The Widow Who Walked to Halifax

Brier Island is one of those remote and windswept places that seem like the farthest end of the world. It’s breathtakingly beautiful, silent, and even today, it’s four hours and a bit by car from Halifax, assuming you are lucky with both ferries.

But in 1828, before the roads were built, there were only two ways to get from Brier Island to Halifax, the Colonial capital: by ship halfway around Nova Scotia, or through the woods. For a poor widow who couldn’t afford ship’s passage, it meant a long, long walk.

The widow Margaret Davis was the owner of a farm on Brier Island, or at least she said she was. A neighbour said otherwise, and because land registry in those days was informal at best, the Widow Davis did not have a deed to the land. So she went to Halifax to see the Governor.

At four o’clock in the morning of March 28, 1828, Margaret had some neighbours row her across the Grand Channel to Freeport, from which point she made her way to Annapolis, on the mainland.

There was a “road” from Annapolis to Halifax, surveyed and “cut out” in 1816. But even by 1828 it had not been improved enough even for wagon traffic. It was, at best, a track. Here and there along the way, few and far between, were primitive farm homesteads, and one or two villages. Sometimes you could sleep in somebody’s cowshed, and sometimes you could sleep under a tree. But none of those details stopped the Widow Davis’ month-long trek.

And did I mention that Margaret Davis was a Nova Scotian “German Loyalist” who spoke no English? Well, fortune smiled on her, because when she finally met with the Governor in early May, it turns out he was conversant in German. He listened to her story and felt that her details and handful of paperwork made sense, and ordered that a deed be made out and registered in her name.

So when I hear people moaning about hardships under the COVID lockdowns, I smile to myself and think about the Widow Davis walking a month through the woods from Annapolis to Halifax to get justice.

Similar Posts

  • Doc

    My dear old Dad made it to just past 102. His mind stayed sharp until the last year or two, and even then he could still carry on an interesting conversation. But because he slept so much and his dreams were so vivid, the boundary between reality and imagination became blurred. Really blurred. One evening…

  • Mutual Duplicity

    International mutual duplicity is nothing new. On August 24, 1939, Vyacheslav Mikhailovich Molotov for the Soviet Union and Joachim von Ribbentrop for Nazi Germany signed the Treaty of Non-Aggression between Germany and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, generally known as the Molotov-Ribbentrop Agreement. By it, Russia and Germany not only agreed not to attack…

  • Calculus

    I remember it like yesterday, the horrible cold clinging black cloud of frustration and humiliation of “not getting” calculus. To that point in life, math had always been easy for me, trivial, “do-it-in-your-head” easy, tangible, nice, chunky, visual, everything fitting precisely and predictably. And then came calculus. Calculus. Slippery, slidy, imprecise, it seemed more like…