Nova Scotians recognize a number of subdivisions of their province, often ascribing to each a particular cultural identity and specific characteristics. While agreement on precise location and boundaries of such cultural subunits is not universal, Cape Bretoners are widely recognized as distinct from Mainlanders, and Lunenburgers, Cockerwitters, people from the Bay Shore, Acadians, Blacks and other identities are conventionally recognized and more-or-less specifically located in the public mind. Many of these subdivisions have clear historical derivations in the settlement history of the province, and reflect upwards of two centuries of occupance of particular pieces of territory. A generation ago many of the distinguishing characteristics of particular subdivisions were much more marked than they are at present, but the last 25 years has seen a great increase in accessibility and travel, and an unprecedented invasion by cultural forces (and people) from the wider North American society. What formerly seemed to be culturally distinctive behaviour --dialect, regional cuisines, folklore-- is now much attenuated. This disappearance of local cultural homogeneity and overall variety is largely unnoticed and unlamented, except perhaps in the specific cases of Cape Breton (where a neo-Scots cultural resistance movement has long been established, replete with Gaelic College and Highland Games) and, more recently, in some Acadian areas where a new pride and interest in Acadian culture is developing.
The question of the origins of most of these culturally distinctive communities is fairly easily handled (and reasonably well documented) by reference to conventional historical sources; every schoolchild in Pictou and Antigonish counties learns of the arrival of the Hector, and many can trace their own families to that immigration. Likewise, the story of the Expulsion of the Acadians in the romanticized version of Longfellow has been a common property of North American schoolroom culture for more than a century, and a landscape of Historical Sites likewise underlines the comings and goings of various groups. Local histories exist for many counties, and such specious identities as Loyalist and Planter are still given local credence. The history of the Twentieth Century development of the various subregions is less well understood and less commonly studied, and there is no source that specifically addresses the internal migration history of the province --the exchange of population between regions, occasioned by such temporally variable forces as opportunity and labour demand. Some of the elements of this geographical mobility are quite obvious: Halifax has grown largely by attracting migrants from all over the province, while Cape Breton has suffered generations of outmigration because of the dearth of opportunities for young people. More is known of external migration than internal; thus, until the mid-1920s the single most common migration destination for Nova Scotians was "the Boston States". In the 1950s and 1960s the young went Down the Road to Ontario, and in the palmy days of the mid-70s Alberta was a common destination. While a return flow of emigrants has been more or less constant (fluctuating in volume according to the structure of opportunities elsewhere), the flow of immigrants @U[to] Nova Scotia from other places has generally been quite modest during this century. There are some interesting and quite un-studied exceptions to this generalization, including Greeks, Lebanese, Americans, and assorted freehand hippies, but they are a separate subject.
While there is a clear attenuation of regional distinctiveness due to such influences as television, school amalgamation, improved transportation and simple passage of time, there remain landscape features and bits of behaviour that still index clearly the fascinating variety that was formerly more obvious amongst Nova Scotians. Architectural styles are one observable instance, and a systematic study of features such as gables, window styles, floorplans and doorways would provide a quantitative basis for the partition of Nova Scotia into its constituent subregions --precisely because people who belong to face-to-face social units generally share notions of style and appropriate external behaviour.
Another easily observed index of cultural identity is provided by the patterns of surnames that can be found in many localities in Nova Scotia. Areas of North America that have histories of in- and outmigration, or of successive waves of settlement, do not retain the sort of distinctiveness that one finds in the Maritime provinces generally, simply because the Maritimes have tended to be sources of outmigrants rather than destinations for inmigrants. A drive down a back road anywhere in the province provides plentiful evidence of this: names on mailboxes recur, and sometimes settlements have the name of their most numerous inhabitants (Comeauville, Wile Settlement, Hebbs Cross, Gibson Woods, Davison Street, etc). Likewise, even a cursory examination of the telephone directory reveals clusters of people with a single surname. While this phenomenon is locally recognized in such unofficial and undocumented placenames as Pinch Mountain and Kellyville, it seems not to have been studied systematically in Nova Scotia or elsewhere. The spatial distribution of single surnames may itself be of considerable interest, but the regional patterns that can be derived from the mapping of sets of surnames provide a quantitative basis for the identification of interactive subregions; comparison of distributions at two or more points in time enables an investigator to infer the directions and volume of migration, and thus to address (among others) questions of dynamics and variation in perceived opportunity structures. Other questions of local and wider significance which may be illuminated by the mapping of surname territories include the location, structure and maintenance of boundaries between adjacent cultural regions; the persistence of land-tenure and inheritance patterns; and the relative degree of isolation of particular subregions from one another.
