In an age when instant communication is taken for granted, it’s hard to imagine a time when news could take months, even years, to reach a final destination. During the 18th and 19th centuries a number of experiments were undertaken to speed up the process. One of the earliest was known as semaphore. This involved sending messages by holding flags in certain positions according to an alphabetic code. Many people wondered: Could semaphore be used to relay messages long distances overland?

In the early 1800’s, the British military commander in the Maritimes, Prince Edward, Duke of Kent, thought so; and ordered the building of a semaphore link between Halifax and Fredericton. As it turned out, uncertain Maritime weather, and the Duke’s return to England doomed the enterprise. But more important, semaphore was quickly overtaken by other, more efficient, means of communication. Today, the only reminders of this early effort are a few isolated place names on the map of New Brunswick; for example, Telegraph Hill and Telegraph Brook.

Just over a century later, the advent of radio was destined to bring the province into the field of global communication. By the late 1930’s, the storm clouds of World War Two were on the horizon. The BBC, which formed a model for the CBC, had already established a successful international service. It was clear that Canada would not be far behind, as the propaganda value of radio became apparent.

As early as 1937 a proposal was put forward calling for a CBC short wave station. Moreover, there is evidence that the British were anxious to see such facilities in Canada; in case of possible war damage to their own transmitters. On September 18, 1942 the creation of an international service was formally approved by the federal government.

Although wartime shortages of equipment hampered progress, the location of the new short wave station was never in doubt. There were two basic requirements. A location had to be selected sufficiently far east to lessen interference from the magnetic North Pole. To cut costs, it was expected that the facility would be built on land already owned by the CBC.

All signs pointed to Cole’s Island on the Tantramar, site of CBA Maritimes. Further, by this time CBA had earned a reputation for clear reception. It’s long wave broadcasts had been picked up from as far away as Bermuda and the UK. The upgrading of facilities to accommodate short wave transmission began in 1944. This included the erection of a new building, two transmitters and three directional antenna curtains.

At the same time studios and program offices were set up in Montreal. Hundreds of miles of especially balanced telephone lines had to be leased to carry programs from Montreal to Sackville. On Dec. 19, 1944 construction on the Tantramar site was completed and the first short wave test broadcast successfully made.

A few weeks later, C. W. Moffatt, editor of the Sackville Tribune visited the new short wave station. His enthusiasm was apparent: Last Thursday, Feb. 15th, I stepped from the historic Tantramar Marsh into a new world, as unrelated to the background of the Isthmus of Chignecto, as this planet is from Mars. We are now… in instantaneous communication with the rest of the world.

On Feb 26, 1945 at 4 pm ADT, with the words This Is Canada Calling the country’s new short wave radio station, CHTA was on the air. There then followed congratulatory remarks in English from the Prime Minister, Mackenzie King, and in French, by the Minister of Justice, Louis St. Laurent. Both messages were relayed from Ottawa for broadcast over CHTA. Canada’s international short wave service was born.

Initially, programming was largely directed toward Europe. News, especially for Canadian service personnel overseas, light entertainment and drama predominated. Later, as the war drew to a close, documentaries, round table discussions, special events and on location broadcasts were added.

As the international service expanded, the quality of programming and excellent reception soon drew a world wide audience. A listener in Punta Arenas, on the Straits of Magellen, in Chile wrote: The reception here is much stronger than the BBC, twice as strong as any short wave station in the USA, and better than local long wave transmissions.

The maintainence of an international short wave service is an expensive proposition. Annually, when CBC estimates are debated in Parliament there are calls for trimming or even eliminating the budget for RCI. Those opposed are seemingly unaware of the important social, economic and cultural benefits that flow from short wave radio. They overlook, that everyday, RCI brings notice of Canada, and all things Canadian, to listeners world wide. It is significant that if either of the two recent attempts to close RCI had succeeded, Canada would be left as the only G-7 nation without an international radio service!

Unfortunately, even people who live close to the carnival of lights on the Tantramar are often unaware of their importance. Since few Canadians listen to short wave programs, the full impact of the international service (or Radio Canada International as it became in 1972) is not readily apparent. Having lived overseas, I can testify to the value and significance of this short wave link with home. Today, thousands of Canadian citizens and particularly Canadian service personnel on peacekeeping duties, may be found all over the world. Thanks to RCI they are able to keep in touch.

During the past month Tantramar Flashback has featured a salute to the carnival of lights on the Marsh. Each day, for sixty years, since April 8, 1939, Cole’s Island on the Tantramar, has been front and centre, first in national and later international radio broadcasting. Long may it continue!

Many readers will have guessed that Tantramar Flashbacks are often written well in advance of publication. When I checked the calendar and noted the projected publication date for this week, my topic was settled. Could there be a better place than Victoria, British Columbia, to reflect on the significance of this date?

Any visitor to Victoria, especially in springtime, is tempted to extol it’s natural beauty. This point was made by a recent cartoon in the Times-Colonist. It depicted a tourist gazing at a magnificent cherry tree in full bloom. Speaking to a bystander, the tourist says: I just love the blossoms in Victoria. And what is the name of that tree? The local person replies: It’s a Makus Easternfriends Jealousi.

The second temptation is to comment on the blood sport known locally as provincial politics. However, no self respecting Maritimer would dare do so. It’s true that British Columbia has had a long record of the bizarre in politics; however, a little dose of history is sufficient to quiet even the most vocal Maritimer. Not only have we had our share of political scandals; there have been some interesting links with this region.

It all began with one Will Smith (1825-1897), who was largely responsible for the British Columbia’s entry into Confederation. He became its second premier, and is better known under his assumed name, Amor de Cosmos, or lover of the universe. A provocative journalist by profession, it has to be recalled that the eccentric Premier Amor de Cosmos, was a native of Windsor, Nova Scotia.

