The Miramichi River in 1850: Where Have all the Salmon Gone?

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now on Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

The Miramichi River in 1850: Where Have all the Salmon Gone?

Moses H. Perley’s Three Descriptive Catalogues of the Fishes of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, Fredericton, 1852, included a section about the Miramichi watershed in 1850. In it, he described how overfishing were jeopardizing the fishery in general, and salmon in particular. The highlights of his report follow, in a much condensed and edited form.

Fishing at ‘Dam Camp,’ Miramichi River, ca. 1908

From the McCord Museum

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The principal commercial fisheries in the Miramichi and its branches are the gaspereaux, bass, and salmon, all which have diminished greatly of late years. There are, besides, great quantities of eels which are chiefly taken through the ice in winter; trout which are most abundant; and smelt, which ascend this river and its tributaries, in almost miraculous quantities.

The gaspereaux enter the Miramichi during the first week in May, and ascend to their spawning places, which are at about the head of the tide on both branches. They spawn very soon thereafter and go back out to sea in July. These gaspereaux have been so thoroughly seined at Red Bank on the North West branch that they may be said to have disappeared entirely, and this fishery was almost a total failure the past season. One of the factors in this destruction was the use of a very small-meshed nets, which also destroyed great quantities of young salmon, trout, and bass.

Great quantities of bass, some of very large size, were taken in the Miramichi, but this fishery has also nearly ceased. These fish gather in the winter in large shoals, and lie in a dull and half torpid state under the ice. A bag-net is put upon a hoop of wood, six feet in diameter, and this hoop is attached to a pole twenty feet in length. A large hole is cut through the ice and the net is put down. The net is used to sweep up the bass, which are drawn up and removed. This is repeated until all the bass are taken at that spot. The mesh of these bass-nets was formerly four inches, but the size has been diminished as the fish decreased in numbers, and now the very smallest are taken. Last winter, great quantities of small bass were thus caught in the Miramichi, by very fine nets; and it is supposed that they are now nearly exterminated.

But the most important fishery on the Miramichi is the salmon, and the rest of this report will examine it.

Salmon enter the Bay of Miramichi early in June, and are generally found in all the tributary streams before the last of that month. In the Bay and other tide waters, they move rapidly in shoals, but after reaching the fresh water they separate into small groups. During the latter part of July, in the month of August, and in the early part of September, while the water is warmest, they are to be found, from the confluence of the tide to the uppermost waters of the river and its tributaries, in quiet groups.

In the latter part of autumn, when the water becomes colder, the salmon begin to separate into pairs, male and female and, in the month of November, when the spawning takes place, they occupy small cavities formed by themselves, in the beds of the streams. At all seasons, heavy rain invariably has the effect of setting them in motion. The salmon remain a wholesome and palatable food until the middle of September and, during August and September, they are generally preferred for smoking.

The salmon fishery has long been known for its extent and value, but the fishery is now so dispersed among commercial fishermen, and people catching them for family use that it is impossible to say what quantities are taken. As a rough estimate, the whole quantity probably does not exceed one thousand barrels. This number has been falling off for a number of years, and latterly has become ruinous to many.

In the Bay, and below the head of the tide, salmon are taken partly by set-nets, which are not permitted by the laws to extend beyond a certain portion of the river and estuary; and partly by seines, and drift or sweep-nets as they are technically termed. Some of these nets are permitted only for catching herring and gaspereaux, but they sweep up salmon and grisle (small, young salmon) at the same time.

One remarkable observation may be made along the outside of Portage and Fox Islands in the Bay. At the fishing season (although contrary to law) the whole of the outside of these islands are studded with nets to the entrance of the harbour, leaving little more than the ship channel clear.

The law prescribes the length of net to be used in the Miramichi, from the Bay to the head of tide on each branch of the river, and provides that no salmon shall be taken in any manner, between the 30^th day of August and the 1^st day of April following. The Justices in Session are empowered to appoint Overseers to enforce these provisions. However, the white settlers fish the rivers in all parts unlawfully, by netting, seining, dragging, spearing, and every other way possible, up to the very heads of the streams. This unlawful fishing is continued until the close of the season, when the ice sets in. The Overseers do not perform their duty, because they are not paid and cannot afford to do it gratuitously. Neither do they prosecute for breaches of the laws. In some places, the nets overlap each other, and in sometimes even close the channel.

There is some debate as to which fishing methods are the most destructive. One witness stated that the fishing in the Bay and the lower part of the Miramichi is prosecuted too heavily; while another was of the opinion that the greatest destruction takes place from the head of the tide upward.

Fish that are illegally taken in the late fall, entirely out of season, are called black salmon which, by that time, are very thin and black, so spent as scarcely to be fit for consumption. Nonetheless, large quantities of these are brought down where they are packed together with prime fish and sent abroad thus damaging the reputation of the exporters.

There is also debate whether spearing salmon should be allowed. Spearing by torch-light is mostly carried out in the upper reaches of the Miramichi and its tributary streams, where nets are impractical, and this is prohibited by a recent law, except for Native fishermen. There had been no attempt to enforce this law, however, and one witness thought that it was unfair to people living in these regions who would thereby have no access to the fish. The majority opinion and that of the writer, M.H. Perley, was that the prohibition should remain, since these late-season salmon were on their spawning grounds and were, in any event, nearly unfit for consumption.

Acadia, 1749 to 1755 — the Final Days

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

Acadia, 1749 to 1755 — the Final Days

John Frederic Herbin wrote Grand Pré, a Sketch of the Acadian Occupation of the Shores of the Basin of Minas…, and published it in Toronto in 1898. One chapter of the book dealt with the years 1749 to 1755, and an edited version of this is repeated below. Previous chapters were reviewed earlier in this blog.

Herbin described himself as “The only descendant of the exiled people now living in the land of his forefathers,” which may account for his uncommon frankness in telling the story of these years. Nearly all that Herbin has to say can be confirmed from Selections from the Public Documents of the Province of Nova Scotia and in the Collections of the Nova Scotia Historical Society. I have no argument with Herbin’s descriptions of those days, harsh as they are. It was fashionable in those days for British and colonial commanders to regret the duty which they had had to perform, which rings very hollow today.

Grand Pré

From Tourism Nova Scotia

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

In 1749 there were probably 10,000 Acadians in the Province, living in Annapolis, at Minas, Piziquid, at Cobequid, and at Beaubassin. To anticipate the deportation, it may be stated here that there were about 6,000 persons removed in 1755, two-thirds of these from Minas and Piziquid. Of the 1,000 who escaped into the woods, many were afterwards taken and sent out of the Peninsula. About 3,000 had made their way into the country to the north.

During the few years preceding the expulsion, since the Acadians had increased so rapidly in numbers there was frequent mention of them in Government documents. The English Government on numerous occasions urged the necessity of just treatment of the French Acadians, recommending such acts as should eventually make the people wholly in sympathy with the local rulers. They were to be assured that no effort would be put forth to remove them from the Province. They were to be left in quiet possession of their property, and to enjoy the free exercise of their religion.

In 1749, Halifax was founded and became the seat of Government, with Edward Cornwallis as Governor. Between Halifax and Minas there was only a trail, but in a few days Jean Melanson from Canard, and Claude Le Blanc from Grand-Pré, presented the respects of their people to Cornwallis. They then learned that a proclamation to the Acadians had been drawn up, and they were ordered to make it public in their districts. By this document they were called upon to take the Oath of Allegiance without restriction, and within fifteen days. At the time appointed, deputies from all the French districts, representing over 10,000 people, appeared before Cornwallis. They were respectful, yet determined to the point of obstinacy in their requests. Cornwallis informed them that no exemption would be allowed in taking the oath, and that all the people would have to swear allegiance by the 26^th of October, or forfeit all their rights and possessions in the Province. They returned with the reply in a few weeks, with a paper signed by a thousand inhabitants. This referred to the oath they had already taken, and of the privileges they had enjoyed under other Governors, and of the reliance they had placed in His Majesty, having rendered service without a wish or attempt to violate the oath. It spoke of the danger they were in from the Indians. They would take the old oath as given to Governor Philipps previously and, if this was not satisfactory then they were resolved to leave the country.

Cornwallis was in error in his estimate of the Acadians. Finding that they could not be moved as he desired, he became haughty and harsh, and indulged in threats which he did not carry out. “It is only out of pity to your inexperience that we condescend to reason with you, otherwise the question would not be reasoning but commanding and being obeyed.” He then wrote to the Lords of Trade, stating what had transpired, and his purpose to make the Acadians as useful as possible while they stayed. At the same time he placed every obstacle in the way of their leaving the Province.

The French at this time were building a fort at Beausejour, and every effort was made through Abbé le Loutre, a missionary Priest, to get the Acadians over to the territory that was claimed by the French. The Acadian centres were in a state of agitation and excitement. The people were in serious doubt as to what would be the next move taken by Cornwallis. As Cornwallis was too much taken up with affairs at Halifax to move against Beausejour, the efforts of the French led a number of the Acadians to act against the English, with the Indians. It was now late in the year for a general departure, yet some Acadian families joined with the French. To check this, an English force was sent to Minas under Captain Handfield. As it was too late in the season to build barracks they enclosed three houses in picketing,with half bastions. The situation was low and flat, commanded by a hill, and so exposed that in the deep snow of winter it was often possible to walk over the palisades. A blockhouse had been taken from Annapolis and erected within the enclosure. This fort became known as Vieux Logis (the old house). Handfield had under his command three subalterns and a hundred men. The people assisted the soldiers, and supplied provisions. They also aided the poorer settlers in building their houses in Halifax, and cleared a road to that place from Minas, eighteen feet wide.

Minas was now under military guard, to which it submitted quietly. I cannot do better than quote from an article by a Canadian writer:

“For forty years after the Treaty of Utrecht they increased and prospered, and had England treated them from the commencement with fairness, and kept in the Province sufficient force to show them she was not to be trifled with, and there was no prospect of France regaining her old dominions by the sea, they might have been gradually won from their fidelity to the land of their origin, and taught to pay willing allegiance to their new masters, who, under all circumstances, had treated them with great consideration and at the same time with obvious weakness. Had they been allowed to remain in the country, under the checks of a sufficient military force and populous English settlements, the ten thousand Acadian French that occupied the fertile districts of the Province in the middle of the last century would eventually have increased to a very large number, and exercised a most important influence on the social, religious and political conditions of Nova Scotia, even while remaining loyal to England. In other words, Nova Scotia might have been another French Canada.”

In October of this year, three hundred Micmacs and Saint John Indians, instigated by the French, blockaded the fort at Minas, for the purpose of giving the Acadians an opportunity to leave the country, and take off their cattle and property. Finding the people fixed in their resolve to wait till they should learn from the Governor what was to be done with them, the Indians departed. They had surprised a detachment under Captain Hamilton, consisting of eighteen men, and with these prisoners, and the notary Le Blanc, they left the country. No one had been killed by the engagement, and the prisoners were released some time later.

In 1750, the English had firm control of the French centres of the Province. Another fort had been built at Piziquid which, with the garrisons at Minas and Annapolis, protected the Acadians and kept them in touch with Halifax. Cornwallis was still demanding of the Acadians to take the oath, and they never ceased to plead for permission to leave the country with their property. It is needless to dwell on the particulars of the administration of Cornwallis. Cause after cause was assigned why the Acadians should not leave the Province.

When Hopson succeeded Cornwallis the Acadians were raising great crops, much more than they required for their own use. The fort, Vieux Logis, had fallen into decay, and it was not deemed advisable to repair it. In consequence of this, the garrison was sent to Fort Edward, at Piziquid. Hopson, more humane than Cornwallis, saw how difficult it would be to force the people to take the oath, which had been the cause of so much trouble. He knew how valuable the people were to the country. He was able in a short time to make a treaty with the Indians of the east coast, and would have done much to soften the condition of the Acadians, if ill health had not compelled him to retire from the position fifteen months after he became Governor. The Acadians had passed through the period of excitement and agitation caused by the founding of a large English town in the Province. The following order from the Governor gives us a good idea of the condition of affairs at this time. For a time, at least, they were not to be treated like slaves:

“You are to look upon the Acadians in the same light with the rest of His Majesty’s subjects, as to the protection of the laws and Government, for which reason nothing is to be taken from them by force, or any price set upon their goods but what they themselves agree to; and, if at any time they should obstinately refuse to comply with what His Majesty’s service may require of them, you are not to redress yourself by military force, or in any unlawful manner, but to lay the case before the Governor and wait his orders thereon. You are to cause the following orders to be stuck up in the most public part of the fort, both in English and French:

“1^st. The provisions or any other commodities that the Acadians shall bring to the fort to sell, are not to be taken from them at any fixed price, but to be paid for according to a free agreement made between them and the purchasers.

2^nd. No officer, non-commissioned officer or soldier shall presume to insult or otherwise abuse any of the Acadians, who are upon all occasions to be treated as His Majesty’s subjects, and to whom the laws of the country are open, to protect as well as to punish. …”

It is refreshing to read this after the heartless and haughty manner of the earlier Governors. What might not a few years of firm and kindly government have done with these unfortunate people? It was not to be. Hopson sailed for England after his short rule.

The last, the most famous, the most infamous, of all the Governors of Nova Scotia is now before us, who is to introduce the last act in the Acadian drama. This is Charles Lawrence, the man who will ever be remembered for his connection with the deportation of the Acadians. He was a soldier, bold and active, keen and intelligent, but ambitious and unscrupulous to the highest degree. His antecedents were humble, but being endowed with more than ordinary ability, without the restraints of a refined or noble nature, he gave way, when opportunity offered for high purpose and manly action, to the baser and more sordid impulses which seem to have ruled his life. He was, moreover, haughty and disdainful in manner. Without real friends, his acts received support from his agents and from those who were unable to resist him. Of low cunning, a consummate flatterer of the higher, an oppressor of the weak, with false promises and every effort to accomplish his own personal ends, Lawrence has the unenviable distinction of having caused the expatriation of the Acadians, and of having done it with great cruelty. These facts have come to light only within a few years, through the researches of French writers. Many State documents relating to the administration of Lawrence have been lost, or, as it is now believed, intentionally destroyed.

The Acadians had been threatened with various forms of punishment by almost all the Governors, and had learned the lesson of humility and patience, all to no purpose. In the light of later facts thrown upon their condition, it is almost beyond belief that a people should be so patient and quietly persevering in their effort to remain upon their lands under all the imposition practised upon them. If individuals acted against the peace of the country, a most cruel persecution followed the whole people, thinly disguised under various pretexts. The treatment accorded the people had become a matter of practice long established. Unfortunately for them, they were found too submissive. Their homes were their all, and they bore insult and indignity for forty years in the vain hope that a time would come when they would be finally secure on the lands their fathers had taken from the sea, and made beautiful and rich beyond any other in America. Every act of obedience to governmental order and demand seemed to leave them more at the mercy of men who, from national prejudice or lack of human feeling, preyed upon their weakness, and for many years left them in the power of whim and circumstance. Every argument has been made in our own day to influence opinion against these people, and to excuse or palliate the brutalities of men because of their connection with the British Government.

