King William's War

by Michael G Laramie

  The harvest of 1692 was brought in without serious interruption, but it proved less bountiful than hoped due to the ravages of caterpillars, and only the late arrival of supply ships from France averted widespread shortages. With the threat of famine removed and news of French and Indian victories from the high country to the coast of Maine, confidence began to soar within New France. The net effect was to shift the governor’s thinking over to the offensive. Frontenac had detained a pair of frigates, the thirty-eight-gun Poli and the thirty-four-gun Envieux, at Quebec. Under the command of Pierre LeMoyne d’Iberville these two vessels were to rendezvous with two more and a number of troops from the Compagnie du Nord and together launch an expedition against Fort Nelson in Hudson Bay. Iberville, however, was delayed in getting the expedition out of France, as the Poli and Envieux were directed to act as escort for a supply convoy destined for the colony. As such, Iberville did not arrive at Quebec until the end of late August, far too late in the year for an expedition into Hudson Bay. With the availability of Iberville’s vessels and crews Frontenac proposed an expedition against the new English fort at Pemaquid. The venture was agreed upon, and by mid-October Iberville was meeting with Governor Villebon near the mouth of the St. John River. Here the two leaders agreed that a large Wabanaki force would besiege the fort from the land side while Iberville’s frigates attacked from the sea side.

  The two parties advanced the next day, and as the Wabanaki watched from the tree line near Fort William Henry the two French frigates came into sight, loitered about for a bit, and then sailed off without having attempted anything. Disgusted with the conduct of the French warships, nothing Villebon could have said would have held together the Wabanaki war party, which broke up and returned home later that day. Iberville blamed the weather and the lack of a good pilot who knew the shoreline, but it seems more likely that, having had a closer look at the stone fortress and seeing an English vessel lying under the guns of the fort, he chose not to risk the vessels he planned to use against Hudson Bay next spring. With the venture aborted, Iberville and his frigates cruised New England waters for the next few weeks, eventually taking three prizes before setting course for France in mid-November.15

  Frontenac was frustrated by the missed opportunity at Pemaquid but relieved that the late fall weather all but ensured that any English attack on Quebec would have to wait until the spring. The governor had dealt with rumors of an attack on Quebec since Phips had arrived as the new governor of Massachusetts, and although they concerned him given the state of the colony’s defenses, nothing had materialized. What the count did not know was that a second expedition against Quebec, although considered, had been put off for another year.

  In the meantime a threat did come to one of the most remote parts of the colony—Placentia, Newfoundland. The French fishing village was located on the west side of the Avalon Peninsula, which makes up Newfoundland’s southwest point. Numbering a few hundred at most, the outpost served as a port for the seasonal fishing fleets that arrived out of France. In mid-September, as this fleet was preparing to return to Europe, one vessel informed the town’s governor, Jacques-Francois de Brouillan, that an English fleet was anchored not far away at Cape St. Mary. The news spurred Brouillan to sound the alarm, which proved a wise move, as the next morning five English warships, the smallest of which mounted twenty-eight guns, were seen positioned in the harbor just out of cannon range. Fearing a landing the governor assembled a company of sixty men under the command of Baron La Hontan with orders to oppose an English landing near the fort. It was a brave but likely meaningless maneuver. Any one of the English ships had a crew larger than the fort’s garrison of fifty men. Nor was the fort itself much in the way of a defensive obstacle. Brouillan had worked at improving the defenses of the town. He built the wooden frame of Fort St. Louis, which was positioned to the north of the old earthen fort to better protect the nearby town, and planned to face this fort in stone next year. A supporting four-gun battery at nearby Point du Goulet and cables hung across the channel to bar vessels from passing the town were also added, but against such a force it did not seem sufficient.16

  The English commander, Commodore Thomas Gillam, soon sent a boat bearing a white flag. The English officer envoy in the boat was blindfolded and, after being led about for a bit, was brought before Brouillan. The envoy informed the governor that Commodore Gillam had dispatched him to summon the fort’s surrender and all French possessions in the bay. The English commander had also requested that Brouillan send an officer to meet with Gillam so the latter could explain the purpose of his visit. As requested, Brouillan dispatched La Hontan and an officer name Pastour to speak with Gillam, but little came of the meeting. It seemed the commodore was more interested in showing his guests the strength of his fleet firsthand than speaking to any matters of importance.

