Part 6
Are among the most interesting of the objects which secure the visits of tourists to Quebec, both on account of their own attractiveness and the pleasant drive by which they are reached. The “carters” of Quebec are as numerous as those of Montreal, and the roads around the city and in the country adjacent are among the finest to be found anywhere. Securing your driver, you leave the city by one of the gates, and, crossing the St. Charles River, are soon in the suburbs, passing here and there a house or villa of modern style, but speedily coming to the realm of the ancient; the road leading through quaint old hamlets, the cottages with their picturesque dormer windows, the thatched-roofed outbuildings, and the peasant-like appearance of the people, combined with the universal employment of the French language, strengthen the fancy for the time being that America must be far away, and that the rural districts of France or Switzerland are the scenes through which your trip is made. Children run beside the carriage, asking alms or offering flowers, while the women and older girls are at work in the fields, or spinning with their rude wheels in the open doorways or on the porches of the little houses. The antiquated implements of agriculture, the rude carts by the roadside, and the rustic crosses by the way, at which some devout pilgrim, perchance, is tarrying to breathe a _Pater Noster_, all tend to complete the illusion of a remoter age or more distant clime than the few hours’ ride from bustling, modern, Yankee civilization.
The ride of eight miles all too quickly brings you to the River Montmorenci, and here you gaze upon historic ground, it being the scene of the battle of Montmorenci which immediately preceded Wolfe’s final victory at Quebec. Leaving your carriage, and paying a small fee for the privilege of crossing private grounds, you descend the bank of the river to look up at the fall from below. The river here pours over the cliff into the St. Lawrence, broadening at the edge to about 50 feet, and falling 250, in a sheeny vail, half water, half spray, not sublime, nor even grand, but exquisitely beautiful.
The towers on either side of the river still mark the spot where, several years ago, a suspension bridge was erected, but which, through some defect, gave way as a laborer and his family were crossing in a cart, precipitating them into the gulf below.
Returning to Quebec, the views of the city are enlivened by the peculiar feature of glistening towers and roofs, so noticeable in connection with many Canadian cities. The sunlight, glancing from the metal-covered roofs, spires, and dormer windows, which, owing to the tortuous windings of the streets, are set at every conceivable angle, produces a brilliant and sparkling effect.
If you are ever tempted to indulge in sentiment, the words of the poet, used to describe the Celestial city, may come into mind:--
“There is the city in splendor sublime; See how its towers and battlements shine.”
THE SAGUENAY RIVER.
This is the largest affluent of the St. Lawrence, which it joins about 120 miles below Quebec. The scenery of the Saguenay is strikingly grand and romantic, and unlike anything else east of the Rocky Mountains. It is usually visited by boat, and the trip down the St. Lawrence to Tadousac, at the junction of the two streams, and up the Saguenay among its bold, wild scenery, should not be omitted, even at the expense of slighting some other point of interest lying in the highways of fashionable travel.
Leaving Quebec by steamer, you pass through some remarkably fine scenery, in which the majestic St. Lawrence abounds, the river being in some places thirty miles in width, and dotted with a multitude of islands, abounding in game. The Falls of St. Anne are on the river of that name, which enters the St. Lawrence off the lower end of Orleans Island through a bold ravine. The quarantine station on Grosse Isle is passed, and is associated with sad memories of the famine in Ireland. It received twenty thousand plague-stricken emigrants, of whom six thousand now lie in a single grave, marked by a stone monument.
Ninety miles below Quebec is the fashionable watering place known as Murray Bay. The river is here twenty miles wide, and the tides have a range of twenty feet in height. On the south shore of the river, still further down, is Riviere du Loup, a place of some importance, and six miles below it is Cacouna, already quite famous as a pleasure resort, and yearly increasing in popularity. Across the river from Cacouna is Tadousac, at the mouth of the far-famed Saguenay, formerly a place of some commercial importance as a post of the Hudson Bay Company, and one of the first towns on the St. Lawrence fortified by the French. It has a good hotel, near which is a little church over 250 years old.
