Medoctec was undoubtedly the principal Indian village on the St. John at this time; it was situated on the right bank of the river, eight miles below the Town of Woodstock. Here the Maliseets had a palisaded fort and large cabin, similar to that described by Lescarbot at the village Ouigoudy on Navy Island, where de Monts was welcomed by Chkoudun in 1604. The only other fortification constructed by the Indians on the St. John river, so far as known, was that at the mouth of the Nerepis, at Woodman's Point, called by Villebon, in 1697, "Fort des Sauvages de Nerepisse." It was evidently merely a palisaded enclosure, and on Southack's map of that period is marked "Wooden Fort."

Hitherto the Indians of Acadia had lived peaceably with the whites, but the closing years of the seventeenth century were destined to witness a sad transformation.



CHAPTER V.

KING WILLIAM'S WAR.

There lived at Quebec in the latter part of the seventeenth century one Charles le Moyne, seigneur de Longueil, who is called by Charlevoix the Baron de Becancourt; he was of Norman extraction, but his sons were natives of New France. As was the custom with the French noblesse each son adopted a surname derived from some portion of the ancient family estate. At least five of Becancourt's sons were prominent in the affairs of Acadia; they are known in history as Menneval, Portneuf, Villebon, d'Iberville and des Isles.

In 1687 Menneval replaced Perrot as governor of Acadia, and as the conduct of Perrot had given rise to grave dissatisfaction his successor received elaborate instructions concerning his duties. He was to rebuild the defences of Acadia, to resist the encroachments of the English, to suppress the lawless trade of the Coureurs de bois, to deal kindly and honestly with the savages, taking care to promote their conversion to the Christian faith, and to restore to the crown all seigniories and granted lands that had not been occupied or improved.

The year that followed Menneval's appointment was notable for the outbreak of the most dreadful Indian war in the annals of Acadia. All the tribes east of the Merrimac took part in it, including the Maliseets and Micmacs. This war is known in history as King William's war, from the name of the English monarch in whose reign it occurred. It lasted with little intermission for ten years, and during its progress the settlers of eastern New England suffered the most fearful outrages at the hands of the infuriated savages. Every settlement in Maine save Wells, York, Kittery and the Isle of Shoals was over run, and a thousand white people killed or taken prisoners.

As in the case of other wars which the Indians have waged with the whites, the latter were responsible for its origin. About twelve years before it broke out, Major Waldron treacherously seized a band of Indians at Dover in New Hampshire and sent them to Boston, where several of them were hanged for alleged complicity in Philip's war[5] and others sold into slavery. This despicable act the Indians never forgot nor forgave.

[5] This war broke out in 1675 and was confined chiefly to the tribes of Massachusetts. It was of short duration; the Indian Sagamore Philip was slain.

The immediate cause of King William's war, however, was the ill considered act of Governor Andros of pillaging the trading post of Baron de St. Castin, at Penobscot. St. Castin had formerly served in the Carignan Salieres regiment under Frontenac, but for twenty years had lived in this region, where he had married a daughter of the Maliseet chieftain Madockawando and was highly esteemed by the savages.

It was at the instigation of St. Castin and Madockawando that the Indians determined to take the war path. The first notable incident of the war was the destruction of Dover, where Major Waldron and twenty-two others were killed and twenty-nine taken prisoners. This occurred in June, 1689, and the story of the affair, as told by the St. John river Indians to their English captive, John Gyles, is in substance as follows:—

There was a truce with the Indians for some days, during which time two squaws came into the garrison. They told Major Waldron that a number of Indians were not far away with a considerable quantity of beaver and would be there to trade with him the next day. The weather was inclement and the women begged leave to lodge in the garrison. Some of the people were much opposed to this, but the major said: "Let the poor creatures lodge by the fire." The defences of the place were of the weakest kind, the gates had no locks but were fastened with pins and the garrison kept no watch. The squaws had a favorable opportunity to prosecute their design. They went into every apartment observing the number in each, and when all the people were asleep arose and opened the gates, gave the signal agreed upon and the other Indians came to them and, having received an account of the state of the garrison, they divided their forces according to the number of the people in each apartment and soon took or killed them all. Major Waldron lodged within an inner room and when the Indians broke in upon him he cried out: "What now! What now!" and jumping out of his bed seized his sword and drove them before him through two or three doors, but upon his turning about towards the apartment he had just left, an Indian came up behind him and knocked him on the head with his hatchet, which stunned him and he fell. They then seized him, dragged him out, and setting him up on a long table in his hall, bade him "judge Indians again." Then they cut and stabbed him and he cried out "O Lord! O Lord!" They called for his book of accounts and ordered him to cross out all the Indian debts, he having traded much with them. Then one and another gashed his naked breast, saying in derision: "I cross out my account." Then cutting a joint from a finger, one would say: "Will your fist weigh a pound now?" This in allusion to his having sometimes used his fist as a pound weight in buying and selling. And so they proceeded to torture him to death with every refinement of savage cruelty, after which they burned the garrison post and drew off.

A few days after this tragic event a number of people were killed by the Indians at Saco, and in the month of August the important post at Pemaquid, midway between the Kennebec and Penobscot rivers, was taken and the adjoining settlement destroyed. According to Charlevoix a large number of St. John river Indians participated in this exploit. Among their prisoners was a lad named Gyles whose experience during the nine years he lived in captivity on the St. John river is told in his very interesting narrative published in Boston in 1736. We shall have more to say about Gyles and his narrative further on, but it may be observed in passing that we are greatly indebted to him for the knowledge we possess of the life of the Indians of the River St. John two centuries ago. As Doctor Hannay well observes: "By the light of such a narrative we are able to perceive how wretched was the lot of an Acadian Indian, even during the period when his very name carried terror to the hearts of the settlers of Maine and New Hampshire. Modern civilization may have degraded him in some respects but it has at least rescued him from the danger of starvation and also from the cruel necessity of abandoning his kindred to perish when unable longer to supply their own wants or endure the constant journeys necessitated by the nature of their nomad life."

Early in 1690 Count Frontenac dispatched an expedition from Quebec to ravage the New England settlements; their leader was Portneuf, brother of Menneval and Villebon. There were fifty French and seventy Indians in the original party, which was afterwards joined by thirty-six French and a large band of Maliseets from the St. John, also by the Indians of Passamaquoddy and Penobscot, making a war party of five hundred men. On the 26th of May they attacked the town of Falmouth—now Portland. The inhabitants fled for protection within the ramparts of Fort Loyal. At the expiration of four or five days the garrison was obliged to surrender and Portneuf promised the vanquished quarter and a guard to the nearest English town. The terms of surrender were shamefully violated, Fort Loyal and Falmouth were reduced to ashes and over one hundred men, women and children murdered by the savages. From May to October their bodes lay exposed to the elements and wild beasts but were finally buried by Major Benjamin Church as he passed on an expedition to the eastward.

To revenge themselves on the French, whom they regarded as the instigators of this savage warfare, the New Englanders fitted out an expedition under Sir William Phips which captured Port Royal and carried Menneval, the governor, away a prisoner. His brother Villebon, who suceeded to the command, concluded to abandon Port Royal and to re-establish the post at the mouth of the Jemseg on the River St. John.

Villebon, with all his faults, is one of the most picturesque characters in the history of Acadia. He was greatly admired by the savages who deemed him to be every inch a chief. Diereville, the poet historian, saw him at St. John in 1700 and describes him as "a great man of fine appearance and full of energy." Having served for several years in a subordinate capacity at Port Royal he was now called upon to fill a difficult position and it must be confessed he acted with zeal and ability. Adverse fortune embittered him at the outset. Two pirate vessels came to Port Royal while he was absent preparing for his removal to the St. John river. These marauders burned the houses and killed the cattle; they even hanged two of the inhabitants and burned a woman and her children in her own dwelling. What was still worse for Villebon they captured the ship Union, just arrived from France with merchandize, provisions, ammunition and presents for the savages.

Villebon was well fitted for such an emergency as this; he assembled his dusky allies, explained the loss of their presents and offered himself to go to their great father, the King of France, for more. The Indians pledged their fidelity and promised him one hundred and fifty warriors the next spring to aid him in his designs against the English.

At the court of France Villebon was favorably received and returned with a commission from the king to command in Acadia. Soon after he abandoned the Jemseg Fort and moved up the river to the mouth of the Nashwaak where in the upper angle formed by the junction of that river with the St. John he built in 1692 a new fort which he called Fort St. Joseph. It was an ordinary palisaded fort about 120 feet square, with four bastions, and had eight cannon mounted. In the old French documents of the period it is usually called Fort Nachouac, with many varieties of spelling, such as Naxoat, Naxouac, Natchouak, etc. The older French maps place the fort on the south, or Fredericton side of the river, but there can be no doubt as to its proper location in the upper angle formed by the junction of the River Nashwaak with the St. John. The greater portion of the site has been washed away, but traces of the ramparts were visible within the memory of those yet living and many cannon balls and other relics have been found in the vicinity.

Villebon had now been some years in Acadia, for Bishop St. Vallier says that he was in command of the garrison at Port Royal at the time of his visit there in 1686. He had ample opportunity of becoming familiar with the country and its native inhabitants, and was in this way fitted to second the ambitious designs of the French, which embraced the destruction of New York and the conquest of New England.

When Count Frontenac came out to Quebec in 1689, to fill for the second time the position of Governor and Commander-in-Chief of New France, he was in his seventieth year, yet his old time vigor and determination were unabated. It was part of his plan to avail himself of the hostility of the savages to wear down and discourage the English settlers and so to pave the way for French supremacy. He had no abler lieutenants in the work he had undertaken than the sons of Charles le Moyne, of whom Villebon, Portneuf and d'Iberville were particularly conspicuous in the Indian wars. Immediately after his arrival, Frontenac encouraged the savages to begin those operations against the English settlements known in the history of New England as the "winter raids." Montague Chamberlain tersely describes the situation thus: "Frontenac decided that he could only succeed in holding Canada for the French crown by enlisting the aid of the savages, and to secure that aid he must permit them to make war in their own savage way, and so from all the doomed hamlets came the same horrifying tale—houses burned, men, women and children slaughtered or carried into captivity."

