Why The Treaty Of Paris Left Lingering Questions

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Treaty of Paris

Marinus Willett, ca 1791, by Ralph Earl, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Colonel Marinus Willett sloshed through the icy marsh with growing concern. It had been two hours since midnight. They should have seen the fort by now.

Even as the Treaty of Paris was being crafted to end the Revolutionary War, the frigid night of February 9, 1783, gave way to the frozen morning of February 10. On New York’s western frontier, Willett found himself leading one final secret mission for George Washington.

Willett pushed his way to the head of the column. “Where’s the guide?” he asked. The lead soldier shrugged. They had not seen the guide in quite some time and were doing their best to follow his tracks. The soldier pointed forward as the last light of the setting moon shone upon the footprints in the silvery, shadowed snow ahead of them.

With urgent impatience, Willett hurriedly followed the freshly made steps. It took him thirty minutes to catch up to the Oneida scout. The Indian stood like a statue, frozen as the snow around him. He was scared. Worse than that, he was lost.

Washington’s words reverberated in Willett’s head. “You can always waste time, but never recover it… in such an enterprise as yours, want of time will be a certain defeat.”1 The misdirection delayed them. They were late. The element of surprise was gone.

Willett was forced to abort and return to Fort Rensselaer.

*     *     *     *     *

George Washington wanted one last victory before the war officially ended. With the defeat of Cornwallis at Yorktown in October 1781, the British lost any taste for further fighting. In March 1782, Parliament effectively abandoned further offensive operations in America. With the exception of their Indian allies, the year remained relatively quiet.

Yet, there was no formal peace treaty.

Was the war really over?

In Philadelphia, many assumed the clash with King George was coming to an end. Along New York’s murky western frontier, however, such certainty remained elusive.

British regulars may have been quiet in 1782, but that didn’t mean the soldiers weren’t at work. They busied themselves rebuilding Fort Ontario. Abandoned in 1778, early in the Revolutionary War, it was located on the east bank of the mouth of the Oswego River, high above Lake Ontario. Clearly, the British weren’t taking chances. Whatever diplomats might eventually agree upon, military planners on the frontier still prepared for war. At a minimum, they intended to protect their lucrative fur trade.

The possibility of renewed conflict remained. Washington also wished to take no chances. With his army camped in New Windsor, New York, the Continental’s Commander-in-Chief decided upon one final military gamble. His target: Fort Ontario.

The prominent fortress represented Britain’s closest and most formidable stronghold on the frontier. Unlike Fort Niagara, which guarded the Confederacy’s western gateway, Fort Ontario lay deep within the former territory of the Six Nations, just beyond New York’s western-most settlements.

In January 1783, Washington developed a plan to surprise the British and take Fort Ontario. He selected Colonel Marinus Willett to lead the operation. Willett was in command when his troops pursued and killed “the notorious Captain Walter Butler” on October 20, 1781, just ten days after the surrender of Cornwallis.2 So vilified was Butler that it’s been said news of his death brought more cheers in the Mohawk Valley than Washington’s victory at Yorktown.3

Despite the apparent finality of Cornwallis’ defeat, Washington wasn’t going to be lulled into a false sense of security. He presented the Colonel with strict instructions to operate under sealed orders. The fewer who knew the purpose of the mission, the better they could conceal it from the enemy.

Alas, an errant Oneida scout lost his way guiding Willett’s troops to the fort. Forced to forsake the mission, Washington’s hand-picked man returned to Fort Rensselaer and soon learned that American leaders had received Lafayette’s letter reporting a treaty had been agreed to.

Was Lafayette negotiating on America’s behalf? The short answer is “No.” That responsibility fell to Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, John Jay, and Henry Laurens. The longer answer is a bit more complicated. If you thought the competing European claims and the Royal mess surrounding Western New York were complex, ending the Revolutionary War required just as many moving parts.

For peace to become reality, not only did Great Britain and the United States have to agree, but so did France (hence, Lafayette) and Spain.

(Did you notice who was missing from the negotiating table?)

It was the preliminary multinational agreement reached in January 1783 that Lafayette reported to American leaders. The formal Treaty of Paris would be finalized later that year and officially ratified in 1784.

Much to America’s delight, George III agreed to cede all British territory south of the Great Lakes, including lands extending to the Mississippi River. Naturally, this would include Western New York.

On paper.

