Loyalist, Traitor or What?

Sharing the continent with the American goliath means that we receive much information from their perspective. I mean to say that when you have 300 million rich and powerful neighbours, you tend to take note, and one thing that I've noted is that Benedict Arnold was a traitor. Equating treachery with Benny Boy is as common up here as it is down there.

So, when I came to a chainsaw carving (background story a few posts down — this post would have been sequential if ... well ... it's a long story) of Mr Arnold in Saint John, I was somewhat taken aback by the title in the accompanying description: "Rebel and Loyalist." How's that? Shouldn't it read "Patriot Turned Traitor?" Well, it should if you are American but apparently not if you are British, or even Canadian I guess. From the British standpoint, he was a rebel who returned to the faith, so to speak.



According to the signage (and this information is all on the picture of the plaque below if you don't believe me and wish to embiggen in order to read the original), Benedict Arnold had won some major victories for the US army but married a British Loyalist when he was recuperating from battle wounds. Apparently, she influenced Arnold to engage in a wee bit o' espionage, which, as you might imagine, kind of led to him falling out of favour with the Yankee Doodle Dandies. Subsequently, I imagine he piqued their ire even more by leading British troops to victory against his former allies in several battles. Be that as it may, when the Brits lost the war he headed swiftly and forthwith to the safe shores of England.

The connection to our holidays is that from England the Loyal or Traitorous or both Mr Arnold ended up living in Saint John for six years beginning in 1783. He opened a store and traded with the West Indies and became a prominent if distrusted and envied citizen. Why he might be distrusted, I can't begin to think. He returned to England after his warehouse burned down.

So there's an interesting new point of view for me and some facts which I was entirely unaware of ... if you'll excuse the terminal preposition, which I am completely in favour ... of.

The Explorer, the Saint and the Falls

Today, I am going back to the early days of our hols, back to Saint John, NB, because I want to play teacher. Saint John is an example of history and geography coming together. I have mentioned the Reversing Falls previously, and I'll get back to them later in this blog, but let's talk about the title.

On our second visit to the Falls, we noticed a park of statues on a nearby hilltop. So we sauntered up and found a ring of chainsaw carvings representing historical figures relevant to Saint John. This photo shows a bit of the ring to give you the idea.



And so, we come to the explorer extraordinaire, Samuel de Champlain.



On his second voyage (I think) across the sea in 1604, he sailed to into the Bay of Fundy and into what is now called Saint John. It was June 24, which happened to be Saint's Day for John the Baptist: hence, the name. His journal records his description of the point of the next two photos of the Reversing Falls: "After rounding a point it narrows again and forms a waterfall between two lofty cliffs where the water runs with such great swiftness that if a piece of wood be thrown in, it sinks and is never seen again."

That's the connection between the explorer, the saint, and the falls, but here's what I can show you and try to describe.



Frankly, it's nothing much to look at: a deep gorge with water at the bottom, but how the water works is interesting. The above photo was actually our second trip of the day, about six hours after the first, at low tide. The water is flowing as water normally does: downstream and out to the sea. I've labelled the photo, but you might have to embiggen by clicking on it it to see it properly. I've also labelled a rock as a reference point.

Below: it is high tide, six hours earlier. The rock is almost covered, and water is actually flowing upstream, counter to the normal way of things.



This where Sammy and his crew stopped their exploration and turned around on the saint's day, and why the city is now called Saint John. Just so you know, it is not Saint John's, and you're also expected to write out Saint and not abbreviate it if I understand the protocol correctly.

The Carleton Martello Tower

I keep saying, "I'm done," but then I find that there's more: something like John Donne, I guess (if that doesn't register, just move on — it's not important).

On the morning that we were to catch the ferry from Saint John to Digby, we had a bit of time to spare, and since the Carleton Martello Tower was pretty well on the way, we stopped to take a few piccies. We didn't have enough time to pay and go inside, but it was a nice day and a pretty good photo op.





Here is some information from the website.

Carleton Martello Tower dates from the War of 1812 and played a pivotal role in conflicts up until the Second World War. The site features a restored powder magazine, a restored barracks room, and exhibits in the tower and in the Visitor Centre.

Carleton Martello Tower is just one of over 200 defence towers that the British built worldwide. Between 1810 and 1847, eleven Martello towers were constructed in British North America. In an age of smoothbore artillery, these towers were seen as an effective and affordable way to protect coastal areas from enemy attack.

But what makes a tower a Martello tower? Martello towers, whether in Canada, England, or Mauritius, all had certain features in common. For instance, these structures were circular in shape with a flat roof on which artillery could be mounted. The towers were accessible through a doorway in the second storey, or barrack floor. The ground floor had storage space and a gunpowder magazine. The key feature was a round, brick pillar that supported both the roof and the arched brick ceiling which, along with the thick walls, was designed to absorb artillery fire. Based on these elements, it is easy to see why Martello towers gained a reputation for strength.