f her guns. On
the fourth day whilst she, hoping for some respite, was making her
soldiers rest a miserable Swiss sentinel betrayed the garrison, and
when the alarm was given the enemy were already scaling the walls.
Lady la Tour even in so desperate an emergency as this succeeded in
rallying the defenders, who bravely resisted the attack, though
greatly outnumbered by their assailants. She only surrendered at the
last extremity and under condition that the lives of all should be
spared. This condition Charnisay is said to have shamefully violated;
all the garrison were hanged, with the exception of one who was spared
on condition of acting the part of executioner, and the lady commander
was compelled to stand at the scaffold with a rope around her neck as
though she were the vilest criminal.

It is but fair to state that our knowledge of the gross indignity to
which Lady la Tour was subjected is derived from Denys' narrative, and
its authenticity has been questioned by Parkman. Nevertheless accounts
of the transaction that have come to us from sources friendly to
Charnisay admit that he hanged the greater number of his prisoners,
"to serve as an example to posterity," and that Madame la Tour was put
into confinement where, as Charnisay's reporter somewhat brutally
observes, "she fell ill with spite and rage." The Lady la Tour did not
long survive her misfortunes. Scarcely three weeks had elapsed after
the capture of the fort she had so gallantly defended when she died
and was laid to rest near the spot consecrated by her devotion, the
scene of so many hopes and fears.

There will always be a peculiar charm for us in the story of our
Acadian heroine. Fearless, energetic, resolute undoubtedly she was,
yet who shall say that the motives that actuated her were other than
pure and womanly? A heart more loyal and true never beat in a human
breast. She gave her life to protect her husband, her children and
the humbler dependents that followed their fortunes from the hands of
a bitter and unscrupulous enemy.

The capture of his stronghold and the death of his faithful wife
involved la Tour in what appeared to be at the time irreparable ruin.
He found himself once more, as in his younger days, an exile and a
wanderer.

The booty taken by Charnisay was valued at L10,000 sterling and as it
had been accumulated in traffic with the Indians we may form some idea
of the value of the trade of the St. John river at this time.

W