  If Gillam had hopes that showing his overwhelming firepower might force a French surrender, these were dashed when Brouillan officially refused. With the preliminaries attended to Brouillan opened fire on the English fleet on the morning of September 19. The English vessels were quick to take up the challenge that lasted off and on for nearly six hours. Brouillan had been reinforced at the last moment by 120 French sailors from the fishing fleet trapped in the bay, and these men helped serve his batteries. A number of hits were observed on Gillam’s flagship, and not long after she fell out of the firing line. The French commander, however, had to use his limited ammunition sparingly, but even so, by the time the English fleet broke off their attack, Fort St. Louis was down to its last barrel of powder. The fort itself, although subjected to a heavy bombardment, had done well, and there had only been a few casualties, but without powder none of this would matter. To Brouillan’s relief, the English fleet moved off the next morning, stopping only to burn a few cabins before setting sail for England.17

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Mohawk Expedition

  AS 1692 FADED FRONTENAC FELT STRONG ENOUGH to switch to the offensive. Where to attack was not a difficult choice. With the onset of winter the Mohawk would return to their castles, offering an excellent opportunity to bring the war to their doorstep. A strike against this tribe was important for several reasons. Although they were not the strongest or most numerous of the Iroquois nations, they were at the head of the war effort against the French. The campaign would also help secure the allegiance of the mission Indians, most of whom were Mohawk, and damage the credibility of the English as well. For if it were successful, the mission Indians would realize the strength of the French cause, and the Mohawk would realize what little security their alliance with the English offered.

  Preparations for the expedition started in Montreal in early November. Provisions, snowshoes, ammunition, sleds, blankets—all the accoutrements necessary to sustain 625 men in the field for a month—were routed to the island. The troops were the last element to reach the town. Huron, Abenaki, Algonquin, and a sizable number of mission Indians had been enticed to join the undertaking. They numbered two hundred in all and made their way into the town in small groups. Added to these numbers were one hundred soldiers, each picked for his ability to endure the hardships of the march ahead. The core of the expedition, however, was to be made up of Canadians, 325 in all, selected from the best-qualified militia in each of the parishes. At their head were three seasoned leaders, each of whom was selected based on his experience and the respect he commanded from the natives. Lieutenant Mantet, a veteran of the Schenectady raid and countless encounters with the Iroquois, commanded the troops from Three Rivers. Lieutenant Courtemanche, who had served as second-in-command in the capture of Fort Loyal, commanded the detachment from Quebec. And Lieutenant La Noue, a leader of several small raids into the region, led the contingent from Montreal.1

  The expedition left Montreal on January 25, 1693, and ascended the frozen core of Lake Champlain, dragging their provisions behind them on small sleds. The route was becoming a familiar one to many involved. The army spent the nights encamped
by detachments in the woods along the lake’s edge. They cleared away the snow and built small covered fires to warm themselves, around which they spread fir branches to lie upon. Here they slept until dawn brought forth another day’s march. By the evening of February 16, they had arrived within sight of the first Mohawk castle. Remarkably, they had accomplished their trek undetected. As night set in it was agreed that the detachment would divide in two. The first division, under La Noue, would attack the nearby castle while the second, under Mantet and Courtemanche, would march on a larger Mohawk castle a mile away. Neither party encountered any resistance to their attack. La Noue found only five men and a few women in the first castle, and Mantet found even fewer occupants upon seizing the second. At daybreak La Noue burned the smaller village, gathered together his prisoners, and joined forces with the other two commanders.

