"All, all, are lost! In vain our warriors, led by Tuscarora, fought to
the last. One after another they were shot down by the bullets of the
white faces, or cut to pieces by the war hatchets of the hated Tuparas.
Our French allies, deserting the fort, fought their way to their boats,
and, embarking, fled to their ships, leaving us to our fate. Two only
with myself escaped by leaping over the walls, and swimming to a canoe
floating by. Both of my companions were wounded. As we were paddling
on, as fast as our strength would allow, we caught sight of a canoe with
two Portuguese boats in pursuit. We were unobserved, but we had too
much reason to fear that the canoe was overtaken. Just as we reached
the shore, the paddles dropped from the hands of my two companions, and
they sank down from loss of blood. When I called to them, they gave no
answer. They were both dead. I waited in vain for the arrival of our
friends, but none appeared, and I at length came on to bring the sad
tidings."
As the wounded warrior finished his narrative, loud wailings rose from
the women in the camp. No threats of vengeance were uttered, for they
felt their utter helplessness, and they knew that they themselves might
become the prey of any of their foes who might be induced to attack
them. At length an old man arose in their midst.
"Give not way to despair, my daughters," he exclaimed; "you have still
many sons. We will fly with them to a place of safety, and there teach
them how their brave fathers fought and died with their faces to the
foe. They will grow up, and, hearing of their deeds, will imitate their
valour, and revenge the deaths of their sires."
The words of the aged warrior restored the drooping courage of the poor
women, and they resolved to follow his counsel. A few men, who from
sickness or other causes had not gone forth to battle, and the youths
who had not sufficient strength to draw their mighty bows, vowed to
defend them and the chief's daughter to the last gasp. Cora deputed the
old warrior to take the lead, and, as they believed the Tuparas, flushed
with victory, would ere long pursue them, they immediately set out on
their sad journey to the north.
Surrounding Nigel and Constance, they vowed fidelity, promising to obey
the last behests of their beloved young chief Tecumah, and to afford
them all the support in their power. A small band only of the bravest
and most active remained behind to collect any stragglers who might
arrive, and to cover the retreat of the main body. Nigel, communicating
with the old chief, found that he proposed proceeding northward to a
region bordering the sea, inhabited by a scanty tribe, with whom the
Tamoyos were on friendly terms, the former having been driven from their
own hunting-grounds by a more powerful tribe. This intelligence was
satisfactory to Nigel and Constance, as they thus had hopes of being
able to communicate with some English or French ship which might appear
off the shore.
The spot to which the Tamoyos were directing their course was at length
gained. It was a deep wide valley, surrounded by rugged hills, and
could not be approached towards the sea except by a narrow gorge, which
could be defended by a few brave men, who could lie concealed among the
rocks, and hurl down stones on the heads of invaders. The Indians
carried with them, as was their custom, cuttings and roots of fruit
trees and plants, which they had cultivated in their native district.
Without loss of time, they began erecting huts and laying out
plantations, the old men and women being generally employed in such
occupations, while the young men went out hunting, they having at
present to depend on the produce of the chase for their subsistence.
The tribe showed the greatest attention to Nigel and Constance, whom
they considered committed to their care by their beloved young chief,
doing their utmost to secure their comfort and convenience. Indeed,
they treated them with the same respect they bestowed on Cora, who was
now the acknowledged chieftainess of the tribe. They built a cottage
after the model of those they had seen on the island, and laid out a
garden, which they planted with fruit trees and vegetables. Nigel and
his wife in return, aided by Cora, instructed them in Gospel truth.
They also taught them, as far as they had the means, the arts of
civilised life. Thus the days went rapidly by. Still, though the young
couple enjoyed much happiness, they could not help wishing to return to
Europe, while they often thought, with grief, of the loss of the count
and of their other beloved friend.