Lawrence had only been provisional Governor till 1745. The scheme of the deportation of the Acadians had been maturing in his mind; but now, his purpose took more definite shape. Many documents and reports show a fixed resolve on his part to get rid of the Acadians. Complaints were frequent, and every possible reason assigned to show that it was necessary to remove the people. The acts of individuals were charged to the whole people. What was done at Beaubassin was punished at Minas, for example. It must be here understood that when finally the people were taken from their homes, it was done without the sanction of the English Government, and was so carried out because of the length of time required to carry messages between England and the Province; and that orders forbidding this action were received too late to prevent it.

Hopson’s humane orders were revoked: “If they should fail to comply, you will assure them that the next courier will bring an order for military execution;” and also, “No excuse will be taken for not fetching firewood, and if they do not do it in proper time the soldiers shall take their houses for fuel.” Such were the brutal orders of Lawrence.

The English were now in position to control the Acadian centres of Nova Scotia. The French fort at Beausejour had fallen, a few hundred Acadians who had through persuasions and threats assisted the French with their presence, but when fighting began, refused to assist their countrymen. The failure of the Acadians to assist the French was assigned as the cause of their defeat. There was now no ground for fear. The Acadians proved themselves poor soldiers. Their only desire was to be left unmolested on their lands.

On the 6^th of June, one hundred men from Fort Edward, Windsor, and fifty from the garrison at Halifax, came to Minas. The party reached Grand Pré in the evening and distributed themselves two in a house. At midnight they seized all the arms and ammunition they could find. This was accomplished without resistance. The soldiers met at Grand Pré in the morning and placed the arms on board a boat which had been sent for the purpose, and they were carried away. The real purpose had not been made known until the outrage was committed, not because of fear of the Acadians, but that as many of their arms as possible should be secured. Yet only about one-fifth of the whole number was found. Shortly after this an order was issued demanding of the Acadians the surrender of all their arms, under penalty of being treated as rebels. The result was that about 2,900 were given up. The people then addressed a petition to Lawrence showing in what position they stood:

“We, the inhabitants of Mines, Piziquid and the River Canard, take the liberty of approaching Your Excellency for the purpose of testifying our sense of the care which the Government exercises over us.

“It appears, sir, that Your Excellency doubts the sincerity with which we have promised to be faithful to His Britannic Majesty.

“We most humbly beg Your Excellency to consider our past conduct. You will see that, very far from violating the oath we have taken, we have maintained it in its entirety, in spite of the solicitations and the dreadful threats of another power. We will entertain, sir, the same pure and sincere disposition to prove under any circumstances, our unshaken fidelity to His Majesty, provided that His Majesty shall allow us the same liberty that he has granted us. We earnestly beg Your Excellency to have the goodness to inform us of His Majesty’s intentions on this subject, and to give us assurances on his part.

“Permit us, if you please, sir, to make known the annoying circumstances in which we are placed, to the prejudice of the tranquility we ought to enjoy. Under pretext that we are transporting our corn or other provisions to Beausejour and the River St. John, we are no longer permitted to carry the least quantity of corn by water from one place to another. We beg Your Excellency to be assured that we have never transported provisions to Beausejour or to River St. John. If some refugee inhabitants from Beausejour have been seized with cattle, we are not on that account by any means guilty, inasmuch as the cattle belonged to them as private individuals, and they were driving them to their respective habitations. As to ourselves, sir, we have never offended in that respect; consequently, we ought not, in our opinion, to be punished; on the contrary, we hope that Your Excellency will be pleased to restore to us the same liberty that we enjoyed formerly, in giving us the use of our canoes, either to transport our provisions from one river to another, or for the purpose of fishing; thereby providing for our livelihood. This permission has never been taken from us except at the present time. We hope, sir, that you will be pleased to restore it, specially in consideration of the number of poor inhabitants who would be very glad to support their families with the fish that they would be able to catch. Moreover, our guns, which we regard as our own personal property, have been taken from us, notwithstanding the fact that they are absolutely necessary to us, to defend our cattle which are attacked by the wild beasts, or for the protection of our children and ourselves. Any inhabitant who may have his oxen in the woods, and who may need them for purposes of labor, would not dare expose himself in going for them without being prepared to defend himself. It is certain, sir, that since the Indians have ceased frequenting our parts, the wild beasts have greatly increased, and that our cattle are devoured by them almost every day. Besides, the arms that have been taken from us are but a feeble guarantee of our fidelity. It is not the gun which an inhabitant possesses that will induce him to revolt, nor the privation of the same gun that will make him more faithful; but his conscience alone must induce him to maintain his oath. An order has appeared in Your Excellency’s name, given at Fort Edward, June 4^th, 1755, by which we are commanded to carry guns, pistols, etc., etc., to Fort Edward. It appears to us, sir, that it would be dangerous for us to execute that order before representing to you the danger to which this order exposes us. The Indians may come and threaten and plunder us, reproaching us for having furnished arms to kill them. We hope, sir, that you will be pleased, on the contrary, to order that those taken from us be restored to us. By so doing you will afford us the means of preserving both ourselves and our cattle.

“In the last place we are grieved, sir, at seeing ourselves declared guilty without being aware of having disobeyed. One of our inhabitants of the River Canard, named Pierre Melanson, was seized and arrested in charge of his boat, before having heard any order forbidding that sort of transport. We beg Your Excellency, on this subject, to have the goodness to make known to us your good pleasure before confiscating our property and considering us in fault. This is the favor we expect from Your Excellency‘s kindness, and we hope you will do us the justice to believe that very far from violating our promises, we will maintain them, assuring you that we are, very respectfully,

“Sir, your very humble and obedient servants.”

Hearing that the Governor looked upon the petition as impertinent, they drew up another on June 24^th, 1755, disclaiming any intention of being without proper respect for the Government, and that they all shared the same intentions and feelings in the matter. They acknowledged being embarrassed in his presence and begged to be excused for their timidity, and if anything seemed hard in their petition, they asked permission to explain their intention. This was signed by forty-four inhabitants in the name of Minas, Canard and Piziquid.

As might be expected, the answer given shows the Governor’s intention to find offence in everything the Acadians represented to him. “The memorial of the 10^th of June is highly arrogant and insidious, and deserves the highest resentment.”

In view of the charges that have been made against them, let us review the situation a moment. The people had been accused of aiding the Indians, when, in point of fact, the Micmacs had left the Province and were in New Brunswick. The Indians had been for some time a menace and a danger to them, and they were glad to be separated from them. At the building of Vieux Logis, at Grand Pré, the Acadians had been harassed by them because of their seeming sympathy with the English, and because they had not endeavored to prevent it. The Acadians had repeatedly, moreover, given valuable intelligence to the British. They had warned Noble previous to the attack of Grand Pré. But few of the Minas people had gone over to the French; and these, with the Acadians of other parts of the Province who had taken up arms, were compelled to do so against their own wishes, under penalty of death. For forty years they had been refused titles to their land, and the privilege of taking up new land, or of extending their own. They had always been thrifty and industrious, performing great labor in dyke-building, and in setting out orchards which, after one hundred and forty-three years, are yet bearing fruit. Their lands in most cases had been divided and subdivided among the children. Yet they produced more than was needed for the whole Province. They had two beautiful churches and an abundance of goods.

We now return to the delegates who were in Halifax. Lawrence requested them to take the oath. They begged to be allowed to consult with their people again. Lawrence refused this, giving them twenty-four hours to decide. Their answer given next day was that they could not do so without meeting with their own people to determine for, or against, the oath. This refusal caused them to be treated as prisoners.

Instructions were at once sent to Murray, at Piziquid, to demand of the Acadians of Minas new delegates, and if the oath was not taken, the Government would set about to remove them from the Province. It appears certain that Lawrence projected the deportation early in 1755, and had carefully worked out the details of the scheme. All the arms of the Acadians were in the hands of the Government, without which they could make but little resistance. Their priests and archives were carried off. He had concealed his purpose from the English Government till too late for their intervention. Boscowan, in command of the fleet which had supported the movement against the French at Beausejour, had been induced to favor the scheme, as well as the Council at Halifax. In intimating to the Lords of Trade that he purposed demanding of the Acadians an unqualified oath of allegiance, and if they refused it, stating he intended to send them out of the country to France, he was plainly deceiving the Lords of Trade. Meanwhile, three months would be necessary to receive an answer from England.

On July 5^th, one hundred delegates appeared before Lawrence, in obedience to his demand, and delivered their petitions. Those of Grand Pré and vicinity in their petition, signed by two hundred and three, referred to the oath taken by them in Philipps’ time, and of their intention not to take any other. “Charity for our detained inhabitants, and their innocence, oblige us to beg Your Excellency to be touched by our miseries, and to restore to them their liberty, with all possible submission and the most profound respect.”

The deputies were imprisoned, with those already confined, and kept so till late in the year when the whole people were deported. The following statement of events by Abbé Daudin will be read with interest:

“For a long time the English never spoke to the Acadians except to announce their ruin in the near future. They were told that they would be mere slaves, that they would be dispersed by the Irish; in short, everything foreboded the destruction of their nation; there was talk of nothing else but burning the houses and laying waste the fields. However, the inhabitants were not discouraged, as is proved by the most abundant harvest that was ever seen in the country. Prayer was the only weapon they used against the English. After the taking of Beausejour, they made a show of commanding the inhabitants on holidays to go to the fort and sharpen all their instruments of war, telling them these weapons were to destroy them after they had cut to pieces their brethren who were refugees with the French.

“When the Grand Pré delegates had started for Halifax, there came to Annapolis an order, etc., etc.

“When the delegates from all parts had arrived to the number of about one hundred, they were called before the Council, when they were immediately told that no propositions or explanations would be received from them . . . He put the following very plain question to them: ‘Will you or will you not swear to the King of Great Britain that you will take up arms against the King of France, his enemy?’ The answer was not less laconic than the question. ‘Since,’ they said, ‘we are asked only for a yes or no, we will answer unanimously. No;’ adding, however, that what was required of them tended to despoil them of their religion and everything else.

“Immediately the Governor gave orders to transport them on a small island, distant as far as a cannon-ball would carry from Halifax, whither they were conducted like criminals, and where they remained until the end of October, fed on a little bread, deprived of receiving any assistance as well as of speaking to anyone.

“The Governor imagined that this harshness would soften their courage; he found them as firm as ever. He took the resolution of betaking himself to the aforesaid island with a numerous retinue, accompanied by all the instruments of torture, in order to try to soften their courage at the sight of this spectacle. In the midst of this display befitting a tyrant, he asked them if they persisted in their answers. One of them replied, ‘Yes, and more than ever; we have God for us and that is enough.’ The Governor drew his sword and said: ‘Insolent fellow, you deserve that I should run my sword through your body.’ The peasant presented his breast to him, and, drawing nearer, said: ‘Strike, sir, if you dare; I shall be the first martyr of the band; you can kill my body, but you shall not kill my soul.’ The Governor, in a sort of frenzy, asked the others if they shared the feelings of that insolent fellow who had just spoken. All with one voice exclaimed: ‘Yes, sir! Yes, sir! . . .’”

“After carrying off the priests, the English raised their flag above the churches and made the latter into barracks when their troops passed there. The missionaries reached Halifax with this fine accompaniment, drums beating. They were led out on the parade, where they were exposed for three-quarters of an hour to mockery, contempt and insults.”

It was evidently the desire of Lawrence that the Acadians should not take the oath. He acted promptly. Everything was ripe for the undertaking. New England troops were in the country, having assisted in the capture of Beausejour. In a letter to the commandant, Moncton, he informed him that the French of that place were to be removed at once, as soon as transports, which had been ordered, should come up the Bay. Very full particulars were given as to the removal of the people and the seizure of property and cattle. Not the slightest trace of pity or compunction is apparent in the orders he issued to the officers in command at the different centres. If the people had been animals or wild beasts, and likely to escape in spite of his vigilance, he could not have been more merciless in working out the soulless scheme of the deportation. He gave positive orders again and again to secure the cattle of the people. In herding the people together to prevent any from escaping, the utmost effort was to be made.

Colonel Winslow, who was at Beausejour, received orders to embark with his regiment, consisting of three hundred men, and to sail for Grand Pré. He arrived at Minas on the 15^th of August, whence he proceeded to Windsor to consult with Murray, in command at Fort Edward, as to the details of the work they were about to perform.

Winslow in his journal has given us a full account of his stay at Grand Pré. All too thoroughly was the work carried out.

A Leisurely Steamboat Trip from Saint John to Fredericton in 1888

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now on Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

A Leisurely Steamboat Trip from Saint John to Fredericton in 1888

The following is condensed and edited from James M. Mulhall’s Tourists’ Guide to Saint John and the Province of New Brunswick, published in Saint John by the Canadian Railway News Co. in 1888. This description of the countryside as seen from a steamboat is much more detailed and leisurely than many others.

The Steamer May Queen, on the Saint John River
By Isaac Erb & Son in about 1904, from the N.B. Museum via the McCord Museum

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The scenery of the St. John River is pretty, and has a pleasing pastoral quietness. The elements of the landscapes are simple; the settlements are few and small, and at no time will the traveller find his attention violently drawn to any passing object. There are beautiful views on the Long Reach, at Belleisle Bay, and during the approach to Fredericton, but the prevalent character of the scenery is that of quiet and restful rural lands, by which it is pleasant to drift on a balmy summer day. If the traveller would enjoy a tranquilizing and luxurious journey through a pretty farming country, abounding in mild diversity of scenery, he should devote a day to this river. An early explorer recalled that “the extent of this river, the fish with which it was filled, the grapes growing on its banks, and the beauty of its scenery, were all objects of wonder and admiration.”

The St. John is the chief river of the Maritime Provinces, and is over 450 miles in length, being navigable for steamers of 1,000 tons for 90 mines, for light draught steamers 270 miles (with a break at the Grand Falls), and for canoes for nearly its entire extent. It takes its rise in the great Maine forest, near the sources of the Penobscot and the Chaudiere. Flowing to the northeast for over 150 miles through the Maine forest, it receives the Allagash, St. Francis, and other large streams; and from the mouth of the St. Francis nearly to the Grand Falls, a distance of 75 miles, it forms the frontier between the United States and Canada. It is the chief member in that great system of rivers and lakes which has won for New Brunswick the distinction of being “the most finely watered country in the world.” At Madawaska the course changes from northeast to southeast, and the sparsely settled northwest counties of the Province are traversed, with large tributaries coming in on either side During the last fifty miles of its course it receives the waters of the great basins of the Grand and Washademoak Lakes and the Belleisle and Kennebecasis Bays, which afford good facilities for inland navigation. The tributary streams are connected with those of the Gulf and of the Bay of Chaleur by short portages.

