The river near home and what it remembers
What can two weeks on a slow river a few miles from home show a traveller? Thoreau finds the shad, the frontier wars and the whole span of history on its banks.
Thoreau never leaves New England, and argues that he need not. The frontier, he writes, lies wherever a man fronts a fact. On the Concord he takes the side of the shad, shut out by the dam at Billerica, and asks who hears the fishes when they cry. On the Merrimack he retells the frontier wars: Captain Lovewell's march against the Indians, and Hannah Dustan paddling home with ten scalps. History shrinks as he goes. Sixty old women holding hands, he reckons, would reach from Eve to his own mother.
- nature
- travel
- landscape
- time
- memory
- history
- historical memory
- colonialism
- civilization
- commerce
- labor
- experience
- perception
Enter a dialogue
- A dam shut the shad out of your river, and you ask who hears the fishes when they cry. What do people owe a fish?
- Hannah Dustan, a captive settler, killed ten sleeping Indians and paddled home with their scalps. Why do you tell her story without praise or blame?
- Sixty old women holding hands would reach from Eve to your own mother, by your count. What does that picture do to our awe of history?
- Someone has one week and a slow river near home. Why do you place the frontier there and not in the far West?
- You mourn the Indians whose river this was, yet credit the white settler with perseverance and justice. Whose side are you on?