  It was agreed that Courtemanche would hold the second village while Mantet and La Noue marched on a third some twenty miles away. Pushing through the snow, they reached their objective on the night of the eighteenth. As they crept forward, they were surprised to hear whooping and singing coming from within the palisades. The troops stood fast as the commanders discussed their options in whispered tones. Several Mohawk had escaped from the attack on the first two castles. Had they warned their brethren? If so, the expedition could be walking into a trap. No, the pair decided. Something else must be afoot. The troops were ordered to hold their positions. The men rubbed their arms and blew into their hands to warm themselves as the frozen hours passed. Finally, when all was quiet, Mantet ordered the troops to stand to and sent a native scout to investigate. The scout moved unseen to the palisades, paused, and then scaled the wall. Seeing no activity within, he motioned for his comrades and then lowered himself to unbar the gates. Within moments the French and their allies had fanned out across the compound. The doors to the longhouses were splintered before the onslaught. Most were killed or captured before they rose from their slumber or fell victim as they reached for their weapons. There were a few shots fired in resistance, but the surprise was near total. Within the span of a dozen minutes, thirty Mohawk warriors lay dead and almost three hundred men, women, and children were taken prisoner. It was a stunning success. The entire castle and its contents lay in French hands. The army spent the evening within the palisades. When morning arrived everything that could not be carried off along with the village was set ablaze, and the long line of prisoners was led back to the second village.

  Thus far the expedition had exceeded its expectations, but things soon began to go awry. Before leaving Montreal, the mission Indians had made a pledge to Frontenac that they would slay any Mohawk captive capable of bearing arms. It was now time for them to fulfill this pledge, but when reminded on the point, they refused. The French pressed their allies, but they remained firm in their conviction. Frustrated, the three commanders briefly deliberated on attacking Albany but decided against it. Their allies were not interested, complaining that there were too many prisoners to guard. There was also troubling news that a Dutchman captured in the Schenectady raid, and foolishly brought along by the mission Indians, had escaped on the night of the eighteenth. By now he had certainly warned the English. With no other option before them, the last of the villages was torched on the morning of the twenty-second and the expedition began its long trek back to Montreal.2

  News of the French advance reached Albany on the afternoon of February 19, when a patrol near Schenectady brought in a half-frozen Jan van Eps. Van Eps, the Dutchman who had escaped from the French war party, informed his rescuers that 350 French and 200 Indians were preparing to fall upon the upper two Mohawk castles. The militia of Schenectady and Albany was called out and the news relayed to Governor Fletcher in New York City. A number of scouting parties moved forward and a few days later confirmed the report, having heard firing from the upper two Mohawk castles. By the time a relief force had been assembled, news arrived that the lower Mohawk castle had fallen as well. With reports filtering in that the French had burned all three villages and begun their march home, Major Peter Schuyler ordered his 273-man detachment forward. He had neither the provisions nor ammunition needed for a forced march or fight, but with his Indians threatening to desert, there was little choice. Couriers were dispatched to Schenectady and Albany for supplies while the detachment made its way over the Mohawk River on the afternoon of the twenty-fourth. The next evening Schuyler was joined by 290 Mohawk braves, many unarmed. The combined force pressed on, passing the old French encampments one by one. By the evening of February 27, scouts reported that the enemy had stopped to build a palisade, which lay no more than a mile away. It was a lucky break for Schuyler. Low on provisions, and with the French several days ahead of him, it seemed that his hasty pursuit would be for naught. But for some reason the French had chosen to stand and fight, and he planned to make the most of the opportunity.3

