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  Although the troops were scheduled to rendezvous at Fort St. Anne on September 28 and set out for the Mohawk homelands in one force, a number of the contingents were inevitably delayed. Governor Courcelle, however, “yielding to his customary impatience to gain the scene of action,” had already departed with an advance force of four hundred men before Tracy was able to leave with the main body on October 3. The rear guard, under the command of Captains Berthier and Chambly, followed a few days later, and by October 5, the flotilla of three hundred boats and canoes was working its way up the rain-swept length of Lake Champlain.

  Unlike Courcelle’s previous effort, Tracy’s march encountered few problems, even with the intervention of heavy autumn rains. Led by their Indian guides, the troops disembarked at Ticonderoga and carried the boats, canoes, and supplies, including the two small cannon, through the damp fall foliage over to the choppy waters of Lake George. From here the detachments, now reformed into one group, advanced quickly up the length of the lake into the upper reaches of the Hudson valley. When the army crossed the upper Hudson waterway, it became apparent that any element of surprise they had hoped for was gone. Mohawk scouts were seen signaling each other from distant mountaintops and on occasion fired a few ineffective long-range shots at the column or shouted insults down upon the Frenchmen.8

  A few days out from the Mohawk villages, a brief skirmish occurred between a party of Mohawk and a number of Algonquin scouts. The Mohawk broke off the engagement almost as quickly as it had started, but it was enough for Tracy to accelerate the pace of the march. Although his presence might be known, there was still a chance to launch an attack before the enemy could bolster their defenses. Within striking distance of his goal, the general ordered a forced march on the night of October 15, and by dawn the little army found itself arrayed before the first of the Mohawk villages.

  What they expected to find was a small hamlet of huddled longhouses perhaps surrounded by some crude defensive outworks. What they found instead amazed them and in Tracy’s mind lent credence to his theory of collusion between the Mohawk and the government of New York. Before them lay what appeared to be the work of a military engineer: a veritable wooden fortress of triple palisades, at least eighteen feet in height, with bastions arranged at each corner. Within this fortification lay as many as twenty longhouses, each with a storeroom packed to the ceiling with maize and beans in such quantities that it was estimated it could feed the entire population along the St. Lawrence for two years. There were even casks of water stored throughout the fortress to fight fires should the village be attacked and firing platforms constructed along the length of the stronghold’s walls. The Mohawk “castles” were truly an impressive sight.

  As the army arrayed its ranks, a number of Mohawk braves hooted and hollered at the French from a safe distance, but all quickly scattered when the army advanced on the village to the steady beat of the drum. Once again the French were surprised but this time because they found the entire complex deserted. Still hoping to catch the Mohawk, Tracy ordered an advance on a second village half a dozen miles away, but this one proved to be deserted as well.9

  Empty-handed, the marquis held a council of war to consider his next move. Although there were certainly more, the two Mohawk villages that had been seized were the only ones known to the French. As the officers debated what to do, an Algonquin camp follower, a woman who had previously been captured by the Mohawk, approached Courcelle and informed him that there were two more villages a short distance to the west. Courcelle ordered the troops forward and, true to her claim, the detachment found another deserted “castle” an hour or so later. It was late in the day, but at the insistence of their guide, Courcelle and his men set out for another village a short distance away.

  This village, known as Andaraque, was the largest of the four, and unlike the others was not completely deserted. Two old women, an old man, and a small child were found huddled within its confines, which like the other “castles,” was stocked with the fruits of a bountiful harvest and the personal belongings of its inhabitants. The fortress also held more gruesome undertakings. Scattered about the cinders of a large fire lay the half-tortured, half-burnt remains of a number of Mohawk captives. It was a poignant reminder for those who had lost sight of the expedition’s purpose among its hardships.

  The captives informed Courcelle and Tracy that the Mohawk retreating from the other villages had planned to make a stand at Andaraque, but the number of French before them and the beat of their drums squashed whatever courage they possessed. Panic soon took hold, and the whole had fled into the woods, leaving their homes and personal belongings behind. The story, which became the official French line, is interesting but unlikely. The abandoning of their villages was a deliberate choice on the part of the Mohawk and when considered was the only logical decision that could be arrived at. The scattered positioning of the villages meant that they could not support one another in the event of an attack. Nor were the Mohawk interested in fighting a stand-up European-style battle, which would have heavily favored the French and probably would have led to the destruction of their tribe. With no time to ask for help from the English or their confederate allies, and the likelihood that neither would have been willing to intervene, this left only one choice: flight. In doing so they would sacrifice their homes in exchange for the survival of the tribe and the opportunity to fight again another day.10

