Greenland – A Poet's Inspiration

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Teacher, poet, activist, and political delegate, Isaac Newell was born in Greenland to Edward and Lilly Newell on January 1, 1917.¹ He graduated from the Church of England school in Burnt Head and in 1935 began working toward his teaching diploma at the Memorial University College (1925–1949). He was the recipient of the Old Memorials Association scholarship as a promising first-year student.² He graduated with his diploma in 1937.³

The young Isaac Newell, ca. 1940.
Photo courtesy of Archives and Special Collections (Isaac Newell Collection, Coll-090),
Memorial University of Newfoundland and Labrador.

Newell went on to teach for two years in Corner Brook before becoming a co-operative fieldworker for the International Grenfell Association (IGA) at St. Anthony, where he saw firsthand the hardships faced by those living in northern Newfoundland. He committed five years to the IGA, to help them set up co-operative workshops that could improve residents' standard of living.

In 1946, Newell ran for election (in the White Bay district) to the National Convention, the mechanism that had been established to determine Newfoundland and Labrador's political future. Once a Dominion, it had been governed by a non-elected Commission of Government since 1934. Newell was considered to be one of the more open-minded delegates. He supported the inclusion of the option of Confederation with Canada in the general referendum that was eventually held.

Politics was not Newell's passion, however, and after Newfoundland (as the province was initially named) joined Confederation in 1949, he enrolled at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario. After earning his Bachelor's degree in Education there, he went on to Duke University in North Carolina, receiving a Master of Arts, then Oxford University in England, where he received a Bachelor of Literature. He went back to Queen's in 1957, where he taught English Literature until shortly before his death on May 26, 1977.

Isaac Newell was an accomplished poet. Much of his poetry was inspired by his life in Newfoundland and Labrador, and especially by his childhood in Greenland. Ten years after his death, his widow, Jean Nast, gave a large collection of his writing, much of it unpublished, to the Special Collections and Archives at Memorial University. She also donated his collection of rare books, which included several important works by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Walking along the trail at Burnt Head, we have been inspired by this poem by Isaac Newell. We encourage you to think about the people who lived in these communities that once thrived here, when you walk in their footsteps.

I Walked an Old, Worn Road

I walked an old worn road yesterday

And silently out of the past and by my side

You came, and fell in step in the old way—

Birds hushed their song to listen, satisfied

With the magnitude of the dream; you smiled and said,

“Why did you never ask to be forgiven?

To this one moment all my soul has been given

Its yearnings in the houses of the dead.”

And then you vanished leaving me alone

To ponder o’er the riches time had wrought—

Alone, and yet my loneliness undone,

Buried with you forever in the vault.

And that is why I’ll always love to stray

Down an old dusty road of yesterday.⁴

Isaac Newell is not the only poet who has lived in and loved the Burnt Head area. Peter Barnes, a member of the Cupids Trails Committee, also composes poems inspired by the walks he takes along the trail. This one was inspired by his dog, Keely. It was written during one of many walks he took on the trail during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Keely, the Anamcara

We walked the trail, a sunny day;
Beauty, splendour, in full array.

Shoreline vistas, snow-covered path;

Strength in the body, the soul must hath.

Our steps were light, danced along;

Accompanied by the occasional song.

Time did slip and footsteps too;

Ice under snow, tiny tracks, a few.

Words, beauty, enriching life;

Opening space, disappearing strife.

Horizons loom on distant shore;

Snow clad hills, creatures adore.

The piles of rocks, tell tales of past;

When livyers dwelt, their gardens vast.

Storms did brew, blow through in gusts;

Danger loomed, in God they trust.

The snow it hides the common route;

I track to the right no thought about.

Keely knew with different sense;

To go to the left even snow immense.

We tracked my way, thought I knew best;

Stopped at times, to take a spell, a rest.

Only a matter of time, truth revealed;

The shorter route the snow had concealed.

I knew it then to trust the wise;

Keely'd sensed the snow's disguise.

A lesson learned, a gift for sure;

For he's my best friend, who could ask for more.⁵

 

¹ The Gazette, March 23, 1995, www.heritage.nf.ca/articles/arts/isaac-newell-collection.php.

² Memorial University College Newfoundland Calendar 1938-1939, https://collections.mun.ca/digital/collection/cns_tools/id/186801.

³Memorial University College Newfoundland Calendar 1941–42, https://collections.mun.ca/digital/collection/cns_tools/id/186770.

⁴Archives and Special Collections at Memorial University, Isaac Newell Collection, Coll-090, File 25, P 3.

⁵ Peter Barnes, Tuesday, March 21, 2021, at Anamcara, NF, Cupids, NL.

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