[Excerpt from Kingsford's HISTORY
OF CANADA, published 1897]
On the 7th October, 1825, occurred on the banks of
the Miramichi River, N.B., one of the most remarkable of the calamities
known in modern times. Some idea of its extent may be formed by the
narrative of the losses it occasioned. It was subsequently ascertained
that the number who suffered by its devastation was 3078, and the total
loss in this thinly populated country was nearly a quarter of a million
pounds sterling. One hundred and thirty persons were destroyed in the
fire, ten were drowned, and twenty died from the injuries received, two
thousand people were left perfectly destitute two small
towns, Newcastle and Douglastown, were completely destroyed. It was a
strange coincidence that on the same date a great part of Fredericton,
N.B., was burned that on the Penobscot for 30 miles the fire raged with a
sea of flame, and that both in Upper and Lower Canada there were fires of
great extent in the forests.
In Newcastle on the afternoon of the 7th a dense cloud
of smoke was seen in the north-west, which obscured the atmosphere. It was
known that the woods were on fire, but no danger was suspected for there
was little wind. As the afternoon advanced the wind increased to a
hurricane. The sound became deafening, and the flames burst forth with a
power to destroy all before them. So rapid was the devastation that one
thought only prevailed, to save life. Those who witnessed the scene have
left a record of the agony felt on that night. Some plunged into the river
to escape destruction, others drifted on temporary rafts to meet death by
drowning, hundreds sought refuge in a marsh near the town, which indeed
proved the only place of safety.
The fire took its origin in the neighbourhood of the
Baie des Chaleurs; its cause was never known. It extended to Richibucto,
eighty-five miles by land, and passed over the district of the north and
south-west boundaries of the Miramichi—more than 100 miles in a direct
line, this area containing 8,000 square miles of forest. There were 120
square- rigged vessels in the river. Many caught fire but were saved by
the energy of the seamen. Three ships, however, were burned. Fortunately
the town of Chatham escaped, and it was here that the sufferers found
refuge. Many extraordinary incidents occurred. The cattle where possible,
took refuge in the river, but nearly 900 were burned. In one case they
were joined by a bear from the woods. When the fire was over the creature
left without attempting mischief. The very fish in the river suffered from
the floating burning wood. Many were driven on the shore. Large numbers of
salmon, bass, and trout were found on the river bank. The birds also
suffered, especially the seagulls. Many were found dead. The snakes even
crawled for the clearings. Such as failed to escape the flames were burned
or suffocated. The greatest sympathy was called forth by the calamity
- A ship of war with several vessels in Halifax immediately left with
provisions. Surgeons in the service volunteered to attend to the
sufferers. The garrison of Halifax and the ships in the navy gave a day's
pay for the relief of the distress. Subscriptions were started in the
Maritime Provinces, in Upper- and Lower Canada, the United States, and the
Mother Country, and upwards of £43,000 sterling was obtained.
Although seventy years have
passed since this remarkable fire, the memory of it is still vividly
retained in New Brunswick.
* * * * * *
Dr. Norman McLeod, of Glasgow, who visited Miramichi
some years afterwards, writes :-
'A hurricane rushed in fury along the river, tearing
burning trees up by the roots, hurling flaming branches through the air
for 5 or 6 miles (which set fire to the shipping and to the woods on the
other side of the broad stream) causing at the same time such a rolling
sea up the river as threatened to swamp the boats, and sweep the miserable
refugees from the rafts! It seems incredible, but we believe there is no
doubt as to the fact that the ashes of the fire fell thick on the streets
of Halifax, St. John's, Newfoundland, and Quebec, and that some were
carried as far as the Bermudas, while the smoke darkened the air hundreds
of miles off.........
That fire has left singular traces of its journey. The
road from Newcastle to Bathurst, near the Bay of Chaleur, passes for 5 or
6 miles through a district called 'The Barrens.' Far as the eye can reach
on every side there is nothing but desolation. The forest extends, as it
has done for ages, across plains, and vanishes over the undulating hills
which bound the distant horizon. But while all the trees, with most of
their branches remain, spring extracts no bud from them, nor does summer
clothe even a twig with foliage. All is a barren waste! The trees are not
black now but white, and bleached by sun and rain, and far to the horizon,
round and round, nothing is discerned but one vast, and apparently
boundless forest of the white skeleton trunks of dead leafless trees. That
immense tract is doomed to remain barren—perhaps for ever—at least for
many long years to come. It is avoided by the emigrant— nay the very birds
and wild beasts seem to have for ever deserted it. The land itself has
become so scourged by the exuberant crop of plants which grow up in such
soil, when cleared by a fire, as to be comparatively useless in a colony
of countless acres yet untouched by the plough of the settler.'
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