The River St. John.
Woodstock. July.
I have recently performed a pilgrimage along the valley of the Lower St.
John, and as I am about to leave the river, it is meet that I should
give my reader a record of my observations. The distance from the Falls
of St. John to the city of that name, is two hundred and twenty miles.
The width varies from a quarter of a mile to nearly two miles, and the
depth from two to forty feet. That portion lying north of Frederickton,
abounds in rapids and shallows, and is navigated only by flat-bottomed
boats, which are taken up stream by horse power, but descend with the
current. Here, for the most part, the shores are mountainous, and only
partly cultivated, with high and picturesque banks; the lowest portion,
however, is of a level character, and presents the appearance of an
ancient and highly cultivated country, and is navigated by steam-boats,
and the common sail craft of the country. The soil, all along the
shores, is good, but seems better adapted for grass than wheat, and I
can see no good reason for its not becoming greatly distinguished as a
grazing country.
The river is not distinguished for any pictorial feature, (though it
abounds in beautiful landscapes,) excepting a place called the Narrows,
situated at the southern extremity. At this point, the stream is not
more than five hundred yards wide, and as it is bounded on either side
by a high, rocky barrier, the current ordinarily passes through with
great rapidity. The tides of the ocean ascend about thirty miles, and it
is only when the tide is high that the point in question can be
navigated. Though these Narrows are a great annoyance to the navigator,
by the lover of the picturesque they are highly esteemed. Not only are
they beautiful in themselves, but, owing to the peculiarity of the
place, it is frequently the case that the broad expanse of water above
it, is covered with a fleet of sloops, schooners, steam-boats,
tow-boats, and timber-crafts, which present a peculiar and agreeable
panorama. The river abounds with salmon and shad, the former of which,
though rather small, may be taken by the angler in the principal
tributaries. They are not sufficiently abundant, however, to constitute
an important article of commerce, and the common modes for taking them
are with the spear, and the drift-net.
The principal towns on the St. John are, Woodstock, French Village,
Frederickton, and St. John. The first of these is one hundred and fifty
miles from the mouth, and though a ragged, yet an interesting village.
So far as its natural productions are concerned, I am disposed to
compliment this Province in the highest terms; but I must say that the
ignorance, idleness, and gouging character of its common people, have
made me quite willing to take my departure therefrom. The expenses of
travelling are enormous, and so also are all the little incidentals
which go to make a man comfortable.
The stage-route from the Grand Falls to St. John passes through
Woodstock, but the distance from this place to the American town of
Houlton, is ten miles, and in this direction there is also an
established stage-route to Bangor.
The next place on the St. John, of any note, is French Village. It
usually contains a thousand souls—most of them Indians. They live in
frame and log-houses, and though they pretend to do some farming, they
are chiefly engaged in hunting and fishing. They are a good-looking
race, speak English fluently, and are the followers of a Catholic
priest, who lives among them, and officiates in a small chapel, which
was built by the Jesuits at an early day. This society is said to be one
of the most wealthy in the Province. The chief of the village is one
Louis Beir. He lives in a very comfortable, and well-furnished house, is
rather a handsome man, dresses in a half-savage manner, and while he
offers his visitor a comfortable chair, he invariably seats himself upon
the floor in true Indian fashion.
Frederickton is at the head of steam-boat navigation, and distant from
St. John eighty miles. Between these two places there runs a morning and
evening boat, and the summer travel is very extensive. Frederickton
contains about eight thousand inhabitants, composed principally, of
Irish, Scotch, and English. It contains three principal streets, running
north and south, and some half-dozen handsome public buildings,
including an Episcopal church, after the Tuscan order, a Court House and
a College. The town is situated on a level plain, and its suburbs are
made exceedingly beautiful by the number of rural residences which
attract the eye in every direction. The elm and poplar both seem to
flourish here, and add much to the picturesqueness of the place and
vicinity. The business of Frederickton is only of a second-rate
character, and it has become what it is, merely from the fact that it
has heretofore been the seat of Government. This fact has also had a
tendency to collect a good society in the place, and its “ton,” though
in a small way have been disposed to cut quite a dash. The “mother
Parliament,” I believe, have recently removed the seat of government to
St. John, and the lovers of Frederickton are sorry, and a little angry.
The city of St. John stands at the mouth of the river of that name, and
is also laved by the waters of the Bay of Fundy. I hate cities, but
suppose that I must stop a moment in the one alluded to. It is a
business place, planted among rocks, contains some twenty thousand
inhabitants, (two-thirds of whom are Irish,) and in its port, at the
present time, is moored a fleet of two hundred ships. Its public
buildings are numerous, the finest of which are the Court House, an
Episcopal church, of the Doric order, another after the Gothic, and a
Presbyterian church, after the Corinthian order. The city is defended by
a fortress, which presents a handsome appearance as you approach the
port. The merchants of the place are chiefly employed in the
square-timber trade, and have heretofore done an extensive business.
This trade, however, I am inclined to believe, is rapidly running out.
On the opposite side of the St. John’s river is a picturesque point, or
hill, which is called Carlton Hill. It is surmounted by a massive
block-house, and commands an extensive prospect of the Bay of Fundy, the
spring tides of which rise to the height of sixty feet, and when coming
in make a terrible roar.