DEFENCE OF CASTLE DANGEROUS
1692
The sun shone bright and warm on the little frontier settlement of Verchères one crisp October morning in the year 1692.
Though the settlement was small, it was pleasantly placed on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, not more than twenty miles from Montreal, which was considered but a short distance from a place of safety in those days when homes were being hewn out of the wilderness.
The Seignior or Governor of the place was an old soldier, formerly a captain in the renowned regiment of Carignan, which was sent to New France to give aid and protection to the settlers, and to assist them in repelling the Iroquois. The officers of this great regiment were rewarded for their services by large grants of land along the rivers, which were for many years the great highways. The officers in turn rented out the land to the soldiers under them, and none save the Colonel himself was allowed to return to France, so anxious was that country to increase the population of its colonies.
When our story opens, Seignior Verchères was on military duty at Quebec, his wife had gone on a visit to Montreal, and they had left the little family at home in charge of Madelon, the only daughter, a girl about fourteen years old. There were two young brothers,—Louis, a lad of twelve, and Alexander, who was about a year younger. There were, besides, the settlers who looked on Madelon as the representative of her father.
We can hardly picture to ourselves what a very rude place the settlement was, and as it lay near the trail of the Iroquois, it had become known throughout New France as “Castle Dangerous.”
At this time the Iroquois, containing the strong and invincible Five Nations, had two motives which swayed their savage breasts most powerfully; these were love of fighting and love of gain. They were dependent on the Dutch and English at Albany for guns, powder, lead, brandy, and many other things which the white man had brought with him from the Old World, and which these children of the woods had come to regard only too quickly as necessary to their comfort.
True, beaver skins could buy these things which they coveted, but with the Iroquois the supply was limited. The great forests stretching to the west and northwest, and those of the upper lakes, were occupied by tribes who were bound to French interests, and it was the French traders who controlled their immense annual product of furs.
Every summer there was a great Fair at Montreal, where the trading for a whole year took place, and the remote tribes brought in their accumulated beaver skins. The Iroquois saw and envied these furs and the strong waters which they enabled their possessors to buy, so they became more than ever bent on mastering all this traffic by first conquering the tribes. The Dutch and English urged them on, for the Hurons, Ottawas, and other tribes were the “children” of the French, working in their interests and protected by them, while French and Indians alike were enemies of the Iroquois.
Thus it was no accidental attack that the French had to fear at “Castle Dangerous,” but a determined effort by a race that could put nearly three thousand warriors in the field, and that constantly increased this force by adopting captives into the tribes.
The settlement at Castle Dangerous consisted of the blockhouse, a strong building made of timbers; of the house of the Seignior; some rude shacks, and the fort itself, which was connected with the blockhouse by a covered way. All the settlers lived in these buildings for safety, since their pitiless enemy the Iroquois had always to be guarded against. There were as well bands of wandering Indians that were constantly passing up and down the trail that lay along the St. Lawrence River.
Rude and dangerous as the place seemed, Madelon loved it, since it was home to her. She was brave, and had been trained by her father in the use of firearms, to be cool in the face of danger and quick to meet emergencies.
The morning of the twenty-second of October broke fair, the sun rose amid banks of purple and gold clouds, and as there was still work to be done in the fields, the men of the settlement started off directly after the morning meal, leaving the women and children, two soldiers, one old man of eighty, and Madelon in charge of the fort.
For a long time Verchères had been unmolested. The settlers had come to feel that perhaps there was not much further danger to be feared from the foe, and with this feeling of fancied security they had grown less vigilant. Madelon, attracted by the beauty of the day, started to go down to the landing-place, which hung over the river and made an admirable spot from which to fish, the river being noted for the excellence and number of fine fish to be found there.
“Come, Laviolette,” she called to a French half-breed who was hired to work about the fort, “bring some lines and perhaps we can catch fish enough to serve for a meal.”
They were busily engaged in this peaceful sport, when suddenly the sound of firing was heard in the neighbourhood of the place where the settlers were at work in the fields.
“Run, Mademoiselle, run! The Iroquois are coming,” screamed Laviolette, and taking her by the hand, they fled towards the fort.
“Can we reach it, dost thou think?”
“Courage, Mademoiselle! we are almost there,” replied Laviolette; and so the Iroquois thought also, since they gave up the chase of the flying girl, and contented themselves with firing at her and her companion. As the bullets whistled by, she prayed aloud,—
“Holy Marie, save us!” and as the words inspired her with fresh courage, she shouted as she neared the fort,—
“Help, help, to arms!” Her wild call was not heard, and at the very gate itself were two sobbing women who from the battlement of the fort had seen their husbands murdered in the field, and stood wringing their hands in misery.
