man from the then commander-in-chief of the United States forces and other prominent actors in that memorable drama. THE AROOSTOOK WAR. It was a wise policy that referred the settlement of the boundary dispute to the arbitration of the King of the Netherlands; for who could decide more impartially in a matter where rivers and hills were in question than the sovereign of a country in which no rivers ran, and whose loftiest hills were the dykes that resisted the encroachments of the sea? The referee did what others have done in like quandary-" split the difference"-which decision, as in all similar cases, of course pleased neither party. So the Blue Noses continued to cut timber, and the Yankees to claim jurisdiction, over the disputed territory. On some occasions our agents were seized and imprisoned, which served to aggravate existing troubles, until in the fall of 1838 the completion of the Aroostook road to the river of that name, over which the British claimed jurisdiction, brought matters to a crisis. Meanwhile the Government had constructed the military road to Houlton, and established a small garrison there. In November, Hamlin, the land agent, acting under Governor Kent, walked into a camp of about a dozen of the trespassers with writs and a deputy-sheriff. The rough backwoodsmen demanded to know "his business." He was "authorized by the Governor of Maine to arrest all trespassers by civil process." The absurdity of this proposition was very apparent to the Blue Noses. They accordingly badgered the agent, laughed in his face, and, with common forest civility, told him to go to the most uncomfortable of places. Hamlin "didn't see it in that light." "Well, what will you do about it, supposing we won't budge?" ary question. Thus matters stood when a change took place in the State Executive. Governor Fairfield and his agent, M'Intire, favored "coercion." It was in the month of February, 1839, and the Legislature was in session, when a messenger arrived, post haste, with the startling intelligence that the trespassers had returned in full force! Then, in secret session, war was declared against New Brunswick and the whole Blue Nose race. An armed posse of citizens was raised in Bangor, 300 strong, and marched immediately to the seat of war. Before this formidable force the trespassers retired, retreating down the St. John River. Just here the tragedy commences. When the shades of night had overtaken the posse in their pursuit of the fugitives, and all was hushed in the camp, certain of the officers went to pay a friendly visit to the house of one Fitz Herbert, who lived just on the line, a half mile distant. But alas! the folly of trusting those who live upon the line! They are as uncertain as politicians "upon the fence." Now it may be that Fitz Herbert was not a traitor to those who trusted him. Perhaps he was only a bit of a wag, or, perchance, being a neutral, he wished to keep the conflict from his own territory. Howbeit it came to pass that, while he entertained his guests with good cheer, he sent into the Province secretly and informed of the presence of the Yankees at his house; the result of which was that they were captured by the enemy and hurried down the river to Frederickton. Then went Fitz Herbert in breathless haste to the Federal camp. "Up, men, away! run for your lives, or all is lost! The British are coming! They have captured your officers, and carried them off! The woods are swarming with Blue Noses and Indians!" Then indeed there was "mounting in hot haste," a hurried striking of tents, and a rapid "Then I shall be compelled to get a military retreat up the banks of the Aroostook. An acforce." But the Blue Noses stood their ground, and the agent caused writs to be served on them in due form. At this stage of affairs the matter was finally compromised, and the lumber poachers retired. The sheriff left a guard at the place, threatening to arrest them if they returned. Thus far there was nothing very alarming in the cloud that threatened. The Governor and his agent were pursuing a conciliatory policy which promised a suspension of all hostilities until such time as a perfect understanding could be had between the two Governments. The subject was also before Congress, and the Maine representatives had put matters right there. Moreover it had been stipulated by the agents of Her Majesty and of the United States, that if the New Brunswickers took timber from the disputed territory, and it was discovered, it was to be sold at auction by order of the Government and the money laid aside; or, at least, an account of it taken, so that it might be paid over to us at the final settlement