no doubt that Cape Breton is one of the most enjoyable spots on earth.
Gushing springs, dancing rills, plashing brooks, cascading rivulets,
musical streams, murmuring rivers, everywhere. What a wealth of graceful
ferns; what gardens of wildflowers; what splendid trees and noble
forests; what tranquil vales; what majestic mountains! And the blue sea,
the crested waves, the milky foam, the fleecy clouds! Surely such scenes
as these were in Sir Walter Scott’s mind when he wrote his Highland
Scene:
Here eglantine embalmed the air,
Hawthorn and hazel mingled there;
The primrose pale, and violet flower,
Found in each cliff a narrow bower;
* * * * *
Aloft the ash and warrior oak
Cast anchor in the rifted rock,
And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung
His shatter’d trunk, and frequent flung,
Where seem’d the cliffs to meet on high,
His boughs athwart the narrow’d sky.
Highest of all, where white peaks glanced,
Where glistening streamers waved and danced,
The wanderer’s eye could barely view
The summer heaven’s delicious blue;
So wondrous wild, the whole might seem
The scenery of a fairy dream.
The early settlement of Cape Breton was entirely French. At the time of
the expulsion of the Acadians from the peninsular part of Nova Scotia,
many took refuge in the then L’Isle Royale, or Cape Breton. The early
French, and the Acadians by whom they were afterwards joined, have
retained their old life in a remarkable degree. It is a delight to meet
them in modern up-to-date America. Scottish Highlanders, too, are in
Cape Breton in large numbers; and the virtues and customs of this rugged
and estimable people may be studied against the pleasant background of
mountain and flood, so like the home scenery of “Caledonia, stern and
wild.” Micmac Indians are here, too; but not in such great numbers as
formerly.
[Illustration]
First, following the line of the Intercolonial Railway from Point Tupper
by way of the Bras d’Or Lake to Sydney, the general appearance of the
country may be noticed.
The first view of the Island when approaching by the railway ferry is
quite impressive, although the peculiar features do not grow until the
interior is gradually reached. After passing McIntyre’s Lake there is
considerable up-grade to gain the height of the bold hills that are
capped in the distance by a still higher formation. The scene as the
height is gained is very striking, entirely distinct in character from
either the open, soft beauty of the Wentworth Valley, or the combination
of river, forest and mountain seen in the Matapedia district.
Here an immense valley lies in the very depths to the left. The tops of
the trees are far below, and, although we climb up and up, the great
trees still crowd the forest, with here and there a glistening stream
showing through the valley rifts. The woodland view is one of
unparalleled grandeur.
Descending, we skirt a huge mountain with tier after tier of woodland
stretching up into the heights; and here we dash out on an elevated
plateau to see a peaceful hamlet smiling in white and green in the
tranquil depths below.
[Illustration]
River Denys is a pretty stream of modest proportions running at the foot
of, and almost shut in by tall trees that tower up majestically in all
the glory of height and symmetry. A peculiar and picturesque aspect is
given to the woodland by the tall and slender birches, like palm
trees—devoid of branch and leaf below, and having only a feathery,
outspreading growth at the top.
There is a pleasing water view at Orangedale, with a charming vista of
green shores stretching out to the lake. The first impression of the
Bras d’Or Lake is one of peaceful calm, as the evening sun crimsons the
broad and far-reaching expanse of water.
The Great Bras d’Or Lake is about 45 miles long and nearly 20 miles
wide. It is very deep in nearly every part of it, varying from 90 to 350
feet. In one place a depth of 1200 feet has been found, just a short
distance from the shore. Old maps and references give the name
“Labrador” for this beautiful lake. It may also be mentioned that
Nicholas Denys published a book in Paris in the latter half of the
seventeenth century in which he refers to the Bras d’Or Lake as “Le Lac
de Labrador.” The present name is undoubtedly founded on the old one. It
is almost identical in pronunciation, too; and as it has a meaning, “arm
of gold,” that describes the appearance of the lake at sunrise and
sunset, it has come into general use.