Immediately after leaving the dock at St. John, a fine retrospect is given of the dark chasm below, over which is the light and graceful Suspension Bridge. Running up by Point Pleasant, the boat ascends a narrow gorge with high and abrupt banks, at whose bases are large lumber mills. On the right is Boar’s Head, a picturesque rocky promontory, in whose sides are quarries of limestone; three to four miles above Indiantown the broad expanse of Grand Bay is entered, and South Bay is seen opening on the left.

The Kennebecasis Bay is now seen, opening to the northeast. This noble sheet of water is from one to four miles wide, and is navigable for large vessels for over twenty miles. It receives the Kennebecasis and Hammond Rivers, and contains several islands, the chief of which, Long Island, is five miles long and is opposite the village of Rothesay. The eastern shore is followed for many miles by the track of the Intercolonial Railway.

The testimony of the rocks causes scientists to believe that the St. John formerly emptied by two mouths — through the Kennebecasis and the Marsh Valley, and through South Bay into Manawagonish Bay — and that the breaking down of the present channel through the lofty hills west of St. John is an event quite recent in geological history. The Native people still preserve a tradition that this barrier of hills was once unbroken, and served to divert the stream.

Occasional glimpses of the railway are obtained on the left, and on the right is the large island of Kennebecasis, which is separated from the Kingston Peninsula by the Milkish Channel. Then the shores of Land’s End are passed on the right; and on the left is the estuary of the Nerepis River. At this point the low but rocky and alpine ridges of the Nerepis Hills cross the river, running northeast to Bull Moose Hill, near the head of Belleisle Bay.

The steamer now changes her course from northwest to northeast and enters the Long Reach, a broad and straight expanse of the river, sixteen miles long and one to three miles wide. The shores are high and bold, and the scenery has a lake-like character. Beyond the hamlets of Westfield and Greenwich Hill on the left bank, is the rugged and forest-covered ridge known as the Devil’s Back, an off-spur of the minor Alleghany chain over the Nerepis Valley. Abreast of the wooded Foster’s Island, on the east shore, is a small hamlet clustered about a tall-spired church. Caton’s Island is just above Foster’s, and on the west shore is seen the pretty little village of Oak Point, with a lighthouse and the spire of the Episcopal Church of St. Paul. Farther up is the insulated intervale of Grassy Island, famous for its rich hay, which may be seen in autumn stacked all along the shore. The steamer now passes through the contracted channel off Mistaken Point, where the river is nearly closed by two narrow peninsulas which project towards each other from the opposite shores.

Belleisle Bay turns to the northeast just above Mistaken Point. The estuary is nearly hidden by a low island and by a rounded promontory on the right, beyond which the bay extends to the northeast for twelve to fourteen miles, with a uniform width of one mile. It is navigable for the largest vessels, and is bordered by wooded hills. On the south shore, near the mouth, is Kingston Creek, which leads south in about five miles to Kingston, a sequestered village of 200 inhabitants, is romantically situated among the hills in the centre of the peninsular Parish of Kingston. This peninsula preserves an almost uniform width of four to five miles for thirty miles, between the Kennebecasis Bay and river on the southeast, and the Long Reach and Belleisle Bay on the northwest. The scenery, though never on a grand scale, is pleasant and bold, and has many fine water views. A few miles east of Kingston is the remarkable lakelet called the Pickwaakeet, occupying an extinct crater and surrounded by volcanic rocks. This district was originally settled by American Loyalists, and for many years Kingston was the capital of Kings County. The village is most easily reached from Rothesay.

Tennant’s Cove is a small Baptist village at the north of the entrance to the bay, whence a road leads in five miles to the hamlet of Belleisle Bay on the north shore, nearly opposite Long’s Point village; from which the bay road runs in three to four miles to the larger Baptist settlement at Spragg’s Point, whence much cord-wood is sent to St. John. Four miles beyond is Springfield, the largest of the Belleisle villages, situated near the head of the bay, and seven miles from Norton, on the Intercolonial Railway.

At the head of the Long Reach a granite ridge turns the river to the north and northwest, and narrows it for several miles. Four to five miles above Belleisle Bay, Spoon Island is passed, above which, on the right bank, is the shipbuilding hamlet of Wickham. A short distance beyond, on the west bank, is Hampstead, with several mills and a granite quarry. The shores of the river now become more low and level, and the fertile meadows of Long Island are coasted for nearly five miles. This pretty island is dotted with elm trees, and contains two large ponds. On the mainland is the hamlet of Otnabog, at the mouth of a river which empties into a lake three miles long and one or two miles wide, connected with the St. John by a narrow passage. The boat next passes the Lower Musquash Island, containing a large pond, and hiding the outlet of the Washademoak Lake.

“This part of the Province, including the lands around the Grand Lake and along the Washademoak, must become a very populous and rich country. A great proportion of the land is intervale or alluvial, and coal is found in great plenty near the Grand Lake. … No part of America can exhibit greater beauty or more luxuriant fertility than the lands on each side, and the islands that we pass in this distance.” — McGregor’s British America.

After passing the Upper Musquash Island, the steamboat rounds in at Gagetown, a village of 300 inhabitants, prettily situated on the west bank of the river. It is the shire town of Queen’s County, and is the shipping point for a broad tract of farming country. After leaving this point the steamer passes between Grimross Neck on the left and the level shores of Cambridge on the right, and runs by the mouth of the Jemseg River.

The Jemseg River is the outlet of Grand Lake. Beyond this point the steamer runs northwest by Grimross Island, and soon passes the hamlets of Canning on the right and Upper Gagetown on the left. Above Mauger’s Island is seen the tall spire of Burton church, and the boat calls at Sheffield.

“The whole river-front of the parishes of Maugerville, Sheffield, and Waterborough, an extent of nearly 30 miles, is a remarkably fine alluvial soil, exactly resembling that of Battersea fields and the Twickenham meadows, stretching from the river generally about two miles. This tract of intervale, including the three noble islands opposite, is deservedly called the Garden of New Brunswick, and it is by far the most considerable tract of alluvial soil, formed by fresh water, in the Province.”

Above Sheffield the steamer passes Middle Island, which is three miles long, and produces much hay, and calls at Maugerville, a quiet lowland village of 300 inhabitants. On the opposite shore is Oromocto, the capital of Sunbury County, a village of 400 inhabitants. It is at the mouth of the Oromocto River, which is navigable for twenty-two miles.

The settlement of Maugerville was the first which was formed by the English on the St. John River, and was established in 1763 by families from Massachusetts and Connecticut. Oromocto was in early days a favorite resort of the Maliseet, one of whose great cemeteries has recently been found there.

“The rich meadows are decorated with stately elms and forest trees, or sheltered by low coppices of cranberry, alder, and other native bushes. Through the numerous openings in the shrubbery, the visitor, in traversing the river, sees the white fronts of the cottages, and other buildings; and, from the constant change of position, in sailing, an almost endless variety of scenery is presented to the traveller’s eye. During the summer season the surface of the water affords an interesting spectacle. Vast rafts of timber and logs are slowly moved downwards by the current. On them is sometimes seen the shanty of the lumberman, with his family, a cow, and occasionally a haystack, all destined for the city below. Numerous canoes and boats are in motion, while the paddles of the steamboat break the polished surface of the stream and send it rippling to the shore. In the midst of this landscape stands Fredericton, situated on an obtuse level point formed by the bending of the river, and in the midst of natural and cultivated scenery.” — Gesner.

The Rise and Fall of Fort Louisburg

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

The Rise and Fall of Fort Louisburg

This description of the building and eventual destruction of the fort at Louisbourg is based upon Charles William Vernon’s Cape Breton, Canada, Toronto, 1903.

Disclosure: This is not what I would call a ‘condensed’ version of Vernon’s work. In fact, the information, and the structure of the article, and many of the words come directly from him. The following account is less than half the length of the original work which is available on line, and which is recommended for anyone who wants further information.

Louisbourg: General View Showing Defensive Wall and Cannons.
From Parks Canada

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The Building of Fort Louisburg

Negotiations between England and France, culminating in the Peace of Utrecht, gave particular attention to Cape Breton. Joint ownership of the Island was even suggested at one point but, in the end, Acadia and Newfoundland went to Britain, while Cape Breton was retained by France. France also got the right to fortify the island. This agreement was signed in 1713.

England had thus extended its holdings in North America, and controlled the entire Atlantic coast with the exception of Cape Breton. France, on the other hand, controlled ‘Canada,’ i.e. Quebec, and definitely needed Cape Breton as a place of refuge from Atlantic storms and as a naval base from which to protect the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. Fortification of Cape Breton therefore became a priority.

Three locations were considered for such a fortress: Baie des Espagnols (Sydney), St. Ann’s and Havre à l’Anglois. Havre à l’Anglois was more defensible than Baie des Espagnols, and also had the advantage over St. Ann’s of being ice-free. Havre à l’Anglois was therefore chosen and renamed Louisburg. Cape Breton as a whole was also renamed, and became Ile Royale.

A number of French civilians migrated from Newfoundland to Ile Royale and settled mostly in Louisburg, but also in other small places. The Acadians and the Mi’kmaq were encouraged to relocate there also, but were reluctant to do so. The Acadians nonetheless maintained a strong emotional connection to the people of Ile Royale and accepted as a simple matter of fact that that Governor was the only authority existing in the earliest of days. There was also an active trade in agricultural goods and livestock between Acadia (now Nova Scotia) and Ile Royale. The infant British colony of Nova Scotia was unhappy with this trading and with the Acadians’ divided loyalty, but found it difficult to police the situation.

The building of Fort Louisburg was begun in 1720, and continued for more than twenty years, by which time it was still not quite complete. There were soldiers and tradesmen of all descriptions, and the population grew to 4,000 by the time the War of the Spanish Succession recommenced in 1744. A battery was built at the harbour mouth, and one of the three islands in front of the fort was also fortified. A wharf was also provided for the repair of war ships. Smaller forts were built at St. Peter’s and St. Ann’s.

The town occupied about a hundred acres, and was protected against attach by surrounding marsh lands. There were thousands of feet of masonry walls of native stone, while the major buildings were of brick brought from France. Fishing was the main industry, and the produce of this was sent to France. Rum, sugar, tobacco and coffee were imported from the West Indies and re-sold to New Englanders in return for other products. None of this was profitable enough to raise the population out of poverty.

The First Siege of Louisburg

So far, Cape Breton was confirmed as belonging to France in 1713, and became Ile Royale. The construction of the fort at Louisburg was then begun in 1720, and continued up to 1744 when the issues surrounding the Austrian Succession again brought England and France to a state of war. Meanwhile, the infant English government in Nova Scotia was under-protected, living mostly at peace with the Acadians who nonetheless refused to sign an Oath of Allegiance.

When war broke out in Europe in 1744, the Governor of Ile Royale did not delay in attacking Canso, which quickly fell, being only a lonely outpost with a blockhouse and a few settlers’ homes. He then attacked Annapolis but that ended in the fiasco of a French retreat. New England had already been concerned with the French buildup in Louisburg, and were doubly concerned now that it was being used as a base for attacks.

William Shirley, the Governor of Massachusetts had some difficulty generating enthusiasm for a campaign against Louisburg. Agreement was finally reached, however, and 4,000 men were raised with the participation of his colony, plus Connecticut, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and New York. William Pepperell was a part-time a colonel of militia and undertook to command the endeavour. This was an unlikely little army, composed of store-keepers, farmers, and others little-used to soldiering. Nonetheless, they proved very successful.

Pepperell set out with ninety transport ships in early April, 1745, and arrived at Canso on the 10^th of that month. They destroyed the French fort at St. Peter’s and spent a couple of weeks in training before the main naval fleet arrived and blockaded the harbour at Louisbourg. Pepperell’s forces proceeded to the same place on April 29^th.

There was very little opposition to Pepperell’s landing, and the British surrounded the fort and town and gained a hold on the best artillery locations, including the Grand Battery. The French tried to take that Battery back but failed. The town was then bombarded from several locations and, through a lack of a timely defence, the French lost much of the advantage of their strong position.

For the English, success followed upon success. On May 18^th the French ship Vigilant had to surrender when, during a dense fog, the English ship Mermaid lured her into an indefensible position. Again, on May 24^th, three French ships and several buildings were destroyed by fire from an English ship which ventured into the harbour at night. The Island Battery was also taken.

By June 15^th, the French commander had no choice but to ask for a ceasefire while terms of surrender could be negotiated. These terms were agreed to on the next day and, on the day after that, Pepperell’s forces marched triumphantly into the fort. Four thousand French prisoners were shipped to Rochelle in fourteen transports.

Two thousand British troops arrived in the spring of 1746 to solidify their possession of the fort, although in reality, they could do little but to defend themselves against bands of Mi’kmaq and remaining French settlers.

Two years after that, in 1748, the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed, returning Cape Breton to the French, to the disgust of the New Englanders.

The Second Siege of Louisburg

Hostilities continued between England and France and, by the 1750’s, the population of Cape Breton was over 4,100, with half of those at Louisbourg. This population was growing rapidly and, by the mid-1750’s, there were 10,000 men in garrison there. The Seven Years’ War broke out in 1756, but politics in Britain and the lack of effective military leadership in America meant that there was little progress in a second taking of Louisbourg. William Pitt was determined to take Louisbourg and the Canadas from the French, however, and in June of 1758 a fleet of over 20 ships-of-war and more than 100 transports arrived off Gabarus Bay with 12,000 men. The men were in three companies led by Brigadier-General Whitmore, Brigadier-General Lawrence (Governor of Nova Scotia), and Brigadier-General Wolfe who would later die in Quebec. The defences at Louisbourg had been strengthened, but the French forces and their naval fleet were both outnumbered by about three to one.

The British made a difficult landing and overran the protective French batteries, which protected the harbour. The French were therefore forced to sink five ships at the harbour’s mouth to bar access.

The British continued methodical preparations for taking the fort with heavy losses on both sides. They were prevailing, however, aided by the naval ships which destroyed much of what was left of the French fleet.

It was clear that the French would lose the assault, and an offer was made to surrender to the British on condition of honourable treatment. This offer was refused, and the citizenry petitioned the French Governor to surrender unconditionally rather than to be utterly destroyed. This was done, and the British entered the town victorious on July 27, 1758.

