(1678-1747)
One day in 1692; Madeleine; then only fourteen; was working outside the fort with several other residents, when the sound went out that an Iroquois army was fast approaching. Before long, about 45 enemy warriors were upon them, firing muskets into the group.
She, like most women of the day, was already well trained in the use of a musket and ordered those inside to begin placing guns in clear sight at each opening. She quieted the cries of the women and children inside, not wishing to tip off the attackers to their vulnerability, and had everyone who could walk; march back and forth to give the illusion of a well armed stronghold. All fires were lit and guns fired randomly, and though surrounded, the Iroquois were kept at bay; believing that the fort was heavily guarded.
For almost a week, she kept up the vigil; never putting down her gun or changing her clothes, and rarely slept. Sounding the bugle, to suggest the commanding of orders, she hoped to get the attention of any French soldiers in the area. Finally, on the seventh day, her prayers were answered, when Officer La Monnerie entered the fort with his small army. Cool as a cucumber, Madeleine simply asked him if he could relieve her and her men as "we have not been off duty for eight days!"
The French-Canadian poet, William Henry Drummond, wrote this in her honour:
With soldiers two, and a cripple. May the Virgin pray for us all.
But we've powder and guns in plenty, and we'll fight to the latest breath,
And if need be, for God and country, die a brave soldier's death.
Load all the carabines quickly, and whenever you sight the foe,
Fire from the upper turret and loopholes down below,
Keep up the fire, brave soldiers, though the fight may be fierce and long,
And they'll think our little garrison is more than a hundred strong.
So spake the maiden Madeleine, and she roused the Norman blood
That seemed for a moment sleeping, and sent it like a flood
Through every heart around her, and they fought the red Iroquois
As fought in the old-time battles the soldiers of Carignan.
And six days followed eaeh other, and feeble her limbs became,
Yet the maid never sought her pillow, and the flash of the carabine flame
Illumined the powder-smoked faces, ay, even when hope seemed gone,
And she only smiled at her comrades and told them to fight, fight on.
And she blew a blast on her bugle, and lo, from the forest black
Merrily, merrily ringing, an answer came pealing back.
Oh, pleasant and sweet it sounded, borne on the morning air,
For it heralded fifty soldiers, with gallant De 1a Monniere.
And when he beheld the maiden, the soldier of Carignan,
And looked on the little garrison that fought the red Iroquois
And held their own in the battle, for six long weary days,
He stood for a moment speechless, and marvelled at woman's ways.
Then he beckoned the men behind him, and steadily they advance,
And with carabines uplifted, the veterans of France
Saluted the brave young captain so timidly standing there,
And they fired a volley in honour of Madeleine Vercheres.
