Nova Scotia stretches 500 kilometres on a southwest-northeast axis from Cape Sable to Cape North, the shape of the province is often compared to that native delicacy, the lobster, with Cape Breton Island representing the outstretched claws, preparing to nip unsuspecting Newfoundland across the Cabot Strait.
The coastline of the uplands region is deeply indented, forming many good harbours, some of which are considered outstanding. Hundreds of islands dot the landscape along the entire Atlantic coast, most notably at St. Margarets Bay and Mahone Bay. Reefs and shoals abound, accounting for the many lighthouses erected along this coast. In many ways the Atlantic uplands coast epitomizes the North Atlantic coastline with its bare granite sheets plunging headlong into the raging surf to produce an awesome cataclysm between land and sea. When people think of Nova Scotia, they usually envisage the rocky granite shores of the uplands. Cape Breton, Nova Scotia the Romantic Past
These true tales are drawn from the romantic past of Nova Scotia, and have been studied from authentic documents. In each case, the reader is referred to the original authority. Pains have been taken to verify details. For example, in preparing the narrative of the loss of the Tribune, I went along the Thrum Cap shoals in a tug and had soundings taken.
The various episodes here gathered together illustrate the history of Nova Scotia. They are arranged in order of their occurrence.
The escape of the three French gentlemen from Quebec in 1725, shows how ancient the practice of sending family black-sheep to the colonies. Their experience of Indian treachery, their flight from the fear of Indian vengeance, opens the chapter of the white man’s relations with the red. Indian warfare was the nightmare of early settlers in America.
The experience of Marie Payzant and her family is the fullest ever recorded in any Canadian document telling of white captives’ life among the savages. Witherspoon’s narrative is based on a transcript of his journal kept during his imprisonment at Miramichi and Quebec; it was written in tobacco juice when ink failed. Both Nova Scotians were in Quebec when it fell in 1759. Fragments of their stories have been handed down, but many other early settlers suffered as they did, and died, and left no sign.
William Greenwood’s efforts to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds reveal aspects of the American Revolutionary War not generally known. A natural pendant to the non-combatant’s hardships is the tale of Tonga’s two spirited fights in the coastal waters of Cape Breton.
Many a tall ship has left her bones along the iron coast of Nova Scotia. Many a wreck and many a rescue are briefly noted in the annals of the province. The tragedy of the Tribune impressed the community by completeness, and by the fact that young officers in the Duke of Kent’s regiment lost their lives by going to the assistance of the stranded frigate. Few more determined efforts to save life at all hazards to the rescuer are on record than the two trips of “Joe Cracker” to the half-submerged masts of the Tribune. Little more than a child himself, he saved the lives of two men; and his heroic example shamed the men of the Cove into saving the six survivors. His exploit ranks with Grace Darling’s; and he had no one to help him.
How the Shannon fought the Chesapeake is an oft-told tale; but the part which the good old city of Halifax had in it is not so well known.
The saga of the blood stained Saladin, like the murders on board the Lennie and the Caswell, reminds the landsmen hoe often deed of violence were done on the high seas. Nova Scotians remember the Saladin; the ballads made about the murders are still extant. One is to be found in MacOdrum’s MS collection of Nova Scotia ballads preserved in Dalhousie College. In the case of both the Saladin and Lennie, Nemesis followed both on the heels of crime. Stevensonian touches occur in the tale of the Saladin. Like Long John Silver, the villain has a wooden leg. Like the murderous captain in Kidnapped, Fielding reprobated Sandy’s cursing and swearing. The murderers taking their Bible oath “to be brotherly together” resembles the incident of conscience-stricken homicides repeating the Lord’s Prayer in unison on the deck of the Flying Scud. The ring-leader in the murders on the Caswell made one sailor kneel in the blood of the slain captain and swear fealty to the mutineers. The Bible on which Captain Fielding swore his red-handed accomplices is preserved in the Dalhousie College, the grimiest relic, save one, of this sordid tragedy.
Privateering began in Nova Scotia in 1756, when the hundred-ton schooner Lawrence sailed to the southward on a six month cruise against the enemies of George the Second. Part of her adventures is related in The Log of Halifax Privateer, Nova Scotia Chap-books, No. 6. In three great wars, Nova Scotia privateers scoured the seas, made prizes, fought and won, or fought and lost. Such battles as the action between Observer and the Jack, and between the tiny Revenge and three rebel privateers are known only in outline, and must be typical of many a sea-duel recorded briefly in long lost log-books. Godfrey’s exploits in the Rover show the mettle of the old seafaring men. His victory over his tour opponents is a classic, and wins the admiration of professional sailors for his cool courage, discipline, and seamanship.
Heroism is not confined to action under stress of war. The courage, skill, endurance and resource of Nova Scotia’s merchant sailors are hard to parallel. Before the era of railways, Nova Scotia was in reality an island; communication with the outer world and by different parts of the province was by sea. These conditions bred a sea-faring race. Whole families followed the sea from generation to generation. Nova Scotia shipmasters took their wives and families with them on voyages around the world. Children were born on shipboard, literally in the midst of storms. The deeds of Cook and Coward, of the two Churchills herein recorded are typical. Chance has preserved their stories; but many others just as splendid have been lost for lack of a chronicler.
“Rendering assistance” is instinctive and habitual with sailors, by land as well as by sea. To those practical seamen, who open freely to me their stories of professional knowledge and who gave me the benefit of their friendly criticism my grateful thanks are due; and especially to Captain W. G. S. de Carteret, Captain Fred Ladd, Captain Charles Doty, Captain H. St. G Lindsay, Captain Neil Hall, and Mr. Adams MacDougall. Without their assistance my “navigation” must have been very faulty. My thanks are also due to Mr. J Murray Lawson, the historian of Yarmouth, for much personal aid. His records of Yarmouth shipping and the files of his paper The Yarmouth Herald are veritable store-houses of information.