King William's War Read online

  Leisler’s relationship with Albany would come to loggerheads the following year, but in the meantime the change in government brought about a state of confusion in regard to the defense of the colony, just as it had in New England. Many of the troops brought by Andros deserted, adding to the already critical manpower shortage along the frontier. Money was available at first from what was taken in by Nicholson’s government, but it soon became in short supply with the needs thrust upon New York as news of war with France called the safety of both Albany and New York City into question. More importantly, the undercurrent of distrust between Leisler’s revolutionary party and its political opponents colored far too many decisions and called the unity of the colony into question at the precise moment that it was needed the most.11

  The Glorious Revolution also struck to the south in Maryland but in a far milder form. Protestant zeal and rumors of a Popish plot circulated through the colony, leading to a number of disturbances and several political confrontations with the governor, Lord Baltimore, but little came of it. London responded to the colony’s complaints by replacing Baltimore with Lionel Copley, although this did little to solve the problem. Farther south in Virginia and the Carolinas the revolution had even less of an effect and little bearing on the leadership and conduct of these colonies in prosecuting the upcoming conflict with France.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Wabanaki and the Iroquois

  IN APRIL 1689, the Abenaki returned to the warpath. Their first target was Saco Falls and the nearby farms. While small raids continued for the next several months, a more important target, Dover, New Hampshire, came to the forefront. It was not so much the town that was the focus of the attack as it was the town’s leader, Major Richard Waldron. Waldron had a checkered history with the tribes of the area. During King Philip’s War, Waldron had maintained a peace treaty with the Dover and Penacook tribes of southern New Hampshire. The move insulated this area during the conflict, and both sides maintained the peace as promised. Although the Penacook abided by their end of the treaty, in the fall of 1676 several hundred refugees from King Philip’s War in Massachusetts fled north to seek this tribe’s protection. It was a difficult and conflicting choice for the Penacook, as it violated the terms of the treaty with Waldron, which called for them not to harbor any enemies of the English, but at the same time native tradition called for such acts. Word of this reached the governor of Massachusetts, who sent two companies to the area to seize the fleeing rebels. When the troops arrived at Dover in early September they found several hundred Penacook accompanied by Philip’s refugees engaged in trading with Waldron. Although the natives had brought their weapons, there were no indications of anything but peaceful activity.

  Captains Sill and Hawthorne presented their orders to Waldron and informed him that they were going to seize the refugees by force. Waldron, who had seen his share of fights and was sure that he would see another large one if the officers carried through with their plan, presented an alternative. He would stage a mock fight between his native visitors and the troops. Once the tribesmen fired, the armed English would be free to seize them. The plan worked perfectly. Not suspecting any foul play the natives assumed their role in the sham fight and fired their muskets into the air as part of the production. Once they did the Massachusetts troops swooped in and seized almost all of the unsuspecting natives. The refugees were sorted out, and some two hundred in all were sent to Boston. Seven of these refugees were hanged for their part in the war, while the rest were sold into slavery. The Penacook and the other southern natives who were known to be friendly were given back their arms and sent on their way.1

  Over a decade had passed since the incident, but it was not forgotten by those who it was perpetrated upon. Reminders of this deceit came from the Wabanaki, who were interested in pushing back against the English. Together, a wide group of native warriors assembled to seek their revenge on Waldron, and to accomplish this task they would employ a sham of their own.

  On the evening of June 27, 1689, pairs of native women approached each of Dover’s five garrison houses. There were three houses on the north side of the town (Otis, Heard, Waldron) and two on the south side (Peter Coffin and his son). These fortified two-story homes more resembled blockhouses than dwellings. Thick wooden walls and firing ports were supported by barred doors and a seven-foot wooden palisade that circled the structure. These houses, a necessity on a hostile frontier, served as nightly shelter for the settlers. The women asked for shelter for the evening. As it was raining outside, nothing was thought of the request, and the visitors were given accommodations in four of the five houses, including Major Waldron’s, where he gave his consent over the objections of several townspeople.

  Lying in the woods just outside of the town were several hundred Penacook and Wabanaki warriors led by the war chiefs Mesandowit and Kankamagus. The rainy evening all but assured that they would go unnoticed as they watched for signs of activity. In the early-morning hours they saw what they were looking for. The women had slipped away unnoticed and opened the doors to the garrison houses. The signal was given and the warriors rushed forward. Waldron’s house was one of the first stormed. The old major barely had time to throw on a pair of pants and draw his sword when the intruders were upon him. With sword in hand he cleared the attackers from his room and forced them out into the hallway. At this point Waldron turned to go back for his pistol and musket when a young warrior struck him in the back of the head. He was then tied to a chair and placed upon the dining room table. At this point the offended wreaked their vengeance upon the old man, subjecting him to a lengthy torture before finally contenting themselves by making him fall upon his own sword.2

  Several of the other blockhouses fell quickly as well. In Coffin Sr.’s garrison the inhabitants were spared but the house was pillaged. Otis’s house fell just as fast. Otis and several others were killed, but the bulk of the inhabitants were taken prisoner. At Heard’s house the defenders were more fortunate. One of the garrison, William Wentworth, was awoken by a barking dog and got up to investigate. He arrived at just the instant the attackers were preparing to enter the opened door. Wentworth managed to outrace the attackers and close the door, bracing it from repeated attempts to break it down while he raised the alarm. The effort allowed the garrison to fight off the attackers. At the younger Coffin’s house they had refused to allow the women to stay the evening so, locked down, the blockhouse easily repelled a few half-hearted assaults. It was not until his assailants brought Coffin’s father forward and threatened to kill him that the doors to Coffin’s house were opened and its occupants seized.