“Oh, come within, come in, think of the children”; and as she spoke, Madelon pushed the two women in before her, and with the aid of Laviolette shut the heavy gate.
“Where are the soldiers?” was her next question.
“Hidden in the blockhouse, sister”; and Louis, the elder of the two boys, came to meet his sister with a gun in his hand. They ran together to the blockhouse, and there, sure enough, were the two men, crazed with fear, and one of them holding in his hand a lighted fuse.
“What do you with that fuse?”
“Light the powder and blow us all up,” cried the soldier, while his companion, huddling in the corner, only moaned.
“Miserable coward, go from this place at once!” and Madelon’s voice rang with such determination and command that the man obeyed.
“See, since none of you dare, I myself will defend this fort, for my father would have shame if his daughter could not keep it, when there are arms and powder and those that can use them.”
“Sister,” said Alexander, “give me a gun, for I too can load and fire one.”
“Truly thou shalt have one, little brother. We shall fight to the death. Remember what our father hath taught us, that men are born to shed their lives for their country and their king. Though I be but a girl, I shall do as he would wish, since neither of you is old enough to take command here.”
Even the craven soldiers, inspired with some small degree of courage, agreed to follow their intrepid commander, whose first order was that they should make a round of the palisades, that high fence of great logs with pointed ends that surrounded the forts and blockhouses planted in the wilderness, and to which many owed their safety, since they were wellnigh impossible to climb, and the garrison within had those that climbed at their mercy. As they hurried to the palisades, Madelon put on her head one of the soldier caps which she saw in the blockhouse.
“Why do you put that cap on, sister?” asked Louis, with a curiosity which he could not repress even at that critical time.
“So that the Iroquois shall not think that it is a girl making the rounds. You put one on also, and give one to Alexander.”
The feeble band hurried to go around the inside of the palisades to see that all was secure, for on this defence of heavy logs their very lives depended.
“Thank the Holy Virgin that we came,” Madelon exclaimed; for they found not one, but half a dozen of the logs gone at different places, and had this been discovered by the Indians, there would have been little chance for the small band to have escaped being slain.
“Help, Louis; push, Alexander! We can get this log into place while the soldiers set up those that have wholly fallen down.” As she spoke, the brave girl and the two little brothers tugged with might and main, and got the heavy log in place, and held it while the soldiers drove it into the ground, so that no opening was left in the palisades. All the other weak spots were mended under her direction, the two men working as she ordered, since they seemed incapable of taking charge themselves. When the palisades were well repaired, and Madelon thought there was no further danger to be feared from that direction, she said,
“Now must we make the cowardly Iroquois believe that there is a strong garrison within, and never let them think that my father is from home. So let each one in turn fire from the loopholes, and see to it, boys, that there is no shot wasted.”
Finding that the firing was scattering but continuous, the Indians, ever averse to making an attack on a fortified place, withdrew to the woods.
Shortly, however, they discovered some of the settlers who had escaped the morning assault, creeping back to the fort, and with horrid yells the savages pursued and killed them. The women and children in the fort cried and screamed without ceasing, knowing that their loved ones were being killed without mercy. At last Madelon, fearing that they would be heard by the Indians, and their distress taken as a sign of weakness, ordered them to stop, and tried to busy them about the defence.
“Load and fire the cannon, Laviolette; it will serve as a warning to any of the settlers that may have escaped, and I have heard my father say that Indians ever fear a cannon.”
So the cannon was fired, and Madelon from her loophole saw the tall, painted forms of the enemy take refuge in the forest. But this was not the last duty of the little commander that night. From her place on the bastions of the fort she saw a canoe with a settler whom she knew well, named Fontaine, coming towards the landing. He was not alone, but had his wife and family with him.
“I must save them if it be the will of God. Laviolette, dost thou see any of the Indians lurking at the woods’ edge?”
“There be none very near at hand, Mademoiselle. Perhaps the cannon affrighted them.”
“I pray that it may be so, since there is none but thou and I to save our friends, I fear.”
“Nay, there are the soldiers. Sure, it is their business to venture to the dock and bring in Sieur Fontaine.”
“Listen thou, Laviolette, the while I ask them to do this.”
The soldiers summoned before their little commander, though testifying their willingness to follow all her orders within the palisades, absolutely refused to risk their lives by going beyond its shelter.
“’Twas as I feared; thou and I must save them, Laviolette. Thou shalt keep guard at the gate, and I will to the landing and bring them hither.”
