of allegiance to the English
government; the French government was not able to protect them,
though it used them to harass the English.
They acquired, therefore, by a sort of tacit understanding, the title
and position of the “Neutral French,” the English government simply
waiting from year to year until it felt itself strong enough to remove
them en masse from the province, and the Acadians yearly
expecting succor from Quebec or Louisburg. Each party regarded the
other as aliens and enemies. Hence it is that no French-Acadian
would ever have used the words “his majesty’s mandate”—applied to
George II.—as spoken by Basil the blacksmith in the poem. That
single expression conveys a radically false impression of the feelings
of the people at the time. The church at Mines, or Grand Pré, from
the belfry of which

“Softly the Angelus sounded,”

had been burned down twice by the English and its altar vessels
stolen by Col. Church in the old wars. Nor had permanent conquest,
as we have said, brought any change for the better. The curés were
frequently imprisoned on pretext of exciting attacks on the English
garrisons, and sometimes, as in the case of Father Felix and Father
Charlemagne, were exiled from the province. In 1714 the intention
was first announced of transporting all the Acadians from their
homes. It was proposed to remove them to Cape Breton, still held
by the French. The pathetic remonstrance of Father Felix Palm, the
curé of Grand Pré, in a letter and petition to the governor, averted
this great calamity from his people at that time. But the project was
again revived by the English Board of Trade, 1720-30. In pursuance
of its orders, Gov. Philipps issued a proclamation commanding the
people of Mines to come in and take the oath of allegiance by a
certain day, or to depart forthwith out of the province, permitting, at
the same time—a stretch of generosity which will hardly be
appreciated at this day—each family to carry away with it “two
sheep,” but all the rest of their property to be confiscated. This
storm also blew over. But the result of this continual harassment and
threatening was to drive the Acadians into closer correspondence
with the French at Louisburg, and to cause their young men to enlist
in the French-Canadian forces on the frontier. In view of this aid and
comfort given to the enemy, and their persistent refusal to take the
oath of allegiance, later English writers have not hesitated to declare
the removal of the Acadians from the province a political and military
necessity. But the otherwise unanimous voice of humanity has
unequivocally denounced their wholesale deportation as one of the
most cruel and tyrannical acts in the colonial history of England. We
are not to suppose, however, that the Acadians folded their hands
while utter ruin was thus threatening them. In 1747 they joined in
the attack on Col. Noble’s force at Mines, in which one hundred of
the English were killed and wounded, and the rest of his command
made prisoners. They were accused, not without some show of
reason, of supporting the Indians in their attack on the new
settlement at Halifax. It is admitted that three hundred of them,
including many of the young men from Grand Pré, were among the
prisoners taken at Fort Beau Sejour on the border a few months
before their expulsion. It is not our purpose to enter into any
defence or condemnation of those hostilities. But it is plain that Mr.
Longfellow’s beautiful lines describing the columns of pale blue
smoke, like clouds of incense, ascending

“From a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and


contentment,”

“free from fear, that reigns with the tyrant, or envy, the vice of
republics,” were not applicable to the condition of affairs at Grand
Pré in 1755, nor at any time.
The poem follows with fidelity the outlines of the scenes of the
expulsion. Heart-rending indeed is the scene, as described even by
those who were agents in its execution. The poet gives almost
verbatim the address of Col. John Winslow in the chapel.
Nevertheless one important clause is omitted. Barbarous as were the
orders of Gov. Lawrence, he was not absolutely devoid of humanity.
Some attempt was made to lessen the pangs of separation from
their country by the issuing of orders to the military commanders
that “whole families should go together on the same transport.”
These orders were communicated with the others to the inhabitants
by Col. Winslow, and it appears, they were faithfully executed as far
as the haste of embarkation would permit. But as the young men
marched separately to the ships, and some of them escaped for a
time into the woods, there was nothing to prevent such an incident
occurring as the separation of Evangeline and Gabriel.
About seven thousand (7,000) Acadians, according to Gov.
Lawrence’s letter to Col. Winslow, were transported from their
homes. The total number of these unfortunate people in the
province at that time has been estimated at eighteen thousand. The
destruction was more complete at Grand Pré than elsewhere, that
being the oldest settlement, with the exception of Annapolis, and the
most prosperous and thickly settled. A few years later another
attempt was made to transfer the remainder of the Acadian
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and


personal growth!

ebookmass.com

You might also like