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A Short Story byLoading...
Kate CookLoading...
The Musical SeigneurLoading...
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Author of best selling book The Chick and the Unicorn
Jew/Jaw Harp
The Jaw harp is an artifact from New France. It is from around the year 1697. They could be found in all major cities in New France. It was used as a musical instrument to be played by your fingers, close to your lips. That makes vibrations which make the sounds! Merchants in New France owned hundreds of these small instruments. They were relatively cheap, and could be sold to all kinds of people. They are made of brass or iron. European traders brought them to North America. They were originally from Asia, where they could have also been made out of bamboo. This artifact is from the Virtual Museum of New France. It inspired my historical short story “The Musical Seigneur” as well as life and settlement in New France.
The Jaw harp is an artifact from New France. It is from around the year 1697. They could be found in all major cities in New France. It was used as a musical instrument to be played by your fingers, close to your lips. That makes vibrations which make the sounds! Merchants in New France owned hundreds of these small instruments. They were relatively cheap, and could be sold to all kinds of people. They are made of brass or iron. European traders brought them to North America. They were originally from Asia, where they could have also been made out of bamboo. This artifact is from the Virtual Museum of New France. It inspired my historical short story “The Musical Seigneur” as well as life and settlement in New France.
I walked down the twisty road from our rather large house. Today was market day. It was not like I needed anything in particular, but I liked to browse. Return some of the kindness that the merchants showed me with a bit of coin. As usual, I had my boy on my mind during my shoppings. It was his 10th birthday coming up. As I passed by all the usual merchants, I saw one that struck me as odd. Instead of selling the usual furs and maple syrup treats, he was selling music. Well, not music exactly, rather instruments. I purchased a fine beaver pelt from a merchant on the left. Then, I approached that strange vendor. We haggled for a bit, and eventually landed on the beaver pelt for one of his Jaw harps. I asked him how he played it. He placed one end against his cheek, and made the other end vibrate with his hand. Out of it came the most magical music I had ever heard. It wasn’t sweet or light, but exquisite. I could have imagined rain dropping onto a puddle, or a frog hopping from lily pad to lily pad.
I brought it home, and wrapped it up in a spare piece of cloth. The next day, on my son’s birthday, I gave it to him. He had always loved music. I knew that life as a seigneur did not allow for such luxuries, but he could enjoy it before he grew up.
I brought it home, and wrapped it up in a spare piece of cloth. The next day, on my son’s birthday, I gave it to him. He had always loved music. I knew that life as a seigneur did not allow for such luxuries, but he could enjoy it before he grew up.
I walked down the twisty road from our rather large house. Today was market day. It was not like I needed anything in particular, but I liked to browse. Return some of the kindness that the merchants showed me with a bit of coin. As usual, I had my boy on my mind during my shoppings. It was his 10th birthday coming up. As I passed by all the usual merchants, I saw one that struck me as odd. Instead of selling the usual furs and maple syrup treats, he was selling music. Well, not music exactly, rather instruments. I purchased a fine beaver pelt from a merchant on the left. Then, I approached that strange vendor. We haggled for a bit, and eventually landed on the beaver pelt for one of his Jaw harps. I asked him how he played it. He placed one end against his cheek, and made the other end vibrate with his hand. Out of it came the most magical music I had ever heard. It wasn’t sweet or light, but exquisite. I could have imagined rain dropping onto a puddle, or a frog hopping from lily pad to lily pad.
I brought it home, and wrapped it up in a spare piece of cloth. The next day, on my son’s birthday, I gave it to him. He had always loved music. I knew that life as a seigneur did not allow for such luxuries, but he could enjoy it before he grew up.
I brought it home, and wrapped it up in a spare piece of cloth. The next day, on my son’s birthday, I gave it to him. He had always loved music. I knew that life as a seigneur did not allow for such luxuries, but he could enjoy it before he grew up.
My job, as seigneur, was to take care of our little square of land. On it, there were a few villages. I work for the King. He gave me this land in return for military service. I let people live on my land in return for a 14th of their harvests.