Over 5,000 prisoners were sent to England, and the French civilians were returned to France. All of the French military equipment and supplies were seized, and Louisbourg was razed to the ground. Quebec subsequently fell, and the French possessions in North America were forever lost.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

There are three other posts dealing with Louisbourg in this blog, as follows:

• Prelude to the Taking of Louisbourg, dated March 20, 2019 at https://johnwood1946.wordpress.com/2019/03/20/prelude-to-the-taking-of-louisbourg/
• Louisbourg: It Didn’t Have to Happen. It Just Didn’t Have to Happen, dated November 2, 2016 at https://johnwood1946.wordpress.com/2016/11/02/louisbourg-it-didnt-have-to-happen-it-just-didnt-have-to-happen/
• The Bloody Assault on Fort Louisbourg in 1758, dated June 29, 2016 at https://johnwood1946.wordpress.com/2016/06/29/the-bloody-assault-on-fort-louisbourg-in-1758/

Nova Scotia Photographs, 1895, from the Yarmouth Steamship Company — Part 3

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

Nova Scotia Photographs, 1895, from the Yarmouth Steamship Company — Part 3

The Yarmouth Steamship Company published a brochure in 1895 of pictures from Nova Scotia, and entitled it Beautiful Nova Scotia, the Tourist’s Eden. Following is the third and final installment of images from that brochure.

Fishing Party at the Forks:

The Forks:

Steamer Yarmouth:

Steamer Boston:

Grand Hotel, Yarmouth – from an advertisement:

Albion Hotel, Halifax – from an advertisement:

Fairview Hotel, Bridgewater – from an advertisement:

Royal Hotel, Digby – from an advertisement:

Windsor Falls:

J.D. Dennis & Co., Drygoodsmen, Yarmouth

The Halifax Hotel:

War and Rumours of War. Saint John in 1812 to 1814

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now at Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

War and Rumours of War. Saint John in 1812 to 1814

John M. Baxter published Historical Records of the New Brunswick Regiment, Canadian Artillery in Saint John in 1896. That book includes a Chapter for the years including 1812 to 1814, and an edited version follows.

Saint John in 1815, from the New Brunswick Museum

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The bitter feelings arising from the American Revolution did not die out quickly. Though nominally at peace with England, yet many Americans saw the struggle between England and France following the French Revolution as an opportunity for striking another blow at the mother land. The great naval contest in which Britain was then engaged made the obtaining of seamen a matter of vital importance. Desertions were frequent under the rough discipline of those days and it was necessary to resort to impressment to keep up the supply. The American merchant service was growing and that nation, being at peace, could easily attract seamen. Men who had served in the British Navy were of course most desirable and were well represented among recruits.

Great Britain resolved to put an end to desertions and claimed a right of search of all vessels on the high seas for that purpose. So, early as 1807, an incident occurred which angered the Americans. H.M.S. Leopard stopped the U.S. ship Chesapeake, when sailing out of Hampton Roads. There was some resistance and the Leopard fired on the other vessel after which four men were taken from the Chesapeake as deserters from the British Navy. From that time the nations drifted rapidly towards war, for which the British Government made preparation.

On the 18^th June, 1812, an act of Congress was passed declaring war against Great Britain, whereupon Britain appointed Major-General G. Tracey Smythe as President of His Majesty’s Council in New Brunswick. Tracey Smythe then communicated with the City of St. John on the subject of fortifying that place against invasion. At a meeting held on the 1^st of July, 1812, the Common Council resolved, “that they would lend every aid and assistance within their power towards the objects suggested, and would take steps forthwith to agree with the proprietors of the lots on and around the ruins of Fort Frederick to satisfy and compensate them for any damage that might be necessarily sustained by them in consequence of erecting the contemplated fortifications.”

They also resolved, “That the members of the Board would personally attend to aid and assist in the work, and do all within the compass of their power to induce the inhabitants of the City to volunteer their exertions and services in so necessary an undertaking.”

Aldermen Sancton and Seelv and Assistant Gardner were appointed a committee to see the proprietors of the lots on and surrounding the ruins of Fort Frederick and to enter into any arrangement with them that might be requisite, on the subject of the intended fortifications.

At the next meeting of the City Council on July 7^th, 1812, a remarkable communication was laid before them by the mayor. It was a letter which had been received by him from “the chairman of a committee of public safety for the town of East Port, in the District of Maine, expressive of a determination of the inhabitants of that district to abstain from all depredations on the property or hostility against the persons of the inhabitants of this province during the present war declared by America against Great Britain so far as is consistent with the duty they owe to their country.” Upon the reading of this letter the council unanimously resolved that the mayor convey to the committee their approval of those sentiments and to assure them that everything on the part of the City should be done to promote a reciprocal line of conduct.

Alderman Crookshank, the captain of the New Brunswick Regiment, Canadian Artillery was present at these meetings. The government at that time took possession of Fort Frederick (old Fort la Tour) for defence.

Despite the danger of invasion the military force in the lower provinces was not strengthened until 1813. In the early months of that year Sir George Prevost ordered that the 2^nd battalion of the 8^th Regiment be sent to Quebec by the overland route. This was subsequently countermanded and the 104^th, a provincial regiment which had been raised as the King’s New Brunswick Regiment was selected for the duty. These gallant fellows left St. John in the bitter cold of February, 1813, the inhabitants assisting them with sleighs and all other conveniences at their command. Their history does not form a part of this narrative as their services were rendered in other than local defence, but their record has added lustre to the province of New Brunswick.

Early in 1813 Sir John Sherbrooke despatched to St. John ten 24-pr. guns for the batteries on Partridge Island at the entrance to the harbor. He also forwarded necessary ammunition and other requisites besides one thousand stand of muskets, but the ship Diligence on which they were laden became separated from her convoy, H.M.S. Rattler, in a snow storm while near Cape Sable. The Diligence afterwards went ashore on Beale’s Island, about twenty miles below Machias. The Rattier had four hundred of the muskets on board and this was all of the cargo that arrived at its destination. The poor Diligence with the remainder of the stores fell into the hands of the enemy. There was no means of replacing this loss and misfortune followed misfortune. A short time afterwards the Lady Johnson, a transport vessel, fell into the hands of the French while on her way to Halifax with forty pieces of battering cannon, two thousand barrels of gunpowder and other stores on board.

With the exception of a list of officers in an almanac of 1812, not even the most meagre account of the New Brunswick Regiment of Artillery during these stirring times can be obtained, but it is certain that no branch of the militia could have been exempt from the arduous duties which devolved upon the citizens at this period. The commerce of the provinces was exposed to the attacks of privateers, and the Royal Navy brought prize after prize into the colonial ports. There cannot, it would seem, be the slightest doubt but that the defence of his home was foremost in the mind of every subject, and that this, though unrecorded, was really the most eventful period of our military history.

Before the close of this 1812 to 1815 period, two more references to military affairs are to be found in the Common Council records. Firstly, on the 9^th March, 18 13, the freedom of the City was granted to Major Drummond, lately the commandant of the troops in garrison at Fort Howe. He was probably of the 8^th Regiment. Also, H. Fleming Senhouse, commanding H.M.S. Martin and senior officer on the station solicited Council for the proprietors of sleds, etc., to assist sailors on their way to the lakes of Canada. The board took the matter up heartily at a meeting on 27^th January, 1814, and employed the truckmen of the city to convey the men as far as Fredericton. For this service they received the sum of ten shillings per man conveyed which was paid by the city.

July 13th, 1813, witnessed the bringing of three prizes into the harbor of St. John by H.M.S schooner Breem under command of Lieutenant Charles Hare. This event and the wrecking of H.M.S. Plumper at Dipper Harbor are referred to in the late J.W. Lawrence’s Foot Prints. In July, 1815, Crookshank & Johnston, as auctioneers, offered for sale the wreck and unrecovered part of $70,000 in specie which had been destined for the Commissariat, but had by accident got into the locker of Davy Jones.

News was brought to Halifax by the Empress, which arrived there on Saturday, May 21^st, 1814, after a passage of twenty-nine days from Falmouth that the allied armies had entered Paris and restored the empire of the Bourbons. At St. John the tidings of the abdication of Napoleon and the restoration of the peace of Europe were hailed with delight. On the 23^rd May an ox was roasted whole, in King square, and the city was illuminated.

This eventful period in the history of St. John was graphically described in the recollections of James Bustin, who was born in the year 1800, and was a lad in the days which he recalls. The following extract is made from a copy of his reminiscences which he had prepared for his family, and for its reproduction here, as well as for much valuable assistance in the preparation of the entire work, the Battalion is deeply indebted to Clarence Ward, Esq. Mr. Bustin says: “The inmates of the almshouse, (then situated where the Dufferin hotel now stands) had … to take other quarters for a short time there being an apprehension of a French invasion. All available places were taken for barracks, a general draft was made throughout the province and the city was filled with soldiers…

“In early years the troops garrisoned at Fort Howe marched in military order each Sunday to church, there was no filing off to other places of worship allowed without special permission. From Fort Howe the sound of the morning and evening gun was heard as notice of the opening and closing of each day until the troops moved to barracks at Lower Cove in 1824.

“War was declared by the United States against England in 1812, this caused much excitement in the city, the old folks had not forgot the hard conflict they had passed through from 1776 to 1783—business of all kinds was nearly suspended, but this lasted for but a short time. The bustle of preparation and the continual arrival of soldiers, and their passing through on their way to Canada, added to this warships, large and small, prize vessels sent in, etc., made things lively. I am doubtful whether our city ever had so much life or business (according to population) as she had during those three years. Our defences were small, the Tower in Carleton commenced building in 1812 with one or two block-houses and the remains of Fort LaTour of historic fame, with a few old broken down French batteries was all the defence on the west side. On this side the harbor there was not much Sabbath for some time as all who were capable of handling an axe or an auger were employed in fitting up gun carriages and other preparations. Our defences were from the heights on Fort Howe hill and out around the lower part of the city from Battery point to Reed’s point. The artillery were stationed at the lower cove—the soldiers of the line stationed at Fort Howe. Our militia had at times to stand their draft.”

The war with the United States was ended by the Treaty of Ghent on 24^th December, 1814, but the desperate battle of New Orleans had been fought before the people of Canada heard that peace had been proclaimed. It was not until the 3^rd of March of the next year that the news reached Halifax. It had been proclaimed at Washington on 18^th February. The contest had been bloody and exhaustive. The provinces had borne their burden manfully and the long roll of battles reflects even more credit upon the raw Canadian militia than upon the trained troops with whom they cooperated. It was a struggle marked by incompetency on both sides almost from beginning to end, but yet, when peace was signed, the Americans had not a foothold upon our soil. Annexation was a very dead thing then. Blood and treasure were expended in vain for the accomplishment of that purpose, and with the conclusion of the war of 1812 the opportunity passed away forever. For every man that Canada had then she has ten men today; for adhesion she has cohesion; for weakness she has strength. Day by day and year by year her attachment to the British Crown has grown and strengthened until today she stands the foremost among the colonies of Britain.

A Mad Adventure Somehow Succeeds, the 1st Siege of Louisbourg in 1745

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

Following is an excellent description of The First Siege and Capture of Louisbourg, 1745, written by Adams George Archibald and presented before the Royal Society of Canada by George Lawson. It was found in the Transactions of the Society, Section II, 1887.

George Archibald was a politician and a lawyer, and a Lieutenant-Governor of Nova Scotia between 1873 and 1883. George Lawson was President of the Society at the time that the paper was presented.

I enjoyed Archibald’s work, and have made only very slight edits to the original. Similarly, no attempt has been made to shorten the presentation. The last several paragraphs have been retained for the flavour that they bring to the paper. They are very “19^th Century” in style; very British; very affectionate of Empire; and very worthy of Archibald’s title of KCMB, Knight Commander of the Order of St. Michael and St. George.

Louisbourg, a Mighty Fortress

From Google maps, street view

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A Mad Adventure Somehow Succeeds, the 1^st Siege of Louisbourg in 1745

Few events in history are more remarkable than the siege and rapture of Louisbourg in l745. The cession of Acadia to England, in 1713, had left Cape Breton the chief possession of the French in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Thenceforth it became the settled policy of France to construct in that island a fortress of the first order, to be the headquarters of the French fleet in American waters. Great care was taken in the selection of a suitable spot. Seven years of surveys, and numberless reports by engineers, resulted in the selection, for that purpose, of a place known as ‘English Harbour,” situated on the east coast of the island. This harbour is close upon the Atlantic. In half an hour, a ship passes from a tempestuous ocean to a haven of perfect security. The harbour winds inland to a distance of six miles from its mouth. It has a width at the narrowest part of about half a mile. The average depth of the water is from six to eight fathoms. The harbour is spacious enough to hold the entire British fleet. Across its mouth, there stretches, from the shore on the left of the entrance towards that on the right, a belt of low, rocky islets, protecting the harbour from the waters of the Atlantic. This belt extends to within a quarter of a mile of the high and rugged coast on the right. The only ship entrance is between the furthest islet of this belt and the shore on the right. On passing into the harbour, the coastline on the left is found to recede, so as to form a cove. From the shore of the cove the ground rises gently to a moderate height, and this spot was selected for the fort, which fronted on the water of the cove. The ground consisted of an area of one hundred acres.

For the five and twenty years next following the selection, the best engineering talent of Europe was employed in the construction of the fort and its appendages. Around the central area, a wall or rampart of stone was raised to the height of from thirty to thirty-six feet. The wall was over two miles and a half in length. A fosse [defensive trench] of eighty feet in width encompassed the walls. The central area was laid off in regular blocks, the streets crossing each other at right angles. Besides barracks, magazines and hospitals for military purposes, the French authorities erected a government house, an opera house, a theatre, and other secular buildings appertaining to a capital city, as also churches and other religious edifices. In the construction of the fort and city they spent over thirty millions of livres. They made it the strongest fortress on this continent and thought it impregnable.

They chose new names for the island and fort. The first was no longer to be called “Cape Breton,” though that name was itself French; thenceforth it was “Isle Royale.” “English Harbour” ceased to be a suitable name, and it became “Louisbourg.” The new titles were significant. “Isle Royale” suggested connection with the throne, “Louisbourg” with the person, of the Grand Monarque.

Besides the fort itself, there were outlying posts of great strength. A powerful battery, on one of the low islets at the mouth of the harbour, commanded the narrow ship entrance between it and the shore on the right: and far up the harbour, on a lofty hill facing the entrance, stood the grand battery with an armament of the heaviest guns. It also commanded the ship entrance. Thus Louisbourg, strong in itself, with two immense batteries commanding the harbour’s entrance, towered proudly in these northern waters, and was the terror of the English colonies from the Strait of Canso to the mouth of the Hudson.

In 1745, the fort was garrisoned by 700 regulars, and 1,000 militia, under command of Duchambon, who was also the French governor of Isle Royale.

