IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 4? S^' V ^ W ^ .T "^ ^^4k & %' ■^ *^ 1.0 !S I.I 1.25 = !!l ^ M 1^ IJJ= ?^'- IIIIIM tiiUt- 11= 1-4 IIIIII.6 Va (? /i IAX IfAimATlVEg. of which was appalling, and their effect against a numerous body of Indians, closely drawn togetlier, in the highest degree destructive, Colurabus had brought over with him a small body of cavalry. The Indians, who had never before seen such a creature, imagined the Spanish horses to be rational beings and that each, with its rider, formed but one animal : they were astonished at their speed, and considered their impetu- v^sity and strength as irresistible. In this onset they had, be- side, another formidable enemy to terrify and destroy them; a great number of the largest and fiercest species of dogs which were then bred in Europe had been brought hither, whicL, set on by their weapons, without attempting resistance,' they fled with all the speed which terror could excite. Num- bers were slain, and more made prisoners, who were imme- diately consigned to slavery. The character of Colurabus stands very high in the esti- mation of mankind ; he is venerated not only as a man pos- sessing superior fortitude, ind such a steady perseverance as no impediment, danger.-, or sufferings could shake, but as equally distinguished for piety and virtue. His second son, Ferdinand, who wrote the Life of his father, apologizes for this' severity towards the natives on account of the distressed state into wnich tha colony was brouglit: the change of climate, and the indispensable labors which were required of men un- accustomed to any exertions, had swept away grea^, numbers of the new settlers, and the survi/ors were declining daily; whilst such was the irreconcilable enmity Qf the nanves, that the most kind and circumspect conduct on the part of the Spaniards would not have been effectual to regain their good will. This apology seems to have been generally admitted ; for all modern writers have bestowed upon the discoverer of the new world the warmest commendations unmixed with censure. It is an unpleasant task to derogate from exalted merit, and to impute a deliberate plan of cruelty and extir- ^ _ ,, ..-.^.. avrvxvw ivi inuiui wunsi 'j out aiiiK>ugii a pert DISCOVERY CF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. u affectation of novel opinions could only originate in weak minds, anH can be countenanced only by such, yet a free and unreserved scrutiny of facts can alone separate truth from error, and apportion the just and intrinsic degree of merit belonging to any character. That Columbus had formed th» design of waging offensive v/ar against the Indians, and re- ducing them to slavery, before he entered upon his second voyage, and, consequently, before ho was apprised of the de- struction of the people which he had left upon the Island of Hispaniola, may be inferred from hia proceeding himself with such a number of fierce and powerful dogs. Having found the natives peaceable and well disposed, he had no reason to apprehend that they would commence un- provoked hostilities : the cavalry which he took over, whilst it tendud to impress those people with the deepest awe and veneration, was fully sufficient for the security of the new colony, if the friendship of the natives had been sincerely meant to be cultivated by a kind and equitable deportment; but to treat them as a free people was inconsistent with the views which led to planting a colony ; for as the grand incen- tive to undertake the distant voyages was the hope of acquir- ing gold, so, as Columbus had seen some worn as ornamentg by the natives, and had been informed that the mountainous parts of the cou-*-y yielded that precious metal, he had ex- cited expecta'- in his employers, and in the nation at large, which both hi aiterest and ambition compelled him as far as possible to realize. The Spaniards could not obtain gold with- out the assistance of the natives, and those were so constitu- tionalI> indolent that no allurements of presents or gratifica- tions could excite them to labor. To rescue himself therefore from disgrace, and to secure further support, he seems delib- erately to have cle>oted a harmless race of men to slaughter and slavery. Such as survived the massacre of that dreadful day and preserved their freedom fled into the mountains and inaccessible parts of the island, which not yielding them 12 INDIAN NAKRATIVEg. ■ I sufficient means of resistance, they were compelled to obtain a portion of food from their cruel pursuers by obtaining gold dust in order to support life ; a tribute being imposed upon them which was rigorously exacted. These wretched re- mains of a free people, thus driven from fruitfulness and amenity, compelled to labor for the support of life, a prey to despondency, which the recollection of their former happiness sharpened, and which their hopeless situation rendered insup- portable, died in great numbers, the innocent but unrevencred victims of European avarice. Such are the facts which have ever been admitted ; yet, strange contradiction ! Columbus is celebrated for his humanity and goodness. But should he not rather be considered as a most consummate dissembler, pro- fessing moderation while he meditated subversion, and, like most of the heroes and conquerors whom history records, re- nouncing every principle of justice and humanity when they stopped the career of his ambition ? Ferdinand Columbus, his son and biographer, has with great address covered the shame of his father; whilst the admiring world has been little disposed to censure a man the splendor of whose actions so powerfully fascinates and dazzles. k i- f LANDING OF OUR FOREFATHERS AT PLYMOUTH. The English, conducted by John Cabot, in the year 1497, found the way to North America soon after Columbus had successfully crossed the Atlantic ; but as the torrents in that country brought down no gold, and the Indians were not be- decked with any costly ornaments, no attempts were made to explore the country for near a century after its discovery. Sir Francis Drake, who traversed the whole circumference of the globe in one voyage and in one ship, which had never been achieved before, when afterwards annoying the Span- iards in the "West Indies and on the main, gained some knowl- edge of the eastern shore of the northern continent, as he had before of the western parts about the same parallel. Sir Walter Raleigh, however, was the first navigator who explored the coast, bestowed on it a name, and attempted to settle a colony. At that time colonization made no part of the system of government, so that there were few stimulants to abandon a native soil for the purpose of seeking possession in another hemisphere. At length a powerful incentive arose, stronger than the influence of kings, than the love of ease, than the dread of misery. Religion, which had long been convert- ed into the most powerful engine which human subtlety ever made use of to subjugate the mass of mankind, no sooner ceased to be so perverted than by' its own proper force it compelled large bodies of people to renounce every present enjoyment, the instinctive love of a native soil, rooted habits, 2 (13) 14 INDIAN NARRATIVES. and dearest connections, and to settle in the dreary wilds of a far-disUmt continent. When England, by a very singular concurrence of circum- stances, threw off the Papal yoke, state policy so predominated in the me?isure that the consciences of men were still re- quired to bend to the discipline, conform to the ceremonials, and assent to the doctrines which the governing powers estab- lished. Although a dissent from the church of Rome was considered as meritorious, yet a dissent from the church of England was held to be heretical, and an offence to be pun- ished by the civil magistrate. The human mind, somewhat awakened from a long suspension of its powers by a Wick- liffe, further enlightened by an Erasmus and Melancthon, and at length called forth into energy by the collusion of those two ardent and daring spirits, Luther and Calvin, then began to bend all its attention towards religious inquiries, and exer- cised all its powers in such pursuits. Hence arose a vast diversity of opinions, which gave rise to numerous sects and denominations of Christians; but as the Protestant establish- ment in England held it essential to preserve a unity of faith, those novel opinions obtained no more quarter there than under Papal power. In the year 1610 a company of persecuted religionists, composing the church of a Mr. Robinson, having previously determined to remove to a country where they might be enabled to worship God agreeably to the dictates of their consciences, emigrated to Holland, and settled in the city of Leyden, where they continued to reside untiFthe year 1620. Although the ecclesiastical laws of Holland did not at this time sanction or condemn the principles of any particular sect of Christians, yet great were the disadvantages under which the emigrants labored ; for, notwithstanding the Dutch gave them a welcome reception, and manifested a disposition to treat them with great respect, they never could be pre- vailed upon by the former to conform to their mode of wor- LANDING OP OUR FOREFATHERS AT PLYMOUTH. 15 ship, or to renounce principles which the English conceived destructive to moral society ; nor did the emigrants here succeed in other resi)ect8 agreeable to their views. So far from increasing their little Hock, they found that, in the course of ten years, they had experienced a diminution of more than one half their original number ; many, in consequence of the impoverished state of the country, had spent their estates and returned to England. Hence it was that the remaining few formed the determination of attempting once more to seek a country better adapted to their pious purposes, and such as would promise a more fruitful abode to their offspring. By some the unexplored parts of America were proposed ; and after a day set apart for solemn humiHation and praise to Almighty God, it was resolved that a part of the church should first emigrate to America, and, if there meeting with a favorable reception, should prepare an abode for the re- maindei'. They easily obtained a royal grant of a very extensive tract of land now called New England, whither they in- tended to repair, not to amass wealth or to exterminate the inhabitants, but to subsist by industry, to purchase security by honorable intercourse with the natives, and to acquire strength under the auspices of freedom. They made a purchase of two small ships, and on the 5th of August, 1620, having repaired to Plymouth, England, for the purpose, were in readiness to embark ; previous to which they were very affectionately addressed by their pious pastor. Dr. Robinson, who, in fervent prayer, commended them to the holy keeping of Him who rules the destinies of all men. At 11 A. M., with a fair wind, they set sail, and bade adieu forever to their native country. Nothing material occurred to obstruct their passage until the 20th, when they experienced a tremendous gale, which threatened tb-^. i with instant de- struction. For three days successively .aey were tossed about at the mercy of the waves : the ships were? howeverj 16 INDIAN NARRATIVES. enabled to keep company until the storm had somewhat abated, when those on board one of them, conceiving their vessel no longer seaworthy, abandoned her, and were received on board the other. On the 10th of November, they, to tlieir inexpressible joy, discovered land, which proved to be that of Cape Cod, where they with much difficulty the day following succeeded in land- ing : as soon as on shore, they fell upon their knees and returned thanks to the Almighty for enabling them to reach in safety their place of destination. But, although they had thus far succeeded in their views, although they had been enabled to flee from persecution, to cross a wide and boisterous ocean, what was their situation now ! Sojourners in a forei-n land — t;aversing the broken and unwrought shores of° a wild and unexplored country, _ they found here no friends to welcome them, or house to shelter them from the inclemency of an approaching winter. On one side they beheld nought but a hideous and desolate wilderness, the habitation of wild and ferocious animals, and probably the abode of a race of bemgs not less wild-and unmerciful; on the other the briny ocean, foaming and with tremendous roar dashing against the huge and projecting rocks, wljich, as far as the eye could perceive, marked the sea-beaten shores. After succeeding with much difficulty in discovering a harbor in which their ship could ride with safety, they made choice of ten of the most resolute of their number to explore the adjacent country, and discover, if possible, a more con- venient place for their future abode; who, on the mornin<. of the 16th, provided with a musket each, set out for this purpose. They had not penetrated the woods above hree miles when they discovered five of the natives, which were the first seen by them since their arrival. They were clothed with the skins of animals, and armed with bows and arrows. The English, with signs of friendship, made towards them, but were no sooner discovered by the savages than they, with a LANDING OP OUR FOREFATHERS AT PLYMOUTH. 17 terrible yell, fled with the greatest precipitancy. Night ap- proaching, the English erected a small temporary encamp- ment, and, after placing their sentinels, retired to rest. Early the ensuing morning they continued their journey, following for a considerable distance the tracks of the five Indians above mentioned, in hopes thereby to discover their habitations and obtain therefrom a fresh supply of provision, of which they were in much want ; but in this they did not fully succeed. At about noon they arrived at an extensive plat of clear ground, near which they discovered a pond of fresh water, and several small hillocks of raised earth, which they con- jectured to be the graves of the Indians. Proceeding a little farther west, they discovered a large quantity of stubble, which they imagined to be that of some kind of Indian grain peculiar to the country ; they also discovered a spot where they suspected an Indian hut had recently stood, as they found near by some planks curiously wrought and a small earthen pot. Proceeding still farther, they discovered a num- ber more of the little hillocks of broken ground as above described, and which they now began to suspect to be the place of deposit of something more than the dead. Curiosi- ty leading them to examine more closely one of these what they had before supposed to be Indian sepulchres, they, to their great surprise, found it to contain a large quantity of the Indian grain (corn) above mentioned. It was still in the ear, and excited to no small degree the curiosity of the Eng- lish, as they had never before seen any thing of the kind. By a few of the company the discovery was deemed of im- portance ; but by others, who had attempted to eat of the corn in its raw state, it was pronounced indifferent food, of little value. They, however, concluded it best to return and make known the discovery to their brethren. Having succeeded with some difficulty in reaching the place from which they started, they were met by those whom 2* 18 INDIAN NARRATIVES. they had left behind with the roost unspeakable joy and sat- isfaction ; to whom they exhibited a specimen of the grain which they had found, and recommended the spot from which it was procured as the most convenient and suitable at which to abide during the approaching winter. The company ac- cordingly, on the 25th, proceeded for and in safety reached the place above mentioned, with which, being so much pleased, they termed New Plymouth, in remembrance of the port at which they last embarked in Europe. Here they concluded to abide until such time as further discoveries could be made. They erected a few temporary huts, sufficient to shelter them from the weatlier, and soon after, by mutual consent, entered into a solemn combination as a body politic ; and, on the 10th of December, assembled to form for themselves such a ' government and laws as they should deem the most just and equitable ; previous to which the following instrument was drawn up, which, being first read and assented to by the com- pany, received their signatures, to wit : " In the name of God, amen. We, whose names are un- derwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James, by the grace of God King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, and defender of the faith, &c., having under- taken, for the glory of God, advancement of the Christian faith, and the honor of our king and country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of America, do by these presents solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one another, covenant and combine ourselves to- gether into a civil body politic for our own convenience and the preservation and support of the ends aforesaid ; and by virtue hereof do enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitution, and officers, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the colony, unto which we promise LANDING OF OUR FORKFATHKR8 AT PLYMOTTTII. I'J ly and sat- the grain pom which 3 at which npany ac- y reached h pleased, le port at concluded be made, ilter them t, entered I, on the es such a ' just and nent was the corn- are un- gn King , France, » under- Christian oyage to ;a, do by sence of elves to- snce and ; and by just and rs, from nvenient promise all due submission and obedience. In witness whereof, we have hereunto subscribed our names, at New Plymouth, on the 10th day of December, A. D. 1620. John Carver, William Bradford, Edward Winslow, William Brewster, Isaac Allerton, Miles Standish, Joseph Fletcher, John Goodman, Samuel Fuller, Christopher Martin, William White, Richard Warren, John Howland, Stephen Hopkins, Didgery Priest, Thomas Williams, Gilbert Winslow, Edmund Morgeson, Peter Brown, John Alden, John Turner, Francis Eaton, James Chilton, John Craxton, John Billington, Richard Bitteridge, George Soule, Edward Tilley, John Tilley, Thomas Rogers, Thomas Tinker, John Ridgdale, Edward Fuller, Richard Clarke, Richard Gardiner, John Allerton, Thomas English, Edward Liester." " The company next proceeded by ballot to the choice of a governor; and, on counting the votes, it appeared that John Carver had the greatest numl>er, and was declared chosen for one year. On the 19th of December, Mrs. Susannah White, the wife of William White, was delivered of a son, which was the first born of the English in New England. On the 21st it was agreed by the company to despatch a second exploring party by water, to make, if possible, further discoveries. The persons selected for this purpose were Gov- ernor Carver, Messrs. Bradford, Winslow, Standish, Howland, Warrfiii. Hnnkino A1tort<>p Tni^., m — 1-_ m:_i m . — J , ,..,^itoE,j Asjicj, v'iixin.«, iiiisur, iumer. 80 INDIAN NARRATIVES. and Brown : they embarked at 10 A. JNL, with u view of crcumnuvigating the deep hay of Cape Cod. On the morn- «ng of the 2;id they discovered a large party of the natives on shore, who were employed in eutting up a iish resembling u gran.pus hy order of Governor Carver, the EngHsh made „nmed,ately for the shore; but were no sooner diseov- ered by the Indjans than they, with a yell peculiar to savages, desert^ed the.rhsh and fled with precipitancy. The Enghsh landed and took possession of the fish, which, having enkindled a fire they cooked, and found to be excellent food. They con- eluded to conti,.ue encamped here through the night ; and whde employed a few rods from their boat, in which their arms were deposited, in erecting a temporary dwelling for the purpose, they were suddenly attacked by a large party them. The English, nearly panic-struck at so sudden and unexpected an onset, were on the eve of retreating to their boat, when they were reminded by their governor (a brave and experienced man) of the importance of facing the enemy and mamtamn.g their ground, as a precipitate flight might prove the.r total destruction : in the mean time two or th^^^ of the company were despatched for their arms, which having obtamed, the whole were ordered to form a close body and proceed w.th moderate pace for the boat, and, if hard pushed by the natives, to face about and give them the contend of their muskets. The Indians, perceiving the English retiring rushed froni their strong coverts, and were on^he p "^f' a^^acking them in the rear with clubs, hatchets, stones, &c when they received the fire of the latter, which brough tlfre'e' or four of them to the ground. The Indians halted' viewed or a few moments, with marks of astonishment and urprise th ir wounded brethren, and then, with one general, united yel, which probably might have been heard at the distance of three miles, fled in every direcUon. This was the 2Z engagement between the English and natives in New England •1 LANDING OF OUK FOREFATIIEUS AT PLYMOUTH. 21 I view of the morn- le natives eserabling ! English jr divscov- savages, ■ English enkindled rhey con- ?ht; and ich their illing for ge party 3 among den and to their 'a brave 3 enemy it might or three 1 having ody and pushed tents of •etiring, >oint of es, &c., It three viewed Jrprise, united istance le first Jgland, and probably the first time that the latter had ever heard the report of a musket. The English embarked and returned immediately to New ^ Plymouth, having been absent four days without making any important discoveries. The company despairing of making any further discovery of importance during the winter, con- cluded to remain at their winter quarters until the spring ensuing. The winter proved an uncommonly tedious one'] during which a great proportion of the company sickened and died : unaccustomed to hardship, and deprived of many of the necessaries of life, they fell victims to the inclemency of the season. Being thus reduced to a very small number, they would have fallen an easy prey to the savages had the latter (relying on the superiority of their strength) attacked them ; but the natives having by bitter experience learned the effects of their firearms, although they were daily seen by the English at a distance, not one of them could be pre- vailed upon to approach them within gunshot until about the 20th of March, 1621, when, to their great surprise, an Indian came boldly up to them and addressed them in broken Eng- lish. He informed them that he belonged to an eastern part of the country, and was acquainted with a number of their countrymen, who came frequently there to procure fish, and of whom he learned to speak their language. This Indian proved very serviceable to the company, in supplying them with provision, in acquainting them with the state of the country, the number and strength of the naUves, and the name of their chief sacliem, to whom he said the land which they improved belonged. The Indian being dis- missed with many presents and friendly assurances, he th°e day following returned, accompanied by the grand sachem (Mas- sasoiet) and a number of his chief men, to whom the English gave a welcome reception, presenting them with many trink- ets which the natives esteemed of great value. With Massa- Boiet ft treaty was proposed and concluded the day following, 99 INDIAN NARRATIVES. in which It WI18 fitipulatcd that the Kngh'sh and natives were to hye aini..ably together, and that thi, latter were to furnish the former with provision, and to receive in pay therefor such articles as the former were willing to }.art with ; to which terms both parties continued ever after faithfully to adhere. ' In May, 1621, the English planted their first corn in New Il-ngland. In July following their worthy governor sickened and died. His death was greatly lamented by those of the company who survived him, and by whom ho was interred with all possible solemnity. His loving consort survived him but a few weeks. In August the company made choice of Mr. William Bradford to fill the vacancy oc asioned by the death of Governor Carver. New England from this period began to be rapidly peopled by the Europeans : so great was the emigration from the mother country, that, in less than six years from the time that the first adventurers landed at New Plymouth, there were seven considerable towns built and settled in Massachusetts and Plymouth colonies. In the summer of 1627 Mr. Endicot, one of the original planters, was sent over to begin a pkatation at Naumkea-, (now Salem.) The June following about two hundred per- sons, furnished with four ministers, came over and joined Mr. Endicot's colony ; and the next year they formed them- selves into a regular church. This was the first church gath- ered in Massachusetts, and the second in New England. The church at Plymouth had been gathered eight years before. In 1629 a large embarkation was projected by the company in England : at the request of a number of respi ctable gentlemen, most of whom afterwards came over to New England, the geii eral consent of the company was obtained that the government should be transferred and settled in Massachusetts. In 1630 seventeen ships from different ports in England arrived in Ma.'«achasp.tt8 with more than fifteen hundred passengers, amo.- .vLom ^vere many persons of distinction. natives were ere to furnish therefor such ith ; to which 4 ^ to adhere. ■ corn in New *nor sickened r those of the was interred survived him ide choice of lioned by the pidly peopled on from the the time that I, there were lassachusetts the original t Naumkeag, undred per- and joined )rmed them- 2hurch gath- gland. The ears before. company in ! gentlemen, md, the geu ■ government in England }n hundred distinction. LANDING OP Oim FOflKKATIlKUS AT PLVMOUTH. 23 Incredible were the hard.hipa th/jy endurc-d: reduced to a scanty pittance of provisions, and that of a kind to which thoy had not been accustomed, and destitute of necessary ac comraodations, numbers sickened and died ; so that, before the end of the year, they lost two hundred of their number. About this time settlements were made at Charlestown, Ilos- ton, Dorchester, Camb.id;re, Koxbury, and Medford In the years 16ai? and 1G33 great additions were made to the colony. Such was the rage tor emigration to New Eng- ^nd that f»,n king and council thought fit to issue an order February ., 1G33, to prevent it. The order, however, was not strictly obeyed. In 1035 the foundation of a new colony was laid in Con- necticut, adjoining the river which passes through the state: ot this river and the country adjacent Lord Say and Lord Brook were the proprietors : at the mouth of said river a fort by their direction was built, which, in honor to them, was called Saybrook Fort. New Haven was settled soon after the building of this fort, as was a number of other towns of con- siderable note in Connecticut. Some dilRculty arising among those who first settled at New Plymouth, a part of the inhab- itants, to prevent any serious consequences, removed to a I)leasant and fertile island to the south-west of Cape Cod now called Rhode Island, while others settled at Providence War- wick, Taunton, &c. Thus it was that in the course of a very few years a great part of New England, which so late was an uncultivated forest resounding witl, the yells of savages and beasts of prey, became the place of abode of our persecuted forefathers. But this newly-settled country was not to be acquired with- out b oodshed. The natives, although they at first appeared harmless and well disposed towards the new settlers, from the rapid increase and too frequent aggressions of the latter the jealousy of the former was excited, which they soon began more openly to manifest, as will appear by what follows. A" ^' r '» iy - i t COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH THE NATIVES. Therj was a tribe of Indians which inhabited the borders of Connecticut River, from its mouth to witLin a few miks of Hartford, called Pequots, a tierce, cruel, and warlike tribe, and the inveterate enemies of the English ; never failing to improve every opportunity to exercise towards them the most wanton acts of barbarity. In June, 1634, they treacherously murdered a Captain Stone and a Captain Norton, who had been long in the habit of visiting them occasionally to trade. In August, 1635, they inhumanly murdered a Mr. Weeks and his whole family, consisting of a wife and six children; and soon after murdered the wife and children of a Mr. Williams, residing near Hartford. Finding, however, that by their un- provoked acts of barbarity they had enkindled the resentment of the English, (who, aroused to a sense of theii- danger, were making preparation to exterminate this cruel tribe,) the Pe- quots despatched messengers with gifts to the governor of the new colonies — the Hon. Josiah Winslow. He being, how- ever, inflexible in his deternii^iation to revenge the deaths of his friends, dismissed these messengers without an answer. The Pequots finding the English resolute and determined, and fearing the consequence of their resentment, the second time despatched messengers with a large quantity of wampum (Indian money) as a present to the governor and council; with whom the latter had a considerable conference, and at length concluded a peace on the following terms : (2'i; m TH THE he borders few miles rlike tribe, r failing to tn the most acherously k, who had y to trade. I^eeks and ildreo; and . Williams, Y their un- resentment nger, were 3,) the Pe- rnor of the eing, how- deaths of m answer, etermined, he second f wampum d council; ice, and at (24; COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 25 ARTICLES. I. The Pequots shall deliver up to the English those of their tribe that are guilty of the deaths of their countrymen. II. The Pequots shall relinquish to the English all their right and title to the lands lying within the colony of Con- necticut. III. The English, if disposed to trade with the Pequots, shall be treated as friends. To these articles the Pequots readily agreed and promised faithfully to adhere, and at the same time expressed a desire to make peace with the Narraganset Indians, with whom they were then at war. Soon after the conclusion .of peace with the Pequots, the English, to put their fair promises to the test, sent a small boat into the river, on the borders of which they resided, with the pretence of trade ; but so great was the treachery of the natives, that, after succeeding by fair promises in enticing the crew of said boat on shore, they were by them inhumanly murdered. The Pequots, despairing of again deceiving the English in the manner they had late done, now threw off the mask of friendship, and, avowing themselves the natural enemies of the English, commenced open hostilities against them, barba- rously murdering all that were so unfortunate as to fall into their hands. A few families were at this time settled at or near Wcathersfield, Connecticut, the whole of whom were carried away captives by them. Two girls, the daughters of a Mr. Gibbons, of Hartford, were in the most brutal manner put to death : after gashing their flesh with their knives, the Indians iilled their wounds with hot embers, in the mean time mimicking their dying groans. The Pequots, encouraged by the trifling resistance made by the English to their wanton acts of barbarity, on the 20th 3 t 26 INDIAN NARRATIVES. of June, 1636, besieged Fort Saybrook, in which there were about twenty men stationed: the Indians were to the number of about one hundred and fifty. They surrounded and furious- ly attacked the fort at midnight, horribly yelling, and mimick- ing the dying groans of such as had fallen victims to their barbarity ; but the English, being fortunately provided with a piece of cannon or two, caused their savage enemies to groan in reality, who, after receiving two or three deadly fires from the besiegetl, retreated, leaving behind them dead or mortally wounded about twenty of their number : the English sustained no loss in the attack. The governor and council of Massachusetts colony, alarmed at the bold and daring conduct of the Pequots, on the 20th of August despatched Captain Endicot, of Salem, with ninety men, to avenge the murders committed by them, unless they should consent to deliver up the murderers and make repara- tion for the injuries which the English had sustained. Cap- tain Endicot was directed to proceed first to Block Island, (then inhabited by the Pequots,) put the men to the sword, and take possession of the island : the women and children were to be spared. Thence he was to proceed to the Pequot coun- try, demand the murderers of the English, a thousand fathom of wampum, and a number of their children as hostages. Captain Endicot sailed from Boston on the morning of the 20th. When he arrived at Block Island, about sixty°Indians appeared on the shore and opposed his landing ; his men soon, however, effected a landing, and after a little skirmishing drove the Indians into the woods, where they could not be^found. The English continued two days on the island, in which time they destroyed one hundred wigwams and about fifty canoes, when they proceeded for the Pequot country. When they arrived in Pequot Harbor, Captain Endicot acquainted the enemy with his designs and determination to avenge the cru- . elties practised upon his countrymen. In a few moments nearly five hundred of the enemy collected upon the shores j ■f COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 27 I there were >■ the number and furious- and mimick- ims to their vided with a lies to groan y fires from or mortally ish sustained >ny, alarmed the 20th of with ninety unless they lake repara- ined. Cap- lock Island, the sword, lildren were equot coun- land fathom stages, ning of the sty Indians s men soon, shing drove . be found, which time ifty canoes, IVhen they minted the ?c the cru- . r moments he shores ; but as soon as they were made acquainted with the hostile views of the JEnglish, they hastily withdrew and secreted themselves in swamps and ledges inaccessible to the troops. Captain Endicot landed his men on both sides the harbor, burned their wigwams and destroyed their canoes, killed an Indian or two, and then returned to Boston. Enough, indeed, bad been done to exasperate, but nothing to subdue, a haughty and warlike enemy. Sassacus (chief sachem of the Pequots) and his captains tvere men of great and independent spirits ; they had con- quered and governed the nations around them without con- trol ; they viewed the English as strangers and mere intruders, who had no right to the country, nor to control its original proprietors, independent princes and sovereigns ; they had made settlements at Connecticut without their consent, and brought home the Indian kings whom they had conquered, and restored to them their authority and lands; they had built a fort, and were making a settlement, without their appro- bation, in their very neighborhood. Indeed, they had now proceeded to attack and ravage the country. The Pequots, in consequence, breathed nothing but war and revenge ; they were determined to extirpate or drive all the English from New England. For this purpose they conceived the plan of uniting the Indians generally against them. They spared no art nor pains to make peace with the Narragansets and to engage them in the war against the English, to whom they represented that the English, who were merely foreigners, were overspreading the country, and depriving the original inhabitants of their ancient rights and possessions ; that, unless effectual measures were immediately taken to prevent it, they would soon entirely disj^ossess the original proprietors and become the lords of the continent. They insisted that, by a general combination, they could either destroy or drive them from the country ; that there would be no necessity of commg to open battles ; that by killing their cattle, firing their- houses. i f I ) 28 INDIAN NARRATIVES, lying ambushes on the roads, in th. fields, and wherever thev the Narra^anso^, « i-oquok they wouM ako soon destroy •ationsXf igh:irat:htrr" '"" '"^^ '^'''^-- the savage hear, ofl ^ tt.Id tTJ'^V''''* '""'""^ H .^ said that for son,e tir.hTr a tZrS^d'"^^^^' -l^:^7n:«:Ltdtirx^^^^^^^ Narraganset Indians and thp .nl V ^ ^'^ ^''^'"" ^^^ to invite M.„t.„,^n:ns::::;t^^^^^^^ vitation was accenfnrl h^ tvt- *• • ^o^ton. ihe m- «*a accepted by Miantniomi, and whilp af T^^„f -u the pU'iit^- r;xr.„s:i?y ::it::! En' i h brdT"'' ^'°"^'" '■"'"'' "- --ie" f he' 'r:t"iai^:'-r^;r:e:^tr:r'^-'' bets were to furnish guides. «"ioon destroy i represen- ch inflames Je; indeed, ated. n between stween the messenger ' The in- at Boston y, the sub- ould be a 'ragansets ke peace lented to ; es of the uld resort m notice rarragan- ^ony rep- >rosecute ontinued arbarity. contain- ■my as it or some th over- lad suc- I'om the manner S thens upon trees by the river side. They represented that the affairs of Connecticut colony at this moment wore a nost gloomy aspect ; that they had sustained great losses in cattle and goods the preceding years, but were still more unfortu- nate the present ; that a most dreadful and insidious enemy were now seeking opportunity to destroy them ; that they could neither hunt, fish, nor cultivate their fields, nor travel at home or abroad, but at tlie peril of their lives ; that they were obliged to keep a constant watch by night and day ; to go armed to their daily labors and to the houses of public wor- ship. And although desirous to prosecute the war more ef- fectually with the common enemy, they were not in a situa- tion to do it ; and therefore humbly prayed for assistance. The report of the horrid and unprovoked cruelties of the Pequots, practised upon the defenceless inhabitants of Con- necticut colony, roused the other colonies to harmonious and spirited exertions against them. Massachusetts determined to send two hundred and Plymouth forty men to assist their unfortunate brethren in prosecuting the war. Captain Patrick, with forty men, was sent forward before the other troops, in order that he might be enabled seasonably to form a junction with the troops in Connecticut, who, notwithstanding their weak and distressed state, had engaged to furnish ninety men. On Wednesday, the 10th of May, the Connecticut troops proceeded for their fort at Saybrook. They consisted of ninety Englishmen and seventy Mohogan and river Indians — the hitter commanded by Uncus, sachem of the Mohegans, and the former by Captain John Mason, who was accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Stone, of Hartford, as chaplain. The Mo- hegans, being detached from tlie English on their way to Say- brook, fell in with a considerable body of the enemy, whom they attacked and defeated ; th(iy killed twenty-two, and took eighteen of them prisoners. Among the prisoners there was one who was recognized as a perfidious villain : he had lived in the fort with the English n* ■*r#^ 4 I I 30 INDIAN NAKRATIVE9. some time before, and well understood their language: ho re- inauied attached to their interest until the commencement of hostal.ties with the Pequots, when he deserted the garrison and jomed the enemy, whom he served as guide, and through ^vhose mstigation many of the English l,ad been captured and put to death. Uncus and his men insisted upon executing him according to the custom of their ancestors; and the Engt hsh, m the circumstances in which they then were, did not judge It prudent to interfere. The Indians enkindled a fire near which they confined the prisoner to a stake, in which sit' uat.on he remained until his skin became parched with the heat : the Mohegans then violently tore him limb from limb Barbarously cutting his flesh in pieces, they handed it round from one to another, eating it while they sung and danced round the fire in a manner peculiar to savages. The bones and such parts of the unfortunate captive as were not con- suraed m this dreadful repast were committed to the flames and consumed to ashes. On the 16th Captain Mason and his men proceeded for Narraganset Bay, at which place they safely arrived on the ^Ist. Captain Mason marched immediately to the phintation of Canomcus, a Narraganset sachem, and acquainted him with h.s designs, and immediately after despatched a messen- ger to Miantinomi to inform him likewise of the expedition. The next day Miantinomi, with his chief counsellors and war- mrs, met the English. Captain Mason informed him that the cause of his entering his country with an armed force M-as to avenge the injuries which the Pequots had done the ^Lnghsh and desired a free passage to their forts, which th«y intended to attack. After a solemn consultation in the Indian manner, Miantinomi observed that "he highly approved of he expedition, and would send men to assist the English, but hat ^ley were too few in number to fight the enemy ; that U.e Pequots were great warriors, and ruther slighted the COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 31 jage : he re- jucement of he garrison ind through aptured and n executing id the Eng- ere, did not died a fire, n which sit- ed with the from limb, ed it round ind danced The bones e not con- the flames ceeded for 'ed on the phintation kinted Jiim a messen- !xpedition. 3 and war- bim that med force done the hich they the Indian iroved of iglish, but my; that ;hted the Captain Mason landed his men and marched to the planta- tion of Miantinomi, which, by previous agreement, was to be the place of general rendezvous. In the evening an Indian runner arrived with information that Captain Patrick, with the men under his command, had arrived at the plantation of Roger Williams, in Providence, and was desirous that Cap- tain Mason should postpone his march until such time as he could join him. Captain Mason, after mature deliberation, determined, however, not to wait his arrival, although a junc- tion was considered important. His men had already been detained much longer than was agreeable to their wishes, and the Mohegans apparently were impatient for battle. The little army, therefore, (consisting of ninety Englishmen, sixty Mohegans and river Indians, and about two hundred Narra- gansets,) commenced their march on the 24th, and in the even- ing of that day reached Nihantick, which bounded on the country of the Pequots. Nihantick was the seat of a Narra- ganset sachem, who seemed displeased with the expedition, -and would not suffer the English to enter bis fort. Captain Mason, suspecting the treachery of this fellow, placed a sen- tinel at night at the entrance of the fort, determined that, as he could not be permitted to enter, no one should come out to advise the enemy of his approach. On the morning of the 25th Captain Mason was joined by an additional number of the Narragansets and a few of the Nihanticks. They formed a circle, and, brandishing their scalping knives, made protestations how gallantly they would fight and what numbers they would kill, &c. Captain Ma^on had now under his command near five hundred Indians in addition to his former force, with whom he early resumed his march for the head quarters of the enemy. The day proved uncommonly warm, and the men, through excessive heat and want of provision, were only enabled by night to reach Paucatuck River, where the Narragansets began to manifest great fear and inquire of Captain Mason his real INDIAN NARRATIVES. designs. He assured them that 'it was to attack the Pe- prised, and «hrbUed a'dilpltJn T """^.T """"^ '"■ return home. "'V^'ion to quit the English and He gave such W„™a.i„„*'!e£Vl.'''' '''""'^ ''''"•"'■'''• of the enemy from ea^h T ! ''""*"°° "*' "■« f""' then from that ofThe chief It' ""' "" ''''»"'"= "-^^ "^^ »on to determine ,0 a„ack.!l?' '"J"''""'"^ ^"P'"'" ^"^ sented as situated :.teterd''oCj''-t'''^ ^t ■^'•■^- men so much fatigued in march „^ .1 u "° '""""^ •>" "ess, wiih their provilrirl? '^/""S""" ?"""««» "iMer. -oiution appearLTr-aZ,';:;' n^^Vt'.^ s»amp!wL. C^il" n'r,' '""''°™ P«"«^'"^d » thick fr«m.tfo:;,xs hitr"" r "^ '»' •"»•»' roehs, now known' 'hy .he nt " ' pZ". X^ '"", '"I^ in Groton : the sentinel., xvJ,^ -sorters Kocks, situated front of the m«r dt;f heXn ;™*'^ ^''™™^ '" enemy singing and danL"^ ItL^X^^raf It^tt '"^ inasing,eaetio„,:„7 rdetid'dtrre'Tal '"f'T ^""'' one liundred brave mpn a! ^ *^''''' ""^ ^^^^ than .en were arou^sTfroT.e.fsCrr: '^Xt^L^ "^ ;^erd":iXrhrct^^^^^^^^^^^ When within a few lodsof the f r ■ '"™^'^ *°"- Uncus and Waquash IVL' • e lemt 'tl^^d- ""* '" ner to haranirue and ,„.«.. . .u- "^ ^"^'**» ^lan- -epHed thatt-tirir: : '^'z!" ?"""••• -^"ey prevailed upon to advanl an7 arthf " ' ""c^'T T "^ Captain Mason, .<„„a re,„est^h:X toti!^ rt ^ tack the Pe- greatlj sur- English and •om Sassacus, oved faithful. 5 of the forts !e they were Captain Ma- ?uide repre- le found his iless wilder- n, that this The little . proceeded *ted a thick far distant n two large s," situated dvanced in heard the eir fort. 1 the very the sword f less than •e day the icers, and, Almighty, wy's fort. 1 sent for lian man- ■t. Tiiey d not be len," said !, but to COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 33 surround the fort at any disfance thoy please, and see what courage Englislimun can display." Tlie day was now dawn- ing, and no time was to be lost ; tl)e fort was soon in view ; the soldiers pressed forward, animated with the reflection that it was not for themselv s alone they were about to tight, but for their parents, wives, children, and countrymen. As they approached the fort within a short distance, they were dis- covered by a Pequot sentinel, who roared out, "Owanux! Owanux ! " (Englishmen ! Englishmen !) The troops pressed on, and as the Indians were rallying poured in u[)oii them the contents of their muskets, and, instantly hastening to the prin- cipal entrance of the fort, rushed in, sword in hand. An im- portant moment this ; for, notwithstanding the blaze and thun- der of the arms of the English, the Pequots made a manly and desperate resistance : sheltered by their wigwams, and rallied by their sachems and squaws, they defended them- selves, and, in some instances, attacked the English with a resolution that would have done honor to Romans. After a bloody and desperate conflict of near two hours' continuance, in which hundreds of the Indians were slain and many of the English killed and w:,unded, victory still hung in suspense. In this critical state of the action Captain Mason had re- course to a sncr^essful expedient : rushing into a wi-^wam within the fr: ,1 a brand of fire, and in the mean time crying out i. n, » We must burn them ! » commu- nicated it to the nu a vhich the wigwams were covered, by which means the wnole fort was very soon inwrapped in flames : as the fire increased, the English retired and formed a circle around the fort : the Mohegans and Narragansets, who had remained idle spectators to the bloody conflict, now mustered courage sufficient to form another circle in the rear of them. The enemy were now in a deplorable situation ; death inevitably was their portion. Sallying forth from their burning cells, they were shot or cut in pieces by the Eno-fish • many of them, perceiving it impossible to escape the'^vigi- B4 INDIAN NARRATIVES. 'Z::' "'" '"^''' '"-- "-n-vea volun.aHl, into .he ages in tl,e fort and ^ , ^^^ ""'' ?''"' "f 'he sav- two hours Cron, the cfZl. 1 '"'""• '" '«»» "•«« English completed tie rw"h!"2r.v •'' "'"""^ "^"^ '"» anJ upwards of ei-hl hund„ . f ? *^""'"" "^''''''-rned, a"« children, the :„:;',"■" ""''"'''"'' '"'^^"'' yonng, periled in proZ o , r n -"rio^' f^ t"" '"» :-: ZnTd"''^ "■"•- - --dil^ 'Xt in s EnX; tre';::::^, :: '^zrr r^^--'- - '-» (whieh, fortunately for "C a^th "" ""'"' """' "''^''' harbor,) , hey were attacl^ed^:' T"""' """"^ "■ 'he of the enemy, wl.o had b« ' .''" 'T "^ ""'"" 'hree hundred for. .0 assist'theirlettr TrSL'™" ""-S-""™? a reception that tliev soon „. ° ^'"■'' ""^ »" "arm of aetion, where, v" for »' T "' *" ''«='' '° ""e tield ".a.ks of horror' and sip ri e the" TT''' "'"■ '">P'->' presented, they stamped bX' 1^ 5 '"« "='"' "hich it .heir hair fro^ tb rt': ' rnl'tr' ""V""^'' ™"- '»- pursued the English as tf „■ ',b V ' """" " ''''''^°"' J-e", deaths of their^fri td" e^S^ «"™h.a.ion to avenge^be They pursued the KmZ.^ '^"'^ "'' "■«"• ""es. -•"g at a distance fromtehind^^r 1"'' ^°™«"'^^ '''°°'- Pressing hard upon U,em Ind T 7 "'''' ""'* ^''"■<^«"»» field. The Engi: , ^ numbtrofth' 'T""'" "" °P™ loss on .heir part, "hen a ^o fell .I^'mo?"'""^'' "° ery out, " Run and feteh hi, head." Th ^"=8""^ "ould length that they diseh-irm.,! ,h ' """"^ """'"8 a' English appeared TCtT:;^^:^: ™"' """ """"«> over the pursuit. supplied with ammumtion, gave COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 35 intarilyinto the )f the light, the ells of the sav- Wendly Indians In less than oody action the IS were burned, 'oyod; parents aged and the >f the English 7-five in killed eraent, as the their vessels, rrived in the three hundred I neighboring them so warm ;k to the field 'ith apparent eue which it ige rage tore hideous yell^ 3 avenge the ' their lives, times shoot- d sometimes Ives in open ustained no igans would y finding at nd that the lition, gave In less than three weeks from the time the English cm- barked at Saybrook they returned, with the exception of the few killed and wounded, in safety to their respective habita- tions. Few enterprises were ever, perhaps, achieved with more personal bravery ; in few have so great a proportion of the effective men of a whole colony, sttUe, or nation been put to so great and immediate danger ; in few have a people been so deeply and immediately interested as were the Eng- lish inhabitants of Connecticut at this important crisis, — in these respects even the great armaments and battles of Eu- rope are comparatively of little importance, — and it ought never to be forgotten, that, through the bravery and uncon- querable resolution of less than one hundred men, Connecticut was once saved, and the most warlike and terrible tribe of Indians in New England completely exterminated. The few Pequots Jiat now remained alive, conceiving it unsafe to inhabit longer a country so exposed to invasion, re- 1^ moved far to the westward ; among whom was Sassacus, their principal sachem. On the 25th of June the Connecticut troops under command of Captain Mason, together with a company from Massachusetts commanded by Captain Stough- ton, were sent in pursuit of them. They proceeded westward, and on the 27th fell in with, attacked, and defeated a consid- erable body of them. They took about fifty of them prison- ers, among whom were two sachems, whose lives were offered them on condition of their serving as guides to the English. The English on their march frequently fell in with small detached parties of the enemy, whom they captured or de- stroyed, but could not obtain any information relative to the main body commanded by Sassacus. Finding that the two sachem prisoners would not give them the information re- quired, they, on the 27th, beheaded them at a place called Menunkatuck, (now Guilford,) from which circumstance the place still bears the name of " Sachems' Head." The Eng- lish, on the 30th, arrived at Quinnioiak. ^now New Havpn^ 36 INDIAN NAUnATlVES. Oa, arrived «1 „ ^ r /r,""' ""■' •"',"- --".•"« "nyono I,,,, ,h„ nmives i^l/ ,• r r " '"'«'='^»«iW« 'o most advisable ,„ »u™ „', Z ^ ' """•"'^''■'^' """"-'l.t it - opportunity IZZ T, 77 """ """"^ "'« «-'y S.an.„„, ineerpj .'I" J;'":':, '7"^ «™"'«' "'™. TLoma, 'h™. Hewa', a„.„„l':.^J::"',r,r"' '" '7' """ shed tl,e blood of Kri^li,!,™! ■""''' "' ''"'' "«' tl.e place, toanVl T : T" "'™'' ""^ ^'«^'>«m "f «ere pfmir,c,l i„ retire- but Zp^,'""'""""'- •l>at " tl,ey had both sh ■ l^;„,1 ? u'^"'"' '"'''">' ''<«'>--'-'d and would no, upon , oh ,e™ ^^ ?'"'"' "^ I="g"»l">.on, it out." The Cli I Z """P' "'^ '■'■''• '™' "ould flgh insulting lanluf^Te ; ,,""p ^"' '" '"•°'"' "'" "-••"» "nd n.ea„s ' attreXl Te bo^!?/ f™"'- f "°" '° ■"="- lay. The officer, ,J, ■ ^ ™ "■"''°"' ''""'k'i- de- ti.e.nodeof a. LT:;er;"'r '''""' '" "P"'- - '" o.l.e,-3 for outtingtlie ;r„" : ?'"',''l "" " "" "™"'l.. for surroundin/i V h a 1 7"f " ' '""ehets. and othe'-s of whieb plan," were ll» ''""K'T"' °' '""'"«'«• ■"■i""-'r l-acbed 'the Kr^Ih tt^'^^^X' .1^^ "''"' "'- winch ,„ea„., Us eircumferenoe m,l mue , . T™™'"' ''^' enabled so completely ,„ sur^ul . e"e ct?" t"'""""^ llieir escape during ihe niWif Fn,.i T '^ P''"""' ll.e Indians, perceiving M,!',' ^' "'° '"■"""« 'n''™i"g ti.o ^nsiish,sra vM ritirrt'Vr"'' ■•- "^ lines, they were, however, drit^baktiMr T""'' ""■''■ next attempted to force the li ™ d .fl c"' ''"'"^ troops; but here they met wifb ." , ^ Conuect.cut The contest .,ow heca^^e^dlsn^rscT:; .Tl-lHr^"™' I COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 37 t'qiiot that the (^8 to the west- he succeeding c'h fhey found inaccessible to 'e, thought it loy the enemy ' n few 6k ir- thera, Tliomas to treat with ^ as had not « sachem of of his tribe, iir innocence, dly declared Englishmen, : would fight threats and w to devise further de- "'nion as to the swamp, . and others 1«; neitlicr 5 night ap- swamp, hy i, and they to prevent g morniuif ned in by >ugh their ss. They onnecticut I'cception. 