It is difficult at this distant day to conceive the horrors of the savage warfare that prevailed at this time on the New England frontiers. The Indians roamed over the country like wolves, and the white settlers never knew when their appalling war whoop would ring in their startled ears. It was an age of cruelty and the outrages perpetrated provoked reprisals on the part of the New Englanders. The close alliance between the Indians and the French, and the fact that in several of the raids the savages were led by French officers, led to a bitter race hatred and mutual distrust between the descendants of the Saxon and the Gaul, which lasted for generations.

In the course of the desultory warfare that followed the destruction of Falmouth, more than 200 houses were burned in various parts of the country, and Frontenac himself speaks of the ravages of the savages as "impossible to describe." On the 5th February, 1692, they raided the frontier settlement of York, which they left in ashes after killing about seventy-five persons and taking 100 prisoners—among those killed was the venerable Mr. Dummer, the minister of the place.

With the opening of the spring time Villebon received a delegation of 100 warriors of the Kennebec and Penobscot tribes at his fort. The visitors were welcomed with imposing ceremonies; there was the usual interchange of compliments and speeches by the chiefs and captains, presents from the king were distributed and the inevitable banquet followed with its mirth and revelry. It was agreed at this conference to organize a great war party. Couriers were dispatched to summon all the tribes of Acadia and the response was general. The site of what is now the village of Gibson, opposite Fredericton, was dotted with the encampments of the Indians, and as the warriors arrived and departed, arrayed in their war paint and feathers, the scene was animated and picturesque. The Maliseets of the St. John sent their delegation from Medoctec, the Micmacs of the Miramichi arrived a few days later, and then came another band of Micmacs from Beaubassin (or Chignecto), accompanied by Father Baudoin, their priest. Speeches of welcome, presents and feasts were made in turn to all, and each band proceeded by the old and well known route[6] to the rendezvous on the Penobscot, near Oldtown (Maine.) Here there gathered a war party of at least 400 men, including a score of Frenchmen. Their first attack was made on the little village of Wells, where there were only some thirty men to resist the attack, but they were led by Captain Converse, a very courageous and determined officer, who had already tried the mettle of the savages and who was not to be overawed even by overwhelming numbers. The attacking party advanced with hideous yells, firing and calling on the English to surrender, but the bullets of the defenders was the only answer they received. Even the women of the settlement took part in the fight, passing ammunition to the men, loading their guns, and sometimes themselves firing on the enemy.

[6] The route was up the St. John to the Medoctec village, thence by Eel river and the chain of lakes to the Mattawamkeag and down that river to the Penobscot.

The savages became discouraged and offered favorable terms to the garrison, Converse replied: "We want nothing but men to fight with." An Indian, who could speak English, shouted, "Don't stay in the house like a squaw, come out and fight like a man!" Converse replied: "Do you think I am fool enough to come out with thirty men to fight five hundred?" The Indians at length abandoned the attack and retired greatly crest fallen. Thus a few determined men foiled one of the most formidable bands that ever took the war path in Acadia.

Same of the horrors of Indian warfare almost pass description and if Villebon did not sanction he at least did little to hinder the atrocities of his savage allies. He writes in his journal, "An English savage was taken on the lower part of the St. John river; I gave him to our savages to be burned, which they did the next day; one could add nothing to the torments that they made him suffer."

From time to time the Indians appear to have grown weary of fighting. Their failure at Wells, the rebuilding of Fort Pemaquid and the erection of other fortifications by the now thoroughly aroused New Englanders, the desire for the ransom of relatives held by the enemy as hostages, and a suspicion that the French were making use of them in their own interest inclined them to make peace with the English. Villebon was obliged to exert all his influence to keep them on the war path. He flattered and feasted the chiefs, made presents to the warriors, provided powder and shot for their hunting and finally adopted Taxous, one of their most famous chiefs, as his brother and to honor the occasion gave him his own best coat.

The journals and correspondence of Villebon are full of interest to the student of affairs on the St. John. At this time there came annually to St. John harbor—then known by its Indian name, Menagoesche—a French man of war with supplies for Fort Nachouac and a variety of articles for the Indians. An inventory now in the Boston Public Library, dated 1693, shows that in that year the frigate "Suzanne" brought out for the "Malecites" a supply of powder, lead, guns, bayonets; also shirts, blankets, laced hats, etc. The arrival of the annual warships was eagerly looked for by the Indians and Villebon was able to make good use of the articles he received. The reference made by John Gyles in his narrative to the arrival of the ships from France is of interest. "There came annually," he says, "one or two men of war to supply the fort which was on the river about 34 leagues from the sea. The Indians (of Medoctec) having advice of the arrival of a man of war at the mouth of the river, they about forty in number went on board, for the gentlemen from France made a present to them every year, and set forth the riches and victories of their monarch, etc. At this time they presented the Indians with a bag or two of flour with some prunes as ingredients for a feast.

"I, who was dressed up in an old greasy blanket without cap, hat or shirt, (for I had no shirt for six years, except the one I had on at the time I was made prisoner) was invited into the great cabin, where many well-rigged gentlemen were sitting, who would fain have had a full view of me. I endeavored to hide myself behind the hangings, for I was much ashamed, thinking how I had once worn clothes and of my living with people who could rig as well as the best of them.... This was the first time I had seen the sea during my captivity, and the first time I had tasted salt or bread. My master presently went on shore and a few days later all the Indians went up the river."

In connection with Villebon's endeavors to keep the savages loyal to the king of France there are items in the accounts transmitted by him to the French minister that are quite interesting and suggestive, as for example the following:

"To the wife of Nadanouil, a savage, for making two pairs of snowshoes for the King, tobacco 2 lbs."

"Jan., 1696. To 2 savages come from the river of Medoctic to bring some letters of Father Simon to Mon. de Villebon, flour, 12 lbs.; tobacco, 8 oz.

"July 10, 1696. M. Thury, missionary, having arrived with Taxous, chief of the Canibas and other savages from Pentagouet; brandy, 1 gallon; tobacco, 2 lbs."

The garrison at Fort Nashwaak was always small, comprising only about forty soldiers besides an armorer, gunner and surgeon. There was also a chaplain of the Recollet order, Father Elizee, who is described as a man so retiring by nature as to meddle with nothing outside his ministerial duty. This was not the case with the other missionary priests, however, who influenced by patriotic motives and encouraged by the French authorities took quite an energetic part in helping on the warfare against New England. The French owed much of the aid afforded their cause, including the co-operation of their Indian allies, to the zeal of the missionaries settled on the different rivers, Ralle on the Kennebec, Thury on the Penobscot and Simon on the St. John. The only woman who lived within the ramparts of Fort Nashwaak seems to have been the wife of the armorer. She was deemed one of the garrison and received her daily allowance with the rest.

In spite of Villebon's energy and ability and of his zeal in the service of his country very serious complaints were made against him by some of the French people living on the St. John river. They asserted that his threats and ill usage had caused several of the settlers to abandon their habitations and remove to Quebec with their families; that he tried to monopolize the fur trade, sending his brothers Portneuf and des Isles into the woods to engage in unlawful traffic with the Indians; that the former was guilty of gross immorality and the latter traded the peltry obtained from the savages with one John Alden, an Englishman, by whom it was carried to Boston. This John Alden was, by the way, the eldest son of the famous John Alden of the "Mayflower," the Plymouth magistrate, by his wife Priscilla, the Puritan maiden immortalized by Longfellow. He made many trading voyages to the Bay of Fundy and on several occasions narrowly escaped capture by the French.

That there was some ground for the charges preferred against Villebon seems likely from the fact that most of the missionaries censured him and confirmed the reports of the inhabitants concerning the misconduct of his brothers. The chaplain at Fort Nachouac, however, spoke favorably of Villebon, although he was silent with regard to Portneuf. In his letters to the authorities in France, Villebon vigorously replies to his accusers and brings counter charges; he is seemingly very indignant with the d'Amour brothers of whom we shall hear more in another chapter.

In consequence of the charges preferred against him Portneuf was superseded by Villieu, an officer of reputation whom Count Frontenac sent to Acadia in October, 1693, to lead the savages against the English. This new lieutenant spent the winter at the Nashwaak fort and as soon as the ice was out of the river went in a canoe to Medoctec, where he assembled the chiefs who promised to assist him. He then proceeded to Penobscot resolved to put an end, if possible, to the parleys that the savages had been holding with the English and to incite them to renew the war. After a week's negotiation, in which he was aided by the powerful influence of the missionaries Bigot and Thury, he returned to Fort Nachouac with a delegation of the Indians to receive the presents which the King of France had sent to them, and at the same time to secure the assistance of some of Governor Villebon's soldiers. The governor, however, piqued by the dismissal of Portneuf, contented himself with entertaining the delegates. He declined to furnish provisions or supplies, and kept his soldiers from joining the expedition. Father Simon, the Recollet missionary on the St. John, also displayed little sympathy with Villieu and kept many of the Indians from joining him. However, with the help of the Penobscot and Kennebec tribes a band of 250 warriors was at last collected and Villieu placed himself at their head arrayed in the war paint and feathers of an Indian chief. It was decided to strike a blow at the settlement of Oyster River, twelve miles from Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The English settlers, having been informed that peace had been made with the Indians and that they could now work with safety on their farms, were totally unprepared for an attack. Among their unprotected houses the carnage was horrible. One hundred persons, chiefly women and children, half naked from their beds, were tomahawked, shot, or killed by slower and more cruel methods, twenty seven were kept as prisoners.

