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 TRAGEDIES 
 
 Ot THE WILDERNESS; 
 
 rr 
 
 OR, 
 
 TRUE AND AutHENTIC NARRATIVES OF CAPTIVES, 
 
 WHO HAYB BBEN«CAR|IED AWAY BY THE INDIANS FROM THE VARI- 
 OUS FRONTIER SETTLEMENTS OF THE UNITED STATES, 
 FROM THE EARUEST TO THE PRESENT TIME. * 
 
 ILLUSTRATING 
 
 THE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS, BARBAROUS RITES AND CERE- 
 MONIES, OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS, AND THEIR 
 VARIOUS METHODS OF TORTURE PRACTISED UFON 
 SUCH AS HAVE, FROM TIME TO TIME, FALLEN 
 \^ INTO THEIR HANDS. 
 
 ^#,: 
 
 ^ 
 
 BY SAMUEL O. DRAKE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE BOOK OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 '♦'. .. 
 
 • ■"»■ u'.' ■ '■ 
 
 Happy the riativoii of this distant clime, 
 faEreEuit " 
 
 ■l^re Europe'H sons were known or Europe's crimes. 
 
 Chorchill. 
 
 'Tis theirs to triumph, ours to die I 
 But mark me, Christian, ere I go, 
 Tliott, too, Shalt have thy share of woe I 
 
 Frbmiav. 
 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 ANTIQUARIAN BOOKSTORE AND INSTITUTE, 
 
 56Cornhill. 
 1844. 
 
 .-V- 
 
L'? 
 
 £%S Dl$l^ t'<^A4 
 
 «:'. 
 
 0' * 
 
 -■-'^' 
 
 Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1839, 
 
 BY SAMUEL G. DRAKE, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 
 
 STEREOTTFED BT 
 GEO. A. ft J. CURTIS, 
 
 UroUkKD TTPB AND BTBBBOTTPB VOUMDRT| BOnOM. 
 
 
 I 
 
^J4^ 
 
 READER- 
 
 This volume consists of entire Narratives ; that is to say, I have given 
 the originals nvithout the slightest abridgment; nor have I taken any 
 liberties with the language of any of them, which would in the remotest 
 degree change the sense of a single passage, and the instances are few in 
 which I have ventured to correct peculiarities of expression ; yet I designed 
 that, with regard to grammatical accuracy, there should be as few faults 
 as the nature of such a performance would allow. All expressions of an 
 antiquated date are not attempted to be changed. Some redundancies 
 have been dropped, which could only have been retained at the expense 
 of perspicuity. 
 
 I am not unaware that there may be persons who will doubt of the 
 propriety of laying before all classes of the community a work which 
 records so much that is shocking to humanity ; but the fashion of studying 
 the book of Nature has now long obtained, and pervades all classes. I 
 have done no more than to exhibit a page of it in this collection. To 
 observe man in his uncivilized or natural state offers an approach to a 
 knowledge of his natural history, without which it is hardly obtained. 
 
 We find volumes upon volumes on the manners and customs of the 
 Indians, many of the writers of whi9h would have us believe they have 
 exhausted the subject, and consequently we need inquire no further; 
 but whoever has travelled among distant tribes, or read the accounts of 
 intelligent travellers, do not require to be told that the most endless variety 
 exists, and that the manners and customs of uncultivated nations are no 
 more stationary, nor so much so, as are those of a civilized people. The 
 current of time changes all things. But we have elsewhere observed* 
 that similar necessities, although in different nations, have produced 
 similar customs ; such as will stand through ages with very little, if any, 
 variation. Neither is it strange that similar articulations should be found 
 m languages having no other affinity, because imitations of natural 
 sounds must everywhere be the same. Hence it follows that customs 
 are as various as the face of nature itself. 
 
 A lecturer on the manners and customs of certain tribes of Indians may 
 assure us that no others observe certain barbarous rites, and that, as they 
 by some sudden mortality have become extinct, the knowledge of those 
 rites is known to none others save himself, and that therefore he is the 
 
 * Book of the Indians, Book i., p. 10. 
 
 llanos 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 only person liring who can inform us of them. But he may be assured 
 that captives and other travellers have witnessed customs and ceremonies, 
 which, together with their performers, have passed away also. And there 
 U another view of the matter. Many a custom, as it existed flAy or a 
 hundred years ago, has become quite a different affair now. From these 
 reflections it is easy to see what an endless task it would be to describe 
 all of the manners and customs of a single tribe of Indians, to say nothing 
 of the thousands which have been and still exist. 
 
 These observations have been thrown out for the consideration of such 
 •8 may be looking for some great work upon Indian manners and customs, 
 to comprehend all they have been taught to expect, from those who have, 
 perhaps, thought no deeper upon the subject than themselves. When the 
 reader shall have perused the following narratives, I doubt not he will be 
 convinced of the truth of what has here been delivered. 
 
 This is truly an age of essay writing, and we have them in abundance 
 npon every thing and nothing, instead of facts which should be remem- 
 bered. If a new work upon travels or history appeals, we shall doubtless 
 be delighted with descriptions of elegant scenery and splendid sketches 
 about general matters, but arise from its perusal about as ignorant of the 
 events of the history we desire as before. Compositions of this descrip- 
 tion form no part of these pages. 
 
 I have on other occasions stood out boldly in favor of the oppressed 
 Indian, and I know that a book of Indian Captivities is calculated to 
 exhibit their character in no very favorable light ; but the reader should 
 remember that, in the following narratives, it is not I who speak ; yet I 
 believe that, with very small allowances, these narratives are entirely 
 true. The errors, if any, will be fpund only cri'ors of judgment, which 
 affect not their veracity. 
 
 A people whose whole lives are spent in war, and who live by a con* 
 tinual slaughter of all kinds of animals, must necessarily cultivate ferocity. 
 From the nature of their circumstances they are obliged always to be in 
 expectation of invasion ; living in small communities, dispersed in small 
 parties of five or ten upon hunting expeditions, they are easily surprised 
 by an enemy of equal or even a lesser force. Indians, consequently, are 
 always speaking of strange Indians whom they know not, nor do they 
 know whether such are to appear (torn one direction or another. When 
 New England was first settled, the Indians about Massachusetts Bay 
 were in a miserable fright from fear of the Tarratines ; skulking from 
 copse to copse by day, and sleeping in loathsome fens by night, to avoid 
 them. And all the New England Indians were in constant expectation 
 of the Mohawks ; and scarce a tribe existed in any part of the country 
 who did not constantly expect to be attacked by some other. And such 
 was the policy of those people that no calculation could be made upon 
 their operations or pretensions, inasmuch as the honor of an action de- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 pended on the manner in which it was executed. No credit was obtained 
 by open combat, but he that could ensnare and smite uu unsuspecting 
 enemy was highly to be commended. 
 
 It must have very oAcn happened that the people surprised knew 
 nothing of any reason why they were so dealt with, and the injury for 
 which they suffered may have been committed by their ancestors long 
 before they had existence ; and the only sure means a tribe had to avert 
 retaliation was extermination ! Hence the perpetual u arfure of these 
 people. 
 
 As there are a few other collections of Indian Narratives of a similar 
 character to this, it may be necessary to advertise the reader that such are 
 similar in title only ; for in those collections the compilers speak for their 
 captives, whereas, in this, they speak for themselves. Those collectors 
 have not only taken upon themselves to speak for their captives or heroes, 
 but have so abridged the majority of their narratives that the perusal 
 of them only gives dissatisfaction even to the general reader. Mr. 
 McClung's " Sketches of Western Adventure" is a work of thrilling 
 interest, but its value is entirely lost in particular instances from the 
 above considerations. Dr. Metcalf was earlier, and set out right, but 
 looked back with his hand to the plough. I know of no others worthy of 
 notice. 
 
 As several prominent narratives may be looked for in this collection 
 without success, such as those of Hannah Duston, Rev. John Williams, 
 &c., it will be proper to apprize the reader that those, and many others, 
 are contained in the Book of the Indians. 
 
 I did not design to notice the works of others, in Indian history, in this 
 introduction ; but accidentally falling upon some acts of pre-eminent injus- 
 tice to my former labors, committed by several compilers, whose works, 
 from their peculiar point of emanation, or ostentatious external attractions, 
 are calculated to fix in the minds of their readers wrong impressions in 
 respect to the sources whence they have drawn their information, I could 
 not, in justice to myself, let them pass without a notice. For an author 
 to spend many of his best years in the most laborious investigations to 
 bring out a train of facts upon an important inquiry, which, in all proba- 
 bility, no other would ever have taken the pains to have done, from the 
 peculiar nature and difficulty of the undertaking, or situation of the mate- 
 rials out of which he had brought them, and then to see them, no sooner 
 than produced, transferred to ihe pages of others without even a 'demand 
 for them upon their author, is matter of which I complain, and, to say the 
 least, is too barefaced' a piracy even for this age of freebooting in matters 
 of literature. Had the author of the Book of the Indians been dead, 
 leaving but a single copy of his work behind, and that an unpublished 
 manuscript, some of the compilers, to whom I allude, could scarcely have 
 been freer in their use of it without the hope of detection. No charge is 
 1* 
 
\ 
 
 TI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 here intended against such a? have copied whole pages into their ofWB 
 works, where they have even acknowledged their source of information ; 
 but I would point the eyes of all such as nuiy read this to their own 
 pages, which have been transferred from that work, or so concocted out 
 of it as to induce the belief that it was the fruits of their own labor. Such 
 compilers, doubtless, presume only their own works will be read on the 
 subject of the Indians ; or thai the obscure and humble author of the 
 Book of the Indians had no means of exposing their piracies. And even 
 now, " after all said and done," perhaps Queen Victoria will nev6r read 
 this preface, or compare the pages of the great folio " Biography and 
 History of the Indians" with those of the Book of the Indians ; 3'et there 
 may be those on this siue of the Atlantic who may be benefited by this, 
 though indirect, information. Besides, I am too late now to send a book 
 to her majesty, with the slightest prbspect of her ever reading ii, for the 
 very reason that she has already several books by American authors on 
 hand ! And if she has read even one, is it to be presumed she would 
 ever read another ? Moreover, what would she care whether Col. Stone 
 gave me credit for a fact, or Mr. Thacher, or Henry Trumbull? 
 
 f 
 
 •- ^il^. 
 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The following Tabfe conte^s the names of the captives, the time of 
 their being taken, and th4^^|j|nration of their captivity, where the dates 
 could be ascertained. ' t. 
 
 Name of Captive. 
 
 When taken. | 
 
 Where. 
 
 I Time retotoed. IFage 
 
 John Ortiz 
 Mary Rowl&ndson 
 Quintin Stockwell 
 Sai-ah Gerish 
 Elizabeth Heard 
 John Gyles 
 Robert Rogers 
 
 Mehetable Goodwin 
 Thomas Toogood 
 Elizat|lh Hanson 
 Nehe&iah How 
 
 Mary Fowler 
 John Fitch 
 Isabella M'Coy 
 Peter Williamson 
 
 Jemima Howe 
 Frances Noble 
 Capt. Jona. Carver 
 Col. James Smith 
 Robert EaStbum 
 A Mrs. Clendenin 
 Alexander Henry 
 Frederick Manheim 
 
 Experience Bozarth 
 
 John Corbly 
 Frances Scott 
 Capt. "Wm. Hubbell 
 Massy Herbeson 
 Serg. L. Munson 
 
 Ransom Clark 
 J. W. B. Thompson 
 
 1528 
 lOFeb.1676 
 19Sep.l677 
 28 June, '89 
 28 June, '89 
 2 Aug. 1689 
 27 Mai'. '90 
 
 27 « 1690 
 27 " 1690 
 27Jun.l724 
 11 Oct. 1745 
 
 22 Ap. 1746 
 July, 1746 
 
 21 Au. 1747 
 2 Oct. 1754 
 
 27 Jul 1755 
 About 1755 
 9 Aug. 1755 
 May, 1755 
 
 27 Mar. '56 
 Year 1763 
 4 June, 1763 
 19 Oct. 1779 
 
 March, 1779 
 
 May, 1782 
 29iun.l785 
 
 23 Mar. '91 
 
 22 Ma. 1792 
 17 Oct.1793 
 
 28 Dec.1835 
 
 23 Jul. 1836 
 
 Florida 
 
 Lancaster, Mass. 
 Deerfield, Mass. 
 Dover, N. H, 
 Dover, N. H. 
 Femmaquid,Me. 
 Salmon Falls, N. 
 [Hampshire. 
 Sal. Falls, N. H. 
 Sal. Falls, N.H. 
 Dover, N. H. 
 Great Meadows, 
 
 [Mass. 
 Hopkinton, N.H. 
 Ashby, Mass. 
 Epsom, N. H. 
 Delaware Forks, 
 [Pa. 
 Hinsdale, N. H. 
 Swan Island, Me. 
 Ft. Wm. Henry 
 Bedford, Pa. 
 Williams' Ft. Pa. 
 Green Brier, Va. 
 Michilimackinac 
 Nc"'" Johnston, 
 
 [N.Y. 
 Dunkard'sCreek, 
 [Kentucky. 
 Muddy Crk. Ky. 
 AVash'n. Co., Va. 
 Ohio river 
 
 Near Fort Jeffer- 
 [son, Ohio. 
 Florida [House. 
 Cape Florida Lt. 
 
 Nine years 
 To 12 April, 1676 
 About one year 
 Six months 
 Remark'e escape 
 Six years 
 Tortur'd to death 
 
 Five years 
 Fortunate escape 
 One yr. Ac 6 days 
 Died in captivity 
 
 Six months 
 To close of war 
 To close of war 
 One year and 3 
 [months. 
 About five years 
 About 12 years 
 Made his escape 
 About six years 
 2 yrs. & 8 ino*«. 
 Escaped 
 About one year 
 
 Great prowess 
 
 Escape 
 
 Escape 
 
 Desp. encounter 
 
 Escape 
 
 Escape, 8 mo's. 
 
 Escape 
 Escape 
 
 11 
 20 
 60 
 70 
 71 
 73 
 109 
 
 111 
 112 
 113 
 127 
 
 140 
 139 
 143 
 147 
 
 156 
 165 
 172 
 178 
 265 
 284 
 286 
 333 
 
 334 
 
 335 
 337 
 342 
 349 
 352 
 
 355 
 357 
 
 ^5^ 
 
I.. 
 
 h 
 
 ,\ 
 
,,;.;-,..- ;,--,,^i,S.- 
 
 #■-■' 
 
 INDIAN CAPTIVITIES. 
 
 ii^ 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE CAPTIVITY OP JOHN ORTIZ, A SPANIARD, WHO WAS 
 ELEVEN YEARS A PRISONER AMONG THE INDUNS OF 
 FLORIDA. 
 
 In the year 1528 Pamphilo de Narvaez, with a commission, 
 constituting him governor of Florida, or " all the lands lying 
 from the river of Palms to the cape of Florida," sailed for that 
 country with 400 foot and 20 horse, in five ships. With this 
 expedition went a Spaniard, named John Ortiz, a native of 
 Seville, whose connections were among the nohility 'of Castile'. 
 Although we have no account of what part Ortiz acted iii 
 Narvaez's expedition, or how he escaped its disastrous issue, 
 yet it may not he deemed out of place to notice briefly here 
 that issue. 
 
 This Narvaez had acquired some notoriety by the* manner in 
 which he had executed a commission against Cortez. He had 
 been ordered by the governor of Cuba to seize the destroyer 
 of Mexico, but was himself overthrown and deserted by his 
 men. On falling into the hands of Cortez, his arrogancp did 
 not forsake him, and he addressed him thus : " Esteem it good 
 fortune that you have taken me prisoner." "Nay," replied 
 Cortez, " it is the least of the things I have done in Mexico." 
 To return to the expedition of which we have promised to 
 speak. 
 
 Narvaez landed in Florida not very far from, or perhaps at 
 the bay of Apalachee, in tne month of April, and marched 
 into the country with his men. They knew no other direction 
 but that pointed out by the Indians, whom they compelled to 
 act as guides. Their first disappointment was on their arrival 
 
 - ■ V 
 
^VM^ 
 
 
 ■*« 
 
 % 
 
 10 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 i: •*■" 
 
 '( 
 
 at the village of Apalachee, where, instead of a splendid town, 
 filled with immense treasure, as they had anticipated, they 
 found only about 40 Indian wigwams. When they visited 
 one Indian town its inhabitants would get rid of them by tell- 
 ing them of another, where their wants would be gratified. 
 Such was the manner in which Narvaez and his companions 
 rambled over 800 miles of country, in about six months' time , at 
 a vast expense of men and necessaries which they carried with 
 them ; for the Indians annoyed them at every pass, not only 
 cutting off many of the men, but seizing on their baggage up- 
 on every occasion which offered. Being now arrived upon the 
 coast, in a wretched condition, they constructed some miserable 
 barks corresponding with their means, in which none but men 
 in such extremities would embark. In these they coasted toward 
 New Spain. When they came near the mouths of the Mis-^ 
 -sissippi they were cast away in a storm, and all but 15 of their 
 number perished. Out of these 15, 4 only lived to reach 
 Mexico, and these after 8 years wholly spent in wanderings 
 from place to place, enduring incredible hardships and mise- 
 ries. 
 
 The next year after the end of Narvaez's expedition, the 
 intelligence of his disaster having reached his wife, whom he 
 left in Cuba, she fitted out a small company, consisting of 20 
 or 30 men, who sailed in a brigantine to search after him, 
 ^ hoping some fortuitous circumstance might have prolonged his 
 ' existence upon the coast, and that he might be found. Of this 
 number was John Ortiz, the subject of this narrative. 
 
 On their arrival there, they sought an opportunity to have 
 an interview with the first Indians they should meet. Oppor- 
 tunity immediately offered, and as soon as Indians were dis- 
 covered, the Spaniards advanced towards them in their boats, 
 while the Indians came down to the shore. These wily peo- 
 ple practised a stratagem upon this occasion, which to this day 
 seents a mysterious one, and we have no means of explain- 
 ing it. 
 
 Three or four Indians came near the shore, and setting a 
 stick in the ground, placed in a cleft in its top a letter, and 
 withdrawing a little distance, made signs to the Spaniards to 
 come and take it. All the company, except John Ortiz and one 
 more, refused to go out for the letter, rightly judging it to be 
 used only to ensnare them ; but Ortiz, presuming it was from 
 Narvaez, and containing some account of himself, would not 
 be persuaded from venturing on shore to bring it, although all 
 the rest but the one who accompanied him strenuously argued 
 against it. 
 
 Now there was an Indian village very near this place, and 
 
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 CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 13 
 
 no sooner hai Ortiz ai)|d his companion advanced to the place 
 where the letter was displayed, than a multitude came running 
 from it, and surrounding them, seized eagerly upon them. 
 The number of the Indians was so great, that the Spaniards 
 in the vessels did not dare to attempt to rescue them, and saw 
 them carried forcibly away. In this first onset the man who 
 accompanied Qrtiz was killed, he having made resistance when 
 he was seized. 
 
 Not far from the place where they were made prisoners, ^as 
 another Indian town, or village, consisting of about 8 or 10 
 houses or wigwams. These houses were made of wood, and 
 covered with palm-leaves. At one end of this village there 
 was a building, which the captive called a temple, but of what 
 dimensions it was he makes no mention. Over the door of 
 entrance into this temple there was placed the figure of a bird, 
 carved out in wood, and it was especially surprising that this 
 bird had gilded eyes. No attempt is made by Ortiz even to 
 conjecture how or by whom the art of gilding was practised, 
 in this wild and distant region, nor does he mention meeting 
 with any other specimen of that art during his captivity. At 
 the opposite extremity of this village stood the house of the 
 chief, or cazique, as he was often called, upon an eminence, 
 raised, as it was supposed, for a fortification. These things re- 
 mained the same ten years afterwards, and are mentioned by 
 the historian of Fernando De Soto's Invasion of Florida. The 
 name of the chief of this village was Ucita, before whom was 
 presented the captive, Ortiz, who was condemned to suflfer im- 
 mediate death. 
 
 The manner of his death was by torture, which was to be 
 effec^d in this vvj^e. The executioners set four stakes in the 
 ground and to tffe^e they fastened four poles ; the captive was 
 then taken, and with his arms and legs extended, was by them 
 bound to these poles, at such a distance from the ground, that 
 a fire, made dirtKHly under him, would be a long time in con- 
 suming him. Never did a poor victim look with greater cer- 
 tainty to death for relief, than did John Ortiz at this time. 
 The fire had already begun to rage, when a most remarkable 
 circumstance happened "to save his life — a daughter of the 
 stern Ucita arose and plead for him. Among other things she 
 said these to her father : " My kind father, why kill this poor 
 stranger ? he can do you nor any of us any injury, seeing he 
 is but one and alone. It is better that you should keep him 
 confined ; for even in that condition he may sometime be of 
 firr«»at service to you." The chief was silent for a short time, 
 but finally ordered him to be released from his place of torture. 
 They had no sooner taken the thongs from his wrists and 
 
 45, 
 
^# 
 
 u 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 •*. 
 
 > 
 
 «* 
 
 
 ankles, than they proceeded to wash an4 dress hia wounds, and 
 to do things to make him comfortable. 
 
 As soon as his wounds were healed, Ortiz was stationed at 
 the entrance of the temple, before mentioned, to guard it 
 against such as were not allowed to enter there ; but espe- 
 cially to guard its being profaned by wild beasts ; for as it was 
 a place of sacrifices, wolves were its constant visitors. He had 
 not long been in this office, when an event occurred, which 
 threw him into great consternation. Human victims were 
 brought in as sacrifices and deposited here ; and not long after 
 Ortiz had been placed as sentinel, the body of a young Indian 
 was brought and laid upon a kind of sarcophagus, which, 
 from the multitudes that had from time to time been offered 
 there, was surrounded with blood and bones ! a most rueful 
 sight, as ever any eye beheld ! — here an arm fresh torn from 
 its place, reeking with blood, another exhibiting but bone and 
 sinews from the mangling jaws of wild beasts ! Such was 
 the place he was ordered to guard, through day and night — 
 doomed to sit himself down among this horrible assemblage 
 of the dead. When left alone he reflected that his escape 
 from fire was not so fortunate for him as he had hoped ; for 
 now, his naturally superstitious mind was haunted by the pres- 
 ence of innumerable ghosts, who stalked in every place, and 
 which he had from his youth been taught to believe were capa- 
 ble of doing him all manner of injuries, even to the depriving 
 of life. 
 
 There was no reflection in those remote ages of the real 
 situation of all the living, in respect to the great valley of death 
 in which all beings are born and nursed, and which no length 
 of years is sufficient to carry them through. Let us fo^yi mo- 
 ment cast our eyes around us. Where are we ? Norm the 
 same temple with Ortiz, but in one equally vast. We can see 
 nothing but death in every place. The very ground we walk 
 upon is composed of the decayed limbs of our own species, with 
 those of a hundred others. A succession of animals have been 
 rising and falling for many thousand years in all parts of the 
 world. They have died all around us — in our very places. 
 We do not distinctly behold the hands, the feet, or the bones of 
 them, because they have crumbled to dust beneath our feet. 
 And cannot the ghosts of these as well arise as of those slain 
 yesterday ? The affirmative cannot be denied. 
 
 As we have said, Ortiz found himself snatched from one 
 dreadful death, only, as he imagined, to be thrust into the jaws 
 of another, yet more terrible. Experience, however, soon 
 proved to him, that the dead, at least those with whom he was 
 forced to dwell, either could or would not send forth their 
 
 m 
 
 
CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 1« 
 
 
 spirits in any other shape than such phantoms as his own mind 
 created, in dreams and reveries. We can accustom ourselves 
 to almost anything, and it was not long before our captive 
 contemplated the dead bodies with v/hich he was surrounded, 
 with about the same indifference as he did the walls of the 
 temple that encompassed them. 
 
