CHAPTER XIX.
A Trip to the Uttawa.
Having spent a fortnight in the enjoyment of lovely scenery and warm hospitality, and taken a last and lingering gaze at the glorious panoramic view from the citadel, I embarked once more on the St. Lawrence. It was evening; and, as the moon rose bright and clear, the wooded banks and silvered stream formed as charming a picture as the eye of man could wish to rest upon. Morning found us at Montreal. Among my fellow-passengers were two members of the Cabinet, or Executive Council, Mr. Hincks and Mr. Drummond, both on their way to the Ottawa, the commercial importance of that river to the prosperity of the colony having induced them to take the trip with a view of ascertaining, by actual observation and examination, what steps were most advisable to improve its navigation.
My intention was to start at once for Kingston; but when they kindly asked me to accompany them, I joyfully accepted, and an hour after I landed at Montreal I was on the rail with my friends, hissing away to Lachine, where the chief office of the Hudson's Bay Company is fixed. There we embarked in a steamer on Lake St. Louis, which is a struggling compound of the dark brown Ottawa and the light blue St. Lawrence. The lake was studded with islands, and the scenery rendered peculiarly lovely by the ever-changing lights and shades from the rising sun. We soon left the St. Lawrence compound and reached that part of the Ottawa[[AQ]] which the poet has immortalized by his beautiful "Canadian Boat Song."
St. Anne's is a small village, and the rapids being impassable in low water they have built a lock to enable steamers to ascend; but fortunately, when we passed, there was sufficient water, and we steamed up the song-famed rapids, above which the river spreads out into the Lake of the Two Mountains. It is proposed to build a railway bridge for the main trunk line, just above the rapids. How utterly the whizzing, whistling kettle spoils the poetry of scenery, undeniable though its utility be! There is no doubt that the Lake of the Two Mountains has many great beauties; but, whatever they may be, a merciless storm of rain effectually curtained them from us, and we traversed the whole lake to Point Fortune in a mist worthy of the Western Highlands. There we took coach, as the locks at Carillon are not yet large enough for full-sized steamers to pass. The road was alike good and uninteresting, running by the side of the canal, whose banks were here and there enlivened by groups of wild flowers.
A stage of twelve miles brought us to Grenville, where we again took steamer on the Ottawa, and, the weather being finer, we had an opportunity of enjoying the scenery, which is very peculiar. It has none of the wild features of grandeur which one associates with comparatively unknown streams, in a country where all is gigantesque. There is nothing mountainous or craggy, but the banks and hills at the back being luxuriously wooded, and conveying the idea of being well tenanted, the absence of human habitations seems unnatural, and gives the solitude an air of mystery, only broken at long intervals by a bowered cottage or a wreath of smoke. The most remarkable building is the French château of M. Papineau, very prettily situated on the northern bank, commanding an extensive view of the river, and looking in its isolation as though its occupant was a second Robinson Crusoe, and monarch of all he surveyed. Night soon buried all scenery in its sable mantle, and, after sixty miles steaming, we reached Bytown, where we found friends and conveyances ready to take us over to Aylmer, there to sleep preparatory to a further excursion up the river early in the morning. As the distance was only eight miles, we were soon at Mr. Egan's hospitable board, from which we speedily retired to rest, so as to be ready for the morrow's trip.
Early dawn found us on hoard and steaming merrily up the glorious stream, which, spreading out very widely, has been lakefied, and is called Lake Chaudière and Du Chêne, thus named, I suppose, because the water is cold and there are few oaks to be seen. Be that as it may, the scenery, though possessing neither striking features nor variety, is very pretty and cheerful. A quantity of lovely little villas stud the banks, some ensconced snugly in cosy nooks, others standing out boldly upon the rich greensward; and, for a background, you have full-bosomed hills, rich in forest monarchs, clad in their dense and dark mantles. Suddenly the scene changes, the Chats Falls burst upon the sight; and well does the magnificent view repay the traveller for any difficulty he may have had in his endeavours to reach this spot. About three miles above the rocky and well-wooded island that creates the falls, the river contracts very considerably, and in its rushing impetuosity seems as though it were determined to sweep the whole island into the lake below; then there appears to have been a compromise between the indignant stream and the obstinate island, and the latter seems to have offered up a great portion of its timber at the shrine of Peace, and to have further granted various rights of way to its excited neighbour. The river seems to have taken advantage of both these concessions very largely, but it appears that in nature, as it often occurs in politics, concessions only breed increased demands, and the ungrateful Ottawa, while sweeping away forest timber and baring the granite rock in a dozen different channels, thunders its foaming waters along with an angry voice, ever crying "More, more."
