Glimpses of the Past Part 1

Glimpses of the Past.

by W. O. Raymond.

PREFACE.

Born and reared upon the banks of the River Saint John, I have always loved it, and have found a charm in the study of everything that pertains to the history of those who have dwelt beside its waters.

In connection with the ter-centenary of the discovery of the river by de Monts and Champlain, on the memorable 24th of June, 1604, the chapters which follow were contributed, from time to time, to the Sat.u.r.day edition of the Saint John _Daily Telegraph_. With the exception of a few minor corrections and additions, these chapters are reprinted as they originally appeared. Some that were hurriedly written, under pressure of other and more important work, might be revised with advantage. Little attempt at literary excellence has been practicable. I have been guided by an honest desire to get at the facts of history, and in so doing have often quoted the exact language of the writers by whom the facts were first recorded. The result of patient investigation, extending over several years, in the course of which a mult.i.tude of doc.u.ments had to be consulted, is a more elaborate and reliable history of the Saint John River region than has yet appeared in print. The period covered extends from the discovery of the river in 1604 to the coming of the Loyalists in 1784. It is possible that the story may one day be continued in a second volume.

At the conclusion of this self-appointed task, let me say to the reader, in the words of Montaigne, "I bring you a nosegay of culled flowers, and I have brought little of my own but the string that ties them."

W. O. RAYMOND.

ST JOHN, N. B., December, 1905.

GLIMPSES OF THE PAST.

INCIDENTS IN THE HISTORY OF THE ST. JOHN RIVER.

CHAPTER I.

THE MALISEETS.

The Indian period of our history possesses a charm peculiarly its own.

When European explorers first visited our sh.o.r.es the Indian roamed at pleasure through his broad forest domain. Its wealth of attractions were as yet unknown to the hunter, the fisherman and the fur-trader.

Rude as he was the red man could feel the charms of the wilderness in which he dwelt. The voice of nature was not meaningless to one who knew her haunts so well. The dark recesses of the forest, the sunny glades of the open woodland, the mossy dells, the sparkling streams and roaring mountain torrents, the quiet lakes, the n.o.ble river flowing onward to the sea with islands here and there embosomed by its tide--all were his. The smoke of his wigwam fire curled peacefully from Indian village and temporary encampment. He might wander where he pleased with none to say him nay.

But before the inflowing tide of the white-man's civilization the Indian's supremacy vanished as the morning mist before the rising sun.

The old hunting grounds are his no longer. His descendants have long ago been forced to look for situations more remote. The sites of the ancient villages on interval and island have long since been tilled by the thrifty farmer's hands.

But on the sites of the old camping grounds the plough share still turns up relics that carry us back to the "stone age." A careful study of these relics will tell us something about the habits and customs of the aborigines before the coming of the whites. And we have another source of information in the quaint tales and legends that drift to us out of the dim shadows of the past, which will always have peculiar fascination for the student of Indian folk-lore.

With the coming of the whites the scene changes and the simplicity of savage life grows more complicated. The change is not entirely for the better; the hards.h.i.+ps of savage life are ameliorated, it is true, but the Indian learns the vices of civilization.

The native races naturally play a leading part in early Acadian history, nor do they always appear in a very amiable light. The element of fierceness and barbarity, which seems inherent in all savage races, was not wanting in the Indians of the River St. John.

They united with their neighbours in most of the wars waged with the whites and took their full share in those b.l.o.o.d.y forays which nearly annihilated many of the infant settlements of Maine and New Hamps.h.i.+re.

The early annals of Eastern New England tell many a sad story of the sacrifice of innocent lives, of women and children carried into captivity and homes made desolate by savage hands.

And yet, it may be that with all his faults the red man has been more sinned against than sinning.

Many years ago the provincial government sent commissioners to the Indian village of Medoctec on the St. John river, where the Indians from time immemorial had built their wigwams and tilled their cornfields and where their dead for many generations had been laid to rest in the little graveyard by the river side. The object of the commissioners was to arrange for the location of white settlers at Medoctec. The government claimed the right to dispossess the Indians on the ground that the lands surrounding their village were in the gift of the crown. The Indians, not unnaturally, were disinclined to part with the heritage of their forefathers.

On their arrival at the historic camping ground the commissioners made known the object of their visit. Presently several stalwart captains, attired in their war paint and feathers and headed by their chief, appeared on the scene. After mutual salutations the commissioners asked: "By what right or t.i.tle do you hold these lands?"

The tall, powerful chief stood erect, and with the air of a plumed knight, pointing within the walk of the little enclosure beside the river, replied: "There are the graves of our grandfathers! There are graves of our fathers! There are the graves of our children!"

To this simple native eloquence the commissioners felt they had no fitting reply, and for the time being the Maliseets remained undisturbed.