The Saguenay River is remarkable, not only for its great depth, but also for the marvelous height of its banks. It seems to flow through a rift in the Laurentian Mountains, which appear to be cleft, as it were, to the very foundations, the height of the cliffs rising from the edge of the river being equaled only by the depth to which they descend below the surface. The source of the river is 130 miles from its junction with the St. Lawrence, in Lake St. John, which is fed by eleven rivers, draining an immense watershed, the great volume resultant pouring through this remarkable gorge, in many places unfathomable. At St. John’s Bay, 27 miles above Tadousac, the water is one mile and a half in depth, and but little less at Eternity Bay, six miles beyond. At the latter place, the wonderful capes, Trinity and Eternity, like giant sentinels guard the entrance, rising 1,500 and 1,900 feet, respectively, above the water.
Ha-Ha Bay is sixty miles above Tadousac, and is nine miles long by six wide. It has also been named Grand Bay. The first-named title is said to have come from the exclamations of delight which sprung from the lips of the navigators of the river on its discovery; and in contrast with the gloomy and forbidding aspect of the lower portions of the river, it would seem that such an outburst might be perfectly natural. The mountains around Ha-Ha Bay abound in whortleberries, or blueberries, as they are here called, and a very important industry with the natives is the gathering and shipment to market of the bountiful harvest thus kindly furnished by nature, the picking season extending from the middle of July until the falling of the snow, and the supply being inexhaustible.
Chicoutimi, a few miles beyond, is at the head of navigation, the river being obstructed above this point by rapids and falls. Lumbering is one of its important industries, the immense forests of the vicinity being as yet almost in their virgin state, and the harbor accessible to the largest vessels, thus giving it natural facilities of great value.
The fishing in the Saguenay River and its tributaries is one of the chief attractions to the sportsman. Salmon abound, and the quality of the fish taken from such deep, cold water can readily be inferred by the disciples of Walton. Game also abounds in the forests, some specimens being well worthy of the skill and nerve of the trained hunter.
A student of character will find an interesting subject in the person of the Canadian Indian, to be met in various localities in Canada. Combining with his native craft the shrewdness of a Connecticut Yankee, he will often appear in the role of a vender of curiosities, in which “taking” attitude our artist presents him.
In closing our notes on the Saguenay, we feel that but faint justice can be done to its wonderful attractions. It has been tersely described by a writer as a “region of primeval grandeur, where art has done nothing and nature everything; where, at a single bound, civilization is left behind and nature stands in unadorned majesty; where Alps on Alps arise; where, over unfathomable depths, through mountain gorges, the steamer ploughs the dark flood on which no sign of animal life appears.” A better summing up of its peculiar features, in so few words, could not be written, and the tourist who visits the scenes we have briefly described will indulge in no regrets, unless it be that want of time to do justice to the trip gives only hurried glances where hours and days might be enjoyed in realizing the sublime grandeur of the surroundings.
_Ogdensburg to Portland._
The route by the “all-rail” line from the St. Lawrence at Ogdensburg to the ocean at Portland, presents many attractions to the pleasure tourist, which we deem worthy of special mention in this connection. As an avenue of approach to the Adirondacks, Chateaugay Chasm, the Green Mountains of Vermont, and the White Mountains of New Hampshire, it offers a combination of desirable routes for summer travel. Indeed, the entire line extends through a succession of lake, river, and mountain scenery, of charming beauty and variety.
THE ADIRONDACKS are best reached by way of MALONE, a station on the Ogdensburg & Lake Champlain Railroad, about sixty miles from Ogdensburg. From here an excellent stage line takes the tourist to the Adirondack Wilderness, by way of Ayer’s, Loon Lake, Meacham Lake, and St. Regis, the latter being the location of “Paul Smith’s” famous hostelry. CHATEAUGAY, a station twelve miles east of Malone, is another gateway to the famous resort, the stages going _via_ the Chateaugay Lakes.