Data sources for the mapping of surname territories include telephone directories (especially dependable in the last two decades), voter registration lists, and the MacAlpines Directory series of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The telephone and MacAlpines directories have the advantage of being organized by household, thus approximating family units, and by community. The liabilities of directories should also be noted, however: one makes the gratuitous assumption of universality (clearly every household does not have a telephone), and one is limited by the profound patrilineal bias of North American surname customs. The latter is the more worrisome, because about half of the population is simply lost to the analysis, or in the worst case the migration patterns of women are simply overlooked. To some extent this may be remedied on a local basis by the examination of surname patterns in marriage records (licenses, parish registers) once surname mapping has identified candidates for regional subunits. In short, the technique of mapping surnames is not sovereign or infallible, but it can point the way to interesting questions that bear on matters of regional constitution and persistence, and it has the advantages of being simple to undertake and making use of readily accessible data sources.
A brief description of specific techniques and concepts will make the method clearer. The units of record are the surname and the community, and one simply tallies the occurrences of names in places and maps the result. The spatial pattern commonly has one (or sometimes more than one) focus, which I identify as a patrihearth, implying that it is the likely center from which the surname in question has spread to other areas. There are some obvious problems and limitations, not least the Conundrum of the Smiths: it is all very well to assume that households that share an uncommon name such as Publicover or Thibeault are in some sense a single Family (e.g., that their descent may be traced to a common apical ancestor who settled at a particular location at a specific time), but common names like Smith and LeBlanc and Brown cannot be assumed to share descent; nonetheless, even the common names have spatial distributions which may be of use in the identification of boundaries. The specific mapping techniques used in the examples below begin with a local-averaging mapping program (SYMAP) that generates a model of surname distribution as a surface, producing line-printer maps with specified levels of generalized density (which might be interpreted as a probability surface --for example, the likelihood that one would find LeBlancs in a particular area). For clarity of presentation the line-printer maps were traced using a microcomputer CAD package and drawn with a pen plotter. In some cases (such as those for Shelburne County) the maps show the numbers of households of a particular surname in named communities. Later versions of the maps employ proportionally-sized circles, and are bothh more graphically satisfying and more accurate than the local averaging approach.
Let us first consider an example of regional definition and migration history in southwestern Nova Scotia. A commonly recognized subregion is "The French Shore", generally described by informants as lying between Digby and Yarmouth and containing a sizeable population of Acadians. To the outsider the area is immediately distinctive because of its immense churches and closely-packed settlement pattern. A motorist passing south along Route 1 experiences it as an almost continuous ribbon of 25 miles of neatly-painted single-family houses set cheek-by-jowl and looking out over la Baie Sainte Marie. Unseen from the highway are roads stretching inland to hamlets in the woods and along the Dominion Atlantic Railway tracks. And then suddenly the houses end, one crosses the county line into Yarmouth, and a different architectural style and settlement pattern begins abruptly and continues to Yarmouth town itself. A cursory glance at the telephone directories for Meteghan and Saulnierville reveals almost unbroken columns of French surnames, many of which are also to be found in Yarmouth itself. Upon further investigation in the vicinity of Yarmouth one finds that there are other Acadian communities to the southeast of the town, each with a distinctive set of surnames. And then once again the county line (between Yarmouth and Shelburne) abruptly delimits cultural territory as one passes from Acadian to Cockerwitter communities. To some degree the distinctiveness and autonomy of the Acadian areas is recognized by the provincial government, since the Municipalities of Clare and Argyle (in Digby and Yarmouth counties respectively) manage local affairs separately from the English-dominated Municipalities of Digby and Yarmouth.
