sufficient force, as he hoped, to secure tranquillity. But Oct. 6. he was too sanguine. After a short pause, perhaps used to get a supply of ammunition, the ravages were renewed. At Blackpoint, twenty men, at work in the fields, were set upon by two hundred Indians, and all but one were killed or made prisoners. A similar fate befell some twelve or fifteen persons at York and Berwick. At the latter place, in revenge for their repulse on a first assault, the savages burned to death one of their captives. In the winter they took a garrisonhouse at Haverhill by surprise, and made several prisoners. Dudley sent two strong parties into the eastern country. But the distance at which the Indians kept themselves was such that before they could be reached, though extraordinary forced marches were made, the provisions which, over a country impassable by horses, the English carried in their knapsacks, were exhausted, and they were obliged to turn back for fear of starving.' 1704. Feb. 8. The alarm for an assault upon Deerfield had been only premature. This village, slowly recovering from the ravages of the last war, was still so poor that the General Court had lately made a grant for the support of its minister. In the service of the Governor-General of Canada, the partisan soldier, Hertel de Rouville, "worthily filled," days together without subsistence, excepting a few bits of skin, ground nuts, bark of trees, wild onions, and lily roots. Nevertheless, she was wonderfully supported, and at last safely delivered. But the babe soon perished for want of nourishment and by the cruelty of the Indians, who, as it cried, threw hot embers in its mouth." The housewife, perceiving the misery that was attending her, and having boiling soap on the fire, scalded one of them to death. The sentinel within was slain, and she with several others were taken, which was the second time of her captivity. But that which heightened her affliction was being with child, and yet obliged to travel in a deep snow, of April 8, 1712, in British Colonial under a heavy burden, and many Papers.) 2 From Deerfield in the west to Wells in the east is the frontier to the inland of both the Provinces." (Letter of Dudley to the Lords of Trade, 1 writes Charlevoix, "the place of his father, whose age and infirmities no longer allowed him to go on distant expeditions." With four brothers, he led a party of two hundred and fifty French and Indians from Montreal to the north-western frontier of Massachusetts. The drifts which they traversed on snow-shoes lay deep around the little hamlet, and buried the palisades which had been set for its protection. Approaching stealthily, the enemy lay around it on a cold winter's night. "Not long Sack of before break of day," observing that the sentries Feb. 29. had left their posts, they climbed over the snowbanks, and fell upon the sleeping inhabitants. They slaughtered sixty, and took a hundred prisoners; twentyfour hours they "spent in plundering, burning, and destroying," and then, to escape pursuit, "withdrew into the woods, carrying with them their plunder and captives." They were followed to some distance by as many armed men as could be suddenly collected from the lower towns; but, for want of snow-shoes, the pursuit was ineffectual, and the marauders, with their booty and their captives, reached Quebec and St. François by a march of twentyfive days.2 Mr. John Williams, minister of Deerfield, published an account of this tragedy, three years afterwards, when he had been ransomed and had come back to Boston.3 He says he was roused from sleep by the sound of of the min- axes and hatchets plied against his doors and windows. Leaping from his bed, he found that the house was already entered, and by the time he could seize his arms, twenty of the enemy, as he judged, Captivity ister of Deerfield. 1 Charlevoix, II. 290. 2 Penhallow, 11-13; comp. Niles, in Mass. Hist. Col., 252, 253; Charlevoix, II. 290. "The Redeemed Captive returning to Zion: A Faithful History of Remarkable Occurrences in the Cap tivity and the Deliverance of Mr. John Williams," &c., 1707. The book is dedicated to Governor Dudley, and commemorates gratefully his sending of William Dudley to Quebec to obtain a surrender of prisoners. "brake into the room, with painted faces and hideous acclamations." A pistol, which he "put to the breast of the first Indian who came up," missed fire, and he was seized and bound. After nearly an hour, during which time they often threatened his life," holding hatchets over his head," he and his family were allowed to put on some clothes, and, "about sun an hour high, they were all carried out of the house for a march, and saw many of the houses of the neighbors in flames." The snow was as high as their knees. His wife was feeble, having within a few weeks become a mother. He begged "to walk with her, to help her in her journey." She "told him that her strength of her body began to fail, and that he must expect to part with her," but "never spake any discontented word as to what had befallen, but with suitable expressions glorified God." The second day she was taken from him, and before the end of that