I never saw anything more beautiful than these falls. They are generally from twenty to forty feet broad, and about the same in height; but from the shape of the island you cannot see them all at once; and as you steam along there is a continual succession of them, each revealing some new beauty. It was at this place that I, for the first time, saw a slide for the descent of lumber, to which I shall have to refer hereafter. For many years the porterage of goods across this island to the Ottawa above—which is called Lake Chats—was a work of much difficulty and expense. Mr. E., with that enterprise and energy which mark his character, got two friends of kindred spirit to join him, and made a railway across, about three miles and a half long. It is a single line, constructed upon piles, and the car is rattled over at a jolly pace by two spicy ponies. As the piles are in some places from twenty to thirty feet in the air, it looks nervous work; and if one of the ponies bolted, it might produce a serious accident; but they seem aware of the danger, and trot away as steadily as an engine, if not quite so rapidly.
On reaching the north-western end of the island, another steamer was waiting for us, and we again breasted the stream of the Ottawa. After passing the first three miles, which, as before mentioned, are very narrow, and thus produce that additional impetus which ends in the lovely Chats Falls, the river opens out into the Lake. The shores are low and with a gentle rise, and there is comparatively little appearance of agricultural activity, the settler having found the ground at the back of the rise better suited for farming purposes.
Some distance up the lake, and close to its margin, is the farm of Mr. McDonnell, thus forming an exception to the general rule. His residence is an excessively pretty cottage, commanding a grand panoramic view. Here we stopped to pay a visit to the energetic old Highlander and his family, and to enjoy his hospitalities. If he is to be taken as a specimen of the salubrity of the climate, I never saw so healthy a place. He came here as a lad to push his fortunes, with nothing but a good axe and a stout heart. He has left fifty summers far behind him; he looks the embodiment of health, and he carries his six feet two inches in a way that might well excite the envy of a model drill-sergeant; and when he took my hand to welcome me, I felt all my little bones scrunching under his iron grasp, as if they were so many bits of pith.
I could not help contrasting the heartiness of his welcome with the two stiff fingers which in highly-civilized life are so often proffered either from pride or indifference; and though he did very nearly make me cry "Enough!" I would a thousand times rather suffer and enjoy his hearty grasp than the cold formality of conventional humbug. The hardy old pioneer has realized a very comfortable independence, and he told me his only neighbours were a band of his countrymen at the back of the hill, who speak Gaelic exclusively and scarce know a word of English. They mostly came out with "The Macnab," but from time to time they are refreshed by arrivals from the Old Country.
Having a long day's work before us, we were enabled to make but a short stay, so, bidding him and his family a sincere good-bye and good speed, we renewed our journey. We soon came in sight of the black stumpy monuments of one of the most disastrous conflagrations which ever victimized a forest. Some idea may be formed of the ravages of the "devouring element," from the simple fact that it all but totally consumed every stick of timber covering a space of forty-five miles by twenty-five; and the value of what was thus destroyed may be partially estimated, when it is considered that one good raft of timber is worth from three to five thousand pounds. These rafts, which are seen dotted about the lake in every direction, have a very pretty effect, with their little distinguishing flags floating in the breeze, some from the top of a pole, some from the top of the little shanty in which their hardy navigators live; and a dreary, fatiguing, and dangerous career it must be; but Providence, in his mercy, has so constituted man, that habit grows into a new nature; and these hardy sons of creation sing as merrily, smile as cheerfully, smoke as calmly, and unquestionably sleep as soundly, as any veteran in idleness, though pampered with luxuries, and with a balance at his banker's which he is at a loss how to squander.
