A New Tactical Doctrine

In early 1686, Governor Denonville agreed with New France’s merchants that the British forts on the Bay should be taken or destroyed, but how to actually achieve this was another matter. Most of the Company forts were built on the shores of James Bay, the southeastern extension of Hudson’s Bay. Up to that time, French exploration and trade in the Bay had been carried out by ship. However, a number of Canadian coureurs-des-bois traders had ventured north into the vast area between Montreal and the Bay using canoes. Traders from New France did not sit in forts waiting for Indigenous customers to arrive; for decades, many had been venturing far into the wilderness to seek them out. By the 1670s, an unknown but certainly sizeable number of Canadians had enough experience to travel and prosper in the wilderness, providing the logistic knowhow for exploration beyond the Great Lakes.

By this point, the three sons of the aggressive merchant Charles Le Moyne had reached manhood. Two of them (Pierre and Paul) had been educated in France as junior naval officers, and they all had definite ideas about how to fight in North America. To them – as to their father, and other leading settler families such as the Hertels – the key lay in a combination of First Nations and European military practices.

By the end of 1685 the 19 young officers of the Compagnies franches already sent to Canada had realized that almost everything they had been taught regarding warfare in Europe was irrelevant in New France. In eastern and central North America, the distances between settlements were immense; nature was overwhelming, with endless forests and mighty rivers, and there were virtually no practical routes for military movements other than waterways. A large force could not march through such a wilderness: there were no roads, and nowhere to obtain food or take shelter on the way. It was all but impossible to move even light field artillery without slow and exhausting efforts, and cavalry was useless.

Obviously, the officers from France must have discussed this new environment with young Canadian gentlemen of the settler population. The Frenchmen initially deplored the “savage” Indigenous tactics of rushing out from hiding to kill or kidnap unsuspecting opponents or civilians. Their gentlemanly instincts rebelled against taking cover to shoot unseen at the enemy, and then running away, hiding anew, and doing it again. Their culture required them to stand and fight bravely face-to-face, with bayonets fixed and colors flying, to the sound of fifes, drums and artillery. European soldiers were drilled in body and mind to be stoic and steady in the line of battle, and to obey “articles of war” that could send a man to the gallows for breaches of discipline. But the primary type of offensive action among the First Nations was the ambush – and indeed, warriors might not agree even to this if they felt the odds were against them. They were basically independent individuals, who had to be convinced by, and confident in, their war chiefs before any action was undertaken. Yet there could be no doubt that the Indigenous warriors were very brave, in their way, and were outstandingly fit and knowledgeable woodsmen who moved fast over great distances. Most of all, their way of fighting had the effect of keeping European foes apprehensive – even terrified, at times – and nearly always on the defensive.

Once considerations of European “gallantry” and Christian humanity were laid aside, a cold-blooded analysis of the results of such ways of fighting could only lead French officers to the conclusion that, in the environment of New France, “parade-ground” maneuvers by lines of soldiers firing volleys (initially, covered by pikemen), were not only ineffective but potentially disastrous. The regulars had already shown themselves quite inadequate when pursuing Indigenous enemies; their only strength lay in garrisoning forts with superior firepower, while hopefully avoiding being ambushed when outside them.

One officer who arrived in August 1685 was the young Capt Pierre, Chevalier de Troyes (16??–88), who soon impressed Denonville as “the most intelligent and the most capable of our commanders … wise, sensible, and full of good will.” Pierre de Troyes obviously learned a great deal from the Le Moyne brothers in particular. Together the young French Navy and Canadian Militia officers came up with a revolutionary proposal for solving the problem of the British presence on Hudson’s Bay: a military expedition overland from Montreal to James Bay – a distance of at least 745 miles (1,200km), over which no route had yet been established. The route suggested was up the Ottawa River, but instead of taking the Madawaska River west to Lake Huron like most fur traders, it would continue north on the Ottawa River, cross Lake Témiscamingue, continue via portages and small rivers to Lake Abitibi, and thence to James Bay down the Abitibi River.

The French had available to them exemplars of how Europeans could achieve such a journey: the wilderness-loving coureurs-des-bois and voyageurs who maintained the vital fur trade. These Canadians had friendly relations with the First Nations that were their trading partners, and were familiar with their lifestyles; indeed, some Canadians had adopted elements of the Indigenous way of life in order to enjoy more personal freedom than was afforded in the settlements (for instance, nearly every Canadian practiced hunting and fishing, forbidden to most people in Old France). Alongside these locals, after two years in New France some of the French-born officers and soldiers were also gradually becoming more experienced and effective in the wilderness.