The Little Bras d’Or Lake, exclusive of channels, is about ten miles
long; its breadth nearly six miles. It has a depth of 700 feet in
places. Two peninsulas nearly meet at the Grand Narrows and thus almost
separate the Great from the Little Bras d’Or. The two lakes are called
the Bras d’Or Lakes; but because their waters communicate so that a
passage from one to the other may easily be made through the Grand
Narrows channel, the whole water system is now frequently called the
Bras d’Or Lake.
The Bras d’Or Lake is really an inland sea, or, more correctly, an arm
of the Atlantic Ocean. In the waters of the upper or smaller of the two
lakes is the long and narrow island, Boularderie, some 28 miles long,
and nearly three miles wide at its northern end, where it fronts on the
Atlantic. East and west of it are channels or inlets from the ocean.
That on the east, tide-swept and impassable for large boats, is the
Little Bras d’Or or St. Andrews channel. The wider channel on the west
side may be traversed by any vessel afloat, as it has a depth of from
thirty to two hundred feet. Both channels lead south through the Grand
Narrows into the larger of the two lakes, where at the southern end the
narrow isthmus has been cut, and where a canal with locks enables
vessels to pass in and out.
It has been said of the Bras d’Or that it is the most beautiful
salt-water lake ever seen. The substance of Warner’s comment is seen to
be true by all who visit these shores. “The water runs into lovely bays
and lagoons, having slender tongues of land and picturesque islands. It
has all the pleasantness of a fresh-water lake, with all the advantages
of a salt one.” There is practically no tide, the comparatively narrow
sea entrances acting to resist the flow of water out and in. The
difference in level is usually less than a foot.
[Illustration: Boularderie Island, Bras d’Or Lake]
One or more of the numerous cruises on these waters, described later,
should be taken, as well as the journey over the railway, now resumed.
The view of the lake as McKinnon’s Harbor is approached is beautiful.
The tree growth is larger, fantastic little islands dot the smooth
water, and the whole panorama of mainland, island and broad lake is
indeed magnificent. Nearing Iona the peculiar appearance of the
landscape whitened by the outcroppings of gypsum or plaster rock is very
noticeable. In many places the shore view of headland and water is very
similar to that on the Atlantic coast, except in the placidity of the
water. At Ottawa Brook a lovely view of island-dotted lake is seen
stretching out in a far-away and pleasing vista to the south. At a small
siding, nearby, a small meadow stream meanders fantastically through a
verdant plain that is dotted with haystacks, and has here and there
little bridges raised high above the general level to keep them secure
in the time of spring and flood—a time of utmost consequence to farmers
of intervale, for it brings rich deposits of alluvial mud to fertilize
the low-lying fields.
[Illustration]
From Iona, and Grand Narrows on the opposite shore, the steamer
_Bluehill_ makes connections for Baddeck, and from Grand Narrows another
boat leaves for St. Peter’s and other points. At Iona station, by the
“narrows,” passengers may take the opportunity of alighting to see the
fine Intercolonial Railway bridge that spans the channel. It has a
“draw” near the Grand Narrows side to allow vessels to pass from upper
lake to lower, or the reverse. Grand Narrows attracts tourists to its
comfortable hotel on the water, as it makes a good centre for seeing the
surrounding country. It is also a place of call for the lake steamboats.
There are fine views to be had in the vicinity.
The run over the railway from Grand Narrows by Boisdale, Barachois and
George’s River to Sydney is a pleasant one along the eastern shore of
the upper lake; and it should be made both ways in order to see the
water after sunrise and at sunset—the two effects being quite different.
Journeying and looking out on the shore, at times a sandy crescent is
seen to run out into the lake and terminate in gentle mound, green sward
and comely tree-growth. Often there are small lakes, and frequently a
little chain of such; and at these places, with the boats of the
fishermen drawn up on the strand between the great lakes and the lakes
in miniature, the scene is novel and most striking.
Here are two sandy arms running out, and drawing together at their outer
ends—forming a harbor within a harbor—where a little flotilla of
brown-sailed fishing craft rides snugly, protected even from the windy
scud of a stormy day.