A more detailed examination of surname territories reveals remarkable concentration of many Acadian surnames, and comparison of 1976 and 1914 data suggests that the single most important change in distribution has been a pronounced tendency for Acadians to move to Yarmouth, the nearest large town and opportunity center. In 1914 Yarmouth was a predominantly English town --about 8% of the individuals (heads of household and single persons) listed by MacAlpines had French surnames. In 1976 Acadian surnames accounted for about 15% of the telephone listings on the Yarmouth exchange, and for about 25% of the households in Yarmouth itself. The summary maps reflect this shift of distribution, but also index a number of other important spatial processes within the set of 26 most common Acadian surnames: it is quite clear that there were in both 1914 and 1976 several separate concentrations --in other words, "the French Shore" was and is not one area but 3 or 4-- and that these concentrations were and are separated by areas in which few Acadians live. The most striking of these 'non-Acadian' zones is that in the vicinity of Port Maitland, in northwestern Yarmouth county and adjacent to the District of Clare, the 25-mile stretch described above. Even today there are very few Acadian names to be found south of the county line and there is almost no evidence of cultural contact; @u[pate de rapure] or rappie pie, the centerpiece of southwest Nova Scotia Acadian cuisine, is all but unknown in the vicinity of Port Maitland ("that's @U[French] food!" was a comment of a fifth-grader, who had never tasted it and was not anxious to try). Just what the social and cultural boundaries are and how they are maintained in this area is an interesting empirical question. Both linguistic and religious distinctions are evident, and it is clear that in most things the two populations have kept their backs turned to one another.
This is not to say that the various Acadian areas of southwestern Nova Scotia are in close contact with one another; there is some visiting back and forth, but each subregion has its own distinctive set of surnames, and comparison of 1914 and 1976 distributions reveals a strong tendency for the maintenance of territorial integrity. This may be a simple matter of post-marital residence rules (i.e., a patrilocal preference), but there is at least an indication that Meteghan and Pubnico and Wedgeport young people are even now most likely to seek and find spouses in their own communities. Analysis of parish records would establish this matter clearly. There is now a tendency for Acadians from the several areas to see themselves as a single people with common problems, such as the threat to their distinctive culture posed by assimilation to English culture, and Universite Ste. Anne certainly serves to some extent as a common rallying point for the reassertion of the validity and value of Acadian culture. Many of the Acadians in Yarmouth town are Anglophone, and the Acadian dialect has suffered a pronounced invasion by English lexical items; monolingual Francophones are to be found only among the old people.
Examination of patterns of migration and settlement of Clare and Argyle Acadians in other parts of the province makes it clear that migration destinations and pathways are quite limited; with very few exceptions it is to Halifax that internal migrants are drawn, although a few have 'stopped off' in the Annapolis Valley (which lies between Digby and Halifax) and small numbers can be found in other centers like Truro. Acadian names are quite rare along the South Shore, although industrial developments in the Bridgewater area have drawn a few migrants. The primacy of Halifax as a destination is found for other subregions as well, but Acadians seem particularly to have perceived other parts of the province as offering few opportunities. It would be very interesting to examine the patterns of emigration to the Boston States over the last century; Acadian proximity to the overnight boats that connected Yarmouth and Boston probably led to a sizeable movement of ambitious young people along that corridor, but the migration stream is largely unstudied. The Boston telephone directory for 1976 shows the following numbers of distinctively Acadian names: Comeau 33, D'Entremont 18, Deveau 17, Saulnier 9, and Surette 19.
