ARRIVAL AT DARLINGTON.—KIND RECEPTION.—MY FRIEND’S LOCATION.—HIS
INEXPERIENCE.—DAMAGE TO HIS LAND BY FIRE.—GREAT CONFLAGRATION AT
MIRAMACHI.—FOREST FIRES.—MIGHTY CONFLAGRATION OF THE 6TH OF
OCTOBER.—AFFECTING STORY OF A LUMBER-FOREMAN.—HIS PRESENCE OF MIND, AND
WONDERFUL PRESERVATION.—THE SAD FATE OF HIS COMPANIONS.
I was now very near to my ark of refuge, and the buoyant spirit of
early youth, with its joyous anticipations of a radiant future, bore me
exultingly forward. It might have been said of me in the beautiful
lines of the poet:
“He left his home with a bounding heart,
For the world was all before him;
And he scarcely felt it a pain to part,
Such sun-bright hopes came o’er him.”[1]
[1] Alarie A. Watts.
Two hours’ brisk walking brought me to the long-looked-for end of my
journey. I was received with the greatest kindness and hospitality;
and, in a few days, felt quite at home and comfortable in my new
quarters.
After some days’ rest, I commenced operations by assisting my friend on
the farm and in the store. From my practical knowledge of farming,
acquired upon my mother’s estate, I was soon installed as manager in
that department.
Our farm contained upwards of two hundred acres of cleared land, the
largest proportion of which consisted of meadows and pastures, but the
soil was light and sandy, and altogether very indifferent. My friend,
Colonel B—— had been imposed upon by the Yankee, of whom he had bought
it, and no wonder, when I tell you that my friend had formerly held a
situation under Government, and had lived in London all his life.
Only the first three concessions of this township were settled at this
time, the remainder of the land being generally in the hands of
absentee proprietors. I am happy to say, the absentee tax has had the
effect of throwing vast quantities of these lands into the market.
This township, like Whitby, is now well settled, and though not
generally equal in regard to soil, is still considered a good township.
Bowmanville is the principal town, containing about twelve hundred
inhabitants. In 1825 it only boasted a grist-mill, saw-mill, a store,
and half-a-dozen houses. I mention this, merely to show how much the
country has improved in a few years. This is not an isolated fact it
applies to nearly all Canada West.
My intention was, to stay with my friends till the ensuing spring, and
to get a little insight into Canadian farming, clearing land, &c., that
I might have some experience before commencing operations on my own
account.
The situation of my friend’s house was close to the Toronto road,
partly built of logs and framework: it had been designed by the former
Yankee proprietor, and could certainly boast of no architectural
beauties. We lived about a mile and a half from the lake shore, and I
took advantage of my vicinity to the water to bathe daily. I found
great refreshment in this, for the weather was very hot and dry. The
drought lasted for some time, and among its consequences, I may mention
the prevalence of extensive fires.[2] Several broke out in our
neighbourhood, and, at last, the mischief reached our own farm. It
destroyed several thousand rails, and spread over forty or fifty acres
of meadow land. We ultimately stopped its further progress in the
clearing, by ploughing furrows round the fire and a thunder-shower in
the evening completed its extinction. Fire seldom runs in the woods on
good land, and where the timber is chiefly deciduous, but on sandy,
pine, or hemlock lands, or where evergreens chiefly prevail.
[2] Fires in Canada are of frequent occurrence, and are generally
caused by the burning of brush-wood or log-heaps by the settlers. In
dry weather, with a brisk wind, the fire is apt to run on the surface
of the ground in the bush, where the dry leaves are thickest. In
clearing the land a good deal of brush-wood and tops of trees are
thrown into the edge of the woods. It follows, as a matter of course,
that the greatest danger to be apprehended is the burning the
boundary-fences of farms. I have heard it asserted that these fires
are sometimes caused by spontaneous combustion, which I consider
altogether a fallacy.
I have seldom known very serious damage by these fires done in Canada
West, although occasionally a barn or house falls a sacrifice to the
devouring element. Not so, however, in some parts of Nova Scotia and
New Brunswick, where extensive conflagrations often devastate the
country for miles round. Of such a character was the great fire at
Miramichi, which nearly destroyed Fredericton, and was attended not
only with an immense loss of property but with the sad loss of many
valuable lives. I will presently give in his own forcible and feeling
language the history of a lumberer who escaped from destruction after
being for some time in imminent peril of his life. He was one of the
few persons who had the good fortune of escaping the great
conflagration in Miramichi, which broke out in the October after my
arrival, and excited so much general sympathy. Fifteen of his comrades
perished in the flames.
