CONTENTS—Appearance—Mouth of Bay—Length—The Peninsula of Prince
Edward—Width of Bay—Long Reach—Course of Bay—The High Shore—
Division of bay—Eastern, central, western—Taking a trip—Through
the Reach—A picture—A quiet spot—Lake on the mountain—A
description—Montreal Gazette—Beautiful view—Rhine, Hudson—
Contrast—Classic ground—A sketch—Birth place of celebrated
Canadians—Hagerman—A leading spirit—Sir J. A. McDonald—
Reflections—A log house—Relics of the past—Lesson of life—In the
lower bay—Reminiscences—The front—Cradle of the province—Shore of
Marysburgh—In the Western Bay—Cuthbertson—Up the bay—A battle
ground—Devil’s Hill—Stickney’s Hill—In the depths—Prosperity—
Geological supposition—Head of bay—The past.
BAY QUINTÉ CONTINUED—ITS APPEARANCE.
Perhaps there is no sheet of water in Upper Canada possessed of greater
natural beauty than this arm of Lake Ontario. At the eastern extremity
of Ontario, where it merges into the St. Lawrence, with its 1692
islands, on the northern shore, is found the entrance to the Bay Quinté.
In the early days of the settlement the name was limited to the waters
west of Indian Point, at the extremity of Prince Edward Peninsula. At
the present time the Bay Quinté is understood to include the sound
between Amherst Island, and Wolfe Island, upon the south, and the
mainland to the north. Our history is intended specially to embrace the
events connected with the settlement of this region.
The bay, commencing where the St. Lawrence begins its mighty flow,
extends in an irregular manner inland to a distance of some 70 miles,
its western extremity approaching to within a short distance of the
lake; and thus creating a lengthy peninsula, varying in breadth, the
greatest being about 25 miles; but with a neck so narrow, that the
peninsula is almost an island. The width of the bay varies, averaging
about a mile; but in some places it is two miles. Not only is the bay
irregular in its direction; but there are many indentations, some
several miles in length, which increase the irregularity, and add beauty
and variety to the scenery.
The course of the bay from the lower gap, is at first, for some 35 miles
almost due west. It then makes a turn toward the north, tending a little
to the east; while to the south is an indentation forming the Picton
Bay. This portion of the bay is called the Long Reach, and in its
length, presents some of the most striking beauties of the whole bay.
Extending to the south of the Reach is a lengthy indentation five or six
miles long, forming Hay Bay. At the northern extremity of the Long
Reach, is another small bay into which the Napanee River empties, called
the Mohawk Bay. Here the main body of water makes another turn, and
again, stretches almost directly westward, to the head of the bay. At a
distance of eight miles from Mohawk Bay there is a material widening of
the water. This portion is called Big Bay. The width does not appear so
great in consequence of the existence of islands, one of which, the Big
Island, stretches along the south shore even the whole length of Big
Bay. At the western limits of the wide part, the bay is very narrow by
reason of two opposite points, Mississauga and Ox Points, approaching to
within a half mile of each other. It is the opinion of geologists, that
the channel between these two points is of comparatively recent
formation, caused by a sinking of the land, and that the old channel was
through the marsh which divides Mississauga point from the peninsula.
The High Shore, which forms so prominent a feature in the scenery of the
bay, and the highest summit of which is at the Lake on the Mountain, is
a remarkable formation. Commencing in Marysburgh, near the East Lake by
the shore of Lake Ontario, it follows the course of Smith’s Bay
eastward, down the shore to what is called “the Rock,” thence across the
peninsula to the bay and so follows the course of the bay upward, around
Picton Bay, and thence along the eastern front of Sophiasburgh to a
point opposite Hay Bay. Here the hill leaves the bay shore and takes a
westerly course, and stretches away toward the lake, to the south of the
Carrying Place.