SON
The day I got that Jaw harp, I knew things would never be the same. My father gave me the package, and I eagerly unwrapped it to find the one thing I had always dreamed of. Music. I lifted it to my lips, and couldn’t make a sound. I flipped it around, maybe it was the wrong way. But still nothing. It’s been 7 years now. Still nothing. My father wants me to take over for him. But I can’t. I won’t. I want to follow music. It sings to me. At dinner today, my father finally confronted me. “You must take over!” He screams. “No,” I calmly say back. I never yell. It doesn’t help. “Cassier, you have to. I can’t be here forever. The king needs someone new. Someone young to serve him.” “But I can’t,” I scream back. “You don’t understand. I have to play music.” Suddenly an icy calm falls over my aging father. “You couldn’t play a simple Jaw harp.” He says. “Music is nothing. Nothing to you. It doesn’t owe you anything. You will never be able to make something sound beautiful.”
SON
The day I got that Jaw harp, I knew things would never be the same. My father gave me the package, and I eagerly unwrapped it to find the one thing I had always dreamed of. Music. I lifted it to my lips, and couldn’t make a sound. I flipped it around, maybe it was the wrong way. But still nothing. It’s been 7 years now. Still nothing. My father wants me to take over for him. But I can’t. I won’t. I want to follow music. It sings to me. At dinner today, my father finally confronted me. “You must take over!” He screams. “No,” I calmly say back. I never yell. It doesn’t help. “Cassier, you have to. I can’t be here forever. The king needs someone new. Someone young to serve him.” “But I can’t,” I scream back. “You don’t understand. I have to play music.” Suddenly an icy calm falls over my aging father. “You couldn’t play a simple Jaw harp.” He says. “Music is nothing. Nothing to you. It doesn’t owe you anything. You will never be able to make something sound beautiful.”
Then I’m running. My Jaw harp clutched in my fist.
I make it to the Aboriginals’ village. They take me in. Show me how to hunt and skin beavers for their pelts. I live there for several years. I learn their language. But war is brewing. They want more territory. And they want it from the king. They treat me as one of their own, but I can’t take land from my people. I leave. It’s time to go back and confront my father. He must find someone else to become seigneur. I rehearse what I’m going to say in my head. How I will tell him. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice something strange. Today should be market day, but the street is deserted. The only one there is the merchant with musical instruments. “What happened?” I asked him. “Haven’t you heard? Your father is dead. The rest of your family, gone. The river was poisoned. Anyone who ate the fish that lived in it died.” I knew which fish he meant. They were particularly expensive, and my father had a taste for them. I didn’t know what to do. Where to go. So I left that deserted town with no ruler. I hiked back to the First Nations village, where everybody was so welcoming. But they weren’t as welcoming as before. They no longer saw me as one of their own. So I left there too. I made camp in the woods.
I make it to the Aboriginals’ village. They take me in. Show me how to hunt and skin beavers for their pelts. I live there for several years. I learn their language. But war is brewing. They want more territory. And they want it from the king. They treat me as one of their own, but I can’t take land from my people. I leave. It’s time to go back and confront my father. He must find someone else to become seigneur. I rehearse what I’m going to say in my head. How I will tell him. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice something strange. Today should be market day, but the street is deserted. The only one there is the merchant with musical instruments. “What happened?” I asked him. “Haven’t you heard? Your father is dead. The rest of your family, gone. The river was poisoned. Anyone who ate the fish that lived in it died.” I knew which fish he meant. They were particularly expensive, and my father had a taste for them. I didn’t know what to do. Where to go. So I left that deserted town with no ruler. I hiked back to the First Nations village, where everybody was so welcoming. But they weren’t as welcoming as before. They no longer saw me as one of their own. So I left there too. I made camp in the woods.
Then I’m running. My Jaw harp clutched in my fist.
I make it to the Aboriginals’ village. They take me in. Show me how to hunt and skin beavers for their pelts. I live there for several years. I learn their language. But war is brewing. They want more territory. And they want it from the king. They treat me as one of their own, but I can’t take land from my people. I leave. It’s time to go back and confront my father. He must find someone else to become seigneur. I rehearse what I’m going to say in my head. How I will tell him. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice something strange. Today should be market day, but the street is deserted. The only one there is the merchant with musical instruments. “What happened?” I asked him. “Haven’t you heard? Your father is dead. The rest of your family, gone. The river was poisoned. Anyone who ate the fish that lived in it died.” I knew which fish he meant. They were particularly expensive, and my father had a taste for them. I didn’t know what to do. Where to go. So I left that deserted town with no ruler. I hiked back to the First Nations village, where everybody was so welcoming. But they weren’t as welcoming as before. They no longer saw me as one of their own. So I left there too. I made camp in the woods.
