which lie near the river become more numerous, and it is no unfrequent
occurrence with travellers in the woods to fall in with a farmer and his
family hard at work forming A FIRST SETTLEMENT. These settlers are
mostly Americans,[5] or English and Scotch farmers, who have emigrated
from the mother country to endeavour by honest labour to obtain a
comfortable independence for themselves and their children. It is a
singularly interesting sight—one of these new settlements buried in the
depths of a pine forest, and proves how many seeming and real
difficulties a man may overcome by patience and industry. Who without
some strong motive for exertion would not feel discouraged at the sight
of the wilderness land covered with heavy trees, which he must cut down
and destroy before he can commit to the earth the seed which is to
produce food for his family? But with the prospect of independence and
comfort before him, the strong-hearted settler falls cheerfully to work,
the lusty strokes of his axe ring through the lonely woods, and the
monarchs of the forest fall one after the other beneath his vigorous
arm. A small space is cleared, and he begins to raise the walls of his
future dwelling. Round logs, from fifteen to twenty feet in length, are
laid horizontally over each other, notched at the corners so as to let
them down sufficiently close, till the walls have attained the requisite
height:—the interstices between the logs are then filled with moss and
clay; a few rafters are afterwards raised for the roof, covered with
pine or birch bark, and thatched with spruce branches; the chimney is
formed of wooden frame-work, and plastered with clay and straw kneaded
together; a doorway and an aperture for a window are next cut in the
walls of the house; the door and sashes are fixed in their places; a few
rough boards, or logs hewn flat on one side, are laid down for a floor,
and overhead a similar flooring, to form a sort of garret or lumber
room. With the addition of a few articles of furniture of the rudest
construction, the habitation is now considered ready to receive the
family of the settler, who view with unbounded delight their new
dwelling, and joyfully prepare, for the first time since their sojourn
in the forest, to cook and eat their dinner of venison beneath the
shelter of their humble roof. The house being completed, the settler
next turns his attention to laying out his farm; and his first object is
to cut down the trees, which is done by cutting with an axe a deep notch
into each side of the tree, about two feet from the ground, in such a
manner that the trees all fall in the same direction; the branches are
then lopped off, and the timber is suffered to lie on the ground until
the beginning of the following summer, when it is set on fire. By this
means all the branches and small wood are consumed; the large logs are
either piled in heaps and burnt, or rolled away for the purpose of
making the zigzag log fences necessary to keep off the cattle and sheep,
which are allowed to range at large. The timber being thus removed, the
ground requires little further preparation for the seed which is to be
sown in it, than merely breaking the surface with a hoe or harrow.
Plentiful crops of corn or potatoes may be raised for two and often for
three years successively after the wood has been burnt on it. The stumps
of the trees are allowed to remain in the ground until they are
sufficiently decayed to be easily removed. The roots of spruce, beech,
birch, and maple, will decay in four or five years; the pine and hemlock
tree require a much longer time. After the stumps are all removed the
land is turned up with the plough, and the same system of agriculture is
practised as in England.
Destructive fires often occur in the woods, sometimes from the effects
of lightning, but more frequently arising from the carelessness of
travellers and wood-fellers, who light fires at the roots of trees, and
take no trouble about extinguishing them afterwards. If the season
happens to be dry, the fire soon communicates to the surrounding trees,
and from thence spreading through the forest, it rages with a fury and
rapidity that we can scarcely form a conception of in European
countries. Let the reader, if possible, fancy the devouring flames
curling around the stems of the lofty pine trees, rushing up to their
dark tops, and ascending to an immense height amongst the dense clouds
of black smoke arising from a whole forest on fire. At each moment the
falling trees come down with a thundering crash, while sparks and
splinters of burning wood, driven on the wind, spread the destruction
far and wide,
“Through the grey giants of the sylvan wild.”
