Count Frontenac / Makers of Canada, Volume 3

by William Dawson LeSueur

The arrival of Phipps in Boston with his shattered and diminished fleet, and shrunken and disheartened forces, produced a feeling almost of despair. The success of the expedition had been counted on with the greatest certainty. Cotton Mather declares that he "never understood that any of the faithful did in their prayers arise to any assurance that the expedition should prosper in all respects; yet they sometimes in their devotions uttered their persuasion that Almighty God had heard them in this thing, that the English army should not fall by the hands of the French enemy." The higher criticism would probably detect in this declaration a large ex post facto element. The English army did not exactly fall by the hands of the French enemy; but between the French enemy, cold, tempest and sickness, the expedition had been a most disastrous failure, which "the faithful" had certainly been far from thinking was, or could be, in the designs of Providence. There was no money in the treasury with which to pay the troops, who soon began to be clamorous and threatened mutiny. Finally, an issue of paper money was decided on, and the difficulty was thus tided over; but it was long before this questionable currency, which was only receivable in payment of public debts, and which for a time circulated at a discount of from twenty-five to thirty per cent., was fully redeemed.

The period now opening was destined to be one of savage border warfare. The Iroquois—particularly the Mohawks—were still on the war-path, and were resuming all their ancient boldness in their attacks on the French settlements. In the spring of 1691 there were some informal and, as they turned out, futile negotiations for peace, brought on by the fact that a party of Mohawks who had captured ten mission Indians near Chambly, sent them back a few days later by three of their own people, who entered the fort at St. Louis unarmed, and began to talk of peace. Callières, the governor of Montreal, did not quite know what to make of it, and meantime kept his troops scouring the neighbourhood. It seems probable that the Mohawks were really more anxious to draw away their kinsmen of the Laprairie mission from the French than to make peace with the latter. On more than one occasion the mission Indians had shown reluctance in making war on their own people, and something of the same feeling existed on the side of the heathen warriors, who always hoped that they might some day reclaim their separated brethren. Meantime the raiding went on, but took the form chiefly of killing the cattle and burning the houses of the settlers, though now and again one or two of the latter would be killed or carried off. It was in the early summer of 1691 that a somewhat memorable incident in this wild warfare occurred. A party of forty or fifty Oneidas had in one of their forays taken possession of an abandoned house at Repentigny, a point on the north shore of the river St. Lawrence, just opposite the north-eastern end of the Island of Montreal. Possibly they had captured some brandy in their prowlings round the country; but whatever the reason was, they were not exercising their usual vigilance. They were observed by a certain Captain de Mine in charge of a detachment of soldiers, who succeeded in retreating from the spot and crossing over to some islands in the river without attracting their attention. Here he was joined by M. de Vaudreuil, at the head of a picked force of Canadians and some regular soldiers; and the combined force then crossed over to the main-shore, a little below the house which the savages were making their headquarters. Approaching with the greatest caution, they found some Indians asleep outside. These they killed with a volley at short range; then rushing forward they surrounded the house. The Indians within fired from the windows and killed four or five of the French, including M. de Bienville. Their fate, however, was sealed. The French fired in at the windows, and finally set fire to the house, when the unhappy savages, driven forth by the flames, were, all save one, either killed or captured. The sequel is not pleasant to relate. The captives numbered five. One was given to the Ottawa Indians, for what purpose does not appear; one, a lad of fourteen years, was spared, because his family had protected the Jesuit father, Millet; and the remaining three were distributed to the farmers of Pointe aux Trembles, Boucherville and Repentigny, who burnt them in retaliation, it is said, for lost relatives.

The attack on Quebec had awakened the French government to the necessity of strengthening the forces in Canada. On the 1st July a frigate, the Soleil d'Afrique, famous in her day as a very rapid sailer, arrived at Quebec, bringing much needed stores and supplies, and twelve days later a dozen more vessels, under the command of a M. du Tast, appeared in the harbour. Just about the same time a deputation of Ottawas had made their way to Quebec to discuss various matters, but particularly trade questions, with the governor. The one dream of the Ottawas was cheap goods. Probably had they been manufacturers their one dream would have been a high tariff. It was a bad time to ask for cheap goods—no time, indeed, in Canada was very good for that purpose—as the war between France and England was interfering considerably with trade, and such goods as there were in the country were held at exorbitant prices. Other gratifications, however, were afforded them: the sight of the fourteen vessels in the harbour, the drill of the soldiers and sailors, the firing of salutes, the illumination of the ships and of the town—for the arrival of the fleet was made an occasion for prolonged rejoicings and festivities—produced a powerful impression on minds unaccustomed to such wonders. They were also greatly charmed with an entertainment given at the château on the 22nd of July to which they were invited, and at which, according to the official narrative, "thirty beautiful ladies, entering very properly into the views of their host, paid them every attention." On the following day they were dismissed, laden with gifts, but not before they had been shown the large stores of war material that had been received from France, which it was hoped would give them a lively idea of the resources Canada possessed for making successful war upon her enemies. Early in the season Frontenac had despatched the Sieur de Courtemanche to Michilimackinac to convey to the tribes of that region the news of the defeat of the English before Quebec, and to inquire what they were doing against the Mohawks. The reply given was to the effect that a number of their bands had gone on the war-path, that others were about to start, and that the Miamis and Illinois had also moved against the enemy, and forced the Senecas to abandon some of their towns. As regards the Ottawas and Hurons the case was probably overstated; otherwise the deputation to Quebec, which started after Courtemanche had left Michilimackinac, would have laid no little stress on the sacrifices which their people were making.

The month of August of this year (1691) was marked by one of the most important and stubborn engagements which had yet taken place between the French of Canada and their English and Indian enemies. The Iroquois, who since the massacre at Schenectady had been doing a good deal of fighting at the instance of their English allies, began to get a little tired of the business, in which, as they thought, the parties most concerned were not taking their proper share. They spoke out so plainly on the subject that it was decided at Albany to organize an expedition of whites to act in concert with the Mohawks and Mohegans or Wolves. The entire force, the command of which was given to Major Peter Schuyler, consisted of two hundred and sixty men, one hundred and twenty being English or Dutch, and the rest Indians. Going by way of Lake Champlain they descended the Richelieu to within a few miles of Chambly, where they left a detachment to guard their canoes, and then pushed on towards Laprairie de la Madeleine, the scene of Captain John Schuyler's exploit of the year before. Here a force of seven or eight hundred men, under Callières, was awaiting them, an English prisoner captured by an Indian party near Albany having given information of their approach. As it happened, however, Callières had been smitten with a serious fever, and was not himself in active command. The regular troops were encamped to the left of the fort, which was close to the river, and the Canadians and Indians to the right. If a contemporary historian, Belmont,[51] may be trusted, the Canadians were well supplied with brandy, and used it only too freely. However that may have been, Schuyler's men, about an hour before dawn, attacked the Canadian camp, and drove the enemy before them into the fort, killing two or three, and also six Ottawa Indians who were sleeping under their canoes. The firing roused the regulars who, rushing to the scene, were met by a deadly volley. They rallied, however, and Schuyler, finding himself greatly outnumbered, retreated to a ravine, where he made a stand, and, as he states, repulsed his assailants. What seems to be certain is that he made a deliberate retreat towards his base on the Richelieu without being pursued, notwithstanding the superiority of the enemy. Amongst those who were killed on the French side were M. de St. Cirque, second in command to M. de Callières, M. d'Hosta, a valuable officer who had accompanied Nicolas Perrot on his mission to the Ottawas the year before, Captain Désquérat, and Lieutenant Domergue.

This, however, was not the end. Could Schuyler have retired after having inflicted comparatively heavy loss on the enemy, and sustained but little himself, he might have boasted of a signal success as these things went. This, however, was a case in which recipere gradum was destined to be much the harder part of his task. There was an enemy posted on the line of his retreat, and a brave and determined one. Valrennes, an officer of birth and of tried ability, former commandant of Fort Frontenac, had been sent to Chambly with a force consisting of one hundred and sixty regulars and militia, together with thirty or forty Indians, his instructions being to defend that place if attacked; but, should the enemy take the road to Laprairie, then to post himself in their rear and cut them off from their canoes. It was hoped in this way to catch them between two fires. Had this scheme been fully carried out, Schuyler's whole force would indubitably have been killed or captured. Owing, however, to the unexplained inactivity of the main body at Laprairie, the brunt of the second fight had to be borne by the detachment under Valrennes, which was somewhat, though not much, inferior in number to Schuyler's command. Valrennes posted his men behind two large trees that had fallen across the road on an acclivity, and, from this position of vantage, inflicted considerable loss upon the invaders. The latter, however, exhibited great bravery, and finally fought their way through, but were compelled to leave their dead behind to the number of nearly forty. Schuyler, in his narrative of the expedition, admits that he was uncommonly glad to see the last of so obstinate a foe. Why the small band of about twenty-five men left in charge of the canoes was not first overpowered, as it might easily have been, and the canoes destroyed, does not appear. Schuyler on reaching the river found men and canoes safe, and, re-embarking with his diminished force, succeeded in regaining Albany.

The courage and address displayed by Valrennes in this encounter won him a great increase of reputation. As we have seen, the French lost a number of valuable officers in the fight at Laprairie. The English loss was almost entirely incurred in the second fight; in the first, Schuyler says he lost but one Christian and one Indian. The reason given in the French narrative for not pursuing the enemy is that, after an hour and a half's fighting and some previous heavy marching, neither French nor Indians had strength for any further exertion—that they could not even have defended themselves had the fight been prolonged. This rather tends to confirm Schuyler's statement that, after breaking through their position, he turned about and forced them to retreat. He and his men then effected their own retreat without molestation, carrying with them their wounded, who must have been numerous.

The news of the advance of the English had caused Frontenac to proceed to Three Rivers with such troops as could be spared from Quebec. He had not been there many days when news of the actual fighting came to hand. A couple of days later Valrennes himself arrived with fuller details; and gave so glowing an account of the valour of his troops and the losses inflicted on the enemy, that the depression which had at first been caused by the serious list of casualties amongst the officers, was in a large measure removed. He was accompanied by the famous Indian, Orehaoué, previously mentioned as having been brought out by Frontenac from France, and who during this summer had been rendering valuable service in different expeditions. This chieftain had with him an Onondaga Indian captured by him in the West, whom he presented to Frontenac. This was the day of reprisals, and Frontenac handed over the unfortunate to the Algonquins to be dealt with after their manner. The Algonquins were in due course proceeding to burn him, when a Huron gave him a coup de grâce with his tomahawk, which the writer of the official narrative seems almost to think was a mistake, observing that "the Algonquins are better judges of these things."