day, having fallen from weariness in crossing a brook, "the cruel and bloodthirsty salvage who took her slew her with his hatchet." It was a great comfort to him afterwards to learn that "God had put it into the hearts of his neighbors to come out as far as she lay, to take up her corpse, recarry it into the town, and decently to bury it." During the march Williams's captors often threatened his life. Nineteen of his fellow-prisoners were "murdered by the way, and two starved to death." His "feet were so tender, swollen, bruised, and full of pain, that he could scarce stand upon them;" yet he was forced to travel in snow-shoes twenty-five miles a day. One day he "judged that they went forty or forty-five miles. God wonderfully supported him, and so far renewed his strength, that in the afternoon he was stronger to travel than in the forenoon." He was distressed by vermin, which infested the rags given him in place of his own clothes. It was eight weeks after the catastrophe at Deerfield when he reached Montreal, where the Governor-General took him 1706. from the Indians, and treated him with kindness.1 After two years and a half more, his friends in Massachusetts having succeeded in obtaining an exchange of prisoners, he sailed from Quebec on his return, accompanied Oct. 25. by fifty-seven partners in captivity, two of whom were his children. Another child was earlier ransomed. A son, who was absent from home at the time of the inroad, he found pursuing his studies at college at the expense of some friends. A young daughter, who was still detained, eventually became a Roman Catholic, and gave herself to an Indian husband. She came to Deerfield several years after, but she had become wedded to the wild life of the woods, and could not be wooed back to the scenes and friends of her early years. Such was one of the distressful passages which the Jesuit Charlevoix despatches in the sentence: "De Rouville, in his turn, surprised the English, killed many of them, and took a hundred and fifty prisoners.” 2 Aimless Under French officers and French priests, the war continued to be conducted with cruelty as aimless as it was brutal. Expeditions like those from Massachubarbarities setts against Quebec had a substantial purpose. of the war. If successful, they would establish the empire of New England, and terminate the chronic strife on this continent. For the French in America, so much less numerous than their rivals, conquest was out of the question, unless with the aid of such large forces from the parent country as they were not in the least likely to obtain. The war they waged was simply a succession of isolated barbarities, accomplishing nothing whatever -- Williams, Redeemed Captive, temporary memorandum of the names 27. Williams's house at Deer- of the slain and captives, with the field was standing till within twenty amount of their respective losses in or thirty years, with the notches property, is in Proceedings of the made by the Indian hatchets visible Mass. Hist. Soc. for 1867, 481; comp. on the front door, and the beams 478; Ibid. for 1870, 311; Hoyt, Indian perforated by their bullets. Wars, 181-195; John Schuyler's letter in Mass. Arch. LXXII. 13-15. 2 Charlevoix, II. 290.-A con towards a solution of the question of power. A band of sanguinary savages was led hundreds of miles over the snow to an assault upon some hamlet, where a few poor people had made an opening in the forest, and were beginning to get a hard living. Watching for a time when it reposed in unsuspecting helplessness, they fell upon it by night, burned the dwellings, tortured and massacred some of the inhabitants, and then fled, carrying with them the rest. Of the spoils, they consumed the food and drink, as long as their fear of pursuit allowed. But they found little or no money to carry away, and for more cumbrous booty they had no means of conveyance. They gained nothing except the gratification of their monstrous appetite for mischief, and what they might be paid by their French employers for the prisoners whom they brought in. Nor does this latter kind of profit seem to have entered much into their account, if one may judge by the lavish butchering of their captives on the way. 1704. At sea, there was occasional good fortune for the English. A French privateer, fitted out to intercept the spring supplies shipped to New England from April 7. the West Indies, was wrecked in Massachusetts Bay. A frigate, conveying two thousand muskets to Quebec, was captured by an English squadron.2 As warm weather approached, the Indians showed themselves at Wells and at Dover, in quest, at the latter place, of Colonel Waldron, who was fortunately absent from home, and so escaped paying another penalty "Their lying in wait to kill and scalp single persons on our frontiers, their surprising and cutting off families, their stealing of captives, torturing and making slaves of them, and such like murders and cruelties, is what they call carrying on the war. All which is frequently done by their skulking parties, in conjunction with the Indians in their interest, April 25. whose bloody and barbarous manners 2 Penhallow, 13; Niles, in Mass. ート |