of the bound cidental discharge of a gun quickened their speed, and the ringing report of ice cracking in the sharp frosty air added wings to their flight, and they paused not in their career until a distance of sixty miles was left between them and the imaginary enemy. Now the storm of war burst upon the good people of Maine in all its fury. Such hostile demonstrations on the part of the enemy, and the total rout of the Posse, demanded the instant calling out of the militia of the State. From the head-quarters at Augusta four regiments were forthwith ordered; and on the 20th of February, in just four days after the order was issued, the troops assembled at the appointed rendezvous in Bangor, fully armed and equipped. The alacrity with which they responded to the call, and the celerity with which so large a force was raised within an area of one hundred miles, a large portion of it forest and without facilities of travel, was most creditable to all parties. All was excitement in Bangor, business was suspended, and weeping friends gathered around those who had so sud The next day found them at the village of Grand Falls. Without bestowing more than a passing notice upon the cluster of small dingy buildings that comprise the county-seat of Victoria County, New Brunswick, and its motley population of French, English, Scotch, Irish, In denly been summoned to brave the dangers of battle. From the stone steps of the Bangor House Major-General Hodgdon exhorted the assembled militia to deeds of valor in the coming contest. Then came the order to march. One regiment went to Calais to cut off imaginary reinforcements for the British, others to oth-dians, and half-breeds, they sought out the inn, er points, and one, by forced marches through the deep snow-drifts of the Aroostook, to Houlton and Fort Fairfield. History is painfully silent respecting the operations of the three months' campaign, and of the achievements of the army. The discipline of the camp is spoken of as excellent, though the use of a practice target representing the crowned head of Her Majesty has been justly reprehended, since it was not only disrespectful to the sex, but served to exasperate the Blue Noses to an unnecessary degree. There are desultory accounts of a certain midnight alarm, a long march through a blinding snow-storm, and a desperate battle that was not fought only because the enemy did not appear. This was the only serious engagement of the war. How General Scott was sent to mediate between the combatants, how the army was withdrawn from the field to partake of a cold collation at Bangor on the 10th of May, how the difficulty was finally settled between the two countries, and how Uncle Sam was obliged to foot an expense account of $250,000, have long been historical facts connected with the "Aroostook War." After a run across the line to Woodstock, seven miles distant, Penman and Cliquot returned to Houlton, and then took the stage for Presque Isle, a charming village on the Aroostook River, where they read the Pioneer, the northernmost paper printed in the United States, dined upon a luscious salmon taken with a fly from the river, contemplated a big Micmac Indian, examined the model farms in the vicinity, and watched the gleamings of a brilliant aurora borealis; thence to Fort Fairfield, with its decaying block-houses and ruined barracks; and thence, under arching trees, where luxuriant raspberry bushes by the wayside reached out their tempting fruit to the hand of the passing traveler, on to the beautiful Falls of the Aroostook, at which they were fain to cast a fly for the luscious salmon that throng the dark pool below. The road for some distance skirted the verge of a precipice, and far down in the ravine could be heard the roar of the rushing stream, which was concealed from view by the dense foliage that intervened. But presently the fringe of trees terminated abruptly, and disclosed a huge basin yawning at their very feet, at the bottom of which, perhaps two hundred feet below, the Aroostook precipitated itself in a tumult of foam over a broken ledge of rocks. Both falls and stream looked insignificant by contrast with the vast amphitheatre that engulfed them. A heavy growth of evergreens encircled the edge of the Titanic bowl, defining more perfectly its remarkable proportions. where they were waited upon by old Wilmot, the town-clerk-a clever sort of a character, but saturated with "Medford" and English prejudices-who extended to them the freedom of the town, and volunteered as their cicerone during their sojourn. His assiduous attentions, however, discovered little of interest to the strangers, saving the