The “Adirondack District” is a term applied to a tract of country having for its general boundaries the St. Lawrence River on the north, Lakes Champlain and George on the east, the Mohawk River on the south, and the Black River on the west. The encroachments of civilization have so trenched upon these boundaries, that the “Wilderness,” so called, comprises only the central, unsettled and uncultivated portion of this tract, almost in its primeval state, with a border of settled country on all sides. The limits of this work forbid an extended description of this region, which as yet is only partially explored. Indeed, one of its chief delights consists in the new discoveries that the venturesome tourist may make in his search for the game which abounds in its forests, or the fish which teem in its waters.
The following, from the report of the Superintendent of the Adirondack Survey, gives a good idea of the character of some portions of this wilderness:--
“In these remote sections, tilled with rugged mountains, where unnamed waterfalls pour in snowy tresses from the dark, overhanging cliffs, the horse can find no footing, and the adventurous trapper or explorer must carry upon his back his blankets and a heavy stock of food. His rifle, which affords protection against wild beasts, at times replenishes his well-husbanded provisions, and his axe aids him in constructing from bark or bough, some temporary shelter from storm, or hews into logs the huge trees which form the fierce, roaring, comfortable fire of the camp. Yet, though the woodman may pass his lifetime in some section of the wilderness, it is still a mystery to him. * * It is a peculiar region; for though the geographical center of the wilderness may be readily and easily reached in the light, canoe-like boats of the guides, by lakes and rivers, which form a labyrinth of passages for boats, the core, or rather cores of this wilderness extend on either hand from these broad avenues of water, and, in their interior, spots remain to-day as untrodden by man, and as unknown and wild, as when the Indian paddled his birchen boat upon those streams and lakes. Amid these mountain solitudes are places where, in all probability, the foot of man never trod; and here the panther has his den among the rocks, and rears his savage kittens undisturbed, save by the growl of bear or screech of lynx, or the hoarse croak of raven taking its share of the carcass of slain deer.”
A mile and a half north of Chateaugay is the wonderful CHATEAUGAY CHASM, a newly discovered rival of the far-famed Ausable. The waters of the Chateaugay Lakes here find a passage on their way to the St. Lawrence, through a narrow gorge, walled in by sandstone cliffs, the river in one place making a descent of fifty feet in a beautiful cascade. Several of the more noticeable features of this wonderful chasm are presented in our illustrations. The “Cascade and Buttress” exhibits an appearance of constructive design, as layer upon layer of sandstone rock forms a terraced buttress, resembling some ancient ruin. “Giant Gorge” is a narrow defile, with frowning walls, having the romantic and interesting feature of a cavern, called “Vulcan’s Cave,” with an entrance in the side of the rock, sixty feet above the river, and one hundred and twenty feet below the top of the cliff. It was first explored by means of spliced ladders, but is now reached by an enclosed stairway. It is about thirty feet square, and presents an interesting study for the geologist. The cave was doubtless hollowed out of the sandstone by the action of water which trickled down through the ledge above in tiny streams, wearing away the softer stone by slow degrees, and leaving the masses of harder deposit in a variety of singular and grotesque shapes. A series of architectural pillars, supporting gothic arches or miniature dormer windows, may be seen on the one hand, and at certain angles, odd and fantastic figures, some of them half human in appearance, present themselves, while here and there a block of stone appears like the unfinished work of the sculptor.
“Spartan Pass” and “Rainbow Basin and Falls” are peculiarly interesting, the water descending to the basin over a succession of rocky steps, nearly a hundred in number, coming to a rest in the “basin,” only to dash on again, in ever-changing forms and merry cadence, in their race through the gorge, to the St. Lawrence. “Pioneer Crossing” receives its name from the fact that in early times a bridge spanned the chasm, on what was then the great highway of the wilderness. On the north side of this crossing a huge rock affords an extensive view of the gorge, from which fact it has been named Point Lookout. In other parts of the Chasm, grottoes, arches, columns, etc., afford subjects of study for the curious, and of admiration for the lovers of the odd and fantastic in nature. A fine hotel has been erected near the entrance to the chasm, from the cupola of which splendid views may be had of the scenery. Coaches connect with trains at Chateaugay.