'fans, wJio were about six hundn'd in number, appeared determined not to yield but at the expense of their lives. One of the most resolute of them walked bohlly up to Captain Mason with un uplifted tomahawk, and when about to give the futal stroke received a blow from the hitter, who, with his cutlass, severed the head of the savage from his body. The enemy soon after made another attempt to break through the lines of the Eng- lish, and in which, after a violent struggle, they finally suc- ceeded. About sixty of their bravest warriors escaped, the remainder being either killed or tak(!a prisoners. The loss of the English was eleven killed and about twenty wounded. The prisoners taken were divided among the troops, some of whom were retained by them as servants, and the remain- der sent to the West Indies and sold to the planters. The prisoners reported that the whole tribe of Pequots was now nearly exterminated ; that in different engagements there had been upwards of two thousand of them killed, and about one thousand captured, among whom were thirteen sachems ; and that six yet survived, one of whom was Sassacus, who had fled with the fragment of his tribe to the country border- ing on Hudson River inhabited by the Mohawks. After the swamp fight the Pequots became so weak and scattered that the Mohegans and Narragansets daily destroyed them and presented their scalps to the English ; the few that fled with Sassacus to the westward were attacked and totally destroyed by the Mohawks. The scalp of Sassacus was, in the fall of 1G38, presented to the governor and council of Massacliusetts. Soon after the extermination of the Pequots the Narra- gansets, the most numerous tribe in New England, being dis- pleased with the small power with which they were vested and the respect which the English uniformly manifested for Uncus, appeared disposed to break their treaty of friendship. Miantinomi, without consulting the English according to agreement, v/ithout proclaiming war, or giving Uncus the 4 I ii:^ i ^-^nzo f ^ 38 INDIAN NAKKATIVES. least information, raised an army of one thousand men and marched against him. The spies of Uncus discovered the army at some distance and gave him intelligence. He was unprepared ; but, rallying about five hundred of his bravest men, he told them they must by no means suffer Miantinomi to enter their town, but must go and give him battle on the way. The Mohegans, having marched three or four miles, met the enemy upon an extensive plain. When the armies had advanced within fair bowshot of each other, Uncus had recourse to stratagem, with which he had previously ac- quainted his warriors. He desired a parley, which being granted, both armies halted in the face of each other. Uncus" gallantly advancing in front of his men, addressed Mianti- nomi to this effect: "You have a number of stout men with you ; and so have I with me. It is a great pity that so many brave warriors should be killed in consequence of a private misunderstanding between us two. Come like a brave man, as you profess to be, and let us decide the dispute alone : if you kill me, my men shall be yours ; but if I kill you, your men shall be mine." "No," replied Miantinomi; "my men come to fight; and they shall fight." Upon which Uncus falling instantly to the ground, his men discharged a shower of arrows among the Narragansets, and without a moment's interval, rushing upon them in the most furious manner with a hideous yell, put them to flight. The Mohegans pursued the enemy with the same fury and eagerness with which they commenced the action. The Narragansets were driven down rocks and precipices, and chased like a doe by the huntsmen : many of them, to esciape from their pursuers, plunged into a river from rocks of near thirty feet in height; among others Miantinomi was hard pushed : some of the most forward of the Mohegans, coming up with him, twirled him about, and impeded his flight, that Uncus, their sachem, might alone have the honor of taking him. Uncus, who was a man of great J „i,!t!.!g,tn, iUoHin^ iOii-sf«iu iiuc u lion greeay of hi8 1* nd men and covered the Be. He was his bravest Miantinorni battle on the ■ four miles, 1 the armies I Uncus had sviously ac- vhich beins: er. Uncus, sed Mianti- stout men pity that so [uence of a ike a brave pute alone : II you, your ; " my men lich Uncus d a shower I moment's anner with 13 pursued which they riven down huntsmen : ged into a cng others or ward of about, and ilone have 1 of great ady of his COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 39 prey, seized Miantinorni by the shoulder, and, giving the Indian whoop, called up his men who were behind to his assist- ance. The victory was complete. About fifty of the Narra- gansets were killed, and a much greater number wounded and taken prisoners ; among the latter was a brother of Mianti- nomi and two of the sons of Canonicus, whom Uncus con- ducted in triumph to Mohegan. Some few days after Uncus conducted Miantinomi back to the spot where he was taken, for the purpose of putting him to death. At the instant they arrived on the ground, an Indian, who was ordered to march in the rear for the purpose, sunk a hatchet into his head and despatched him at a single stroke. He was probably unac- quainted with his fate, and knew not by what means he fell. Uncus cut out a large piece of his shoulder, which he devoured in savage triumph, declaring in the mean time that " it was the sweetest meat he ever ate ; it made his heart strong ! " The Mohegans buried Miantinomi at the place of his execu- tion, and erected upon his grave a pillar of stones. This memorable event gave the place the name of " Sachem's Plains." They are situated in an eastern corner of Norwich. The Narragansets became now greatly enraged at the death of their sachem, and sought means to destroy Uncus, whose country they in small parties frequently invaded, and, by lay- ing ambushes, cut otf a number of his most valuable warriors. As Uncus was the avowed friend of the English, and had in many instances signalized himself as such, they conceived it their duty to afford him all the protection possible. They despatched messengers to acquaint the Narragansets with their determination, should they continue to molest and dis- turb the repose of the Mohegans. The messengers of the English met with quite an unfavorable reception, to whom one of the Narraganset sachems declared that " he would kill every Englishman and Mohegan that came within his reach ; that whoever began the war he would continue it, and that nothing should satisfy him but the head of Uncus ! " 40 INDIAN NARRATIVES. i ■'S -! i The English, irritated at the provoking language of the Narragansets, now determined not only to protect Uncus, but to invade their country with an army of three hundred men ; first to propose a peace on their own terms, but, if rejected, to attack and destroy them. For this purpose Massachusetts was to furnish one hundred and ninety, and Plymouth and Connecticut colonies fifty-five, men each. The Narragansets learning that an army was about to enter the heart of their country, and fearful of the issue, despatched several of their principal men to sue for peace on such terms as the English should be pleased to grant. The governor and council demanded that they should restore to Uncus all the captives and canoes which they had taken from him, and pledge themselves to maintain perpetua' peace with the Eng- lish and their allies, and to the former pay an annual tribute of two thousand fathom of white wampum. These, indeed, were hard terms, against which the Narragansets strongly remonstrated ; but, aware that the English had already a con- siderable force collected for the express purpose of invading their country, they at length thought it most prudent to ac- quiesce. During the war between the Narragansets and Uncus, the former once besieged the fort of the latter until his provisions were nearly exhausted, and he found that his men must soon perish either by famine or the tomahawk unless speedily re- lieved. In this crisis he found means of communicating an account of his situation to the English scouts, who had been despatched from the fort in Saybrook to reconnoitre the en- emy. Uncus represented the danger to which the English would be exposed if the Narragansets should succeed in de- stroying the Mohegans. It was at this critical juncture that the greatest part of the English troops in Connecticut were employed on an expedition abroad. A Mr. Thomas Lelling- well, however, a bold and enterprising man, on learning the situation of Uncus, loaded a canoe with provision, and, under COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 41 age of the Uncus, but idred men ; rejected, to ^sachusetts mouth and )ut to enter despatched such terras ; governor Uncus all 1 him, and 1 the Eng- ual tribute se, indeed, s strongly ady a con- f invading ent to ac- Jncus, the provisions must soon teedily re- icating an had been e the en- e English ed in de- .'ture that ticut were s LtilJing- rning the ,nd, under ;l W M cover of night, paddled from Say brook into the River Thames, and had the address to get the whole into the fort. The enemy soon after discovering that Uncus had received sup- plies, raised the siege : for this piece of service Uncus pre- sented said LefBngwell with a deed of a very large tract of land, now comprising the whole town of Norwich. The English in New England now enjoyed a peace until the year 1671, when they again took up arms to revenge the death of one of their countrymen who had been inhumanly murdered by an Indian belonging to the Nipnet tribe, of which the celebrated Philip, of Mount Hope, (now Bristol, R. I.,) was sachem. It was thought the most prudent step by the governor and council first to send for Philip and acquaint him with the cause of their resentment and the course which they were determined to pursue in case he refused to deliver into their hands the murderer. Philip being accordingly sent for, and appearing before the court, appeared much dissatis- fied with the conduct of the accused, assuring them that no pains should be spared to bring him to justice ; and more fully to confirm his friendship for the English, expressed a wish that the declaration which he was about publicly to make might be committed to paper, that he and his council might thereunto affix their signatures. The governor and council, in compliance with the request of Philip, drew up the follow- ing, which, after being signed by Philip and his chief men, was presented to the governor by Philip in confirmation of his friendly assurances : — " Whereas my father, my brother, and myself have uni- formly submitted to the good and wholesome lav.'s of his majesty the King of England, and have ever respected his faithful subjects, the English, as our friends and brothers, and being still anxious to brighten the chain of friendship between us. WP flo nnw Pmhrnnn tliiJ nr«i><»t.f nnitir *<-» »»lo«1nr<. nii'-'^ol'-ot! - , ... „„ ,.j.^ ,,.!..^ ,.! j.;.,..j3« ,,!!,.„,,,,.- that we will spare no pains in seeking out and bringing to 4* 42 INDIAN NARRATIVES. justice such of our tribe as shall hereafter commit any outrage against them; and to remove all suspicion, we voluntarily agree to deliver up to them all the firearms which they have heretofore kindly presented us with until such time as they can safely repose confidence in us ; and for the true perform- ance of these our sacred promises, we have hereunto set our hands. Chief Sachem. Philip's H mark. Chief Men. Pokanoket's H mark. Uncombo's \^ mark. Samkama's X mark. Wocokom's ^ mark. In presence of the governor and council." Notwithstanding the fair promises of Philip, it was soon discovered by the English that he was playing a deep game ; that he was artfully enticing his red brethren throughout the whole of New England to rise, en masse, against them, and drive them out of the country. The Narragansets for this purpose had engaged to raise four thousand fighting men. The spring of 1672 was the time agreed upon on which the grand blow was to be given. The evil intentions of Philip were first discovered and communicated to the English by a friendly Indian of the Narraganset tribe : fortunately for them, this Indian had been taken into favor by the Rev. Mr. Elliot, by whom he had been taught to read and write, and became much attached to the English. The governor, upon receiving the important information relative to the hostile views of Philip, ordered a military watch to be kept up in all the Eng- lish settlements within the three colonies ; by some of whom it was soon discovered that the report of their Indian friend was too Wcji founued, as the Indians of different tribes were daily seen flocking in great numbers to the head quartera (rf" I "t -4 I COMMEiNCKMENT OP HOSTILITIES Wmi NATIVKS. 43 any outrage voluntarily I they have me aa they le perform- nto set our 1. ,rk. >^ mark, mark, mark, mark. t was soon eep game ; ughout the them, and its for this Siting men. which the of Philip iglish by a y for them, Mr. Elliot, id became 1 receiving I views of 1 the Eng- of whom ian friend ribes were carters oi Philip, previously sending their wives and children to the Narraganset country, which they had ever done previous to the commencement of hostilities. The inhabitants of Swanzey, a small settlement adjoining Mount Hope, the head quarters of Philip, were the first who felt the effects of this war. Philip, encouraged. by the num- bers who were daily enlisting under his banners, and despair- ing of discovering cause that could justify him in the com- mencement of hostilities against his " friends and brothers," as he had termed them, resolved to provoke them to war by killing their cattle, firing their barns, &;c. This plan had its desired effect, as the inhabitants, determined to save their property or perish in the attempt, fired upon the Indians, which was deemed cause sufficient by the latter to commence their bloody work. The war whoop was immediately thereupon sounded, when the Indians commenced an indiscriminate mur- der of the defenceless inhabitants of Swanzey, sparing not the tender infant at the breast ; but three of seventy-eight persons which the town contained made their escape. Mes- sengers were despatched with the melancholy tidings of this bloody affair to the governor, who, by and with the advice and consent of the council, despatched a company of militia with all possible speed to the relief of the distressed inhabit- ants residing near the head (piarters of Philip. As soon as they could be raised, three companies more were despatched, under the command of Captains Henchman, Prentice, and Church, who arrived in the neighborhood of Swanzey on the 28th of June, where they were joined by four more compa- nies from Plymouth colony. It was found that the Indians had pillaged and set fire to the village, and with their booty had retired to Mount Hope. A company of cavalry were sent, under the command of Captain Prentice, to reconnoitre them ; but before they arrived at a convenient place for this purpose they were ambup-hed and fired upon by the enemy, who killed six of their number and wounded ten. The report 44 INDIAN NAURAT1VE3. of their guns alarming the rennaining companies of the English, they hastened to the relief of the cavalry, who at this moment were completely surrounded by about six hundred Indians, between whom and the English a warm contest now ensued! The savages fought desperately, and more thu* - - aearly succeeded in overpowering the English ; but, ve. iuately for the latter, when nearly despairing of victory, a xresh com- pany of militia from Boston arrived, which, flanking the enemy on the right and left and exposing them to two fires, soon overpowered them and caused them to seek shelter in an ad- joining wood inaccessible to the English. The English had in this severe engagement forty-two killed, and seventy-three wounded, many of them mortally. The enemy's loss was supposed to be much greater. On the 30tli Major Savage, who by his excellency the governor had been appointed commander-in-chief of the com- bined English forces, arrived with an additional company of cavalry, who with the remaining companies the following day commenced their march for Mount Hope, the head quarters of Philip. On their way the English were affected with a scene truly distressing. The savages, not content with bath- mg their tomahawks in the blood of the defenceless inhabit- ants of Swanzey, had, it was discovered, in many instances detached their limbs from their mangled bodies and affixed them to poles which were extended in the air — among which were discovered the heads of several infant children; the whole of which, by order of Major Savage, were collected and buried. The English arrived at Mount Hope about sunset; but the enemy, having received information of their approach, had de- serted their wigwams and retired into a neighboring wood. Major Savage, to pursue the enemy with success, now divided his men into separate companies, which he ordered to march in different directions, stationing forty at Mount Hope. On the 4th of July the men under the command of Captains COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 45 the English, his moment ed Indians, low ensued. " ^^ iiearly •' mately /resh com- ; the enemy fires, soon • in an ad- Inglish had i^enty-three s loss was jUency the •f the corn- am pany of lowing day J quarters ted with a with bath- is inhabit- '■ instances nd affixed ong which dren; the collected i ; but the h, had de- ing wood, w divided to march ope. On Captains Church and Henchmen fell in with a body of the enemy to the number of two hundred, whom they attacked. The Eng- lish being but thirty-two in number, including officers, victory for a considerable length of time appeared much in favor of the savages ; but veiy fortunately for the former, being com- manded by bold and resolute officers, they defended them- selves in the most heroic manner until relieved by a company of cavalry under the command of Captain Prentice. The Indians, now in turn finding the fire of the English too warm for them, fled in every direction, leaving thirty of their num- ber dead and about sixty severely wounded on the field of action. The English in this engagement had seven killed and twenty-two wounded, five of whom survived the action but a few hours. This action, so far from daunting the bold and resolute Captain Church, seemed to inspire him with additional bra- very. Unwilling that any of the enemy should escape, he boldly led his men into an almost impenetrable forest, into which those who survived the action had fled. The In- dians, perceiving the English approaching, concealed them- selves from their view by lying flat on their bellies, in which situation they remained concealed until the English bad advanced within a few rods of them, when each, unperceived, fixing upon his man, discharged a shower oi arrows among them. This unexpected check threw the English into confu- sion, which the Indians perceiving, rushed furiously upon them with their knives and tomahawks, shouting horribly. The English, their cavalry being unable to afford them assistance, were now in a very disagreeable situation ; the trees being so very large as to render it difficult to use their firearms with any eflfect, and they were very soon so encompassed by the savages as to render almost every effort to defend themselves useless. Of sixty-four who entered the swamp but twenty- seven escaped, anion"" whom verv fortunatelv was their val- uable leader, Captain Church. INDIAN NARRATIVES. The English, finding that they could neither hring their enemies to action in open field nor engage them with any suc- cess in the foi'est in which they were lodged, returned home, with the exception of three companies who were stationed by Major Savage near the borders of a swamp, into which it was strongly suspected that Philip, with a number of his tribe, had fled. This swamp was two miles in length, and to the English inaccessible. Philip, who had been watching the motion of his enemies, perceiving the greater part of them marching oiF, conjectured that their object wa« to obtain a re- enforcement : impressed with this belief, he resolved to im- prove the first opportunity to escape, with a few chosen men, by water, which he with little difficulty effected the succeed- ing night, taking the advantage of a low tide. The enemy were soon after their escape discovered and pursued by the inhabitants of Rehoboth, accompanied by a party of the Mo- hegans, who had volunteered their services against Philip. The Rehoboth militia came up with the rear of the enemy about sunset, and killed twelve of them, without sustaining any loss on their part : night prevented their engaging the whole force of Philip ; but early the succeeding morning they continued the pursuit. The Indians had, however, fled with such precipitancy that it was found impossible to overtake them. They bent their course to the westward, exhorting the different tribes through which they passed to take up arms against the English. The United Colonies became now greatly alarmed at the hostile views and rapid strides of Philip. The general court was constantly in sitting, and endeavoring to plan means to cut him off before he should have an opportunity to corrupt the minds of too many of his countrymen. While the court was thus employed, information was re- ceived that Philip had arrived in the neighborhood of Brook- field, situated about sixty-five miles from Boston, and that a number of its inhabitants had been inhumanly butchered by COMMENX'EMKNl' OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 47 bring their atli any suc- jrned home, re stationed nto which it mber of his ngth, and to vatching the art of them obtain a re- ived to im- ;hosen men, he succeed- The enemy sued by the of the Mo- it Philip. ■ the enemy t sustaining tigaging the lorning they er, fled with to overtake 1, exhorting to take up ■raed at the sneral court n means to r to corrupt ion was re- d of Brook- and that a itchered by his adherents. Orders were immediately thereupon issued for the raising ten companies of foot and horse, to be de- spatched to the relief of tlie unfortunate inhabitants of Brook- field ; but before they could reach that place Philip and his party had entered the town and indiscriminately put to death almost every inhabitant which it contained; the few that escaped having taken the precaution, previous to the attack, to assemble together in one house, which they strongly forti- fied. This house was furiously attacked by the savages, and several times set on fire ; and the besieged were on the point of surrendering when Major Willard happily arrived to their relief. Between the English and the Indians a desperate engagement now ensued : the former, by the express command of their officers, gave no quarter, but in a very heroic man- ner rushed upon the savages with clubbed muskets. The action continued until near sunset, when the few Indians that remained alive sought shelter in the neighboring woods. In this engagement the English had twenty-two killed and sev- enty-five wounded. The enemy's loss was two hundred and seventeen killed, and between two and three hundred wound- ed, who, by way of retaliation for their barbarity exercised towards the defenceless inhabitants of Brookfield, were imme- diately put to death. The governor and council, on learning the fate of the un- fortunate inhabitants of Brookfield, despatched a reenforce- ment of three companies of cavalry to Major Willard, and ordered the like number to be sent him from Hartford, in Connecticut colony, with which he was directed to pursue Philip with fire and sword to whatever part of the country he should resort. It being discovered that a part of Philip's forces had fled to Hatfield, two companies of English, under command of Captain Lathrop and Captain Beers, were sent in pursuit of them, who, within about three miles of Hatfield, overtook and attacked them ; but the force of the English being greatly 4ft INDIAN NAKKATlVliS. I inferior to llmt of the enemy, H.e former were defeated mi ' t Ik to the main body, which '^'f'^^^'^r^'^ who had in the late engagement been detaehed l.om the.t who ''»""' ^ ^ Q ^^ 18,1, of September in- main body, to jom 1 h h . U" ^^^^ ir t:e:;:^>; -eltlVd'rLld .he .roop. u„der .he eot:rd of c/ptain Lathrop ; that they were -^"*;^ -^ nneioeetedly Burrounded by one thousand of the enemy, to Xm ley aU, exeept three who eseaped, feU a saenfioe. Sedefeltof Captain La.h,-op took plaee in ,^,e ne-ghbor- hood o Deerfield" for the defence of which there wa, an Enl«U garrison, which the Indian, were about to attaA llL Major Wilterd happily arrived, on the approach of whom the Indians tied. T>i,iii„>^ Tn- On the 10th of October following a party of Ph'hps In A^ suceesrfally assaulted the town of Springfield wh.eh t^pired »Iset firo to, killing aV«t forty o the mhab,^ .1 On the 14th they assaulted the town of Hatheld, a :t;h ^o ompals, under the command of Captain Mosety mL Appleton, were stationed The e-m? T"™;^. the alt«=k about two hours, when, finding the fire of the Eng- lilh too warm for them, they tied, leaving a number of thetr "■^hiufltTdiurl-lf closely pursued by a large and fomidlle body of fhe English, deemed it prudent to bend his eoute towaLs his old pUtce of residence, there to remam "-BuUhrcrm^^S-s of the United Colonies duly reflect infrthe deplorable situation of their defenceless brethren 1 "ho t the country, aware that •'-- -- ' ''" f, """^ teater "umber of their savage enemies rmbod.ed ban at fizz period, who, if suffered peaceably to retire mto any tmmcr pe , ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^1^^ ,p„„g winter quarters, migni pi uv I. luw t^ i„„ T)i,;i;n in . 1 ^^ tn ntfick the whole force under Fhilip m ::ni„r :!« ^o. ... purpose of which every ited and enemy, )m their tnber in- e enemy inder the shed and jnemy, to sacrifice, neighbor- 3 was an to attack jroach of liilip's In- 3ld, which he inhabit- latfield, ia «n Mosely J continued ►f the Eng- )er of their a large and >nt to bend 3 to remain duly reflect- !ss brethren then a much lied than at ) retire into na the spring ler Philip in wliioh everv COMMENCKMENT OF IlOSTlLlllKS WITH ^A^IVEfl. 49 Englishman capable of bearing arms was commiiii.hj.l, by proclaination of the governor, to hold himself in iciulitiess to march at the shortest notice. Tlie lOth of December was the day appointed by the commissioners on which the decisive blow was to be -.given. Six companies were immediately raised in IMassachusetts, consisting in the whole of five hun- dred and twenty-seven men, to the command of which were appointed Captains Mosely, Gardener, Davenport, Oliver, and Johnson. Five companies were raised in Connecticut, consisting of four hundred and fifty men, to the command of which were appointed Captains Siely, Mason, Gallop, Watt«, and Marshall. Two companies were likewise raised in Plym- outh, consisting of one hundred and fifty men, who were commanded by Captains Rice and Goram. Three major'* of the three respective divisions were also appointed ; to wit, Major Appleton, of Massachusetts ; Major Treat, of Connecti- cut ; and Major Bradford, of Plymouth. The whole force, consisting of eleven hundred and twenty-seven raeii, were commanded by Major General Winslow, late governor of the colonies. On the 7th of December the combined forces com- menced their march for the head quarters of the enemy. At this inclement season it was with the utmost difficulty that the troops were enabled to penetrate through a wild and pathless wood. On the morning of tlie 9th, having travelled all the preceding night, they arrived at the border of an ex- tensive swamp, in which, they were informed by their guides, tiie enemy were encamped to the number of four thousand. The English, after partaking of a little refreshment, formed for battle. Captain iNIosely and Cap ain Davenport led the van, and Major Appleton and Captain Oliver brought up the rear of the Massachusetts forcee.. General Winslow, with the Plymouth troops, formed the (•enfre. The Connecticut troops, under the command of their respective captains, to- gether with about three hundred of the Mohegan;-, command- ed by Oneco, the son of Uncus, broi.ght up the rear. I I::! 60 INDIAN NAllUATlVEa. : It was discovered by an Indian, sent for that pin-po30, that in the centre of the swamp the enemy had bnilt a very strong fort, of so wise constru<;tioii that it was witli ditlicnUy that more than one person eonUl enf.-r at one time. About 10 o'clock, A. M., the En- 60 INDIAN NARKAT1VE8. hi Wobnni, and indiscriminately put to death every inhabitant tlK'y contained, not sparing the infant at the breast. On the 9th they burned the house of a Mr. Earnes, near Concord, killed his wife and threw her body into the flames, and made captives of his children. On the 15th they took prisoner a young woman, sixteen years of age, who, by the family with whom she resided, had been placed on a hill in the neighbor- hood of their dwelling to watch the motions of the enemy. The account which the young woman gave of her capture and escape was as follows : " That on the morning of her capture, the family having been mformed that a party of Indians had tlie day previous been discovered in a neighboring wood, she, by their request, ascended a hill near the house to watch their motions, and alarm the family if seen approaching the house ; that about noon she discovered a number of them ascending the hill in great haste ; that she immediately thereupon at- tempted to evade them by retiring into a thicket ; but that the Indians, who it appeared had before observed her, found her after a few moments' search, and compelled her to accompany them to their settlement, about forty miles distant. It was here they gave her to understand she must remain and be- come their scpiaw, and dress and cook their victuals ; that she remained with them about three weeks, during which time they made several expeditions against the English, and re- turned with a great number of human scalps ; that on the night of the Cth of December they returned with six horses which they had stolen from the English, which having turned into a small enclosure, they set out on a new expedition ; that she viewed this as a favorable opportunity to escape, to etiect whicii she caught and mounted one of the horses, and, making use of a strip of bark as a bridle, penetrated a wild and pathless wood, and arrived at Concord at seven o'clock tlie morning succeeding, having travelled all the preceding night to evade the pursuit of the enemy." In like manner did one of the chihlren of Mr. Eames, of whose capture mention is COMMENCLMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 61 ZM. made in the preceding page, escape from the Indians. Al- though but ten years of age, he travelled sixty miles through an uninhabited wood, subsisting on acorns. On the 12th of December a party of Indians attacked and killed several of the inhabitants of liradford. Tlie governor of Massachusetts colony, for the protection of the defenceless inhabitants of the Merrimack, ordered the raising and equip- ping of four companies of cavalry ; to the command of which were appointed Captains Sill, Holyoke, Cutler, and Prentice. On the 23d the above troops proceeded for the borders of the Merrimack, and on the 26th fell in with a considerable body of the enemy, whom they engaged and completely de- feated. On the 4th of January, 1G79, Captain Prentice, detached from the main body, fell in with and engaged about one hundred of the enemy in the neighborhood of Amherst, whom he likewise defeated, but with considerable loss on his part. On the 6th a son of the brave Captain Holyoke, of Spring- field, receiving information that a number of the enemy in small bodies were skulking about in the woods bordering on that town, with twenty resolute young men marched out to attack them. Falling in with a considerable body of them, an engagement ensued, which, though severe, terminated at length in favor of the English. The Indians, being furnished with muskets, ,vere unwilling to give ground, and would probably have remained masters of the field had not the English received a r^enforcement which put them to flight. The loss of the Eng.ish in the engagement was five killed and nine wounded, and that of the enemy twenty-three killed, and between thirty and forty wounded. The savages were no longer confined to any particular tribe or place, but, in parties from fifty to three hundred, were scattered all over the thinly-inhabited parts of New England : a considerable body of them were yet in the neighborhood of Hadley, Decrfidd, and Northampton, where they were con- 6 1 6a INDIAN NAKUATIVKS. tlnuully cominiltiiif; tlicir wiinfon jurtH of Imrbiirity. Several of the inlmbitunts of llie towns uhove mentioned, duly reH(!et- l;ij5 on the danfjjer to wliieli they and their fantihcs were rsp. to «f't8 of savage barbarity, were not, in this instance, unwilling to COMMKXCKMKNT OF IIOSTILTTIES WITH NATIVES. 67 comply with the voluntary, although unnatural, request of the prisoner; as it appeared that he had, in presence of the Mo- hegans, exultingly boasted of having killed nineteen of the English with his gun since the commencement of the war, and after loading it for the twentieth, there being no more of the latter within reach, he levelled at a Mohegan, whom he killed ; which completing his number, he was willing to die by their hands. The Mohegans accordingly began to prepare for the tragical event. Forming themselves into a circle, admitting as many of the English as were disposed to witness their savage proceedings, the prisoner was placed in the cen- tre ; when one of the Mohegans, who, in the late engagement, had lost a son, with his knife cut off the prisoner's ears, then his nose, and then the fingers of each hand ; and after the lapse of a few moments dug out his eyes, and filled their sockets with hot embers. Although the few English present were overcome with a view of a scene so shocking to human- ity, yet the prisoner, so far from bewailing his fate, seemed to surpass his tormentors in expressions of joy. When near- ly exhausted with the loss of blood, and unable longer to stand, his executioner closed the tragic scene by beating out his brains with a tomahawk. The few Indians that now remained in the neighborhood of Plymouth colony, being in a state of starvation, surren- dered themselves prisoners to the P^nglish ; one of whom, being recognized as the person who had a few days previous inhumanly murdered the daughtqr of a Mr. Clarke, was, by order of the governor, publicly executed : the remainder were retained and treated as prisoners of war. By the assistance of one of the prisoners, who served as guide, twenty more of the enemy were, on the following day, surprised and taken prisoners by the English. The troops, under the command of Major Bradford and Captains Mosely and Brattle, on the 15th of Sentember sur- prised and took one hundred and fifty of the enemy prisoners 68 INDIAN NARRATIVES. I IP' In ill near Pautuxet, among whom was the squaw of the celebrated Philip ; and on the day following, learning that the enemy in considerable bodies were roving about in the woods near Dedham, Major Bradford despatched Captain Brattle with fifty men to attack them, who, the day following, fell in with and engaged about one hundred of them. As hatchets were the only weapons with which they were provided, they made but a feeble defence, and were soon overpowered by the Eng- lish, who took seventy-four of them prisoners, the remainder having fallen in the action. The loss of the English was two killed and five wounded. The above party was com- manded by a bloodthirsty sachem called Poraham, renowned for his bodily strength, which exceeded that of any of his countrymen ever met with. He bravely defended himself to the last : being wounded in the breast and unable to stand, he seized one of the soldiers while in the act of despatching him with the but of his gun, and by whom he would have been strangled had he not been fortunately rescued by one of his comrades. A general famine now prevailing among the enemy, in con- sequence of being deprived of an opportunity to plant their lands, numbers were daily compelled by hunger to surrender themselves prisoners to the English, among whom was a Nip- net sachem, accompanied by one hundred and eighty of his tribe. On the 12th of October Captain Church, with fifty soldiers and a few friendly Indians under his command, attacked and defeated a party of the enemy near Providence ; and on the day following, conducted by Indian guides, discovered a con- siderable body of the enemy encamped in a swamp near Pom- fret : a friendly Indian first espying them, commanded them to surrender ; but the enemy did not appear disposed to obey. Being sheltered by large trees, they first discharged their arrows among the English, and then, with a terrible yell, at- tacked tlieiQ with their long knives and tomahawks. The COMMENCEMENT OP HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 69 English, meeting with a much warmer reception than what they expected, gave ground ; but being rallied by their old and experienced commander. Captain Church, they rushed upon them with such impetuosity that the enemy were thrown into confusion and dislodged from their coverts. The action con- tinued about an hour and a quarter. The English had seven men killed and fourteen wounded; among the latter their brave commander, who received an arrow through his left arm. The loss of the enemy was thirty-two killed and be- tween sixty and seventy wounded. On the 20th information was forwarded the governor and council that the famous Philip, who had been for a long time skulking about in the woods near Mount Hope, much disheart- ened by the ill success of his counfymen, was, the morning preceding, discovered in a swamp near that place, attended by about ninety Seaconet Indians ; on which the brave Captain Church, with his little band of invincibles, was immediately despatched in pursuit of him. Captain Church was accom- panied, as usual, by a number of the Mohegans and a few friendly Seaconet Indians. On the 27th they arrived in the neighborhood of the swamp, near the border of which he stationed several of the Mohegans to intercept Philip in case he should attempt an escape therefrom. Captain Church, at the head of his little band, now with unconquerable resolu- tion plunged into the swamp, and, wading nearly to his waist in water, discovered and attacked the enemy. The Indians Mere nearly one hundred strong; but being unexpectedly at- tacked they made no resistance, but fled in every direction ; the inaccessible state of the swamp, however, prevented the English from pursuing them with success. Their dependence was now upon their friends stationed without; nor did it appear that those faithful fellows suffered so good an oppor- tunity to pass unimproved. The re[)ort of their muskets convinced Captain Church that they were doing their duty ; in confirmation of which, he was very soon after presented with the head of King Philip. i . i r V I. il3 70 INDIAN NARRATIVES. Philip, it appeared, in attempting to fly from his pursuers, was recognized by one of the English who had been stationed with the Mohegans to intercept him, and at whom he levelled his piece ; but the priming being unfortunately wet and pre- venting the discharge thereof, the cunning sachem would yet have escaped had not one of the brave sons of Uncus at this instant given him the contents of his musTset. The ball went directly thro"gh his heart; and thus fell, by the hands of a faithful Mohegan, the famous Philip, who was the projector and instigator of a war which not only proved the cause of his own destruction, but that of nearly all his triue, once the most numerous of any inhabiting New England. It was at this important instant that the English were made witnesses of a remarkable instance of savage custom. Oneco, on learning that Philip had fallen by the hand of one of his tribe, urged that, agreeable to their custom, he had an un- doubted right to the body, and a right to feast himself with a piece thereof; which the English not objecting to, he delib- erately drew his long knife from his girdle, and with it de- tached a piece of fit ih from the bleeding body of Philip of about one pound weight, which he broiled and ate, in the mean time declaring that " he had not for many moons eaten any thing with so good an appetite ! " The head of Philip was detached from his body and sent by Captain Church to Boston, to be presented to the governor and council as a val- uable trophy. The few hostile Indians that now remained within the United Colonies, conscious that, if so fortunate as to evade the vigilance of the English, they must soon fall victims to the prevailing famine, fled with '■ eir families far to the westward. The English were disposed rather to facilitate than prevent their flight. Having been for a number of years engaged in a destructive and bloody war with them, they were willing that the few that remained alive should escape to a country so far distant that there was no probability of their returning to COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 71 pursuers, stationed 5 levelled and pre- rould yet 15 at this ball went nds of a projector cause of once the ere made Oneco, 16 of his 1 an un- If with a he delib- th it de- Philip of te, in the )ns eaten of Philip ;!hurch to as a val- ithin the wade the as to the vestward. 1 prevent aged in a ling that ry so far iming to resume the bloody tomahawk. Impressed with this idea, and that the enemy were completely exterminated, they wei-e about to bury the hatchet and turn their attention to agi-iciil- tural pursuits, when, by an express, they were informed that the natives in the eastern part of the country. Province of Maine, had unprovokedly attacked and killed a considerable number of the English in that quarter. To quench the flame which appeared to be enkindling in the east, the governor despatched four companies of cavalry to the relief of the unfortunate inhabitants. The enemy, who were of the Kennebeck and Amoscoggin tribes, first attacked with unprecedented fury the defenceless inhabitants settled on Kennebeck River, the most of whom were destroyed or dispersed by them. On the 2d of November about seven hundred of the en- emy attacked with their accustomed fury, accompanied by their savage yells, the inhabitants of Newchewannick, an English settlement, situated a few miles from the mouth of the River Kennebeck. Before they had fully accomplishrt their hellish purpose they were surprised by the troops sent from Boston, between whom a most bloody engagement now ensued. The Indians, encouraged by their numbers, repelled the attack of the English in so heioic a manner that the lat- ter were very soon thrown into disorder and driven out of town, where they again formed, faced about, and in turn charged the enemy with unconquerable resolution. The con- test now became close and severe : the savages, with their terrific yells, dexterously hurled their tomahawks among the English ; while the latter, with as much dexterity, attacked and mowed them down with their cutlasses. Each were appar- ently determined on victory or death. The English at one moment, unable to withstjuid the impetuosity of the savages, would give ground ; at the next, the latter, hard pushed" by the cavalry, would fall back. Thus for the space of two hours did victory appear balancing between the two contending 72 INDIAN NAUUATIVKS. ■ parties. The field of action was covered witli the shiin, while the adjacent woods resounded with the shrieks and groans of the wounded. At this critical juncture the English, when on the very point of surrendering, were providentially preserved by a stratagem. In the heat of the action Major Bradford despatched a company of cavalry by a circuitous route to attack the enemy in the rear, which had the most happy etfect. The enemy, suspecting this company a reenforcement of the English, fled in every direction, leaving the English masters of the field. Thus, after two hours' hard fighting, did the English obtain a victory at the expense of the lives of more than half their number. Their killed and wounded amounted to ninety-nine. The loss of the enemy was not ascertained; it was, however, {j-'bably three times greater than that of the English. The day succeeding this bloody engagement a lieutenant witb twelve men was sent by the commander to the place of action to bury their dead ; when they were a few rods there- from unexpectedly attacked by about one hundred of the en- emy who had lain in ambush. The lieutenant ordered hia men to reserve their fire until they could discharge with the best effect upon the enemy, by whom they were soon sur- rounded and furiously attacked on all sides. The savages, yelling horribly, brandished their long knives in the air, yet crimsoned with the blood of their countrymen. The brave little band, however, remained firm and undaunted ; and as the savages approached them, each taking pipper aim, dis- charged with so good effect upon them that the Indians, amazed at the instantaneous destruction of so many of their comrades, fled in every direction. The English sustained no loss. On the 5th the enemy successfully attacked the inhabitants of the village of Casco, thirty of whom they killed, and made prisoners of the family of a Mr. Bracket, who on the 7th, in the following manner, made their escape. The Indians, on COMMENCEMENT OF n08TILlTlE8 WITH NATIVES. 78 their return to tlieir wigwams, learning that a detaeheil party of their brethren had attacked with success and phindered the viUage of Arowsicik, to enjoy a share of the spoil hastened to join them, leaving the prisoners in the care of two old men and three squaws. :Mr. Bracket, whose family consisted of himself, wife, three small childi-en, and a negro lad, viewed this as a favorable opi)ortunity to esca{)e ; to effect which, he requested the lad to attempt an escape by flight, which, being uncommonly active, he easily effected. The plan of Mr. Bracket had now its desired effect ; as the old men, pursuing the negro, left him and his family guarded only by the three squaws, whom, being intoxicated, he soon des-..lv.h..d, and re- turned the day succeeding with his family to Casco, where the negro lad had arrived some hours before. On the 15th the Indians attacked the dwelling house of a Captain Bonithon and Major Philips, situated on the east side of Casco River. They having seasonable notice of the hos- tile views of the enemy, the family of .he former, as a place cf greater safety, had resorted to the house of the latter a few moments previous to the attack. The savages first, com- municating fire to the house of Captain Bonithon, next pro- ceeded furiously to attack the dwelling of Major Philips, in which there were about twenty persons, by whom it was most gallantly defended. The enemy had their leader and a num- ber of tlieir party killed by the fire of the English. Despair- ing of taking the house by assault, they cviopted a new plan to communicate fire thereto. They procured a carriage, on which they erected a stage, in front of which was a barricade rendered bullet proof, and to which long poles were at- tached nearly twenty feet in length, to the ends of which were affixed every kind of combustible, such as birch rinds, straw, pitch, pine, &c. The Indians were sheltered by the barricade from the fire of the English while they approached the walls of the house with their carriage. The English were now on the eve of despairing, when fortunately one of the h t -i V s. I. L it, 74 iNDIAN NAUUATIVKS. wheels of the carriage, being brought in contact with a rock, was turned comj)letely round, which exposed the whole body of Indians to their fire. This unexpected opportunity was improved with the greatest advantage by the English, who with a few rounds soon dispersed the enemy with no incon- siderable loss. The day following the Indians attacked and set fire to the house of a Mr. Wakely, whom with his whole family they murdered. A company of English, apprised of their dan- gerous situation, marched to their relief, but arrived too late to aiford them assistance. They found the house reduced to ashes, among which they discovered the mangled bodies of the unfortunate family half consumed by fire. The savages, emboldened by their late success, on the 20th attacked a small English settlement on Piscataqua River, and succeeded in murdering a part and carrying away the remain- der of the inhabitants into captivity. As an instance of their wanton barbarity, it should be here mentioned, that, after tom- ahawking and scalping one of the unfortunate women of the above place, they bound to the dead body her little infant, in which situation it was the succeeding day discovered by the English, attempting to draw nourishment from its mother's breast. The governor and council of the United Colonies, conceiv- ing it their duty, if possible, to put a final stop to the ravages of the enemy in the east, and to prevent the further effusion of innocent blood, despatched Major Wallis and Major Brad- ford, with six companies under their command, to destroy, "root and branch," the common enemy. On the ' i of De- cember they arrived in the neighborhood of Kennebeck, near where they were informed the main body of the enemy were encamped. On the morning of the 3d they fell in with and attacked them. The enemy, who were about eight hundred strong, appeared disposed to maintain their ground. They fought with all the fury of savages, and even assailed the i conceiv- COMMENCEMENT OP HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 75 English from the tops of lofty trees whicli they ascended for the purpose. They were possessed of but few firearms, but hurled their tomahawks with inconceivable exactness, and checked the pi-ogress of the cavalry with long spears. Vic- tory for a long time remained doubtful. The ground, being covered with snow, greatly retarded the progress of the troops, who probably would have met with a defeat had not a fresh company of infantry arrived in time to change the fortune of the day. These having remained inactive as a body of reserve, the commander found himself under the necessity of calling for their aid. The enemy, disheartened at the unex- pected arrival of an additional number of the EngUsh, fled with precipitancy to the woods ; but very few of them, how- ever, escaped : more than two hundred of them remained dead upon the field of action, and doable that number mortally wounded. The loss of the English was twenty-five killed and forty-four wounded. This engagement, which proved a deci- sive one, was of the greatest importance to the English. The great and arduous work was now completed. The few re- maining Indians that inhabited the eastern country now ex- pressed a desire to bury the bloody hatchet and to make peace with the English. Their request was cheerfuUy complied with, and they continued ever after the faithful friends of the English. From this important period — which, bein^j the 5th day of December, 1679 — ought the peace and prosperity of the now flourishing states of New England to receive their date. It was at this period that her hardy sons quitted .he sanguine field and exchanged their implements of death for such as were better calculated for the cultivation and tillage of their farms. The forests with which they were encompassed no longer abounded with fierce and untutored savages. The Indian death song and war whoop was no longer heard. The greater part of the Indians that survived the many bloody engage- ments had sought peace and retirement far westward. The 76 INDIAN NARRATIVES. prisonciri which the English had captured were liberated upon condition of resorting to and remabiis^if with tiiem. They proved fiiithl'ul to their promise; ,hty took possession of the country bounding on the great laJies, and In jjossesaion of which their descendants remain to the present day — a de- scription of whose manners and customs will be found in the sncceeding chapter. We shall close this with a few remarks relative to the state, customs, and ludicrous opinions of the Indians in New Eng- land when first visited by our forefathers, and of their rapid depopulation since tljat period. We cannot even hazard a conjecture respecting the Indian population of New England at the time of its first settlement by the English. Captain Smith, in a voyage to this coast in 1614, supposed that on Massachusetts Island there were about three thousand Indians. All accounts agree that the sea coast and neighboring islands were thickly inhabited. Three years before the arrival of the Plymouth colony a very mortal sickness, supposed to have been the plague, or perhaps the yellow fever, raged with great violence among the Indians in the eastern parts of New England. Whole towns were depopulated. The living were not able to bury the dead ; and their bones were found lying above ground many years after. The Massachusetts Indians are said to have been reduced from thirty thousand to three hundred fighting men. In 1 633, the small pox swept off great num- bers of the Indians in Massachusetts. In 1763, on the Island of Nantucket, in the space of four months the Indians were reduced by a mortal sickness from three hundred and twenty to eighty-five souls. The hand of Providence is notable in these surprising instances of mortal- ity among the Indians to make room for the whites. Com- paratively few have perished by wars ; and the descendants of the few that were not driven to the westward by the English waste and moulder away and in a manner unaccountable dis- appear. COMMENCEMENT OF UOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 77 The number of Indians in the State of Conneeticut, in 1774, was one thousand three hundred and sixty-three ; but their number is now doubtless much lessened. The principal part of their population in this state is at Mohegan, in the county of New London. These are the descendants of the Mohe- gans, of wliom frequent mention is made in the foregoing pages as being very serviceable, under the command of Uncus, to the English, in their many engagements with the natives. The Mohegans have ever exhibited great reverence for the descendants of their royal sachem. After the death of Uncus, his body was conveyed, by his request, to Norwich, and there interred in |^e neighborhood of one of his forts. This spot was selected by him previous to his death ; and it was his dying request that the whole family of Uncus should be there buried — a request which has been strictly complied with by the Mohegans, who, although the distance is seven miles from their own burying ground, have deposited, and continue to deposit there, the descendants of their revered sachem. The number of Indians in Rhode Island, in 1783, was only five hundred and twenty-five. More than Imlf of these live in Charleston, in the county of Washington. In 1774 the number of Indians in Rhode Island was one thousand four hundred and eighty-two ; so that, in nine years, the decrease was nine hundred and fifty-seven. We have not been able to ascertain the exact state of the Indian population in Massa- chusetts and New Hampshire. In 1784 there was a tribe of ' about forty Indians at Norridgewalk, in the Province of Maine, with some few other scattering remains of tribes in other parts, and a number of t vns thinly inhabited round Cape Cod. When the English first arrived in America, the Indians had no time or places set apart for religious worship. The first settlers in New England were at great pains to introduce among them the habits of civilized life and to instruct them in the Christian religion. A few years' intercourse with the • 7* :-t1 t f4 t I.'