That war had been going merrily on in its own fashion, and Perrot was able to give an account of the success of the principal expedition--the one directed against Albany--for it had returned to Montreal after doing its bloody work nearly two months before he left for the Upper Lakes.[38] The story of the three war parties must now be woven into our narrative. The one just mentioned started from Montreal on one of the first days in February (1690). The Indians of the party had not been informed what their destination was. When they learned that the intention was to attack Albany, they inquired with surprise how long it was since the French had become so bold. Like the Indians of the West, they had drawn their own conclusions from the events of the previous year. They were not disposed to join in so hazardous an undertaking; and it is allowable, perhaps, to doubt whether it was at any time seriously contemplated to make Albany the point of attack. If it was, the leaders changed their minds, for on coming to a point where the roads to that place and to Corlaer or Schenectady diverged, they took the latter. The difficulties of the march were extreme. Though it was yet midwinter, more or less thaw prevailed, and during much of the journey the men had to walk knee-deep in water. Then on the last day or two came a blast of excessive cold. A few miles from Corlaer the expedition was halted, and the chief man of the Christian Mohawks harangued his people. The opportunity had now come, he said, for taking ample revenge for all the injuries they had received from the heathen Iroquois at the instigation of the English, and to wash them out in blood. This Indian known as the Great Mohawk, or in French as the _Grand Agnie_, is described in the official narrative as "the most considerable of his tribe, an honest man, full of spirit, prudence, and generosity, and capable of the greatest undertakings." The little army was in wretched plight, and probably, had they been attacked at this point by even a small force of men in good condition, they would have been completely routed. No such attack, however, was made. Marching a little further, they found a wigwam occupied only by four squaws. There was a fire in it, and, benumbed with cold, they crowded round it in turns. At eleven o'clock at night they were in sight of the town, but in order that they might take the inhabitants in their deepest sleep, they deferred the attack for three hours; then they burst in through an open gate in the palisade. The official account says, in very simple words, that "the massacre lasted two hours." This, be it remembered, was supposed to be regular warfare, not between savage Indians, or between French and Indians, but between French and English. War, as already stated, had been declared between France and England, and this was Frontenac's method of carrying on his part of it. When New England retaliated later in the year by the