New Brunswick has to bear some responsibility for the Wacky regime of the Bennett’s — father and son. W.A.C. Bennett, British Columbia’s Premier from 1952 until 1972, came originally from Hastings Hill, near Alma in Albert County. His son, William Bennett also served as Premier from 1975 until 1986. The Bennett’s, descendants of a prominent New England Planter family, can also claim relationship with an occasionally eccentric federal politician — Prime Minister R. B. Bennett. But enough politics for now!

Originally, this day commemorated the actual birthdate of Queen Victoria on May 24th, 1819. In recent years, the holiday has been moved to the fourth Monday of the month and is variously known as the Queen’s Birthday, Commonwealth Day or sometimes Victoria Day. In Québec it is celebrated as Fete de Dollard.

In the year 2000, the holiday might also be called Cottage Opening Day. Many readers are probably still nursing sore muscles as a result of fulfilling this task last weekend. By late May, even in the Maritimes, it’s safe to once again prime the pump, turn on the water and sweep away the cobwebs of winter. Spring we hope, is here at last, and we can look forward to another summer at the cottage.

All these changes notwithstanding, it’s worthwhile to take an historical look at a most remarkable period, the Victorian Age. Certainly we have reminders all around us. A search reveals that no other monarch is more frequently sketched on the place name canvas, not only of New Brunswick, but of Victoria’s other realms and territories around the world.

In common with Nova Scotia, and both Quebec and Ontario, New Brunswick has a Victoria County. Within the province there is a Victoria Beach (Queens); Victoria Corner (Carleton); Victoria Deadwater (Charlotte); and Victoria Lake (Charlotte). In addition, two place names once on the map, are no longer in use: Victoria Mills (York) and Victoria Settlement (Sunbury).

Then there is the revival of interest in Victorian architecture, furnishings and antiques. Look around Sackville, Dorchester, Port Elgin or Amherst and you will find examples of High Victorian style homes that have been carefully restored and painted in the dramatic colours characteristic of that day. The detailed fretwork and gingerbread with their vibrant browns, yellows, pinks and various hues of grey, stand out on any streetscape.

Many of these homes feature furniture of the same period. Their walls are papered in varied motifs, and heavily upholstered love seats and wing chairs abound. There’s even a revival in Victorian plumbing fixtures! No Victorian household would be complete without it’s herb garden and this too has caught on. Check out local nursery suppliers this spring and note their displays of perennial herbs. Try some… you’ll be glad you did. The majority are easy to grow and essential to many recipes.

While mentioning some positive aspects of Victoriana, I’m aware that many people do not appreciate the heavy and sometimes dazzling style of that era. Further, for others, Victorian achievements are overshadowed by a preoccupation with propriety, or even downright prudishness.

This covered all aspects of society from general lifestyle to literature; from social behaviour to art. One example will suffice. This was the age when parlour table legs were draped in heavy floor length cloth, so that peoples sensibilities might not be offended!

Other critics will point out that this was the so-called golden age of Imperialism. While Britannia did indeed rule the waves; it brought with it a heavy price. No one should turn a blind eye to this aspect of the Victorian period. However, let’s not judge it by the social standards of our own day. Even in 2000 there are still forms of imperialism that call for eradication.

Now back to where this all started — Victoria, BC. The local tourist authorities play up the English connection for all it is worth. From high tea at the Empress Hotel to cricket, croquet and lawn bowling; from beautifully manicured gardens to Craigdarroch and Hatley Castles. The latter two, I hasten to add, were built by the Scottish Dunsmuir family.

Perhaps the Englishness of Victoria was best exemplified by a concert given by the city’s excellent Symphony Orchestra. Under the baton of conductor Brian Jackson, a native English musician, who came to the city via London Ontario, the orchestra re-enacted The Last Night of the Proms. This program takes place every summer at Royal Albert Hall in London, England. Whenever it is held, the concert always ends with the orchestra playing and audience singing Rule Britannia and Jerusalem. I can verify that the rafters were ringing the night we attended The Proms in the Royal Theatre, Victoria BC.

While the Englishness of Victoria helped reinforce the significance of May 24th, it must be emphasized that the city has much else to offer the visitor. Capitalizing on a superb location, it’s outlook in the year 2000 and beyond, is firmly fixed, not on old England, but on the Pacific Rim.

Over the past two years several Tantramar Flashbacks have resulted from reader contacts. Equally important, many both within the region and beyond continue to keep in touch on a regular basis. I welcome this input; it’s the very life blood of the column. Keep the telephone calls, letters and e-mails coming!

A number have been generous enough to go beyond personal contact and correspondence. They have loaned items of family memorabilia, scrapbooks, diaries and letters. Others have accepted the suggestion that they look twice before recycling or trashing old papers, documents and records. A few weeks ago a grocery bag filled with such items was delivered to our back door. The donor (who wishes to remain anonymous) said: Have a look at these… If they’re of no use, get rid of them. I don’t want them back.

As it turned out, only a few of the old newspapers were of historical value. Some interesting articles and clippings were set aside for later filing. I then turned the bag upside down, as something was caught on the bottom. Out fell two rolls of parchment tied together with rubber bands. Hastily unwrapping the bundles, I discovered, to my surprise and delight, a set of legal documents dating from 1784. This find immediately suggested today’s column.

But first, some background to set the stage for the entrance of the mysterious Mary Cannon. In the 18th century much of the land on the Isthmus of Chignecto and adjacent areas was in the hands of absentee landlords. Two in particular became well known — Michael Francklin and J. F. W. DesBarres. It was Francklin who, in seeking tenants and buyers for his extensive properties, was largely responsible for encouraging the Yorkshire migration to this region, There will be more on his career in a later Flashback.

