# Myths and Legends Beyond Our Borders/The Defence of St. John

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THE DEFENCE OF ST. JOHN
ALTHOUGH it has always been a mission of womankind to astonish and perplex dull men,—that is, all men,—one cannot read the history of the maritime provinces without a fresh experience of wonder and admiration, with occasional moments of doubt, it is true, at the exploits of the sweethearts and wives of immigrants and habitants. And beauty is added to their courage by the modesty of it all, for not one of them clamors for her rights, or summons a band of shrieking sisters to suppress the tyrant, man; though, goodness knows, the tyrant often needed suppressing the worst way. And it was France—religious, conventional France—that gave these daughters to the New World; France, that held the sex in social abeyance and reared its girls to dance and sing and work embroidery, and charm, and pray in convents, but not to fight. We had, withal, a dozen Jeannes d'Arc in this country in the old days who would have done as much for their people as the original Maid of Orleans did for hers had they enjoyed an opportunity.
​Such was Madeleine, daughter of Lieutenant Verchères, who at the age of fourteen withstood a siege, by Iroquois, of "Castle Dangerous," on the Richelieu. With only three despairing men and two little boys to aid her, she held off the savages for a week, until help arrived from Quebec.
Such was Demoiselle Poulin, who refused to sur-render the forges on the St. Maurice at the bidding of the English.
Such, in quieter, more womanly ways, were Hélène de Champlain, Marguerite de Roberval, and Evangeline Bellefontaine.
Such was Madame Drucour, wife of the governor, who served the guns at Louisburg, firing three shots at the English every day, to inspirit the jaded soldiers to fresh resistance in the siege; and her bravery won favors for her countrymen from the enemy after the surrender.
But the most conspicuous act of courage was the defence of the fort at the mouth of the river St. John, New Brunswick, against the brutal, mean-spirited Charnisay. In 1643 Charles La Tour was a prosperous trader who had set up his station at this point, and his neighbor, D'Aulnay Charnisay, had a post across the bay at Port Royal. The two ruled Acadia jointly, though each had his half, so that there was no excuse for friction; but La Tour's material success aroused the jealousy of the other, and he worked for his removal. As a result of his reports, the king was persuaded to lend himself ​to the schemes of the mischief-maker, and authorized him to arrest La Tour for treason. Conscious of his right, La Tour declined to be arrested; on the contrary, he strengthened his walls and secured enforcements from the Protestant town of Rochelle. Charnisay persuaded the king to crush the rebel, and when the royal troops arrived he blockaded the port against his brother governor. In a fog La Tour and his wife escaped to Boston, whence he came back with five ships filled with sympathetic fighters, and soundly thrashed Charnisay, but carelessly omitted to hang him.
Smarting under his reverse, the beaten man waited until a partial peace had been arranged and La Tour had withdrawn on a hunting and trading trip, before investing the fort, with an idea of starving it into surrender. Two monks, gaining entrance to the place, were unmasked by Madame La Tour and shown to be spies; but to express her contempt she put them out as if they were not worthy of punishment. They returned and announced the absence of La Tour to their chief, who, fancying that he had merely to fight with a woman, made a general assault, only to be beaten off. For three days he boldly sent his followers to be shot by the woman and her little garrison; then, finding that he was not a match for her, he corrupted one of her sentries with money, and so bought his way into the fort he could not capture. She met him so sturdily after he had entered that ​he offered honorable terms of capitulation, and she accepted them in order to save her little band; yet no sooner had the papers been signed and the defenders laid down their arms than this incredible creature fell upon them, had them bound, and, singling out one of their number to act as executioner, hanged them, every one, save him who made the noose. He would have hanged the woman, too, but that he feared the rebuke of his king. As it was, he put a halter on the neck of Madame La Tour, and compelled her to see this slaughter of her servants and soldiers. Her husband impoverished, calumniated, and driven into exile, her friends and money gone, her mind filled with the memory of this outrage, the woman lived but three weeks after the capture, and Fort La Tour, with fifty thousand dollars' worth of plunder, passed into the hands of Charnisay. Strange, indeed, was the sequel to this siege. Charnisay, in more or less disrepute,—rather more than otherwise,—did not live long to gloat over his mean victory. He was found strangely dead in a shallow river near Port Royal. And, would one believe it? the successful suitor for his widow's hand was La Tour. "Your husband and my wife disagreed," said he, "but that time is gone. Let us live in peace."