“Take a look at this,” the collector said, handing me a large penny. “See anything unusual about it?”

“That’s an 1856 Napolean 111 large penny,” the collector said when I shook my head and handed the coin back. “There were a lot of them minted, up until 1891 I think. They’re fairly common when it comes to collecting but this one is different.”

The collector palmed the penny and pressed down on it with his thumb. The top of the penny slid aside to reveal a tiny compartment. “It’s a spy coin,” the collector said. “French espionage agents carried them to pass messages back and forth. Write a note on a slip of paper, place it in the penny, and pass it to someone in a saloon. Who would know what had just happened?”

I was in the collector’s Kings County residence – he prefers to remain anonymous for security reasons – when he showed me the spy coin. I looked at it again; the coin was so finely machined I couldn’t tell that it came apart. Amazing! And this did this with 19th-century technology.

The collector put the coin away and handed me a small pine box that fit easily in the palm of my hand; the box was designed to look like a miniature book and there was some sort of pattern etched on its cover.

“This is dated 1910 or thereabouts and it was carved out a single block of wood. It has a sliding cover,” the collector said, demonstrating that the cover did indeed slide open. “Can you guess what it was used for?”

When I said that I was stumped again, the collector explained that it was a spruce gum box from the South Shore. Spruce gum was a backcountry treat a few generations ago – ask your grandparents – and when people collected it in the woods, they saved it in boxes that would easily fit into coat or trousers pocket. The boxes were made by hand and were finely crafted. The better-made boxes are rare today and are sought after by collectors.

I was handed another small wood box; this one was oval-shaped with a fitted cover that had some sort of design carved in it. “This is black ash and it was made entirely by hand,” the collector said. “It’s a ditty box.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” I said and the collector enlightened me.

Like spruce gum boxes, the ditty box was used to collect things; our great-grandparents placed them around the house, usually in kitchens and bedrooms, where they were used as catch-alls. Great-granny stored needles, thread, buttons, and so on in her ditty box, while great-grampy probably used his as a holder for anything that might take out of his pockets at the end of a working day.

Ditty boxes, especially all-wood, handcrafted specimens from the late 19th century are collectables. The better, more valuable ditty boxes often have designs carved into them with covers so precisely fitted you’d swear our great-grandpappys had laser technology.

“Micmac baskets are collectables,” said the collector, showing me one over a century old. “This was discovered in a basement in Wolfville,” he said, pointing out the designs on the basket made from porcupine quills.

“There’s a lot of history in your collection,” I said.

“Especially in this,” the collector said. He handed me a small bottle marked Seavey’s East India Liniment. A testimonial dated the bottle to the year 1888. The bottle may have been made right here in Kings County. According to the collector, there was once a bottle manufacturer operating on the shores of the Bay of Fundy, either at Hall’s Harbour or Scot’s Bay.

Calling him a super sleuth may be an overstatement on my part,  but there’s little doubt that Kentville railroad/marine  buff Leon Barron has a knack for research.  For several years, for example, Barron has been digging into Acadia University’s archives for references to sailing ships, wharves, lighthouses and the marine history of Kings County.  Some of the information he amassed through tedious reading will help with a current pet project, a scale model duplication of the Kingsport wharf and a history of this port.

When I devoted a couple of columns (column 1, column 2) to the 1831 Caroline tragedy last July and August, to give another example of Barron’s penchant for research, he suggested it might be worthwhile to contact the Digby Historical Society.  The schooner Caroline sailed from Digby before foundering in the Bay of Fundy and washing ashore near Baxter’s Harbor.  I didn’t act on his suggestion but typically Barron followed up and discovered additional information on the Caroline.  Barron also uncovered a long poem on the disaster which was published in the History and Geography of Digby County.

This book tells us that before finally coming to rest on a Bay of Fundy beach near Baxter’s Harbor, the Caroline was temporarily stranded on “Isleaux Haute.”  How this is known is not revealed in the history/geography.  John Bigelow, the gentleman responsible for the plaque that marks the site where the Caroline washed ashore and where the frozen bodies were buried, didn’t refer to Isle Haute in his inscription.  Bigelow makes no mention of messages being left by the crew and passengers, and since he was known to be a thorough researcher, we must assume that none was found.  Therefore the Isle Haute reference is a mystery.

