We were five altogether--Mr. Stevens, Clark, the two Boston
soldiers, and myself; and presently we came down the steep passage
in the cliff to where our craft lay, secured by my dear wife--a
birch canoe, well laden with necessaries. Our craft was none too
large for our party, but she must do; and safely in, we pushed out
upon the current, which was in our favour, for the tide was going
out. My object was to cross the river softly, skirt the Levis
shore, pass the Isle of Orleans, and so steal down the river.
There was excitement in the town, as we could tell from the lights
flashing along the shore, and boats soon began to patrol the banks,
going swiftly up and down, and extending a line round to the St.
Charles River towards Beauport.
It was well for us the night was dark, else we had run that
gantlet. But we were lucky enough, by hard paddling, to get past
the town on the Levis side. Never were better boatmen. The paddles
dropped with agreeable precision, and no boatswain's rattan was
needed to keep my fellows to their task. I, whose sight was long
trained to darkness, could see a great distance round us, and so
could prevent a trap, though once or twice we let our canoe drift
with the tide, lest our paddles should be heard. I could not paddle
long, I had so little strength. After the Isle of Orleans was
passed, I drew a breath of relief, and played the part of captain
and boatswain merely.
Yet when I looked back at the town on those strong heights, and saw
the bonfires burn to warn the settlers of our escape, saw the lights
sparkling in many homes, and even fancied I could make out the
light shining in my dear wife's window, I had a strange feeling of
loneliness. There in the shadow of my prison walls, was the dearest
thing on earth to me. Ought she not to be with me? She had begged to
come, to share with me these dangers and hardships; but that I could
not, would not grant. She would be safer with her people. As for us
desperate men bent on escape, we must face hourly peril.
Thank God, there was work to do. Hour after hour the swing and
dip of the paddles went on. No one showed weariness, and when the
dawn broke slow and soft over the eastern hills, I motioned my good
boatmen towards the shore, and landed safely. We lifted our frigate
up, and carried her into a thicket, there to rest with us till
night, when we would sally forth again into the friendly darkness.
We were in no distress all that day, for the weather was fine, and
we had enough to eat; and in such case were we for ten days and
nights, though indeed some of the nights were dreary and very cold,
for it was yet but the beginning of May.
It might thus seem that we were leaving danger well behind,
after having travelled so many heavy leagues, but it was yet
several hundred miles to Louisburg, our destination; and we had
escaped only immediate danger. We passed Isle aux Coudres and the
Isles of Kamaraska, and now we ventured by day to ramble the woods
in search of game, which was most plentiful. In this good outdoor
life my health came slowly back, and I should soon be able to bear
equal tasks with any of my faithful comrades. Never man led better
friends, though I have seen adventurous service near and far since
that time. Even the genial ruffian Clark was amenable, and took
sharp reprimand without revolt.
On the eleventh night after our escape, our first real trial
came. We were keeping the middle of the great river, as safest from
detection, and when the tide was with us we could thus move more
rapidly. We had had a constant favouring wind, but now suddenly,
though we were running with the tide, the wind turned easterly, and
blew up the river against the ebb. Soon it became a gale, to which
was added snow and sleet, and a rough, choppy sea followed.
I saw it would be no easy task to fetch our craft to the land.
The waves broke in upon us, and presently, while half of us were
paddling with laboured and desperate stroke, the other half were
bailing. Lifted on a crest, our canoe, heavily laden, dropped at
both ends; and again, sinking into the hollows between the short,
brutal waves, her gunwales yielded outward, and her waist gaped
in a dismal way. We looked to see her with a broken back at any
moment. To add to our ill fortune, a violent current set in from
the shore, and it was vain to attempt a landing. Spirits and bodies
flagged, and it needed all my cheerfulness to keep my good fellows
to their tasks.
At last, the ebb of tide being almost spent, the waves began to
fall, the wind shifted a little to the northward, and a piercing
cold instantly froze our drenched clothes on our backs. But with
the current changed there was a good chance of reaching the shore.