I make it to the Aboriginals’ village. They take me in. Show me how to hunt and skin beavers for their pelts. I live there for several years. I learn their language. But war is brewing. They want more territory. And they want it from the king. They treat me as one of their own, but I can’t take land from my people. I leave. It’s time to go back and confront my father. He must find someone else to become seigneur. I rehearse what I’m going to say in my head. How I will tell him. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice something strange. Today should be market day, but the street is deserted. The only one there is the merchant with musical instruments. “What happened?” I asked him. “Haven’t you heard? Your father is dead. The rest of your family, gone. The river was poisoned. Anyone who ate the fish that lived in it died.” I knew which fish he meant. They were particularly expensive, and my father had a taste for them. I didn’t know what to do. Where to go. So I left that deserted town with no ruler. I hiked back to the First Nations village, where everybody was so welcoming. But they weren’t as welcoming as before. They no longer saw me as one of their own. So I left there too. I made camp in the woods.
The Aboriginals had taught me how to make bows and arrows. I hunted for food with the skills they had taught me. I was careful to stay clear of anything that may have eaten from the river. I did not want the same terrible fate that had befallen my father to happen to me.
While living in the woods, I saw many harsh winters. Where the snow would cover many feet on the ground. One summer, I found a hollowed out tree. I decided to try again at music. I did not want another failure, but I could feel the boredom of life in the woods eating away at me. I took the whale bone knife the First Nations had given me, and decided to carve. It took many days, but finally, I created a beautiful piece of wood. It was shaped like a figure 8, except more full in the body. It had a long strait piece of wood coming out of one end. It was a hollow thing, that I thought could be used to make sounds. I strung 3 pieces of cord from one end to the middle of the 8. I plucked a string. A beautiful low note came out. After much fiddling, I realized that the thinner the cord, the higher the note. I practiced my instrument for many days. Then months. After a year. I decided to return to my village. I doubted anyone would accept me as their leader, for I was nothing. I had no talent.
While living in the woods, I saw many harsh winters. Where the snow would cover many feet on the ground. One summer, I found a hollowed out tree. I decided to try again at music. I did not want another failure, but I could feel the boredom of life in the woods eating away at me. I took the whale bone knife the First Nations had given me, and decided to carve. It took many days, but finally, I created a beautiful piece of wood. It was shaped like a figure 8, except more full in the body. It had a long strait piece of wood coming out of one end. It was a hollow thing, that I thought could be used to make sounds. I strung 3 pieces of cord from one end to the middle of the 8. I plucked a string. A beautiful low note came out. After much fiddling, I realized that the thinner the cord, the higher the note. I practiced my instrument for many days. Then months. After a year. I decided to return to my village. I doubted anyone would accept me as their leader, for I was nothing. I had no talent.
I couldn’t even play the music that was my dream, as far as they were concerned. I made my way to the centre of the village. I took out my instrument, and began to play. Soon, a large crowd had gathered. They all wanted to hear the beautiful sound that I was playing. They were in awe. They all thought that I had been killed. Soon, nearly all the townsfolk were there to hear me play. I made money. Everybody wanted to hear the lovely noise. I received gifts. These people, who had so little, gave me much. Furs and knives and maple syrup. Anything they thought I would fancy.
One day, I knew what I had to do. I gathered all the people in the town willing to help, and we remade the mansion in which I lived. All the while I was gone, the king had tried to make my village leave. It no longer had a seigneur, and so the king was getting nothing from it standing there. We built up my house, and I became seigneur of my people once more. One day, I found a letter from my grandmother. I didn’t know I had a grandmother, and it explained everything. How she came to New France as a filles du roi, but before she came, she played music. Everybody in France would gather to hear her play.
One day, I knew what I had to do. I gathered all the people in the town willing to help, and we remade the mansion in which I lived. All the while I was gone, the king had tried to make my village leave. It no longer had a seigneur, and so the king was getting nothing from it standing there. We built up my house, and I became seigneur of my people once more. One day, I found a letter from my grandmother. I didn’t know I had a grandmother, and it explained everything. How she came to New France as a filles du roi, but before she came, she played music. Everybody in France would gather to hear her play.