King William's War Read online

  For their part Dutch traders had argued for years that there were plenty of other sources from which the natives could obtain firearms. New England traders routinely sold muskets to their Mahican allies, the French traded and sold weapons to their Canadian allies, and the traders of New Sweden even went so far as to sell small cannons to their Susquehannock trading partners and instruct them in their use. So why should Dutch traders suffer by banning the sale of such items?

  It was, of course, a practical economic argument, but the sudden upsurge of firearms into the Mohawk camp indicated more than simple disregard of company regulations in order to appease the traders of the region. There was also another element at work. Although the restrictions did not differentiate between native nations, there was clearly a distinction. In 1642 a series of conflicts broke out between the Dutch and the Delaware-speaking river tribes along the lower Hudson valley. The matter quickly became perilous for the sparsely inhabited colony, and on several occasions its inhabitants were forced to abandon their villages in order to seek shelter within the confines of New Amsterdam. Fort Orange, however, was spared from the violence, primarily due to its location within Mohawk territory and its trade connections to the Five Nations. In fact, the sale and distribution of firearms to the Mohawk during this period seems to have had the tacit approval of the governor of New Holland, William Kieft.6 Given the weak position of New Netherland, Governor Kieft had decided to make firm allies of the Iroquois in hopes of using their influence and military might to hold the other native threats to the colony in check. If the Mohawk then wanted to use these weapons to obtain their furs from neighboring tribes, well then so much the better for the Dutch. In either case Kieft could pursue his policy and if need be shift blame for the whole thing on renegade traders or the policies of a foreign colony, several of whom were known to be hostile toward New Netherland.7

  Kieft’s approach bore quick fruit, for not long after a substantial number of guns were in Mohawk hands they struck at the governor’s enemies under the auspices of laying tribute on these tribes. Nor was the meaning lost when the Mohawk sat beside the Dutch during the peace negotiations a few years later. Although Fort Orange had not been affected by the conflict, it was not clear what would happen to it if New Netherland were to collapse. With their sights set on conquering the western fur trade, the Mohawk wanted no uncertainties surrounding this vital post. Peace between the Dutch and the River Indians was the easiest means of securing this goal—a peace motivated by the threat of full-scale Mohawk intervention if need be.8

  Armed with Dutch muskets the Iroquois began slowly choking off the supply of furs to Montreal. A parade of war parties were launched toward the Ottawa River, the traditional trade route from Lake Huron to Three Rivers and Quebec, such that one party would relieve the next, making any voyage down this waterway the likely target of an Iroquois ambush. The banks of the St. Lawrence were another favorite target of Iroquois war parties, either by way of Lake Ontario or the Lake Champlain-Richelieu River corridor. In response to the latter, Governor Montmagny erected a fort at the mouth of the Richelieu River in August 1643. Built in a simple palisade fashion the fort was besieged almost the day it was completed by 350 Iroquois warriors. Supported by cannon fire from the small vessels in the river the French garrison beat off the attack, but it soon became clear that any thoughts the French entertained toward cutting one of the Iroquois’s primary invasion routes into New France with the erection of this stronghold was misguided. The fort and its small garrison were strong enough to defend themselves but were too weak to close the Richelieu River to Iroquois war parties who simply took their canoes out of the water and bypassed the structure. Nor were the Huron and Algonquin villages safe refuge as raids against these locations pointed out, and with the establishment of Montreal in 1642, the Iroquois added yet another target to their list.9

  By 1644 Iroquois efforts were beginning to take their toll on New France and its allies. “The Iroquois,” Jesuit father Hierosme Lalemant wrote to his superiors in France,

  have closed all the passages and avenues of the River that leads to Kebec [Quebec]; and of those whom the necessity of obtaining goods from France had compelled to close their eyes to these dangers, many have fallen therein. Most of the others have come back entirely naked, or pierced with arquebus balls, after having escaped seven or eight times from the hands and the cruelties of those barbarians. There was no less desolation throughout the country. Nearly every day, unfortunate women were killed in their fields.