. 78 INDIAN NARUATIVE8. liuliaiis induced them to establish Huvcrul good and natural regulations. The Rev. Mr. Elliot, of Roxbury, near Boston, who has been styled the great "Indian apostle," with rnueh labor learned the Natic dialect u the Indian languages. He pub- lished an Indian grammar, and preached in Indian to several tribes, and, in IG64, translated the Bible and several religious books into the Indian language. He relates several pertinent queries of the Indians respecting the Christian religion; among others, whether Jesus Christ, the Mediator, or Inter- preter, could understand prayer in the Indian language. If the father be bad and the child good, why should God, in the second commandment, be offended with the child ? * How the Indians came to differ so much from the English in the knowledge of God and Jesus Christ, since they all sprang from one father. Mr. Elliot was indefatigable in his labors, and travelled through all parts of Massachusetts and Plym- outh colonies as far as Cape Cod. The colony had such a veneration for him, that, in an act of the General Assembly relating to Indians, they express themselves thus : « By the advice of the said magistrates and of Mr. Elliot." Concerning the religion of the untaught natives of New England, who once held a plurality of deities, after the arri- val of the English they supposed there were only three, be- cause they saw people of three kinds of complexions ; viz^ English, negroes, and themselves. It was a notion pretty generally prevailing among them that it was not the same God made them who made us, but that they were created after the white people ; and it is prob- able they supposed theit God gained some special skill by seeing the white people made, and so made them better. For it is certain they looked upon themselves and their methods of living, which they say their God expressly prescribed for them, as vastly preferable to the white people and their methods. COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WJTfl NATIVES. 79 With regard to a future state of existence, many of them imagined that the chichuny, that is, tl»o shadow, or what sur- vived the body, would at death go southward, and in an un- known but curious place; would enjoy worn o kind of happi- ness, such as hunting, feasting, dancing, and the like. And what they supposed would contribute much to their happiness v/as, that they should there never be weary of those enter- tainments. The natives of New England believed not only a plurality of gods, who made and governed the several nations of the world, but they made deities of every thing they imagined to be great, powerful, beneficial, and hurtful to mankind : yet they conceived an almighty Being, whom they called Kich- tau, who at first, according to their tradition, made a man and woman out of stone; but upon some dislike destroyed them again, and then made another couple out of a tree, from whom descended all the nations of the earth ; but how they came to be scattered and dispersed into countries so remote from one another, they could not tell. They believed their supreme Grod to be a good Being, and paid a sort of acknowl- edgment to him for plenty, victory, and other benefits. The immortality of the soul was universally believed among them. When good men died they said their souls went to Kichtau, where they met with their friends and enjoyed all manner of pleasures. When the wicked died they went to Kichtau also, but were commanded to walk away, and so wander about in restless discontent and darkness forever. The natives of New England, in general, were quick of apprehension, and ingenious ; and, when pleased, nothing could exceed their courtesy and friendship. Gravity and eloquence distinguit^hed them in council, address and bravery in v.ar. They were not more easily provoked than the English ; but when once they had received an injury it was never forgotten. In anger they were not like the English, talkative and bois- terous, but sullen and revengeful. The men declined all I 80 INDIAN NARRATIVES. labor, and spent their time in hunting, fishing, shooting, and warlike exercises. They imposed all the drudgery upon their women, who gathered and brought home their wood, planted, dressed, and gathered their corn. When they travelled the women carried their children, packs, and provisions. The women submitted patiently to such treatment : this ungener- ous usage of their husbands they repaid with smiles and good humor. The clothing of the natives was the skins of wild beasts. The men threw a mantle of skins over them, and wor3 a small flap, which were termed Indian breeches. The women were much more modest : they wore a coat of skins, gir*: about their loins, which reached down to their hams, which they never put off in company. If the husband chose to dispose of his wife's beaver petticoat, she could not be persuaded to part with it until he had provided another of some sort. In the winter their blanket of skins, which hung loose in sum- mer, was tied or wrapped more closely about them. The old men in the severe seasons also wore a sort of trousers, made of skins and fastened to their girdles ; and on their feet they wore moccasons made of moose leather ; and their chiefs, or sachems, wore on their heads a cap decorated with feathers. Their houses, or wigwams, were at best but miserable cells. They were constructed generally like arbors, or small young trees bent and twisted together, and so curiously covered with mats or bark that they were tolerably dry and warm. The natives made their fires in the centre of the house ; and there was an opening at the top, which emitted the smoke. For the convenience of wood and water these huts were common- ly erected in groves, near some river, brook, or living spring ; when either failed, the family removed to another place. They lived in a poor, low manner ; their food was coarse and simple, without any kind of seasoning ; they had neither spice, salt, or bread. Their food was principally the entrails COMMENCEMENT OF HOSTILITIES WITH NATIVES. 81 of moose, deer, bears, and all kinds of wild beasts and fowls : of fish and snakes they were extremely fond. They had strong rftomaohs, and nothing came amiss. They had no set meals, but, like other wild creatures, ate when they were hun- gry and could iind any thing to satisfy the cravings of nature. They had but little food from the earth except what it spon- taneously produced. Indian corn, beans, and squashes were the only eatables for which the natives of New England labored. Their household furniture was of but small value. Their beds were composed of mats or skins. They had neither chairs nor stools; but commonly sat upon the gi und, with their elbows upon their knees. A few wooden and stone vessels and instruments served all the purposes of domestic life. Their knife was a sharp stone, shell, or kind of reed, which they sharpened in such a manner as to cut their hair, make their bows and arrows, &c. They made their axes of stone, which they shaped somewhat similar to our axes, but with the difference of theirs being made with a neck instead of an eye, and fastened with a with like a blacksmith's chisel. The manner of the courtship and marriage of the natives manifested the impurity of their morals. When a young Indian wished for marriage, he presented the girl with whom he was enamoured with bracelets, belts, and chains of wampum. If she received his presents they cohabited together for a time upon trial ; if they pleased each other they were joined in marriage ; tut if, after a few weeks, they werb not suited, the man, leaving his presents, quitted the girl and sought another mistress, and she another lover. In this manner they courted until two met who were agreeable to each other. The natives of New England, although ',aey consisted of a great number of different nations and clans, appear to have spoken radically the same language : from Piscataqua to Connecticut it was so neai'ly the same that the different tribes could converse tolerably together. The Mohegau, or Pequot, f'. 82 INDIAN NARRATIVES. language was essentially that of all the Indians in New Eng- land. The word Mohegan is a corruption of Muhhekaneew in the singular,, or of Muhhekaneek in the plural number. The Penobscots bordering on Nova Scotia, the Indians of St. Francis in Canada, the Delawares in Pennsylvania, the Shawanese on the Ohio, and the Chippewaus at the west- ward of Lake Huron, all now speak the same radical lan- guage. i ;s w Eng- ikaneew lumber, ians of nia, the e west- 3al Ian- WASHINGTON'S EXPEDITION IN 1753; AND DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADDOCK, BY THE INDIANS, IN 1755. In 1753 the French and Indians began to make inroads on our western frontiers along the Ohio. Governor Dinwid- die, of Virginia, was very desirous tc get a letter of remon- strance to their commander-in-chief. He had applied to sev- eral young gentlemen of his acquaintance ; but they were all so deficient in courage that they could not be prevailed on for love or money to venture out among the savages. Our beloved Washington, happening to hear of it, instantly waited on his excellency and offered his services, but not without being terribly afraid lest his want of a beard should go against him. However, the governor was so charmed with his mod- esty and manly air that he never asked him a syllable about his age ; but, after thanking him for " a noble youth," and insisting on his taking a glass of wine with him, slipped a commission into his hand. The next day, accompanied by an interpreter and a couple of servants, he set out on his expe- dition, which was, from start to pole, as disagreeable and dan- gerous as any thing Hercules himself could have wished. Soaking rains, chilling blasts, roaring floods, pathless woods, and mountains clad in snovli opposed his course, but opposed in vain. The glorious ambition to serve his country imparted an animation to his nerves which rendered him superior to ail difficulties. (83) -•<■•'■ n 84 INDTAN NARRATIVES,. Returning homewards lie was waylaid and shot at by a French Indian ; and though the copper-colored ruthan was not fifteen steps distant when he fired at. WASHINGTON'S EXPEDITION, ETC. 85 ft To aee three hundred young fellows, commanded by a smoothfaced boy, all unaccustomed to the terrors of war ; far from home and from all hopes of help; shut up in a dreary wilderness, and surrounded by four times their number of savage foes ; and yet, without sign of fear, without thoughf of surrender, preparing for mortal combat, — O, it was a noble sight! Scarcely since the days of Leonidas and his three hundred deathless Spartans had the sun beheld its equal. With hideous whoops and yells the enemy came on like a host of tigers. The woods, and rocks, and tall tree tops, as the Indians, climbing to the tops of the trees, poured down their bullets into the fort, were in one continued blaze and crash of firearms. Nor were our young warriors idle, but, animated by their gallant chief, plied their rifles w;. such suirit that their little fort represented a volcano in full blast, roaring and discharging thick sheets of liquid fire and of leaden deaths among their foes. For three glorious hours, salamander-like, enveloped in smoke and flame, they sustained the attack of the enemy's whole force, and laid two hundred of them dead on the spot. Discouraged by such desperate resistance, the French general, the Count de Villiers, sent in a flag to Wash- ington, extolling his gallantry to the skies, and offering him the most honorable terms. It was stipulated that Colonel Washington and his little band of heroes should march away with all the honors of war, and carry with them their military stores and baggage. In the spring of 1755 Washington, while busied in the highest military operations, was summoned to attend General Braddock, who, in the month of February, arrived at Alexan- dria with two thousand British troops. The Assembly of Virginia appointed eight hundred , r.tvinciala to join him. The object of this army was to ma- 'h through the country, by the way of Will's Creek, to Fort Du Quesne, now Pitts- burg, or Fort Pitt. As no person was so well acquainted with the frontier country as Washington, and none stood so 8 M ! 86 INDIAN NARRATIVES. high in military fame, it was thought he would be infinitely serviceable to General Braddock. At the request of the governor and council he cheerfully quitted his own command to act as volunteer aid-de-camp to that very imprudent and unfbrtunate general. The army, near three thousand strong, marched from Alexandria, and proceeded unmolested within a few miles of Fort Pitt. On the morning of the day in which they expected to arrive the provincial scouts discov- ered a large party of French and Indians lying in ambush. Washington, with his usual modesty, observed to General Braddock hat sort of enemy he had now to deal with — an enemy who would not, like the Europeans, come forward to a fair contest in the field, but. concealed behind rocKs and trees, carry on a deadly warfare wUh Jheir rifles. He concluded with begging that General Braddock woald grant him the honor to let him place himself at the head of the Virginia riflemen and fight them in their own way And it was gen- erally thought that our young hero and his eight hundred hearts of hickory woiVU^ very easily have beaten them too ; for they were not superior to the force which, wnth only three hundred, he had handled so roughly a twelvemonth before. But General Braddock, who had all along ti'eated the Ameri- can otBcers and soldiers with infinite contempt, instead of fol- lowing this truly salutary advice, swelled and reddened with most unmanly rage. " High times, bj G — d ! " he exclaimed, strutting to and fro, with arms akimbo. " High times, when a young buckskin can teach a British general how to fight ! " Washington withdrew, biting his lips with grief and indigna- tion to think what numbers of bfave fellows would draw short breath that day through the pride and obstinacy of one epau- letted fool. The troops were ordered to form and advance in columns through the woods. In a little time the ruin which Washington had predicted ensued. This poor, devoted army, pushed on by their madcap general, fell into tiie fatal snare which was laid for them. All at once a thousand rifles 1 ■Washington's expedition, etc. 87 began the work of death. The ground was instantly covered with the dying and the dead. The British troops, thus slaugh- tered by hundreds, and by an enemy whom they could not see, were thrown irrecoverably into panic and confusion ; and in a few minutes their haughty general, with twelve hundred of his brave but unfortunate countrymen, bit the ground. Poor Braddock closed the tragedy with great decency. He was mortally wounded in the beginning of the action, and Washington had him placed in a cart ready for retreat. Close on the left, where the weight of the French and Indian fire principally fell, Washington and his Virginia riflemen, dressed in blue, sustained the shock. At every discharge of their rifles the wounded general cried out, " O my brave -Virginia blues, would to God I could live to reward you for such gallantry ! " But he died. Washington buried him in the road, and, to save him from discovery and the scalping knife, ordered the wagons on their retreat to drive over his grave. O God, what is man ? Even a thing of nought. Amidst all this fearful consternation and carnage, amidst all the uproar and horrors of a rout, rendered still more dreadful by the groans of the dying, the screams of the wounded, the piercing shri(?ks of the women, and the yells of the furious assaulting savages, Washington, calm and self- collected, rallied his faithful riflemen, led them on to the charge, killed numbers of the enemy who were rushing on with tomahawks, checked their pursuit, and brought otF the shattered remains of the British army. With respect to our beloved Washington we cannot but mention here two very extraordinary speeches that were ut- tered about him at this time, and which, as things have turned out, look a good deal like prophecies. A famous Indian war- rior, who assisted in the defeat of Braddock, was often heard to swear that Washington was not born to be killed by a bullet ; " for," continued he, '- 1 had seventeen fair fires at him with my rifle ; and, after all, I could not bring him to the I! 8a INDIAN NARUATIVEB. ground." And indeed, whoever considers that a good rifle, levelled by a proper inarksuiun, hardly ever misses its aim, will readily enough conclude, with this unlettered savage, that Borae invisible hand must have turned aside his bullets. The Rev. Mr. Davies, in i sermon occasioned by General Braddock's defeat, has these remarkable words : " I beg leave to point the attention of the public to that heioic youth. Col- onel George Washington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has preserved for some great service to this country." .. 'I. ll EXPEDITION AND DEFEAT OF GENERAL HARMER BY THE INDIANS, 1790. ill Although a peace was happily effected between the two contending parties, Great Britain and America, in 1783, yet the savages, who had been persuaded to take a part witli the former, were unwilling to bury the bloody hatchet. They had not sufficiently bathed that destructive weapon in the blood of the Americans. Without any pretext whatever, they continued to exercise towards them the most wanton acts of barbarity. It appeared from respectable evidence that from the year 1783 until the month of October, 1790, the time the United States commenced offensive operations against the said Indians, that on the Ohio and the frontiers on the south side thereof, they killed, wounded, and took prisoners about one thousand five hundred men, women, and children, besides car- rying off upwards of two thousand horses and other property to the amount of fifty thousand dollars. The particulars of many of the instances of barbarity ex- ercised upon the prisoners of different ages and sexes, al- though supported by indisputable evidence, are of too shocking a nature to be presented to the public. It is sufficient here to observe that the scalping knife and tomahawk were the mildest instruments of death ; that in some cases torture by fire and other execrable means were used. But the outrages which were committed upon the frontier inhabitants were not the only injuries that were sustained. Repeated attacks upon detachments of the troops of the Unit- ed iStiates were at different times made. The following, from y * (80) r-* 4 if 90 INDIAN NAKKATIVKS. its peculiar enormity, deserves recital: In April, 1790, Major Doughty, in .service of the United States, was ordered to the friendly Chicasaws on public business. He performed this duty in a boat, having with him a party of fifteen men. While ascending the Tennessee River he was met by a party of forty Indians in four canoes, consisting principally of Shawanese and outcast Cherokees. They approached under a white flag, the well-known emblem of peace. They came on board the major's boat, received his presents, continued with him nearly an hour, and then departed in the most friendly manner. i3ut they had scarcely cleared his oars be- fore they poured in a fire upon his crew, which was returned as soon as circumstances would permit, and a most unequal combat was sustained for several hours, when they abandoned their design, but not until they had killed and wounded eleven out of fifteen of the boat's crew. All overtures of peace failing, and the depredations still continuing, an attempt at coercion became indispensable. Accordingly, on the 30th of September, 1790, the president, by and with the consent and advice of the Congress of the United States, despatched General Harmer, with three hun- dred and twenty federal troops and eleven hundred and thirty- three militia under his command, to attack and destroy their principal villages. The troops, after seventeen days' march from Miami, reached the great Miami village without any other molesta- tion than that of having a number of their packhorses stolen. On their arrival they found the village deserted, and all the valuable buildings in flames, set on tire by the Indians. After a short tarry they proceeded to the neighboring villages with- out molestation and destroyed five of them and a large quan- tity of corn, computed at fifteen thousand bushels, which they found buried in difl'erent places, and very large quantities of vegetables of every kind. The first opposition that was met with, a party of about one EXPEDITION AND DKFEAT OP OEN. HAllMKR. 91 hundred and fifty Kentucky militia and thirty rcguhir troops, all under the command of Colonel Hartilng, of Kentucky, were detached from the main hody lying in the great Miami village, to pursue the trail of a party of Indians which had the day before been discover. . After a pursuit of about six milea they (uime up with and were attacked on surprise by a body of Indiana who were concealed in the thickets on every side of a large plain ; and on the first onset the militia, with- out exchanging a single shot, made a most precipitate retreat, and left the regular troops to stand the whole charge of the Indians. The conflict was short and bloody ; the troops were soon overpowered by numbers ; and all fell, except two offi- cers and two or three privates, after defending themselves at their bayonet points with the greatest possible obstinacy. Ensign Hartshorn was one of the officers who providentially escaped ; and his escape appeared to depend more on a lucky circumstance of faltermg over a log in his retreat, and by that means screening himself from the eye of his pursuers, than from any other circumstance. Captain Armstrong, who com- manded the party, likewise made his escape by plunging him- self into a pond, or swamp, up to his neck, within two hundred yards of the field of action, where he remained the whole night a spectator to the horrid scene of the war dance performed over the dead and wounded bodies of the poor soldiers that had fallen the preceding day ; where their shrieks, mixed with the horrid yells of the savages, rendered his situation shocking. After this some few skirmishes succeeded, but nothin" ma- terial until the second capital action, which happened two days after the array left the Miami village. At ten miles' distance from the town the general ordered a halt, and de- tached from four to five hundred militia and about sixty reg- ular soldiers, under the command of Major Wyllys and Colo- nel Harding, who were ordered to march back to the town. On their first entrance there appeared a small body of In- . ., si,j. i.iiuicuiaieij' iic\i ai iiic iiiDi Oiisci, uiiu uv tnat i 41 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /> v] <^ /. 'm m ^M " J^* Ji W.o>/ ^^ W o ^&. "^ / 1.0 %^ I.I t Hi 1.25 Photographic Sciences Corporation IIM 1.8 1.4 II 1.6 # 4 \ \\ 1* ;\ ^%^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. U580 (716) 8724;.03 ^ 9a INDIAN NARRATIVES. means decoyed the whole body of the militia, by making their flight in different directions and encouraging the militia to pursue. By this stratagem the few regular troops were left alone, and the Indians had effected their design.; for, the mo- ment they found the small handful of regular troops detached from the main body of the militia, they commenced the attack with their whole force, excepting the flying parties that had divided the militia; and although they soon found some part of the mihtia returning on their backs, pursued their object of routing and destroying the troops as the only sure plan of success, which, after a most bloody conflict on each side, they effected. Nothing could exceed the intrepidity of the savages on this occasion. The militia they appeared to despise, and, with all the undauntedness conceivable, threw down their guns and rushed upon the bayonets of the regular soldiers. A number of them fell, but being so far superior in numbers the regu- lars were soon overpowered ; for, while the poor soldier had his bayonet in one Indian, two more would sink their toma- hawks in his head. The defeat of the troops was complete ; the dead and wounded were left on the field of action in pos- session of the savages. The following is a copy of the official return of the killed and wounded in the expedition : — Killed of the Federal Troops. 1 major, 1 lieutenant, 73 rank and file ; total, 75. Wound- ed, 3 rank and file. Killed of the Militia. 1 major, 3 captains, 2 lieutenants, 4 ensigns, 98 rank and file; total, 180. Wounded, 2 lieutenants, 1 ensign, 25 rank and file ; total, 28. The regular troops, all but nine, including two commissioned EXPEDITION AND DEFEAT OP GEN. HABMER. 93 officers, were killed. Among the slain was Major Wyllys and a number of brave and valuable soldiers. The Indians, it appeared from some cause, did not think it prudent to pur- sue their successes from the field of action ; as most of the troops that were not killed or badly wounded made their escape, which they could not have effected had the enemy pursued with their usual fury. %. II ' EXPEDITIONS OF GENERALS SCOTT AND WIL- KINSON, IN MAY AND AUGUST, 1791. GENERAL SCOTT TO THE SECRETARY OP WAR. Sir, — la prosecution of the' enterprise, I marched with eight hundred and fifty troops under my command, four miles from the banks of the Ohio, on the 23d of May; and on the ^4th I resumed my march and pushed forward with the ut- most mdustry, directing my route to Ouiattannan in the best manner my guides and information enabled me, thou-h I found myself greatly deficient in both. By the 31st I had marched one hundred and thirty-five miles over a country cut by four large branches of White River, and many smaller streams with steep, muddy banks During this march I traversed a country alternately inter- spersed with the most luxurious soil and deep clayey bogs from one to five miles wide, rendered almost impervious by brush and briers. Rain fell in torre ts every day, with fre- quent blasts of wind and thunder storms. These obstacles impeded my progress, wore down my horses, and destroyed my provisions. On the morning of the 1st instant, as the army entered an extensive prairie, I perceived an Indian on horseback a few miles to the right. I immediately made a detachment to intercept him ; but he escaped. Finding myself discovered I determined to advance with all the rapidity my circumstances would permit, rather with the hope than the expectation of reaching the object sought that day; for my guides were (94) EXPEDITIONS OF OENERALS SCOTT AND WILKINSON. 95 Strangers to the country which I occupied. At one o'clock, having marched by computation one hundred and fifty-five miles from the Ohio, as I penetrated a grove which bordered on an extensive prairie, I discovered two small villages to my left, at two and four miles' distance. My guides now recognized the ground, and informed me that the main town was four or five miles in front, be- hind a point of wood which jutted into the prairie. I imme- diately detached Colonel John Hardin with sixty mounted infantry, and a troop of light horse under Captain M'Coy, to attack the villages to the left, and moved on briskly with my main body in order of battle towards the town, the smoke of which was discernible. My guides were deceived with respect to the situation of the town ; for, in^ oad of standing at the edge of the plain through which I marched, I found in the low ground bordering on the Wabash, on turning the point of woods, one house presented in my front. Captain Price was ordered to assault that with forty men. He ex- ecuted the command with great gallantry, and killed two warriors. When I gained the summit of the eminence which over- looks the villages on the banks of the Wabash, I discovered the enemy in great confusion, endeavoring to make their es- cape over the river in canoes. I instantly ordered Lieutenant Colonel Commandant Wilkinson to rush forward with the first battalion. The order was executed with promptitude, and this detachment gained the bank of the river just as the rear of the enemy had embarked ; and, regardless of a brisk fire kept up from a Kickapoo town on the opposite bank, they in a few minutes, by a well-directed fire from their rifies, de- stroyed all the savages with which five canoes were crowded. The enemy still kept possession of the Kickapoo town. I determined to dislodge them, and for the purpose ordered Captains King's and Logsdon's companies to march down the river below the town and cross, under the conduct of fit M INDIAN NARRATIVES. Major Barbee. Several of the men swam the river, and others passed in a small canoe. This movement was unob- served, and my men had taken post on the bank before they were discovered by the enemy, who immediately abandoned the vilhige. About this time word was brought me that Colo- nel Hardin was encumbered with prisoners, and had diacov- ered a stronger village, farther to my left, than those I had observed, which he was proceeding to attack. I immediately detaclied Captain Brown, with his company, to support the colonel ; but the distance being six miles, before the captain arrived the business was done, and Colonel Hnrdin joined me little before sunset, having killed six warriors and taken fifty- two prisoners. Captain Bull, the warrior who discovered me in the moraing, had gained the main town and given the alarm a short time before me ; but the villages to the left were uninformed of my approach, and had no retreat. The next morning I determined to detach my lieutenant colonel com- mandant with five hundred men to destroy the important town of Kethlipecanunk, at the mouth of the Eel River, eighteen miles from my camp, and on the west side of Wabash. But on examination I discovered my men and horses to be crippled and worn down by a long, laborious march, and the active exertions of the preceding day ; that three hundred and sixty men only could be found in capacity to undertake the enter- prise, and they prepared to march on foot. Colonel Wilkinson marched with this detachment at half past five in the evening, and returned to my camp the next day at one o'clock, having marched thirty-six miles in twelve hours, and destroyed the most important settlement of the enemy in that quarter of the federal territory. The following is Colonel Wilkinson's report respecting the enterpi'ise : . — Sir, — The detachment under my command, destined to attack the village Kethlipecanunk, was put in motion at half KXl-KDITION'S OP GENEUAL8 SCOTT AND WILKINSON. 97 past five o'clock lu.st ev«)nin;r. Knowing that an enemy, whose chief dependenco is in his dexterity as a marksman, and alertness in coverwig himself behind trees, stumps, and other impediments to fair sight, would not hazard an action in the night, I determined to push my march until I approached the vicinity of the villages where I knew the country to be cham- paign. I gained my point without a halt twenty minutes be- fore eleven o'clock, lay upon my arms until four o'clock, and half an hour after assaulted the town at all quarters. The enemy was vigilant, gave way on my approach, and in canoes crossed Eel Creek, which washed the north-east part of the town ; that creek was not fordable. My corps dashed forward with the impetuosity becoming volunteers, and were saluted by the enemy witli a brisk fire from the opposite side of the creek. Dauntless they rushed on to the water's edge, and, finding the river impassable, returned a volley which so galled and disconcerted their antagonists that they threw away their fire without effect. In five minutes the Indians were driven from their covering and fled with precipitation. I have three men slightly wounded. At half past five the town was ia flames, and at six o'clock I commenced my retreat. I am, sir, yours, &c., James "Wilkinson. Brigadier General Scott. »».'. liy-' Many of the inhabitants of Kethlipecanunk were French, and lived in a state of civilization. Misunderstanding the object of a white flag, which appeared on an eminence oppo- site to me in the afternoon of the first, I liberated an aged squaw, and sent with her a message to the savages, that, if they would come in and surrender, their towns should be spared and they should receive good treatment. It was afterwards found that this white flag was not intended as a signal of par- ley, but was placed there to mark the spot where a person of distinction among the Indians, who had died some time before. 9 1" ' s 98 INDIAN XAIIUATIVKS. was interred. On the 4th I determined to discharge sixteen of the weakest and most infirm of my prisoners with a talk to the Wabash tribes, a copy of which follows. My motives to this measure were, to rid the army of a heavy encumbrance, to gratify the impulses of humanity, to increase the panic my operations had produced, and, by distracting the council of the enemy, to favor the views of government. On the same day, after leaving burned the towns and ad- jacent villages and destroyed the growing corn and pulse, I began my march for the rapids of Ohio, where I arrived the 14th, without the loss of a single man by the enemy, and five only wounded, having killed thirty-two, chiefly warriors of size and figure, and taken fifty-eight prisoners. To the various Tribes of the Peankashaws and all the Nations of Red People living on the Waters of the Wabash River. The sovereign council of the thirteen United States, hav- ing long patiently borne your depredations against their set- tlements on this side of the great mountains, in hopes that you would see your error and correct it, by entering into bonds of amity and lasting peace, moved by compassioii, and pitying your misguided councils, have not unfrequent- ly addressed you on this subject, but without effect. At length their patience is exhausted, and they have stretched forth the arm of power against you. Their mighty sons and chief warriors have at length taken up the hatchet ; they have penetrated far into your country, to meet your warriors and punish them for their transgressions. But you fled before them and decline the battle, leaving your wives and children io their mercy. They have destroyed your old town, Ouiat- tanau, and the neighboring villages, and have taken many prisoners. Resting here two days, to give you time to collect EXPEDITIONS OF GENERALS SCOTT AND WILKINSON. 99 J t your strength, they have proceeded to your town of Kethli- pecanunk; but you again fled before them; and that great town has been destroyed. After giving you this evidence of their power they have stopped their hands, because they are as merciful as strong ; and they again indulge the hope that you will come to a sense of your true interest, and determine to make a lasting peace with them and all their children for- ever. The United States have no desire to destroy the red people, although they have the power to do it; but should you decline this invitation and pursue your unprovoked hos- tilities, their strength will again be exerted against you, your warriors will be slaughtered, your wives and children carried into captivity ; and you may be assured that those who escape the fury of our mighty chiefs shall find no resting-place on this side the great lakes. The warriors of the United States wish not to distress or destroy women and children or old men ; and although policy obliges them to retain some in cap- tivity, yet compassion and humanity have induced them to set others at liberty, who will deliver you this talk. Those who are carried off will be left in the care of our great chief and warrior General St. Clair, near the mouth of the Miami and opposite to the Licking River, where they will be treated with humanity and tenderness. If you wish to recover them, repair to that place by the first day of July next. Determine with true hearts to bury the hatchet and smoke the pipe of peace : they will then be restored to you, and you may again set down in security at your old towns, and live in peace'and happiness, unmolested by the people of the United States, who will become your friends and protectors, and will be ready to furnish you with all the necessaries you may require. But should you foolishly persist in your warfare, the sons of war will be let loose against you, and the hatchet will never be buried until your country is desolated and your people humbled to the dust. (Signed) Chables Scott, Briff. Gen. ^ Rffl X\ / \ i BIBLIOTHECA %-.,^ Mav 3ns\'='..^-i^- ^/ GENERAL WILKINSON'S EXPEDITION. GENERAL WILKINSON TO GOVERNOR ST. CLAIR. " Sir, — Having carried into complete effect the enterprise which you were pleased to direct against L'Anguille, and having done the savages every other damage on the Wabash to which I conceived my force adequate, I embrace the first moment^s recess from active duty to detail to your excellency the operations of the expedition intrusted to my command. I left the neighborhood of Fort "Washington on the Ist instant at one o'clock, and, agreeably to my original plan, feinted boldly at the Miami villages by the most direct course the nature of the ground over which I had to march would permit. I persevered in this plan until the morning of the 4th instant, and thereby avoided the hunting ground of the enemy and the paths which led direct from White River to the Wabash, leaving the head waters of the first to my left. I then, being about seventy miles advanced of Fort Wash- ington, turned north-west. I made no discovery until the 5th, about nine o'clock, A. M., when I crossed three much fre- quented paths within two miles of each other, and all bearing east of north. My guides were urgent for me to follow these paths, which betrayed their ignorance of the country, and convinced me I had to depend on my own judgment only. In the afternoon of that day I was obliged to cross a deep bog, which injured several of my horses exceedingly, and a few miles beyond I struck a path, bearing north by west^ marked by the recent footsteps of five or six savages. My (100) S ' ^' a ^JfelJj^ i Mi'ifl i mi i l i OT »h:nkiul V'ilkinson's kxi-kdithin. 101 i guides renewed their application to me to follow this path; but I pursued my own cour.^e. 1 hud not got dear of my encampment next morning before my advance reported an impassable bog in my front, extending several miles on either hand ; and the guides asserted that the whole country to the Wabash was cut by such bogs, and that it would be impossi- ble for me to proceed unless I followed the Indian paths, which avoided these bogs, or led through them at places where they were least difficult. Although I had little regard to this inibrmation, as delay was dangerous, and every thing depend- ed on the preservation of my horses, I determined to return to the right and fall into the path I had passed the evening before, which varied in its course from north by west to north- east. The country had now become pondy in every direc- tion. I therefore resolved to pursue this path until noon, in the hope that it would conduct me to better ground, or to eome devious trace, which might lead to the object sought. At seven o'clock I crossed an east branch of the Calumet River about forty yards wide, and about noon my advance guard fired on a small party of warriors and took a prisoner ; the rest ran off to the eastward. I halted about a mile be- yond the spot where this affair happened, and, on examining the prisoner, found him to be a Delaware, living near the site of the late Miami village, which, he informed, was about thirty miles distant. I immediately retrograded four miles, and filed off by -the right over some rising ground, which I had observed between the east branch of the Calumet River and a creek four or five miles in advance of it, taking my course north, sixty degrees west. This measure fortunately extri- cated me from the bogs Jind ponds, and soon placed me on firm ground. Late in the afternoon I crossed one path run. ning from north to south, and shortly after fell in with anoth- er varying from north-west to north. I pursued this about two miles, when I encamped ; but, finding it still inclining northward, I determined to abandon it in the morninf^. I 9* " ll I ./J 102 INDIAN NAIIKATIVES. I l!i Id resinned my march ..ii the Gtli nt four o'clock. Tho Calumet beiiij,' to il.c wcMtWiinl of me, I wns fearful I shoul.l strike tU" W.iha>li too hifrl, up, and, perhaps, fall in with the email town, which yon mentioned to me, at the mouth of the former river. I therefore steered a due west course, and at six o'clock A. M. crossed a road much used both by horse and foot, bcarinj? due north. I now knew that I was near a Shawanese village, goncrally supposed to be on the waters of White River, but actually on the waters of the Calumet, and was sensible that every thing depended on the celerity and silence of my movenients, as my real object had become manifest. T therefore pushed my march vigorously, leaving an officer and twenty men in ambush to watch the /oad, in order to intercept or beat off any party of the enemy which might casually be passing that way, and thereby prevent, as long as possible, the discovery of my real intentions. At eight o'clock I crossed Calumet River, now eighty yards wide, and running down north north-west. I was now sensi- ble from my reckoning, compared with my own observations during the late expedition under General Scott and the in- formation received from your excellency and others, that I could not be very far from L'Anguille. The party left at the road soon fell in with four warriors encamped half a mile from the right of my line of march, Mlled one, and drove off the others to the northward. My situation had now become extremely critical ; the whole country to the north being in alarm, which made me greatly anxious to continue my march during the night : but I had no path to direct me, and it was impossible for me to keep my course, or for horsemen to march through a thick, swampy country in utter darkness. I quitted my camp on the 7th as soon as I could see my way ; crossed one path at three miles' distance, bearing north-east; and at seven miles fell into another very much used, bearino- north-west by north, which I at once adopted as the direct route to my object, and pushed forward with the utmost despatch. I cJKNKRAL Wilkinson's kxpkdition. 103 halted at twelve o'clock to refresh the horses ond examine the men'H arms and ammunition, marched a;,'ain ot half past one, and at fifteen minutes hefore Hve struck the Wabash at one and a half leagues above the mouth of Eel River, being the very spot for which I had aimed from the com- mencement of my march. I crossed the river, and, following the path a north by east course, at the distance of two and a half miles my reconnoitring party aimounced Eel River in front and the town on the opposite bank. I dismountetl, ran forward, and examined the situation of tho town as far as was practicable without exposing myself; but the whole face of the country, from the Wabash to the margin of Eel River, being a continued thicket of brambles, blockjacks, weeds, and shrubs of various kinds, it was impossible for me to get a satisfactory view without endangering a discovery. I imme- diately determined to post two companies near the bank of the river opposite to the town and above the ground I then occupied, to make a detour with Major Caldwell and the second battalion until I fell into the Miami trace, and by that route to cross the river above and gain the rear of the town, and to leave directions with Major M'Dowell, who commanded the first battalion, to lie perdu until I commenced tho attack ; then to dash through the river with his corps and the ad- vanced guard and assault the house in front and upon the left. In the moment I was about to put this arrangement into execution, word was brought me that the enemy had taken the alarm and were flying, I instantly ordered a gen(M-al charge, which was obeyed with alacrity : the men, forcing their way over every obstacle, plunged throuqii the river with vast intrepidity. The enemy was unable to make the smallest re- sistance. Six warriors, and, in the hurry and confusion of the charge, two squaws and a child, were killed ; thirty-four prisoners were taken, and an unfortunate captive released; with the loss of two men killed and one wounded. I found this town scattered along Eel River for full three miles, bu h m 3 i' I IH INDIAN NARRATIVE?. ail uneven, shrubby, oak barren, intersected alternately by bogs almost impassable and impervious thickets of plum and hazel. Notwithstanding these difficulties, if I may credit the report of the prisoners, very few who were in town es- caped : expecting a second expedition, their goods were gen- erally packed up or buried. Sixty warriors had crossed the Wabash to watch the paths leading from the Ohio. The head chief, with all the prisoners and a number of families, was out digging a root, which they substitute in the place of the potato : and about one hour before my arrival all the Trarriors except eight had mounted their horses and rode up the river to a French store to purchase ammunition. This ammunition had arrived from the Miami viUase that very day, and the squaws informed me was stored about two miles from town. I detached Major Caldwell in quest of it ; but he failed to make any discovery, although he scoured the coun- try for seven or eight miles up the river. I encamped in the town thut night, and the next mornir- I cut up the corn scarcely in the milk, burned the cabins, mounted my young warriors, squaws, and children in the best manner in ray pow- er, and, leaving two infirm squaws and d child with a short talk, (which will be found annexed,) I commenced my march for the Kickapoo town in the prairie. I felt my prisoners a vast encumbrance ; but I was not in force to justify a detach- ment, having barely five hundred and twenty-thrse rank and file, and being then in the bosom of the Ouiattanau country, one hundred and eighty miles reproved from succor, and not more than one and a half days' forced march from the Patta- wamees, Shawanese, and Delawares. Not being able to discover any path in the direct course to the Kickapoo town, 1 marched by the road leading to Tippe- canoe, in the hope of findincj some diverting trace which might favor my design. I encamped that evening about six miles from Kenapacomaque, the Indian name for the town I had destroyed, and marched the next morning at four o'clock, (JENEHAL AVILKINSON's EXPEDITION. 105 My coui-rie continued west till about nine o'clock, when I turned to the north-west on a small hunting path, and at a short distance launched into the boundless prairies of the west, with the intention to pursue that course until I should strike a road which leads from the Pattawamees of Lake Michigan immediately to the town I sought. With this view I pushed forward th' ough bog after bog, to the saddle skirts, in mud and water, and after persevering for eight hours I found myself environed on all sides with moi'asses which for- bade my advancing, and at the same time rendered it difficult for me to extricate my little army. The way by which we had entered was so much beat and softened by the horses that it was almost impossible to return by that route, and my guides pronounced the inorass in front impassable. A chain of thin groves extending in the direction to the Wabash at this time presented to my left ; it was necessary I should gain these groves, and for this purpose I dismounted, went forward, and, leading my horse through a bog to the armpits in mud and water, with difficulty and fatigue I accomplished my object, and, changing my course to south by west, regained the Tip- pecanoe road at five o'clock, and encamped on it at seven o'clock, after a march of thirty miles, which broke down sev- eral of my hordes. I am the more minute in detailing the occurrences of this d-^y, jBcause they produced the most unfavorable effect. I a; in moiion a* four next morning ; and at eight o'clock my aavanced guard made some discoveries, which induced me to believe we were near an Indian village. I immediately pushed that body forward in a trot, and followed with Major Caldwell and the second battalion, leaving Major M'Dowell to take charge of the prisoners. I reached Tippecanoe at twelve o'clock, which had been occupied by the enemy, who watched my motions and abandoned the place that morning. After the destruction of this town in June last, the enemy had returned and cultivated their corn and pulse, which I found m til m : i 106 INDIAN NARRATIVES. in high perfection and in much greater quantity than at L'Anguille. To refresh my horses and give time to cut down the corn, I determined to halt until the next morning, and then resume my raarcli to the Kickapoo town in the prairie by the road which leads from Ouiattanau to that place. In the course of the day I had discovered some raurmurings and discontent among the men, which I found, on inquiry, to pro- ceed from their reluctance to advance into the enemy's coun- try. This induced me to call for a state of the horses and provisions, when to my great mortification two hundred and seventy horses were returned lame and tired, with barely five days' provision for the men. Under these circumstances I was compelled to abandon my designs upon the Kickapoos of the prairie ; and, with a de^ee of anguish not to be comprehended but by those who have experienced similar disappointments, I marched forward to a town of the same nation, situate about three leagues west of Ouiattanau. As I advanced to the town the enemy made some show of fighting me, but vanished at my approach. I destroyed this town, consisting of thirty houses, with a con- siderable quantity of corn in the milk ; and the same day I moved on to Ouiattanau, where I forded the Wabash, and proceeded to the site of the villages on the margin of the prairie, where I encamped at seven o'clock. At this town and the villages destroyed by General Scott in June we found the corn had been replanted and was now in high cnltivation ; several fields being well ploughed, all which we destroyed. On the 12th I resumed my march, and, falling into General Scott's return trace, I arrived without material accident at the rapids of the Ohio on the 21st instant, after a march, by accu- rate computation, of four hundred and fifty-one miles from Fort Washington. The services which I have been able to render fall short of my wishes, my intention, and expectation. But, sir, when you reflect on the causes wiiich checked my career and GENERAL WILKINSDN's EXPEDITION. 