The Marquis adds that even if France failed to establish her claim to the territory north of the Bay of Fundy and should be forced to abandon it he hoped, by the aid of Boishebert and the missionaries, to withdraw the Acadians and their Indian allies to Canada. The Acadians north of the isthmus he estimated were about two thousand (perhaps 3,000 would have been nearer the truth) of whom seven hundred were capable of bearing arms. “It would be vexatious,” adds the Marquis, “if they should pass to the English.”

After Boishebert was forced to retire from the mouth of the River St. John he established himself at a “detroit,” or “narrows,” up the river, where he constructed 118 a small battery, two guns of a calibre of 2L., and twelve swivel guns. The following summer he entertained no fears as to his security. He had made an intrenchment in a favorable situation and hoped if the English should venture an attack to have the best of it. “I have particularly recommended him,” writes the governor, “not to erect any fortifications which might in case of some unfortunate event be hurtful to us, to retain always a way of retreat and to use every effort to harass the enemy ceaselessly, day and night, until he shall have reduced him to the stern necessity of re-embarking.”

There are but two places on the lower St. John to which the word “detroit” could apply, namely the “Narrows” just above Indiantown, near the mouth of the river, and the narrows at “Evandale,” a little above the mouth of the Bellisle[33]; the latter is the more probable location. The situation as a point of observation and for defence of the settlements above could not be excelled, while at the same time it was not sufficiently near the sea to attract attention on the part of an English cruiser. It is therefore quite probable that the old fort at Worden’s, erected during the war of 1812, the remains of which are in a fair state of preservation and are often visited by tourists, was built on the site occupied by Boishebert’s “Camp Volant” of 1755, afterwards fortified by him and for some little time his headquarters.

From the month of October to the end of December, 1755, nearly seven thousand of the unfortunate Acadians were removed from their homes and dispersed amongst the American colonies along the Atlantic seaboard as far south as Georgia and the Carolinas. A fleet of two ships, three snows, and a brigantine, under convoy of the “Baltimore” sloop of war, sailed from Annapolis Royal on the morning of the 8th December. On board the fleet were 1,664 exiles of all ages whose destinations were Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York and South Carolina. One of the snows[34] had her mainmast broken in a heavy gale just before her arrival at Annapolis and Charles Belliveau, a ship-builder and navigator of experience, was employed to replace the broken mast, which he did in a workmanlike manner; but upon his claiming payment for the job the captain laughed in his face. Belliveau, indignant at such treatment, seized his axe to cut down the mast and this brought the captain to terms.

It chanced that shortly afterwards Belliveau and a number of his unfortunate compatriots (32 families, 225 persons in all) were placed on board this vessel to be transported to South Carolina. The “Baltimore” only went as far as New York and the snow, with Belliveau and his friends on board, was left to pursue the rest of her voyage unattended; not, however, without a parting caution on the part of the commander of the “Baltimore” to her captain to be careful, for amongst his 119 captives were same good seamen. This advice was not heeded as the sequel will show.

The voyage proved a tedious one and from time to time small parties of the Acadians were allowed on deck for air and exercise. A plot was laid to seize the ship. Accordingly six of the stoutest and boldest lay in readiness, and when those on deck were ordered below and the hatchway opened to allow them to descend, Belliveau and his friends sprang from the hold and in the twinkling of an eye were engaged in a desperate struggle with the crew. Reinforced by those who followed, the master of the vessel and his crew of eight men were soon overpowered and tied fast.

Belliveau, the leader of the spirited encounter, now took the helm and the course of the ship was reversed. Under full sail she careened to the wind until her former master cried to Belliveau that he would certainly break the main mast. He replied: “No fear of that; I made it and it is a good one.”

In due time the vessel reached the Bay of Fundy without other adventure than a trifling conflict with an English privateer, which was beaten off without loss. The French soon after released and put on shore the English captain and his crew, and on the 8th day of January anchored safely in the harbor of St John.[35]

The names of most of the families who arrived at St. John in this ship have been preserved, including those of Charles Belliveau, Charles Dugas, Denis St. Sceine, Joseph Guilbault, Pierre Gaudreau, Denis St. Sceine, jr., M. Boudrault and two families of Grangers.

Charles Belliveau, the hero of the adventure just related, was born at the Cape at Port Royal about 1696; he married in 1717 Marie Madeleine Granger and had eight children whose descendants today are numerous.