Human means are unavailing to check the progress of the conflagration;
onward it rushes, extending to every combustible substance, and
spreading desolation in its path until it is quenched by rain, or until
it has devoured every thing between it and the cleared lands, the sea,
or some river. In the year 1825 the country to the north of Miramichi
was visited by one of the most disastrous conflagrations that history
has ever recorded;[6] upwards of a hundred miles of the shores of
Miramichi were laid waste by the fire, which extended to Fredericton,
where it destroyed the governor’s residence and about eighty other
houses; and carried its ravages northward as far as the Bay de Chaleur.
[Illustration: _Fredericton—New Brunswick._]
From the Grand Falls the river takes a course nearly due south, bounded
on either side by precipitous banks and dense forests, whose solemn
gloom has not yet been cheered by the hand of man. About half way
between the Falls and Fredericton the waters of the Meduxnikeag unite
with those of the St. John. It is here the grand and sublime features of
the scenery of the latter river soften into the beautiful and
picturesque. The towering and abrupt precipices,—the overhanging
crags,—the dark and unpenetrated forests,—open into smiling plains and
cultivated farms; and the numerous beauties which Nature has lavished on
the scene, heightened by art, adorn the landscape with the cheering
prospect of human comfort and prosperity. The river from this place to
St. John is navigable for rafts and boats; and the settlements, though
numerous, are chiefly confined to the banks of the stream,—a situation
always selected by early settlers, from the advantages it possesses in
enabling them to dispose of the timber with which their land is
encumbered.
* * * * *
FREDERICTON, the seat of government of this province, is agreeably
situated on a level neck of land, on the south side of the River St.
John, about ninety miles above its mouth. The appearance of the town and
the adjacent country, viewed from the rising ground behind Fredericton,
is highly beautiful and luxuriant. Immediately beneath us stands the
College, a plain but extensive building, conspicuously placed on the
brow of a wooded eminence, overlooking the town; further down, on the
flat shore, lies the neat cheerful looking town; and at some distance on
the left, the handsome residence of the governor occupies a charming
site near the water. Bending almost round the town, the majestic river,
which is here not more than a mile in width, flows tranquilly between
its banks; but it is no longer a silent and lonely stream, where the
otter and the grey duck make their home, and—
“——with tawny limb,
And belts and beads in sun-light glistening,
The savage plies his skiff, like wild bird on the wing.”
Civilization and commerce are now busy upon its waters,—white sails are
gliding to and fro,—and the heavy rafts of the lumberers are seen
stealing slowly down the stream, or occasionally a steamer may be
observed, stemming the current that runs against her in her passage up
from St. John.
[Illustration: _Fredericton—New Brunswick._
From opposite.]
Following the course of the river downwards, the eye traces it for
several miles winding around bold headlands crowned with noble
trees,—or, lingering in those lovely bays where the sombre hue of the
surrounding forest scenery is relieved by cheerful settlements, green
fields, and comfortable farm houses, sprinkling the rich alluvial lands
that fringe the shores. Looking upwards, the scene is still more
picturesque and animated;—the face of the country exhibits more
extensive cultivation,—the settlements are more numerous,—the woods
seem to recede from the shores, yielding their ancient sovereignty of
the soil to the untiring industry of man. The best view of FREDERICTON
is had FROM THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE RIVER, from whence the town
presents a very pleasing appearance. Gay spires and white-walled
buildings are seen stretching along the shore for a considerable
distance; above these the College occupies a commanding situation; and
nearer to the spectator the tranquil river flows smoothly on, while the
dark green woods that clothe the undulating hills behind the town, form
a noble back ground to the picture:—if to this the reader adds a
glorious summer sky, overhanging and brightening all beneath, the
landscape will be complete.