J. F. W. DesBarres saw service as an army officer, military engineer, surveyor and lieutenant governor of both Cape Breton and Prince Edward Island. Along the way he managed to accumulate land holdings in the Petitcodiac-Memramcook area of New Brunswick and at Nappan-Maccan, Tatamagouche and Falmouth in Nova Scotia. It was at the latter location that he built his colonial home which he named Castle Frederick.

Because of DesBarres busy career he was frequently absent from Castle Frederick. One major achievement, surveying and mapping much of the coastline of the region extended over a decade; while the two terms as lieutenant governor required residence in Sydney and Charlottetown. Interspersed were frequent trips to London to visit his family, and maintain business and political interests. His wife, Martha Williams and their eleven children, stayed behind in London. She did not join her husband overseas until much later in his career.

Juggling all these responsibilities was no easy task and DesBarres was forced to delegate administration of his estates to someone else. But who would this be? In a move almost without precedence in the late eighteenth century, he turned to a woman, one Mary Cannon. To her he granted the power of attorney, the collection of all rents and general oversight of his vast landholdings. It was her name that caught my eye on the documents that tumbled from the grocery bag.

Briefly stated the defendants, two local farmers, were in arrears to the DesBarres estate. In the words of the writ: they were indebted to the said Mary Cannon in the sum of twenty two pounds fifteen shillings and six pence in lawful money of New Brunswick for divers goods, wares, and merchandise… sold and delivered by the said Mary Cannon to the defendants. She also sought to recover damages of fifteen pounds and one penny. Court costs were assessed at four pounds five shillings and ten pence.

Of interest were the other actors in the legal drama played out in the Westmorland Point court room on August 13, 1784. Mary Cannon was represented by her lawyer Amos Botsford (1744–1812) a recent Loyalist settler in the area. Well qualified for the task, Botsford was a graduate of Yale and had been called to the bar in Connecticut before fleeing to New Brunswick. The two presiding judges were our well beloved James Law and Charles Dixon, Judges of the Inferior Court of Common Pleas.

Unfortunately, we do not have the outcome of the trial as not all of the pertinent documents survived. This is unimportant, for today’s focus is on Mary Cannon and not the court case. By now, it should be evident that Polly as she was affectionately known, was more than an employee of DesBarres. In eighteenth century wording, Mary Cannon was described variously as his housekeeper or companion and sometimes more grandly as the chatelaine of Castle Frederick. It is also on record that they had a family of six children.

For many years Mary Cannon appeared to fulfill her two roles diligently. Hers was a difficult task, as the status of women in the workplace was far different from today. She was also answerable to an individual whom one historian described as: possessed of an abrasive personality; at times impatient and quarrelsome.

1784 marked a turning point in their relationship. The year saw New Brunswick created as a colony separate from Nova Scotia. All land holders were required to register their properties with the new colonial administration in Fredericton. For some unaccountable reason, DesBarres failed to do so. This oversight was to embroil him in numerous lawsuits against squatters on his New Brunswick lands. Later, he was to place unfairly, total blame for this oversight on Mary Cannon.

By this time, DesBarres had begun to ignore Cannon’s regular written reports on the estates. Her letters and requests for expenses went unanswered and it became clear that the arrangement between the two was falling apart. The same year also saw his assumption of the post as lieutenant governor of Cape Breton. To further complicate matters, Martha Williams appeared in Sydney as the lieutenant governor’s wife and consort.

Most accounts credit Cannon with shrewdness and capability in business affairs; however, she received little or no support, financial or otherwise, from DesBarres. Although shabbily treated, Mary Cannon was not entirely blameless. As time went on she became obsessed with attempts to find financial security for her children. Further her dalliance with an Irish labourer on the estate at Castle Frederick provided certain fuel for gossip. Although outliving DesBarres by three years, Mary Cannon died in poverty at Castle Frederick on October 7, 1827.

Following completion of his term as lieutenant governor of Prince Edward Island in 1812, DesBarres lived near Amherst until he retired to Halifax in 1817. To celebrate his 100th birthday, it is claimed that Desbarres danced a jig upon a table top. He died on October 27, 1824. At a time when the average life span was 60, DesBarres had reached the incredible age of 102. He and his wife Martha Williams lie buried in the crypt under St. George’s Anglican Church, Halifax.

Of Mary Cannon, her biographer has concluded: She reaped bitter rewards for her hard work, but there was a measure of justice in the fact that DesBarres heirs, succeeding to his vast colonial properties, soon squabbled away a legacy they could neither comprehend or control.

People who live within sight and sound of the Mount Allison campus can note the passing seasons even without a calendar. The comparative silence of late spring and summer comes to an abrupt end with the arrival of each new freshman class. This event is followed soon after by the first football game of the season, and the next and the next… Was autumn in Sackville always so?

To find out, I spent a fascinating afternoon interviewing Mount Allison’s Mr Football, David MacAulay — the man for whom MacAulay Field is so appropriately named. Following a quick review of last year’s football season and prospects for a possible crack at the Vanier Cup in 1998, we got down to business.

To be frank, I steered our conversation to football games of seasons past; to the glory days of English Rugby, when Mount Allison teams competed annually for Maritime championships. I was not to be disappointed, as David was happy to reminisce about football experiences dating from his student days as manager of the varsity team.

Since David is a native Cape Bretoner, we started with a memorable exhibition game in Glace Bay between Mount Allison and the renowned Caledonia Rugby team. On the morning of the game Dave made arrangements for the Mounties to tour a coal mine. Little did they realize that the burly miners they met underground would be their opponents on the field that afternoon! David summarized the experience: The boys learned a lot of football — the score was Caledonia 14, Mt.A 0.