For a century before that time, Nova Scotia had been the border-ground between the English and the French on the Atlantic coast. The province was alternately British and French, as the fortune of war determined. But every time that it was wrested from France, the conquest was the work of the British provincials. The possession of Nova Scotia by the English was to the provincials a vital point. When Nova Scotia was French, the border-ground shifted to New England. The peninsula was a wedge between the two powers. So long as the contest was confined to our soil. New England was comparatively safe.

The long peace between the two crowns ended in 1744. The French had taken care to despatch a fast ship at once to Louisbourg to convey the news. The governor of Isle Royale, the predecessor of Duchambon, had immediately equipped an expedition, under Duvivier (a descendant of the famous La Tour) and made a raid on Nova Scotia. The only military posts at the time in this province were Canso and Annapolis. A garrison of eighty men occupied a block house at Canso, which was in no condition to sustain a siege. They surrendered on the first summons. The block house was destroyed, and the garrison sent to Louisbourg as prisoners of war.

The plan of operations contemplated that Duvivier, after taking and destroying the block house at Canso, was to proceed with his force of 900 men (regulars and militia) to Annapolis, there to combine with other parties in an attack on that place. The fort at Annapolis was in a ruinous state. The place might have been taken with ease, if Duvivier had carried out his project with vigor. But a series of blunders occurred. First, the priest Le Loutre came upon the scene at Annapolis, with 300 Indians from Cape Sable and the River St. John, on July 1^st. This party spent some time investing the fort, but having no siege guns, they did little damage, beyond shooting a soldier or two, who were found straggling outside the fort. At length Le Loutre, disheartened by his failure, and hearing nothing of the other parties who were to join him, raised the siege and retired to Minas. Next came, in August, Duvivier with his troops, and a body of Indians. They, too, failed, and retired to Minas. Last of all came some ships of war from Louisbourg. Finding, on their arrival, that both the other parties had come and gone, the ships contented themselves with capturing a transport or two, and then retired from the scene. Nothing could have saved Annapolis, if the several parties, or any two of them, had reached the spot at the same time.

The destruction of Canso and the attack on Annapolis seriously alarmed the people of New England. They were sure the attempt on Nova Scotia would be repeated the following year, and they feared, with worse results. As things were, the fishery at Canso the best in the world, was gone. Louisbourg, only a few miles off, sheltered the French privateers and commanded the fishery, and from it armed ships could swoop down at pleasure on any part of the Atlantic coast. With Louisbourg, the only port of any importance in these northern waters, the provincials saw nothing before them but destruction to their commerce and to their settlements. They then began to turn over in their minds, whether it would not be possible to get rid of their trouble by a bold stroke on Louisbourg itself. It is uncertain who it was that originated the idea: but to Shirley, the Massachusetts governor, is certainly due the credit, if, under the circumstances (judged, not from the results, but from what might reasonably have been expected to be the results) credit it be, of inciting and persuading his people to undertake the hazardous adventure. He proposed it first to his legislative assembly in secret session. The members stood aghast at the temerity of the proposal. They rejected it with scarce a dissentient voice. But it was a matter of life and death to the merchants and traders, even more than to the settlers. They pressed for a reconsideration, which was granted. Finally, after long and tedious discussion, the proposal was carried by a majority of one. Once a decision was given in its favour, all concurred united in doing their best to make the project successful.

It was proposed to raise 4,000 men for the purpose. The resolution to that effect passed towards the end of January. Within two months from that date the levies were completed and 4,070 men were enrolled and ready to sail. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed. It was not a question merely of politics or of trade: the feeling was largely religious. The Indians who raided the British settlements, and massacred and scalped the inhabitants, were Roman Catholics. The settlers gauged the creed the Indians professed by the outrages they practiced. The Indians were under the guidance of Roman Catholic priests. In the rude logic of the provincials, they inferred that it was “like master like man.” Hence hatred of Romanism became in New England a living force, drawing in the same line with trading interests and national hatreds. Many of the volunteers enlisted from religious motives. Whitfield, the great English Evangelist, who was in Massachusetts at the time, furnished a motto to be inscribed on the banner of the expedition: Nil desperandum Christo duce! “Despair not with Christ for leader.” The sentiment was appropriate. It was the motto of a forlorn hope. Humanly speaking, success, in such an expedition, was impossible. If it came at all, it must be the result of divine interposition. In the eyes of the adventurers, the age of miracles was not past. They believed that in so sacred a cause miracles might still be wrought, and when we see what a continuous series of marvellous events actually did occur, we cease to wonder at the credulity of the adventurers in considering themselves the special favorites of Providence.

The volunteers were farmers and mechanics, traders and labourers. They were utterly undisciplined. They had never seen anything of war, except, perhaps, a skirmish with a band of Indians. They were to be led by one Pepperel, a merchant, with no more experience of war than themselves; and they were to set out on an expedition against the strongest fort in America, defended by a garrison of regular soldiers, and having behind it all the resources of the French monarchy. Such an undertaking required faith and enthusiasm of no ordinary kind.

The expedition was to sail from the mouth of the Piscataqua on March 24^th. Besides the transports, thirteen small, armed vessels, belonging to Massachusetts and the other New England colonies, carrying in all 100 guns, accompanied the expedition. Shirley had hoped to secure the assistance of the British fleet on the station, and had written to Commodore Warren, who was then in the West Indies, asking his aid. The answer reached Shirley the very day before the expedition was to sail from Piscataqua. Warren declined he had no orders from the Admiralty, and would not aid without them. This was discouraging, but Shirley did not hesitate. He concealed the news from all except Pepperel and Waldo, the first and second in command, and the expedition sailed on March 24^th. On April 4^th, the fleet, consisting of 150 ships, armed vessels and transports, met by appointment at Canso. They found the whole eastern coast of Cape Breton skirted by a wide belt of floating ice. The stream from the Gulf of St. Lawrence, running along the coast outside of Scatarie Island, brings with it every spring a body of gulf ice, which receives its direction largely from the wind prevailing at the time. If after passing Scatarie, the breeze blows toward the shore, it drives the ice before it and makes an impenetrable barrier between the open sea and the harbours on the coast. This happens only once in several years. But it happened this year. For three weeks, the expedition lay at Canso, waiting for a gap in the ice. But the time was not lost. The men, who were a mere mob on their arrival, were drilled daily. They began to acquire some faint glimmerings of discipline. Some of them were employed in building a fort at Canso, where a garrison was to be left.

Some days after their arrival at that port, three ships were descried in the offing. They were soon discovered to be men of war. There was no little excitement among the adventurers. If the ships should turn out to be French, as was quite possible, the expedition would have terminated almost as soon as it had begun. What was the relief of the provincials, when they discovered that the ships were British, and shortly afterwards that they were three of Commodore Warren’s fleet, come to take part in the expedition! It turned out that the very day after Warren had despatched his letter to Shirley, orders had reached him from the Admiralty to sail at once to Boston and join the expedition. He set sail forthwith, and having, on approaching the coast, learned from a merchantman, that the expedition had already sailed, he proceeded at once to Canso, to the intense relief of Shirley and of the two commanding officers to whom the secret of his refusal had been confided.

Another piece of good fortune occurred during the stay at Canso. A French brig from Martinique, laden with rum and molasses, and bound for Louisbourg, was prevented by the ice from reaching that port. She put into Canso and was captured. The cargo was a valuable addition to the commissariat of the expedition.

But what were the authorities at Louisbourg about all this time? Strange to say, they knew nothing of the expedition. Louisbourg is distant from Canso less than thirty leagues. For three weeks, a fleet of 150 sail had been lying at Canso, and not the slightest hint of the fact had reached Louisbourg. Across the strait from Canso lay the French village of Nerica, (now Arichat). The fleet was visible from the shores of Isle Madame. Yet it lay for three weeks in sight of Nerica, and not a man in that place was found to carry the tidings to Duchambon. Port Toulouse, as it was then called (now St. Peters), was within a few miles of Canso. It was garrisoned by French soldiers under the command of Capt. Benoit. Surely in a time of war that officer should have advised his superior at Louisbourg of the large fleet in his neighbourhood. He did not, however.

After Warren reached Canso he sent some of the smaller vessels to cruise backwards and forwards, in front of Louisbourg harbour, to prevent any French vessels hovering off the coast from entry should a gap appear in the ice belt. These were seen by people on the shore, and the fact reported to Duchambon. This did not alarm him. He assumed that the vessels were French, waiting an opportunity to enter the harbour. Every year a supply ship, despatched from Brest, reached the coast early in the spring. He took for granted that one at least of the cruisers was the expected supply ship. Still, he thought it might be worthwhile to make some inquiry whether there was anything going on at Canso to excite suspicion. He accordingly sent a message to Capt. Benoit at Port Toulouse, directing him to make inquiries. That officer dispatched three men on this service, a soldier, a habitant, and an Indian. They proceeded to Canso, landed on the shore opposite the island, and made their observations of the state of things there. They then set out on their return to Port Toulouse. On their way they met a temptation that they could not resist. Accident gave them the opportunity of falling on a small party of English and making four of them prisoners. They then proceeded homeward with their captives. One night they all stretched themselves out by the camp fire. The messengers were weary and soon fell asleep. The prisoners seized the opportunity, released themselves from their shackles, and killed their captors. The tidings of the doings at Canso perished with the messengers. The commander at Port Toulouse lost his men. The governor at Louisbourg remained as ignorant as ever of what was going on at Canso.

At last, on Sunday, April 29^th, the wind shifted, driving the ice seaward, and leaving the shore clear. The expedition sailed at once. It reached Chapeau Rouge (Gabarus) Bay, back of Louisbourg, and was within a couple miles of the fort, on Sunday evening. But the wind died away and it was impossible to land then. The fleet lay off till the morning. At early dawn, the French soldiers on duty, descried from off the walls of Louisbourg an immense fleet, whitening with its sails the whole extent of Gabarus Bay. It was a perfect surprise. So little thought had Duchambon of an enemy being at hand, that he had, the evening before, given a ball at Government House, which was kept up to a late hour. The officers who had been at the party had scarcely got to bed before they were roused by the alarm. Governor, and officers alike, were in a state of consternation. They soon, however, recovered so far as to make some attempt to resist the landing. From the ramparts were seen several boats, full of soldiers, steering in a direction towards White Point, immediately in rear of the town. Duchambon at once despatched a body of eighty men towards the point, under command of a famous partisan of the name of Morpen. The boats approached within a short distance of the shore, then veered about and returned towards the fleet. There they were joined by a number of other boats, fully manned, that been hidden behind the transports waiting the return of their comrades from the feint on White Point. All then made for the shore of Gabarus Bay, at a place some two miles distant from White Point. The Morpen party, seeing their mistake, marched at once for the new landing place. But the ground was difficult and the English had already landed in sufficient force to keep their ground and repel their assailants. The French were driven back to the fort. A high hill intervened between the shore of the bay and the town of Louisbourg. Next day, a party of 400 men, under Col. Vaughan, set out on a reconnoitering expedition. They pushed their way through the forest to the top of the hill. From that point they overlooked the fort. They shewed themselves for a moment on the crest of the hill, then uttered a defiant shout to the soldiers on the walls. Then they plunged again into the forest on the hill side, and made their way towards the upper part of the harbour. Two miles above the fort, on the edge of the harbour, stood several warehouses filled with quantities of pitch, tar and other inflammables. To these they set fire. In an incredibly short space of time the whole was one mass of flame. The smoke from the burning buildings and materials was driven by the wind in the direction of the grand battery already mentioned. The garrison of this post thought that the whole British force was upon them. They immediately reported the state of things to Duchambon, and obtained his consent to abandon the battery, first spiking their cannon. In hot haste they acted on this permission, hardly taking time to spike the guns effectually. They escaped to Louisbourg at midnight, leaving the French flag floating on the staff. Next morning Col. Vaughan, on returning from his reconnoitring expedition, with a small detachment of thirteen men of whom one was an Indian, came in sight of the battery. The flag was flying, but he was surprised not to see any smoke issuing from the chimneys. Alter waiting a while, and seeing no appearance of motion or life in the fort, he sent the Indian to scale the wall and ascertain what all this meant. The Indian, on climbing up, found that the fort had been abandoned. He then opened the gate and let his comrades in. Vaughan immediately ordered the French flag to be hauled down, and having none of his own to replace it with, he directed one of the men to nail a soldier’s red coat to the mast. He then sent a message to the general, informing him that “by the Grace of God, and the courage of thirteen men, he was in possession of the grand battery,” and asked for a reinforcement and a flag.

But it seemed for a while as if Vaughan was not likely to keep his new possession long. Duchambon, apparently ashamed of the cowardly abandonment of the battery, sent next morning a body of sixty soldiers, in boats, to retake the fort. Vaughan saw the boats leaving the wharf, and steering towards the foot of the hill on which the battery stood. He immediately rushed with his thirteen men to the shore, and opened fire on the boats. This was returned vigorously. For many minutes there seemed no hope of successful resistance, but Vaughan and his men were determined to sell their lives dear. They continued their fire. At length they had the satisfaction to see the boats turn about and head towards the town. The little band marched back in triumph to their battery, where they were soon joined by such a reinforcement as put the retention of the post beyond the region of doubt.

An immense number of powerful guns, and a great quantity of shells and other war material were found in the battery. The gunsmiths, of whom there were many in the ranks of the volunteers, soon drilled out the spikes, and within a week, the powerful armament of this battery was turned against the fortress it was built to protect, doing, with its plunging shot, infinite damage to the walls and buildings of the beleaguered fort.

At the same time, the invading force, after reaching the crest of the hill, were gradually advancing their batteries down the hillside, sloping towards the fort. Each battery came nearer and nearer the walls. From these batteries and from that which the thirteen men had captured, a constant cannonade was kept up. At last, a battery was constructed within the eighth of a mile from the walls, and played directly on the west gate. The balls from this point raked the streets, which were on the same line with the battery and the west gate.

Meanwhile the fleet could do nothing. It was anchored off the harbour. The island battery effectually blocked the ship entrance. It became necessary, therefore, if the ships were to take any part in the siege, that this battery should be silenced and an attempt was accordingly made to take it by assault. On the evening of May 27^th, 400 men, who had volunteered for the purpose, led by a Captain Brooks, an officer of their own choice, embarked at White Point, in thirty-five boats, and stole quietly round in the direction of the islet on which the battery was placed. But the sea was rough, the night dark and foggy, and many of the boats perished in the surf that beat from the Atlantic on the islet belt. Some of the men were drowned, and all had their firearms soaked with water. Those who landed and attempted to scale the battery, were driven back by the garrison, which consisted of 200 men. Sixty of the provincials were killed, and 116 made prisoners. It was a serious reverse, the only one, indeed, which the invaders met with during the siege. But they were not discouraged, and immediately set about other means of accomplishing their object—the silencing of the island battery, so as to enable the fleet to enter the harbour.

