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Praetorium Honoris

Friday, May 14, 2021

The Cannitticutt¹

(Source)

Just before the bow of the canoe scraped the bottom of the river, Jacques had jumped out and was now pulling the vessel ashore. His brother Alain soon followed and had also waded ashore, they had learned through harsh experience that a rough river bottom could tear the bottom out of a birch bark canoe.

Once the canoe was firmly ashore, the brothers listened to the sounds around them. On the riverbank the sounds of the forest continued unabated - the song birds, the insects, the distant chittering of a squirrel all blended together to give the men a sense of comfort. Only when the forest went silent was there danger.

To the north was a continuous dull roar signifying nearby falls. Both men knew that they would shortly have to portage around that part of the river, hopefully the falls weren't too extensive. The last one had cost them a day and a half. While they were in no hurry, there was a certain urgency to return to Montréal. While it was still summer, it was late summer, autumn was not all that far away.


The boys had come to the New World with their father when both were still young, Jacques had been four and Alain six. Their father, Étienne, had been a farm laborer in Gascony. When the land he had worked since childhood had been sold to an aristocrat from Bordeaux, all of the families who made their living there were evicted.

Étienne had taken his family to Bordeaux and had found work as a day laborer, working on projects throughout the city. Eventually he found work as a fisherman, something he soon discovered that he enjoyed. Unfortunately that occupation took him away from home for long periods of time. The cod fishing along the coast of the New World required a long journey across the Atlantic.

While returning from one such journey, Étienne had resolved to take his family to the New World, people there ate fish didn't they? One of the other men on the boat had extolled the benefits of New France to Étienne, so that was that.

Upon his return to Bordeaux his reunion with his wife Marie was short lived. She sickened and died of the bloody flux within two weeks of his returning home. So he took the two boys and convinced the captain of his fishing boat to take them to the New World, he would work their way over, Étienne would forego his share of the catch, paying the way for the boys.

Upon landing in New France at Port Royale, Étienne had found a job on the docks, he couldn't very well continue going to sea when the boys were still young.

After a year on the docks Étienne had heard that there was money to made in the backwoods of New France as a trapper. So he picked up and moved deeper into New France, eventually making his way to Montréal, his two sons in tow.

Years passed, Jacques and Alain followed their father into the wilderness and learned to trap and to hunt. Étienne made himself welcome in the camps of the native peoples of the region, by the time the boys reached their late teens, they looked more Wyandot than French, which helped them to blend in when out in the wild. Until one day when the boys traveled down The Great River. They would be entering lands where the Wyandot were looked upon as enemies.

(Source)

Suspicious eyes were focused on the two young men from a nearby stand of maples. The two were dressed as the Wyandot dressed but they did not cut their hair as those people did. Their facial features were all wrong as well.

The leader of the small hunting band looked at his three companions, while they could have easily overwhelmed the two men, they wanted to speak to their sachem first. The river valley had been at peace the entire summer, the leader, a man called Tall Elk, did not wish to disturb that peace. He gestured at two of the band, they would follow the strangers.

Turning to his brother he nodded and moved off, and his brother, Little Wolf, followed. Let the sachem decide this, Tall Elk thought, he had no desire to take to the warpath, let other men make the decision to shed blood or not.


"Alain, this river is full of fish, we should catch some for our supper." Jacques was going through their baggage, he had a fishing net for this very purpose and he was very tired of eating pemmican. Fresh fish would be a treat.

Alain was nervous, he sensed that they were being watched. His younger brother was not cautious enough for his tastes. Encroaching on a tribe's territory was fraught with danger. They were far to the south on the Great River, further than anyone had gone before. He didn't know what people inhabited this area. He had been told that a branch of the Iroquois confederation, the Mohican,² lived in this area.

The Iroquois were friendly with the English and hated the Wyandot, being caught by them would mean a long lingering death by torture.

"Jacques, be quiet, I think we are being watched. Let's get back onto the water, we can make the falls by dusk I think. There is something here which frightens me."

Jacques realized that his brother was very nervous, he also knew that his brother knew how to avoid trouble. Without another word, the two brothers slid their canoe back into the river.


The sachem was an old man of sixty-three winters, he had led his tribe for a long time and was respected for both his wisdom and his wit. Though his hair was as white as the snows of winter, a fire still burned inside of him.

"Two men, dressed like Wyandot, but not Wyandot?"

Tall Elk nodded and added that the men didn't look like anyone he had ever seen, narrow noses and facial hair.

"These men may be the friends of the Wyandot, les français. The men along the great water to the north. Go back, do not molest them. If they dress like the Wyandot they may be enemies of our enemies. It does not make them friends, but they are not our enemies. Watch them until they leave our lands."

Tall Elk stood, "We shall go back in the morning, it will be night soon and I would rather sleep with my wife tonight instead of some raccoon in the woods."

The sachem chuckled, "Then go in the morning."



¹ The word "Connecticut" is a corruption of the Mohegan word quinetucket, which means "beside the long, tidal river". The word came into English during the early 1600s to name the river, which was also called simply "The Great River". It was also known as the Fresh River, and the Dutch called it the Verse River.