As daylight came we passed into a little sheltered cove, and sank
with exhaustion on the shore. Our frozen clothes rattled like tin,
and we could scarce lift a leg. But we gathered a fine heap of
wood, flint and steel were ready, and the tinder was sought; which,
when found, was soaking. Not a dry stitch or stick could we find
anywhere, till at last, within a leather belt, Mr. Stevens found a
handkerchief, which was, indeed, as he told me afterwards, the gift
and pledge of a lady to him; and his returning to her with out it
nearly lost him another and better gift and pledge, for this went
to light our fire. We had had enough danger and work in one night
to give us relish for some days of rest, and we piously took them.
The evening of the second day we set off again, and had a good
night's run, and in the dawn, spying a snug little bay, we stood
in, and went ashore. I sent my two Provincials foraging with their
guns, and we who remained set about to fix our camp for the day and
prepare breakfast. A few minutes only passed, and the two hunters
came running back with rueful faces to say they had seen two
Indians near, armed with muskets and knives. My plans were made at
once. We needed their muskets, and the Indians must pay the price
of their presence here, for our safety should be had at any cost.
I urged my men to utter no word at all, for none but Clark could
speak French, and he but poorly. For myself, my accent would pass
after these six years of practice. We came to a little river,
beyond which we could observe the Indians standing on guard. We
could only cross by wading, which we did; but one of my Provincials
came down, wetting his musket and himself thoroughly. Reaching the
shore, we marched together, I singing the refrain of an old French
song as we went,
En roulant, ma boule roulant,
En roulant, ma boule
so attracting the attention of the Indians. The better to deceive,
we all were now dressed in the costume of the French peasant--I had
taken pains to have Mr. Stevens secure these for us before starting;
a pair of homespun trousers, a coarse brown jacket, with thrums like
waving tassels, a silk handkerchief about the neck, and a strong
thick worsted wig on the head; no smart toupet, nor buckle; nor
combed, nor powdered; and all crowned by a dull black cap. I myself
was, as became my purpose, most like a small captain of militia,
doing wood service, and in the braver costume of the coureur de bois.
I signalled to the Indians, and, coming near, addressed them in
French. They were deceived, and presently, abreast of them, in the
midst of apparent ceremony, their firelocks were seized, and Mr.
Stevens and Clark had them safe. I said we must be satisfied as
to who they were, for English prisoners escaped from Quebec were
abroad, and no man could go unchallenged. They must at once lead me
to their camp. So they did, and at their bark wigwam they said they
had seen no Englishman. They were guardians of the fire; that is,
it was their duty to light a fire on the shore when a hostile fleet
should appear; and from another point farther up, other guardians,
seeing, would do the same, until beacons would be shining even to
Quebec, three hundred leagues away.
While I was questioning them, Clark rifled the wigwam; and
presently, the excitable fellow, finding some excellent stores of
skins, tea, maple sugar, coffee, and other things, broke out into
English expletives. Instantly the Indians saw they had been
trapped, and he whom Mr. Stevens held made a great spring from him,
caught up a gun, and gave a wild yell which echoed far and near.
Mr. Stevens, with great rapidity, leveled his pistol and shot him
in the heart, while I, in a close struggle with my captive, was
glad--for I was not yet strong--that Clark finished my assailant:
and so both lay there dead, two foes less of our good King.
Not far from where we stood was a pool of water, black and deep,
and we sank the bodies there; but I did not know till long
afterwards that Clark, with a barbarous and disgusting spirit,
carried away their scalps to sell them in New York, where they
would bring, as he confided to one of the Provincials, twelve
pounds each. Before we left, we shot a poor howling dog that
mourned for his masters, and sank him also in the dark pool.
We had but got back to our camp, when, looking out, we saw a
well-manned four-oared boat making for the shore. My men were in
dismay until I told them that, having begun the game of war, I
would carry it on to the ripe end. This boat and all therein should
be mine. Safely hidden, we watched the rowers draw in to shore,
with brisk strokes, singing a quaint farewell song of the
voyageurs, called La Pauvre Mere, of which the refrain is:
"And his mother says, 'My dear,
For your absence I shall grieve;
Come you home within the year.'"
