Peeps at Many Lands: Canada

The cause of the intense sorrow, rage, and despair which seized the inhabitants of this happy and prosperous community on the day mentioned was a proclamation of the British Governor. The countries of France and England had long been at war together, and for many years hostilities had waged with more or less bitterness between the colonists of the two countries settled in America. The Acadians were accused of having lent assistance in provisions and ammunition to the French at the siege of Beauséjour. It was resolved to punish them for their disloyal conduct, for they were at that time subjects of the King of England. Accordingly, all the men were suddenly seized and put into prison, and the women and children were ordered to gather, with their household effects, on the seashore. Then, despite their weeping and their grief, they were put on board the vessels of war, and taken away to the other British colonies in America all the way from the New England States to Jamaica. It is the fate of certain villagers of Grand Pré, who were taken away from their homes at this time, that Longfellow tells us about in his beautiful poem of "Evangeline."

"In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-PréLay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.Dikes, that the hands of the farmer had raised with labour incessant,Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gatesOpened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards, and cornfields,Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northwardBlomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountainsSea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty AtlanticLooked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended.There, in the midst of its farm, reposed the Acadian village.Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chestnut.Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.Thatched were the roofs, with dormer windows; and gables projectingOver the basement below protected and shaded the door-way.There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunsetLighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,Matrons and maids sat in snow-white caps and in kirtlesScarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the goldenFlax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doorsMingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs            of the maidens.Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the childrenPaused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them.Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons and maidens,Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome.Then came the labourers home from the field, and serenely the sun sankDown to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfrySoftly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the villageColumns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending,Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment.Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers —Dwelt in the love of God and of man."

No wonder, then, there was lamentation and weeping and woe when these poor people were torn so cruelly away from the homes where they had been so happy! Where, indeed, can you find a more beautiful picture of human happiness, peace, and contentment than this Acadian village of Grand-Pré?

A few years later the places of these unfortunate Acadians were taken by strangers from the British colonies farther south and from the Motherland.

CHAPTER XVI

REDSKIN, ESKIMO, AND CHINK

One day two gentlemen were driving by the side of a small but beautiful inland lake, when they met a little, shrivelled old man, with a forward tilt of the body, a lurching, shuffling gait, and a parchment-like wrinkled skin. Met! Yes, but when the odd-looking little man caught sight of the rig or vehicle approaching, he hastily turned off the road, and passed the conveyance at a good distance away. Yet as he passed he never once lifted his head.

This behaviour excited the curiosity of one of the gentlemen, a stranger, and he asked his companion: "Who's that odd-looking figure?"

"Ah! I don't wonder at your asking that? He's an old Indian. For years he has haunted the shores of this lake. Every summer he has attacks of fever or some such illness, and when he feels them coming on he goes away from the reserve in which his own people live and makes himself a hut of the branches of trees beside the lake, in a lonely spot where nobody can see him, and there he remains until he recovers, and never speaks to a single individual all the time he is here."

Now, this poor old Indian is typical of his race. The Indian, the glorified Redskin of Fenimore Cooper as well as the fierce Indian of the Western Plains, whom Mayne Reid has made familiar to English readers, is rapidly dying out. As a race, the North American Indian is as decrepit, as sad, and as dejected a creature as the poor old man who sought healing beside the lake. In Canada the Indians are fairly numerous in certain parts; but they are very little seen in the cities and towns of the white man. You may catch a fleeting glimpse of one or two at some wayside station, come to offer moccasins, gloves, purses, deer's horns, or other curios for sale to the passing traveller; but it is not until the Indian is spoken to that the traveller hears the sound of his voice, and even then the native may not open his lips, but will content himself with using the language of signs.

The Indians nearly all live in "reserves" – that is, tracts of land which the Government gives to them, and off which it keeps all white men. The reserve is meant for the Indian alone, and he is allowed to till it and do what he pleases with it. The Government also gives him help in providing him with food. The Indians do, however, make a little by hunting, earning bounties on the slaying of harmful wild beasts, or selling venison and deer's horns to white settlers. Then, again, in certain districts they help to gather strawberries in the middle of the summer, and in other districts pick hops towards the autumn, or fall, as the Canadians call that season. The full phrase – which, however, is never used – would be "the season of the fall of the leaf."

A missionary who laboured in the Far North of Canada once astonished, and yet deeply interested, a small company of listeners by describing his own strange wedding.

"After we came out of church," he said, "we both got ready for our honeymoon journey. When we were dressed, you could hardly have told the bride from the bridegroom. We were both wrapped up in furs from top to toe, so that the only part of our persons which could be seen was just round the eyes, and over the eyes we both wore large coloured goggles, to protect them against the dazzling snows.

"Well, we got into our sleigh, wrapped our fur aprons and rugs well round us, said good-bye to our nearest white neighbours, and after I had gathered up the reins and cracked my long whip over our team of fourteen dogs, off we started on our 200 mile drive!"

The people this devoted couple were going to live and work amongst were the Eskimo, a people who live all the year round amongst the Arctic snow and ice. These folk are another, though not a very numerous, element in the population of Canada.

Besides these two races – the Redskins and the Eskimo – there are two, or rather three, other races now dwelling in Canada who have not white skins. These are Hindus, Chinese, and Japanese. They are found chiefly in the West, in the province of British Columbia. The people of that province object strongly to the presence of all three races, and if only they were able to do it, they would sweep every man Jack of them into the ocean.

At first the Chinese came into the province without restriction, and they began to arrive in such large numbers that the Government of the province grew alarmed. With the view of checking them, the authorities imposed a head-tax on every Chinaman who landed, and went on increasing the amount until it reached no less a sum than £100 per head. This large tax is paid for the Chinese immigrants by wealthy fellow-countrymen already settled in the country, and known as tyees. These men determine the wages at which the immigrants shall work, and then they themselves pocket a certain proportion of each man's wages! The slang names for a Chinaman are Chink and Celestial.

Again, both the Japanese and the Hindus began to arrive in much larger numbers than the white men of the province liked, and in some large towns the dislike to them culminated in riots and fierce attacks upon them, especially upon the Japanese in Vancouver.

At last the Government of Canada succeeded in securing a promise from the Government of Japan that not more than a certain number of Japs should be permitted to land in Canada every year. The Hindus the provincial authorities were not able to prevent from coming, or even to restrict their numbers. They, too, were British subjects, and consequently free to come and go in any and all parts of the British Empire.