It in not necessary to discuss at length the origin of the Indians who lived on the banks of the St. John at the time the country became known to Europeans. Whether or not the ancestors of our Indians were the first inhabitants of that region it is difficult to determine. The Indians now living on the St. John are Maliseets, but it is thought by many that the Micmacs at one time, possessed the valley of the river and gradually gave place to the Maliseets, as the latter advanced from the westward. There is a tradition among the St. John river Indians that the Micmacs and Maliseets were originally one people and that the Maliseets after a while "went off by themselves and picked up their own language." This the Micmacs regarded as a mongrel dialect and gave to the new tribe the name Maliseet (or Milicete), a word derived from Mal-i-see-jik--"he speaks badly." However, in such matters, tradition is not always a safe guide. It is more probable the two tribes had an independent origin, the Micmacs being the earlier inhabitants of Acadia, while the Maliseets, who are an offshoot of the Abenaki (or Wabenaki) nation, spread eastward from the Kennebec to the Pen.o.bscot and thence to the St. John. The Indians who are now scattered over this area very readily understand one another's speech, but the language of the Micmacs is unintelligible to them.

The Micmacs seem to have permitted their neighbors to occupy the St.

John river without opposition, their own preference inclining them to live near the coast. The opinion long prevailed in Acadia that the Maliseets, were a more powerful and ferocious tribe than the Micmacs; nevertheless there is no record or tradition of any conflict between them.

That the Maliseets have for centuries inhabited the valley of the River St. John is indicated by the fact that the Indian names of rivers, lakes, islands and mountains, which have been retained by the whites, are nearly all of Maliseet origin. Nevertheless the Micmacs frequented the mouth of the St. John river after the arrival of Europeans, for we learn that the Jesuit missionary, Enemond Ma.s.se, pa.s.sed the winter of 1611-2 at St. John in the family of Louis Membertou, a Micmac, in order to perfect himself in the Micmac language, which he had already studied to some extent at Port Royal.

The elder Membertou, father of the Indian here named, was, perhaps, the most remarkable chieftain Acadia ever produced. His sway as grand sagamore of the Micmac nation extended from Gaspe to Cape Sable. In the year 1534 he had welcomed the great explorer Jacques Cartier to the sh.o.r.es of Eastern New Brunswick, as seventy years later he welcomed de Monts and Poutrincourt to Port Royal. The Jesuit missionary, Pierre Biard, describes Membertou as "the greatest, most renowned and most formidable savage within the memory of man; of splendid physique, taller and larger limbed than is usual among them; bearded like a Frenchmen, although scarcely any of the others have hair upon the chin; grave and reserved with a proper sense of the dignity of his position as commander." "In strength of mind, in knowledge of war, in the number of his followers, in power and in the renown of a glorious name among his countrymen, and even his enemies, he easily surpa.s.sed the sagamores who had flourished during many preceding ages."

In the year 1605 Pennoniac, one of the chiefs of Acadia, went with de Monts and Champlain as guide on the occasion of their voyage along the sh.o.r.es of New England and was killed by some of the savages near Saco.

Bessabez, the sagamore of the Pen.o.bscot Indians, allowed the body of the dead chief to be taken home by his friends to Port Royal and its arrival was the signal of great lamentation. Membertou was at this time an old man, but although his hair was white with the frosts of a hundred winters, like Moses of old, his eye was not dim nor his natural force abated. He decided that the death of Pennoniac must be avenged. Messengers were sent to call the tribes of Acadia and in response to the summons 400 warriors a.s.sembled at Port Royal. The Maliseets joined in the expedition. The great flotilla of war canoes was arranged in divisions, each under its leader, the whole commanded by Membertou in person. As the morning sun reflected in the still waters of Port Royal the noiseless procession of canoes, crowned by the tawny faces and bodies of the savage warriors, smeared with pigments of various colors, the sight struck the French spectators with wonder and astonishment.

Uniting with their allies of the River St. John, the great war party sped westward over the waters of the Bay of Fundy and along the coast till they reached the land of the Armouchiquois. Here they met and defeated their enemies after a hard-fought battle in which Bessabez and many of his captains were slain, and the allies returned in triumph to Acadia singing their songs of victory.

The situation of the Maliseets on the River St. John was not without its advantages, and they probably obtained as good a living as any tribe of savages in Canada. Remote from the war paths of the fiercer tribes they hunted in safety. Their forests were filled with game, the rivers teemed with fish and the lakes with water fowl; the sea sh.o.r.e was easy of access, the intervals and islands were naturally adapted to the cultivation of Indian corn, wild grapes grew luxuriantly along the river banks, there were berries in the woods and the sagaab.u.m (or Indian potato) was abundant. Communication with all arts of the surrounding country was easily had by means of the short portages that separated the sources of interlacing rivers and with his light bark canoe the Indian could travel in any direction his necessity or his caprice might dictate.

