CHAPTER VI.

NEW BRUNSWICK.

Object of the Chapter.--Description of St. John's River.--First Falls.--Contiguous Country.--"Mars Hill."--Prospect.--Grand Falls. --The Acadians, curious Facts respecting them.--The Mirimachi River.--Immense amount of Timber shipped.--Riots.--State of Morals.--The great Mirimachi Fire.--Hurricane.--Destruction of Human Life.--Area of the Fire.--Vessels in Harbor.--Painfully disgusting Sights.--Destruction among Fish.--Fire, rapidity of Progress.--Curious instance of Escape.--Ristigouche River, its Length.--Capacious Harbor.--Appearance of the Country.--High Banks.--Groves of Pine.--A Statistical Table.

With a view to give a general outline of the immense capacities of the strip of country lying east of the St. Lawrence, between the latitudes of 42° and 44° north, I shall include (as the terminus of Maine, not regarding geographical lines) that part of the country known as the province of New Brunswick, whose lumber in quality has, in years past, quite outrivaled that of Maine.

The River St. John's, the Mississippi of the East, "has a course of nearly six hundred miles from its source, near the Chaudière, in Lower Canada, to where it falls into the Bay of Fundy. At its entrance into the harbor the river passes through a fissure of solid and overhanging rock, exhibiting every appearance of having been formed by some convulsion of nature. The volume of water collected in a course of so many hundred miles, being here compelled to pass through so narrow a passage as thirteen hundred feet, occasions what are called the Falls of St. John's, which are merely a sluice on a grand scale. At times of great floods, the appearance from the overhanging precipices is truly wonderful, and the noise tremendous, particularly on the ebb of tide. The ordinary rise of the tide above the falls is only six feet, and then only when the river is not swollen. The tide must flow twelve feet below before the river becomes passable for vessels; the time for such passage lasts about twenty minutes after the rise of tide creates a fall from below; on the returning tide the water becomes level for the same space of time, and thus only at four times in the twenty-four hours can vessels enter St. John's harbor, in which the rise of tide is from twenty-five to thirty feet. Above the falls the river widens, and forms a bay of some magnitude, surrounded by high and rugged woodland. Passing up the bay, huge calcareous rocks, and vast, dark pine forests stretch up the sides of lofty hills and promontories."

From the city of St. John's, which is contiguous to the falls, up to Fredericton (the seat of government), ninety miles distant, there is much to admire in the bays and beautiful islands which dot its limpid waters. A great portion of the land skirting its banks is alluvial, running back to beautiful ridges which swell up in the distance, and "the result is a luxuriant landscape." "For one hundred and thirty miles further the river flows through a fertile wooded country." "Sixty-three miles above Fredericton are the towns of Northampton and Woodstock. The next conspicuous place we reach is Mars Hill, about five miles and a half west of the River St. John's, and one hundred from Fredericton. This town has considerable interest attached to it from the circumstance of its being the point fixed on by the British commissioners as the commencement of the range of highlands forming the boundary of the United States. The mountain is about three miles in length, with a base upward of four miles, an elevation of two thousand feet above the sea, and twelve hundred above the source of the St. Croix. Near the summit it is almost perpendicular. As it is the highest point in its vicinity, the prospect commands a great extent of territory. Immediately beneath stretch the vast forests of which the adjacent country is composed, whose undulatory swells, 'clothed with the somber evergreen of the Fir, Spruce, Hemlock, and Pine, and the lighter green of the Beech, the Birch, and Maple, resembling, while they exceed, the stupendous waves of the ocean.' About twenty-five miles north, on the St. John's, we come to the Grand Falls, where the river passes, greatly contracted, between rugged cliffs, overhung with trees, sweeping along a descent of several feet with fearful impetuosity, until the interruption of a ridge of rocks changes the hitherto unbroken volume into one vast body of turbulent foam, which thunders over a perpendicular precipice, about fifty feet in height, into a deep vortex among huge black rocks, when the St. John's rolls out impetuously through a channel still more confined in width over a succession of falls for about a mile, the cliffs here overhanging the river so much as to conceal it."

"When the sun's rays fall upon the mists and spray perpetually rising from the cataract, a gorgeous _iris_ is seen floating in the air, waving its rich colors over the white foam, and forming a beautiful contrast with the somber rocks, covered with dark cedars and pines, which overhang the abyss."

