10 PROCEEDINGS: BOSTON SOCIETY NATURAL HISTORY. 



explore the neighboring coast of Acadia. He intended "to select a 

 site for settlement, to which he proposed afterwards to remove them. 

 On his return he was caught by a tempest, which drove him east- 

 ward. His frail bark was obliged to run before the storm, and at last 

 he reached France, intending soon to return. But misfortune attend- 

 ed him. The Due de Moncoeur is said to have cast him into prison. 

 At all events five years elapsed before anything could be done for the 

 relief of the unfortunate creatures he had left behind." 1 



" At first it would seem as if on being thus released from all restraint 

 they fought with one another like entrapped rats, for Les-carbot tells 

 that 'ces gens se mutinerent, et se couperent la gorge Tun a Pautre'. 

 Then as the horror of their situation fully dawned upon them, and 

 they realized that only by harmonious co-operation could any life be 

 preserved, better counsels prevailed, and systematic efforts were put 

 forth to secure a maintenance. From the wreck of a Spanish ship 

 they built themselves huts, the ocean furnished them with fire-wood, 

 the wild cattle with meat, the seals with clothing, and with some 

 seeds and farming implements happily included among the 'bagage' 

 mentioned by Les-carbot, they carried on agricultural operations in a 

 sheltered valley by the lake-side whose tradition remains to this day 

 by the locality being known as the French Gardens. 



" Despite these alleviations in the rigor of their fate, however, the 

 utter absence of the most necessary comforts, and their own evil 

 deeds so reduced their numbers that when, in 1603, the King sent a 

 vessel [under Chef d'h6tel, the same pilot] to bring them back, only 

 eleven out of the original forty were found alive, clad in their self- 

 made seal-skin garments, broken, haggard, and unkempt, they were 

 presented before Henry IV., and their harrowing tale so touched the 

 royal heart that they each received a full pardon for their crimes, and 

 a solatium of fifty golden crowns. The strangest part of the story 

 remains yet to be told. Undeterred by an experience that was surely 

 sufficient to appall the stoutest hearted, these Rip Van Winkles of the 

 sea, whose names may still be found in record in the Registres 

 d' Audience du Parliament de Rouen, returned to their place of exile, and 

 drove a thriving trade in furs and ivory with their mother country for 

 many years, until one by one they passed away." 2 



1 Patterson, I c. 8. 



2 Oxley, I c. 167. 