These sons of toil bear practical testimony to the truth of what the late lamented Sir J. Franklin always declared to be his conviction, from long experience, viz., that the use of spirits is enfeebling rather than invigorating to those who have to work in the most severe climates. The Lumberers are nearly all teetotallers, and I am told they declare that they find their health bettered, their endurance strengthened, their muscles hardened, and their spirits enlivened by the change. If this be so, and if we find that the natives of warm climates are, as a mass, also teetotallers, and that when they forsake their temperance colours they deteriorate and eventually disappear, I fear we must come to the conclusion, that however delicious iced champagne or sherry-cobbler may be, or however enjoyable "a long pull at the pewter-pot," they are not in any way necessary to health or cheerfulness, and that, like all actions, they have their reactions, and thus create a desire for their repetition, until by habit they become a second nature, to the great comfort and consolation of worthy wine-merchants and fashionable medical men, whose balance-sheets would suffer about equally by the discontinuance of their use; not to mention the sad effects of their misuse, as daily exhibited in police reports and other features, if possible worse, which the records of "hells" would reveal.
So strong does the passion become, that I know of a lady who weighs nearly a ton, and is proud of displaying more of her precious substance than society generally approves of, in whom the taste "for a wee drop" is so strong, that, to enable her to gratify it more freely, she has the pleasure of paying two medical men a guinea each daily, to stave off as long as they can its insidious attacks upon her gigantic frame. You must not, however, suppose that I am a teetotaller. I have tried it, and never found myself better than while practising it; still I never lose a chance if a bottle of iced champagne is circulating, for I confess—I love it dearly.
Pardon this digression.—We are again on the Ottawa; as we advance, the river narrows and becomes studded with little islands covered with wild shrubs and forest trees, from whose stiff unyielding boughs the more pliant shoots droop playfully into the foaming stream below, like the children of Gravity coquetting with the family of Passion. Of course these islands form rapids in every direction: we soon, approach the one selected as the channel in which to try our strength. On we dash boldly—down rushes the stream with a roar of defiance; arrived midway, a deadly struggle ensues between boiling water and running water; we tremble in the balance of victory—the rushing waters triumph; we sound a retreat, which is put in practice with the caution of a Xenophon, and down we glide into the stiller waters below.
Poke the fires,—pile the coals! Again we dash onwards—again we reach midway—again the moment of struggle—again the ignominy of defeat—again the council of war in the stiller waters below. We now summon all our energies, determined that defeat shall but nerve us to greater exertion. We go lower down, so as to obtain greater initial velocity; the fires are made to glow one spotless mass of living heat. Again the charge is sounded: on we rush, our little boat throbbing from stem to stern; again the angry waters roar defiance—again the deadly struggle—again for a moment we tremble in the balance of victory. Suddenly a universal shout of triumph is heard, and as the joyous cheers die in echoes through the forest, we are breasting the smoother waters of the Ottawa above the rapids.
This is all very well on paper, but I assure you it was a time of intense excitement to us; if in the moment of deadly struggle the tiller ropes had broken, or the helmsman had made one false turn of the wheel, we might have got across the boiling rapids, and then good-bye to sublunary friends; our bones might have been floating past Quebec before the news of our destruction had reached it.
The Ottawa is by no means the only channel in these parts for conveying the produce of the lumberer's toil: there are tributaries innumerable, affording hundreds of miles of raft navigation; so that an almost indefinite field for their labour is open, and years, if not centuries, must elapse before the population can increase sufficiently to effect any very material inroad on these all but inexhaustible forests.
After proceeding a few miles beyond the scene of our late severe struggle, we reached the little village of Portage du Fort, above which the rapids are perfectly impassable. The inhabitants of this little wild forest community are not very numerous, as may be supposed, and the only object of interest is a flour-mill, which supplies the lumberers for many miles, both above and below. Our little steamer being unable to ascend higher, we were compelled to make a Scotchman's cruise of it—"There and bock agin." So, turning our head eastward, we bowled along merrily with the stream, dashing down our late antagonist like a flash of lightning, then across the lake, and through a fleet of bannered rafts, till we landed on the Chats Falls Island, where we found our ponies ready to whisk us along the mid-air railway. Re-embarking on the steamer of the morning, we found a capital dinner ready for us, and ere the shades of evening had closed in, we were once more enjoying the hospitalities of Aylmer.