 How long after Ortiz had been placed to guard the temple 
 of sacrifices the following fearful midnight adventure hap- 
 pened, we have no means of slating with certainty, nor is it 
 very material ; it is, however, according to his own account, as 
 follows : A young Indian had been killed and his body placed 
 in this temple. Late one night, Ortiz found it closely invested 
 by wolves, which, in spite of all his efforts, entered the place, 
 and carried away the body of the Indian. The fright and the 
 darkness were so heavy upon Ortiz that he knew not that the 
 body was missing until morning. It appears, however, that he 
 recovered himself, seized a heavy cudgel, which he had pre- 
 pared at hand, and commenced a general attack upon the beasts 
 in the temple, and not only drove them out, but pursued them 
 a good way from the place. In the pursuit he came up with 
 one which he gave a mortal blow, although he did not know it 
 at the time. Having returned from this hazardous adventure 
 to the temple, he impatiently awaited the return pf daylight. 
 When the day dawned, great was his distress at the discovery 
 of the loss of the body of the dead Indian, which was especially 
 aggravated, because it was the son of a great chief. 
 
 When the r -iws of this affair came to the ears of Ucita, he 
 at once resolved to have Ortiz put to death ; but before execut- 
 ing his purpose he sent out several Indians to pursue after the 
 wolveai, to recover, if possible, the sacrifice. Contrary to all 
 expectation, the body was found, and not far from it the body of 
 a huge wolf also. When Ucita learned these facts, he coun- 
 termanded the order for his execution. 
 
 Three long years was Ortiz doomed to watch this wretched 
 temple of ♦he dead. At the end of this time he was relieved 
 only by the overthrow of the power of Ucita. This was ef- 
 fected by a war between the two rival chiefs, Ucita and Mo- 
 coso. 
 
 The country over which Mocoso reigned was only two days' 
 journey from that of Ucita, and separated from it by a large 
 river or estuary. Mocoso came upon the village of Ucita in 
 the night with an army, and attacked his castle, and took 
 it, and also the rest of his town. Ucita and his people fled 
 from it with all speed, and the warriors of Mocoso burnt 
 it to the ground. Ucita had another village upon the coast, 
 not far from the former, to which he and his people fled, ai^d 
 
 ¥. 
 
 > 
 
16 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 were not pursued by their enemies. Soon after he had esta^ 
 blishcd himself in his new residence, he resolved upon making 
 a sacrifice of Ortiz. Here again he was wonderfully preserved, 
 by the same kind friend that had delivered him at the begin- 
 mng of his captivity. The daughter of the chief, knowing 
 hex intreaties would avail nothing with her father, determined 
 to aid him to make an escape ; accordingly, she had prepared 
 the way for his reception with her father's enemy, Mocoso. 
 She found means to pilot him secretly out of her father's vil- 
 lage, and accompanied him a league or so on his way, and 
 then left him with directions how to proceed to the residence 
 of Mocoso. Having travelled all night as fast as he could, 
 Ortiz found himself next morning upon the borders of the river 
 which bounded the territories of the two rival chiefs. He was 
 now thrown into great trouble, for he could not proceed farther 
 without discovery, two of Mocoso's men being then fishing in 
 the river ; and, although he came as a friend, yet he had no 
 way to make that known to them, not understanding their lan- 
 guage, nor having means wherewith to discover his character 
 by a sign. At length he observed their arms, which they had 
 left at considerable distance from the place where they then 
 were. Therefore, as his only chance of succeeding in his en- 
 terprise, he crept slyly up and seized their arms to prevent 
 their mjuring him. When they saw this they fled with all 
 speed towards their town. Ortiz followed them for some dis- 
 tance, trying by language as well as by signs to make them 
 understand that he only wished protection with them, but all 
 in vain, and he gave up the pursuit and waited quietly the 
 result. It was not long before a large party came running 
 armed towards him, and when they approached, he was obliged 
 to cover himself behind trees to avoid their arrows. Never- 
 theless his chance of being killed seemed certain, and that 
 very speedily ; but it providentially happened, that there was 
 an Indian among them who now surrounded him, who under- 
 stood the language in which he spoke, and thus he was again 
 rescued from another perilous situation. 
 
 Having now surrendered himself into the hands of the In- 
 dians, four of their number were dispatched to carry the tidings 
 to Mocoso, and to learn his pleasure in regard to the disposition 
 to be made of him ; but instead of sending any word of direc- 
 tion, Mocoso went himself out to meet Ortiz. When he came 
 to him, he expressed great joy at seeing him, and made every 
 profession that he would treat him well. Ortiz, however, had 
 seen enough of Indians to warn him against a too implicit 
 confidence in his pretensions ; and what added in no small 
 degree to his doubts about his future destiny, was this very 
 
CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 If 
 
 Extraordinary circumstance. Immediately after the preliminary 
 congratulations were over, the chief made him take an oath, 
 ♦• after the manner of Christians," that he would not run away 
 from him to seek out another master ; to which he very readily 
 assented. At the same time Mocoso, on his part, promised 
 Ortiz that he would not only treat him with due kindness, but, 
 that if ever an opportunity offered by which he could return to 
 his own people, he would do all in his power to assist him in 
 it; and, to keep his word inviolate, he swore to what he had 
 promised, " after the manner of the Indians." Nevertheless, 
 our captive looked upon all this in no other light than as a 
 piece of cunning, resorted to by the chief, to make him only a 
 contented slave ; but we shall see by the sequel, that this In- 
 dian chief dealt not in European guile, and that he was actuated 
 only by benevolence of heart. 
 
 Three years more soon passed over the head of Ortiz, and 
 he experienced nothing but kindness and liberty. He spent 
 his time in wandering over the delightful savannahs of Florida, 
 and through the mazes of the palmetto, and beneath the re- 
 freshing shades of the wide-spreading magnolia — pursuing 
 the deer in the twilight of morning, and the scaly fry in the 
 silver lakes in the cool of the evening. In all this time we 
 hear of nothing remarkable that happened to Ortiz, or to the 
 chief or his people. When war or famine does not disturb the 
 quiet of Indians they enjoy themselves to the full extent of 
 their natures — perfectly at leisure, and ready to devote days 
 together to the entertainment of themselves, and any travel- 
 lers or friends that may sojourn with them. 
 
 About the close of the first three years of Ortiz's sojourning 
 with the tribe of Indians under Mocoso, there came startling 
 intelligence into their village, and alarm and anxiety sat im- 
 patiently upon the brow of all the inhabitants. This was 
 occasioned by the arrival of a runner, who gave information 
 that as some of Mocoso's men were in their canoes a great way 
 out at sea fishing, they had discovered ships of the white men 
 approaching their coast. Mocoso, after communing with him- 
 self a short time, went to Ortiz with the information, which, 
 when he had imparted it to him, caused peculiar sensations in 
 his breast, and a brief struggle with conflicting feelings ; for 
 one cannot forget his country and kindred, nor can he forget 
 his savior and protector. In short, Mocoso urged him to go to 
 the coast and see if he could make a discovery of the ships. 
 This proceeding on the part of the chief silenced the fears of 
 Ortiz, and he set out upon the discovery ; but when he had 
 spent several days of watchfulness and eager expectation, with- 
 out seeing or gaining any other intelligence of ships, he was 
 
 4. 
 
. 
 
 I 
 
 18 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 ready to accuse the chief of practising deception upon him, to 
 try his fidelity ; he was soon satisfied, however, that his sus- 
 picions were without foundation, although no other information 
 was ever gained of ships at that time. 
 
 At length, when six years more had elapsed, news of a less 
 doubtful character was brought to the village of Mocoso. It 
 was, that some white people had actually landed upon their 
 coast, and had possessed themselves of the village of Urista, 
 and driven out him and his men. Mocoso immediately im- 
 parted this information to Ortiz, who, presuming it was an idle 
 tale, as upon the former occasion, affected to care nothing for 
 it, and told his chief that no wordly thing would induce him to 
 leave his present master ; but Mocoso persisted, and among 
 arguments advanced this, that he had done his duty, and thit 
 if Ortiz would nut go out and seek his white brethren, and 
 they should leave the country, and him behind, he could not 
 blame him, and withal seriously confirming the news. In the 
 end he concluded to go out once more, and after thanking his 
 chief for his great kindness, set off, with twelve of his best 
 men whom Mocoso had appointed for his guides, to find the 
 white people. 
 
 When they had proceeded a considerable part of the way, 
 they came into a plain, and suddenly in sight of a party of 120 
 men, who proved to be some of those of whom they had heard. 
 When they discovered Ortiz and his men, they pressed towards 
 them in warlike array, and although they made every signal 
 of friendship in their power, yet these white men rushed upon 
 them, barbarously wounding two of them, and the others saved 
 themselves only by flight. Ortiz himself came near being 
 killed. A horseman rushed Mpon him, knocked him down, 
 and was prevented from dealing a deadly blow only by a 
 timely ejaculation in Spanish which he made. It was in these 
 words : " I am a Christian — do not kill me, nor these poor men 
 who have given me my life." 
 
 It was not until this moment that the soldiers iliscovered 
 their mistake, of friends for enemies, for Ortiz was. in : M ap- 
 pearance, an Indian; and now, with the aid of ^^aix, his; attend- 
 ing Indians were collected, and they were all carried to the 
 canr.p of the white men, each riding behind a soldier upon his 
 horse 
 
 Or'.'Z now found himself among an army of Spaniards, 
 comir a.f'^sd by one Fernando De Soto, who had come imp that 
 couf.try with e ^^reat armament of 600 men in 7 ships, in search 
 of riches ; an expedilion undertaken with great ostentation, 
 raised by ihe expectation of what it was to afford, but it ended, 
 «8 all such undertakings should, in disgrace and mortification. 
 
CAPTIVITY or JOHN ORTIZ. 
 
 19 
 
 *"" »lo considered the acquisition of Urti/ of very great impor* 
 tance, for although he could not direct him to any mountains 
 of gold or silver, yet he was acquainted with the language of 
 the Indians, and he kept him 'ith him during his memorable 
 expedition, to act in the capacity of interpreter. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1543, that the ferocious and siivnge 
 Soto fell a prey to his misguided ambition. Ortiz had died a 
 few months before, and with him fell the already disappointed 
 hopes cT his leader. They had taken up winter quarters at a 
 nl.ico ci'lled Autiamque, upon the Washita, or perhaps Red 
 fiive: ai i it was here that difHculties began to thicken upon 
 them. When in the spring they would march from thence, 
 S .'0 was grieved, because he had lost so good an interpreter, 
 and readily felt that difiiculties were clustering around in a 
 much more formidable array. Hitherto, when they were at a 
 lv>ss for a knowledge of the country, all they had to do was to 
 lie in wait and seize upon some Indian, and Ortiz always could 
 understand enough of the language to relieve them from all 
 perplexity about their course ; but now they had no other 
 interpreter but a young Indian of Cutifachiqui, who understood 
 a little Spanish ; •' yet it required sometimes a whole day for 
 him to explain what Ortiz would have done in four words." 
 At other times he was so entirely misunderstood, that after 
 they had followed his direction through a tedious march of a 
 whole day, they would find themselves obliged to return again 
 to the same place." 
 
 Such was the value of Ortiz in the expedition of Sot , as 
 that miserable man conceived ; but had not Soto fallen in with 
 him, how different would have been the fate of a multitude of 
 men, Spaniards and Indians. Upon the whole, it is hard to 
 say which was the predominant trait in the character of Soto 
 and. his followers, avarice or cruelty. 
 
 At one time, because their guides had led them out of the 
 way, Moscoso, the successor of Soto, caused them to be hanged 
 upon a tree aid there left. Another, in the early part of the 
 expedition, was saved from the fangs of dogs, at the interfer- 
 ence of Ortiz, because ho was the only Indian through whom 
 Ortiz could get information. It is as difficult to decide which 
 was the more superstitious, the Indians or the self-styled 
 "Christian "^niards;" for when Soto died a chief came and 
 offered two y^)ur»g Indians to be killed, that they might accom- 
 pany and serrp the white man to the world of spirits. An 
 Indian gu*^ being violently seized with some malady, fell 
 senseless wu the gronrf'l To raise him, and drive away the 
 devil which they supposed was in him, they read a passage 
 over his body from the Bible, and he immediately recovered. 
 
I!! 
 
 't 
 
 t ' 
 
 
 20 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Thus we have given all the particulars we can derive from 
 authentic sources of the captivity and death of John Ortiz. 
 Of Soto's expedition, about which many writers of talents and 
 respectability have employed their pens, it was not our inten- 
 tion particularly to speak, but can refer those, whose curiosity 
 would lead them to pursue it, to a new edition of my Chroni- 
 cles OF THE Indians, shortly to be published ; but for a rapid 
 and splendid glance over that ground, I will refer the reader to 
 the first volume of Mr. Bancroft's History of the United States. 
 And yet if he would go into minute details, there is the work 
 of Mr. John T. Irving, which will leave little else to be looked 
 for. 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE CAPTIVITY OP MRS. MARY ROWLANDSON, WIPE OP 
 THE REV. JOSEPH ROWLANDSON, WHO WAS TAKEN PRIS- 
 ONER WHEN LANCASTER WAS DESTROYED, IN THE YEAR 
 1676; WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 
 
 I print this edition of Mrs. Rowlandson's Narrative from the second 
 Lancaster edition, with a selection of the notes to that edition, by Joseph 
 WiLLARD, Esq., which was printed in 1828. Mr. Willard calls his the 
 sixth edition. My own notes are, as in other parts of the work, signed 
 Ed. 
 
 On the 10th of February, 1676, came the Indians with great 
 numbers* upon Lancaster: their first coming was about sun- 
 rising. Hearing the noise of some guns, we looked out ; seve- 
 ral houses were burning, and the smoke ascending to heaven. 
 There were five persons taken in one house ; the father and 
 mother, and a sucking child they knocked on the head, the 
 other two they took and carried away alive. There were two 
 others, who, being out of their garrison upon occasion, were set 
 upon, one was knocked on the head, the other escaped. An- 
 other there was, who, running along, was shot and wounded, 
 and fell down ; he begged of them his life, promising them 
 money, as they told me, but they would not hearken to him, 
 but knocked him on the head, stripped him naked, and 
 split open his bowels. Another, seeing many of the Indians 
 
 * Fifteen hundred was the number, according to the best authorities. 
 They were the Wamponoags, led by King Philip, accomnanied by the 
 Narrhagansetts, his allies, and also by the Nipmucks and Nashaways, 
 whom fajs artful eloquence had persuaded to join with him. 
 
 Kfl 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 21 
 
 about his barn, ventured and went out, but was quickly shot 
 down. There were three othets belonging to the same garri- 
 son who were killed ; the Indians getting up upon the roof of 
 the barn, had advantage to shoot down upon them over their for- 
 tification. Thus these murderous wretches went on burning 
 and destroying all before them.* 
 
 At length they came and beset our house, and quickly it was 
 the dolefulest day that ever mine eyes saw. The house stood 
 upon the edge of a hill ; t some of the Indians got behind the 
 hill, others into the barn, and others behind any thing that 
 would shelter them ; from all which places they shot against 
 the house, so that the bullets seemed to fly like hail, and quick- 
 ly they wounded one man among us,"then another, and then a 
 [.third. About two hours, according to my observation in that 
 amazing time, they had been about the house before they pre- 
 vailed to fire it, which they did with flax and hemp which 
 they brought out of the barn, and there being no defence about 
 the house, only two flankers at two opposite corners, and one 
 of them not finished ; they fired it once, and one ventured out 
 and quenched it, but they quickly fired it again, and that took. 
 Now is the dreadful hour come that I have often heard of in 
 time of the war, as it was the case of others, but now mine 
 eyes see it. Some in our house were fighting for their lives, 
 others wallowing in blood, the house on fire over our heads, 
 and the bloody heathen ready to knock us on the head if we 
 stirred out. Now might we hear mothers and children crying 
 out for themselves and one another, " Lord, what shall loe do ! " 
 Then I took my children, and one of my sisters [Mrs. Drew] 
 hers to go forth and leave the house, but as soon as we came 
 to the door and appeared, the Indians shot so thick that the 
 bullets rattled against the house as if one had taken a handful 
 of stones and threw them, so that we were forced to give back. 
 
 -*i. 
 
 i i 
 
 #* 
 
 * Mr. Willard, in his History of Lancaster, says he cannot ascertain 
 that attacks were made in more than two places previous to that upon 
 Mr. Rowlandson's house ; the first of which was Wheeler's garrison, at 
 Wataquodoc hill, now south-west part of Bolton. Here they killed Jonas 
 Fairbanks and Joshua his son, fifteen years of age, and Richard Wheeler. 
 Wheeler had been in town about fifteen years. The second was Pres- 
 cott's garrison, near Poignand and Plant's cotton factory. Ephraim 
 Sawyer was killed here j and Henry Farrar and a Mr. Ball and his wife 
 in other places. V 
 
 f Mr. Rowlandson's house was on the brow of a small hill, on land now 
 owned by Nathaniel Chandler, Esq., about a third of a mile south-west of 
 the meeting-house, on the road leading from the centre of the town to the 
 village called New-Boston, about two rods from the road, which at that 
 time ran near the house. 
 
t^ 
 
 I ■ 
 
 »■ 
 
 ■[•l 
 
 i ' * 
 
 Yf '. 
 
 81 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 We had six stout dogs belonging to our garrison,'* but none of 
 thein would stir, though at another time if an Indian had come 
 to the door, they were ready to fly upon him and tear him 
 down. The Lord hereby would make us the more to acknow- 
 ledge his hand, and to see that our help is always in him. But 
 out we must go, the fire increasing, and coming along behind us 
 roaring, and the Indians gaping before us with their guns, 
 spears, and hatchets to devour us. No sooner were we out of 
 the house, but my brother-in-law t (being b fore wounded in 
 defending the house, in or near the throa./ fell down dead, 
 whereat the Indians scornfully shouted and hollowed, and were 
 presently upon him, stripping oflfhis clothes. The bullets fly- 
 ing thick, one went through my side, and the same, as would 
 seem, through the bowels and hand of my poor child in my 
 arms. One of my elder sister's children, named William, had 
 then his leg broke, which the Indians perceiving, they knocked 
 him on the head. Thus were we butchered by those merciless 
 heathens, standing amazed, with the blood running down to 
 our heels. My eldest sister t being yet in the house, and see- 
 ing those woful sights, the infidels hailing mothers one way 
 and children another, and some wallowing in their blood; and 
 her eldest son telling her that her son William was dead, and 
 myself was wounded, she said, " Lord, let me die with them ;" 
 which was no sooner said but she was struck with a bullet, 
 aud fell down dead over the threshold. I hope she is reaping 
 the fruit of her good labors, being faithful to the service of 
 God in her place. In her younger years she lay under much 
 trouble upon spiritual accounts, till it pleased God to make that 
 precious scripture take hold of her heart, 2 Cor. 12 : 9, — " And 
 he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee.^* More than 
 twenty years after, I have heard her tell how sweet and com- 
 fortable that place was to her. But to return : The Indians 
 laid hold of us, pulling me one way and the children another, 
 and said, " Come, go along with us." I told them they would 
 kill me; they answered, If I were loilling to go along with 
 them they would not hurt me. 
 
 Oh! the doleful sight that now was to behold at thi?^ house! 
 Come, behold the works of the Lord, what desolations he has 
 made in the earth. Of thirty-seven § persons who were in this 
 
 * Mr. Rowlandson's house was filled with soldiers and inhabitants, to 
 the ..umber of forty-two. 
 f Thomas Rowlandson, brother to the clergyman. 
 
 % Mrs. Kerley, wife of Capt. Henry Kerley, to whom she was married 
 in 1654. 
 
 ^ We have stated in a previous note that there were forty-two per$ons 
 
;*;^-.^-. 
 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 23 
 
 * but none of 
 ian had come 
 nd tear him 
 e to acknow- 
 in him. But 
 ng behind us 
 I their guns, 
 2re we out of 
 wounded in 
 down dead, 
 red, and were 
 le bullets fly- 
 me, as would 
 child in my 
 William, had 
 they knocked 
 ose merciless 
 ling down to 
 use, and see- 
 lers one way 
 r blood ; and 
 as dead, and 
 with them :" 
 vith a bullet, 
 le is reaping 
 le service of 
 under much 
 lo make that 
 9,— « And 
 More than 
 et and com- 
 rhe Indians 
 ran another, 
 they would 
 along with 
 
 thir house! 
 tions he has 
 were in this 
 
 inhabitants, to 
 
 I was married 
 jr-two persons 
 
 one house, none escaped either present death, or a bitter cap- 
 tivity, save only one,''*' who might say as in Job 1 : 15, — ^^And 
 J onty am escaped alone to tell the news." There were twelve 
 [killed, some shot, some stabbed with their spears, some knock- 
 j ed down with their hatchets. When we are in prosperity. Oh 
 [the little that we think of such dreadful sights, to see our dear 
 friends and relations lie bleeding out their hearts-blood upon 
 Ithe o-round. There was one who was chopt in the head with 
 a hatchet, and stript naked, and yet was crawling up and down. 
 It was a solemn sight to see so many Christians lying in their 
 [blood, some here and some there, like a company of sheep 
 I torn by wolves ; all of them stript naked by a company of 
 [hell-hounds, roaring, singing, ranting, and insulting, as if they 
 |would have torn our very hearts out; yet the Lord, by his 
 lalmighty power, preserved a number of us from death, for there 
 rWere twenty-four of us taken alive and carried captive. 
 
 I had often before this said, that if the Indians should come, 
 [I should choose rather to be killed by them than taken alive, but 
 ! when it came to the trial, my mind changed ; their glittering 
 I weapons so daunted my spirit, that I chose rather to go along 
 I with those (as I may say) ravenous bears, than that moment 
 , to end my days. And that I may the better declare what hap- 
 pened to me during that grievous captivity, I shall particularly 
 [speak of the several Removes we had up and down the wif- 
 [derness. 
 
 The First Remove. — Now away we must go with those 
 [barbarous creatures, with our bodies wounded and bleeding, 
 land our hearts no less than our bodies. About a mile we went 
 [that night, up upon a hill,t within sight of the town, where 
 [we intended to lodge. There was hard by a vacant house, de 
 [serted by the English before, for fear of the Indians ; I asked 
 [them whether I might not lodge in the house that night ; to 
 [which they answered, "What, will you love Englishmen still ?' 
 fThis was the dolefulest night that ever my eyes saw. Oh the 
 iroaring, and singing, and dancing, and yelling of those black 
 Icreatures in the night, which made the place a lively resem- 
 
 iin the house, in which number are included five soldiers not reckoned by 
 ^Mrs. Rowlandson. 
 
 ♦ Ephraim Roper, whose wife was killed in attempting to escape. 
 
 t George Hill, which has been so called for more than one hundred and 
 Ififty years. It is said to have taken its name from an Indian whom the 
 lEnglish called George, and who had a wigwam upon it. The name in- 
 icludes the whole range of the fertile and delightful ridge on the west side 
 |of the town, nearly two miles in extent. From the southern part, which 
 " almost a distinct hill, is a fine view of the town and surrounding coun- 
 
 
Ill T 
 
 24 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 blance of hell. And miserable was the waste that was there 
 made of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, calves, lambs, roasting 
 pigs, and fowls, (which they had plundered in the town,) some 
 roasting, some lying and burning, and some boiling, to feed our 
 merciless enemies ; who were joyful enough, though we were 
 disconsolate. To add to the dolefulness of the former day, 
 and the dismalness of the present night, my thoughts ran upon 
 my losses and sad, bereaved condition. All was gone, my hus- 
 band gone,*= (at least separated from me, he being in the Bay ; 
 and to add to my grief, the Indians told me they would kill 
 him as he came homeward,) my children gone, my relations 
 and friends gone,t our house and home, and all our comforts 
 within door and without, all was gone, (except my life,) and I 
 knew not but the next moment that might go too. 
 
