The War In The North Part 3

In June 1837 as a consequence of the closure of the Second US Bank, a determination was made that citizens in the disputed area had overpaid their taxes and were due a refund. To that end, a government agent was sent out to accomplish this. A zealous British constable arrested him and hauled him off to the nearest English jail. When he arrived, the local sheriff, alarmed at something so potentially inflammatory, promptly had him released. The Provincial Governor, Harvey, convinced the payments were in fact a bribe to keep the locals loyal to the United States, had the unfortunate man rearrested. A letter from President Van Buren eventually affected his ultimate release.
As tensions remained high, Governor Kent sent General Wood to inspect the fortifications along the Kennebec, Penobscot and St. Croix Rivers, and in a secret session, the Legislature authorized a force of 200 volunteers to drive out the trespassers, seize their equipment and destroy their camps.
In the County, meanwhile, things came to a dramatic head. On December 29, 1838 a group of New Brunswick men were spotted cutting timber on a local estate. When they returned on New Year’s Eve, they were met by an informal, hastily formed militia group, the Eaton Guard. Lines and weapons were drawn, probably with much shouting, cursing and testosterone laden threats. The sudden noise aroused a female black bear with her cub from their winter nap. Suddenly beset by an irate beast, the Canadians let loose a ragged volley. The Americans, sure they were being fired upon returned the favor, at which point they returned the favor. The Canadians immediately retired taking with them two wounded by the bear, but otherwise unscathed. Both sides probably ended the evening around a warm fire with a drop of the cure.
The first company of volunteers under a Captain Rines left Bangor on February 5, 1839 and reached Masardis on the 8th. Caught unaware, the New Brunswickers were captured along with their logging equipment and teams. Rines continued on to the mouth of the Little Madawaska, where the tables were turned and he was captured along with his men, loaded on a sleigh and hurried off to jail in Frederickton.
The remnants of his party retreated to Masardis where they began to fortify the place.
While the elated Canadians began arming a counter-force of about 300 men, Gov. Harvey issued a proclamation stating that sovereign British had been invaded and ordered out 1000 militia.
Things were now looking serious. Fifty more volunteers set out for the scene of action from Augusta.

The War In The North Part 2


The original settlers in the St. John Valley were Acadians, Brayons, who were nominally British subjects, but considered themselves, at least in their hearts, to be citizens of the Republique du Madawaska, which comprised the northwestern corner of New Brunswick within the disputed region. The more recent settlers to the Aroostook Valley were Americans coming up from the south.
In 1825, one such settler, John Baker, petitioned to have the area annexed to the State of Maine. To this end, he and his wife raised a homemade American flag at the junction of Baker Brook (named later for him) and the St. John River, which is now in the town of Ft. Kent. On August 10 he and a few others announced their intention to establish a formal Republic of Madawaska. Acting swiftly, the local British magistrate had Baker arrested on charges of conspiracy and sedition and jailed for two months until his fine of £25 was paid. And so passed the attempt at creating a separate republic. However in 1938 a flag was designed, which hangs in the city hall of Edmundston, NB, and the mayor assumes the honorary title of President of the Republic of Madawaska.
Meanwhile, in New Hampshire a similar situation developed on that state’s northern border, where the boundary was also in dispute. With both Canada and the United States sending in tax and debt collectors, the citizens formed the Republic of Indian Stream to stop it. In 1835, in response to a request from the Republic’s congress, the New Hampshire militia moved in and occupied the area. This request had followed an incident in which some of the Indian Streamers had “invaded” Canada to rescue a fellow citizen arrested for unpaid debt at a local hardware store. In the process, the “invaders” shot up the local judge’s home. Horrified, the British ambassador in Washington negotiated a settlement, and in 1840, the Republic of Indian Stream entered the U.S. as the town of Pittsburg, NH.
Back in Maine, as winter closed in, farmhands, freed from that work entered the woods as lumberjacks, becoming a source of contention as both Maine and Massachusetts moved to protect their resources.
In 1830, in an attempt to ease the growing tensions, the U.S. and British governments asked William, the King of Holland to arbitrate the dispute and develop a border suitable to both sides. His solution, which ironically, was very similar to the current border was accepted by the British, but rejected by Maine and Massachusetts because it gave away territory inhabited by tax paying Americans. As an incentive, to offset the loss, the Federal government offered one million acres from the territory that was to become Michigan. What Maine would have done with that if accepted can only be left to conjecture. And so the dispute remained unresolved.

The World's Briefest Trip Abroad

Paul and Sylvia Nadeau are two of our best friends. We met while Paul and I were still in the Army Reserve and both are from Aroostook County (The County to Mainers). For a number of years, as part of our reserve duties, Paul and I were required to travel to The County to inspect military skills classes being held at the National Guard armories there. Our unit was a school with classes being taught at local centers, Paul and I acting as school principals. It was during one of these trips that we took the shortest trip on record into Canada.
Aroostook County occupies about the northern third of Maine and is inhabited by about 10% of the state’s population. It consists of many heavily forested acres and the big sky of farm land. Potatoes are the largest crop grown. The southern half is made up of mainly of folks tracing their ancestry to the British Isles, while the northern half, predominantly the St. John River valley (The Valley) is comprised of people descended from the early French settlers, most of whom still speak French, and English with a delightful accent: French with a hint of Celtic lilt. Sandwiched in between is a small colony of Swedes in the towns of Stockholm, New Sweden and Westmanland.
The greatest people in Maine live there. They are good humored, and a person’s intelligence is measured not by college credits but by common sense. Our Senator Susan Collins, who operates with such an intelligence not common in Washington, is herself a County girl.
During the time I was in State servitude, I would travel to The County with the Maine State Police, another of my favorite group of folks, where we would conduct school bus driver training. It was not uncommon to hear drivers discussing the merits of vehicles in French. We would know what they were talking about because the words, “automatic transmission” and “air brakes,” could be heard from time to time. At one point, one of my trooper colleagues was asked if he could speak French. To his negative reply, he was asked, “Then how does it feel to be dumber than a Frenchman.” Great folks these.
Although I don’t miss working for the state, I miss the great people I had the privilege to hang out with. Take for example, Jim Grandmaison, of the Ft. Kent School District. His name translates to “Big House,” but his decidedly French speaking secretary loved it when I called asking either for Mr. Big House or Senor Casa Grande. He always claimed that to come south, he parked his car, an alleged ’54 Studebaker in Medway (look that up on the map) where he would pick it up after a dog sled run south.
But I digress. Paul and I had to inspect the classes held there, so we would drive north on Friday, stay at the farm with Virgil and Althea, Sylvia's father and stepmother, and Saturday morning would find us in one of the armories. We tried to get done by noon to allow time for some trout fishing or bird hunting for Saturday supper as the seasons allowed.
Now, our pride was that we held the only classes in basic artillery skills, and nuclear, biological and chemical defense in the entire US Army that were held in French; that being with the battery in Ft. Kent.
One year, long before 9/11 as we were up there, the price of gasoline was significantly lower in Canada than the US, and with the armory literally a snowball’s throw from the border, we crossed over the bridge, dressed in our US Army uniforms, asked the friendly Canadian border agent for the location of the nearest gas station, and ten minutes later pulled up at the US Immigration Service gate to come back in. The guard looked at us, two uniformed commissioned officers, and asked how long we had been in Canada. Paul looked at his watch and said with a big smile, “Ten minutes.” “What are you bringing back?” “A tank of gas.” With a laugh and shake of his head he waved us through.
Life was a little simpler then.