The red mid-18^th century replica of an officer’s uniform of the 45^th   Regiment worn by Lloyd Smith for decades has been retired.  The long-time Valley Crier – some 35 years and counting – is resplendent today in dress representing the clothing of 18^th century aristocrats.

But Smith’s role as a Crier remains hasn’t changed. The centuries old tradition of Criers announcing news and proclamations in the village square continues, with Smith still playing a prominent role at functions and celebrations throughout the Valley

However, the breeches, jacket and trim are now in subdued shades of green and gold (the colours of the town of Windsor), the hints of blue in the waistcoat representing our Acadian heritage.  And while his new uniform might not be traditional town Crier apparel (if there is such) the bell, staff and tricorn, part of the Crier costume for centuries, are still there.

In other words, a proclamation made today by Smith is, in effect, a historically correct re-enactment of the ancient art of crying.   Bells and staffs have been carried by town Criers for hundreds of years.  The tricorn  many Criers wear today was a fixture on Criers centuries ago.

It’s believed the ancient Greeks and Romans were the first to employ Criers but little documentation exists. What we do know is that after the Norman invasion of England in 1066, Criers are mentioned in official records.  In Great Britain Criers eventually became the voice of ruling Kings and Queens and officers of the Crown; most of the time they were used to inform people of orders and decrees from higher up.  So entrenched in British history and so vital was this role that Criers became protected under English laws; laws, by the way, still in effect today.

This is Lloyd Smith’s third Crier uniform.  The first, a gentleman’s dress of New England/Planter style was designed locally and was prominently green and gold.  The outfit worn by a military officer stationed in Windsor was the model for the red uniform Smith wore until recently.  This uniform was officially retired May 18 and is now on display at the Hants Historical Society.

Now, let’s take the significance of the paraphernalia Smith carries in his town Crier role.  In every sense it is historical.  The bell, for example, has traditionally been used as an “attention getter” for centuries.  Ringing the bell three times before an announcement symbolizes the time when a Crown appointed Crier was required to rap three times with a mace to introduce guests into a Royal Chamber or Royal presence; hence both the mace and the bell are carried by Criers today as an acknowledgements of this ancient tradition.

As for the introductory O Yea, O Yea, O Yea preceding Crier announcements, this custom likely goes back to the period when Great Britain was under Norman dominance.  Originally the cry was Oyez, Oyez, Oyez, an old Norman French term meaning “to harken,” or “hear ye.”

As for the tricorn Smith wears, this hat was popular in civilian fashion and with the military throughout the 17^th and 18^th century.  While the military discarded the tricorn in favour of other headwear, the hat became the traditional dress of Criers, a symbol of what is so British about crying.

Lloyd Smith in his new uniform, the dress of an 18th century aristocrat. (Submitted)

The Acadians called it the river of the gasparot; as we know, those bustling Planter people, once they saw the tremendous runs of herring-like fish up the river every spring, thought the name was appropriate.

The Planters called it Salmon River at first.  But eventually, by anglicizing the Acadian name slightly, the stream became the Gaspereau River.  Eventually, Gaspereau was applied to the river, to the village on its banks, to the valley the river flowed through and the lake at its headwaters.

If Esther Clarke Wright is correct, Gaspereau applies to more than a fish, a river, a village and a lake.  It also indicates a state of mind, says Wright respectfully in her book Blomidon Rose, noting that the early settlers along the river were “God-fearing, tight-fisted, house-proud, farm-proud people.”  It all had something to do with the Gaspereau Valley being relatively isolated from other communities in the area, Wright implies, that isolation perhaps creating a Gaspereau mindset.

The oddest thing about the word Gaspereau is that a few people believe it’s has nothing to do with the Acadians and their prized fish.  Years ago I heard that the Gaspereau River, and the village, valley and lake weren’t named after a fish.  In all seriousness, a friend told me Gaspereau came from the surname of a man named Gasper.  I scoffed of course, but the friend insisted it was true; it’s documented in history books and it is common knowledge, he said.

The Acadian origin of Gaspereau, for the fish, the river and so on, is so well known I couldn’t believe the friend was serious.  Then I discovered the booklet I wrote about in a recent column – the Souvenir of Wolfville and Grand Pre published in 1897 and written by D. O. Parker.  There it was in the book.  Just what my friend told me, that the word Gaspereau came from a man named Gasper.  Here, word for word, is what the author of the book says about the origin of Gaspereau:

“Legend says (Gaspereau) is a compound of Gasper and eau.  Gasper was a gentleman who died on his way to Acadia and was buried near the mouth of the river.  Eau is the French word for water; hence the water near his grave was called Gasper-eau, i.e. Gasper water – Gaspereau.  Others say it takes its name from a river in France and is sometimes spelt with an x, eaux, the plural for water.”