 There remained nothing to me but one poor, wounded babo; 
 and it seemed at present worse than de?.th, that it was in such 
 a pitiful condition, bespeaking compassion, and I had no re- 
 freshing for it, nor suitable things to revive it. Little do many 
 think what is the savageness and brutishness of this barbarous 
 enemy, those even that seem to profess more than others 
 among them, when the English have fallen into their hands. 
 
 Those seven that were killed at Lancaster the summer be- 
 fore upon a Sabbath day, and the one that was afterward killed 
 upon a week-day, were slain and mangled in a barbarous man- 
 ner, by One-eyed John and Marlborough's praying Indians, 
 which Capt. Mosely brought to Boston, as the Indians told 
 me. 
 
 The Second Remove. — But now (the next morning) I must 
 turn my back upon the town, and travel with them into the 
 vast and desolate wilderness, I know not whither. It is not 
 my tongue or pen can express the sorrows of my heart, and 
 bitterness of my spirit, that I had at this departure ; but God 
 was with me in a wonderful manner, carrying me along and 
 bearing up my spirit, that it did not quite fail. One of the 
 Indians carried my poor wounded babe upon a horse : it went 
 moaning all along, " I shall die, I shall die." I went on foot after 
 it with sorrow that cannot be expressed. At length I took it off 
 the horse, and carried it in my arms, till my strength failed and 
 I fell down with it. Then they set me upon a horse with my 
 ^younded child in my lap, and there being no furniture on the 
 horse's back, as we were going down a steep hill, we both fell 
 
 ♦ Mr. Rowlandson, 'vith Capt. Kerley and Mr. Drew, were at this time 
 in Boston, soliciting the governor and council for more soldiers, for the 
 protection of the place. 
 
 t No less than seventeen of Mr. Rowlandson's family were put to death 
 or taken prisoners. 
 
4iv 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 86 
 
 that was there 
 ambs, roasting 
 le town,) some 
 ng, to feed our 
 lOugh we were 
 e former day, 
 ights ran upon 
 gone, my hus- 
 ig in the Bay ; 
 hey would kill 
 }, my relations 
 I our comforts 
 my life,) and I 
 a. 
 
 wounded babe, 
 it was in such 
 I I had no re- 
 Little do many 
 this barbarous 
 e than others 
 their hands, 
 e summer be- 
 fterward killed 
 
 rbarous man- 
 ying Indians, 
 
 Indians told 
 
 •rning) I must 
 them into the 
 ler. It is not 
 my heart, and 
 ure ; but God 
 tne along and 
 One of the 
 orse : it went 
 It on foot after 
 h I took it off 
 o-th failed and 
 orse with my 
 niture on the 
 we both fell 
 
 ere at this time 
 soldiers, for the 
 
 ere put to death 
 
 over the horse's head, at which ihey like inhuman creatures 
 laughed, and rejoiced to see it, though I thought we should 
 there have ended our days, overcome with so many difRculties. 
 But the Lord renewed my strength still, and carried me along, 
 that I might see more of his power, yea, so much that I could 
 never have thought of, had I not experienced it. 
 
 After this it quickly began to snow, and when night came 
 on they stopt. And now down I must sit in the snow, by a lit- 
 tle fire, and a few boughs behind me, with my sick child in my 
 lap, and calling much for water, being now, through the woundf, 
 fallen into a violent fever ; my own wound also growing so 
 stiff, that I could scarce sit down or rise up, yet so it must be, 
 that I must sit all this cold, winter night upon the cold snowy 
 ground, with my sick child in my arms, looking that every 
 hour would be the last of its life, and having no Christian 
 friend near me, either to comfort or help me. Oh, I may see 
 the wonderful power of God, that my spirit did not utterly 
 sink under my affliction ; still the Lord upheld me with his 
 gracious and merciful spirit, and we were both alive to see the 
 light of the next morning. 
 
 The Third Remove. — The morning being come, they pre- 
 pared to go on their way; one of the Indians got upon a horse, 
 and they sat me up behind him, with my poor sick babe in my 
 lap. A very wearisome and tedious day I had of it ; what 
 with my own wound, and my child being so exceeding sick, 
 and in a lamentable condition with her wound, it may easily 
 be judged what a poor, feeble condition we were in, there 
 being not the least crumb of refreshing that came within either 
 of our mouths from Wednesday night to Saturday niglit, except 
 only a little cold water. This day in the afternoon, about an 
 hour by sun, we came to the place where they intended, viz. 
 an Indian town called Wenimesset, [New Braintree] north- 
 ward of Quabaug, [Brookfield.] When we were come, Oh 
 the number of Pagans, now merciless enemies, that there came 
 about me, that I may say as David, Psal. 27 : 13, ^* I had faint- 
 ed unless I had believed" &c. The next day was the Sabbath. 
 I then remembered how careless I had been of God's holy 
 time ; how many Sabbaths I had lost and misspent, and how 
 evilly I had walked in God's sight ; which lay so close upon 
 my spirit, that it was easy for me to see how righteous it was 
 with God to cut off the thread of my life, and cast me out of 
 his presence for ever. Yet the Lord still showed mercy to me, 
 and helped me ; and as he wounded me with one hand, so he 
 healed me with the other. This day there came to me one 
 Robert Pepper, a man belonging to Roxbury, who was taken 
 at Capt. Beers' fight, and had been now a considerable time 
 3 ^^.- - 
 
86 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Ill' 
 
 ' 
 
 
 with the Indians, and up with them almost as far as Albany, 
 to see King Philip, as he told me, and was now very lately 
 come into these parts. Hearing, I say, that I was in this In- 
 dian town, he obtained leave to come and see me. He told me 
 he himself was wounded in the leg at Capt. Beers' fight, and 
 was not able some time to go, but as they carried him, and that 
 he took oak leaves and laid to his wound, and by the blessing 
 of God he was able to travel again. Then took I oak leaves 
 and laid to my side, and with the blessing of God it cured me 
 also ; yet before the cure was wrought, I may say as it is in 
 Psal. 38: 5, 6, "My loounds stink and are corrupt. I am 
 troubled ; I am lowed down greatly ; I go mourning all the 
 day long." I sat much alone with my poor wounded child in 
 my lap, which moaned night and day, having nothing to revive 
 the body or cheer the spirits of her; but instead of that, one 
 Indian would come and tell me one hour, " Your master will 
 knock your child on the head," and then a second, and then a 
 third, " Your master will quickly knock your child on the 
 head." 
 
 This was the comfort I had from them ; miserable comfort- 
 ers were they all. Thus nine days I sat upon my knees, with 
 my babe in my lap, till my flesh was raw again. My child 
 being even ready to depart this sorrowful world, they bid me 
 carry it out to another wigwam, I suppose because they would 
 not be troubled with such spectacles ; whither I went with a 
 very heavy heart, and down I sat with the picture of death in 
 my lap. About two hours in the night, my sweet babe like a 
 lamb departed this life, on Feb. 18, 1676, it being about six 
 years and five months old.''*^ It was nine days from the first 
 wounding in this miserable condition, without any refreshing 
 of one nature or another except a little cold water. I cannot 
 but take notice how at another time I could not bear to be in a 
 room where a dead person was, but now the case is changed ; 
 I must and could lie down with my dead babe all the night 
 after. I have thought since of the wonderful goodness of God 
 to me in preserving me so in the use of my reason and senses, 
 in that distressed time, that I did not use wicked and violent 
 means to end my own miserable life. In the morning when 
 they understood that my child was dead, they sent me home 
 to my master's wigwam. By my master in this^writing must 
 be understood Quannopin, who was a sagamore, and married 
 King Philip's wife's sister ; not that he first took me, but I was 
 sold to him by a Narraganset Indian, who took me when I first 
 came out of the garrison. I went to take up my dead child 
 
 '* This child's name was Sarah ; born Sept. 15, 1669. 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 in my arms to carry it with me, but they bid me let it alone. 
 There was no resisting, but go I must, and leave it. When I 
 had been awhile at my master's wigwam, I took the first op- 
 portunity I could get to go look after my dead child. When 
 I came 1 asked them what they had done with it. They told 
 me it was on the hill.''*' Then they went and showed me 
 where it was, where I saw the ground was newly digged, and 
 where they told me they had buried it. There I left that child 
 in the wilderness, and must commit it and myself also in this 
 wilderness condition to Him who is above all. God having 
 taken away this dear child, I went to see my daughter Mary, 
 who was at the same Indian town, at a wigwam not very far 
 off, though we had little liberty or opportunity to see one 
 another ; she was about ten years old, and taken from the door 
 at first by a praying Indian, and afterwards sold for a gun. 
 When I came in sight she would fall a weeping, at which 
 they were provoked, and would not let me come near her, but 
 bid me be gone ; which was a heart-cutting word to me. I 
 had one child dead, another in the wilderness, I knew not 
 where, the third they would not let me come near to ; " Me 
 (as he said) have ye bereaved of my children ; Joseph is not, 
 and Simeon is not, and ye vnll take Benjamin also ; all these 
 things are against me.''^ I could not sit still in this condition, 
 but kept walking from one place to another; and as I was 
 going along, my heart was even overwhelmed with the thoughts 
 of my condition, and that I should have children, and a nation 
 that I knew not ruled over them. Whereupon I earnestly 
 entreated the Lord that he would consider my low estate, and 
 show me a token for good, and if it were his blessed will, some 
 sign and hope of some relief. And indeed quickly the Lord 
 answered in some measure my poor prayer ; for as 1 was going 
 up and down mourning and lamenting my condition, my son 
 [Joseph] came to me and asked me how I did. I had not seen 
 him before since the destruction of the town ; and I knew not 
 where he was, till i was informed by himself that he was 
 among a smaller parcel of Indians, whose place was about six 
 miles off. With tears in his eyes he asked me whether his 
 sister Sarah was dead, and told me he had seen his sister Mary, 
 and prayed me that I would not be troubled in reference to 
 himself. The occasion of his coming to see me at this time 
 was this : there was, as I said, about six miles from us, a small 
 plantation of Indians, where it seems he had been during his 
 captivity ; and at this time there were some forces of the In- 
 
 * This hill, in the town of New Braintree, is now known as the burial 
 place of Mrs. Rowlandsou's child. 
 
as 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 '■■t;^. 
 
 ; ■-,.- 
 
 
 dians gathered out of our company, and some also from them, 
 amongst whom was my son's master, to go to assault and burn 
 Medfield. In this time of his master's absence his dame 
 brought him to see me. I took this to be some gracious answer 
 to my earnest and unfeigned desire. The next day the Indians 
 returned from Medfield;*' all the company, for those that 
 belonged to the other smaller cr»T)pany came through the town 
 that we now were at ; but before they came to us, Oh the out- 
 rageous roaring and whooping that there was ! they began 
 their din about a mile before they came to us. By their noise 
 and whooping they signified how many they had destroyed ; 
 which was at that time twenty-three. Those that were with 
 ui' at home were gathered together as soon as they heard the 
 V hooping, and every time that the other went over their num- 
 ber, these at home gave a shout, that the very earth rang again. 
 Aiid thus they continued till those that had been upon the 
 expedition were come up to the sagamore's wigwam ; and then 
 Oh *he hideous insulting and triumphing that there was over 
 some Englishmen's scalps that they had taken, as their man- 
 ner is, ijnd brought with them. I cannot but take notice of the 
 wonderful mercy of God to me in those afflictions, in sending 
 me a Bible. One of the Indians that came from Medfield fight, 
 and had brought some plunder, came to me, and asked me if I 
 would have a Bible ; he had got one in his basket. I was glad 
 of it, and asked him if he thought the Indians would let me 
 read. He answered yes. So I took the Bible, and in that 
 melancholy time it came into my mind to read first the twenty- 
 eighth chapter of Deuteronomy, which I did, and when I had 
 read it my dark heart wrought on this manner : that there was 
 no mercy for me, that the blessings were gone, and the curses 
 came in their room, and that I had lost my opportunity. But 
 the Lord helped me still to go on reading, till I came to chap. 
 30, the seven first verses ; where I found there was mercy 
 promised again, if we would return to him by repentance ; and 
 though we were scattered from one end of the earth to the 
 other, yet the Lord would gather us together, and turn all those 
 curses upon our enemies. I do not desire to live to forget this 
 scripture, and what comfort it was to me. 
 
 Now the Indians began to talk of removing from this place, 
 some one way and some another. There were now besides 
 myself nine English captives in this place, all of them children 
 except one woman. I got an opportunity to go and take my 
 leave of them, they being to go one way and I another. I 
 asked them whether they were earnest with God for deliver- 
 
 * Medfield was attacked Feb.-% (0. S.) 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 29 
 
 ance. They told me they did as they were able, and it wao 
 some comfort to me that the Lord stirred up children to look to 
 him. The woman, viz. goodwife .Toslin,* told me she should 
 never see me again, and that she could find in her heart to run 
 away hy any means, for we were near thirty miles from any 
 English town.t and she very big with child, having but one week 
 to reckon, and another child in her arms two years old ; and 
 bad rivers there were to go over, and we were feeble with our 
 poor and coarse entertainment. I had my Bible with me. I 
 pulled it out, and asked her whether she would read. We 
 opened the Bible, and lighted on Psalm 27, in which Psalm 
 we especially took notice of that verse, " Wait on the Lord, be 
 of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart ; wait 1 
 say on the Lord.^' 
 
 The Fourth Remove. — And now must I part with the little 
 corr.pany I had. Here I parted with my daughter Mary.t 
 I whom I never saw again till I saw her in Dorchester, returned 
 from captivity, and from four little cousins and neighbors, some 
 of which I nevsr saw afterward ; the Lord only knows the end 
 of them. Among them also was that poor woman before men- 
 tioned, who came to a sad end, as some of the company told 
 me in my travel. She having much grief upon her spirits 
 about her miserable condition, being so near her time, she 
 would be often asking the Indians to let her go home. They 
 r.ot being willing to that, and yet vexed with her importunity, 
 gathered a great company together about her, and stript her 
 naked and set her in the midst of them ; and when they had 
 sung and danced about her in their hellish manner as long as 
 they pleased, they knocked her on the head, and the child in 
 i her arms with her. When they had done that, they made a 
 fire and put them both into it, and told the other children that 
 were with them, that if they attempted to go home they would 
 serve them in like manner. The children said she did not 
 shed one tear, but prayed all the while. But to turn to my 
 own journey. We travelled about a half a day or a little more, 
 [and came to a desolate place in the wilderness, where there 
 jwere no wigwams or inhabitants before. We came about the 
 [middle of the afternoon to this place, cold, wet, and snowy, and 
 ff hungry, and weary, and no refreshing for man, but the cold 
 ground to sit on, and our poor Indian cheer. 
 
 * Abraham Joslin's wife. 
 
 t This was true at that time, as Brookfield, (Quaboag,) within a few 
 [miles of Wenimesset, was destroyed by the Indians in August, 1675. 
 [The nearest towns were those on Connecticut river. 
 
 tBom August 12, 1665. 
 3* 
 
80 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Heart-aching thoughts here I had nhout my poor children, 
 who were scattered up and down among the wild beasts of the 
 forest. My head was light and dizzy, either through hunger 
 or bad lodging, or trouble, or all together, my knees feeble, my 
 body raw by silting double night and day, that I cannot ex- 
 
 Eress to man the affliction that lay upon my spirit, but the 
 lord helped me at that time to express it to himself. I open- 
 ed my Bible to read, and the Lord brought that precious scrip- 
 ture to me, Jer. 31 : 16, — '* Thtis saith the Lord, refrain thy 
 eoice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears, for thy ivork 
 shall be retoarded, and they shall rome again from the land of 
 the enemy." This was a sweet cordial to me when I was ready 
 to faint. Many and many a time have I sat down and wept 
 sweetly over this scripture. At this place we continued about 
 four days. 
 
 The Fifth Remove. — The occasion, as I thought, of their 
 removing at this time, was the English army's being n nr and 
 following them ; for they went as if they had gone foe their 
 iives for some considerable way ; and then they made a stop, 
 and chose out some of their stoutest men, and sent then?, back 
 to hold the English army in play whilst the rest escaped ; and 
 then, Mice Jehu, they marched on furiously, with their old and 
 young : some carried their old, decrepit mothers, some carried 
 one, and some another. Four of them carried a great Indian 
 upon a bier ; but going through a thick v.'ood with him, they 
 were hindered, and could make no haste ; a\ hereupon they took 
 him upon their backs, and carried him one at a time, till we 
 came to Bacquag* river. Upon Friday, a little after noon, we 
 came to this river. When all the company was come up and 
 were gathered together, I thought to count the number of them, 
 but they were so many, and being somewhat in motion, it was 
 beyond my skill. In this travel, because of my wound, I was 
 ?:'r||tj^ewhat favored in my load. I carried only my knitting- 
 ^%Oirk, and two quarts of parched meal. Being very faint, I 
 ''asked my mistress to give me one spoonful of the meal, but 
 she would not give me a taste. They quickly fell to cutting 
 dry trees, to make rafts to carry them over the river, and soon 
 my turn came to go over. By the advantage of some brush 
 which they had laid upon the raft to sit on, I did not wet my 
 foot, while many of themselves at the other end were mid-leg 
 deep, which cannot but be acknowledged as a favor of God to 
 my weakened body, it being a very cold time. I was not be- 
 fore acquainted with such kind of doings or dangers. '* When 
 
 
 • Or Payquage, now Miller's river. It empties into the Connecticut, 
 between Northfield and Montague. 
 
fi 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. Wk 
 
 thou peuseth through the waters I will be with thee, and through 
 the rivers they shall not overflow thee.'* — Isa. 43 : 2. A certain 
 number of us got over the river that night, but it was the night 
 after the Sabbath before all the company was got over. On 
 the Saturday they boiled an old horse's leg which they had 
 got, and so we drank of the broth, as soon as they thought it 
 was ready, and when it was almost all gone they filled it up 
 again. 
 
 The first week of my being among them, I hardly eat any 
 thing ; the second week I found my stomach grow very faint 
 for want of something, and yet it was very hard to get down 
 their filthy trash ; but the third week, though I could think how 
 formerly my stomach would turn against this or that, and I 
 cuuld starve and die before I could eat such things, yet they 
 were pleasant and savory to my taste. I was at this time knit- 
 ting a pair of white cotton stockings for my mistress, and I had 
 not yet wrought upon the Sabbath day. When the Sabbath 
 came, they bid me go to work. I told them it was Sabbath 
 day, and d.esired them to let me rest, and told them I would do 
 as much more work to-morrow ; to which they answered me 
 they would break my face. And here I cannot but take notice 
 of the strange providence of God in preserving the heathen. 
 They were many hundreds, old and young., some sick, and 
 some lame ; many had papooses at their backs ; the greatest 
 number at this time with us were squaws ; and yet they tra- 
 velled with all they had, bag and baggage, and they got over 
 this river aforesaid ; and on Monday they sat their wigwams 
 on fire, and away they went. On that very day came the 
 English army after them to this river, and saw the smoke of 
 their wigwams, and yet this river put a stop to them. God did 
 not give them courage or activity to go over after us. We 
 were not ready for so great a mercy as victory and deliverance ; 
 if we had been, God would have found out a way for the 
 English to have passed this river, as well as for the Indians, 
 with their squaws and children, and all their luggage. " O 
 that my people had hearkened unto me, and Israel had walked 
 in my ivays ; I should soon have subdved their enemies, and 
 turned my hand against their adversaries.'* — Psal. 81 : 13, 14. 
 
 The Sixth Remove. — On Monday, as I said, they set their 
 wigwams on fire, and went away. It was a cold morning, and 
 before us there was a great brook with ice on it. Some waded 
 through it up to the knees and higher, but others went till they 
 came to a beaver dam, and I amongst them, where, through 
 the good providence of God, I did not wet my foot. I went 
 along that day mourning and lamenting, leaving farther my 
 own country, and travelling farther into the yast and howling 
 
32 
 
 MRS. ROWLANPSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 wilderness, and I understood something of Lot's wife's temp- 
 tation when she looked back. We came that day to a great 
 swamp, by the side of which we took up our lodging that 
 night. When we came to the brow of the hill that looked to- 
 ward the swamp, I thought we had been come to a great Indian 
 town, though there were none but our own company; the In- 
 dians were as thick as the trees ; it seemed ns if there had 
 been a thousand hatchets going at once. If one looked before 
 one there was nothing but Indians, and behind one nothing but 
 Indians ; and so on either hand ; and I myself in the midst, 
 and no Christian soul near me, and yet now hath the Lord 
 preserved me in safety ! Oh the experience that I have had 
 of the goodness of God to me and mine! 
 
 The Seventh Remove. — After a restless and hungry night 
 there, we had a wearisome time of it the next day. The 
 swamp by which we lay was as it were a deep dungeon, and 
 an exceedinf high and steep hill before it. Before I got to the 
 top of the h!ll, I thought my heart and legs and all would have 
 broken anr'. failed me. What through faintness and soreness of 
 body, it wos a grievoiis day of travel to me. As we went along, I 
 saw a place where English cattle had been. That was a com- 
 fort to me, such as it was. Quickly after that we came to 
 an English path, which so took me that I thought I could there 
 have freely lain down and died. That day, a little after noon, 
 we came to Squaheag,'**' where the Indians quickly spread 
 themselves over the deserted English fields, gleaning what they 
 could find. Some picked up ears of wheat that were crickled 
 down, some found ears of Indian corn, some found ground- 
 nuts, and others sheaves of wheat that were frozen together in 
 the shock, and went to threshing of them out. Myself got two 
 ears of Indian corn, and whilst I did but turn my back, one of 
 them was stole from me, which much troublea me. There 
 came an Indian to them at that time, with a basket of horse- 
 liver. I asked him to give me a piece. " What," says he, 
 " can you eat horse-liver ? " I told him I would try, if he would 
 give me a piece, which he did ; and I laid it on the coals to 
 roast; but before it was half ready, they got half of it away 
 from me ; so that I was forced to take the rest and eat it as it 
 was, with the blood about my mouth, and yet a savory bit it 
 was to me ; for to the hungry soul every bitter thing was sweet. 
 A solemn sight methought it was, to see whole fields of wheat 
 and Indian corn forsaken and spoiled, and the remainder of 
 them to be food for our merciless enemies. That night we 
 had a mess of wheat for our supper. 
 
 * Or Squakeag, now Northfield. 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 33 
 
 The Eighth Rkmove. — ^On the morrow morning we must 
 go over Connecticut river, to meet with King Philip. Two 
 canoes full they had carried over; the next turn myself was 
 to go ; but as my foot was upon the canoe to step in, there was 
 a sudden outcry among them, and I must step back ; and 
 instead of going ov» r the river, I must go four or five miles up 
 the river further northward. Some of the Indians ran one way, 
 and some another. The cause of this rout was, as I thought, 
 their espying some English scouts, who were thereabouts. In 
 this travel up the river, about noon the company made a stop, 
 and sat down, some to eat and others to rest them. As I sat 
 amongst them, musing on things past, my son Joseph unex- 
 pectedly came to me. We asked of each other's welfare, be- 
 moaning our doleful condition, and the change that had come 
 upon us. We had husband and father, and children and sis- 
 ters, and friends and relations, and house and home, and many 
 comforts of this life ; but now we might say as Job, " Naked 
 came I out of my mother^s womb, and naked shall I return. 
 The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the 
 name of the Lord.*' I asked him whether he would read. He 
 told me he earnestly desired it. I gave him my Bible, and he 
 lighted upon that comfortable scripture. Psalm 118: 17, 18, — 
 ** I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord. 
 The Lord hath chastened me sore, yet he hath not given me over to 
 death.*' " Look here, mother," says he, *• did you read this ?" 
 And here I may take occasion to mention one principal ground 
 of my setting forth these lines, even as the Psalmist says, to 
 declare the v/orks of the Lord, and his wonderful power in 
 carrying us along, preserving us in the wilderness while under 
 the enemy's hand, and returning of us in safety again ; and 
 his goodness in bringing to my hand so many comfortable and 
 suitable scriptures in my distress. 
 