We have already noticed the high land, on the right of the entrance of the harbour, which rises abruptly from the water. On the summit was a lighthouse, and the hill itself had long been known as Lighthouse Point. Before the attempt made on the island battery by water, it was contemplated to establish a battery on this point. From this elevation, guns of sufficient power could soon render the island battery untenable. But how were the besiegers to get heavy guns to the spot? They would have to be dragged from the camp for miles, through the forest, over ground strewn with huge rocks, interspersed with morasses almost impassable. This must be done by the labour of men, for, of horses or cattle, even if they could have been used, there were none to be had. It was an appalling task, but the failure of the attack by sea seemed to render it inevitable. At this moment, just at the time when guns were so necessary, and the difficulty of getting them to the spot almost insuperable, a most fortunate discovery was made. A number of large cannon were noticed under water at a place called the careening ground, in close vicinity to Lighthouse Point. They had been there tor ten years, sunk in a hurry, and never fished up, though well known to be there by all the French governors of the period. No time was lost in raising them to the surface, and making them ready for use. They were dragged to the site of the proposed battery and duly mounted. In a few days they were playing on the island battery below, doing effective work. By and by, some larger guns and a mortar procured from the camp were, with infinite difficulty, added to the armament. Then the new battery began to make fearful havoc with its plunging shot on the island fort, dismounting the guns and driving away the gunners. In a few days the island battery was as good as silenced.

We have already mentioned that the French government were in the habit of sending every spring from Brest, a ship with supplies for Louisbourg. The ship generally left in time to reach the Cape Breton coast early in the spring. This year, the vessel destined for that service took fire and burnt to the water’s edge, just as she was about to be loaded. There was no other transport in the harbour of Brest available for the service. But the Vigilante, an eighty-gun ship of war, was on the stocks, nearly ready to launch. She was finished as rapidly as possible, laden with supplies and despatched to Louisbourg. But all this caused delay, and she did not reach the coast of Isle Royale till May 18^th, a little over a fortnight after the arrival of the besieging force. The captain of the Vigilante, the Marquis de Maison Forte, on approaching the coast, descried the Mermaid, one of Warren’s small ships of war, and immediately gave chase. The Mermaid hoisted all sail and ran for Louisbourg. All of a sudden the Marquis found himself in the middle of Warren’s fleet. An action took place in sight of Louisbourg; and though Duchambon himself witnessed the battle, he had no idea how deeply he was interested in it. In a short time the Vigilante surrendered, the crew of 650 men becoming prisoners of war. The supplies she carried were of great use to the besiegers. The Vigilante herself was repaired, and manned by a British crew, thus adding a powerful ship to the strength of the British fleet.

The time had at last arrived for bringing the fleet on the scene. Preparatory to that, Duchambon must learn the hopelessness of his condition. It was reported in the English camp that the French and their Indian allies had treated the British prisoners with great cruelty. De Maison Forte was spoken to on the subject, he was asked to visit the different ships in which his captive officers and crew were distributed, and see how those prisoners were treated by the English. Finding everything to his satisfaction, he was asked to write to Duchambon, remonstrating against the cruelties alleged to be committed on the French side. He wrote accordingly, and his note was sent under flag of truce. This gave Duchambon the first intimation he had of the loss of the Vigilante. Though he, himself had witnessed the hard battle which had ended in the surrender of a ship, as yet it had never occurred to him that the ship was the one that contained his supplies. So the letter fell on Duchambon and his officers like a bomb-shell.

While the governor and his subordinates were labouring under the depression caused by this intelligence, the besiegers were making preparations for a general assault. This was to be made on June 11^th, the anniversary of King George’s accession. The grand battery and all the new batteries on the hillside near the west gate, were to open a general cannonade on the fort. The lighthouse battery was to play on the island below, and during the cannonade, the ships of war, at a given signal, were to enter the harbour and join in the grand assault.

Duchambon saw that the crisis was at hand. A day or two before, he had, according to his own account, received a petition signed by 1,000 inhabitants imploring him to spare further bloodshed, by offering a capitulation. He had then held a council of war, who recommended the same course. He then sent a flag of truce to the general and commodore. On their first arrival, they had summoned him to surrender, he had replied proudly, that he would send his answer by the mouth of his guns. But things had changed since then. It was now his place to drop lofty airs and to ask for terms. The conditions were sent. He was obliged to comply, and on June 10^th, the fort surrendered.

Thus, in the course of less than seven weeks from the time when first the ships were seen from the battlements of Louisbourg, that stronghold was in the possession of the invaders.

In the preceding autumn, the Marquis de Beauharnois, the governor-general of Canada, having reason to believe that the provinces would take some steps to avenger the capture of Canso, and the raids on Annapolis, had sent a letter to Duchambon, offering reinforcements for the Louisbourg garrison, if required. But that officer felt himself quite safe in the stronghold and declined the offer. When, however, he found himself sorely pressed by the enemy, he repented of his decision. He then bethought himself of a force under Marin who had been sent in the previous year to aid in the attack on Annapolis. It had wintered in Beaubassin and was now on its way to make another attack on Annapolis. It was supposed to be at Minus, and thither Duchambon sent messengers, ordering Marin to come at once to Louisbourg with all the troops under his command. On the arrival of the messengers at Minus, they found that Marin and his party had already gone on to Annapolis. They followed thither. On receipt of Duchambon’s order, Marin held a council of war. Some of his soldiers were disposed to disregard the order, and go on with the attack of Annapolis. But Marin persuaded the hulk of his party to obey. But then came the difficulty of transport. All Acadia could not furnish ships enough for the purpose. At last, however, Marin succeeded in procuring a vessel of twenty-five tons and also some 1,150 bark canoes. In these he embarked his men, numbering—Canadians and Indians together—some 400 men, and set out for Louisbourg. He made fair progress down the bay, till in doubling a headland near Cape Sable, he found himself close upon a British privateer, which immediately opened fire. Nothing daunted, Marin and his party returned the fire, and rushed on the privateer. They were already scaling her sides, with a prospect of soon getting possession of her, while a second privateer, a comrade of the first, hove in sight and prepared to take part in the contest. The Canadians and Indians, seeing that there was no further chance for them, abandoned the attack and, flying in their canoes to the shore, hid themselves in the forest. When the privateers left, the party gathered themselves together. The skirmish had thinned their ranks. They had lost their vessel and many of their canoes. At length they got afloat again and proceeded on their voyage. But the delay was fatal. They did not reach Isle Royale till over a fortnight after Louisbourg had fallen. Duchambon, in his report to the minister says that, if they had arrived when he expected them, the fort would have been saved; that the English supposed the force to consist of 2,500 men, and would have raised the siege on the arrival of Marin’s force. This is one of the many excuses which Duchambon assigns for his failure.

The English forces entered into possession of Louisbourg. The garrison marched out with the honors of war, flags flying and drums beating. The men, after giving up their arms, went on board the English ships. Under the terms of the capitulation, over 4,000 souls were afterwards sent to France.

All England was in a state of delirious excitement, over the capture. Church bells proclaimed the joyful tidings in every town of the kingdom. The grateful monarch gave Pepperel a title and Warren a flag. The spoils of war taken at Louisbourg were enormous. To these were added, a few days afterwards, two Indiamen, richly laden, decoyed into Louisbourg by the French flag, left purposely floating on the citadel. One of these carried half a million of Spanish dollars, hidden under a cargo of cocoa. The value of the captures exceeded three millions of pounds sterling.

We have alluded to the strong element of religious enthusiasm in the adventurers. One of the chaplains brought with him a hatchet for the express purpose of hewing down idolatrous images in the Roman Catholic churches. When the miracle of the capture of the grand battery took place, it was looked upon, and not unnaturally, as a special interposition of Divine Providence. The event was celebrated on the Sunday following, on the spot, by a sermon, the first Protestant discourse ever heard in Isle Royale. The preacher took for his text the words, “Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise.” There is no doubt the Old Testament narrative of conquests in Canaan figured largely in the sermon.

When the city itself fell, there were no bounds to the devout enthusiasm of the victors. On the occasion of a festival held shortly afterwards, a long winded minister was called upon to ask a blessing. He disappointed his auditors who knew, and dreaded, his verbosity, by one of the pithiest of graces on record: “Lord, we have so many things to thank Thee for, that time would fail us to do it fully. We leave it, therefore, for the work of eternity.”

The men who undertook and carried out this enterprise, displayed great courage and unflagging energy. From beginning to end, their conduct was irreproachable. No danger deterred, no difficulty daunted them. They did their work with a zeal, an energy and an earnestness, and in a spirit of obedience, that would have commanded admiration, even had they been veteran soldiers. We would not detract in the smallest degree from the credit to which the display of these great qualities entitles them, and yet we venture to say that, had the expedition failed, history would have regarded the whole project as one of the maddest that ever entered into the heart of man to conceive. Let us recapitulate some of the incidents we have mentioned, bearing on the final result.

First, the unexpected arrival of Commodore Warren and his fleet, after the expedition had sailed for Canso. On leaving the Piscataqua, the commander of the expedition had no right to expect the aid of the British fleet. He arrived at Canso in the belief that he should not receive that aid, and yet if it had not been given, the Vigilante which reached Gabarus on May 18^th, would have captured or dispersed every ship in the bay, and put in peril the land forces sandwiched between the bay and the fort.

Then, again, the ice on the coast gave an unexpected delay, which enabled the officers to get into something like discipline a body of rustics, wholly unacquainted with military movements, who had never acted together, and were, when they arrived at Canso, only a mob. Nor did the delay occasion any of the inconveniences that might have been expected from it. The surprise of the French, on May 1^st, was as complete as if the ships had arrived direct from New England. Had the intended invasion been known at Louisbourg, surely some better attempts to prevent the landing would have been made. And why was it not known?

It is perfectly marvellous, that no Frenchman at Nerica, no soldier, habitant, or Indian at Port Toulouse, should have been found to convey the intelligence to Louisbourg. And the marvel is emphasised by the extraordinary incidents which attended the despatch of the three spies from Fort Toulouse to Canso, and their assassination on the homeward journey. Then again, the destruction by fire of the supply ship, and the substitution in its place of the Vigilante, had a great bearing on the result. Had the supply ship arrived earlier on the coast, it could have entered the harbour of Louisbourg before the ice broke up in the gulf. When the Vigilante reached the coast, and fell into the hands of the English, it furnished them with the supplies which were sadly needed by the garrison, and it added to the blockading force a first-class ship of war.

The fatuity which induced the garrison of the grand battery to abandon their stronghold without firing a gun, within twenty-four hours of the landing of the expedition, and that too, without seeing an enemy, was one of the wonders of the siege. This battery should have defied for weeks any attempt to take it. Its retention would have retarded indefinitely the advance of the batteries towards the west gate, while its surrender opened the town to a most destructive plunging fire from guns heavier than any previously in possession of the besieging force. If the defence of the battery could have been prolonged, a powerful French fleet, then on its way across the Atlantic, might have reached Louisbourg in time to take part in the conflict. That fleet had already come half way across, when it received news of the surrender of the fort, and returned to France.

Had Marin and his party not been detained by a series of adverse accidents, the surrender might probably have been postponed. Their being at Annapolis, when they were supposed to be at Minas, the loss of time in finding the means of transport, and when these, insufficient as they were, had been found, the further delay arising from the capture of the vessel, and the dispersion of the canoes, which prevented arrival in time to be of any use, were unfortunate events for Duchambon, while Marin’s obedience to his summons probably saved Annapolis from capture.

The only hope for Louisbourg was in the protraction of the siege. If the surrender could have been postponed, succour was on the way.

There was, indeed, an element of protection for the besieged and of danger to the besiegers, that neither of them thought of, but which might have seriously affected the result. From the day the invaders landed on the shore of Gabarus Bay, to the day of the surrender of the fort, there was an unbroken spell of fine weather, and the provincials, though exposed to unusual toil and fatigue, with little shelter, were free from illness of any kind. But immediately after June 16^th, there was a change. A season of rain, wind and foul weather set in which lasted for weeks. Had the provincials, with their insufficient shelter been exposed to this, it would certainly have greatly hindered their progress, and probably brought on the diseases which always accompany siege operations in foul weather. Happily for the provincials, the surrender of the fort came opportunely for them. It put an end to their toil and furnished the shelter which the fort afforded. But even then the effects of the weather were severely felt. Putrid fever and dysentery broke out among them. Seven hundred of their number, sick or unfit for duty, were sent home, and their place supplied by fresh recruits from the provinces. The New England regiments were relieved in the spring by regulars from Gibraltar, but before that time came round, some hundreds of the men found their last resting place under the green sward of Point Rochefort—a tract of low ground at the left of the entrance of the harbour, a continuation, in fact, on the mainland, of the belt of low islets, already referred to. What would have been the result had the weather changed some weeks earlier, and disease set in while the men were toiling in the trenches and erecting batteries, we can hardly say, but it does not admit of a doubt, that in such a case, the surrender would have been deferred, and in delay the only hope of Louisbourg was to be found.

Another thing on which the provincials had some reason to count —and on which it appears they did count—remains to be mentioned. It seems that in December preceding, a month or two after Duchambon had declined Beauharnois’ offer of additional men, a serious mutiny had broken out in the garrison at Louisbourg, which had lasted all winter. This was known in New England, where it was believed that the garrison would refuse to fight and that, therefore, the fort would yield on the first summons. But Duchambon, on the first appearance of the fleet, called the soldiers together and made a stirring speech to them, pointing out the splendid opportunity the invasion gave them of wiping out the offences of the winter, by returning loyally to their duty as soldiers, and manfully fighting the enemies of their king and country.

The soldiers responded at once to this appeal, returned to their duty, and proved loyal to their flag throughout the siege. Still, however, the officers continued to distrust them, and did not feel safe in allowing the men to sally forth against the enemy in the trenches. Sallies, from time to time, by veteran soldiers against raw recruits, at work in dangerous services, quite new to them, could not have failed of some success, and would certainly have retarded the progress of the besiegers. The conduct of the garrison during the siege leaves no room to suppose they could not have been trusted beyond the walls, but the fear of the officers, in effect, allowed the siege operations to be carried on without interruption, except so far as they were obstructed by cannonades from the fort. If, therefore, the besiegers did not derive benefit, in the form they expected from the disaffection of the garrison, they had ample compensation for it in a form they did not count upon.