Early spellings of the name by European explorers included "Cannitticutt" in French or in English. (Source)

² Not to be confused with the Mohegan, a different tribe. Also spelled "Mahican."

Link to all of the Chant's fiction.

32 comments:

  1. "...enemies of our enemies." looking forward to this one.

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  2. So it starts......(insert Spanky "Oh Boy" GLF).

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  3. Doggone it, I was looking forward to some of that fresh fish cooked over an open fire!

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    1. Back in those days a cookout in the wilderness could be fatal!

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  4. I am liking this already. I always felt I was born in the wrong era.....This seems to be my forte right here!!

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  5. Very good capturing of the mood Sarge.

    It is odd (well, at least odd to me) to think that in a land of what is, in a great many ways, a monoculture, at one time was full of subcultures and different languages (to be fair, I have the same complaint about how smaller cultures were sort of gently or ungently eased out to pasture in Europe as well).

    "Les Francais" always seemed to be a little more sensible about how they interacted with the cultures they encountered.

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    1. They still are in many ways.

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    2. Fair, Sarge. Throughout my various historical studies, I have not paid as much attention to the French as I perhaps should have. Mayhap your writing will renew an interest and enable me to fill in (yet) another gap in my knowledge.

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    3. The French are often mocked for their dismal performance in 1940 against the Germans. There were many reasons for that (having been bled white in WWI was one). We Americans tend to forget that without French help the Revolution might have failed, in fact, probably would have.

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    4. Yep. Bled to almost ending France. And the psychic wounds went very deep.

      As to France helping us, it was royal France. As soon as the administration changed, they got froggy with us on the seas. A lot of good men who helped us were fed into the slaughter of Madame Gulloutine and the Mob. Then Imperial France did us a solid by selling us their remaining territories on the continent. And then, after the administration changed, went and messed up an already messed up Mexico.

      Le Sigh.

      Of course, it's not been the average Jacques or Marie who's doing this, it's the idiot politicians who caused all the issues. Bleh. Politicians. Bleh.

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    5. Aye, politicians. A pox on their houses!

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  6. The Wyandot have an interesting history. Too, they are spread far and wide, even to Utah, and by their own volition.

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  7. Hey AFSarge;

    Excellent Start, I can't wait to where your muse takes us.(Insert Flounder from Animal House) and don't forget the guys from Germany, you can let your muse circle back to them a bit also if you want?

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    1. I'm sure I'll want to check in with the guys who went from Normandy to Czechoslovakia.

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  8. Looks like this will be a good read. I can recommend "The War That Made America" by Fred Anderson for a very good history of the French and Indian War. That war seems to be largely forgotten in US history classes but it certainly set the stage for the later Revolutionary War. It was a three way battle between the English, French and Indians (who were on both sides) and with the Indians ending up the biggest losers. Also for great and accurate paintings of the eastern woodland Indians check out Lee Teter. I understand that he was a consultant for the movie "Last of the Mohicans" as an expert on Indian clothing, etc. (I know I still call them "Indians") Thanks for the blog.

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    1. The French and Indian War is often neglected in studies of our history. Looks like I need to read that book, it looks very good.

      I still call the original people "Indians." If it was good enough for Russell Means and Dennis Banks of the AIM (American Indian Movement), it's good enough for me.

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  9. In the beginning we have a canoe...and so it starts!

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  10. And ... we're off! Thank you for my new first-look of the day!

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  11. Ah, two hearty Voyageurs. Quoi? Not wearing tuques or the ever more fashionable longer version, with tassel?

    I've always admired the style and dash of the Voyageurs. Their outfits just look comfortable and more sane than a lot of clothing of the period. Love to be able to pull that off. But, of course, first thing would be for Florida to cool about 30 degrees overall. Second would be to replace all the wool with synthetics as am deathly, well, scratchly allergic to wool...

    And French muskets were so much better proportioned. A friend who did Rev War said French Charleville muskets were meant to look good on the shoulder, while the English Brown Bess were meant to look good in a rack or a stack. There's something to be said for that thought. The only sweeter shoulder arm of the period would be the evolving jaeger rifle from the Pennsylvania area as it evolved into the 'Kentucky long rifle.'

    You sucked me into the story right away. Great job.

    The only 'Indian' stories that sucked me in as quickly were written by Holling Clancy Holling, notably "The Indians." A wonderful children's book also beautifully illustrated by HCH. If you all have any grandkids out there, the whole line of books by HCH are a must. "Pagoo," "Paddle to the Sea," "Minn of the Mississippi," "The Cowboys," "Seabird," and more were my friends growing up. A tad expensive if you can find them, but well worth it.

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    1. I haven't really nailed down the time period yet, so they might be simple Coureurs de bois. The voyageurs were licensed whereas the C d b were free lancers. Ya know how much gubmints love that.

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  12. I learned in the world war one museum in Kansas City yesterday that one and three French men were killed in the great war.

    Start of this story reminds me of James Michener Centennial with the French trappers going to Colorado.

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    1. The loss of males in WWI significantly lowered the French birth rate.

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  13. Sarge the pron peddler- creating more lust for his tales.
    A great opening!
    JB

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