Louisbourg, the great port city of New France, had a short, turbulent and doomed life. In 1713 a small community of French pioneers, expelled from Plaisance (Placentia) in Newfoundland, settled on the forested shores of Havre à l'Anglois, on Isle Royale (Cape Breton Island) and began construction of a new colonial capital. To the modern eye, the decision to construct a remote city of industry, trade and military power upon a spit of desolate rock, surrounded by marshland and shrouded in fog, appears to be one of madness. But the location did have its advantages, not the least of them being its magnificent ice-free harbour and close proximity to the lucrative cod-fishing grounds. Bankrolled from Versailles, the city prospered so well that she was twice besieged, firstly by a crusading expeditionary force from New England in 1745, and finally by an overwhelming British naval and infantry assault to ignite the Conquest of Canada in 1758. So feared was her reputation, two years after her final fall an edict from British PM William Pitt imposed the permanent destruction of Louisbourg. Her population was evicted, their homes and streets demolished, and the vestiges of time and nature left to reclaim the topography. The "dream city" became dust. In the 1920s the government of Canada moved to secure what had become rubble and berry fields, and protect it as a national park. In 1962 a massive reconstruction project commenced, building 1/5th of the old city upon its original archeological foundations. The reconstructed walled-fortress is rightly famous and a jewel in Canada's national parks program, but it is only a portion of an extensive park that covers 6000 hectares of siege fields and 31 kilometres of coastline. Dream City of America is a series of research images examining time and memory, and seeking ghosts and mythology in the lay of the land. Each of the images exhibited here – portraying the archeological ruins, ancient roads and abandoned outer-works of old Louisbourg – has a story to tell, informed by period diaries, maps and illustrations. Two-hundred and fifty years ago this landscape was dominated by man. The hills were all clear-cut and exposed, the forests having been felled for construction lumber, firewood and defensive line-of-sight purposes. Fir and birch trees have now reclaimed the topography. Bog has submerged the batteries. Sea level has risen almost a full metre, and the coastline has eroded up to seven metres in places. Today, the bodies of a thousand men, and possibly twice that number, lay scattered along the coastline in shallow unmarked graves. Their spirits inhabit the terrain. We'd like to think we can unlock the past and pull it all back together like a perfect puzzle. The reality is not so easy. Historical truth does not always line up perfectly. Sometimes it's hidden. Sometimes it's buried beneath the roots. Dave Fisher Waterloo, Ontario | MAIN PAGE |