107 blasted my designs, I flatter myself you will believe every thing has been done which could be done in my circumstances. I have destroyed the chief town of the Ouiattanau nation, and made prisoners the sons and sisters of the king. I have burned a respectable Kickapoo village, and cut down at least four hundred and thirty acres of corn chiefly in the milk. The Ouiattanaus left without horses, home, or prgyision, must cease to war, and will And active employ to subsist their squaws and children during the impending winter. Should these services secure to the country which I imme- diately represented, and the corps which I had the honor to command, the favorable consideration of government, I shall infer the approbation of my own conduct, which, added to a consciousness of having done my duty, will constitute the rich- est reward I can enjoy. With the most perfect respect, I have the honor to be your excellency's obedient and most humble servant, James Wilkinson. Governor St. Clair. l1 h ) I A Talk from Colonel Wilkinson to the Indian Nations living on the River Wabash. The arms of the United States are again exerted against you, and again your towns are in flames, and your wives and children made captives. Again you are cautioned to listen to the voice of reason, to sue for peace, and submit to the pro- tection of the United States, who are willing to become your friends and fathers ; but, at the same time, are determined to punish you for every injury you may offer to their children. Regard not those evil counsellors who, to secure to them- selves the benefits of your trade, advise you to measures which involve you, your women, and children in trouble and distress. Tiie United States wish to give you peace, because \ 'f M 108 INDIAN NARRATIVES. it is good in the eyes of the Great Spirit that all his children should unite and live like brothers ; but if you foolishly pre- fer war, their warriors are ready to meet you in battle, and will not be the first to lay down the hatchet. You may find your squaws and your children under the protection of our great chief and warrior General St. Clair, at Fort Wash- ington ; to him you will make all applications for an exchange of prisoners or for peace. James Wilkinson. f >^AI 1 children :shly pre- attle, and may find n of our rt Wash- jxchange [NSON. if!f DEFEAT OF GENERAL ST. CLAIR BY THE INDIANS, 1791. GENERAL ST. CLAIR TO THE SECRETARY OF WAR, FoBT Washington, November 9, 1791. Sir, — Yesterday afternoon the remains of the army under my command got back to this place ; and I have now the pain- ful task to give an account of as warm and as unfortunate an action as almost any that has been fought, in which every corps was engaged and worsted except the first regiment, that had been detached upon a service I had the honor to inform you of in my last despatch, and had not joined me. On the 3d instant the army had reached a creek about twelve yards wide, running to the southward of west, which I believe to have been the River St. Mary, that empties into the Miami of the lake, arrived at the village about four o'clock in the afternoon, having marched near nine miles, and wera immediately encamped upon a very commanding piece of ground in two lines, having the above-mentioned creek in front. The right wing, composed of Butler's, Clarke's, and Patterson's battalions, commanded by Major General Butler, formed the first line ; and the left wing, consisting of Bedin- ger's and Gaither's battalions and the second regiment, com- manded by Colonel Drake, formed the second line, with an interval between them of aboui seventy yards, which was all the ground would allow. The right flank was pretty vvell secured by the creek, a 10 ('«") ««s ) 110 INDIAN NARRATIVES. f^ Steep bank, and Faulkener's corps : some of the cavalry and their pickets covered the left flank. The militia were thrown over the creek, and advanced about one quarter of a mile, and encamped u. the same order. There were a few Indians who appeared on the opposite side of the creek, but fled with the utmost precipitation on the advance of the militia. At this place, which I judged to be about fifteen miles from the Miami village, I had determined to throw up a slight work, the plan of which was concerted that evening with Major Ferguson, wherein to have deposited the men's knapsacks And every thing else that was not of absolute necessity, and to have moved oh to attack the enemy as soon as the first regiment was com6 up. But they did not permit me to execute either ; fojp on thb 4tb, about half an hour before sunrise, and when the men had been just dismissed from the parade, — for it was a (Constant practice to have them all under arms a consider- able time beforiB light, — an attack was made upon the militia. ThoSfe gavfe way in a very little time, and rushed into camp through Major Butler's battalion, which, together with part of Clarke's, they threw into considerable disorder, and which, notwithstanding the exertions of both these officers, was never Altogether remedied : the Indians followed close at their heels. The fire, however, of the front line checked them ; but almost instantaneously a very heavy attack began upon that line, and in a few minutes it was extended to the second likewise. The great weight of it was directed against the centre of each, where the artillery was placed, and from which the men were repeatedly driven with great slaughter. Finding no great effect from the fire, and confusion beginning to spread from the great number of men who wer.) fallen in all quar- tiers, it became necessary to try what could be done by the bayonet. Lieutenant Colonel Drake was accordingly ordered to make k charge 'vvith a part of the second line and to turn the left P DEFEAT OP GENERAL ST. CLAIK. m flank of the enemy. This was executed with great spirit. The Indians instantly gave way, and were driven back three or four hundred yards ; but, for want of a sufficient number of riflemen to pursue tliis advantage, they soon returned, and the troops were obliged to give back in their turn. At this moment they had entered our camp by the left flank, having pursued back the troops that were posted there. Another charge was made here by the second regiment, Butler's and Clarke's battalions, with equal effect ; and it was repeated several times, and always with success. But in all of them many men were lost, and particularly the officers, which, with some raw troops, was a loss altogether irremedi- able. In that I just spoke of, made by the second regiment and Butler's battalion, M^jor Butler was dangerously wounded, and every officer of the second regiment fell except three, one of which. Captain Greaton, was shot through the body. Our artillery being now silenced, and all the officers killed except Captain Ford, who was badly wounded, — more than half of the army fallen, being cut off from the road, — it be- came necessary to attempt the regaining it, and to make a retreat, if possible. To this purpose the remains of the army were formed, as well as circumstances would admit, towards the right of the encampment ; from which, by the way of the second line, another charge was made upon the enemy, as if with the design to turn their right flank, but, in fact, to gain the road. This was effected ; and as soon as it was open the militia took along it, followed by the troops. Major Clarke with his battalion covering the rear. The retreat in those circumstances was, you may be sure, a precipitate one ; it was, in fact, a flight. The camp and the artillery were abandoned ; but that was unavoidable, for not a horse was left alive to have drawn it off had it other- wise been practicable. But the most disgraceful part of the business is, that the greatest part of the men threw away A is ^ M 1 J^^HH - ^-fl^^^^l 'Ie i:n- deavored to exculpate himself; but Piomingo ordered two of his warriors to expand his arms, and a third, an old man, (" for," says Piomingo, " none of my young men shall dis- grace •fe''fit';elves so much as to kill a wretch like thee,") to Bhoct Li'i^ tisrouf 5» the heart,^ which was accordingly executed : tliey sdVo' varus took off his scalp. DKKKAT OF GKNEKAL 8T. CLAIIC. 117 During St. Clair'fl bloody engag^pment Adjutant Burgpns received two wounds, the second of which proved mortal. After tlie receipt of the first lie continued to tight witlj distin- guished gallantry ; the second unt'orturmt<'ly stopped his prog- ress. Faint with the loss of blood, ho fell : a woman, who attended him and was particularly attached to him, raised him up, and, while supporting him in her arms, received a ball in her breast, which put an immediate end to her existence. t •• II nil DEPREDATIONS OF THE INDIANS ON THE FRONHERS IN 1791, 1792, AND 1793. On the 10th of December, X791, as two men and three boys were fishing on Floyd's fork of Salt River, they were suddenly attacked hy a party of Indians, who killed the two men and made prisoners of the boys. Soon after they lib- erated one of the lads, first presenting him with a tomahawk, which they desired him to carry to his friends and inform them what had become of his companions. About the 20th a party of Indians attacked the house of a Mr. Chenoweth, situated near the mouth of the Wabash : they killed and scalped two of his children, and tomahawked and scalped his wife, whom they left for dead. Mr. C, who had his arm broken by the fire of the savages, with the remainder of the family made his escape. A sick daughter, who was confined to her chamber, and who, during the bloody affray, had been forgotten by her father, remained ignorant of the horrid massacre until the succeeding day ; when, no one of the family coming to her assistance, she succeeded in crawling down stairs, where she was inexpressibly shocked at the sight of a beloved parent stretched upon the floor, almost lifeless, and beside of whom lay the mangled bodies of her dear brothers. Fortunately her unhappy father returned the succeeding day to the house, and conveyed the two surviving members of his family to the house of a friend, where they finally recovered. On the 24th a party of Indians attacked the dwelling house (118) DEPREDATIONS OF THE INDIANS ON THE FKONTIEUS. 119 Merril, who was first alarmed by the barking of his dog hastened to the door to discover the cause, on opening of which he received the fire of the Indians, which broke his right leg and arm. The Indians now attempted to enter the house, but were prevented by the doors being immediately closed and secured by Mrs. Merril and her daughter. The Indians succeeded in hewing away a part of the door, through which passage one of them attempted to enter ; but the heroic mother, in the midst of her screaming children and groaning husband, seized &a axe and gave the ruffian a fatal blow- after which she hauled him through the passage into the house. The others, unconscious of the fate of their compan- ion, supposing that they had now nearly succeeded in their object, rushed forward, four of whom Mrs. Merril in like manner despatched before the others discovered their mistake. The remaining Indians, after retiring for a few moments, re-* turned and renewed their efforts to enter the house. Despair^ mg of succeeding at the door, they got on the top of the house and attempted to descend the chimney; to prevent which Mr. Merril directed his little son to empty upon the fire the con^ tents of a feather bed, which had the desired effect, as the smoke and heat caused thereby soon brought down rather unexpectedly two of the enemy. Mr. Merril, exerting every faculty at this critical moment, seized a billet of wood, with which he soon despatched the two half-smothered Indians ; while in the mean time his heroic wife was busily engaged in defending the door against the efforts of the only remaining one, whom she so severely wounded with an axe that he was soon glad to retire. A prisoner, who escaped from the enemy soon after the transaction, informed that the wounded savage above men- tioned was the only one that escaped of the party, which con- sisted of eight ; that on his return, being asked by the prison- er, " What news ? " he answered, « Bad news for poor Indian ; me lose a son, me lose n. hrnfhpr? tho enn- self on Still River, since taken frotn Lancast(;r and incorpo- rated into the town of Harvard. He had nine son,-* ; Simon, Henry, Hezekiah, John, Joseph, Josiah, Samuel, Jonathan, and James. Josiah removed to Winchester, in New Hamp- shire, and afterwards commanded Fort Dnmmer'; the rest inherited the substance of their father, and lived to very ad- vanced ages in the vicinity of their birth. They all left numerous families, who spread over the United States. His eldest son, Simon, was my grandfather. Ho had two sons, Aaron and Moses : Aaron lived in Lancaster, and JMoses, my father, removed to Lunenburg. I ought to remark, that my grandmother Willard, after the death of her husband, married a pe son by the name of Farnsworth, by whom she had three sons, who were the first settlers of Charlestown, No. 4. One of them was killed by the Indians. My father had twelve children. He removed to Charles- town, No. 4, in 1742, and soon had the pleasure to find his children settled around him. lie was killed by the Indians in 1756. My mother died in March, 1797,* and had lived to see twelve children, ninety-two grandchildren, one hundred and twenty-three great-grandchildren, and four great-great- grandchildren. The whole that survive are now settled on Connecticut River. ) Notices of Mr. James Johnson. In the year 1730 my great-uncle, Colonel Josiah Willard, while at Boston, was invited to lake a walk on the Long Wharf to view some transports who had just landed from Ireland. A number of gentlemen present were viewing the * At the age of eighty-four she busied herself in making a cover- lid, which contains something of the remarkable ; she did not quite complete it. It now contains upwards of five thousand pieces. ■'-Wffmmm^gm-'' lao INDIAN NARRATIVES. ! exercise of some lada, who were placed on shore to exhibit tlR'ir activity to those who wi.sh.-d to purchase. My uncle spied a boy of sonic vivacity, of about ten years of age, and wlio was the only one in the crew who spoke English. He bargained for hini. I have never been able to learn the price ; but as he was afterwards my husband, I am willing to suppose H a considerable sum. He questioned the boy re- specting his parentage and descent. All the information he could get was, that young James, a considerable time previous, went to sea with his uncle, who commanded a ship and had the appearance of a man of property; that this uncle was taken sick at sea and died : immediately after his death they came in si^ht of this ship of Irish transports, and he was put on board." His being the only one of the crew who spoke Entrlish and other circumstances have led his friends to con- clude that this removal on board the Irish ship was done to facilitate the sequestration of his uncle's property. He lived with Colonel Willard until he was twenty years old, and then bought the other year of his time. In 1748 Governor Shirley gave him a lieutenant's commission under Edward Hartwell, Esq. Sitiiationof the Country in 17 AL It is an old maxim, that, after a man is in possession of a small, independent property, it is easy for him to acquire a great fortune. Just so with countries : possess them of a few inhabitants, and let those be unmolested by Indians and enemies, the land will soon swarm with inhabitants. But when a feeble band only are gathered together and obliged to contend with pestilence, famine, and the sword, their melan- choly numbers will decrease and waste away. The situation of our ancestors has often been described in language that did honor to the hearts that conceived it. The boisterous ocean, with unknown shores, hemmed them in on one side ; and a forest, swarming with savages yelling for their blood, threat- CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOHNSON. 181 ened on the other. But the same undaunted spirit which has defended them in so many perils buoyed them above despair in their early struggles for safety and liberty. I shall bo pardoned for the digression when I observe that I have in all my travels felt a degree of pride in recollecting that I be- longed to a country whose valor was distinguished and whoso spirit had never been debased by servile submission. At the age of fourteen, in 1744, 1 made a visit from Leom- inster to Charlestown to visit my parents. Through a long wilderness from Lunenburg to Lower Ashuelot, now Swan- zey, we travelled two days: a solitary house was all the mark of cultivation that occurred on the journey. Guided by marked trees, we travelled cautiously through the gloomy forest where now the well-tilled farms occupy each rod of ground. From Ashuelot to Charlestown the passage was opposed, now by the Hill of Difficulty, and now by the Slough Despond. A few solitary inhabitants, who appeared the representatives of wretchedness, were scattered on the way. When I approached the town of Charlestown, the first ob- ject that met my eyes was a party of Indians holding a war dance : a cask of rum, which the inhabitants had suffered them to partake of, had raised their spirits to all the horrid yells and feats of distortion which characterize the nation. I was chilled at the sight, and passed tremblingly by. At this time Charlestown contained nine or ten families, who lived in huts not far distant from each other. The Indians were numerous, and associated in a friendly manner with the whites. It was the most northerly settlement on Connecticut River, and the adjacent country was terribly wild. A saw mill was erected, and the first boards were sawed while I was there. The inhabitants commemorated the event with a dance, which took place on the new boards. In those days there was such a mixture on the frontiers of savages and settlers, without established laws to govern them, that the state of society can- not be easily described ; and the impending dangers of war, J 1A2 INDIAN NARRATIVES. where it was known that the savages vrould join the enemies of our country, retai-ded the progress of relinement and culti- vation. The inhabiUmts of Charlestown began to erect a fort, and took some steps towards clearing their farms ; but war soon checked their industry. Charlestown. In the year 1740 the first settlement was made in the town of Charlestown, then known by the name of No. 4, by three families, who emigrated from Lunenburg, by the name of Farnsworth : that part of New Hampshire west of Merrimack River was then a trackless wilderness. Within a few years past instances have been known of new townships, totally un- inhabited, becoming flourishing and thick-settled villages in the course of six or seven years. But in those days, when government was weak, when savages were on our borders and Frenchmen in Canada, population extended with timorous and tardy paces: in the course of twelve years the families increased only to twenty-two or three. The human race will not flourish unless fostered by the warm sunshine of peace. During the first twenty years of its existence as a settled place, until the peace between Great Britain and France, it suffered all the consternation and ravages of war ; not that warfare which civilized nations wage with each other, but the cruel carnage of savages and Frenchmen. Sometimes en- gaged in the duties of the camp, at others sequestering them- selves from surrounding enemies, they became familiar with danger, but not with industrious hu8bandry. In the year 1744 the inhabitants began to erect a fort for their safety. When the Cape Breton war commenced the Indians assumed the hatchet and began their depredations on Charlestown on the 19th of April, 174G, by burning the mills and taking Captain John SpatFord, Isaac Parker, and Ste- phen Farnsworth prisoners. On the 2d of May following Seth Putnam was killed. Two days after Captain Payne c'.rPTivrrr of mks. johnson. 183 arrived with a troop of horse, from Massacliusetts, to defend the place. About twenty of his men had the curiosity to view the place where Putnam was killed, and were ambushed by the Indians. Captain Stevens, who commanded a faw men, rushed out of the fort to their relief: a sharp combat ensued, in which the Indians were routed. They left some guns and blankets on the field of action ; but they carried their dead off with them, which is a policy they never omit. En- sign Obadiah Sartwell was captured ; and Samuel Farns worth, Elijah Allen, Peter Perin, Aaron Lyon, and Joseph Massey fell victims to Indian vengeance. On the 19th of June a severe engagement took place. Captain Brown, from Stow, in Massachusetts, had previously arrived with some troops : a party of his joined a number of Captain Stevens's soldiers to go into the meadow after their horses. The dogs discovered an ambush, which put them into a posture for action and gave them the advantage of the first fire. This disconcerted the savages, who, being on higher ground, overshot and did but little damage to the English. The enemy were routed, and even seen to drag several dead bodies after them. They left behind them guns, spears, and blankets, which sold for forty pounds, old tenor. During the time Captain Josiah Brown assisted in ilefending the fort Jedediah Winchel was killed; Samuel Stanhope, Cornet Ba- ker and David Parker were wounded. During this summer the fort was entirely blockaded, and all were obliged to take refuge within the pickets. On the 3d of August one Philips was killed within a few feet of the fort as he accidentally stepped out : at night a soldier crept to him with a rope, and he was drawn into the fort and interred. In the summer of the year 1746 Captain Ephraim Brown, from Sudbury, ar- rived with a troop of horse to relieve Captain Josiah Brown. The Sudbury troop tarried about a month, and were relieved by a company commanded by Captain Winchester, who de- fended the place till autumn, when the inhabitants, fatigued 12 nili H I! I 1 134 INDIAN NAllUATlVES. with watching and weary of the dangers of the forest, desert- ed the place entirely for about six months. In the month of August, previous to the evacuation, the Indians, assisted by their brethren the French, were very troublesome and mis- chievous : they destroyed all the horses, hogs, and cattle. An attack was made on the fort which lasted two days. My father at this time lost ten cattle ; but the people were secured ?)ehind their wooden walls, and received but little damage. In this recess of the settlement of No. 4 the Indians and French were icelocked in Canada, and the frontiers suffered only in apprehension. In March, 1747, Captain Phinehas Stevens, who commanded a ranging party of about thirty men, marched to No. 4 and took possession of the fort. He found it uninjured by the onemy; and an old spaniel and a cat, who had been domesticated before the evacuation, had guarded it safely through the winter, and gave the troops a hearty welcome to their tenement. Captain Stevens was of eminent service to the infant settle- ment. In 1748 he moved his family to the place, and en- couraged the settlers by his fortitude and industry. In the early part of his life, when Rutland suffered by savage ven^ geance, when the Rev. Mr. Willard was murdered, he was taken prisoner and carried to St. Francis. This informed him of the Indian customs and familiarized him with their mode of warfare. He was an active, penetrating soldier, and a respectable, worthy citizen. In a few days after the fort was taken possession of by Captain Stevens's troops a party of five hundred French and Indians, commanded by Monsieur Debelcie, sallied from their den in Canada and made a furious attack on the fort. The battle lasted five days, and every stratagem which French policy or Indian malice could invent was practised to reduce the garrison. Sometimes they made an onset by a discharge of musketry; at others they discharged fire arrows, which communicated fire to several parts of the fort. But these CAPTIVITY OP MRS. JOHNSON. 185 'S were inf5ufficient to daunt the courage of the little band that were assailed. Their next step was to fill a cart with com- bustibles, and roll it against the walls, to communicate fire ; but the English kept up such a brisk, incessant fire that they were defeated in the project. At length the monsieurs, tired with fighting, beat a parley. Two Indians, formerly acquaint- ed with Captain Stevens, came as negotiators, and wished to exchange some furs for corn : this Captain Stevens refused, but offered a bushel of corn for each hostage they would leave to be exchanged at some future day. These terms were not complied with ; and on the fifth day the enemy retreated, at which time the soldiers in the garrison honored them with as brisk a discharge as they could afford, to let them know that they were neither disheartened nor exhausted in ammu- nition. The garrison had none killed ; and only one, by the name of Brown, was wounded. Perhaps no place was ever defended with greater bravery than this fort during this action. Thirty or forty men, when attacked by five hundred, must have an uncommon degree of fortitude and vigilance to defend themselves during a siege of five days. But Captain Stevens was equal to the task, and will be applauded by posterity. After the battle he sent an express to Boston with the tidings. Governor Charles Knowles happened then to be at Boston, and rewarded Cap- tain Stevens with a handsome sword ; in gratitude for which the place was afterwards called Charlestown. In November, 1747, a body of the troops set out from the fort to return to Massachusetts. They had not proceeded far before the Indians fired on them. Isaac Goodale and Na- thaniel Gould were killed, and one Anderson taken prisoner. From this period until the end of the Cape Breton war the fort was defended by Captain Stevens. Soldiers passed and repassed to Canada ; but the inhabitants took sanctuary in the fort, and made but little progress in cultivation. During the -nciian v/ars, Vthich issteu till tiie year 17 GO, Charlcaiown was !|l1 Mk 1. t 1 i 1 i i 1 , i ' 1 1 \ i 18G INDIAN NARRATIVES. noted more for its feats of war than a place of rapid improve- ment. Settlers thought it more prudent to remain with their friends in safety than risk tlieir scalps with savage power. Since that period it has become a flourishing village, and con- tains all that a rural situation affords of the useful and the pleasant. Numerous farms and stately buildings now flourish where the savage roamed the forest. The prosperity of the town was greatly promoted by the Rev. Bulkely Olcott, who was a settled minister there about thirty-two years. In the character of this good man were combined the agreeable com- panion, the industrious citizen, and the unaffected Christian. During the whole of his ministry his solicitude for the happi- ness of his parishioners was as conspicuous in the benefits they received from his assistance as in their sincere attach- ment to his person. As a divine he was pathetic, devout, and instructive, and may with propriety be said to have Shown the path to heaven, and led the way. He was highly respected through life. In June, 1793, he died, much lamented. Removal to Charlcslown, 8fc. In May, 1749, we received information of the cessation of arms between Great Britain and France. I had then been married about two years, and Mr. Johnson's enterprising spirit was zealous to remove to Charlestown. In June we undertook the hazardous and fatiguing journey. We arrived safe at the fort, and found five families, who had ventured so far into the woods during hostilities. But the gloomy forest and the warlike appearance of the place soon made me home- sick. Two or three days after my arrival orders came from Massachusetts to withdraw the troops. Government placed confidence in the proffered peace of Frenchmen, and withdrew even the appearance of hostility. But French treachery and savage malice will ever keep pace with each other. Without CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOHNSON. 137 even the suspicion of danger, the inhabitants went about their business of husbandry. The day the soldiers left the fort Ensign Obadiah Sartwell went to harrow some corn, and took Enos Stevens, the fourth son of Phinehas Stevens, Esq., to ride horse : my father and two brothers were at work in the meadow. Early in the afternoon the Indians appeared and shot Ensign Sartwell and the horse, and took young Stevens a prisoner. In addition to this my father and broth- ers were in the meadow, and we supposed they must be destroyed. My husband was gone to Northfield. In the fort were seven women and four men : the anxiety and grief we experienced were the highest imaginable. The next night we despatched a post to Boston to carry the news of our disaster ; but my father and brothers did not return. The next day but one my husband and five or six others arrived from Northfield. "We kept close in the garrison, suffering every apprehension for ten or twelve days, when the sentry from the box cried out that troops were coming : joyful at the relief, we all mounted on the top of the fort, and among the rest discovered my father. He, on hearing the guns, sup- pos'ed the fort was destroyed, left his team in the meadow, and made the best of his way to Northfield with my two brothers. The soldiers were about thirty in number, and headed by Major Josiah Willard, of Fort Dummer. Enos Stevens was carried to Montreal ; but the French commander sent him back directly by the way of Albany. This was the last damage done the frontiers during the Cape Breton war. Cursory Notices. A detail of the miseries of a " frontier man " must excite the pity of every child of humanity. The gloominess of the rude forest, the distance from friends and competent defence, and the daily inroads and nocturnal yells of hostile Indians, awaken those keen apprehensions and anxieties which con- ception only can picture. If the peaceful employment of hus- 12* ,-fi m ! 188 INDIAN NARRATIVES. bandry is pursued, the loaded musket must stand by his side ; if he visits a neighbor, or resorts on Sundays to the sacred house of prayer, the weapons of war must bear him company ; at home the distresses of a wife and the tears of lisping children often unman the soul *'> ' 9fl danger assailed in vain. Those who can recollect u that existed between France and England fifty years n^o may figure to them- selves the unhappy situation of the inhabitants on the fron- tiers of New Hampshire : the malice of the French in Can- ada, and the exasperated savages that dwelt in their vicinity, rendered the tedious days and frightful nights a season of unequalled calamities. The daily reports of captured families and slaughtered friends mingled grief with fear. Had there been an organized government to stretch forth its protecting arm in any case of danger, the misery might have been in a degree alleviated. But the infancy of our country did not admit of this blessing. While Governor Shirley, of Massa- chusetts, was petitioning to England for a fleet and an army, Benning Wentworth, the supine governor of New Hampshire, obeyed implicitly the advice of his friend Shirley, and re- mained inactively secure at his seat at Portsmouth. At the commencement of the year 1745 the Quixotic expedition to Louisburg was projected, the success of which originated from the merest accident rather than from military valor or generalship : this drained the thinly inhabited State of New Hampshire of most of its effective men. From that period till the peace, which took place in the year 1749, the vision- ary schemes of Shirley kept the best soldiers imbodied in some remote place, as a force to execute some impolitic pro- ject. The conquest of Canada and the attack upon Crown Point are recorded as specimens of the wild projects which were to employ the infant forces of New England. During this time the frontiers sustained additional miseries by having the small forces of the state deducted for purposes which could be of no immediate service to them. The savages com- CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOHNSON. 13'J mitted frequent depredations on the defenceless inhabitants; and the ease with which they gained their prey encouraged the,r boldness, and by scattering in small parties they were able o mfest the whole frontier of New Hampshire, from Fort Dummer,on Connecticut River, to the lowest settlement on the Merrimack. During this war, which is known by the name of the Cape Breton war, the town of No. 4 could hardly be said to be inhabited: some adventurers had made a begmmng, but few were considered as belonging to the town. Captain Stevens, whose valor is recorded as an in- stance of consummate generalship, part of the time kept the fort, which afforded a shelter to the enterprising settlers in times of imminent danger. But even his vigilance did not save the town from numerous scenes of carnage. At the commencement of the peace, in 1749, the enterprising spirit of New England rose superior to the dangers of the forest, and they began to venture innovation. The Indians still thirsty for plunder and rapine, and regardless of the peace which their masters the French had concluded, kept up a flying warfare, and committed several outrages upon lives and property. This kept ffte increasing inhabitants in a state of alarm for three or four years : most of the time they per- formed their daily work without molestation, but retreated to the fort at each returning night. Our country has so long been exposed to Indian wars that recitals of exploits and sufJerings, of escapes and deliverances have become both numerous and trite. The air of novelty will not be attempted in the following pages : simple facts, unadorned, are what the reader must expect : pity for my suf- ferings and admiration at my safe return is all that roy histo- ry can excite. The aged man, while perusing, will probably turn his attention to the period when the facts took place • his memory will be refreshed with the sad tidings of his coun- try's sufferings, which gave a daily wound to his feelings, between the years 1740 and 1760. By contrasting those days HI 'I ■■: ^ 140 INDIAN NAUKAT1VK8. with the present he may rejoice that he witnesses those times which many have " waited for, but died without the sight.'* Those " in early life," while they commiserate the sufferings which their parents and ancestors endured, may felicitate themselves that their lines fell in a land of peace, where neither savages nor neighboring wars molest their happiness. Situation until August 31, 1754. Some of the soldiers who arrived with Major Willard, with the inhabitants who bore arms, were commanded by Captain Stevens the rest of tho year 1749 and part of the following spring; after which the inhabitants resided pretty much in the fort until the spring or fall of the year 1752. They cul- tivated their lands in some degree, but they put but little confidence in the savages. The continuation of peace began by degrees to appease the resentment of the Indians, and they appeared to discover a wish for friendly intercourse. Tile inhabitants in No. 4 and its vicinity relaxed their watchfulness and ventured more boldly into their fields. Every appearance of hostility at length vanished. The Indians expressed a wish to traffic ; the inhabitants laid by their fears, and thought no more of tomahawks or scalping knives. Mr. Johnson now thought himself justified in removing to his farm, a hundred rods dis- tant from the fort, which was then the uppermost settlement on Connecticut River. He pursued his occupation of trade, and the Indians made frequent visits to traffic their furs for his merchandise. He frequently credited them for blankets and other necessaries, and in most instances they were punc- tual in payment. During the year 1753 all was harmony and safety ; settlements increased with tolerable rapidity ; and the new country began to assume the appearance of cul- tivation. CAPTIVITY OF MK8. JOHNSON. 141 The commencement of the year 1754 began to threaten another rupture between the French and English; and as the dividing line between Canada and the English colonies was the object of contention, it was readily seen that the frontier towns would be in imminent danger. But as immediate war was not expected, Mr. Johnson thought that he might risk the safety of his family while he made a tour to Connecticut for trade. He set out the last of May ; and his absence of three months was a tedious and a bitter season to me. Soon after his departure every body was "tremblingly alive" with fear. The Indians were reported to be on their mareh for our destruction ; and our distance from sources of information gave full latitude for exaggeration of news before it reached our ears. The fears of the night were horrible beyond de- scription ; and even the light of day was far from dispelling painful anxiety. While looking from the windows of my log house and seeing my neighbors tread cautiously by each hedge and hillock lest some secreted sa -age might start forth to take their scalp, my fears would baffle description. Alarms grew louder and louder, till our apprehensions were too strongly conlirmed by the news of the capture of Mr. Malloon's family on Merrimack Eiver. This reached us about the 20th of August. Imagination now saw and heard a thousand Indians ; and I never went round my own house without first looking with trerabhng caution by each corner to see if a tomahawk was not raised for my destruction. On the 24th of August I was relieved *rom all my fears by the arrival of my husband. He brought intelligence from Connecticut that a war was expected the next spring, but that no immediate danger was contemplated. He had made prep- arations to remove to Northfield as soon as our stock of hay was consumed and our dozen of swine had demolished our ample stores of grain, which would secure his family and property from the miseries and ravages of war. Our eldest son, Sylvanus, who was six years old, was in the mean time '' »s 142 INDIAN NARRATIVES. I 9 >* to be put to school at Springfiekl. Mr. Johnson brought home a large addition to his stores, and the neiglibors made frequctit parties at our house to express their joy for his return ; and time passed merrily off by the aid of spirit and a ripe yard of melons. As I was in the last days of pregnancy, I could not join so heartily in their good cheer as I otherwise might. Yet in a new country pleasure is often derived from sources unknown to those less accustomed to the woods. The return of my husband, the relief from danger, and the crowds of happy friends combined to render my situation peculiarly agreeable. I now boasted with exultation that I should, with husband, friends, and luxuries, live happy in spite of the fear of savages. On the evening of the 29th of August our house was vis- ited by a party of neighbors, who spent the time very cheer- fully with watermelons and flip till midnight. They all then retired in high spirits except a spruce young spark, who tarried to keep company with my sister. We then went to bed with feelings well tuned for sleep, and rested with fine composure till midway between daybreak and sunrise, when we were roused by neighbor Labarree's knocking at the door, who had shouldered his axe to do a day's work for my hus- band. Mr. Johnson slipped on his jacket and trousers and stepped to the door to let him in. But by opening the door he opened a scene terrible to describe. " Indians ! Indians ! " were the first words I heard. He sprang to his guns ; but Labarree, heedless of danger, instead of closing the door to keep them out, began to rally our hired men up stairs for not rising earlier. But in an instant a crowd of savages, fixed horribly for war, rushed furiously in. I screamed and begged my friends to ask for quarter. By this time they were all over the house — some up stairs, some hauling my sister out of bed ; another had hold of me ; and one was ap- proaching Mr. Johnson, who stood in the middle of the floor to deliver himself up. But the Indian, supposing that he cAi'Tivrrv OF mus. joiixson. i4d ;ht home frequent rn; and pe yard , I could 3 might. sources e return owds of sculiarly jld, with the fear was vis- •y cheer- all then irk, who went to ivith fine se, when the door, my hus- sers and the door ndians ! " uns ; but I door to stairs for savages, med and ime they uling my ! was ap- the floor y that he would make resistance and be more than his match, went to the door and brought three of ids comrades, and the four bound him. I was led to the door, fainting and tremblin". There stood my friend Labarree bound. Ebenezer Farnl- worth, whom they found up chamber, they were putting in the same situation ; and, to complete the shocking scene, ray three little children were driven naked to the place where I stood. On viewing myself I found that I, too, was naked. An Indian had plundered three gowns, who, on seeing my situation, gave me the whole. I asked another for a petti- coat; but he refused it. After what little plunder their hurry would allow them to get was confusedly bundled up, we were ordered to march. After going about twenty rods we fell behind a rising ground, where we halted to pack the things in a better manner: while there a savage went back, as we supposed, to fire the buildings. Farnsworth proposed to my husband to go back with him, to get a quantity of pork from the cellar to help us on our journey ; but Mr. Johnson pru- dently replied, that, by that means, the Indians might find the rum, and in a fit of intoxication kill us all. The Indian pres- ently returned with marks of fear in his countenance,* and we were hurried on with all violence. Two savages laid hold of each of my arms, and hurried me through thorny thickets in a most unmerciful manner. I lost a shoe and suffered exceedingly. We heard the alarm guns from the fort. This added new speed to the flight of the savages. They were apprehensive that soldiers might be sent for our relief. When * This, as we afterwards found, Avas occasioned by his meeting Mr. Osmer at the door of the house, who lodged in. the chamber and had secreted himself behind a box, and was then making his escape. He ran directly to the fort, and the alarm guns were tired. My father, Mr. Moses Willard, wa* then second in command. Captain Stevens was for sallying out Avith a party for our relief; but my father begged him to desist, as the Ir dians made it an invariable practice to kill their prisoners when attacked. >mk lU INDIAN NAUUAilVLf*. wc had got a mile and a Imlf my tu"mtJic8d obli«|C(l me to sit. This being observcil by an Indian, he drew hia knife, as I supposed, to put an end to my existence. But he only cut some band with winch ray gown was tied, and then pushed me on. My little children were crying, my husband and the other two men were bound, and my sister and myself were obliged to make the best of our way with all our might. The loss of my shoe rendered travelling extremely painful. ^ At the distance of three miles there was a general halt. The savages, supjwsing that we as well as themselves might have an appetite for breakfast, gave us a loaf of bread, some raisins, and apples which they had taken fnmi the house. While we Avere forcing down our scanty breakfast a horse came in sight, known to us all by the name of Scoggin, belonging to rhinehas Stevens, Esq. One of the Indians attempted to shoot him, but was prevented by Mr. Johnson. They then expressed a wish to catch him, saying, by pointing to me, for squaw to ride. My husband had previously been unbound to assist the children ; he, with two Indians, caught the horse on the banks of the river. By this time my legs and feet were covered with blood, which being noticed by Mr. Labarree, he, with that humanity which never forsook him, took his own stock- ings and presented them to me, and the Indians gave me a pair of moccasons. Bags and blankets were thrown over Scoggin, and I mounted on the top of them, and on we jogged about seven miles to the upper end of Wilcott's Island. We there halted and prepared to cross the river. Rafts were made of dry timber. Two Indians and Farnsworth crossed first ; Labarree, by signs, got permission to swim the horse ; and Mr. Johnson was allowed to swim by the raft that I was on, to push it along. We all arrived safe on the other side of the river about four o'clock in the afternoon. A fire was kindled, and some of their stolen kettles were hung over it and filled with porridge. The savages took delight in view- intr their spoil, which amounted to forty or fifty pounds in ji oAi'iivir^ or jiha. joiinson. 145 vulu«;. Thpy then witi wlioop and hade defiance to d 1 a (rue .--avai^o yoll p^ave the war iwrvA'. As our tarry in this place Insted an hour, I had tinu, to rollcnt on our iniserahle .situation, eaptives, ,n the power of unmerciful savages, without pro- vision and almost without elothe.s, in a wilderness where we must sojourn as long as the ohildren of Israel did for aught we knew; and, what added to our distress, not one of our sav- Hgc masters could understand a word of Kngli.sh. Here, after bemg hnrned from hon,e with such rapidity, I have leisure to inform the reader respecting our Indian masters. They were e even* m number, men of middle ago except one, a youth o sixteen who n. our journey discovered a very mischievous aud troublesome disposition. According to their national practice, he who first laid hands on a prisoner considered him as hjs property. My master, who was the one that took my hand when I sat on the bed, was as clever an Indian as ever fh!r; . T'" '''"'''^' "* ""'"^'•^"^ *''^^'^' « disposition that showed he was by no means void of compassion The four who took my husband claimed him as their property ; and my sister, three children, Labarree, and Fainsworth had each a master. When the time came for us to prepare to n^areh I almost expired at the thought of leaving my a. ed parents, brothers, sisters, and friends, and travel wifh savages s^^^^^^^^^^ '"'"^^^ ""'"°^^" '•^^^--'''•" ^^- -^i-- ng s tvmt on J then was in, with three small children. The eldest, Sylvanus, was but six years old ; my eldest daughter Susanna, was four; and Polly, the other, two. My Ster wise thinly clothed. His master had taken his i-iekef «n^ -thmg but his shirt and trousers remained, m; C^X- fi \bl uo INDIAN NAltRATlVrs. ■ ! ters hud nothing but their shifts, and I only the gown that was handed me by the savages. In addition to the suiFenngs which arose from* my own deplorable condition, I could not but feel for mv friend Labarree. He had left a wife and four small children behind to lament his loss and to render his situation extremely unhappy. With all these misfortunes lyin<^ heavily upon me, the reader can imagine my situation. The'lndians pronounced the dreadful word "munch," march ; and on we must go. I was put on the horse ; Mr. Johnson took one daughter; and Mr. Labarree, being unbound, took the other. We went six or eight miles and stopped for the ni'-ht. The men were made secure by having their legs put in° split sticks, somewhat like stocks, and tied with cords, which were tied to the limbs of trees too high to be reached. My sister, much to her mortification, must lie between two Indians, with a cord thrown over her and passing under each of them The little children had blankets ; and I was allowed one for my use. Tims we took lodging tor the night, with the sky for a covering and the ground for a pillow. Ihe ta- tigues of the preceding day obliged me to sleep several hours, in spite of the horrors which surrounded me. The Indian, observed great silence, and never spoke but when realy ne- cessary ; and all the prisoners were disposed to say but little. My children were much more peaceable than could be ima- gined ; gloomy fear imposed a deadly silence. History of out Journey through the Wilderness till we came to the Waters that enter Lake Champlam. In the morning we were roused before sunrise : t^he Indians struck up a fire, hung on their stolen kettles, and made us some water gruel for breakfast. After a few sips of tin meagre fare I was again put on the horse, with my husband by my side to hold me on. My two fellow-prisoners took .L vli^ „;.io ard wp marched sorrowfully on for an hour or rwo,'when a keener distress was added to my multiplied afflic- CAPTIVITY OP MRS. JOHNSON. 147 that tions. I was taken with the pangs of childbirth. The In- dians signified to us that we must go on to a brook. When we got there they sliowcd some humanity by making a booth for me. Here the compassionate rejidtr will drop a fresh tear for my inexpressible distress ; fifteen or twenty miles from the abode of any civilized being, in the open wilderness, rendered cold by a rainy day, in one of the most perilous hours, and unsupplied with the least necessary that could yield convenience in the hazardous moment. My children were crying at a distance, where they were held by their masters, and only my husband and sister to attend me. None but mothers can figure to themselves my unhappy fortune. The Indians kept aloof the whole time. About ten o'clock a daughter was born. They then brought me some articles of clothing for the child which they Jiad taken from the house. My master looked into the booth and clapped his liands with joy, crying, " Two moneys for me ! two moneys for me ! " I was permitted to rest the remainder of the day. The Indians were employed in making a bier for the prisoners to carry me on, and another booth for my lodging during night. They brought a needle, and two pins, and some bark to tie the child's clothes, which they gave my sister, and a large wooden spoon to feed it with. At dusk they made some porridge, and brought a cup to steep some roots in, which Mr. Labarree had provided. In the evening I was removed to the new booth. For supper they made more porridge and some johnny cakes. My portion v^'as brought me in a little bark. I slept that night far beyond expectation. In the morning we were summoned for the journey, after the usual breakfast of meal and water. I, with my infant in my arms, was laid on the litter, which was supported alter- nately by Mr. Johnson, Labarree, and Farnsworth. My sis- ter and son were put upon Scoggin, and the two little girls rode on their masters' backs. Thus v;e proceeded two miles, when mv carriers grew too faint to proceed any farther. This '-ill _';i. i 'i i .411111 'MiwjSaB'f' I 148 INDIAN NAURATIVKS. il! ill : ! ! n: ! l)eing observed by our sable masters, a general halt was called, and they imbodied themselves for council. My master soon made signs to Mr. Johnson that if I could ride on the horse I might proceed, otherwise I must be left behind. Here I observed marks of pity in his countenance ; but this might arise from the fear of losing his two moneys. I preferred an attempt to ride on the horse rather than to perish miserably alone. Mr. Labarree took the infant, and every step of the horse almost deprived me of life. My weak and helpless condition rendered me, in a degree, insensible to every thing. My poor child could have no sustenance from my breast, and was supported entirely by water gruel. My other little chil- dren, rendered peevish by an uneasy mode of riding, often burst into cries ; but a surly check from their masters soon silenced them. We proceeded on with a slow, mournful pace. My weakness was too severe to allow me to sit on the horse long at a time. Every hour I was taken off and laid on the ground to rest. This preserved my life during the third day. At night we found ourselves at the head of Black River Pond. Here we prepared to spend the night. Our supper consisted of gruel and the broth of a hawk they had killed the preced- ing day. The prisoners were secured as usual, a booth was made for me, and all went to rest. After encampment we entered into a short conversation. My sister observed, that, if I could have been left behind, our trouble would have been seemingly nothing. My husband hoped, by the assistance of Providence, we should all be preserved. Mr. Labarree pitied his poor family ; and Farnsworth summed the whole of his wishes by saying, that, if he could have got a layer of pork from the cellar, we should not be in fear of starvation. The night was uncommonly dark, and passed tediously off. In the morning, half chilled with a cold fog, we were or- dered from our places of rest, were offered the lean fare of meal and wat^r, and then prepared for the journey. Every thing reseinbled a funeral procession. The savages preserved CAl'TIVnV OF MK.S. JOHN.->ON. 149 their gloomy .sjulnes.-;. The prisoners, bowed down with grief and fatigue, felt little disposition to ttilk ; and the unevenness of the country, sometimes lying in miry plains, at others rising into steep and broken hills, rendered our passage haz- ardous and painful. Mr. Labarree kept the infant in his arms and preserved its life. The fifth day's journey was an unvaried scene of fatigue. The Indians sent out two or three hunting parties, who returned without game. As we had in the morning consumed the last morsel of our meal, every one now began to be seriously alarmed ; and hunger, with all its horrors, looked us earnestly in the face. At night we found the waters that run into Lake Champlain, which was over the height of land. Before dark we halted ; and the Indians, by the help oi' their punk, which they carried in horns, made a tire. Tlicy soon adopted a plan to relieve their hunger. The horse was shot, and his flesh was in a few moments broiling on embers ; and they, with native glut- tony, satiated their craving appetites. To use the term po- liteness, in the management of this repast, may be thought a burlesque ; yej their offering the prisoners the best parts of the horse certainly bordered on civility. An epicure could not have catered nicer slices, nor in that situation served them up with more neatness. Appetite is said to be the best sauce ; yet our abundance of it did not render savory this novel steak. My children, however, ate too much, which made them very unwell for a nunibei- of days. Broth was made for me and my child, which was rendered almost a luxury by the seasoning of roots. Aftei- supper countenances began to lirighten. Those w'ho had relished the meal exhibited new Htrength, and those \s lio had only smiffed its effluvia confessed themselves regaled. The evening was employed in drying and smoking what remained for future use. The night was a scene of distressing fears to me ; and my extreme weakness had affected mv mind to such a d^""i'ee that evp»*v difScu'tv appeared doubly terrible. By the assistance of Scoggin I 13 * ) I J M 1 150 INDIAN NAKUATIVLS. had been brought so far ; yet so great was ray debility that every hour I was taken oiF and laid on the ground, to keep me from expiring. But now, alas ! this conveyance was no more. To walk was impossible. Inevitable death, in the midst of woods one hundred miles wide, appeared my only portion. Our Arrival at East Bay, in Lake Champlain. In ths morning of the sixth day the Indians exerted them- selves to prepare one of their greatest dainties. The marrow bones of old Scoggin were pounded for a soup ; and every root, both sweet and bitter, that the woods afforded, was thrown in to give it a flavor. Each one partook of as much as his feelings would allow. The war whoop then resounded, with an infernal yell, and we began to fix for a march. My fate was unknown, till my master brought some bark and tied my petticoats as high as he supposed would be convenient for walking, and ordered me to " munch." With scarce strength to stand alone, I went on half a mile with my little son and three Indians. The rest were advanced. My power to move then failed ; the world grew dark, and I dropped down. I had sight enough to see an Indian lift his hatchet over my head ; while my little son screamed, '' ]\[a'am, do go ; for they will kill you." As I fainted, my last thought was, that I should presently be in the world of i^pirits. When I awoke my master was talking angrily with tlie savage who had threat- ened my life. By his gestures I could learn that he charged him with not acting the honorable part of a warrjgj, by an attempt to de;;-roy the prize of a brother. A whoop was given for a halt. My muster helped me to the rest of the company, where a council was held, the result of which was, that my husband should walk by my side and help me along. This he did for some hours ; but faintness then overpowered me, and Mr. Johnson's tenderness and solicitude were unequal to the task of aidina nie farther. Another council was held : I CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOlINaON. 