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.
Pierre Le Moyne d’Iberville (1661–1706), one of the sons of the leading settler and trader Charles Le Moyne, is considered to have been New France’s greatest soldier. As redoubtable on the deck of a warship as he was in the wilderness, he led in many actions on land and sea, from Hudson’s Bay to the West Indies. He is also credited with one of his brothers, Bienville, with establishing the first French settlement in Louisiana. He finally died of yellow fever in Havana in 1706, after raiding the British Leeward Islands. (Print after portrait; private collection, author’s photo)
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.
While this period print actually represents D’Iberville’s capture of Fort Nelson on Hudson’s Bay in 1694, the general aspect of the fort was much the same as the three forts at James Bay taken by Capt de Troyes’ 1686 expedition, in which D’Iberville also served. (Detail from print after Bacqueville de la Potherie; courtesy Library and Archives Canada, C1113194)
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.
Schematic drawing of Denonville’s engagement with Seneca warriors during his expedition of August 1687. At top left, the Iroquois village; center left, “500 Iroquois” concealed along a ridge. The first French unit approaching them are “coureurs-des-bois” of the Canadian militia, shown in ranked formation. Denonville is shown behind them on the trail, ahead of two regular units of the Compagnies franches de la Marine; then two more units of militiamen, some hooking forward to scout and skirmish on the right flank; and finally, a crescent of allied “savages.” (Print after La Hontan’s 1705 Amsterdam edition of his travels; author’s photo)
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.
A Canadian volunteer scouting in winter. Raiders always put out scouts ahead, on the flanks, and following the main party of a large expedition. If they spotted something, they would stealthily rejoin the main group to warn them, so that they could take cover, remaining silent and motionless to preserve the vital element of surprise. (Print after Edmond J. Massicotte; private collection, author’s photo)
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.
B
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 f
lap 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.
Raiders from New France Page 2