King William's War

by Michael G Laramie

  Church and his men returned to their transports at Maquoit Bay. The plan was to set sail for Saco the next morning, and not long after sunrise lookouts reported smoke to the south. Church moved his forces to investigate and landed a small detachment of sixty men near the mouth of the Saco River. This party surprised a number of Wabanaki warriors, killing several and scattering the rest. An English captive, Thomas Baker, was rescued during the engagement. Baker informed Church that the natives had hidden a sizable cache of furs at Fort Pejepscot. The news caused the detachment to return to the fort where the furs were found and secured. The potential profits from this booty soon had several militia officers pressing for the expedition to return home. Church initially objected but later relented when a council of war overruled him.

  The next morning the small fleet sailed across Casco Bay. It was a misty rainy day, impeding the fleet’s progress such that it took shelter at Cape Elizabeth that evening. As the vessels were extremely crowded Church ordered three companies ashore. The troops found several deserted dwellings and passed the evening in uneventful fashion. That morning several of Church’s native scouts lit a fire and began to cook breakfast.

  Alarmed that they had given away the detachment’s position, Church headed ashore in a small boat to deal with the breach of his orders. The major had no sooner climbed into his launch when gunfire erupted from along the shoreline.

  Church was correct in fearing that the enemy lay nearby. A prisoner taken at Amerascogin had escaped during the detachment’s march back to their transports. He soon spread word of the English detachment, and a war party was formed that had been shadowing the English for the last day. That morning, noting that the watch was not staying alert, the Wabanaki warriors burst upon the English encampment. The sudden bursts of gunfire and war whoops panicked Church’s men, and the three companies retreated to the shoreline before they could be rallied by their officers.

  Church soon arrived as the engagement settled down into an exchange of musketry. Reinforcements came with the major as well, but the position he found the detachment in was a precarious one. The entire force was now sheltered on the shore behind a sand bank. Pinned down there was only one option—a charge. Church informed his men that he would give three shouts and the entire army would go over the sand bank and charge upon the enemy. The first attempt did not fare so well. Church gave the third shout and climbed up the sand bank. As bullets kicked up the ground around him, he heard a call from one of his captains behind him that the army had not followed. Church scurried back down the sand bank and admonished his troops. This time the entire force moved forward with a yell, which set the outnumbered Wabanaki to flight.1

  After licking his wounds, Church sent scouts out along the coast, but no sign of the enemy could be found. With little else to be accomplished the fleet set sail for Portsmouth, arriving September 26. Although the expedition had failed to secure its goals, the prisoners taken were eventually to prove of use.

  In the end, Church’s expedition, coupled with the failure of Winthrop and Phips’s campaigns, had made 1690 a trying year for New England. With so much vested in these ventures, news that all had failed struck hard at Yankee morale. The scourge of smallpox returned with Phips’s fleet and soon was at epidemic levels throughout Boston and the surrounding towns. Criticisms of Phips’s expedition abounded and Sir William took affront when leading figures questioned his actions. “There are great complaints of neglect and want of proper provision and care,” wrote Minister Samuel Myles of the expedition. “Those who are arrived at Boston or elsewhere die up and down like rotten sheep. The cost of the expedition is set down at £50,000, for which the people are rated, though already intolerably taxed. I fear there will be bloodshed as at New York. The French are making great preparations and we are utterly unable to defend ourselves.”2

  The financial loss crippled Massachusetts. The venture was financed in part with the assurance that the booty obtained would cover the costs. As there was no booty to speak of, the entire bill fell upon the colony. There was not enough money to pay Phips’s men, which threatened to create another problem, as many of them hung around Boston in hopes of obtaining at least some of their pay. Paper money was issued for the first time in the colony in an attempt to alleviate the fiscal problems, but it proved nearly worthless.