  The villages were in a state of continual alarm, and all the troops that were raised in good numbers to pursue the enemy over the frontiers were defeated and routed; captives were taken by hundreds, and frequently we had no other couriers and bearers of these dismal tidings but poor unfortunates who had escaped from the midst of the flames, whose half-burnt bodies and mutilated fingers convinced us, more than their words, of the misfortune that had fallen on them and on their comrades.

  The Algonquin, frequent targets of the Iroquois efforts, had abandoned their homes and hunting grounds to seek refuge with the Huron, who were also beginning to feel the strain of constant warfare. Although Lalemant was speaking specifically about the Huron, his words reflected the state of the French colony as well. The fur trade was in shambles, and the constant “hit and run” raids had left Montreal, Three Rivers, and the smaller French villages that dotted the shores of the St. Lawrence in a state of constant alarm. Crops went unattended for lack of troops to guard those tending to the fields, and now famine, an enemy far more feared than the Iroquois, was beginning to take hold.10

  Although New France and her allies scored a number of successes during this period they were too few and too small in scale to dissuade the enemy. Nor was it possible to launch a major offensive against the Iroquois that might have halted the onslaught. First, given the lack of intelligence as to the enemy’s numbers it was not clear what kind of force was required to achieve these ends. Second, it was not clear where such a strike should fall. Third, and perhaps more importantly, was the lack of resources available by the colony. The entire population of the country at this time was no more than 1,200 souls. Even should sufficient numbers and resources be gathered for a campaign, and the colony’s native allies convinced to join in a like fashion, it would leave both parties vulnerable should the attack miscarry. Simple risk analysis dictated that the best course of action was to conserve their resources in what was turning into a war of attrition.

  By the spring of 1645 both the French and their Huron and Algonquin allies were looking for peace. An opportunity presented itself in May when a Huron war party returning from a recent foray delivered a pair of Mohawk prisoners to Montmagny “to do with as he thought best.” After a brief discussion with his allies Montmagny released one of the prisoners and dispatched him with an invitation for the Mohawk to come to Three Rivers and discuss peace. The gesture proved fruitful when the prisoner and a Mohawk delegation arrived at Three Rivers on July 5, 1645. When the canoe carrying the Iroquois ambassador, Kiotseaeton, beached itself before the walls of the town he courageously stepped ashore. “My brothers, I have left my country to come and see you,” he shouted to the apprehensive French watching from the fort’s ramparts. “I was told, on my departure, that I was going to seek death, and that I would never again see my country. But I have willingly exposed myself for the good of peace. I come therefore to enter into the designs of the French, of the Huron, and of the Algonquin. I come to make known to you the thoughts of all my country.”

  The words set off an instant cheer and a salute from the fort’s guns. Accompanying this delegation was a young Frenchman, Guillaume Couture, who had been taken prisoner with Jesuit father Isaac Jogues a few years before. Couture soon informed the governor of Three Rivers, Francois de Chanflour, of the Mohawk’ sincere intentions to negotiate a peace treaty, whereupon Chanflour immediately dispatched a messenger to Governor Montmagny in Quebec and prepared his guests a cordial reception.

&
nbsp; Montmagny arrived a week later along with a number of Algonquin and Huron representatives. Kiotseaeton opened the ceremonies by presenting sixteen belts of wampum to the governor, each accompanied by a dramatic rendition that was so impressive one witness recorded, “In a word, I have never seen anything better done than this acting.” The next day the governor responded in kind with a series of gifts and an explanation behind each gift. When the ceremonies finally concluded a truce had been agreed upon—one which for the first time also included the French allies.

