The Abenaki were furious over the deception and threatened to burn down the New England frontier. For his part Stoughton chastised the Abenaki over their conduct and threatened retribution on the hostages. The governor then attempted to defuse the situation by considering it a criminal act and demanding that the Wabanaki hand over the ringleaders of the attack. In a gesture of goodwill and a display that Massachusetts was willing to negotiate a hostage exchange, Stoughton released one of his Abenaki prisoners to carry his message.
Both sides were cautious not to let the matter slip out of hand. Stoughton was facing a serious financial crisis, a disenchanted populace, and a shortage of troops to man the frontier. The Abenaki also had good reasons not to aggravate the situation. The English held a number of their relatives in Boston and would certainly hang them if there were a major attack. To make matters worse the supplies promised by the French had failed to materialize. Given the circumstances, something of an unofficial truce took hold along the frontier. The handful of French officers in the area tried to incite the Wabanaki back to the warpath, but without presents and munitions to supply them their words fell on deaf ears.9
Fall turned to winter and winter to spring without a major incident along the Maine-New Hampshire frontier. In June 1695, Villebon summoned the representatives from the various Wabanaki tribes to meet with him and Father Thury. The intent was to encourage their efforts against the English, but this was not the message the governor received from his guests. “It was our need for many things, and our distress at seeing our families destitute, which drove us to make overtures to the English,” the spokesman from the Kennebec tribe informed Villebon when questioned on the matter. “But it only depends on thee that we do not in the future,” he followed in a clear indictment of the French failure to support their allies. At the conclusion of the talks it was clear that the Wabanaki were still in the French camp, but it was also clear that without material support they would do little to forward the conflict.10
Looking for an avenue to open peace talks Stoughton arranged a small prisoner exchange in the summer of 1695. The effort yielded the desired results, and a larger conference and prisoner exchange was agreed upon at Fort Pemaquid in August. Hope was quickly dashed, however, when the English failed to produce the Wabanaki taken at the fort under a white flag the previous fall. From here talks quickly broke down, much to the delight of the French.
The failure brought forth an immediate concern for the frontier, and troops were dispatched to bolster the defenses of the towns and posts likely to be attacked. There were a few sporadic attacks, the worst falling upon Tewksbury, New Hampshire, where ten were killed and several carried away. In Newbury the attackers carried off nine inhabitants only to slay all but one when a pursuing party of English militia got too close. These incidents were alarming, but in general, most had expected much worse. The same could not be said for the garrison of Fort Pemaquid. Being located in the midst of hostile territory any foray out of the fort bore a certain risk and level of caution. A woodcutting party of twenty-four men forgot this dictum and was ambushed in September, leaving four dead and half a dozen wounded. From that point on the garrison stayed on a constant state of alert.11
The lack of Wabanaki activity during this time was also the result of an active English naval presence along the coast of Maine and Acadia, as well as their establishment of Fort William Henry at Pemaquid. The latter location was a problem, as the Abenaki had often sought negotiations with the English garrison to obtain the items the French couldn’t supply. This collusion became Governor Villebon’s focus not long after the attack on Durham. In making a case to the minister of the marine for an expedition against the stronghold, Villebon saluted the foresight of his English adversaries. “They judged very correctly that in building Pemaquid, they were depriving our Indians of the power of going freely coastwise on their expeditions; embarrassing them in an extraordinary degree in hunting Deer which were very abundant thereabout, and that the Indians, finding themselves thus straitened, would be obliged to enter into negotiations, as has in fact been the case.” Seizing Pemaquid would not only recement the Wabanaki-French alliance, but it would also remove the strongest English position along the Maine coast, opening up a large stretch of the coastline with its excellent harbors for French use. To accomplish the task the governor called for three ships—a pair of frigates and a flyboat—to land troops. A force of one hundred soldiers along with a like number of sailors from the fleet would be joined by Villebon and two hundred Abenaki once they landed. With a force this size it would take little to invest the fort, and from here the governor estimated that a battery of four eighteen-pounders and a pair of mortars would be sufficient to reduce the stone fortress, especially when supported by the cannon on board the frigates.12
A more pressing problem was the English naval activity, but there was little Villebon could do in that regard. A pair of frigates had routinely fitted out in Boston each year to cruise the Maine-Acadia coast in search of prizes. The warships, coupled with a number of privateers, had a devastating effect on the Acadian fishing fleet and often intercepted French supply vessels. It appeared to the Wabanaki that the English ruled the seas, and that was why the French could not supply them, which was in part true, but it did not account for logistical failures and errors wholly within French hands.
At the beginning of 1695, the French sought to assert some control over the coastal waterways. A privateer named Pierre Maisonnat Baptiste outfitted a forty-five-ton corvette named the Le Bonne with a handful of cannon and took to sea. In mid-January Baptiste’s efforts proved successful when he captured a sixty-ton schooner loaded with molasses and sugar from the West Indies, but the corsair was not finished. After taking on provisions he set out from the St. John River on April 21 in search of more prey. By mid-May the Le Bonne had returned with a twenty-five-ton English prize in tow. Villebon then sent Baptiste to Spanish Bay with orders to wait for the anticipated French supply fleet and warned him of reports that a thirty-six-gun English frigate and another twenty-two-gun vessel were being outfitted in Boston along with a large row galley.
