Magaguadavic and Digdeguash
By William Hodgson Ellis
“Are not Abana and Pharpar rivers of Damascus better than all the waters of Israel?”
Let each man praise the river
That's dearest to his heart,
The Rhine, the Guadalquivir,
The Danube or the Dart.
Let others sing the Tavy,
The Tweed, the Wye, the Lea,
Give me the Magaguadavic,
The Digdeguash for me.
Some men choose lakes for fishing —
Ceceebe or Couchiching,
Namabinagashishing,
Kenongewagaming.
I'll take my affidavy
That what they say is bosh;
Give me the Magaguadavic,
Give me the Digdeguash!
Beneath the shady willow
Cast cunningly your flies,
His wake a widening billow;
Behold the monster rise!
No dreadnought in the navy
Could make so big a splosh;
You'd hear at Magaguadavic
The trout of Digdeguash!
Behind the purple spruces
The golden sunset dies,
As each his pipe produces
And puts away his flies.
The basket's full, the slavey
To-morrow morn shall wash
The spoils of Magaguadavic,
The loot of Digdeguash!
And when upon the table
They come to lie in state,
Hardly shall we be able
A decent grace to wait.
They need no sauce nor gravy,
For none can beat, by gosh!
The trout of Magaguadavic,
But those of Digdeguash!
O restless Bay of Fundy,
O mist and fog and rain,
Hope whispers I may one day
Behold you yet again.
How gladly would I brave ye,
Nor ask a mackintosh,
To see the Magaguadavic,
To fish the Digdeguash.
Callirrhoe's fair daughters
Have fled their ancient grots;
The voice of many waters
Turns shrieking into watts.
But spare, oh! spare, I crave ye,
Amid the general squash,
The falls of Magaguadavic,
The rips of Digdeguash!
1910
Note:
Magaguadavic = Pronounced Mackadavy.
Poem Analysis:
William Hodgson Ellis’s “Magaguadavic and Digdeguash” is a celebratory, humorous, and affectionate tribute to two rivers in New Brunswick, Canada. Through its playful language, rhythmic structure, and nostalgic tone, the poem elevates these relatively obscure waterways to mythic proportions, casting them as superior to the famous rivers and lakes traditionally praised in classical and European literature. Beneath the poem’s jovial surface lies a meditation on attachment to place, the joy embedded in simple pleasures, and the desire to preserve natural landscapes in a world increasingly shaped by modernity.
A playful challenge to classical and global geography
The poem opens with a biblical allusion: “Are not Abana and Pharpar rivers of Damascus better than all the waters of Israel?” This deliberate reference sets the stage for a light-hearted contest of rivers. Ellis invokes well-known European rivers—the Rhine, Guadalquivir, Danube, Dart—and acknowledges the universal human tendency to praise familiar landscapes. Yet the poem quickly pivots, asserting preference for the Magaguadavic (pronounced Mackadavy) and the Digdeguash. The humorous contrast between the famous rivers of the Old World and these local Canadian streams immediately signals the poem’s affectionate localism. It is a celebration of home, memory, and identity through geography.
Sound, rhythm, and the music of unusual names
One of the poem’s most distinctive features is its delight in language. Ellis revels in the playful, almost musical sound of Indigenous place names such as:
- Ceceebe, Couchiching
- Namabinagashishing
- Kenongewagaming
These names evoke a sense of authenticity, specificity, and cultural grounding. Their rhythm and alliteration mimic the flowing of streams or the flick of a fishing line. The poet uses these words not only for their meaning but for their sound, juxtaposing them with the more serious tone of traditional Romantic poetry. The effect is charming and comedic, presenting the rivers as unique and unforgettable on linguistic grounds alone.
A portrait of fishing culture and camaraderie
Ellis’s poem centers fishing as both pastime and ritual. Each stanza deepens the image of anglers along the riverbanks, crafting a setting infused with companionship and tradition. The poem’s fishing scenes are rendered with lively detail:
- The casting of flies beneath willows
- The widening wake of a rising trout
- The comparison of the fish’s splash to that of a naval dreadnought
These moments show the poet’s familiarity with fishing’s rhythms and the joy it brings. The angling imagery also functions symbolically. Fishing becomes a conduit for connection—with nature, with friends, and with the landscape that shapes memory and identity. The river is not merely a body of water but a site where leisure, challenge, and kinship converge.
Humor and exaggeration as expressions of love
Throughout the poem, Ellis relies on hyperbole to humorous effect. Trout from the Magaguadavic and Digdeguash are described with exaggerated grandeur, repeatedly positioned as the best in existence. The poem jokingly compares their splashes to naval vessels and praises their flavor as surpassing anything requiring sauce or gravy. These overstatements are clearly affectionate rather than literal. They demonstrate the poet’s sentimental bias toward the rivers of his home region, using humor to honor what cannot quite be captured by rational praise.
The phrase “by gosh!” embedded in the poem’s final dinner scene further reinforces the playful and colloquial tone. It mimics the voice of an angler boasting proudly about his catch, creating a sense of warm community and shared storytelling.
Nostalgia and the ache of distance
Despite the poem’s lightness, a strain of yearning appears in the later stanzas. When the poet addresses the “restless Bay of Fundy” and speaks of mist, fog, and rain, a wistful shading enters the poem. These lines suggest physical separation from the beloved rivers. The poem becomes not only a celebration but a remembrance—an attempt to keep the rivers alive through language.
The line “Hope whispers I may one day / Behold you yet again” reveals a deep emotional connection. Even without direct self-reference, the sentiment communicates longing for a homeland that shaped the poet’s earlier life. Through this longing, the rivers become symbols of continuity and personal history.
Nature threatened by modernity
The final stanza introduces a more serious concern beneath the poem’s jovial surface. Ellis laments the intrusion of modern technology:
“The voice of many watersTurns shrieking into watts.”
This couplet contrasts the natural roar of waterfalls with the artificial hum of electricity. Even the mythic daughters of Callirrhoe, drawn from classical mythology, have fled their ancient grottos, unable to withstand the disruptions of modern progress.
The plea—“spare… the falls of Magaguadavic, / The rips of Digdeguash!”—signals a shift from praise to preservation. The poem suggests that these rivers, cherished for their beauty and traditions, face the threat of industrial encroachment. Ellis calls for their protection, acknowledging the fragility of natural wonders in the face of human expansion.
Local geography transformed into poetic myth
Ultimately, the poem elevates the Magaguadavic and Digdeguash beyond their geographic modesty. Through humor, exaggeration, nostalgia, and heartfelt affection, Ellis transforms them into:
- Symbols of home and heritage
- Sites of pleasure and communal activity
- Emblems of natural beauty worth preserving
- Anchors of memory in a changing world
The rivers become mythic not because of their size or fame, but because of the emotional weight they carry. In this way, the poem demonstrates how landscape is woven into identity, and how even small streams can command immense devotion when tied to human experience.
“Magaguadavic and Digdeguash” stands as a lively, affectionate celebration of two New Brunswick rivers. Blending playful linguistic artistry, vivid scenes of fishing life, and a subtle yet poignant concern for the preservation of nature, the poem honors the deep emotional connections people form with the landscapes of their youth. While humorous on its surface, Ellis’s work carries a timeless message: the rivers that shape personal memory deserve both praise and protection.