They had evidently been upon a long voyage, and by their toiling
we could see their boat was deep loaded; but they drove on, like a
horse that, at the close of day, sees ahead the inn where he is to
bait and refresh, and, rousing to the spur, comes cheerily home.
The figure of a reverend old man was in the stern, and he sent
them in to shore with brisk words. Bump came the big shallop on
the beach, and at that moment I ordered my men to fire, but to
aim wide, for I had another end in view than killing.
We were exactly matched as to numbers, so that a fight would be
fair enough, but I hoped for peaceful conquest. As we fired I
stepped out of the thicket, and behind me could be seen the shining
barrels of our threatening muskets. The old gentleman stood up
while his men cried for quarter. He waved them down with an
impatient gesture, and stepped out on the beach. Then I recognized
him. It was the Chevalier de la Darante. I stepped towards him, my
sword drawn.
"Monsieur the Chevalier de la Darante, you are my prisoner," said I.
He started, then recognized me. "Now, by the blood of man! now,
by the blood of man!" he said, and paused, dumfounded.
"You forget me, monsieur?" asked I.
"Forget you, monsieur?" said he. "As soon forget the devil at
mass! But I thought you dead by now, and--"
"If you are disappointed," said I, "there is a way"; and I waved
towards his men, then to Mr. Stevens and my own ambushed fellows.
He smiled an acid smile, and took a pinch of snuff. "It is not
so fiery-edged as that," he answered; "I can endure it."
"You shall have time too for reverie," answered I.
He looked puzzled. "What is't you wish?" he asked.
"Your surrender first," said I, "and then your company at
breakfast."
"The latter has meaning and compliment," he responded, "the former
is beyond me. What would you do with me?"
"Detain you and your shallop for the services of my master, the
King of England, soon to be the master of your master, if the signs
are right."
"All signs fail with the blind, monsieur."
"I will give you good reading of those
signs in due course," retorted I.
"Monsieur," he added, with great, almost too great dignity, "I am
of the family of the Duc de Mirepoix. The whole Kamaraska Isles are
mine, and the best gentlemen in this province do me vassalage. I
make war on none, I have stepped aside from all affairs of state, I
am a simple gentleman. I have been a great way down this river, at
large expense and toil, to purchase wheat, for all the corn of
these counties goes to Quebec to store the King's magazine, the
adored La Friponne. I know not your purposes, but I trust you will
not push your advantage"--he waved towards our muskets--"against a
private gentleman."
"You forget, Chevalier," said I, "that you gave verdict for my
death."
"Upon the evidence," he replied. "And I have no doubt you
deserve hanging a thousand times."
I almost loved him for his boldness. I remembered also that he
had no wish to be one of my judges, and that he spoke for me in
the presence of the Governor. But he was not the man to make a
point of that.
"Chevalier," said I, "I have been foully used in yonder town; by
the fortune of war you shall help me to compensation. We have come
a long, hard journey; we are all much overworked; we need rest, a
better boat, and good sailors. You and your men, Chevalier, shall
row us to Louisburg. When we are attacked, you shall be in the
van; when we are at peace, you shall industriously serve under
King George's flag. Now will you give up your men, and join me
at breakfast?"
For a moment the excellent gentleman was mute, and my heart
almost fell before his venerable white hair and his proud bearing;
but something a little overdone in his pride, a little ludicrous
in the situation, set me smiling; there came back on me the
remembrance of all I had suffered, and I let no sentiment stand
between me and my purposes.
"I am the Chevalier de la--" he began.
"If you were King Louis himself, and every man there in your
boat a peer of his realm, you should row a British subject now,"
said I; "or, if you choose, you shall have fighting instead."
I meant there should be nothing uncertain in my words.
"I surrender," said he; "and if you are bent on shaming me, let
us have it over soon."
"You shall have better treatment than I had in Quebec," answered I.