The orders proved unfortunate for the Le Bonne. While sailing to Spanish Bay the vessel was damaged in a gale and set into a small harbor to make repairs. The next morning as Baptiste sailed out of the bay, he encountered the thirty-six-gun New England frigate Sorling. Although badly outgunned, Baptiste put up a running fight for the better part of the day, but the disparity in firepower eventually caught up with the Le Bonne. The vessel’s pilot and eight of its crew had been killed, and after being repeatedly hit, the ship was taking on water. The shattered rigging left few options, as it was nearly impossible to maneuver, so bowing to the inevitable Baptiste ran the vessel aground, which allowed him and the crew to escape. The Sorling sent a boarding party over to the Le Bonne and at high tide refloated the French corvette, but she proved too damaged and sank shortly thereafter.13
The loss of the Le Bonne had brought more New England fishing vessels to the area which, coupled with the Sorling’s activities, only seemed to reinforce the Wabanaki position. On July 8, this changed when Captain Bonaventure arrived at St. John in the frigate Envieux. Bonaventure informed Villebon that he had arrived at Pentagout on June 19, where he had been informed by Father Thury that a forty-gun English frigate had been seen at St. John. After taking on provisions he sought out the enemy warship and around three o’clock on the afternoon of July 5 he found his quarry. The thirty-six-gun Sorling was an even match for the Frenchman. The two vessels dueled for five hours, exchanging broadsides and trying to maneuver to rake the other from stem to stern. Bonaventure had severed the Sorling’s main topmast, and part of the Englishman’s mizzenmast had splintered upon a direct hit and fallen on the aft deck. The Envieux was struck hard as well, but Bonaventure believed that if the last enemy broadside hadn’t cut a number of his lines and damaged his mainmast he would have taken the enemy vessel. Bonaventure unloaded his supplies and made repairs before se
tting sail for Quebec on July 21. The timing proved fortunate, as not long after the Sorling and the twenty-four-gun frigate Newport arrived at the St. John River looking for the French warship.14
The French supplies seemed to have had the desired effect on the Wabanaki, and Bonaventure’s actions certainly questioned any perceptions they had regarding English naval dominance, but this did not translate into what Governor Villebon had hoped. Small bands of Wabanaki did strike at isolated targets along the frontier but not in the numbers needed to alarm the English. Soon the season for such things slipped away, and the conflict sputtered out. It almost seemed as if both sides were resting for what was to be a tumultuous year to come.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Peace Offensive
ALTHOUGH THE PEACE OVERTURES made by the Iroquois during the summer and fall of 1693 failed to materialize, a new opportunity presented itself in the spring of 1694 when three Mohawk representatives arrived at Montreal wishing to speak with the Christianized Mohawk of the Mountain and Sault missions. After questioning these three men Callières sent them to Quebec to speak with Frontenac. Here the envoys laid three wampum belts before the governor to symbolize each of their three propositions. The first two dealt with the Christianized Mohawk, calling for them to lay down their hatchets and return home, while the third called for the French to open negotiations with the Five Nations at Albany.
As Governor Fletcher suspected, Frontenac gave an angry response. The count kicked the belts aside and railed at the Mohawk representatives for thinking that they could try to seduce or frighten away the mission Indians. “You deceive yourselves,” the count growled at them. “They are submissive and obedient to me, as true Children ought to be to their fathers.” Sensing an opportunity Frontenac made a counterproposal. The envoys had requested a forty-five-day truce, in part to allow the mission Indians to travel to the Mohawk villages if they wished. Frontenac agreed to this truce under the condition that an Iroquois delegation consisting of two chiefs of every nation come to Quebec during that period. If this did not happen, the governor warned the delegates, “I will no longer listen to your voice, and should you return to submit to me any new proposition, I protest and declare to you, that I will commit to the kettle those who shall be so rash as to dare to undertake such an embassy.”1
Whether the governor was bluffing or not, his tone seemed to yield results. In June the Iroquois delegates arrived at Montreal and from there traveled to Quebec. Frontenac was delighted by the news and arranged a formal welcome for the ambassadors. When the negotiations opened on May 24, the Iroquois were quick to state their desire for peace. “You have devoured all our chief men and scarce any more are left,” the Five Nations spokesman informed the governor. They wished to bury the hatchet with the French and their allies. To show their good faith the delegation returned three French prisoners and only asked that Frontenac consider releasing some of his own in return.
The count did indeed release several Mohawk prisoners, and as a sign of sincerity on the part of the Iroquois he called for them to return to Montreal in eighty days with all of the French and Indian prisoners in their possession. In return the governor would send representatives to his high country allies to convince them to suspend hostilities and meet with the Iroquois at the end of the eighty-day period. Frontenac then informed the envoys that they should reconsider the English influence over their actions. “My war with them has nothing to do with my war against you,” he pointed out. “They are two things entirely different.” It would not be the last time the count uttered such words to the Five Nations.2
In a stroke of good luck a number of Huron and Ottawa chieftains arrived at Montreal before the Iroquois delegates had departed. On their way to Montreal this group had encountered one of the governor’s parties heading west with news of the negotiations. Frontenac used the opportunity to reconvene the conference and present the Iroquois proposals to his allies. After hearing from the Iroquois, the Huron and Ottawa chieftains were convinced and agreed to spread the news and return to Montreal in eighty days to conclude a more lasting peace treaty with the Five Nations.