After engaging in some minor depredations Villieu proceeded to Montreal accompanied by several of the chiefs where they presented a string of English scalps to Count Frontenac as a token of their success and received his hearty congratulations. Villieu thus summed up the results of the campaign: "Two small forts and fifty or sixty houses captured and burnt, and one hundred and thirty English killed or made prisoners." He had done his work all too well and had sown such seeds of distrust between the English and the Indians as to render it almost impossible to re-establish peace between them. The enmity lasted for generations and almost every year witnessed some act of hostility even though the crowns of France and England were themselves at peace.

In the midst of their triumphs an appalling pestilence swept away great numbers of the Indians. On the River St. John more than one hundred and twenty persons died, including some of the most noted warriors and their chief. The pestilence scattered the savages in all directions and for a time their town of Medoctec was abandoned. A party of warriors who went with Montigny, an officer of Villebon's garrison, to assist their brethren to the westward was sent back to Medoctec on account of the contagion that had broken out among them. The nature of the disease it is impossible at this distance of time to determine. It could scarcely have been smallpox, according to the description of John Gyles, who says: "A person seeming in perfect health would bleed at the mouth and nose, turn blue in spots and die in two or three hours." The first outbreak of the pestilence was in the autumn of 1694. A year later Mon. Tibierge, agent of the company of Acadia, writes that "the plague (la maladie) had broken out afresh: there had died on the river more than 120 persons of every age and sex."

The pestilence, however, did not put a stop to the Indian warfare. In June, 1695, Villebon assembled at his fort a general representation of the tribes of Acadia, including fourteen chiefs and their attendants; the conference lasted three days and the proceedings are reported at length in his journal. After the customary feasting and distribution of presents a standard of prices for the purchase and sale of goods was agreed upon more favorable to the natives than heretofore. The chiefs departed firmly resolved to continue the war against the English. Their opportunity did not come until the following summer when a combined effort on the part of the French and Indians resulted in the destruction of Fort William Henry at Pemaquid. This fortification had just been rebuilt by the colony of Massachusetts at a cost of L20,000 and was the strongest work the English colonists had up to that time erected in America. The walls had a compass in all of 747 feet and were of solid masonry, varying from 10 to 22 feet in height. Eight feet from the ground, where the walls had a thickness of six feet, there was a tier of 28 port holes. At one corner was a round tower 29 feet high. The fort was well manned and provisioned and was thought to be impregnable.

The leader of the enterprise, which resulted in the destruction of Fort William Henry, was Villebon's brother d'Iberville, whose romantic career has earned for him the description of "the Cid of New France." D'Iberville's Indian auxiliaries included Micmacs from Cape Breton, a large band of Maliseets and many of their kindred of Passamaquoddy, Penobscot and Kennebec. Two warships lately arrived from Quebec, accompanied the expedition.

Villebon left his fort on the 18th June to go to "Menagoesche" to await the coming of the French ships. On his arrival there he discovered the British ships Sorlings of 34 guns and Newport of 24 guns cruising near the harbor and sent information to d'Iberville in order that he might guard against surprise. Soon after entering the Bay of Fundy the French vessels sighted their antagonists and an engagement ensued in the course of which d'Iberville in the Envieux dismasted the smaller English vessel, the Newport, and obliged her to surrender. Favored by night and fog the Sorlings managed to escape after a combat with the Profond lasting three hours. The next day, July 15, 1696, the vessels put into St. John harbor, where they were welcomed by Villebon and Father Simon and a band of Indians. Before proceeding to the attack of Pemaquid an attempt was made to capture John Alden at Port Royal but with his usual good luck he sailed thence just before the arrival of the French. Villebon with Father Simon's assistance contrived to collect 150 Indians—Maliseets and Micmacs—to join the expedition under his brother, which was further reinforced by a small vessel owned and commanded by the Sieur de Chauffours, an inhabitant of the St. John river.

The start of the expedition was not a very auspicious one, for on leaving the harbor of St. John (or "havre de Menuagoesche," as Villebon calls it) at 2 o'clock on the afternoon of the 2nd of August, d'Iberville ran the Envieux upon a reef; however, the damage was not serious as the ship floated when the tide rose. At Penobscot Baron St. Castin joined the expedition with 130 Indians. The French priests Simon and Thury, as the event proved, were no mere figure heads; they actively assisted in the operations of the siege and at the same time restrained the passions of the savages. Batteries were erected within half cannon shot of the fort and it was summoned to surrender. Captain Chubb, the commander, proved to be a weak man for so responsible a position. He at first replied that though the sea were covered with French ships and the land with Indians he would not surrender unless compelled to do so, but the very next day ignominiously pulled down his flag. D'Iberville sent the garrison to Boston in the vessel belonging to the Sieur de Chauffours which he had brought from the St. John river. The people of New England were greatly vexed at the destruction of Pemaquid and enraged at the cowardly conduct of its commander. Father Simon got back to Fort Nachouac on the 29th August bringing the news of d'Iberville's success.



CHAPTER VI.

NACHOUAC AND MENAGOUECHE.

It was now proposed by the French authorities to re-establish the stronghold at the mouth of the St. John. The old fort of four bastions so far remained that it could readily be restored; the ditches needed to be deepened, the parapets to be raised and new palisades constructed. It was thought that 150 men would suffice to garrison the post as well as that at the Nashwaak. The fort was needed to protect French privateers and French commerce. Many English vessels were brought to Menagoueche at this time by the privateersmen Baptiste and Guyon. The company of Acadia, with Tibierge as their agent, continued to develop a thriving trade, and it seems, too, that the forest wealth of the country was beginning to attract attention for Villebon, a year or two later, sent home to France a mast, as a specimen, 82 feet long, 31 inches in diameter at one end and 21 at the other.

The French privateers were not allowed to ply their vocation with impunity, they often had spirited encounters with the British ships in which there were losses on both sides.

In 1694 one Robineau of Nantes, who had taken several English vessels, was forced to burn his ship in St. John harbor, in order to escape capture by an English ship, and to defend himself on shore. The vessels employed as privateers evidently were small, for they sometimes went up the river to Villebon's fort. The prisoners taken were kept at the fort or put in charge of the French inhabitants living on the river, and from time to time ransomed by their friends or exchanged for French prisoners taken by the English. Villebon informs us that in June, 1695, an English frigate and a sloop arrived at Menagoueche (St. John) on business connected with the ransom of eight captives who were then in the hands of the French. Messages were exchanged with Nachouac and the captain of the English ship, a jovial old tar, expressed a wish to meet Governor Villebon and "drink with him" and to see Captain Baptiste, whom he called a brave man, but his overtures were declined.

The ships Envieux and Profond, before proceeding to the attack of Fort Pemaquid, had landed at St. John a number of cannon and materials of all sorts to be used in the construction of the new fort. This project was not viewed with complacency by the people of New England, and Lieut.-Governor William Stoughton, of Massachusetts, thus explains the line of action proposed against the French in a communication addressed to Major Benjamin Church, the old Indian fighter, who had been sent from Boston in August, 1696, on an expedition against the settlements of Acadia: "Sir, His Majesty's ship Orford having lately surprised a French shallop with 23 of the soldiers belonging to the fort (at Nashwaak) upon St. John's river in Nova Scotia, together with Villieu, their captain, providence seems to encourage the forming of an expedition to attack that fort, and to disrest and remove the enemy from that post, which is the chief source from whence the most of our disasters do issue, and also to favor with an opportunity for gaining out of their hands the ordnance, artillery, and other warlike stores and provisions lately supplied to them from France for erecting a new fort near the river's mouth, whereby they will be greatly strengthened and the reducing of them rendered more difficult."

Before the order from which the above extract is quoted was placed in Major Church's hands he had arrived at St. John, having previously devastated the French settlements at Chignecto. Being desirous, if possible, to surprise the men engaged upon the new fort Church landed at Manawagonish Cove, a little to the west of the harbor; what followed we shall let him tell in his own quaint fashion. "Next morning early the Major, with his forces, landed to see what discovery they could make, travelled across the woods to the old fort or falls at the mouth of St. John's river, keeping themselves undiscovered from the enemy. Finding that there were several men at work, and having informed themselves as much as they could, returned back (the enemy being on the other side of the river could not come at them). But night coming on and dark wet weather with bad travelling, were obliged to stop in the woods till towards next day morning and then went on board. Soon after the Major ordered all the vessels to come to sail and go into the mouth of the river, the French firing briskly at them, but did them no harm, and running fiercely upon the enemy they soon fled to the woods. The Major ordered a brisk party to run across a neck to cut them off from their canoes[7] which the day before they had made a discovery of. So the commander, with the rest, ran directly towards the new fort they were building, not knowing but they had some ordnance mounted. The enemy running directly to their canoes were met by our forces who fired at them, and killed one and wounded Corporal Canton, who was taken. The rest threw down what they had and ran into the woods. The prisoner Canton being brought to the Major told him if he would let his surgeon dress his wound and cure him he would be serviceable to him as long as he lived. So being dressed he was examined and gave the Major an account of the twelve great guns which were hid in the beach, below high water mark—the carriages, shot, and wheelbarrows, some flour and pork all hid in the woods.

[7] These canoes were probably lying in the cove at Indiantown just above the falls.

"The next morning the officers being all ordered to meet together to consult about going to Vilboon's fort, and none amongst them being acquainted but the Aldens, who said the water in the river was very low so that they could not get up to the fort; and the prisoner Canton told the commander that what the Aldens said was true * * so concluded it was not practicable to proceed. Then ordered some of the forces to get the great guns on board the open sloops and the rest to range the woods for the enemy, who took one prisoner and brought him in. * * Now having with a great deal of pains and trouble got all the guns, shot, and other stores aboard intended on our design which we came out first for. But the wind not serving, the commander sent out his scouts into the woods to seek for the enemy. And four of our Indians coming upon three Frenchmen undiscovered concluded that if the French should discover them they would fire at them and might kill one or more of them, which to prevent fired at the French, killed one and took the other two prisoners. And it happened that he who was killed was Shavelere (Chevalier), the chief man there."