There is also another mystery, a discrepancy in the crew and passenger list as given in the history/geography and the inscription on the Caroline plaque.  The history/geography and the plaque number the crew and passengers at 14 with no survivors, but they differ on whom was aboard.

I suppose that over a century and  a half later the details on the Caroline shipwreck really don’t matter.  The Caroline ran into a terrible winter storm on the Bay of Fundy and all aboard perished.  The local connection is that the Caroline drifted ashore in Kings County with five frozen bodies on board, which were buried near the beach.  A plaque, courtesy of the late John Bigelow, marks the site.

Aside from the plaque and a brief report in this newspaper several years ago, little local publicity has been given the Caroline tragedy.  Besides the plaque, the main source of information for future historians who may be interested in shipwrecks and local lore will be this column.  For this reason I must point out what is given in the Digby County history/geography and the plaque.

As mentioned, there is a difference in the names on the plaque and the names given in the history/geography.  The plaque gives the crew as James Bryant, John Hayes, Henry Carty and John Calligan.  The Digby book shows the crew as James Bryant, John Hayes.  George Eldridge, Richard Day and John O’Callaghan.

On the plaque the passengers list is David Cossaboom, Solomon Marshall, Mr. Eldridge, Mr. Carter, James Harris, Henry Kennedy, Patrick Connolly, his wife and two children.  The Digby book gives Thomas Harris, Elijah Carty, Solomon Marshall, David Cosseboom, Ebenezer Washburn, Mrs. John O’Callaghan and three children.

A final point.  While John Bigelow doesn’t mention it, the poem in the Digby book has details on the Caroline’s plight  that suggest a passenger  or one of the crew left a written message.

In his history of railways in Nova Scotia, W. W. Clarke wrote that on October 30, 1889, the “first engine, No. 2, crossed the Cornwallis Bridge with ballast for the C.V.R. (Cornwallis Valley Railway).”

While this is a relatively insignificant historical event, the fact that it took place in October is meaningful. In the long history of the Dominion Atlantic Railway, October has been a significant month. It was in October when the idea for a railway in Nova Scotia was broached for the first time in a provincial newspaper.

Speaking on behalf of Thomas Chandler Haliburton, the fictional character Sam Slick promoted a railway that would link Halifax with the rest of the province. In the first instalment of The Clockmaker in The Nova Scotian, Slick starts off a long harangue on the benefits of a railway with, “Let them make a railroad to Minas Basin and they will have arms of their own to feed themselves with.”

This was one of the first shots fired in what would amount to nearly 20 years of negotiations to start a railroad in Nova Scotia. This was in October (1835) a month when events trivial and great would occur. Clarke’s history records, for example, that on October 1, 1894, the Windsor and Annapolis Railway took over the Yarmouth and Annapolis Railway, an amalgamation that became the Dominion Atlantic. This is a significant event. On the trivial side is Clarke’s note that on October 25, 1908, the Wolfville station and freight shed burned down.

In the month of October, there occurred one of the greatest natural disasters to strike the railway in Nova Scotia. This was the Saxby Gale of 1869. Clarke comments on the devastating effect of the gale in a single paragraph, while Marguerite Woodworth, in her Dominion Atlantic Railway history, goes into detail. From Clarke: “On the fourth of October, 1869, the (railway) tracks were badly damaged by the Saxby Gale. The dykes at Grand Pre were broken and the tide swept away the road bed. At this point trestle work had to be put in to allow the water to pass through and save more of the road from washing out.”

Woodworth wrote that “on the night of October 4, 1869, the wind rose until it became a veritable hurricane and with it came a great tide from the Minas Basin, rolling in over the dykes and carrying everything before it.”