On September 22, a handful of the Iroquois and most of the high country representatives gathered for a conference at Montreal. The Iroquois brought thirteen prisoners as a sign of goodwill, but they needed more time to collect the others, and this was why the other delegates had not arrived. Frontenac was skeptical but granted the time, in part because he required it as much as the Iroquois. Earlier in the year the French court had informed the governor that it was their opinion that the Iroquois were not serious about the negotiations and were just using the time to gather strength while they waited for another English effort, such as a second attack on Quebec. It seemed to the court that only a major expedition against the Five Nations would convince them to carry through with a lasting peace treaty. In this sense the truce benefited the governor as much as the Iroquois in allowing him to collect the necessary supplies and munitions for a campaign. True to the governor’s initial instincts the promised Iroquois delegates did not arrive that fall, and with the onset of winter there was no expectation of them until spring. Thus the year passed with little accomplished in the way of a lasting peace treaty.3
On the surface it would seem Frontenac’s reluctance to discard the peace negotiations was based on his objectives and motivated by a misunderstanding of the state of the Five Nations. The end game for the count did not include the extreme condition—that being the destruction of the Iroquois. In fact such a conclusion would prove catastrophic for New France, as the high country tribes, without the Iroquois blocking their access to Albany, would quickly succumb to the lure of cheaper English trade goods, ultimately forcing New France to either give up much of the west or fight a costly war that it was not likely to win. On the other hand, the Iroquois could not be allowed to remain strong enough to threaten New France’s native allies and their commerce, but at the same time they had to be strong enough to bar the high country nations access to Albany and strong enough to prevent English merchants from trading directly with the Canadian tribes. Lastly, it was imperative that the Iroquois be politically separated from the English so as to prevent the latter from inciting the Five Nations against New France in the future.
It does not take much to realize that the solution set containing the governor’s peace terms was small and, just as importantly, difficult to judge. Much of the answer depended on an accurate assessment of the strength and will of the Five Nations. By the summer of 1694, the Iroquois were a fraction of their former strength. They had lost nearly a thousand men to the French and their allies since the fighting had started—close to two thirds of their fighting strength. But matters were far worse than losses to the enemy. Although the Iroquois incorporated a large number of captives into their tribes during this time, disease and epidemic far surpassed what musket and hatchet could accomplish.4
There was also the admission of their weakened state to both the English and French to consider. This only seemed to confirm that the toll from the conflict had driven the Five Nations further away from the English, and there was little doubt in anyone’s mind that the Iroquois had borne the brunt of the conflict against the French. For Frontenac it seemed obvious that the inactivity and lack of commitment on the part of the English, coupled with the Five Nations mounting losses, had brought them to this point. After all, they had sent representatives seeking a treaty. Certainly the English did not approve, nor would the English be so foolish as to use the conference as a ploy for fear that their wavering allies might actually secure a peace with the French.
To the count it seemed that the conditions were almost right to accomplish his objectives. A push or two in the right direction might secure his goals without a major campaign, and in this sense exploration of a peaceful settlement was difficult to argue with. As the months passed, however, many, Callières and Champigny among them, questioned the Iroquois motives and the governor’s patient response. It was almost as if F
rontenac had not remembered the Iroquois tactics of the past or foolishly expected that his reputation among the Five Nations was so great that it would carry the day.
In March 1695, two chiefs from the Mountain and Sault missions returned from the Mohawk villages with an Iroquois spokesman. Stopping at Montreal, the trio was interviewed by Callières. After a number of long conversations the governor became convinced that the Mohawk had a sincere desire for peace, having told the English that “Onontio had conquered them without the English affording them any assistance.” The remaining elements of the Five Nations, however, were wholly in the English camp. Frontenac did speak with the Mohawk ambassador, and little came of the effort. He too believed that the Mohawk wanted peace, but news from the west was that the other members of the Five Nations were launching attacks on New France’s allies—hardly the type of conduct one would expect from those professing a desire for peace.5
With the improving weather came the return of the yearly rumors of an English attack on the French capital. Work on the fortifications of Quebec restarted as did preparations to repair Fort Frontenac. By early July Frontenac was in Montreal completing his final arrangements for an expedition to repair his old fort. It was an impressive array of power. One hundred and ten militia from Three Rivers and Quebec accompanied the governor to the island, where he raised another one hundred and fifty troops. Two hundred Marines and a like number of mission Indians had filled out the count’s ranks. Numbering some seven hundred in all, with thirty-six officers under the command of the Chevalier de Crisasy, many wondered what was preventing the count from striking a blow against the Iroquois with this force as the expedition pushed out into the St. Lawrence.6
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