The Siege of Fort Niagara, 1759. Iroquois Decide the Fate of France and Britain, Setting in Motion Events Leading to Iroquois Annihilation.

The British victory at Fort Niagara shattered French dominance and secured their grip on the Great Lakes, a turning point in the French and Indian War. But for the Iroquois, their cooperation in that war was not a triumph, it was the beginning of the end. Once the most formidable native power in the Northeast, they had gambled on British strength, believing it would protect their place in the new order. Instead, they were cast aside, their lands devoured by the very empire they had helped to build. In choosing a side, they had sealed their own destruction.

Fort Niagara. July 10 - 25, 1759.
British and Indian Forces: 2,000 British Troops, 1,000 Iroquois Braves.
French Forces: 486 Soldiers, Marines, and Militia, 30 Seneca Indian Scouts.

Additional Reading and Episode Research:

• Peckham, Howard. The Colonial Wars, 1689-1762.
• Steele, Ian. Warpaths.
• Anderson, Fred. The Crucible of War.

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Transcript

 Thanks for tuning into this episode of History's Greatest Battles, Season 2. Where we explore history's greatest sieges. If you know anybody that enjoys this genre of history, please share the podcast with them. 

In the summer of 1759, as the French and Indian War raged across North America, Britain’s imperial ambitions clashed head-on with France’s last, desperate attempts to hold its territory. The war had begun as a frontier struggle between English colonists and French forces backed by their native allies, but by this point, it had become a global conflict, fought across continents and oceans. In North America, the British had taken the offensive, driving deep into French-held territory, determined to crush New France once and for all. Their strategy was simple: sever the arteries of French power, take control of the interior, and eliminate any path for reinforcements from the west.

One battle would determine whether that strategy succeeded. The objective was a fortress, one of the most important strongholds in the French colonial system. Whoever held it controlled the western approach to Canada and the vital waterways linking the Great Lakes to the Atlantic. If Britain took it, France would lose its ability to move troops and supplies through the interior. If France held, its forces could still push back and threaten British control of the Ohio Valley.

But there was more at stake than just British and French power. For the Iroquois Confederacy, this battle was a calculated move, one that would have consequences far beyond what its leaders intended. For centuries, the Iroquois had balanced European rivalries to their advantage, shifting alliances to maintain their strength. This time, they bet on Britain. And this time, they were wrong. Their decision to take the field alongside the British would alter their fate permanently, turning them from a dominant force in northeastern North America into a fractured people, displaced and powerless in the wake of the American Revolution.

The battle that followed was brutal, decisive, and world-altering. Its outcome would determine who controlled the continent and set in motion a chain of events that would ultimately lead to the fall of New France, the expansion of British rule, and, within two decades, the American Revolution. The map of North America would never be the same.

Welcome to History's Greatest Battles, season two, episode nine: The Siege of Fort Niagara, the 10th of July to the 25th of July, 1759.

British and Indian Forces: 2,000 British troops, 1,000 Iroquois Braves.
French Forces: 486 soldiers, marines, and militia; and 30 Seneca Indian Scouts.

The British victory at Fort Niagara shattered French dominance and secured their grip on the Great Lakes, a turning point in the French and Indian War. But for the Iroquois, their cooperation in that war was not a triumph, it was the beginning of the end. Once the most formidable native power in the Northeast, they had gambled on British strength, believing it would protect their place in the new order. Instead, they were cast aside, their lands devoured by the very empire they had helped to build. In choosing a side, they had sealed their own destruction.

When England and France carved their footholds into the untamed lands of North America in the seventeenth century, there was never a question of peace. Their rivalry had already soaked European soil in blood for centuries. Now, the battleground shifted. The contest for empire had come to the vast, rugged frontier of the New World.

For nearly a century, the French in Canada and the English along the Atlantic coast expanded their territories without much direct confrontation. That changed in the early 1750s. English settlers, hungry for land, pressed westward. At the same time, French forces moved south from the Great Lakes, determined to cement their control over the interior. Their paths collided, and neither side was willing to back down.