This is an October both railroad and history buffs have marked due to its disastrous effect on the fledgeling railway and local communities. Woodworth leaves little to the imagination when she describes the destruction:

“Throughout the Valley orchards were laid low, the apples torn from the branches, uprooted trees lay across the highway; crops were flattened; brooks became swirling torrents. The most sorry spectacle was the line of railway between Kentville and Horton. Bridges, tracks and fencing had been swept away over an area of nearly 20 miles; the dykes along the right of way were nothing but a turbulent sea and the railbed had crumpled before the tidal wave like sugar.”

For several days the high tides swept more of the new railbed away, setting construction behind by several weeks. The October storm was the beginning of three months of high tides. Following the October gale, storms and high tides in November and December washed the railbeds away again. Students of the railroad mark the October, 1869, gale because of its devastation.

Although forgotten, another October event had a more lasting effect. Woodworth calls it “that day in October when Sir Charles Tupper invited the English capitalists to attend a meeting of the Nova Scotia Fruit Growers’ Association in Wolfville and find out for themselves the importance of building a railway.”

Shortly after he arrived here from Connecticut in 1761, Obedaiah Benjamin traded part of his Horton Township grant for land near the Gaspereau River, in what eventually became Gaspereau Village. A miller by trade, Benjamin constructed a dam on his property where he first operated a sawmill and later a grist mill. Other mills were later added to the site by Benjamin’s descendants.

From a property case study prepared by Robin H. Wyllie on behalf of the Dept. of Tourism and Culture, it has been determined that mills of various types have occupied the Benjamin site for at least 200 years. As mentioned in last week’s column, the site on the Old Dyke Road is now the property of George McBay. I also mentioned that a history of the mill site existed – the property case study – and Mr. McBay has given me permission to use material from it here.

Before giving a bare bones history of the site, which was once called Benjamin Mills, I should point out that it contains some of the oldest remaining buildings in this area with Planter connections. Thanks to George McBay the mill buildings are in excellent condition. Mr. McBay looked into the possibility of turning the site into a museum – hence the property case study – but the project is currently on hold. Hope has been expressed locally that the mill site will be preserved for future generations and its historical importance can be seen from the following excerpts from the property case study.

Obedaiah Benjamin arrived in Horton Township in 1761 with his wife Mary and two sons. Benjamin received one share in the Township, part of which he traded for land in the Gaspereau Valley. Rather than build on the Gaspereau River, where fluctuating water levels would be hazardous, Benjamin constructed a one-acre pond at the back of his property. First, a sawmill and later a grist-mill (no dates given) were built on the pond.

Benjamin died in 1806, leaving the Mill property to Abel, his fourth son. Between 1806 and 1820, Abel added a fulling-mill “with an oil house and two carding machines” to the site.

In 1821 Abel Benjamin sold the saw mill, fulling mill, oil house and carding machines to his son, Perez. In 1832 Benjamin sold the reminder of the mill property, the grist-mill, to his son Jonathan. In 1836 sole ownership of the mills was transferred to Perez. In July, 1844, Perez M. Benjamin sold the mill site to his son Irad.

In 1862 the mill property was sold to Irad’s son-in-law, Rufus Forsythe. The fulling machinery was obsolete by this time and was replaced by a bone mill and cider mill. The property then passed to Charles Lockhart (1869) and then was sold in 1877 to George Hunter, who was the grandson of Rufus Forsythe. Under Forsythe major alternations were made to the grist-mill. George McBay, the current owner of the mill property along with his son Kenneth, is a grandson of George Hunter.

In George McBay’s hands are various account and day books from 1876 to 1935, the date the grist-mill ceased operation. The property case study lists daily carding account, 1876 to 1882, grist-mill account and day books from 1878 until 1926 and bone mill accounts from 1895 to 1910; all are valuable historical records of the Gaspereau area and undoubtedly copies will be on display if the mill site becomes a museum.

Perez M. Benjamin is mentioned in Eaton’s History of Kings County due to his involvement in politics and Freemasonry. The property case study notes that Perez was elected as “a Reformer (Liberal) to the 15th Assembly 1837-1840 as Member for Horton and again from 1843 to 1847.”