We think, therefore, we have made it clear that the success of the New England expedition, if not miraculous, was at all events accompanied by a series of happy occurrences which no sagacity could have foreseen. The result of the expedition had, we believe, much to do with shaping the future of this continent. Had it failed, it would have entailed disastrous results on all the British provinces. In that case, posterity would have denounced it as a mad adventure. But nothing succeeds like success. On the strength of the result, Old England went wild. Nor was New England less ecstatic in its joy. The provincials felt themselves no longer on a plane inferior to that of Englishmen. They rose in their own estimation. They began to feel that in vigor and pluck, in hardihood and energy, they were quite the equal of the English, and they knew that in education and intelligence, and in the peculiarly American quality of versatility, they possessed a marked superiority over their English brethren. They felt that they might rely in the future on the same measure of success which had attended their first great enterprise. Therefore, though for the time their warlike exploit was ineffective, the British having at the end of the war ignominiously handed back Louisbourg to the French, still the provincials cherished the memory of the siege, and of its incidents, and were ready for like exploits when the occasion should offer. We have little doubt that the spirit, thus created, fostered by subsequent warlike exploits in company with English troops, was a powerful factor in shaping the future destiny of the continent.

The first siege of Louisbourg naturally suggested the second, in which imperial and colonial forces were again mingled. The second capture of the Cape Breton stronghold, in 1758, naturally led to the siege of Quebec in the following year, and the fall of that great fortress was the end of French power in America.

So long as the provinces needed the aid of England to repel French aggression, the English monarch could count on the allegiance of his colonial subjects. But when these no longer needed imperial assistance, the warlike spirit, bred of participation in contests with the French rapidly took a new direction. Within twenty years from the peace which gave us New France, came another peace which lost us thirteen provinces.

Had the French flag continued to float over Quebec for another century who shall say what would have been the present state of our continent? Is it not possible in that case that North America or the bulk of it, would at this moment consist of a great French empire extending from the mouth of the St, Lawrence to its source and from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, while the English provinces on the Atlantic, confined to a contracted strip between the Alleghenies and the ocean, would have formed a narrow fringe on the edge of the great French domain, holding their own against powerful neighbours only by the aid of Great Britain, whose empire would be thus “cabined, cribbed, confined” [Macbeth] in the west, while in the meantime it was attaining to colossal dimensions on the east, by colonies in Africa, Asia, Australia and Australasia and by conquests in India and Burma. Our own little province, which as long as one hundred and thirty years ago was occupied by Acadians, whose fecundity had already spread from Annapolis to Truro, would, of course, have been French, and have formed a southern boundary of New France on the Atlantic. With the aid of the British armies and fleets, the crest of the Alleghenies might probably have been retained as the western boundary of the English provinces.

If it be true that the first siege of Louisbourg had so powerful an influence in shaping the fortune of North America, then the United States and British America have cause to bless the day when a majority of one in the Massachusetts Assembly first set on foot a policy pregnant with such wonderful results.

When we think of the number of fortuities which determined the result of the first act in the drama, it is difficult not to recognize the hand of Providence in the whole series of events which has occurred from that day to this. And in connection with the wonderful character of many of these events, we are constrained to admit that Whitefield’s motto was by no means inappropriate.

Nova Scotia Photographs, 1895, from the Yarmouth Steamship Company — Part 2

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

Nova Scotia Photographs, 1895, from the Yarmouth Steamship Company — Part 2

The Yarmouth Steamship Company published a brochure in 1895 of pictures from Nova Scotia, and entitled it Beautiful Nova Scotia, the Tourist’s Eden. Following are some of the images from that brochure.

Main Street, Kentville, Nova Scotia:

Grand Pre, Home of Evangeline:

Grand Pre and Passenger Car Dining Photograph Collection:

Fall River, Near Halifax:

Canning, Kingsport and Digby Photograph Collection:

Martello Tower, Halifax:

Halifax, from George’s Island:

Entrance to Citadel, Halifax:

Public Gardens in Halifax, Photograph Collection:

Scene Near Halifax, Nova Scotia:

Wild Cat River, Queens County:

The 16th Century in North America; Not a Single Permanent Colony Established

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

The 16^th Century in North America; Not a Single Permanent Colony Established

Rough Seas, a 19^th Century Engraving — John Cabot

From the Kean Collection/Getty Images, via the New York Times

A number of adventurers came to North America during the sixteenth century. All of their explorations to find a passage to the Orient failed, as were their few attempts at colonization. The following description of the times is condensed and edited from William Willis’Voyages to the East Coast of America, in the XVI Century, Boston, 1869.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It is a curious fact that, notwithstanding the great excitement which followed the discovery of the American continent, that no part of it lying north of Florida was colonized for more than one hundred years after the first great voyage of the Cabots, in 1497.

John Cabot’s first voyage was in a single vessel, from Bristol to Newfoundland or Cape Breton with his son Sabastian. The whole voyage occupied but three months, from May to August, 1497, but they saw no inhabitants and returned sadly disappointed that their hoped-for passage to Cathay was obstructed by this inconvenient stretch of land. Their real achievement was to show the existence of a new, great continent to the west, but this left little impression upon the public mind in England.

More extended preparations were then made for continuing their discoveries in the following year, with full confidence of finding the western passage to Cathay. A fleet of five vessels was placed under Sebastian Cabot, who with a large company of volunteers sailed from Bristol in May, 1498. He reached the coast at Newfoundland or Labrador in July, which he followed to the northeast, until he encountered ice in such quantities as to check his further advance. He then turned south, and proceeded as far as Cape Hatteras, examining the coast at various points to find his hoped-for route to India. He encountered the native inhabitants, and made observations in regard to their character and customs. This was the last voyage to the north performed by the Cabots; the spirit of excitement having wholly died away from failure of the great object of their search, and no further attempts were made by the English for many years.

In the meantime, however, other nations were stirred by the example of England, to enter upon this new field of adventure. The Portuguese, famous for their explorations in the southern hemisphere, were now drawn toward the north and, in the year 1500, an expedition was fitted out at Lisbon, and placed under the command of Gaspard de Cortereal. This navigator, sailed on a northwest course and reached the American coast, but at what point we do not know, but it was probably at some part of Newfoundland. He also sailed northward from there, but encountering Greenland, returned to Lisbon in the fall. We have no particulars of this Cortereal voyage, and there are only scant archival records referring to it.

Of Cortereal’s second voyage, we have more information, by which it appears that he sailed from Lisbon on May 15, 1501, with two (some say three) ships, and pursued a west-northwest course for two thousand Italian miles. He reached the coast of Newfoundland, and continued in a northerly direction six or seven hundred miles further, until his passage was obstructed by ice. He then turned southward and, after seizing fifty-seven natives, commenced his homeward voyage. Unfortunately, only one ship returned to Lisbon, arriving early in October, 1501. The other ship, with the commander, and fifty of the slaves, was never heard of again. The country thus visited and plundered was named Labrador from the Portuguese word signifying laborer; it is also called on some early maps Corterealis, or coast of Cortereal.

The next year, 1502, Cortereal’s brother Miguel was sent in pursuit of his lost brother and crew, and he also perished. No account of either of them was ever received. Thus terminated the efforts of the Portuguese at discovery in this portion of America.

Soon after this time, fishermen from France, either in pursuit of whales or cod on the banks of Newfoundland, began to visit the coast. They were the first nation to enter upon the American fisheries which they commenced as early as 1504, seven years after the first discovery of the country; and so great was their success, that within thirteen years, fifty vessels, principally French, were employed in the business. By 1577, the same nation had 150 vessels in the same employment, and were associated with vessels from every other commercial nation in Europe. The English were not found there until 1517; but in 1522, they had made such progress that they had erected 40 or 50 houses on Newfoundland for the convenience of their fishermen. This was the first attempt of the English at colonization, albeit in temporary quarters. We have no evidence that these fishermen visited any other part of the American coast, or made any attempt to settle or occupy the country. In 1506, John Denys, of Honfleur in France, published a map of the coast of Newfoundland and neighboring country, but this has been lost.

The next voyage to our continent, of which we have any account, was conducted by John de Verazzani, a Florentine by birth, under the direction of Francis I. of France in 1524. To this adventurer goes the credit for the earliest original account we have of the Atlantic coast of the U.S.

Verazzani left the Madeira Islands in January, 1524, with one vessel and 50 men; he pursued a westerly course and reached the coast in the vicinity of Cape Fear, North Carolina in 49 days. Finding no suitable harbor, he sailed southerly along the coast to about Florida and, perceiving the land to continue low toward the southward, he retraced his course and made at last the harbor of Newport in Rhode Island. He spent three weeks there, and gave an accurate description. He had friendly intercourse with the natives, large numbers of whom visited his ship, exchanging commodities of various kinds, of whose character and customs he gave an account.

From this place, he sailed along the coast to Newfoundland, touching at various points, and holding communication with the inhabitants. Those whom he found on the northeastern part were much more hostile than those of Narraganset Bay. He says: “they clothe themselves in skins of bears, lynxes and other animals; their food is obtained by hunting and fishing and certain roots; …. The land appears sterile and unfit for growing of fruit or grain of any kind.” He adds, “we found here a more elevated country, full of very thick woods.” Further northeast, he says, “we found the country more pleasant and open, free from woods; and, distant in the interior, we saw lofty mountains, but none which extended to the shore.” This description indicates the coast of Maine, with the distant White Mountains, the most conspicuous objects as you approach from the sea. He returned to Dieppe in Normandy, in July of the same year.

In this letter to Francis I. Verazzani says: “My intention was to reach Cathay on the extreme coast of Asia, expecting, however, to find in the newly discovered land some such obstacles as they have proved to be, yet I did not doubt that I should penetrate, by some passage, to the eastern ocean.” We are thus furnished with additional proof, that we are indebted for the discovery of this portion of America at least, to the insatiate passion after the rich products of the East. Verazzani made a second voyage in the following year, from which he never returned. It was reported that he was killed by the natives, but no authentic account of his fate is known to exist.

The next series of voyages to the American coast, was undertaken by the French, and were different in their plan and purpose from every previous one. They had been led by the great success of their fisheries to consider planting colonies. To accomplish this, Jacques Cartier, under orders of Francis sailed from St. Malo in France, April 20, 1534, with two vessels, both under 60 tons, and arrived at Newfoundland in 28 days. He spent three months exploring the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and gave names to prominent points, which they still retain.

In May of the next year, 1535, Cartier sailed for a second time, with three vessels and 110 men, well equipped and provisioned. He entered the St. Lawrence River, of which he was the first European discoverer, and proceeded with his fleet as high up as the isle of Orleans. Having decided to winter in the country, he moored his vessels in the river St. Charles, under the shadow of the heights now occupied by the city of Quebec, at the base of which was the large Indian village named Stadacona. From this point Cartier, with a pinnace and two long boats, proceeded up the river to the famed village of Hochelaga, now Montreal, which he reached October 2^nd. He ascended the mountain, which overhung the village, and enjoyed the magnificent scenery that still delights the numerous tourists who visit the spot. He gave to the place the name of Mount Real, or Royal Mountain, which is perpetuated in the name of the city which adorns the site of the aboriginal town. He returned to his fleet on the 11^th of October, and after a severe winter, and the loss of twenty-five of his crew, he left his anchorage in May and proceeded homeward, arriving at St. Malo on the 6^th of July, 1536. He took with him the Indian chief Donnacona, and nine other natives, whom he abducted, whose strange and novel appearance made a great sensation in France.

In 1541, Cartier made a second voyage to the scene of his former discovery, with a large and better appointed fleet, and with liberal appliances for establishing a colony in this new domain. This expedition was fitted out under the leadership of La Roche, Lord Roberval, who by some mischance did not accompany Cartier; but who followed the next year with a portion of the fleet intended for the joint operations. Cartier, without waiting for orders from his chief, proceeded directly to his former anchorage, penetrated still farther up the St. Lawrence, even over the rapids of Lachine, built a fort above Quebec, and spent another winter in the country. Roberval did not join Cartier as he expected, and Cartier commenced his return voyage in the spring of 1542. At Newfoundland, he found Roberval with two large vessels and 200 persons, well supplied with provisions and other means to reinforce his colony and to continue the occupation of the country. But Cartier, for some unexplained reason, abandoned the enterprise and returned home, leaving Roberval to pursue his own voyage.

Roberval, a man of energy and talent, was not discouraged by Cartier’s desertion and entered the great river, explored the adjoining country, built a fort, and made preparations for founding a permanent colony. But his companions, many of whom were from the higher classes of society, were unaccustomed to the rigor of this northern climate and found the winter too long and severe. Many died, and the rest, discouraged, returned to France in 1543. In 1549, Roberval undertook another voyage to accomplish the unfinished work, but perished with all his company.

Thus terminated for the remainder of the 16^th century all efforts by the French to establish their dominion in this part of the new world, to which they had proudly given the title of New France. Their first permanent success was not realized until the beginning of the 17^th century, under the Sieur de Mont and Samuel Champlain, the latter of whom not only made extensive discoveries, and established French nationality in this country, but illustrated his works by his pen, and left an imperishable name in the annals of history.

It was upon the discoveries of Verazzani and those of Cartier and Roberval, and their attempts at colonization, that France claimed title to the whole Atlantic coast from Florida to the Gulf of St. Lawrence; and the vexed and irritating question was never settled, until the whole country came into possession of the English, by the peace of Paris in 1763. And although the English, early in the 17^th century, dotted the whole coast from Cape Hatteras to the Penobscot with their colonies, except New York, pre-occupied by the Dutch, yet the earlier proclamation of New France was not without force, and had solid ground to stand upon.

The reign of Henry VIII., and of his son Edward, and daughter Mary, passed without any movement, even towards a discovery of the long desired passage to Cathay by the northwest. Sebastian Cabot, living through these reigns, and never ceased to proclaim his unwavering faith in its existence and, although some others also believed that such a passage must exist, yet neither the government nor individuals were willing to invest in it. It was not until the reign of Elizabeth was half spent, that prominent parties were induced once more to engage in the adventure. Among these persons were the Earls of Leicester and Pembroke, and other noblemen and gentlemen, who, in the name of the Company of Cathay, fitted out an expedition, and placed it under the command of Martin Frobisher as Captain General and Admiral of the ships.

He sailed in June, 1576, with two barks, neither of which exceeded 25 tons—less than the common mackerel fishers of our time—and a pinnace of 10 tons, to make a voyage of Northern discovery!

Frobisher came no farther south than Newfoundland. He discovered the strait between Labrador and Greenland which bears his name, which he penetrated a short distance, and brought home a quantity of earth and sand which he supposed to be gold bearing. This so excited the adventurers, and the curiosity of the people that a new and a much larger expedition was fitted out. The Queen contributed £1,000 to the enterprise, with the express purpose of loading the ships with this golden earth. All thoughts of Cathay were abandoned, and their minds were filled with dreams of a golden harvest. The vessels in due time returned, laden with the precious mineral. Assayers from the continent were procured, and all the processes known in that day were employed to turn it into cash. While the process was going on, a new fleet was equipped, and Frobisher made his third and last voyage in 1578 for still more of the coveted material. But tempest and shipwreck sunk and scattered the fleet, and those that were saved returned in a forlorn condition, having entirely failed in their object. In the meantime, the cargoes of earth, after protracted tests, were found to be worthless, and the hope and glory and wealth vanished. Nothing was left but recriminations and quarrels.