[Illustration: CAPE BRETON SCENES]
1. Woodland Scene
2. Brook Scene
3. An Old Mill
4. Farm Paddock
5. Mira River
6. Catch of Salmon, Margaree River
7. River Denys
8. Middle River
9. St. Ann’s Bay
Over there a small headland of some forty feet in height has lost its
crown of brown rocks that lie in picturesque disorder at its base,
lapped by the gentle ripple of the tide, and mimicking the giant scenes
of the rugged Atlantic shore. Nor are bolder effects wanting, for
yonder, across the channel, a huge mountain rises proudly to the sky;
and it, too, has thrown part of its rocky cap down and far out into the
deeper tide.
[Illustration]
No more beautiful view of mountain, blue water and gently-sloping wooded
shore can be seen than that between Barachois and Sydney River; and on a
morning when the bright sun has dissipated the early mists, and rides
resplendent in a sky dotted here and there with fleecy clouds, the
picture is truly superb.
The pleasing effect of the tree-dotted sand bars running out from the
shore—making lagoons whose tranquil silver surfaces, protected by tiny
headlands, show in delightful contrast with the deep blue of the more
ruffled outer waters—must be seen before an adequate conception of their
great beauty can be formed. There is a great difference between coast
scenery and that of what may be termed an inner coast shore, such as
that of the Bras d’Or Lake.
If the scenery of outer coast is striking and grand in its rugged
majesty, that of the calmer and more protected inner shore compels
admiration for its softer effects—no less striking in their tranquil
beauty—scenic miniatures in nature’s most exquisite setting.
The city of Sydney has become the centre of a district that is rapidly
increasing in population and commercial importance. It is the capital of
Cape Breton, and the great mining and manufacturing industries of the
Island centre altogether in this eastern district. It is the present
terminus of the Intercolonial Railway. It has an exceedingly fine
harbor. This harbor is divided into two arms, known as the ports of
Sydney and North Sydney, and the average depth of water is fifty feet.
The water area is very extensive, so much so that Sydney ranks as one of
the world’s great harbors. The north and south bars at the entrance act
as natural break-waters, and the inner waters are easy of access.
[Illustration]
While it is generally known that the distance from Sydney to Liverpool
is much less than that from New York to the British port, it will come
as a great surprise to most when they learn how much closer Sydney is
than New York to points in South America and South Africa. For instance,
Pernambuco, at the most easterly projection of the South American
continent, is nearer to Sydney than New York by 24 miles. New Orleans,
an extreme southern port of the United States, is even more distant from
the South American point named by a stretch of over 575 miles; and,
strange as it may seem, the voyage to the Cape of Good Hope in South
Africa is very much shorter from Sydney than from United States ports.
Sydney River offers a broad and pleasant stream for boating. The country
by the lower part is flat, but becomes hilly and nicely wooded as the
upper waters are gained. For some distance inland there are excellent
runs for motor-boating, sailing, rowing and canoeing. Crawley’s Creek is
also a good boating place. There are many pleasant drives to the lakes
in the vicinity, as well as to many pretty inlets on the coast, and by
the inner waters of the harbor. There is an excellent view from Victoria
Park at the end of the peninsula. The district surrounding Sydney has a
number of pleasant features, and the city itself may be chosen as a
centre for excursions to Port Morien, the Mira River and Louisbourg.
North Sydney is the port from which the steamers of the
Reid-Newfoundland line leave for Port-aux-Basques, Newfoundland; and
from this port steamers may be taken for St. John’s, Newfoundland, as
well as to Hawkesbury, Halifax, Charlottetown, Montreal, Quebec, St.
Pierre and Miquelon. There is a good ferry service between here and
Sydney, local lines for points on the Bras d’Or Lakes, and, in addition,
there are steamers to northern points along the eastern shore of Cape
Breton.