At Rouse’s Point, the terminus of the O. & L. C. R. R., connection is made with the Delaware & Hudson Canal Co. Railroad for Lake George, Saratoga, Troy, Albany, and New York, and with the Central Vermont for St. Albans, Worcester, Providence and Boston. Continuing our journey toward Portland, we here traverse a small portion of the Central Vermont Railroad to Swanton, where connection is made with the
ST. JOHNSBURY & LAKE CHAMPLAIN RAILROAD,
The next link in the line under consideration. The route from Rouse’s Point, _via_ Lake Champlain, is exceedingly pleasant, the scenery being that of the lovely lake, and the Green Mountains of Vermont. SHELDON SPRINGS are on the line of this road, and it is also a direct route to MOUNT MANSFIELD. Both these localities have acquired no little celebrity as summer resorts.
At Morrisville, connection is made for Mount Mansfield by stage line, and such as wish to visit the locality will find an excellent stopping place at Mt. Mansfield House. The mountain is in the town of Stowe, about twenty miles northeast of Montpelier, and its height is 4,359 feet above the level of the sea.
The Green Mountains of Vermont are a portion of the great Appalachian range, extending almost continuously from near the St. Lawrence River, in Canada, through the entire length of Vermont, across the western part of Massachusetts and the middle Atlantic States, to the northern part of Alabama. The White Mountains of New Hampshire, and the Adirondacks and Catskills of New York are regarded as outlying spurs of this chain. This range is remarkable for the uniformity of outline which characterizes the different peaks, particularly of their summits, the ridges extending in the same general direction, sometimes hardly diverging from a straight line for a distance of fifty or sixty miles. Where the mountain chains are parallel, the ridges are also in parallel lines, preserving their general direction, and, to a wonderful extent, a uniformity of distance between them. When one curves round in a new direction, all curve with it.
These general peculiarities are less marked in the mountains of Vermont than in the more southerly portions of the same chain. In fact, the peculiar characteristics of the range, as a whole, are less marked at both its northern and southern extremities, the termination at either end not being well defined, as the mountains sink away and are lost in the hilly country that succeeds to them.
The Green Mountain peaks are also less bold and abrupt than those of the White Mountains, being covered mostly with verdure to their very summits, and presenting less of sharp or ragged outline in their general conformation. To many visitors, this feature is pleasing and agreeable, and a large class of summer tourists spend a portion or all of the season in the vicinity of the “beautiful hills” of the “Green Mountain State.”
At St. Johnsbury the line intersects the Passumpsic Railroad, and a description of the route from this point will be given in the following chapter, in connection with the trip from Quebec and Montreal.
The route from the West to the seaboard _via_ Montreal and Quebec, as arranged over recently completed lines of travel, naturally extends through the charming region of the celebrated White Hills of New Hampshire. From Montreal, or any point beyond, this popular resort is easy of access by several routes, all of them possessing some special attraction to invite the tourist to give them a trial. From Quebec, the tourist may return to Montreal, by boat or rail, or may proceed directly to the mountains by the QUEBEC CENTRAL RAILWAY to Sherbrooke, thence _via_ the Passumpsic Railroad to St. Johnsbury, Bethlehem and Fabyans, in the very heart of the White Mountain region.
If the trip be made by way of Montreal, the mountains may be reached _via_ the Grand Trunk, the Southeastern, or the Central Vermont. The route by the Grand Trunk, is by way of Gorham, and the eastern side of the mountains. By the Southeastern, the line is to Newport and St. Johnsbury. The Central Vermont line offers two routes; one to Montpelier, there connecting with the Montpelier & Wells River Railroad, or by way of Swanton, thence by the Portland and Ogdensburg line to St. Johnsbury, which thus seems to be made the focus of all the various lines having the same general direction, and leading to the mountain region.