It’s one thing to draw a map showing boundaries. It’s quite another thing to turn that map into reality. And for the Greater Western New York region, that reality remained as murky as the night of February 9th was to Colonel Willett.

For one thing, the British still occupied their chain of forts within what was now nominally the United States of America. These included both Fort Ontario and Fort Niagara.

This wasn’t an oversight. Article 7 of the Treaty of Paris specifically said “his Britannic Majesty shall with all convenient speed…withdraw… from every Post, Place and Harbour…”4 The wording in the Treaty was clear. Despite this, when asked to comply, General Sir Frederick Haldimand, Governor of the Province of Quebec and Commander-in-Chief of British forces in North America, stated that he was aware of the Treaty but had not yet received orders to evacuate the forts.5

Whether he admitted it or not, Haldimand had several reasons for this delaying tactic. Occupying the forts provided the British with leverage over the Americans.6 It protected British trade interests.7 It helped ameliorate the restless Iroquois who felt betrayed when the British ceded lands they felt were theirs.8 Finally, the British understood the United States was too weak to enforce the Treaty9, so there was little downside in breaching it.

The Treaty changed the maps, but it didn’t change the reality on the ground. The British still held the forts. Their former allies, particularly the Seneca, remained a powerful presence on the frontier. There also remained the question of the precise boundary along the Niagara River.

This reality posed a challenge to the new nation of America. A new nation bound by the fragile Articles of Confederation. The Articles offered little money and little authority. In short, they provided the United States with no practical ability to enforce its frontier claims.

Not that New York State was in any better position. In fact, it was worse.

By the end of the Revolutionary War, most of the other competing colonial claims for this territory had been resolved. Massachusetts, however, continued to rely on the wording of its provincial charter. The Bay State insisted those provisions still conveyed rights in the Greater Western New York region.

The Treaty of Paris may have settled the war between Britain and the United States, but it left too many matters unresolved. For the coastal cities, independence had been indisputably achieved. For the frontier of Western New York, it only created more questions.

And a vast void of authority.

Into that void rushed old claims, forgotten charters, and competing visions of who possessed the right to the frontier. One dispute in particular would shape the future of Western New York forever.

1 Willett, William M., “Washington Letter to Willett, February 2d, 1783,” A Narrative of the Military Actions of Colonel Marinus Willett, G.&C.&H. Carvill, New York, 1831, p.147.
2 Halsey, Francis Whiting, The Old New York Frontier, Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York, 1902, p. 306.
3 David A. Charters, “BUTLER, WALTER,” in Dictionary of Canadian Biography, vol. 4, University of Toronto/Université Laval, 2003–, https://www.biographi.ca/en/bio/butler_walter_4E.html, retrieved June 8, 2026.
4 Article 7, Treaty of Paris (1783), National Archives, https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/treaty-of-paris, retrieved June 3, 2026.
5 Collections of the New York Historical Society for the year 1878, Publication Fund Series Vol XI, New York, 1879, p. 193.
6 Broadhead, John Romeyn, Documents Relative to the Colonial History of the State of New York V10, E.B. O’Callaghan, ed, Weed, Parsons & Co., 1858, p. 1004.
7 Sessional Papers Volume 5, Second Session of the Parliament of the Dominion of Canada, A. Senecal, Ottawa, 1888, p. xx.
8 Stone, William L., Life of Joseph Brant – Thayendenegea Including the Border Wars of the American Rev, H.&E. Phinney, Cooperstown, 1838, p. 271.
9 Ibid., p. 263.

Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign

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Washington’s GambleWashington’s Gamble began when frontier war threatened the survival of the Revolution itself. The growing violence on the western frontiers of Pennsylvania and New York left him little choice. It was one he had hoped to avoid. But it was the response demanded by Congress. The steady stream of reports from the frontier forced them to act.