151 I while in debate, as I lay on the ground gasping tor breath, my master sprang towards me with his hatchet. My husband and fellow-prisoners grew pale at the sight, suspecting that he by a single blow would rid themselves of so great a burden as myself. But he had yet too much esteem for his " two moneys." His object was to get bark from a tree, to make a pack saddle for my conveyance on the back of my husband. He took me up, and we marched in that form the rest of the day. Mr. Labarree still kept my infant. Farnsworth carried one of the little girls, and the other rode with her master. They were extremely sick and weak, owing to the large por- tion of the horse which they ate ; but if they uttered a mur- muring word, a menacing frown from the savages soon im- posed silence. None of the Indians Avere disposed to show insults of any nature except the youngest, Avhich I have be- fore mentioned. He often deliir' -^ himself by tormenting my sister, by pulling her hair, treading on her gown, and numerous other boyish pranks, which were provoking and troublesome. We moved on, faint and wearily, till night. The Indians then yelled their war whoop, built a fire, and hung over their horse broth. After supper my booth was built as usual, and I reposed much better than I had the pre- ceding nights. In the morning I found myself greatly restored. Without the aid of physicians, or physic. Nature had begun the cure of that weakness to which she had reduced me but a few days before. The reader will be tired of the repetition of the same materjil^ for our meals ; but if my feelings can be realized, no one will turn with disgust from a breakfast of steaks which were cut from the thigh of a horse. After which Mr. John- son was ordered to take the infant and go forward with part of the company. I "munched" in the renr till we came to a beaver pond, which was formed in a brancli of Olter Creek. Here I was obliged to wade. When half way over, up to the middle in cold water, ray little strength failed, and ray '',!!*|ii,'|jiii» 'i,' il 152 INDIAN NARRATIVES. power to speak or see left me. While motionless and stiff- ened, in the middle of the pond, I was perceived from the other side by Mr. Johnson, who laid down the infant and came to my assistance. He took me in his arms ; and when . the opposite side was gained, life itself had apparently for- saken me. The whole company stopped ; and the Indians, with more humanity than I supposed them possessed of, busied themselves in making a fire to warm me into life. The warm int^uence of the fire restored my exhausted strength by degrees; and in two hours I was told to munch. The rest of the day I was carried by my husband. In the middle of the afternoon we arrived on the banks of one of the great branches of Otter Creek. Here we halted ; and two savages, who had been on a hunting scout, returned with a duck. A fire was made, which was thrice grateful to my cold, shiver- ing limbs. Six days had now almost elapsed since the fatal morn in which we were taken ; and by the blessing of that Providence whose smiles give life to creation we were still in existence. My wearied husband, naked children, and help- less infant formed a scene that conveyed severer pangs to ray heart than all the sufferings I endured myself. The Indians were sullen and silent ; the prisoners were swollen with gloomy grief; and I was half the time expiring. After my feelings were a little quickened by warmth, my sad portion was brought in a bark, consisting of the duck's head and a gill of broth. As I lilted the unsavory morsel with a trembling hand to my mouth, I cast my thoughts back a few days to a time when, from a board plentifully spread in my own house, I ate my food with a merry heart. The wooden spoon dropp'ed from my f(;eble hand. The contrast was too afiecting. Seated on u rag.'^ed rock, beneath a hemlock, as I then was, emaciated by sickness, and surrounded by my weeping and distressed family, who were helpless prisoners, despair would have robbed me of life, had I not put my whole confidence in that T^Ainor urlir* It-ic nAWpr tti cqir/s O"'" n-""-*^""' 'i^ *- .-^-^- CAPTIVITY OK mm. JOHNSON. to lord the stream. I swa taken up by my Iiiishaiul. Tl passing dangerous. Mr. Lnbai Ilowcd most of my hrotli, and 153 was nver was very rapid and cliild. was tri roe, when half over with my pped up by its rapidity, and lost the babe in the water : little did I expect to see the poor tl '•""tunately reached a corner of its blanket and sav-^d itTlife ling again ; but he le rest got safe to the other si lore ; another fi le was built. and my sister dried the infant and its clothes. ^ Here the savages for the first time gave loud^tokens of joy, oy lialloomg and yelling in a tremendous nnumer. The pris- oners were now introduced to a new school. Little did we expect that the accomplishment of dancing would ever be aught ijs by the savages. Hut the war dance must now be held and every prisoner that could move must take its awk-" ward steps. The figure consisted of circular motion round he fare ; each sang his own music, and the best dancer was the one most violent in motion. The prisoners were tau..ht each a song; mine was, Banna uufche natchepnnq ; mv Whether tins task was imposed on us for their diversion, or a rehg^ ceremonial I cannot say; but it was very painful and offensive. In the forenoon seven Indians came to u. who were received with great joy by our masters, who took great pleasure m introducing their prisoners. The war dance was agam held; we were obliged to join and sing our songs, hile he Indians rent the air with infernal yelling. We then cnibarked, and arrived at Crown Point about noon. Each prisoner was then led by his master to the residence of the I rench commander. The Indians kept up their infernal yell- -g the whole time. We w^ere ordered to his apartment, and -ed with that hospitality wd.ich characterizes \he best part he nation. We had brandy in profusion, a good dinner, «e had .ufFered for the want of these thing... None but our- •<^ m ^^ 154 INDIAN NARRATIVES. selves could prize their value. We, after dinner, were pa- raded before Mr. Commander and underwent examination ; after which we were shown . a convenient apartment, where we resided four days »ot sul.ject to the jurisdiction of our savage masters. Here we received great civilities and many presents. I had a nurse, who in a great measure restored my exhausted strength. My children were all decently clothed, and my infant in particular. The first day, while I was tak- ing a nap, they dressed it so fantastically, a la France, that I refused to own it when brought to my bedside, not guessing that 1 was the mother of such a strange thing. On the fourth day, to our great grief and mortification, we were again delivered to the Indians, who led us to the water side, where we all embarked in one vessel for St. John's. The wind shifted after a short sail, and we dropped anchor. In a little time a canoe came alongside of us, in which was a white woman, who was bound for Albany. Mr. Johnson begged her to stop a few minutes while he wrote to Colonel Lydius, of Albany, to inform him of our situation, and to re- quest him to put the same in the Boston newspapers, that our friends might learn that we were alive. The woman deliv- ered the letter, and the contents were published, which con- veyed the agreeable tidings to our friends, that, although pris- oners, we were then alive. The following letter, in return for the one we sent to Colonel Lydius, was the first we received from New England : — Albany, November 5, 1754. SiR^ _ I received yours of the 5th of October, with a letter or two' for New England, which I have forwarded immediate- ly, and have wrote to Boston, in which I urged the govern- ment to endeavor your and family's redemption as soon as conveniency would admit. I am quite sorry for your doleful misfortune, and hope the just God will endue you with patience to undergo your trou- CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOflNSOX. 155 bles, and justly use his rewards on the evil doers and authors of your misfortune. Present my service to all the prisoners with you, from him who subscribes himself to be Your very humble servant, John W. Lydius. Lieutenant James Johnson, Montreal. 'M After a disagreeable voyage of three days, we made St. John's the 16th of September, where we again experienced the politeness of a French commander. I, with my child, was kindly lodged in the same room with himself and lady. In the morning we still found misfortune treading close at our heels : we must again be delivered to our savage masters, and take another passage in the boats for Chamblee ; when within three miles of which, Labarree, myself and child, with our two masters, were put on shore. We were ignorant of our destiny ; and parting from my husband and friends was a severe trial, without knowing whether we were ever to meet them again. We walked on to Chamblee; here our fears were dissipated by meeting our friends. In the garrison of this place we found all the hospitality our necessities re- quired. Here for the first, after my captivity, I lodged on a bed. Brandy was handed about in large bowls, and we lived in high style. The next morning we were put in the custody of our old masters, who took us to the canoes, in which we had a painful voyage that day and the following night to Sorell, where we arrived on the 19th. A hospitable friar came to the shore to see us, and invited us to his house. He gave us a good breakfast, and drank our better healths in a tumbler of brandy. He took compassionate notice of my child, and ordered it some suitable food. But the Indians hurried us off before it could eat. He then went with us to the shore, and ordered his servant to carry the food, prepared for the child, to the canoe, where he waited till I fed it. .he fnar was a very genteel man, and gave us his benedic- jil '• 'Vi ) ki '^' i 4 i H ir>G INDIAN .NAUKATIVKS. tion at parting in feeling language. "VVe then rowed on till the middle of the afternoon, when we landed on a barren healh, and by the help of a fire cooked an Indian dinner ; after which the war dance was held and another infernal yelling. The prisoners were obliged to sing till they were hoarse, and dance round the fire. We had now arrived witliin a few miles of the village of St. Francis, to which place our masters belonged. Whenever the warriors return from an excursion against an enemy, their return to the tribe or village must be designated by war- like ceremonial ; the captives or spoil, which may happen to crown their valor, must be conducted in a triumphant form, and decorated to every possible advantage. For this end we must now submit to painting : their vermihon, with which they were ever supplied, was mixed with bear's grease, and every cheek, chin, and forehead must have a dash. We then rowed on within a mile of the town, where we stopped at a French house to dine : the prisoners were served with soup meagre and bread. After dinner two savages proceeded /to the village to carry the glad tidings of our arrival. The whole atmosphere soon resounded from every quarter with whoops, yells, shrieks, and screams. St. Francis, from the noise that came from it, might be supposed the centre of pandemonium. Our masters were not backward ; they made every response; they possibly could. The whole time we were sailing from the French house the noise was direful to be heard. Two hours before sunset we came to the landing at the village. No sooner had we landed than the yelling in the town was redoubled ; a cloud of savages, of all sizes and sexes, soon appeared running towards us. When they reached the boats they formed themselves into a long parade, leaving a small space through which we must pass. Each Indian then took his prisoner by his hand, and, alter ordeiing him to sing the war sorsg, began to march through the gantlet. We expected a severe beating before we got through ; but we* ^ CAVTlVriY OF Mils. JOHNSON. 167 ed on till a barren ti dinner ; [• infernal hey were village of rVhenever n enemy, d by var- liappen to ant form, is end we ith which •ease, and We then iped at a vith soup ceeded*to ^al. The rter with from the :;entre of liey made ! we were iful to be mding at ing in the sizes and y reached 3, leaving !h Indian )g him to let. We but we' ^ agreeably disappointed when we fbund tliat each Indian only gave us a tap on the shoulder. We were led directly to the houses, each taking his prisoner to his own wigwam. When 1 entered my master's door his brother saluted me with a large belt of wamj)um, and ray master presented me with another. Both were put over my shoulders, and crossed behind and before. My new home was not the most agreeable : a large wigwam, without a floor, with a tire hi the centre, and only a few water vessels and dishes to eat from, made of birch bark, and tools for cookery, made clumsily of wood, for furniture, wdl not be thought a pleasing residence to one accustomed to civilized life. Residence at St. Francis. — Sale of most of the Prisoners to the French, and Removal to Montreal. Night presently came after our arrival at St. Francis. Those who have felt the gloomy, homesick feelings which sadden those hours which a youth passes when first from a father's house, may judge of part of my sufferings ; but when the rest of my circumstances are added, their conception must fall infinitely short. I now found myself, with my infant, in a large wigwam, accompanied with two or three warriors and as many squaws, where I must spend the night, and per- haps a year. My fellow-prisoners were dispersed over the town, each one, probably, feeling the same gloominess with myself. Hasty pudding presently was brought forward for supper. A spacious bowl of wood, well filled, was placed in a central spot, and each one drew near with a wooden spoon. As the Indians never use seats, nor have any in their wig- wams, my awkwardness in taking my position was a matter of no small amusement to my new companions. The squaws first fall upon their knees, and then sit back upon their heels. Ihis was a posture that I could noi imitate. To sit in any other was thought by them indelicate and unpolite. But I advanced to my pudding with the best grace I could ; not. H ♦'^1 K '.B I 168 INDIAN NAltriATlVK.x. however, escaping some of their funny remarks. When the hour for Bleep came on, for it would be improper to call it bedtime where beds were not, I was pointed to a plutlo.m, raised half a yard, where upon a board covered with a blanket 1 was to pass the night. The Indians threw themselves down in various parts of tlie building in a manner that more re- Bcmbled cows in a shed than human beings in a house. In the morning our breakfast consisted of the relics ot the last night My sister came to see me in the forenoon ; and wo . spent some hours in observations upon our situation while washing some apparel at a little brook. In the afternoon I,- with my infant, was taken to the grand parade, where we found a lar-e collection of the village inhabitants. An aged chief stepped forward into an area, and after every noise was silenced and every one iixed in profound attention he began to harangue : his manner was solemn ; his motions and expres- sion gave me a perfect idea of an orator. Not a breath wa^ heard, and every spectator seemed to reverence what he said. After the speech my little son was brought to the opposite side of the parade, and a number of blankets laid by his side. It now appeared that his master and mine intended an ex- change of prisoners. My master, being a hunter, wished tor my son to attend him on his excursions. Each delivered his nroperty with great formality ; my son and blankets being an Tquivalent for myself, child, and wampum. I was taken to the house of my new master, and found myself allied to the first family. My master, whose name was Gill, was son-in- law to the grand sachem, was accounted rich, had a store of goods, and lived in a style far above the majority of his tribe. He often told me that he had an English heart, but his wife was true Indian blood. Soon after my arrival at his house the interpreter came to inform me that I was adopted into his family I was then introduced into the family, and was told to call them brothers and sisters. I made a short reply, ex- pressive of gratitude for being introduced to a house of high OAPTlVm OF MRS. JOHNaON. 169 rank, and requested their patienc*' while I should learn the customs of the nation. This was scarce over when the atten- tion of the village was called to tlu! gran my dis- morning, re going 'cely told im away, agony of vage un- words I I, I shall 53 almost » Fare- tbe small il and see }. It is a recovered to prison, lent. Mr. ;he city in •, St. Luc Dieskau's : about his gation we 3t extrem- bitterness to the lord the liberty Mr. Per- jmpassion- of Novem- carried to a month's CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOHNSON. 161 residence there, with tolerably good attendance, I recovered from my illness and went back to my husband. While at the hospital I found an opportunity to convey the unwelcome tidings of our deplorable situation to my sister at Montreal,' charging her to give my best love to my daughter Susanna, and to inform our fellow-prisoners, Labarree and Farnsworth, that our good wishes awaited them. Not a word bad we yet heard from poor Sylvanus, Winter now began to approach, and the severe frosts of Canada operated keenly upon our feelings. Onr prison was a horrid defence from the blasts of December: with two chairs, and a heap of straw, and two lousy blankets, we may well be supposed to Wvv. uncomfortably : but in addition to this, we had but one poor fire a day, and the iron grates gave free access to the chills of the inclement sky. A quart basin was the only thing allowed us to cook our small piece of meat and dirty crusts in ; and it must serve at the same time for table furniture. In this sad plight, — a prisoner, in jail, winter approaching, — conceive, reader, for I cannot speak, our distress. Our former benevolent friends, Captains Stowbrow and Vambram, had the peculiar misfortune to be cast into a prison opposite to us. Suspicion of having corresponded with their countrymen was the ci-irae witli which they were charged. Their misfortune did not preclude the exertion of generosity: they frequently sent us, by the waiting maid, bottles of wine and articles of provision. But the malice of Frenchmen had now arrived to such a pitch againbt all our country that we must be deprived of these comforts. These good men were forbidden their offices of kindness, and our intercourse was entirely prohibited. We, however, found means by a strata- gem to effect in some measure what could not be done by open dealing. When the servants were carrying in our daily supplies, we slipped into the entry and deposited our letters in an ash box, which were taken by our friends, they leaving 11* -m Mi Mi l\ i i ' ' i H 162 INDIAN NAKUATIVES. one at the same time for us : this served in some measure to amuse a dull hour. Sometimes we diverted ourselves by the use of Spanish cards : as Mr. Johnson was ignorant of the game, I derived no inconsiderable pleasure from mstructmg liira ' But the vigilance of our keepers increased, and our paper and ink were withheld. We had now been prisoners seventeen months, and our prospects Avcre changing from bad to worse. Five months had elapsed since our confinement m this horrid receptacle, except the time we lingered in the hos- pital. Our jailer was a true descendant from Pharaoh ; but, urged by impatience and despair, I softened him so much as to get him to ask Mr. Perthieur to call on us. When the good man came we described our situation in all the movmg terms which our feelings inspired, which, in addition to what he saw, convinced him of the reality of our distress. He proposed asking an influential friend of his to call on us, who, perhaps, would devise some mode for our relief. The next day the gentleman came to see us : he was one of those good souls who ever feel for others' woes. He was highly affronted with his countrymen for reducing us to such distress, and declared that the lord intendant himself should call on us and see theextremiiiss to which he had reduced us. He sent from his own house that night a kettle, some candles, and each of us a change of linen. The next day, January 8, 1756, Mr. Intendant came to fee us. He exculpated himself by saying that we were put there by the special order of Monsieur Vaudrieul, the gover- nor-in-chief, and that he had no authority to release us. But he would convey a letter from Mr. Johnson to monsieur, whicli might have the desired effect. The letter was accordingly written, stating our troubles and beseeching relief; likewise praying that our son might be got from the Indians and sent to us, with our daughter and sister from Montreal. The gov- ernor returned the following obliging letter : — CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOHNSON. 163 leasure to '68 by the mt of the Instructing , and oux' prisoners ; from bad inement in in the hos- iraoh ; but, io much as When the the moving ion to what (tress. He on us, who, The next those good ly affronted istress, and II on us and J. He sent 3S, and each mt came to ve were put , the gover- ise US. But isienr, which accordingly ef; likewise ans and sent I. The gov- TRANSLATION. T have received, sir, your letter, and am much concerned for the situation you are in. I write to Mr. Longieul to put you and your wife in the civil jail. Mr. L. Intendant will be so good as to take some notice of the things you stand in need of, and to help you. As to your boy, who is in the hands of the Indians, I will do all that is in my power to get him ; but I do not hope to have a good success in it. Your child in town and your sister-in-law are well. If it is some opportu- nity of doing you some pleasure I will make use of it, unless some reason might happen that hinder and stop the effects of my good will. If you had not before given some cause of being suspected, you should be at liberty. I am, sir, your most humble servant, Vaudrieul. From the receipt of this letter we dated our escape from direful bondage. Mr. Intendant ordered us directly to the new jail, called the civil prison, where our accommodations were infinitely better. We had a decent bed, candles, fuel, and all the conveniences belonging to prisoners of war. Mr. Johnson was allowed fifteen pence per day, on account of a lieutenant's commission which he held under George II. ; and I was permitted to go once a week into the city to purchase necessaries, and a washerwoman was provided for my use. We were not confined to the narrow limits of a single room, but were restrained only by the bounds of the jail yard. Our situation formed such a contrast with what we endured in the gloomy criminal jail that we imagined ourselves the favorites of fortune and in high life. Residence in the Civil Jail, and Occurrences till the 20th of July, nbl. To be indolent from necessity has ever been deemed a formidable evil. No better witnesses than ourselves can ' \i i it !■ I 164 INDIAN NARRATIVES. testify to the truth of the remark, although our lodgings were now such as we envied a month before ; yet to be compelled to continual idleness was grievous to be borne. We derived some amusement from the cultivation of a small garden within the jail yard ; but a continued sameness of friends and action rendered our time extremely wearisome. About a month after our arrival at this new abode, one Captain Milton, with his crew, who with their vessel were taken at sea, were brought prisoners of war to the same place. Milton was lodged in our apartment. He had all the rude, boisterous airs of a seaman, without the least trait of a gen- tleman, which rendered him a very troublesome companion. His impudence was consummate ; but that was not the great- est evil " while some new recruits were parading before the prison one day, Milton addressed them in very improper lan- guage from our window, which was noticed directly by city authority, who, supposing it to be Mr. Johnson, ordered him into the dungeon. Deeply affected by this new trouble, I again called on ray friend Mr. Perthieur, who, after- having ascertained the facts, got him released. Mr. Milton was then put into other quarters. A new jailer, who had an agreeable lady for his wife, now made our situation still more happy. My little daughters played with hers and learned the French language. But my children were some trouble ; the eldest, Polly, could slip out into the street under the gate, and often came nigh being lost. I applied to the sentinel, and he kept her within proper bounds. Captain : Neil and his brother, from Boston, were brought to us as prisoners. They informed us of the state of politics in our own country, and told us some interesting news about some of our friends at home. In the morning of the 13th ot August, our jailer, with moon eyes, came to congratulate us on the taking of Oswego iVn piiforefl liftlp into his snirit of iov. pre- u.. French. CAPTIVITY OF MRS. JOHNSON. 165 ferring much to hear good news from the other side. We were soon visited by some of the prisoners who had surren- dered. Colonel Schuyler was in the number, who, with the gentlemen in his suit, made us a generous present. The remainder of the summer and fall of 1756 passed off without uny sensible variation. We frequently heard from Montreal. My sister was very well situated in the family of the lieutenant governor, and my eldest daughter was caressed by her three mothers* Could I have heard from my son, half my trouble would have ended. In December I was delivered of a son, who lived but a few hours, and was buried under the Cathedral Church. In the winter I received a letter from my sister, contain- ing the sad tidings of my father's death, who was killed by Indians on his own farm the preceding Jnne, at the age of fifty-three. Savage vengeance fell heavily upon our family. I had a brother wounded at the same time, who ran to the fort with the spear sticking in his thigh. Too much grief reduced me to a weak condition. I was taken sick and car- ried to the hospital, where, after a month's lingering illness, I found myself able to return. The commencement of the year 1757 passed off without a prospect of liberty. Part of our fellow-prisoners were sent to France, but we made no voyage out of the jail yard. About the 1st of May we petitioned Mons. Vaudrieul to per- mit our sister to come to us. Our prayer was granted ; and in May we had the pleasure of seeing her, after an absence of two years. She had supported herself by her needle in the family of the lieutenant governor, where she was treated extremely well, and received a present of four crowns at parting. Impatient of confinement, we now made another attempt to gain our liberty. Mr. Perthieur conducted us to the house of the lord intendant, to whom we petitioned in pressing terms, stating that we had now been prisoners almost three mi'- I mi 16G INDIAN NAKKATlVKd. yeaif?, and had suffered eveiy thing but death ; and that would be our speedy portion, unless we had relief. His lordship listened with seeming pity, and promised to. lay our case be- fore the head man at Montreal and give us an answer in seven days ; at the expiration of which time we had a per- mit to leave the prison. It is not easy to describe the effect of such news ; those only who have felt the horrors of con- finement can figure to themselves the happiness we enjoyed when breathing once more the air ofrliberty. We took lodg- ings in town, where we tarried till the 1st of June, when a cartel ship arrived to carry prisoners to England for an ex- change. Mr. Johnson wrote an urgent letter to Mons. Vau- drieul, prayin^^ ihat his family might be included with those who were to take passage. Monsieur wrote a very encour- aging letter back, promising that he and his family should sail, and that his daughter, Susanna, should be sent to him. He concluded by congratulating him on his good prospects, and ordering the governor of Quebec to afford us his assist- ance. This letter was dated June the 27th. This tide of good fortune almost wiped away the remem- brance of three years' adversity. We began our prepara- tions for embarkation with alacrity. Mr. Johnson wrote St. Luc Lucorne for the seven hundred livres due on Mr. Cuy- ler's order ; but his request was, and still is, unsatisfied. This was a period big with every thing propitious and happy. The idea of leaving a country where I had suffered the keen- est distress during two months and a half with the savages, been bowed down by every mortification and insult which could arise from the misfortunes of my husband in New Eng- land, and where I had spent two years in sickness and de- spair in a prison too shocking to mention, contributed to fill the moment with all the happiness which the lenevolent reader will conceive my due after sufferings so intense. To consummate the whole, my daughter was t*.- be returned to ray arms who had been absent more than i-'r me in at- ;rably. iversed vith I was. He him fourteen me and my family to America. My sailing with the convoy presented my receiving this kindness. During the four years of my widowhood I was in quite an unsettled situation ; sometimes receiving my children who were returning from captivity, and at others settling the estate of my deceased husband. In October, 1759, I moved to Charlestown and took possession of my patrimony, consist- mg of a house which Colonel Whiting had generously assisted my mother in building. In copartnership with my brother, Moses WiUard, I kept a small store, which was of service in supportmg my family and settling my husband's estate. I have received, by petitioning, from the general assembly of Wew Hampshire forty-two pounds, to indemnify myself and tamily for losses sustained b; >ur cour try's enemies. This was of eminent service to me. Mr. Johnson left with Mr. Clmrles Apthorp, of Boston, the sum which my son's re- demption cost, for Colonel Schuyler, who had paid the same, ^ut the general assembly of Massachusetts afterwards paid Colonel Schuyler his demand for redeeming my son. By Mr. Johnson I had seven children : two sons and a daughter died in infancy. Sylvanus, with whom the reader IS acquainted, now lives in Charlestown. Susanna married Captain Samuel Wetherbee, and has been the mother of fifteen children, among whom were five at two births. Polly married Colonel Timothy Bedel, of Haverhill : she died in Au- gust, 1789. Captive married Colonel George Kimball. In th^ year 1762 I married Mr. John Hastings, mv present husband. He was one of the first settlers in Charlestown. I recollect to have seen him when I visited the place in the year 1744. He suffered much by the Indians, and assisted in defending tbe town during the • .' , By him I have had seven chil- dren : one daughter and t 'ir sons died in their infancy. The- odosia is i^arried to Mr. S-ephen Hasham. Randilla died at the age of twenty-two. She li^ed from her infancy with Mr. Samuel Taylor, of Rockingham, by whom she was treated »'y ■".7!rnr.a r— ^., 180 INDIAN NAUIIATIVICS. with great affection. I have had thirty-nine grandchildren aiid four great-grandchildren. I am now in the winter of life, and feel sensibly the effects of old age. I live on the same spot where the Indians took us from in 1754 ; but tlie face of Nature has so changed that old savage fears are all banished. My vacant hours I often em- ploy in reflecting on the various scenes that have marked the different stages of my life. When viewing the present rising generation, in the bloom of health and enjoying those gay pleasures which shed their exhilarating influence so plenti- fully in tl'ii morn of life, I look back to my early days, when I, too, was happy and basked in the sunshine of good fortune. Little do thay think *Mt the meridian of their lives can pos- sibly be render' U miserable by captivity or a prison : as little, too, did I think that my gxlded prospects could be obscured : but it was the happy delusion of youth ; and I fervently wish there was no deception. But that Being who " sits upon the circle cf "he earth and views the inhabitants us grasshoppers " allots ail our ibrtu'ies. Al hough I have drunk so largely from the cup of sorrow, yet my present happiness is a small compensition. Twice has my country been ravaged by war since my remembrance. I have detailed the share I bore in the first : in the last, al- though th3 place in which I live was not a field of bloody battle, yet its vicinity to Ticonderoga and the savages that ravaged the Coos country rendered it perilous and distress- int'. But now no one can set a higher value on the smiles of peace than myself. The savages are driven beyond the lakes, and our country has no enemies. The gloomy wilderness, that forty years ago secreted the Indian and the beast of prey, has vanished away, and the thrifty farm smiles in its stead ; the Sundays, that were then employed in guarding a fort, are now quietly devoted to worship ; the tomahawk and scalping knife have given place to the sickle and ploughshare ; and prosperous husbandry now thrives where the terrors of death once chilled us with fear. ! ' ii: < -VFJIVITJ osr UHB. JOHNSON. 181 children e effects I took U9 that old "ten em- rked the nt rising lose gay 3 plenti- es, when fortune, can pos- as little, bscured : 3tly wish upon the loppers " f sorrow, , Twice mbrance. e last, al- )f bloody ages that distress- smiles of the lakes, 'ilderness, 5t of prey, its stead ; I fort, are I scalping lare ; and 3 of death my ™e™„ry ,vi,h pa«, -cone. „,„.„ .ho.vi'g ,. tTZXMreu Ih.se ,h,„g., yield „ ki„a „f „,el„ncl,„l,. prea»ure I.Kslances of longevity are remarkable i„ my family Mv god mo,l.er be/bre I,er dea.h, eould sa, J m^ " Ar^f aug er, an,, go .„ ,by d„„g,.,er , for .hy^daogh.e , dl l! .::,::":;;;: ^ ' " ^ ----' "■'■'^'' ^™- -*™ - Aad now, reader, afler sincerely wishing that your davs may^be a, happy aa mine have been unfortunate.Tbid ;ou Charlestown, June 20, 1798. I^^ames of Persons killed by the Indians in Charlestown, No. 4. Seth Putnam, May 2, 1748. Samuel Farnsworth, Joseph Allen, Peter Perin, )► May 24, 1746. Aaron Lyon, j Joseph Massey, J Jedediah Winchel, June or July, 1746. Philips, August 3, 1746. J \ October, 1747. Isaac Goodale, Nathaniel Gould, Obadiah Surtwell, June, 1749. Lieutenant IMosos Willard. June 18, 1756. Asahel 8tebbins, August, 1768. Josiah Kellogg, 1 7.59. I i n j L llfi INDIAN NAIIRATIVES. mmber taken Prmners hy the Indiam from €harle,tovm, No. 4. Captain John Spafford, I _^ _,.. Isaac Parker, ^ April 19, 1.46. Stephen Farnsworth, > Anderson, October, 1747. Enos Stevens, June 17, 1749. James Johnson, Susanna Johnson, Sylvanus Johnson, Susan Johnson, Polly Johnson, Miriam Willard, Peter Labarree, Ebenezer Farnsworth, Sampson Colefax, David Farnsworth, Thomas Robins, Thomas Robins, Asa Spafford, Mrs. Robins, Isaac Parker, David Hill, Joseph Willard. > August 29, 1754. May, 1756. [•August, 1758. Wife, and five children, j I June 7, 1760. I BURNING OF ROYALTON. As a union of interest always strengthens the bonds of affection, so a participation in extreme sufferings will never fail to produce a mutual sensibility. Prompted by a gener- ous glow of filial love and affection, we generally take delight in surveying whatever gave our forefathers joy, and are ready to drop a sympathetic tear when we review the sufferings which they have undergone. But, contrary to the laws of sympathy and justice, the attention of the public is often en- grossed with accounts of the more dreadful conflagrations of populous cities in foreign countries or the defeat of armies in the field of carnage ; while the destruction of small frontier settlements by the Indian tribes in our own country is at the same time little known, if not entirely forgotten. Thus the miseries of our neighbors and friends around us, whose bitter cries have been heard in our streets, are too often suffered to pass unnoticed down the current of time into the tomb of oblivion. The burning of Royalton was an event most inauspicioug and distressing to the first settlers of that town. Nor is it a little strange that, among the numerous authors who have re- corded the events of the American revolution, some of them have not given place in their works to a more full detail of that afflictive scene. Laboring under all the difficulties and hardships to which our infant settlements were subject, and striving by perse- vering industry to soar above every obstacle which might present itself to obstruct their progress, they had filled their (183) :■ 1 184 INDIAN NARRATIVES. m bnrnH wi.l» the fruits of tho hind, their stor.-house? were crowded with ih.^ comforts «.f lil'e, and all nature seerried to wear a propitiou.s smih'. All around them promised prof*- perity. They were tar removed trom th.; noise; of war ; and, thou-h conscious of their dan-er, fondly hoped they should escape the ravages of a savage foe. Royalton was chartered in the year 1779. A considerable fiettlement, however, had taken place previous to that time and the town was in a thriving condition. Larga stocks ot cattle, which would confer honor upon the enterprise of farmers in old countries, were here seen grazing in their fields. United by common interest, living on terms of friendship, and manifesting that each one in a good degree " loved his neighbor as himself," harmony prevailed in their borders, socFal happiness was spread around their firesides,, a d plenty crowned their labors. But, alas ! the dreadiul inverse remains to be told. While joys possessed were turned to sorrows, their hopes for joys to come were blasted. And as the former strongly marked the grievous contrast between a state of prosperity and affliction, the latter only showed the fallacy of promising ourselves the future. On the morning of the 16th of October, 1780, before the dawn of day, the inhabitants of this town were surprised by the approach of about three hundred Indians of various tribes. They were led by the Caghnewaga tribe, and had left Canada intending to destroy Newbury, a town in the eastern part of Vermont, on Connecticut River. A British lieutenant, by the name of Horton, was their chief commander ; and one Le Mott, a Frenchman, was his second. Their pilot, or leader, was a despicable villain, by the name of Hamilton, who had been made prisoner by the Americans at the taking of Bur- goyne in 1777. He had been at Newbury and Royalton the preceding summer on parole of honor, left the latter place with several others under pretence of going to survey lands e? wero enjed to c>(l pros- i\Y ; and, y should sidersiblt* lat time, itocks of ■prise of in their iendf'hip, loved his borders, d plenty e remains sorrows, he former state of fallacy of )efore the prised by ous tribes, ft Canada n part of tenant, by nd one Le or leader, , who had g of Bur- •yalton the itter place rvey lands ' BURNING OF ttOYALTON. m ^^ in the northern part of this state, and went directly to the enemy. He was doubtless the first instigator of those awful depredations which were the bitter fruits of this expedition, and which ought to stiirap his name with infamy and disgrace. On their way thither, it is said, they came across several men from Newbr , who were engaged in hunting near the place where Mompelier village now stands, and made them prisoners. Tljey made known their object to these hunters, and inquired of them whether an armed force was stationed at Newbury. Knowing the defenceless state of that town, and hoping tliey should be abhi (o induce the Indians to re- linquish their object and return to Canada, they told them that such an armed garrison was kept at Newbury as would render it extremely dangerous for them to approach — thus artfully dissembling by ambiguity of expression the true con- dition of their fellow-townsmen, and, like Rahab the harlot, saved their father's house from destruction. Unwilnng, however, that tlveir expedition should prove wholly fruitlesf., they turned their course to Royalton. No arguments wlucii thti prisoners could adduce were sufficient to persuade them from that deterntination. Following up Onion River us far as the mouth of Stevens's branch, which empties into the river at Montpelier, they steered their course through Barre, at that time called Wil- dersburg; proceeded up (iaol branch, which forms a part of Stevens's branch, and travelled over the mountains throujih Orange and Washington ; thence down the first branch of White River, through Chelsea and Tunbridge, to Royalton, They laid in their encampment at Tunbridge, not far distant from Royalton, during tiie Sabbath, the day preceding their attack upon the latter place, for the ]tnrj>f)S(' of concerting measures to carry into efJ'ecL their atrociou-^ and malignant designa. Here were matured those di.-ihf.Jical seeds of depre- dation and cruelty from which sprung bitterness, sorrow, and death. 16* r ;■.: I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 'It- 1.0 l.i 1.25 |50 ""'^™ If 1^ "12.5 1.8 U 11.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation i\ ^\^ 23 WES1 MAIN STREET WEBSTER. N.Y. 14580 (716) 372-4533 % V :1? :\ \ ^6^ 6^ ^;^ V> 1^6 INDIAN NARRATIVES. As they entered the town before' daylight appeared dark- ness covered their approach, and they were not discovered till Monday morning at dawn of day, when they entered the house of Mr. John Hutchinson, who resided not far from the line separating Royalton from Tunbridge. He was totally ignorant of their approach and wholly unsuspicious of dan- ger till they burst the door upon him. Here they took Mr. John Hutchinson, and Abijah Hutch- inson, his brother, prisoners, and plundered the house ; crossed the first branch and went to the house of Mr. Robert Havens, who lived at a small distance from Mr. Hutchinson's. Mr. Havens had gone out into his pasture in pursuit of his sheep, and having ascended a hill about forty rods from his house, hearing his neighbor Hutchinson's dog bark, halted, and stood in pensive silence. Here he listened with deep anxiety to know the extent of the evil he feared. But, alas ! he little expected to find a herd of savage men. It was his only fear that some voracious animal was among his sheep, which so disturbed the watchful dog. While he listened in silence, with his thoughts suspended, he heard a noise as of sheep or cattle running with full speed through the water. Casting his eye to the west, towards his own dwelling, he beheld a company of Indians just entering the door. Seeing his own danger, he immediately laid down under a log and hid himself from their sight. But he could not hide sorrow from his mind. Here he wept. Tears trickling down his withered cheeks bespoke the anguish of his soul while he thought upon the distress of his family. With groanings unutterable he lay a while, heard the piercing shrieks of his beloved wife, and saw his sons escaping for their lives. Laden with the weight of years, decrepit and infirm, he was sensible if he appeared in sight it Avould prove hie death. He therefore resolved not to move until a favorable opportu- nity presented. His son, Dotiiel Havens, and Thomas Pem- ber, were in the house, and made their nppearanoe at the door BURNING OF ROYALTON. 187 3d dark- scovered ered the from the IS totally of dan- i Hutch- ; crossed Havens, I's. Mr. lis sheep, is house, ind stood nxiety to he little only fear which BO ) silence, of sheep Casting beheld a his own 1 himself from his withered ight upon jrable he ved wife, afirm, he [lie death, opportu- las Pem- t the door a little before the Indians came up. Beholding the foe but few rods distant, they ran for their lives. Daniel Havens made his escape by throwing himself over a hedge fence down the bank of the branch and crawling under a log, al- though a large number of the Indians passed directly over it in pursuit of him. Who can tell the fears that agifated his bosom while these savage pursuers stepped upon the log under which he lay? and who can tell the joys he felt when he saw them pass off, leaving him in safety ? — a quick transition from painful fear and imminent danger to joyful peace and calm retirement. They pursued Thomas Pember till they came so near as to throw a spear at him, which pierced his body and put an end to his existence. He ran some time, however, after he was wounded, till by loss of blood he fainted, fell, and was unable to proceed farther. The savage mon- sters came up, several times thrust a spear through his body, took off his scalp, and left him food for worms. While they were tearing his scalp from his head, how did his dying groans pierce the skies and call on Him who holds the scales of jus- tice to mark their cruelty and avenge his blood ! He had spent the night previous at the house of Mr. Ha- vens, engaged in amorous conversation with a daughter of Mr. Havens, who was his choice companion, the intended' partner of his life. By imagination we view the fair survivor surrounded by the savage tribe, whose frightful aspect threatened ruin ; her soul overwhelmed with fear, and stung with grief, bereft of her dearest friend. They made the house of Mr. Havens their rallying point, or post of observation, and stationed a part of their company there to guard their baggage and make preparations for re- treat when they had completed their work of destruction. Like the messenger of death, silent and merciless, they were scarcely seen till felt ; or, if seen, filied the mind with terror, nor often afforded opportunity for escape. Moving with 188 INDIAN NAKBATIVEI. violent steps, they proceeded down the first branch to its mouth ; while a number, armed with spears, led the van, and were fol- lowed by others, armed with muskets and scalping knives. The former they called runners, who were directed to kill all those who should be overtaken in an attempt to escape ; while the latter were denominated gunners, took charge of the pris- oners, and scalped those who were killed. They had not proceeded far before a young man, by the name of Elias Button, being ignorant of their approach, made his appearance in the road but a few rods from them. Espy- ing his danger, he turned and ran with the greatest possible speed in his power to escape their cruel hands. The savage tribe pursued him with their usual agility, soon overtook the trembling youth, pierced his body with their spears, took off his scalp, and left him weltering in his gore. Young, vigor- ous, and healthy, and blessed with the brightest hopes of long life and good days, he was overtaken by the merciless stroke of death without having a minute's warning. Innocence and bravery were no shield, nor did activity secure him a safe retreat. That they might be enabled to fall upon the inhabitants unawares, and thereby secure a greater number of prisoners as well as procure a greater quantity of plunder, they kept profound silence till they hac tirrived at the mouth of the branch. After killing Pember and Button and taking such plunder as most pleased their fancy, they proceeded to the house of Joseph Kneeland, who resided about half a mile distant from the house of Mr. Havens. Here they found Messrs. Simeon Belknap, Giles Gibbs, and Jonathan Brown, together with Joseph Kneeland and his aged futher, all of whom they made prisoners. They then went to the liouse of Mr. Elias Curtis, where they took Mr. Curtis. John Kent, and Peter Mason. Mrs. Curtis had just waked from the slumbers of the night, and was about dressing herself as she sat upon her bed, when BURNING OF ROYALTON. 189 mouth ; rere fol- knives. > kill aU B ; while iie pris- I, by the ;h, made Espy- possible \ savage took the took off g, vigor- ) of long IS stroke ence and D a safe [labitants prisoners hey kept h of the : plunder tiouse of ant from . Simeon her with ley made ts Curtis, p Mason. be night, »ed, when the Ravage monsters entered the door ; and one of them in- stantly fiew at her, with a large knife in his hand, and seized her by the neck, apparently intending to cut her throat. While in the very attitude of inflicting the fatal wound the murderous wretch discovered a string of gold beads around her neck, which attracted his attention and prevented the dreadful stroke of death. Thus his avidity for gold allayed his thirst for human blood. His raging passions were sud- denly cooled ; curiosity restrained his vengeance and spared the life of the friglitened object of his cruelty. He had j)ut the knife to her throat, and eternity seemed open to her view ; but instead of taking her life he only took her beads, and left her rejoicing at her deliverance. The barbarous looks of the wicked crew bespoke their malignant designs, and caused horror and dismay to fill the minds of ati who beheld them. But, alas ! who can tell what horror thrilled the bosom of this trembling woman ? What fearful pangs were made to pierce her soul ! Behold the t'\wny wretch, with countenance wild and awful grimaces, standing by her bedside, holding her by the throat with one hand, and the weapon of death in the other ! See standing around her a crowd of brutal savages, the sons of violence, foul tormentors ! In vain do I attempt to paint the scene. Nor will I pretend to describe the feel- ings of a kind and tender mother, who, reposing in the arms of sleep, with her infant at her bosom, is roused from her slumbers by the approach of a tribe of savage Indians at her bedside. To prevent an alarm from being sounded abroad, they com- manded the prisonars to keep silence on pain of death. While the afflicted inhabitants beheld their property wasted and their lives exposed to the arrows of death, it caused their hearts to swell with grief. But they were debarred the priv- ilege of making known their sufferings to their nearest friends, or even to pour out their cries of distress, while surrounded by the savage band, whose malevolent appearance could not wm INDIAN NABRATIVE8. fail to spread fear and distress in every bosom. They plun- dered every house they found till they arrived at the mouth of the branch. Here the commander, a British ofl&cer, took his stand with a small party of Indians, while some went up and others down on each side of the river to complete the work of destruction. They had already taken several horses, which some of them rode, to facilitate their march and enable them to overtake those who attempted to make their escape. Frightened at the horrible appearance of thei- riders, who were in no way qualified to manage them,, the horses served rather to impede than hasten their progress. Instigated by " the powers of darkness," fired with rage, eager to obtain that booty which they acquired by the pillage of houses, and fearful, at the same time, that they sb )uld themselves fall a prey to the American forces, they pursued their ravages with infuriated zeal, and violence and horror attended their movement. General Elias Stevens, who resided in the first house on the river above the mouth of the branch, had gone down the river about two miles, and was engaged at work with his oxen and cart. While busily employed loading his cart, casting his eye up the river he beheld a man approaching, bareheaded, with his horse upon the run, who, seeing General Stevens, cried out, " For God's sake, turn out your oxen, for the In- dian's are at the mill ! " * General Stevens hastened to un- yoke his oxen, turned them out, and immediately mounted his horse and started to return to his family, filled with fearful apprehensions for the fate of his beloved wife and tender offspring. He had left them in apparent safety, reposing in the arms of sleep. Having proceeded on his return about half way home he met Captain Joseph Parkhurst, who in- formed him that the Indians were but a few rods distant, in * The mills to which he referred, owned by a Mr. Morgan, were situated on the first branch, near its mouth. 11 [ BUBXVINa OF BOYALTON. 