efits. He was a small man, and as mean in disposition as in stature: thin and lame, but with something striking, though disagreeable, in his appearance. He was vindictive in his character, and his ambition knew no bounds. For some unknown reason he entertained a violent hatred against the French, which led him to acts of unexampled barbarity. He came to Louisiana with the title of governor and captain-general; and being clothed with unlimited power, he abused his short-lived authority in every possible manner. He took upon him the state of a sovereign; had his throne, his levees, his guards, who constantly attended him; and he did not want for courtiers.

His first public act was to take the census of the city. This was soon done, as the town contained only 3190 inhabitants. He next ordered the arrest of Foucault, intendent of the colony, Lafreniere, the attorney-general, Noyant, his son-in-law, and Boisblanc, both members of the Superior Council. They were attending the levee of the tyrant, when requesting them to step into an adjoining apartment, he delivered them over to a party of soldiers, who immediately put them in irons. A few days after, Marquis, Doucet, Petit, Marent, Caresse, Poupet, and the two Milhets, were added . to the number of prisoners.

Villere was now the only victim wanting; and he was the most important one, as he had been at the head of all the most violent. measures. It was no easy matter for O'Reilly to get him into his power, as on hearing of the submission of New Orleans, he had retired to his plantation in the parish of St. Charles, in the midst of friends who detested the Spaniards no less cordially than he did himself. He was, however, on the point of taking refuge with the English at Manchac, lest he might implicate his neighbors, when he received a letter from Aubry, assuring him that he might return to New Orleans without danger, and that he would be security for his safety.

On the faith of this promise he came to New Orleans, and fearlessly presented himself before the governor. But he had no sooner entered the house and began to mount the stairs, than the guards stationed there descended each one step as he ascended one, with the design of closing in after him. He stopped for a moment on the second step: he was a man of uncommon strength, and there were as yet but two soldiers behind him. It was but for a moment he hesitated; with a disdainful smile he surveyed the living chain forming around him, and came into the presence of the governor with the air rather of a superior than a culprit. O'Reilly, hardened as he was in cruelty, seemed to feel some compunction at the thought of murdering such a man.

Villere was accompanied by a friend who was willing to share his danger. This was an old Swedish officer who had fought under Charles XII, and at the battle of Pultowa had received eleven wounds, all in facing the enemy. At the sight of this venerable old man, whose gray hairs seemed to give a sanction to the rebellion,

O'Reilly flew into a violent passion, and exclaimed, "I ought to hang you also on the highest gibbet that can be found." "Do so," replied the old soldier; the rope cannot disgrace this neck;" and baring his bosom, he exhibited the scars of his wounds, when the tyrant shrunk from the sight, and the old man was released.

Villere was sent a prisoner on board of a vessel at anchor in the Mississippi. He had been there but a short time, and was in the cabin quietly conversing with the captain, when a boat passed with a female in it: she was in tears, and he recognized her as his wife. She had heard of his danger, and was then hastening to join him at New Orleans. His first impulse was to make himself known, and the sympathizing captain offered to hail the boat; but Villere recollecting himself, prevented him. "No," said he; "the sudden shock of seeing me in this situation would kill her;" and he remained calmly watching the boat as it bore her from his sight. But the effort to repress his feelings had been more than he could bear; the blood rushed to his brain; and, seized with sudden frenzy, he flew to the deck and attacked the Spanish guards. The captain followed in haste, and called to the guards not to injure him; but it was too late: he had already received their bayonets in his body, and only recovered his senses to know that he was dying.

The captain finding all assistance useless, could only offer to fulfill his last commands. "Promise me, then," said Villere, "that you will give these blood-stained garments to my children; and tell them that it is my last command that they never bear arms for Spain or against France." The captain did as he was requested, and the children of Villere faithfully obeyed the dying injunction of their father.

The other prisoners were immediately brought to trial. The charge against them was founded on a law of Alphonso XI, punishing with death and confiscation of property all persons guilty of rebellion against the king or the State; or in other words, all who should take up arms for their rights and liberties; and accomplices were subject to the same penalties.

Foucault and Brault maintained that they owed no account of their conduct but to the King of France, whose subjects they never ceased to be. The first was sent to Paris, the second acquitted.

The other prisoners also pleaded, but to no purpose, the incompetency of the tribunal before which they had been brought. In vain did they allege that they could not be declared rebels against Spain for anything they might have done while the French flag yet waved over the colony; that they owed no submission to Spain until her representative had exhibited his credentials; and that the prince who did not yet protect had no right to punish them.

Six victims had been chosen by O'Reilly to serve as an example to the province; but Villere having been assassinated, he contented himself with condemning five to death. The testimony of two witnesses against each of the accused was necessary to give a color

of legality to their condemnation; and these were easily found. Lafreniere, Noyant, Marquis, Joseph Milhet, and Caresse were sentenced to be hung, and their property confiscated. The unfortunate Louisianians vainly implored of the inexorable O'Reilly a delay that he would enable them to have a recourse to the royal clemency. The only favor he could be prevailed upon to grant was the substitution of shooting for hanging.

On the 28th of September, the day appointed for the execution, all the troops were drawn up under arms on the levee and in the public square; the gates were closed, the posts all reinforced, and a strong patrol paraded through the deserted streets; the inhabitants having all retired to their houses the evening before, that they might not witness the death of their friends. The five victims were led out into the small square in front of the barracks, where they met their fate with the utmost courage and resignation.

It was attempted to blindfold them, when Marquis, a Swiss captain in the service of France, indignantly opposed it. "I have," said he, "risked my life many a time in the service of my adopted country, and have never feared to face my enemies." And then addressing his companions, "Let us," he exclaimed, "die like brave men; we need not fear death." Coolly taking a pinch of snuff and turning to the Spaniards, he said, "Take notice, Spaniards, that we die because we will not cease to be French. As for myself, though a foreigner by birth, my heart belongs to France. For thirty years I have fought for Louis le bien-aime,and I glory in a death that proves my attachment to him. Fire, executioners!"