fact that there seemed to be but two private buildings in the place, viz., the court-house and a church. The first was a huge wooden structure, isolated, gamboged, and imposing, upon a bare hill in the centre of the town; the other a neat white edifice nestling among dark evergreens, but carefully set aside upon an almost inaccessible ledge beyond the corporate limits, with a wild ravine two hundred feet deep intervening. But the marvelous beauty of the surrounding scenery more than compensated for the ophthalmic twinge occasioned by the brown weather-beaten houses of the dingy town. Let us now turn toward the little white church with its environment of trees, and the long line. of hills behind that surge upward in dark billows of verdure. A new world in nature is before us. Against the back-ground of foliage a dense column of mist is ever rising, sparkling in the sunlight, and spanned by a rainbow arch that rests on abutments of fleecy clouds. A calm pervades the landscape, and through the still air can be heard a hollow roar deep in the bowels of the earth; and if one will suspend his breath he can feel a tremor under his feet, as if caldrons were fiercely bubbling. At night, in their little room, the travelers heard the same dull roar, and were lulled to sleep by the droning monotone. Now the cause of the invisible phenomenon was about to be manifested to them in a scene of wild commotion. They passed on, by a winding path, through a grove of cedars and spruce, the sound increasing momentarily, when their steps were suddenly arrested by a tremendous chasm which gaped beneath their feet, and, looking over the dizzy verge, the great cataract of the Grand Falls of the St. John burst upon their view in all its grandeur of thunder, foam, and ever-rising spray. Down a precipice of seventy feet it leaped, shivering itself into mist; then raged and whirled, piling itself into huge drifts of foam; then dove into the unfathomable depths of an inky pool; and, struggling a while, finally burst through the surface, and foamed away, over a succession of falls and rapids, through a contracted channel, whose perpendicular walls are two hundred feet high! Niagara is grand and sublime, overpowering the sense by its immensity of volume; but the Grand Falls are fearfully romantic; for the precipitous cliffs that confine the cataract are fringed with forest trees, which overhang the very brink, and add a wildness and beauty to the picture which Niagara does not possess. But the stand-point from which to obtain the most impressive view is at the bottom of the abyss below. The descent is difficult and even perilous. Man is a small atom down there, looking up at the blue sky above him through that great rift. The black, impending rocks threaten to crush him; tall, scraggy pines stretch out their long arms threateningly toward him; the reverberating thunder deafens him; his breathing becomes difficult; and the seething torrent rushing by seems about to sweep the rocky bed from beneath his feet. The whole earth trembles. Not a bird or living creature is to be seen. Even the fleecy clouds above seem anxious to avoid the place, and scud quickly across the gulf. In the spring, when freshets above swell the impetuous volume of water, the fury of the torrent is even more terrific. Pent up within the narrow gorge, and unable to discharge itself through the natural passage, it is forced upward in immense surging billows, subsiding and heaving with each successive flood that plunges over the Falls. THE MADAWASKA. sea, and fleets from the Puritan shores of New England? Of deceit, cruelty, rapine, and the slaughter of an unoffending people, whose patriarchal simplicity, kindness, and virtues won the love of savages-who never wronged by word or blow, and who even refused to take up arms in their own defense, preferring rather to die by their faith than shed the blood of other men? Of the fall of Louisburg and the tragedy of Grand Prè, embalmed in the touching poem of Evangeline? Let the wrongs of a hundred and fifty years be blotted from memory. Of the exiles some fifty families found their way to Fredericton, New Brunswick; but they did not long remain there unmolested, for in 1783 they were again driven out and fled up the river to their present settlement of Madawaska. Here at least they were secure from the inroads of British fleets, for no vessel could pass the Falls. Here, in the unexplored wilderness, they hoped to be no longer in any body's way. The days of persecution have long since passed. In their peaceful homes on the banks of the picturesque St. John these simple people now pursue their daily avocations as happily as