The first organized raid, 1686

Its proposers convinced Governor Denonville that such an expedition was possible. On February 12, 1686, he appointed Capt de Troyes to command the raid, with the Canadians Jacques Le Moyne de Sainte-Hélène as first lieutenant, Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville as second lieutenant, Paul Le Moyne de Maricourt as major, Zacharie Robutel, Sieur de La Noue as aide-major, the Jesuit Father Silvy as chaplain, and Pierre Allemand as commissioner of supplies, doubling as naval pilot in case English ships were taken in the Bay. The rankers were picked men: 30 volunteer soldiers from the Compangnies franches, including a sergeant and a surgeon, and 65 trained Canadian militiamen who were experienced travelers. For such a trek into the barren north in winter, all members of the party had to be both strong-minded and in excellent physical condition.

Equipment of February 1686 raid to Hudson’s Bay (see AC, C11A, 8)

The list includes 37 canoes, with toboggans to drag them “over the ice,” and more toboggans for other supplies. Some 74 small and large brass cooking pots, 230 axes of various types, 60 sulfured torches, 50 pairs of snowshoes, 100 shovels, and quantities of black powder, lead and flints were also taken. The weapons included 150 flintlock muskets with their cloth bags, 100 plug bayonets, 50 pistols, 60 swords or sabers, 50 grenades, and two rifled muskets (presumably for the best marksmen), and each militiaman was also issued two knives. The rations included salt pork, ham, sea biscuits, rice, dried corn and pease, salt, pepper, cloves, brandy and tobacco. European uniforms were out of the question for a wilderness expedition in winter, and the soldiers received a special issue of Canadian-style clothing (see Plate A) – seemingly for the first time.

This operation needed faultless planning, and in a sense the preparations were comparable to those for a ship’s crew going to sea. The essential aspect was that the authorities had to provide adequate logistics; long military expeditions needed to be able to transport a lot of supplies and equipment if they were to reach their objective and return successfully. Everything that would be needed – from food and drink for three months, to tools for repairing canoes and snowshoes – had to be taken along by the raiding party (see panel). Never before had such a raiding expedition had been so thoroughly organized, and it provided a basic model for others by French and Canadian personnel for decades to come – though details would naturally vary, and uniformity in clothing does not seem to have been as important thereafter.

In Canada, even in the south before the end of the 20th century, ice would still cover rivers and lakes until spring thaws usually occurred gradually from late March. In the event, when the expedition marched out of Montreal on March 30, 1686, it found the ice unstable due to an early thaw, and this slowed progress. In the weeks that followed the raiders would experience icy rain, or days of very cold weather; ice coming down the Ottawa River damaged some of the canoes, so men often had to walk along the river’s edge, sometimes up to their chests in icy water. For portages to bypass the river’s rapids everything had to be unloaded and carried overland; the largest rapids, in the area of present-day Ottawa/Gatineau, were reached in late April. D’Iberville was nearly drowned, like one of his companions, when their canoe overturned in a cataract. As it grew warmer the rivers were more navigable, but there were still countless tiring portages, and another danger, a forest fire, was only narrowly avoided.

By May, Capt de Troyes had found that rigid discipline did not work for independent-minded Canadians as it did for his French soldiers, but fortunately he took Father Silvy’s advice to soften his manner. On May 18, the expedition reached the farthest French trading post above Montreal, at Lake Témiscamingue. From there, they paddled across the lake and eventually reached Lake Abitibi. Finally, on June 20, after some 85 days’ travel, the British fort at Moose Factory on the shore of James Bay came in sight. The party stayed quietly under cover while Capt de Troyes discreetly surveyed the objective.

The taking of Forts Hayes, Rupert, and Albany

Fort Hayes was made of squared timber with walls 18ft high (5.84m), with a robust timber gate reinforced with iron straps. It had four bastions, each with four 2-pounder light cannon. Inside was a large three-story redoubt doubling as quarters, which mounted three more 2-pdrs and a brass 8-pounder. This and other structures accommodated 18 men.

Capt de Troyes resolved to attack as soon as possible, while their presence was still undetected. There were no sentries posted, and Sainte-Hélène even sneaked up to some cannon muzzles and inserting his ramrod to see if they were loaded. Dogs inside the fort were barking occasionally – they had smelled or heard something – but their masters took no notice; it was unimaginable to them that a large French raiding party was just outside.

In the early morning of June 21, the raiders divided into three detachments and approached the fort. Still undetected, two detachments climbed up the wall and, on a signal from Capt de Troyes, Sainte-Hélène and his brothers jumped into the fort sword in hand. Meanwhile, the other detachment started battering the gate with a log made into a rudimentary ram, while others opened fire. The startled garrison woke up and, still in their nightshirts, opened fire from windows; Troyes’ interpreter soon told him that some of the English traders were calling for quarter. But the interpreter was spurned by an English gunner, who was trying to point a cannon – until killed by a shot in the head, possibly by the noted marksman Sainte-Hélène. Most of the garrison fled into the redoubt, followed by D’Iberville who, initially alone, slashed with his sword and fired his pistol; when other raiders joined him, the garrison surrendered. The fighting had lasted about half an hour. It was the benchmark for the classic surprise raid in North America, to be repeated in countless actions for many decades to come.