With detail and precision he then went on to recall highlights of the sport at Mount Allison in the early 1930s. I learned, very quickly, that Rugby Football was once a major inter-collegiate sport. Not only was there intense rivalry; bad blood even, between institutions, special trains were required to take student fans to the away games in Halifax, Truro, Wolfville, Antigonish and Fredericton.

Rival supporters also arrived in Sackville by special train, and would parade through town to the playing field. Should readers have remembrances associated with these famous football train trips, I would be glad to hear from you. Dave revealed just enough to make me curious. If necessary, confidentiality can be guaranteed!

He also mentioned that by 1933 varsity teams started travelling by automobile. It must be remembered that in the early thirties, paved roads were the exception and secondary roads could become impassible following a heavy rain. Such were the conditions as the Mount Allison team left early on an October Thursday, for a game against UNB.

Enroute to Fredericton, it was unwisely decided to take a shortcut. David recalled: Somewhere near Salisbury, disaster came upon us. For many trying hours the cars were literally stranded in the mud. Local people took pity on the players and they were billeted overnight in nearby farm homes. He concluded: We enjoyed the hospitality and food; but that was about all.

Although the Saint John newspapers headlined the escapade LOST — ONE MOUNT ALLISON FOOTBALL TEAM the players did reach Fredericton in time for the game on Saturday afternoon. It resulted in a scoreless tie; which caused the Argosy reporter to write: If not in the lead, at least we were on even terms with our old rivals.

Redemption came the following week when a second game was played in Sackville; ending in a 9-3 score in favor of Mt. A. With this win, came the New Brunswick championship and a chance to play against the Acadia Axemen, Nova Scotia champions.

The game with Acadia was scheduled for the Halifax Wanderer’s Grounds in mud and water ankle deep. It also ended in a scoreless tie. A deciding game was played the following day on neutral snow-covered turf in Truro. David described the conclusion of the game as follows: With two minutes remaining and the score Acadia 6, Mt A 3; a scrum was called near the Acadia goal posts. Our player, Bob Brodie, booted a drop kick over the bar for four points! We’d won the Maritime championship!

Years later, David met Fred Kelly, Acadia’s legendary rugby coach. Inevitably the conversation turned to November 20th, 1933 and the game just described. As David recalled their meeting: The always unemotional Coach Kelly was seen to shed a tear. Of such were the football legends of yesterday!

Anyone who dips into the history of the Tantramar region, will soon encounter the long shadow of Dr. John Clarence Webster. Even after the passage of a half century, his writing and research remain among the most authoritative interpretations of local history. Who was this man? Why was he remarkable?

Born on Oct. 21, 1863 in Shediac, the son of James Webster and Roslin Elizabeth Chapman; he was to die there, eighty-six years later, on March 16, 1950. He graduated from Mount Allison University with a BA degree in 1882. Forsaking arts for the time being, he decided to study medicine. Accepted by Edinburgh University; Webster graduated with a BM (Bachelor of Medicine) and MS (Master in Surgery) in 1888. His MD was awarded shortly afterward.

Following studies in Berlin, and a period of surgical practice in Edinburgh, Webster decided to make the latter city his home. Almost at once, he gained a reputation in his chosen specialty, obstetrics and gynecology; producing four major books and numerous articles between 1890 and 1896. Unfortunately, ill health forced him to reduce this hectic pace and he returned to Canada. New appointments followed at the Royal Victoria Hospital and McGill medical faculty in Montreal. During this period, Dr. Webster assisted with the formation of the Jubilee Nursing Scheme; later to become the Victorian Order of Nurses. However, his international fame was such, that in late 1899, a call from the prestigious Rush Medical School in Chicago lured him to the United States. Here he remained for twenty years, engaged in teaching and research at Rush; and in surgery at the Chicago Presbyterian Hospital, where he was chief obstetrician and gynecologist.

On the personal side, in 1899, Webster married Alice Kessler Lusk (1880–1953), daughter of a well known New York physician, Dr. William Lusk and his wife Jean Myer Lusk. Unhappily, their marriage was to be stalked by a series of tragedies The eldest son, John C. Webster Jr., (1901–1931), an avid amateur pilot, died in a plane crash near Montreal. Their daughter, Janet Webster (1900–1944), married a French artist, Camille Roche, and was living in France during the Second World War. Interned for allegedly assisting the resistance movement; she was to die in Ravensbruck concentration camp, Germany.

Their second son, Dr. William Lusk Webster (1903–1975), a physicist, and graduate of Victoria College, University of Toronto; obtained his doctorate at Trinity College, Cambridge University, in 1926. From his university days onward he was associated with famous scientists including Nobel prize winners Lord Rutherford (1871–1937) and Sir James Chadwick (1891–1974). During the war he completed several secret assignments for the British government. He was also associated with the Manhattan Project responsible for the development of the atomic bomb. Of Dr. William Webster it was said: the horror of the bomb haunted him for the rest of his life. Dr. Regis Brun, Université de Moncton, has recently completed a biographical study of the equally remarkable career of Dr. William Webster.

In 1920, Dr. Clarence Webster decided to take early retirement and move to Shediac. There was much more to this decision than a change of scenery or a return home. Interested in local history from boyhood, he began collecting maps, documents, artifacts and memorabilia relating to the Isthmus of Chignecto. Soon books, monographs and collections of primary documents, almost without number, began to appear.

Independently wealthy, and well travelled, the Websters visited universities and museums; archives and galleries; rare book and art dealers throughout North America and Europe; seeking old maps, documents, artifacts and objects d’art. As before, honors and recognition were soon forthcoming. Named in 1922 to the Historic Sites and Monuments Board; he served a term as chair, remaining an active member until 1949. Elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada in 1924; he contributed frequently to its deliberations. Together with his wife he edited a volume for the Champlain Society.