191 swift pursuit down the river, and that, unless he rpturned im- mediately, he would inevitably fall into their hands. Apprised of his danger, he turned and accompanied the captain down the river. Conjugal and parental affection alone can suggest to the imagination of the reader what were the feelings of General Stevens when compelled for his own safety to leave the wife of his bosom and their little ones to the mercy of a savage foe. What pains did he feel when he found himself deprived of all possible means to afford them relief ! Nor could he expect a more favorable event than to find them all sacrificed at the shrine of savage barbarity. Who, not totally devoid of sympathy, can refrain to drop a tear as he reflects upon those painful emotions which agitated the general's breast when he was forced to turn his back upon his beloved family while thus exposed to danger ? Indeed, it was his only source of consolation that he might be able to afford assistance to his defenceless neighbors ; and as they soon came to the house of Deacon Daniel Rix, he there found opportunity to lend the hand of pity. General Stevens took Mrs. Rix and two or three children with him upon his horse ; Captain Park hurst took Mrs. Benton and several children upon his horse with him ; and they all rode off as fast as pos- sible, accompanied by Deacon Rix and several others on foot, till they arrived at the place where the general first received the alarm. Filled with anxiety for his family, and not hav- ing seen any Indians, General Stevens here concluded again to return, hoping he should be able to reach home in time to secure his household from danger before the Indians arrived. Leaving Mrs. Rbc and children hi the care of a Mr. Burroughs, he started for home, and had proceeded about half a mile when he Bisoovered the Indians in the road ahead of him, but a few rods distant. He quickly turned about, hastened his retreat, soon overtook the company he had left, and en- treated them immediately to leave the road and take to the woods, to prevent being taken. Those who were on foot 192 INDIAN NAURAXIVKS. , jumped over the fence, hastened to the woods out of sight of the Indians, where they remained in safety, undiscovered by the savage foe, who kept the road in pursuit of General Ste- vens, lie passed down the road about half a mile, and came to the house of Mr. Tilly Parkhurst, his father-in-law. See- ing his sister engaged in milking by the barn, he " told her to leave her cow immediately, or the Indians would have her," and left her to secure her own retreat. They v/ere now in plain sight, not more than eighty or a hundred rods off. The road was full of them, running Hke bloodhounds. The gen- eral rode to the house, told them to run for their lives, and proceeded to warn others who lived contiguous. By this time the way was filled with men, women, and children, and a large body of Indians in open view but just behind them. The savage tribe now began to make the surrounding wilder- ness reecho with their frightful yells. Frightened and alarmed for their safety, children clung to iheir parents ; and half-dia- tracted mothers, filled with fearful appr(;hensions of approach- ing destruction, were heard to make the air resound with their cries of distress. General Stevens endeavored to get them into the woods, out of sight of the Indians. Fear had usurped the power of reason, and Wisdom's voice was drowned in the torrent of distraction. There was no time for argument : all was at stake : the enemy hard by, and fast approaching : defenceless mothers, with helpless infants in their arms, flee- ing for their lives. Despair was spread before them, while the roaring flood of destruction seemed rolling behind them. Few could be persuaded to go into the woods ; and most of them kept the road till they larrived at the house of Captain E. Parkhurst, in Sharon. Here they halted a moment to take breath, hoping they should not be pursued any far- ther. The Indians, being taken up in plundering the houses, had now fallen considerably in the rear. But the unhappy victims of distress had not long been here when the cruel pursuers again appeared in sight. BURNING OP ROTALTON. 198 The Screaming and crying now witnessed the horrors of that dreadful scene. Groans and tears bespoke the feehngs of a heart agitated with fear and swollen with grief. There was no t.me to be lost. While they waited they waited for de- struction. Children hanging to their mothers' clothes ; moth- ers inquiring what they should do, and calling for assistance ; floods of tears and piercing shrieks, - all presented to view a most painful scene. Seeing the Indians approaching with hideous yells that thrilled the heart of every one, General Stevens put his mother and his sister upon his own horse. Captain Joseph Parkhurst put Mrs. Rix and three of her diildren upon another horse, without a bridle, and ordered them to hasten their flight. There yet remained the wife ot Captain E. Parkhurst, who stood in the most critical situ- ation m which a woman can be placed, begging and crying for help, surrounded by six small children clinging to her clothes and pleading with her for protection. Alas! how awful was the spectacle, how affecting the scene, to see a woman m this deplorable condition pleading for succor when none could help, when safety and support had fled and dan- gers were rushing upon her 1 A heart not devoid of sympa- thy could not fail to weep. Conscious of her wretched sit- uation, feeling for her dear children, being told there was no probability for her escape, gathering her little ones around her she wept in bitterness of soul ; tears of pity ran down her cheeks while she waited the approach of the savage tribe to inflict upon her whatever malice could invent or inhumanity devise. Her husband, to whom she fain would have looked for pro- tection, was gone from home when all her woes fell upon her Well might she say, « Therefore are my loins filled with pain • pangs have taken hold upon me as the pangs of a woman that travaileth ; my heart panted ; fearfulness affrighted me ; ^e night of my pleasure hath he turned into fear unto me'' While Mrs. Parkhurst saw her mends and neighbors fleeing INDIAN NARRATIVES. from her, and beheld the Indians approaching with imppfuouB step, her bosom throbbed with anguish ; horror seized her soul ; and death, immedinte death, both to her and her children, « stood thick around her," threatening to thrust his dagger into her aching heart. There was no time to decide on the priority of claims to pity or the demands of justice. Those who were nearest at hand first received assistance ; not, how- ever, without regard to that affection which arises from con- sanguinity or matrimonial connection ; and these relations not only unite the hearts but connect the hands in scenes of dis- tress. At the time General Stevens put his mother and his sister upon his horse the Indians were not eight rods from him : they, in company with Mrs. Rix and her children, rode off as fast as possible : the general followed with several others on foot. Fart of the Indians pursued them, while others en- tered the house and plundered it of its furniture. They took her eldest son from her ; then ordered her, with the rest of her children, to leave the house. She accordingly repaired into the fields back of the house with five of her children, and remained in safety till they had left the place. Soon after General Stevens started his dog came in his way and caused him to stumble and fall, which so retarded his progress that he was obliged to flee to the woods for safety, leaving the women and children to make the best of their retreat. The Indians pursued down the road after them with frightful yells, and soon overtook those who were on foot. They took Gard- ner Rix, son of Deacon Rix,* a boy about fourteen years old, just at the heels of his mother's horse, while she was com- pelled to witness the painful sight. Alas ! what distresr and horror filled her bosom, when she, with three of her children no less dear than herself, fleeing from the savage foe, mount- ed upon a horse snorting with fear, having nothing but a • Captain Rix then lived where Mr, Phelps now lives, 1863. BURNING OF ROYALTON. 195 pctuous zed her ihildren, dagger on the Those ot, how- om con- tions not s of dis- lis sister ora him : rode ofT il others thers en- hey took 58t of her lired into ren, and oon after id caused jress that iving the at. The tful yells, ok Gard- years old, was com- 5tresr and ' children >e, mount- ing hut a , 1863. pocket handkerchief in his mouth for a bridle, saw her wea- ried son, faint for want of breath, fall a captive to this barba- rous crew ! Cruel fate ! The trembling youth, overwhelmed with fear and bathed in tears, was now torn from his tender parents and compelled to roam the wilderness to unknown regions. Nor was the disconsolate mother, with her other little ones, left in a much more safe condition. Exposed and expecting every step to fall to the ground, which, if it proved not their death, would leave them a prey to the savage mon- sters, no tongue can tell the pains she felt, nor pen describe the horrors of her soul. To behold her little son, while flee- ing ibr his life, fall into the hands of these sons of cruelty, what kind and tender mother would not feel her heart to bleed ? May we not listen to the voice of Imagination, and hear her say, — " O infinite distress ! such raging grief Should command pity, and despair relief; Passion, methinks, should rise from all my groans, Give sense to rocks and sympathy to stones " ? The Indians pursued the women and children as far as the house of Mr. Benedict, the distance of about a mile. They effected their escape, though surrounded with dangers and pursued with impetuous and clamorous steps. Here they discovered Mr. Benedict on the opposite side of a stream, called Broad Brook, which ran near the house. They beck- oned to have him come over to them : choosing, however, not to hazard the consequences of yielding obedience to their re- quest, he turned and ran a short distance and hid himself under a log. He had not long been in this situation when these bloodthirsty wretches came and stood upon the same log, and were heard by him to exclaim, in angry tone, " If we could hnd him he should feel the tomahawk." After standing upon the log some time and endeavoring to espy ttie concealed, trembling object of their pursuit, they left IM nfI>TAIf MARUATIV»»» him and returned to th« house. Ah, what joy flllod W. bosom when he saw thene messengers of death pass away leaving him in safety ! How must his heart have glowed with gratitude towards the - great Preserver of men ' at this unexpected deliverance from the most imminent danger 1 His joys, however, were not unmingled with sorrow, as the fell destroyers were still nt his house committing ravages and wasting his property. But no man can be supposed to put his property in competition with his life. The Indians pursued down the river about forty rods far- ther, where they made a young man, by the name of Avery, prisoner, ntid then concluded to return. While they were at the house of Tilly Parkburst, afore- mentioned, (which was about six miles from the place they entbred Royalton,) his son, Phineas Parkburst, who had been to alarm the people on the east side of the river, just as he entered the stream on his return discovered the Indians at his father's door. Finding himself in danger he immediately turned to go back ; and the Indians just at this time happened to see him, and fired upon him. This was the first gun they fired after they entered the town. The ball entered his back, went through his body, came out under his ribs, and lodged in the skin : notwithstanding the wound* he was, however, able to ride, and continued his retreat to Lebanon, in the State oi New Hampshire, the distance of about sixteen miles, with very little stop, supporting the ball between his fingers. He now resides in that town, and sustains the character of a use- ful physician, and an industrious, independent farmer. That party of Indians which went down on the east side of the river extended their ravages as far as the house of Cap- tain Gilbert, in Sharon, where a public house is now kept by Captain Daiia. Here they took a nephew of Captain Gil- bert, by the name of Nathaniel Gilbert, a boy about fifteen years of age. They now resolved to return, and commenced that waste of property which tracked their progreaa. Aa BUJUriMO OF ROTALTON. 197 led hit away, glowed at this r\ , as the geH and 1 to put ods far- Avery, t, afore- Rce they lad been ist as he dians at lediately lappened ;un they his back, lodged in ver, able State ol les, with ers. He of a use- ?. 3t side o£ 5 of Cap- f kept by tain Gil- ut fifteen mmenced resa^ As they retraced their steps, they set fire to all the buildings they found of every description. They spread desolation and distress wherever they went. Houses filled with furniture and family supplies for the winter, barns stored with the fruits of industry, and fields stocked with herds of cattle were all laid waste. They shot and killed fourteen fat oxen in one yard, which, in consequence of the inhabitants being dispersed, were whol- ly lost. Cows, sheep, and hogs, and, indeed, every creature designed by the God of nature to supply the wants of raan, which came within their sight, fell a prey to these dreadful spoilers. Parents torn from their children, husbands sepa- rated from their wives, and children snatched from their parents presented to view an indescribable scene of wretch- edness and distress. Some were driven from their once peace- ful habitations into the adjacent wilderness for safety, there to wait the destruction of their property ; stung with the painful reflection that their friends, perhaps a kind father and affec- tionate brother, were made captives, and compelled to travel with a tawny herd of savage men into the wild regions of the north, to be delivered into the hands of enemies and undergo the fatigues and dangers of a wretched captivity ; or, what was scarcely more to be deplored, learn with pain that they had fallen the unhappy victims to the relentless t'ury of the savage tribe, and were weltering in their gore where there was no eye to pity or friendly hand to admiuster relief. The third party of Indians who went up the river first came to the house of General Stevens. Daniel Havens, whose escape I have mentioned, went directly there and warned the family of their danger. Trembling with fear, he only stepped into the house, told them that » the Indians were as thick as the d — 1 at their house," and turned and went directly out, leaving the family to secure their own retreat. Mrs. Stevens and the family were in bed excepting her husband, who, as before stated, had gone down the river, about 17* 19* INDIAN NARRATIVBU. two miles from home. She immediately arose from her bed, flung some loose clothes over her, took up her child, and had scarcely got to the Hre when a Inrge body of Indians rushed in at the door. They immediately ransacked the house in search of men, and then took the beds and bedding, carried them out of doors, cut open the bed ticks, and threw the feath- ers into the air. This made them sport enough. Nor did they fail to manifest their infernal gratification by their tar- tarean shouts and disingenuous conduct. Mrs. Stevens entreated them to let her have some clothea for herself and child ; but her entreaties were in vain. They were deaf to thfl calls of the needy and disregarded the de- mands of justice. Her cries reached their ears ; bul nothing could excite one single glow of sympathy. Her destitute and suffering condition was plain before their eyes ; but they were blind to objects of compassion. Alas ! what bitterness of soul, what anguish, what heartren'^ng pangs of fear dis- tressed her tender bosom! Surrounded by these pitiless, terrific monsters in human shape, with her little offspring in her arms, whose piercing shrieks and lender age called for compassion ; exposed to th^ laging fire of savage jealousy, unquenchable by a mother's tears ; anxious for the safety and mourning the absence of her bosom friend, the husband of her youth,— it is beyond the powers of imagination to conceive or language to express the sorrows of her heart. At one moment securely reposing in the arms of sleep, with her darling infant at her breast ; the next amid a savage crew, whosl wicked hands were employed in spreading deso- lation and mischief, whose mortal rage exposed her to the arrows of death. Afler plundering the house they told Mrs. Stevens to "begone, or they would burn." She had been afraid to make any attempt to escap'^, but now gladly em- braced the opportunity. She hastened into the adjacent wil- derness, carrying her child, where she tarried till the Indians had left the town. r BURNING OF ROYALTON. 199 ber bed, and had rushed lOUse in , carried le feath- Nor did heir tar- e clothea 1. They . the de- L nothing destitute but they jitterness fear dis- ! pitiless, spring in jailed for jealousy, afety and isband of ) conceive leep, with a savage iliug deso- ler to the told Mrs. had been ;ladly em- jacent wil* he Indians A boy by the nan.e of Daniel Waller, about fourteen years old, who l.ved with General Stevens, hearing the alarm given by Mr. Plavens, set out i;nmediately to go to the general and give him the mformation. lie had proceeded about half a mile when ha met the Indians, was taken prisoner, and car- ned to Canada. They left the house and barn of General Stevens in flames and proceeded up the river as far as Mr. Durkee's, where they took two of his boy. prisoners, Adan and Andrew, and earned the former to Canada, who died there in prison. Seemg a smoke arise above the trees in the woods adjacent, the hostile invaders directed their course to the spot, where they found a young man, by the name of Prince Haskell, busily engaged in chopping, for the commencement of a set- tlement Haskell heard a rustling among the leaves behind him, and, turning round, beheld two Indians but a few feet from him. One stood with his gun pointed directly at him, and the other in the attitude of throwing a tomahawk. Find- ing he had no chance to escape, he delivered himself up as a prisoner, and was also carried to Canada. He returned in about one year, after enduring the most extreme sufferin*^ in nis wanderings through the wilderness on his way home.° A Mr. Chafee,* who lived at the house of Mr. Hendee 8^ ' .d early in the morning to go to the house of Mr. Ellas "•^ *^ ^-^ ^"^^ horse shod. On his way he saw Mr. John i.ent ahead o^ him, who was upon the same business. Wish- ing to put in his claim before IMr. Chafee, he rode very fast and arrived at the liouse rirst. He had scarcely dismounted from his horse when the Indians came out of the house, took him by the hair of his head, and pulled him over backwards. Seeing this, Mr. Chafee immediately dismounted, jumped be- hind ihe shop, hasien'ed away, keeping such a direction as would cause the shop to hide his retreat. Thus he kept out ^ ir- - jhiuae lived near where Mr. Dewey now lives, 1851. 200 INDIAN NAURATIVE8. II i of sight of the Indians, effected his escape, and returned to the house of Mr. Hendee.* On receiving the alarm given by Mr. Chafee, Mr. Hendee directed his wife to take her little boy, about seven years old, and her little daughter, who was still younger, and hasten to one of their neighbors for safety, while he should go to Bethel, the town west of Royalton, and give the alarm at the fort. Mrs. Hendee had not proceeded far when she was met by several Indians upon the run, who took her little boy from her. Feeling anxious for the fate of her child, she inquired what they were going to do with him. They replied that they should make a soldier of him ; and then hastened away, pull- ing him along by the hand, leaving the weeping mother with her little daughter to witness the scene and hear the piercing shrieks of her darling son. This leads me to notice one instance of female heroism, blended with benevolence, displayed by Mrs. Hendee, whose name deserves ever to be held in remembrance by every friend of humanity. She was now separated from her husband, and placed in the midst of a savage crew, who were committing the most horrid depredations and destroying every kind of property that fell within their grasp. Defenceless, and exposed to the shafts of envy or the rage of a company of despicable tories and brutal savages, the afflicted mother, robbed of her only son, proceeded down the river with her tender little daughter hanging to her clothes, screaming with fear, pleading with her mothei to keep away the Indians. In this condition, possessing uncommon resolution and great presence of mind, ^e determined again to get possession of her son. As she passed down the river she met several tories who were with the Indians, of whom she continued to inquire what they intended to do with the children they had taken, * Mr. IlendcG lived near where Milo Dewey now lives, 1863. aUBNUTG OV BttTAtTON. 904 urned to m given her little who was r safety, Iton, and 1 met by boy from inquired that they (ray, puU- ther with ! piercing heroism, ee, whose by every placed in the most property led to the ible tories her only daughter T with her and great session of eral tories to inquire ad taken, imd received an answer that they should kill them. Still d«w termmed not to part with her son, she passed on and soon discovered a large body of Indians stationed on the opposite side of the river. Wishing to find the commanding officer, and supposmg him to be there, she set out to cross the river and just as she arrived at the bank an old Indian stepped ashore. He could not talk English, but requested by si^^ns to know where she was going. She signified that she was going to cross ; when he, supposing she intended to deliver herself up to them as a prisoner, kindly offered to carry her and her' child across on his back. But she refused to be carried. He Uien insisted upon carrying her child ; to which she consented. Ihe little girl cried, and said «she didn't want to ride the old Indian. She was, however, persuaded to ride him ; and they all set out to ford the river. Having proceeded about half way across they came to deeper and swifter water ; and the old Indian, patting the mother upon the shoulder, gave her to understand that if she would tarry upon a rock near them, which was not covered with water, tiU he had carried her child over, he would return and carry her also. She therefore stopped and sat upon the rock till he had carried her daughter and set it upon the opposite shore, when he returned and took her upon his back, lugged her over, and safely landed her with her child. Supported by a consciousness of the justice of her cause braving every danger, and hazarding the most dreadful con- sequences, not excepting her own life and that of her children she now sat out to accomplish her object. ' She hastened to the commanding officer and boldly in- quired of him what he intended to do with her child. He told her that it was contrary to orders to injure women or children. « Such boys as should be taken," he said, « would be trained for soldiers, and would not be hurt." " You know," said she, in reply, " that these little ones can- not eadux e the fatigue* of » march through the vast extent 202 INDIAN NARRATIVES. of wilderness which you are calculating to pass. And when their trembling limbs shall fail to support their feeble bodies, and they can no longer go, the tomahawk and the scalping knife will be the only relief you will afford them. Instead of falling into a mother's arms and receiving a mother's ten- der care, you will yield them into the arms of death, and earth must be their pillow where the howling wilderness shall be their only shelter. Truly a shelter from a mother's tears, but not from the jaws of wild beasts or a parent's grief. And give me leave to tell you," added she, " were you possessed of a parent's love, could you feel the anguish of a mother's heart at the loss of her first born, her darling son, torn from her bosom by the wicked hands of savage men, no entreaties would be required to obtain the release of my dear child." Horton replied, " that the Indians wei*e an ungovernable race, and would not be persuaded to give up any thing they should see fit to take." "You are their commander," continued she, "and they must and will obey you. The curse will fall upon you for whatever crime they may commit ; and all the innocent blood they shall here shed will be found in your skirts ' when the secrets of men's hearts shall be made known ; ' and it will then cry for vengeance on your head ! " Melted into tears at this generous display of maternal af- fection, the infamous destroyer felt a relenting in his bosom, bowed his head under the weight of this powerful eloquence and simple boldness of the brave heroine, and assured her that he would deUver her child up when the Indians arrived with him. The party who took him had not yet returned. When he arrived, Horton, with much difficulty, prevailed on the Indians to deliver him up. After she had gained posses- sion of him she set out, leading him and her little girl by the hand, and hastened away with speed, while the mingled sen- sations of fear, joy, and gratitude filled her bosom. She had not £OtlC iUUrU lUUll icil luus rrucii x^Oiiuii iCiiOttcu aiiu Lvtu nd when i bodies, scalping Instead er's ten- nd earth shall be ears, but jf. And )ossessed mother's orn from ntreaties hild." ivernable ing they md they you for ent blood vhen the id it will ernal af- s bosom, sloquence ured her 3 arrived returned, i'ailed on d posses- irl by the gled sen- She had BURNING OF KOYALTON. 208 her to go back and stay till the scouting parties had returned, lest they should again take her boy from her. She accord- ingly returned and tarried with the Indians till they all ar- rived and started for Canada. While she was there; several of herne,ghbors' children, about the same age of her own, were brought there as captives. Possessing benevolence equal to her courage, she now made suit for them; and by her warm and affectionate entreaties, succeeded in procuring their release. While she waited for their departure, sitting upon a pile of boards, with the little objects of charity around her holding fast to her clothes, with their cheeks wet with tears, an old Indian came and took her son by the hand and endeavored to get him away. She refused to let him go, and held him fast by the other hand till the savage monster vio- lently waved his cutlass over her head, and the piercing shrieks of her beloved child filled the air. This excited the rage of the barbarous crew so much as to endanger her own and the lives of the children around her, and compelled her to yield him into his hands. She again made known her griev- ances to Horton, when, after considerable altercation with the Indians, he obtained her son and delivered him to her a sec- ond time, though he might be said to "fear not God nor re- gard man." Thus, like the importunate widow who " troubled the unjust judge," this young woman * obtained the release oi nine small boys from a wretched captivity which doubt- less would have proved their death. She led eight of them away, together with her daughter, all hanging to her own clothes and to each other, mutually rejoicing at their deliver- ance. The other, whose name was Andrew Durkee, whom the Indians had carried to the house of Mr. Havens, was there released according tc the agreement of Horton with Mrs. Hendee, and sent back o- > icount of his lameness. , Being told that the great bone in his leg had been taken * Mrs. Kemlee was at this time aged twenty-seven years. 204 INDIAN NAKUAT1VE8. out in consequence of a fever sore, an old Indian examined it and cried out, " No boon ! no go ! " and, giving him a blanket and a hatchet, sent him back. Mrs. Hendee carried two of the children across the river on her back, one at a time, and the others waded through the water with their arms around each other's neck. After cross- ing the river she travelled about three miles with them and encamped for the night, " gathering them ai-ound her as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings." The names of the children who were indebted to her for their release from the savage tribe were Michael Hendee, Roswell Parkhurst, son of Captain Ebenezer Parkhurst, Andrew and Sheldon Dur- kee, Joseph Rix, Rufus and Fish, Nathaniel Evans, and Daniel Downer. The latter received such an affright from the horrid crew that he was ever afterwards unable to take care of himself, wholly unfit for business, and lived for many years wandering from place to place, a solemn though silent witness of the distress and horror of that dreadful scene. Mrs. Hendee now (1818) lives in Sharon, where the au- thor visited her and received the foregoing statement of this noble exploit from her own mouth. It is also corroborated by several gentlemen, now living, who were eye witnesses. She has buried her first and second husbands, and now lives a widow, by the name of Moshier. Her days are almost gone. May her declining years be crowned with the reward due to her youthful deeds of benevolence. She has faced the most awful dangers for the good of mankind, and rescued many from the jaws of death. In view of the exceeding riches of that mercy which has protected her through such scenes of danger, may she devote her life to the service of the mighty God, and, at last, find a happy seat at the right hand of Him " wlio gave himself a ransom for all." And thus let the children, who are indebted to her braver^ and benevolence for their lives, " rise up and BURNING OK ROYALTON. m mined it blanket lie river )ugh the er cross- lem and as a hen es of the Tom the urst, son Ion Dur- l Evans, I affright inable to lived for a. though dreadful 5 the au- at of this roborated nesses. now lives re almost e reward faced the i rescued vhich has he devote ist, find a himself a 3 indebted e up and can her blessed." Gratitude forbids their silence ; for to maternal affection and female heroism alone, under God, they owe the.r deliverance from savage cruelty. The boldest hero o the othe.- sex could never have effected what she accom- pished. H.S approach to the savage tribe to intercede in behalf of those defenceless children most surely would have brought upon h.mself a long and wretched captivity, and per- haps even death itself. f .r» « « per The Indians, having accomplished their nefarious desic^ris returned to the house of Mr. Havens with their prisoners and the plunder of houses which they had devoted to'destruc tion. Here was the place where they had commenced their hmiself under a log, at the time he espied the Indians in the mornjug whtle hunting for his sheep, still remained in sorrow- ful sdence undiscovered. He had considered it unsafe to move, as a party of the crew had continued there during the day and had twice come and stood upon the log under which he lay without finding him. "cr wnicn After collecting their plunder together and distributing it among them they burned the house and barn of Mr. Havens and started for Canada. It was now about two o'clock in the a ternoon. They carried off twenty-six prisoners fz-om Roy- alton, who were all delivered up to the British as prisoners oi v;ar. ^ They all obtained their release and returned in about one yea,- excepting Adan Durkee, who died in camp at Montreal. Iwenty-one dwelling houses, and sixteen good new barns, well filled with hay and grain, the hard earnings of indus- trious young fanners, were here laid in ashes by the impious crew. They killed about one hundred and fifty head of neat cattle and all the sheep and swine they found. Ho^^s the ir pens and cattle tied in tl ley destroyed all the liou.>^.;hold I'urnit eir stalls were burned al m ive. ure except what thev earned w.th them. They burned the house of Mr. John 18 206 INDIAN NARRATIVES. Hutchinson ; an.1 giving his wife a hatchet and a flmt, to- gether with a quarter of mutton, told lier to " go and cook for her men." Tlii^ they said to aggravate her teehngs and remind her of her forlorn condition. Women and children were left entirely destitute of food and every kind of article necessary for the comforts of lite, almost naked, and without a shelter. Wandering from place to place, they beheld their cattle rolling in their blood, groan- ing in the agonies of death, and saw their houses laid m ruins. Disconsolate mothers and weeping orphans were ieit to wander through the dreadful waste and lament the loss of their nearest friends, comfortless and forlorn. The Indians took away about thirty horses, which were however of little use to them, but rather served to hinder their progress. Their baggage was composed of almost every article commonly found among farmers ; such as axes and hoes, pots, kettles, shovels and tongs, sickles, scythes and chains, old side saddles, and bed ticks emptied of their feath- ers, warming pans, plates, and looking glasses, and indeed nearly all kinds of articles necessary for the various avoca- tions of life. On their return they crossed the hills in Tunbridge, lying west of first branch, and proceeded to Randolph, where they encamped for the first night, near the second branch, a dis- tance of about ten miles. They had, however, previously despatched old Mr. Kneeland, a prisoner whom they consul- ered would be of the least service to them, with letters to the militia, stating that, " if they were not followed, the prisoners should be used well ; but should they be pursued, every one of them would be put to death." The alarm had by this time spread through the adjacent towns; and the scattering, undisciplined militia shouldered their muskets and hastened to pursue them. They collected at the house of Mr. Evans, in Randolph, about two miles south of the encampment of the Indians. Here they formed BURNING OP ROYALTON. 207 flint, te- nd cook 11 g8 and of food I of life, m place I, groan- ) laid in vere left i loss of ich were hinder )st every ixea and :hes and air feath- d indeed IS avoca- Ige, lying liere they ch, a dis- •reviously ;y consid- ers to the prisoners every one 1 adjacent houldered r collected two miles ey formed R company, consistinjr of about three hundred in number, and made choice of Colonel John House, of Ilanovor, New Hamp- shire, for their commander. They supposed the Indians had gone to Brookfield, about ten miles from that place, up the second branch. With this expectation they took up their march about twelve o'clock at night, hoping they should be able to reach Brookfield before light and make them prison- ers. They had scarcely Ptarteted he waa visited with a severe fit of sickness which prevented him from entering the army, and compelled me to go into the ranks, leaving him behmd. My two older brothers, Aaron and James, also enlisted the same year. Aaron died in March following at Chatham, New Jersey, in the twenty-third year of his age. Bereft ot a brother whom I held dear, after s.-ving the term of my en- listment I returned to Ellington. The next year I served one campaign in the militia, and the year following as a teamster, which closed my services in the army. I was now about nineteen years of age. I had been favored with very little opportunity, as yet, to acquire an education ; as the infantile state of the colonies and the agita- tion of public affairs at that time afforded little encourage- ment to schools, and caused a universal depression of literature in general. I however, acquired an education sufficient to enable me to transact the business of a farmer and regulate my own con- cerns in my intercourse with mankind. But long have I deeply regretted the want of that knowledge of letters requi- site to prepare for the press a narrative of my own sufferings and those of my fellow-captives which should be read with interest and receive the approbation of an indulgent public. No hope of pecuniary gain or wish to bru.^- nysolf into public notice has induced me to publish a pn -n, .. ' my sufferings. A desire that others as well as myself might learn wisdom from the things I have suffered is the principal cause of its publication. The repeated instances ot my de- liver?i.^p from threatened death, in which the finger of bod wtM 7-^ible, -all for the deepest gratitude, and have made an ,.nprvc-^io,u upon my mind' which I trust will remain as long ae tbe powers of my recollection shall endure. I was sensible CAPTIVITr OF ZAUUCK BtEKLK. m \t might aldo furnish a lesson of instruction to my fellow-men and to future generations duly to prize the privileges and blessings they may enjoy, by observing the dreadful contrast which is brought to view in this narrative. Desirable, however, as it might be, I had long since relik. ■ quished ail idea of ever seeing an account of my sufferings in print. But by the earnest solicitations and friendly though fiecble assistance of others, I have thought fit at this late pe- riod of my life, yet with humble deference to the good sense of an enlightened public, to give a short narrative of what I have endured in common with many of my fellow-men who wei-e my fellow-prisoners. Among the evils resulting from the destruction of Uoynl- ton, my own captivity was far from being the least. That event was the precursor of all ray sorrows — the fountain from which sprung streams of wretchedness and want. Nor will the channel be forgotten, though the raging flood cease to roll. As small streams are swallowed up by larger ones, 60 many serious and sore trials are doubtless lost in that dread- ful current of distress through which I was cjUled to pass. The attention of the reader is, however, requested to a simple statement of facts, as they occur to ray mind, while I relate the circumstances of my captivity by the Indians, the treatment I received from them, my privations while a pris- oner to the British, my wonderful escape from their hands, and extreme sufferings in the wilderness on my way home. Truth will not easily permit, nor have 1 any desire, to enlarge or exaggerate upon the things I suffered. Guided by the principles of justice, and wishing no ill to any man or set of men, I hope I shall not be found disposed to calumniate or reproach. It is not my intention to speak of any individual or nation with less respect than is due to their true character and conduct. I shall, however, be under the necessity of noticing many 212 INDIAN NAREATIVE8. cruelties that were inflicted upon the prisoners, by men who enjoyed the advantages of civilization, which were sumcient to put the rudest savage to the blush. But the long lapse of time and the effects of old age have, no doubt, blotted from my memory incidents which would have been no less, and perhaps more, interesting and instructive than many circumstances which I shall be able to recollect. This, together with the inexperience of the writer, must be the only apology for the imperfections of the following pages. In April, 1780, being in my twenty-second year, I started from my father's house in Ellington, leaving all my friends and relatives, and came to Randolph, in the State of Vermont, a town south of Brookfield, a distance of nearly two hundred miles. I there purchased a right of land, lying in the north part of the town, on which was a log house and a little im- provement. Suffering the privations and hardships common to those who dwell in new countries, I spent the summer in diligent labor, subsisting upon rather coarse fare, and sup- ported by the fond hopes of soon experiencing better days. The young man who drove my team from Connecticut, with provisions, farming utensils, &c., labored with me through the summer and fall seasons till October, when he returned to Ellington just in time to escape the danger of being taken by the Indians. A small settlement had commenced in the south-wester- ly part of Randolph, on the third branch of White River, about six miles from my own. A little settlement had also commenced on the second branch of the same river in Brookfield, in the easterly part of the cown, and at about an equal distance from my abode. As there were in Randolph a number of famiHes situated in different parts of the town, and our country being engaged in a war, which rendered our frontier settlements exposed to the ravages of an exasperated foe, we had taken the necessary precaution to establish alarm posts, by which we miffht annonnnw tn f^aoh nthar tb« ovx^^ u of an enemy. 1 I CAPTIVITy OP ZADOOK STEELE. 2J8 But our Brookfield brethren, though in a town adjoin- .ng. were beyond the hearing of the report of our alarm th^lJl^" l^^h of October we were apprised of the arrival of dojph. They entered that town on the morning of the 16th and were committing ravages, taking and killing the inhab-' itants, gpanng the lives of none whom they could overtake in an attempt to escape, destroying property, burning all the bu.ldmgs that they discovered, killing the cattle, pilirging the houses, and taking captives. -^^^'S me fy.l\T ^?""'"t '^"^ ^""^^ ^""°^^ "P '^'^''' the second or thud branch on their return to Canada, as these two branches run to the south and nearly parallel to each other ; the former lle'r It""'?' ''"'"" "*' '^' "^'^' ^^ ^^^^^^O"' -"d the latter a few miles west. a^szstmg he settlers on the third branch in RandoJpL to move thezr famines and effects into the woods such a distance a! • was thought would render them safe, should the Indians pur- sue that stream up on their return. I then requested that some one of them should accompany me to go and notify the Brookfield settlers of their danger alone. I had only time to arrive at my own dwelling, which was on my direct course, before I was overtaken by the ap- proach of night. As there was no road and nofhin. but marked trees to guide my way, I tarried all night. Klvinc prepared some food for breakfast I lay down to sleep, littb knowing what awaited my waking hours. At the dawn of day on the morning of the 17th I set out to prosecute the object for which I started, though in a violent tempest, at- tend.! with snow. I had not proceeded far before the storm gieatly increased, which I found would not only much en- aangermy life, but go retard mv nrnar^=a ths* t ...-,^ _.. 214 INDIAN NARRATIVES. arrive in time seasonably to warn my friends of their danger or escape myself from the hands of the enemy should they follow the second branch instead of the third. I therefore returned to my house. Soon after I arrived within doors, filled with anxiety for the unsuspecting inhabitants of Brook- field, I heard a shocking cry in the surrounding woods ; and, trembling for my own safety. I ran to the door, when, to my utter astonishment, and the reader may judge my feelings, I beheld a company of Indians, consisting of not less than three hundred in number, not ten rods distant, approaching with hideous cries and frightful yells ! •♦ O how unlike the chorus of the skies ! " There was no way of escape. I had only to stand still, wait their approach, and receive my miserable destiny. In- deed, I could now say with David, " The sorrows of death compassed me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid." I had nowhere to flee but to the " great Preserver of men, who was my only hiding-place," " my goodness and my fortress, my high tower and my deliverer, my shield, and he in whom I trust." " They came upon me as a wide breaking of waters ; in the desolation they rolled themselves upon me." Their leader came up and to'd me I must go with them. They asked me if any other persons were to be found near that place. I told them it was probable there were none to be found. They then inquired if any cattle were near ; to which lanswered in the negative. ' But they seemed to choose rather to take the trouble to search than to confide in what I told them. After taking every thing they found worthy to carry with them, and destroying all that was not likely to sutler injury by fire, they set the house on tire and marched on. One of them took a bag of grass seed upon his back, and, cutting a hole in the bag, scattered the seed as he marched, which took CAPTIVITr OF ZADOCK STEELE. 215 root stocked the ground, and was for many years a sad me- mento ot my long captivity. The chief who came up to me could talk English very well which was a circumstance much in my favor, us he became' ny master under wJnch name I shall have frequent occasion to speak of Inm in the course of this narrative. They took all my clothes, not excepting the best I had on, and distnbuted them amongst themselves. They, however, furmshed me with blankets sufficient to defend me against the cold, but deprived me of my own property ; the bitter con- sequences of which I felt in my subsequent confinement with R^dofh ^""^ """ "'^ ''^"'" ^"^ '^'""'' ™^ settlement at The Indians had encamped the night preceding on the sec ond branch m Randolph, on which the Brookfield settlers • hved, and not more than ten miles below them, but during the n.ght had been put to rout by a party of Americans, con! sistmg of about two hundred and fifty in number, who were commanded by Colonel John House, of Hanover, New Hamp- shire. To make their escape, they left the stream and took a course which brought them directly to my dwelling. Had they not been molested, but permitted to pursue their intended course up the stream, the defenceless inhabitants of Brookfield would doubtless have shared the miserable fate of the inhabitants of Royalton, themselves taken prisoners, and doomed to suffer a long and wretched captivity, and their property destroyed by tJie devouring element. This preven- tion, which, however, was the cause of my captivity, the sub- ject of the following narrative, was probably the only good that Colonel H. effected ; and this he did unwittingly, for which he can claim no thanks. Soon after we started from my house my master, who was the principal conductor and chief of the whole tribe, discov- ered that I had a pair of silver buckles in my shoes, and at- tempted to take them from me; but, by promising to let him 216 INDIAN NARRATlVEa. have them when we arrived at our journey's end, I persuaded hinj to let me keep them. But we had not travelled far be- fore another Indian espied them, and crying out, '■'Wah ston- dormn!" (Ah, there's silver ! ) took them from me, and fui-- nished me with strings for my shoes as substitutes. We travelled the firsf day to Berlin and encamped on Dog River, not many miles from the place where Montpelier vil- lage now stands. They built a fire of some rods in length,* to which opportunity was afforded for all to approach. They then placed sentinels around, which rendered it impossible for any one to move unnoticed. But this precaution was not sufficient to satisfy their minds to prevent the escape of their captive prisoners. Therefore, to render our escape less easy to be effected, as we lay down upon the ground they tied a rope around our bodies, and, extending it each way, the In- dians laid upon it on our right and on our left, not suffering any two prisoners to lie next each other. I could, however, crawl so far out of the rope as to be able to sit upright, but always found some of the Indians sitting up, either to prepare their clothing for the following day's march, or intentionally to set as additional guards ; and I never found the favored moment when all Avere at rest. Ad they had told me before we encamped that if they were overtaken by the Americans they should kill every prisoner, I felt the more anxious to make njy escape ; and they seemed, in view of their danger, more desirous to keep us within reach of the tomahawk, and secure us against a flight in case the Americans should approach. I watched with trembling- fear and anxious expectation during the night we lay at Ber- lin, seeking an opportunity to escape, which I found utterly impossible, and looking every moment for the arrival of a company of Americans, whose approach I was assured would be attended with death to every prisoner. They compelled many of the prisoners to carry their packs, enormous in size mid extremely heavy, as they were filled ersuaded d far bf- Vah ston- and fux'- . on Dog lelier vil- 1 length,* I. They npossible I was not ! of their less easy ey tied a ^, the In- suffering however, right, but » prepare ntionally i favored bey were prisoner, r seemed, IS within it in case rembling ? at Ber- \ utterly ival of a ed would ;ir packs, ere filled CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 217 With the plunder of pillaged houses and every thing which attracted their curiosity or desire to possess. Looking glasses, which by the intention or carelessness of the prisoners became broken in a short time, pots, spiders, frying pans, and old side saddles, which were sold on their arrival at St. John's for one dollar, composed a part of their invaluable baggage. On the morning of the 18th they first ordered me to eat my breakfast, urging me to eat as much as I wanted ; while on account of the loss of their provisions at Randolph, they had scarce half an allowance for themselves. I knew not whether to attribute this conduct to their feelings of charity and generosity, a desire to secure my friendship, or a wish to preserve my life under a prospect of procuring gain, or to some other cause. Indeed, they seemed at all times to be willing to "feed the hungry," not even seeing one of the prisoners leisurely pick a berry by the way, as they passed along, without offering them food, considering this as a token of our hunger. Their food, however, was very unsavory, insomuch that nothing but extreme hunger would have induced me to eat of It, though I always had a share of their best. Habituated to a partial covering themselves and excited by curiosity, they took from me all my best clothes, and gave me blankets in exchange. They often travelled with the utmost celerity ni their power to try my activity, viewing me with iooks of complacency to find me able to keep pace with them. We this day passed down Dog River till we came to Onion Kiver, into which the former empties itself, and then kept the course of the latter during the day, steering nearly a north- west direction. At night we came to a very steep mountain, winch was extremely difficult of access, not far from the place now called Bolton, in the county of Chittenden. Upon the top of this mountain the Indians, on their way to Royalton had secreted a number of bags of fine flour which they brought with them from Canada, and now regained. This greatiy re- 19 ."^ -^ -m INDIAN NARRATIVBli. plenished their stores, and afforded a full supply of wholesome bread. The manner of making their bread is curious, and exhibits useful instruction to those who may be called to make their bread in the wilderness without enjoying the privilege of household furniture. They took their dough, wound it around a stick in the form of a screw, stuck it into the ground by the fire, and thus baked their bread, without receiving injury by the smoke or rendering it more filthy than it came from their hands. Their fear that they should be overtaken by the Ameri- cans had by this time greatly abated, and this was considered by the prisoners grounds for less apprehension of the danger of being put to death by the Indians. Till now, however, it is beyond the power of language to express, nor can imagina- tion paint, the feelings of my heart, when, torn from my friends and all I held dear on earth, compelled to roam the wilderness to unknown parts, obliged to ford rivers, and then lie down at night upon the cold ground with scarcely a dry thread in my clothes, having a rope fastened around my body, surrounded by a tribe of savage Indians, from whose very friendship I could expect nothing but wretchedness and misery, and whose brutal rage would be sure to prove my death. Nor was this rage only liable to be excited by a sense ot real danger, but, from conscious guilt, equally liable to be put in force by the most slight, false, and trifling alarm. «' 'Tis a prime part of happiness to know How much unhappiness must prove our lot — A part which few possess." On the fourth day we arrived at Lake Champlain. We here found some bateaux, in which the Indians had conveyed themselves thither on their way to Royalton. On their arri- val at the lake, and regaining their bateaux, they gave a -u-^i of exultation and laughter, manifesting their joy and triumph. CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 219 My master, who was about to take a different route from the rest of the tribe, took me aside, and, in a dissembling tone, •told me with great professions of friendship, with little credit, however, that I had better take off" my coat and let him have It, for which he would give me a blanket in exchange, assur- ing me that the Indians would take it from me if I did not do it. Dreading the consequences of a refusal more than the loss of the coat, 1 let him have it, and received a blanket in return. We crossed over and encamped on Grand Isle that night. The next morning we reembarked in our bateaux, and safely landed at the Isle Aux Noix before night. Here the Indians found a supply of rum, which gave them an opportu- nity to make market for a part of their plunder and satiate their thirst. Nor, indeed, was the opportunity unimproved. In-itated by the force of intoxication, they were all in confu- sion : savage yells and shrill outcries filled the surrounding atmosphere, and death seemed to stare every captive full in the face. " So sung Philander, as a friend went round In the rich ichor, in the generous blood Of Bacchus, purple god of joyous wit." At length, however, their senses became drowned in the tor- rent of inebriety ; they sank into a helpless state, and reposed in the arms of insensibility. As we had now arrived within the dominions of the British, and were not only guarded by a number of the Indians who were not under the power of in- toxication, but watched by the enemy's subjects resident at that place, we could find no opportunity to make our escape. The next morning, which was the sixth day of our march, we started for St. John's, and arrived there that day. At this place, likewise, the Indians found a plenty of ardent spirits, by a too free use of which they became more enraged, if pos- sible, than before. They now began to threaten the lives of all the captives ......^m 220 INDIAN NARRATIVES. whose faces were not painted, as the face being painted was a dirttinguishing mark put upon those whom they designed not to kill. As I was not painted, one of the Indians, under the influ- 2nce of intoxication and brutal rage, like many white people, more sagacious than humane, came up to me, and, pointing a gun directly at my head, cocked it, and was about to fire, when an old Indian, who was my new master, knocked it aside, pushed him backwards upon the ground, and took a bottle of rum, and, putting it to his mouth, turned down his throat a considerable quantity, left him, and went on. The punishment seemed in no way to displease the crim- inal : he wished he would continue to punish him through the day in the same manner ; regarding the momentary gratifica- tion of appetite more than all other blessings of life, or even life itself. They now procured some paint and painted my face, which greatly appeased the rage of those who, before, had been ap- parently determined to take my life. I now received their marks of friendship, nor felt myself in danger of becoming the subject of their fatal enmity. Clothed with an Indian blanket, with my hands and my face painted, and possessing activity equal to any of them, they appeared to be willing I should live with them and be accounted as one of their number. We arrived at Caghnewaga on the seventh day of our march. Thus I found myself, within the space of seven days, removed from my home and from all my relatives the dis- tance of about three hundred miles, almost destitute of cloth- ing, entirely without money, with no other associates than a race of sa\age Indians, whose language I could not under- stand, whose diet was unsavory and unwholesome, whose " ten- .der mercies are cruel," barbarism their civility, no pardon to an enemy their established creed, and presented with no other prospect for the future than a captivity for hfe, a final sep- aration from all earthly friends, and situated in an enemy's country. CAPTlVltY OF ZAbOCK STEELE. 