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St. Lawrence River

You’re looking at the Raquette River, although along its 146-mile length to the St. Lawrence you might have trouble differentiating between all of the various lakes, ponds, marshes, and slower-moving sections. There’s water everywhere nearby! A photograph like this, though, is what draws canoers and kayakers to the area: water travel remains the best way to navigate, aside from a few dramatic falls requiring portage. The Raquette was used by native peoples for centuries, then rebranded “The Highway of the Adirondacks” because its route is powered by heavy amounts of snow and rain.

The St. Lawrence River is the largest of New York’s seventeen major watersheds, and much of that area originates in the high-precipitation Adirondack Park. If you live here, this isn’t a surprise. Visitors—and maybe even some residents—look at all the “forever wild” land and think of it as protected. To be sure, since its establishment in 1885 the park actually has increased in size and includes large areas of wilderness and managed forests. But growing numbers of tourists and real estate development are affecting water quality, and even the rain itself has been an ecological detriment.

That’s because US weather patterns funnel air from the Midwest toward the Adirondacks, and by the 1960s scientists were describing a phenomenon they called “acid rain”: the depositing of compounds like sulfer dioxide and nitrogen dioxide from the burning of fossil fuels, especially those originating in coal-burning power plants. As Adirondack streams, lakes, and even the soil itself became more acidic, harmful consequences accumulated; tree species like red spruce and sugar maple declined, and virtually all forms of aquatic life were impacted. Concerted action taking the form of the Clean Air Acts of 1979 and 1990 has managed to reverse that damage, and ecosystems are showing signs of recovery (Odato; Civerolo and Roy). The current Presidential adminsistration, however, now is weakening clean air regulations at the bidding of fossil fuel corporations (Greshko, et al.). Despite wilderness appearances, healthy Adirondack snows and rains aren’t something that can be taken for granted.

Gilded Age Castles in the Thousand Islands

Potsdam@0.5x.jpg

In this contemporary aerial view of Potsdam, NY, the Raquette's water power no longer is used for milling Adirondack timber; now, it's primarily a college town with nearby access to the outdoors. Here we see picturesque Fall Island and the Trinity Episcopal Church, built using the area's distinctive red Potsdam sandstone. Photo courtesy Jesstine Avadikian / SUNY Potsdam; click here to view a larger image.

From the Gazetteer: “The communication by Lake Erie, Niagara river, and the Ontario, with the St. Lawrence, is very important to the interests of a great share of our western population;—including the navigation of many streams that enter those waters....[Tributaries] mostly take their rise upon the plateau of the great Northern wilderness, and in their course to the lowlands are frequently interrupted by falls, furnishing an abundance of water-power. The water is usually very dark, being colored with iron and the vegetation of swamps....The flat country along the St. Lawrence at times is affected by drouth, which is never felt on the uplands; while the latter are somewhat noted for the great depth of their snows. The mirage has been frequently seen on the lake, bringing into view places beyond the horizon. One form of this refraction, in which a line of clear sky appears along the shore, is almost a constant attendant upon clear, pleasant days in summer. Waterspouts, attended with dark clouds and a roaring noise, have been seen upon the lake and its bays...The sandstone region is level or gently undulating, broken in some places by disrupted masses of the underlying rock. In this region are numerous quarries, from which are obtained sheets of sandstone of 2 inches to a foot in thickness and of almost any desirable size. This stone acquires hardness by exposure and is indestructible by atmospheric agencies....[Potsdam] is 10 miles square, first settled in 1804, and now contains, 1810, 928 inhabitants...The Racket river, here about 250 yards wide, passes thro’ this Town, and forms a great variety of beautiful situations. The principal settlement or village, is on the Racket, where there is a beautiful fall and large accommodations for all kinds of water-machinery” (Spafford 15, 276; French 21, 352, 572). Major Tributaries: Oswegatchie River, Raquette River, Saint Regis River. Major Lakes: Black Lake, Cranberry Lake, Raquette Lake, Tupper Lake, Long Lake. Highest Point: Santanoni Peak (4,609 ft). Area: 5,600 square miles in New York state.

Judith Julia Farley, from "The St. Lawrence: An Historical Poem" (1906)

Although it appeared a century later, this poem can be compared to the American poet Joel Barlow’s The Columbiad—that is, a meditation upon European contact with indigenous peoples in North America, using an explicitly Christian framework. This opening section of Farley’s poem is located on the St. Lawrence River, during Jacques Cartier’s second voyage of 1535-36. As with Columbus narratives the New World appears to readers as untouched, a potentially redemptive Eden for Europeans, although Farley goes further in hinting at a Christian community potentially spanning cultures. The chief named Donnacona, who is referenced near the end of this excerpt, lived near present-day Quebec City; eventually he was kidnapped by Cartier, shown in French courts to excite interest in colonization, and then died in Rouen. Farley represents this as a tragedy, albeit with romantic melancholy and sparse criticism. You can read the poem in its entirety by following this link.
St. Lawrence, kingly River!
What legends o’er it dwell,
They slumber in each hollow,
And on its billows swell;
They breathe, o’er its fair landscape,
And lend a pleasing charm
To sunny bays and inlets,
To homesteads bright and warm.