Where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers met, Virginian colonists staked their claim, throwing up a fort as a warning to the French. They never finished it. A combined force of French troops and their Indian allies stormed in, seized the half-built structure, and raised their own flag over what they now called Fort Duquesne. The English would not let this stand. In 1754, a young, untested officer named George Washington led a militia force to take it back. The result? A swift and humbling defeat. His first taste of battle would not be a victorious one.

For over 150 years, the British government had left the colonies to fend for themselves, more concerned with European affairs than the wild frontier. That era of neglect ended when the French made their move. London sent real soldiers, red-coated professionals, to crush the enemy’s advance. At their head: Major General Edward Braddock, a hardened officer of the British Army. He marched straight into the wilderness, confident of victory. Instead, in the summer of 1755, he was cut down in a devastating ambush along the Monongahela River. His death sent shockwaves through the Empire. What had begun as a colonial skirmish was now a full-scale war, one that would rage across continents. The British called it the French and Indian War. In Europe, it became known as the Seven Years’ War.

The English and the native tribes had been locked in a cycle of conflict for generations, neither side trusting the other. The French, however, played a different game. They built alliances, trading with the Algonquin in the Ontario region and the Huron farther west. They fought alongside them, shared victories and losses, and won their loyalty. When war came, these native warriors stood at France’s side, ready to defend their land against the English tide.

But not all tribes saw France as a friend. The Iroquois Confederacy, six nations bound by a warrior’s code, had spent centuries crushing their enemies and expanding their dominion. They saw the Algonquin and Huron as rivals and, when possible, remained above the European bloodshed, playing one side against the other to maintain their own strength.

The Iroquois Confederacy, Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, Seneca, and Tuscarora, was not just a collection of tribes. It was a disciplined war machine. For nearly two centuries, they had forged an empire in what is now New York, setting aside old rivalries to build a power structure that no European dared underestimate.

When the war erupted, the French looked like the stronger force, and the Iroquois, ever pragmatic, leaned in their direction. But they were watching closely, waiting to see which side would truly emerge as the master of the frontier.

In the rugged frontier of upper New York, an Irishman named William Johnson made his mark. He had arrived to manage his uncle’s lands, but what he built was something far greater.

Johnson didn’t just live among the Mohawk, he earned their respect. He took Chief Joseph Brant’s sister as his wife and understood the ways of the Iroquois better than any Englishman alive. When the war began to shift in Britain’s favor in 1758, Johnson saw his moment. He worked relentlessly to pull the Mohawks and the rest of the Iroquois Confederacy into the fight.

The Iroquois were masters of survival, and they saw the danger coming. If the French-backed Hurons gained ground in the west, the balance of power would shift against them. That was a risk they could not afford. In the spring of 1759, they made their move, reaching out to the British commanders. The English, eager to crush the French, welcomed them with open arms.

The summer of 1759 loomed as a decisive moment. The French had already lost Fort Duquesne the previous year, and they were desperate to take it back. If they succeeded, they would force the British to defend their frontier instead of striking at the heart of New France. The war’s outcome hung in the balance.

British commander Geoffrey Amherst had no intention of letting the French seize the initiative. He gave the order: Fort Niagara had to fall. This was no ordinary outpost, it was the keystone of French power in the region, a fortress built in the hardened European style, its walls defiant against time and war. Amherst placed his trust in Brigadier General John Prideaux, a man who understood siege warfare and was ready to break French resistance.

Prideaux assembled a strike force, 3,000 British and colonial troops, marching them to Fort Oswego, a critical staging ground on the southeastern shore of Lake Ontario. There, he joined forces with William Johnson, who brought 1,000 Iroquois warriors to the fight. Knowing he couldn’t afford to leave Oswego vulnerable, Prideaux stationed 1,000 men there before leading the remaining 2,000, alongside his Iroquois allies, straight for Fort Niagara. Their path: the water. In war canoes and longboats, they cut across the southern shore of the lake, heading toward the fortress that would decide the fate of the region.

Inside Fort Niagara stood Captain Pierre Pouchot, a man who understood war and the art of fortifications. He had spent his career strengthening the fortress, turning it into a bastion meant to hold firm against any assault. That spring, his garrison had been strong, 3,000 men, but war demands sacrifices. Believing the British threat had passed, he had sent over 2,500 troops south to aid in the French campaign against Fort Pitt. Now, with only a skeleton force remaining, the enemy was at his doorstep.