The Bay of Quinté may be divided into three portions—an eastern, a
western, and a central portion. The eastern and western portions, we
have seen, run east and west. The middle portion, connecting these two
together, is a reach of some twelve miles and mostly north and south,
from Picton Bay to Mohawk Bay. Undoubtedly the “Long Reach” possesses
the most attractive scenery, from the waters themselves, along the whole
sheet, from Kingston to the Carrying Place. To obtain some idea of the
scenery here presented, the reader is invited to accompany the writer,
in imagination, upon the steamer from Mill point, Tyendinaga, or the
Indian Woods, to Kingston. It is upon a bright morning in September.
Leaving the wharf at Mill Point, our boat makes a graceful sweep and
turns here prow down the bay toward the Reach. The power of the sun is
beginning to be felt, and the mist which has rested upon the waters is
gradually rising. After leaving the wharf a few minutes, an angle is
reached from which we can look up through the Big Bay almost to
Belleville, and, at the same time down the Reach, into Picton Bay. This
morning, on glancing upwards, a lovely view presents itself. The water
is like glass, from which the mist, here and there, is rising like a
sheet of the purest snow. Resting in the glassy bed are several
schooners, whose white sails and rigging are perfectly mirrored by the
unrippled surface of the water. Turning our gaze down through the Reach,
even a more beautiful sight is before us. From this stand point we seem
to be looking through, as it were, a telescope, at the distant shores of
Picton Bay. The sun’s rays have not yet reached the deep and narrow
channel, so that a thick covering of white mist hides the water,
excepting here and there, where its lovely blue may be seen, as it
reflects the azure sky. A vessel with snowy sails, seems to be resting
against the high shore, while its hull is half enshrouded in the fog. To
the right, over a point of low land, may be seen the top mast of another
vessel, which, in an indentation of the bay, is as if left upon the dry
land by a retiring flood. It has always seemed to the writer that this
is the most delightful and picturesque spot upon the bay, and he has
endeavored, in but an imperfect way, to draw to it the attention of
tourists, who may desire to see the more enchanting scenes connected
with the bay. Proceeding on our way down the Reach, the steamer stops at
Roblin’s wharf upon the right. Here, in a little dell, leading into a
peaceful valley pleasantly wooded, which leads up to the high shore, is
situated Mr. Roblin’s buildings. For a quiet place in which to live
during the summer, where one may forget the cold artificial world, it is
unequalled. To the right is the bold high shore, which protects from the
northern wind. Spread out before, is a beautiful landscape. There, is
another view of Adolphustown, with its many points, and corresponding
indentations, the home of peace and plenty. There, is the entrance to
Hay Bay, and more directly opposite, the elevated shore, well crowned
with trees, still clothed in green.
We now continue our voyage close to the precipitous rocks which form the
shore, and presently we approach the mouth of Picton Bay. Here again is
obtained a varied and delightful prospect, ere we leave this “Grand
Bay,” as it was at first called.
Issuing again from Picton Bay, our steamer glides along in the shadow of
the eastern shore, and approaches the Stone Mills, at the foot of the
lake on the mountain. The captain will wait until we have ascended, and
viewed the lake, and the magnificent prospect spread out around. But the
brief time allowed to accomplish the ascent affords no adequate chance
to take in the exceeding loveliness, and call to mind the historic
events connected with the country within view. So we shall detain the
tourist for a days’ inspection of the scene.
The Lake of the Mountain is a curiosity of no mean order. The following,
taken from the Montreal _Gazette_, published in the summer of 1834, is
worthy the place we give it:
“The Lake of the Mountain is one of the most remarkable objects in
the District of Prince Edward. This singular body of water is about
five miles distant from Hallowell, (Picton). It is situated on the
top of a lofty eminence, about one hundred and sixty feet above the
level of the Bay of Quinté. The manner in which it is bounded is
rather singular. In one direction it is only separated from the
waters of the Bay below by a ledge of limestone rock, about eighty
feet high, and by a precipitous embankment, which extends half way
around it. In every other direction it is skirted by a ridge which
rises to the height of 40 feet above the level of its surface. This
Lake is about five miles in circumference. Its waters are at present
applied to propel only a grist mill and a fulling machine. An
artificial canal has been cut, along which the water is conveyed to
the edge of the embankment, from whence it is conducted by a wooden
raceway to the mills, which are situated near the margin of the bay
below. The original outlet of the lake is at a few paces distance
from the raceway. At this place the surplus waters formerly escaped
through an orifice in the precipice I formerly mentioned, and after
dashing over the rocks below, ultimately found their passage into
the Bay.
