The first campaign against the Mohawks, however, ended in dismal failure, one which taught even the seasoned French veterans a valuable lesson. Warfare in 17th and 18th-century Europe was strictly a seasonal affair. When the autumn rains began to fall and the ground became so swampy that the artillery could no longer be used, the rival armies of Europe would suspend all operations. The troops would be moved into winter camps, and the officers, gentlemen that they were, retired to the comforts of the home fireside. Used to such conditions, none of the newly arrived French troops in Canada were prepared for their first expedition in the American wilderness.
Governor Courcelle waited until the St. Lawrence froze over, and on January 9th started out up the river with 500 troops. The veterans of the relatively comfortable wars of Europe suffered terribly as the icy Canadian winds nearly blasted them off the frozen river surface. Any exposed parts of their bodies became quickly frost-bitten, and when they finally staggered into Trois Riviere, many of them were unable to proceed. Had a good part of this force not been Canadian-born, the entire project might well have been abandoned at this point. But the Canadian volunteers now took the places of the disabled regulars, and the expedition started out again, only to be met by a blinding snowstorm. When they finally reached the Richelieu River, where they entered hostile territory, the governor placed the Canadians in front; for once, European professional soldiers were happy to follow the colonial lead.
After nearly eight weeks of fighting off blinding snowstorms from Lake Champlain to Lake George, they finally reached the Hudson River. There were few Indians around, however, and no hint of any organized resistance. The Algonquian guides had deserted them as soon as they passed the last French outpost, and it suddenly became clear that the army was lost in the wilderness. Somewhere to the south and west there were Iroquois, but no one had any idea how to find them. The French encountered only a party of English officers who informed them that all Dutch possessions in America had meanwhile been ceded to England. They were now trespassing on British territory and were told to turn back at once.
As soon as the harassed force had started back toward the St. Lawrence River, however, the Mohawk warriors suddenly appeared. Actually, they stayed hidden in the forest, but their blood-curdling war cries echoed through the wilderness as they darted in and out, attacking the flanks and the rear, picking off stragglers. By the time this demoralized French force finally reached the safety of Ste. Terese, the first outpost of Canada, nearly 60 men had died of the cold or at the hands of the Mohawks.
As it turned out, however, the expedition had not been a complete failure. The Mohawk had been deeply impressed by what they had seen. There was something uncanny about so many men dressed exactly alike and carrying so many muskets. Even during the difficult retreat this disciplined army had marched in line, and sharp black eyes had watched from the woods and had been both mystified and disturbed. There was a lesson in this which sunk deeply into Mohawk hearts and minds; when the French returned again, this lesson was well remembered.
All during the following spring and early summer months the French troops were trained in forest fighting and life on the trail, and preparations were made for a major drive against the hostile Iroquois tribes. The ever-watchful Indians now made serious efforts to establish peace, but in the midst of such preparations came a serious setback. A party of Frenchmen hunting near Lake Champlain was attacked by the Mohawk, who killed one of the white men and carried the rest off as prisoners. All efforts to bring about a peaceful settlement had suddenly come to an end.
Early in October, 1665, another French expedition started out with 1,300 men and 300 boats. With them came about a hundred Indians who seem to have been as anxious to do battle with the Iroquois as were the white men. They reached the first Mohawk village in a pouring rain and immediately prepared for a bitter fight. The Indians had apparently intended to make a stand, but suddenly a strange thing happened – as the French attacked, their customary drummers accompanying them, the Indians panicked and ran off, something no one had ever known a Mohawk warrior to do. Three more villages were captured with the same ease and without a single shot being fired, and the Algonquian guides now informed the French that there was only one village left, the strongest and largest of them all, called Andarague. But once again, even this strongly fortified town was abandoned by the Mohawk; all that the French found inside the gates were a few frightened old people.
The Iroquois seemed to have lost all their taste for war. The Mohawk managed to survive the next winter despite the fact that the white men had destroyed their villages and food supplies; but in April, 1666, they too agreed to a peace settlement that was to last for the next twenty years.
During that same April, Minister Colbert wrote to Intendant Jean Talon that “the king is satisfied at seeing that most of the soldiers want to establish themselves in that country . . .” The minister had already advised the king to economize on the army and put more money into a French navy which, as always, had been neglected in favor of the land forces. With such plans in the making, it made little sense to allow well-trained infantry companies to return to France, where they would only rust in inactivity.
Many of these veterans thus stayed on in Canada, marrying and raising families, and about three hundred of them were organized into a permanent garrison to guard the country against the Indians, for in spite of the peace treaties and pipe-smoking ceremonies that had been held, trouble with the Indians continued. It was the privilege of any Iroquois brave to go out on the warpath at any time he saw fit; when the urge to collect scalps rose in him, all he had to do was to sink his tomahawk in a post in the village, and all who felt the same urge would follow. Where they went or with whom they fought was a personal matter. Peace or no peace, therefore, these little raiding parties continued around all the outposts of French settlements for as long as there was a New France.