Notwithstanding the decisive repulse of the Boston expedition, no small anxiety was felt lest there might be a renewal of attack from the same quarter. Phipps had threatened to come back, and shortly after his arrival at Boston had sailed for England in the hope of engaging the king's interest and assistance in the matter. Frontenac thought it prudent, all things considered, to detain two of the ships which came out in July until the 3rd September. He then commissioned one of them to convey to Acadia M. de Villebon, whom he was sending to that province as lieutenant-governor. The New Englanders had taken no measures whatever for securing their control of the country; no officer of any kind, no garrison, however small, had been left there to represent English authority, so that all Villebon had to do was to haul down an English flag which he found peacefully flying, and run up a French one in its place. Reporting to the minister, M. de Pontchartrain, in a despatch dated 20th October 1691, the re-establishment of French control, Frontenac takes occasion to recommend that Boston should be attacked by sea. Not only would it make Canada more secure, but there would be a great satisfaction in destroying such a nest of hardened parliamentarians. Frontenac's sympathies, as may be supposed, were all with the Stuarts and the divine right of kings. Unfortunately for the realization of his wishes, neither Frontenac nor his master had any ships available for the suggested undertaking. All that was possible at the moment was to incite the Abenaquis to inflict as much damage as possible on the hated enemy. In a despatch written a few months earlier, Frontenac had given a very lively account of the services rendered by these faithful and bloodthirsty allies. "It is impossible," he says, "to describe the ravages these Indians commit for fifty leagues around Boston, capturing daily their forts and buildings, killing numbers of their people, and performing incredible deeds of bravery." A little discount must, perhaps, be taken off the "incredible bravery," as the Indian mode of warfare was rather stealthy than brave; but Frontenac in his despatches could always heighten the effect with a little judicious rhetoric. Villebon, too, after arriving in his government, wrote direct to the minister, eulogizing the same allies, and observing how dangerous it would have been to Canada, if the Boston people had succeeded in making a solid peace with them. In that case, instead of having to sail round by the gulf, they could at any time march direct from Pentagouet to Quebec in about twelve days. It was therefore of the utmost importance to cultivate the friendship of the savages by means of presents, and to keep them well supplied with arms. The idea of attacking Boston was also very close to Villebon's heart. There would be no difficulty about it, if only there were a few ships to spare, as its situation was a most exposed one; and no town could be more easily burnt, the streets being very narrow, and the houses all of wood.

Canada at this time, there is no doubt, was suffering from severe depression. Frontenac himself says that when the ships arrived in July, "the colony was reduced to the greatest extremities." He estimated that out of thirteen hundred soldiers maintained by the king at the date of the attack on Quebec more than half had been "killed on divers occasions or had died of disease." In all, he said, more than two thousand men, "militia, regulars and veterans," had been lost in Canada since the war, by which he probably means the war against the Iroquois commenced by his predecessor. He asks that one thousand effective men should be sent "to complete the twenty-eight companies his Majesty has hitherto maintained here." The ships that arrived in July had not brought out any additional troops. It must be confessed that it is a little difficult to understand the loss of so many soldiers as Frontenac reports. The losses of men at Quebec in repelling Phipps's attack—represented by the French accounts as being very light, and which even the enemy did not pretend were very heavy—fell chiefly on the militia; while, in the fights with Schuyler, described by the French annalist as "the most obstinate battle that has ever been fought in Canada since the foundation of the colony," the acknowledged losses were only forty killed and about the same number wounded. There is nothing on record to show that many perished in casual skirmishes with the Indians, whose custom was to avoid troops whenever possible.

An expedition that deserves to be recorded was undertaken in the month of February of the following year (1692), when some three hundred men were sent to attack a band of Iroquois, understood to be hunting somewhere between the St. Lawrence and the Ottawa. The leader of the party was M. Dorvilliers, an officer who had distinguished himself in the fight under Valrennes. At the very outset, however, Dorvilliers was accidentally disabled, and the command fell upon a youthful officer of engineers named Beaucour. The march through the forest was a terrible one: the cold was intense, and, accustomed as the men were to the rigours of the Canadian winter, they were rapidly losing heart, while some of the Indians were refusing to follow. Nothing but the indomitable spirit and courage of the leader saved the expedition from failure. He gathered the men round him and harangued them in terms and tones that gave new life to the whole party. Guided by the snowshoe tracks of the enemy, they followed on for four hours longer, when they caught up to and surprised them in their bivouac on an island in the St. Lawrence about a day's march below Cataraqui. Few of the savages escaped; most were killed in the first onset, but some, less fortunate, were captured and taken to Quebec, where three of them were tortured and burned. To avoid the same fate another killed himself in prison.