The characteristics of the Indians of Acadia, whether Micmacs or Maliseets, were in the main identical; usually they were closely allied and not infrequently intermarried Their manners and habits have been described with much fidelity by Champlain, Lescarbot, Denys and other early explorers. Equally accurate and interesting is the graphic description of the savages contained in the narrative of the Jesuit missionary Pierre Biard, who came to America in 1611 and during his sojourn visited the St. John River and places adjacent making Port Royal his headquarters. His narrative, "A Relation of New France, of its Lands, Nature of the Country and of its Inhabitants," was printed at Lyons in 1616. A few extracts, taken from the splendid edition of the Jesuit Relations recently published at Cleveland, will suffice to show that Pierre Biard was not only an intelligent observer but that he handled the pen of a ready writer. "I have said before," he observes, "that the whole country is simply an interminable forest; for there are no open s.p.a.ces except upon the margins of the sea, lakes and rivers. In several places we found the grapes and wild vines which ripened in their season. It was not always the best ground where found them, being full of sand and gravel like that of Bourdeaux. There are a great many of these grapes at St. John River in 46 degrees of lat.i.tude, where also are to be seen many walnut (or b.u.t.ternut), and hazel trees."

This quotation will show how exact and conscientious the old French missionary was in his narration. Beamish Murdoch in Ibis History of Nova Scotia (Vol. 1, p. 21) ventures the observation, "It may perhaps be doubted if the French account about grapes is accurate, as they mention them to have been growing on the banks of the Saint John where, if wild grapes exist, they must be rare." But Biard is right and Murdoch is wrong. Wild grapes naturally grow in great abundance on the islands and intervals of the River St. John and, in spite of the interference of the farmers, are still to be found as far north at least in Woodstock. Biard visited the St. John River in October, 1611, and stayed a day or two at a small trading post on an island near Oak Point. One of the islands in that vicinity the early English settlers afterwards called "Isle of Vines," from the circ.u.mstance that wild grapes grew there in great profusion.

We quote next Father Biard's description of the Indian method of encampment: "Arrived at a certain place, the first thing they do is to build a fire and arrange their camp, which they will have finished in an hour or two; often in half an hour. The women go into the woods and bring back some poles which are stuck into the ground in a circle around the fire and at the top are interlaced in the form of a pyramid, so that they come together directly over the fire, for there is the chimney. Upon the poles they throw some skins, matting or bark.

At the foot of the poles under the skins they put their baggage. All the s.p.a.ce around the fire is strewn with soft boughs of the fire tree, so they will not feel the dampness of the ground; over these boughs are thrown some mats or seal skins as soft as velvet; upon these they stretch themselves around the fire with their heads resting upon their baggage; and, what no one would believe, they are very warm in there around that little fire, even in the greatest rigors of the winter.

They do not camp except near some good water, and in an attractive location."

The aboriginies of Acadia when the country became known to Europeans, no doubt lived as their ancestors had lived from time immemorial. A glimpse of the life of the Indian in prehistoric times is afforded us in the archaeological remains of the period. These are to be found at such places as Bocabec, in Charlotte county, at Grand Lake in Queens county, and at various points along the St. John river. Dr. L. W.

Bailey, Dr. Geo. F. Matthew, Dr. W. F. Ganong, James Vroom, and others have given considerable attention to these relics and they were studied also to some extent by their predecessors in the field of science, Dr. Robb, Dr. Gesner and Moses H. Perley. The relics most commonly brought to light include stone implements, such as axes, hammers, arrow heads, lance and spear heads, gouges and chisels, celts or wedges, corn crushers, and pipes; also bone implements such as needles, fish hooks and harpoons, with specimens of rude pottery.

When Champlain first visited our sh.o.r.es the savages had nothing better than stone axes to use in clearing their lands. It is to their credit that with such rude implements they contrived to hack down the trees and, after burning the branches and trunk, planted their corn among the stumps and in the course of time took out the roots. In cultivating the soil they used an implement of very hard wood, shaped like a spade, and their method of raising corn, as described by Champlain, was exactly the same as that of our farmers today. The corn fields at the old Medoctic Fort were cultivated by the Indians many years before the coming of the whites. Cadillac, writing in 1693, says: "The Maliseets are well shaped and tolerably warlike; they attend to the cultivation of the soil and grow the most beautiful Indian corn; their fort is at Medocktek." Many other choice spots along the St. John river were tilled in very early times, including, probably, the site of the old Government House at Fredericton, where there was an Indian encampment long before the place was dreamed of as the site of the seat of government of the province.