Thanks to several readers, I am able to expand on the recent column about the Bout (Boot) Island Fox Company. One reader has supplied me with a photocopy of several interesting documents, the original Company six-page prospectus describing the operation, a financial statement dated December 31, 1914, and a shareholder’s proxy form; other readers have called to offer pertinent tidbits on the history of the fox ranch and the Island itself.

As mentioned in my September 10 column, J. F. Herbin, author, historian, Wolfville jewelry store founder and dedicated student of Acadian lore, was a director and the secretary-treasurer of the Company. School principal R. W. Ford, Wolfville, was president. A former Wolfville Mayor, T. L. Harvey, was a director; other directors were A.M. Wheaton, Wm. O. Regan, F. C. Dennison, Frank Gertridge and L. A. Armstrong, all of whom were either merchants or orchardists.

Also a director was A. T. McConnell, described in the Prospectus as a “well-known expert fox breeder,” from Port Hilford, N.S. Mr. McConnell, who had 30 years experience in the “fur business,” was the key figure in the Bout Island Fox Company; it was from his ranch that breeding stock was obtained and his expertise that would steer the Company on the right course.

One of the first acts of the new Company was to obtain breeding stock. In August of 1914 the Company purchased five “Silver black Foxes” – one pair of breeders and three pups – from Mr. McConnell for $40,000. By 1914 standards this was a large amount of money for two adult foxes, the pups being future breeding potential only. The Company’s future hinged on the breeding capacity of the adult foxes which in the prospectus were described as proven and “in their third breeding season.” As a further guarantee of success, McConnell was taken on to advise and guide the new operation. An experienced fox farmer, G. E. McGregor, was named as manager.

“The Bout Island Fox Co. begins business with all the experience and expert knowledge of Mr. McConnell at its disposal, and its financial success is assured from the outset,” reads the Company prospectus optimistically. “Every step forward will be carefully taken under the guidance of this skilled rancher.” McGregor is also described as having “full knowledge of the (fox farm) business.”

With proven breeding stock and experienced ranchers in key positions, why did the Bout Island Fox Company fail? To date I’ve been unable to determine this. A relative of a deceased former shareholder was told that the Company went bankrupt after operating for just over two years. The fledgling Company was at the mercy of the fur market, long known for its wild fluctuations in prices, and this may have been a factor.

Anyway, the prospectus provides a description of the Boot as it was over 80 years ago and it obviously has diminshed in size. “The ranch will be located on a 300-acre island in the Minas Basin, isolated, accessible and particularly adapted to the raising of foxes,” the prospectus reads. I doubt that the Boot is a 300-acre island today unless one measured it at low tide.

In the prospectus, Boot Island is said to have “a fine grove of 10 acres of wood.” That was in 1914; today little remains of the grove which apparently was gradually destroyed by roosting birds. In 1914 when the fox ranch was being set up, there was a large residence on the Boot and several outbuildings. When I visited the Island 35 years ago no traces of these buildings could be found.

Built by lumbering king S. P. Benjamin prior to 1887, the grist mill served the people of the Gaspereau Valley for well over half a century. In 1887 the George Hunter family purchased the mill from Benjamin (or perhaps from the firm of Benjamin-Lockhart) operating it until 1933 when it was shut down. The mill still stands near the Gaspereau River on property owned by George McBay, a nephew of George Hunter.

While the original millstones have been removed, the mill itself is in excellent condition despite its age. Maintained by the McBay family over the years, the building is now used for storage and is weathertight. There has been some talk of converting the mill into a museum, a possibility George McBay looked into a few years ago.

Mr. McBay tells me that a history of the old grist mill exists in the family records. I hope to have a look at this history in the near future and with the permission of Mr. McBay, possibly devote a column to it.

In the meanwhile, thanks to Roscoe Potter of Wolfville, I recently had the pleasure of looking through several old ledgers connected with the Gaspereau Valley. The ledgers came from a general store in Gaspereau that opened for business under Edward Davidson at least 100 years ago. During its lifetime the store changed hands several times and burned down and was rebuilt at least twice. No longer standing, the store was located in the village near the Gaspereau River bridge.