In 1935 Dr. Webster was made a commander of the Order of St. Michael and St. George and awarded the Order of Merit by King George V. Five honorary degrees came his way; including an LLD, conferred by his alma mater, Mount Allison University. To understand these and many other honors it must be noted that Webster was not content merely to collect artifacts and write history; he was also to make history as an activist and lobbyist for his cause.

It all began with the restoration of Fort Beauséjour and its designation as a national historic park. Were it not for Webster’s intervention and subsequent donation of land, the National Park might not have been established. The Beauséjour Museum, in which a major part of the Webster collection is still housed, was also his idea, and he played a key role in its construction.

Throughout, Dr. Webster lobbied for the marking of historic sites and had a hand in their designation in all three Maritime Provinces. Both the Public Archives of Nova Scotia and the New Brunswick Museum were recipients of his philanthropy. The latter institution, in addition to housing an important part of his collection also had the support of his wife, Alice Lusk Webster. She founded the Fine Arts Department; created an endowment and donated her personal collection of regional and oriental art.

In a moment of self-confession, Webster wrote in his aptly titled autobiography, These Crowded Years: I have found as keen a satisfaction in teaching, medical research and in the triumphs of the operating room, as in studying ancient documents, marking historic sites, or developing historical museums. These latter interests have carried me through the perils of old age and saved me from the horrors of doddering senility…

During Webster’s Crowded Years numerous awards and distinctions were his; but one that would have pleased him greatly was bestowed after his death. In 1969, the Canadian Permanent Committee on Geographical Names officially approved the designation of an unnamed mountain in Northesk Parish, Northumberland County, as Mount Webster. While many other individuals have been so honored; few were more deserving than Shediac’s remarkable physician and historian, Dr. John Clarence Webster.

I am indebted to the following for their assistance in writing this Flashback: Juliette McLeod, Fort Beauséjour National Historic Site; Donna Beal, Mount Allison Archives; Ray Dixon, Sackville and Dr. Regis Brun, Université de Moncton.

In ten days time Canadians will observe Canada Day, the 133rd anniversary of Confederation. On July 1st 1867 four former British colonies: Nova Scotia, New Brunswick. Lower Canada (Québec) and Upper Canada (Ontario) were united to form a new Dominion.

Use of the word Dominion was the inspiration of a New Brunswick Father of Confederation, Samuel Leonard Tilley. During the course of the 1866 London Conference, the Canadian delegation was struggling to find a distinctive name for the country. Their first choice, Kingdom of Canada, was discarded because it might, in the words of John A. Macdonald, wound the sensibilities of the Yankees.

At this point Tilley intervened. Legend has it that he was reading his Bible the previous night, and noted a verse in Psalm 72: He shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth. Since the Fathers of Confederation were dreaming great dreams of a country that might extend from sea to sea, they accepted Tilley’s suggestion and settled on Dominion of Canada. In 1871 their hope became reality when British Columbia entered Confederation.

From 1867 until 1982 Canada’s national holiday was known officially as Dominion Day. This was changed by an act of Parliament passed on October 27, 1982 renaming July 1st Canada Day. The motivation for change was a belief that Dominion had colonial overtones and that the change was more appropriate for a fully independent country.

As we enter a new millennium, celebrations on Canada Day 2000 will undoubtedly spotlight our past. This interest is also revealed in recent media attention to Canadian history. For example, several newspapers and magazines have compiled lists ranking Canada’s Prime Ministers from 1867 to the present. At least two books have appeared on the same subject.

Of the 21 individuals who have served as Prime Minister of Canada, there have been but four Maritimers: Sir John S. D. Thompson, Sir Charles Tupper, Sir Robert Borden and Rt. Hon. R. B. Bennett. It is worthy of note that the latter three all shared a common New England Planter ancestry; and further, that both Tupper and Bennett had close associations with this region.

In 1760 Sir Charles Tupper’s New England ancestors moved from Lebanon, Connecticut to Cornwallis Township in Nova Scotia. His father, Rev. Charles Tupper became a Baptist minister and served for many years in Amherst, NS. Charles Jr., was born on July 2. 1821 at East Amherst where the family then lived.

Later Tupper graduated in Medicine from Edinburgh University. He then returned home to set up a practice serving much of western Cumberland county and adjacent Westmorland county. Next time you visit Amherst, check out the pharmacy on the corner of Church and Victoria Street. One of the oldest in Canada, it was begun by Dr. Charles Tupper in 1843. Later sold to his brother, Nathan, also a medical doctor, it passed through many hands and is known today as Pugsley’s Pharmacy.

As of the year 2000, Sir Charles Tupper is on record as having served the shortest time as Prime Minister — a mere 69 days in 1896. However, it is recognized that Tupper’s major accomplishments came earlier in his career. Entering provincial politics in 1855 as MLA for Cumberland he went on to be Premier of Nova Scotia, advocate of free public school education, a leading Father of Confederation, long time federal cabinet minister, Canadian High Commissioner in London and MP for Cumberland for much of his career from 1867 onward.

Following his defeat by Sir Wilfrid Laurier in the election of 1896 Tupper served as Leader of the Opposition until 1900. As a means of promoting his political views during these two election campaigns, Tupper Clubs were formed in both Amherst and Sackville. For the last years of his life he lived in Bexley Heath, Kent, England. He died there October 30, 1915, the last surviving Father of Confederation.

Sir Robert Borden was Prime Minister from 1911 until 1920. The Borden family descended from Perry Borden, whose birthplace was Tiverton, Rhode Island. The family emigrated to Kings County, NS where Robert Laird Borden was born at Grand Pré on June 26, 1854. Elected in 1908 as MP for Halifax; he was to represent this constituency for most of his political career. Borden became leader of the opposition following Tupper’s defeat in 1900 and was elected Prime Minister in 1911. His major triumphs came during World War One. Owing to Borden’s efforts Canada gained a seat at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, became a signatory of the peace treaties, a founding member of the League of Nations and the International Labour organization.