before the advent of the English ships at Gaspereau's mouth. Could the breath of life be breathed into those who suffered and died, and they in the flesh be transported hither, their faces would Now pass we to a more tranquil scene. It is eventide. The declining sun has spread his 'crimson sheen over one half the placid bosom of the broad St. John, while the other flows un-kindle with surprise that time had wrought so der the shadow of the high impinging bluff. A few changes during their long absence-so perlight pirogue glides swiftly by, leaving a gentle fectly have their descendants retained the pecuripple astern, and a swallow is skimming the liarities of former days-their style of dress, surface, dropping crystals from his wing-tips as mode of cooking, the forms of their houses, the he flies. Just here the river sweeps with a ma-antique-looking wind-mills for threshing grain, jestic bend on its way to the cataract; and the clumsy wains, and rude cabriolets. The standing upon the grassy bank at the curve, we settlement extends along the river for sixty gaze far up its glistening channel into an open-miles, on both sides, though the larger portion ing vista of gently sloping hills and meadows, of its 6000 inhabitants are on the New Brunsthat dip smooth and velvety to the river's rim- wick side. The road runs parallel with the of cultivated farms, with their neat white cot-river, perhaps half a mile distant, but the houses tages, their orchards, and fields of ripening grain. Over all a Sabbath serenity is diffused, and grassy knoll and leafy wood are embathed in a soft and subdued lustre. We seem to have been suddenly transported by some wand of enchantment into another country, the smoothness of the fields, the absence of woods, the evidences of long-tilled lands, contrast so strangely with the tangled forests and new clearings only a few miles back. But pause! This fertile and en-dians in their daily intercourse with each other. chanting valley was settled almost a century ago! Here was heard the sound of the loom, the ring of the axe, and the busy hum of labor, when all around was a wilderness-when thousands of square miles of primitive forest intervened between its people and civilization, and the only highway to the outer world was the smoothlyflowing river before their doors. We are now about to tread the almost classic ground of Acadia-land of a hundred romances. Before us are the golden portals of the Madawaska! Shall we repeat the oft-told story of the sufferings of the early Acadians? Of the invasion of their peaceful homes by fleets from over the are for the most part riparian, with projecting roofs, and porticoes overlooking the smooth lawns that slope to the margin, and outdoor seats, where now, as in the olden time, gossiping looms are heard "mingling the noise of their shuttles with the whir of the wheels." Here the family sit at evening and receive the calls of their neighbors who come in boats; for the river is the thoroughfare most used by the Aca The interval between it and the road is a continuous line of pastures and cultivated fields. There are farms, too, on the other side of the road, and an occasional farm-house; but only a mile or two back is the dark belt of timber that bounds the Aroostook wilderness, and beyond are the homes of the moose, the bear, and the cariboo. "Ah! here comes a 'cabrowit!' To the left, Cliquot, you remember. What a clumsylooking two-wheeled craft it is, like the old chaise our great-grandmothers knew! Now tip your felt as gracefully as you can. Salute! it is the custom here. Jove! did you see those "Messieurs, your supper is ready." faces? those dark lustrous eyes? that olive tint | out. Then presently came a little voice, low and carmine blush, like the velvet cheek of the and musical: ripest peach? Those are Acadian Evangelines, true to tradition. We shall see others soon. Here come two cavaliers, in full panoply of homespun blue and straw-hats as large as a Mexican sombrero. Did ever Gaucho sit more lightly in the saddle? Is it possible that we are in Maine? in Puritan New England? Those are not Yankee faces. Here they are at hand." Penman and Cliquot drew their chairs to the table, and with eager eyes and sharp appetite surveyed the board. Penman plunged his spoon into a dish of unctuous compound, and presently filled his mouth. He gasped, choked, and simply said, "A glass of water, if you please, my dear." Then he tried a dish of what seemed to be "Bon soir, messieurs. Quelle distance a chez minced eggs afloat in pork fat. A taste exde Jean Paraut? Je souhait y rester à.” plained the odor of garlic that prevailed. Next he spread a slice of