Besides the account brought by the Indian who escaped from the fort,
they could gain no further tidings of their fate. Nigel would, had he
had himself only to consider, have set out to try and ascertain what had
become of the colony, but he could not bring himself to leave Constance,
even though he had full confidence in the fidelity of their Indian
friends. Cora, to whom Constance expressed Nigel's wishes, at length
promised to send out a scout, who would endeavour to find out what had
happened. Nigel gladly accepted Cora's offer.
Nearly a month had passed since the scout set out, and fears were
entertained that he had perished. At last, however, one evening, he was
seen descending the side of the hill, along the steep and difficult path
by which, as has been said, the valley could alone be reached from the
southward; he was accompanied by a white man, whose tottering steps he
supported in the difficult descent. As they approached the village, the
gaunt form and haggard features of the latter prevented Nigel, who went
out to meet them, from recognising him.
"You don't know me, Monsieur Lieutenant; I am Jacques Baville, whom you
knew well as a true Protestant. I assisted the escape of our good
minister, Laporte, who was committed to the care of some of the brave
Indians by the young chief Tecumah. We fought our way to the water's
side, and embarked in a canoe; but before we had got far, we were chased
by two of the enemy's boats, and captured. We expected instant death,
but were reserved for a more cruel fate. We were conveyed to the south
shore, where we heard that the forts on the island had all been
destroyed, and our countrymen, with the traitor Villegagnon, had sailed
away, leaving most of the Protestants to the cruel vengeance of our
foes. To commemorate their victory, the Portuguese had resolved, we
found, on building a city. One of the first edifices erected was a
prison, into which the good minister and several other persons were
thrown; while the Tamoyos, who had been taken prisoners, with two other
artisans, like myself, were employed, with many people of other tribes,
who had been reduced to slavery by the Portuguese, in labouring at the
work going forward. A church was next built, and filled full of idols
for the people to worship. As soon as it was finished, the minister and
other captives were led from the prison, and dragged into it, when they
were ordered to worship, as the other people were doing. They refused,
however, to how their heads to the saints, or other false gods, but
stood motionless, with their arms folded. The priests, on this, reviled
them, and threatened them with death if they refused. Still they were
firm, declaring that they would not mock God with such senseless
ceremonies. On this they were taken back to prison; and we, seeing how
they behaved, resolved to imitate them. Several times they were carried
before the priests, who sat in the church to try them for what was
called their heresy. The trial was still going on when two priests
arrived, who declared they had been on board a Portuguese ship, bringing
over numerous images and relics and indulgences to Saint Vincente, when
she was captured by a French man-of-war, the captain of which had
sacrilegiously thrown them into the sea. I, of course, knew that they
spoke of the _Madeline_; and, as you remember, Monsieur Lieutenant, I
was on board, I began to fear that I might be recognised. Monsieur
Laporte, of course, stated that he was not there, and could, therefore,
not be considered guilty of the act of which they complained, supposing
that it had taken place. The priests, however, who were eager to find
some one on whom to wreak their vengeance, declared that it mattered
nothing, even had he not been there, as the act was performed by those
of his faith, and was the result of the pernicious doctrines he taught.
He defended himself nobly, but was condemned to be burnt alive in the
centre of a wide spot, which had been marked out for a square.
"Hoping that I had not been recognised by the priests, I was making my
way out of the church, when the keen eyes of one of them fell on me. He
instantly ordered me to be seized, and at once declared that he had seen
me on board the _Madeline_, engaged in throwing the trumpery overboard.
I would not deny this, but said that I was but doing my duty, and
obeying my captain, and that, had he ordered me to throw the two priests
themselves overboard, to look after their saints, I should certainly
have done so. This enraged them more than ever, and they threatened to
burn me with the minister. As I was, however, known to be a good
carpenter, the civil officers were not willing to lose my services, and
I was sent back to prison.