Pouchot still had a handful of Seneca warriors within his walls, trusted scouts who had served him well. But what he didn’t know, what no French officer could have imagined, was that the Iroquois Confederacy had turned. That brutal truth struck on July 7, when British and Iroquois forces landed, storming a working party outside the fort. The siege had begun.

Realizing the scale of the disaster, Pouchot wasted no time. Messengers rode south with orders to recall his scattered troops. Meanwhile, outside his walls, British engineers and colonial sappers dug in. By July 10, the first siege lines crept forward. The noose was tightening.

Fort Niagara stood at a critical crossroads, perched on a peninsula where the Niagara River met Lake Ontario. Supplies could come by water, but Pouchot wasn’t relying on reinforcements from the lake. His real hope lay with the troops he had sent south, the men he had stripped from his own garrison. If they returned in time, the fortress might still hold.

As the enemy dug in, Pouchot sought an advantage. He called for a truce, allowing the leader of his Seneca warriors to meet with the Iroquois fighting alongside the English. If there was any chance to keep them on his side, this was it.

Inside the fort, the Seneca warriors still believed they stood with their longtime allies. They made their case: the French had always fought beside them. Why turn now?

But outside the walls, Iroquois envoys laid out a brutal truth. The tide had turned. The French were losing. Staying loyal to them now meant ruin.

Three days of tense negotiations followed. On July 14, the Seneca leader offered a solution: their warriors would leave. Let the English and French slaughter each other, the native nations would not shed blood in this battle.

William Johnson, ever the strategist, held his Iroquois allies firm. Pouchot, seeing no choice, allowed his Seneca warriors to leave rather than risk a betrayal inside his own walls.

The Iroquois had made their decision. They would stand with the English, but they would not fight this battle. This would be a clash of empires, European against European, with no native warriors taking the field. The French inside the fort were on their own.

As words were exchanged outside the walls, Pouchot worked relentlessly inside them. Every hour mattered. He reinforced what he could, knowing full well that the English siege lines were creeping closer with every passing night.

On July 14, the first cannon roared. From 250 yards out, British artillery opened fire, slamming shot after shot into the fortress walls. Three days later, a new threat emerged. English gunners had hauled howitzers across the Niagara River, positioning them where the French had least expected. Now, they were being hammered from both sides.

The barrage was merciless. French cannons were smashed, gun crews cut down before they could return fire. The men inside knew what awaited those who ventured into the open, instant death. Few dared to risk it.

Then, disaster struck the English. On July 18, Brigadier General John Prideaux stood too close to one of his own mortars. When it fired, a miscalculation or sheer bad luck sent shrapnel into his body. He was dead before he hit the ground. Command fell to William Johnson, the man who had brought the Iroquois into the war. Now, he would finish what Prideaux had begun.

By July 20, the British guns were just 80 yards from the walls. There was nowhere to hide. The once-mighty fortress was crumbling, its garrison exhausted, its defenses collapsing under relentless fire.

Just as the final blow seemed imminent, hope appeared on the horizon. From the south, 1,600 French reinforcements paddled toward the battlefield. Every man inside Fort Niagara turned his eyes to the river. If these troops reached the fort, the siege could be broken.

Johnson saw the threat instantly. He sent Iroquois scouts to intercept the native warriors among the French, hoping to convince them that this was already a lost cause. If those Indians refused to fight, the French force would be smaller, weaker, easier to crush.

But persuasion wasn’t enough. Johnson acted fast, ordering 350 soldiers and 100 New York militiamen to take up defensive positions along the road leading to the fort. If the French were coming, they would have to fight their way through.

Meanwhile, 500 Iroquois warriors melted into the dense forest flanking the road, unseen, waiting. The trap was set.

At dawn on July 24, the French reinforcements advanced, but something was wrong. Their native allies had vanished, convinced by Johnson’s Iroquois that the fight wasn’t worth the blood. What had been a 1,600-man force was now a mere 600 soldiers, marines, and Canadian militia. They were walking into a slaughter.

