One Spoon

“One spoon is all you get,” we are told as we sit down at the wooden table covered in wrinkled cotton sheeting. Our server dressed in 18th Century scullery maid clothing lays a large silver spoon for each of us on folded cotton napkins that are mended and patched. She shows us how to use the tip of the spoon’s handle to scoop sugar out of a pewter dish for our tea. In historic time this is the summer of 1744 (the last peaceful year before a six-week siege and defeat by the British) and we are eating at the Grandchamps Tavern in the French fortress town of Louisbourg. Everything is served in pewter dishes. There is a fire in the fireplace but no lighting other than the sunlight that streams through wavy glass windowpanes. In real time a blustery autumn wind blows outside, making the hot split pea soup I choose taste even better. The main course is either roasted chicken breast in a mushroom sauce, or fillet of cod. Both come served with a vegetable… buttered carrots. Bread Pudding for dessert. We share the long table with others and manage with our one spoon each.

Yes, we played tourist today and I usually don’t like recreated villages. But the Fortress of Louisbourg is a winner in every way. It has not been commercialized and we are amazed at the authenticity of everything. Here is a living history lesson that is as fun as it is educational. The folks who play the roles of soldiers and townspeople become those people, speaking in the first person… and they obviously love their jobs. Some have worked here for over 25-years. The original fortress town was built and held by the French during two periods; from 1720 to 1745, and from 1748 to 1758. British sappers and miners finally blew up the Louisbourg fortifications in 1760. The inhabitants were deported to France. In 1961 the Government of Canada decided to reconstruct one-fifth of the original Louisbourg. Cape Breton was experiencing an economical downturn from the collapse of two of its industries, coal mining and steel production. Construction of the fortress put unemployed men to work, and helped to start a tourist industry.

The walled gardens still bloom with flowers and cabbages, a rooster crows, brown and white sheep munch on grass behind fenced enclosures, and smoke rises out of stone chimneys. In the kitchens meat roasts on rotating spits at the open fireplace, and onionskins sit in a basket ready for dying cloth. In the fortress a soldier tells us how three men are assigned to each bed. Each soldier has a twenty-four hour shift, then two days off. Often they work a second job (unloading ships, or fishing) for extra money. Along with the history lesson on French and British (with New Englanders) hostilities, I learned some interesting trivia about life in the 18th Century. Did you know that there were no right and left shoes until the twentieth century? Prior to that each shoe was exactly the same, and in the case of wooden shoes, hollowed out to fit your individual foot. And did you know that French soldiers carried a sword but were not permitted to use them? They were only a symbol of authority, such as a policeman’s badge. They carried a musket too. This they could use.
... P. L. Morningstar