Those who visit here from the great manufacturing and mining centres of
the United States will, of course, be familiar with coal mining and
steel plants; but many others who come from other industrial centres
will find it both interesting and instructive to visit the works of the
Nova Scotia Steel and Coal Company and collieries, etc., in the
neighborhood. The various industries of this kind hereabouts will soon
rival the giant industries of Pennsylvania; and all interested in such
industries should spend some days in seeing the many novel sights they
offer. Those who have never seen a similar sight should by all means see
a cast made at the Dominion Steel Works. The coal industry is now an
immense one. In these days of coal at seven dollars a ton it seems
strange to read that at the time of the inglorious Quebec Expedition
under Admiral Walker, coal in quantities was taken from the Sydney
cliffs with iron crow-bars.
[Illustration: A Cape Breton Road]
The Marconi “Wireless” Station at Table Head, Glace Bay, with its four
towers, is sure to be an object of interest to all who go near this part
of the coast.
That giant fish the Albacore, or leaping-tuna, weighing from 500 to 800
pounds and over, is caught along the North Atlantic coast in certain
favored spots. At Lockeport and other places on the South Shore of Nova
Scotia they are caught in great trap nets. They are also caught off the
Cape Breton coast; and as the honor of catching the first of these
monstrous fish with rod and line not far from Sydney fell to the
well-known sportsman, Mr. Ross, of Montreal, a description from Patillo
of a hand-line expedition for albacore is here given.
“Stout cod-lines were used, 32 fathoms long. The hook was of steel,
three-eighths of an inch thick. It was eight inches wide, and had a
three-inch shank. A stiff, moderately low boat was used, and the lines
were attached to swivel reels to run them on and off. Herrings were
taken for bait. We started off and soon reached the fishing ground.
Presently one of the fishermen casting nets nearby called out to us,
‘Halloa, boys! here’s a fellow!’ meaning an albacore, followed by a
shout from another, and still another that they were about their boats;
so we slowly moved outside the range of the boats, throwing over a
herring every few yards to toll them along with us. When far enough away
we secured the reel to the boat athwart, for we were a bit afraid of the
fish we expected to grapple with. Then I threw over a herring to see if
there were any albacores near us, and to our delight a monster rushed
for it just under the surface, so I threw another loose herring, and
then one attached to the hook. He rushed for the first one, whirled and
took hold of the other, and we had hold of him. Then for a few minutes
we had a good imitation of the antics of a wild prairie horse when first
haltered. He jumped his full length out of the water, which gave us a
very vivid idea of the monster we were attached to; then he started at
an awful pace across the harbor. The line was running out swiftly, so
that we had to move as quickly to get it into the notch in the stern,
which we had wisely thought to make. Then I seized an oar and placed it
for steering, while we both got positions to trim the boat. We feared
something might break if the boat remained motionless; so to obviate
this my friend succeeded in grasping the line partially, and thereby
gradually started the boat, while I helped by sculling, so that by the
time it was all off the reel, she was moving faster than ever she did
before. The fish kept up the pace for at least ten minutes, towing us
directly into the harbor; then he made a jump, turned and took us
straight back to the fishing grounds. The men in fishing boats had been
watching us with great interest, not supposing for a moment they were to
have any part in it; but when they saw us going directly for them, the
shouting and hooting and swearing that suddenly started from them would
have been laughable to disinterested spectators. We could see plainly
that if he continued the course he was then taking us, nothing short of
a collision with one or more of the boats would follow.
“Pandemonium appeared about to reign. The boats were very near. We were
all greatly excited, for we realized there was danger of foundering. I
jumped with my knife to free the fish. In the rush my foot slipped, and
I went headlong on my mate, the knife flying overboard. Before anything
could be done to free the albacore, we ran into a boat with a heavy
crash, filling it with water, and upsetting most of their herring. The
sudden resistance caused the albacore to spring again, when, to save
ourselves from being spilled out, one of the men cut the line.
“Then the boats were baled out and work resumed. After the danger was
over we all roared with laughter, scream after scream.
“The freed albacore paraded all around the harbor that day, jumping out
of the water dozens of times with our line still attached to him.
“Seeing so many around, we decided to try for another. The fishermen,
however, hesitated about supplying us with bait, fearing a repetition of
the peril if we hooked another. After coaxing, we got what we wanted and
started off again, throwing herrings as we went. When we thought
ourselves well out we stopped to make ready for another strike.