  The Massachusetts and New Hampshire frontiers were fortified with troops, but there was no way to pay them. Even if they all stayed at their posts despite this, it was not likely to make much difference. There was no way to know when or where a French and Indian war party might strike, and it was simply impossible to fortify and garrison the entire frontier. Even the seaports down the East Coast were in peril should a French fleet arrive in North American waters. Taken together with the colony’s financial woes, the disrupted and slow leadership, and the smallpox epidemic, it set off a wave of despair. Fortunately Church’s expedition had paid one dividend that lifted the colony’s spirit. Although the expedition had failed to secure its goals, the prisoners taken were eventually exchanged for English captives and a temporary truce was agreed upon by both parties until May 1691.3

  Along the New York frontier and the extent of the Iroquois homelands there was no truce. With Schenectady in ruins and Winthrop’s withdrawal, Albany had become the northern frontier and a legitimate French target given its role in supplying the Iroquois. Unlike the ill-fated Schenectady, Albany was far better protected. The defenses of the town centered about Fort Albany. Constructed in the spring of 1676, the stronghold was placed on a hill to the northwest of the city. From this vantage point the fort’s cannon could cover the town, its main approaches, and the river. High ground to the west called the position of the fort into question, but as it was unlikely that cannon could be dragged through the wilderness to take advantage of this weakness this point had little influence on the fort’s construction.

  The fort’s main walls were constructed of fifteen-foot-tall pine trees anchored and lashed together in a typical stockade fashion. A second shorter and more widely spaced row of vertical logs backed the main walls and acted as supports for the platforms and walkways that circled the inner parameter. Bastions were added at each corner and planked over to allow for the mounting of five or six small cannon. The northwestern bastion was later rebuilt in stone and acted as the fort’s magazine. Within the compound two long three-story buildings were constructed along the north and south curtain walls, both of which were tall enough that their second-story windows overlooked the main walls. A ditch backed by sharpened stakes circled the stronghold on three sides to provide protection against a surprise attack.4

  Garrisoned by one hundred men and armed with twelve light cannon, Fort Albany was capable of defending itself against French and Indian marauders, but it failed to address the needs of the town to protect itself from these types of attack. To deal with this problem work turned toward enclosing the town within a stockade, which was supported at key points by log blockhouses. Benjamin Wadsworth, a Massachusetts representative who traveled to Albany in the early 1690s, left a description of this work.

  Ye town is incompass’d with a fortification, consisting of pine-logs, ye most of ym a foot thro, or more ; ye are hewed on two sides and set close together, standing about 8 or 10 foot above ground, sharpened at ye tops. There are 6 gates ; 2 of ye east to ye river, 3 north, one south ; ye are five block-houses ; 2 north, by two of ye foremention’d gates, and 3 south.5

  Although the defenses of the town were bolstered with several hundred men and locations along the Hudson warned, the real threat to New York’s defenses lay in the political division that had wracked the colony with Leisler’s assent to the governorship. Leisler’s antics, and purge his of anyone under the pretext that they were Jacobites, had worn thin, and his detention of Winthrop did nothing to aid the division.

  As the snows came the realities of the conflict descended upon New York and New England. “If no French ships come on the coast,” one contemporary wrote his friend,
“if no French and Indians come over the Lake, if the Five Nations prove true, if the young Indians of the East approve of the old men’s sayings, and if we agree among ourselves, then the country will be safe and happy.”

  In Quebec there was relief and celebration with the departure of Phips’s fleet. This, however, was short-lived. The harvest had failed throughout the colony and, with Phips’s fleet in the St. Lawrence for most of the fall, little in the way of supplies from France reached the colony until the siege was lifted, and what did arrive amounted to no more than a month’s worth of provisions. Frontenac had this cargo, along with whatever other stores that could be spared, distributed among the settlers as the colony braced for a difficult winter. The food shortages also meant that the governor had to quarter his troops with the populace. Winter set in and prices skyrocketed as common goods like wine and brandy became scarce. “Every description of food was acceptable,” one witness noted, “and the ground was no sooner bare of snow than herbs, roots, and the trifling quantity of fish that could be caught, constituted the sustenance of a large number of families.”6