  It would seem that peace between the Mohawk, the Huron, the Algonquin, and the French was on the verge of becoming a reality, but the Iroquois had not finished playing their diplomatic cards. In a private council with the governor, Kiotseaeton put forth that although the peace would publically include the Algonquin, the Mohawk wished to include a secret provision that excluded them. Montmagny initially rejected the idea, but in a second meeting the next day a number of Jesuits convinced the governor to accept Kiotseaeton’s proposal. The only stipulation to the agreement, which was clearly an attempt on the part of the Jesuits to recruit converts, was that Christian Algonquin were to be excluded. Strangely, exactly how the Iroquois were to tell the difference was never discussed.

  Kiotseaeton and his delegation departed for Mohawk territory the next day, accompanied by a pair of Frenchmen who were to deliver the governor’s message to the tribe’s sachems. Both sides agreed that once emissaries had contacted all parties to inform them of the peace proceedings they would meet again at Three Rivers in the fall to finalize the treaty.

  For Montmagny the event was a double-edged sword. In the short term the colony, and its allies, desperately needed peace to recover its strength, and for the first time the terms of this peace included at least part of New France’s allies. In the long term, however, the governor was skeptical. Thus far only the Mohawk had come forward, implying that the rest of the confederacy had not changed their attitude. No mention had been made of a commercial arrangement between the two sides, and without this it was difficult to see how any agreement, whatever the terms, could last. Nor was such an agreement, even if it should come to fruition, in the best interest of the colony. What the Iroquois could not take by force they were likely to achieve by diplomacy. A trade arrangement between the French and the Iroquois would allow the latter to slowly assume the role of middlemen between the Huron and the Algonquin, not only through coercion and threats or, in the case of the betrayed Algonquin, by direct force, but by introducing the pro-French tribes to the cheaper Dutch goods at Fort Orange. On the other hand, if the Five Nations were to continue their current military assault they might well accomplish the same results. In either case, it left the Iroquois in control of the fur trade and New France isolated. For the moment, peace was the priority, but Montmagny was under no illusions; it was nothing more than a reprieve in what was to be a long struggle.

  As agreed upon, the representatives from each nation arrived at Three Rivers during the late summer and fall of 1645. The Mohawk ambassadors were the last to arrive in mid-September a few days after Montmagny. With a hundred Huron and Algonquin warriors about him Montmagny met with the nine Mohawk representatives in an event never seen before in New France. Apprehension soon gave way to accord as both sides exchanged prisoners and presented gifts backed by dramatic orations, which were made even longer as the interpreters echoed the speeches in four different languages. Last to go before the council was an Algonquin chief by the name of Jean Baptiste Atironta. Atironta called upon the Mohawk to follow the provisions of the treaty, and then in a bold shout he concluded the ceremony with, “It is done. We are brothers.”

  It would seem that peace between the Mohawk, Huron, and French had finally been realized, with the Algonquin the secret losers. Representatives were dispatched to each nation and it was agreed that trading posts would be set up within Mohawk territory and at Three Rivers to soothe the commercial rivalry between the two powers. And although the remaining elements of the Iroquois Confederacy were not included in the treaty, the Mohawk ambassadors had promised to speak with the other nations in an attempt to negotiate a larger agreement in the future.

  Politically the Mohawk had achieved a commanding victory at the expense of New France’s need for peace. Through their war of a thousand cuts they and their Iroquois brothers had weakened the French colony and its allies and then preyed on this weakness in dictating peace terms that divided their enemy’s alliance. The path before the Mohawk was filled with both military and political opportunity. They could honor the peace terms while the remaining elements of the confederacy continued their attacks. This left the Mohawk free to work the political elements of Iroquois policy by further dividing the French-Huron-Algonquin alliance through the agreed-upon trade arrangements. In the meantime their Iroquois brothers to the west could militarily strain the French alliance until, in one fashion or another, it broke or until the Mohawk decided to reject the peace treaty and reenter the fray.