[Illustration: _The Green at Fredericton._]
* * * * *
THE GOVERNOR’S HOUSE stands at a short distance from the town, in one of
the most romantic and picturesque situations imaginable. It is a light
and elegant structure, forming a very agreeable object from the river,
surrounded as it is by ornamented plantations, and sheltered by fine
upland slopes, clad with rich and beautiful foliage. The town of
Fredericton is laid out with great regularity; the streets crossing at
right angles, as in almost all American towns. The public buildings are
not numerous; the principal are—the Government House, the College
already mentioned, and the barracks, which are good and commodious. The
Episcopal church is a very unpretending building; there are besides,
four other places of religious worship in the town for the Presbyterian,
Methodist, Baptist, and Roman Catholic inhabitants. The environs are
exceedingly pretty; neat houses, smiling gardens, and comfortable farms
being scattered in every direction.
[Illustration: _The Governor’s House, Fredericton._]
The condition of the settlers in the neighbourhood of Fredericton, St.
John, and other large towns, is very different from that of the
adventurous men who go forth to make a clearing in the woods;—their
difficulties not being numerous, nor the labour so incessant, as that
which the first settler has to encounter. The farms of the former are
generally in a high state of cultivation: the rude log-hut has given
place to a well-built and commodious dwelling-house, where the farmer,
with his family and a numerous establishment of household servants,
mechanics, and labourers, reside. Around the main building are
scattered, with little regard to regularity or uniformity of appearance,
barns, cattle-sheds, stables, workshops, and out-offices; and not
unfrequently a grist mill and a saw mill;—all bearing evidence of the
thriving condition of the proprietor, who, if he lives near the river,
is also generally engaged in the timber trade, and employs large gangs
of lumberers in the woods. The following picture of one of these
industrious and active individuals, who had settled near Fredericton,
may serve, with few exceptions, for the whole class:—This man was worth
absolutely nothing when he settled on his farm, yet by industry and
perseverance, he had acquired, in seven years, a handsome independence.
“He could do little more than read and write; and his manners, though
quite unpolished, were not rude. He had a wonderful readiness of
address, and, as far as related to his own pursuits, quick powers of
invention and application. He raised large crops, ground his own corn,
manufactured the flax he cultivated and the wool of his sheep into
coarse cloths; sold the provisions which his farm produced, and rum and
British goods, to the lumberers, and received timber in payment. He made
axes and other tools required by the lumberers, at his forge. He ate,
gambled, and associated with his own labourers, and all others, who made
his house a kind of rallying point; he appeared, however, to be a sober
man, and a person who had in view an object of gain in every thing he
engaged in.” The person thus described was an American; and it is an
indisputable fact, that there are no people who can more readily adapt
themselves to all the circumstances peculiar to a new colony than the
descendants of the first settlers in the United States. They exhibit
much more perseverance and ingenuity than the British colonists; and
though the English farmer is decidedly superior to the Yankee in
agricultural knowledge, the latter possesses, in a greater degree, a
quickness of invention where any thing is required that can be supplied
by the use of edge tools. An American settler is not only a carpenter
and joiner, but he can, if necessary, turn his hand to various other
handicrafts;—he tans leather, builds boats, makes baskets, soap, and
sugar; and is his own smith, farrier, tailor, and shoemaker. Almost
every farmer has a loom in his house, and his wife and daughters spin
the yarn from the wool and flax produced on the farm, and afterwards
weave it into cloth. The home-manufactured woollen cloth is rather
coarse, but extremely durable; it is generally dyed a blue colour.
[Illustration: _Indian Town._
(River St. John.)]
The habitations of the Americans who have settled in the British
colonies are generally better constructed than those of any other
settlers who have not had the advantage of many years’ residence in the
country. But though the house of the English emigrant, from his
imperfect knowledge of the use of edge tools, is usually a very clumsy
affair, the peculiar neatness and comfort which prevails within doors
more than compensates for the want of mechanical skill displayed
without.
It has been well observed, that the virtue of cleanliness is one of
those which Englishwomen never forget; I may add, that no women exhibit
more industry and cheerfulness than the wives of the English settlers.
