Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-06-29
Actress Makes Discovery While
Seeking Local Color to Aid Her
to Take Chief Part in Dramati-
zatiOn Of LongfeIIow Poem.

WI GOO u''EU VHt ~ NM GOOdlCiHS ]
io'0es, "a HoIo in Normandy studying
local atmosphere the better to nit her /
self for the chief part in "EUange-
line" the drdmatization Of LongteE-
toio's poem lohich is to be staged in
this city in the tdH
From France she loiU 90. in JuIv.
TO Nora Scotia to continue her OBJ
serUdtions
She torites in an Interesting and
original tcdV Of her search for de- /
scenddnt Of the old Acddians.
FALAIsE, NORMANDY, June 2s
After several weeks of surfeiting
myself with the theater of Paris and /
Berlin, l set out for Normandy from /
whence the Acadians came and where, .
! doubtless, the ancestors Of the gIori- .
! Gus wanderers had stepped themselves .
in the religion ana faith immortaliz- .
| ed by Longfellow-fOr | sought for
| communion with Evangeline.
admit l had a faint hope that 4
| somewhere | might find a descend
| ant Of a returned Acadian with tale
/ or relic OF Acadian days
After consulting Baedecker. I de- 4
| cided to go to Caen. only four hours /
from Paris.
I landed in Caen and called upon ,
| the British Consul, there being no |
! American representative in the town /
| He was located H. a little side street .
! Conspicuous on his side door was a .
| sign reaCing, "Ofice hours from to .
g. 1t was but 1:45, but l had the .
temerity to ring.
Points Pointedly To Sign.
was greeted by a sort Of faded .
red edition of Lawrence D'Orsay, car
! rying a red cotton print napkin and .
a red CLEAN in his eye, which inform
| ed me that l had disturbed the states
man at his lunch. With the unoccu-
/ pied index finger he pointed al the
| Office hour sign.
Il saw it," l replied, and I apol-
! ogize; but ! am rather in a hurry, /
| and "Oh, you're an American" he /
| interrupted with mingled tone of dis !
covery and accusation.
Yes" l replied.
We'll, ! cannot talk to you now"
| accompanied by an embracing Of the .
| long red mustache with the long red .
napkin.
81 am sure you can tell me what I .
want to know" I persisted do you /
| know anything Of the Acadians?"
"Of what?" he rejoined.
You have read 'Evangeline? p" !
volunteered.
Cannot say I ever heard of it,"
! ne replied
IT'S a rather we'll known poem"
I ventured, written by a Henry w. /
| Longfelow."
Gives a o'orsay Laugh.
"Ha! Ha Hal" he guffawed in .
! D'Orsay's most approved cultural, |
I've far too much to do to bother
my head with that sort of rot Really |
| you know, I don't think I'm the per-
son you're seeking at all"
| ! looked at him, as he again tried /
| to suspend himself on the mustache |
| had one good laugh and agreed. Il
guess, possibly, you're not"
| Twenty miles from Caen is Bayou /,
/ Norman village where the old Nor
man spirit and surroundings have been |
/ practically untouched by time. At 4
1 o'clock in a mid-week afternoon the |
| villagers, neatly dressed, were turn !
/ ing out OF their homes at every side
and all filing to church, fine old cath |
edral built in the eleventh century. l |
never witnessed so unanimous a re-
ply to the call of a church bell.
There. indeed. was the spirit Of !
EVangeliEe, as LongfellOw breathed # |
| into the life in Acadia. There were
| the people who looked only to their |
priest for guidance and stayed their |
hands at his command when their all |
was taken from them. l stood near |
| the cathedral as these pious people /
| entered, and l know from the faces /
some spiritual, others deeply repOseful, |
that religion was something more |
| than a form.
Found No Aeadians /
| l sought for a trace of a descend |
ant of a returned Acadian, but my |
| search was in vain. except that II
| found the Clew which later led to an |
| interesting meeting in this place.
Finally I gave up Caen for this |
place, and on the Oldest street (the |
! Rue Val d'Ante) 1 found an ACadian |
! descendant. She is ninety four and |
! her name is Arlette La Croix-I
Lamed. as were so many Norman |
| girls, after the fair Arlette. the tan |
ner's daughter who fascinated Rob |
| ert the Devil, became his wife, and |
| later the mother of William the Con !
| queror.
| This old. sunny faced, toothless
woman lives all alone in one Of the |
| tiny stone ruins that line this most
picturesque old street.
Her husband and children died
years ago and. so far as that part
! Of Normandy is concerned, she is !
| the last of the Acadians. Her great !
| grandfather. Pierre Archambault, |
/ she told me, was driven from Grand |
| Pre- and landed in Louisiana.
| After long suffering he gathered |
enough money to return with his chill |
dren to Falaise. His eldest boy her |
grandfather had frequently related to
| her tales Of wild America and the In |
dams
Never Heard Longfellow Legend.
She had never heard of the legend |
| of EvangeIine and, of course, had
never read the poem. l gave her a |
COPY It was bound in red, and I am
sure the cover delighted her. As best
| I could I told her some Of the story. |
! She was entranced and assured me
| that she would find some one who
knew English to translate it.
/ There was delightful freshness
| about this old woman. She was
wrinkled. weather beaten and grow
| ing feeble, but her eyes twinkled and
| she laughed with the spontaneity Of
child
In her tiny room was a very old
| Bible, well-thumbed missile, and