  In their haste to arrive at a decision, the Mohawk had severely underestimated the position of Tracy’s army as well as their own options. The French were hundreds of miles from their nearest base with no supplies other than what they carried and in hostile and unfamiliar territory with no likelihood of reinforcements. Had the Mohawk defended their “castle” walls or, better yet, had they launched an aggressive guerilla campaign against the isolated French column, they would have certainly placed Tracy’s command in a dire, if not desperate, position. While one force delayed the main French army, another could have been sent to overwhelm Tracy’s rear guard at the head of Lake George with the goal of destroying the rows of neatly gathered boats along the rocky shore. With his retreat cut, Tracy’s force would have been open to an endless series of hit-and-run raids as his detachment blazed a trail home through the primeval forest that lined the two lakes. Like a pack of wolves wearing down a bear, the Mohawk could have slashed at the column, allowing it no rest or respite, until the time was right to strike the death blow. Certainly the Mohawk would have lost their homes under such a plan, but as it was, these fixed targets were doomed anyway. The only question, then, became at what price they would be sold. Fortunately for the French the price was cheap. “Certain it is that there is a miracle in all this,” Mother Marie de l’Incarnation wrote in her diary. “For if the Iroquois had held firm, they would have caused our army great difficulty and delayed it considerably—fortified and armed as they were and bold and proud as they are.”11

  Although Tracy had captured four Mohawk villages, in doing so he had failed to achieve the decisive military victory he had been seeking. This now left the marquis with a difficult decision. Before him lay New Amsterdam, or New York as it was now called. With its ice-free ports and protected harbors, it was a prize that would transform the nature of the French position in America. Should he seize such a jewel, he would cut the Mohawk off from their Dutch and English trading partners, which would ultimately bring them into the French fold and open all of the Iroquois country to New France. It would give the colony a year-round port from which it could be supplied and reinforced from Europe with ease, while driving a wedge between the English colonies and checking the expansion of New England at the same time. Many of the general’s officers, knowing that a state of war existed between the two countries, urged him forward. Thanks to his recent acquisitions, the army was well supplied and had suffered nothing in the way of casualties. The English were known to be weak, the Mohawk were scattered, and the recently conquered Dutch populace would certainly rise up in support of the
French.

  For an instant the image of the Fleur-de-lis fluttering over the island of Manhattan flitted through the Marquis’s mind but only for an instant. He was too tried and practiced a soldier to gamble the fate of his little army and the safety of the colony on such a venture. The Mohawk were hardly defeated, and if he advanced there were no guarantees that the Dutch would come to their aid. Tracy shook his head. No, the risks were too great. The army would return to Canada.

  At dawn on October 17, the forest echoed with the sound of rolling drums as the entire detachment was formed up before the village of Andaraque. Captain Jean-Baptiste DuBois, acting under the authority of the intendant, read the official act of possession before the army, which claimed all the settlements, the lands about them, and the items found therein property of the French crown. A cross bearing the royal arms of France was then erected nearby with its completion being punctuated by the cry of “Vive le Roi.” Mass was said, and with the ceremonies completed the Iroquois village was set ablaze before the army paraded off to the east. The remaining three villages were dealt with in like fashion, leaving them all flickering cinders and ash by the time the army reached their boats at the head of Lake George.12 By early November the makeshift armada had reached Fort St. Anne, and by the middle of the month the detachments had redeployed to their normal duty stations.13

  For all those involved, the expedition was hailed as an unparalleled success. Although the Mohawk had not been chastised on the field of battle, many felt that hunger and the trials of winter would exact an even greater toll on the homeless tribe. “Have not a doubt,” one Jesuit recorded in his journal, “that almost as many will die of hunger as would have perished by the weapons of our soldiers.”14 It did not prove to be the case. The Mowhawk recovered quickly from the loss of their villages, building new ones farther south, closer to their Dutch and English allies. They also seem to have just as quickly obtained a supply of food either from hidden caches or from their confederate allies, for no records exist to show that they suffered any unusual hardships that winter. Among the towns and villages of Canada, however, all this was cast aside. An air of optimism swept across the countryside and many looked forward to years of peace and prosperity.15

  As it turned out they would have it. The next spring Iroquois delegations began arriving at Quebec, and this time they included the Mohawk. Tracy demanded the release of all prisoners, and the Iroquois assented. Jesuit missionaries were sent to each Iroquois village, and French fur traders were established in these same villages to redirect trade away from the Anglo-Dutch posts and back toward Canada. Specific hunting territories were established for all tribes, and hostages were given to the French to assure that the Iroquois would abide by the treaty. Satisfied with the conditions, the marquis signed a formal peace treaty with the Iroquois in July 1667, which, with a few isolated exceptions, was to bring peace to New France for almost eighteen years.16

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The French and the Five Nations

  FOR THE FRENCH, peace with the Iroquois led to the next steps in Colbert’s plans to develop the colony. Through liberal land grants and monetary incentives the minister of the marine enticed over four hundred soldiers of the Carignan-Salières Regiment to remain in the colony. This alone was a large boost to the fledgling population, but it also served the purpose of stiffening the core of the colony’s militia. Colbert then backed this population increase by sending hundreds of additional colonists from France. Among these were a large number of young women, known as the king’s girls, who quickly found husbands in the colony. The result was a population explosion. In 1662 the colony numbered some 2,500 souls, but by 1674, a few years after Colbert’s measures were enacted, it had jumped to nearly 7,000 inhabitants, many of whom were children.1