 But to return. We travelled on till night, and in the morn- 
 ing we must go over the river to Philip's crew. When I was 
 in the canoe, I could not but be amazed at the numerous crew 
 of Pagans that were on the bank on the other side. When I 
 Fcame ashore, they gathered all about me, I sitting alone in the 
 midst. I observed they asked one another questions, and 
 I laughed, and rejoiced over their gains and victories. Then 
 my heart began to fail, and I fell a weeping; which was the 
 first time, to my remembrance, that I wept before them. Al- 
 though I had met with so much affliction, and my heart was 
 many times ready to break, yet could I not shed one tear in 
 their sight, but rather had been all this while in a maze, and 
 like one astonished ; but now I may say as Psal. 137 : 1, — 
 " By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept^ 
 
94 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 when we remembered Zion.'^ There one of them asked me 
 why I wept. I could hardly tell what to say ; yet I answered, 
 they would kill me. " No," said he, " none will hurt you." 
 Then came one of them, and gave me two spoonfuls of meal, 
 to comfort me, and another gave me half a pint of peas, which 
 was worth more than many bushels at another time. Then I 
 went to see King Philip. He bade me come in and sit down, 
 and asked me whether I would smoke it — a usual compliment 
 now-a-days among the saints and sinners ; but this noway 
 suited me ; for though I had formerly used tobacco, yet I had 
 left it ever since I was first taken. It seems to be a bait the 
 devil lays to make men lose their precious time. I remember 
 with shame how formerly, when I had taken two or three 
 pipes, I was presently ready for another, such a bewitching 
 thing it is ; but I thank God, he has now given me power over 
 it. Surely there are many who may be better employed than 
 to sit sucking a stinking tobacco-pipe. 
 
 Now the Indians gathered their forces to go against North- 
 ampton. Over night one went about yelling and hooting to 
 give notice of the design. Whereupon they went to boiling 
 of ground-nuts and parching corn, as many as had it, for their 
 provision ; and in the morning away they went. During my 
 abode in this place, Philip spake to me to make a shirt for his 
 boy, which I did ; for which he gave me a shilling. I offered 
 the money to my mistress, but she bid me keep it, and with it 
 I bought a piece of horse-flesh. Afterward he asked me to 
 make a cap for his boy, for which he invited me to dinner. I 
 went, and he gave me a pancake about as big as two fin- 
 gers ; it was made of parched wheat, beaten and fried in 
 bear's grease, but I thought I never tasted pleasanter meat in 
 my life. There was a squaw who spake to me to make a shirt 
 for her Sannup ; for which she gave me a piece of beef. An- 
 othi^r asked me to knit a pair of stockings, for which she gave 
 me a quart of peas. I boiled my peas and beef together, and 
 invited my master and mistress to dinner ; but the proud gos- 
 sip, because I served them both in one dish, would eat nothing, 
 except one bit that he gave her upon the point of his knife. 
 Hearing that my son was come to this place, I went to see him, 
 and found him lying flat on the ground. I asked him how he 
 could sleep so. He answered me that he was not asleep, but 
 at prayer, and that he lay so that they might not observe what 
 he was doing. I pray God he may remember these things 
 now he is returned in safety. At this place, the sun now get- 
 ting higher, what with the beams and heat of the sun and 
 smoke of the wigwams, I thought I should have been blinded. 
 I could scarce discern one wigwam from another. There was 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 35 
 
 one Mary Thurston, of Medfield, who, seeing how it was with 
 me, lent me a hat to wear ; but as soon as I was gone, the 
 squaw that owned that Mary Thurston came running after me, 
 and got it away again. Here was a squaw who gave me a 
 spoonful of meal ; I put it in my pocket to keep it safe, yet 
 notwithstanding somebody stole it, but put five Indian corns in 
 the room of it ; which corns were the greatest provision 1 had 
 in my travel for one day. 
 
 The Indians returning from Northampton * brought with 
 them some horses, and sheep, and other things which they had 
 taken. I desired them that they would carry me to Albany 
 upon one of those horses, and sell me for powder ; for so they 
 had sometimes discoursed. I was utterly helpless of getting 
 home on foot, the way that I came. I could hardly bear to 
 think of the many weary steps I had taken to this place. 
 
 The Ninth Remove. — But instead of either going to Al- 
 bany or homeward, we must go five miles up the river, and then 
 go over it. Here we abode a while. Here lived a sorry Indian, 
 who spake to me to make him a shirt ; when I had done it he 
 would pay me nothing for it. But he living by the river-side, 
 where I often went to fetch water, I would often be putting him 
 in mind, and calling for my pay ; at last he told me, if I would 
 make another shirt for a papoose not yet born, he would give 
 me a knife, which he did when I had done it. I carried the 
 knife in, and my master asked me to give it him, and I was not 
 a little glad that I had anything that they would accept of and 
 be pleased with. When we were at this place, my master's 
 maid came home : she had been gone three weeks into the 
 Narragansett country to fetch corn, where they had stored up 
 some in the ground. She brought home about a peck and a 
 half of corn. This was about the time that their great captain, 
 Naonanto,f was killed in the Narragansett country. 
 
 My son being now about a mile from me, I asked liberty to 
 go and see him. They bid me go, and away I went ; but quick- 
 ly lost myself, travelling over hills and through swamps, and 
 could not find the way to him. And I cannot but admire at the 
 wonderful power and goodness of God to me, in that though I 
 was gone from home and met with all sorts of Indians, and those 
 I had no knowledge of, and there being no Christian soul near 
 me, yet not one of them offered the least imaginable miscarriage 
 to me. I turned homeward again, and met with my master, and 
 he showed me the way to my son. When I came to him, I found 
 him not well ; and withal he had a boil on his side which much 
 
 * Northampton was attacked March 14, 1676. 
 
 ■tNanuntennoo". He was taken April 6th, 1676. See Book of the la 
 dia&s, Book iii. 49; 50.— Ed. 
 
36 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 troubled him. We bemoaned one another a while, as the Lord 
 helped us, and then I returned again. When I was returned, 
 I found myself as unsatisfied as I was before. I went up and 
 down mourning and lamenting, and my spirit was ready to sink 
 with the thoughts of my poor children. My son was ill, and I 
 could not but think of his mournful looks, having no Christian 
 friend near him, to do any office of love to him, either for soul or 
 body. And my poor girl, I knew not where she was, nor 
 whether she was sick or well, alive or dead. I repaired under 
 these thoughts to my Bible, (my great comforter in th^t time,) 
 and that scripture came to my hand, *' Cast thy hurdtn upon 
 the Lord, and he shall sustain thee." — Psal. 55 : 22. 
 
 But I was fain to go look after something to satisfy my 
 hunger ; and going among the wigwams, I went into one, and 
 there found a squaw who showed herself very kind to me,, and 
 gave me a piece of bear. I put it into my pocket and came 
 home ; but could not find an opportunity to broil it, for fear 
 they should get it from me. And there it lay all the day and 
 night in my stinking pocket. In the morning, I went again to 
 the same squaw, who had a kettle of ground-nuts boiling. I 
 asked her to let me boil my piece of bear in the kettle, which 
 she did, and gave me some ground-nuts to eat with it ; and I 
 cannot but think how pleasant it was to me. I have sometimes 
 seen bear baked handsomely amongst the English, and some 
 liked it, but the thoughts that it was bear made me tremble. 
 But now, that was savory to me that one would think was 
 enough to turn the stomach of a brute creature. 
 
 One bitter cold day, I could find no room to sit down before 
 the fire. I went out, and could not tell what to do, but I went 
 into another wigwam, where they Avere also sitting round the 
 fire ; but the squaw laid a skin for me, and bid me sit down, 
 and gave me some ground-nuts, and bid me come again, and 
 told me they would buy me if they were able. And yet these 
 were strangers to me that I never knew before. 
 
 The Tenth Remove. — That day a small part of the com- 
 pany removed about three quarters of a mile, intending farther 
 the next day. When they came to the place they intended to 
 lodge, and had pitched their wigwams, being hungry, I went 
 again back to the place we were before at, to get something to 
 eat ; being encouraged by the squaw's kindness, who bid me 
 come again. When I was there, there came an Indian to look 
 after me ; who, when he had found me, kicked me all a<ong. 
 I weiit home and found venison roasting that night, but chey 
 would not give me one bit of it. Sometimes I met with favor, 
 and sometimes with riothing but frowns. 
 
 The Eleventh Remove. — The next day in the morning, 
 
 ■:i ■ 
 
 th( 
 
 Itl 
 
 a 
 
 hill 
 
 anj 
 
 biiJ 
 
 \^\ 
 
 taW 
 
 fa] 
 
 inj 
 m^ 
 
M 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 37 
 
 satisfy my 
 
 one, and 
 to me,, and 
 : and came 
 it, for fear 
 le day and 
 nt again to 
 boiling. I 
 ttle, which 
 
 1 it ; and I 
 [Sometimes 
 
 and some 
 tremble, 
 think was 
 
 wn before 
 )ut I went 
 round the 
 
 sit down, 
 igain, and 
 
 yet these 
 
 the com- 
 
 g farther 
 
 itended to 
 
 I went 
 
 ething to 
 
 o bid me 
 
 n tc look 
 
 11 a'ong. 
 
 but they 
 
 ith favor, 
 
 they took their travel, intending a day's journey up the river; 
 I took my load at my back, and quickly we came to wade over 
 a river, and passed over tiresome and wearisome hills. One 
 hill was so steep, that I was fain to creep up upon my knees, 
 and to hold by the twigs and bushes to keep myself from falling 
 backward. My head also was so light that I usually reeled as 
 I went. But I hope all those wearisome steps that I have 
 taken are but a forwarding of me to the heavenly rest. *' I 
 knoio, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in 
 faithf'^ness hath affiicted we." — Psalm 119 : 75. 
 
 The" Twelfth Remove. — It was upon a Sabbath-day morn- 
 ino- that they prepared for their travr . This morning I asked 
 my master whether he would sell » to my husband ; he an- 
 swered, nux ; which did much rejoice iny spirits. My mistress, 
 before we went, was gone to the burial of a papoos, and return- 
 ing, she found me sitting and reading in my Bible. She 
 snatched it hastily out of my hand and threw it out of doors. 
 I ran out and caught it up, and put it in my pocket, and never 
 let her see it afterwards. Then they packed up their things 
 to be gone, and gave me my load ; I complained it was too 
 heavy, whereupon she gave me a slap on the face and bid me 
 be gone. I lifted up my heart to God, hoping that redemption 
 was not far off; and the rather because their insolence grew 
 worse and worse. 
 
 But thoughts of my going homeward, for so we bent our 
 course, much cheered my spirit, and made my burden seem 
 light, and almost nothing at all. But, to my amazement and 
 great perplexity, the scale was soon turned ; for when we had 
 got a little way, on a sudden my mistress gave out she would 
 go no further, but turr^ back again, and said I must gc\ back 
 agai'i with her ; and she called her sannup, and would have had 
 him go back also, but he would not, but said he would go on, 
 and come to us again in three days. My spirit was upon this, 
 I confess, very impatient, and almost outrageous. I thought I 
 could as well have died as went back. I cannot declare the 
 tro ible that I was in about it ; back again I must go. As soon 
 as I had an opportunity, I took my Bible to read, and that qui- 
 eting scripture came to my hand, Psalm 46 : 10, — " Be still, 
 and know that I am God ;'^ which stilled my spirit for the 
 present; but a sore time of trial I concluded I had to go through; 
 my master being gone, who seemed to me the best friend I had 
 of an Indian, both in cold and hunger, and quickly so it proved. 
 Down I sat, with my heart as full as it could hold, and yet so 
 hungry that I could not sit neither. But going out to see what 
 I could find, and walking among the trees, I found six acorns 
 and two chesnuts, which were some refreshment to me. To- 
 
 ! I 
 
38 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 wards night I gathered me some sticks for my own comfort, 
 that I might not lie cold ; but when we came to lie down, they 
 bid me go out and lie somewhere else, for they had company, 
 they said come in more than their own. I told them I could 
 not tell where to go ; they bid me go look ; 1 told them if I 
 went to another wigwam they would be angry and send me 
 home again. Then one of the company drew his sword and 
 told me he would run me through if I did not go presently. 
 Then was I fain to stoop to this rude fellow, and go out in the 
 night I knew not whither. Mine eyes hath seen that fellow 
 afterwards waiking up and down in Boston, under the appear- 
 ance of a friendly Indian, and several others of the like cut. I 
 went to one wigwam, and they told me they had no room. 
 Then I went to another, and they said the same. At last, an 
 old Indian bid me come to him, and his squaw gave me some 
 ground-nuts; she gave me also something to lay under my 
 head, and a good fire we had ; through the good providence 
 of God, I had a comfoi table lodging that night. In the morn- 
 ing, another Indian bid me come at night and he would give 
 me six ground-nuts, which I did. We were at this place and 
 time about two miles from Connecticut river. We went in the 
 morning, to gather ground-nuts, to the river, and went back 
 again at night. I went with a great load at my back, for they 
 when thf;y went, though but a little way, would carry all their 
 trumpery with them. I told them the skin was off my back, 
 but I had no other comforting answer from them than this, that 
 it would be no matter if my head was off too. 
 
 The Thirteenth Remove. — Instead of going towards the 
 bay, which was what I desired, I must go with them five or 
 six miles down the river, into a mighty thicket of brush ; where 
 we abode almost a fortnight. Here one asked me to make a 
 shirt for her papoos, for which she gave me a mess of broth, 
 which was thickened with meal made of the bark of a tree ; 
 and to make it better she had put into it about a handful of 
 peas, and a few roasted ground-nuts. I had not seen my zon 
 & pretty while, and here was an Indian of whom I made enqui- 
 ry after him, and asked him when he saw him. He answered 
 me, that such a time his master roasted him, and that himself 
 did eat a piece of him as big as his two fingers, and that he 
 was very good meat. But the Lord upheld my spirit under 
 this discouragement ; and I considered their horrible addicted- 
 ness to lying, and that there is not one of them that makes the 
 least conscience of speaking the truth. 
 
 In this place, one cold night, as I lay by the fire, I removed 
 a stick v/hich kept the heat from me ; a squaw moved it down 
 again, at which I looked up, and she threw an handful of ashes 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 39 
 
 in my eyes; I thought I should have been quite blinded and 
 never have seen more ; but, lying down, the water ran out of 
 my eyes, and carried the dirt with it, that by the morning I 
 recovered my sight again. Yet upon this, and the like occa- 
 sions, I hope it is not too much to say with Job, " Have pity 
 upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of 
 the LORD has touched me^ And here, I cannot but remem- 
 ber how many times, sitting in their wigwams, and musing on 
 things past, I should suddenly leap up and run out, as if I had 
 been at home, forgetting where I was, and what my condition 
 was ; but when I was without, and saw nothing but v/ilderness 
 and woods, and a company of barbarous heathen, my mind 
 quickly returned to me, which made me think of that spoken 
 concerning Samson, who said, " Iivill go out and shake myself 
 as at other times, but he wist not that the Lord teas departed 
 from him." 
 
 About this time I began to think that all my hopes ot resto- 
 ration would come to nothing. I thought of the English army, 
 and hoped for their coming, and being retaken by them, but 
 that failed. I hoped to be carried to Albany, as the Indians 
 had discoursed, but that failed also. I thought of being sold 
 to my husband, as my master spake ; but instead of that, my 
 master himself was gone, and I left behind, so that my spirit 
 was now quite ready to sink. I asked them to let me go out 
 and pick up some sticks, that I might get alone, and pour out 
 my heart unto the Lord. Then also I took my Bible to read, 
 but I found no comfort here neither ; yet, I can say in all my 
 sorrows and afflictions, God did not leave me to have any im- 
 patient work toward himself, as if his ways were unrighteous; 
 but I knew that he laid upon me less than I deserved. After- 
 ward, before this doleful time ended with me, I was turning 
 the leaves of my Bible, and the Lord brought to me some 
 scripture which did a little revive me ; as that, Isa. 55 : 8, — 
 ^^For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are my ways 
 your ways, saith the Lord." And also that. Psalm 37 : 5, — 
 "Commit thy loays unto the Lord, trust also in him, and he 
 shall bring it to pass." 
 
 About this time, they came yelping from Hadley,* having 
 there killed three 1- nglishmen, and brought one captive with 
 them, viz. Thomas Reed. They all gathered about the poor 
 man, asking him many questions. I desired also to go and 
 see him ; ani. when I came, he was crying bitterly, supposing 
 
 *In the beginning of April, a numb'.r of the inhabitants of Hadley, 
 having ventured out some distance from the guard, for the purpose of ill 
 lage, were attacked by the Indians, and three of them killed. 
 
 'I 
 
il^i 
 
 40 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 they would quickly kill him. Whereupon I asked one of them 
 whether they intended to kill him ; he answered me they 
 would not. He being a little cheered with that, I asked him 
 about the welfare of my husband ; he told me he saw him such 
 a time in the Bay, and he was well, but very melancholy. By 
 which I certainly understood, though I suspected it before, that 
 whatsoever the Indians told me respecting him was vanity and 
 lies. Some of them told me he was dead, and they had killed 
 him ; some said he was married again, and that the governor 
 wished him to marry, and told him that he should have his 
 choice ; and that all persuaded him that I was dead. So like 
 were these barbarous creatures to him who was a liar from the 
 beginning. 
 
 As I was sitting once in the wigwam here, Philip's maid 
 came with the child in her arms, and asked me to give her a 
 piece of my apron to make a flap for it. I told her I would 
 not ; then my mistress bid me give it, but I still said no ; the 
 maid told me if I would not give her a piece, she would tear 
 a piece off it. I told her I would tear her coat then ; with 
 that my mistress rises up, and takes up a stick big enough to 
 have killed me, and struck at me with it, but I stept out, and 
 she struck the stick into the mat of the wigwam. But while 
 she was pulling it out, I ran to the maid, and gave her all my 
 apron ; and so that storm went over. 
 
 Hearing that my son was come to this place, I went to see 
 him, and told him his father was well, but very melancholy. 
 He told me he was as much grieved for his father as for him- 
 self. I wondered at his speech, for I thought I had enough 
 upon my spirit, in reference to myself, to make me mindless of 
 my husband and every one else, they being safe among their 
 friends. He told me also, that a while before, his master, to- 
 gether with other Indians, were going to the French for powder; 
 but by the way the Mohawks met with them, and killed four of 
 their company, which made the rest turn back again ; for which 
 I desire that myself and he may ever bless the Lord ; for it 
 might have been worse with him had he been sold to the 
 French, than it proved to be in his remaining with the Indians. 
 
 I went to see an English youth in this place, one John Gil- 
 bert, of Springfield. I found him laying without doors upon 
 the ground. I asked him how he did ; he told me he Avas very 
 sick of a flux with eating so much blood. They had tu'"^ed 
 h^iii out of the wigwam, and with him an Indian papoos, 
 almost dead, (whose parents had been killed,) in a bitter cold 
 day, without fire or clothes ; the young man himself had 
 nothing on but his shirt and waistcoat. This sight was enough 
 to melt a heart of flint. There they lay quivering in the cold, 
 
 k 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 41 
 
 the youth round like a dog, the papoc^ stretched out, with hia 
 eyes, nose, and mouth full of dirt, and yet alive, and groaning. 
 I advised John to go and get to some fire ; he told me he could 
 not stand, but I persuaded him still, lest he should lie there 
 and die. And with much ado I got him to a fire, and went 
 myself home. As soon as I was got home, his master's daugh- 
 ter came after me, to know what I had done with the English- 
 man ; I told her I had got him to a fire in such a place. Now 
 had J need to pray Paul's prayer, 2 Thess. 3 : 2, — " that we 
 may be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men." For 
 her satisfaction I went along with her, and brought her to him ; 
 but before I got home again, it was noised about that I was 
 running away, and getting the English youth along with me ; 
 that as soon as I came in, they began to rant and domineer, 
 asking me where I had been, and what I had been doing, and 
 saying they would knock me on the head. I told them I had 
 been seeing the English youth, and that I would not run away. 
 They told me I lied, and getting up a hatchet, they cams to 
 me and said they would knock me down if I stirred out again ; 
 and so confined me to the wigwam. Now may I say with 
 David, 2 Sam. 24: 14, — " I atn in a grert strait." If I keep 
 in, I must die with hunger ; and if I go out, I must be knocked 
 on the head. This distressed c ndition held that day, and half 
 the next ; and then the Lord remembered me, whose mercies 
 are great. Then came an Indian to me with a pair of stock- 
 ings which were too big for him, and he would have me 
 ravel them out, and knit them fit for him. I showed myself 
 willing, and bid him ask my mistress if I might go along with 
 him a little way. She said yes, I might ; but I was not a little 
 refreshed with that news, that I had my liberty again. Then 
 I went along with him, and he gave me some roasted ground- 
 nuts, which did again revive my feeble stomach. 
 
 Being got out of her sight, I had time and liberty again to 
 look into my Bible, which was my guide by day, and my pil- 
 low by night. Now that comfortable scripture presented itself 
 to me, Isa. 45 : 7, — " For a small moment have I forsaken thee, 
 hut loith great mercies will I gather thee." Thus the Lord 
 carried me along from one time to another, and made good to 
 me this precious promise and many others. Then my son 
 came to see me, and I asked his master to let him stay a while 
 with me, that I might comb his head and look over him, for he 
 was almost overcome with lice. He told me when I had done 
 that he was very hungry, but I had nothing to relieve him, but 
 bid him go into the wigwams as he went along, and see if he 
 could get any thing among them ; which he did, and, it seems, 
 
 tarried a little too long, for his master was angry with him, and 
 4* 
 
i 
 
 49 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 it' 
 
 beat him, and then sold him. Then he came running to tell 
 me he had a new master, and that he had given him some 
 ground-nuts already. Then I went along with him to his new 
 master, who told hie he loved him, and he should not want. 
 So his master carried him away; and I never saw him after- 
 ward, till I saw him at Piscataqua, in Portsmouth. 
 
 That night they bid me go out of the wigwam again ; my 
 mistress's papoos was sick, and it died that night ; and there 
 was one benefit in it, that there was more room. I went to a 
 wigwam and they bid me come in, and gave me a skin \o lie 
 upon, and a mess of venison and ground-nuts, which was a 
 choice dish among them. On the morrow they buried the 
 papoos ; and afterward, both morning and evening, there came 
 a company to mourn and howl with her ; though I confess I 
 could not much condole with them. Many sorrowful days I 
 had in this place ; often getting alone, " like a crane or a 
 swalloio, so did I chatter ; I did mourn as a dove; mine eyes fail 
 with looking upioard. O Lord, I am oppressed, undertake for 
 me." — Isa. 38 : 14. I could tell the Lord as Hezekiah, ver. 3, 
 ** Bcmemher noiv, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked be- 
 fore thee in truth." Now had I time to examine all my ways. 
 My conscience did not accuse me of unrighteousness towards 
 one or another ; yet I saw how in my walk with God I had been 
 a careless creature. As David said, " against thee only have 1 
 sinned." And I might say with the poor publican, " God be 
 merciful unto me a sinner. " Upon the Sabbath days I could 
 look upon the sun, and think how people were going to the 
 house of God to have their souls refreshed, and then home and 
 their bodies also ; but I was destitute of both, and might say 
 as the poor prodigal, " He would fain have filled his belly loith 
 the huiks that the sioine did eat, and no man gave unto him." 
 Luke 15: 16. For I must say with him, ^^ Father, I have sin- 
 ned against heaven and in thy sight." — Ver. 21. I remember 
 how on the night before and after the Sabbath, when m^y fam- 
 ily was about me, arid relations and neighbors with us, we 
 could pray, and sing, and refresh our bodies with the good 
 creatures of God, and then have a comfortable bed to lie down 
 on ; but instead of all this, I had only a little swill for the body, 
 and then, like a swine, must lie down on the ground. I cannot 
 express to man the sorrow that lay upon my spirit, the Lord 
 knows it. Yet that comfortable scripture w^ould often come to 
 my mind, — " For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with 
 great mercies vnll I gather thee." 
 