"The St. John's is much broader above the falls than it is below; and there are but few rapids, and none of them dangerous to navigate." About thirty miles above the falls we come to the 'Madawaska settlement, the population of which is estimated at three thousand souls.' "Most of the settlers are French neutrals or Acadians, who were driven by British violence from their homes in Nova Scotia (called by the French Acadia) on the 17th of July, 1775. These people at first established themselves above Fredericton, and subsequently removed above the Grand Falls, and effected this settlement. The Acadians are a very peculiar people, remarkable for the simplicity of their manners and their fidelity to their employers. Although they are said to be 'sharp at a bargain,' they are remarkably honest, industrious, and respectful, and are polite and hospitable to each other and to strangers. It is curious to observe how perfectly they have retained all their French peculiarities. The forms of their houses, the decorations of their apartments, dress, mode of cookery, &c., are exactly such as they originally were in the land of their ancestors. They speak a kind of _patois_, or corrupted French, but perfectly understand the modern language as spoken in Paris. But few persons can be found who can understand or speak English, and these are such as, from the necessities of trade, have learned a few words of the language. None of the women or children either understand or speak English.

"The Acadians are a cheerful, contented, and happy people, social in their intercourse, and never pass each other without a kind salutation. While they thus retain all the marked characteristics of the French peasantry, it is a curious fact that they appear to know but little respecting the country from which they originated, and but few of them have the least idea of its geographical situation. Thus we were asked, when we spoke of France, if it were not separated from England by a river, or if it were near the coast of Nova Scotia; and one inquired if Bethlehem, where Christ was born, were not a town in France!! Since they have no schools, and their knowledge is but traditional, it is not surprising that they should remain thus ignorant of geography and history. I can account for their understanding the pure French language from the circumstance that they are supplied with Catholic priests from the mother country, who of course speak to them in that tongue. Those who visit Madawaska must remember that no money passes current there but silver, for the people do not know how to read, and will not take bank-notes, as they have often been imposed upon, since they are unable to distinguish a £5 from a $5 or five shilling note. As there are no regular taverns in this settlement, every family the traveler calls upon will furnish accommodations, for which they expect a reasonable compensation, and he will be always sure of kind treatment, which is beyond price. I have been thus particular to speak of the Acadian settlers of Madawaska, because little is generally known of their manners and customs, many people having the idea that they are demi-savages, because, like the aboriginal inhabitants, they live principally by hunting."[24]

[24] Dr. Jackson's Geological Reports.

There are several important tributaries to the St. John's, and among them mention may be made of the Aroostook, which, from its historical associations with the boundary question between the States and Great Britain, has become familiar to all. "This river is a broad and beautiful stream, having a gradual descent, free from obstructions, so that a raft may run to the falls at its confluence with the St. John's," a distance of over one hundred miles. "Its bottom is composed of pebbles for the principal part of its course, and there are a few low islands in its midst." The soil varies on different sections of the river as you pass down, sometimes being of a "chocolate brown" or "yellow loam," the latter being in some places covered with "a black vegetable mold several inches deep." The country around is covered with a majestic grove, composed of towering Pines, Rock-maple, and the various Birches, Spruce, Fir, &c. Where the attempt has been made, the soil is found to be exceedingly productive. Its principal products are square timber, hewn from the giant Pines found upon its borders, and sugar, produced from the sap of the Rock-maple, magnificent groves of which grow upon its banks. Beds of iron ore are found in its vicinity, and in some places limestone abounds; 'and, from indications, it is highly probable that beds of anthracite coal will, when necessity shall prompt investigation, be found in its vicinity.' In an agricultural point of view, it has been remarked, by competent judges, that "there were never greater natural advantages offered to the farmer than are to be found upon this river," and that it "will" in time "become, as it is destined by nature to be, the granary of the North."

Among the most interesting objects to be met are the Ox-bow and Aroostook Falls. The former consists of a crook in the river, which "forms a curvature of one mile, while the neck of land included between the two portions of the curve is but twenty rods across, so that it is customary for the Indians to carry their canoes over this portage." The falls occur near its junction with the St. John's. "The water is very rapid, and rushes over ledges of slate and limestone rocks for three fourths of a mile." "Then the river precipitates itself over a steep and broken ledge fifteen feet into a wide basin below." In the rocks there are "pot-holes," "five feet in diameter and four feet deep," "worn in the limestone by the grinding motion of rounded stones moved by the impetuous current."

The reader will see in the cut a picturesque view of a section of this beautiful water-fall, with its high ledges, overhung with a heavy growth of cedar-trees. The country in the vicinity of the falls "becomes more elevated, and lofty precipices of limestone and calciferous slate rise on each bank of the river, while the country in the rear is broken, hilly, and covered with an abundant mixed growth of forest trees."

