said payments, and allowing thereof upon account, a sufficient warrant. And so we bid you very heartily farewell.
“Given at our Court of St. James’s the twelfth day of October 1705, in the fourth year of our reign.
Besides this, he received a grant of £50 for building the fort, and a rent from government of £23, 16s. for the Island of Dursey.
On Fontaine’s side, a Scotchman, John M‘Liney, and a Frenchman, Paul Roussier, greatly distinguished themselves — but none more than Madame Fontaine, who showed no sign of fear; though a military officer residing in the house was in such trepidation that in loading a musket, he put the ball next the touch-hole, and rammed down two cartridges over and above. She encouraged everybody with pious and courageous words, and acted as aide-de-camp and surgeon. The engagement (which was, in fact, a siege, or a storming of the buildings), lasted from eight in the morning till four in the afternoon, when the French decamped with the loss of three killed, besides seven wounded. They spread in their own country a salutary terror of Fontaine and his battery. In 1705, when Fontaine was in London on the business of his fort and pension (the guest of John Arnauld), a privateer cautiously approached Bear Haven. “But,” writes Fontaine, “my wife was on the alert, she had all the cannons loaded, and one of them fired off to shew that all was in readiness for defence. When they saw this they veered off, landed on Great Island, stole some cattle, and sailed away.”
All was tolerably quiet till the month of October 1708 — a company of soldiers was quartered in the Half Barony, and the captain was a boarder with the gallant refugee family. On the 7th day of the month he was absent. A French privateer came in the evening to reconnoitre and to try stratagem where an assault had failed. She hoisted English colours, which deceived the subaltern, who was temporarily resident. This ensign hastened to get on board to drink with the ship’s officers, and was taken prisoner. He was regaled to his heart’s content and speedily became intoxicated, when he revealed the circumstance that there was no officer in Fontaine’s house. A great portion of the crew were Irishmen, and when they landed an attacking party at midnight, their guide was a man named Sullivan, to whose family Fontaine had shown great generosity. They did not succeed in surprising the household. Fontaine hailed them through a speaking-trumpet. No answer being returned, they were fired upon. They then separated into six detachments, and began to set fire to the offices and stacks; the household, under the directions of Madame Fontaine, protected the dwelling-house from combustion. The men of the family discharged their firearms at intervals, but at random, on account of the smoke from the burning premises. The enemy, with ignited straw tied to long poles, continued to do all the mischief they could; and some of them with crowbars made a breach in the wall of the house. This, however, did not serve their purpose, because the constant firing from the house led them to suppose that it was defended by at least twenty soldiers; they therefore kept at some distance and wasted their ammunition. At length they summoned the besieged to surrender, and offered good quarter. The firing ceased, and Fontaine advanced to the breach for a parley, when one of the Irish lieutenants took aim at him and would have killed him, if Peter Fontaine had not promptly pulled his father aside. This treachery made the Fontaines resume firing, which did not relax for a quarter of an hour. The enemy then threatened to throw in a barrel of gunpowder and blow them up; to which Fontaine replied, that he had enough powder to blow himself and them all into the air together. Terms were then agreed to, by which the enemy got the plunder, and the Fontaines and their followers life and liberty. The brigands secured the plunder; but they made Fontaine, his sons James and Peter, and two servants, their prisoners.
Against this violation of a treaty Fontaine protested; but the commander replied, “Your name has been so notorious among the privateers of St Maloes, that I dare not return to the vessel without you. The captain’s order was peremptory, to bring you on board dead or alive.” When he appeared on deck the crew shouted “Vive le Roi,” and repeated it three times in grand chorus. Fontaine called out to them in a loud tone, “Gentlemen, how long is it since victories have been so rare in France that you sing in triumph on such an occasion as this? A glorious achievement truly! Eighty men, accustomed to warfare, have actually been so successful as to compel one poor minister, four cowherds, and five children, to surrender upon terms.”
In the cabin Fontaine represented to the captain that his being taken prisoner was a breach of treaty, and that the Government would retaliate on French prisoners