  Not only were there food shortages for the governor to contend with but powder and munitions of all types were in demand, as were reinforcements simply to replace those lost over the course of the year. When a band of Abenaki came to him asking for supplies to launch an attack on the English, Frontenac had little to give them, telling them that more would come once the first ships from France arrived. Until then, New France was too weak to attempt anything, and thus, “The entire Winter passed away without scarcely a single movement.”7

  It was clear to Frontenac and Governor Callières of Montreal that the solution to the colony’s problems was to revive the old plan to attack New York by sea and land. Callières passed an updated copy of this proposal to the minister of the marine in Paris. In this letter he informed the minster that when Phips was before Quebec he “told our prisoners that they must subjugate us, or we must become their masters. This opinion,” Callières concluded, “is sufficiently well founded, and it will be difficult for our Colony and theirs to exist except by the destruction and conquest of one or the other. The question is, then, either to place us in a position to resist the new efforts of the English, or to conquer them.”

  With the outbreak of hostilities more resources were needed than a few years before, but the plan was basically the same. A Canadian force of 1,500 would descend Lake Champlain and launch an attack on Albany. Once this post was secure, the force would sail down the Hudson to rendezvous with a French naval squadron of six frigates and 1,500 marines at New York City. The combined force would then seize New York, which would not only cut the Iroquois off from the English but would prove a haven for French privateers operating in North American waters. Frontenac supported Callières plan, but he questioned the feasibility of seizing Albany based primarily on logistics. On the other hand, the count pointed out that the assigned French squadron was more than capable of taking New York City by itself. At that point the rest of New York would fall in short order, accomplishing the same results. The French squadron could then be assigned to New York and perhaps even turn its attention to raiding Boston.

  As spring came the colony’s resources were being strained, as was the governor’s patience with the Iroquois mission Indians, who, he maintained, carried on a “certain secret intercourse with the Mohawk.” In March a Mohawk peace envoy arrived at Montreal. Given the condition of the colony, and even though the peace envoy he had sent under the Chevalier D’Eu to the Onondaga had been taken captive and half its members burned at the stake, Frontenac at least considered the ambassador’s words. In the end he and Callières dismissed the peace overtures as a typical Iroquois tactic to distract the French while their comrades massed for another series of raids.

  In this Frontenac was correct. In April a large band of Iroquois fell on the settlement of Point-aux-Trembles a few miles below Montreal. Some thirty dwellings were burned and a number of inhabitants were either taken or killed. Next was the mission at the Lake of the Mountain. An Iroquois contingent attacked the mission in broad daylight, capturing thirty-five converts almost under the gates of Montreal. To the west an attempt to surprise Fort Frontenac by three hundred to four hundred Iroquois warriors was thwarted when an alert sentry sounded the alarm, all while smaller groups of warriors prowled the deserted hamlets along the south bank of the St. Lawrence in search of anyone foolish enough to be outside the safety of the local fortifications. Things did not always go the Iroquois way, however. Later in the month a party of forty braves was set upon by a large detachment from Montreal. After a surprise attack that killed half the raiders, the French managed to corner the rest in a farmhouse near Repentigny. A brisk firefight ensued until a pair of soldiers managed to set the structure on fire. With no options before them, the Iroquois attempted to break through the French lines. One brave made good his escape, but the rest were either killed or captured in the melee. The captured warriors were turned over to the local citizens, who, in their fury, burned all of them at the stake.8

  The Iroquois raids subsided after this initial onslaught. Bands of a few individuals still attacked isolated homesteads and searched for captives, but the large-scale raids ceased. With the improving weather the Iroquois now faced the same problem as the French—enemy raiders. The Miami and the Illinois to the west and the Ottawa and “high country” tribes of the Great Lakes sent out war parties against the Iroquois and in particular against the Seneca. To counter these attacks the Five Nations had been forced to keep more of their men at home.