It is no uncommon thing to see amongst them women, who have been
tenderly and delicately brought up, milking their own cows, making their
own butter, and performing tasks of household work from which they
formerly would have shrunk. But a determination to conform to
circumstances, soon reconciles a sensible woman to the duties of her new
situation; and that which was at first irksome, becomes, in a short
time, not only endurable, but a source of real gratification. The value
of an industrious, active, and cheerful partner, can be estimated by no
one so well as a settler in a new colony. It is to her that he owes all
his domestic comforts and enjoyments. Like the prudent housewife
described by King Solomon, “She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh
willingly with her hands. She looketh well to the ways of her household,
and eateth not the bread of idleness.” Her accomplishments are numerous,
but not exactly those that a fine lady in England might expect. Her
skill is shown in the arts of manufacturing maple sugar; candle and
soap-making; baking, cooking, salting meat and fish, knitting stockings
and mittens, spinning woollen yarns, feeding poultry, managing a dairy,
and, lastly, in mending and making clothes for herself, her husband, and
children. These are the occupations of an emigrant’s wife; and if a
female cannot resolve to enter upon them cheerfully, she should never
think of settling in the woods of Canada or New Brunswick.
The grand features of American scenery cannot be viewed to greater
advantage than when sailing down one of those vast rivers which roll the
accumulated tributes of a thousand streams in one majestic flood to the
ocean. For this reason, I would recommend any traveller wishing to
proceed from Fredericton to St. John, to take his passage by one of the
steam-boats which ply between these places. Descending the St. John, the
traveller cannot avoid remarking the extreme beauty of the shores, which
present a succession of undulating hills, alternating with plains of the
richest alluvial land. Sometimes the river assumes the appearance of a
picturesque lake, studded with islands of varied form and size,
reflecting, in its glassy surface, the tints of the lofty pine woods, by
which it seems hemmed in. At other times, confined between rocky shores,
it rushes onward with troubled speed; until, again expanding into a
broad stream, it glides, in tranquil beauty, between its beautiful
shores. Frequently, struck by the grandeur of the scenery by which we
were passing, have I longed to gaze upon it at my leisure; but our boat,
like the monster Time, stayed not for my ardent wishes; and a passing
glimpse was often all I could obtain of those wild and beautiful spots.
Yet purer pleasure I have seldom experienced than when gliding down this
noble river. I can now picture to myself the dense and lofty forests,
clothing the upland slopes; the lofty hills that overhung the stream,
with pleasant vales between, full of rich fields and green pastures,
sprinkled with flocks and herds, and here and there the cheerful white
shingled dwellings of the industrious settlers. Sometimes the white sail
of a fisherman’s boat, or the painted canoe of the Indian, would cross
us in our course. Numerous timber rafts, dropping sluggishly down with
the stream, were overtaken and passed by us, with groups of lumberers
stretched lazily on the floating mass, smoking, drinking, or sleeping in
the sun, and enjoying their brief respite from slavish toil by
uncontrolled abandonment to the luxury of idleness. I shall not,
however, attempt a very minute description of the beautiful and fertile
shores of the St. John River, which, in its descent from Fredericton to
the Long Reach, receives the waters of the Washedemoak and Grand Lake
from the east, and the Oromocto from the west. At the head of the Long
Reach, the lands on either side, and the pretty islands which divide the
river into several streams, are unequalled in beauty and fertility.
Belle Isle Bay, a fine sheet of water, branches off here, and extends
into the country a considerable distance. The spacious estuary of the
Kennebecasis next attracts our attention. The shores are abrupt and
rocky, but highly cultivated. A lovely tract of land called Sussex Vale
lies near the head of the bay, thickly populated, and evincing by its
appearance the prosperity and industry of its inhabitants. About a mile
above the city of St. John, the river, contracted from the spacious
opening of the Kennebecasis Bay, foams over and amongst a number of huge
rocky masses, which appear to have been hurled from the adjacent heights
into the bed of the stream, and, except at certain times of the tide,
render the navigation of the river completely impracticable. This
cataract, or rather succession of cataracts, forms what is called THE
FALLS OF ST. JOHN. Above the Falls, the expanded river forms a bay of
some extent, surrounded by high and rugged woodlands. At the lower end
of this bay, and at a short distance from the Falls, stands the
picturesque village of INDIAN TOWN, which, owing to the hindrance of the
navigation of the river by the Falls, has become a kind of lesser port
to St. John, where numbers of small craft load and unload their cargoes.