“When I first heard of this lake, the most incredible stories were
related to me concerning it. The gentleman who first directed my
attention to it, absolutely told me that it was supplied by a
subterraneous passage from Lake Erie, that there was no inlet in the
neighborhood, capable of affording it a supply, and lastly, that it
was unfathomable, or that its bottom was lower than that of the
adjoining part of the Bay of Quinté. Such information as this,
communicated by a well-informed Barrister, did not fail to excite my
curiosity, and I accordingly set out to examine it with feelings of
considerable anxiety.
“What led to the absurd idea that this lake was supplied from Lake
Erie, I am at a loss to understand. It contains no springs, and the
banks of that part especially from which it is viewed by strangers,
being all so low that no inlet is visible, it might, perhaps, have
been thought impossible to account for its source by any other
means. The absurdity of the notion is, however, so glaring, that I
would not spend a single moment in exposing it, had it not taken
strong hold of the imagination of a great proportion of intelligent
people residing in this part of the country.
“If the Lake of the Mountain were supplied from Lake Erie, its
waters should experience a corresponding rise and fall with those of
Lake Erie. This, however, they do not, for last year the waters of
Lake Erie were higher than usual, while those of the Lake of the
Mountain were very low. Again, this year, the waters of Lake Erie
were lower than usual, while those of the Lake of the Mountain are
very high.
“Further, if the Lake of the Mountain were supplied from Lake Erie,
it should be altogether uninfluenced by any state of the weather in
its neighborhood. This, however, is not the case, for in wet weather
it becomes high, and in dry weather it becomes low. When I first
visited this lake, its waters were nearly upon a level with its
banks, and when I saw it some months afterwards, they were seven or
eight feet above them. This was after a continuance of dry weather.
“From all this it is evident that Lake Erie does not furnish the
supply of the Lake of the Mountain, and that it must be looked for
in some other quarter. Being determined to discover from whence this
supply was derived, I proceeded along the east side of the lake for
about a mile, upon the top of the eminence which separates it from
the Bay of Quinté. I then entered the woods and began imperceptibly
to ascend, until I found, by again coming in site of the lake, that
I had reached an elevation of about forty feet above it. Continuing
to proceed for two or three miles, I descended, in the same
imperceptible manner, to the place from which I first set out. In
the course of this journey, I crossed no less than five different
water-courses, four of which were dry at the period of my first
visit, but all of which I have since seen pouring out very
considerable quantities of water. The fifth is a beautiful stream
flowing into the lake over successive ledges of limestone rock,
underneath the rich foliage of the trees by which it is overarched.
This stream affords the chief supply to the lake, and judging from
the appearance of its channel, it must be sometimes upwards of a
foot deep. In the spring and fall, when the greatest quantities of
water are discharged by it, I have distinctly heard the noise which
it makes at a distance of two miles, and on the opposite side of the
lake, as it dashes over the rocks. The whole of these rivulets
proceed from two extensive swamps. That from which the largest
arises is situated to the south west of the lake, and is about three
or four miles in circumference.
“The depth of the lake next claimed my attention. Having procured a
sufficient length of line, I pushed out upon its waters in a small
scow. For a considerable distance we distinctly perceive the bottom,
which consists of dissolved, or rather corroded lime, so loose and
light that with little or no exertion one may push the whole length
of his oar into it. Continuing to look downwards upon the beautiful
white bottom as we sail along, we start instinctively upon finding
that we all at once lose sight of it, and that we gaze into a deep,
dark, frightful abyss, which is formed by the sudden appearance of a
precipitous ridge, running right across the lake. Nothing can exceed
the amazement—terror, I had almost called it—which some people
express on finding themselves surrounded by lofty, dark woods, and
floating upon the surface of water as black as ink, over an abyss
which they have been told is quite unfathomable.