We next turn our attention to the "Mirimachi," one of the principal rivers of the province, "which falls into the Gulf of St. Lawrence in 47° 10' north latitude, 64° 40' west longitude, forming at its estuary a capacious bay, with several islands, and a ship channel for vessels of seven hundred tons burden, and navigable upward of thirty miles from the sea. Chatham, Douglass, and Newcastle are the principal towns, situated on the banks of the river, about twenty-five miles from its mouth. At these settlements upward of two hundred vessels annually load with timber for Great Britain, &c. Seven miles above Chatham the Mirimachi divides into two branches, one running southwest and the other northwest. The southwest branch of the river contains more water than the River Thames from London upward. The sea-coast of Mirimachi is low, but inland the country rises in some places, consisting of extensive and rich intervales, in others of a rugged, rocky territory."

This river is particularly prominent, in the history of New Brunswick, for the astonishing amount of ton timber which was formerly procured from the territory bordering it, and as the scene of a bloody and protracted riot on the part of the Irish population, chiefly emigrants, who rose _en masse_, and attempted to drive the Americans, who had flocked there in large numbers, from the country. Desperate encounters took place from time to time between small parties, but the Americans maintained their ground against fearful odds, and after the lapse of a few months quiet and order again prevailed. But in a more particular and impressive sense will the Mirimachi be remembered as the scene of one of the "most terrible natural conflagrations of which we have any record in the history of the world." The annexed account[25] will be found deeply interesting.

[25] History of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick.

"The person who has never been out of Europe," and, we may add, out of _our_ cities and older portions of country in the States, "can have little conception of the fury and rapidity with which fires rage after a continuation of hot seasons in North America and New Holland, when the dry underwood and fallen leaves, in addition to the resinous quality of the timber, afford combustible materials in the greatest abundance. I have seen the side of a mountain thirty miles long burning in New Holland, and illumining the sky for many miles; but the following description by an eye-witness (Mr. Coony), of the great Mirimachi fire, exceeds any thing of the kind that ever occurred."

"The summer of 1825 was unusually warm in both hemispheres, particularly in America, where its effects were fatally visible in the prevalence of epidemical disorders. During July and August, extensive fires raged in different parts of Nova Scotia, especially in the eastern division of the peninsula. The protracted drought of the summer, acting upon the aridity of the forests, had rendered them more than naturally combustible; and this, facilitating both the dispersion and the progress of the fires that appeared in the early part of the season, produced an unusual warmth. On the 6th of October, the fire was evidently approaching New Castle; at different intervals fitful blazes and flashes were observed to issue from different parts of the woods, particularly up the northwest, at the rear of New Castle, in the vicinity of Douglasstown and Moorfields, and along the banks of the Bartibog. Many persons heard the crackling of falling trees and shriveled branches, while a hoarse, rumbling noise, not dissimilar to the roaring of distant thunder, and divided by pauses, like the intermittent discharges of artillery, was distinct and audible. On the 7th of October the heat increased to such a degree, and became so very oppressive, that many complained of its enervating effects. About twelve o'clock, a pale, sickly mist, lightly tinged with purple, emerged from the forest and settled over it.

"This cloud soon retreated before a large dark one, which, occupying its place, wrapped the firmament in a pall of vapor. This encumbrance retaining its position till about three o'clock, the heat became tormentingly sultry. There was not a breath of air; the atmosphere was overloaded; and irresistible lassitude seized the people. A stupefying dullness seemed to pervade every place but the woods, which now trembled, and rustled, and shook with an incessant and thrilling noise of explosions, rapidly following each other, and mingling their reports with a discordant variety of loud and boisterous sounds. At this time the whole country appeared to be encircled by a _fiery zone_, which, gradually contracting its circle by the devastation it had made, seemed as if it would not converge into a point while any thing remained to be destroyed. A little after four o'clock, an immense pillar of smoke rose, in a vertical direction, at some distance northwest of New Castle for a while, and the sky was absolutely blackened by this huge cloud; but a light northerly breeze springing up, it gradually distended, and then dissipated into a variety of shapeless mists. About an hour after, or probably at half past five, innumerable large spires of smoke, issuing from different parts of the woods, and illuminated by flames that seemed to pierce them, mounted the sky. A heavy and suffocating canopy, extending to the utmost verge of observation, and appearing more terrific by the vivid flashes and blazes that darted irregularly through it, now hung over New Castle and Douglass in threatening suspension, while showers of flaming brands, calcined leaves, ashes, and cinders seemed to scream through the growling noise that prevailed in the woods. About nine o'clock (P.M.), or shortly after, a succession of loud and appalling roars thundered through the forests. Peal after peal, crash after crash, announced the sentence of destruction. Every succeeding shock created fresh alarm; every clap came loaded with its own destructive energy. With greedy rapidity did the flames advance to the devoted scene of their ministry; nothing could impede their progress. They removed every obstacle by the desolation they occasioned, and _several hundred miles of prostrate forests_ and smitten woods marked their devastating way.