The other six prisoners, Boisblanc, Doucet, Marent, Jean Milhet, Petit, and Poupet, were sentenced, the first to imprisonment for life, and the others for a term of years. They were sent to Havana, and confined in the dungeons of the Moro Castle.

DUNMORE'S WAR.

THE war usually called Dunmore's, all the events of which were comprised within a few months of the year 1774, arose in consequence of cold-blooded murders committed upon inoffensive Indians by the Virginians, in the region of the upper Ohio. Among those murdered by Cresap and Greathouse, at Captina and Yellow Creek, in the vicinity of Wheeling, was included the whole family of the noble, generous, and unfortunate Logan. He had been the steadfast friend of the whites and the advocate of peace; but upon this, he seized the hatchet and sought revenge. The Shawanee, on the Scioto, was the principal tribe in the war, those north and west being in alliance with it. As soon as these murders were known, their revenge and fury knew no bounds, and all manner of savage barbarities were committed upon the frontier settlements. Their operations were mainly directed against the Virginians, as the

and with the other held a large carving-knife, as if to plunge it into his heart, while his eyes were steadfastly fixed on his. Gazing for a moment, he dropped his arm and said, "I won't kill you." He then at once adopted him in the place of a brother whom he had lost in the wars with the English, and Henry was eventually ransomed.

Seventy of the troops were massacred, and of these the bodies of several were boiled and eaten. The remainder, together with those taken at the fall of forts St. Joseph and Green Bay, were restored after the war.

Siege of Detroit.-Detroit was a more important situation even than Michilimackinac. Beside, an immense quantity of valuable goods to the amount, it is stated, of over two millions of dollars, was known to be stored there. If captured, it would unite the hitherto separate lines of operation pursued by the Indian tribes above and below. Under these circumstances its reduction was undertaken by Pontiac in person. The garrison numbered one hundred and thirty, including officers, beside whom there were something like forty individuals in the village engaged in the fur trade.

Such was the situation of Detroit when the Ottawa chieftain having completed his arrangements, on the 8th of May, presented himself at the gates of the town with a force of about three hundred Indians, chiefly Ottawas and Chippewas, and requested a council with Major Gladwyn, the commandant. He expected, under this pretext, to gain admittance for himself and a considerable number of attendants, who accordingly were provided with rifles sawed off so short as to be concealed under their blankets. At a given signal, which was to be the presentation of a wampum belt in a particular manner by Pontiac to the commandant during the conference, the armed Indians were to massacre all the officers, then open the gates to admit the main body of the warriors, who were to be waiting without for the completion of the slaughter and destruction of the fort.

An Indian woman betrayed the secret. She had been employed by the commandant to make him a pair of moccasins out of elk skin, and brought them into the fort finished on the evening of the day on which Pontiac made his appearance and application for a council. The major paid her generously, requested her to make more from the residue of the skin, and then dismissed her. She went to the outer door, but there stopped and loitered about as if her errand was still unperformed. A servant asked her what she wanted, but she made no answer. The major himself observed her and ordered her to be called in, when, after some hesitation, she replied to his inquiries, that as he had always treated her kindly, she did not like to take away the elk skin which he valued so highly-she could never bring it back. The commandant's curiosity was, of course, excited, and he pressed the examination

until the woman at length disclosed everything which had come to her knowledge.

Her information was not received with implicit credulity, but the major thought it prudent to employ the night in taking active measures for defense. A strict guard was kept upon the ramparts during the night, it being apprehended that the Indians might anticipate the preparations now known to have been made for the next day. Nothing, however, was heard after dark, except the sound of singing and dancing in the Indian camp, which they always indulged in upon the eve of any great enterprise.

In the morning, Pontiac and his warriors sang their war-song and danced their war-dance, and then repaired to the fort. They were admitted without hesitation, and conducted to the council house, where Major Gladwyn and his officers were prepared to receive them. They perceived at the gate, and as they passed through the streets, an unusual activity and movement among the troops. The garrison was under arms, the guards doubled, and the officers were armed with swords and pistols. Pontiac inquired of the British commander, what was the cause of this unusual appearance. He answered that it was proper to keep the young men to their duty, lest they should become idle and ignorant. The business of the council then commenced, and Pontiac proceeded to address Major Gladwyn. His speech was bold and menacing, and his manner and gesticulations vehement, and they became still more so as he approached the critical moment. When he was upon the point of presenting the belt to Major Gladwyn, and all was breathless expectation, the drums at the door of the council house suddenly rolled the charge, the guards leveled their pieces, and the officers drew their swords from their scabbards. Pontiac, whose eagle eye had never quailed in battle, turned pale and trembled. This unexpected and decisive proof that his treachery was discovered entirely disconcerted, him. He delivered the belt in the usual manner, and thus failed to give his party the concerted signal of attack; while his warriors stood looking at each other in astonishment, Major Gladwyn immediately approached Pontiac, and drawing aside his blanket, discovered the shortened rifle, and then, after stating his knowledge of his plan, advised him to leave the fort before his young men should discover their design and massacre them. He assured him, as he had promised him safety, that his person should be held unharmed until he had advanced beyond the pickets. The Indians immediately retired, and as soon as they had passed the gate, they gave the yell and fired upon the garrison. Several persons living without the fort were then murdered, and hostilities commenced.

The cannibalism of the savages, at this time, may be learned from the fact, that a respectable Frenchman was invited to their camp to partake of some soup. Having finished his repast he was told that he had eaten a part of an English woman, a Mrs.