buckwheat bread-sour, black, and gangrened, and of the consistency of lead. Then he transferred a couple of griddled cakes to his plate, which having tasted cautiously, he dosed with maple molasses, and washed down with a decoction of barley, nicknamed coffee, and said, "Goodness, Penman! do you call that French? You wouldn't murder the tongue before their eyes!" "Pshaw! That's better French than half of them speak. It's only a patois they parleyvoo; though they can speak their native tongue with Parisian elegance, as you will see by-andby. But yonder is Jean's, just rising the knoll. Get on, pony!" "Another glass of water, if you please." Then he rested knife and fork, and gazed af lithe-limbed attendant, and thus apostrophized: But Penman and Cliquot made a tolerable supper of the fresh milk and eggs, and were grateful-for a meal ever so humble, with an open heart, is better relished than a feast given grudgingly, and mine host's hospitality was as unqualified as his surprise at the injustice done the bounteous repast. Kind-hearted Jean Paraut! He pressed his guests to tarry another day, promising them a thumping fandango in the evening if they remained; but haste compelled them to go on, and so the door closed softly behind them. Simple-minded Jean Paraut! May his large barns be ever filled, and no visions of English invaders disturb his slumbers! Get on, pony!" The neatly white-washed house to whose door | fectionately after the retreating figure of his they drove promised substantial comforts for tired and hungry travelers; and confident of a hearty welcome, they mounted the steps and knocked. Presently the door was opened by an impassive little Frenchman with a melancholy face and dark-blue homespun trowsers, who received them with a quiet recognition, and, with a step as cat-like as an undertaker's at a funeral, ushered them into the presence of a pensivelooking Madame in plaited hair and blue woolen petticoat, and a group of reserved and thoughtful children in blue. Then they seated themselves upon a low wooden settle, and Cliquot commenced a conversazione with the host and hostess, who presently brightened into something like the vivacity which is said to be a national trait of the Frenchman; but Penman, who understood French imperfectly, contented himself with a cursory examination of the spacious apartment in which he found himself, while the children prepared the supper. The house itself was built of squared logs, a single story high, and divided into two apartments, perhaps twenty feet square. From his wooden-bottomed seat, then, Penman thoughtfully contemplated the huge Canadian stove, six feet high, that stood in the partition wall, so as to warm both rooms alike, and calculated the number of cords of wood that would be required to feed the monster during a six months' winter, and its cost at New York market prices. Then he looked at the loom and the spinning-wheel, and thought of Longfellow's Evangeline; at the antique chairs, and the bedsteads set into the walls like berths; at the little rudely-carved crucifixes, and the pictures of the Virgin and saints that ornamented the room. He watched the ghost-like movements of the softly-tripping enfants as they prepared the supper; and anon stole glances at the plump little hostess in kirtle and snow-white cap. While he waited and watched a strong savor of garlic pervaded the room, and there was a hissing and sputtering of melted fat with Now we come to Keagan's house. That is not a French name. It has more the ring of the "rich brogue." "How do you do, Mr. Keagan ?" "Hut! Long life to your honors! an' how do yees do this morning? When did ye come down?" "Yesterday. We lodged at Paraut's last night. How is Mrs. Keagan?" "She's well. Come in a bit till ye see the misthress. Don't say 'No' now-come. We'll take a sup." "Thank you; but we must go on. When we return, perhaps. Do you know if Father M'Keaguey is at the lower chapel ?" "I believe he is, then; I'm not sure, but I think he is." "Mr. Keagan, what do you call yourself-an Irishman, a Frenchman, or a Yankee? for you | event. live in the States, you know." "Bother me but 'twould be hard to tell. Faith, then, I'm an American-Irish-French man. "Or an Irish-French-Yankee ?" "No, Sir! The Yankee first-I puts the Yankee first. Shure, doesn't I vote? An' ye won't come in? Well, then, good luck to yees! Good-by!" Father M'Keaguey was a priest of fine education and refinement. He received his visitors most cordially, pipe in mouth, and invited them to his pretty Norman cottage, where he offered them pipes and wine of choicest vintage. Then they sat by the windows that overlooked the beautiful