About two years ago my friend, genealogist Winston De Ville, sent me a hand-drawn colonial-era map or plan of a fort. I wasn't sure why he sent it to me, because the plan was unrelated to any of my research. In retrospect, he isn't sure why he sent it to me, either. The other documents he included with the plan concerned Bayou Teche, a subject on which I was (and am still) conducting research. Perhaps he got the fort plan mixed up with the Teche material and sent it to me by mistake?
The plan of a colonial-era fort. (Source: Winston De Ville, FASG; colorized by the author) |
Regardless, he sent me the plan of the fort, I
put it in my files "just in case," and I forgot about it.
Two days ago I was looking through my files and pulled out the plan of the fort. It
occurred to me that another friend, archaeologist Dr. Ashley A. Dumas of the University
of West Alabama, might find the plan of interest. She is presently
excavating colonial-era Fort Tombecbe, located in rural Alabama. Surely it's not the same fort, I thought, but
perhaps it will be useful for comparison with Tombecbe.
So I scanned and e-mailed the plan to her, stating in my
cover note, "Don't know if this is of interest to you or not."
To which Dr. Dumas replied, "Holy cow, that is Fort Tombecbe!!!!
The fort I work on now! Any date associated with it? Did you find it yourself or is it online?"
Close up of the fort in the plan. (Source: Winston De Ville, FASG; colorized by the author) |
I didn't respond immediately as I was off doing
research. A short time later Dr. Dumas
wrote back again, "Can you get a higher resolution image? Can I get one? I
can't read all the writing. It looks like a draft plan of the fort, possibly by
Lusser. Or maybe shows changing alignment of the palisade wall? Do you see that
funny little rectangle with the circle attached in one corner of the fort? That's
the bread oven. I excavated a portion of that structure and that bastion corner
this summer."
Still I didn't reply, spurring another e-mail from Dr.
Dumas: "Shane! you're killing me. Do you know if I can get a better copy?"
When I returned to my office I did not read Dr. Dumas’ e-mails in order. I therefore was unaware she had already identified the fort in the plan as
Tombecbe when I wrote back:
"What, is it a helpful map??? That's the best copy I can scan from my
photocopy, which in itself is crappy. Anyway, does the map mean anything to
you? (I saw ‘tombe’ in the French at top, and for a second thought it might be ‘Tombegbe’ but I
don't think so; I think it's just the [French] verb ‘tomber.’)”
To which Dr. Dumas quickly responded, "No, no. It's Fort
Tombecbe. Where'd you get the copy? Is there a catalog number or something that
I can use. . . ?"
Fort Tombecbe (May 1737) by Ignace Broutin. (Source: 2012 Fort Tombecbe Archaeological Project) |
I finally understood the relevance of the plan and told Dr.
Dumas where to find the original. (It's in Spain.) I then re-scanned in higher resolution the archaic French writing, "inverted" the scan's color in Photoshop to generate an easier-to-read negative, and asked Dr. Dumas,
"Does this help to read the French (see attachment)?"
Unfortunately, I
forgot to attach the scan, prompting Dr. Dumas to e-mail me back,
"There's no attachment. I think you're trying to give me a heart
attack."
I eventually sent Dr. Dumas the color-inverted image (the
next day when I returned to my office).
Some of the French text on the plan of the fort. (Source: Winston De Ville, FASG; colorized by the author) |
On examination of the plan, Dr. Dumas observed that "The
scale is at the bottom and goes up to 60 toises [one toise = 6.396 U.S. feet]. I think that the strange
little geometric drawings above the fort represent [early Louisiana colonial governor] Bienville's encampment of
April-May 1736. The timing of this map is interesting because it coincides with
Bienville's first arrival at Tombecbe to meet with Choctaw chiefs." She added, "Desperate to get a good
copy!"
Despite the unintended humor and fumbling around on my part,
this is a good example of "interdisciplinary cooperation" among
scholars — in this case, a historian helping an archaeologist. And of course it works in reverse, too. (Oddly enough, I tend to work more
with archaeologists than with other historians.) And yet the incident also serves as a good
example of serendipity: Had not Mr. De Ville accidentally sent me a
plan of a fort unrelated to my own research, and had I not kept it, filed it away, and stumbled
across it a few nights ago while looking for something else, I might never have
thought of sending it to Dr. Dumas. And
even then I did not think it would turn out to be the fort she'd been
excavating.
Sometimes research and
discovery happens this way: I can't tell you how many things I've discovered in
my own research by accident. (Take, for
example, the Cajun Coonass airplane photo about which I've written previously.)
For more information on archaeology at the fort, see The 2012 Fort Tombecbe Archaeological Project blog site.
For more information on archaeology at the fort, see The 2012 Fort Tombecbe Archaeological Project blog site.
Thanks for sharing this. I recently heard Dr. Dumas speak about her archaeological work at the Fort Tombecbe site on You Tube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6LjVA3UyOM) and found your post after doing a rudimentary Bing search. Your experience definitely was a great example of serendipity and illustrates the benefits of docketing material for later use, even if there's no current reason to do so. Thanks again.
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