Zebulon Butler, who led the defense (and retreat) during the Wyoming Massacre, attested to continued incursions. In a letter to General Hand on March 23, 1779, the Pennsylvanian wrote, “…after severe skirmishing for two hours and a half, the enemy carried off sixty head of horned cattle, 20 horses, and shot my riding horse, which they could not catch, and burnt five barns that were partly full of grain and hay, and 10 houses, which the inhabitants had deserted. They shot a number of hogs and sheep, that they left lying.” He asked that the information be relayed to General Washington.1

Even before Butler’s letter to Hand, Congress had received letters from the governors of Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and New York. On February 25, 1779, they appointed their Commander-in-Chief to raise five companies of rangers. The resolution directed Washington to Continue Reading “Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign”

The River Ran Red With Blood

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Cherry Valley Massacre

Incident in Cherry Valley – fate of Jane Wells / from the original picture by Alonzo Chappel (1828-1887); Thomas Phillibrown, engraver. Jane Wells is pleading for her life, and a man attempts to protect her from an Indian who is about to kill her. House behind them is being burned by Loyalists and Indians led by Major Walter Butler and Mohawk Chief Joseph Brant, Cherry Valley, New York. Published: N.Y. : Martin, Johnson & Co. publishers, c1856. via Wikimedia

Heart pumping, Hugh Mitchell rushed into his burning home. Face covered against the smoke, his mind raced. Where could he begin? But his mind emptied of all thought when he saw what lay before him. The bloodied bodies of his wife and four children.

Hugh had been out working the fields when he saw the raiders approaching. Too far away to run to his house, he fled into the nearby woods, hoping the Indians would show mercy to his family should they have failed to escape. He hurried to his home as soon as it was safe to do so, only to find his worst fears confirmed.

With melancholy remorse, he extinguished the fire before returning to the corpses. One still breathed—barely. Extending his arms under her, he gently lifted her, then placed her at the door for fresh air. As he bent down to examine the extent of her injuries, he saw another party heading toward the house. He barely had time to hide undetected behind a log fence.

He did not move. He could not. He watched helplessly as one of Butler’s rangers, later identified as Sergeant Newbury, stepped up to the girl and, with a single blow of his hatchet, killed Mitchell’s last surviving child.1

A year later, Hugh Mitchell would testify to this brutal act at Newbury’s trial. The British soldier was found guilty and hanged for his crime.2

But justice was the exception.

And in 1778, exception was giving way to pattern.

*     *     *     *     *

The fate of Mitchell’s family in the Cherry Valley Massacre reveals how warfare intensified in Continue Reading “The River Ran Red With Blood”

The British–Iroquois Alliance and the Fractured Confederacy

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Iroquois Confederacy fracture

Portrait of Samuel Kirkland by Augustus Rockwell

Internal disputes weren’t limited to the Green Mountains on the Province of New York’s eastern edge. But what unfolded there would pale in comparison to what was about to erupt on the western frontier.

Here, in the wild, untamed forests, far beyond the reach of authority, conflict took on a different character. Courts gave way to violence. Diplomacy gave way to force. Far from the centers of power, restraint disappeared. Local actors dictated events, and alliances, long maintained, began to crack.

The conflict did not simply reach the frontier. It entered the Confederacy itself.

Once inside, it would tear it apart.

Samuel Kirkland became that inside man. Ironically, long-time British Superintendent of Indian Continue Reading “The British–Iroquois Alliance and the Fractured Confederacy”

The Shot Not Heard ’Round the World: Vermont’s First Taste of Independence

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Vermont independenceHigh above the Connecticut River sits a mile-long shelf comfortably nestled within the broad curve of the oxbowing waterway in the fertile eastern valley beneath the rolling foothills of the Green Mountains. It had long attracted inhabitants, but the vagaries of violence had repeatedly forced them out.

The land lies dormant. But enticing. Open. Exposed. Its potential untapped.

Beyond the mountains, out of sight, Albany holds court, too distant to exercise its authority over the outer reaches of its boundary. Closer, on the opposite shore of the river, New Hampshire saw it as an avenue of expansion.

Both colonies claimed it. Neither controlled it.

Yet, into that void, settlers arrived.

The first colonists to settle what would become Westminster, Vermont, came from Continue Reading “The Shot Not Heard ’Round the World: Vermont’s First Taste of Independence”

A Royal Mess Of Competing Colonial Charters

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competing colonial chartersBy the eve of the Revolutionary War, with the French out of the way, Great Britain held dominant power in eastern North America—especially our region.

Or so it would appear.

Greater Western New York had been claimed many times before it was ever governed. European powers declared it theirs, and when Britain removed its rivals, the claims didn’t disappear—they multiplied. Now they came from within, as competing colonial charters layered atop one another. At one point, no fewer than five colonies claimed the region.

Yet, not one ever truly governed it.

Authority did not collapse at the forest’s edge. It contradicted itself at the source.

