Voices of Vermont Women

Written By Eliza West

Womenspeak was developed by Vermont Folklife for the 2006 Vermont History Expo as a part of the Vermont Women's History Project.  In addition to presenting the Womenspeak multimedia interactive at Vermont History Expo, Vermont Folklife staff members conducted on-site interviews as a part of the our Womenspeak documentary project.

For additional information on any of the women featured here please contact Vermont Folklife .

Hear from these women:

Jeanne Brink - Barre, VT

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Jeanne is a descendant of the Obomsawin family of Thompson's Point, Vermont, and Odanak Reserve in Quebec, Canada, well-known Abenaki basketmakers who practiced their craft in the region until 1959. She is continuing the Obomsawin tradition of fine craftsmanship in traditional Abenaki ash splint and sweetgrass basketry. Jeanne also draws upon her Abenaki family history as a Native American presenter and consultant to schools, colleges, libraries, and organizations throughout New England and New York. She holds an M.A. in Native American Studies from Vermont College of Norwich University.

Her family story of an English raid on the St. Francis Abenaki community formed the basis of the Vermont Folklife Center Children's Book, Malian's Song.

 

  • Jeanne Brink always felt close to her grandmother, but she was awestruck when she learned that her grandmother had been keeper of a narrative passed down through several generations of her family. Ethnologist Gordon Day recorded a number of Elvine’s recollections in Abenaki and one of these was the story that described an 18th century raid by the English on the St. Francis Abenaki settlement in Quebec--an event memorialized in Vermont history textbooks as "Rogers' Raid".

  • Jeanne: I mean, I just saw her as this lady that had some strange behaviors, that was Indian, that talked Indian to her sister and her brother. And it wasn't until I read Gordon's article about Rodger's raid that I realized that she knew this amazing piece of history. Abenaki History, that no ethnologist or historian or non-native person had ever heard the Abenaki version. And to me it was...I mean, I then saw her in a different light. Not just this lady that had some eccentricities, but that she had this important piece of history. And I don't know if she even realized that it was that important because she wasn't like that. So I begin to see her in a different way. Unfortunately, it was too late because she was...had passed on. But, the one thing my mother always tells me, since I started doing all of this work with the Abenaki and my mom has always said, "Grandma would be so happy and to know that you're doing this." And I think she does know. I believe she does.

  • After Robert Rogers and his men destroyed the St. Francis village, Jeanne Brink’s ancestor, Malian Obomsawin composed a lament still referred to as the “Lonesome Song.” Here, Jeanne reads the Gordon Day’s English translation of the “Lonesome Song.”

  • Jeanne: Very often Abenakis would make up a song to remember certain things. And for the raid, Roger's Raid on Saint Francis, they made up a song called "The Lonesome Song." And I have a tape where my grandmother sings that song and I can read it to you in Abenaki. I can't sing it because I'm not a singer. [ Jeanne reads in Abenaki ] Which means: "I am lonesome. I am lonesome. Our village grows up to trees. Malian is very lonesome. There is no friend anywhere."

    And my grandmother sings the four lines. And then she says, "That's all I can remember." But it's known as The Lonesome Song. And at Odanak even, it's known still as The Lonesome Song.

  • Jeanne describes her reaction to seeing the depiction of Rogers' Raid in the film, Northwest Passage.

  • One night I couldn't sleep and I happened to turn the TV on and what was on TV but Northwest Passage movie with Spencer Tracy. And it was at the part where they raided the village of Old St. Francis. And to see that movie, especially at that part and to see...realize myself, that my relative was killed during that time. The film also I could point, pick out inaccuracies of...that movie has a huge drum, the biggest drum in the world, I think. I don't know where they would have gotten the deer hide or the hide large enough to fit that drum because they had people dancing on top of it. We know that that was impossible. And they had teepees in the movie. And we know that there were houses with windowsills because of the story. And that there were people coming out of teepees. And we know that there weren't that many people there because they went and hid. But it was just a very eerie feeling to see this movie when you know that one of your relatives died in that actual battle.

  • The book, Malian's Song, is based on an eyewitness Abenaki account of Robert Rogers’ 1759 raid on the Abenaki village of St. Francis. For many years the only information about the raid included in history textbooks was based on Robert Rogers’official report. In 1959 ethnologist Gordon Day recorded Elvine Obomsawin Royce telling a very different story of the raid that had been passed down in her family for generations. Here Jeanne Brink, granddaughter of Elvine, reads an English translation of her grandmother’s story.