The narrative which I introduce here, anticipating by a few months the
proper order of narration, was related to me by the man himself with
that native eloquence which often surprises, and always interests us in
the uneducated. The class to which he belongs is one peculiar to
America. Rough in manners, and often only half-civilized, the lumberer,
as an individual, resembles little the woodsman of other lands. He is
generally a Canadian Frenchman, or a breed between the Irish and the
native of the Lower Province. However, some Yankees may be found among
these denizens of the woods and wilds of Canada. The fearful
conflagration to which our poor lumberer nearly fell a victim, has been
thus ably described in M’Gregor’s “British America.” “In October, 1825,
about a hundred and forty miles in extent, and a vast breadth of the
country on the north, and from sixty to seventy miles on the south side
of Miramachi river, became a scene of perhaps the most dreadful
conflagration that has occurred in the history of the world.
“In Europe we can scarcely form a conception of the fury and rapidity
with which fires rage through the forests of America during a dry hot
season, at which period the broken underwood, decayed vegetable
substances, fallen branches, bark, and withered trees, are as
inflammable as the absence of moisture can make them. To such
irresistible food for combustion we must add the auxiliary afforded by
the boundless fir forests, every tree of which in its trunk, bark,
branches, and leaves contains vast quantities of inflammable resin.
“When one of these fires is once in motion, or at least when the flames
extent over a few miles of the forest, the surrounding air becomes
highly rarefied, and the wind consequently increases till it blows a
perfect hurricane. It appears, that the woods had been on both sides of
the north-west partially on fire for some days, but not to an alarming
extent until the 7th of October, when it came on to blow furiously from
the westward, and the inhabitants along the river were suddenly
surprised by an extraordinary roaring in the woods, resembling the
crashing and detonation of loud and incessant thunder, while at the
same instant the atmosphere became thick darkened with smoke.
“They had scarcely time to ascertain the cause of this awful phenomenon
before all the surrounding woods appeared in one vast blaze, the flames
ascending from one to two hundred feet above the tops of the loftiest
trees; and the fire rolling forward with inconceivable celerity,
presented the terribly sublime appearance of an impetuous flaming
ocean. In less than an hour, Douglas Town and Newcastle were in a
blaze: many of the wretched inhabitants perished in the flames. More
than a hundred miles of the Miramichi were laid waste, independent of
the north-west branch, the Baltibag, and the Nappen settlements. From
one to two hundred persons perished within immediate observation, while
thrice that number were miserably burned or wounded, and at least two
thousand were left destitute of the means of subsistence, and were
thrown for a time on the humanity of the Province of New Brunswick. The
number of lives that were lost in the woods could not at the time be
ascertained, but it was thought few were left to tell the tale.
“Newcastle presented a fearful scene of ruin and devastation, only
fourteen out of two hundred and fifty houses and stores remained
standing.
“The court-house, jail, church, and barracks, Messrs. Gilmour, Rankin,
and Co.’s, and Messrs. Abrams and Co.’s establishment, with two ships
on the stocks, were reduced to ashes.
“The loss of property is incalculable, for the fire, borne upon the
wings of a hurricane, rushed on the wretched inhabitants with such
inconceivable rapidity that the preservation of their lives could be
their only care.
“Several ships were burned on shore, while others were saved from the
flames by the exertions of their owners, after being actually on fire.
“At Douglas Town scarcely any kind of property escaped the ravages of
the fire, which swept off the surface everything coming in contact with
it, leaving but time for the unfortunate inhabitants to fly to the
shore; and there, by means of boats, canoes, rafts of timber, logs, or
any article, however ill calculated for the purpose, they endeavoured
to escape from the dreadful scene and reach the town of Chatham,
numbers of men, women, and children perishing in the attempt.
“In some parts of the country all the cattle were either destroyed or
suffering greatly, for the very soil was parched and burnt up, while
scarcely any article of provision was rescued from the flames.
“The hurricane raged with such dreadful violence, that large bodies of
timber on fire, as well as trees from the forest and parts of the
flaming houses and stores, were carried to the rivers with amazing
velocity, to such an extent and affecting the water in such a manner,
as to occasion large quantities of salmon and other fish to resort to
land, hundreds of which were scattered on the shores of the south and
west branches.
“Chatham was filled with three hundred miserable sufferers: every hour
brought to it the wounded and burned in the most abject state of
distress. Great fires raged about the same time in the forests of the
River St. John, which destroyed much property and timber, with the
governor’s house, and about eighty private houses at Fredericton. Fires
raged also at the same time in the northern parts of the Province, as
far as the Bay de Chaleur.
“It is impossible to tell how many lives were lost, as many of those
who were in the woods among the lumbering parties, had no friends nor
connections in the country to remark on their non-appearance. Five
hundred have been computed as the least number that actually perished
in the flames.