“After having sailed over the lake in every different direction, and
taken an immense number of soundings, I found its greatest depth to
be only ninety-one feet. The bay below I found to be eighty-two
feet. Now as the lake is about one hundred and sixty feet above the
level of the bay, it follows that the bottom of the lake is one
hundred and fifty-one feet higher than that of the bay.
“Thus, then, it appears that the Lake of the Mountain does not
derive its supply from Lake Erie, that its source is to be found in
its immediate neighbourhood, that it is not unfathomable, and that
its bottom is not lower than that of the Bay of Quinté.
“The Lake of the Mountain is however, an object of sufficient
interest, without adding to its wonders those of a subterraneous
communication with Lake Erie, and an unfathomable depth. There is,
for instance, the very singular manner in which it is separated from
the Bay of Quinté, by a wall of solid rock, and the extraordinary
form of its basin. The fine views, too, with which the mountain
abounds, ought to be sufficient to attract the attention of all
those whose minds are capable of enjoying the various forms in which
beauty may be contemplated.
“Nothing can surpass the savage grandeur of the scene we look upon
from the summit of the limestone rock I have so often mentioned, nor
can a lovelier prospect be anywhere found than that which breaks
upon the view, on first reaching the top of the mountain. To the
north and west, we behold the Bay of Quinté, stretching far away
into the land, and dividing itself into many beautiful inlets. There
are too, the promising settlements and clearances all along the
coast, which can never fail to raise and exhilarate the spirits of
every one who wishes well to the destinies of his species. There is,
however, one view at this lake, which, above all others, I have most
delighted to enjoy. It is from the woods, upon the most elevated
part of the eminence which bounds the lake to the south. From this
we behold the deep dark waters of the lake beneath our feet, the bay
of an hundred arms, with its smiling coast, and far away we gaze
upon forest rising behind forest, until we are lost in the
interminable—the dreamy distance.
“I have visited this place when the surrounding woods shone in all
the gorgeousness of summer sunshine. I have viewed it again by the
pale moonlight, when the splendour and magnificence of the scene
surpassed even what it exhibited when viewed by the broad light of
day. The lake below, and the distant bay, appeared like sheets of
molten silver, and every object was softened down by the mellow
light under which they were viewed. At first the sky was perfectly
cloudless, but, in the course of the evening, the scene gradually
underwent a change. On the one hand, the moon shone out with a
degree of splendour which no one can have any idea of, save they who
have beheld her chaste countenance peering above a Canadian forest.
On the other hand the thin, fleecy-looking clouds rapidly chased
each other up towards the zenith. As the evening advanced, gleams of
purple lightning at intervals streamed forth. At length one large
cloud which seemed to be the nucleus of the whole, shot from around
its margin successive flashes of pure white lightning, unaccompanied
by the slightest noise of thunder. As I gazed on the brilliant
spectacle before me, it seemed instantly to assume the shape and
form of the bust of some gigantic being. The longer I looked at it,
the brighter did the lightning blaze around it, and the more
forcibly was I impressed with the resemblance. It might have seemed
to a superstitious or highly imaginative mind, as if the great
Spirit of nature had deigned to reveal himself, amid the grandeur
and sublimity of a scene so congenial to his character.