  • Jeanne: Elvine is speaking. When we lived with that Mary she told us the way of living at Odanak. Her grandmother at that time was little, and the "Indians" at that time in the fall were dancing. Already the harvest was all gathered. As they say in English, "Harvest festivities" for the harvesting in the fall in "Indian summer." And they danced and sometimes celebrated late, dancing and sometimes going out because it was a nice, cool night. They rested, some went to smoke and rest. And one, a young girl, a young woman, she did not immediately go in when the others went in. When they went into the council house to dance again, that one, the young girl, the young woman did not go in because it was cool and she stayed outside. She remained longer outside, and it was dark. It was very dark. And when she was ready to go in at the start of the dancing inside the house, when she was ready to go in, then someone stopped her. He said, "Don't be afraid." An "Indian," you understand? He said, "Friend, I am your friend, and those enemies, those strange Iroquois, they are there in the little woods, planning that when all Abenakis leave for home, they will kill them all, their husbands, and burn your village. And I come to warn you. And surely The young woman went into the council house, the dancing place, and she warned the other "Indians" what he told. She warned what she had been warned. And some did not believe her because she was so young. Because she was a child. Some of them stopped and went home to see about their children and get ready to run away. And some of them did not listen to that young girl, the young woman.

    Now my aunt, the one who raised us, we lost our mother early. She took us to care for. She was the one that tells us about her grandmother at that time. My aunt was about 60 years old. Her grandmother was young at the time of the fight and some Indians at hurried home. They stopped dancing and went home and they went to see about their people, their children, in order to run away as soon as possible so they could hide. And my aunt was the one who told us, who passed it on to us from her grandmother. Our aunt's great grandfather gathered a light. They gathered the children in the dark. You can be sure. (I made a mistake.) Our aunt's great grandfather gathered everyone. It was dark, of course. In the dark no one kindled a light. They gathered their children in the dark, you can be sure. And they left to hide somewhere where they could not find them. Of course, it was night at that time and they hid in a big ravine where they could not find them. And that man, the old man, they counted their children there where it is deep, and they counted their children to see if they were all there. And one had been left. My aunt's grandmother was the one who was missing, and she did not know that she was alone in the house. But already she was awake and she was sitting at the foot of the bed and she was looking out of the window, leaning on the windowsill. She was singing. She was calmly singing to herself. She did not even know that the others were gone.

    Suddenly then her father quickly entered in the dark, entering quickly, and he took her. He found her singing, this one. Right away. He took her and left as quickly as he possibly could to the ravine. The big ravine that is where Eli Nolette's house is now. That's where the ravine is, at the pines. That's what they call it at Odanak. "At the pines." And there they hid the "Indians," the Abenaki. And my great great grandfather, the great Obomsawin, the great Simon, he crossed the river just as the sun was rising. Just as the sun is seen first. He didn't arrive soon enough, and just at that time, he is almost across the river when the sun showed. And his hat, something shone on his hat. Something that he wore. And there he was shot down on the other side. He was the only one to get across. All that were with the houses, well, that was when they burned the village. The others, surely many were killed of the others. All that were with the houses.

    That’s it.



  • The original 1959 recording, in Abenaki, of Elvine Obomsawin Royce telling the story of Rogers’ Raid

  • Description text goes here

  • Jeanne talks about a characteristic element of Abenaki culture.

  • My mother told me that they were, she and her sister were raised by praise. They were never spanked or scolded. That my grandmother would give them praise for when they did well. And if you didn't get that praise, then you knew you needed to do better. But my grandmother never spanked them. And that's definitely Native American way.

Claire Chase - Jericho, VT

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Claire Chase was born in Winooski into a Franco American family. As a child she spoke only French and it wasn't until she was six and attended school, that she began to learn English. From her childhood she recalls the importance of family, the extended family and the significance of being part of a greater whole. She particularly remembered New Years where her mother would ask her father for his blessing, the songs, the delicious food and then more songs. Her grandfather had a huge repertoire of songs and stories and storytelling was a regular part of Claire's daily life. Her parents would tell her bedtime stories they had heard as children and on holidays, but the grandchildren particularly enjoyed it when their grandfather would hold forth. The only light would be from the wood stove and he would begin every tale with "I will tell you a story, however, it's not a story. It's a fact. It happened back home, a long time ago." Often these stories were scary, fantastical legends and stories of the supernatural. Most of these stories make up Claire's own repertoire which she passed on to her three daughters and her daughters' children as well.

  • Claire tells the traditional French Canadian ghost story on which the Vermont Folklife Center children's book,The Ghost on the Hearth is based.

  • Claire: It was the habit in those days of our farm families who were a little bit better off than others, to take in children of others to work for them. And that way they took some of the burden off the family where there were a lot of children. So this particular farm family had this young girl come in and help. And so she was a very young girl, she was only maybe 14 years old, 13 or 14 years old. And so the woman told her what her duties were. And then she said, "Every night before going to bed, you must be sure to scrape all the wax off the hearth," because in those days, candles were made out of suet and tallow. And they, that on the hearth so she said, "You must scrape it every night and clean that up."

