As if suddenly smitten La Tour staggered back; His hand grasped his sword-hilt, His forehead grew black. He sprang on the deck Of his shallop again. "We cruise now for vengeance! Give away!" cried Estienne. "Massachusetts shall hear Of the Huguenot's wrong, And from island and creekside Her fishers shall throng! Pentagoet shall rue What his Papists have done, When his palisades echo The Puritan's gun!" Oh, the loveliest of heavens Hung tenderly o'er him, There were waves in the sunshine, And green isles before him; But a pale hand was beckoning The Huguenot on; And in blackness and ashes Behind was St. John! JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. The rivalry between the colonists for the fur trade grew steadily more bitter, and in 1690 (King William's War) Canada undertook the conquest of New York and destroyed a number of frontier towns. The English made some reprisals; Sir William Phips capturing Acadia and Major Peter Schuyler leading a raid into the country south of Montreal, where he defeated a considerable body of French and Indians under Valrennes, in a spirited fight at La Prairie. THE BATTLE OF LA PRAIRIE [1691] That was a brave old epoch, Our age of chivalry, When the Briton met the Frenchman At the fight of La Prairie; And the manhood of New England, And the Netherlanders true And Mohawks sworn, gave battle To the Bourbon's lilied blue. That was a brave old governor Who gathered his array, And stood to meet, he knew not what, On that alarming day. Eight hundred, amid rumors vast That filled the wild wood's gloom, With all New England's flower of youth, Fierce for New France's doom. And the brave old half five hundred! Theirs should in truth be fame; Borne down the savage Richelieu, On what emprise they came! Your hearts are great enough, O few: Only your numbers fail,-- New France asks more for conquerors, All glorious though your tale. It was a brave old battle That surged around the fort, When D'Hosta fell in charging, And 'twas deadly strife and short; When in the very quarters They contested face and hand, And many a goodly fellow Crimsoned yon La Prairie sand. And those were brave old orders The colonel gave to meet That forest force with trees entrenched Opposing the retreat: "De Callière's strength's behind us, And in front your Richelieu; We must go straightforth at them; There is nothing else to do." And then the brave old story comes, Of Schuyler and Valrennes, When "Fight" the British colonel called, Encouraging his men, "For the Protestant Religion And the honor of our King!"-- "Sir, I am here to answer you!" Valrennes cried, forthstepping.