  As it was both Iroquois political and military plans would prove fruitful. The fall of 1645 and much of 1646 was calmer for New France and her allies. The Mohawk held firm to their word and refrained from their attacks. It was true that the other elements of the confederacy continued with some sporadic efforts, but the reprieve made for a much more manageable situation. The fur trade increased and the crops were planted and harvested with little interference. On September 12, 1646, eighty Huron canoes loaded with beaver pelts pulled ashore at Montreal. The largest fur convoy ever seen in New France had proceeded to Montreal unmolested in what was viewed as a product of the new peace treaty. With the arrival of the fur convoy a general feeling of relief took hold in the French colony. “This peace, together with the trade which the country now has,” wrote Father Isaac Jogues, who had just returned from his appointment as one of the French representatives to the Mohawk, “causes a notable change in its appearance, an increase in the number of inhabitants, and greater comfort in all respects.” Jogues, who had but a month to live, would never see the frightening times that lie ahead.

  The early indications of storm clouds came from a Huron war chief by the name of Tandihetsi. In January 1646, Tandihetsi, who had a number of relatives among the Algonquin, warned these tribes of “the secret of his country” and urged them to assemble at Three Rivers for a council to discuss this matter. He made clear the secret provisions of the previous years’ peace treaty and warned that three hundred Mohawk were planning on striking the Algonquin villages within a few months. A number of Algonquin heeded his call, but with little proof and both the Mohawk and, more importantly, the French discrediting Tandihetsi’s testimony, the matter was soon dropped. Still, the event did little to promote harmony within the French alliance.

  Even with the secret provisions of the 1645 treaty in force the Mohawk refrained from attacking the Algonquin. Instead they promoted the peace treaty and abided by its conditions. In the spring of 1646 Father Jogues, who had previously been captured and tortured by the Mohawk, returned to the people who had tormented him. Jogues, and another previous captive, Couture, acted as French representatives to the Mohawk. The father was to establish a mission within Mohawk territory from which trade could be carried on between the two nations. For their part the Mohawk treated Jogues as an honored guest and listened closely to his proposals that the tribe should bring the other Iroquois nations into the peace treaty by restricting their access to Montreal and Fort Orange.

  The Mohawk took Jogues’s comments to heart because from their perspective the success of a French trade mission in their homeland not only accomplished Iroquois goals but put the Mohawk at the head of the confederacy. This tribe, because of its easternmost position, which placed its borders against New France to the north and New Netherland on the southeast, considered itself the door to the Iroquois nations. The burgeoning fur trade at Fort Orange, which they controlled, and the supply of Dutch firearms and powder that came from this, reinforced this belief. If they could now a
ugment this position with access to the French fur trade it was clear that they would ascend to the head of the confederacy. Thus, although the ultimate goal was for the Iroquois to control access to the French and the Dutch fur markets, within the Mohawk nation itself there was another goal—that of becoming the middlemen to the rest of the Five Nations.

  In fact, this approach explains why the Mohawk, when presented the opportunity, were so quick to negotiate a separate peace when they of all the Iroquois nations had suffered most at the hands of the French. By securing peace with New France and her allies, or at least some of them, the Mohawk accomplished two ends. Militarily, their Iroquois brothers were still engaged, keeping alive the threat of a larger war that New France could ill afford, and diplomatically, with the possibility of a broader conflict still looming before them, both New France and her allies would turn to the Mohawk to remove this threat by convincing the rest of the Five Nations to enter into a larger peace treaty.

  In exchange for securing this peace the Mohawk would be in a position to extract concessions from the French. These concessions would center about excluding other tribes from the French fur trade and the need to use the Mohawk to funnel European goods toward their Iroquois brothers in order to maintain the peace. In the end the Iroquois would grow stronger, which would make New France even less desirous of an open rupture with the Five Nations and more agreeable to concessions that concentrated the fur trade even further into Iroquois hands. With the fur trade under Iroquois control the Five Nations would then be in a position to force both the Dutch and the French into a bidding war. And at the center of all of this would be the ultimate middlemen, the Mohawk.