Major Church's design was to make a raid on the settlement of Baron St. Castin and his Indians at Penobscot by way of retaliation for the destruction of Fort William Henry at Pemaquid, but as he was sailing down the bay he met a small squadron having on board a reinforcement of 100 men under Colonel Hawthorne. The command now passed to Hawthorne as the senior officer, and it was decided to attempt the capture of Fort Nachouac. This was against the advice of Major Church, but as the expedition now numbered about 500 men, Hawthorne was unwilling to return to Boston without striking a blow at the chief stronghold of the French in Acadia.

Villebon was on the alert: he had stationed his ensign, Chevalier, with five scouts at the mouth of the river and on the 4th of October he learned of the presence of the English at Menagoueche. Chevalier was at first alarmed by the appearance of Church's ships off Partridge Island, and sent word directly to Fort Nachouac; a day or two later he was killed by some of Church's Indians as already related. Villebon sent his brother Neuvillette down the river to continue the look out and in the meantime made every possible preparation for a siege. His garrison, numbering about 100 soldiers, was busily employed in throwing up new intrenchments and mounting additional guns, word was sent to the French inhabitants of the vicinity to repair to the fort and assist in its defence, and Villebon, on the 11th October, sent an urgent message to Father Simon, the missionary at Medoctec, to get the Indians to come down as soon as possible if they wished to fight the English. He lost not a moment and having sent out word on all sides (the Indians being then dispersed upon the river) he arrived the afternoon of the 14th, with thirty-six warriors and expressed his desire to remain at the fort as the chaplain was absent. Two days later Neuvillette returned to the fort and reported that he had seen the enemy in great force about a league and a half below the Jemseg. The last preparations were now hurriedly made and on the evening of the 17th, Villebon caused the "generale" (or assembly) to be beat and all the garrison being drawn up under arms he addressed them in stirring words, bidding them to maintain the honor of their country and the reputation of French soldiers, adding that if any should be maimed in the approaching combat the king would provide for him during the rest of his life. This speech created the greatest enthusiasm and the cry of "Vive le roy" awoke the forest echoes and was borne over the waters. The same evening a dozen Frenchmen who lived in the vicinity arrived at the fort. Among them were the brothers Mathieu and Rene d'Amours and the privateersman Baptiste. Villebon assigned to Baptiste and Rene d'Amours the duty of heading the Indians and opposing the landing of the English.

The sketch on the next page, based upon a plan in the archives de la Marine, Paris[8] will serve to give an idea of the general character of Fort Nachouac. The space of ground enclosed by the palisade was about 125 feet square; the site, as already stated, lay in the upper angle formed by the junction of the Nashwaak with the river St. John, nearly opposite the Cathedral in Fredericton. The general arrangement of the buildings is shown in the plan. At the rear of the enclosure is the commandant's lodging, on the right hand side the guard house and on the left the soldiers' barracks; at the front is the gate and in the lower left hand corner the bake oven; cannons were placed at each corner. A small room in the left end of the commandant's lodging was fitted up as a chapel. The ditches and ramparts that surrounded the enclosure added considerably to the strength of the position. The bastions were so arranged that the space outside the walls was entirely commanded by the musketry fire of the defenders. The loopholes at the corners from which the fire was delivered are shown in the sketch.

[8] The author is indebted to Dr. W. F. Ganong for his kindness in furnishing the sketch from which the accompanying plan of illustration has been made. It is not, of course, a copy of the original, but gives an idea of the general character of the fortification.



Everything being now in order for the defence of his fort Villebon ordered the garrison to pass the night under arms, as from the barking of the dogs it was believed the enemy was drawing near. The next morning between eight and nine o'clock, whilst Father Simon was celebrating mass in the chapel, a shallop filled with armed men rounded the point below, followed by two others. The alarm was at once given and every man repaired to his post. The sloops approached within the distance of half a cannon shot when the guns of the fort opened on them and they were forced to retire below the point where they effected a landing. Villebon did not deem it prudent to oppose the landing as his men would have had to cross the Nashwaak river to do so and this would have been very imprudent. The English took up a position on the south side of the Nashwaak stream and threw up an earthwork upon which they placed two field guns from which they opened fire on the fort; a third gun of larger size was mounted soon afterwards nearer the fort, but not being sheltered it was not much used. The beseigers hoisted the royal standard of England and there were cheers and counter-cheers on the part of the combatants. The cannon fire was heavy on both sides but the guns of the fort being better mounted and well served had rather the advantage. There was also a sharp exchange of musketry fire, the St. John river Indians, from the bushes along the shore, engaging in a vicious fight with Church's Indians on the opposite side of the stream. When darkness ended the day's struggle the English had made little or no progress. The following night being very cold they made fires to keep themselves from freezing, but this afforded a sure mark for the French cannon, which opened on them with grape shot, and they were obliged to put them out and suffer the inclemency of the weather. Major Church's men being almost bare of clothing from their long service, suffered extremely and were ill disposed to continue the siege. At daybreak the musketry fire from the fort recommenced and about 8 o'clock the English again got their guns into operation, but la Cote, who had distinguished himself the evening before by firing rapidly and accurately, dismounted one of their field guns and silenced the other.

It was now apparent that the fort could not be taken without a regular investment and in view of the lateness of the season this was not deemed advisable. The Massachusetts historian Mather quaintly observes, "The difficulty of the cold season so discouraged our men that after some few shot the enterprize found itself under too much congelation to proceed any further." And so the following night the New England troops re-embarked after lighting fires over a considerable extent of ground in order to deceive the French. When the morning dawned their camp was deserted and soon after Neuvillette, who had been sent down the river to reconnoitre, reported that after he had gone three leagues he found them embarked in four vessels of about 60 tons and going down the river with a fair wind. On their return towards the mouth of the river the invaders burned the house and barns of Mathieu d'Amours at Freneuse, opposite the Oromocto, and laid waste his fields. The sieur de Freneuse was himself so much injured by exposure during the siege that he died shortly afterwards. Major Church took back with him to Boston a Negro man of Marblehead, who had been taken prisoner by the French and kept amongst them for some time. He was probably the first of his race to set foot within the borders of New Brunswick.

In the siege of his fort Villebon lost only one man killed and two wounded while the English loss is said to have been eight soldiers killed and five officers and twelve soldiers wounded.

The effect of the capture of Pemaquid by d'Iberville and the repulse of the English by Villebon greatly encouraged the savages of Acadia in their hostility and the following summer another raid on the English settlements was planned. A large number of Micmacs came from the eastward, some of them from the Basin of Minas, with St. Cosme, their priest, at their head. They were entertained by Villebon, furnished with ammunition and supplies and sent on to the rendezvous at Penobscot. Father Simon and 72 Maliseets were sent in the same direction soon afterwards with instructions to pick up the Passamaquoddies on their way; they departed in high spirits with the intention of giving no quarter to the enemy and Villebon encouraged their animosity, exhorting them "to burn and to destroy." This advice they followed to the letter for the Governor wrote in his journal shortly afterwards, "the missionary, M. de Thury, confirms the report I already had received of four small parties of our Indians having killed fifteen or sixteen English and burnt one of them alive on account of one of their chiefs being slain." The vindictiveness of the Indians is further illustrated by an incident that happened at the Medoctic village in the time of King William's war, in which John Gyles and James Alexander, two English captives, were cruelly abused. A party of Indians from Cape Sable, having had some of their relatives killed by English fishermen, travelled all the way to Medoctec in order to wreak their vengeance upon any English captives they might find. They rushed upon their unfortunate victims like bears bereaved of their whelps, saying, "Shall we, who have lost our relations by the English, suffer an English voice to be heard among us?" The two captives were brutally beaten and ill used and made to go through a variety of performances for the amusement of their tormenters. Gyles says: "They put a tomahawk into my hands and ordered me to get up, sing and dance Indian, which I performed with the greatest reluctance and while in the act seemed determined to purchase my death by killing two or three of these monsters of cruelty, thinking it impossible to survive the bloody treatment.... Not one of them showed the least compassion, but I saw the tears run down plentifully on the cheeks of a Frenchman who sat behind." The tortures were continued until the evening of what Gyles might well call "a very tedious day." Finally a couple of Indians threw the two wretched men out of the big wigwam, where they had been tormented; they crawled away on their hands and knees and were scarcely able to walk for several days.

The experience of Gyles was, however, nothing in comparison with that of his brother and another captive taken by the Indians at the same time as himself. This unfortunate pair attempted to desert, but failed and were subjected to the most horrible tortures and finally burned alive by the savages.

The people of the frontier settlements were now so on the alert that, although the Indians roamed over the country like wolves, they were usually prepared to meet them. Every little village had its block house and sentinels, and every farmer worked in his fields with his musket at his side. Nevertheless tragic events occasionally happened. In February, 1698, Captain Chubb, of Pemaquid notoriety, and six others were killed by the Indians at Andover, several of the inhabitants were captured and many houses burned; Major Frost was slain at Kittery and a number of people at Wells; Major Marsh had a sharp fight near Pemaquid, in which he lost twenty-five of his men, but succeeded in putting the savages to rout. This was the last blood shed during King William's war. The Indians were becoming weary of fighting and the peace of Ryswick deprived them of the open assistance of their French allies. For a brief season peace reigned in Acadia.