  The influx of settlers, coupled with the peace, led in turn to an increase in cultivated lands within the colony and the start of a number of industries, such as fishing and logging. Colbert was particularly interested in the latter of these pursuits. The young French navy relied on the Baltic states for its masts. With the wealth of timber in Canada this need could easily be met by the new colony. In addition, with this abundance of wood, there was no reason to believe that shipyards wouldn’t become a main staple of the colony as well. Efforts were made to recruit immigrants versed in these trades, but few were willing to leave France, and those who did demanded extraordinary compensation to do so. As to the other industry, fishing, the waters of the New World teemed with opportunities—opportunities that would not only go a long way toward sustaining the colony but that also translated into exports that would feed the growing populations of Europe. Additional efforts were begun as well. Manufacturing of shoes and hats was started, cattle and sheep were dispatched to the colony in hopes of fostering ventures in beef and wool, surveys were launched in search of mineral deposits, and the first brewery was opened, which acted as an outlet for the surplus grain produced by the settlers.

  For the moment, however, the most important industry of Canada saw an immediate impact from peace with the Five Nations. With the Iroquois threat removed the native fur fleets, some from tribes who had never ventured to the colony, once again returned to the shores of Montreal. After almost a decade of stunted profits the year after the signing of the peace accord with the Iroquois saw a record 550,000 livres’ worth of furs shipped to France. With the profits to be had it did not take the merchants of Montreal long to realize that going to the source of the furs avoided competition and allowed them to pick and choose from the merchandise. Soon waves of expeditions to the native villages of the “high country” were being sponsored by wealthy Montreal merchants. The men who made up these expeditions were known as coureurs de bois. Hardy adventurers, these souls braved marauders, traveled hundreds of miles by canoe, lived among the tribes they traded with, learned their language, and often adopted their ways and customs in order to secure the furs they sought. This lucrative occupation soon drew hundreds of able-bodied men away from the development of the colony. The problem became severe enough that Colbert passed directives to the governors of New France to restrict the practice, but once started it proved impossible to stop.

  The demand for furs soon pushed the boundaries of New France as coureurs de bois traveled farther and farther west in search of new sources. Some of this was under the guise of exploration, but at its heart was always the profit of the fur trade. Nor were just merchants involved in this practice. In 1673 the new governor of the colony, Louis de Baude, Count de Frontenac, organized an expedition to erect a fort near the outlet of Lake Ontario. The rationale behind this fort was to keep the Iroquois in check, particularly in terms of preventing them from enticing the Canadian tribes to bypass the French and trade at Albany. Certainly something could be said for this argument, but the real motives behind the erection of Fort Frontenac were monetary. By placing the fort near the headwaters of the St. Lawrence it would be in a position to intercept much of the native trade that would have otherwise gone to Montreal. It also served as a staging point and supply depot for traders heading west, and under Frontenac’s control it guaranteed the governor and his associates, men such as Sieur de La Salle, an ample portion of the profits arising from this traffic.2

  The erection of Fort Frontenac drew the ire of Montreal merchants, who eventually vented their anger to Colbert. The minister of the marine did not directly accuse Frontenac of promoting his own financial interest through the construction of the fort, but he did chastise the governor for not stopping the expansion of the colony via the actions of the coureurs de bois. Allowing such behavior, he reiterated, drained valuable manpower away from the colonial industries that he was pushing so hard to establish. In the same vein, however, Colbert recognized the need to explore the frontier, particularly in terms of finding a western seaport that would link the colony to France during the winter months. Coupled with this he understood in certain instances the necessity to secure these territories in the name of the king, but “as a gener
al rule,” he informed Frontenac,

  Should the countries of which you take possession be necessary to the trade and traffic of the French and be open to discovery and occupation by any other Nation that may disturb French commerce and trade. But when such a category does not exist, his Majesty is always of opinion that you may and ought to leave the Savages at liberty to bring you their peltries, without giving yourself the trouble of going so far in search of them.3

  The king, fearing for the safety of the colony, and looking to avoid costly defense expenditures, made the matter clearer in a later letter to the governor.

  In regard to new discoveries, you ought not to turn your attention thereunto without urgent necessity and very great advantage, and you ought to hold it as a maxim, that it is much better to occupy less territory and to people it thoroughly, than to spread oneself out more, and to have feeble colonies which can be easily destroyed by any sort of accident.4

  Neither the king or Colbert, nor strict ordinances and licensing conditions put in place by the government against traveling to the native territories, had the desired effect. For one, the profits far outweighed the risks. Second, the coureurs de bois had become something like ambassadors among the dozens of tribes that fell within the French economic and military sphere. Removing this influence, which typically prevented these tribes from turning to the Iroquois and English for trade and oftentimes prevented open conflicts between tribes bound to French interests, was neither wise nor feasible. Lastly, Frontenac and his replacements, when they were not involved in profiting from such arrangements, had to walk a fine line with limiting these activities. The Iroquois and the traders at Albany were more than happy to buy furs and did not care where they came from, thus threats of draconian punishments designed to prevent these activities had the net effect of driving the coureurs de bois and the tribes they dealt with into the hands of the English. By 1679 the matter had spiraled out of control. The intendant of the colony, Jacques Du Chesneau, who occupied a position second only to that of the governor, informed the minister of the marine that,