A moment afterwards, his men were duly surrendered, disarmed,
and guarded, and the Chevalier breakfasted with me, now and again
asking me news of Quebec. He was much amazed to hear that Bigot
had been shot, and distressed that I could not say whether fatally
or not.
I fixed on a new plan. We would now proceed by day as well as by
night, for the shallop could not leave the river, and, besides,
I did not care to trust my prisoners on shore. I threw from the
shallop into the stream enough wheat to lighten her, and now, well
stored and trimmed, we pushed away upon our course, the Chevalier
and his men rowing, while my men rested and tended the sail, which
was now set. I was much loath to cut our good canoe adrift, but she
stopped the shallop's way, and she was left behind.
After a time, our prisoners were in part relieved, and I made the
Chevalier rest also, for he had taken his task in good part, and
had ordered his men to submit cheerfully. In the late afternoon,
after an excellent journey, we saw a high and shaggy point of land,
far ahead, which shut off our view. I was anxious to see beyond it,
for ships of war might appear at any moment. A good breeze brought
up this land, and when we were abreast of it a lofty frigate was
disclosed to view--a convoy (so the Chevalier said) to a fleet of
transports which that morning had gone up the river. I resolved
instantly, since fight was useless, to make a run for it. Seating
myself at the tiller, I declared solemnly that I would shoot the
first man who dared to stop the shallop's way, to make sign, or
speak a word. So, as the frigate stood across the river, I had all
sail set, roused the men at the oars, and we came running by her
stern. Our prisoners were keen enough to get by in safety, for
they were between two fires, and the excellent Chevalier was as
alert and laborious as the rest. They signalled us from the frigate
by a shot to bring to, but we came on gallantly. Another shot
whizzed by at a distance, but we did not change our course, and
then balls came flying over our heads, dropping round us, cooling
their hot protests in the river. But none struck us, and presently
all fell short.
We durst not slacken pace that night, and by morning, much
exhausted, we deemed ourselves safe, and rested for a while, making
a hearty breakfast, though a sombre shadow had settled on the face
of the good Chevalier. Once more he ventured to protest, but I
told him my resolution was fixed, and that I would at all costs
secure escape from my six years' misery. He must abide the fortune
of this war.
For several days we fared on, without more mishap. At last, one
morning, we hugged the shore, I saw a large boat lying on the
beach. On landing we found the boat of excellent size, and made
for swift going, and presently Clark discovered the oars. Then I
turned to the Chevalier, who was watching me curiously, yet hiding
anxiety, for he had upheld his dignity with some accent since he
had come into my service:
"Chevalier," said I, "you shall find me more humane than my
persecutors at Quebec. I will not hinder your going, if you will
engage on your honour--as would, for instance, the Duc de
Mirepoix!"--he bowed to my veiled irony--"that you will not divulge
what brought you back thus far, till you shall reach your Kamaraska
Isles; and you must undertake the same for your fellows here."
He consented, and I admired the fine, vain old man, and lamented
that I had had to use him so.
"Then," said I, "you may depart with your shallop. Your mast and
sail, however, must be ours; and for these I will pay. I will also
pay for the wheat which was thrown into the river, and you shall
have a share of our provisions, got from the Indians."
"Monsieur," said he, "I shall remember with pride that I have
dealt with so fair a foe. I can not regret the pleasure of your
acquaintance, even at the price. And see, monsieur, I do not
think you the criminal they have made you out, and so I will
tell a lady--"
I raised my hand at him, for I saw that he knew something, and
Mr. Stevens was near us at the time.
"Chevalier," said I, drawing him aside, "if, as you say, you
think I have used you honourably, then, if trouble falls upon my
wife before I see her again, I beg you to stand her friend. In the
sad fortunes of war and hate of me, she may need a friend--even
against her own people, on her own hearthstone."
I never saw a man so amazed; and to his rapid questionings I
gave the one reply, that Alixe was my wife. His lip trembled.
"Poor child! poor child!" he said; "they will put her in a
nunnery. You did wrong, monsieur."
"Chevalier," said I, "did you ever love a woman?"