  The opening of July brought good news for the colony. A fleet of fourteen vessels along with the frigates Soleil d’Afrique and Catherine arrived from France. The famine was lifted. Powder, shot, replacements, and money to repair fortifications and build new ones arrived as well. As the citizens of Quebec rejoiced Frontenac read a letter that had arrived from the king. There would be no French naval squadron to support an attack on New York, as these assets were busy in Europe. The king left carrying through with the attack on Albany up to the governor but in general supported the colony taking on a more defensive role.

  As the weather improved Frontenac’s poorly coordinated enemies to the south braced for the upcoming campaign season. At least the issues of divided command in New York were settled when Colonel Henry Sloughter was sent to replace Leisler in the spring of 1691. Leisler had made too many enemies and he made one of Sloughter when he refused to turn Fort James over to the new lieutenant governor, Major Richard Ingoldsby, and his arriving troops. Leisler foolishly held out, claiming that Ingoldsby lacked the papers required for the governor to turn over the fort and colony. The issue degenerated into a military standoff with Ingoldsby threatening to storm the fort and Leisler with his supporters manning the stronghold’s ramparts waiting for just such a moment. Sloughter, delayed by ship troubles, did not arrive until mid-March. When he did he presented his commission as governor and demanded Leisler immediately turn over the fort. Leisler initially refused, but by now the fort’s garrison of some three hundred or so had seen enough. A powerful English warship rode quietly not far away, which could bring more and larger guns to bear than the old fort, and some five hundred troops lay outside the fort’s walls prepared to attack on Sloughter’s command. Leisler was finally convinced to surrender and found himself destined to meet the hangman on the charge of treason.

  With the matter of Leisler closed Sloughter turned to the defenses of New York, and what he found alarmed him. To the north the colonies of New England were in disarray operating under their old charters. Sloughter begged the king to revoke their charters and appoint him to establish royal rule before these colonies turned on each other in the face of the French. Closer to home the governor found that the division under Leisler had led to a fractured command and neglect of the colony’s fortifications. “Albany has long expected a French attack, and the Maquas [Mohawk] are unsteady,” he informed London. Sloughter immediately dispatched one of t
he companies of regulars that had come with him to Albany, and by June 1, he was meeting with the Iroquois to solidify the alliance.

  Sloughter listened through a translator as a Mohawk sachem reminded him of the ruins the governor had just visited at Schenectady. The Mohawk had warned their brothers to fortify, the sachem pointed out, but the English refused, saying that “the French were a Christian Enemy and they would warn you, but you see how they have warned you by Schenectady.” The sachem was grateful for the attention the governor took toward the alliance, as well as the supplies he had sent. He expressed the Iroquois commitment to the alliance but questioned the resolve of New England, Virginia, and Maryland.

  The Iroquois had suffered a good number of losses pressing home their attacks on New France and repelling raids against their villages. Such losses were difficult but acceptable given their ultimate aims. Even so the Five Nations were beginning to feel the effects of constant warfare with the French and their allies. The Mohawk, for instance, could put no more than two or three hundred warriors in the field, a far cry from the thousands they boasted a half-century before. As the sachems of the longhouse took stock of their current situation, they began questioning the fidelity of their allies. Their English brothers urged them to attack the French at every turn, while they themselves watched from the safety of Albany, New York, and Boston. It seemed that they were carrying on the war alone. It was time the English took up the hatchet.9

  For the government of New York, the message was too important to ignore. The loss or even wavering of Iroquois participation in the conflict would have disastrous consequences. It was quickly agreed that an English-led expedition should be formed to bolster the alliance. Major Peter Schuyler, the mayor of Albany and old friend of the Mohawk, was chosen to lead the effort. Schuyler recruited 120 English and Dutch settlers for his war party. Eighty Mohawk and sixty Mohegan braves joined the expedition at various points along the way, making the total force some 266 in number.10