Although Borden had few personal links with this region, his government will be remembered for establishing permanent ferry service between Cape Tormentine and Borden PEI. The latter community was named in his honor. During roughly the same period that Borden was prime minister, another descendant of the same Planter family, Dr. Byron Crane Borden, served as president of Mount Allison University.

Prime Minister R. B. Bennett’s forebears were part of the Lyme, Connecticut migration to Horton Township, NS in 1761. Twenty years later, the Bennett’s along with other Planter families moved across the Bay of Fundy, to found a New Horton in Albert County. Richard Bedford Bennett was born at Hopewell Cape, July 3, 1870. A lawyer by profession, he moved to Calgary in 1897. It was from here that that he was to launch his career in federal politics.

Bennett had the misfortune to be Prime Minister from 1930 to 1935, during the depths of the Great Depression. Consequently his place in Canadian history will always be measured by this fact. Following his defeat in

the federal election of 1935 he, like Tupper, left Canada to reside permanently in England. Created Viscount Bennett in 1941, he died five years later at his estate in Mickleham, Surrey, England.

Of the three Planter Prime Ministers, Bennett had the closest connection with the Tantramar region. His brother Captain Ronald V. Bennett lived in Sackville; thus over the years R. B. Bennett was a frequent visitor to the town. A bachelor, it was his custom, whenever possible, to spend Christmas with his brother and family at The Anchorage on York Street. On one of these visits, the Prime Minister was serenaded by members of the Mount Allison Glee Club. R. B. appeared at the front door and presented each singer with a red rose.

Both Bennetts, true to their Methodist roots, were benefactors of Mount Allison. In 1943 Viscount Bennett gave the university $200,000 to endow scholarships and faculty salaries. Financial aid from Captain Bennett in 1958 was responsible for the erection of three new men’s residences. One of these was named Bennett House in his honor.

On October 23, 1998 another university link was forged with the Bennett family. The renovated Animal Pathology Laboratory originally built by the federal Department of Agriculture in 1955 was reopened as the Bennett Building. It honors the memory of Major Edwin Ronald Bennett and Lieutenant Henry Harris Bennett, sons of Captain Ronald V. Bennett and Marion Machum Bennett. Both were killed in action, August, 1944. The building now houses the Centre for Learning Technologies.

In the early 1800’s, if residents of this region mentioned that they were going to The Island they would not have PEI in mind. Regular travel across the Northumberland Strait was impossible for another century. Locally, The Island meant only one place; Botsford’s or Dorchester Island, as it later became known. Let’s step back in time and ask the question: Why did the wells run dry in this once prosperous community?

It’s location rising high above the tide waters and surrounding marshland was defined as: being approximately a mile from Dorchester; bounded on the west by the Memramcook River and about a mile from its mouth; on the east by Palmer’s Creek and on the north by reclaimed marshland. As far as is known, the area was not settled by either the Mi’kmaq or Acadian people. The first to recognize its potential were the Yorkshire settlers and Loyalists.

Early maps and documents use the name Botsford’s for the island, in honor of Amos Botsford (1744–1812). From 1782 until 1784, Botsford served as an agent of the British government helping re-settle Loyalist refugees. Following creation of New Brunswick as a separate province in 1784, he selected his own lands; including the island that later bore his name. A native of Connecticut and graduate of Yale, Botsford was to make his mark on the political life of the new province. Elected as one of Westmorland’s representatives in the first assembly election; he served from 1785 until his death in 1812. During this long period he was also Speaker of the House.

From 1784 until the 1790s Botsford lived on The Island in a magnificent stone mansion with a panoramic view. Later he moved to Westcock where he acquired a large acreage of marsh and upland. Here Botsford continued his interest in agriculture, combining it with the practice of law. About 1800 the community’s first name was being replaced locally by Dorchester Island. Also, by this time The Island began to capitalize on its strategic location.

Since Albert County was not established until 1845, the county of Westmorland was then larger than today. Because of its growing population and importance, Dorchester was the logical choice to become the second shire town of the county. The move, from the first capital at Westmorland Point, took place in 1803. In addition, regular ferry service between Hopewell Cape and The Island, made travel convenient for people living in the western section of the county. As a bonus all persons attending court or other legal business, were to be transported free of charge. There was also regular steamer service between The Island and Saint John.

In its heyday, The Island boasted important shipyards: Moran & McMaster’s and Hickman’s; while a short distance away, Gideon Palmer located a shipyard on the creek that still carries his name. The Island also had its own school, Wesleyan Chapel, cemetery, hotel, shops and a resident doctor. For years after the settlement declined, people travelled to The Island to gather medicinal herbs which flourished on the site of the doctor’s garden.

While some Dorchester Island enterprises continued to exist until the late 1800s, the community underwent a traumatic event sometime during the early years of the nineteenth century. The account quoted below (although written long after the event) summarizes what actually happened: The residents were aroused from their sleep by earth tremors, rattling of windows and falling of dishes. The earthquake was of short duration. In the morning the inhabitants were surprised to find that all their wells had gone dry and that they were without water.

Strenuous efforts were undertaken to find another supply. One of the most important was the building of a wooden pipeline from Palmer’s Pond to The Island. However, insufficient pressure and leakage doomed the experiment. During some marshland reclamation operations in the twentieth century, remnants of this water pipeline were unearthed. There can be little doubt that the lack of a certain water supply contributed to the transfer of many people to The Corner, site of the present village of Dorchester.

However, an important question remained unanswered: WHEN did the earthquake take place? Contemporary records from this period are few in number; and the phrase the early years of the nineteenth century was of little help. Fortunately modern seismic science came to the rescue through the assistance of Mount Allison’s Bob Hawkes; best known for his research on meteors and helping track the recent Leonid Meteor shower.