He made a motion of the hand, as if I had touched upon a tender
point, and said, "So young, so young!"
"But you will stand by her," I urged, "by the memory of some
good woman you have known!"
He put out his hand again with a chafing sort of motion. "There,
there," said he, "the poor child shall never want a friend. If I
can help it, she shall not be made a victim of the Church or of
the State, nor yet of family pride--good God, no!"
Presently we parted, and soon we lost our grateful foes in the
distance. All night we jogged along with easy sail, but just at
dawn, in a sudden opening of the land, we saw a sloop at anchor
near a wooded point, her pennant flying. We pushed along, unheeding
its fiery signal to bring to; and declining, she let fly a swivel
loaded with grape, and again another, riddling our sail; but we
were travelling with wind and tide, and we soon left the indignant
patrol behind. Towards evening came a freshening wind and a cobbling
sea, and I thought it best to make for shore. So, easing the sail,
we brought our shallop before the wind. It was very dark, and there
was a heavy surf running; but we had to take our fortune as it came,
and we let drive for the unknown shore, for it was all alike to us.
Presently, as we ran close in, our boat came hard upon a rock, which
bulged her bows open. Taking what provisions we could, we left our
poor craft upon the rocks, and fought our way to safety.
We had little joy that night in thinking of our shallop breaking
on the reefs, and we discussed the chances of crossing overland
to Louisburg; but we soon gave up that wild dream: this river
was the only way. When daylight came, we found our boat, though
badly wrecked, still held together. Now Clark rose to the great
necessity, and said that he would patch her up to carry us on, or
never lift a hammer more. With labour past reckoning we dragged her
to shore, and got her on the stocks, and then set about to find
materials to mend her. Tools were all too few--a hammer, a saw, and
an adze were all we had. A piece of board or a nail were treasures
then, and when the timbers of the craft were covered, for oakum we
had resort to tree-gum. For caulking, one spared a handkerchief,
another a stocking, and another a piece of shirt, till she was
stuffed in all her fissures. In this labour we passed eight days,
and then were ready for the launch again.
On the very afternoon fixed for starting, we saw two sails
standing down the river, and edging towards our shore. One of them
let anchor go right off the place where our patched boat lay. We
had prudently carried on our work behind rocks and trees, so that
we could not be seen, unless our foes came ashore. Our case seemed
desperate enough, but all at once I determined on a daring
enterprise.
The two vessels--convoys, I felt sure--had anchored some distance
from each other, and from their mean appearance I did not think that
they would have a large freight of men and arms; for they seemed not
ships from France, but vessels of the country. If I could divide the
force of either vessel, and quietly, under cover of night, steal on
her by surprise, then I would trust our desperate courage, and open
the war which soon General Wolfe and Admiral Saunders were to wage
up and down this river.
I had brave fellows with me, and if we got our will it would be
a thing worth remembrance. So I disclosed my plan to Mr. Stevens
and the others, and, as I looked for, they had a fine relish for
the enterprise. I agreed upon a signal with them, bade them to
lie close along the ground, picked out the nearer (which was
the smaller) ship for my purpose, and at sunset, tying a white
handkerchief to a stick, came marching out of the woods, upon the
shore, firing a gun at the same time. Presently a boat was put out
from the sloop, and two men and a boy came rowing towards me.
Standing off a little distance from the shore, they asked what
was wanted.
"The King's errand," was my reply in French, and I must be
carried down the river by them, for which I would pay generously.
Then, with idle gesture, I said that if they wished some drink,
there was a bottle of rum near my fire, above me, to which they
were welcome; also some game, which they might take as a gift to
their captain and his crew.
This drew them like a magnet, and, as I lit my pipe, their boat
scraped the sand, and, getting out, they hauled her up and came
towards me. I met them, and, pointing towards my fire, as it might
appear, led them up behind the rocks, when, at a sign, my men
sprang up, the fellows were seized, and were forbidden to cry out
on peril of their lives. I compelled them to tell what hands and
what arms were left on board. The sloop from which they came, and
the schooner, its consort, were bound for Gaspe, to bring provisions
for several hundred Indians assembled at Miramichi and Aristiguish,
who were to go by these same vessels to re-enforce the garrison of
Quebec.