Aylmer has only a population of 1100 inhabitants, but they are not idle. The house of Mr. E. does business with the lumberers to the tune of 200,000l. annually, and supplies them with 15,000 lb. of tea every year. Grog-shops are at a discount in these parts. The increasing prosperity of this neighbourhood is mainly owing to the energy and enterprise of Mr. Egan and his friend M. Aumond. It was by these two gentlemen that the steam-boats were put on the lakes, and the rail made across the island. Everybody feels how much the facility of conveyance has increased the prosperity of this locality; and the value of Mr. E.'s services is honourably recognised, by his unopposed election as the representative of the district. Having had a good night's rest, and taken in a substantial breakfast, we started off on our return to Bytown, which city may he considered as the headquarters of the lumberers.
The ground upon which the greater part of Bytown stands was offered some years since to a servant, as payment for a debt of 70l.; he found the bargain so bad, that he tried to get out of it. The value of the same land is now estimated at 200,000l.!!! As late as 1826, there was not one stone put upon another; now the population is 10,000, and steadily increasing. Nothing can exceed the beauty of the panoramic view from the verge of the Barrack Hill, which is a dark, frowning, perpendicular rock several hundred feet high. To the west are the Chaudière Falls, 200 feet broad and 60 feet high, irregular in shape, and broken here and there by rocks, around which the rapids leap in unceasing frenzy, ere they take their last plunge into the maddened gulf below, thence rolling their dark waters beneath your feet. Below the falls the river is spanned by a very light and beautiful suspension-bridge. This part of the scene is enlivened by the continual descent of timber-rafts rushing down the slides, skilfully guided by their hardy and experienced navigators. Around you is a splendid expanse of waving field and sombre forest, far as the eye can stretch, and bounded towards the north by mountains looming and half lost in distance, whence comes the mighty Gatineau—a watery highway for forest treasure, threading its course like a stream of liquid silver as the sun's rays dance upon its bosom,—the whole forming one of the most beautiful panoramas imaginable.
No place was ever better calculated for the capital of a great country. Bordering upon Upper and Lower Canada, only twelve hours from Montreal, easily capable of defence, with a trade increasing in value as rapidly as the source thereof is inexhaustible, at the confluence of two rivers whose banks are alike rich in timber and arable land—requiring but nineteen miles of lockage to unite the St. Lawrence, the Ottawa, and the Gatineau with the boundless inland lakes of America—possessing the magnificent Rideau Canal, which affords a ready transport down to Kingston on Lake Ontario—rich with scenery, unsurpassed in beauty and grandeur, and enjoying a climate as healthy as any the world can produce,—Nature seems to have marked out Bytown as the site for a Canadian metropolis. In short, were I a prophet instead of a traveller, I should boldly predict that such it must be some day, if Canada remain united and independent.
I must here explain the slides for lumber, before alluded to. In days gone by, all lumber was shot down the rapids, to find its way as best it could, the natural consequence being that large quantities were irrecoverably lost. It occurred to Mr. Wright that this waste of toil and timber might be obviated, and he accordingly, after great labour and expense, succeeded in inventing what is termed a slide—in other words, an inclined wooden frame—upon which a certain number of the huge logs that compose a portion of a raft can be floated down together in perfect security, under the guidance of one or two expert men. The invention answered admirably, as is proved by the fact that, through its instrumentality, timber which formerly took two seasons to reach Quebec, now does so in five months. Like many other inventors, I fear Mr. Wright has not received justice at the hands of the Government, who, by building slides of their own, and granting advantages to those who use them, have thus removed the traffic from Mr. Wright's—an injustice which it is to be hoped it is not too late to repair; at all events, the Imperial Legislature, which felt bound to vote 4000l. to a man that invented a machine for making little holes between penny stamps, on the ground of commercial utility, must agree with me that it is unworthy of a lumbering colony to neglect the claims of a man whose invention has proved to be a benefit to the lumber trade, absolutely beyond calculation.