The steamer for Fredericton also lies here; the distance to St. John
being not more than a mile and a half, by a good road. The best view of
the UPPER FALLS is obtained from the bold heights about midway between
Indian Town and St. John. From this spot, looking up the river, the
waters are seen rushing in an immense body through the scattered rocks
which intercept their progress:—above the Falls the quiet bay spreads
out its blue waves, as if in contrast to the turmoil below, winding
round the abrupt promontories, and washing the white walls of the
village of Indian Town, which is here a beautiful object in the picture.
[Illustration: _Split Rock._
(St. John River.)]
THE SPLIT ROCK is that portion of the Falls lying nearest to St. John.
The river here, pent between steep and rugged rocks, foams through its
narrow channel with a tremendous roaring noise. The accompanying
engraving represents these Rapids as they appear at low water, when the
turbulent stream assumes an aspect of terrible and imposing grandeur.
The approach to St. John from Indian Town is through the adjoining
village of Portland, a place of some importance as regards the trade and
commerce carried on there. It is the great depôt for the timber brought
down from the interior of the country, and the principal wharfs and
warehouses being situated in this part of the city, the traffic is
consequently most considerable there.
The intelligent and amusing author of “Sam Slick,” speaking of the
harbour of St. John, says:—“No person on entering this harbour, for the
first time, could suppose that it was the outlet of one of the largest
rivers on the American continent, as it is in no way to be distinguished
in appearance from any of those numerous inlets of the sea that render
the coast of the British provinces every where accessible to ships of
the largest class. As soon, however, as he gets a view of this noble
stream, and becomes acquainted with its magnitude, he feels that St.
John is destined by nature, as well as by the activity and intelligence
of its inhabitants, to become the next largest city to New York on this
continent.” To judge of the importance of its situation, the spectator
should view the HARBOUR AND CITY OF ST. JOHN from the heights over
Portland. From this vantage ground the landscape is magnificent. He will
behold, as upon a map spread beneath his feet, prairies, mountains, and
woods; the noble harbour; the town, with masts of ships, spires of
churches, and houses of various sizes and colours; the heights of
Carleton, on the opposite side of the harbour; and, spreading away to
the southward, the Bay of Fundy, with the distant shores of Nova Scotia,
emerging darkly from the waters: these, with numerous other picturesque
features, form a splendid and beautiful panorama.
[Illustration: _St. John from the Signal._]
The artist of this work obtained another charming and extensive prospect
of ST. JOHN FROM THE SIGNAL, which is planted on the summit of a
commanding eminence that rises immediately behind the pretty little
village of Carleton.[7] The aspect of the town from this position is
exceedingly fine. Situated on a rocky peninsula projecting into a safe,
spacious, and convenient harbour, it appears designed by nature to
command the trade of the vast tract of country lying between it and the
River St. Lawrence. Indeed, from the appearance of its public
buildings,—of its wharfs and warehouses,—of the noble ships that crowd
its port, and of the numerous steamers that are perpetually plying to
and from Boston, Annapolis, Windsor, and other places,—it is but
reasonable to infer that the time is not far distant when this town will
assume an important position in the commercial world. At the entrance of
the harbour is Partridge Island, on which there is a light-house and a
quarantine station; and further in the harbour, a bar, extending across
from the western side beyond the point on which the city stands. A
beacon has been placed on this bar, which is quite dry at low water. The
tide, which runs with extraordinary force, rises in this harbour from
twenty-five to thirty feet perpendicular.
[Illustration: _St. John and Portland, New Brunswick._]