This is remotely possible, I suppose, but I suspect Parker wasn’t serious and simply was passing along a whimsical, curious piece of county folklore.  I hope so.  I see that Parker signs off his book as Rev.  D. O. Parker; a man of the church, in other word, and well educated enough to know fact from fiction.

Did you know it’s considered an insult to call an ox shoer a farrier, or that the word “ox” is a term of endearment, that oxen predict the weather? Or that oxen have been used as draught animals for over 6000 years, and the Acadians farmed and built their dykes here in Kings County with the aid of oxen?

These are a few on the interesting, little known facts about oxen Carmen Legge divulges in his book on the care, training and use of these hardy animals.  Legge’s book is just off the press – it will officially be launched July 14 at Ross Farm in New Ross – and I’ve been given the privilege of reading and reviewing it.

What an eye opener this has been!  I’ve seen oxen around, mostly at pulling competitions and farm fairs, for as long as I can remember; but I was never fully conscious of the role they played in settling our land.  From the Acadian period right up until relatively recent times, Oxen have played a vital role in field, dyke and forest, helping settlements establish and helping them flourish.

“We can say that societies would not be were they are today (without oxen)” Legge observes in his book.  They were fixtures in the farms of old, performing tasks no other draught animals were capable of handling.  As Legge amply illustrates, there simply would not have been any farms, no clearing of the wilderness or of fields without these animals.

Basically written as a how-to-do book on the care, training and use of oxen, Legge’s book has enough historical background and is so well researched that I recommend it as a good historical read. I’ve often looked with disinterest at oxen plodding along at community fairs but not anymore.  Anachronisms they may be today, but they weren’t always, as you will discover in Legge’s book.

In the book you will be introduced to various words and expressions that in our great grandparent’s days were commonplace.   You will see what farm life was like with oxen and how difficult life would have been without them.  You will discover how important, actually how vital oxen were when Nova Scotia was a wilderness that was waiting for the axe and the plow.

Most of all, you will discover why oxen were cherished for the work they did and why they are still cherished today.  Carmen Legge grew up farming with oxen and his love and understanding of this magnificent animal shines through.  You may wish to skip the sections of his book dealing with the care of oxen but the remainder is educational and enlightening.

In 1897, D. O. Parker, M. A., compiled and published a book that is an unusual combination, a historical document, tourist guide and local directory.  Parker called it a Souvenir of Wolfville and Grand Pre.  The book was published in Wolfville (likely by Davison Bros., publishers of the Acadian newspaper) and sold for 25 cents.

Only 24 pages, there are historical notes, tourist information, and a business directory that’s brief and incomplete.  Yet it is interesting.   Written over a century ago, the book contains some historical nuggets.  Doug Crowell, who sent me the text of the book, notes for example that it has information on the location of the friar’s house that “Parks Canada has been searching to find for years.”

Parker places the friar’s house a “few steps west of the chapel.”  Here are the “remains of a cellar,” Parker writes, that “without doubt belonged to the house of the friar,” – I assume he meant the house of an Acadian priest.  The chapel, in turn, is said to have been west of “Evangeline’s well,” which was “discovered a few years ago by treasure seekers digging for hidden gold.”  Many valuable Acadian relics were found at the bottom of the well, Parker says.  An Acadian graveyard was also close by, “a little east,” according to Parker.

Also historically interesting is Parker’s contention that the grounds of Acadia University once held Acadian homesteads.  In the rear of Acadia University are Acadian cellars, Parker writes.  Many Acadian relics, found on University grounds, were stored at one time in the college museum but were destroyed in a fire.  “A valuable cabinet of (Acadian) relics was lost when the college was burnt,” writes Parker, no doubt referring to the 1877 fire that destroyed most of the University.

Readers familiar with an earlier Wolfville will be intrigued by Parker’s reference to Acadian homesteads where “about one mile and a half east of the P. O. (Post Office?) a private road leads in by C. C. Harris’s to one of the most picturesque nooks imaginable.”  There, says Parker, one can find old willows, old apple trees, the remains of old cellars and a “remarkable road down to the dyke… where the Acadians passed up and down a century and a half ago.”

The reference to the C. C. Harris property may be enough of a clue for amateur archaeologists to find this “picturesque nook,” and its Acadian cellars.  Parker mentions that a brook ran through the site and there were old willows, which also may be helpful clues.

As for being a local directory, Parker only mentions a few businesses, most of them catering to tourists.  “Only” is the correct word here since in 1897 Wolfville was a prosperous town, the largest in the county at the time.  In the early 1890s Wolfville had 16 stores and hotels, several boarding houses, a busy port and a patent medicine factory.