  Having left the second Mohawk castle on the morning of the twenty-second, the French had no reason for concern. They had a several day head start over any pursuit, and even with the large number of prisoners in the column, it seemed unlikely that they would encounter any interference before crossing the Hudson and reaching the lakes. A few days out, a Mohawk brave hailed the column from a distance. The war was over, he claimed. A peace treaty had been signed in Europe. A large body of English was a few days’ march from them, but they had come to parley, not to fight. Mantet and his fellow commanders scoffed at the news, but their allies viewed it as genuine. They refused to continue the march and insisted that the column stop to speak with the English. It was a ruse to allow the English to overtake them, the French argued. They were still on the wrong side of the Hudson River, without supplies, and burdened with three hundred prisoners. To stop now would be to invite disaster. But their allies refused to budge. Just as with their promise to Frontenac they would judge what was best for them. Infuriated, the French commanders spent the day attempting to break their allies’ resolve but to no avail. Finally they agreed to wait but insisted that a palisade be constructed just in case the enemy was not intent on negotiating. With at least this much the Indians agreed, and the next several days were spent hacking a rude wooden fortification out of the forest.4

  Early on the morning of the twenty-eighth, Schuyler moved toward the French position, his flanks and van covered by a cloud of skirmishers. He feared that the French had only stopped to arrange an ambush, but when he came within sight of their defenses it became clear that this was not the case. The woods rang with shouts and hurrahs as the two sides eyed each other through the broken winter foliage. Having seen the French fortifications and uncertain of their true numbers, Schuyler began work on a palisade of his own a few musket shots from the French position. Mantet angrily pointed to the sight of the English entrenching themselves as proof of their intentions. His allies relented and admitted that they had been deceived. But the time for arguing had passed, and now there was but one choice—to fight. Bands of French Indians sallied out of their breastworks toward the English. Their French comrades and the remaining Indians soon followed them, leaving only enough men behind to guard the prisoners.

  Whooping and shouting, they darted from tree to tree, unleashing sporadic fire upon the English. The fire proved too heavy for Schuyler’s men, and they fell back into the forest only to rally and surge forward to reclaim their position. The French fell back and the English resumed work on their fortifications with such haste that several men were nearly crushed by falling trees. But it was short-lived. The French returned moments later, and once again the English were forced from their works, and once again the English counterattacked, pushing the French back. A third French attack followed and was beaten back in a similar manner. As the snow began to fall, the two sides contented themselves with sniping at each other as they tended to their wounded. Casualties had been relatively light on both sides, given the numbers involved. The English reported eight killed and fourteen wounded, and the French claimed seven killed and fif
teen wounded, one of whom was La Noue. Given the terrain and their comparable numbers, neither side was in a position to force the other from their fortifications. As the weather deteriorated, both sides eyed each other from their breastworks, the quiet stalemate broken only by the occasional musket shot or unnerving shout.

  For Schuyler the battle was something of a victory. Expecting reinforcements and supplies, he could afford to wait. The French were in sight and still on the west side of the Hudson. If sizable reinforcements arrived soon, he could cut off the enemy’s retreat and destroy their entire force. What bothered him was the lack of provisions and ammunition. Many of the men had been without food for two days, and the supply of ammunition, scarce at the start of the march, had fallen to the point where most men had only a few rounds left in their cartridge boxes. If the French attacked again, he might not be able to hold his position. His Mohawk allies, however, had found provisions of their own. As Schuyler surveyed his lines, he was invited to join a number of Mohawk who were preparing midday’s meal of broth. Not having eaten in several days, the major initially accepted but made his apologies and passed on the opportunity after a Mohawk withdrew a severed hand from the boiling kettle.

  For Mantet, Courtemanche, and the wounded La Noue the situation was much worse. They could not afford to delay any longer. Provisions were running low, and the Hudson River with its questionable crossing still lay before them. With each day the English would get stronger and they weaker. There was little choice in the matter but to march on. For once they managed to convince their allies, and it was agreed to abandon the fort the next morning and strike out for the Hudson. The weather proved an ally. The next morning was so snowy that it made it difficult for Schuyler’s scouts to get a good look at the French position, and when they approached close enough, a handful of French sentries left behind to cover the retreat popped away at the scouts, giving the impression that the main force was still present.