We would supplement this just tribute of praise, and interesting
statement; and we venture to say, after having viewed many lovely spots
in the old and new worlds, that we know of no lovelier panoramic view
than that to be obtained from the Lake of the Mountain, not even
excepting the far-famed Hudson, and the classic Rhine. Of course we
except the rich relics of the old feudal days, which so picturesquely
adorn the mountain tops along the swift running Rhine. But even here we
are not destitute of historic reminiscences. True, we have no embattled
towers, resting on rugged summits; no castle keeps, with mysterious
dungeons, upon whose walls may be traced the letters laboriously cut by
long retained captives; no crumbling walls and half-filled moats; no
magnificent ruins of graceful architecture. We possess no Tintern Abbey
by the quiet waters, to tell of the olden time; no gloomy cloisters
where comfortable monks did dwell; nor romantic cathedral whose antique
windows admitted but dim religious light. Still, there is something to
be said of the past, in connection with our country. From our position
here we may examine the classic ground of Upper Canada, and trace the
course of settlement followed by our fathers, the pioneers.
At our feet is the bay, and seemingly so near, that one could toss a
stone into the clear blue water; and across, at the distance of a mile,
though apparently much nearer, lies the low rich land of Adolphustown.
To the right stretches, in almost a straight line, the waters of the
bay, along which may be seen the well settled shores even to Ernesttown,
and over which we get a view of the Upper Gap, where the waters of the
bay co-mingle with the more boisterous flood of Ontario. Upon this
bright autumn day the view is almost enchanting. The surface of the
waters of the several indentions, especially Hay Bay, as well as the
main channel, have imparted to them the bright blue of the sky, while
the fields of rich green and gold give variety to the scene. This rich
landscape spread out before us is really the classic ground of Upper
Canada. Within the compass of our view was for several years the western
limit of the settlement. We can see, where landed the refugee loyalists
to take possession of the land. Along that green and golden sloping
shore has slowly passed the batteaux laden with the settlers and their
limited household effects; there also has gone the Skenectady boat with
its ungainly soil, and toiling rowers. There, upon the rich land of
Fredericksburgh and Adolphustown, lived and died many of the fathers of
Canada. In the old homesteads, which there gradually arose, were born,
and spent their boyhood days, a host of sons, who, moving further west
up the bay and lake, planted the townships. From that spot sprang many
of Canada’s earliest public men, who passed their younger days among
these natural beauties which belong to the bay. Under our eye is the
birth-place of Judge Hagerman, Sheriff Ruttan, and others, who have left
a name upon the pages of Canadian history. There, upon the front of
Adolphustown stands the old Court House, where were held the first
Courts of Law of Upper Canada; there flourished the earliest lawyer of
the Province, Judge Hagerman’s father, and there pleaded McLean of
Kingston, in his robes and powdered wig. And, there yet stands the house
where lived the little boy, who, now a man, is the leading spirit in our
enlarged Canada. Upon this hill, and up and down its slopes, often
played this, the foremost man in British America, Sir John A. McDonald.
Those four townships, Kingston, Ernesttown, Fredericksburgh, and
Adolphustown, were the early homes of those who faithfully served their
country. How many thoughts are suggested as the student of history looks
abroad on this the first inhabited land of Western Canada. Many of the
present inhabitants here never heard of the noble ones, who have
struggled, and whose bones now decay in yon “U. E. burying ground,” just
across the water.
Descending the mountain, we will continue our voyage toward Kingston.
The next stopping place is Adolphustown, the history of which is given
elsewhere. We have to cross the water, and as we approach the landing,
we may see the splendid farm where lived the leader of the original
settlers, Major VanAlstine. The village of Adolphustown, once one of the
most important places in Upper Canada, is now a quiet but pleasant spot,
especially during the summer days.