"The river, tortured into violence by the hurricane, foamed with rage, and flung its boiling spray upon the land. The thunder pealed along the vault of heaven--the lightning appeared to rend the firmament. For a moment all was still, and a deep and awful silence reigned over every thing. All nature appeared to be hushed, when suddenly a lengthened and sullen roar came booming through the forests, driving a thousand massive and devouring flames before it. Then New Castle and Douglasstown, and the whole northern side of the river, extending from Bartibog to the Naashwaak, a distance of more than one hundred miles in length, became enveloped in an immense sheet of flame, that spread over nearly _six thousand square miles_! That the stranger may form a faint idea of the desolation and misery which no pen can describe, he must picture to himself a large and rapid river, thickly settled for one hundred miles or more on both sides of it. He must also fancy four thriving towns, two on each side of this river, and then reflect that these towns and settlements were all composed of wooden houses, stores, stables, and barns; that these barns and stables were filled with crops, and that the arrival of the fall importations had stocked the warehouses and stores with spirits, powder, and a variety of combustible articles, as well as with the necessary supplies for the approaching winter. He must then remember that the cultivated or settled part of the river is but a long, narrow strip, about a quarter of a mile wide, lying between the river and almost interminable forests, stretching along the very edge of its precincts and all around it. Extending his conception, he will see the forests thickly expanding over more than six thousand square miles, and absolutely parched into tinder by the protracted heat of a long summer.

"Let him then animate the picture by scattering countless tribes of wild animals, and hundreds of domestic ones, and even thousands of men in the interior. Having done all this, he will have before him a feeble outline of the extent, features, and general circumstances of the country which, in the course of a few hours, was suddenly enveloped in fire. A more ghastly or a more revolting picture of human misery can not well be imagined.

"The whole district of cultivated land was shrouded in the agonizing memorials of some dreadful deforming havoc. The songs of gladness that formerly resounded through it were no longer heard, for the voice of misery had hushed them. Nothing broke upon the ear but the accents of distress; the eye saw nothing but ruin, and desolation, and death. New Castle, yesterday a flourishing town, full of trade and spirit, and containing nearly one thousand inhabitants, was now a heap of smoking ruins; and Douglasstown, nearly one third of its size, was reduced to the same miserable condition. Of the two hundred and sixty houses and store-houses that composed the former, but twelve remained; and of the seventy that comprised the latter, but six were left. The confusion on board of one hundred and fifty large vessels, then lying in the Mirimachi, and exposed to imminent danger, was terrible--some burned to the water's edge, others burning, and the remainder occasionally on fire.

"Dispersed groups of half-famished, half-naked, and houseless creatures, all more or less injured in their persons, many lamenting the loss of some property, or children, or relations and friends, were wandering through the country. Of the human bodies, some were seen with their bowels protruding, others with the flesh all consumed, and the blackened skeletons smoking; some with headless trunks and severed extremities; some bodies burned to cinders, others reduced to ashes; many bloated and swollen by suffocation, and several lying in the last distorted position of convulsing torture; brief and violent was their passage from life to death, and rude and melancholy was their sepulcher--'unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.' The immediate loss of life was upward of five hundred beings! Thousands of wild beasts, too, had perished in the woods, and from their putrescent carcasses issued streams of effluvium and stench that formed contagious domes over the dismantled settlements. Domestic animals of all kinds lay dead and dying in different parts of the country. Myriads of salmon, trout, bass, and other fish, which, poisoned by the alkali formed by the ashes precipitated into the river, now lay dead or floundering and gasping on the scorched shores and beaches, and the countless variety of wild fowl and reptiles shared a similar fate."

Such was the violence of the hurricane, that large bodies of ignited timber, and portions of the trunks of trees, and severed limbs, and also parts of flaming buildings, shingles, boards, &c., were hurried along through the frowning heavens with terrible velocity, outstripping the fleetest horses, spreading destruction far in the advance, thus cutting off retreat. The shrieks of the affrighted inhabitants mingling with the discordant bellowing of cattle, the neighing of horses, the howling of dogs, and the strange notes of distress and fright from other domestic animals, strangely blending with the roar of the flames and the thunder of the tornado, beggars description.