"In vain they tried to make the good minister recant. He refused to do
so. They promised him his life and full pardon, and a good post under
government, but he refused all their offers, saying that he would rather
die a hundred deaths than abandon the faith of the pure gospel. The
next day he was led to the place of execution. We were compelled to be
present. The faggots were piled round him. Some of the people, moved
with pity, cried out that he should be strangled first, and the
executioner himself seemed unwilling to light the pile; when one of the
priests, seizing the torch, set fire to the faggots, which quickly
blazed up, and our good minister's soul went to that happy home prepared
for him. The priests, having caught sight of me, insisted that I should
be thrown into prison to await their pleasure, which I knew very well
would be ere long to burn me at the stake.
"Some of our countrymen, I am sorry to say, recanted, and were set free,
but others held fast. I determined, however, if I could, to make my
escape, should I have strength enough to do so; for we were so poorly
fed that I expected, before long, to be starved. All the prisoners had
hitherto been confined in a common cell; but after I was condemned, I
was placed in one by myself. It was in a new part of the prison, which
I had actually been employed in building. The whole structure was of
wood, though, at the same time, very strong. I knew that I could not
make my way through the walls, nor underground, as the stakes were
driven down deep, and no human strength could force them up; but I
recollected the way I had put on the roof; and, though the slabs were
heavy, I was certain that I could force one of them up sufficiently to
allow me to get through. I had not been long shut up, when a priest
came, and endeavoured to make me recant, picturing the horrible tortures
I should suffer in this world, and in the next, if I refused. I asked
him whence he got his authority. He answered from the Church. I
replied that the Bible was before the Church; and that the Bible says,
`Whosoever believeth on Me shall not perish, but have everlasting life;'
and that, though he might burn my body, Christ could save my soul. He
replied that the Bible must not be interpreted by laymen, and that the
Church had alone the power to explain it. I observed that the Church of
Christ had ever explained it exactly as I did, and to that Church I
belonged; that the system which he called `The Church,' was built up at
Rome by pagan priests, and had ever since been employed in adding
falsehood to falsehood, for the sake of imposing on the minds of the
people, and compelling them to do their will; and that, if he wished to
serve Christ, he must leave his false church, as thousands of my
countrymen had done, and tens of thousands in Germany and England, or
that he himself would perish eternally. Without saying another word, he
left the cell, and I felt pretty sure would not come back again.
"I had a sheath knife, which I had managed to conceal inside my
trousers, and immediately set to work, and wrenched up a stool fixed
against the wall. There were several nails in it, which I cut out; and
then, making a couple of deep notches in one of the angles of the wall,
I fixed the bench a certain height below the roof, which enabled me, by
standing on it, to force up one of the slabs with my back. Knowing
where the nails were driven in, I carefully cut around them, making as
little noise as possible. It was, I calculated, about midnight when I
had finished my preparations. The slab lifted even more easily than I
had expected. I listened for some minutes, expecting to hear the tread
of a sentry, but not a sound reached my ears. I had great hopes that he
had fallen asleep. Creeping through, I replaced the slab, and dropped
without noise to the ground. There were numerous Indians in the camp,
many of whom had canoes, for the purpose of fishing. Without loss of
time, I crept away, stooping low down, so that, had I been seen, I might
be mistaken, in the darkness, for a large dog, or some wild animal
prowling about in search of food. I thus, without interruption, made my
way down to the shore. There were several canoes hauled up, as I had
expected, with paddles left in them. To launch one and to shove off did
not occupy much time. The night was dark, but I could make out the
opposite shore. With all my might I paddled towards it. On landing, I
shoved off the canoe, in the hopes that it would float away, and thus
not betray the direction I had taken. Scarcely had I got a hundred
yards from the beach, when I encountered this my friend, who conducted
me here. I am grieved to bring such tidings, and I fear much that those
who remain will be put to death, if they refuse to abandon their faith;
and I pray that they may have grace and spirit to continue in it. But I
myself must not boast, as I know not what torture and starvation would
have led me to do."