Parker writes about six Wolfville and three Grand Pre hotels in his  book and briefly describes points of interest that might attract tourists.  There are “pleasant walks” and “pleasant drives,” and mention that in 1897, land now occupied by Acadia University held “3,000 young apple, pear, plum and peach trees.”

Readers interested in early Wolfville and the various references to the Acadians will find Parker’s book more than interesting.  While the book is out of print, it is posted on the Internet and can easily be accessed.

Two events, one of major importance taking place in 1995, the other a recent discovery that seemed insignificant at first, may be related.

In 1995, the Terry-Young house at 229 Main Street in Kentville was designated a heritage property.  About 200 years old, the house may have been built on an Acadian cellar.  Eaton’s history of Kings County mentions the Acadian cellar on which the house stands; this to me suggests the possibility Kentville was the site of other Acadian homesteads.

The other event was discovery this spring of an object protruding from the claylike banks of the Cornwallis River in Kentville.  Kings County Museum curator Bria Stokesbury noticed the object while walking in Miner Marsh and decided to investigate.  “Something caught my eye sticking out of the bank on the opposite side of the river from the marsh,” Stokesbury wrote in an email.  “I finally took my camera and got some pictures.  It looks like an aboiteau to me.”

When I looked at the photographs Stokesbury emailed me, my first impression was the same as hers – that I was looking at an aboiteau sluice.  An aboiteau is a sluice with a one-way valve the Acadians used to prevent flooding of land they dyked.  The aboiteau allows water to drain from dyked fields but prevents tidewater from flooding them.

Intrigued by photographs of what appeared to be the remains of an aboiteau sluice, I decided to take a closer look at it.  I walked down the side of the river the sluice was on and when I got close I was surprised by what I found. First of all, the object is an old sluice of the type once commonly used by the Acadians to make an aboiteau functional.  The sluice appears to have been handmade, hewed out apparently from a log.  This alone would indicate it is old, but how old it is difficult to say.

Secondly, the sluice protrudes from the bank of the river about a meter below ground level, meaning it has to have been buried for a long time, perhaps since the Acadian or Planter period.  The ground nearby is really marshy, the type of tide-flooded marsh the Acadians would have tried to reclaim by putting in dykes and aboiteaus.

Now, as for the connection between the Terry-Young property and the old sluice, let’s speculate that the house confirms an Acadian presence in what is now the town of Kentville.  The marshy area where the sluice was discovered isn’t far from the Terry-Young house.  If Acadians had settled in this area and had decided to reclaim land from the tides, the nearby marshy area was a logical place to start.  Evidence of this dykeing should show up from time to time and it has with discovery of the old sluice.

There’s more to the story.

The marshy land where the sluice protrudes from the banks of the Cornwallis River is owned by Jim and Sally Haverstock; part of this marshy land is also the property of the town of Kentville.   The Haverstock land, which is behind their Chestnut Place house, is bordered on the east side by Mill Brook and on the north by the Cornwallis River.  Jim Haverstock discovered an old aboiteau on Mill Brook decades ago and you can still see the ancient trough jutting from the bank.  There’s also the remains of an old dyke on this property, which is separate from the running dyke constructed and maintained by the Department of Agriculture.

The Haverstock meadow was cattle pasture at least a century ago.  The late Garth Calkin recalled when he was boy herding cattle on the meadow, then known as the Calkin Meadow, about a hundred years ago.  This land was once part of a Planter grant.  On February 19, 1766, Jonathan Darrow received a grant of 500 acres, land Arthur W. H. Eaton mentions in his county history as including some of downtown Kentville.   About six months later, Darrow sold the land to James Fillis and Joseph Pierce. Fillis farmed his land, part of which today is the town’s business section. According to Eaton, Fillis built a house smack in the town’s business district, about where Centre Square is today.

To sum up, from what Eaton has to say, the area in and around downtown Kentville was farmable land we can speculate would have interested the Acadians.  Furthermore, the aboiteau on Mill Brook discovered by Jim Haverstock, and the aboiteau sluice found recently by Bria Stokesbury indicate the area close by the town’s business section was dyked and at least two aboiteaus were constructed.  We also know, from the Terry-Young house, that Acadians once lived close to this land.

Early attempts definitely were made on the Haverstock/town property to reclaim tidal marsh from the Cornwallis River; but was it Acadians or Planters who were responsible?   Unless further investigations are made in that triangle of land formed by the Cornwallis River and Mill Brook we may never know.

This old aboiteau sluice, recently discovered jutting from the banks of the Cornwallis River, suggests either Acadians or Planters dyked land in the town of Kentville. (E. Coleman)