Their only means of safety was the river, to which there was a simultaneous rush, seizing whatever was buoyant, however inadequate; many attempted to effect a crossing; some succeeded; others failed, and were drowned. One woman actually seized an ox by the tail just as he plunged into the river, and was safely towed to the opposite shore. Those who were unable to make their escape across plunged into the water to their necks, and, by a constant application of water to the head while in this submerged condition, escaped the dreadful burning. In some portions of the country the cattle were nearly all destroyed. Whole crews of men, camping in the interior, and engaged in timber-making, were consumed.

Such was the awful conflagration of 1825 on the Mirimachi.

This event, of course, put a great check upon the lumbering operations of that section; but since that period, the places named, "phoenix-like, have risen from their ashes finer towns than they were before the period of that terrific conflagration." Hundreds of shipping annually load with lumber, which is exported to the mother country.

The next considerable river in this region is the Ristigouche, larger than the Mirimachi, "two hundred and twenty miles long." "The entrance to this river is about three miles wide, formed by two high promontories of red sandstone." "For eighteen miles up this river, one continuous, safe, and commodious harbor for the largest class of ships is found." "Two hundred miles from its embouchure, whither the tide flows, it is upward of a mile wide; and from thence to within forty miles of its source it is navigable for barges and canoes." "The appearance of the country" on this river "is exceedingly grand and impressive; wherever the eye wanders, nothing is to be seen but an immeasurable dispersion of gigantic hills, with an infinite number of lakes and streams, glens and valleys. Some of the mountains are clothed with the tall and beautiful Pine; others sustain a fine growth of hard-wood; many have swampy summits, and several terminate in rich meadows and plains; in form some are conical, others exhibit considerable rotundity, many lank and attenuated, and not a few of most grotesque shapes. Sometimes the precipitous banks of the river are three hundred feet above its bed. Seventy miles from the sea the country becomes comparatively level, and all the way to the head of the Ristigouche is a fine, bold, open territory, consisting of a rich upland, skirted with large tracks of intervale, and covered with a dense and unviolated growth of mixed wood, in which large groves of Pine are very conspicuous." On this river the Pine is said to be of a very superior quality.

Other rivers might be named of no ordinary interest and capacity.

The following table gives an account of the lumbering installments and products of New Brunswick, as taken from the "History of Nova Scotia, Cape Breton," &c., &c.:

Column A = Establishments for sawing, &c.

+--------------+----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ | | |Estimated | | |Number of| | | |value of | | |men | | | |all mills, |Estimated |Estimated |employed | | | |including all|quantity of|value of |in | | | |improvements:|lumber |lumber |logging, | | COUNTIES | A |viz., |sawed at |sawed and |sawing, | | | |privilege, |the mills |carried to|and | | | |site, |during the |places of |bringing | | | |sluices, |year. |shipment. |to | | | |land, dams | | |places of| | | |and piers. | | |shipment.| +--------------+----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ | | | £. | Feet. | £. | | |St. John's | 29 | 31,700 | 11,305,000| 28,262 | 320 | |King's | 30 | 14,800 | 3,905,000| 9,785 | 287 | |Gloucester | 7 | 15,500 | 2,920,000| 6,050 | 105 | |Westmoreland. | 53 | 18,530 | 8,805,000| 22,012 | 324 | |Kent | 10 | 6,950 | 2,650,000| 6,575 | 84 | |Northumberland| 15 | 44,350 | 15,600,000| 39,800 | 800 | |Sudbury | 7 | 8,500 | 4,500,000| 11,250 | 103 | |Queen's | 6 | 9,200 | 6,200,000| 15,500 | 118 | |Charlotte | 42 | 64,500 | 38,955,000| 99,475 | 1,357 | |York | 29 | 18,000 | 9,000,000| 22,500 | 300 | | +----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ | Grand Total |228 | 232,030 |103,840,000| 261,210 | 3,792 | +--------------+----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+

To this amount of manufactured lumber may be added about two hundred and fifty thousand tons of square timber; this is not far from the annual amount manufactured in this province. Four dollars per ton is about a medium price; this gives a product of $1,000,000. To this we may add, as the product of masts, staves, shingles, per annum, $20,000.[26]

[26] Having no data upon which to form an estimate of the amount of these products, we simply give this result as problematical. It probably falls short very far of the true annual value.

Grand total of the lumbering produce in dollars, reckoning four dollars to the pound:

Long lumber $1,041,840 Square timber 1,000,000 Other lumber as above 20,000 --------- $2,061,840.

THE END.