Proceeding on our way, we may observe, just west of Coles’ Point, where
settled the very first person in Adolphustown, a small log house. It is
much larger than those which sparsely dotted the bay shore seventy years
ago. But it reminds one, of the first domiciles here erected. Divided
into two, one part having been first built, and the other, when a
growing family made it desirable, and means possible. This old log house
close by the shore is a lingering specimen of an almost extinct feature
of the bay. See here and there those tall poplar trees, brought in by
the early settlers from the Hudson valley, and planted in front of the
dwelling; many of them are yielding to the tooth of time. These trees
generally mark the spot where the settler erected his second home after
years of labor had prospered him. In many places they stand erect, but
with age stricken limbs, as faithful sentinels over the ashes of the old
homestead. Ashes indeed! For the crumbling chimney alone indicates where
was once the abode of the pioneer—of life’s cares and hopes, of doubt
and expectation—of all the ins and outs belonging to the home of the
pioneer. We have read to us the lesson of life; there, are the graves of
the brave old veterans and pioneers, and there, the dust of their
earthly dwellings. Ashes to ashes! Dust to dust!
In the lower bay particularly have come to pass many events of varied
import, and fraught with thrilling interest. Here, in times anterior to
the French rule in Canada, did the native tribes come to hold their
councils, to make treaties, form alliances, or declare war. Here, at the
mouth of the Cataraqui; or along the shores toward the little Cataraqui,
the French first fixed their place of meeting, and trade with the
Indians who lived afar off in the west. Over these waters have
Champlain, the French Recollets, the first discoverers, La Salle, Father
Hennepin, Chevalier de Tonti, La Barre, Denonville, Conte de Frontenac
and others, passed time after time. Over the waters here floated the
English under Bradstreet, upon the 25th August, 1750, who, at the break
of day were to besiege Fort Frontenac, and to capture it.
The close of the war in 1783, brought the disbanded soldiers and many a
refugee. Along the shores passed the whole of the Mohawk Indians on
their way to their lands. Here the Nation separated, a small party under
Captain John, passing up the Bay of Quinté, while the majority passed up
the south shore of the lake to the Grand River. For years after might
have been seen day after day, batteaux, singly, or in brigades, and at a
later date Skenectady boats, freighted with families old and young, and
with a few precious household effects, slowly and laboriously pulling
their way to their place of destined settlement. In the war of 1812, the
American fleet ventured in at the upper gap and passed along at a safe
distance from the field artillery that occupied the shore at Herchimer’s
Point. They were essaying to capture the Royal George; but this attempt
was as vain as that to overrun our province. Into these waters entered
the vessel of war, bearing the officers of Hull’s army from Detroit,
which they boastingly had declared would conquer Canada. From these
waters issued some of the first sailing vessels of Lake Ontario. Here
was likewise built the first steamboats upon the lake and bay, the
_Frontenac_ and _Charlotte_.
Upon the shores of these pleasant waters was commenced the survey of the
ten townships around the bay. Here was the starting point of settlement.
Here, for many a year, was the central point of Upper Canada. Along from
Cataraqui up to Collin’s Bay was the great front of the infant
settlement. Going up the bay, even to Adolphustown, was regarded for
several years as going far into the backwoods.
Along the north shore of the bay to Adolphustown, were enacted those
scenes which constituted the very first events of Upper Canadian
history. The front of Kingston township may, indeed be called the birth
place, and the front of Adolphustown the cradle, of the province. Every
farm along this shore has its history, which if written in the noble
spirit that animated the British American Loyalists, would command the
attention of the world. These quiet old homesteads now reposing upon the
gentle slopes in peace and plenty, tell not of the hardships of the old
soldiers and refugees, who, with ticket in hand entered to commence the
earnest work of clearing. Mainly, in the third and fourth townships, the
officers settled by the bay, while the rank and file took up lots in the
second and rear concessions. The first four townships are indeed, the
classic ground of Canada.
Nor is the south shore of the bay, Marysburgh, devoid of interest in an
historic sense. Reserving for another place a full account of the first
settlement by the Hessians, we can but glance at the fact that a band of
men without any knowledge of the English language, and unacquainted with
the first principles of pioneer life, constituted the first settlers.
There, in McDonald’s Cove landed he, after whom the name is given; and
there, amid the woods and upon the bright waters, he passed his days.