    So the girl said, "Okay." So time went on and the girl was very, very good and the family had no complaints. Then the girl suddenly took sick and died. And so the family, you know, felt very, very bad about it. And so they got another girl, another neighbor's daughter to come and help out. And again, the woman went through the whole thing with her that every night the girl was supposed to, you know, scrape the tallow off the hearth...the candle wax. So the girl said, "Fine." And so the next morning, after the girl had come in, the woman got up and she looked at the hearth and there was candle wax. She said to the girl, "Didn't I tell you to clean the hearth before you went to bed? That's very important!" She said, "I did." The woman said, "Well, look, now I'll overlook it this time," but she said, "You must do this every night. No excuses."

    So the following night the family went to bed, and in the morning the woman in the house looked and there was candle wax on the hearth. Well, that time she was very annoyed and she said to the girl, "Look, I've gone through this with you. I told you this is inexcusable. You've got to clean this every night." The girl said, "I did." The woman said, "Well, if you did, why is the candle wax there?" So the girl start crying, she said "But I did." "So I'll give you one more chance." And she said, "If the same thing happens again, you have to go back home." So the family went to bed and of course, the next morning when they got up, the first thing the woman did was go to the hearth to see. And there again was the candle wax. Well, this time she scolded the girl, you know very harshly and told her she said, "You know, there is something wrong here." She said, "I've told you time and time again." The girl kept pleading with her and telling her that she had done it. She had cleaned the hearth. And the woman said, "Well, tonight then you're going to have to stay awake all night and stay awake and see why the candle wax is there in the morning."

    So the girl did. Well, of course, she fell asleep and the woman got up in the morning. The girl was sound asleep in a chair and a candle wax was on the hearth. So the the woman said, "Okay, this just is not going to work out. She sent the girl back home and she said to her family, "We're going to have to do this ourselves." So she saw to it herself that there was no candle wax on the hearth at night and went to bed. When they got up in the morning, there was candle wax on the hearth. The woman said, "Well no, there's a mystery here. Something's wrong." So she said all the family members would have to take turns, you know, staying awake and see what was happening. Well, they did. And it happened again and again. Finally, the husband said, "Well, I guess it's time I took over it and I will stay up tonight and I will watch.

    Well, when they got up the next morning, same thing again, candle wax on the hearth. So the wife said, "I thought you going to stay awake all night?" He said, "I did. Well...I have to admit that I did fall asleep towards morning, but nothing happened." The woman said, "There's only one thing to do, I will do it." So that night she sat and she took her knitting and she sat there by the hearth, by the firelight. And she just kept on all night. Well, finally, it got to be too much for her; she began to doze off and she dozed off.

    And all of a sudden she jerked awake and she looked, and there on the hearth is a girl kneeling. And it's the girl who had died. And she looked up and she said, "Emily's, is that you?" And the girl said, "Yes, ma'am." "But it can't be you." She said, "You're dead." She said, "I know, but you know, while I was alive and worked for you," she said, "You know, every night when you went to bed, whatever was left of the candles, I would take home to my family because we're so poor we couldn't afford any candles. I didn't think you'd mind," but she said "I kept taking them home and when I died, I've been condemned to come back and every night burn as many candles here as I took home." And the woman said, "Oh, my dear child," she said, "If you had only asked me for the candle ends I would have given them to you. She said, "Go in peace." And they were never bothered with candle wax anymore.

  • Claire shares another traditional French Canadian story of the supernatural, The Devil at the Wedding.

  • Claire: In my grandfather's house we all would gather around him and we would beg him to tell us stories. And we'd turn off all the lights. They didn't have electricity in their house, there was lamps. So we'd turn off all the lamps and the only light was the glow from the stove, the potbellied stove. One particular story that I enjoyed very much told the story of a of a man, a prosperous farmer who had an only child, a daughter, and she was going to be married. And the father said, "This is going to be the wedding that generations will remember. It's going to be the fanciest, the best wedding ever."

    So he decided it was going to be a dance. And of course, in those days in Canada, the priest frowned on dancing as sinful. So anyway, the wedding came and the father, the farmer, got fiddlers to come and he invited everyone. So when the party was in full swing, there was a knock on the door and the farmer went to open the door and there stood a very tall stranger dressed in a top hat and tails. And the stranger went to the bride and he asked if he could have this dance. And she said "Yes." She was flattered, he was so handsome. And as the dance started, the music, you know, speeded up a lot. And they danced faster and faster, and after a while, the handsome stranger was dancing with the bride and almost everyone else had pulled off to the side to watch them dance. But the music kept move faster and faster and faster.

    So as the music kept, you know, the tempo increased and they danced faster and faster, all at once someone came into the door and it was the priest. And the priest saw what was going on and he had holy water with him and he sprinkled the stranger and the bride with the holy water. And as he did so, the stranger let out a scream and he bolted for the door. And as he went, his hand touched the doorjamb as he went out the door. And after he left where his hand had touched, the wood was burned. Of course, the moral of the story was that that was the devil and the fact, you know, the fact that the man, the farmer had disobeyed the priest's command, you know.

    But when he told that story, you know, at night when we went to bed, we sort of looked in at back of the door, just to make sure there was no one there.

Eliza West