The old ledgers from the store are dry and straightforward, but there are tales to be gleaned from the hand-written pages. In those simple business entries we catch glimpses of life in the Gaspereau Valley from roughly 100 years ago up to the period between the first and second world wars. We see at a glance that early on a barter system existed, that exchanges of goods for services was common and on occasion little money changed hands.

In 1895, for example, we find an entry concerning George Miner (a well-known Gaspereau-White Rock area surname). Miner purchased 250 pounds of hay and made a partial payment with services valued at $2.00, paying the balance of the account in cash. Similar entries are found throughout the ledgers and it appears that often the goods supplied by the general store were paid for by manual labour – wood cutting, haying, thrashing and so on.

Two recurring entries I found interesting were references to apples and the cost of manual labour. For a day’s work in 1896, for example, Robert Martin was paid one dollar. Was this a generous wage for the times? I suppose it would depend on how many hours were in a work day in 1896. We can speculate that the dollar went a lot farther in 1896, buying five bushels of potatoes, for example. On the other hand, the ledger indicates that the cost of flour was $5.50 a barrel, so Robert Martin had to work more than five days to purchase one.

Now to the apple varieties.

The old ledgers mention apples long gone or rare, and apple varieties that can still be found in Annapolis Valley orchards. There is the Nonpareil, said to have been started by one of the first Planters, Col. John Burbidge and the Golden Russet, also introduced by Burbidge. Mentioned are Spys, Baldwins, Kings, Spitz, Ben Davis, Gravensteins and Bishop Pippins, which appeared to be the most common varieties grown a century ago. There are apple varieties I never heard of before – Newton Pippins, Fallawaters and the Loyalist. Oddly, the price of apples varied; some varieties such as Gravensteins fetched higher prices per barrel than coarser apples such as the Bishop Pippin.

From an Internet contact that’s always sending me weird and wacky tidbits of information comes a study on ice cream called flavorology. Seems the ice cream flavour you prefer is based on your character; in other words, distinct personalities correspond with ice cream flavours.

But don’t take my word for this; try the ice cream test to see if the Smell and Taste Treatment and Research Foundation of Chicago is on to something. First, pick your favourite ice cream flavour from the following – vanilla, chocolate, butter pecan, banana, strawberry, chocolate chip – and read on to see if your selection accurately indicates your personality.

According to flavorology studies, if you like vanilla you are colourful, impulsive, a risk taker who sets high goals and has high expectations of yourself.

If you picked chocolate, you are lively, creative, dramatic, charming, enthusiastic, and the life of the party.

If you like butter pecan, you are orderly, perfectionistic, careful, detail-oriented, ethical and fiscally conservative.

If you like banana, you are easy-going, well-adjusted, generous, honest and empathetic.

If strawberry is your favourite flavour, you are shy, yet emotionally robust, sceptical, detail-oriented, opinionated, introverted and self-critical.

If you like chocolate chip, you are generous, accomplished and competitive. You are charming in social situations.

I should say “etcetera, etcetera” here since I’ve only skimmed over the personality sketches. The flavorology study goes into much more detail, such as which flavour personalities are compatible. If your favourite flavour is chocolate chip, for example, you will be compatible with someone who likes butter pecan and strawberry.

Since the study results read like a horoscope, you should be sceptical. Besides, the study ignored some of the flavours popular at local roadside stands. What about heavenly hash, or my favourite, blueberry? And what about ice cream addicts who enjoy any and all flavours – are they multiple personality people?

Super Eggs

World record eggs? “Not eggzactly, but close,” Centreville retiree Arnold Burbidge likes to say about the giant eggs the hens used to produce on his boyhood farm in Canard.

“They were large enough to make the newspapers, in fact several newspapers,” Burbidge said when boasting about the size of the eggs. “I saved all the newspaper clippings. If I can find them I’ll show you.”

I heard about the monster eggs off and on for several months while Burbidge searched in vain for “newspaper proof” they had existed. Then one morning he came into the coffee shop with copies of six newspaper stories from 1945. “Canard Hen Lays Super Eggs,” one story was headed. Another was titled “Five Super Eggs From One Flock At Canard.” One editor, tongue-in -cheek, headed his story with “It Was Bound To Happen.”