The chief proprietor at Bytown is the Hon. Mr. Mackay, and of his career in Canada he may indeed be justly proud. Arriving in the country as a labourer without a friend, he has, by his integrity and intellectual capability, fought his way up nobly to the highest position in the colony, and is one of the most respected members of the Legislative Council. Nor has he, while battling for senatorial honours, neglected his more material interests, and the energy he has brought to bear upon them has been rewarded to his heart's desire. He has a charming little country place, called Rideau Hall, about three miles out of town, and is the owner of several carding, saw, and flour mills, besides an extensive cloth factory, from the produce of which I am at this moment most comfortably clad. Mr. Mackay's career may fairly be termed a useful colonial monument, to encourage the aspirations of noble ambition, and to scourge the consciences of those drones who always see "a lion in the way." We had the pleasure of enjoying his hospitalities at a grand breakfast which he gave in honour of my two travelling friends, who were, I believe, the first members of the Executive Council that had been here for very many years.
One object of their present visit was to ascertain, from personal observation and inquiry, how far it was desirable the Government should grant money for the purpose of making any of the locks requisite to connect the Ottawa, &c., with Montreal and Quebec. I cannot for an instant doubt their being most thoroughly convinced both of its perfect practicability and of its immense importance. It only requires the construction of nineteen miles of canal, to complete an unbroken water communication from Quebec to the Ottawa and all its gigantic tributaries, extending even to Lake Temiscaming; and if a canal were cut from this latter to Lake Nipissing, the communication would then be complete through the heart of Canada across all the inland ocean waters of the American continent, and thence to New York viâ Erie Canal and Hudson, or to New Orleans viâ Illinois Canal, River, and Mississippi. Already 50,000l. have been, voted for this purpose, and this first instalment is mainly due to the energy of Mr. Egan. As a mark of respect for their representative, he was to be honoured with a public dinner, at which my two companions of the Executive Council were to attend. Unfortunately, my time was limited, and I was obliged to decline participating in the compliment which Mr. Egan had so well earned; so, bidding adieu to my friends, and casting one last and lingering glance at that glorious panorama—the remembrance of which time can never efface, I got into an open shay, and began prosecuting my solitary way towards Prescott.
I left the hotel as the guests were all arriving, and the fumes of the coming feast proclaiming in the most appetizing way the object of their meeting. I had two hours' daylight still left, and thus was enabled to see a little of that part of the neighbourhood, which alone was concealed when standing on the Barrack-hill. The more I saw of it, the more convinced was I of the peculiar adaptation of Bytown for a great city; the ground is admirably suited for building, and possesses a water-power which is inexhaustible. My road, as may naturally be supposed in a new country, lay through alternations of forest and cultivation; if it was not well macadamized, at least it was far better than I had expected, and there is some pleasure in being agreeably disappointed, and able to jog along without eternally bumping in some deep rut, which shakes the ash off your cigar inside your waistcoat. Here and there, of course, I came across a break-neck tract, but that only made the contrast more enjoyable.
At half-past twelve at night the little horses began to feel the effects of six hours' work, so I stopped at a tolerably miserable wayside inn for four hours, which was distributed between washing, feeding, and sleeping. Sharp work, but I was anxious to catch the steamer; so, snatching what rest I could out of that brief period, and hoping the horses had done the same, I was again en route at 5 A.M., and by great exertions reached Prescott in good time to learn that the steamer had started half an hour before my arrival. I consoled myself, as well as I could, with a washing basin, a teapot, and auxiliaries. I then went to look at the town, which consists of about three streets, and 3000 inhabitants; so that operation was accomplished without trouble, interest, or much loss of time. Ascertaining that if I went over to Ogdensburg, I could catch a steamer at 2 P.M., I ferried across instanter, wishing to get a look at Brother Jonathan's town before starting. A comparison between the two was not flattering to my national vanity. Instead of finding a population of 3000, with no indication of progress, I found a population of 8000, with go-aheadism in all quarters; large houses, large streets, and active prosperity stamped on everything. Doubtless this disparity is greatly owing to the railway, by which the latter is connected with the whole State of New York, and also from the want of reciprocity. Nevertheless, there is a stamp of energy at Ogdensburg, which the most careless observer cannot but see is wanting at Prescott.