 The Fourteenth Remove. — Now must we pack up and be 
 gone from this thicket, bending our course towards the Bay 
 towns ; I having nothing to eat by the way this day but a few 
 
 
 i> 
 
 
good 
 down 
 e body, 
 cannot 
 le Lord 
 ;ome to 
 ut with 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 43 
 
 crums of cake that an Indian gave my girl the same day we 
 were taken. She gave it me, 'xnd I put it in my pocket. 
 There it lay, till it was so mcu^-i^, for want of good baking, 
 that one could not tell what it was made of; it fell all into 
 crums, and grew so dry and hard that it was like little flints ; 
 and this refreshed me many times when I was ready to faint. 
 It was in my thoughts when I put it to my mouth, that if ever 
 I returned 1 would tell the world what a blessing the Lord 
 gave to such mean food. As we went along, they killed a 
 deer, with a young one in her. They gave me d piece of the 
 fawn, and it was so young and tender that one might eat the 
 bones as well as the flesh, and yet I thought it very good. 
 When night came on we sat down. It rained, but they quickly 
 got up a bark wigwam, where I lay dry that night. I looked 
 out in the morning, and many of them had lain in the rain all 
 night, I knew by their reeking. Thus the Lord dealt merci- 
 fully with mc many times, and I fared better than many of 
 them. Ir. the morning they took the blood of the deer, and 
 put it into the paunch, and so boiled it. I could eat nothing 
 of that, though they eat it sweetly. And yet they were so 
 nice in other things, that when I had fetched water, and had 
 put the dish I dipped the water with into the kettle of water 
 which I brought, they would say they would knock me down, 
 for they said it was a sluttish trick. 
 
 The Fifteenth Remove. — We went on our travel. I hav- 
 ing got a handful of ground-nuts for my support that day, 
 they gave me my load, and I went on cheerfully, with tne 
 thoughts of going homeward, having my burthen more upon 
 my back than my spirit. We came to Baquaug river again 
 that day, near which we abode a few days. Sometimes one 
 of them would give me a pipe, another a little tobacco, another 
 a little salt, which I would change for victuals. I cannot but 
 think what a wolfish appetite persons have in a starving con- 
 dition ; for many times, wh^n they gave me that which was 
 hot, I was so greedy, that I should burn my mouth, that it 
 would trouble me many hours after, and yet I should quickly 
 do the like again. And after I was thoroughly hungry, I was 
 never again satisfied ; for though it sometimes fell out that I 
 had got enough, and did eat till I could eat no more, yet I was 
 as unsatisfied as I was when I began. And now could I see 
 that scripture verified, there being many scriptures that we do 
 not take notice of or understand till we are afflicted, Mic. 6 : 14, 
 — " Thou shalt eat and not be satisfied.'^ Now might I see more 
 than ever before the miseries that sin hath brought upon us. 
 Many times I should be ready to run out against the heathen, 
 but that scripture would quiet me again, Amos 3 : 6, — " ShaU 
 
 H 
 
 i; 
 
 .i 
 
 
 ■A 
 
 ? 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 » 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
44 
 
 MKS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it ? " The 
 Lord help me to make a right improvement of his word, that I 
 might learn that great lesson, Mie. 6 : 8, 9, — " He hath showed 
 thee, O man, what is good ; and wJiat doth the Lord require of 
 thee, but to do justly and lore mercy, and ivalk humbly loith thy 
 Godf Hear ye the rod, and. who hath appointed it." 
 
 The Sixteenth REiMovE. — We began this remove with 
 wading over Baquaug river. The water was up to our knees, ' 
 and the stream very swift, and so cold that I thought it would 
 have cut me in sunder. I was so weak and feeble that I reeled 
 as I went along, and thought there I must end my days at last, 
 after my bearing and getting through so many difficulties. 
 The Indians stood laughing to see me staggering along, but in 
 my distress the Lord gave me experience of the truth and 
 goodness of that promise, Isa. 43: 2, — "WAew thou passeth 
 through the water I ivill be with thee, and through the rivers, 
 they shall not overjhw thee." Then I sat down to put on my 
 stockings and shoes, with the tears running down my eyes, 
 and many sorrowful thoughts in my heart. But I got up to 
 go along with them. Quickly there came up to us an Indian 
 who informed them that I must go to Wachusef* to my mas- 
 ter, for there was a letter come from the council to the saga- 
 mores about redeeming the captives, and that there would be 
 another i.i fourteen days, and that I must be there ready. My 
 heart was so heavy before that I could scarce speak or go in 
 the path, and yet now so light that I could run. My strength 
 seemed to come again, and to recruit my feeble knees and 
 aching heart; yet it pleased them to go but one mile that 
 night, and there we staid two days. In that time came a com- 
 pany of Indians to us, near thirty, all on horseback. My heart 
 skipped within me, thinking they had been Englishmen, at the 
 first sight of them ; for they were dressed in English apparel, 
 with hats, white neckcloths, and sashes about their waists, and 
 ribbons upon their shoulders. But when they came near there 
 was a vast difference between the lovely faces of Christians 
 and the foul looks of those heathen, which much damped my 
 spirits again. 
 
 The Seventeenth Remove. — A comfortable remove it was 
 to me, because of my hopes. They gave me my pack and 
 along we went cheerfully. But quickly my will proved more 
 
 * Princeton. The mountain in this town still retains the name jf Wa- 
 chuset, notwithstanding a recent attempt to change it to Mount .idams. 
 
 fl venerate the name of Adams, but I must protest against the 'leathen- 
 ike practice ot destroying the old names of places. The interior of New 
 York deserves to be chastised by an earthquake for such libellous con* 
 duct. — Ed.] 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 4ff 
 
 than my strength ; having little or no refreshment, my strength 
 failed, and my spirits were almost quite gone. Now may I 
 say as David, Psal. 109: 22, 23, 24, — ^'I am poor and 7ieedy, 
 and viy heart is wounded toithin me. I am gone like a shadow 
 vihen it declineth. I am tossed up and down like the locust. 
 My knees are weak through fasting, and my flesh faileth of fat- 
 ness" At night we came to an Indian town, and the Indians 
 sat down by a wigwam discoursing, but I was almost spent 
 and could scarce speak. I laid down my load and went into 
 the wigwam, and there sat an Indian boiling of horse-feet, 
 tiiey being wont to eat the flesh first, and when the feet were 
 old and dried, and they had nothing else, they would cut off 
 the feet and use them. I asked him to give me a little of his 
 broth, or water they were boiling it in. He took a dish and 
 gave me one spoonful of samp, and bid me take as much of 
 the broth as I would. Then I put some of the hot water to 
 the samp, and drank it up, and my spirits came again. He 
 gave me also a piece of the ruffe, or ridding of the small guts, 
 and I broiled it on the coals ; and now I may say with Jona- 
 than, "(See, 1 pray you, how mine eyes are enlightened because 
 I tasted a little of this honey." — 1 Sam. 14: 20. Now is my 
 spirit revived again. Though means be never so inconside- 
 rable, yet if the Lord bestow his blessing upon them, they shall 
 refresh both soul and body. 
 
 The Eighteenth Remove. — We took up our packs, and 
 along we went ; but a wearisome day I had of it. As we 
 went along, I ^j,w an Englishman stripped naked and lying 
 dead upon the ground, but knew not who he was. Then we 
 came to another Indian town, where we staid all night. In 
 this town there were four English children captives, and one 
 of them my own sifter's. I went to see how she did, and she 
 was well, considering her captive condition. I would have 
 tarried that night with her, but they that owned her would not 
 suffer Jit. Then I went to another wigwam, where they were 
 boiling corn and beans, which was a lovely sight to see, but I 
 could not get a taste thereof. Then I went into another wig- 
 wam, where there were two of the English children. The 
 squaw was boiling horses' feet. She cut me off a little piece, 
 and gave one of tha English children a piece also. Being 
 very hungry, I had quickly eat up mine ; but the child could 
 not bite it, it was so tough and sinewy, and lay sucking, gnaw- 
 ing, and slabbering of it in the mouth and hand ; then I took 
 it of the child, md eat it myself, and savory it was to my taste: 
 that I may say as Job, chap. 6 : 7, — " The things that my soul 
 refuseth to touch are as my sorrowful meat." Thus the Lord 
 made that pleasant and refreshing which another time would 
 
46 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 have been an abomination. Then I went home to my mis- 
 tress' wigwam, and they told me I disgraced my master with 
 begging, and if I did so any more they would knock me on 
 the head. I told them they had as good do that as starve me 
 to death. 
 
 The Nineteenth Remove. — They said when we went out 
 that we must travel to Wachuset this day. But a bitter weary 
 day I had of it, travelling now three days together, without 
 resting any day between. At last, after many weary steps, 1 
 saw Wachuset hills, but many miles off. Tlien we came to a 
 great swamp, through which we travelled up to our knees in 
 mud and water, which was heavy going to one tired before. 
 Being almost spent, I thought I should have sunk down at 
 last, and never got out; but I may say as in Psalm 94: 18, — 
 ^^When my foot slipped, thy mercy, O Lord, held me up.^^ 
 Going along, having indeed my life, but little spirit, Philip, 
 who was in the company, came up, and took me by the hand, 
 and said, " Two jveeks more and you shall be mistress again." 
 I asked him if he spoke true. He said, " Yes, and quickly 
 you shall come to your master again ;" who had been gone 
 from us three weeks. After many weary steps, we came to 
 Wachuset, where he was, and glad was I to see him. He 
 asked me when I washed me. I told him not this month. 
 Then he fetched me some water himself, and bid me wash, 
 and gave me a glass to see how I looked, and bid his squaw 
 give me something to eat. So she gave me a mess of beans 
 and meat, and a little ground-nut cake. I was wonderfully 
 revived with this favor showed me. Psalm 106: 46, — ^^He 
 made them also to be pitied of all those that carried them away 
 captive. ^^ 
 
 My master had three squaws, living sometimes with one 
 and sometimes with another : Onux, this old squaw at whose 
 wigwam I was, and with whom my master had been these 
 three weeks. Another was Wettimore,^ with whom I h^i^ 
 lived and served all this while, A severe and proud dame 
 she was, bestowing every day in dressing herself near as much 
 time as any of the gentry of the land ; powdering her hair and 
 painting her face, going with her necklaces, with jewels in her 
 ears, and bracelets upon her hands. When she had dressed 
 herself, her work was to make girdles of wampum and beads. 
 The third squaw was a younger one, by whom he had two 
 papooses. By that time I was refreshed by the old squaw, 
 Wettimore's maid came to call me home, at which I fell a 
 
 * She had been he wife of Alexander, Philip's elder brother. See 
 Book of the Indians. 
 
MFS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 47 
 
 weeping. Then the old squaw told me, to encourn^e me, that 
 when I wanted victuals I .should come to her, and that I should 
 lie in her wigwam. Then I went with the maid, and quickly 
 I came back and lodged there. The squaw laid a mot under 
 me, and a good rug ovCi me ; the first time that I had any such 
 kindness showed me. I understood that Wetiimore thought, 
 that if she should let me go and serve with the old squaw, she 
 should be in danger to lose not only my service, but the re- 
 demption-pay also. And I was not a little glad to hear this ; 
 being by it raised in my hopes that in God's due time there 
 would be an end of this sorrowful hour. Then came an Indian 
 and asked me to knit him three pair of stockings, for which I 
 had a hat and a silk handk3rchief. Then another asked me 
 to make her a shift, for which she gave me an apron. 
 
 Then came Tom and Peter with the second letter from the 
 council, about the captives. Though they were Indians, I gat 
 them by the hand, and burst out into tears ; my heart was so 
 full that I could not speak' to them ; but recovering myself, I 
 asked them how my husband did, and all my friends and 
 acquaintance. They said they were well, but very melancholy. 
 They brought me two biscuits and a pound of tobacco. The 
 tobacco I soon gave away. When it was all gone one asked 
 me to give him a pipe of tobacco. I told him it was all gone. 
 Then he began to rant and threaten. I told him when my 
 husband came I would give him some. •• Hang him, rogue," 
 says he ; "I will knock out his brains if he comes here." And 
 then again at the same breath they would say that if there 
 should come an hundred without guns they would do them no 
 hurt ; so unstable and like madmen they were. So that fear- 
 ing the worst, I durst not send to my husband, though there 
 were some thoughts of his corning to redeem and fetch me, not 
 knowing what might follow ; for there was little more trust to 
 them than to the master they served. When the letter was 
 come, the sagamores met to consult about the captives, and 
 called me to them, to inquire how much my husband would 
 give to redeem me. When I came I sat down among them, 
 as I was wont to do, as their manner is. Then they bid me 
 stand up, and said they were the general court. They bid me 
 speak what I thought he would give. Now knowing that all 
 that we had was destroyed by the Indians, I was in a great 
 strait. I thought if I should speak of but a little, it would be 
 slighted and hinder the matter; if of a great sum, I knew not 
 where it would be procured ; yet at a venture I said twenty 
 pounds, yet desired them to take less ; but they would not hear 
 of that, but sent the message to Boston, that for twenty pounds 
 I should be redeemed. It was a praying Indian that wrote 
 
ii i 
 
 48 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 > ; X 
 
 
 » 
 
 It 
 
 
 their letters for them.* There was another praying Indian, 
 who told me that he had a brother that would not eat horse, 
 his conscience was so tender and scrjjpulous, though as large 
 as hell for the destruction of poor Christians. Then he said 
 he read that scripture to him, 2 Kings 6 : 25, — " There was a 
 famine in Samaria, and behold they besieged it, until an ass's 
 head was sold for fourscore pieces of silver, and the fourth part 
 of a kab of dove's dung for Jive pieces of silver." He expound- 
 ed this place to his broi' ix, and showed him that it was lawful 
 to eat that in a famine which it is not at another time. "And 
 now," says ho, •' he will eat horse with any Indian of them 
 all." There was another praying Indian,! who, when he had 
 done all the mischief that he could, betrayed his own father 
 into the English's hands, thereby to purchase his own life. 
 Another praying Indian was at Sudbury fight, though, as he 
 deserved, he was afterwards hanged for it. There was another 
 praying Indian so wicked and cruel as to wear a string about 
 his neck strung with Christian fingers. Another praying In- 
 dian, when they went to Sudbury fight, wgfit with them, and 
 his squaw also with him, with her papoos at her back.t Be- 
 fore they went to that fight, they got a company together to 
 powow. The manner was as followeth. 
 
 There was one that kneeled upon a deer-skin, with the com- 
 pany around him in a ring, who kneeled, striking upon the 
 ground with their hands and with sticks, and muttering or 
 humming with their mouths. Besides him who kneeled in 
 ♦he ring there also stood one with a gun in his hand. Then 
 he on the deer-skin made a speech, and all manifested assent 
 to it ; and so they did many times together. Then they bid 
 him with a gun go out of the ring, which he did ; but when 
 he was out, they called him in again ; but he seemed to make 
 a stand. Then they called the more earnestly, till he turned 
 again. Then they all sang. Then they gave him two guns, 
 in each hand one. And so he on the deer-skin began again ; 
 and at the end of every sentence in his speaking they all 
 assented, and humming or muttering with their mouths, and 
 striking upon the ground with their hands. Then they bid 
 him with the two guns go out of the ring again ; which he did 
 
 * They may be seen in the Book of the Indians. 
 
 t Peter Jethro. — lb . 
 
 1 These remarks ot Mrs. Rowlandson are no doubt just. The praying 
 Indians, after all, take them as a class, made but sorry Christians. More 
 comfortable dwellings, a few blankets every year, some small privileges, 
 and a little increase, for the time, of personal consideration, were motives 
 sufficiently strong to induce savages to change their religious faith, which 
 at best hung but very loosely about them. 
 
 ! 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 49 
 
 a little way. Then they called him again, but he made a stand, 
 so they called him with greater earnestness; but he stood 
 reeling and waverjng, as if he knew not whether he should 
 stand or fall, or which way to go. Then they called him with 
 exceeding great vehemency, all of them, one and another. 
 After a little while he turned in, staggering as he went, with 
 his arms stretched out, in each hand a gun. As soon as he 
 came in, they all sang and rejoiced excpedingly a while, and 
 then he upon the deer-skin made ane-%er speech, unto which 
 they all assented in a rejoicing ma^i^ner ; and so they ended 
 their business, and forthwith went to Sudbury fight.''^ 
 
 To my thinking, they went without any scruple but that 
 they should prosper and gain the victory. And they went out 
 not so rejoicing, but they came home with as great a victory ; 
 for they said they killed two captains and almost an hundred 
 men. One Englishman they brought alive with them, and he 
 said it was too true, for they had made sad work at Sudbury ; 
 as indeed it proved. Yet they came home without that rejoic- 
 ing and triumphing over their victory which they were wont 
 to show at other times ; but rather like dogs, as they say, which 
 have lost their cars. Yet I could not perceive that it was for 
 their own loss of men ; they said they lost not above five or 
 six ; and I missed none, except in one wigwam. When they 
 went they acted as if the devil had told them that they should 
 gain the victory, and now they acted as if the devil had told 
 them they should have a fall. Whether it were so or no, I 
 cannot tell, but so it proved ; for they quickly began to fall, 
 and so held on .hat summer, till they came to utter ruin. They 
 came home on a Sabbath day, and tLe pawaw that kneeled 
 upon the deer-skin came home, I may say without any abuse, 
 as black as the devil. When my master came home he came 
 to me and bid me make a shirt for his papoos, of a Holland 
 laced pillowbeer. 
 
 About that time there came an Indian to me, and bid me 
 come to his wigwam at night, and he would give me some pork 
 and ground-nuts, which I did ; and as I was eating, another 
 Indian said to me, " He seems to be your good friend, but he 
 killed two Englishmen at Sudbury, and there lie the clothes 
 behind you." I looked behind me, and there I saw bloody 
 clothes, with bullet-holes in them ; yet the Lord suffered not 
 this wretch to do me any hurt, yea, instead of that, he many 
 times refreshed me : five or six times did he and his squaw 
 refresh my feeble carcass. If I went to their wigwam at any 
 time, they would always give me something, and yet they were 
 
 * Sudbury was attacked 21st April. 
 ^ 6 
 
f- 
 
 60 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 strangers that I never saw before. Another squaw gave me a 
 piece of fresh pork, and a little salt with it, and lent me her frying 
 pan to fry it ; and I cannot but remember what a sweet, pleasant 
 and delightful relish that bit had to me, to this day. So little 
 do we prize common mercies, when we have them to the full. 
 
 The Twentieth Remove. — It was their usual manner to 
 remove when they had done any mischief, lest they should be 
 found out ; and so they did at this time. We went about 
 three or four miles, and there they built a great wigwam, big 
 enough to hold an hundred Indians, which they did in prepa- 
 ration to a great day of dancing. They would now say among 
 themselves that the governor^ would be so angry for his loss 
 at Sudbury that he would send no more about the captives, 
 which made me grieve and tremble. My sistert being not far 
 from this place, and hearing that I was here, desired her mas- 
 ter to let her come and see me, and he was willing to it, and 
 would come with her ; but she, being ready first, told him she 
 would go before, and was come within a mile or two of the 
 place. Then he overtook her, and began to rant as if he had 
 been mad, and made her go back again in the rain ; so that I 
 never saw her till I saw her in Charlestown. But the Lord 
 requited many of their ill doings, for this Indian, her master, 
 wr^s hanged afterwards at Boston.^ They began now to come 
 from all quarters, against their merry dancing day. Amongst 
 some of them came one goodwife Kettle. I told her my heart 
 was so heavy that it was ready to break. " So is mine too," 
 said she, " but yet I hope we shall hear some good news short- 
 ly." I could hear how earnestly my sister desired to see me, 
 and I earnestly desired to see her ; yet neither of us could get 
 an opportunity. My daughter was now but a mile off, and I 
 had not seen ner for nine or ten weeks, as I had not seen my 
 sister since our first taking. I desired them to let me go and 
 see them, yea I entreated, begged aad persuaded them to let 
 me see my daughter ; and yet so hard-hearted were they that 
 they would not suffer it. They made use of their tyrannical 
 power whilst they had it, but through the Lord's wonderful 
 mercy their time was now but short. 
 
 On a Sabbath day, the sun being about an hour high in the 
 afternoon, came Mr. John Hoar, (the council permitting him, 
 and his own forward spirit inclining him,) together with the 
 two forementioned Indians, Tom and Peter, with the third let- 
 ter from the council. When they came near, I was abroad. 
 
 • Leverett. f Mrs, Drew. 
 
 % Mrs. Drew's master was probably Monoco. 
 hanged at the same time, viz. 26th Sept. 1676. 
 
 T> 
 Tl 
 
 Several chiefs were 
 
# 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 in 
 
 Ui H 
 
 heart 
 too," 
 short- 
 ee me, 
 Id get 
 and I 
 en my 
 go and 
 to let 
 y that 
 nnical 
 iderful 
 
 Thfjy presently called n>3 in, and bid me sit down and not stir. 
 Then they catched up their guns and away they ran, as if an 
 enemy had been At hard, and the guns went off apace. I 
 manifested some great trouble, and asked them what was the 
 matter. I toid them I thought they had killed the English- 
 man, (for they had in the mean time told me that an English- 
 man was come;) they said no ; they shot-over his horse, and 
 under, and before his horse, and they pushed him this way 
 and that way, at their pleasure, showing him what they could 
 do. Then they let him come to their wigwams. I begged of 
 them to let me see the Englishman, but they would not ; but 
 there was I fain to sit their pleasure. When they had talked 
 their fill with him, they suffered me to go to him. We asked 
 each other of our welfare, and how my husband did, and all 
 my friends. He told me they were all well, and would be glad 
 to see me. Among other things which my husband sent me, 
 there -"ai: ;^ound of tobacco, which I sold for nine shillings 
 in mom/; i-t many of them for want of tobacco smoked 
 hemlock «iiju ground-ivy. It was a great mistake in any who 
 thought I sent for tobacco, for through the favor of God that 
 desire was overcome. 
 
 I now asked them whether I should go home with Mr. 
 Hoar. They answered no, one and another of them, and it 
 being late, we lay down with that answer. In the morning 
 Mr. Hoar invited the sagamores to dinner ; but when we went 
 to get it ready, we found they had stolen the greatest part of 
 the provisions Mr. Hoar had brought. And we may see the 
 wonderful power of God, in that one passage, in that when., 
 there was such a number of them together, and so greedy of 
 a little good food, and no English there but Mr. Hoar and 
 myself, that there they did not knock us on the head and take 
 what we had ; there being not only some provision, but also 
 trading cloth, a part of the twenty pounds agreed upon. But 
 instead of doing us any mischief, they seemed to be ashamed 
 of the fact, and said it was the matchit^ Indians that did it. 
 Oh that we could believe that there was nothmg too hard for 
 God. God showed his power over the heathen in this, as he 
 did over the hungry lions when Daniel was cast into the den. 
 
 Mr. Hoar called them betime to dinner, but they ate but little, 
 they being so busy in dressing themselves and getting ready for 
 their dance ; which was carried on by eight of them, four men and 
 four squaws, my master and mistress being two. He was dres- 
 sed in his Holland shirt, with great stockings, his garters hung 
 round with shillings, and had girdles of wampom upon his 
 
 * Wicked. 
 