“I stood up and threw out a herring. In a moment it was grabbed. Then
the baited hook went over, was seized in a trice, and once more we had a
fish. This second fellow was even more lively than the first, and his
rushing and jumping was something wonderful to witness. He began pulling
us off at once. To make his speed less we crossed our oars and held back
water, which acted like a drag. Suddenly like the other, he turned at
right angles and led us off in the new direction, fully ten minutes.
Then he headed for the boats—mischief in his eye. We were now threatened
with mishap worse than before, for the boats were by this time deeply
loaded. What was to be done? He made another leap at this juncture,
falling more clumsily than before. He was weakening! The men in the
boats were now gesticulating and yelling for us to set him free. But we
were growing hopeful as the speed of the boat grew perceptibly less.
Soon we were able to gather in line to within a few fathoms of him.
Within 150 yards of the boats he stopped short. We hauled up. What a
beauty! Ten feet long, and weighing over 600 pounds. Three cheers were
given as with a rope through his gills we towed him to the beach. We
gave him to the men whose herrings we had spilled. Surely a royal sport.
The equal of any fishing on the Pacific Coast.”
Port Morien is reached by the Sydney and Louisbourg Railway, a line
running east to the coast, and then south to Louisbourg. The little town
on the coast has a harbor, breakwater, excellent beach, and a
considerable fish industry. It also has valuable coal deposits.
[Illustration]
The Mira River district, half-way down the coast towards Louisbourg,
abounds in picturesque views; and a journey over the beautiful river,
with its remarkable clear water, is a veritable treat. An old French
shipyard was once here, some remains of which are still visible; and the
hulls of many small craft may be seen below water. The course leads
through a ravine that is sheltered from the sun for most of the day, the
coves and small headlands of which give many pretty views. Pleasant
fishing streams and brooks empty themselves along the course of the Mira
River, and numerous evidences of the early French days are seen as the
upper waters are reached. Pleasant islands, also, vary the way, some of
them in picturesque clusters. A number of inviting-looking bays and
several villages are passed, and as Marion Bridge is gained the country
becomes more hilly and varied. Salmon River, which empties into the
Mira, is a favorite fishing stream, and, in addition, it offers many
beautiful views. Near the head of Mira River is Victoria Bridge, from
which pleasant drives may be taken to Gaberouse on the bay of that name,
to Framboise, and to Fourché, all quiet fishing villages remote from
travel highways, and on that account interesting to see.
When the Treaty of Utrecht gave France the right to hold and fortify
Cape Breton, the name of the Island became L’Isle Royale, and choice of
a place was soon made for the erection of a stronghold or fortress to
maintain possession of this commanding approach to her vast inland
territory. Havre a l’Anglois was the place selected, and its name was
changed to Louisbourg in honor of the French monarch of that time, Louis
XIV. The history of this interesting place was for many years the
history of the whole island.
Work on the fortifications of Louisbourg was commenced in the early part
of the eighteenth century. It continued for over twenty years, and the
whole defensive system was planned by Vauban, the great French engineer.
So strong was the place made that it became known as the Dunkirk of
America. Towards the middle of the century the population of Louisbourg
had increased to 4000, and it was rapidly becoming a place of great
importance. Islands in the harbor were strongly fortified to command the
water approach, while on the land the solid fortification walls, over
ten feet thick and more than thirty feet high, protected by a great
ditch with earthworks, glacis, bastions and citadel, all united to form
an almost impregnable position. The approaches could be swept by gun
fire from nearly 150 cannon.
[Illustration]
It was not long before the British colonists of New England took alarm
at the construction of such formidable works in a place where they could
be used as a basis of operations against them; a plan for attacking the
fortress by volunteers from Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and
New Hampshire was agreed upon, and a strong expedition left Nantasket
for Cape Breton waters.
From the very first, success attended the efforts of the Colonials; and
after many spirited attacks, the place, though ably defended by the
French, fell before the continued assault. This was in 1745. Three years
later Cape Breton and its great fortress of Louisbourg were given back
to France by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle.