Raiders from New France Read online

  (3) Coureur-des-bois, hot weather

  In summer a lighter stocking cap might be worn, but equally a simple bandana. Canadians who mingled with the First Nations might copy their practice of tattooing. The shirt alone was the basic summer garment, and is worn here only with the belt-supported breechclout and mitasses, as used by the First Nations. Mitasses might be of fringed deerskin as Plate A2, but the type illustrated here, showing stripes near the upper edge, was made from a trade blanket. Again like the warriors, Canadians might carry as many as three knives – from the neck, in the sash, and from a knee-garter. The musket is a typical hunting type imported commercially. (Francis Back & René Chartrand, “Canadian Militia 1750–1760,” in Military Collector & Historian: Journal of the Company of Military Historians, Vol. XXXVI, No. 1, Spring 1984; Francis Back, “S’habiller à la canadienne,” in Cap-aux-Diamants: la revue d’histoire du Québec, No. 24, 1991; Steve Delisle, The Equipment of New France Militia 1740–1760 ( Bel Air, MD; Kebec Liber Ata, 1999))

  Denonville’s Seneca campaign, 1687

  In the meantime, small but violent incidents continued, with settlers being ambushed, killed and scalped, or disappearing forever in the hands of the Iroquois. French diplomatic relations were worsening with both the Iroquois confederacy and the Anglo-American colonies. In 1686, La Hontan notes that most of the regular troops in Canada were posted defensively in the Montreal area, but once Governor Denonville received strong reinforcements of Compagnies franches from France in June 1687, he assembled a field force. After issuing marching orders (specifying that soldiers were to keep their uniforms neat and to be clean shaven, according to Baugy’s journal), he now went on the offensive, against the Seneca nation of the Iroquois confederacy.

  His little army boarded some 200 flat-bottomed bateaux, (including two for artillery) and 200 canoes for the voyage to Fort Frontenac. There, Denonville committed a most reprehensible act. He had previously invited many Iroquois chiefs and warriors to a grand banquet at the fort. It was in fact a ruse to capture them just before his arrival, and about a hundred were taken, put in chains and eventually jailed in Quebec city. Adding insult to injury, he then chose to apply French law rigidly, and shipped 36 of them back to Marseille to pull oars as convicts in the French Navy’s Mediterranean galley fleet. Denonville’s treachery was long remembered by the Iroquois.

  A much later artist’s impression of the Iroquois night attack on the village of Lachine, August 1689. Though the losses were much exaggerated at the time, this event was indeed the bloodiest of its kind in the history of New France. The reaction was to have considerable consequences on how warfare was carried out in North America for decades to come. (Print in Histoire du Canada, 1912; author’s photo)

  From Fort Frontenac, Denonville continued to the southeast shore of Lake Ontario, landing in mid-July 1687 with 843 soldiers of the Compagnies franches, 804 militiamen, and 353 allied warriors. Encountering no opposition, they moved inland to destroy the Senecas’ towns; to avoid ambushes, Denonville marched with advance and rear guards and put out scouts on each side of the column. When they neared the first town, some 300–500 Senecas were spotted on a ridge and, in European style, the troops formed into battalions and prepared to charge, but were forestalled by a rush of warriors. Unnerved by the war cries, some soldiers and militiamen broke ranks, but La Barre immediately ordered the drums beaten to reform the line. This succeeded, and, after firing some volleys, the French-led force charged the Senecas. After a short but fierce fight the overwhelmed Senecas broke and ran (according to the French – but Colden reports that according to what Anglo-Americans learned from their allies, they retreated in good order). A report in the November 1687 Mercure Galant put Seneca losses at 24 killed and over 60 wounded, while Denonville lost an officer, four Frenchmen, and four warriors killed and 14 wounded. (The Anglo-Americans were told that about 100 Frenchmen and 10 allied warriors were killed, against 40 Seneca dead. Such competing claims are impossible to confirm.)

  The Senecas abandoned their homes and vanished into the wilderness, while the French burned their towns and crops. The damage suffered by the Senecas was apparently not too grave: apprehensive of a counterattack, Denonville had withdrawn before finding many of their hidden food caches. All in all, it was hardly a French triumph; the regular troops had set rather a lackluster example, while some Canadian militiamen had wavered when sent into battle in a ranked formation rather than as skirmishers.

  Nevertheless, satisfied that he had struck a hard blow, Denonville detached some troops to build a fort at Niagara before returning to Montreal, where he waited for the Iroquois chiefs to come in and sue for peace. Instead, while making vague peace overtures, all the Iroquois nations vowed revenge, planned raids, and sought encouragement from the Anglo-American colonies. Eventually Denonville realized one of his mistakes and asked that the Iroquois condemned to the galleys be sent back, but few were.

  Overall, Denonville’s expedition had solved nothing: the Iroquois remained just as threatening as ever and mounted several small raids. In the fall of 1687 two soldiers and four inhabitants were ambushed and killed on the western end of the island of Montreal, while several settlers were kidnapped near Chambly. Disease broke out among isolated garrisons, leading to fears that outposts would become untenable; sure enough, during summer 1688 Denonville chose to withdraw the now very sickly garrison from the new fort at Niagara, and the following year that of Fort Frontenac – thus abandoning Lake Ontario.

  Meanwhile, the “Glorious Revolution” in England had deposed King James II, who had been well disposed towards France, and installed in his place William of Orange, the Dutch archrival of Louis XIV, as its King William III. The new British king decided to recognize the Iroquois as allied subjects who would enjoy his protection. In August 1688, Sir Edmund Andros, governor of New England, informed Denonville of the Iroquois’ new status; he added that he would ensure they did no harm to the French, but few believed this was either credible or possible.

  By now French influence and trade on lakes Ontario and Erie had all but vanished, and Frontenac’s diplomatic achievements were in ruins: the allied First Nations were starting to doubt the power of their current French Onontio. Despite successive deployments to New France of about 30 companies totaling some 1,500 French Navy regulars since 1683, the fears of many Canadians seemed justified when news came that Britain had declared war on France in May 1689 (in the War of the Grand Alliance, 1689–97, known in America as “King William’s War”). Despite the obvious expectation that the Iroquois would now be fighting alongside the Anglo-Americans, initially the confederacy remained relatively quiet; some in Canada even wondered if they might not actually wish to negotiate a separate peace.

  C

  COMPAGNIES FRANCHES, EARLY–MID 18th CENTURY

  (1) Sergeant, garrison dress, c.1720s

  By 1689 there were 28 Independent Naval Companies in New France, though in 1699 the establishment of a company was reduced from 50 to 30 men, with a total establishment of 84 officers and 840 sergeants and privates. This figure reconstructs a uniform worn in Canada; those worn in Acadia and at Placentia in c. 1701-16 had notable differences – e.g. sergeants had blue coats.

  The tricorn hat was edged with false-gold lace for soldiers and gold for sergeants. Over the white shirt and neck-cloth all ranks wore a long-sleeved, single-breasted, collarless veste cut nearly as long as the uniform coat. The collarless, single-breasted justaucorps uniform coat was of gray-white cloth, this gris-blanc shade varying considerably. Lined with blue, the coat was normally worn open revealing the veste. Before 1701, 60 brass coat buttons were provided; in c. 1701-16, 24 white metal; and from c. 1716 on, 36 brass. The coat had a deep central vent at the rear and, flanking this, a number of pleats from rear hip buttons; these latter were the upper of three buttons spaced down side vents that concealed functioning pockets. The pocket flaps on the front were false, which allowed fanciful placing of the five buttons, and the coat had a single left shoul
der strap of coat-cloth to secure the sling of the original bullet pouch. The soldier’s blue en botte cuffs had three or four buttons at the top and plain buttonholes; the sergeant’s, a top edging and (c.1716–50) buttonhole “loops” of gold lace. The veste, knee breeches and stockings were gray-white until c. 1716-18 and blue thereafter, and the high-tongued shoes black with a brass buckle. This sergeant’s weapons are a straight sword with a gilded brass hilt (emerging through side and rear vents of his coat), and the 1714 halberd for Naval troops.

  A 1747 account by Walter Butler mentioned a young French officer “dressed in blue with a broad gold lace,” possibly his laced uniform veste; this garment is likely to have been worn instead of a coat by all ranks during summer on the frontier. (Michel Petard, “L’Homme de 1736: Le Fusilier au début de la Guerre de Succession d’Autriche,” in Uniformes 55, May–June 1980; Michel Petard, “L’Homme de 1751: Les compagnies franches de la Marine,” in Uniformes 34, November–December 1976; René Chartrand, French Military Arms and Armor in America 1503–1783 (Mowbray, Woonsocket RI; 2016))

  (2) Soldier, winter field dress, mid-1690s

  By the time of Frontenac’s 1696 summer expedition it is not certain how the regulars were dressed, but a mixture of both European (for the majority) and Canadian styles is probable. There was a short-lived experiment in 1694–96 to issue soldiers in Canada with these capots of gray-white serge “garnished with blue serge [from] Aumale and cuffs and buttons” (F1A, 8). Supplies of the European uniform were periodically sent up to small western forts until about 1732, when Intendant Gilles Hocquart ended this expensive practice. Thereafter, soldiers posted to such outposts left Montreal wearing their regulation dress but would then procure replacement clothing from the fort’s trade store, keeping their issue uniform for formal occasions, and wearing more comfortable and practical alternatives for everyday service. These were not always from trade stores, however, and references mention soldiers’ capots d’ordonnance (“regulation capots”) made from old uniform coats, which again seems to suggest gray-white with blue cuffs.

  Into the early 18th century equipment consisted of the gibicière pouch slung across from the left shoulder with an attached or separate powder flask and priming flask, and a buff sword belt at the waist, the sword usually being replaced with a tomahawk. This soldier wears the less common of two types of canvas knapsack with canvas or leather straps; this was shaped as a bag, with the top gathered and tied, and our man has hitched to it a small cooking cauldron or “kettle.”

  (3) Soldier, summer field dress, early 1740s

  The fatigue caps were made from worn-out uniforms; those in Canada were probably gray-white with a blue turn-up, or all blue, and may have sported false-gold edging and a lily badge in front (uniformity was not a priority in the wilderness). The exact form of the early bonnet de police is unclear, but scholars suggest that at least by the 18th century it was made à la dragonne, with a long tasseled bag as illustrated. The shortened capot for warm seasons is worn over the shirt and Indigenous-style breechclout and mitasses.

  Early in the 18th century the gibicière was replaced with the gargoussier cartridge box (holding nine rounds in a drilled, slightly curved wooden block) worn on the right front of the waist belt. From about 1715 to the late 1740s its leather flap was edged with a white saw-tooth border and bore a central white anchor, this being replaced thereafter with a plain flap stamped with the royal arms. The slightly curved, flattened powder flask issued throughout the first half of the 18th century was made of molded horn with brass fittings, and hung from its own narrow buff strap.

  The waist belt now had a double frog for bayonet and sword or tomahawk; from 1722 to the early 1750s the 18in (45.7cm) bayonet had a long shank between socket and blade. The musket shown is the Navy model ordered in 1734, with a shorter 42in (106.7cm) barrel and a single barrel-band for a forward sling-ring on the left side. The knapsack is the more popular of the two types: a rectangular canvas bag slung on a single diagonal canvas or leather strap from right shoulder to left hip, its doubled top being folded down outside and secured by a cord around the pack.

  Sketch map of main expeditions and raids, 1684–1696. The first were by La Barre (1684) and Denonville (1687) down into the Iroquois country east and south of Lake Ontario. Then came the three French raids (1690) from Montreal on “Corlar” (Schenectady), from Trois-Rivières on Salmon Falls, and from Quebec on Casco (Falmouth). The same year saw Phipp’s [sic] capture of Port-Royal in Acadia (Nova Scotia), and unsuccessful siege of Quebec, and Winthrop’s abortive march to Lake Champlain. Frontenac crossed south of Lake Ontario to attack the Iroquois nations (1696). During “Queen Anne’s War” raids would reach Deerfield and Haverhill near Albany and Boston (1704 & 1708). (From Histoire du Canada, 1912; author’s photo)

  “King William’s War”: Lachine, 1689

  That delusion was destroyed on the night of August 4/5, 1689 at Lachine, a large village just west of Montreal. Allegedly as many as 1,200–1,500 Iroquois approached in canoes under cover of heavy rain and a hailstorm. Whatever the true numbers, they landed quietly, and surrounded most of the houses without waking the inhabitants. At a signal, war-cries rent the night, doors were battered down, and dazed and terrified men, women and children were killed or seized, while 56 of the 77 houses were set on fire. Once it seemed that Montreal itself would not be attacked, soldiers eventually came out of nearby forts to intervene, but far too late, and some were repulsed in skirmishes with Iroquois rearguards.

  While some 250 villagers somehow managed to escape, about 24 were killed on the spot and some 42 made prisoners. However, these relatively modest figures were only carefully computed a century later by Désiré Girouard; on August 6, 1689, when news of what became notorious as the “Lachine Massacre” broke, it was as if a thunderbolt had struck New France. According to panic-stricken accounts, more than 200 people had been butchered, and as many as 120 prisoners had been cruelly burned alive. Stories of unprintable atrocities inflicted on some of the victims spread crippling fear and desperation throughout the colony.

  Note

  2 The forts on the Bay were later retaken by the English, and subsequently captured again by the French, until the 1713 Treaty of Utrecht finally conceded Hudson’s Bay to Britain.

  RAID WARFARE

  Frontenac’s return

  Meanwhile, in Versailles, the embattled Louis XIV had not totally forgotten New France. Clearly, Denonville had not produced the desired results, and while the king would not learn of the Lachine disaster until the late fall of 1689, as early as that spring he had understood the colony’s need for a better governor. Called to an audience with the king, the Comte de Frontenac was told simply: “I am sending you back to Canada, where I expect you will serve me as well as you previously have. I ask you for no more.” Frontenac was now 68 years old, but as fiery as ever. Other French plans delayed his departure, but on October 15, 1689 Frontenac arrived at Quebec city to be greeted by cheering crowds, bonfires, and cannon salutes. A traumatized population were looking to him as their savior.

  It was essential to reassure the allied First Nations that their Onontio was back and meant business, and Frontenac must soon have conferred with François Hertel de La Fresnière, the “commandant” of allied First Nations who had been appointed by La Barre (in modern terms, this title meant a French chief adviser imbedded with the Indigenous peoples). Born in Trois-Rivières, Hertel had been a soldier in that town’s garrison when only 15 years old, and, like Charles Le Moyne, had acquired exceptional knowledge of Indigenous languages and culture, in his case during a two-year captivity amongst the Iroquois from which he managed to escape.3 Fascinated by the First Nations, Hertel became a valued interpreter, and volunteered for many parties to oppose Iroquois marauders. He understood that allied warriors were independent, unpredictable, and totally unsuited to European military discipline, but believed they could have a very positive effect if joined with organized war parties of French soldiers and Canadian mili
tiamen drawing upon the practical lessons of the 1686 raid to Hudson’s Bay.

  There is no known period likeness of Louis de Bruade, Comte de Frontenac (1622–98), the most famous governor-general of New France, but this late 19th-century statue by Philippe Hébert at Quebec’s National Assembly has become his image in countless publications. His determined expression as he points to the cannon recalls his defiance of the New England siege of Quebec city in October 1690. As important as his fiery energy was his understanding of the First Nations, whose negotiated assistance was crucial. Apart from more serious inducements, he often entertained their chiefs as guests at his table, where he might even offer them the rare novelty of ice cream in the colors of several flavors. (Private collection; author’s photo)

  Frontenac now found many of his officers promoting a radically new and different style of fighting, and eager to put their concepts to the test. To Frontenac and nearly everyone else in New France, the real culprits of Lachine were the Anglo-Americans, who had to be made to understand that they would suffer consequences for encouraging such outrages. Despite the huge disparity in numbers, this was not an impossible ambition. Massachusetts had 58,000 inhabitants of European origin, Connecticut some 22,000, New York 14,000, and Rhode Island 5,000, giving a total population of perhaps 100,000. By contrast, New France had about 12,000 souls. However, New France had the great advantage of a unified military command under its governor, more than 100 professional officers and up to 1,500 regular soldiers, while the manpower pool of the well-organized Canadian Militia boasted a high proportion of men familiar with firearms and comfortable in the wilderness.