Oh, mon Dieu, Votre mer est
si grande, et mon bateau si petit!
Cape
Breton and fishermen are, and have
been, as linked as the stars to a night sky. The following poem reflects the perils
and hopes of that bond. The piece was found in a small book (140 pp) I have
here in my library called Cape Breton Tales by Harry James Smith and was
published by the Atlantic Monthly Press, Boston. There is no date of publication, but it reads “Copyright
1920.” It describes a Calvaire,
a very large crucifix the history of which I have yet to discover, located at
Arichat on Ile Madame, Cape Breton. See pencil sketch below (by Oliver M.
Wiard), an illustration from the book, done at Arichat.
BELOW THE POEM IS A DISCUSSION CONCERNING THE LOCATION OF THE CALVAIRE
To conserve space, I have taken the liberty of running lines together, i.e., lines one and two on one line. The upper-case letters mid-line identify the beginning of the next line as written.
Grey rocks amidst eternity-There stands and old and frail
calvaire,
Upraising like an unvoiced cry Its great black arms against the
sky.
For storm-beat years that cross has stood: It slants before the
winter gale;
And now the Christ is marred and pale; The rain has washed away
the blood
Than ran once on its brow and side, And in its feet the seams
are wide.
But when the boats put out to sea At earliest dawn before the
day,
The fishermen, they turn and pray, Their eyes upon the calvary:
“O Jesu, son of Mary fair, Our little boats are in your care.”
And when the storm beats hard and shrill Then toil-bent women,
worn with fear,
Pray for the lives they hold so dear, And seek the cross across
the hill:
“O Jesu, son of Mary mild, Be with them where waves are wild!”
And when the dead they carry by Across that melancholy land,-
Dead that were cast up on the strand Beneath a black and
whirling sky,-
They pause below the old calvaire; They cross themselves and say
a prayer.
………………….
O Jesu, son of Mary fair! O Faith, that seeks thy cross of
pain!
Their voices break above the rain, The wind blows hard, the
heart lies bare:
Clutching through dark, their hands find Thee, O Christ, that
died on Calvary!
Comment
on this Poem or the history of this cross
Information received in November 2001 from Anne Turner, former resident of the Arichat area:
When she was a child (ca. 1950) her family lived in
Arichat South in a place called Robins and she and her sisters used to pick blueberries
at a place called Butte du Calvaire. It was a big hill and on top off it was a
big boulder that was once hit by lightning and split in half…they used to eat
lunch there…how it got its name Anne does not know.
Anne continued to be interested in my quest for facts and
when Olive Dawson offered and provided me with some excellent geodetic maps of
the area I sent them to Anne so that she might identify the location of the
Butte. It soon became apparent that the distance was too far from Arichat to have
been the location of the Calvaire pictured in the sketch and Anne allowed as
how the top of the Butte area showed no evidence of a road ever having been on
the hill. As a result, we turned to the cemetery near the Arichat church where
there stands today a large crucifix. Anne was kind enough to take and send to
me photographs of this Calvaire and the surrounding area.
Even today the cross can be easily seen from the sea, it
is but a short distance from the road; in fine, it is very likely the site of the
Calvaire in the sketch. Whether the same icon as existed in 1907 is open to
question.
I still seek the aid of an Ile Madame nonagenarian who
might recollect another earlier such crucifix and thus clarify the historical
background of the symbol. Thus, while it is possible that there was once a
Calvaire on Butte du Calvaire hill, it is not the one depicted in Smith’s book.
JBD
Click
here For a story from Smith’s book and some
background on the author
NOTE:
Apparently no scanned material (images, photographs, text from the book) can be
seen without Internet Explorer and Microsoft Word installed in your
computer. Contact me
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