We commenced our trip and observations at Mill Point, and proceeded down
the bay. Let us return, and starting from the same place proceed to the
head of the bay, the Carrying Place. This part of the bay possesses less
of that picturesque beauty than is found in the part over which we have
passed; yet there is much to engage the attention of the tourist.
Mill Point, although a name suggestive of enterprise and of the
existence of mills; cannot be regarded with approbation, and it is to be
hoped that some appropriate name, commemorating some past event or
person, connected with the place, will be bestowed upon it. It was for
many years known as “Culbertson’s wharf.” The proper name, however, was
Cuthbertson. It was from the son of a Scotch fur trader who became
connected with the Mohawks. He lived at Kingston for many years, leaving
when he died a natural son and daughter, by a daughter of Captain John.
After his death, she and the two children removed to the Mohawk village.
It was this son who first built the wharf here, and hence the original
name.
Continuing our way up the bay, leaving to the east the pleasant inlet
stretching up to Napanee, the first thing to attract our attention is
the Parsonage and Indian Church, embowered in the beautiful forest
trees. The Parsonage first strikes our view, where resides the amiable
and worthy clergyman Mr. Anderson. In front of it is a solitary poplar
with the branches partially decayed. It marks the spot upon which the
tribe first landed, when they came to the place in 1784. Here they first
spread their tents. Somewhat to the east of this stood the first English
Church, the foundation of which can yet be traced. Near by sleeps the
remains of Captain John, the leader of the tribe, and likewise many
other warriors.
A half mile to the west of the Church, is an eminence, which tradition
points to as the battle ground between the ancient Mississaugas and the
Hurons. Further westward is Devil’s Hill, so called because a drunken
Indian declared he there had seen, one night, his Satanic Majesty, and
chased him all night. Then comes Eagle Hill, once the abode of this
Imperial bird. To the south, first lies the low island, known as Captain
John’s, bought by Cuthbertson who built the wharf, from the
Mississaugas. Then comes the north front of Sophiasburg, rich in
agricultural beauty. The first eminence by the shore is Stickney’s Hill,
once the burying place of Indians, but erroneously supposed to be the
spot where a Col. Quinté, with his army, perished from hunger and cold.
In the depths of the waters over which our boat now glides, it has been
recorded, have been seen cannon and ammunition, and other warlike
material, which Col. Quinté vainly endeavored to take across on his way
to Fort Frontenac. But the truth is, if such material have been seen,
they were the contents of a military sleigh which, while passing up
through here in the winter of 1812–13, heavily laden, broke through the
thin ice. We now enter Northport, at the eastern side of Big Bay; and
the land, on every hand, tells of comfort and thrift, and quiet peace.
Next, the wider portion of the Bay, which has received the name of Big
Bay, is passed over. To the left is Big Island, and Grape Island, where
the Rev. Mr. Case endeavoured to civilize and Christianize a community
of Mississaugas. We now pass through the Narrows, and the spires of
Belleville Churches may be seen in the distance. From Big Bay to the
Carrying Place, there is great uniformity in the appearance of the land
on either side, excepting upon the south shore at about seven miles from
the head of the Bay. Here, where is the Village of Rednersville, is a
somewhat remarkable hill, which, commencing at this point, extends up
along the Bay toward the end. It is separated from the western extremity
of the High Shore by a valley, through which, at one time, the waters of
Ontario flowed; and, when this hill was an island. The rock of this hill
consists of shaly limestone, similar to that which forms the bed of the
Moira. We now approach the end of our voyage, and, as the steamer enters
the port at Trenton, we can see the basin which forms the end of the
bay, in which rests one Island known as Indian Island. Taking the Bay
Quinté in its whole extent, the events of the past belonging to this
quiet sheet of water, are of no ordinary interest. The tourist of
to-day, while he admires the beauty as he passes along, sees no trace of
the past. The placid water, no more reflects the trim and light canoe of
birch, no longer the clumsy, but staunch batteau, or Durham boat, nor
the Skenectady boat. No more is heard the oar of the Canadian voyageur,
keeping time by tuneful voices.