The concentration of particular surnames in limited areas is exemplified by two cases from southwestern Nova Scotia, one Acadian and one English. The former is the most extreme case: 40% of the households in the Pubnico exchange have the surname D'Entremont, and an additional 15% are named D'Eon. The several communities within the exchange (Lower West Pubnico, Middle West Pubnico, Upper West Pubnico, Pubnico, Upper East Pubnico, etc) are predominantly Acadian and have always been primarily fishing villages. There appears to be very little overlap of surnames between Pubnico and the nearby Acadian settlements of Eel Brook and Ste. Anne du Russeau, and relatively few D'Entremonts and D'Eons have migrated to Yarmouth. These facts suggest the essentially closed nature of the social system of Pubnico, and point to a complex of interesting empirical questions for future research.
The second case is that of the Nickersons of Cape Sable Island and adjacent parts of the mainland. Again we find a pronounced concentration and noteworthy persistence: the 1896 MacAlpine's reveals 297 of a total of Nova Scotia's 415 Nickerson families (72%) at the southernmost tip of Nova Scotia, and the 1976 telephone books locate about 50% of the 765 Nickerson households in the same area. Yarmouth (some 50 miles by road) and Halifax (about 140 miles distant) are the two main migration destinations, but a sprinkling of Nickersons has found their way to Shelburne and Liverpool (along the road to Halifax) and to the Annapolis Valley.
One would wish to know which of Nova Scotia's regions are particularly prone to immobility, and the study of surname distributions can serve to point the way. The southernmost tip of the province seems to be a candidate for the most unchanging area from a surname distribution point of view. Both Nickersons and D'Entremonts evidence a propensity of people to stay put, to remain within social settings that are familiar; other surnames in this general area follow a similar pattern, and also serve to define subregions within the area colloquially recognized as The South Shore. Acadian areas are relatively easily identified by their "French" surnames, and subdivisions of non-Acadian territory can be made on the basis of clustering of names. Thus, people in Yarmouth sometimes speak of "Cockerwitters" as a more-or-less distinct group of people; it is important to note that the term is one of reference by outsiders, and not necessarily a label used by people to refer to themselves. Careful examination of maps of the South Shore reveals a body of water called Cockerwit Passage in westernmost Shelburne County, and it is in this region that Cockerwitters are to be found. The precise boundaries of the Cockerwitter territory are not clear in the minds of informants, although reference is made to the communities of Woods Harbour and Shag Harbour, and sometimes Cape Sable Island is also included (although "Cape Islanders" are often recognized as another identifiable group). Examination of surname distribution data for Shelburne County suggests a number of quite clearly bounded territories, among which there seems to have been relatively little interchange: there is a cluster of surnames that extends from Woods Harbour to Barrington and includes Cape Sable Island; another distinct but smaller cluster seems to ring Negro Harbour; Shelburne defines the center of another (with extension inland); and Lockeport possesses still another distinctive array. In all cases the pattern observed in 1914 is little altered in 1976, a circumstance calling for explanation.
The remarkable stability of surname territories and subregions makes sense in terms of the subsistence base of Shelburne County specifically and the South Shore generally; the single resource upon which most households have always been dependent is the sea, and a long history of changes in conditions of the fishery has had and continues to have strong effects on the circumstances and prospects of individuals and families. Beyond fishing within family groups (generally patrilineally defined), there are very few opportunities for young men in the county; consequently outmigration is the main option for those who do not wish to fish or have no access to boats. A comparison of the 1914 and 1976 distributions of Nickersons in Nova Scotia as a whole indicates something of the extent and pattern of outmigration from Shelburne County during this century: Halifax is the main opportunity center, but many have also left Nova Scotia. Again the Boston telephone directory lists 78 Nickerson households and thus gives a clue to a prominent destination.
