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The assassination of Captain Albert restored peace, at least,
to the little colony of Fort Charles. He had been the chief danger
to the garrison, by reason of his vexatious tyranny, fomented
ever by the miserable malice and espionage of Pierre Renaud.
Both of these had perished, and a sense of new security filled the
hearts of the survivors. They had also gratified all revenges.
The sequel of the narrative may be told, almost in the very
words of the simple chronicle from which our facts are mostly
drawn.

“When they (the conspirators) were come home againe, they
assembled themselves together to choose one to be Governor over
them.” In this selection there was no difficulty. Jealousies and
dissensions had ceased to exist, and the choice naturally fell upon
Nicholas Barré,[15] whose former position, as Lieutenant under Albert,
and whose recent connection with the party by which he

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was slain, had naturally given him a large influence among the colonists.
He was equal to his new duties. He “knewe so well to
quite himself of this charge that all rancour and dissention
ceased among them, and they lived peaceably one with another.”
But, though harmony was restored among them, it was a harmony
without hope. They had been abandoned by their countrymen.
The supplies which Ribault had promised them had
utterly failed. They had never, indeed, been levied. Ribault
returned to France only to find it convulsed with a renewal of the
civil war, under the auspices of that incarnate mischief, Catherine
de Medicis, and her fatherless and cruel son, in whose name
she swayed the country to its ruin. Coligny, the father of the
colony, had enough to do in fighting the battles of the Huguenots
at home. He could do nothing for those whom he had sent
abroad. The peace of Longjumean had been of short duration,
and there had been really no remission of hostilities on the part
of the Catholics. In the space of three months more than two
thousand of the former fell victims to the rage of the populace;
and, though reluctantly, the Prince of Condé and Coligny were
forced into a resumption of arms for the safety of their own persons.
The immediate necessities of their situation were such as
to defeat their efforts in behalf of the remote settlement at Fort
Charles. They needed all their soldiers and Huguenots in
France. Feeling themselves abandoned—they knew not why—
the colonists in Florida ceased to behold a charm or solace in
their solitary realm of refuge. Its securities were no longer sufficient
to compensate for its loneliness. Better the strife, perhaps,
than this unmeaning and unbroken silence. They were too
few for adventure, and the discouragements resulting from their
domestic grievances were enough to paralyze any such spirit.

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But for this there had been no lack of the necessary inducements.
In their second voyage to King Ouade, seeking “mil and beans,”
they had learned some of the secrets of the country which made
their eyes brighten. They had discovered that there was gold in
the land, and that the gold of the land was good. This prince
had freely given them of his treasure. He had bestowed on
them pearls of the native waters, stones of finest chrystal, and
certain specimens of silver ore, which he described, in reply to
their eager inquiries, as having been gathered at the foot of certain
high mountains, the bowels of which contained it in greatest
quantity. These were the mountains of Apalachia, and the truth
of Ouade's revelations have been confirmed by subsequent discovery.
The intelligence had greatly gladdened the hearts of our
Frenchmen, and nothing but the feebleness of the garrison prevented
Albert from prosecuting a search which promised so
largely to gratify the lusts of avarice. His subsequent errors and
fate put an end to the desire among his followers. They longed
for nothing now so much as home. They had been temporarily
abandoned by the Indians whose granaries they had emptied, and
who had been compelled to wander off to remote forests in search
of their own supplies. The gloom of the Frenchmen naturally
increased in the absence of their allies, who had furnished them
equally with food and recreation. Their provisions again began
to fail them. Their resources in corn and peas were quite exhausted;
and no more could be procured from the red-men, who
had preserved a supply barely sufficient for the planting of their
little fields. In this condition of want, with this feeling of destitution
and abandonment, it was resolved among the Huguenots, to
depart the colony. With a fond hope once more of recovering
the shores of that country, still most beloved, which had so

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unkindly cast them forth, they began to build themselves a
vessel sufficiently large to bear their little company. “And
though there were no men among them,” says the chronicle,
“that had any skill, notwithstanding, necessitye, which is the
maistresse of all sciences, taught them the way to build it.”
But how were they to provide the sails, the tackle and the
cordage? “Having no meanes to recover these things they were
in worse case than at the first, and almost ready to fall into
despayre.” They were succored, when most desponding, by the
help of Providence. “That good God, which never forsaketh
the afflicted, did favor them in their necessitie.” The Indians,
who had been for some time absent, seeking, by the chase, in
distant forests, to supply themselves with provisions in place of
those which they had yielded to the white men, now began to reappear;
and, in the midst of their perplexities, they were visited
by the Caciques, Audusta and Maccou, with more than two
hundred of their followers. These, our Frenchmen went forth to
meet, with great show of satisfaction; and had they been sufficiently
re-assured by the return of their red friends—had they
not been too much the victims of nostalgia, or homesickness, the
cloud might have passed from their fortunes, and the little colony
might have been re-established under favoring auspices. But
their only thought was of their native land. They declared their
wishes to the Indian chieftains, and, showing in what need of
cordage they stood, they were told that this would be provided
in the space of a few days. The Caciques kept their word, and,
in little time, brought an abundance of cordage. But other
things were wanted, and “our men sought all meanes to recover
rosen in the woodes, wherein they cut pine trees round about,
out of which they drew sufficient reasonable quantitie to bray the