The expedition under Church had interrupted the rebuilding of the fort at St. John and shown the correctness of Villebon's prediction in a letter written to the French minister in 1696 that it was impossible with the few men at his disposal to attempt a work which, though easy to repair could not be completed as quickly as the enemy could get ready to destroy it. In the same letter he speaks of making plank near Fort Nachouac for the madriens, or gun platforms, of the fort at Menagoueche. As there were mills at this time at Port Royal, it would be possible from this incident to frame a theory that Villebon had a saw mill a short distance up the Nashwaak, say at Marysville, but it is more probable the planks were cut in saw pits by the soldiers of the garrison. The plan of the fort at St. John was agreed on in 1698, and 3,000 livres granted for its construction. Villebon paid his workmen 30 sous (about 30 cts.) a day, his laborers 20 sous, and the soldiers 4 sous a day over their pay and a weekly allowance of 1 qr. lb. tobacco. The walls of the fort were laid in clay and mortar, 24 pounders were placed on the bastions and 36-pounders could be placed there three on each bastion. By the end of the year Villebon was able to report the fort in a condition to do honor to whoever should defend it. He had left Nachouac just as it was, leaving only two men to see that nothing was spoiled by the savages.

A plan in the Marine Archives at Paris, made by Villieu in 1700, shows that "Fort de la Riviere de St. Jean," or Fort Menagoueche, was built at "Old Fort Site," behind Navy Island in Carleton. The general plan was the same as that of Fort Nachouac, but it was considerably larger, nearly 200 feet square. Within the enclosure were barracks for the soldiers, a residence for the governor with small chapel adjoining it, a house for the officers of the garrison, lodgings for the surgeon, gunner and armorer, a small prison and a well, and just outside the gate were two bake-houses. The water supply of the fort seems always to have been inadequate. The sieur des Goutins, who disliked Villebon, complains in a letter of 23rd June, 1699, "the Governor keeps the water within the fort for the exclusive use of his kitchen and his mare, others being obliged to use snow-water, often very dirty." Diereville, who visited St. John during his short stay in Acadia describes the fort as "built of earth, with four bastions fraised (or picketed) each having six large guns." A new industry was now coming into existence, namely the shipping of masts to France for the King's navy; Diereville sailed to France in the Avenant "a good King's ship," mounting 44 guns which had brought out the ammunition and provisions that Placentia and the Fort on the River St. John received annually. This ship took on board a number of fine masts that 14 carpenters and mast makers in his majesty's service had manufactured at the River St. John. The vessel left Acadia on the 6th of October and reached France in 33 days.

The period of Governor Villebon's residence at St. John was of about two years' duration. He died on the 5th July, 1700, and was buried near the fort. The life of this devoted son of New France went out with the century and with his death the seat of government of Acadia was again transferred to Port Royal.

Brouillan now succeeded to the command. He found the fort at St. John in good order, as was to be expected, it having been just rebuilt, but in the opinion of the new governor it was of little use for the glory of the King or for the preservation of the country. He condemned the situation as being commanded on one side by an island at the distance of a pistol shot, and on the other by a height at the distance only of a hundred and odd fathoms (toises), and with a very insufficient water supply. He therefore caused the fortifications to be razed, demolished the houses, and carried away the guns and everything else of a portable character to Port Royal. The inhabitants living on the River St. John were left without protection and they seem almost without exception to have removed, some to Quebec and others to Port Royal. The valley of the St. John was thus left as deserted and desolate as it had been previous to the arrival of Champlain. The Indian might wander at will among the ruins of forts and dwellings abandoned to his care, or left to be converted into hiding places for the wild beasts and wonder at the folly of the white man who had forsaken the finest river in all Acadia with its wealth of forest and stream and its fertile lands awaiting the hands of industry and thrift.



CHAPTER VII.

THE BROTHERS D'AMOURS.

Among the young adventurers who came to Acadia towards the close of the seventeenth century were four brothers, sons of Mathieu d'Amours[9] of Quebec. The father's political influence as a member of the Supreme Council enabled him to obtain for each of his sons an extensive seigniory. That of Louis d'Amours, the eldest, included a tract of land of generous proportions at the Richibucto river; the grant was issued September 20, 1684, but the seignior had already built there a fort and two small houses, and for two years had been cultivating a piece of land. His sojourn was brief, for in a year or two we find him living on the River St. John, where his brothers Mathieu and Rene were settled and where they were not long after joined by their brother Bernard.

[9] This gentleman married in 1652 Marie, the eldest daughter of Nicolas Marselot of Quebec; she was a very youthful bride, being only 14 years old at the time of her marriage; she was the mother of 15 children.

As mentioned in a previous chapter, it was customary among the French noblesse for each son to take a surname derived from some portion of the family estate; accordingly the sons of Councillor d'Amours figure in history as Louis d'Amours, sieur de Chauffours; Mathieu d'Amours, sieur de Freneuse; Rene d'Amours, sieur de Clignancourt and Bernard d'Amours, sieur de Plenne.

After his arrival at the River St. John, Louis d'Amours fixed his abode on the banks of the Jemseg and became the proprietor of the seigniory formerly owned by the sieur de Soulanges. His brother, and nearest neighbor, Mathieu's seigniory included all the land "between Gemisik and Nachouac," two leagues in depth on each side of the river. The wives of Louis and Mathieu d'Amours were sisters, Marguerite and Louise Guyon of Quebec.

To Rene d'Amours, sieur de Clignancourt, was granted a seigniory extending from the Indian village of Medoctec to the "longue sault." The longue sault was probably the Meductic rapids twelve miles below the village of Medoctec, although it may have been the Grand Falls eighty miles above. The sieur de Clignancourt fixed his headquarters a few miles above Fredericton at or near Eccles Island, which was formerly called "Cleoncore"—a corruption of Clignancourt. An old census shows he lived in that vicinity in 1696, and this is confirmed by a statement in an official report of the same year that he lived a league from Fort Nachouac. Rene d'Amours had an extensive trade with the Indians, he was unmarried and lived the life of a typical "coureur de bois."

Bernard d'Amours, the youngest of the quartette, came to Acadia rather later than his brothers and was granted a seigniory at Canibecachice (Kennebecasis), a league and a half along each side of the river and two leagues in depth.[10] He married Jeanne le Borgne, and their son Alexander was baptized at Port Royal in 1702 by a Recollet missionary.

[10] The grants of Louis d'Amours at Richibucto, and of Mathieu and Rene on the St. John river are of the same date, September 20, 1684; that of Bernard on the Kennebeccasis is dated June 20, 1695.

The brothers d'Amours were in the prime of life when they came to Acadia; the census of de Meulles taken in 1686 gives the age of Louis as 32 years and that of Mathieu as 28. All the brothers engaged in hunting and trading with the Indians and were in consequence disliked by Governor Villebon, who viewed them with a jealous eye and mentions them in unfavorable terms in his official dispatches. Villebon's hostility was no doubt intensified by a representation made to the French ministry in 1692 by Louis d'Amours that the Governor of Acadia, to advance his own private fortune, engaged in trade, absolutely prohibited by his majesty, both with the natives of the country and with the people of New England.

Frontenac and Champigny at this time filled the offices respectively of governor and intendant (or lieutenant governor) of New France, and the king in his message to them, dated at Versailles June 14, 1695, refers to matters on the River St. John in the following terms:

"His Majesty finds it necessary to speak on the subject of the grants obtained by the Sieurs d'Amours, which comprehend an immense tract of land along the River St. John. It is commonly reported that since they have lived there they have not engaged in clearing and cultivating their lands, that they have no cattle nor any other employment than that of a miserable traffic exclusively with the savages; and as his Majesty has been informed that the lands in those parts are the best in the world, watered by large rivers and in a situation more temperate and pleasant than other parts of Canada, the sieurs d'Amours must be compelled to establish themselves upon a better footing; and those people who are to have new grants of land are directed to this part of Acadia where, as his Majesty is informed, the sieurs d'Amours pretend to have exclusive possession of about thirty leagues of country."

That the sentiments of this royal message were inspired by Villebon is evident from the tenor of the letters he addresses to the French ministry at this time. In one of these he says of the brothers d'Amours: "They are four in number living on the St. John river. They are given up to licentiousness and independence for the ten or twelve years they have been here. They are disobedient and seditious and require to be watched." In another communication he scornfully terms them "the pretended gentry" (soi disant gentilhommes). Writing to the French minister the next year he observes: "I have no more reason, my lord, to be satisfied with the sieurs d'Amours than I previously had. The one who has come from France has not pleased me more than the other two. Their minds are wholly spoiled by long licentiousness and the manners they have acquired among the Indians, and they must be watched closely as I had the honor to state to you last year."

Fortunately for the reputation of the brothers d'Amours we have evidence that places them in a more favorable light than does the testimony of Governor Villebon. M. de Champigny, the intendant at Quebec, wrote to the French minister. "The sons of the sieur d'Amours, member of the supreme council at Quebec, who are settled on the River St. John, apply themselves chiefly to cultivating their lands and raising cattle.

"I sent you, my Lord, the census of their domain, which has been made by Father Simon, the Recollet, who is missionary on the same river, in which you may have every confidence, he being a very honest man. It is very unfortunate, my lord, that any one should have informed you that they lead a licentious life with the savages for I have reliable testimony that their conduct is very good. It seems as if all who live in that locality are in a state of discord; the inhabitants make great complaints against the Sieurs de Villebon and des Goutins. Some who have come to Quebec say they are constantly so harrassed and oppressed that if things are not put upon a better footing they will be compelled to abandon the country."