The sloop, they said, had six guns and a crew of twenty men; but
the schooner, which was much larger, had no arms save muskets,
and a crew and guard of thirty men.
In this country there is no twilight, and with sunset came instantly
the dusk. Already silence and dark inclosed the sloop. I had the men
bound to a tree, and gagged also, engaging to return and bring them
away safe and unhurt when our task was over. I chose for pilot the
boy, and presently, with great care, launching our patched shallop
from the stocks--for the ship-boat was too small to carry six
safely--we got quietly away. Rowing with silent stroke, we came
alongside the sloop. No light burned save that in the binnacle, and
all hands, except the watch, were below at supper and at cards.
I could see the watch forward as we dropped silently alongside
the stern. My object was to catch this fellow as he came by. This
I would trust to no one but myself; for now, grown stronger, I
had the old spring in my blood, and I had also a good wish that
my plans should not go wrong through the bungling of others. I
motioned my men to sit silent, and then, when the fellow's back was
toward me, coming softly up the side, I slid over quietly, and drew
into the shadow of a boat that hung near.
He came on lazily, and when just past me I suddenly threw my
arms about him, clapping my hand upon his mouth. He was stoutly
built, and he began at once to struggle. He was no coward, and
feeling for his knife, he drew it, and would have had it in me but
that I was quicker, and, with a desperate wrench, my hand still
over his mouth, half swung him round, and drove my dagger home.
He sank in my arms with a heaving sigh, and I laid him down,
still and dead, upon the deck. Then I whispered up my comrades, the
boy leading. As the last man came over, his pistol, stuck in his
belt, caught the ratlings of the shrouds, and it dropped upon the
deck. This gave the alarm, but I was at the companion-door on the
instant, as the first master came bounding up, sword showing, and
calling to his men, who swarmed after him. I fired; the bullet
travelled his spine, and he fell back stunned.
A dozen others came on. Some reached the deck and grappled with
my men. I never shall forget with what fiendish joy Clark fought
that night--those five terrible minutes. He was like some mad
devil, and by his imprecations I knew that he was avenging the
brutal death of his infant daughter some years before. He was armed
with a long knife, and I saw four men fall beneath it, while he
himself got but one bad cut. Of the Provincials, one fell wounded,
and the other brought down his man. Mr. Stevens and myself held the
companion-way, driving the crew back, not without hurt, for my
wrist was slashed by a cutlass, and Mr. Stevens had a bullet in his
thigh. But presently we had the joy of having those below cry
quarter.
We were masters of the sloop. Quickly battening down the prisoners,
I had the sails spread, the windlass going, and the anchor apeak
quickly, and we soon were moving down upon the schooner, which was
now all confusion, commands ringing out on the quiet air. But when,
laying alongside, we gave her a dose, and then another, from all
our swivels at once, sweeping her decks, the timid fellows cried
quarter, and we boarded her. With my men's muskets cocked, I ordered
her crew and soldiers below, till they were all, save two lusty
youths, stowed away. Then I had everything of value brought from
the sloop, together with the swivels, which we fastened to the
schooner's side; and when all was done, we set fire to the sloop,
and I stood and watched her burn with a proud--too proud--spirit.
Having brought our prisoners from the shore, we placed them with
the rest below. At dawn I called a council with Mr. Stevens and
the others--our one wounded Provincial was not omitted--and we all
agreed that some of the prisoners should be sent off in the long
boat, and a portion of the rest be used to work the ship. So we had
half the fellows up, and giving them fishing-lines, rum, and
provisions, with a couple of muskets and ammunition, we sent them
off to shift for themselves, and, raising anchor, got on our way
down the broad river, in perfect weather.
The days that followed are like a good dream to me, for we came
on all the way without challenge and with no adventure, even round
Gaspe, to Louisburg, thirty-eight days after my escape from
the fortress.