Lescarbot, the historian, who wrote In 1610, tells us that the Indians were accustomed to pound their corn in a mortar (probably of wood) in order to reduce it to meal. Of this they afterwards made a paste, which was baked between two stones heated at the fire. Frequently the corn was roasted on the ear. Yet another method is thus described by the English captive, John Gyles, who lived as a captive with the St.

John river Indians in 1689: "To dry the corn when in the milk, they gather it in large kettles and boil it on the ears till it is pretty hard, then sh.e.l.l it from the cob with clam sh.e.l.ls and dry it on bark in the sun. When it is thoroughly dry a kernel is no bigger than a pea, and will keep years; and when it is boiled again it swells as large as when on the ear and tastes incomparably sweeter than other corn. When we had gathered our corn and dried it in the way described, we put some of it into Indian barns, that is into hole in the ground lined and covered with bark and then with earth. The rest we carried up the river upon our next winter's hunting."

The Indians were a very improvident race, and in this respect the Maliseets were little better than the Micmacs, of whom Pierre Biard writes: "They care little about the future and are not urged on to work except by present necessity. As long as they have anything they are always celebrating feasts and having songs dances and speeches. If there is a crowd of them you certainly need not expect anything else.

Nevertheless if they are by themselves and where they may safely listen to their wives, for women are everywhere the best managers, they will sometimes make storehouses for the winter where they will keep smoked meat, roots, sh.e.l.led acorns, peas, beans, etc."

Although the Indians living on the St. John paid some attention to the cultivation of the soil there can be no doubt that hunting and fis.h.i.+ng were always their chief means of support. In Champlain's day the implements of the chase were very primitive. Yet they were able to hunt the largest game by taking advantage of the deep snow and making use of their snow-shoes. Champlain says. "They search for the track of animals, which, having found, they follow until they get sight of the creature, when they shoot at it with their bows or kill it by means of daggers attached to the end of a short pike. Then the women and children come up, erect a hut and they give themselves to feasting.

Afterwards they proceed in search of other animals and thus they pa.s.s the winter. This is the mode of life of these people, which seems to me a very miserable one."

There can be little doubt that wild game was vastly more abundant in this country, when it was discovered by Europeans, than it is today.

In the days of La Tour and Charnisay as many as three thousand moose skins were collected on the St. John in a single year, and smaller game was even more abundant. Wild fowl ranged the coasts and marshes and frequented the rivers in incredible numbers. Biard says that at certain seasons they were so abundant on the islands that by the skilful use of a club right and left they could bring down birds as big as a duck with every blow. Denys speaks of immense flocks of wild pidgeons. But the Indian's food supply was not limited to these; the rivers abounded with salmon and other fish, turtles were common along the banks of the river, and their eggs, which they lay in the sand, were esteemed a great delicacy, as for the musquash it is regarded as the "Indian's turkey."

A careful examination of the relics discovered at the sites of the old camping grounds suffices to confirm the universal testimony of early writers regarding the nomadic habits of the Indians. They were a restless race of people, for ever wandering from place to place as necessity or caprice impelled them. At one time they were attracted to the sea side where clams, fish and sea fowl abounded; at another they preferred the charms of the inland waters. Sometimes the mere love of change led them to forsake one camping place and remove to some other favorite spot. When game was scarce they were compelled by sheer necessity to seek new hunting grounds. At the proper season they made temporary encampments for salmon fis.h.i.+ng with torch and spear. Anon they tilled their cornfields on the intervals and islands. They had a saying: "When the maple leaf is as big as a squirrel's foot it is time to plant corn." Occasionally the outbreak of some pestilence broke up their encampments and scattered them in all directions. In time of peace they moved leisurely, but in time of war their action was much more vigorous and flotillas of their bark canoes skimmed swiftly over the lakes and rivers bearing the dusky warriors against the enemies of their race. Many a peaceful New England hamlet was startled by their midnight war-whoop when danger was little looked for.

It is a common belief in our day that the Indians were formerly more numerous than they now are. Exactly the same opinion seems to have prevailed when the country was first discovered, but it is really very doubtful whether there were ever many more Indians in the country than there are today. In the year 1611 Biard described them as so few in number that they might be said to roam over rather than to possess the country. He estimated the Maliseets, or Etchemins, as less than a thousand in number "scattered over wide s.p.a.ces, as is natural for those who live by hunting and fis.h.i.+ng." Today the Indians of Maine and New Brunswick living within the same area as the Etchemins of 1611, number considerably more than a thousand souls. There are, perhaps, as many Indians in the maritime provinces now as in the days of Champlain. As Hannay observes, in his History of Acadia, excellent reasons existed to prevent the Indians from ever becoming very numerous. A wilderness country can only support a limited population.

The hunter must draw his sustenance from a very wide range of territory, and the life of toil and privation to which the Indian was exposed was fatal to all but the strongest and most hardy.