A computer print out from the Department of Energy, Mines and Resources in Ottawa revealed the answer to my question. Southern New Brunswick experienced an earthquake on May 22, 1817. Measuring 4.8 in magnitude on the Richter scale it was, in Bob’s words: not a violent earthquake… but one that certainly would be noticed. Armed with this specific date, a newspaper search was in order.

From the New Brunswick Royal Gazette May 24 1817: The shock of an earthquake was felt here [Saint John] on Thursday Morning last [22 May] at 31 minutes past 3’oclock. It was preceded by a few minutes of noise, as if a gale of wind had suddenly sprung up, after which the earth began to shake violently and there was a rumbling as if some heavy carriages were passing. The air was perfectly clear and there was not a breath of wind. About a minute after the shock, deep rumblings were heard for a short time which apparently came from the southwest. The earthquake was also felt as far away as Fredericton and St, Andrew’s. In the latter place the alarm was so great as to occasion the soldiers to leave their barracks and many inhabitants their dwelling. Further verification of the earthquake was found in the Halifax Journal of the same date.

Although some distance from the epicentre, it seems clear that this earthquake (or its aftershocks) accounted for the dry wells on Dorchester Island.

In addition to Bob Hawkes, I would like to thank Dorchester historian Helen Petchey for assistance in writing this Flashback. Readers are directed to her publications on the village and to Reg Bowser’s Dorchester Island And Related Areas. In more recent times, Mr. Bowser erected a house on the site of Amos Botsford’s stone mansion. Later Flashbacks will feature further tales of The Shiretown.

On a day in early May of 1774, the lookout on Citadel Hill in Halifax raised his telescope to watch two brigantines beating their way into the harbour. Although the port was but twenty five years old, such sights were common. Nor was it out of the ordinary that these vessels were crowded with immigrants.

The event was of sufficient importance for the governor, Francis Legge to draft a dispatch to the Earl of Dartmouth, then Colonial Secretary in the British cabinet. He wrote: Within these few days, two brigantines [the Albion and the Two Friends] have arrived from Hull, importing two hundred eighty persons from Yorkshire… These people, my Lord, do not come here with the expectation of having lands granted to them, some come to purchase, others perhaps to become tenants and some to labour.

During a four year period from 1771 to 1775 approximately 1,000 to 1,200 Yorkshire settlers arrived in the then colony of Nova Scotia. New Brunswick was not to be set apart until 1784. The first question that must be answered is: Why this migration at this particular time? The answer may be found in the enterprise of lieutenant governor, Michael Francklin, and with the prevailing conditions in Yorkshire.

Michael Francklin was a prominent Halifax merchant, land speculator and entrepreneur extraordinaire. Once described as a hustling, scrappy, widely disliked wheeler dealer; his career began inconspicuously with a small dram shop on George Street in Halifax. Soon his business interests included contracts to supply the British forces stationed in the city. Later, trade in rum and fish with a little privateering on the side added to his wealth. Along the way Francklin accumulated several important land grants, one of which was located on the banks of the Petitcodiac River, with a second grant in the Maccan — River Hebert area. It become known as Francklin Manor.

In 1769, Francklin sailed for England with the purpose of recruiting settlers for his properties. The timing of the trip was fortunate. Northern England and especially Yorkshire, was experiencing an agricultural revolution. Scattered farm holdings were being consolidated into large estates. The imposition of major rent increases by landlords soon followed. Furthermore, the rural population of the county was increasing faster than agricultural growth.

Along with these economic changes, the same period also witnessed the growth of the revivalist movement that became known as Methodism. Started by John and Charles Wesley it had gained a strong foothold in Yorkshire. The Methodist emphasis on conversion and holiness, stress on Bible study and fellowship appealed to an economically oppressed population. While the people called Methodists were not persecuted as were many other religious groups, they did endure considerable harassment. The next Flashback will investigate the impact of Methodism on the Tantramar and beyond.

Consequently, throughout Yorkshire economic instability and religious enthusiasm were pparent; and talk of emigration was in the air. It was to these restless people that Francklin directed his attention. Of the hundreds who answered the call to move overseas, not all settled on his lands; however, Francklin and his numerous agents may be credited with pointing the Yorkshire migration in the direction of Nova Scotia.

Once on this side of the Atlantic, the vast majority settled on the Isthmus of Chignecto; specifically in the three townships that were created in 1763, Sackville, Cumberland and Amherst. However, a sizeable minority selected land in five other locations: on the Petiticodiac (present day Hillsborough, Coverdale and Riverview), in the Maccan-River Hebert area, the River Philip valley, and Newport and Granville Townships in the Annapolis valley.

The outbreak of the American Revolution spelled the end for Yorkshire migration to Nova Scotia. In the years following 1775, there would be a few additions to the Yorkshire stock, but nothing on the scale of the period from 1771 to 1775. The most significant was a small migration that followed the end of the Napoleonic Wars. It was at this time that Little York, now York PEI, was founded.

A study of the passenger lists of the various ships that carried Yorkshire emigrants to Nova Scotia indicates that Governor Legge was correct in his analysis. There were three distinct groups in the migration. First were those who came to purchase and who had been able to sell their properties, small though many of them were, before leaving home. They had cash in hand with which to purchase farms. Included in this first group were a number of skilled craftsmen such as carpenters and blacksmiths.

A second category were those with little in the way of ready cash but who had a burning desire to make a fresh start in the New World. They were looking for farms to rent and most of them became tenants of either Francklin or J.F.W DesBarres.

Finally there were those who came to labour. Included in this group were a number of servants and workmen, many of whom were already in the employ of emigrants with some wealth. Significantly, a number in the second and third category were ambitious and upwardly mobile. Before too long they had saved sufficient money to purchase farms for themselves.