St. John, and conversed long and freely upon matters temporal and spiritual. It was a rare treat for him to meet with gentlemen of intelligence and education. "Father," said Penman, as he surveyed the charming landscape, "you have a delightful place to live in here." Terpsichore is queen in Madawaska, and governs almost every action in everyday life. Miserable indeed would these happy Acadians be without the everlasting fandango and accompanying fiddle. Every birth, every marriage, the raising of a building, with its each subsequent stage of progress, the ingathering of the crops, and every maple-sugar bee, are severally and duly celebrated by a fandango, at which both old and young are present in full participation. Ah! these boatmen of the St. John are inveterate skippers! We will attend the fandango this evening, since an invitation is a courtesy always extended to strangers. There is a fog to-night, but it will not affect the festivities. Had Penman and his friend been unattended sense of hearing would alone have guided them to the place selected; for long before they reached the spot the twang of the fiddle and the regular beat of shuffling feet, as if a score of looms were set to music, came borne to their ears upon the still night air. "A delightful place to die in!" he responded, Gradually the sounds increased, and soon two with a tone of dejection. nebulous shafts of light streamed out into the mist, athwart which dusky shadows seemed perpetually flitting. Presently the sense of smell aided to guide their steps to the portal-rank fumes of mingled exhalations wafted from within. These meteorological phenomena and a hasty survey of the interior suggested a retreat; but their little chaperon led them on, and by dint of persuasion, elbows, and appeals, an entry was effected, and the already compact mass of human bodies compressed to the extent required to admit the cubic inches of the newcomers. Presently the catgut ceased to scrape, the dancing stopped, and the stalwart maître de danse immediately plowed his way to the distinguished guests, and, with native politeness, proceeded to oust the occupants of seats to make room for them. "Be seated, gentlemen. I beg you don't stand." The visitors assented, and passing out upon the lawn before the chapel they discovered little groups of peasants in blue homespun gathered near, all moving about in their quiet way, or sitting upon the grass conversing in undertones; and their faces, though cheerful, were very much like the thoughtful, serious faces at Jean Paraut's. Presently the chapel-bell rang, and they entered quietly. The building was of wood, with a spire surmounted by a curiously ornate iron cross, and not unlike some old-fashioned The momentary confusion over, the dance is New England meeting-house. The interior resumed. Through the blue cloud of tobacco lacked expensive decoration, coarse engravings smoke are discerned dusky figures in variegated in huge black frames supplying the place of cus- shirts and trowsers and parti-colored petticoats, tomary oil-paintings; and the altar was very sitting, closely packed, upon long benches and plain. The most unusual feature was an im- upon the floor, and standing along the walls; mense iron stove, perched in mid-air over the while through the crevices in the loft above, and middle aisle, upon pillars seven feet high, this through the ladder-hole, curious eyes are peerposition being necessary to secure even moder-ing. Upon an elevated seat in one corner a ate warmth during the bitter cold of the winter season. Now enter Claude and Marie, hand in hand, clad in the universal blue-Marie in kirtle and petticoat, guileless of hoops-and take their position before the altar, kneeling for prayer and throughout the service, and receiving meekly the final admonition of the priest. At the conclusion the wedded pair were saluted by the father and all who were assembled. It was a simple ceremony. The twain were made one, and then retired with their friends to prepare for the celebration that always follows so important an lady, with comely features and coronet of glossy braided hair, is drawing music from a cleartoned violin, and betimes accompanying it with a warbling voice hardly distinguishable from its counterpart. Not a smile or a word does she deign to bestow upon the serious-looking circle around, but addresses herself diligently to the duty she is selected to perform. With difficulty the crowd is pressed back to permit space for the dancers-a space not more than six feet in diameter. Now comes a tall man leading a little rosy-cheeked maiden (the newly-wedded pair) and takes his place on the floor; next |