The summer of 1661 was marked by a series of calamities scarcely paralleled even in the annals of this disastrous epoch. Early in February, thirteen colonists were surprised and captured; next came a fight between a large band of laborers and two hundred and sixty Iroquois; in the following month, ten more Frenchmen were killed or taken; and thenceforth, till winter closed, the settlement had scarcely a breathing space. “These hobgoblins,” writes the author of the Relation of this year, “sometimes appeared at the edge of the woods, assailing us with abuse; sometimes they glided stealthily into the midst of the fields, to surprise the men at work; sometimes they approached the houses, harassing us without ceasing, and, like importunate harpies or birds of prey, swooping down on us whenever they could take us unawares.”
Speaking of the disasters of this year, the soldier-priest, Dollier de Casson, writes: “God, who afflicts the body only for the good of the soul, made a marvellous use of these calamities and terrors to hold the people firm in their duty towards Heaven. Vice was then almost unknown here, and in the midst of war religion flourished on all sides in a manner very different from what we now see in time of peace.”
The war was, in fact, a war of religion. The small redoubts of logs, scattered about the skirts of the settlement to serve as points of defence in case of attack, bore the names of saints, to whose care they were commended. There was one placed under a higher protection and called the Redoubt of the Infant Jesus. Chomedey de Maisonneuve, the pious and valiant governor of Montreal, to whom its successful defence is largely due, resolved, in view of the increasing fury and persistency of the Iroquois attacks, to form among the inhabitants a military fraternity, to be called “Soldiers of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph;” and to this end he issued a proclamation, of which the following is the characteristic beginning:—
“We, Paul de Chomedey, governor of the island of Montreal and lands thereon dependent, on information given us from divers quarters that the Iroquois have formed the design of seizing upon this settlement by surprise or force, have thought it our duty, seeing that this island is the property of the Holy Virgin, * to invite and exhort those zealous for her service to unite together by squads, each of seven persons; and after choosing a corporal by a plurality of voices, to report themselves to us for enrolment in our garrison, and, in this capacity, to obey our orders, to the end that the country may be saved.”
Twenty squads, numbering in all one hundred and forty men, whose names, appended to the proclamation, may still be seen on the ancient records of Montreal, answered the appeal and enrolled themselves in the holy cause.
The whole settlement was in a state of religious exaltation. As the Iroquois were regarded as actual myrmidons of Satan in his malign warfare against Mary and her divine Son, those who died in fighting them were held to merit the reward of martyrs, assured of a seat in paradise.
And now it remains to record one of the most heroic feats of arms ever achieved on this continent. That it may be rated as it merits, it will be well to glance for a moment at the condition of Canada, under the portentous cloud of war which constantly overshadowed it. **
* This is no figure of speech. The Associates of Montreal,
after receiving a grant of the island from Jean de Lauson,
placed it under the protection of the Virgin, and formally
declared her to be the proprietor of it from that day forth
for ever.
** In all that relates to Montreal, I cannot be
sufficiently grateful to the Abbé Faillon, the
indefatigable, patient, conscientious chronicler of its
early history; an ardent and prejudiced Sulpitian, a priest
who three centuries ago would have passed for credulous,
and, withal, a kind-hearted and estimable man. His numerous
books on his favorite theme, with the vast and heterogeneous
mass of facts which they embody, are invaluable, provided
their partisan character be well kept in mind. His recent
death leaves his principal work unfinished. His Histoire de
la Colonie Française en Canada—it might more fitly be
called Histoire du Montréal—is unhappily little more than
half complete.