my was made. The general court of Massachusetts sent
letters of request to the several executives of the provinces, pursuant
to which, they convened at New York, May 1st, 1661. As the result of
the deliberations, two important measures were adopted. Connecticut sent
General Winthrop with troops to march through Albany, there to receive
supplies and to be joined by a body of men from New York. The expedition
was to proceed up Lake Champlain to destroy Montreal. There was a
failure, however, of the supplies, and this project was defeated.
Massachusetts sent forth a fleet of thirty-four sail, under William
Phipps. He proceeded to Port Royal, took it, reduced Acadia, and thence
sailed up the St. Lawrence, with the design of capturing Quebec. The
troops landed with some difficulty, and the place was boldly summoned to
surrender. A proud defiance was returned by Frontenac, as his position
at that time happened to be strengthened by a re-enforcement from
Montreal. Phipps, learning this, and finding, also, that the party of
Winthrop, which he expected at Montreal, failed, gave up the attempt,
and returned to Boston, with the loss of several vessels and a
considerable number of troops, for a part of his fleet was wrecked by a
storm.

It was in the midst of such trying scenes and devastation on the part of
the French and savages, that superstition and fanaticism broke loose in
Salem and produced a reign of terror far greater than that caused by the
savages on the frontier. It was from such scenes to such scenes that
Charles Stevens, his mother and friends fled. Mr. Dustin lived near
Haverhill, in Massachusetts, and when they appealed to him for shelter
and protection he said:

"To such as I have you are welcome; but, I assure you, it is poor. The
savage scalping-knife may be more dangerous than the fanatic's noose in
Salem."

They had been at Haverhill but a few weeks, when, as Charles and Mr.
Henry Waters were one day returning from a hunt, they discovered a man
trailing them.

"It's a white man," Charles remarked.

"So I perceive, and why should he trail us?" Henry Waters asked.

"I know not; but let us ascertain."

They halted at the creek near Haverhill, and were sitting on the banks
of the stream, when a voice from the rocks above demanded their
surrender.

Looking up, they found themselves covered with three rifles. Three white
men, one of whom they recognized as Mr. Joel Martin, the Virginian,
stepped out from b