Peeps at Many Lands: Canada

by J. T. Bealby

Having said adieu to their friends, they embarked in their canoes, and paddled downstream until they came to the mouth of the Ottawa. Turning into this river, they came, about May 1, 1660, to the formidable rapids called the Long Sault, where their further advance was stopped. Here they resolved to await the foe, more especially as among the bushes that stretched down to the shore was a palisade fort, which had been made the autumn before by a band of friendly Algonquin Indians. The palisade was, however, in ruins. The first task of the young Frenchmen was therefore to repair it. Whilst they were engaged upon this task, they were joined by forty Huron Indians and four Algonquins. During the second afternoon after their landing, their scouts brought in the intelligence that two Iroquois canoes were shooting the Sault. As soon as the Iroquois reached the foot of the rapids they were received with a volley, which killed some of them. But one or two escaped, and hastened to report the disaster to the vanguard of the Iroquois braves—namely, a band of 200 who were paddling along the upper reaches of the river above the rapids.

Very soon Dollard and his companions saw a large fleet of the enemy's canoes racing down the rapids, and filled with savage Iroquois all thirsting for revenge. The first attack of the Indians was easily beaten back. They had looked for an easy conquest, and attacked in only a half-hearted manner. Then they set to work to build a rude fort for themselves. This gave the little garrison further time in which to strengthen their own defences. This work was still uncompleted when the Iroquois advanced to the attack a second time. They had seized the canoes of the allied French, Hurons, and Algonquins, and having broken them to pieces and set them on fire, now rushed forward and piled the blazing slabs of birch bark against the palisade. But they were met by such a withering volley from the sixty rifles that they were staggered, and glad to retreat.

A third time they made the attempt to rush Dollard's palisaded enclosure, but a third time they were driven back, leaving a large number of slain, and amongst them one of their most important chiefs. This daunted their spirits, and they hastily sent off for reinforcements.

In the meantime, until the reinforcements came up, which they did on the fifth day, the first band of Iroquois kept up an unceasing fire and constant menace of attack. In this way they gradually wore out the little garrison, who dare not sleep, who were unable to get water from the river, and were at last even in want of food.

Now, among the Iroquois were several Hurons, renegades from their own tribe. These men now tried to win over the Hurons who were fighting with Dollard, and at last hunger and thirst so told upon the latter that they all slipped away and deserted the young Frenchman except one man, their chief. He and the four Algonquins stood firm and loyal.

On the fifth day the yells of the fierce Iroquois and the firing of muskets told the doomed defenders of the palisade that the expected reinforcements had arrived. The Iroquois, having learnt from the Huron deserters how small in numbers the little garrison was, now made sure of an easy victory. Ostentatiously they advanced to the attack, but the result was the same as before. They were forced to fall back before the persistent and well-directed fire of the defenders.

Three days more were spent in this way, the Iroquois attacking from time to time, but always falling back before the steady fire of the heroic colonists. Dollard and his companions fought and prayed by turns, and hungered, thirsted, and snatched fragments of broken sleep, and were wellnigh utterly worn out by fatigue and exhaustion. At last the spirit of the Iroquois began to quail. Some talked of abandoning the attack, but others grew all the fiercer in their desire for revenge, while their pride revolted at the thought of so many warriors being beaten by so few of the hated palefaces. In the conflicting councils the authority of the latter party prevailed. It was resolved that, before finally abandoning the attack, they should make a general assault, and volunteers were called for to lead the attack. To protect themselves against the deadly fire of the little garrison they made large wooden shields 4 or 5 feet high, and capable of covering each three or four men. Under cover of these shields the volunteers were able to rush close up to the palisades, which they immediately began to hack to pieces with their hatchets.

Now, in anticipation of some such eventuality as this, Dollard had filled a large, wide-mouthed blunderbuss with gunpowder and plugged up the muzzle. Igniting the fuse which he had inserted into this home-made "hand-grenade," Dollard tried to throw it over the palisade amongst the Iroquois. But it was too heavy for him, and catching on the top of one of the pointed palisades, it fell back among his own friends, and killed or wounded several of them and nearly blinded others. In the confusion arising out of this mishap the Iroquois succeeded in effecting a breach in the palisade. Dollard and his followers rushed to meet the inpouring foe, and slashing, striking, stabbing at them with the energy of despair, succeeded in holding them momentarily in check. But the Iroquois broke through at a second place, and poured a volley into the devoted band of Frenchmen, and Dollard fell; broke through a third breach, broke through a fourth, and—all was soon over. The young French heroes, refusing to cease fighting, refusing to accept quarter, bleeding, staggering, half demented with exhaustion, weakness, and hopeless despair, were shot down to a man. Not one was left on his feet.