King William's War Page 5

  A few days later the English sailed up the Hudson and placed a similar summons before the commander of Fort Orange, who consented without delay. The only resistance encountered throughout the colony was at New Amstel on the Delaware River. A pair of English frigates and one hundred English regulars arrived before the settlement and convinced all but the fort’s commander, Governor Alexander d’Hinoyossa, and his thirty-man garrison to accept their terms. D’Hinoyossa’s small fourteen-gun wooden fort was quickly pounded into submission by a few broadsides from the thirty-six-gun frigate HMS Guinea before the fort and its storehouses were pillaged and the tiny Dutch garrison was led off to captivity.10

  By mid-September the conquest was complete. New Netherland was no more. For the Iroquois, who quietly watched the proceedings, it was a disaster. True, they had signed a treaty of friendship with the English shortly after the surrender of Fort Orange, but this had simply been done for expediency and to allow trade to continue at the fort. The Five Nations had few dealings with the English, and most of these were not good. It was the English of Massachusetts and Connecticut who provided guns to their Mahican and Western Abenaki allies, and it was the English of Maryland and Virginia who armed the Susquehannock and even went so far as to provide troops to guard the Susquehannock villages while their warriors raided the confederacy.

  Throughout the longhouses of the Five Nations the winter of 1664 was filled with arguments and conversations as to the nature of their new alliance. For the moment the English, still at war and too few in number to risk altering the status quo, had allowed the Dutch to continue their trading activities at Fort Orange, but this might change once they grew stronger. And what then? What if the English decided in favor of the Five Nations’ enemies and refused to trade guns and powder to the Iroquois? What would become of them then? To make matters even more confusing, rumors were that a Dutch fleet was preparing to retake New Amsterdam. Should the Iroquois treat with the English and the Dutch return, would there be repercussions? Just as importantly, would there be repercussions if they didn’t?

  In August 1665 Iroquois representatives traveled to Albany, as Orange was now known, to meet with Governor Nicolls and Mahican representatives. Nicolls was interested in hammering out a peace treaty between the two nations, and although some efforts were successful along these lines, the Five Nations were more preoccupied with rumors reaching them from New France.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The King’s Hand

  THE IROQUOIS SIEGE OF NEW FRANCE reached a breaking point in 1662. After untold years of conflict and numerous pleas and letters from ranking members of the colony, the matter finally came before King Louis XIV and his council. Europe’s most powerful king did not focus his typically distracted attention on the subject so much for love of his colonial subjects but because his financial minister, Jean-Baptiste Colbert, had infused the monarch with talk of mercantilism and the profits it would bring to Louis’s coffers. Canada, he was informed, if fostered correctly, was a source of revenue Louis could draw upon to finance his ambitions in Europe. There were a number of administrative changes required to accomplish this task, Colbert pointed out, such as placing the colony directly under royal control, but these were trifling obstacles to be left to the finance minister’s capable hands. Of immediate concern was the Iroquois threat. If this were not removed the administrative matters would be for naught, and New France would never achieve her true potential.

  The king was soon sold on the plan. In late 1662 he ordered the dissolution of the Compagnie de la Nouvelle-France and substituted his own authority in the form of the Royal Council of Quebec, which would administer the colony. The following year Louis appointed Lieutenant-General Alexandre de Prouville, the Marquis de Tracy,1 to oversee the establishment of a royal government and its necessary infrastructure in New France. Tracy was given vice regal powers to accomplish this task, which, coupled with the marquis’s stature, demonstrated the importance Louis placed on the undertaking. In keeping with these actions, Louis placed no less importance when it came to choosing the troops bound for Canada, and in January 1665, one of the premier standing units in the French army, the Carignan-Salières Regiment, was selected for the task.

  Transferring some 1,100 men and their supplies across the Atlantic was no simple task for the small and poorly equipped French fleet. A lack of ships meant that the regiment would have to be dispatched in detachments over the course of several months. The first detachment set sail for Canada in mid-April, but it would not be until late May that the last eight companies, along with the newly appointed governor, Daniel de Remyde Courcelle, and the new intendant of Canada, Jean Talon, departed La Rochelle. The supply ship Jardin de Hollande, the last vessel assigned to the expedition, finally followed suit nearly a month later.2

  The regiment and Tracy, whose first mission was to secure French possessions in the Caribbean, arrived at Quebec throughout the summer of 1665 to the repeated celebrations of the denizens of Quebec. In July, with barely a third of his troops in place, Tracy embarked on a course of action. The marquis forwarded detachments to Three Rivers and Montreal to bolster the garrisons of these towns and then turned his attention to a favorite Iroquois invasion route—the Richelieu River. Here he planned four forts, the first at the site of old Fort Richelieu, followed by three more extending south to the outlet of Lake Champlain. As more troops arrived over the course of the summer and fall Tracy forwarded them to the Richelieu to pursue these objectives. By late October three-quarters of his objectives had been achieved. At the former site of Fort Richelieu a new stronghold called Fort Sorel was raised, while farther south Fort Chambly was erected at the head of the Chambly basin, followed by Fort St. Therese a dozen miles farther south. The season was too advanced to construct the last fort envisioned in the chain of posts, but a site had been scouted near the outlet of Lake Champlain and work would start on this the following spring.

