Part 7 (1/2)
Louis d'Amours, Sieur de Chauffours, returned to Port Royal in 1706 after a two years captivity at Boston. On the 17th January, 1708, only a few weeks after the marriage of his daughter to St. Castin, he took to himself a wife in the person of Anne Comeau. The marriage was witnessed by Governor Subercase and other officials at Port Royal, also by his daughter Charlotte and her husband, the Baron de St.
Castin, and by the widow of his brother the Sieur de Freneuse. It seems probable that his health had suffered through his long imprisonment, for very shortly after his second marriage he was stricken with an illness which proved fatal. The Recollet missionary, Justinien Durad, records in his parish register the burial in the cemetery of St. Jean Baptiste at Port Royal on May 19, 1708, of ”Louis d'Amour d'Echauffour, aged not far from sixty years [should be 54 years], after an illness of three months, during which he received the sacraments with great edification.” And this brings us to the last incident in the romantic story of the brothers d'Amours.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE OLD MEDOCTEC FORT.
Twelve miles below the town of Woodstock there enters the River St.
John, from the westward, a good sized tributary known as Eel River. It is a variable stream, flowing in the upper reaches with feeble current, over sandy shallows, with here and there deep pools, and at certain seasons almost lake-like expansions over adjoining swamps, but in the last twelve miles of its course it is transformed into a turbulent stream, broken by rapids and falls to such an extent that only at the freshet season is it possible to descend in canoes. The Indian name of Eel River is ”Madawamkeetook,” signifying ”rocky at its mouth.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: Plan of Old Medoctec Village]
The Medoctec Fort stood on the west bank of the St. John four miles above the mouth of Eel River. It guarded the eastern extremity of the famous portage, five miles in length, by which canoes were carried in order to avoid the rapids that obstruct the lower part of Eel River.
The rivers were nature's highway for the aboriginal inhabitants and a glance at the map will show that Madawamkeetook, or Eel River, formed a very important link in the chain of communication with the western portion of ancient Acadie by means of the inland waters.
In early days the three princ.i.p.al villages of the Maliseets were Medoctec on the St. John, Panagamsde on the Pen.o.bscot and Narantsouak on the Kennebec. In travelling from Medoctec to the westward the Indians pa.s.sed from the lakes at the head of Eel River, by a short portage, to the chain of lakes at the head of the St. Croix from which there was communication by another short portage with the Mattawamkeag, an eastern branch of the Pen.o.bscot. In the course of the stirring events of the war-period in Acadia the Indian braves and their French allies made constant use of this route, and the Medoctec village became a natural rendezvous whenever anything of a warlike nature was afoot on the St. John. But Medoctec possessed many local advantages; the hunting in the vicinity was excellent, the rivers abounded in salmon, sturgeon, ba.s.s, trout and other fish, and the intervals were admirably adapted to the growth of Indian corn--which seems to have been raised there from time immemorial.
The reader by examining the accompanying plan will have a better idea of the situation of the old fort.
The site of this ancient Maliseet town is a fine plateau extending back from the river about fifty rods, then descending to a lower interval, twenty rods wide, and again rising quite abruptly sixty or seventy feet to the upland. The spring freshet usually covers the lower interval and the elevated plateau then becomes an island. The spot is an exceedingly interesting one, but, unfortunately for the investigator, the soil has been so well cultivated by the hands of thrifty farmers that little remains to indicate the outlines of the old fortifications. It is impossible to determine with absolute certainty the position of the stockade, or of the large wigwam, or council chamber, and other features commonly found in Indian towns of that period. The only place where the old breast-work is visible is along the south and east sides of the burial ground, where it is about two feet high. The burial ground has never been disturbed with the plough, the owners of the property having shown a proper regard for the spot as the resting place of the dead. It is, however, so thickly overgrown with hawthorn as to be a perfect jungle difficult to penetrate. Many holes have been dug there by relic hunters and seekers of buried treasure.
At the spot marked A* on the plan, between the grave-yard and the river, there is a ma.s.s of ashes and cinders with numberless bones scattered about. This is believed to be the site of the old council fire. Here the visitor will find himself in touch with the events of savage life of centuries ago. Here it was Governor Villebon harangued his dusky allies; here the horrible dog feast was held and the hatchet brandished by the warriors on the eve of their departure to deluge with blood the homes of New England; here at the stake the luckless captive yielded up his life and chanted his death-song; here the Sieur de Clignancourt bargained with the Indians, receiving their furs and peltry and giving in exchange French goods and trinkets, rum and brandy; here good Father Simon taught the savages the elements of the Christian faith and tamed as best he could the fierceness of their manners; here too when weary of fighting the hatchet was buried and the council fire glowed its brightest as the chiefs smoked their calumet of peace.