221 Itt short, siripped of every comfort that sweetens life ex- cept the "one thing needful, which the world can neither give nor take away," my temporal prospects were banished and lost fi rever. No earthly friends to administer consolation or with tvhom to sympathize, nor hope of escape to feed upon, truly, humble submission to the will of Heaven, and an entire " trust in the Lord," was the only balm afforded me. " A soul prepared for such a state as this Ib heir expectant to immortal bliss." Some days after we arrived at Caghnewaga, an old man by the name of Philips, whose silver locks bespoke the experi- ence of many winters ; whose visage indicated the trials, sor- rows, and afflictions of a long and wretched captivity ; whose Wrinkled face and withered hands witnessed the sufferings of many hardships, and presented to me a solemn and awful token of what I myself might expect to suffer,— came and told me that I was about to be adopted into one of the Indian fam- ilies, to fill the place of one whom they had lost on their expedition to Royalton. M:-. Philips was taken prisoner in the western part of the f?:ate of New York, by the Indians, in his youthful days, and, -fy» been adapted into one of their families, had always •ith them. He had retained his knowledge of the I- '^nguage, and served as an interpreter for the tribe. '^ - ceremonyof my own adoption, as well as that of many other of the prisoners, afforded no small degree of diversion. The scene presented to view a spectacle of an assemblage of barbarism assuming the appearance of civilization. AH the Indians, both male and female, together with the prisoners, assembled and formed a circle, within which one of their chiefs, standing upon a stage erected for the purpose, harangued the audience in the Indian tongue. Although I could not understand his language, yet I could plain ly°dls- cover a great share of native elonuenc«. Hi« an^Anh «.«» «f 19* 222 INDIAN NARRATIVES. considerable length, and its effect obviously manifested weight of argument, solemnity of thought, and at least human sensi- bility. I was placed near by his side, and had a fair view of the whole circle. After he had ended his speech an old squaw came and took me by the hand and led me to her wig- wam, where she dressed me in a red coat, with a ruffle in my bosom, and ordered me to call her mother. She could speak English tolerably well; but was very poor, and therefore una- ble to furnish me with very sumptuous fare. My food was rather beneath a savage mediocrity ; though no doubt my new mother endeavored as far as lay in her power to endear the affections of her newly-adopted yet ill-natured son. I found the appellation of mother highly pleased the tawny jade, which proportionably mcreased my disgust, already in- tolerable ; and, instead of producing contentment of mind, added disquietude to affliction and sorrow. As I was blefised with an excellent voice for singing, I was the more beloved by, and, on that account, received much better treatment from, my new mother, as well as from other Indians. I was allowed the privilege of visiting any part of the vil- lage in the daytime, and was received with marks of fraternal affection and treated with all the civility an Indian is capable to bestow. A prisoner, by the name of Belknap, was set about hewmg some poles for a stable floor while his Indian master held them for him. As he hewed, the Indian, sitting upon the pole, suffered it gradually to turn over, though unperceived by him ; which occasioned the workman, who saw its operation, laugh- ing in his sleeves, to hew quite round the stick, in hewing from end to end. Thinking that Belknap knew no better, the Indian endeavored to instruct him. After trying several poles with the same success, the Indian, filled with impatience for this untractable pupil, with his eyes on fire, left him and called hi« interpreter to make his wishes more distinctly known ; to CAPTIVITV OF ZAUOCK 8TKKLE. 933 weight 1 sensi- view of an old ler wig- e in my Id speak ire una- bod was my new dear the le tawny eady in- )f mind, ig, I was >d much )m other I the vil- fraternal 3 capable It hewing ster held the pole, i by him ; )n, laugh- n hewing tetter, the eral poles itience for and called ;nown; to whom Belknap declared, that he did well underafand the wishes of the Indian, and was determined to avoid doing his will. After remaining in this condition n few weeks, finding the prisoners very incorrigible, and wishing for the reward they might obtain for them, information was given the prisoners that they might be delivered over to the British at Montreal as prisoners of war, or continue with the Indians, as they should choose. We sought the advice of an English gentleman, by the name of Stacy, resident in the village of Caghnewaga, who had married a squaw for his wife, and was extensively ac- quainted, not only with the affairs of the Indians, but with the citizens of Montreal. He appeared to be a man of integrity an^ veracity, was employed in merchandise, and also served as one of their interpreters. I was advised by Mr. Stacy to be delivered into the hands of the British. He said I might doubtless obtain leave to dwell in some family of a private gentleman until I should be exchanged. Encouraged by the prospect of enjoying the company of civilized people, and flattered with the idea of being soon ex- changed, and thereby enabled to return once more to see my friends in Connecticut, I made choice to be given up to the British. All the captives did likewise. We were all conducted to Montreal, by the Indians, in the latter part of November, 1780, and there "sold for a half joe " each. Most of the captives were young, and remarka- bly robust, healthy, and vigorous. I was now almost twenty- two years of age. To be compelled to spend the vigor of my days in useless confinement was a source of grief and pain to my mind ; but I could see no way of escape. The wisdom of God I found to be unsearchable indeed. I felt, however a good degree of submission to the providence of the Most High, and a willingness to " accept of the punishment of mine iniquities." 224 INDIAN NAftRATIVES. We found at the city of Montreal about one hundred and ieventy prisoners, Bome of whom were made captives by the Indians in different parts of America, and others had been taken prisoners of war in forts by capitulation and by con- quest. Here we could see women and children, who had fallen the victims of savage captivity, weeping and mourning their fate, whose tears, trickling down their cheeks, bespoke the language of their hearts. It was enough to melt the heart of stone with grief to behold the bosoms of the " poor widows " heaving with sighs and to hear their groans } while the com- panions of their youth, their bosom friends and partners in life, were no more, having spilled their blood and laid down their lives in defence of their country, their families, and their firesides. Here I beheld the orphan, fatherless and motherless, whose tender age called for compassion and required the kind pro- tection of an affectionate mother, whose infantile mind ren- dered it incapable of telling its name, the place of its birth, or giving any information respecting itself or its parents. This led me to consider my own sufferings comparatively small ; and a sense of my own wretched condition became lost in the feelings of compassion for these unhappy widows and orphans. We were put into a large building, culled the Old Regal Church, with the other prisoners, in which we were kept several days, when we were removed into a large stone build- ing, fitted up for the purpose, in the suburbs of the city, upon the shore of the River St. Lawrence. I often made application for liberty to take quarters in the family of some private gentleman, where I might enjoy the advantages of a common slave until I should be able to pro- cure a ransom or be exchanged, urging the manner of my being taken and my destitute situation as arguments in my favor, having been stripped of all my property by the Indians and deprived of all ray change of clothes. But all my efforts CAl'TIVIXr OV 2AD0CK 8TKKLE. 2S6 dred and !s by the lad been I by con- who had nourning , bespoke the heart widows " the com- I'tnera in aid down and their ss, whose kind pro- jind ren- itd birth, ;nt8. aratively ;arae lost lows and Id Regal ere kept ne build- ity, upon irs in the jnjoy the le to pro- er of my ts in my i Indians ly efforts proved only a witness to myself and my fdlow-snfferers of that denthoss to the- calls of hm.uu.ity which is always the characttM-istic of tyranny and despotism. Many of the prisoners as well as myself had only one shirt, and were obliged to go without any while we washed that. Indolence and disrcgani for cleanliness prevented many from doing this, which may be reckoned among the many causes that brought our subsequ.'nt evils upon us. We were allowed, or rather said to be allowed, one pound of bread and one pound of fresh beef per diry. But, through the injustice and dishonesty of the person who dealt out our allowance, we were robbed even of a part of this humble pittance. Had we been able to obtain our full allowance in provisions of good quality, we should have been able to have furnished ourselves with other necessary articles ; but now we were deprived of the privilege by the curtailment of our rations. We were obliged by the calls of hunger to pound up the beef bones, which composed no small share of our rations of meat, and boil them for broth. We had no butter, cheese, flour, nor any kind of sauce during the winter. We were kept almost to- tally without firewood, having scarcely enough to enable us to cook our meat. Our beds consisted principally of blan- kets, which they brought from the hospital in all their filth. This was an apparent manifestation of their disregard at least for the prisoners, if not a malevolent design to introduce that contagion which should spread disease, desolation, and death throughout our camp. Pinched with hunger, half naked, and chilled with the cold, we were forced to have recourse to our beds, and occupy them a great part of the time, though they were the habitations of filthy vermin, tainted with the infections of mortal distempers, and scented with the nauseous smell of the dying and the dead. The complicated collection of people of different habits, comprising almost every kind of foul and vicious character, Vin INDIAN NARRATIVES, and the combination of so many events either of which should seem alone suflicient to create disease, caused a general and universal prevalence of the itch. Our close confinement was, to some of the prisoners, a source of grief; to others a cloak of indulgence in laziness; while to all it was the mother of disease, the harbinger of pain. We suffered so much with hunger that we should have thankfully " fed upon the crums that fell from the rich man's table;" and so great were our afflictions that we should have gladly caressed the " dog that had come and licked our sores." While I was a captive with the Indians I was in sorrow, and " desired a better country." And I had not experienced the "trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, of bonds and imprisonment," sufficiently to enable me to say with Paul, " I have learned in whatsoever state I am therewith to be con- tent." When we were put into the hands of the Brit sh « we looked for peace, but no good came ; and for a time of health, and beheld trouble." Indeed, it may justly be said of them, "They turned the needy out of the way; they caused the naked to lodge without clothing, that they have no cover- ing in the cold ; they pluck the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge of the poor ; they cause him to go naked without clothing, and they take away the sheaf from the hun- gry." (Job xxiv. 4-7, 10.) I pleaded that they would "make me as one of their hired servants ; " but they would not. In the spring, after being " brought low, through oppres- sion, affliction, and sorrow," we were supplied with salt pork, bread, oatmeal, and peas in abundance. As we had long been almost starved, our avidity for the food which was now before us may more easily be imagined than described. Let it suffice us to say, that none ate sparingly, but all greedily. Indeed, some seemed not only anxious to satisfy hunger, but determined to revenge for their past sufferings. This sudden repletion of our wants produced the scurvy among the pris- lich should eneral and risonera, a 1 laziness; irbinger of lould have rich man's hould have our sores." in sorrow, xperienced bonds and :h Paul, " I to be con- the Brit sh ir a time of T be said of they caused e no cover- the breast, o go naked )m the hun- ould " make lid not. ]gh oppres- ti salt pork, 'e had long ich was now iribed. Let ill greedily. hunger, but This sudden ing the pris" OAPTlVnr OK ZADOCK STKELE. w oners, which tlireatened death to every one. Reiterated sighs and dying groans now filled our camp. To such an alarming degree did this dreadful disease pre- vail that many were obliged to be removed to the hospital for relief; distress and anguish pervaded the whole body of the prisoners ; and the citizens of Montreal, alarmed, perhaps, for their own safety, seemed to feel anxious for our relief. But justice requires I should state that we received at this time all that kind attention which was due to our wretched condition and every favor in the power of our keepers to be- stow ; while the inhabitants manifested a humane disposition, and displayed the generous feelings of pity and tender com- passion. In short, conscious that they, in truth, had all par- tially contributed to increase our miseries, they seemed to feel a relenting for their past misconduct, which excited them to use their utmost exertion to exonerate themselves from guilt by their subsequent good offices for our relief. They furnished us with green herbs and every thing which was adapted to our disorders or calculated for our comfort and recovery. By these means our health was fully restored, gratitude and joy sat smiling on every countenance, and songs of deliverance dwelt on every tongue. Pain now gave place to pleasure, sorrow fled as happiness aj)proached, murmurs and complaints which had long been the universal cry now were heard no more, and quietude was felt in every breast. After our recovery we were allowed the privilege of a yard, of some rods square in extent, by which we were enabled to exercise for the preservation of our health. But at length some of the prisoners made their escape, which occasioned all the rest to be put into close confinement and kept under lock and key. We were supplied, however, with all the com- forts of life, so far as our close confinement would permit. In October, 1781, all the prisoners were removed to an island in the River St. Lawrence, called Prison Island, about J _,„ ..i.sfr,:, au\3t\i use ciijr ui J.uuutrt;ui, iXiXi^ opposite IQ 228 1N1>1AN NAKKATIVES. a place called Cateau du Lac. Here we were furnished with a full supply of wholesome food during our confinement on the island. This island is situated a little below the Lake St. Francis, which is formed by a large swell in the River St. Lawrence, and was considered a very eligible place for the confinement of the prisoners. Indeed, it was thought impossible that any person destitute of boats should be able to escape without being drowned, as the water ran with the utmost velocity on each side of the island. We were, therefore, allowed the liberty of traversing the whole island, which contained about twenty acres. Guarded by a company of refugees and tories possessing as little humanity as ^/atriotisra, and having long been the miserable sufferers of a wretched captivity and painful impris- onment, many of the prisoners attempted to make their escape by swimming down the current the distance of three miles. But few succeeded, while some were drowned in the hazard- ous attempt. The captain of the guard, whose name was M' Daniel, was a tory, and as totally devoid of humanity and generosity as the Arab who traverses the deserts of Africa. His conduct towards the prisoners was such as ought to stamp his character with infamy and disgrace. Cruelty to the pris- oners seemed to be his greatest delight. I once saw one of the prisoners plunge into the river in the daytime and swim down the current the distance of three miles, but was discov- ered by M'Daniel soon after he started, who ordered him to be shot before he should ever reach shore ; but a British soldier, possessing more humanity than his commander, waded into the river and took hold of the trembling prisoner, almost ex- hausted, declaring, " if the prisoner was shot, he would be likewise." The malignant disposition of M'Daniel and the invidious character of the guard induced the prisoners to seek oppor- i zj. 1 — ~.c^^„t- nlrnr^af (^trafv Aartrrof t{\ pffpnf fViPir pannnft. CAPTIVIXr OF ZADOClt STEKLE, 229 But time soon rolled away, till winter approached, without bringing to our view that propitious moment which could afibrd the slightest hope of success in the attempt. On . the one hand, the eye of an implacable foe was upon us, with ran- cor, malice, and revenge in his bosom, and the implements of destruction in his hand • and on the other, the rapid current of the stream threatened us with death if we approached ; while the foaming billows, roaring in a voice like thunder, bade us beware. Desperate, indeed, must be the attempt for any one know- ingly to plunge himself into the jaws of death to escape from trouble. At the approach of winter, the ice below the island rendered it visibly and utterly impossible to escape alive. We were, therefore, now forced into submission, and had only to consult together upon those measures which should be most likely to promote our own happiness while we waited the return of spring. In January we were ordered by M'Daniel to shovel the snow for a path, in which the guard were to travel while on their duty. Regarding the proverb of Solomon as worthy of our notice, that " it is an honor for a man to cease from strife," we com- plied with the demand, thus sacrificing our rights on the altar of peace. But now, finding by ocular demonstration the verity of a like proverb of the same wise man, that " every fool will be meddling," we unanimously agreed to disobey all similar orders and every command which should be after- wards given contrary to right. We were not insensible that the prisoner, though unable to defend, was possessed of certain inalienable rights, which we resolved to assert, and refuse obedience to the tyrant who should attempt to encroach upon them. The time soon arrived when duty called us boldly to assert our rights, and manly firmness forbade submission. Vfe were again commanded by M'Daniel to shovel the 90 2S0 INDIAN NARKATIVKS. snow, to make a path for the guard to ti-avel in ; while they themselves had nothing to do but to wait our toil. Disdain- ing to become slaves, we had universally determined to reject their unauthorized servitude. I therefore informed the in- famous M'Daniel what was our unanimous resolution, and told him I feared less what he should dare to do than I did the consequences of yielding to the lawless requisitions of a petty tyrant. Enraged at the opposition of the prisoners to his arbitrary commands, and more highly exasperated against me as the organ, he directed me to be put in irons and carried to the guard house. After uttering the most dreadful threats and horrid imprecations, and finding I v/as not easily terrified nor readily forced to abandon my rights, he carried his order into execution, took me to the guard house, put me in irons, and kept me there during the whole day till night, when he came and repeated his threats of torture and death in case I continued to refuse compliance. But still finding me unmoved in my determination, and that " hatred stirreth up strifes," he ordered me to be kept in irons till nine o'clock at night with- out food and then sent back to my barrack. This was accordingly done, though some Dutchmen, ter- rified at my fate, consented to his requirements and performed the service while I was confined in the guard house. In con- sequence of our refusal to comply with his unjust and illegal demands, the most severe punishments and barbarous cruel- ties were inflicted upon the prisoners. " To revenge upon," he said, " no prisoner should be al- lowed to have a fire another night while they remained on the island." Accordingly the guard came into our barracks every night with large quantities of snow and put out all the fires, using as much caution not to leave a spark unquenched as though the lives of thousands and the wealth of a metropolis were at stake. "Though speii, wo labor to believe it true." CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 231 What malice is manifest in the breasts of those who labor With diligence and toil with pain to increase the misery of those who are already wretched and groaning in sorrow! Here we beheld the depravity of man. Here we could see the fulfilment of that passage of holy writ which declares that, ''because sentence against an evil work is not executed speed- ily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." Here we could behold a full display of the seven abomina- tions in the sight of God : " A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, a false witness that speaketh lies, and him that soweth discord among brethren." (Prov. vi. 16, &c.) Here we could see monsters in human shape feeding upon revenge ; for the labor which they unjustly required of us was not a tenth part of what they performed every night by putting out our fires to punish us for non-compliance with their tyrannical demands. But, possessing the spirit of freemen, we "chose rather to suffer affliction" than to become the slaves of a set of despicable refugees and tories, feeling as- sured that our affliction would afford us more consolation in the hour of reflection than could be found in a servitude im- posed upon us by an infamous renegado. As our barracks were very cold and open, and being scan- tily clothed, we suffered greatly for want of fire, to support which we were willing to get wood ourselves. But our keep- ers chose rather to suffer pain themselves than to permit us to enjoy comfort. M'Daniel, however, was called away, and succeeded by one M'Kelpin in command. He was also a refugee, the son of a tory, and had the appearance of a raw boy not more than eighteen or nineteen years old, whose very visage portended evil and bade the prisoners prepare for trouble. His father, he said, had received very ill treatment from 232 INDIAN NARRATIVES. ■■11 ■I the American army, and he had also shared with his father in the abuse for not engaging in the rebellion against the British government. As " the rod is for the back of him that is \ oid of understanding," we doubted ^-^ the truth cf his statement, nor felt disposed to question bi e received very severe treatment, and more especially en the station in which he was found was taken into consideration ; for tiiis, together with the littleness of his mind and the malignity of his tem- per, will forever prove his want of patriotism and stamp his indignant character with infamy and disgrace as long as evil shall be had in remembrance. His immature age can be no palliation of his crimes, nor admit of much hope of his reformation by repentance ; for, like all other fools, " he hated knowledge, and was wise in his own conceit." Inheriting from his father all the qualities of a knave, and the cowardice of a western savage, who looks for security from danger in his own flight only or in the strength of his allies, he perverted the power put into his hands to do good ; used it as a weapon of revenge and an instrument of cruelty. His paternal education was, at the best, toryism, perfectly congenial to his natural disposition. In short, " he was wise to do evil ; but to do good he had no knowledge." His first steps towards tyranny and oppression met no oppo- sition ; as we wished to enjoy peace, and were willing to yield a portion of our rights to the enjoyment of so invaluable a blessing. But our indulgence served only to stimulate him in the course of revengeful tyranny; and he seemed the more angry, as if " coals of fire were heaped upon his head." Manifesting a desire to meet with opposition, by using every exertion to provoke to rage, he ordered the prisoners to shovel the snow from the door of his own house. As the prisoners discovered in him a settled determination to pursue compli- ance with greater and more grievous burdens until he could meet a refusal to comply, we resolved to reject all further en- croachments upon our rights. We therefore refused to obey CAPTIVITY OF 2AD0CK STEELE. 23a either in ' British t is ^ oid atement, y severe n which together his tera- ;amp his r as evil imes, nor nee ; for, ise in his ilities of looks for strength ids to do jment of toryism, ihort, " he owledge." no oppo- g to yield aluable a ulate him I the more ad." sing every s to shovel prisoners le compli- l he could [urtlier en- 2d to obey Ins arbitraiy commands any longer. As there was a fort di- rectly opposite the island where a company of soldiers were stationed, we feared the consequences of a revolt, and could only retuse our obedience without making any actual resist- ance. The prisoner to whom he addressed himself possessed courage equal to the most trying scene, and, choosing rather to suffer an honorable death in defence of his rights than to endure an ignominious life of captive slavery, he met the in- famous M'Kelpiu with firmness and intrepidity, although he had no prospects of any thing but to endure extreme torture, it not death itself. And this he was the more inclined to do, since it was the avowcul object of the infamous villain " to wreak his vengeance upon the unhappy prisoners for injuries," which he said he had received from men who were entire strangers to us, and in which abuse he well knew we took no agency or even had any knowledge. When the prisoner refused compliance, M'Kelpin came up with a bayonet pointing directly at him, and thrust it within a few inches of his breast, threatening to run him through the heart if he did not immediately comply. But the pris- oner, continuing firm in his obstinacy, replied with dauntless courage and deliberate coolness. " Run me through if you dare ; I fear you not." Enraged at this reply, M'Kelpin re- peated his threats with reih ubled vehemence and infuriated madness, and again rushed at the prisoner with the greatest violence, thus endeavoring to terrify him into submission to his will. But the prisoner, with all the appearance of a full sense of der th and supported by the rectitude of his moti.es, met M'Kelpin with manly firmness and true heroism, putting his hand upon his breast, and telling the impertinent fugitive that "he had resolved to die before he should yield obedi- ence to the arbitrary command.-; of one whose name was sy- nonymous with disgrace, and whose very visage bespoke the corruptions of a heart loaded with every thin^^ that is requi- site to fit a soul to become an inhabitant of (he regions of •20* ' 284 INDIAN NARUATIVKS. I Mackness and darkni^s* forever." Alivr relocating \m threats and menaces several times, and each time receivmg the most unqualifted denials from the prisoner, he proceeded to punish all such as refused compliance with his request. He associ- ated with threats the most daring oaths and awful impreca- tions, as if he would endeavor to establish his own authority by manifesting to the world his want of the fear of God and a disregard of every thing that is good. Like many of the present day, he appeared to imagine that he should be thought to possess uncommon courage and power unlimited if he dared, openly and without fear, to blas- pheme the name of Him who is the Ruler of all people, ot every language, tongue, and nation. Finding all his threat- enings in vain, and discovering that no one would yield obe- dience to his requirements, forgetting or disregarding the injustice of his claim, and lost in the torrent of anger and revenge, he came, with a guard of soldiers possessing feelings in perfect coincidence with his own, and took the defenceless yet dauntless prisoner whom he had threatened to run through with his bayonet, conveyed him to the barrack, which was used for an ash house, put him in irons, and left him to sutfer in the cold the malicious gratification of his malignant and revengeful disposition ; telling the innocent and unfortunate victim of his relentless fury that " he was glad he refused to comply with his demands, because he had long wanted and had anxiously sought opportunity to wreak his vengeance on him, and gave the order to shovel the snow from his own door for no other purpose but to excite the opposition of the prisoners, and thus find occasion to punish them, and at the same time take revenge on them for the abuse he had re- ceived from the Americans." He then proceeded to order others to shovel the snow ; and, being still refused compliance, he threatened and confined in the same manner as he did the first, until he had collected together and confined in that cold barrack the number of twenty-one, who were all handcuffed CAPTIVITT OF ZAUOCK STKIXK. 285 and chained to the posts of the harra(;k. This m\n in Janu- ary, 1782, when the cold was exceeding severe, and hardly permitted a comfortable seat by the fireside, or admitted of a lodging free from suffering in our closed barracks with a large quantity of blankets. Here they were ordered to be kept in this barrack, with the windows and doors open to the wind and snow, all that day and the next night. But most of them made their escape to their own barracks before the next morning, some with frozen hands and feet, others with their ears and faces frozen ; and, indeed, all having some part of their bodies frozen, and bear- ing the miserable tokens of their wretched sufferings. But their escape, notwithstanding the visible and abiding marks of their pain and distress, only exasperated the mind of the unfeeling M'Kelpin, and so enraged the desperate vil- lain that he the next day morning selected the same pris- oners, and, with a heart harder than adamant and hands more cruel than the grave, again con"ned them all in irons and or- dered them to be put into the chamber of one of the barracks, there to be kept during that day, the next night, and the fol- lowing day, without provision, any food, or even a quid of tobacco. Destitute of any clothing except their wearing apparel, which was poor ; confined in irons, in a small, cold room ; hav- ing no food of any kind ; deprived of a luxury which habit had rendered necessary to preserve health ; and groaning under the severe pains of their frozen bodies, — their suffer- ings cannot easily be imagined, far less described. It was my happy lot, however, not to fall into this number of miserable sufferers of human depravity who were put into the ash house and in the chamber. But the sufferings which I have mentioned were only a prelude to more painful tor- ments and greater barbarities. They were taken from the barrack chamber one by one, carried to the guard house, and tortured in the most cruel manner. Some were surrounded 236 INDIAN NARRATIVES. H! with soldiers, armed with guns and bayonets pointing directly at them, and so near as to render the prisoners unable to move without being pierced with the bayonets ; while the in- famous M'Kelpin whipped the prisoners and caned them till he had glutted his vengeance. Who can describe the inhu- scene ? To see a prisoner, the victim of cruelty and man wretchedness, guiltless and defenceless, confined in irons with his hands behind him, ready to faint for want of food, groan- ing under the excruciating pains of his frozen limbs, bathed in blood which gushed from his mangled body, tears flowing from his eyes in streams, which bespoke in language more forcible than a voice like thunder, as they trickled down his frozen cheeks, the sorrows of a heart swollen with grief and racked with pain. I could say with Job, " Mine eye is also dim by reason of sorrow, and all my members are as a shadow." Others of this unhappy number were hung up by the neck till nearly dead, while their hands were confined in irons and their faces black with death, when they were taken down, and the irons which had bound their hands jammed into their mouths till they were filled with blood. Who could behold this and not weep and mourn for the depravity of man left to himself? Who can witness a scene like this without ac- knowledging with self-application the truth of those words which fell from our Savior's lips to the unbelieving Jews, " Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do " ? After enduring these horrid barbarities and inhu- man tortures, inflicted by men professing the principles of humanity, the unhappy sufterers were sent back to their bar- racks, there to weep and bewail their miserable fate. Often have my cheeks been wet with tears of commiseration, while my heart ached within. me, for these unfortunate sufferers of the unrestrained vengeance of a depraved villain. Nor was I left to be reminded of their torture and distress only by a recollection of the past ; but my eyes could witness the scars fli CAFTIVlTir OF ZADOCK STEELE. 237 of wounds and behold the palefaced visage of death abiding on the countenance of many, which were received by the cru- elties of this horrid scene. And, alas ! I needed only to look at myself and all around me to remind me of the woful case of those whose lot it. is to fall into the hands and become the victims of a revengeful tyrant, and sufler the wrath of a man totally devoid of mercy, unrestrained either by the authority of a superior, the laws of his country, or the fear of God. Doubtless many will wear the marks, and thus bear witnesn of his cruelty, to their graves. ^ Emaciated countenances, scars, and impediment of speech were the visible marks of the savage and inhuman treatment which they received from the hand of M'Kelpin. Let detes- tation be written upon his character as legibly as the marks of depravity are to be seen in his visage, and it shall be a lesson to his posterity to flee from iniquity and follow the path of virtue. He excelled in nothing but cruelty and inhuman- ity, and was superior to none except in the most nefarious acts of iniquity, tyranny, and oppression. His highest am- bition appeared to be to "heap up wrath against the day of wrath," and prepare himself to receive « vengeance due to them that know not God, and obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be punished with everlasting destruc- tion." He appeared, involuntarily, to verify the truth of the proverb, " He that is soon angry dealeth foolishly ; and a man of wicked devices is hated." Out of the abundance of the heart he publicly declared " that he had taken more comfort in afflicting the prisoners four days than he bad four years' time previous." Thin declaration requires no additional proof to convince every mind susceptible of the least sympathetic affection that he was possessed of no better disposition than the infernal spirits, and must be sufficient to stamp his name with infamy; and, at the same time, excite commiseration in the heart of every person who realizes it is by grace, and not by works, that he is saved from falling into the like wicked- 288 INDIAN NARHATIVES. nesfl. Nor let any man boast of hi» good works, knowing it in the gift of God to possess charity. When we review tins awful tlioufjrh faint description of the conduct of M'Kelpin, who enjoyed the advantages of civ- ilization and was favored witli the joyful tidings of " peace on eartlj and good will towards men," tilled with anger and re- venge, nature cries within us, " Curse the wretch ! " But when the meekness and pity of the Savior in his dying agonies upon the shamefid and accursed tree are suffered to find a pla«; in our bosoms, we are led to cry, with him, " Father, forgive ! " And though the conflict between revenge and for- giving mercy be strong, yet the latter will surely prevail whenever she is properly commanded and led by the Spirit of truth. I would not intimate that I have the power of necromancy, or i)retend to possess a spirit of divination ; but, from the au- thority of holy writ, " this is the portion of a wicked man with God, and the heritage of oppressors, which they shall receive of the Almighty. If his children be multiplied, it is for the sword ; and his offspring shall not be satisfied with bread. Those that remain of him shall be buried in death, and his widows shall not weep. Though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare raiment as the clay, he may prepare it, but the just shall put it on, and the innocent shall divide the sil- ver." I shall therefore leave this great disturber of peace and oppressor of the afflicted to receive from the hand of " Him, who doeth all things well," the punishment due to his wickedness, or share in the mercy offered to the truly peni- tent, hoping that he may have already, by deep repentance, found forgiveness, or will, before his death, if he is yet living, taste the sweetness of redeeming grace. He tarried not long on the island, though much longer than he was desired, when another took his office whose name I do not recollect, who manifested a disposition for peace, es- tablished good order, appeared to have a regard to the laws CAPTIVIXr Ot ZAUOCK UTIiELE. M9 of justice, humanity, and benevolcn*ce, restored tranquillity among the prisoners, and reconciliation between them and the guard. Could I recollect the name of this person, I would present him to the public as a character worthy of imitation ; and as "peacemakers shall be called the children of God," I think I am authorized by the Holy Scriptures to call him by that dig- nifled and honorable title. In the spring, complaint was made to the British provincial government against the base M'Kelpin, which resulted only in his exclusion from the service of the army with disgrace. The long and successful rebellion of the colonies had greatly exasperated the British ; and M'Kelpin, being a strong ad- herent to their government, loyal to his majesty, and having been harshly treated for his toryism, doubtless the court by which he was tried was strongly though unjustly biased in his favor, which greatly ameliorated his punishment. In seedtime we were allowed the privilege to sow 'rarden seeds and plant corn. This gave us a prospect of beiifg fur- nished with not only a mor full supply but a greater variety of food, if It should prove our unhappy lot to be kept in con- finement another winter. It also gave the prisoners an op- portunity to use proper exercise to preserve health and pre- vent disease — a consideration of ^o small importance. But disaffected by our former treatment, and fearing that the afflictions we had once received would again be laid upon us many chose to hazard their lives by an attempt to swim down' the rapids. Some thus succeeded in making their escape while others only plunged themselves into the jaws of death! This caused the confinement of all who were left behind.' The British now set about encompassing our barrack with pickets or barricades, by setting posts in the ground adjoining each other and fastening them together. Discovering what they were about to do, several of the prisoners, among whom I was myself one, resolved to make 240 INDIAN NARHATIVES. I our enrleavors to effect our escape before they had completed the barricade and encircled our camp, which would deprive us of the liberty of the island. "We accordingly collected some logs together on the lower part of the island for a raft, carried some provisions for our sustenance on the way home, secreted it near the logs, and, at an hour when we supposed all were at rest, we started, but had not gone far when we espied one of the soldiers upon the bank of the river em- ployed in dressing some fish. We then retui-ned to our bar- racks.* Our attempt to escape now became known to some of our fellow-prisoners by discovering our absence, who be- trayed our object to our keepers, thus courting favor by the deeds of treachery. Having these suspicions, we improved an opportunity to bring back our provisions ; and the next day gave proof that our suspicions were well founded, as they then went and rolled all the logs off that part of the island. We still were determined to use every exertion and watch for an opportunity to effect our escape from confinement while we saw their labors to prevent us. We sought, but sought in vain. Time rolled away, till we found ourselves enclosed witli pickets, which rendered it almost impossible to make our escape, as we were not allowed to go without this enclosure unattended by the guard, and that, too, in tlie day- time only. We were allowed to go in the daytime, attended by one or two of the guard, and hoe our corn and garden roots. But this afforded us no opportunity for escape, as it was impossi- ble to swim the current on either side of the island undiscov- ered by the guard or the soldiers stationed in the fort oppo- site the island. The prisoners, as may well be supposed, had long been very uneasy and discontented ; but, as is usually the case, a sense of being confined caused still more disquietude in tlieir minds, and excited an eager desire to be freed from bondage. CAPTIVITY OF ZAUOCK STKiaE. 241 The yard which was surrounded by the pickpts was about ten or fifteen rods wide and nearly forty rods long, extending lengthwise of the stream. They completed the yard some time in the month of July, 1782. Having encouragement of receiving our discharge, by exchange, often held out to us, and seeing little prospect of succeeding in the hazardous at- tempt to escape from our confinement, we long waited with great impatience for the approach of that desirable event, aod wholly neglected to use any exertion to gain our liberty by flight. But we at length perceived that their object in giving us repeated encouragement of being exchanged was only to dally us with the fond hopes of soon seeing better days, and thus amuse our minds with fancied prospects, while they should be enabled to rivet our chains or privately assassinate some undistinguished number of us. Of this design we had abun- dant proof, or at least of a disposition to abuse their power by rendering it subservient to the most despicable actions and wicked purposes ; for, finding one of the prisoners alone in the evening, a gang of them took him, put a rope round his neck, threatening to stab him to the heart if he made any noise, and were about to hang him, when one of the company, staring him in the face, with a tone of disappointment cried out, "O, this is not the one ! " They then took the rope off his neck and let him ao. This manifested to the prisoner^ either a determination among the guard to waylay some of us, or a wish to trifle with their authority by creating fear in our minds and thus torment the afflicted. As we were sensible that the guard, if disposed, which we little doubted, might assassinate one or more of the prisoners, and, consigning the body to the waters of the river, keep the transaction hid from the knowledge of any person who should not be engaged in the horrid deed, we were led ever after- wards to take the precaution never to be found alone in the dark unarmed with a large scalping knife, which we kent in 21 242 INDIAN NARKATIVE8. HI our camp, and which served as a dagger and weapon of de- fence against a violent attack of nocturnal enemies. Having long been flattered with the prospect of soon being set at lib- erty, and discovering an intention among the guard privately to assassinate some unknown number of us, we resolved to make another attempt to effect our escape, and thus free our- selves from their brutal tyranny and unhallowed pretences. ,"We had once paid several dollars to one of the guard to suffer us to pass through the gate, should he find an opportu- nity ; but never had the good fortune even to see him again. The plan we adopted was in itself extremely precarious as to its success, and afforded so little encouragement, even to those who seemed to be most anxious to obtain their freedom, that few would engage in the enterprise, believing it would be a fruitless attempt to obtain our object, which would only cost us pain and bring upon us more sore trials and far greater afflictions. Had we been confined upon the main land, where liberty from the prison would have afforded us a chance to retreat from danger, though we should be obliged even to pass the gates of a city surrounded with enemies, having our hands bound in irons and our feet fettered with chains, yet our pros- pects of success in our attempt to escape had still been brighter than now presented to our view ; for then our deliv- erance from prison might have given us a passport to the wil- derness free from danger ; but now our freedom from those walls of wretchedness incurred the penalty of death, which was annexed to our escape if overtaken, and brought us to «' troubled waters," which seemed to promise death inevitable to all who should attempt to pass the current even with well- fitted boats ; while we had nothing in our power but logs, fas- tened together with ropes. Our plan was, to dig a passage under ground that should extend beyond the pickets, which stood about twenty feet from the barracks. It had been our practice during the summer CAPTIVITY OP ZADOCK STEELE. 248 to hang up blankets around the bunks in which v/e slept, to prevent the flies from troubling us while we reposed upon our couch in the daytime. We now again hung up the blankets around one of our bunks in a corner of the room, though not to prevent being disturbed by flies, but to hide ourselves from the face of " ser- pents that will bite without enchantment; and a babbler, which is no better." Fearing the consequence of making our object known to the prisoners generally, we determined to keep it a profound secret to all except the number who belonged to our room, consisting of twelve. Accordingly, we took up the floor, both of the bunk and barrack, and commenced digging. If any of our fellow-prisoners or the guard happened to come in while one was at work, others would drown the noise of his digging by making some noise with a stick or with their feet, which was easily done without being suspected of the design. We dug in a perpendicular direction deep enough to have a horizontal course leave the earth between the barracks and the pickets, of sufficient depth to render it safe for the guard to travel over the hole without breaking through. As they had dug a ditch along the back side of the barracks between them and the pickets in order to bank up the walls of the barracks, it became necessary for us to dig a perpendicular course of considerable depth before we could dig horizontally, to prevent any person who might chance to travel in the ditch from breaking in and discovering our plan. We had no other tool to dig with except a large jackknife ; nor, indeed, could we use any other instrument with any ad- vantage when we came to dig in a horizontal line. And, like the animal that makes his abode in the bosom of the earth by digging a subterraneous passage to his gloomy cell, after we had dug a quantity of earth loose, so that we had no room to dig more, we returned backwards, drawing or scraping the dirt we had dug with our hands and arms, which we put under the floor of the barracks. 244 INDIAN NAliUATIVIiS. Our progress, as must readily be perceived, was very slow ; though some one of us kept constantly digging except in the hours of sleep and time of taking refreshment, alternately following each other in our turns ; having a dress prepared for the purpose which each one wore while at work in this dreary cavern, where we were groping in darkness at noon- day. Here we had an opportunity to reflect upon our wretch- ed condition, while our labor itself witnessed our sufferings and discontentment. Here we could pereeive the comparative state of him who spiritually " walketh in darkness and hath no light." Here it might, indeed, with propriety be said that silence wept. "We succeeded, however, in the prosecution of our design extremely well, finding no obstacle in our way till we had dug under the ditch before mentioned, when a heavy rain fell and filled the ditch full of water, which soaked through the ground into our subterraneous way and filled the hole we had dug completely full. This was truly a great misfortune, which dampened the feelings of every one who had been en- gaged in the arduous undertaking. As we had dug considerable distance and advanced nearly to the pickets, had toiled with diligence and expended much labor, we were unwilling to relinquish the task and submit to the idea of continuing in bondage another winter. And we were the more anxious to pursue the undertaking and effect our escape, because the infamous M' Daniel, of whom I have spoken, had now returned and resumed his command over, us, which gave us greater reason to fear that we should again be compelled to undergo those tortures which he had once in- flicted. But it now ^>ccame impossible any longer to keep the mat- ter secret as we had done. We therefore made known our object to all the prisoners who were stationed in our line of barracks ; and, receiving their universal and respective prom- ises not to divulge the secret to any of the prisoners who were stationed in the other line of barracks, — although few would §iW CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 245 assist us, considering it labor in vain, — we resolved to perse- vere in the plan, and, if possible, effect our escape. We now commenced dipping out the water into a barrel, which we emptied into a ditch that was made to convey our wash water from the barracks into the river. We dipped six barrels' full and emptied it into the ditch, besides a considera- ble quantity which we put into a clay pit under the barracks where they dug clay for their chimneys ; and still there was much left in our way. The guard, no doubt, supposed we were washing, or they would have suspected us. Nor yet can I account for their stupidity while they saw we were in possession of such a quantity of water, which we brought out of, without carrying into, our barracks. We were now obliged to lie half buried in mud and water while digging, which chilled our h ^-« benumbed our senses, and depressed our spirits. To prevent being discovered, when we returned from our toil we were under the necessity of washing ourselves in a large tub of water, which we had also placed behind our blankets that were hung up around our bunk ; as we now were forced, on account of the mud, to enter upon our subterrane- ous labor entirely naked. Vain would be the attempt to give a description of my feelings while at work in this dreary cav- ern, twenty feet under ground, wholly without clothing, half buried in mud, and struggling for liberty. I was removed from all my friends and relatives the dis- tance of more than three hundred miles, and placed upon an island in the river, on both sides of which the water moved over the ragged rocks with such velocity as to appear white to the eye like a foaming billow, not less than three miles in length. Here I was confined within the power, and exposed to the envy, malice, and resentment, of an implacable enemy. Shrouded in darkness, in the heart of the earth where light ••^* £'j..v.