That the inhabitants living on the river were turning their attention to agriculture is shown by a communication to Frontenac or Champigny in 1696, in which the writer, probably Villieu, says: "I informed you last year, Monsieur, by the memo that I did myself the honor to send you, that the inhabitants of this river begin to cultivate their lands. I have since learned that they have raised some grain. M. de Chouffours, who had sown so considerably last year, has not received anything in return, the worms having eaten the seed in the ground; M. de Freneuse, his brother, has harvested about 15 hogsheads of wheat and M. de Clignancourt very little; M. Bellefontaine, about 5 hogsheads; the Sieur Martel very little, as he has only begun to cultivate his land during the last two years; the other inhabitants nothing at all, unless it is a little Indian corn. The Sieurs d'Amours, except the Sieur Clignancourt, have sown this year pretty considerably of wheat and the Sieur Bellefontaine also, the Sieur Martel some rye and wheat and much peas. The other inhabitants have sown some Indian corn, which would have turned out well only they have sown too late on account of their land being inundated."

Baron la Hontan visited Fort Nashouac about 1694. He describes the St. John as "a very pleasant river, adorned with fields that are very fertile in grain." He says that two gentlemen of the name of d'Amours have a settlement there for beaver hunting.

The census made in 1695 by Simon, the French missionary, shows that there were then ten families, numbering forty-nine persons, on the St. John river, besides the garrison at Fort Nachouac. Their live stock included 38 cattle and 116 swine; there were 166 acres of land under cultivation and 73 in pasture; the crop of that year included 130 bushels of wheat, 370 of corn, 30 of oats, 170 of peas.

The testimony of John Gyles, who spent three years in the family of Louis d'Amours at the Jemseg, conclusively disproves Villebon's assertion that the d'Amours tilled no land and kept no cattle. He speaks of a fine wheat field owned by his master, in which the blackbirds created great havoc and describes a curious attempt made by a friar to exorcise the birds. A procession was formed, headed by the friar, in his white robe with a young lad as his attendant and some thirty people following. Gyles asked some of the prisoners, who had lately been taken by privateers and brought to the Jemseg, whether they would go back with him to witness the ceremony, but they emphatically refused to witness it and when Gyles expressed his determination to go, one of them, named Woodbury, said he was "as bad as a papist and a d—d fool." The procession passed and re-passed from end to end of the field with solemn words of exorcism accompanied by the tinkling of a little bell, the blackbirds constantly rising before them only to light behind them. "At their return," says Gyles, "I told a French lad that the friar had done no service and recommended them to shoot the birds. The lad left me, as I thought, to see what the friar would say to my observation, which turned out to be the case, for he told the lad that the sins of the people were so great that he could not prevail against those birds."

A story analogous to this is related in Dr. Samuel Peters' history of Connecticut, of the celebrated George Whitefield, the New England Independent minister and revivalist: "Time not having destroyed the wall of the fort at Saybrooke, Whitefield, in 1740, attempted to bring down the wall as Joshua did those of Jericho, hoping thereby to convince the multitude of his divine mission. He walked seven times around the fort with prayer and ram's horn blowing, he called on the angel of Joshua to do as he had done at the walls of Jericho; but the angel was deaf to his call and the wall remained. Thereupon George cried aloud: 'This town is accursed and the wall shall stand as a monument of a sinful people!'"

Mathieu d'Amours, Sieur de Freneuse, seems to have thought seriously of leaving the St. John river on account of the difficulties and discouragements of his situation, for on the 6th August, 1696, he made out to one Michel Chartier, of Schoodic, in Acadia, a lease of his seignioral manor of Freneuse, consisting of 30 arpents (acres) of arable land under the plough, meadow, forest and undergrowth, with houses, barns and stables thereon, a cart and plough rigged ready for work; also all the oxen, cows, bullocks, goats, pigs, poultry, furniture and household utensils that might remain from the sale which he proposed to make. Chartier was to enjoy the right of trade with the Indians through the whole extent of the manor except where lands had been granted by the Sieur de Freneuse to private individuals. The lease was to be for a term of five years beginning with the first day of May following, and the lessee was to pay the Sieur de Freneuse 600 livres annually, half in money and half in small furs, such as beaver, otter and martins.

It is not likely that this transaction was ever consummated, for less than three months after the lease was arranged and six months before Chartier was to take possession, all the buildings of the Sieur de Freneuse were burned, his cattle destroyed and his fields laid waste by Hawthorne's expedition returning from their unsuccessful seige of Fort Nachouac. The original lease, a very interesting document, is now in possession of Dr. W. F. Ganong and a fac-simile of the signature of the Sieur de Freneuse is here given.[11]

[11] A copy of the original lease of the Seigniory of Freneuse, with translation, and remarks by Dr. Ganong, will be found in Vol. I., p. 121, of Acadiensis, printed at St. John by D. R. Jack, to whose kindness and that of Dr. Ganong I am indebted for the signature given above.—W. O. R.



The seigniory included both sides of the St. John river in Sunbury county, and the most fertile portions of the parishes of Maugerville, Sheffield, Burton and Lincoln. The name Freneuse is found in most of the maps of that region down to the time of the American Revolution. The residence of the Sieur de Freneuse stood on the east bank of the St. John opposite the mouth of the Oromocto river.

Mathieu d'Amours, as already stated, died in consequence of exposure at the siege of Fort Nachouac. Sixty years later the lands he had cleared and tilled and the site of his residence were transferred to the hands of the first English settlers on the river, the Maugerville colony of 1763. His widow, Madame Louise Guyon, went to Port Royal, where her indiscretion created a sensation that resulted in voluminous correspondence on the part of the authorities and finally led to her removal to Quebec.

Rene d'Amours, during his sojourn on the River St. John, was much engrossed in trade with the natives. He made periodical visits to their villages and was well known at Medoctec, where Gyles lived as a captive, and it is not unlikely the Frenchmen living at that village were his retainers. He seems to have made little or no attempt to fulfil the conditions necessary to retain possession of his seignioral manor, for to his mind the charms of hunting and trading surpassed those of farming. His visits to Medoctec to purchase furs and skins when the Indians had returned from their winter hunts were of doubtful advantage to the poor savages, for Gyles tells us that "when they came in from hunting they would be drunk and fight for several days and nights together, till they had spent most of their skins in wine and brandy, which was brought to the village by a Frenchman called Monsieur Sigenioncor" (Clignancourt).

The latter portion of the narrative of John Gyles throws light on the course of events on the St. John during Villebon's regime, and supplies us with a particularly interesting glimpse of domestic life in the home of Louis d'Amours on the banks of the Jemseg, where Gyles spent the happiest years of his captivity. The wife of the Sieur de Chauffours, Marguerite Guyon[12], appears in an especially amiable light. Her lonely situation and rude surroundings, the perils of the wilderness and of savage war, amidst which her little children were born, evoke our sympathy. Her goodness of heart is seen in her motherly kindness to Gyles, the young stranger of an alien race—the "little English," as she calls him. But with all her amiability and gentleness she possessed other and stronger qualities, and it was her woman's wit and readiness of resource that saved her husband's fortunes in a grave emergency. The story shall be told in Gyles' own words.

[12] Louis d'Amours married Marguerite Guyon in 1686, about the time he settled on the St. John river. They had three children.

"When about six years of my doleful captivity had passed, my second Indian master died, whose squaw and my first Indian disputed whose slave I should be. Some malicious persons advised them to end the quarrel by putting a period to my life; but honest father Simon, the priest of the river, told them that it would be a heinous crime and advised them to sell me to the French."

The suggestion of father Simon was adopted and Gyles, now in his sixteenth year, went with the missionary and the Indians to the mouth of the river, the occasion of their journey being the arrival of a French man-of-war at Menagoueche with supplies for the garrison and presents for the Indians.

"My master asked me," continues Gyles, "whether I chose to be sold aboard the man-of-war or to the inhabitants? I replied with tears, I should be glad if you would sell me to the English from whom you took me, but if I must be sold to the French, I chose to be sold to the lowest on the river, or nearest inhabitant to the sea, about 25 leagues from the mouth of the river; for I thought that if I were sold to the gentlemen aboard the man-of-war I should never return to the English. * * My master presently went on shore and a few days after all the Indians went up the river. When we came to a house which I had spoken to my master about, he went on shore with me and tarried all night. The master of the house (Louis d'Amours) spoke kindly to me in Indian, for I could not then speak one word of French. Madam also looked pleasant on me and gave me some bread. The next day I was sent six leagues further up the river to another French house. My master and the friar tarried with Monsieur De Chauffours, the gentleman who had entertained us the night before. Not long after father Simon came and said, 'Now you are one of us, for you are sold to that gentleman by whom you were entertained the other night.'

"I replied, 'Sold!—to a Frenchman!' I could say no more, but went into the woods alone and wept till I could scarce see or stand. The word 'sold,' and that to a people of that persuasion which my dear mother so much detested and in her last words manifested so great fears of my falling into; the thought almost broke my heart.

"When I had thus given vent to my grief I wiped my eyes, endeavoring to conceal its effects, but father Simon perceiving my eyes swollen, rolled me aside bidding me not to grieve, for the gentleman he said to whom I was sold was of a good humor; that he had formerly bought two captives of the Indians who both went home to Boston. This in some measure revived me; but he added he did not suppose that I would ever incline to go to the English for the French way of worship was much to be preferred. He said also he would pass that way in about ten days, and if I did not like to live with the French better than the Indians he would buy me again.

"On the day following, father Simon and my Indian master went up the river six and thirty leagues to their chief village and I went down the river six leagues with two Frenchmen to my new master. He kindly received me, and in a few days Madam made me an osnaburg shirt and French cap and a coat out of one of my master's old coats. Then I threw away my greasy blanket and Indian flap; and I never more saw the old friar, the Indian village or my Indian master till about fourteen years after when I saw my old Indian master at Port Royal, and again about twenty-four years since he came from St. John to Fort George to see me where I made him very welcome.

"My French master had a great trade with the Indians, which suited me very well, I being thorough in the language of the tribes at Cape Sable[13] and St. John. I had not lived long with this gentleman before he committed to me the keys of his store, etc., and my whole employment was trading and hunting, in which I acted faithfully for my master and never knowingly wronged him to the value of one farthing. They spoke to me so much in Indian that it was some time before I was perfect in the French tongue."

