Canadian Scenery, Volume 2 (of 2)

by Nathaniel Parker Willis

Windsor, Nova Scotia.
FROM THE RESIDENCE OF JUDGE HALIBURTON, AUTHOR OF SAM SLICK.

The approach to the town of Windsor, from the western road, is by a handsome wooden bridge, recently constructed over the river Avon, which was formerly crossed by means of an inconvenient and unsafe ford, passable only at low water. The Avon takes its rise in the extensive lakes that lie between Chester and Windsor; but, though navigable for some miles above the latter place, it would be little better than a large brook, were it not for the augmentation it receives from the flow of the tide from the Bason of Minas, which occasions an extraordinary rise and fall of the river at Windsor; being about thirty feet at spring tides. The Avon receives the Kennetcook, Cockmagon, and the St. Croix rivers, a short distance below Windsor, and discharges their united streams into the Bason of Minas. The country in the neighbourhood of the town is exceedingly beautiful, being agreeably diversified with hill, dale, and lawn. The luxuriance of the meadows,—the chain of high hills on the south and west, clothed with wood of variegated foliage,—and the white sails of vessels gliding through the serpentine windings of the Avon and St. Croix,—are amongst the leading features of this interesting landscape. Windsor is an extremely neat and pretty town, with a Protestant church, and Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and Roman Catholic chapels. The private houses are numerous and tastefully built, and have, with few exceptions, large gardens and orchards attached to them. On an elevated and beautiful spot of ground, a short distance from the town, stands the University of King’s College, which has the power of bestowing degrees, similar to those granted by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. The View of Windsor, shown in the accompanying engraving, was taken from a spot near the residence of Judge Haliburton,—better known in the world of letters on both sides of the Atlantic, as the author of the humorous “Sayings and Doings of Sam Slick,” the first work that ever truly delineated that most singularly amusing character—a Down-East dealer—and gave us a correct picture of the quaint, shrewd, impudent, but good-humoured Yankee, in all his striking originality of thought and action.

The Residence of Judge Haliburton.
(Author of Sam Slick.)
To whom this Plate is respectfully inscribed by the Publisher.

The spectator, in this view, is supposed to be looking down the river Avon, towards the bay: beneath him is seen the picturesque town, with its new bridge; and in the distance, the winding shores, to which the rich woods and cultivated farms give a diversified and beautiful appearance. The Residence of Judge Haliburton is a small but elegant structure, delightfully situated on an eminence, which, as I have just observed, commands a noble prospect of the whole township. This charming retreat is surrounded by thriving plantations of beech, white maple, poplar, juniper, and other ornamental trees. Fruits of the most delicate kinds are produced in the garden; indeed, the sheltered situation of Windsor is peculiarly favourable for raising the tender produce of more genial climates. Mr. Haliburton remarks, that “peaches, though subject, from the early blossoms they put forth, to be injured by frosts, have been known to ripen without artificial aid or even common shelter; and grapes, pears, and quinces, and a great variety of summer and autumnal plums, arrive at perfection in all ordinary seasons.”

The communication between Halifax and New Brunswick is maintained by means of steam packets, which ply between St. John and Windsor, from which latter place there is an excellent mail-coach road to Halifax. The passage across the Bay of Fundy, and through the Bason of Minas, is said to be rather dangerous, owing to the rapid tides, the rocky shores, and the fogs which prevail on these coasts.

Cape Blowmedon and Parrsboro’.

The Bason of Minas is one of the most remarkable and beautiful inlets in North America. Its entrance is through a strait about three miles in width, with bold craggy shores. Outside this strait, the tides in the Bay of Fundy are rapid but regular; but within, the rise of the tide is greater than in any other part of America; in spring tides it flows to the height of seventy feet in the narrow part of the bason. The phenomenon called the Bore is an attendant or rather precursor of the flood tide, which approaches in a line of foam, extending across the bay about four or five feet high, and rolling over the sands at the rate of four miles, or upwards, an hour. The appearance of the shores of the Bason of Minas, while sailing towards its entrance, is exceedingly beautiful:—the luxuriant woods, lagoons, hills, dales, bays, rivers and headlands, the numerous picturesque islands, the extensive farms, verdant prairies, and thriving villages which meet the eye on every side, form a succession of rich and varied landscapes. Near the entrance of the bason on the western shore is the remarkable headland called Cape Blomedon, or more generally—Cape Blow-me-down, which forms the termination of the chain of hills that run parallel to the shores of the Bay of Fundy from Annapolis. This headland presents a singularly abrupt and imposing appearance; its perpendicular front is of a dark red colour, and its rugged head may be seen at a great distance, emerging from the thick mists by which it is frequently encompassed. On the opposite side of the channel is the pretty little village of Parrsborough, sheltered by the bluff cliff called Partridge Island; which, resisting the force of the tides in the Bay of Fundy, makes a secure harbour for the craft engaged in the navigation of the Bason of Minas and the adjoining rivers. Through the narrow channel between Partridge Island and Cape Split, at the outer entrance of the bason, the great body of water collected in this immense reservoir escapes into the Bay of Fundy. The singular appearance of this Cape, whose detached masses of rock appear to have been shivered by some mighty convulsion of nature, and shaken from their original foundations, has never failed to excite the surprise and admiration of every stranger who has seen it. A mail-coach road runs from Windsor to Halifax, which crosses the St. Croix river at a short distance from the former place. On the border of the St. Croix Lakes is the hill of Ardoise, the highest land in the province, from whence may be had a distant prospect of Windsor, Falmouth, Newport, and the beautiful country around the Bason of Minas. The road, as we approach Halifax, winds for nearly ten miles along the western shore of Bedford Bason, which is connected with the outer harbour by a narrow passage at the dock yard;—this inner bason is a beautiful sheet of water, containing ten square miles of safe anchorage. The scenery here, though not highly romantic, is agreeably picturesque; and the shores of the bason are indented with numerous coves, and well-sheltered inlets of great beauty. About seven miles from Halifax are the ruins of what was once the favourite country residence of His Royal Highness the Duke of Kent, when commanding the forces in this province. “It is impossible,” says Mr. Haliburton, “to visit this spot without the most melancholy feelings: the tottering fences, the prostrate gates, the ruined grottoes, the long and winding avenues, cut out of the forest, overgrown by rank grass and occasional shrubs, and the silence and desolation that pervade everything around, all bespeak a rapid and premature decay, recall to mind the untimely fate of its noble and lamented owner, and tell of fleeting pleasures, and the transitory nature of all earthly things. I stopped at a small inn in the neighbourhood, for the purpose of strolling over it for the last time ere I left the country, and for the indulgence of those moralizing musings which at times harmonized with our nerves and awaked what may be called the pleasurable sensations of melancholy.”