The passenger lists for the various Yorkshire emigrant ships also included the ages of those on board. The typical family unit included parents in their thirties or forties, while families of six or more children were common. Lastly the Yorkshire immigrants were obviously in reasonably good health as casualties on the long trans-Atlantic voyage were few in number.

Those who may be interested in learning more about the life of the Yorkshire settlers at the time of their migration and later, are directed to the novels and short stories of Will R. Bird. Based on careful historical research these books convey, as no other medium, the life and times of the Yorkshire people. Unfortunately, most of his books are out of print and available only in libraries. It is hoped that a special edition of Bird’s most famous novel Here Stays Good Yorkshire will be available at the Yorkshire 2000 book stall. The celebrations running from August 3rd to 10th are a mere two weeks away!

Have you noticed a recent awakening of interest in local history? In a fractured and rootless society, more and more people are busy researching their family trees. Then there is the appeal of restoring older homes and the collecting of period furniture and antiques. The popularity of historical themes in movies and on television is further evidence of the same trend. Closer to home, the success of the Tantramar Heritage Trust and its offshoot the Tantramar Historical Society is proof that this influence extends to our own community. People in increasing numbers are voting with their feet as many attend Society meetings in St. Paul’s Church Hall.

This attention to the past is not entirely of recent origin. Since 1961 the Westmorland Historical Society has been fostering and encouraging interest in the history of the county. Its membership now stands at about 200 with meetings rotating between the Moncton and Sackville areas. Moving from the past to the present, planning is already underway to commemorate the arrival of Yorkshire settlers to the Tantramar region. This gathering, named Yorkshire 2000 on their Internet website, will attract hundreds of visitors from Yorkshire and other parts of the world. It is not too early to set aside the dates 6–12 August, 2000.

Undoubtedly this heightened interest in local history motivated a number of people to suggest my writing this column. For certain there will be no shortage of topics! Today’s peace and quiet belie the fact that for decades France and Britain fought for control of this strategic acreage. Eighteenth century newspaper headlines were not about Iraq or Bosnia, but of Acadia and New England and battles in unknown corners of the world such as Fort Beausejour. The Mi’kmaq, Acadians, New Englanders, Yorkshire settlers, Loyalists and more recently others from here, there and everywhere have all made contributions to the history and culture of the Tantramar.

Not only is this an area of historic interest; it reveals a rich vein of folklore. The phantom ship of the Northumberland Strait, the mysterious marsh lights, the Missaguash ghost or ghosts, along with tales of buried treasure at Jolicure are but a few examples. Then there is what can only be described as the mystique of the region. In turn, artists, musicians, novelists and poets have all, in differing ways, provided their interpretation of its appeal. An important question, to be considered in a future Flashback, comes to mind. Why has the Tantramar inspired more poetry than any other part of the Maritimes?

It is my hope that the Tantramar Flashbacks will not become a one way street. I welcome and solicit reader input along with suggestions for future columns. Any such ideas or comments should be addressed to me in care of the Sackville Tribune Post.

The Tantramar region is noted for more than its three centuries of recorded history. A rich vein of folklore may also be found. As so often happens, history and folklore go hand in hand, and especially is this true of the tales surrounding the Missaguash Ghost. The story begins in the formative years of Acadia and with Michel LaNeuf de la Vallière, who was it’s governor/administrator from 1678 until 1684. The LaVallière family emigrated from Caen, France to Trois-Rivières in present day Québec, where Michel was born about 1640. Later he was sent to France for an education, and soon after his return began extensive travels throughout New France and Acadia. By 1672 he had visited this region; recognized its economic and strategic potential and established a trading post on the Chignecto Isthmus. On 24 October, 1676 Governor Frontenac granted him a piece of land ten square leagues in area constituting the seignory of Beaubassin.

To picture its extent, the seignory was roughly bounded by a line drawn from the mouth of the Petitcodiac River, overland to Shemogue; down the coast almost to River Philip and from there northwesterly to Chignecto Bay. It embraced fertile marshland, a base for the fishery on two coasts along with forests abundant with timber and game. Equally important, LaVallière had found the geographic centre of Acadia and, while he was governor, Beaubassin was the capital. The next time you travel toward Amherst, after crossing Fort Beausejour Ridge, glance to the right and you’ll see a small knoll or island now surrounded by marshland. Known today as Tonge’s Island, this was the site of LaVallière’s headquarters.

Described as a swashbuckling blue blood, LaVallière courted and married Marie Denys, only daughter of the famous explorer, entrepreneur/author Nicolas Denys. They had eight children, one of whom, Marguerite, was the apple of her father’s eye. Unquestionably the beauty of the family, Marguerite was described as having exquisite coloring and graceful carriage. LaVallière had great plans for his favorite daughter. He renamed the Missaguash River Marguerite in her honor, and so it appears on early French maps. Then he made the mistake of promising her hand in marriage to someone she had never seen, a soldier of noble blood then stationed in far away Québec.

Marguerite was a determined young woman, and unknown to her father had already fallen in love with a seignory farmer, Louis le Gannes. To head off the pre-arranged ceremony, the couple eloped and were secretly married. Upon learning the news, LaVallière flew into a rage and vowed never to speak to his daughter again. He also issued a decree that the name of the river was to revert to the original Missaguash, the Mi’kmaq for muskrat; and so it remains to this day.

But the story is not quite over. Down the centuries, many of those who have lived, or still live in this area, maintain that on nights when the moon is full, a ghostly female figure appears on the banks of the Missaguash. Unlike so many others, this is a happy ghost and one not to be feared. It is, of course, the winsome and unrepentant Marguerite Leneuf de la Vallière le Gannes; still smiling in defiance of her father.