KEEP IT COVERED
New Brunswick’s many historic enclosed bridges are sturdy links to simpler, slower and safer times
If ever the world needed a bridge over troubled waters, it’s in the year 2020.
And while the waters are no less turbulent in Canada than elsewhere, one province has something of a monopoly on getting us across in tranquillity and comfort.
Is it too soon for New Brunswick to pitch its magnificent collection of covered bridges as a salve for our troubled souls?
Perhaps. But it’s hard to imagine a more calming draw for the post-pandemic traveller.
As photographer and author Joseph D. Conwill, who has written two books on the subject, said of covered bridges: “They promise all the best features of bygone country life: a cool fragrant wooden space like an old barn, built of hand-hewn timbers, beside sunny fields or quiet forests, over rolling waters.”
Canada had more than 1,400 of them at the end of the 19th century. But fewer than 150 exist today, mostly in Quebec and New Brunswick, which has 58 — down from almost 350 in the 1950s.
The largest province in the Maritimes, New Brunswick’s place in the annals of man-made crossings is assured thanks to the Hartland Bridge, which at a span of 390 metres or 1,282 feet over the Saint John River between the communities of Hartland and Somerville in Carleton County, is the longest covered bridge in the world.
That’s 61 metres (200 feet) longer than its nearest rival, in Norway, according to the New Brunswick Archives.
Considered an engineering marvel when it opened in 1901, it was left exposed until 1921 when it was finally covered after a vociferous debate over how the enclosure might corrupt the morals of its young people by encouraging debauchery within its walls.
Indeed, so great were the fears that the solicitor-general, W.P. Jones, launched an inquiry. In a letter from 1906 quoted by the Hartland Observer, he wrote: “In many cases when a bridge situated near a village has been covered, it has proved very objectionable on account of rough characters who frequent it at night, frightening women and children and making a regular nuisance of it.”
Pragmatism won out: Hartland’s timber bridge, like every other in the province, would soon rot if it were not covered, lasting only about 10 years compared to well over eight decades if properly sealed.
Jones’s bridge-to-hell predictions did not come to pass, but the enclosed spans earned a reputation as “kissing bridges” because couples passing through in horse and buggy, bound to strict speed limits, would pause midway for a stealthy embrace.
For those making the crossing at night — still restricted to a walking pace amid the cobwebs, bats and shadows swirling in the gloom — they were known as “wishing bridges” as nervous riders wished for a safe passage.
It was believed that going too fast would create a standing wave that would cause the bridge to collapse.
Blessed with vast swaths of timber, New Brunswick erected covered bridges at a furious pace as demand grew for quick and sturdy structures that would facilitate settlement and trade.
“A mighty race of covered bridge builders arose,” archival documents state. “It is a safe assumption that not one of them ever looked upon a set of specifications even remotely resembling a blueprint.”
What they left behind, however, is testament to the skill and ingenuity of men who worked with little more than rough sketches and simple hand tools — axes, augers and adzes — to build bridges that were stout enough to bear a herd of cattle.
Now a national and provincial historic site and commemorated in a Canada Post stamp, Hartland remains roadworthy and dependable, despite “some incidents over the years,” with lighting installed in 1924 and a side walkway added in 1945 so visitors can better admire its construction.
Trading on the bridge’s fame, the nearby Covered Bridge Potato Chip Company offers a tasty aside with tours of its plant, which produces snacks using homegrown dark russet potatoes, and a gift shop featuring 30 flavour seasonings.
Though Hartland is the jewel in the crown, there are many other roofed bridges within easy driving distance of the two biggest cities, Saint John and Moncton. New Brunswick’s tourism board’s website maintains photos, specs and driving directions.
Kings County, in the south of the province near Saint John, bills itself as the Covered Bridge Capital of Atlantic Canada, with no fewer than 15 listed on the government’s inventory. All are within easy reach, making for efficient day trips.
Be warned that many spans are no longer functioning but still open for visitors. These include the 1910 Little Lepreau River Bridge, near Mill Pond, about 30 minutes’ drive southwest of Saint John, and Mill Brook in Nelson Hollow, Northumberland County, which is the oldest of the lot, dating to 1900.
Still proudly operating more than 110 years later is the Maxwell Crossing covered bridge, built in 1910 about 4 km north of Saint Stephen.
Working or idle, New Brunswick’s covered bridges are under constant threat from flooding, industrial mishaps, car crashes and indifferent maintenance, the National Trust for Canada says.
In 2018, it added them to its top 10 national list of endangered places.
Ray Boucher, president of the two-year-old Covered Bridges Conservation Association of New Brunswick, fears up to 12 bridges could be lost in the next five years — in addition to the six or more that have succumbed to accidents, vandalism or floods since 2009.
“It’s a crime,” he told the CBC. “These are heritage structures that should be preserved as heritage buildings.”
For its part, the provincial government has said it recognizes their cultural importance and place as “heritage icons,” as well as their role as vital transportation links. With many pandemic-scarred tourists seeking solace, New Brunswick’s covered bridges could take on even greater significance as tangible links to simpler, slower and safer times.