52 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 head and shoulders. She had a kersey coat, covered with gir- 
 dles of wampom from the loins upward. Her arms from her 
 olbows to her hands were covered with bracelets ; there were 
 
 handful 
 jewels i 
 shoes, ^ 
 always 
 same manner 
 
 " necklaces about her neck, and several sorts of 
 
 er ears. She had fine red stockings, and white 
 
 hair powdered, and her face painted red, that was 
 
 k>efore black. And all the dancers were after the 
 
 There were ♦'''o others singing and knocking 
 
 on a kettle for their music. They kept hopping up and down 
 one after another, with a kettle of water in the midst, stand- 
 ing warm upon some embers, to drink of when they were dry. 
 They held on till almost night, throwing out their wampom to 
 the standers-by. At night I asked them again if I should go 
 home. They all as one said no, except my husband would 
 come lor me. When we were Iain down, my master went out 
 of the wigwam, and by and by sent in an Indian called James 
 the printer, who told Mr. Hoar that my master would let me 
 go home to-morrow if he would let him have one pint of 
 liquor. Then Mr. Hoar called his own Indians, Tom and Pe- 
 ter, and bid them all go and see if he would promise it before 
 them three, and u he would he should have it ; which he did 
 and had it. Philip, smelling the business, called me to him, 
 and asked me what I would give him to tell me some good 
 nev/s, and to speak a good word for me, that I might go home 
 to-morrow. I told him I coujd not tell what to give him, I 
 would any thing I had, and asked hm what he would have. 
 He said two :oats, and twenty shillings in money, half a bushel 
 of seed corn, and some tobacco. I thanked him for his love, 
 but I knew that good news as well as that crafty fox. 
 
 My master, after he had his drink, quickly came ranting 
 into the wigwam again, and called for Mr. Hoar, drinking to 
 him and saying he was a good man, and then again he would 
 say, "hang him, a rogue." Being almost drunk, he would 
 drink to him, and yet presently say he should be hanged. 
 Then he called for me. I trembled to*hear him, and yet I was 
 fain to go to him ; and he drank to me, showing no incivility. 
 He was the first Indian I saw drunk, all the time 1 was among 
 them. At last his squaw ran out, and he after her round the 
 wigwam, with his money jingling at his knees, but she es- 
 caped him ; but having and old squaw, he ran to her, and so 
 through the Lord's mercy we were no more troubled with him 
 that night. Yet I had not a comfortable night's rest ; f-" I 
 think I can say I did not sleep for three nights together. The 
 night before the letter came from the council, I could not rest, 
 I was so full of fears and troubles ; yea, at this time I could 
 not rest night nor day. The next night I was overjoyed, Mr. 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 63 
 
 Hoar being come, and that with such good tid ngs. The third 
 night I was even swallowed up with the thoughts of going 
 home again, and that I must leave my children behind me in 
 the wilderness ; so that sleep was now almost departed fiom 
 mine eyes. 
 
 On 'Tuesday morning they called their General Court, as 
 they styled it, to consult and determine whether I should go 
 home or no. And they all seemingly consented that I should 
 go, except Philip, who Avould not come among them. 
 
 But before I go any farther, I would take leave to mention 
 a few remarkable passages of Providence, which I took spe- 
 cial notice of in my afflicted time. 
 
 1. Of the fair opportunity lost in the long march, a little 
 after the fort fight, when our English army was so numerous, 
 and in pursuit of the enemy, and so near as to overtake seve- 
 ral and destroy ihem ; and the enemy in such distress for 
 food that our men might track them by th^ir rooting the 
 ground for ground-nuts, whilst they were flying for their lives : 
 I say, that then our army should want provisions, and be 
 obliged to leave their pursuit, and turn homeward, and the very 
 next week the eneniy came upon our town, like bears bereft of 
 their whelps, or so many ravenous wolves, rending us and our 
 lambs to death. But what shall I say ? God seemed to 
 leave his people to themselves, and ordered all things for his 
 own holy ends. " Shall there be evil in the city and the Lord 
 hath not done it ? They are not grieved for the affliction of 
 Joseph, therefore they shall go captive loith the first that go 
 captive. It is the Lord's doings and it should be marvellous in 
 our eyes.''^ 
 
 2. I cannot but remember how the Indians derided the slow- 
 ness and the dulness of the English army in its setting out ; 
 for after the desolations at Lancaster and Medfield, as I went 
 along with them, they asked me when T thought the English 
 army would come after them. I told them I could not tell. 
 " It may be they will come in May," said they. Thus ihey 
 did scoff" at us, as if the English would be a quarter of a 
 year getting ready. 
 
 3. Which also I have hinted before, when the English army 
 with new supplies were sent forth to pursue after the enemy, 
 and they, understanding it, fled before them till they came to 
 Baquaug river, where they forthwith went over safely ; that 
 the river should be impassable to the English. I cannot but 
 admire to see the wonderful provi "e of God in preserving 
 the heathen for further affliction to our poor country. They 
 could go in weal numbers over, but the English must stop. 
 God had an overruling hand in all those things. 
 
 5* %' 
 
 'i 
 
 xffm 
 
 
 mm 
 
 wBwuiii n u i a i ajtAjg B iitM aaa 
 
64 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 4. It was thought, if their corn were cut down, tliey woi \? 
 starve and die with hunger ; and all that could he found was 
 destroyed, and they driven from thi.. little they had in store 
 into the woods, in the midst of winter ; and yet how to admi- 
 ration did the Lord preserve them for his holy ends, and the 
 destruction of many still among the English ! Strangely did 
 the Lord pre t for them, that I did not sec, all the time I 
 was among m, one man, woman, or child die with hunger. 
 Though many times they would eat that that a hog would 
 hardly touch, yet hy that God strengthened them to be a 
 scourge to his people. 
 
 Their chief and commonest food was ground-nuts ; they eat 
 also nuts and acorns, artichokes, lilly roots, ground beans, and 
 several other weeds and roots that I know not. They would 
 pick up old bones, and cut them in pieces at the joints, and if 
 they were full of worms and maggots they would scald them 
 over the fire, to make the vermin come out, and then boil 
 them, and drink up the liquor, and then beat the great ends of 
 them in a mortar, and so eat them. They would eat horses' 
 guts and ears, and all sorts of wild birds which they could 
 catch ; also bear, venison, beavers, tortoise, frogs, squirrels, 
 dogs, skunks, rattle-snakes, yea the very bark of trees ; be- 
 sides all sorts of creatures, and provisions which they plun- 
 dered from the English. I can but stand in admiration to see 
 the wonderful power of God, in providing for such a vast 
 number of our enemies in the wilderness, where thore was 
 nothing to be seen but from hand to mouth. Many times in 
 the morning the generality of them would eat up all ti^ey had, 
 and yet have some farther supply against they wanted. But 
 now our perverse and evil carriages in the sight of the Lord 
 have so offended him, that instead of turning his hand against 
 them, the Lord feeds and nourishes them up to be a scourge 
 to the whole land. 
 
 5. Another thing that I would observe is, the strange provi- 
 dence of God in turning things about when the Indians were 
 at the highest and the English at the lowest. I was with the 
 enemy eleven weeks and five days,* and not one week passed 
 without their fury and some desolation by fire or sAvord upon 
 one place or other. They mourned for their own losses, yet 
 triumphed and rejoiced in their inhuman and devilish cruelty 
 to the English. They would boast much of their victories, 
 saying that in two hours' time they had destroyed such a cap- 
 tain and his company, in such a place ; and boast how many 
 towns they had destroyed, and then scoff and say they had done 
 
 * Viz. frona Feb. 10 to May 2d or 3d. 
 
■ f 
 
 MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 a vast 
 
 piovi- 
 is were 
 nth the 
 passed 
 [d upon 
 ses, yet 
 |cruelty 
 itories, 
 a cap- 
 many 
 Id done 
 
 66 
 
 them a good turn to send them to heaven so soon. Again they 
 would say this summer they would knock all the rogues on 
 the head, or drive them into the sea, or make them fly the 
 country ; thinking , surely, Agag-like, " The bitterness of death 
 is passed." Now the heathen begin to think all is their own ; 
 and the poor Christians' hopes fall, (as to rnan,) and now their 
 eyes are more to God, and their hearts sigh heaven-ward, and 
 they say in good earnest, " Help, Lord, or toe perish." When 
 the Lord had brought his people to this, that they saw no help 
 in any thing but himself, then he takes the quarrel into his 
 own hand ; and though they made a pit as deep as hell for 
 the Christians that summer, yet the Lord hurled themselves 
 into it. And the Lord had not so many ways before to pre- 
 serve them, but now he hath as many to destroy them. 
 
 But to return again to my going home ; where we may see 
 a rem.arkable change of providence. At first they were all 
 against it> except my husband would come for me ; but after- 
 ward they assented to it, and seeming to rejoice in it ; some 
 asking me to send them some bread, others some tobacco, oth- 
 ers shaking me by the hand, offering me a hood and scarf to 
 ride in : not one moving hand or tongue against it. Thus 
 hath the Lord answered my poor desires, and the many ear- 
 nest requests of others put up unto God for me. In my travels 
 an Indian came to me, and told me if I were willing he a id his 
 squaw would run away, and go home along with me. I told 
 them no, I was not willing to run away, but desired to wait 
 God's time, that I might go home quietly and without fear. 
 And now God hath granted me my desire. O the wonderful 
 power of God that I have seen, and the experiences that I 
 have had ! I have been in the midst of those roaring lions 
 and savage bears, that feared neither God, nor man, nor the 
 devil, by night and day, alone and in company, sleeping all 
 sorts together, and yet not one of them ever offered the least 
 abuse of unchastity to me in word or action ; though some 
 are ready to say I speak it for my own credit ; but I speak it 
 in the presence of God, and to his glory. God's power is as 
 great now as it was to save Daniel in the lions' den, or the 
 three children in the fiery furnace. Especially that I should 
 come away in the midst of so many hundreds of enemies, and 
 not a dog move his tongue. 
 
 So I took my leave of them, and in coming along my heart 
 melted into tears more than all the while I was with them, 
 and I was almost swallowed up with the thoughts that ever I 
 should go home again. About the sun's going down, Mr. 
 Hoar, myself, and the two Indians, came to Lancaster ; and a 
 solemn sight it was to me. There had I lived many comfort- 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 
56 
 
 MRS. ROWL\NDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 able years nmong my relations and neighbors, and now not 
 one Christian to be seen, or one house left standing. We 
 went on to a farm-house that was yet standing, where we lay 
 all night ; and a comfortable lodging we had, though nothing 
 but straw to lie on. The Lord preserved us in safety that night, 
 raised us up again m the morning, and carried us along, that 
 before noon we came to Concord. Now was I full of joy, and 
 yet not without sorrow : joy to see such a lovely signt, so 
 many Christians together, and some of them my ne'ghbors. 
 There I met with my brother and brother-in-law,* who asked 
 me if I knew where his wife was. Poor heart ! he had helped 
 to bury her, and knew it not. She, being shot down by the 
 house, was partly burnt ; so that those who were at Boston at 
 the desolation oi the town came back afterward and buried the 
 dead, but did not know her. Yet I was not without sorrow, 
 to think how many were looking and longing, and my own 
 children among the rest, to enjoy that deliverance that I had 
 now received ; and I did not know whether ever I should see 
 them again. 
 
 Being recruited with food and raiment, we went to Boston 
 that day, where I met with my dear husband ; but the thoughts 
 of our dear children, one being dead, and the other we could 
 not tell where, abated our comfort in each other. I was not 
 before so much hemmed in by the merciless and cruel heathen, 
 but now as much with pitiful, tender-hearted, and compassion- 
 ate Christians. In that poor and beggarly condition, I was 
 received in, I was kindly entertained in several houses. So 
 much love I received from several, (many of whom I knew 
 not,) that I am not capable to declare it. But the Lord knows 
 them all by name ; the Lord reward them sevenfold into their 
 bosoms of his spirituals for their temporals. The twenty 
 pounds, the price of my redemption, was raised by some Bos- 
 ton gentlewomen, and Mr. Usher, [Hezekiah ?] whose bounty 
 and charity I would not forget to make mention of. Then 
 Mr. Thomas Shepard, of Charlestown, received us into his 
 house, where we continued eleven weeks ; and a father and 
 mother they were unto us. And many more tender-hearted 
 friends we met with in that place. We were now in the 
 midst of love, yet not without much and frequent heaviness of 
 heart for our poor children and other relations who were still 
 in affliction. 
 
 The week following, after my coming in, the governor and 
 council sent to the Indians again, and that not without success ; 
 for they brought in my sister and goodwife Kettle. Their not 
 
 Capt. Eerley. 
 
MRS. KOWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 67 
 
 knowing where our children were was a sore trial to us still ; 
 and yet we were not without secret hopes of seeing them again. 
 That which was dead lay heavier upon my spirits than those 
 which were alive among the heathen ; thinking how it suffered 
 with its wounds, and I was not able to relieve it, and how 
 it was buried by the heathen in the wilderness from among all 
 Christians. We were hurried up and down in our thoughts ; 
 sometimes we should hear a report that they were gone this 
 way and sometimes that, and that they were come in in this 
 place or that ; we kept inquiring and listening to hear con- 
 cerning them, but no certain news as yet. About this 
 time the council had ordered a day of public thanksgiving, 
 though I had still cause of mourning ; and being unsettled ia 
 our mmds, we thought we would ride eastward, to see if we 
 could hear any thing concerning our children. As we were 
 riding along between Ipswich and Rowley, we met with Wil- 
 liam Hubbard, who told us our son Joseph and my sister's son 
 were come into Major Waldren's. I asked him how he knew 
 it. He said the major himself told him so. So al^ng we 
 went till we came to Newbury ; and their minister being ab- 
 sent, they desired my husband to preach the thanksgiving for 
 them ; but he was not willing to stay there that night, but he 
 would go over to Salisbury, to hear farther, and come again in 
 the morning, which he did, and preached there that day. At 
 night, when he had done, one came and told him that his 
 daughter was come into Providence. Here was mercy on 
 both hands. Now we were between them, the one on the 
 east, and the other on the west. Our son being nearest, we 
 went to him first, to Portsmouth, where we met with him, and 
 with tiie major also ; who told us he had done what he could, 
 but could not redeem him under seven poiinds, which the good 
 people thereabouts were pleased to pay. The Lord reward the 
 major, and all thp rest, though unknown to me, for their labor 
 of love. My sister's son was redeemed for four pounds, which 
 the council gave order for the payment of. Having now re- 
 ceived one of our children, we hastened toward the other. 
 Going back through Newbury, my husband preached there on 
 the Sabbath day, for which they rewarded him manifold. 
 
 On Monday we came to Charlestown, where we heard 
 that the governor of Rhode Island had sent over for our daugh- 
 ter, to take care of her, being now within his jurisdiction ; 
 which should not pass without our acknowledgments. But 
 she being nearer Rehoboth than Rhode Island, Mr. Newman 
 went over and took care of her, and brought her to his own 
 house. And the goodness of God was admirable to us in our 
 low estate, in that he raised up compassionate friends on every 
 
 :j?...-ii-.:"J-..\.-s' 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S C/PTIVITY. 
 
 side, when we had nothing to recompense any for their love. 
 The Indians were now gone that way, th^t it was apprehend- 
 ed dangerous to go to her ; but the carts which carried provis- 
 ion to the English army, being guarded, brought her with 
 them to Dorchester, where wc received her safe. Blessed be 
 the Lord for it. Her coming in was after thii manner : she 
 was travelling one day with the Indians, with her basket at 
 her back ; the company of Indians were got before her, and 
 gone out of sight, all except one squaw. She followed the 
 squaw till night, and then both of them lay down, having 
 nothing over them but the heavens, nor under them but the 
 earth. Thus she travelled three days together, having noth- 
 ing to eat or drink but water and green hirtleberries. At last 
 they came into Providence, where she was kindly entertained 
 by several of that town. The Indians often said that I should 
 never have her under twenty pounds, but now the Lord hath 
 brought her in upon free cost, and given her to me the second 
 time. The Lord make us a blessing indeed to each other. 
 Thus hath the Lord brought me and mine out of the horrible 
 pit, and hath set us in the midst of tender-hearted and com- 
 passionate Christians. 'T is the desire of my soul that we 
 may walk worthy of the mercies received and which we are 
 receiving. 
 
 Our family being now gathered together, the South church 
 in Boston hired a house for us. Then we removed from Mr. 
 Shepard's (those cordial friends) and went to Boston, where 
 we continued about three quarters of a year.''*' Still the Lord 
 went along with us, and provided graciously for us. I 
 thought it somewhat strange to set up housekeeping with bare 
 walls, but, as Solomon bays, money ansivers all things ; and 
 this we had through the benevolence of Christian friends, some 
 in this town, and some in that, and others, and some from 
 England, that in a little time we might look and see the house 
 furnished with love. The Lord hath been exceeding good to 
 us in our low estate, in that when we had neither house nor 
 home, nor other necessaries, the Lord so moved the hearts of 
 these and those towards us, that we wanted neither food nor 
 raiment for ourselves or ours. Prov. IS : 24, " There is a 
 friend that sticketh closer than a brolher.^^ And how many 
 such friends have we found, and now living among us ! And 
 truly have we found him to be such a friend unto us in whose 
 house we lived, viz. Mr. James Whitcomb, a friend near hand 
 and far off. 
 
 I can remember the time when I used to sleep quietly, with- 
 
 * Till May, 1677. 
 
MRS. ROWLANDSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 59 
 
 out working in my thoughts, whole nights together ; but now 
 it is otherwise with me. When all are fast about me, and no 
 eye open, but His who ever awaketh, my thoughts are upon 
 things past, upon the awful dispensations of the Lord towards 
 us, upon his wonderful power and might in carrying of us 
 through so many difficulties, in returning us in safety, and 
 suffering none to hurt us. I remember in the night season 
 how the other dcy I was in the midst of thousands of enemies, 
 and nothing but death before me. It was then hard work to per- 
 suade myself that ever I should be satisfied with bread again. 
 But now we are fed with the finest of the wheat, and, as I 
 may say, with honey out of the rock. Instead of the husks we 
 have the /at calf. The thoughts of these things in the partic- 
 ulars of them, and of the love and goodness of God towards 
 us, make it true of me, what David said of himself, Psal. 6 : 6, 
 — '• I water my couch with my tears." O the wonderful power 
 of God that mine eyes have seen, aflfording matter enough 
 for my thoughts to run in, that when others are sleeping mine 
 eyes are weeping. 
 
 I have seen the extreme vanity of this world. One hour I 
 have been in health, and wealth, wanting nothing, but the next 
 hour in sickness, and wounds, and death, having nothing but 
 sorrow and affliction. Before I knew what affliction meant I 
 was ready sometimes lo wish for it. When I lived in pros- 
 perity, having the comforts of this world about me, my rela- 
 tions by me, and my heart cheerful, and taking little care for 
 any thing, and yet seeing many, whom I preferred before ray- 
 self, under many trials and afflictions, in sickness, weakness, 
 poverty, losses, crosses, and cares of the world, I should be 
 sometimes jealous lest I should have my portion in this life. 
 But now I see the Lord had his time to scourge and chasten 
 me. The portion of some is to have their affliction by drops, 
 but the wine of astonishment^ like a sweeping rain that leaveth 
 no food, did the Lord prepare to be my portion. Affliction I 
 wanted, d affliction 1 had, full measure, pressed down and 
 running over. Yet I see when God calls persons to never so 
 many difficulties, yet he is able to carry them through, and 
 make them say they have been gainers thereby ; and I hope I 
 can say, in some measure, as David, it is good for me that I 
 have been afflicted. The Lord hath showed me the vanity of 
 these outward things, that they are the vanities of vanities and 
 vexation of spirit ; that they are but a shadow, a blast, a bubble, 
 and things of no continuance. If trouble from smaller matter 
 begin to rise in me, I have something at hand to check myself 
 with, and say, " Why am I troubled ?" It was but the other 
 day that if I had the world I would have given it for my free* 
 
 iS^ 
 
60 
 
 I 
 
 STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 dom, or to have been a servant to a Christian. I have learned 
 to look beyond present and smaller troubles, and to be quieted 
 under them, as Moses said, Exod. 14 : 13, — " Stand still and 
 see the salvation of the Lord." 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE CAPTIVITY OP QUINTIN STOCKWELL, WHO WAS TA- 
 KEN AT DEERFIELD, IN MASSACHUSETTS, BY A PARTY OP 
 INLAND INDIANS, IN THE YEAR 1677; COMMUNICATED IN 
 HIS OWN WORDS, AND ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE 
 EMINENT DR. INCREASE MATHER, IN THE YEAR 1684. 
 
 A particular account of the irruption in which Stockwell and others fell 
 into the hands of the Indians will be found in the Book of the Indians, 
 Book iii, p. 97 and 98. Out of twenty-four at that time killed and taken, 
 ire learn the names only of these ; Quintin Stockwell, John Root, Sergeant 
 Plimpton, Benjamin Stebbins, his wife, Benjamin Waite, and Samuel Rus- 
 sell. Plimpton was burnt in their cruel manner, Root was killed, and 
 Stebbins escaped. Of the others I have learned nothing. 
 
 In the year 1677, September the 19th, between sunset and 
 dark, the Indians came upon us. I and another man, being 
 together, we ran away at the outcry the Indians made, shout- 
 ing and shooting at some others of the English that were hard 
 by. We took a swamp that was at hand for our refuge ; the 
 enemy espying us so near them, run after us, and shot many 
 guns at us ; three guns were discharged upon me, the enemy 
 being within three rods of me, besides many others before that. 
 Being in this swamp, which was miry, I slumped in and fell 
 down, whereupon one of the enemy stepped to me, with his 
 hatchet lifted up to knock me on the head, supposing that I had 
 been wounded and so unfit for any other travel. I, as it hap- 
 pened, had a pistol by me, which, though uncharged, I presented 
 to the Indian, who presently stepped back, and told me if I 
 would yield I should have no hurt ; he said, which was not 
 true, that they had destroyed all Hatfield, and that the woods 
 were full of Indians, whereupon I yielded myself, and falling 
 into their hands, was by three of them led away unto the place 
 whence first I began to make my flight. Here two other In- 
 dians came running to us, and the one lifting up the butt end 
 of his gun, to knock me on the head, the other with his hand 
 put by the blow, and said I was his friend. I was now by my 
 
STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 •I 
 
 own house, which the Indians burnt the last year, and I was 
 about to build up again ; and there I had some hopes to escape 
 from them. There was a horse just by, which they bid me take. 
 I did so, but made no attempt to escape thereby, because the 
 enemy was near, and the beast was slow and dull. Then was 
 I in hopes they would send me to take my own horses, which 
 they did ; but they were so frightened that I could not come 
 near to them, and so fell still into the enemy's hands. They 
 now took and bound me and led me away, and soon was I 
 brought into the company of other captives, who were that day 
 brought away from Hatneld, who were about a mi,.; off; and 
 here methought was matter of joy and sorrow both : joy to 
 see company, and sorrow for our condition. Then were we 
 pinioned and led away in the night over the mountains in dar^ 
 and hideous ways, about four miles further, before we took up 
 our place for rest, which was in a dismal place of wood, on 
 the east side of that mountain. We were kept bound all thnt 
 night. The Indians kept waking, and we had little mind .o 
 sleep in this night's travel. The Indians dispersed, and as th y 
 went made strange noises, as of wolves and owls, and other 
 wild beasts, to the end that they might not lose one another, 
 and if followed they might not be discovered by the English. 
 
 About the break of day. we marched again, and got over that 
 great river at Pecomptuck [Deerfield] river mouth, and theie 
 rested about t ' ' lours. Here the Indians marked out upon 
 trees the n^-nm^r of their captives and slain, as their manner 
 is. Now was I again in great danger, a quarrel having arose 
 about me, whose captive I was ; for three took me. I thought 
 I must be killed to end the controversy, so when they put it to 
 me, whose I was, I said three Indians took me ; S;. <hr?y agreed 
 to have all a share in me. I had now three ma:: ;is, and he 
 was my chief master who laid hands on me first ; and thus 
 was I fallen into the hands of the worst of all the company, as 
 AsHPELON, the Indian captain, told me ; which captain was all 
 along very kind to me, and a great comfjn to the English. 
 In this place they gave us some victuals, which they had brought 
 from the English. This morning also they sent ten men forth 
 to the town [of Deerfield] to bring away what they could find. 
 Some provision, some corn out of the meadow, they brought to 
 us on horses, which they had there taken. 
 