  These actions brought about the desired effect. The Iroquois had closely monitored the influx of soldiers into the colony and their actions along the Richelieu. Something had dramatically changed with their French enemies, and news of this quickly spread through the Five Nations. In December, Seneca, Cayuga, and Onondaga envoys arrived at Quebec to investigate this new and alarming trend. Tracy carefully crafted the scene as the representatives arrived in the colonial capital. Formations of troops marched to and fro or were stationed in large numbers along the envoys’ path. Soon the Iroquois ambassadors found themselves before the stern marquis and his council, flanked by the blue uniforms of Tracy’s personal guard and surrounded with the unfamiliar pageantry of a European court.

  The Iroquois, somewhat taken back by the projection of power, presented their customary gifts and made note of the prisoners they had returned as a sign of their goodwill toward the French. Finally, in typical Iroquois fashion, the Onondaga war chief Garakontie stood before the marquis and delivered a speech “full of good sense and of an eloquence that had no savor of barbarism.” He called upon the French to accept the Iroquois offer of friendship and to end the deaths of so many Frenchmen and Iroquois alike. He offered his condolences for the French recently slain at the hands of his countrymen and concluded with a reminder of all he had done for the French and how deep his bond of friendship was with them.

  Tracy accepted the envoys’ gifts and presented his own. He also accepted the offers of peace and pledged as much on his part but not without reminding those present that he did so only because he wished to, not because he must. As a sign of his good faith, the marquis then released three Iroquois prisoners to the delegation. So long, he said, as they respected the French and their allies they would not suffer the consequences of the king’s arms, and peace would prevail between them. With the proceedings shifting in his favor, the marquis then demanded to know why the Mohawk and Oneida had not sent representatives. Garakontie and his companions made excuses for their eastern allies, but Tracy would have none of it. The king’s favors and good graces, he warn
ed them, would only extend to those present. As the Mohawk and Oneida had not deemed it necessary to show themselves, he was not obliged to temper his conduct toward them in any fashion. The delegates nodded quietly at the viceroy’s parting words and, having achieved what they sought, returned to their respective villages with news of the agreement.3

  Certainly the resurgent strength of New France played an important role in the decision of the Seneca, Cayuga, and Onondaga to seek peace, but other elements played into this as well. The confederacy’s strength had been tapped by years of conflict and the ravages of disease, and the war against the Susquehannock was not going well. Many of the Cayuga villages had been driven to the shores of Lake Ontario by Susquehannock raids, and the Seneca had been forced to deploy nearly half of their military strength just to escort their furs to Fort Orange. Coupled with the conquest of New Netherland, the uncertain relations with the new English rulers, and their questionable ability to continue to supply the Iroquois with firearms, there was little choice but to seek peace with the French.

  As Tracy had pointed out to the Iroquois delegates, the Mohawk and Oneida had elected not to participate in the peace proceedings. Much of this had to do with their position within the confederacy and their long-running animosity toward New France. The Susquehannock located farther south and west posed little threat to the Mohawk, and as a result this tribe had refused to participate in the ongoing conflict. Instead, the Mohawk and many of the Oneida still favored the original plan of forcing the French into an economic basis for peace. Although this approach deviated from that of the western elements of the confederacy, the reasons for it were clear; success would give the Mohawk a lead role within the confederacy. Revenge also seems to have had a role in the decision. The long conflicts with New France, starting with Champlain’s original efforts, had fallen mostly upon the Mohawk, which certainly created a generational animosity toward the French.

  Thus far Tracy had shown a great deal of patience in dealing with the Iroquois. He had rattled his saber before the Five Nations while allowing them time to formulate a political response. As a result, diplomacy and threat of force had yielded him an agreement with the westernmost tribes while still leaving his options open. Excuses had been made for the Oneida and the Mohawk, claiming that neither had been informed nor given time to send envoys to the peace proceedings. It seems that a little more patience might have brought these last two tribes into the peace accord, but when it came to the Mohawk Tracy’s course was different. This may have been because he understood that they were the real force behind the conflict and therefore a blow should fall upon them regardless of what transpired. Or it may have been that with the western members of the confederacy falling in line, he felt a message needed to be sent to demonstrate French resolve. Whatever the case, after showing a great deal of restraint, Tracy succumbed to the urgings of Governor Courcelle and made the unusual move of authorizing a winter expedition against the Mohawk villages.

  European military doctrine typically avoided winter campaigns, particularly those in unfamiliar territory. The wisdom behind this became clear when Courcelle, with a force of some five hundred Canadians and regulars, set out from Fort St. Therese in late January 1666. The impatient governor, not waiting for his tardy native guides and ignoring the brutal Canadian winter which had already extracted a toll on his force during the preliminary march from Quebec to Fort St. Therese, pushed forward with the 150-mile march to the Mohawk villages.