At NEWPORT, reached by the Southeastern from Montreal, or the Quebec Central from Quebec, the celebrated Lake Memphremagog is the chief attraction, and the dining station is at the splendid hotel bearing the same name as the lake. It is a popular summer resort, and the steamer on the lake makes frequent trips for the accommodation of tourists. Several mountains, comprising Jay Peak, Owl’s Head, Mount Oxford, Mount Elephantis and the Willoughby Mountains are among the attractions of the vicinity.
ST. JOHNSBURY is situated on the Passumpsic River, at the intersection of the Passumpsic and St. Johnsbury & Lake Champlain Railroads; and in addition to the attractiveness of its location from a scenic point of view, it has attained much prominence as a manufacturing town, the heaviest enterprise in that direction being the production of the celebrated Fairbanks scales, known the world over for their excellence and correctness. The St. Johnsbury House and Avenue Hotel are good places of entertainment.
Eastward from St. Johnsbury the route lies over the St. Johnsbury & Lake Champlain Railroad to Lunenburg, the western terminus of the Portland division of the P. & O. line. From this point, a ride of an hour brings us into the very midst of the glorious White Hills, and in full view of the grand
PRESIDENTIAL RANGE,
Stretching before the vision in a glorious and beautiful panorama, with the peerless WASHINGTON above them all. This approach to the mountains affords the most comprehensive view of the principal range; and the Westerner, who has always been accustomed to broad expanses of prairie, with no greater elevations, perhaps, than the height of an ordinary church steeple, will be peculiarly impressed with the grandeur of the scene before him.
The first important station is BETHLEHEM JUNCTION, three miles from Bethlehem village, the “paradise of hay-fever sufferers.” This lovely hamlet enjoys the distinction of having the highest location of any town in the United States east of the Rockies and north of the Carolinas; and the remarkable purity of its atmosphere not only secures exemption from the peculiar malady which drives so many to its protection, but heightens the effect of the views to be had of the surrounding country. Owing to its commanding position, and the remarkable clearness of the atmosphere, the view of the mountains from “Bethlehem Street” is confessedly the best to be had anywhere.
The village is rendered accessible to the traveler by means of a recently constructed narrow-gauge railroad, from Bethlehem Junction to the end of the “street.” About midway on the line of this road is the magnificent hotel known as MAPLEWOOD, kept in superb style, and at its terminus is the well-known SINCLAIR HOUSE, Durgin & Fox proprietors. In addition to these palace hotels, a host of smaller ones, and a long list of boarding-houses, furnish abiding places for the multitudes who “tarry for a night,” or make this place their summer home.
Bethlehem is also the railroad connection for the famous FRANCONIA NOTCH, by means of a narrow-gauge railroad, extending into the valley and terminating near the Profile House. The attractions of this locality are sufficiently important to demand special notice by themselves; and we therefore keep straight on in our course, the next stop being at the TWIN MOUNTAIN HOUSE, so named from its proximity to the “Twin Mountains,” one of which is visible from the hotel. This house has for many years been the summer home of Henry Ward Beecher, who addresses large congregations of Sunday excursionists during the season.
Four miles further, and we stop at the WHITE MOUNTAIN HOUSE, one of the oldest of the mountain hotels, a veritable “tavern” of the earlier days, with less of style than its more pretentious neighbors, but with a large stock of good cheer and hospitable care for its guests, at moderate prices. Only a mile from the Fabyan House, the would-be guests of the latter are sometimes compelled, from an over-taxation of its immense capacities, to fall back on the resources of mine host Rounsevel, who gives them the best his house affords, and bids them “be therewith content.”
THE FABYAN HOUSE,