The next attempts to solve this perplexing problem of the Northwest Passage, and to establish colonies on the American shore, were made by members of the Gilbert and Raleigh family. These were Sir Humphrey Gilbert, Sir Walter Raleigh, his half-brother Adrian, and the Raleigh Gilbert.

Humphrey Gilbert and Walter Raleigh were men of noble and daring, as well as being scholars. Gilbert, in 1566, petitioned the Queen to allow him to seek a passage to Cathay, which he was confident existed, with certain privileges to be granted to him. He followed this the next year with another petition, setting forth the conditions upon which he would undertake the discovery at his own cost. Nothing came of this. In 1576, he published a discourse to prove the existence of a passage by the northwest to Cathay. He contributed to Frobisher’s voyages and, in 1579, under a liberal charter for colonization, he embarked to take possession of the country which had been assigned to him, Raleigh heartily assisting his efforts. But by dissensions and other mischances the voyage was broken up and was not resumed until 1583, when a new fleet of five ships was equipped, well manned and prepared to take possession of the country for England. He sailed from Plymouth in June, and on August 3^rd, he entered the harbor of St. John’s. Then, notwithstanding the opposition of the foreign fishermen, he proclaimed title and set up a monument, inscribed with the arms of England as a testimonial of sovereignty over 200 leagues shoreline. The charter defined no particular territory, but “gave him free liberty and license to discover, find, search out and view, such remote, heathen and barbarous lands, not actually possessed by any Christian prince or people, as to him shall seem good.”

In August, Sir Humphrey wrote: “Of the Newfoundland I will say nothing until my next letter. Be of good cheer, for if there were no better expectations it were a very rich demesne, the country being very good and full of all sorts of victual as fish of fresh water and sea fish. Deer, Pheasants, partridges, swans and divers fowls.” Alas! No other letter came from him! Insubordination among his crew and other circumstances induced him to retrace his way and, abandoning one of his vessels, he left the island and proceeding as far south as Penobscot Bay. He encountered a September gale which wrecked his largest vessel, in which 100 men perished, whereupon he changed his course homeward. Embarking himself, in the pinnace of ten tons, scarcely larger than a common sailboat, he was carried down at midnight with his whole company. The Hind, the only surviving ship, returned in a crippled condition to her anchorage, in late September. No colony was left, and the possession, so formally taken, was abortive.

In looking back over the century which we have been rapidly surveying, it is sad to reflect how many noble lives perished, and what a vast amount of wealth was spent, in attempts to explore the northern regions of this continent from its first discovery to find this visionary and useless passage to India.

This century, so prolific in speculation, adventure, and disaster, came to its close with the further efforts of Sir Walter Raleigh. Having obtained a charter from Queen Elizabeth in 1584, with powers and privileges similar to those granted to his brother-in-law, Gilbert, Raleigh fitted out an expedition. Admonished by the disasters of a northern voyage, he sought in the south a milder climate. On the 13^th of September, 1584, his fleet entered Ocracock Inlet in North Carolina where he opened intercourse with the natives, examined the surrounding islands and bays, and returned home in September with glowing accounts of the climate, the country, and their pleasant discoveries.

The associates were so encouraged by these animating reports that the next year they fitted out a larger expedition, consisting of seven ships, with a colony of 108 persons, under command of skilful leaders, and with the necessary materials for planting a colony. But this effort, and a succeeding one in 1587, though well-appointed in all particulars, utterly failed. Among the reasons were the ill treatment of the natives, their eager pursuit of gold to the neglect of the cultivation of the soil, and the mercenary conduct of the commander of the expeditions. The discovery of the Chesapeake Bay had been made on the second voyage, and the neglect of the leader of the third voyage to establish his colony on its beautiful shores, as he had been instructed to do, was among the causes of its fatal result. The whole party which was left in the country on each of the two last visits, waiting long expected succor, miserably perished; their bones only remaining to speak of the fearful tragedy.

Thus closed the 16^th century, more than a hundred years after the discovery of this continent, and not a single colony, nor a single European remained on its whole Atlantic coast.

Nova Scotia Coal Country in 1892, and the Year of the Mice (1815)

From the blog at http://JohnWood1946.wordpress.com

Now in Twitter @JohnWoodTweets

Today’s blog post presents a description of the area between Pictou and New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, from Forest, Stream and Seashore, published by the Intercolonial Railway in 1892. The objective of the book was to describe the country in as colorful and favourable a light as possible, and to thereby to attract tourists to the railway.

In Pictou, Nova Scotia in about 1895
From the McCord Museum

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Nova Scotia Coal Country in 1892, and the Year of the Mice (1815)

Among the Coal Fields

Stellarton, forty-one miles from Truro, is one of the notable places in the Pictou coal field, and is the oldest in respect to mining, for the Albion mines were first operated more than seventy years ago. There are other mines in this part of the country, however, such as the Drummond and Acadia collieries at Westville, three miles from Stellarton, on the branch line leading to Pictou, and the Vale colliery at Thorburn, six miles from New Glasgow.

This is a coal country. Nobody knows how much of a deposit there is in Nova Scotia. Geologists have made estimates in regard to the areas of which they have knowledge, and not even the argus-eyed Old Subscriber, who keeps a scrapbook for the purpose of correcting the newspapers, has ever attempted to disprove their statements. Enough is known to show that the eastern part of the province, including Cape Breton, was not big enough to hold the immense deposit, and that if the seams were followed out under the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Atlantic Ocean fuel would be found in sufficient quantity to convert every iceberg of the Polar Sea into boiling water.

While one of the mines in Cape Breton actually extends under the sea the day is far distant when resort must be had to submarine mines because of the failure of those on the mainland. The pick has been plied since the French began the work at the Joggins and in Cape Breton, more than two centuries ago, and the mines could be worked to a much greater extent than they are without any fear of scarcity for centuries to come. The quantity raised in 1896 was 2,503,728 tons, and nobody doubts that very many more millions of tons remain for the workers of the future. According to the Statistical Year Book, the quantity is at least seven thousand millions of tons, and it may be much more.

The counties of Cumberland and Pictou are good neighbors for the county of Colchester, with its inexhaustible supply of iron. In the Pictou field, according to Sir William Logan, there are 5,567 feet of strata, containing one hundred and forty-one feet of coal, in sixteen beds, which vary in thickness from three to forty feet. The coal area of the province covers about six hundred and thirty-five square miles.

Nova Scotia is, accordingly, a very carboniferous sort of country, and coal seams are found in a great many places. The strata seen at the Joggins Mines, where the sea washes the cliffs, is said to be the best display of the kind in the world. Pictou shows a continuation of the same field—the great Nova Scotia coal field, with its seventy-six seams of coal and a thickness of no less than 14,750 feet of deposits. It took a long time for all this to form. It was so long ago that every kind of animal which roamed in the forests of the period has been extinct for thousands of years. Yes, the coal fields are pretty old; it took ages to form each one of the seams; and yet, when the fisherman barks his shins on the granite rocks of the Nepisiguit, on Baie de Chaleur, he feels something that is a good deal older. It may mitigate his wrath and repress his profanity to know that he is bruised by what was part of the bottom of an ocean “before a single plant had been called into existence of the myriads entombed in the coal deposits.” So it will be seen that coal is quite a parvenu, as compared with some of the geological families; but it is old enough for all practical purposes where man is concerned.

Rich as the Pictou coal field is, its area is only about thirty-five square miles. It is in the form of a basin, ten miles in its greatest diameter, and its coal deposit is enormous because of the thickness of the seams. The main seam at the Albion colliery is the thickest in the world.

The four collieries to which reference has been made employ nearly 1,400 men. In the Drummond, the average number of persons employed in the summer season is 500, and the daily output is 900 tons. The main slope is 4,200 feet deep. This mine was the scene of a fearful explosion in 1873, by which sixty-nine lives were lost. Another memorable disaster was that of the explosion at the Ford pit, Albion colliery, in 1880, when forty-two lives were lost. The waters of the East River were turned into the mine to extinguish the fire, and though much pumping has since been done only a portion of this part of the mine has been reclaimed. The bodies of those who were killed by the explosion rest where death overtook them a thousand feet below the surface of the earth. Other parts of the Albion are now being worked, and yield large returns.

One of the pioneer railways of America was that built from the Albion mine to Pictou landing, a distance of six miles. The work was begun in 1836 and the line opened in 1839. One of the most remarkable facts in this connection was that the road was built on what it required a generation of experience to learn was the standard gauge for all railways. The engine first used on this road was built by Hackworth, a competitor with Stephenson, and was in use at the mines up to 1885. It is now owned in the United States, where it was sold after being on exhibition at the World’s Fair in Chicago.

Pictou is fourteen miles from Stellarton by rail, and two miles beyond Stellarton, on the line going to Mulgrave, is New Glasgow, the commercial centre of this part of the country.

New Glasgow

The town of New Glasgow made a gain of over forty-five per cent, in its population in the ten years preceding 1891, and at anything like the same rate it must now be a place of nearly or quite 5,000 inhabitants. In the same period it increased its industrial establishments from forty to one hundred and twenty-three, multiplied the invested capital by six until it amounted to more than a million dollars, employed 1,100 men where there had been less than 400, and increased the value of its products from more than a third of a million dollars to more than one and a half million. It has continued to grow in the number and extent of its industries, and besides all that it has of itself it is the chief town in a manufacturing district which includes such important works as the blast furnaces at Ferrona, the steel works and steam forge at Trenton, to say nothing of the extensive collieries, of which mention has been made. There is no doubt New Glasgow is a very live place.

Some fine scenery is to be found in the vicinity of the town. Fraser’s Mountain, 350 feet high, is two miles from the post office, and from this height one may have a grand and comprehensive view of the country for a long distance. This view takes in a portion of Prince Edward Island, Pictou and Pictou Island, and shows the Strait of Canseau as far as Cape St. George, beyond which rise the mountains of Inverness, Cape Breton. Looking to the south, a beautiful farming view in all directions embraces hills, valleys and level country, dotted with the houses and churches of the outlying settlements. New Glasgow is close at hand, and among the other sights which attract the eye are Weaver’s Mountain, McLellan’s Mountain, the Vale Colliery, Trenton, Stellarton, Westville, Hopewell, Ferrona and Pictou. The river, with its serpentine windings, is a picturesque feature of the landscape.

One of the drives which will be found of interest is that to Stellarton, through the collieries, calling also at Middle River and winding up at Fitzpatrick’s Mountain, Green Hill. From the latter place the country can be seen in all directions for a distance of something like forty miles. A drive to Little Harbor, six or seven miles, and a bath in the salt water, will also have attractions for the pleasure seeker. At Sutherland’s River, six miles distant, is a fine waterfall with picturesque surroundings. A pleasant excursion may also be had by taking a sail to Pictou and returning by the railway through Westville and Stellarton. Those who are fond of fishing may spend a part of a day at McLellan’s Brook, four miles from the town, where some very good catches have been made.

Anno Murium, the Year of the Mice

Though one may no longer find any of the old inhabitants who remember the year of the mice, there are yet many who have heard their fathers tell of the remarkable events in that memorable period of the history of this part of Nova Scotia. The year in question was 1815, when an army of mice marched over Colchester, Pictou and Antigonish Counties, eating everything before it as it advanced. It was a veritable plague, as serious for a time as that of the frogs sent upon the land of Egypt, and which has had nothing to compare with it in the provinces in more recent times, with the exception of the invasion of the army worm. The incursion of the mice, however, seems to have been purely local in its character, though Prince Edward Island also had its experience, and had, indeed, known such visitations at an earlier period of its history. As long ago as 1690, Diérville wrote that the Island had a plague, either of mice or locusts, every seven years. This was evidently a traveler’s tale, but in respect to the mice it seems to have had some foundation in fact.

The farmers o£ Pictou and Antigonish, never having heard of such a plague, were taken very much by surprise when the mice made their appearance. According to Dr. Patterson’s History of Pictou County, the first evidence of the invasion was in the spring of the year, when the sugar makers were annoyed by finding numbers of drowned mice in the sap troughs in the maple woods. An occasional mouse meeting with such a fate would have made no trouble, and might even have improved the syrup and the sugar by giving it more of a body, but when so many rushed to their death as to crowd the troughs the sugar makers were alike amazed and alarmed.

The intruders were field mice of the largest kind, like half-grown rats, and they had a boldness more than proportioned to their size. They came from the woods, but how they got into the woods nobody has attempted to explain. Nobody knows where the mice started from, but their number increased day by day as the season advanced. By planting time they had taken possession of the fields and bade fair to put an end to fanning operations for the season. With added numbers they increased in boldness. They ate everything that mice can eat, and nearly ate up the people, for when molested they sat on their haunches and squealed defiance with their glistening teeth laid bare.

It took a brave dog to face a mob of them, and ordinary cats proved that good generalship is often shown by a timely and skillful retreat. Dr. Patterson is authority for the statement that a farmer attempted to sow four bushels of oats at Piedmont, and was disgusted to find that the mice ate them as fast as he sowed. Finding that his labor simply amounted to feeding part of a hungry horde, he finally got out of patience, threw all his oats at them and went home in intense disgust.

Spreading over the country as the season advanced, the mice devoured all before them. Acres were stripped of growing crops, and when food failed above the ground the diligent destroyers burrowed into the earth and consumed the seed potatoes and grain. Cats and dogs fought the invaders nobly, and even the martens came out of the woods to aid in the conflict, but with little apparent effect. Trenches were dug and filled with water, but the diggers had their labor for their pains. It became a question whether the mice or the people were to possess the country, and for a time the odds seemed in favor of the mice. The plague ceased when the cool weather came in the autumn. The army of occupation became demoralized, the fierce invaders grew languid and died by the thousand. They could be gathered in heaps, and their putrefying carcasses might be found in some places in such numbers as to taint the air. At Cape George they went to the water and there died, forming a ridge like seaweed along the edge of the sea, and codfish were caught off the coast with carcasses in their maws. So says the historian already quoted, and his words are confirmed by those who have heard the story from their fathers.

For many years after this remarkable visitation it was the custom of many of the people to reckon births, marriages, deaths, etc., as being such-and-such a time after the year of the mice. As succeeding generations grew up, this system of chronology became obsolete, and it has long since ceased to be known, save to the very oldest inhabitants.