AROUND ABOUT ST. JOHN’S
Come with me for a drive around St. John’s. We can hire a touring car
of almost any make, but for novelty we choose a one-horse open coach.
The grizzled driver tells us times are dull with him just now, the
taxis getting most of the trade, but that he will have the best of it
in December, when the cars are laid up until spring on account of the
snow. St. John’s has an average of about four feet of snow in a season,
but I have seen pictures of the streets snowed in to the roofs of the
houses. The thermometer rarely falls below zero, but once the snows
begin, the ground is covered until April.
The chief business street of St. John’s is strung out for a mile or
more just back of the wharves. It is lined on both sides with three-
and four-story wood and brick buildings. Among the most modern is the
home for sailormen built by the Doctor Grenfell mission of Labrador
fame. Though the store windows look bright and attractive, many of the
shops are tiny affairs, and the street seems more English than American.
I notice many branches of Canadian banks, which monopolize the banking
business of Newfoundland. Contrary to the belief of many Americans,
Newfoundland politically is no more a part of Canada than it is of
New Zealand. It is a separate dominion of the British Empire, to
which its people are enthusiastically devoted, having more than
once refused to be federated with Canada. They will tell you that
the name of their country is pronounced with the accent on the last
syllable--New-found-_land_.
The main street of St. John’s has a trolley running practically its
entire length. Whenever the conductor collects a fare, he puts a little
ticket in a tiny cash register that he carries in his hand. Like all
the Newfoundlanders I have met, the car men are most courteous. One
of them left his car to ask a policeman on the corner to direct me to
the American consulate. Indeed, I like these Newfoundlanders. They
are cordial and hospitable and most polite, though sometimes I have
difficulty in understanding their Anglicized speech. I was told on the
ship that I would see none but natural complexions in St. John’s, and
as far as I have observed that is true, all the girls having bright
rosy cheeks. Both men and women here are long lived.
Our driver is now asking us to look at the government buildings. They
are high up above the harbour and surrounded by beautiful grounds. The
party having a majority in the lower house of parliament forms the
government and names the premier and his ministers. The upper house,
called the Legislative Assembly, consists of twenty-four members
appointed by the governor in council. The members of the lower house
are elected for terms of four years and meet every year. While the
humblest fisherman may be elected to parliament, Newfoundland has not
yet granted women the vote. It has no divorce laws.
Our next stop is at the west end of St. John’s, where the Waterford
River empties into the harbour. Here is a valley covered with truck
gardens, and beyond lies a park given to the city by one of its titled
shipping magnates. It is said that spring comes here two weeks earlier
than in the eastern end of town. The reason for this is that while the
fogs and the winds from the sea sweep over the bluffs at the harbour
entrance, they rarely penetrate to the valley.
Driving back to town we pass the station of the Newfoundland Government
Railway, a narrow gauge line that covers the most important parts of
the island. It runs far to the north, then to the west shore, and down
to Port aux Basques at the southwest. Branches jut out here and there,
linking the port towns with the main line and the capital. The greater
part of the south shore has no railroad, nor is there yet any line into
the Barbe Peninsula, which extends northward to Belle Isle Strait.
There is talk of bridging the Strait and connecting Newfoundland with
Canada by a rail line through northeastern Quebec.
The manager of the railroad tells me that the Newfoundland line is
unique in that its passenger revenues exceed its freight earnings. The
reason for this is that most of the people live near the sea, and the
bulk of freight goes by water. On the cross country route there are
many steep grades, for the interior is hilly, although the highest
point on the island is only two thousand feet above sea level. The
railroad skirts the shores of hundreds of lakes, of which Newfoundland
has more than it has found time to count. It is estimated that one
third of the land lies under water. I met a man to-day, just returned
from a hunting trip forty miles inland, who told me that he had stood
on a hilltop and counted one hundred lakes and ponds in plain sight.
He has a friend who has fished in no less than forty different ponds
within a half mile of his camp. Grand Lake, on the west side, is more
than fifty-six miles long, and two others are nearly as large.
American sportsmen have already discovered in Newfoundland hunting
and fishing grounds that rival those of Canada, and some of our rich
Americans have permanent camps along the rivers and streams on the
south and the west coasts, to which they come every summer for salmon.
The railroad manager promises that if I will take the train across
country I shall see herds of caribou from the car window.
Much of the land along the railway has been burned over, but
nevertheless the country has ten thousand square miles of well-timbered
land, worth as it stands five hundred million dollars. Some is being
cut for lumber, and more for mine props that go to England and Wales.
The chief use of the forests at present is to furnish pulp wood for
news print. Lord Northcliffe built at Grand Falls a six-million-dollar
plant, operated by water-power, to supply his newspapers and magazines,
and an even larger project, to cost twenty-five million dollars, is
now under way at the mouth of the Humber River, on the west coast. The
scenery there is much like that of the fiords of Norway.
The chief agricultural development of Newfoundland is on the west
side of the island, where stock is raised successfully and wintered
outdoors. This section of the country has produced as much as three
million pounds of beef or three times as much as the amount imported.
Newfoundland is not primarily, however, an agricultural country. The
efforts of the people have always centred largely on fishing and
related industries.
Newfoundland has had its gold fevers, especially on the coast of
Labrador, which it owns. So far, these have amounted to nothing. But
it has one of the world’s largest iron deposits, and at one time this
country was an important producer of copper. It suffers commercially
from its handicaps in the way of transportation, and also because of
its limited supply of capital.
In studying the map of Newfoundland, I have been interested in its many
fanciful names, and wish that I might see what inspired them. There
are, for example, “Heart’s Content” and “Heart’s Ease,” “Bay of Bulls”
and “Leading Tickle,” “Baldhead” and “Redhead Rocks.” “Come by Chance”
is a railroad station in eastern Newfoundland, while just to the north
is “Random.”
Most of the points on the Newfoundland coast were named by the early
mariners who learned from experience rather than charts how to navigate
these dangerous shores. To help remember sailing directions, they made
up little rhymes such as this one I learned from a schooner captain
just in from Labrador:
When Joe Bat’s point you are abreast,
Fogo Harbour bears due west;
It’s then your course that you must steer
Till Brimstone Head do appear.
And when Old Brimstone do appear,
Then Dean’s Rock you need not fear.