The eggs were super indeed, the largest measuring just over nine inches around and close to eleven inches long, while the balance were slightly smaller in size. Burbidge thinks the eggs are records that still stand and he could be right.

Boot Island and the narrow channel that separates it from the mainland near Evangeline Beach has many attractions for nature lovers and naturalists. The island is a nesting site for cormorants, gulls and Blue Herons and was once a major roost for thousands of crows. In the channel, which is known locally as “the guzzle,” are remnants of ancient forests some four to five thousand years old.

Boot Island is also of interest to people who delve in local history. As mentioned before in this column, several families have farmed the Boot over the last 150 years. The best known may be the Leon Card family.

According to Marion Schofield, David and Abigail Hutchinson farmed on Boot Island prior to 1870. David and Abigail ran a sheep farm, one of several that may have been on the island over the years.

One of the tales circulating about Boot Island is that a commercial fox farm was once located there. Gordon Hansford remembers hearing about the fox farm when he was growing up in Wolfville. Hansford told me that Leon Card may have been associated with the farm in some capacity, perhaps as manager or overseer.

While looking for information on the fox farm I checked the Kirkconnell Room at Acadia University, the Courthouse Museum in Kentville and several books on local history. Several; people that I talked with remembered there was a “fox ranch” on the Boot but I couldn’t paper evidence of its existence.

Then came a discovery by Avon port resident Lolita Crosby: Documentation that a Boot Island fox farm had once been in operation and was a commercial enterprise incorporated under the Nova Scotia Companies Act.

In her late parent’s papers Ms. Crosby discovered a share certificate for the”Bout Island Fox Company.” The certificate had been issued to her uncle Emerson Coldwell and is dated December 3, 1914. The certificate reads in part: This certifies that Emerson Coldwell is the owner of 30 shares of the Capital Stock of the Bout Island Fox Company Limited. The document uses the old spelling for Boot Island, which in various historical documents has also been spelled Boute and Beaute.

Besides providing proof that Boot Island was once the site of a fox farm, the certificate offers valuable clues to its period of operation. The date of incorporation is given, which was March 25, 1912; from the date of the shares issued to Emerson Coldwell, we can see that the Fox Company was in operation for at least two years.

A prominent Valley figure, the historical writer and researcher John Frederick Herbin, has his signature on the certificate; Herbin was secretary-treasurer of the Company and signing as president was R. W. (or R. N) Ford.

The Boot Island Fox Company began operation with authorized capital of $100,000, no mean sum by turn-of-the-century dollar standards. The question now is how long was the Company in operation and what happened to it?

As I pointed out in [a recent] column, the Melansons were a prominent family in the Acadian period. In the column, I referred to two sources – Herbin and Brebner – that suggested Melanson was Scottish and not Acadian in origin.

Thanks to a reader, E. Roger MacLellan of Kentville, some of what I called the mystery surrounding the Melanson surname has been cleared up. Mr. MacLellan has done some research on the Melanson’s Scottish connection, which he kindly left at this newspaper office for me to read. Since his material expands on the Melanson/Acadian connection and will be of interest to history buffs, I’ve taken the liberty of quoting and paraphrasing portions of it in this column.

The following is taken from historical data in the Public Archives of Canada, the Nova Scotia Archives and Acadian Archives at the University of Moncton:

The Melanson family, Pierre and Priscilla, came from Scotland as settlers for the English in 1657 with their three sons, all born in Scotland, Pierre, Charles and John. The Melansons settled on the north side of the Annapolis River; the area they settled was called Melanson Village and it was located a short distance to the east of the old Scottish fort.

One of the sons, Charles, remained on the farm after his father’s death. The oldest son, Pierre, moved to Grand Pre with his wife and children when the Acadians settled this area. Pierre is mentioned numerous times in Acadian documents and he may have given his name to the community of Melanson in the Gaspereau Valley.

The above supports historian John F. Herbin’s contention that the Melansons were of Scottish origin. The following quotes (from the archival material Mr. MacLellan left for me to read) offer additional evidence that the Melansons were Gaelic.