Nigel and Constance heard, with deep sorrow, this account of the
martyrdom of their beloved friend and minister; but they were comforted
with the knowledge that he had exchanged a life of trial and suffering
for a glorious existence in heaven.
Several months passed by. Jacques Baville completely recovered, and was
of great assistance in improving their cottage home. He felt, however,
even a greater longing than they did to return to his native land.
"Ships may come and go, and we may not see them, unless we are
constantly on the watch," he observed. "I have bethought me of building
a hut on the height near the shore; and if you, Monsieur Lieutenant,
will supply me with food, I will undertake to keep a bright look-out as
long as my eyes last me. We will have a flagstaff and flag, and it will
not be my fault if we don't manage to communicate with any ship which
appears off the coast."
Nigel gladly entered into honest Jacques's plan, and assisted him in
building his hut, and putting up a flagstaff. Still week after week
passed by, and Jacques had always the same answer to give when Nigel
visited him. Nigel himself had ample occupation in cultivating his
garden, varied by hunting expeditions with the Indians. He was
returning home one evening, when, as he approached his cottage,
Constance came running out to meet him. Her agitation would scarcely
allow her to speak.
"Come, Nigel, come! I have been longing for your arrival," she
exclaimed, taking his hand. "An old friend has arrived, and is waiting
to see you."
She led him on, when great was his joy and surprise to see standing in
the porch, with outstretched hands, his former commander, Captain
Beauport. They entered the cottage, when, sitting down, the captain
briefly narrated his history, and the circumstances which had brought
him again to the coast of South America. He little expected to find
Nigel and Constance alive. The crew and passengers of the ship which
was conveying him as a prisoner to France, who were all Protestants, had
insisted on his liberation; and the commander, who was well-disposed
towards him, had, without much difficulty, yielded to their wishes. By
great exertions the ships had been kept afloat; and, after enduring
severe hardships, had reached Hennebonne, in France. Here the
commander, as directed, delivered his despatches to the chief
magistrate, who, providentially for the passengers, was a staunch
Protestant. On opening them, he found that the traitor, Villegagnon,
had denounced them as arch-heretics, worthy of the stake, and advised
that they should be immediately delivered up to punishment. The worthy
magistrate, indignant at the treachery with which they had been treated,
assisted them by every means in his power; while Captain Beauport,
knowing that his life would not be safe should he remain in France,
immediately embarked on board a vessel bound for England. He there
found many Protestant friends, who had fled to escape the fearful
persecutions to which they were subjected in France. By their means he
obtained the command of an English ship. He had made two or three short
voyages, and had, some time before, come out on an exploring expedition
to South America, from which he was returning. He was sailing
northward, on his way to England, when he observed Jacques Baville's
signal.
As may be supposed, Nigel and Constance, with honest Jacques, did not
lose the opportunity of returning with him. They parted from Cora with
sincere regret.
"It is but natural that you should wish to dwell in your own country,
and among your own people," said the Indian girl. "My love makes me
wish to accompany you, but my duty compels me to remain with my tribe.
On our hearts your images will remain engraved as long as they beat with
life."
She, with all her people, attended them to the beach, as they put off
towards the ship, which lay at anchor in the harbour. As long as any
object was visible on the shore, Cora was seen waving her adieus. The
sails were spread to the wind, and the ship glided out into the ocean on
her destined course towards the shores of England.
They reached that land of freedom in safety, and Nigel resolved to take
up his residence here, with his young wife, rather than expose her to
the dangers to which she would be subjected in her native land. He
wrote to honest Maitre Leroux, who had heard from the count of
Constance's marriage, and was ready to pay over to Nigel the rents of
the estate.
During the occasional intervals of peace, Nigel paid several visits to
Tourville, and, on the death of the steward, sold the estate, and
invested the money in an English property, both he and his wife agreeing
that it was far better to live on moderate means in a land where they
could enjoy the blessings of civil and religious liberty, than in any
country under the galling yoke of Papal tyranny.