  The column slowly worked its way down the frozen length of Lake Champlain, huddled together along the tree lines at night to provide at least some measure of shelter against the cold. At length, they reached Ticonderoga and crossed over to Lake George.4 They moved down the icebound waterway past the snow-splattered bluffs of what would become known as Sabbath Day Point and Rogers Rock to the head of the lake. At this point, even the rudimentary knowledge of the Canadians ran out. Still, the column pushed forward into the upper Hudson valley.5

  The expedition crossed the upper Hudson River, perhaps near the Great Falls, and entered what was known as the Kayadrossera Mountains. Here, in this neck formed by the upper Hudson to the north and east and the Mohawk River to the south, the column became hopelessly lost. Days were spent floundering through the snow in one direction only to retrace their steps in order to try another direction. The march, now nearly three weeks long, began taking its toll. Every day more soldiers fell out of the ranks or lay motionless under their blankets when the haggard column set out again the next morning.

  Finally, on February 20, a number of crude cabins were sighted. Courcelle didn’t bother to investigate and launched an immediate attack on the hamlet. For their part, the troops who had suffered the hardships of three weeks in the frozen wild didn’t fail to carry out his orders. Pent-up anger over their misfortunes overcame reason, and the occupants of the cabins became the focus of their wrath. The victims were a boy and three old women. A few others were taken captive when the troops came to their senses, and to Courcelle’s horror, one of them informed him that he was on the outskirts of Schenectady in New Netherland.6

  Matters soon deteriorated. A few dozen Mohawk who had come to Schenectady to trade set out to investigate the gunfire and soon began skirmishing with Courcelle’s vanguard. After scoring a brief success the Mohawk quickly broke off the engagement when the main body of the French army moved forward. Courcelle was putting his army in order and tending to his casualties when another misfortune befell the expedition. The burgomaster of Schenectady arrived on the scene and informed Courcelle that he had entered the territories of James, the Duke of York. To the governor’s surprise he had strayed into New Netherland. But to make matters worse, New Holland had recently been seized by the English, meaning that his troops had inadvertently attacked an English settlement. The burgomaster then informed Courcelle that Schenectady was undefended and that if he wished, he could occupy the village without opposition.

  Given the state of his troops this was the last thing Courcelle wanted. Instead he negotiated a release of his prisoners and asked the burgomaster if he could purchase supplies. The latter were obtained at a steep price, and the next evening the French army turned north and began their trek back to Fort St. Therese. The governor’s native guides, some thirty Algonquin warriors, appeared before the beleaguered detachment a day later which greatly simplified the march home. Even so, for many it was too much. Falling behind they either succumbed to the elements or were picked off by small Mohawk detachments that followed the strung-out column. Some four hundred survivors passed through the gates of Fort St. Therese two weeks later. The folly of the venture, which accomplished nothing other than alarming the English, was clear. Over one hundred men had perished; far more than any that would have fallen in most Mohawk raids.

  Even so, the expedition did accomplish one thing. For the first time the French had been strong enough to attempt a strike on the Mohawk villages. This fact only cemented the position of the Seneca, Cayuga, and Onondaga. Further, it brought the Oneida to Tracy’s doorstep early that summer. They too wanted peace with the French. The Mohawk, however, even though they sent emissaries, remained fickle toward the idea. Enough so that Tracy decided that another expedition was required to convince them of the error of their ways. The matter also became more precarious in the sense that, although he could not prove it, the marquis suspected collusion between the Mohawk and the newly installed English rulers of New York, as New Netherland was now called. Were this the case, Tracy wanted to make clear to the Mohawk that they would find no safe haven in such an arrangement but, at the same time, not provoke a conflict between the two colonies.

  The matter became clearer when in early August 1666 a letter arrived from France informing the marquis that England and France were formally at war. As a result, the king presented two possibilities to his North American deputy: either secure neutrality with New York or attack them using the resentments of the recently annexed Dutch to aid him in this effort. No mention was mad
e of the Mohawk, but it was clear to Tracy that the actions of this tribe were coupled to those of New York. If the marquis chose neutrality with New York, he left the English free to employ their Mohawk allies as intermediaries to carry the war to Canada. The government of New York could then formally claim peace while still carrying out its aims against the French. On the other hand, an invasion of New York could only be accomplished by first neutralizing any threat the Mohawk might pose to an attacking force’s rear. Thus, each path brought him to the doorstep of the Mohawk.7

  This time Tracy would personally lead the expedition. It would be conducted in the fall, a far more conducive time of year for such operations, and it would employ the largest force New France had ever put into the field: some six hundred Canadians, six hundred regulars, and one hundred Algonquin warriors. A pair of small cannon were even to be brought to hammer down the walls of the Mohawk villages if necessary. The entire force, loaded into small boats and canoes, would sail up the length of Lake Champlain and Lake George, allowing for a much faster and easier march than Courcelle’s expedition and, if they were lucky, an opportunity to catch the Mohawk by surprise.