 From hence we went up about the falls, where we crossed 
 that river again ; and whilst I was going, I fell right down lame 
 of my old wounds, which I had in the war, and whilst I was 
 thinking I should therefore- be killed by the Indians, and what 
 death I should die, my pain was suddenly gone, and I was 
 much encouraged again. We had about eleven horses ia that 
 6 
 
62 
 
 STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 company, which the Indians used to convey burthens, and lo 
 carry women. It was afternoon when we now crossed that 
 river. We travelled up it till night, and then took up our 
 lodging in a dismal place, and were staked down, and spread 
 out on our backs ; and so we lay all night, yea, so we lay 
 many nights. They told me their law was that we should lie 
 so nme nights, and by that time it was thought we should be 
 out of our knowledge. The manner of staking down was 
 thus: our arms and legs, stretched out, were staked fast down, 
 and a cord about our necks, so that we could stir noways. 
 The first night of staking down, being much tired, I slept as 
 comfortable as ever. The next day we went up the river, and 
 crossed it, and at night lay in Squakheag [Northfield] meadows. 
 Ouj: provision was soon spent, and while we lay in those mea- 
 dows the Indians went a hunting, and the English army came 
 out after us. Then the Indians moved again, dividing them- 
 selves and the captives into many companies, that the English 
 .might not follow their tracks. At night, having crossed the 
 river, we met again at the place appointed. The next day we 
 crossed it again on Squakheag side, and there we took up our 
 quarters for a long time. I suppose this might be about thirty 
 miles above Squakheag ; and here were the Indians quite out 
 of all fear of the English, but in great fear of the Mohawks. 
 Here they built a long wigwam, and had a great dance, as they 
 call it, and concluded to burn three of lis, and had got bark lo 
 do it with, and, as I understood afterwards, I 'vas one that was 
 to brfJiburnt, sergeant Plimpton another, and Benjamin Waite's 
 wife the third. Though I knew not which was to be burnt, 
 yet I perceived some were designed thereunto ; so much I un- 
 derstood of their language. That night I could not sleep for 
 fear of next day's work ; the Indians, being weary with the 
 dance, lay down to sleep, and slept soundly. The English 
 were all loose ; then I went out and brought in wood, and 
 mended the fire, and made a noise on purpose, but none awak- 
 ed. I thought if any of the English would awake, we might 
 kill them all sleeping. I removed out of the way all the guns 
 and hatchets, but my heart failing me, I put all things where 
 they were again. The next day, when we were to be burnt, 
 our master and some others spoke for us, and the evil was pre- 
 vented in this place. Hereabouts we lay three weeks together. 
 Here I had a shirt brought to me to make, and one Indian said 
 it should be made this way, a second another way, a third his 
 way. I told them I would make it that way my chief master 
 said ; whereupon one Indian struck me on the face with his 
 fist. I suddenly rose up in anger, ready to strike again ; upon 
 this happened a great hubbub, and the Indians and English 
 
STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 63 
 
 lis pre- 
 
 rether. 
 
 In said 
 
 Ird his 
 
 mster 
 
 Ith his 
 
 upon 
 
 iglish 
 
 came about me. I was fain to humble myself to my master, 
 80 that matter was put up. Before I came to this place, my 
 three masters were gone a hunting; I was left with another 
 Indian, all the company being upon a march ; I was left with 
 this Indian, who fell sick, so that I was fain to carry his gun 
 and hatchet, and had opportunity, and had thought to have 
 dispatched him and run away ; but did not, for that the English 
 captives had promised the contrary to one another ; because, if 
 one should run away, that would provoke the Indians, and 
 endanger the rest that could not run away. 
 
 Whilst we were here, Benjamin Stebbins, going with some 
 Indians to Wachuset Hills, made his escape from them, and 
 when the news of his escape came we v/ere all presently called 
 in and bound ; one of the Indians, a captain among them, 
 and always our great friend, met me coming in, and told me 
 Stebbins was run away ; and the Indians spake of burning 
 us ; some, of only burning and biting off our fingers, by and 
 by. He said there would be a court, and all would speak their 
 minds, but he would speak last, and would say, that the Indian 
 who let Stebbins run away was only in fault, and so no hurt 
 should be done us, and added, " fear not ;" so it proved accor- 
 dingly. Whilst we lingered hereabout, provision grew scarce ; 
 one bear's foot must serve five of us a whole day. We began 
 to eat horge-flesh, and eat up seven in all ; three were left alive, 
 and not ktlled. After we had been here, some of the Indians 
 had been down, and fallen upon Hadley, and were taken by 
 the English, agreed with and let go again. They were to meet 
 the English upon such a plain, there to make further terms. 
 AsHPALON was much for it, but Wachuset sachems, when they 
 came, were much against it, and were for this : that we should 
 meet the English, indeed, but there fall upon them and fight 
 them, and take them. Then Ashpelon spake to us English, 
 not to speak a word more to further that matter, for mischief 
 would come of it. When those Indians came from Wachuset 
 there came with them squaws and children, about four-score, 
 who reported that the English had taken Uncas, and all his 
 men, and sent them beyond seas They were much enraged 
 at this, and asked us if it were true ; we said no. Then was 
 AsHPALON angry, and said he would no more believe English- 
 men. They examined us every one apart, and then they dealt 
 worse with us for a season than before. Still provision was 
 scarce. We came at length to a place called Squaw-Maug river ; 
 there we hoped for salmon ; but we came too late. This place 
 I account to be above t\^o hundred miles above Deerfield. -We 
 now parted into two companies ; some went one way, and somo 
 went another way ; and we went over a mighty mountain, it 
 
 # 
 
r 
 
 STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ^^■:. 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 ' . 
 
 ti 
 
 taking us eight days to go over it, and travelled very hard too, 
 having every day either snow or rain. We noted that on this 
 mountain all the water run northward. Here also we wanted 
 provision ; but at length we met again on the other side of the 
 mountain, viz. on the north side, at a river that runs into the 
 lake ; and we were then half a day's journey off the lake. 
 
 W© staid here a great while, to make canoes to go over the 
 lake. Here I was frozen, and again we were like to starve. 
 All the Indians went a hunting, but could get nothing : divers 
 days they powwowed, and yet got nothing; then they desired 
 the English to pray, and confessed they could do nothing ; they 
 would have us pray, and see what the Englishman's God could 
 do. I prayed, so did sergeant Plimpton, in another place. 
 The Indians reverently attended, morning and night. Next 
 day they got bears ; then they would needs have us desire a 
 blessing, and return thanks at meals ; after a while they grew 
 weary of it, and the sachem did forbid us. When I was fro- 
 zen, they were very cruel towards me, because I could not do 
 as at otner times. When we came to the lake we were again 
 ^'- sadly put to it for provision. We were fain to eat touchwood 
 fried in bear's grease. At last we found a company of raccoons, 
 and then we made a feast ; and the manner was that we must 
 «at all. I perceived there would be too much for one time, so 
 one Indian who sat next to me bid me slip away some to him 
 under his coat, and he would hide it for me till another time. 
 This Indian, as soon as he had got my meat, stood up and 
 made a speech to the rest, and discovered me ; so that the In- 
 dians were very angry and cut me another piece, and gave me 
 raccoon grease to drink, which made me sick and vomit. I 
 told them I had enough ; so ever after that they would give 
 me none, but still tell me I had raccoon enough. So I suffer- 
 ed much, and being frozen, was full of pain, and could sleep 
 but a little, yet must do my work. When they went upon the 
 lake, and as they rame to it, they lit of a moose and killed it, 
 and staid there till they had eaten it all up. 
 
 After entering upon the lake, there arose a great storm, and 
 we thought we should all be cast away, but at last we got to 
 an island, and there they went to powwowing. The powwow 
 said that Benjamin Waite and another man was coming, and 
 that storm was raised to cast them away. This afterward ap- 
 peared to be true, though then I believed them not. Upon this 
 island we lay still several days, and then set out again, but a 
 storm took us, so that we lay to and fro, upon certain islands, 
 about three weeks. We had no provision but raccoons, so that 
 the Indians themselves thought they should be starved. They 
 gave me nothing, so that I was sundry Jays without any pro- 
 
STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 vision. We went on upon the lake, upon that isle, about a 
 day's journey. We had a little sled upon which we drew our 
 load. Before noon, I tired, and just then the Indians met with 
 some Frenchmen ; then one of the Indians that took me came 
 to me and called me all manner of bad names, and threw me 
 down upon my back. I told him 1 could not do any more ; then 
 he said he must kill me. I thought he was about to do it, 
 for he pulled out his knife and cut out my pockets, and wrap- 
 ped them about my face, helped me up, and took my sled and 
 went away, giving me a bit of biscuit, as big as a walnut, 
 which he had of the Frenchman, and told me he would give 
 me a pipe of tobacco. When my sled was gone, I could run 
 after him, but at last I could not run, but went a foot-pace. 
 The Indians were soon out of sight. I followed as well as I 
 could, and had many falls upon the ice. 
 
 At last, 1 was so spent, I had not strength enough to rise 
 again, but I crept to a tree that lay along, and got upon it, 
 and there I lay. It wc3 now night, and very sharp weather : 
 I counted no other but that I must die here. Whilst I was 
 thinking of death, an Indian hallooed, and I answered him ; 
 he came to me, and called me bad names, and told me if I 
 could not go he must knock me on the head. I told him he 
 must then do so ; he saw how I had wallowed in the snow, 
 but could not rise ; then he took his coat and wrapt me in it, 
 and went back and sent two Indians with a sled. One said 
 he must knock me on the head, the other said no, they would 
 carry me away and burn me. Then they bid me stir my in- 
 step, to see if that were frozen ; I did so. When they saw 
 that, they said that was Wurregen.* There was a chirur- 
 geon among the French, they said, that could cure me ; then 
 they took me upon a sled, and carried me to the fire, and made 
 much of me ; pulled off my wet and wrapped me in dry 
 clothes, and made me a good bed. They had killed an otter, 
 and gave me some of the broth made of it, and a bit of the 
 flesh. Here I slept till towards day, and then was able to get 
 up and put on my clothes. One of the Indians awaked, and 
 seeing me walk, shouted, as rejoicing at it. As soon as it was 
 light, I ari Samuel Russell went before on the ice, upon a river. 
 They jsaid I must go where I could on foot, else I should 
 freeze. Samuel Russell slipt into the river with one foot ; the 
 Indians called him back, and dried his stockings, and then sent 
 us away, and an Indian with us to pilot us. We went four or 
 five miles before they overtook us. I was then pretty well 
 spent. Samuel Russell was, he said, faint, and wondered howl 
 
 * See Book of the Indians, B. ii. 85. 
 6* 
 
 v0' 
 
 % 
 
«iS 
 
 STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 could live, for he had, he said, ten meals to my one. Then 
 I was laid on the sled, and they ran away with me on the ice ; 
 the rest and Samuel Russell came softly after. Samuel Russell 
 I never saw more, nor know I what became of him. They 
 got but half way, and v/e got through to Shamblee about mid- 
 night. Six miles off Snamblee, (a French town,) the river was 
 open, and when I cam^ fo travel in that part of the ice, I soon 
 tired ; and two Inditr^ ^ lan away to town, and one only was 
 left ; he would carry me a few rods, and then I would go 
 as many, and then a trade we drove, and so were long in 
 going the six miles. This Indian was now kind, and told me 
 that if he did not carry me I would die, and so I should have 
 done, sure enough ; and he said I must tell the English how 
 he helped me. When we came to the first house, there was 
 no inhabitant. The Indian was also spent, and both were dis- 
 couraged ; he said we must now die together. At last he left 
 me alone, and got to another house, and thence came some 
 Ftench and Indians, and brought me in. The French were 
 kind, and put my hands and feet in cold water, and gave me 
 a dram of brandy, and a little hasty pudding and milk ; when 
 I tasted victuals I was hungry, and could not have forborne it, 
 but I could not get it. Now and then they would give me a 
 little, as they thought best for me. I laid by the fire with the 
 Indian that night, but could not sleep for pain. Next morn- 
 ing ♦he Indians and French fell out about me, because the 
 French, as the Indians said, loved the English better than the 
 Indians. The French presently turned the Indians out of 
 doors, and kept me. 
 
 They were very kind and careful, and gave me a little 
 something now and then. While I was here all the men in 
 that town came to see me. At this house I was three or four 
 days, and then invited to another, and after that to another. 
 In this place I was about thirteen days, and received much 
 civility from a young man, a bachelor, who invited me to his 
 house, with whom I was for the most part of the time. He 
 was so kind as to lodge me in the bed with himself, gave me a 
 shirt, and would have bought me, but could not, as the Indians 
 asked one hundred pounds for me. We were then to go to a 
 place called Sorel, and that young man would go with me, be- 
 cause the Indians should not hurt me. This man carried me 
 on the ice one day's journey, for I could not now go at all, and 
 there was so much water on the ice we could go no further. 
 So the Frenchman left me, and provision for me. Here we 
 staid two nig'hts, and then travelled again, for now the ice was 
 strong, and in two days more we came to Sorel. When we 
 got (to the first house, it was late in the iiight ; and here again 
 
STOCKWELL'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 6T 
 
 the people were kind. Next day, being in much pain, I asked 
 the Indians to carry me to the chirurgeons, as they had promised, 
 at which they were wroth, and one of them took up his gun 
 to knock me, but the Frenchman would not suiTer it, but set 
 upon him and kicked him out of doors. Then we went away 
 from thence, to a place two or three miles off, where the 
 Indians had wigwams. When I came to these wigwams some 
 of the Indians knew me, and seemed to pity me. 
 
 While I was here, which was three or four days, the French 
 came to see me ; and it being Christmas time, they brought 
 cakes and other provisions with them and gave to me, so that 
 I had no want. The Indians tried to cure me, but could not. 
 Then I asked for the chirurgeon, at which one of the Indians 
 in anger struck me on the face with his fist. A Frenchman 
 being by, spoke to him, but I knew not what he said, and then 
 went his way. By and by came the captain of the place into 
 the wigwam, with about twelve armed men, and asked where 
 the Indiar, ,va& that struck the Englishman. They took him 
 and told him he should go to the bilboes, and then be hanged. 
 The Indians were much terrified at this, as appeared by their 
 countenances and trembling. I would have gone too, but the 
 Frenchman bid me not fear ; that the Indians durst not hurt me. 
 When that Indian was gone, I had two masters still. I asked 
 them to carry me to that captain, that I might speak for the 
 Indian. They answered, •' You are a fool. Do you think the 
 French are like the English, to say one thing and do another? 
 They are men of their words." I prevailed with them, how- 
 to help me thither, and I spoke to the captain by an 
 InfeTptMet, and told him I desired him to set the Indian free, 
 and told hirif-wliat he had done for me. He told me he was a 
 rogue, and shoulab«>4iaiiged. Then I spoke more privately, 
 alleging this reason, tfettv^ecause all the English captives 
 were not come in, if he were hanged, it might fare the worse 
 with them. The captain said " that was to be considered." 
 Then he set him at liberty upon this condition, that he should 
 never strike me more, and every day bring me to his house to 
 eat victuals. I perceived that the common people did not like 
 what the Indians had done and did to the English. When 
 the Indian was set free, he came to me, and took me about the 
 middle, and said I was his brother; that I had saved his life 
 once, and he had saved mine thrice. Then he called for 
 brandy and made me drink, and had me away to the wigwams 
 again. When I came there, the Indians came to me one by 
 one, to shake hands with me, saying Wurregen Netop,* and 
 
 
 ■Wi 
 
 * Friend, it is well. — Ed. 
 
 :!J.! -f 
 
68 
 
 SARAH GERISH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 were very kind, thinking no other but that I had saved the 
 Indian's life. 
 
 The next day he carried me to that captain's house, and 
 set me down.* They gave me my victuals aiui wiio, and 
 being left there a while by the Indians, I showed ihe .aptain 
 my fingers, which when be and his wife saw they ran nv;ay 
 from the sight, and bid m« lap it up again, and scit (ox tha 
 chirurgeon ; who, when lie came, said he could cur. me, and 
 took it in hand, and dres&od it. The TndiariS towards night 
 came for me ; I told them 1 could not go with them. They 
 were displeased, called nuj logue, and went away. Tho.t 
 wight I was full of pain ; the French feared diat 1 would die ; 
 five men did watch with me, aiid strove to keen me cheerh 
 iht T was sometimes ready to faint. Oftentimes ihey gave me 
 a little br iruly. The next day the chirurgeon came again, 
 and dresse(i ice ; and so he did all the while I was among the 
 French. I came in at Chiistmas, and went thence May 2d. 
 
 Being thus in the captain's house, I was kept there till 
 Benjamin Waite jame; and now my Indian master, being in 
 want of money, pawned me to the captain for fourteen bea- 
 vers' skinsj or the worth of them, at such a day ; if he did not 
 pay he must lose his pawn, or else sell me for twenty-one bea- 
 vers, but he could not get beaver, and so I was sold. By being 
 thus sold, adds Dr. Mather, he was in Goc's good time set at 
 liberty, and returned to his friends in New iSngland again. 
 
 in 
 
 pull 
 
 awe 
 
 
 ■ s/*^' 
 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 ' OP THE CAPTIVITY AND SUFFERINGS OP MISS SARAH GER- 
 
 ISH, WHO WAS TAKEN AT THE SACKING OF DOVER, IN 
 
 • THE YEAR 1689, BY THE INDIANS; AS COMMUNICATED TO 
 
 ' THE REVEREND DR. COTTON MATHER, BY THE REVEREND 
 
 JOHN PIKE, MINISTER OP DOVER. 
 
 Sarah Gerish, daughter of Capt. John Gerish, of Quo- 
 checho or Cocheco, was a /ery beautiful and ingenious damsel, 
 about seven years of age, and happened to be lodging at the 
 garrison of Major Waldron, her aflfectiona'.e grandfather, when 
 the Indians brought that horrible destDxtion upon it, on the 
 
 * His feet were so badly frozen that he bud not walked for a consiae* 
 reble time.— Ed. 
 
SARAH GERISH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 69 
 
 Quo- 
 imsel, 
 lat the 
 
 Iwhen 
 ^n tho 
 
 snsioe- 
 
 m 
 1 
 
 night of the 27th of June, 1689. She was always very fear- 
 ful of the Indians ; but fear may we think now surprised her, 
 when they fiercely bid her go into a certain chamber and call 
 the people out ! She obeyed, but finding only a liitle child in 
 bed in the room, she got into the bad with it, and hid herself 
 in the clothes as well as she could. The fell savages quickly 
 pulled her out, and made her dress for a march, but led her 
 away with no more than one stocking upon her, on a teMrible 
 march through the thick woods, and a thousand other miseries, 
 till they came to the Norway Planes.* From thence they 
 made her go to the end of Winnipisiogee lake, thence east- 
 ward, through horrid swamps, where sometimes they were 
 obliged to scramble over huge trees fallen by storm or age, for 
 a vast way together, and sometimes they must climb up long, 
 steep, tiresome, and almost inaccessible mountains. 
 
 Her first master was an Indian named Sebundowit, a dull 
 sort of fellow, and not such a devil as many of them were, 
 but he sold her to a fellow who was a more harsh and mad 
 sort of a dragon. He carried her away to Canada. 
 
 A long and sad journey now ensued, through the midst of a 
 hideous desert, in the depth of a dreadful winter^ and who 
 can enumerate the frights she endured before the end of her 
 
 i'ourney ? Once her master commanded her to loosen some of 
 ler upper garments, and stand against a tree while he charged 
 his gun ; whereat the poor child shrieked out, " He is going to 
 kill me !" God knows what he was going to do ; but the villian 
 having charged his gun, he called her from the tree and for- 
 bore doing her any damage. Upon another time her master 
 ordered her to run along the shore with some Indian girls, 
 while he paddled up the river in his canoe. As the girls were 
 passing a precipice, a tawny wench violently pushed her head* 
 long into the river, but so it fell out that in this very place of 
 her fall the bushes from the '^hore hung over the water, so 
 that she was enabled to get hold of them, an((;^hus saved her- 
 self. The Indians asked her how she became so wet, but she 
 did not dare to tell them, from fear of the resentment of her 
 that had so nearly deprived her of life already. And here it 
 may be remarked, that it is almost universally true, that young 
 Indians, both male and female, are as much to be dreaded by 
 captives as those of maturer years, and in many cases mucn 
 more so ; for, unlike cultivated people, they have no restraints 
 upon their mischievous and savage propensities, which they 
 indulge in cruelties surpassing any examples here related. 
 They often vie with each other in attempting excessive acts of 
 torture. 
 
 * These planes are in the present town of Rochester, M. U. — Editor. 
 
 . vB^ 
 
70 
 
 SARAH- GERISH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 iT 
 
 
 '■^{^■■j, 
 -^' 
 
 \ 
 
 Once, being spent with travelling all day, and lying down 
 wet and exhausted at night, she fell into so profound a sleep 
 that in the morning she waked not. Her barbarous captors 
 decamped from the place of their night's rest, leaving this little 
 captive girl asleep and covered with a snow that in the night 
 had fallen ; but, at length awaking, what agonies may you 
 imagine she was in, on finding herself left a prey for bears and 
 wolves, and without any sustenance, in a howling wilderness, 
 many scores of leagues from any plantation ! In this dismal 
 situation, however, she had fortitude sufficient to attempt- to 
 follow them. And here again, the snow which had been her 
 covering upon the cold ground, to her great discomfort, was 
 now her only hope, for she could just discern by it the trace 
 of the Indians ! How long it was before she overtook them 
 is not told us, but she joined them and continued her captivity. 
 
 Now the young Indians began to terrify her by constantly 
 reminding her that -she was shortly to be roasted to death. 
 One evening much fuel was prepared between two logs, which 
 they told her was for her torture. A mighty fire being made, 
 her master called her to him, and told her that she should 
 presently j,ibe burnt alive. At first she stood amazed; then 
 burst into tears ; and then she hung about her tiger oi a master, 
 begging of him, with an inexpressible anguish, to save her 
 from the fire. Hereupon the monijter so far relented as to tell 
 her " that if she would be a good girl she should not be burnt." 
 
 At last they arrived at Canada, and she was carried into 
 the Lord Intendant's house, where many persons of quality 
 took much notice of her. It was a week after this that she 
 remained in the Indian's hands before the price of her ransom 
 could be agreed upon. But then the lady intendant sent her 
 to the nunnery, where she was comfortably provided for ; and 
 it waa.the design, as was said, for to have brought her up in 
 the Romish religion, and then to have married her unto the 
 son of the Lord Intendant. 
 
 She was kindly used there until Sir William Phips, lying 
 before Quebec, .diid, upon exchange of prisoners, obtain her lib- 
 erty. After sixteen months' captivity she was restored unto 
 her friends, who had*the consolation of having this their desir- 
 able daughter again with them, returned as it were from the 
 dead. But this dear child was not to cheer her parents' path 
 for a long period ; for on arriving at her sixteenth year, July, 
 1697, death carried her off" by a malignant fever. 
 
 -.-n •. 
 