Mr. Parish is the great proprietor at the former of these towns, and is said to be a man of considerable wealth, which he appears to be employing alike usefully and profitably—viz., in reclaiming from the lake a piece of land, about four hundred square yards, adjoining the railway terminus, by which means vessels will be able to unload readily on his new wharf; the reclaimed ground will thereby acquire an enormous value for storehouses.
Having finished my observations, and been well baked by a vertical sun, I embarked at 2 P.M. Lovely weather and lovely scenery.
The village of Brockville is very prettily situated on the banks of the lake, and is considered one of the prettiest towns in Canada. Continuing our course, numberless neat little villages and lovely villas appear from time to time; but when fairly on the Lake of The Thousand Isles, the scenery is altogether charming, and some new beauty is constantly bursting into view. Upon the present occasion the scene was rendered more striking by the perfect reflection of all the islands upon the burnished bosom of the glassy lake. We reached Cape Vincent towards evening, and, changing into another steamer, landed safely at Kingston about ten at night, where, finding a young artillery friend, I was soon immersed in that most absorbing of all pleasures to one long from home—viz., talking over old friends and old scenes, until you feel as though you were among both of them. Night, however, has its claims upon man, and, being honest, I discharged my obligation by going to bed as the tell-tale clock struck three.
Kingston is but a small place, though once of considerable importance. The population is about 12,000. In the year 1841, Lord Sydenham having removed the seat of Government from Toronto to Kingston, the inhabitants expended large sums of money in the expectation that it would so continue; but, in 1844, it was removed back again, and consequently a very heavy loss was incurred by those who had laid out their money. It is this eternal shifting about of the seat of Government—the disadvantage of which must be manifest to every one—that makes me hope Bytown, the position of which is so central, may some day be decided upon as the city to enjoy that honour permanently. However much Kingston may be recovering itself, and I was told it is, I must confess that, despite its cathedral, colleges, university, and other fine buildings, which it undoubtedly possesses, the grass in the streets and lanes, the pigs and the cows feeding about in all directions, made me feel ashamed, especially when I thought of young Ogdensburg, which I had so lately left. Taking into consideration the extent of lake communication which it enjoys, and that by the magnificent Rideau Canal the whole country of the Ottawa is open to it, I must say that I consider the state of Kingston the strongest reflection upon the energy and enterprise of the population. The finest view is from the citadel, which commands a splendid panoramic expanse; the fortifications are in good repair, and garrisoned by Canadian Rifles and a few Royal Artillerymen. One of the objects I should have had most interest in visiting was the Provincial Penitentiary, the arrangements of which, I had heard, were admirable; but, as I had no time to see them, the reader is saved the details.
At 3 P.M., I was again steaming away on Lake Ontario, which soon spreads out into an open sea. The boat was tolerably good and clean, and the food to match, but it was served down below; the cabin was therefore very stuffy. I selected a bed with great care, and in due time got into it, quite delighted with my carefully-chosen position, and soon buried my nose in the pillow, full of peaceful hopes. Luckless mortal! scarce had my nose extracted the cold from its contact with the pillow-case, when a sound came rushing forth with a violence which shook not only me and my bed, but the whole cabin. The tale is soon told. I had built my nest at the muzzle of the whistle of the engine, and, as they made a point of screeching forth the moment anything appeared in sight, you may guess that I had a pleasant night of it, and have scrupulously avoided repeating the experiment in any subsequent steam excursions. Having nobody to blame but myself, I lost the little satisfaction I might have had in abusing somebody else, and calling him a stupid ass for making such a choice. However, as a matter of justice, I abused myself, and the point being beyond dispute, no rejoinder was put in. Pleased with the candour of my confession, I caught such snatches of rest as the engineer and his whistle in mercy vouchsafed me—the next morning we were in Toronto.
NOTE.—The Bytown mentioned in the foregoing chapter is now called Ottawa, and is a candidate, in conjunction with Montreal and Toronto, for the honour of permanent metropolitanism.
FOOTNOTES:
Originally Uttàwa, wherein Moore has shown alike his good taste and respect for antiquity by adhering to the original and more beautiful name.