Leaving part of his force at Fort Hayes with the prisoners, Troyes led the Le Moyne brothers and 60 men about 124 miles (200km) to Fort Rupert, where they found a Hudson’s Bay Company ship at anchor. On July 3, in a simultaneous dawn double attack, both fort and ship were captured. Approaching silently in canoes, D’Iberville with 13 men boarded the ship and took it after he shot a sentry and cut down a sailor. Meanwhile his brother Sainte-Hélène burst into the fort, which soon surrendered. There were about 30 prisoners (including a woman wounded when a stove burst after one of the raiders threw a grenade down the redoubt’s chimney). After destroying Rupert House, the expedition regrouped at Moose Factory before setting out to capture Fort Albany about 100 miles (160km) to the northwest.

This time they also had the captured ship with artillery on board. Once in view of the target the raiders landed, and since there was no element of surprise Capt de Troyes changed his tactics. He had a covered battery built on land, and Pierre Allemand even managed to produce homemade shells. On July 26, after a rather vague response to a surrender demand, the raiders fired some 140 shots within an hour, to which the fort’s guns answered only weakly. The bombardment drove the garrison into the cellar of the redoubt, before the commander capitulated with about 30 men and two women. The raid’s total booty came to about 200,000 livres-worth of furs. ²

In some triumph, the young French and Canadian officers returned to Canada, having put their theories to the test with outstanding success. It might be argued that the English forts had no regular garrisons, but Capt de Troyes himself had only 30 regular soldiers. Everyone knew that the expedition could never had succeeded without the Canadian militiamen, whose wilderness experience was crucial. However, New France was soon reminded that another important factor was still missing before this type of warfare could become truly formidable: harnessing the First Nations to the program.

CANADIAN MILITIA, EARLY–MID 18th CENTURY

Clothing and equipment was usually the volunteer’s own; even if some garments were issued, they were not necessarily “uniform” (see detailed descriptions in body text, “Material culture: Canadian dress”). This plate simply reconstructs some typical examples of “wilderness” dress; there were few notable changes between the late 17th and mid-18th centuries, apart from occasionally to gentlemen’s hairstyles, and the belated acquisition of successive issues of some French Navy and Army equipment.

(1) Militia officer, spring–autumn

Apart from the tapabord (see Plate A), the usual wool caps were stocking- or “nightcap”-shaped, in this case a type with fur trim. Red caps may have been associated more with Quebec, white with Trois-Rivières and blue with Montreal, but this was far from consistent. The roughly knee-length capot shown here is the most typical style for moderate weather, and in the early 18th century about half of them were probably blue. The double-breasted front was either fastened across to the upper right button, or left unbuttoned and gathered only by the waist sash. Pockets had no flaps; the cuffs might be this “boot” type, buttoned at the top, or might have a simple buttoned vent or flap as (B2). Like a European coat, the capot was tailored to the waist; it had a deep central rear vent, might have rear pleats from hip buttons as (B2), and always had a pointed hood. Militia officers’ status was indicated by a crescent-shaped gilded gorget suspended at the throat, which might bear engraved royal arms and trophies, or later an applied silver badge. The quality of the clothing worn under the coat depended upon an individual’s means; this officer has a pair of fine plush knee breeches, but over his white stockings he chooses to wear knee-length Indigenous boot-moccasins. In the wilderness he does not carry his sword; his weapons are a Tulle musket with the 1716 modification that added “grenadier” sling attachments, and a Navy 1716 flintlock pistol. He has a slung horn-and-brass powder flask of the type used from c.1700 until the 1750s, and carries his other necessities in an Indigenous “bandolier bag” decorated with quillwork.

(2) Militiaman, winter

This is another common cap, turned up at the bottom to show a band of the lining color. The hair might be worn either in a wrapped queue, “clubbed,” or loose. His capot might be of longer winter length than this, reaching to low on the calf. In the early 18th century only some 6 percent seem to have been made in brown cloth, though this rose to about 25 percent from the 1740s. Below wool cloth breeches, which might be lined with soft leather for winter, he would wear knit stockings, and his blanket-cloth mitasses are decorated at the edges with tape in a contrasting color – red and blue seem to have been common. Hardly visible on his feet are ankle-length gray cloth winter nippes worn inside high-flapped deerskin moccasins. Sashes were of a range of solid colors and served the purpose of a waist belt. The felling axe is military issue.

(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.

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.

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 shoulder 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.

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.