When forests in their quiet,
And pristine grandeur reigned;
Ere the valiant Sons of France,
Its silver waters named,
There, Chiefs, in glowing language,
Gave laws and ruled with power;
Or, oft smoked the calumet,
Many a transient hour

The wild deer of the forest,
Came at the early morn,
To drink its crystal waters,
Not dreading hounds, nor horn.
The lovely Maples bending,
Oft dipped their verdant leaves;
And trembling Aspens quivered,
Above its ruffled waves.

Gem of primeval beauty!
In pristine grandeur drest,
No sounds of busy traffic,
Disturbed its quiet rest;
Till, bounding o’er its bosom,
In all their native pride,
Armadas from St. Malo,
Sailed up its waters wide.

And from their decks, the soldiers
Looked on the passing scene,
Of mountains, vales and river,
Of islands, robed in green,
Unfurled their brave old banners!
And waved them in the breeze;
And raised the Christian Emblem,
They brought from o’er the seas.

And cried! to name this River,
The honor let us pay!
We’ll call it for St. Lawrence,
Because this is his day.
Then, sailing up still higher,
They spied an island fair,
And at its shores they anchored,
And gladly rested there.
It was a rustic vineyard,
Where purple laden vines,
Festooned through brake and bramble,
And clung round winter pines.
So, plucking the ripe clusters,
They thought it pleasant sport;
To name the Island Bacchus,
While quaffing Lisbon Port.

The sun, in ruddy glory,
Beamed from the eastern sky;
It rested on the mountains,
And bade the darkness fly;
It flitted through the forest,
And lit in quiet nooks ;
And danced in playful shadows,
Upon the purling brooks.

The birds, in joyous revels,
Proclaimed the new-born day;
While forest flowers their petals,
Expanded ‘neath each ray;
And gentle summer breezes,
Were wafted from the sea;
To fan each wakened leaflet,
Of forest, flower and tree.

Then from a birchin wigwam,
With bow and arrow bent;
Came mighty Donacona,
And to the river went;
He glided through the forest,
And saw each well loved place,
For he that region governed,
A king of savage race.

But, halting ‘neath the maples,
His heart grew sick and cold;
When he beheld the helmets,
And epaulets of gold;
Worn by those gallent soldiers,
Who, on that happy day,
Upon the decks dressed gaily,
Were manned in proud array.

But soon, with heads uncovered,
They humbly knelt to pray,
As the priest, robed in vestments,
Began the Mass to say;
And ‘neath the dome of heaven,
Adorned with blue and gold,
They read their prayers in silence,
From missals quaint and old.

James G. Riggs, James G. (compiler), Josephine W. Wickser (adviser), and Jane N. Phelps (artist), Romance Map of the North Country (1935). Centered upon an area roughly bordered by the Adirondack State Park, this map synthesizes basic topographical features—borders, lakes and waterways, cities, early roads—with pictorial elements. It was a very popular type of document during the 1930s; at OpenValley you can view similar maps of New York State culture, history, and indigenous peoples. It’s a type of cartography and art that’s very immersive, which can be appreciated by either by clicking on the map or viewing it at a higher resolution here.

Let’s set aside its usefulness for navigation and consider it in terms of popular art. There seem to be a lot of references to local historical events and culture. Are you surprised to see so much attention given to the US border with Canada? Perhaps this has something to do with events during the War of 1812 in this part of the state and along the St. Lawrence River. It helps make a case for the North Country as being less remote, more important. There’s also a sort of catalog featuring the state’s material bounty: animals, vegetables, and minerals!

Probably the most complex interpretive issue to be dealt with here is similar to that in Farley’s poem—namely, a “romantic” narrative of Europeans displacing indigenous peoples. You can see History on the march along the left border, and even more blatantly in the map’s title. How does this reconfigure all the other information you see? If anything strikes you as strange or makes you uncomfortable, what’s behind that feeling?

Works Consulted

—Civerlo, Kevin L., and Karen M. Roy. "On the Road to Recovery: Acid Rain and the Adirondacks." New York State Conservationist April 2013: 17-19. Web version available here.

—Farley, Judith Joseph. The St. Lawrence River: An Historical Poem. Quebec Daily Telegraph, 1906. Web version available at Internet Archive.

—French, J. H. Gazeteer of the State of New York. Ira J. Friedman, 1860.

—Greshko, Michael, et al. "A Running List of how President Trump is Changing Environmental Policy." National Geographic. Web.

—Spafford, Horatio Gates. A Gazetteer of the State of New York. H.C. Southwick, 1813.

—Stein, Devin. "Raquette River Sunset." 2015. Photograph at Flickr.

—Odato, James M. "Lakes Recovering from Acid Rain." Adironack Explorerer 4 Sept. 2018. Web.