Canada

by Beckles Willson

Thanks to the incessant raids of the Iroquois into Canada, the farmers dared not till the fields and sow the seed. Those who might have protected them were everywhere up in arms, coping with their implacable savage foes, who seemed to rise out of the ground on every hand. In vain was one band beaten and cut to pieces; another sprang up to take its place.

Many were the heroic deeds performed by both Canadian men and women, but none is more thrilling than that which is told of a beautiful young girl of fourteen, Madeleine de la Verchères. She was the daughter of Seigneur of Verchères, and lived in the fortified seignory ten miles from Montreal, on the south side of the great river St. Lawrence. One morning her father was absent at Quebec, and all the farm-folk were working in the fields. To guard the fort, her father had left two soldiers, an old man eighty years old, her two little brothers, and herself. Suddenly the terrible war-whoop of the Iroquois pierced the air, and scarce time had the soldiers to barricade the doors and windows before a mighty host appeared before the fort. So fierce was their fire, that the soldiers deemed it useless to continue to struggle. But not so Madeleine. Seizing a musket, she ordered the falterers to their posts. Day and night for a whole week did this heroic girl hold the band of Iroquois at bay. She taught her little brothers to load and fire so rapidly, that the Indians fancied a garrison of twelve men at least held the fort. At last a reinforcement arrived, and the Iroquois beat a retreat. The gates of the fort were flung open, and the pale, weary girl of fourteen, captain of the garrison of Verchères, flung herself into her father's arms.

Heroic Defence by Madeleine de Verchères and her Brothers, 1692

And now let us return for a moment to the shores of Hudson's Bay. It was not likely that the forts which the Chevalier de Troyes had wrested from the English would continue to remain in French possession without an effort being made to regain them. One Captain Moon, returning from Port Nelson, endeavoured, with twenty-four men, to surprise the French at Fort Anne, which was the new name bestowed upon the captured Fort Albany. Moon built a station eight miles away, but Iberville, who had been again sent to the Bay, instantly got wind of it, and, marching thither, drove the English out. When two Hudson's Bay Company's vessels arrived in these waters, winter overtook them, and they became locked in the ice. The crews landed, and had nearly built a fort when Iberville fell upon them and made them all prisoners.

But there was one stronghold in the northern bay which continued to defy the French. This single fort was considered of so much importance, that the gain or loss of everything in Hudson's Bay depended upon it. To capture it, however, required a stronger force than Iberville could at present command, whereupon he sailed away to France to ask assistance from the King. He revealed to His Majesty his plans for the capture of Fort Nelson, and was at length promised two ships in the following spring. The royal promise was duly kept. After a hot bombardment of three weeks, the English Governor was obliged to surrender and the French standard hoisted over the captured stronghold. Only for a year, however, did the stronghold remain in the enemy's possession, when it was recaptured by the Company, and threescore Frenchmen sent prisoners to England. When Iberville heard of this fresh turn which events had taken, he ground his teeth with rage. "Am I," he cried, "to go on capturing this fort from the English, only to have it repeatedly slip through our hands?" He then and there vowed to have nothing further to do with Hudson's Bay, he who had fought so many battles and won there so many victories.

As for the French prisoners, no sooner were they released than they crossed the Channel and sought audience of their King. Gazing upon this emaciated band of fur-hunters and bushrangers, Louis the Fourteenth would have been craven indeed if he had not attempted to retrieve their misfortunes. Four ships of war were promised them. "And," said the King, "Iberville shall lead you." But Iberville was then at Placentia, in Newfoundland, bent on finding other fields for his energy and martial prowess. No other man was so well equipped at all points, in knowledge of the great bay and of the conditions of fighting there, as this hero, so the four captains found him out at Placentia, and, embarking in the Pelican, he took command.

Iberville's flag-ship mounted fifty guns. The others of the fleet were the Palmier, the Weesph, and the Violent. The attack on Fort Nelson this time was to be no child's play. Almost at the very moment when the wind was filling the sails of the French ships in the Channel, there sailed from Plymouth a fleet belonging to the Hudson's Bay Company, the Hampshire, the Hudson's Bay, the Dering, and Owner's Love. The two first-named vessels were no strangers to the Bay, and had participated in the conquest of the previous year. Although each was ignorant of the other's movements, it was a race across the Atlantic, and the English fleet entered the Straits only forty hours before the ships of the French, and, like them, was much impeded by the ice, which was unusually troublesome. Passage was made by the enemy in the English wake. One French ship, commanded by Duqué, pushed past the currents, taking a northerly course, which brought her commander into full view of two of the Company's ships. Shots were exchanged; but owing to the difficulties engendered by the ice, it was impossible to manoeuvre with such certainty as to cut off the Frenchman's escape. While this skirmish was in progress, Iberville in the Pelican succeeded in getting past the English unknown to them, and reached the mouth of the Nelson River in sight of the fort. His presence, as may be imagined, greatly surprised and disturbed the Governor and the Company's servants; for they had believed their own ships would have arrived in season to prevent the enemy from entering the Straits. Several rounds of shot were fired as a signal, in the hope that a response would be made by the Company's ships, which they hourly expected in that quarter.

On his part the French commander was equally disturbed by the non-arrival of his three consorts, which the exigencies of the voyage had obliged him to forsake. Two days were passed in a state of suspense. At daybreak on the 5th of September three ships[[1]] were distinctly visible; both parties joyfully believed they were their own. So certain was Iberville, that he immediately raised anchor and started to join the newcomers. He was soon undeceived, but the knowledge of his mistake in no way daunted him.