-**vyf»*uiv, tUjr irviij liiy HI tiiu Hiiic, aiKi ray minu 21* 246 INDIAN NAKKATIVES. was overwhelmed with sorrow. If we refrained from digging, we seemed to be threatened with death on every side ; and if we continued to dig, our prospect appeared as melancholy as the grave. Fear and trouble were before us ; while our ab- sence from the barracks exposed us to the danger of having our plan discovered, which would be sure to bring upon us the most awful tortures, and perhaps even death itself. We •chose, however, rather to hazard our lives in an attempt to escape, though doubtful of success, than to risk the conse- quences of remaining in confinement. When we arrived to the picket we found it was placed upon a large stone. We then dug to the right, where we found another, which formed an angle with the first. Then, turning to the left, we also found a third. All which seemed 10 discourage my fellow-laborers, and led them entirely to give up the object. But, being in perfect health and in good spirits myself, I went in with a determination to remove one of these obstacles, if possible, before I returned. We had, by this time, made quite a large cavern near the pickets, which gave me considerable chance to work. After laboring in this cold, dismal place during the space of two hours, I succeeded in removing one of the stones out of the way, and, to my great joy, found that the picket was hollow up a few inches above the ground, which emitted light into this before gloomy but now delightful place. I could verily say with Solomon, " Truly the light is sweet ; and a'pleasant thing it is to behold the sun." I then returned and informed my fellow-prisoners of my success, which occasioned transports of joy, raised the de- sponding, encouraged the faithless, confirmed the doubting, and put new vigor in every breast. The work was now prosecuted in earnest and soon com- pleted. Animated at the prospect of gaining our liberty, the one who dug last undesignedly broke through the ground and rendered the hole visible to any person who should happen to CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 247 pass on the outside of the pickets. It now became necessary LT", ^r 'T''''' '^' ^^'^ *■'•«'» *h« observation of the guard. To effect this, Mr. Belknap, one of our fellow- prisoners, went to the guard, and, in a dissembling tone, rep. resented to M'Daniel the little prospect we hfd of bein'. exchanged; that we had long been flattered, and a^ bn^ waued with anxious expectation, for the approach of such a happy event, but, finding ourselves disappointed, were forced to abandon all hopes of deliverance by exchange that ta 1 ; that under these considerations, the prisoners were re- soh-ed to be contented during their confinement on the island tin hey should find themselves actually set at liberty, when all their hopes would be SNmllowed up in the full fruition of the object we had so long sought. Consequently we desired the indulgence of an opportunity to secure all our garden seeds, some of which, such as lettuce and mustard, were then ripe and fit to harvest, that we might be enabled to supply ourselves with the like articles the ensuing year, should it be our unhappy case to remain on the island another season. Pleased with the idea that the prisoners were resolved to be submissive to his requirements, he readily ordered one of the guard to go and attend us while we gathered our lettuce and mustard, whose duty it was to see that no one absconded. Having cut and tied up in small bundles these vegetables, we proceeded to hang them up so as to fill the space between the pickets, and also place them over the hole we had duo- to hide our escape from the sight of the sentinel, who walked over the hole between the pickets and the barracks in which we were stationed. This we accomplished while our unsus- pecting attendant was lounging about at a distance from us. Here we beheld an example of selfishness, discontentment, fear, and deception, actually assuming the appearance of hon- esty, contentment, and submission. Knowing that we must separate ourselves into small com- panies and take different rafts^ in orfi^r <« r-^-J . i -ji.il — tuis, ill vjiU'ui i\j Fciiuci uUi" passage 248 INDIAN NARRATIVES. down the rapids more safe, we now made choice of our asso- ciates to pass the dangerous scene before us. I associated myself with William Clark, of Virginia, John Sprague, of Ballston, New York, and Simeon Belknap, of Randolph, Ver- mont. We had prepared some food for our sustenance on the way by taking a quantity of flour and mixing it with melted butter, which we put into a small bag made for the purpose. We also had a little salt pork and bread, together v/ith some parched corn and black pepper. Those of us who had been engaged in digging had pre- viously furnished ourselves with ropes, by cutting our blank- ets into strings and twisting them together; while those who had believed our attempt to be vain and foolish had neither provided themselves with provisions, ropes, or materials for a raft, and were, therefore, unable to improve the opportunity which now presented to effect their escape. But they could not forbear collecting in small companies and whispering together to devise plans for escape, which raised suspicions in the minds of the guard that the prisoners were entering into some plot either to make their escape or to raise a mutiny in the camp. Under these apprehensions, which took rise from no other source but from the conduct of those who had been made privy to our undertaking, and would neither assist us in the work nor prepare themselves to make their escape, M'Daniel ordered that, " if any prisoner should be found attempting to make his escape or be guilty of any misconduct that night, he should not be spared alive." We commenced digging on the 24th of August, 1782 ; and having dug a passage under ground the distance of twenty-two feet and a half with no other tool but a jackknife, on the night of the 10th of September following, after waiting till nine o'clock, when the roll was called and all was still, we tied our ropes to our packs and crawled out, drawing our packs after us. I was preceded by six of my felloW-prisoners, who, after crawling through the hole, which was nearly half filled with ^ CAPTIVIXr OF ZADOCK STEELE. 249 mud, made a path in the grasa, as they crawled down the banks of the river, which resembled that of a log having been drawn through the mud. The moon shone bright. The sentinel was walking directly across the hole J use as I was about to crawl out, when he cried out, " All's well ! " Thought I, « Be it so ; continue the cry, if you please." My head at this time was not more than a yard from his feet. I crawled on, and was foUowed by about twenty more, who were our fellow-laborers. As we had been allowed to go out of our enclosure in the daytime to hoe our corn and garden roots and get our wood attended by one of the guard, we had improved the opportu' nity, and selected some logs for a raft to which we could 'ro without difficulty. Clark, Belknap, Sprague, and myself now separated ourselves from the rest of the prisoners and re- mained together, sharing equally in all the sufferings throu-h which we were called to pass. "^ We took a large scalping knife with us and a pocket com- pass, together with a tinder box and fireworks. We rolled a large log into the river on the upper part of the north side of the island, on each side of which we placed another; then, putting sticks across both ends of them, underneath and on the upper side, opposite each other, we tied all of them to- gether with our blanket ropes, and fastening our packs there- on, which contained our provision, &c., we then sat one on aach corner and set sail down the rapids. Death in its most frightful form now seemed to threaten us, and the foaming billows pointed us to a watery grave. Guided only by the current, sometimes floating over rocks,' sometimes buried in the water, with little hope of again being carried out alive, we passed down the raging stream with the greatest rapidity imaginable, clinging to our logs respec- tively, sensible that, under the guidance of divine Providence, our only ground of hope rested in our adhesion to the raft. We passed down the river about nine miles, when we wex© It 260 INDIAN NAKKAT1VE8. I enabled to reach shore. Wo handed on the north side of the river about two hours before day, with not a dry thread in our clothes, chilled with 4he cold and trembling with fear. Our bread had all washed to a jelly and been rendered wholly unfit to eat. None of our provision remained fit to carry with ua except a little parched corn, which was in a small, wooden bottle, some salt pork, and our buttered flour, which we found to be water[)roof. Our compass was also rendered useless ; which was indeed a great misfortune to us, as the want of it protracted our journey through the woods many days. We marched up the river till daybreak, when we discovered that we were near the fort opposite the island. We then turned north into the woods, which led us into a swamp, where we encamped under some old tree tops that had fallen together, about one mile from the fort, which formed no shelter from rain, but merely hid us from our expected pursuers. We plainly heard the report of the alarm guns on the morning of the 11th of September, which announced to us the discovery of what had cost us great pains, and evinced, to all who should behold the place, our love of liberty and resolution to obtain it. We remained under these tree tops three days and two nights without going ten rods from the place, having nothing to eat but salt pork, parched corn, and our buttered flour, together with a few kernels of black pepper ; for the want of which last I think we must have perished, as it rained with a mixture of snow every day and night sufficiently to keep us completely wet all the time. Having been so harshly treated by the British, and know- ing that " confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth and a foot out of joint," we resolved to make ourselves known to no one ; and like the Ishmaehtes of old, while we had reason to suppose that every man's hand was against us, we were determined to put our own hands against every man who should come in our way. (.Al'TlVITY OF ZAbOCK STliLLi: 251 Destitute of food autflcient to s^u^Ay us throu^^h the long woods we were to pass to reach our hon.es, we were deter- mined to replenish our stores before we crossed the Kiver St. Lawrence, as there were but few settlements on the south side of the river in that i)art of the country. We were, there- fore, under the necessity of staying about there till they had done searching for us. On the night of the third day after our escape we ventured to take up our march, and travelled till we came to a streira which we supposed emptied into the River St. Lawrence at the fort; but we afterwards found it to be only a branch of that stream. I waded into it, and found it was so deep that we could not ford it. I therefore returned, and we encamped for the night. Our sufferings this night were almost insup- portable ; as it was a cold, frosty night, and we were wholly exposed, having nothing about us except what was completely wet, without a shelter, and destitute of fire. On the morning of the 14th, benumbed and chilled with the cold, we found a place where we forded the stream, and travelled till we came to another ; and by mistaking the former, we supposed this to empty itself into the river above the fort. We followed the current of this stream till about dark, when we came in sight of a settlement. After waiting till about nine o'clock at night we ventured to approach a little nearer, when to our utter astonishment we heard the drum beat, which gave us assurance that we were near the fort. Find- ing ourselves so near, we concluded to cross the stream at the nearest fording-place. In passing off we went through the commanding officer's garden ; and I pulled up a hill of hia potatoes and curried them along with me. We then went into the road and followed up the River St. Lawrence about four miles. We had not proceeded far, how- ever, before we came to a boat lying at anchor in the river, near the shore. I waded in towtirus it till I heard men in it snoring in their sleep, when I quickly made my retreat. We :;52 INMAN NAUltATIVi:?. then went on till we came to the house of a Frenchman, as Wte supposed by his speech, who, just as we came up, opened the door and hailed us. Turning into his lot, we went to his barn and endeavored to find some ereature to kill. "We found one cow. As we were approaching towards her, two large dogs came at us with great rage, and, barking most furiously, n[)peared to be determined to bite us. The old Frenchman a«^ain came to the door and hailed us. Fearing that soldiers might be quartered there, we retreated as fast as we could, keeping an eye upon the dogs, and swinging our staves at them to keep them from biting us, while the old Frenchman was trying to set them on. The ground was descending as we retreated; and while we were all .moving together very fast, having our eyes partially turned upon the dogs, we ran against a fence, slightly laid up, and threw down many lengths, which made such a rattling thai it terrified the dogs and immediately put them upon their retreat, as much af- frighted as they had been outrageous. Trembling for our safety, we kept in the fields back of the street ; while the dogs continued their barking as if determined to arouse our enemies from their slumbers and cause us to be taken. They succeeded, at least, in exciting all the dogs in the neighborhood to engage in the general alarm, and seemed anxious to maintain a constant echo in the surrounding atmos- phere. They were busily employed at every house, and sometimes in great earnest, as we passed along the distance of several miles. At length we came to a number of cattle in a field not far from the road, among which we found a two-year-old heifer, very tame and in good flesh. We had long been lurking about, waiting for the agitation of the public mind -to abate, that we might have opportunity to obtain some provision before we entered into the wide wil- derness through which we were expecting to pass ; and as the favored moment had now arrived, we agreed that Belknap CAPTIVlTf OF aADOCK STEELE. fffa Bhould go m search of a boat to convey us over the Lake Su 1 ranci« near which we found the cattle ; that Sprague should stand wuh our scalping knife to defend against every foe ; whUe Ckrk and myself should kill the heifer and procure a quanuty of m^t. By the help of a little salt I soon sue ceeded m catching the heifer; and, taking her by the horns and nose I instantly flung her down, when Clark cut her throat with a large jackknife ; and, not waiting for herto die or even spending time to skin her, we took off a gammon and left her bleedmg. Belknap had now returned and informed us that he had found a boat, to which we immediately resorted carrying wuh us our unskinned beef, the booty we had de- 8.red for many days, leaving the owner of the heifer to seek h.s recompense where he could find it; willing, however, he should share with us in his beef by taking what we left. Wev;ere not insensible that, if he were a British subject, we had abundantly compensated his loss to his government by our own starvation ; or, if he were a friend to the unfortunate, he could not lament hie loss, since he had thus far contributed to feed the hungry without even knowing what his right hand d.d. Nor, indeed, did we trouble ourselves, while we rumi- nated upon the affair, concerning what might be the cogitations of the owner; since we had obtained the meat, and thus an- swered our own purpose. Having entered the boat with all our baggage, the moon slnmng bright, we set out upon the lake, steering for the south shore. We had advanced but little distance when a breeze arose from the north-west and drifted us ahead with great violence, every wave dashing the water into our boat. It now became necessary that two of us should dip the water from our boat with our hats as fast as possible, while ^le othor two rowed for the shore with the greatest exertion. Ihe wind increased. The boat was fast filling in spite of all we could do. Every wave, to human view, brought us by rapid strides to the arms of death and presented to us a 22 M 254 INDIAN NARIIATIVES. watery grave. But, through the wonderful goodness of the great Preserver of men, we succeeded in landing just as our boat had filled with water. Having fastened it to the shore we went into the woods, struck up a fire, skinned our beef and cut it into thin slices, which we partially roasted on sticks by the fire, and then lay down to sleep. This was the first time we had been to any fire since we left Prison Island. We had lain secreted in bushes and old tree tops ; wandered in the darkness of the night, exposed to the inclemency of the weather ; forded streams of water up to our necks, constantly and completely wet ; hungry, and chilled with cold ; filled with fear and anxiety for our safety during the space of four days and five nights, including the night in which we made our escape. Destruction and misery often appeared in our way. Death frequently stared us in the face, threatening to make us his prey, but seemed to be held from falling upon us by the finger of God. On the morning of the loth of September, (the fifth day after we escaped,) supposing we had landed upon an island, we began to seek how we should get off without being discov- ered by the inhabitants on the northern shores of the lake or by those who might happen to be upon the waters. Happily we found, by travelling into the woods, that we were upon a peninsula, joined to the main land by an isthmus not more than eight or ten feet wide. This was a circumstance greatly in our favor, as we should otherwise have been under the neces- sity of exposing ourselves to the view of our enemies, or waiting for the night to cover our escape. We now set out, directing our course nearly south-east, for the American fort at Pittsford, a town situated on Otter Creek, in the western part of the State of Vermont. Our companion, Mr. Clark, had been much accustomed to travelling in the woods, having been engaged in the business of surveying in the western part of the United States at the "Uli CAPTIVITY OP ZADOCK STEELE. 255 time he was taken by the Indians. We therefore chose him to be our leader through the wilderness and our pilot to a more favored country. We travelled all the first day over low, marshy land, tim- bered with cedar, but were unable to find any water to drink either m running brooks or by digging ; for the want of which we suffered much, being thirsty as well as hungry, and greatly fatigued. Wishing to escape the vigilance of our expected pursuers, we travelled with great speed, which, together with our living on flesh alone, doubtless occasioned a far greater degree of thirst than we should have fel had we been sup- P led with bread. The next day we found water in great plenty. We crossed many streams of considerable size ; some by fording, although of such depth as to reach to our shoulders • others we crossed by making a small raft sufficient to bear one of us with our baggage; while the other three stripped, and hanging by one hand to the raft, swam by her side. After wandering in the wilderness during the space of ten days, — sometimes progressing on our journey, sometimes loun- ging m suspense, doubting which course to take, and waiting for the clouds to be dispelled, that the sun might appear to en- lighten our path and guide our way, -we arrived at Lake Champlain with our clothes nearly torn from our bodies, ema- ciated with hunger and fatigued with the daily toil and Ion- deprivation of the comforts of civilized life. During these ten days we saw no other human being, nor heard his voice, be- held his footsteps, or the works of his hand. We lived almost wholly on flesh, like the carnivorous race, and, like them, re- posed upon the ground, equally fearing the face of man, sus- picious of his design, and dreading his approach as we did the instrument of death. While we one day lay encamped by the fire, waiting for the appearance of the sun, we were aroused from our sleep by the supposed report of a musket. Ignorant of the source whence it came, and fearing to make immediate flight lest we should 256 INDIAN NAUR ATI VE8. flee into the hands of our enemieg, we prepared ourselves to march, and were endeavoring to espy the foe, when a similar noise, proceeding from the bursting of a stone heated by the fire, relieved our minds from fear, and filled our bosoms with joy at the happy disappointment of expected danger. Soon after we arrived at Lake Champlain we found a part of an old flat-bottomed boat, which we fitted up, for the pur- pose of conveying us across the lake, by lashing a log on each side with bark and withs. At about sunset we went aboard and set sail to cross the lake. We had proceeded nearly half way across, when the wind arose against us and baffled all our exertions to proceed farther. After laboring till about midnight without success, and fearing we should^ be taken by the British if we remained on the water till light, \ye concluded to row back to the shore we left and relinquish the idea of crossing the lake that night. We had continued upon the water till a tempest arose, and the wind blew from various directions, shifting its course every few minutes ; and our strength had become almost exhausted, being faint for want of food, insomuch that we could hardly move. We labored with diligence and with all our might till daybreak, having nothing to use for oars ex- cept such sticks as we found in the woods and prepared for the purpose with a jackknife. We were now enabled to reach the same shore from which we started, though several miles farther north. Our clothes were completely wet, and our strength so far gone that neither of us could scarcely go. In this wretched state, stupefied and chilled with the cold, so faint and tired that we could hardly move, we crept a few rods into the woods, built a fire, and laid down upon the ground. I never suffered so much fatigue, in the same space of time in my life, as I did this night ; nor would I have believed I could endure as much, with so little strength, without perish- ing. Language is too feeble to express, nor can imagination oonceive, the sufferings we underwent. CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 267 We had but little provision left, and were compelled to cur- tail our former allowance, so that we should be enabled to subsist and continue our journey till we could reach the desired country. Having rested from the wearisome and fruitless labors of the night till nearly sunset the next day, we resolved to travel on the west side of the lake till we should come to a narrow place where we could well hope for success in an attempt to cross. We resumed our march and travelled a few miles that night, then camped down and waited for the morning. The next day we came to the River Saranac, which empties mto Lake Champlain at a place now called Plattsburg, in the State of New York. We heard the noise of the British engaged in chopping a few rods up the river, while we crossed it between them and the lake, not far from its mouth. After we crossed the river we travelled a small distance and encamped for the night in a valley which was in the form of a basin. We followed up the lake upon the western shore; crossed Duck Creek, River-au-Sable, Salmon River, and Gilliland's Creek; when we came to a place called Split Rock, where the lake is narrow, which afforded us a prospect of succeeding if we attempted to cross. We then went to work to build a raft, and while engaged, a little before sunset, espied a British armed vessel making towards us from the south. We went into the bushes and lay secreted from their view, though they were so visible to us that we could see their red coats, and even count the buttons upon them, while they sailed around at a small distance from us, apparently for amusement, and then returned again to the south, out of our sight, without discovering us. We then went to work, completed our raft at dark, set sail across the lake, and safely landed in a few hours at a place now called Charlotte, in the State of Vermont. We were however, ignorant at that lime both of the name of the ,>lace' 22* 258 INDIAN NARRATIVES. and of its local situalton. Being yet in a strange wilderness, •we knew not which way to direct our course to reach inhab- itants. Indeed, all that prompted us to go forward was the information we had received that there were settlements near some part of this lake. But we were wholly ignorant what way to take that should enable us to find them. Supposing ourselves to be between the mouth of Onion River tnd Otter Creek, we concluded to steer in a Routh-east direction, which we supposed would bring us to Pittsford Fort. We travelled into the woods a few rods and 'ay down for the night. In the morning we resumed our march, and had not gone far before we came to an old log house, which had long been abandoned, and, by the long continuance of the war, had become greatly decayed. We however found a few beans, which had probably been there a number of years, and were covered with mould. As our provision was mostly gone and we were extremely hun- gry, we took and parched them, as we would corn, by the fire, which gave some relish to the twigs, roots, and berries that had already, for some days, composed our principal food. Our clothes were almost torn from our mangled bodies by the bushes, logs, and trees ; and the blood that gushed from our naked and wornout feet witnessed, in every track we made, the pains we suffered. Parts of our stockings still remained about our feet ; and, having a needle (but no thread) with us, we ravelled off the tops of them and sewed our tattered rags together as much as possible, to defend our bodies from the inclemency of the weather. Our du..y allowance of the food we brooght with u? from Priijon Island was now reduced to about an inch square of salt pork and as much of our buttered flour as we could twice put upon the point of a large jackknife. We had eaten all our beef and parched corn. We dug roots of various kinds and ate them, together with CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STKKLK. 259 we the birch and other twigs. Spikenard roots, which we roasted by the fire, comprised the greatest part of our subsistence. We found several small frogs, which v.e killed and ate with great dehght But we could find only a few of them, though we searched dd.gently. Their meat tasted exceedingly sweet and Uelicious. We also found means to catch several small fish trom a httle rivulet which we crossed; but could not obtain more than two or three, although we spent much time and used every exertion in our power. Some time after we had dressed our fish and had advanced considerable distance, we espied a bear upon a tree a few rods ahead of us. We hastened to the foot of the tree, in view of kilhng her, as she descended, by stabbing her with our larg« scalpmg knife. But, on examination, we found the knife was lett at the place of dressing the fish, which frustrated our plan and blighted our hopes of obtaining any meat. Disappointment was now added to hunger and distress, and our faint and wearied bodies were hardly able to support the dreadful weight of soitow which hung over our minds. We however continued to keep a south-east course till we reached the top of the mountains lying between Onion River and Otter Creek, when, looking back, we could see the lake in fair view. Being so feint for want of food that we could hardly step, and seeing no prospect of obtaining any, it seemed as if death must be our inevitable fate. We had travelled seven or eigrit days, and had subsisted the whole time mostly upon the spontaneous productions of the country. The season for berries was nearly gone, though we were able to find some. Our natures seemed to waste away and leave nothina. but death to stare us in the face. Winter was fast approadiinc., ^hile we were almost naked, destitute, and forlorn. O tC wretched condition of those whose lot it is to be cast into the wilderness and left to wander upon the dark mountains of despair! I could feelingly atlopt the language of Job, and 260 INDIAN NAKRATlVliS. Bay, " Terrors are turned upon me : they pursue my soul as the wind ; and ray welfare passeth away as a cloud. "When I looked for good, then evil came unto me; and when I waited for light, there came darkness. I am a brother to dragons and a companion to owls; for I have eaten ashes like bread and mingled my drink with weeping." Had we seen any prospect of soon finding the house of a friend, or of obtaining provision in any other way before we should arrive among inhabitants, we could not have denied ourselves at once to eat the little provision we had in our packs whi?e we suffered so much by hunger on our way. The barren mountains and rocky cliffs of Bristol, Ripton, and Hancock, the dismal plain of Chataugua, and the waters of Champlain Witnessed the cries of our sufferings; while our steps traced in blood the distress we endured. We wandered from mountain to mountain and from valley to valley, keeping at a distance from the lake, lest we should fall into the hands of the British, who had command of the lake at that time. Sorrow, hunger, and bitterness of soul were our constant attendants through the day ; and the ap- proach of the night only increased our miseries and multi- plied our sighs and groanings. Though we slept, it was for trouble ; and if we continued to roam the wilderness we found no comfort, and our strength failed. If we slumbered, it was upon the brink of the grave, and it would not feed us. While our hunger increased, our hopes of relief grew dim. Seeing no prospect of ever finding the habitations of friends, our companions, Clark and Sprague, like the lepers of old, "■ said one to another, Why sit we here until we die? " If we say we will pursue our journey, " we shall die ; and if we sit still here, we die also." They therefore resolved to return to« the lake if they could get there, and deliver theraselves up into the hands of the British. They were boii* possessed of true coura:.;e, and a noble, I CAl.TITITl' or KADOOK STEELE. Jgl try east of Lake Champhin, and conseqaently had lesa to en coumge them tban Bcltnap and myself Thly were CwMI them, ,f we conid ever reach inhabitant.. But to -o forward or hree day,- travel : as we are ™ wealt we can hardlv «, and Bt 11 (rrowini weakpr •• Tl,.„ . . ■ "arnjy go, to h. eJ^ f "ig weaker. rhey requested us to leave them BuUheT /°7'i ^T "' ■■' P'-^*"™ exasperated foe. t!l '"■«'" f^'^S^ "f •™n.an sensibility forbade „s ,o leave tbem , and Belknap and n,y..i. persuaded them to persevere and remam w.,h us to the end by dealing out to them a^ the lead and be the.r pdot ; to which I consented. It being nearly night, we encamped till moraine, when we concluded to change our course and steer nearly I ,o„,h south-westerly direction . We travelled „„ modeZly ^^ of the event, till about „,»n, when, being some ^IflZZ of my compamons, I was so fortunate Z to come to Troad Of tins I notified my languishing companions, famishing with ^ nger and groaning under the weigh, of the.'r wretchedn™ winch occasioned transports of joy, gladdened their hearts and mv,gorated their bodies, yea, it "shed happiness a™u"d us and ba„,shed misery befon, us." For we could say wUh Dav.d, that we had " wanuered in the wilderness, in ZZ^ way, and found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsry tr souls famted within us. Then we cried unto the wi in 1 abiutiln" '' "" "='" ™^' "«" "^ '»'^'" «° '<- » «'y Of tratlirr* !,'* *" '"^•*'" "' ^" «"«"g inhabitants, we travelled on the road with joy and delight. Our hope, of agau> seemg our friends became brightened, and our e^c^ t^ons greatly strengthened our weak and trembling limbs We soon came '■" -:~u* -^ - - ^-^ < - e "mua. Yve sight of an old horse, and an oH mara tiri^K > V fT 11X_1 £J 262 INDIAN NARRATIVES. sucking colt by her side. As they were in a valley some dis- tance from the road, we concluded not to go after them, hop- ing soon to find inhabitants, where we should be enabled also to find friends, who would lend the hand of charity. We therefore travelled on, and soon came to a stream, but could not determine whether it was Otter Creek or only a branch of it. If it were a branch, we knew we ought to follow the current till we came to the creek. But to follow the current of the creek itself would lead us directly to the lake, where we should be exposed to the British. We however thought it most prudent to follow down the stream, and soon came to its mouth, and still were left in doubt whether the stream into which the first we discovered emptied itself was Otter Creek or some other branch. As it began to draw near sunset, and seeing no prospect of finding inhabitants that night, we resolved to return to the place where we came to the first stream, having there found the walls of an old log house. Clark and myself went and procured the horses and colt; while Belknap and Sprague struck up a fire and built a camp. Having returned with the horses and confined them in the old log house, we killed and dressed the colt and roasted some of the meat upon sticks by the fire and ate it ; and surely " it was pleasant to ths taste." Indeed, I never ate any meat of so delicious a flavor, although without bread, salt,* or sauce of any kind. The next morning we startp-l with our old horse and colt- less mare, and travelled till after the middle of the day, when we came to the place we passed about noon the day preceding. We were confident it was the same place, by finding some spikenard roots which we had thrown away soon after we found the road. • We brought a small quantity of salt from Prison Island, but lost the principal part of it in passing down the rapids. The remainder we gave to the heifer we kUled, and took her gammon in exchange. CAPTlvlir 01- iiUOOK STEBLE. 268 haTd 'or totl """"""'"S ""' "•'"''" "> '""' to the right hand or to the left, having obtained a new supply of meat bee:tiIlB f '^r '""''' '^'^^'"^"^'^ -The „ ^ d' there 7,1 ^ T "^ '" '"""'" """y'' ^<' '='>"<"'"ied to tarry there through the day and encamp for the night honin/th. the bet er to determme what course to take. Wlule we were patroIUng about the fields, which appeared to have been unoccupied and but partially Cultivated du„W thelong war, we found a large yard of ,u™ips. °« We then prepared our camp, built a fire, and, havin. pro- dunng the night, first sleeping a little and then eating • thus alternately refreshing ourselves by sleep and eating 7b mea w,.h roasted turnips till the approach of day. L we Tad ad'nronlvT '" r"'""""" ^"""' »f ">« -'demoss, and had not only been almost entirely destitute of bread and meat but wholly depnvcd of every cultivated vegetable, we were conscous that it would be injurious, and even da. grUto eat .mmed^ately all we might crave for the night. ^ ' Wo therefore chose to satiate our hunger in a measure by p.ecemeals, while we truly feasted up„„%hat kind „f fa™ to our wretched condition and craving appetites. In the mortjmg he sky was clear, and the sun rose, to every one of -, directly m the u,es. We now discove^d the Tause ^f becoming lost ; and, feeling much refreshed and strengthened we took our horses and directed our course according Tthe sun, diametrical^ against our own ideas of the true ^o LVof compass. We had not pi-oceeded far when we came'o Iree otiier horses, which we took, leaving the old mare for the ben! eflt of the owner. After travelling till about noon we came to a man chop, pmg m the woods. Seeing us all on horseback, with bark bndles and no saddles, having on coats maae of Man bta- 264 IKDIAN NAUItATIVKii. ■ keta, which were all \v vags, with beards an inch long, and each one of us ..v ; •. „ >.h a cudgel, the trembling wood- cutter stood in drett'Jful awe, with hia axe raised above his shoulder, dreading our approach, ln\i fearing i try bis suc- cess in an attempt to escape ; while we drew near, rejoicing that we had once more arrived where we could behold the face of one whose hand should not be igainst us, and against whom we were not co:npellod for our safety to put our own hands. We were not much surprised, though very sorry, to find our friend so grievously alarmed while we only desired hia friend- ship. We informed him of our wretched condition, and be- sought him to be our friend, with tears of joy and tenderness trickling down our emaciated cheeks. Finding we were not his enemies, lut the subjects of his pity and tender compas- sion, bursting into tears of sympathy at the short relation we gave him of our sufferings, he invited us to go with him and he would lead us to Pittsford Fort, which was only about one mile distant, where we should be made welcome to every thing necessary for our comfort. We soon arrived at the fort. It was now about one o'clock in tlie afternoon. We were received with the greatest marks of sympathy and commiseration and treated with every respect due to our wretchedness and want. And though justice demands that I should acknowledge the generous dis- play of philanthropic zeal, as well as selfish curiosity com- mon on such occasions, yet I could not forbear to notice with pain that cold indifference for the miseries of others, commonly observable in those who have long been familiar with scenes of wretchedness and woe, which was manifested by some, and especially by the commander of the fort, on our arrival at that place. Not long after we arrived at the fort the owners of the horses came up, carrying their saddles upon their backs. They had been out for the purpose of surveying land, and had turned CAPTIVITT OF ZAUOCK STEELR. 265 sufre.ngs „„,1 |,e„,g m,ulo acquainted win, our clcplorubl,. condi- .on, ,hcy readily r,,.Iied, wi„. seeming eompa^ion ..,„,, I z:>:^r'^ ""^ - ^- ™ <•"-- - .oV.na :j: ?ord H r r°" ""■ ^'' ''"^ "f 0"»''«-. 1782, havin, fo.ded r.ver. of w:„er up to our shoulders; traver"""'"' -y- could »2f r r"'"'' "" ■""''"'« "'^' •^"'h our bed of re- exmetin, ^ ' """■'^ '""'""^' ""'' "l""^' "aked ; little expectmg ever agu.n (o see tl.e faces of our friends or to be I."M those habitations whielt witnessed our ovenile tears" where we enjoyed the kind embraces of tender a„d X ■onate mothers and the paternal car. of iudd^enttthet: expeetmg every day to see the appro.aeh of that hou whi' our sp,r,ts should be called to leave our bodies n a horUnl wddemess ,o become food for wild beasts, and or fr.endt! ament our absence, ignorant of our end. After endurTnljll h.,, yea more than pen can describe or lang age expfes who can el ou,- joy and gratitude when we earaelo beho d ,' "cty of halutauon " and the abodes of plenty mafheart wt eo°u I'^fT '"'■ '""•""= '"'■^'" J»y »' --* -■ vent Who eould forbear to speak forth praise to the Rreat R-e server of men on such an occasion ? Would no. eferv ^f !" susceptible of die least im„,.„. ■ "ou m not every heart, the A|mi»h.v '"Passion, acknowledge the hand o' iiie Almighty ,., so great a deliverance > Instead of making our bed upon the cold ground with r„. clothes wet and our bodies benumbed, we emdd n'o^ e sweet repose by the fireside, sheltered f^^mllrandT rounded wtth friends. Instead of feeding ^Ttro^, 2a roots, twigs, and bark, wp ^/^„u x.... ., „ . . ft "" twigs, and bark, we could now taste the fruits of labor 266 TNDIA.N SAlJKAMVIia. and industry, and feast upon I ho bounties of Heaven. In- stead of wandering through a lonely wilderness, with our cheeks wet with tears of sorrow, almost overwhelmed with despair, we could now travel through a country of civiliza- tion free from enemies, and receive support from t'-e hand of charity. After sharing in the benevolence of many individuals, and receiving every tokun of tViendshif) from the garrison at the fort, as they were expecting soon to be attacked by the Brit- ish, we were advised to travel on still farther that night, that we might be the more safe from the grasp of the enemy. Wo theiefbre proceeded on towards Rutland several miles, when we obtained lodgings in the house of a " poor widow," who furnished us with the best food her house afforded, of which we ate heartily. Having long been without bread of any kind, and being now furnished with a full supply of good wheat bread, it seemed as if we should, die with the effect of eating it. It lay like lead in our stomachs, and caused us the most agonizing distress for some hours, while we rolled upon the floor with bitter groanings, although we had denied ourselves the satisfaction of eating the half of what our appetites craved. But our extreme hunger prevented the exercise of prudence and economy in the choice of that kind of food which was best adapted to our wretched condition. Nor did we wait long lo cci^sult about the propriety or impropriety of eating any thing we found within our reach. Our avidity for food, however, soon abated, when we found no injury to result from eating all we desired. We made our escape on the night of the K)th of Septem- ber, arrived at Lake Champlain in about ten days, and came to the fort on the night of the 2d of October following ; having been in the wilderness twenty-two days, without speak- ing to any other person except our own company.* It is true, * When the «un was inviaible, having lost our compasa, we directed our course hy the moss upou trees, which ia found only upon the >*IIIP "> OonnecticuL "•■-h preve„,ed ourVing far i„ '„ Z '"-'™"'" ''''y '"">• Sj-aguc, »ep»r„.„d „!'„:' T ™'"P'""''"'' ^''"•'' ""d parlicipation of sufferhl 1 ^ "™"'"S""'- »? » ">utaal each other which wfflZ t ""''"■■«' """ "«■«««"" f-r [-a „a„, .:^«rr'f„rd""r'';-. "''''"="-'■- having been rescued from manv d!' f "■""" '"S"'"'"' -any .roubles, sharinre"™,?: '?«"'' and delivered out of as well as in the joys'resul.i » fr„ '^''', P"'"'' """ ■■"»'■•»»=. reiuctantly parted, Uc .wfeiy tX' t T""' "° """ -ver again to see each o.her S^ we hfuL "'!; ""'■"'" ;here "the weary be at rest. The e ,be "' "■°^''' together, they hear not the voice of H ''■"'"'" '"'^ small and great are (here and M. "'''"■''*°"'- ^''^ master." ' ^^ ""^ ««''™nt w free from hi. us totiH^ "'err.":: to"tl T'""";"^ '•"'■'^'■•■="^ »' »"- of B.-lknap and I co"i " °, '"' "'' ^"'"''' °f ""f«'ief." in Co„nec.icu.,wlererf ""'/"'''■'' '"«''"" '» Ellington, oa 'be 17.h of Oc b, ' iTsa b'"*'' ^» "-■-".ere '^« .-a. I was ta.e„ hy tL^L^ir^ CoJ^ ^wLt» Of .he .a„, ,..,,eh ^^t^Z ;Z:^:fZ^ •"' 'PP— - 263 INDIAN NARRATIVES. r can describe the mutual joy which was felt by parents and children on our arrival ? Truly our fathers, " seeing us while yet a great way ofF, ran and fell upon our necks and kissed us." Behold how the affection of a father. . See him shed the tear of compassion. Hear him say, " This my son was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is lound." See him '• begin to be merry ; " nor think it strange that the fat- ted calf 3hould be killed. Behold a kind father in tears of joy, and a fender step- mother * kindly embracing the subject of her husband's for- mer grief, but present delight. See " the best robe " cast around him, with " the ring upon his hand and the shoes upon his feet." See brothers and sisters surrounding the returned brother. Hear their acclamations of joy and gladness, em- bracing their once lost but now living brother. What heart would not melt at the sight of such a joyful scene.? And ■what can I say to express my own feelings on this delightful interview ? Having endured the hardships of an Indian cap- tivity and the pains cf the prison, the gnawings of hunger, the tortures of the rack, and the still more dreadful distress of twenty-two days' wandering in the wilderness ; filled with despair, anxiety, and fear ; almost starved, and nearly naked ; full of wounds, and constantly chilled with the cold ; imagine, kind reader, the feelings of my heart when I came to beliold the face of affectionate parents and receive the tender em- braces of beloved brothers and a loving sister. Think of the festivities of that evening, when I could again enjoy a seat in a social circle of friends and acquaintance around the fireside in my father's house. Vain is the attempt to describe my own feelings on that joyful occasion. Fruitless indeed must be all my endeavors to express the mutual congratulations manifested by all on my return. * My own mother died while I was quite young, and my father had married again to a woman possessing the kindest aflfection* and the most endearing love. i t CAPTIVITY OF ZADOCK STEELE. 269 My long absence from my friends, together with a sense of p.ese. ed, mcreased our gratitude, and caused wonder and a>ton,slm.ent to dwell in every breast. We could now hoax'ly un.te m ascribing praise and adoration to Him who gran ed rne protection while exposed to the shafts of hatred Ld re- >enge. I was treated wUh all that friendship which pity could excue or sympathy dictate, and saluted by every p r! son I met, whether old or young, with a heai;y welcome. Everyone seemed to be in a good degree consdous o The extreme suffermgs I had undergone. In short, my return afforded me an opportunity to witness a display of all the ten- der passions of the soul. F j' u du me ten- Knowing the deplorable wretchedness of those who had the misfortune to become prisoners to the British, and conse- quent y expectmg every day to hear of my death, my friends been had they witnessed the resurrection of one from the The ex'treme hunger and distress I had felt were clearly mamtested to those who beheld my emaciated counten u^ and mangled feet; and no one was disposed to doult t L ^uUi of my words who heard me relate the afiecting-ta e of my sore affhct.ons. For, " by reason of the voice k my groanmgs, my bones," it might verily be said, did '^ eleave to mv .km. I however had the satisfaction to find my deen -^xiety U> be deliv^red from bondage and escape from the <^nemy, n.y ardent wishes to see my friends, and my hungry cravn.g appettte, whoHy satisfied in tl,e full fruition of alfmy oils, fhe mumhcence of the .venlthy was ofTered for my r^:. i.ef, and the poor approached me with looks of tenderness and pity. All things around me wore a propitious smile. From morning till night instead of being guarded by a company of refugees and tones, or wandering in a lonesome wilderness hungry and destitute, I could now beho.d the fnc. of friendt 23 * 270 INDIAN NARRAXIVES. and at tlie approach of night repose my head upon a downy pillow, under the hospitable covert of my father's roof. In- stead of being made a companion of the wretched, I could now enjoy the sweet conversation of a beloved sister and atiectionate brothers. Having for more than two years been deprived of hearin.^ thr. gospel sound, surely " I was glad when they said unto me" i^tt us go mto the house of the Lord." For unto God I could saj, » Thou art my hiding-place ; thou shalt preserve me from trouble ; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliver- ance I will be glad and iejoice in thy name ; for thou hast considered my trouble ; thou ha.st known my soul in adversity " This I hoped would be the language of every one who made their escape with me. For myself, I trust it was the sincere language of my heart. Notwithstanding the prisoners whom we left on the island v.'ere set at liberty shortly after our escape, and although our suhenngs m the wilderness were exceedingly great, yet I never found cause to lament that I improved the opportunity to free myself from the hands of those cruel tormentors .nd oppresr-ors of the afflicted. For " the spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity." And under this consideration we chose rather to hazard the consequences of an escape, though it might prove our death, tJian to become the menial servants and thus gratify the infernal desires, of a petty tyrant. ' " Now I fee], by proof, That fellowship in pain divides not smart, Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load." I have never had th.; satisfaction to hear from either of my friends and fellow-suiTerers, Clark aud Sprague, since I parted with them at Bennington. Mr. Belknap now lives in Randolph, Vermont, and, from (he sad experience of the like sufferings himself and his par- tioipation m ray own, can witne:; to the truth of my statement IT I I •»W^«»"«»I|I«|W CAPTIVITY OF 2AD0CK STEELE. ^ was concluded between Gr2 7 'f'-'P'^' " "■«="y »f Peace at Park .he slad IT. J [ ["^'" ""'' ""= ^'""^^ Slate. c v^dr naa now terminated, mv rpfm-n t,^ t> j , , .Mo£t„.4irar:tr:--:r--- whfc . Z. ed":rl,'i„n' 'T' •"' """=« "- "-""^-ed, aspect. ./JetdweUi n Til :!Zt''/'' -^'"^ -attend fo/s:nrdi j: eS ti: ,„::f';s in '-"r ' "^^ when he d.ed at the good old age of .evenly L' . ' quaintance. -"nerin,. to hia fnends and ac- Generous and hospitable by nature nn,l i,„. • ■ ' by my sufferings to feel for urlrr ^^ "" '""«'" extend the ha'd of chari^ ,' , e™''t :ir; 7" "''''' '" We, alway, the abode o^f pC^': aXlbr t nAed^and forlorn, an acceptable h„„c to the 'poor and tt Aiwa,-, exhibiting a sense of what .ufierings I had under- 272 INDIAN NARRATIVES. gone for want of food, he seemed in nothing to be more delighted than " to feed the hungry and clothe the naked." My loving and aged step-mother, with one of her sons, (a half- brother of mine,) now lives on the same farm. In the winter of 1785 I was married to Hannah ShurtUff, of Tolland, Connecticut, and settled at Randolph not far from my father's house, where I resided eight years, when I purchased a farm and removed to Brookfield, a town ad- joining. Here I have resided until the present time, (1816,) and ob- tained my own subsistence and that of my numerous family by means of cultivating the soil. By a steady course of in- dustry and economy I have been enabled, under the divine blessing, to acquire a comfortable support, and enjoy the fruits of ray labors in quietude and peace. As my occupation ■was that of a farmer, my opportunities for information, like those of many others of my class, have been limited. My family, not unlike Job's, consists of seven sons and three daughters ; nor have I reason to think my afEictions much inferior to his. Although death has never been per- mitted to enter my dwelling and take any of my family, yet my substance has once been destroyed by worse than Chal- dean hands, and that, *oo, at the very outset of my adventures in life. Not only were my house and effects destroyed, but myself, at a most unpropitious hour, when far removed from all my friends, compelled to leave my employment, relinquish all those objects of enterprise peculiar to the juvenile age, and forced to enter the ranks of a savage band and travel into an enemy's country. Thus were all my expectations cut off. My hopes were blasted and my youthful prospects darkened. " I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet ; yet trouble came. O that my grief were thor- oughly weighed, and my calamity laid in the balances to- gether ! " Notwithstanding that inhumanity and cruelty which char- - • CAPTIVITT OF ZADOCK 8TKELE. 273 ftcterized the conduct of the savages, yet I think that the barbarous treatment which we received from the impious commanders of the British fort, in whose charge we were kept, might put to the blush the rudest savage who traverses the western wild. Their conduct illy comported with what might be expected from men who are favored with the light of revelation. The savage, when he does a deed of charity towards his prisoner, is no doubt less liable to be actuated by a selfish principle, and influenced by the hope of reward or by a fear of losing his reputation, than he is who has been made ac- quainted with the gracious reward offered to those who " do unto others as they would that others should do unto them," and knows the bitter fonsequen ses of the contrary prac- tice. And I think the destruction of Royalton and all its evil consequences may with less propriety be attributed to the brutal malevolence of the savage tribe than to the in-noble treachery and despicable fanaticism of certain individuals of our own nation. Scarce can that man be found in this enlightened country who would treat his enemy with as much tenderness and com- passion as I was treated by the savage tribe ; though I had abundant cause to say that the " tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." Who would not shudder at tLe idea of being compelled to take up their abode with a herd of tawny savages ? Yet, alas ! when I contrasted the sufferings I endured while with the Indians with those afflictions that were laid upon me by men who had been from their youth favored with the advantages of civilization, civ, hM with authority, and distinguished with a badge of hon .r, could truly say the former chastised me with whips, but i»>o latter with scorpions. An Indian captivity will hardly admit of a comparison with 274 INDIAN NARRATIVEa. my wretched condition while in the hands of the British and under the domineering power of a company of refugees and tones. While with the Indians my food was unsavory and un- wholesome; ray clothing, like their own, was scant and cov- ered with filthy vermin ; and my life was always exposed to the danger of their implacable hatred and reven-e. This was a most perilous condition indeed for any one to be placed m. But my confinement with the British multiplied my complaints, added to my afflictions, rendered me more exposed 10 the danger of losing my life, increased my sorrows, and apparently brought me near the grave. My food was less filthy; hut I was not alloweu the half of what my ap- petite .raved and my nature required to render me com- fortable. By these and my subsequent afflictions I have been taucrht a lesson that has made an impression upon my mind which I trust -vill remain as long as life, shall last. ^ I have lee., tanght, by ocular demonstration and sad expe- rience, the depravity of man, and the fallacy of looking for durable happiness in terrestrial things. My own sufferings have implanted within my breast that sympathy for the distressed which is better felt than described Nakedness and poverty have once been my companions; and I shall not readily forget to lend a hstening ear to the cries of the needy. And I would exhort myself and all my fellow-men, by the extreme sufferings I have endured, to be ready at all times to "feed the hungry and clothe the naked," nor ever fail to extend the hand of cliarity for the assistance of the unfortunate. M ^ a The CAPTIVIXr 0*- 2AD0CK STEELE. 275 ^« ( a Mmes of a Part of the Persons killed and taken at the Burn- ing of Royalton. Zadock Steele, taken at Randolph. Experience Davis. Elias Curtis. J. Parks. Moses Parsons. Simeon Belknap, now living in Randolph. Samuel Pember, Thomas Pember, kiUed at Royalton. Gardner Rix, now living at Royalton. Daniel Downer. Joseph Kneeland, killed at the encampment at Randolph. Jonathan Brown, now residing in WiUiamstown. Adan Durkee, died at Montreal. Joseph Havens. Peter Hutchinson. John Hutchinson, now living in Bethel. " Avery. John Kent. Peter Mason. Giles Gibbs, killed at Randolph. Elias Button, killed at Royalton. Nathaniel Gilbert. The following Persons were released by the Intercession of Mrs. Hendee. Daniel Downer, Jr. Andrew Durkee. Michael Hendee. 276 INfDIAN NARRATIVES. Roswell Parkhurst. Shelden Durkee. Joseph Rix. Rufus Fish. Fish. Nathaniel Evans. V r\ I 1 fiMp^f ^ ^ j7Uf1 "^H ('.■• If ,» f: M OI4 «rt^»H| id^\i.^x ^^, 'iUi >' ^jfI4.| '.»/y; f\ni I y^