[13] The Micmacs, as distinguished from the St. John river Indians or Maliseets.

It was in the summer of the year 1695 that John Gyles was purchased of the Indians by Louis d'Amours, having been nearly six years in captivity at the Medoctec village. The strong prejudice against the French instilled into his mind by his mother, who was a devout puritan, was soon overcome by the kindness of Marguerite d'Amours.

The goods needed by the Sieur de Chauffours for his trade with the Indians were obtained from the man-of-war which came out annually from France, and Gyles was sometimes sent with the Frenchmen in his master's employ to the mouth of the river for supplies. On one of these trips, in the early spring time, the party in their frail canoes were caught in a violent storm as they were coming down the Kennebeccasis—having crossed over thither from Long Reach by way of Kingston Creek, the usual route of travel. They were driven on Long Island opposite Rothesay and remained there seven days without food, unable to return by reason of the northeast gale and unable to advance on account of the ice. At the expiration of that time the ice broke up and they were able to proceed, but in so exhausted a state that they could "scarce hear each other speak." After their arrival at St. John, two of the party very nearly died in consequence of eating too heartily, but Gyles had had such ample experience of fasting in his Indian life that he had learned wisdom, and by careful dieting suffered no evil consequences.

In the month of October, 1696, the quietude of the household at the Jemseg was disturbed by the appearance of the Massachusetts military expedition under Hawthorne and Church.

"We heard of them," says Gyles, "some time before they came up the river by the guard that Governor Villebon had ordered at the river's mouth. Monsieur the gentleman whom I lived with was gone to France, and Madam advised with me; she then desired me to nail a paper on the door of our house containing as follows:—

'I intreat the General of the English not to burn my House or Barn, nor destroy my Cattle. I don't suppose that such an army comes up this River to destroy a few Inhabitants but for the Fort above us. I have shewn kindness to the English captives as we were capacitated and have bought two Captives of the Indians and sent them to Boston, and have one now with us and he shall go also when a convenient opportunity presents and he desires it.'

"This done, Madam said to me, 'Little English; we have shewn you kindness and now it lies in your power to serve or disserve us, as you know where our goods are hid in the woods and that Monsieur is not at home. I could have sent you to the Fort and put you under confinement, but my respect for you and assurance of your love to us have disposed me to confide in you, persuaded that you will not hurt us nor our affairs. And now if you will not run away to the English, who are coming up the river, but serve our interest I will acquaint Monsieur of it at his return from France which will be very pleasing to him; and I now give my word that you shall have liberty to go to Boston on the first opportunity, if you desire it, or that any other favor in my power shall not be deny'd you.'

"I replied:—'Madam, it is contrary to the nature of the English to requite evil for good. I shall endeavor to serve you and your interest. I shall not run to the English; but if I am taken by them shall willingly go with them and yet endeavor not to disserve you either in your persons or goods.'

"This said we embarked and went in a large boat and canoe two or three miles up an eastern branch of the river that comes from a large pond [Grand Lake] and in the evening sent down four hands to make discovery; and while they were sitting in the house the English surrounded it and took one of the four; the other three made their escape in the dark through the English soldiers and came to us and gave a surprising account of affairs.

"Again Madam said to me, 'Little English, now you can go from us, but I hope you will remember your word!' I said, 'Madam, be not concerned, for I will not leave you in this strait.' She said 'I know not what to do with my two poor little Babes.' I said 'Madam, the sooner we embark and go over the great Pond the better.' Accordingly we embarked and went over the Pond.

"The next day we spake with Indians, who were in a canoe and gave us an account that Chignecto-town was taken and burnt. Soon after we heard the great guns at Governor Villebon's fort, which the English engaged several days, killed one man, and drew off and went down the river; for it was so late in the fall that had they tarried a few days longer in the river, they would have been frozen in for the winter.

"Hearing no report of the great guns for several days, I, with two others, went down to our house to make discovery, where we found our young lad who was taken by the English when they went up the river; for the general was so honorable that, on reading the note on our door, he ordered that the house and barn should not be burnt nor their cattle or other creatures killed, except one or two, and the poultry for their use, and at their return ordered the young lad to be put ashore.

"Finding things in this posture, we returned and gave Madam an account. She acknowledged the many favors which the English had shown, with gratitude, and treated me with great civility. The next spring Monsieur arrived from France in the man-of-war, who thanked me for my care of his affairs, and said that he would endeavor to fulfil what Madam had promised me."

At the expiration of another year, peace having been proclaimed, a sloop came to Menagoueche with ransom for one Michael Coombs, and Gyles at once reminded the Sieur de Chauffours of his promise. That gentleman advised him to remain, offering to do for him as if he were his own child, but Gyles' heart was set upon going to Boston, hoping to find some of his relations yet alive. His master then advised him to go up to the fort and take leave of the Governor, which he did, and says the Sieur de Villebon spoke very kindly to him. Some days after he took an affecting leave of Madame d'Amours and his master went down to the mouth of the river with him to see him on board. A few days afterwards he arrived safely in Boston and was welcomed by his relatives as one risen from the dead.



After Villebon's death his successor, de Brouillan, dismantled Fort Nachouac and the fort at the mouth of the St. John river and transferred the garrisons to Port Royal. The French families living on the river soon followed, as they found themselves without protection and did not care to remain in a situation so exposed. The houses abandoned by these settlers had been built upon the interval lands on the east side of the river between the Nashwaak and the Jemseg. The soil was very fertile, entirely free from rock or stone and little incumbered by forest. But the situation had its disadvantages—as it has still. In the spring of the year 1701 the settlers had a most unhappy experience in consequence of an extraordinarily high freshet. This event increased Brouillan's aversion to the St. John, and he writes:

"The river is altogether impracticable for habitations, the little the people had there being destroyed this year by the freshets (inondations) which have carried off houses, cattle and grain. There is no probability that any families will desire to expose themselves hereafter to a thing so vexatious and so common on that river. Monsieur De Chauffours, who used to be the mainstay of the inhabitants and the savages, has been forced to abandon it and to withdraw to Port Royal, but he has no way to make a living there for his family, and he will unhappily be forced to seek some other retreat if the Court pays no consideration to the services which he represents in his petition, and does not grant him some position in order to retain him in this colony."

The next year France and England were again at war and in the course of the conflict the fortunes of the d'Amours in Acadia were involved in utter ruin. The gentle spirit of Marguerite Guyon d'Amours did not survive the struggle, and with the close of the century she passed from the scene of her trials. Louis d'Amours, while serving his country in arms, was taken by the English, and for more than two years remained a prisoner in Boston. His brother, the Sieur de Clignancourt, served in various expeditions against the New Englanders and for several years is heard of in connection with military affairs. Eventually most of the surviving members of the d'Amours family removed from Acadia leaving behind them no abiding record of their sojourn on the St. John river.

Two of the daughters of Louis d'Amours were married at Port Royal while very young. Perhaps they possessed their mother's winsome manners, perhaps, also the scarcity of marriageable girls in Acadia may have had something to do with the matter; at any rate Charlotte d'Amours was but seventeen years of age when she married the young baron, Anselm de St. Castin. Their wedding took place at Port Royal in October, 1707, just two months after young St. Castin had greatly distinguished himself in the heroic and successful defense of Port Royal against an expedition from New England.[14] The event no doubt caused a flutter of excitement in the then limited society of Port Royal. The officiating priest was Father Antoine Gaulin, of the Seminary of Quebec, at which institution the young baron had finished his studies only three years before. Among the witnesses of the marriage were the Chevalier de Subercase, governor of Acadia; Bonaventure, who had for some years rendered signal service as commander of the "Envieux" and other warships; Mon. de la Boularderie, a French officer who had been wounded in the recent siege, and the bride's farther, Louis d'Amours—who, signs his name D'Amour D'Echofour.

[14] The mortification of the Bostonians at the failure of this expedition was extreme. So confident of success were they that preparations were made for a public rejoicing on the anticipated capture of Port Royal. The young baron St. Castin was wounded in the defence of Port Royal. His conduct in leading the defenders on several critical occasions was characterized by such dash and intrepidity that Governor Subercase in describing the siege wrote to the French minister at Versailles that if it had not been for the presence of the Baron St. Castin he knew not what would have been the result. See Murdoch's Hist. Nova Scotia, vol. I., p. 289.

A few years later the Marquis de Vaudreuil entrusted to St. Castin the command of Acadia. After the treaty of Utrecht he retired to his ancestral residence on the banks of the Penobscot, where he lived on amicable terms with the English and kept the Penobscot Indians from making encroachments on their neighbors. His sister, Ursule de St. Castin, married his wife's brother, a son of Louis d'Amours, a circumstance of interest not only as being a double marriage between the families of St. Castin and d'Amours, but also from the fact that the familiar titles of the d'Amours family seem to have been retained in this, the oldest branch of their family. In proof of this fact, the distinguished Acadian genealogist, Placid P. Gaudet, has shown that among the Acadians residing at the Islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon in 1767 (according to the census of that year), were Ursule de St. Castin, widow of the only son of Louis d'Amours, then 71 year of age, who resided with her son Joseph d'Amours, deChauffour, and his family. Joseph d'Amours was at that time 49 years of age, and his wife, Genevieve Roy, 44 years of age. They had seven children and the oldest sons were Joseph d'Amours, aged 19 years; Paul d'Amours de Freneuse, aged 16 years, and Louis d'Amours de Clignancourt, aged 13 years. As the father himself retained the title of de Chauffours it is evident that on his decease it would fall to his oldest son, Joseph.