“Until de la Tour died in 1666, Acadian was a remarkable place for that era with authority divided between two French administrators, one of whom was beholden to Scotland and who received support from New England. In these circumstances, the remaining Scots settlers seemed to have been content to integrate themselves into the local Acadian French society. One source gives the names of those Scots who stayed as the Paisleys, Collesons, Melansons, Peters and Kesseys.”

MacLellan/Melanson

“Over time they (the Scots settlers) became assimilated into French society and are now dispersed throughout North America with other Acadians, often with a name change. One such large group is the Melanson family, recorded in the census of 1671 and 1688, whose name is now spelled in a number of ways. In Stanford Reed’s book, The Scottish Tradition in Canada, (1976) it is suggested that the Melanson name may be a Frenchified version of MacMillan but the tradition within the Melanson family is that they were originally named MacLellan.

“Apparently relying on the 1671 census, some writers on early Acadian settlement conjecture that the Melansons are of Scottish origin but may have arrived with the early English settlers … However, there is an apparent absence of the surname Melanson in Scotland.

“Another Acadian source supports the Melanson family tradition of a name change from a MacLellan ancestor. They contend that Peter and Charles MacLellan emigrated from… Scotland to Boston. They later moved to Port Royal in 1657 where they settled, eventually changing their name to Melancon (sic).”

“Windsor has its temperance halls, Kentville its temperance men” goes a reference to the 19th century temperance movement in the Annapolis Valley.

While inaccurate (Eaton’s Kings County history mentions that a temperance hall existed at Horton around 1832) this quote implies that Windsor was highly organized when it came to fighting the evils of alcohol.

There was more intolerance of alcohol in the 19th century than there is today. And more towns than Windsor and Kentville had their temperance halls and temperance men. The Sons of Temperance were organized nationwide and their influence lead to the passing of the Canada Temperance act (Scott act) in 1878.

In effect, the Scott act gave any part of Canada the option of going dry if one-fourth of the electors so decided. In Nova Scotia this option was available to any city, town or county.

As a result of the Scott act there was a rapid growth of dry areas in the valley. The Sons of Temperance yearbook for 1891 reveals that this organization had 32 chapters in Hants County with 1805 members and 23 chapters in Kings County with 1433 members. This tells us either that Windsor was better organized than Kentville, as per the quote above, or it had more imbibers of alcoholic beverages.

Whatever the facts are regarding the two towns, the Sons of Temperance was a well-organized and militant force in the 19th century and well into the 20th, militant being the key word. There was a time when the men and women of the Sons of Temperance fought alcohol with more than words. This lead to various confrontations between the “drys” and the “wets”; one of these confrontations is remembered in the Valley today as the Townsend Raid.

Kentville in 1906. Since 1890 an organization known as the Kings County Temperance Alliance had been zeroing in on establishments that were illegal vendors of liquor. In Kentville the Porter House, managed by one “Mr. Townsend,” was flaunting the liquor laws and embarrassing its upright citizens. The Scott act was still in force at the time and apparently Kentville had voted dry. Since establishments such as the Porter House continued to sell liquor, however, the Temperance Alliance decided to become militant.

I have two accounts of the action taken by the Temperance Alliance, one from the Berwick newspaper, the other from Mabel Nichols Kentville history, The Devil’s Half Acre. Following is a synopsis of these accounts.

Aligned with the Women’s Christian Temperance Union and supported by town officials, the Alliance obtained a warrant to search the Porter House and seize all liquor found on the premises. On Monday, September 6, a body of 25 men met at The Advertiser office. Joined by the County constable, the County liquor inspector, clergymen and Acadia professors, the company moved to the Porter House; what transpired next is described in Mabel Nichols’ account.

“Townsend met them at the door and made a dash for his barroom when informed of the reason for the visit. The locked door was forced open and the raiders took possession of the illegal liquor. Townsend put up a strenuous opposition … but was handcuffed and led away (to jail).”

So much liquor was confiscated that a railroad boxcar was required to transport it to Canning were it was dumped in the river. After the raid, charges were laid against the Alliance but their actions were upheld by the Supreme Court.