“The destruction of bears, foxes, tiger-cats, martens, hares,
squirrels, and other wild animals, was very great. These, when
surprised by such fires, are said to lose their usual sense of
preservation, and becoming, as it were, either giddy or fascinated,
often rush into the face of inevitable destruction: even the birds,
except these of very strong wing, seldom escape. Some, particularly the
partridge, become stupified; and the density of the smoke, the rapid
velocity of the flames, and the violence of the winds, effectually
prevent the flight of others.”
It was from this mighty destruction that the forecast and admirable
presence of mind displayed by the lumberer, whose pathetic story I am
about to relate, saved him. I could not fail, while rejoicing in his
escape, to impute his self-possession to the compassion of the all-wise
Being who had made him such an instance of His mercy.
“The weather,” said he, “had been unusually dry for the season, and
there had been no rain for upwards of three weeks before this calamity
took place. We had only just completed our shanty, and had commenced
felling timber ready for squaring, when it occurred. We had heard from
our teamsters, who had brought us out pork and flour, the day previous,
that fires were raging in the woods some miles to the eastward of us.
However, we paid but little attention to what appeared to us a common
occurrence.
“After supper, one of our men went out of the shanty, but immediately
returned to tell us ‘that a dreadful conflagration was raging within a
mile or so of our dwelling.’ We immediately rushed out to ascertain the
truth of his assertion. I shall never forget,” he continued, “the sight
presented to our view: as far as the eye could reach we saw a wall of
fire higher than the tree-tops, and we heard the mighty sound of the
rushing flames mingled with the crashing fall of the timber.
“A single glance convinced us that not a minute was to be lost; we did
not stop even to try and secure our clothing, but made our way as
quickly as possible to a small river about two hundred yards from our
shanty, and which we knew was our only chance of preservation.
“We reached the stream in safety, where I determined to take my stand.
My comrades, however, were of a different opinion: they contended that
the fire would not cross the river, which was upwards of thirty yards
in width. Unfortunately, no argument of mine could induce them to stay,
though I was well aware, and represented to them that such a body of
flame would not be stayed a minute by such a barrier.
“My comrades, hoping to reach an old clearance of some acres, about
half a mile in advance, in spite of all entreaties crossed the stream,
and were soon lost to my view never more to be seen alive by me.
“I waded down the stream, till I found a place where the water was up
to my arm-pits, and the bank of the river rose about six feet over my
head. There I took my stand, and awaited the event in breathless
anxiety. I had no time to look around me. The few minutes which had
elapsed, had greatly added to the terrors of the scene.
“As the wall of fire advanced, fresh trees in succession were enveloped
by the flames. A bright glare crimsoned the clouds with a lurid glow,
while the air was filled with a terrible noise. The heat now became
intense. I looked up once more; the trees above me caught fire at that
instant, the next, I was holding my breath a foot beneath the surface
of the running stream. Every few seconds I was compelled to raise my
head to breathe, which I accomplished with great difficulty. In a few
minutes, which seemed ages to me, I was enabled to stand upright, and
look around me. What desolation a short half hour had effected! In
front, the conflagration was still raging with unabated fury, while in
the rear the fire had consumed all the under-brush and limbs of the
trees, leaving a forest of blackened poles still blazing fiercely,
though not with the intense heat caused by the balsam and
pine-brushwood.
“It was several hours before I durst quit my sanctuary to search for my
companions, the blackened remains of whom I found not a quarter of a
mile from the river.
“Our shanty,[3] and all that it contained, was utterly consumed. I,
however, succeeded in finding in the cellar beneath its ruins, as much
provisions uninjured as served to carry me through to the settlements,
which I ultimately reached, though not without great difficulty.”
[3] A shanty is a building made with logs, higher in the front than
the back, making a fall to the roof, which is generally covered with
troughs made of pine or bass-wood logs; the logs are first split fair
in the middle, and hollowed out with the axe and adze. A row of these
troughs is then laid from the front or upper wall-plate, sloping down
to the back plate, the hollowed side uppermost. The covering-troughs
is then placed with the hollow reversed, either edge resting in the
centre of the under trough. A door in the front and one window
complete the building. Such is commonly the first dwelling of the
settler. The lumber-shanty differs both in shape and size, being much
larger, and the roof sloping both ways, with a raised hearth in the
centre of the floor, with an aperture directly above for the escape of
the smoke. It has no window. One door at the end, and two tier of bed
berths, one above the other, complete the _tout ensemble_. These
shanties are generally constructed to accommodate from two to three
gangs of lumber men, with shed-room for twelve or fourteen span of
oxen or horses span being the Canadian term for pair.