The French charged, desperate to break through. They never had a chance. The English fired in disciplined volleys, seven in total, tearing their ranks apart. As they reeled from the gunfire, the Iroquois struck from the trees, cutting down the fleeing survivors. The counterattack was dead before it had even begun.

From his fortress walls, Pouchot watched it unfold through his telescope. He saw the smoke, the chaos, the bodies. But what he could not see, what he did not yet know, was whether his reinforcements had succeeded. Then, the English cannons fell silent. The enemy raised a flag, offering terms: surrender, and his men would be spared. Refuse, and the fortress would be buried under fire and steel.

He had no choice. On July 25, Captain Pierre Pouchot surrendered Fort Niagara to the British. The French grip on the region was broken.

The fall of Fort Niagara was a crippling blow to France. The British now controlled Lake Ontario, cutting off all reinforcements from the west. Montreal and Quebec were left exposed, abandoned. Any French forces still fighting in the wilderness would receive no further aid. The noose was tightening around New France.

The battle had done more than secure the Great Lakes. It had saved the Ohio Valley. With the French reinforcements destroyed, their assault on Fort Pitt collapsed. The British could now turn their full attention to the final prize: Quebec and Montreal.

In September 1759, Quebec fell. The French and Indian War was over in all but name. The Seven Years’ War would drag on in Europe and India, but in North America, the outcome was decided. The British had won.

But for the Iroquois, it was the beginning of the end.

The Iroquois had chosen their side, but victory did not bring them the reward they expected. They had fought for power, for security, for a place in the new order. Instead, they had unknowingly signed away their future.

To the Iroquois, this was just another calculated move, a temporary alliance in a long game of survival. As historian Fred Anderson puts it, their support for the British was "only one of many pragmatic policy shifts in the long history of relations between the Confederacy and the British Crown."

But this time, there was no turning back. This wasn’t just another strategic shift, it was a permanent break from the old ways. And the consequences would be devastating.

By siding with the British, the Iroquois had made a fatal mistake. They had tied their fate to an empire that would not serve them, only use them. Their strength, their independence, everything they had built, was now at the mercy of the British Crown. As Anderson writes, their choice "meant the acceptance of dependency" (The Crucible of War, p. 333).

The British had won. Their empire stretched farther than ever before, their armies stood unchallenged. But their concern was never the Iroquois. Now that the French were gone, the British no longer needed them. The frontier belonged to the colonists, not the warriors who had fought beside them.

Then, in 1775, a new war erupted. But this time, it was the British against their own colonies. The Iroquois watched as the empire they had fought for turned on itself. They were not major players in this conflict, but in the shadow of the revolution, they still fought, this time in the lawless lands beyond the Appalachians, where no treaties, no alliances, and no rules existed.

Some Iroquois warriors sided with the British, believing that loyalty would be remembered. It wasn’t. When the war ended, the British abandoned them. The victorious American colonies expanded westward without hesitation, tearing through native lands like a force of nature. There would be no gratitude, no mercy. The Iroquois had chosen a master who no longer cared for them, and the price for that mistake was annihilation.

At Fort Niagara, the Iroquois made that choice. They sided with the British, believing they were securing their future. Instead, they had sealed their doom. When the Revolution came, they fought alongside the redcoats, hoping that their sacrifice would earn them a place in the empire they had bled for. But when the last shot was fired, when the treaties were signed, Britain was gone, and the Iroquois stood alone.

The United States emerged from the war hungry, relentless, unstoppable. Westward it marched, sweeping aside everything in its path. There was no room for allies of the Crown. The Iroquois, once masters of the frontier, were now exiles in their own land. Their power shattered. Their confederacy broken. Their empire erased.

Fort Niagara was more than a battle, it was a pivot point in history. The fall of that fortress cracked open the continent, tipping the balance toward British rule. That victory set the stage for an empire so vast it would eventually be torn apart by revolution. And when that revolution came, the Iroquois, who had once decided the fate of nations, found themselves at the mercy of one they never saw coming.

This is how nations rise. And this is how they fall.