  With the fighting over, Mesandowit and Kankamagus placed the captives in one house and pillaged the town in search of booty. Half a dozen homes were put to the torch, as well as the nearby mills. It was a catastrophic few hours for Dover. Twenty-three of its citizens lay dead in the wet autumn night, while another twenty-nine were led off into captivity. The war party departed the next morning. Not long after a letter arrived from Boston warning Waldron of an imminent attack. Relief followed a few days later in the form of fifty men from nearby Ipswich, but by then the Wabanaki and Penacook braves were long gone.3

  A month later the French and the Wabanaki launched a far more ambitious plan. This one was aimed at capturing Fort Charles at Pemaquid. In this they were inadvertently aided by the change in government that came with the Glorious Revolution. The turmoil resulted in over half the garrison of Fort Charles having left or been recalled to testify as to their loyalty to King William. The French and their allies were well aware of this and took advantage of their opportunity.

  Led by Castin and Jesuit father Peter Thury, who had recently built a mission at Penobscot, some three hundred Wabanaki took to their canoes. Following the coast the war party set ashore at New Harbor along Pemaquid Neck. The dozen or so homes in this area were deserted. The next day, August 2, scouts brought in a trio of English prisoners captured along the New Harbor road. Under the thr
eat of death one of these men, John Starkey, informed Castin and Thury that half of the garrison of Fort Charles had gone to Pemaquid Falls to help gather the harvest and that the men of the nearby village were out in their fields as well. Armed with this intelligence Castin laid out a plan. Half of the raiders would attack Fort Charles and the nearby town while the other half proceeded to Pemaquid Falls to ambush any reinforcements that might come to the aid of the fort. The plan may have been one of the best executed during all of King William’s War.

  Castin led the forces against the town and the fort. Creeping as close as possible without being seen, they suddenly burst upon the open ground. Although the townsfolk were caught by complete surprise, Fort Charles was not. The fort’s commander, Lt. James Weems, ordered his garrison to fire on the advancing Wabanaki warriors but to little avail. The attackers were simply too fast and too determined. The town was quickly cut off from the fort and its inhabitants either seized or killed. Despite Weem’s use of the fort’s cannon, the Wabanaki secured several stone houses near the fort. From there they poured a fusillade upon the stronghold’s defenders. The attacking warriors were also quick to discern a large rock not far from one of the fort’s walls. A number of braves secured the boulder and began to pour fire down on the fort from this location.4

  It was a nearly impossible situation for Weems. His garrison of fourteen men was insufficient to effectively man the cannon along the walls, and it was too small to deal with a possible threat to different parts of the fort’s perimeter. Within the first few hours of the siege several of his troops had been killed or wounded, making the defense of the structure even more difficult. Around sunset a barrel of gunpowder “was accidentally exploded by the firing of a cannon.” The flash temporarily blinded the fort’s commandant but did not deter him. As the sun went down the fear was that the enemy would scale the fort’s walls. To prevent this he ordered his men to occasionally throw a grenade over the wall to discourage anyone from storming the fortifications.

  The occasional thump of an exploding grenade and sporadic firefights took place over the course of the night until at daylight the Wabanaki resumed their barrage in earnest. For Weems the situation was coming to a head. Over half his garrison had been killed or wounded and he was being attacked along two fronts. “Towards eleven o’clock,” he later wrote of his decision, “there being no Christian within a hundred miles of the fort, relief being hopeless, and the surviving men worn out with fatigue, the lieutenant on their solicitations and those of the women and children, agreed to negotiate for surrender on condition of life.”5

  Weems, the garrison, and the civilians within the fort were allowed honors of war. They marched out of the stronghold with their arms and possessions and boarded a small sloop that had been captured by the attackers. Within a few days they were in Boston telling their story.

  The other element of the attack proved successful as well. Thomas Gyles, who had taken half of the fort’s garrison to Pemaquid Falls, heard the cannon from the fort. Gyles told his son John that he hoped it was good news, perhaps even the arrival of the reinforcements Lt. Weems had requested. No sooner had the sound of the cannon faded when it was replaced by a scattered volley from the nearby woods and a rising yell from forty Wabanaki braves. With a quick surge it was over. Thomas Gyles and several others fell attempting to repel the attack, while the rest, including John Gyles, were captured and eventually carried back to Penobscot.