A similar pattern of isolated and minimally-interacting coastal communities characterizes the whole Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia; in recent years a modern highway system has connected the settlements and facilitated travel to such retail trade centers as Yarmouth, Shelburne, Liverpool and Bridgewater, but the basic patterns of interaction that facilitate courtship and spouse selection (and thus give rise to surname distributions) are little changed. Just @U[how] little is an empirical question, which might be resolved by examination of marriage license data and wedding announcements once the general outlines of regional structure are clarified by surname mapping. One expects to find that the mean distance between the home communities of bride and groom has increased during this century, but it is likely that values for this variable will remain comparatively low for remote areas of Nova Scotia.
The identification of interactive subregions may be continued through Queens and Lunenburg counties using the same methods of surname mapping, assisted by local definitions of relevant subunits. The most numerous single category on the South Shore is "Lunenburgers", sometimes spoken of as "Dutch" although the European origins of this migration stream are in the part of Germany referred to as The Palatinate. Brought to Nova Scotia in the late 18th century as dependable Protestant settlers, the inhabitants of Lunenburg County have retained genetic, folkloric, phonological and culinary distinctiveness into the 20th century. The ecological setting is more varied and richer than in Shelburne and Queens county, and substantial numbers of Lunenburgers were able to establish themselves as farmers and woodsmen; fishing and shipbuilding were mainstays of the 19th century economy which saw large numbers of young men go to sea in Lunenburg-built schooners, of which the Bluenose (immortalized on beer bottles and the back of the 10-cent coin) is the most famous.
The surname distribution patterns of Lunenburg county are generally associated with topographical features, and several distinct sets are observable in the 1914 maps. The La Have River seems to form a sharp boundary (trans-La Have and cis-La Have?), and each of the several larger towns (Bridgewater, Lunenburg, Chester, New Germany, Mahone Bay) has its own array of family names, which may be seen as overlapping territories. In addition, several marked concentrations are found in coastal villages: many of the inhabitants of Blue Rocks are named Tanner, Cherry Hill and Vogler's Cove are mostly Conrads, and Creasers are concentrated in Riverport. Several names have a pronounced linear pattern, following either a river (Publicovers on the south shore of the La Have, inland Conrads and Crouses on both banks) or a road (Hiltzes and Keddys along Route 10). Several names have multiple concentrations (Smith, Zinck, Veinot), suggesting multiple brothers among early settlers.
While many Lunenburg names are clearly "German" in character (Whynacht, Ernst, Spindler, Rhodenizer), some have been transformed into a more North American appearance; thus, Veinot and Whynott are alternate spellings of the original Whynacht, and it is interesting to note that the three variants occupy different areas of the county. There is little evidence of name-changing at the time of World War I, such as is quite common among less assimilated German communities in Ontario and parts of the United States; Smith was presumably Schmidt at some point in the 18th century, but Lunenburgers have not identified themselves as ethnic Germans for nearly 200 years. Even their religious affiliations reflect this: there are a few Lutheran churches, but most are Anglican and United Church. A few elements of the formerly distinctive Lunenburg dialect(s) remain, but there have been no speakers of German as mother tongue for several generations. Fondness for sauerkraut and a few other delicacies may be noted, and distinctive forms of sausage (Lunenburg Pudding) are made in several localities, but North American supermarket-based eating habits have become quite general in the last generation.
Proximity to Halifax (now only about an hour from Bridgewater by car) has made for a noteworthy migration stream, and a comparison of the distributions of Conrads in 1914 and 1978 is suggestive of the process and magnitude. The economic forces that created the present distribution are fairly easily outlined. The small coastal communities that once supported active small-boat fisheries have been depopulated, and fishing is now centred in a few localities like Lunenburg and Riverport. Industrial development in the Bridgewater area has attracted migrants from many formerly sovereign areas within the county, as well as from more distant places; thus, most of the Acadian names found in the South Shore region are clustered near Bridgewater. Other opportunities have drawn Lunenburgers across the province toward the Annapolis Valley, with a noteworthy tendency for people to follow the nearest road --Hiltzes and Keddys tend to fetch up in the vicinity of Kentville (where Route 12 comes down off the South Mountain), while Rafuses and Veinots are more common in the mid-Valley area.