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vessel. Also they gathered a kind of mosse, which groweth on
the trees of this countrie, to serve to caulke the same withall.
There now wanted nothing but sayles, which they made of their
own shirtes and of their sheetes.” Thus provided with the things
requisite, our Frenchmen hastened to finish their brigantine, and
“used so speedie diligence,” that they were soon ready to launch
forth upon the great deep. They gave to their Indian friends all
their surplus goods and chattels, leaving to them all the merchandise
of the fort which they could not take away;—a liberality
which gave the red-men the “greatest contentation in the
worlde.” But they re-embarked their forge, their artillery and
other munitions of war. Unhappily, they were too impatient to
begin their journey. In the too sanguine hope of reaching
France, with a speed proportioned to their eager desires, they
laid in no adequate provision for a long voyage. “In the meane
season the wind came so fit for their purpose, that it seemed to
invite them to put to sea. Being drunken with the too excessive
joy which they had conceived for their returning into France, or
rather deprived of all foresight and consideration:—without
regarding the inconsistencie of the winds which change in a
moment, they put themselves to sea, and, with so slender victuals,
that the end of their enterprise became unlucky and unfortunate.”

They had not sailed a third part of the distance, when they
were surprised with calms, which so much hindered their progress
that, during the space of three weeks, they had not advanced
twenty-five leagues. In this period their provisions underwent
daily diminution. In a short time their stock had sunk so low
that it was necessary to limit the allowance to each man. We
may conceive their destitution from this allowance. “Twelve
grains of mill by the day, which may be in value as much as

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twelve peason!” But even this poor quantity was not long continued.
It was “a felicity,” in the language of the chronicle,
which was of brief duration. Soon the “mill” failed them
entirely—all at once—and they “had nothing for their more
assured refuge, but their shoes and leather jerkins, which they
did eate.” But their misfortune was not confined to their food.
Their supplies of fresh water failed them also. Never had
adventurers set forth upon the seas with such wretched provision.
Their beverage finally became the water of the ocean—the thirstprovoking
brine. Such beverage as this increased their miseries—
atrophy and madness followed—and death stretched himself
out among them on every side. Nor were they suffered to escape
from the most painful toils while thus contending against thirst
and famine. Their wretched vessel sprang a-leak. The water
grew upon them. Day and night were they kept busy in casting
it forth, without cessation or repose. Each day added to their
griefs and dangers. Their shoes and jerkins they had already
devoured in their desperation, and where to look for other material
to supply the materiel of distension, puzzled their thoughts.
While thus distressed by their anxieties, with their comrades
dying about them, a new danger assailed them, as if fortune was
resolved to crush them at a blow, and thus conclude their miseries.
The winds rose, the seas were lashed into fury by the storm.
Their vessel, no longer buoyant, “in the turning of a hand”
shipped a fearful sea, and was nearly swamped—“filled halfe full
of water, and bruised in upon the one side.” This was the last
drop in the cup of misfortune which finally makes it overflow.
Then it was that the hearts of our Frenchmen sunk utterly within
them. They no longer cared to contend for life. They gave
themselves up to despair. “Being now more out of hope than

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ever to escape out of this extreme peril, they cared not for casting
out of the water which now was almost ready to drown them;
and as men resolved to die, everie one fell downe backwarde, and
gave themselves over, altogether unto the will of the waves.”

It was at this moment of extreme despondency, that Lachane
tried to cheer them with new hope, and to new exertions. He
encouraged them by various assurance, to hold out against fate,
and struggle manfully to the last. He told them “how little
way they had to sayle, assuring them that if the winde helde,
they should see land within three dayes.” “At worst,” he added,
“we can die when we can do no better. It will be always time
enough for that. But this necessity is not now. We can surely
put it off for some time longer. At present, let us live!”

Speaking thus, in the most cheerful manner, the brave fellow
set them a proper example by which to dissipate their fears and
to provide against them. He began to bail and cast out the water
in which, in their extreme indifference to their fate, they either
sat or lay. They took heart as they beheld him, and joined in
the labor with new vigor, and that elastic spirit which is so characteristic
of Frenchmen. But, when the three days had gone
by, and still their eyes were unblessed with the sight of the promised
land—when they had consumed every remnant of shoe and
jerkin, and nothing more was left them to consume, they turned
their eyes in bitter reproach upon the man who had persuaded
them to live. He met their reproachful glances with a smile,
and instantly devised a remedy for their fears and weaknesses,
through one of those terrible thoughts which, at any other period,
would revolt, with extremest loathing, the humanity of the man,
however little human.