Long before a single settler felled a tree in Western New York, the kings of England were Continue Reading “A Royal Mess Of Competing Colonial Charters”

William French and the Westminster Massacre

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Westminster MassacreOn a late Winter morning in 1775, William French woke up for the last time. The lively 22-year-old lived in the Town of Bennington—itself scarcely older than he was.

Self-named by Benning Wentworth, Governor of New Hampshire, Bennington became—in 1741—the first township granted west of the Connecticut River. It was a fact that would soon matter far more than anyone expected.

French headed to Westminster, a small hamlet on the west side of the Connecticut River, nestled in the broad curve of the oxbowing waterway, in the fertile eastern valley beneath the Green Mountains.

That afternoon, French walked along King’s Highway to the farmhouse of Capt. Axariah Wright, an eccentric old patriot. There he met Daniel Houghton and nearly 100 other men. They were there to confront a problem they believed could no longer be avoided.Continue Reading “William French and the Westminster Massacre”

America’s Forgotten First Frontier

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America’s forgotten first frontierBefore America looked west, it looked here.

Before the wild wilderness of Alaska, before the trans-Mississippi west, even before the Appalachian forests and the Cumberland Gap, the Greater Western New York region stood as America’s First Frontier. It was a rugged place where individuals could test the fruits of its promise—and sometimes discover its limits.

But it was tamed.
Quickly tamed.
Too quick for history books to notice.

And so, it slipped quietly out of the national memory.

Until a sportscaster unintentionally reframed its true origin story.

When Chris Berman proclaimed, “Nobody circles the wagons like the Buffalo Bills,” he wasn’t merely referring to a professional football team. He was describing a people. Perhaps without realizing it, he was echoing the rich experience of the region’s earliest pioneers—men and women who braved brutal winters to build permanent homes in the post-Revolutionary War virgin arboreal woodlands and lush valleys of the Greater Western New York Region.

Far beyond the settled coastal cities of the Atlantic, this was the first true frontier of the new nation. Unlike what would later become Kentucky and Ohio, it lay within an original state rather than a federal territory. That distinction mattered more than history remembers.

Europeans called Western New York “terra incognita” during the colonial era. It was, however, home to the Seneca and Cayuga, two member nations of the Iroquois Confederacy. The French were the first Europeans to pass through. Their explorers camped here. Their missionaries converted here. Their soldiers fought and built forts here.

But they didn’t settle here.

That omission was not accidental. Western New York was too valuable to ignore—and too dangerous to control without alliances.

It became a critical artery in the economy of New France, later brokered by the Dutch, and ultimately claimed by the British. That final transfer was secured not by force alone, but through alliance with the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy.

The Seneca served as “Keepers of the Western Door.” Ostensibly defensive, that door became a gateway to expansion. During the Beaver Wars, the Confederacy used it to eliminate the Erie tribe and to push its Algonquin adversaries off the map. This left the lands west of the Genesee River wholly vacated a century before the Revolutionary War.

The consequences were profound. French trappers lost their allies. British traders gained control of the valuable fur routes along the fertile waters that flow through western New York and beyond. And America’s First Frontier became one of the earliest battlegrounds for European supremacy in upper North America.

The Western New York region has always been a strategic crossroads.

Long before French missionaries first set foot in the New World, the feud between the Confederacy and its Iroquoian and Algonquin neighbors had been ongoing. The arrival of the Europeans didn’t change the dynamic. It intensified it.

At one time or another, all four Old World powers laid claim to the region. Ambitious Spanish claims, the French fur trade, the Netherlands river-based financial colonies, and the British desire for Empire, all collided here (and elsewhere).

Spain’s claim existed only on paper. They never came close. The Dutch, on the other hand, made the unfortunate decision to choose the Erie as their partners. When the Cat Nation disappeared, New Netherlands shortly followed, mostly without a fight. Mostly.

The French and the British, however, did what the French and the British always did. They went to war. Whether you call it “The French and Indian War” (as North Americans do) or the “Seven Years’ War” (as Europeans do), its outcome determined the fate of American colonies.

Decades later, before Horace Greeley championed Manifest Destiny when his New York Tribune pronounced, “Go West, young man,” New Englanders loaded up their wagons and headed down the ancient Central Trail of the Iroquois Confederacy. They looked past Geneva, at that time, the westernmost settlement in New York State (which itself became a point of controversy).

The Greater Western New York Region promised opportunity and risk in equal measure. It became the proving ground for a new nation’s first attempts to settle undeveloped land.

But it was more than that.

As George Washington quickly learned, America’s first frontier wasn’t just about the pioneers; in true mythic form, this west also posed diplomatic challenges regarding the conquered peoples who had previously claimed the land. The dance between state and federal power in the infant United States proved precarious. Fortunately, Washington’s wisdom and restraint helped protect both the State of New York and the Seneca Nation.

Still, uncertainty lingered.

Though technically part of New York State, the western portion of this original colony lacked clearly defined boundaries. Not until the War of 1812 would the dispute of the “Mile Strip” on the Niagara River be resolved.

Before then, however, the future of the Greater Western New York Region was cloudy at best. It stood on the cusp of history, on the edge of possibility.

Would that history be British, as part of Upper Canada?
Would it remain tethered to America and New York State?
Or would it become an independent state, following Vermont’s example?

Indeed, within a decade of the Paris Treaty that ended the Revolutionary War, no fewer than three attempts were made to separate Greater Western New York from New York State. What was the motivation for this? Why did they fail? How did state and local leaders respond? And what does that response reveal about the fragile architecture of the early republic?

Those unanswered questions are not historical curiosities.

They are the central mystery of our own backyard.

As we celebrate America’s 250th, perhaps now is a good time to rediscover a chapter of our past that unfolded quietly, quickly, and almost invisibly.

After all, history is not what survives in a bland textbook. It is more alive than that. More contingent. More human. And to the attentive ear, the all-seeing eye, and the genuinely curious, it often reveals far more than we were ever taught to notice.

A history too often skipped in classrooms.
A history unfamiliar to many elected officials.
A history even seasoned historians sometimes overlook.

It’s the history of America’s forgotten first frontier.

And it leads, inevitably, to one enduring question that can finally be revealed to you:

Why did Vermont become a state—
but Greater Western New York did not?

To understand why that question was ever asked—and why it was never answered—we must return to the moments when authority was uncertain, allegiance was fluid, and the future of this frontier was still undecided.

Interested? Have you joined the 1786 Project yet? Go to http://1786project.com/ to access cool stuff about the history of the Greater Western New York Region! (And find out how to participate in the hidden treasure hunt!)

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: How Commonality Saved Captain Charles Williamson And Western New York

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Previous: Canandaigua Anxiously Waits Before Jubilation And An Elegant Supper

Captain Charles Williamson was responsible for developing much of the Genesee Country between Preemption Line and the Genesee River. Source: Main, William, Charles Williamson, Cowan & Co., Ltd., Perth, 1899, frontpiece

He was a proud Tory and Captain in the British army who volunteered to fight for King George III against the rebellious colonists. She was a proud Patriot whose father graciously saw in this prisoner of war a common human element.

Before we get into this backstory, let’s review why it’s so important.

In December 1786, the states of New York and Massachusetts agreed to resolve a conflict started by the kings of England. Those monarchs made a royal mess of Western New York, at one time or another granting rights to all or portions of it to no less than five colonies.

By the end of the American Revolution, three states had claims to the Greater Western New York region: New York, Massachusetts, and Connecticut (a sliver along the southern tier). With Connecticut quickly quitting its claim, New York and Massachusetts stood nose-to-nose. With the Articles of Confederation dissolving, the two states decided to circumvent that ineffective parchment and meet in neutral territory. Ironically, this meeting took place in the state of Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: How Commonality Saved Captain Charles Williamson And Western New York”

Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The State Of Greater Western New York In 1825

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Previous: Lafayette Prepares To Enter The Greater Western New York Region

WNY portion of 1825 map published by H.S. Tanner, 177 Chestnut St. Philadelphia.

Remember how excited you were when you began a new school year, started a new job, or moved to a new place? Life fills you with promise and anticipation. You can’t wait to wake up and start the next day. Everything is sunshine and roses.

Then reality inevitably interrupts. Things get overwhelming. Despair and sometimes desperation set in. It seems as if you’re trapped. You can’t see a way out.

But, somehow, you find a way. You get over that hump. (Because, when you get over things, what once seemed like an overbearing mountain now appears as nothing more than a mere bothersome bump.)

Again, you look forward to tomorrow with an enthusiasm you thought you’d never again have.

Such was the state of Greater Western New York. It began as an enthusiastic rush into the Continue Reading “Lafayette’s Farewell Tour: The State Of Greater Western New York In 1825”

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