Marie d'Amours, sister of the young Baroness de St. Castin, married Pierre de Morpain, the commander of a privateer of St. Domingo. It chanced that he had just brought a ship load of provisions to Port Royal when it was attacked in 1707, and he was able to render good service in its defence. Two years afterwards he was again at Port Royal and in the course of a ten days' cruise took nine prizes and destroyed four more vessels. Being attacked by a coast-guard ship of Boston a furious engagement ensued in which the English captain was killed with one hundred of his men and his vessel made a prize and taken to Port Royal. The commander, Subercase, highly commended Morpain's bravery and persuaded him to remain at Port Royal where, on August 13, 1709, he married Marie d'Amours de Chauffours.

Louis d'Amours, Sieur de Chauffours, returned to Port Royal in 1706 after a two years captivity at Boston. On the 17th January, 1708, only a few weeks after the marriage of his daughter to St. Castin, he took to himself a wife in the person of Anne Comeau. The marriage was witnessed by Governor Subercase and other officials at Port Royal, also by his daughter Charlotte and her husband, the Baron de St. Castin, and by the widow of his brother the Sieur de Freneuse. It seems probable that his health had suffered through his long imprisonment, for very shortly after his second marriage he was stricken with an illness which proved fatal. The Recollet missionary, Justinien Durad, records in his parish register the burial in the cemetery of St. Jean Baptiste at Port Royal on May 19, 1708, of "Louis d'Amour d'Echauffour, aged not far from sixty years [should be 54 years], after an illness of three months, during which he received the sacraments with great edification." And this brings us to the last incident in the romantic story of the brothers d'Amours.



CHAPTER VIII.

THE OLD MEDOCTEC FORT.

Twelve miles below the town of Woodstock there enters the River St. John, from the westward, a good sized tributary known as Eel River. It is a variable stream, flowing in the upper reaches with feeble current, over sandy shallows, with here and there deep pools, and at certain seasons almost lake-like expansions over adjoining swamps, but in the last twelve miles of its course it is transformed into a turbulent stream, broken by rapids and falls to such an extent that only at the freshet season is it possible to descend in canoes. The Indian name of Eel River is "Madawamkeetook," signifying "rocky at its mouth."



The Medoctec Fort stood on the west bank of the St. John four miles above the mouth of Eel River. It guarded the eastern extremity of the famous portage, five miles in length, by which canoes were carried in order to avoid the rapids that obstruct the lower part of Eel River. The rivers were nature's highway for the aboriginal inhabitants and a glance at the map will show that Madawamkeetook, or Eel River, formed a very important link in the chain of communication with the western portion of ancient Acadie by means of the inland waters.

In early days the three principal villages of the Maliseets were Medoctec on the St. John, Panagamsde on the Penobscot and Narantsouak on the Kennebec. In travelling from Medoctec to the westward the Indians passed from the lakes at the head of Eel River, by a short portage, to the chain of lakes at the head of the St. Croix from which there was communication by another short portage with the Mattawamkeag, an eastern branch of the Penobscot. In the course of the stirring events of the war-period in Acadia the Indian braves and their French allies made constant use of this route, and the Medoctec village became a natural rendezvous whenever anything of a warlike nature was afoot on the St. John. But Medoctec possessed many local advantages; the hunting in the vicinity was excellent, the rivers abounded in salmon, sturgeon, bass, trout and other fish, and the intervals were admirably adapted to the growth of Indian corn—which seems to have been raised there from time immemorial.

The reader by examining the accompanying plan will have a better idea of the situation of the old fort.

The site of this ancient Maliseet town is a fine plateau extending back from the river about fifty rods, then descending to a lower interval, twenty rods wide, and again rising quite abruptly sixty or seventy feet to the upland. The spring freshet usually covers the lower interval and the elevated plateau then becomes an island. The spot is an exceedingly interesting one, but, unfortunately for the investigator, the soil has been so well cultivated by the hands of thrifty farmers that little remains to indicate the outlines of the old fortifications. It is impossible to determine with absolute certainty the position of the stockade, or of the large wigwam, or council chamber, and other features commonly found in Indian towns of that period. The only place where the old breast-work is visible is along the south and east sides of the burial ground, where it is about two feet high. The burial ground has never been disturbed with the plough, the owners of the property having shown a proper regard for the spot as the resting place of the dead. It is, however, so thickly overgrown with hawthorn as to be a perfect jungle difficult to penetrate. Many holes have been dug there by relic hunters and seekers of buried treasure.

At the spot marked A* on the plan, between the grave-yard and the river, there is a mass of ashes and cinders with numberless bones scattered about. This is believed to be the site of the old council fire. Here the visitor will find himself in touch with the events of savage life of centuries ago. Here it was Governor Villebon harangued his dusky allies; here the horrible dog feast was held and the hatchet brandished by the warriors on the eve of their departure to deluge with blood the homes of New England; here at the stake the luckless captive yielded up his life and chanted his death-song; here the Sieur de Clignancourt bargained with the Indians, receiving their furs and peltry and giving in exchange French goods and trinkets, rum and brandy; here good Father Simon taught the savages the elements of the Christian faith and tamed as best he could the fierceness of their manners; here too when weary of fighting the hatchet was buried and the council fire glowed its brightest as the chiefs smoked their calumet of peace.

Some have supposed the old Medoctec fort to have been quite an elaborate structure, with bastions, etc., but it was more probably only a rude Indian fortification with ditch and parapet surmounted by a stockade, within which was a strongly built cabin, in size about thirty by forty feet. Parkman in his "Jesuits in North America," gives a good description of similar forts built by the Hurons and other tribes of Canada. The labor originally involved in the erection of the palisade must have been very great, and nothing but stern necessity is likely to have driven so naturally improvident a people to undertake it. The stout stakes were cut, pointed and firmly planted with no better implement than the stone axe of prehistoric times.

In the lower right hand corner of the plan will be found the spring referred to in the opening chapter[15] as the scene of the ludicrous Mohawk scare. Its distance from the old fort is about half a mile, and the situation and surroundings correspond so exactly with Gyles' description that there is not the slightest doubt as to its identity. The water that flows from it never fails and is very clear and cool.

[15] See page 13.

At the back of the lower interval is a curious gully, something like a broad natural roadway, which affords an easy ascent to the upland. This no doubt was the commencement of the famous portage by which bands of savages in ancient days took their way westward to devastate the settlements of eastern New England.

The small stream which enters the St. John a little above the old village site is known as Hay's Creek, but in some of the early maps and land grants is called "Meductic river." About a mile from its mouth there is a very beautiful cascade; the volume of water is not large but the height of the fall, 95 feet perpendicular, is remarkable, surpassing by at least ten feet the Grand Falls of the River St. John.

Our knowledge of the village Medoctec, and the ways of its people two centuries ago, is derived mainly from the narrative of John Gyles, the English lad who was captured at Pemaquid in 1689 and brought by his Indian master to the River St. John. At the time of his capture Gyles was a boy of about twelve years of age. He seems to have met with kindly treatment from his master though not from all the Indians. His first rude experience was at Penobscot fort where upon the arrival of the captives, some fifty in number, the squaws got together in a circle dancing and yelling, as was their custom on such occasions. Gyles says, "An old grimace squaw took me by the hand and leading me into the ring, some seized me by my hair and others by my feet, like so many furies; but, my master laying down a pledge, they released me. A captive among the Indians is exposed to all manner of abuses and to the extremest tortures, unless their master, or some of their master's relatives lay down a ransom, such as a bag of corn, a blanket, or the like, which redeems them from their cruelty for that dance."

After a long and wearisome journey the little captive at length neared his destination, the canoes were paddling down the Madawamkeetook (or Eel) river. When they reached the rapids they landed, and we shall let Gyles tell in his own words the story of the last stage of his journey and of his reception at Medoctec. He says: "We carried over a long carrying place to Medoctock Fort, which stands on a bank of St. John's river. My Indian master went before and left me with an old Indian and three squaws. The old man often said (which was all the English he could speak), 'By and by come to a great Town and Fort.' So I comforted myself in thinking how finely I should be refreshed when I came to this great town.

"After some miles travel we came in sight of a large Corn-field and soon after of the Fort, to my great surprise; for two or three squaws met us, took off my pack, and led me to a large hut or wigwam, where thirty or forty Indians were dancing and yelling round five or six poor captives. * * I was whirled in among them and we looked at each other with a sorrowful countenance; and presently one of them was seized by each hand and foot by four Indians, who swung him up and let his back with force fall on the hard ground, till they had danced (as they call it) round the whole wigwam, which was thirty or forty feet in length. * *

"The Indians looked on me with a fierce countenance, as much as to say it will be your turn next. They champed cornstalks, which they threw into my hat as I held it in my hand. I smiled on them though my heart ached. I looked on one and another, but could not perceive that any eye pitied me. Presently came a squaw and a little girl and laid down a bag of corn in the ring. The little girl took me by the hand, making signs for me to come out of the circle with them. Not knowing their custom, I supposed they designed to kill me and refused to go. Then a grave Indian came and gave me a pipe and said in English, 'Smoke it,' then he took me by the hand and led me out. My heart ached, thinking myself near my end. But he carried me to a French hut about a mile from the Indian Fort. The Frenchman was not at home, but his wife, who was a squaw, had some discourse with my Indian friend, which I did not understand. We tarried there about two hours, then returned to the Indian village, where they gave me some victuals. Not long after I saw one of my fellow-captives who gave me a melancholy account of their sufferings after I left them.

"After some weeks had passed," Gyles continues, "we left this village and went up St. John's river about ten miles to a branch called Medockscenecasis, where there was one wigwam. At our arrival an old squaw saluted me with a yell, taking me by the hair and one hand, but I was so rude as to break her hold and free myself. She gave me a filthy grin, and the Indians set up a laugh and so it passed over. Here we lived on fish, wild grapes, roots, etc., which was hard living for me."