“My comrades!” said the noble fellow, “you hunger—you

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starve! You will perish unless you can get some food. I see it
in your eyes. They have no lustre, and the courage seems to
have gone out entirely from your hearts. You must not die!
You must not lose your courage. You shall not. You shall
drink life and courage out of my breast. I have enough there
for all who thirst and faint. You shall feed upon my heart—
you shall drink the blood of a brave man, and live for your friends
and country. I have few friends, and my country can spare me.
Better that one of us should die than that all should perish. I
am ready to die for you! What! You shake your heads—you
would not have it so—but it shall be so! You have loved me—
you have suffered for me. Well, Lachane loves you in return—
he will die for you. You shall remember him hereafter, when
our own dear France receives you again in safety. You will
bless his memory!”

A groan was the only reply of those around him. Lachane
threw open his breast.

“There!” he cried; “Look! I am ready! I fear not death.
Strike! See you not, my bosom is open to the knife. My hand
is down—there!”—grasping the seat upon which he sate,—
“There! it shall not be lifted to arrest the blow!”

The famished wretches looked with wolfish yearnings upon the
white breast of the offered sacrifice; but there was still a human
revolting in their hearts that kept them moveless and silent.
They longed for the horrible banquet, but still turned from it with
a lingering human loathing. But Lachane was resolute.

“Ah!” said he, reproachfully; “you fear—you would not
that I should die in this manner; but, mes amis, you know me not.
You know not how it will glad my heart to know that its dying
pulse shall add new life to yours Here, Lafourche, Genet—you are

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both beside me. You are the feeblest. You are dying fast.
You thirst; another day and you perish! You have a mother,
Genet—a dear sister, Lafourche—why will you not live for them?
Lo! you, now,—when I strike the blow,—do you both clap your
mouths upon the wound. Drink freely—drink deep—that you
may have strength—and let the rest drink after you. There!—
my braves!—there.”

With each of these last words, the brave fellow—thence called
“Lachane, the Deliverer”—struck two fatal blows, one upon his
heart, and one upon his throat. He leaned back between the
two famished persons whom he had especially addressed, and,
while the consciousness was yet in the eyes of the dying man,
they sprang like thirsting tigers, and fastened their mouths upon
each streaming orifice. The victim, smarting and conscious to
the last, sunk in a few seconds, into the sacred slumber of death.
This heroism saved the rest. He had struck with a firm hand and
a resolute spirit. In his death they lived. Slow to accept his
proffered sacrifice, he was scarcely cold, ere the survivors fastened
upon his body; and, ere the last morsel of the victim was
consumed, they had assurances of safety.[16]

It seemed as if expiation had been done; as if the sacrifice had
purged their offences and made them acceptable to heaven. The
land rose upon their vision,—a glimpse like that of salvation to

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the doomed one,—a sight “whereof they were so exceeding glad,
that the pleasure caused them to remain a long time as men without
sense; whereby they let the pinnesse floate this and that
way without holding any right way or course.” While thus wandering,
in sight of France, but still at the mercy of the winds and
waves, they were boarded by an English vessel. Here they were
recognized by a Frenchman who happened to be one of the crew
that had accompanied Ribault in his voyage. The most feeble
were put upon the coast of France; the rest were taken to England,
with the design that Queen Elizabeth, who meditated sending
an expedition to Florida, might have the benefit of their
report.

eaf373.n15

[15] “Il fallut songer ensuite à lui donner un successeur, et le choix que
l'on fit, fut plus sage, qu'on ne devoit l'attendre de gens, dont les mains
fumoient encore du sang de leur Chef. Ils mirent à leur tête un fort honnete
homme, nommé Nicholas Barré, lequel par son adresse et sa prudence
rétablit en peu de tems la paix et le bon ordre dans la colonie.”—Charlevoix,
N. Fran., Liv. 1.

eaf373.n16

[16] Lest we should be suspected of exaggeration we quote a single sentence
from the condensed account in Charlevoix;—“Lachau, celui là
mème, que la Capitaine Albert avoit exilé, après l'avoir dégradé des
armes, déclara qu'il vouloit bien avancer sa mort, qu'il croyoit inévitable,
pour reculer de quelques jours celle de ses compagnons. Il fut pris au
mot, et on l'égorgea sur le champ, sans qu'il fît la moindre résistance, Il
ne fut pas perdu une goute de son sang, tous en bûrent avec avidité, le
corps fut mis en pieces, et chacun en eut sa part.”

p373-127

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