Some have supposed the old Medoctec fort to have been quite an elaborate structure, with bastions, etc., but it was more probably only a rude Indian fortification with ditch and parapet surmounted by a stockade, within which was a strongly built cabin, in size about thirty by forty feet. Parkman in his ”Jesuits in North America,” gives a good description of similar forts built by the Hurons and other tribes of Canada. The labor originally involved in the erection of the palisade must have been very great, and nothing but stern necessity is likely to have driven so naturally improvident a people to undertake it. The stout stakes were cut, pointed and firmly planted with no better implement than the stone axe of prehistoric times.
In the lower right hand corner of the plan will be found the spring referred to in the opening chapter[15] as the scene of the ludicrous Mohawk scare. Its distance from the old fort is about half a mile, and the situation and surroundings correspond so exactly with Gyles'
description that there is not the slightest doubt as to its ident.i.ty.
The water that flows from it never fails and is very clear and cool.
[15] See page 13.
At the back of the lower interval is a curious gully, something like a broad natural roadway, which affords an easy ascent to the upland.
This no doubt was the commencement of the famous portage by which bands of savages in ancient days took their way westward to devastate the settlements of eastern New England.
The small stream which enters the St. John a little above the old village site is known as Hay's Creek, but in some of the early maps and land grants is called ”Meductic river.” About a mile from its mouth there is a very beautiful cascade; the volume of water is not large but the height of the fall, 95 feet perpendicular, is remarkable, surpa.s.sing by at least ten feet the Grand Falls of the River St. John.
Our knowledge of the village Medoctec, and the ways of its people two centuries ago, is derived mainly from the narrative of John Gyles, the English lad who was captured at Pemaquid in 1689 and brought by his Indian master to the River St. John. At the time of his capture Gyles was a boy of about twelve years of age. He seems to have met with kindly treatment from his master though not from all the Indians. His first rude experience was at Pen.o.bscot fort where upon the arrival of the captives, some fifty in number, the squaws got together in a circle dancing and yelling, as was their custom on such occasions.
Gyles says, ”An old grimace squaw took me by the hand and leading me into the ring, some seized me by my hair and others by my feet, like so many furies; but, my master laying down a pledge, they released me.
A captive among the Indians is exposed to all manner of abuses and to the extremest tortures, unless their master, or some of their master's relatives lay down a ransom, such as a bag of corn, a blanket, or the like, which redeems them from their cruelty for that dance.”
After a long and wearisome journey the little captive at length neared his destination, the canoes were paddling down the Madawamkeetook (or Eel) river. When they reached the rapids they landed, and we shall let Gyles tell in his own words the story of the last stage of his journey and of his reception at Medoctec. He says: ”We carried over a long carrying place to Medoctock Fort, which stands on a bank of St. John's river. My Indian master went before and left me with an old Indian and three squaws. The old man often said (which was all the English he could speak), 'By and by come to a great Town and Fort.' So I comforted myself in thinking how finely I should be refreshed when I came to this great town.
”After some miles travel we came in sight of a large Corn-field and soon after of the Fort, to my great surprise; for two or three squaws met us, took off my pack, and led me to a large hut or wigwam, where thirty or forty Indians were dancing and yelling round five or six poor captives. * * I was whirled in among them and we looked at each other with a sorrowful countenance; and presently one of them was seized by each hand and foot by four Indians, who swung him up and let his back with force fall on the hard ground, till they had danced (as they call it) round the whole wigwam, which was thirty or forty feet in length. * *
”The Indians looked on me with a fierce countenance, as much as to say it will be your turn next. They champed cornstalks, which they threw into my hat as I held it in my hand. I smiled on them though my heart ached. I looked on one and another, but could not perceive that any eye pitied me. Presently came a squaw and a little girl and laid down a bag of corn in the ring. The little girl took me by the hand, making signs for me to come out of the circle with them. Not knowing their custom, I supposed they designed to kill me and refused to go. Then a grave Indian came and gave me a pipe and said in English, 'Smoke it,'
then he took me by the hand and led me out. My heart ached, thinking myself near my end. But he carried me to a French hut about a mile from the Indian Fort. The Frenchman was not at home, but his wife, who was a squaw, had some discourse with my Indian friend, which I did not understand. We tarried there about two hours, then returned to the Indian village, where they gave me some victuals. Not long after I saw one of my fellow-captives who gave me a melancholy account of their sufferings after I left them.
”After some weeks had pa.s.sed,” Gyles continues, ”we left this village and went up St. John's river about ten miles to a branch called Medockscenecasis, where there was one wigwam. At our arrival an old squaw saluted me with a yell, taking me by the hair and one hand, but I was so rude as to break her hold and free myself. She gave me a filthy grin, and the Indians set up a laugh and so it pa.s.sed over.