  As the men in the fields responded to the alarm and made their way back to the fort they rushed into ambushes set by Castin and Thury’s troops. Few, if any, of the English reached their objective, and not long after, the Wabanaki warriors were fanning out, burning down houses and farms as they went. When it was over Fort Charles lay in Wabanaki hands; some two-dozen farms and homes had been destroyed and perhaps as many as two hundred English settlers had been slain or captured—all at the cost of one slightly wounded Abenaki brave. The following day Castin burned Fort Charles before he and his war party sailed back to Penobscot aboard a pair of captured English sloops.6

  The news of Pemaquid, coupled with the raid on Dover, set off alarms throughout New England. Residents east of Falmouth abandoned their lands upon hearing the reports and congregated at Fort Loyal. The Maine frontier was in shambles. Small bands of Wabanaki probed the English settlements, looking for their next opportunity. The new government of Massachusetts, which had in large part been responsible for the lack of a proper garrison at Fort Charles, was paralyzed. “We have much division among us,” one correspondent informed the Board of Trade. While another wrote to his friend that “We are in great confusion and without any government.”7

  After raiding Dover, bands of French and Indians attacked Scarborough and Exeter, New Hampshire, as well as Saco, Maine. Local militia rallied to the cause, but they were too few in number to guard the frontier or take offensive action in an attempt to thwart further attacks. In coping with the assaults a stream of requests for aid were sent to the Massachusetts government. Confusion eventually gave way to action. Volunteers were called for and drafts made out of the colony’s militia. Two expeditions were organized. The first, which set out from Dover in late August, consisted of six hundred militia under the command of Major Jeremiah Swayne. Swayne’s orders were to seek out and attack the Wabanaki while securing the frontier by aiding threatened garrisons in the area. Given that it was autumn and that many of the men in small towns along the coast would be needed to bring in the harvest, this last task was of primary importance.8

  Swayne spread his detachment across the coast from Haverhill to Casco. Two companies were sent to the latter location to reinforce the garrison there and cooperate with the second planned expedition, while the rest were scattered in detachments throughout the Massachusetts-New Hampshire frontier. It was of course impossible to defend the entire frontier from Haverhill, Massachusetts, to Falmouth, Maine, with six hundred men. Proof of this came when a sizable French and Indian war party struck Oyster River (Durham), New Hampshire. From the nearby woods the raiders had surveyed the town for three days. To their delight, on the morning of September 13, 1689, they watched as several dozen soldiers marched out of the town headed south. The attackers gave the detachment time to move off and then executed their plan. As at Pemaquid, some of the raiders concentrated on the men tending to their fields, while the rest would attempt to seize one of the town’s garrison houses, which they noted were lightly defended. In both cases they were successful. The men harvesting corn were caught by surprise and a number fell before reaching their firearms. One of the garrison houses, defended only by a pair of boys, made a determined stand before falling to the war party.

  When news of the attack reached Captain Andrew Gardner, who with a detachment of his company had left Oyster River earlier that day bound for Dover, he immediately turned his troops around. By the time they reached the site of the attack it was far too late. Some eighteen settlers, many women and children, either lay dead or had been led away into captivity. There was little to be done but issue orders that garrison houses had to have a minimum complement of defenders at all times and to order the troops and colonists to stay vigilant.9

  The second expedition launched by the New England colonies was under the command of Major Benjamin Church. Church was a well-known officer from King Philip’s War who had organized the first true ranging company, which emulated many native tactics and styles of wilderness fighting. Church’s force of 250 men, which was half Mohegan and half colonial recruits, would sail directly for Falmouth and from there launch offensive operations against the hostile tribes in the area. When Church’s force reached Casco Bay on the evening of September 20, his plan was to use information he had just obtained to launch an attack on a nearby Wabanaki village. The next morning, an hour after sunrise, these plans were quickly tossed aside when a dozen shots could be heard coming from a farmhouse near the base of the Falmouth Peninsula, a little over a mile and a half away.

  Church consulted with Capt
ain Nathaniel Hall, who was in command of Fort Loyal, having just arrived a few days before with part of Swayne’s troops. Church, with his detachment and a portion of the fort’s garrison, moved forward to investigate. Unfortunately, Church soon found out that a good number of his native allies had been issued the wrong ammunition for their muskets. These forces did not advance with the major as the garrison searched for suitable ammunition to equip them. To the surprise of Church and his men the detachment’s vanguard under Captain Hall immediately came into contact with a force of four hundred French and Indians near the outskirts of an orchard. When the two sides began to trade fire Church moved forward with the rest of his force.

  It was now the attackers’ turn to be surprised. After having watched the town and fort for several days the sudden influx of English troops caught the French and Indian force off guard. Strung out across a field and an orchard that one participant would recall “was a pritty convenient place for [a] skirmish,” a heated exchange took hold for the next several hours as both sides probed and tested the strength of their opponent. Five hours into the engagement Church gathered together a small force and had them circle around to fall on the enemy’s flank. The plan worked and the French and Indian war party broke and retreated into the forest. Short on ammunition and his men exhausted, Church did not bother to pursue. The defenders had lost eleven killed and as many wounded but had likely saved Fort Loyal.10