“Pray, Mademoiselle, bid me to go, and thou stay and keep the gate.”
“Nay, for I have heard my father say that the Indian is ever wary about that which he doth not understand. They will marvel why I go alone to the landing, and doubtless think it but a ruse to draw them hither, so that we may train the cannon on them again. If they appear, go thou in and bar the gate, since we must save the fort at any cost, and as many lives as is possible.”
So Madelon, with a bravery that might have put to shame the soldiers skulking within the fort, alone and in full sight, walked down to the landing, assisted Fontaine to take his family and goods from the canoe, and placing the party in front of her, marched back to the fort entirely unmolested. As she hoped, the Indians, seeing her put so bold a face on the matter, suspected that they had something to fear from the occupants of the fort; so, while they hesitated, Madelon acted. Once within the stronghold, how the little party wept and prayed with joy!
“Now indeed I feel as if there was hope, since thou art here to help me, Sieur Fontaine. There are enough so that we may divide the watch, and as long as daylight lasts, to fire on the enemy if ever one is seen to show himself. Thou, Louis, and Alexander as well, shalt take turns at the loopholes, and see that thy aim go not astray.”
The rest of the day was spent in making all the defences as strong as possible, in which Fontaine gave valuable assistance, for he was a brave man, accustomed to the wiles of the murderous enemy, and wise in the ways of border warfare.
At sunset a fierce northeast wind began to blow, and the first snow of the season mixed with hail filled the air, making it deadly cold and a night to try the spirits of the small band who were fighting for their lives. At first Madelon hoped that the storm would drive the Indians to shelter for the night, but they were constantly seen appearing at the edge of the woods, and, as it seemed, making preparations for an attack under cover of the darkness, and to gain entrance into the fort that night.
“Go, Louis, and tell all the men that I would speak with them.”
When the whole force was mustered, there were but six in all, two of them boys and one an old man over eighty. Madelon spoke to them thus,—
“God has saved us to-day from the hands of our enemies, and let us pray that we shall escape their snares to-night. As for me, know that I am not afraid. See, I will keep the fort with the old man and my brothers, whilst you, Pierre Fontaine, and the two soldiers, La Bonté and Gachet, go into the blockhouse with the women and children, as it is the safest place. If I am taken, do not you surrender, even if the horrible Iroquois cut me to pieces and burn me before your eyes. I am but one, and in the blockhouse they cannot reach you if you care for yourselves as you should. So all to your places, and may God keep us through the night.”
Madelon tramped off to her chosen place of duty, with the old man and her young brothers.
“Louis,” she said, “choose thou the place on the bastion where thou wilt serve, Alexander shall choose next, then the old man, and I shall take the last.”
Each did as he was bidden, and all night through the wind and storm the two little boys, the aged man whose fires of life had burned so low, and the young girl kept vigil. All night long the cries of “All’s well” rang from bastion to blockhouse, making it appear as if the place was fully manned by a large garrison. At about one o’clock the old man who was on guard at the place on the bastion nearest the gate, called out,—
“Mademoiselle, I hear something, mayhap the enemy.”
His voice quavered with fear and fatigue, and as Madelon hurried to him she feared the worst had come.
“Where is it that thou hearest something?” asked Madelon, hardly above her breath.
“There, just below, at the gate of the fort.”
“Surely I see them too, and well I know the poor creatures, since for many a day this summer past have I driven them to pasture.”
The snow had whitened the ground, so that Madelon’s bright eyes had been able to distinguish that the dark forms huddled at the gate were the poor remnant of the cattle that had not been killed or driven off by the Iroquois. Summoning the others from the blockhouse, they took counsel together as to whether they should open the gate and let the cattle in. The men were all anxious to do this, but Madelon feared the crafty foe.
“How canst thou tell but what we let in the savages also? Such creatures of wile are they, that we know not if they be not concealed in the hides of the beasts already slaughtered, and if we are simple enough to open the gate they may enter the fort.”
An hour passed, and still the cattle stood there, and there were no signs that the enemy was among them. So at last Madelon called Louis and Alexander.
“Brothers,” she said, “we must get in the cattle if it be possible. You shall stand on either side of the gate and have your guns cocked, while I go forth and drive the beasts in. If the Indians make a rush, shoot, and then shut the gate as quickly as thou canst.”
The heavy gate was swung back, and Madelon stepped out. It did not take long for her to drive in the few cattle that remained of the generous herd that had gone to pasture that morning.
The remainder of the night passed away without any further alarms, and when darkness disappeared, many of the fears and anxieties of the small garrison disappeared also, as it is always easier to face the fears that may be seen than those that are born of the imagination.