 
ELIZABETH HEARD'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 71 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 to tell 
 burnt." 
 ed into 
 quality 
 
 at she 
 liansom 
 lent her 
 ir ; and 
 \r up in 
 
 to the 
 
 [» lying 
 ler lib- 
 
 unto 
 
 desir- 
 
 jm the 
 
 5' path 
 
 July, 
 
 OP THE REMARKABI.E ESf * VPE OP WIDOW ELIZABETH HEARD, 
 ALSO TAKEN AT THE DESTRUCTION OP MAJOR WALDRON'S 
 GARRISON IN DOVER, AS COMMUNICATED TO DOCTOR COT- 
 TON MATHER, BY THE REV. JOHN PIKE, MINISTER OP THE 
 PLACE. 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Heard was a widow of good estate, a mother 
 of many children, and a daughter of Mr. Hull, a reverend 
 minister formerly living at Pascataqua, but at this time lived 
 at Quochecho, the Indian name of Dover. Happening to be 
 at Portsmouth on the day before Quochecho was cut off, she 
 returned thither in the night with one daughter and three sons, 
 all masters of families. When they came near Quochecho 
 they were astonished with a prodigious noise of Indians, howl- 
 ing, shooting, shouting, and roaring, according to their manner 
 in making an assault. 
 
 Their distress for their families carried them still further 
 up the river, till thev secretly and silently passed by some 
 numbers of the ragim^ ^ ages. They landed about an hun- 
 dred rods from Maj^r Waldron's garrison, and running up 
 the hill, they saw many lights in the windows of the garrison, 
 which they concluded the English within had set up for the 
 direction of those who might seek a refuge there. Coming 
 to the gatf they desired entrance, which not being readily 
 granted, they called earnestly, bounced, knocked, and cried 
 out to those within of their unkindness, that they would not 
 open the gate to them in this extremity. 
 
 No answer being yet made, they began to doubt whether all 
 was weli. One of the young men then climbing up the wall, 
 saw a horrible tawny in the entry, with a gun in his hand. A 
 grievous consternation seized now upon them, and Mrs. Heard, 
 sitting down without the gate, through despair and faintnesp, 
 was unable to stir any further; but had strength only to 
 charge her children to shift for themselves, which she did in 
 broken accents ; adding also that she must unavoidably there 
 end her days. m. 
 
 Her children, finding it impossible to carry her with them, 
 with heavy hearts forsook her. Immediately after, however, 
 she beginning to recover from her fright, was able to fly, and 
 hide herself in a bunch of barberry bushes, in the garden ; and 
 
 .-.*'" 
 
 "*k. .^.. 
 
 ■■#v 
 
 I f*-ilnr.ir»tf- liiinv. niervs 
 

 79 
 
 ELIZABETH HEARD'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 then hastening from thence, hecauso the daylight advanced, 
 she sheltered herself, though seen by two of the Indians, in a 
 thicket of other bushes, about thirty rods from the house. 
 She had not been long here before an Indian came towards 
 her, with a pistol in his hand. The fellow came up to her 
 and stared her in the face, but said nothing to her, nor she to 
 him. He went a little way back, and came again, and stared 
 upon her as before, but said nothing ; whereupon she abked 
 him what he would have. He still said nothing, but went 
 away to the house, whooping, and returned unto her no more. 
 Being thus unaccountably preserved, she made several 
 essays to pass the river, but found herself unable to do it, and 
 finding all places on that side of the river filled with blood 
 and fire, and hideous outcries, she thereupon returned to her 
 old bush, and there poured out her ardent prayers to God for 
 
 ^ help in this distress. 
 *>. She continued in this bush until the garrison was burnt, 
 
 ^ and the enemy had gone, and then she stole along by the river 
 side, until she came to a boom, on which she passed over. 
 Many sad effects of cruelty she saw left by the Indians in her 
 way. She soon after safely arrived at Captain Gerish's gar- 
 rison, where she found a refuge from the storm. Here she 
 also had the satisfaction to understand that her own garrison, 
 though one of the first that was assaulted, had been bravely 
 defended, and successfully maintained against the adversary. 
 
 This gentlewoman's garrison was on the most extreme fron- 
 tier of the province, and more obnoxious than any other, and 
 therefore more incapable of being relieved. Nevertheless, by 
 her presence and courage, it held out all the war, even for ten 
 years together ; and the persons in it have enjoyed very emi- 
 nent preservations. It would have been deserted, if she had 
 accepted offers that were made her by her friends, to abandon 
 it, and retire to Portsmouth among them, which would have 
 been a damage to the town and land; but by her encourage- 
 ment this post was thus kept up, and she is yet [1702] living 
 in much esteem among her neighbors. 
 
 Note 1. — Mrs. Heard was the widow of a Mr. John Heard. She had 
 five sons, Benjamin, John, Joseph, Samuel and Tristram, and an equal 
 number of daughters. The last-named son was waylaid and killed by 
 the Indians in the year 1723. — MS. Chronicles of the Indians. 
 
 Note 2. — It will doubtless seem surprising to the reader that Mrs. Heard 
 should be suffered to escape captivity, when she was discovered by a 
 grim warrior, who, without doubt, was seeking for some white inhab- 
 itant, on whom to wrt vk his vengeance. The facts seem to be these : 
 Thirteen years before, namely, in 1676, when the four hundred Indians 
 were surprised in Dover, (in a manner not at all doubtful as it respects 
 
CAPTIVITY OF JOHN GYLES. 
 
 73 
 
 the character of their captors,) this same Mrs. Heard secreted a yonng 
 Indian in her house, by which means he escaped that calamitous day. 
 The reader of Indian history will not, now, I presume, harbor surprise 
 at the conduct of the, warrior. For the particulars of the event con- 
 nected with this narrative, see The Book of the Indians, Book iii. 
 Chap, viii — Ed. 
 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OP ODD ADVENTURES, STRANGE DELIVERANCES, ETC., IN THE 
 CAPTIVITY OP JOHN GYLES, ESQ., COMMANDER OF THE 
 GARRISON ON ST. GEORGE RIVER, IN THE DISTRICT OP 
 MAINE. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED 
 AT BOSTON, 1736. 
 
 Introduction. — These private memoirs were collected from 
 my minutes, at the earnest request of my second consort, for 
 the use of our family, that we might have a memento ever 
 ready at hand, to excite in ourselves gratitude and thankfulness 
 to God ; and in our offspring a due sense of their dependence 
 on the Sovereign of the universe, from the precariousness and 
 vicissitudes of all sublunary enjoyments. In this state, and for 
 this end, they have laid by me for some years. They at length 
 falling into the hands of some, for whose judgment I had a 
 value, I was pressed for a copy for the public. Others, desir- 
 ing of me to extract particulars from them, which the multi- 
 plicity and urgency of my affairs would not admit, I have now 
 determined to suffer their publication. I have not made scarce 
 any addition to this manual, except in the chapter of creatureSt 
 which I was urged to make much larger. I might have great- 
 ly enlarged it, but I feared it would grow beyond its proportion. 
 I have been likewise advised to give a particular account of 
 my father, which I am not very fond of, having no dependence 
 on the virtues or honors of my ancestors to recommend me to 
 the favor of God or men ; nevertheless, because some think it 
 is a respect due to the memory of my parents, whose name I 
 was obliged to mention in the following story, and a satisfaction 
 which their posterity might justly expect from me, I shall give 
 some account of him, though as brief as possible. 
 
 The flourishing state of New England, before the unhappy 
 
 eastern wars, drew my father hither, whose first settlement was 
 
 on Kennebeck river, at a place called Merrymeeting Bay, where 
 
 he dwelt for some years ; until, on the death of my grand pa- 
 
 7 
 
 
 .1 
 

 Vt CAPTIVITY OF JOHN GYLES. 
 
 rents, he, with his family, returned to England, to settle hh 
 affairs. This done, he cnme over with the design to have re- 
 turned to his farm ; but on his arrival at Boston, the eastern 
 Indians had begun their hostilities. He tiierefore begun a 
 settlement on Long Island. The air of that place not so well 
 agreeing with his constitution, and the Indians having become 
 peaceable, he again proposed to resettle his lands in Merrymeet- 
 ing Bay ; but finding that place deserted, and that plantations 
 were going on at Pemmaquid, he purchased several tracts of 
 land of the inhabitants there. Upon his highness the duke of 
 York resuming a claim to those parts, my father took out patents 
 under that claim ; and when Pemmaquid was set off by the 
 name of the county of Cornwall, in the province of New York, 
 he was commissioned chief justice of the same by Gov. Duncan 
 [Dongan.] * He was a strict Sabbatarian, and met with con- 
 siderable difficulty in the discharge of his office, from the 
 immoralities of a people who had long lived lawless. He laid 
 out no inconsiderable income, which he had annually from 
 England, on the place, and at last lost his life there, as will 
 hereafter be related. 
 
 I am not insensible of the truth of an assertion of Sir Roger 
 L'Estrange, that " Books and dishes have this common fate : 
 no one of either ever pleased all tastes." And I am fully of 
 his opinion in this:," It is as little to be wished for as ex- 
 pected; for a universal applause is, at least, two thirds of a 
 scandal." To conclude with Sir Roger, " Though I made this 
 composition principally for my family, yet, if any man has a 
 mind to take part with me, he has free leave, and is welcome ;" 
 but let him carry this consideration along with him, " that he 
 is a very unmannerly guest who forces himself upon another 
 man's table, and then quarrels with his dinner." 
 
 Chapter I. — Containing the occurrences of the first year. 
 On the second day of August, 1689, ir the morning, my hon- 
 ored father, Thomas Gyles, Esq., weni with some laborers, my 
 two elder brothers and myself, to one of his farms, which laid 
 upon the river about three miles above fort Charles,t adjoining 
 Pemmaquid falls, there to gather in his English harvest, and 
 we labored securely till noon. After we had dined, our people 
 
 • He had been appointed governor of New York 30 Sept. 1682. — Ed. 
 
 j Fort Charles stood on the spot where fort Frederick was, not long 
 since, founded by Colonel Dunbar. The township adjoining thereto was 
 called Jamestown, in honor to the duke of York. In this town, within a 
 quarter of a mile of the fort, was my father's dwelling-house, from which 
 he went out that unhappy morning. J 
 
 went 
 othei 
 est 
 
 m: 
 
< 
 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF JOHN GYLES. 
 
 r« 
 
 went to their labor, some in one field to their English hay, the 
 others to another field of English corn. My father, the young- 
 est of my two brothers, and myself, tarried near the farm-house 
 in which we had dined till about one of the clock; at which 
 time we heard the report of several great guns at the fort. 
 Upon which my father said he hoped it was a signal of good 
 news, and that the great council had sent back the soldiers, to 
 cover the inhabitants ; (for on report of the revolution they had 
 deserted.) But to our great surprise, about thirty or forty In- 
 dians,'*^ at that moment, discharged a volley of shot at us, from 
 behind a rising ground, near our barn. The yelling of the 
 Indians.t the whistling of their shot, and the voice of my father, 
 whom I \ eard cry out, *• What now ! what now ! " so terrified 
 me, (though he seemed to be handling a gun,) that I endeavor- 
 ed to make my escape. My brother ran one way and I another, 
 and looking over my shoulder, I saw a slout fellow, painted, 
 pursuing me with a gun, and a cutlass glittering in his hand, 
 which I expected every moment in my brains. I soon fell 
 down, and the Indian seized me by the left hand. He offered 
 me no abuse, but tied my arms, then lifted me up, and pointed 
 to the place where the people were at work about the hay, and 
 led me that way. As we went, we crossed where my father 
 was, who looked very pale and bloody, and walked very slowly. 
 When we came to the place, I saw two men shot dowii on the 
 flats, and one or two more knocked on their heads with hatch- 
 ets, crying out, <* O Lord," &c. There the Indians brought 
 two captives, one a man, and my brother James, who, with me; 
 had endeavored to escape by running from the house, when we 
 were first attacked. This brother was about fourteen years of 
 age. My oldest brother, whose name was Thomas, wonder- 
 fully escaped by land to the Barbican, a point of land on the 
 west side of the river, opposite the fort, where several fishing 
 vessels lay. He got on board one of them and sailed that 
 night. ■''' x4\: 
 
 After doing what mischief they could, they sat down, and 
 made us sit with them. After some time we arose, and the 
 Indians pointed for us to go eastward. We marched about a 
 quarter of a mile, and then made a halt. Here they brought 
 my father to us. They made proposals to him, by old Moxus, 
 who told him that those were strange Indians who shot him, 
 
 • The whole company of Indians, according to Charlevoix, was one 
 hundred. — Ed. 
 
 fThe Indians have a custom of uttering a most horrid howl when they 
 discharge guns, designing thereby to terrify those whom they fight 
 against. 
 
 1 1 
 
"^v 
 
 % *% 
 
 76 
 
 CAPTIVITy OF JOHN GYLES. 
 
 and that he was sorry for it. My father repljed th^t he was 
 a dying man, and wanted no favor of them, bql, t^pos^y with 
 his children. This being granted him, he reco M iUl n dea us to 
 the protection and blessing of God Almighty ; then gave ua 
 the best advice, and took his leave for this life, hoping in God 
 that we should meet in a better. He parted with a cheerful 
 voice, but looked very pale, by reason of his great loss of blood; 
 which now gushed out of his shoes. The Indians led him 
 aside ! — I heard the blows of the hatchet, but neither shriek 
 nor groan ! I afterwards heard that he had five or seven shot- 
 holes through his waistcoat or jacket, and that he was covered 
 with some boughs. 
 
 The Indians led us, their captives, on the east side of the 
 river, towards the fort, and when we came within a mile and 
 a half of the fort and town, and could see the fort, we saw 
 firing and smoke on all sides. Here we made a short stop, 
 and then moved within or near the distance of three quarters 
 of a mile from the fort, into a thick swamp. There I saw my 
 mother and my two little sisters, and many other captives who 
 were taken from the town. My mother asked me about my 
 father. I told her he was killed, but Qould say no more for 
 grief. She burst into tears, and the Indians moved me a little 
 farther off, and seized me with cords to a tree. 
 
 The Indians came to New Harbor, and sent spies several 
 days to observe how and where the people were employed, 
 &c., who found the men were generally at work at noon^ and 
 left abc U their houses only women and children. Therefore 
 the Inc <ins divided themselves into several parties, some am- 
 bushing the way between the fort and the houses, as likewise 
 between them and the distant fields ; and then alarming the 
 farthest • off first, they killed and took the people, as they 
 moved towards the town and fort, at their pleasure, and very 
 few escaped to it. Mr. Pateshall was taken and killed, as he 
 lay with his sloop near the Barbican. 
 
 On the first stir about the fort, my youngest brother was at 
 play near it, and running in, was by God's goodness thus pre- 
 served. Captain Weems, with great courage and resolution, 
 defended the weak old fort*= two days ; when, being much 
 wounded, and the best of his men killed, he beat for a parley, 
 which eventuated in these conditions : 
 
 1. That they, the Indians, should give him Mr. Pateshall's 
 sloop. 2. That they should not molest him in carrying off the 
 
 * I presume Charlevoix was misinformed about the strength of this place. 
 He says, " lis [the English] y avoient fait un fort bel etablissement, de- 
 f6ndu par un fort, qui n'etoit d la veritd que de pieux, mais assez regulierC' 
 ment construit, avec vmgt canons month." 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 77 
 
 few people that had got into the fort, and three captives that 
 they had,taken. 3. That the English should carry off in their 
 hands what they could from the fort. 
 
 On these conditions the fort was surrendered, and Captain 
 Weems went off; and soon after, the Indians set on fire the 
 fort iand houses, v/hich made a terrible blast, and was a melan- 
 choly sight to us poor captives, who were sad spectators ! 
 
 After the Indians had thus laid waste Pemmaquid, they 
 moved us to New Harbor, about two miles east of Pemmaquid, 
 a cove much frequented by fishermen. At this place, there 
 were, before the war, about twelve houses. These the inhab- 
 itants deserted as soon as the rumor of v/ar reached the place. 
 When we turned our backs on the town, my heart Avas ready 
 to break ! I saw my mother. She spoke to me, but I could 
 not answer her. That night we tarried at New Harbor, and 
 the next day went in their canoes for Penobscot. About 
 noon, the canoe in which my mother was, and that in which I 
 was, came side by side ; whether accidentally or by my 
 mother's desire I cannot say. She asked me how I did. 1 
 think I said " pretty well," but my heart was so full of grief I 
 scarcely knew whether audible to her. Then she said, " O, 
 my child ! how joyful and pleasant it would be, if we were 
 going to old England, to see your uncle Chalker, and other 
 friends there ! Poor babe, we are going into the wilderness, 
 the Lord knows Avhere !" Then bursting into tears, the canoes 
 
 {>arted. That night following, the Indians with their captives 
 odged on an island. 
 
 A few days after, we arrived at Penobscot fort, where I 
 again saw my mother, my brother and sisters, and many other 
 captives. I think we tarried here eight days. In that time, 
 the Jesuit of the place had a great mind to buy me. My 
 Indian master made a visit to the Jesuit, and carried me with 
 him. And here I will note, that the Indian who takes a cap- 
 tive is accounted his master, and has a perfect right to him, 
 until he gives or sells him to another. I saw the Jesuit show 
 my master pieces of gold, and understood afterwards that he 
 was tendering them for my ransom. He gave me a biscuit, 
 which I put into my pocket, and not daring to eat it, buried it 
 under a log, fearing he had put something into it to make me 
 love him. Being very young, and having heard much of the 
 Papists torturing the Protestants, caused me to act thus ; and 
 I hated the sight of a Jesuit.* When my mother heard the 
 
 * It is not to be wondered at that antipathy should be so plainly 
 
 exhibited at this time, considering what had been going on in En^Jand up 
 
 to the latest dates; but that children should have been taught, thac 
 
 Catholics had the power of winning over heretics by any mysterious pow- 
 
 7# 
 
 i 
 
'10 
 
 78 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 .IV 
 
 V 
 
 talk of my being* sold to a Jesuit, she said to me, " Oh, my 
 dear child, if it were God's will, I had rather follow you to 
 your grave, or never see you more in this world, than you 
 should be sold to a Jesuit ; for a Jesuit Avill ruin you, body and 
 soul !"=^ It pleased God to grant her request, for she never 
 saw me more ! Yet she and my two little sisters were, after 
 several years' captivity, redeemed, but she died before I returned. 
 My brother who was taken with me, was, after several years' 
 captivity, most barbarously tortured to death by the Indians. 
 
 My Indian master carried me up Penobscot river, to a vil- 
 lage called Madawamkee, which stands on a point of land 
 between the main river and a branch which heads to the 
 east of it. At home I had ever seen strangers treated with 
 the utmost civility, and being a stranger, I expected some kind 
 treatment here ; but I soon found myself deceived, for I pres- 
 ently saw a number of squaws, who had got together in a 
 circle, dancing and yelling. An old grim-looking one took 
 me by the hand, and leading me into the ring, some seized 
 me by my hair, and others by my hands and feet, like so many 
 furies ; but my master presently laying down a pledge, they 
 released me. 
 
 A captive among the Indians is exposed to all manner of 
 abuses, and to the extremes! tortures, unless their master, or 
 some of their master's relations, lay down a ransom ; such as 
 a bag of corn, a blanket, or the like, which redeems them from 
 their cruelty for that dance. The next day we went up that 
 eastern branch of Penobscot river many leagues ; carried 
 over land to a large pond, and from one pond to another, till, 
 in a few days, we went down a river, called Medocktack, 
 which vents itself into St. John's river. But before we came 
 to the mouth of this river, we passed over a long carrying 
 place, to Medocktack fort, which stands on a bank of St. 
 
 ders, or other arts, furnished them by his satanic majesty, is a matter, to 
 say the least, of no little admiration. — Ed. 
 
 * It may not be improper to hear how the Jesuits themselves viewed 
 these mntters. The settlement here was, according to the French account, 
 in their dominions, and the English settlers "incommoded extremely from 
 thence all the Indians in the adjacent country, who were the avowed friends 
 of the French, and caused the government of Acadia no less inquietude, 
 who feared with reason the effect of their intrigues in detaching the Indians 
 from their alliance. The Indians, who undertook to break up the post 
 at Pemmaquid, were Penobscots, among whom a Jesuit, named M. Thury, 
 a good laborer in the faith, had a numerous mission. The first atten- 
 tion before setting out of these b'-ave Christians was to secure aid of the 
 God of battles, by confessions and the sacrament ; and they took care 
 that their wives and children performed the same rites, and raised their 
 pure hands to heaven, while their fathers and mothers went out to battle 
 against the heretics." See Charlevoix. — Ed. 
 
JOHN GYLDS' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 79 
 
 John's river. My master went before, and left me with an 
 old Indian, and two or three squaws. The old man often said, 
 (which was all the English he could speak,) "By and by come 
 to a g eat town and fort." I now comforted myself in think- 
 ing how finely I should be refreshed when I came to this great 
 town. 
 
 After some miles' travel we came in sight of a large corn- 
 field, and soon after of the fort, to my great surprise. Two 
 or three squaws met us, took off my pack, and led me to a 
 large hut or wigwam, where thirty or forty Indians were dan- 
 cing and yelling round five or six poor captives, who had been 
 taken some months before from Quochech, at the time Major 
 Waldron was so barbarously butchered by them. And before 
 proceeding with my narrative I will give a short account of 
 that action. 
 
 Major Waldron 's garrison was taken on the night of the 
 27th of June, 1689.* I have heard the Indians say at a feast 
 that as there was a truce for some days, they contrived to send 
 in two squaws to take notice of the numbers, lodgings and 
 other circumstances of the people in his garrison, and if they ■ 
 could obtain leave to lodge there, to open the gates and whistle. 
 (They said the gates had no locks, but were fastened with 
 pins, and that they kept no watch.) The squaws had a favor- 
 able season to prosecute their projection, for it was dull 
 weather when they came to beg leave to lodge in the garrison. 
 They told the major that a great number of Indiarx were not 
 far from thence, with a considerable quantity of b: /er, who 
 would be there to trade with him the next day. Some of the 
 people were very much against their lodging in the garrison, 
 but the major said, " Let the poor creatures lodge by the fire." 
 The squaws went into every apartment, arj i observing the 
 numbers in each, when all the people were asleep, arose and 
 opened the gates, gave the signal, and the other Indians came 
 to them ; and having received an account of the state of tho 
 garrison, they divided according to the number of people in 
 each apartment, and soon took and killed them all. The 
 major lodged within an inner room, and when the Indians 
 broke in upon him, he cried out, " What now ! what now I" 
 and jumping out of bed with only his shirt on, seized his sword 
 and drove them before him through two or three doors ; but for 
 
 * The date stands in the old narrative, " in the beginning of April on 
 the night after a Sabbath," which being an error, I have corrected it. 
 What time in the night of the 27th the place was attacked, is not mentioned, 
 bat the accounts of it are chiefly dated the day following, viz. the 28th, 
 •when the tragedy was finished. The squaws had taken up their lodging 
 there on the night of the 27th, and if the attack begun before midnight, 
 which it probably did, the date in the text is the true one. — Ed. 
 
 ■'^'r. 
 
 
80 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 some reason, turning about towards the apartment he had just 
 left, ai. Indian came up behind him, kncicked him on the head 
 with h's hatchet, which stunned him, and he fell. They now 
 seized upon him, dragged him out, and setting him upon a 
 long table in his hall, bid him "judge Indians again." Then 
 they cut and stabbed him, and he cried out, " O, Lord ! O, 
 Lord !" They bid him order hii book of accounts to be 
 broUjrht, and to cross out all the Indians' debts,''*' (he havir g 
 traded much with them.) After they had tortured him to 
 death, they burned the garrison and drew off. This narration 
 1 ha"! fro/n their own mouths, at a general meeting, and have 
 rea&^n to think it true.t But to return to my narrative. 
 
 I was whirled in among this circle of Indians, and we pris- 
 oners fooiiod on each other with a sorrowful countenance. 
 Presently ove of them was seized by each hand and foot, by 
 four Indians, who, swinging him up, let his back fall on the 
 ground wilb full force. This they repeated, till they had 
 danced, as \l ey called it, round the whole wigwam, which was 
 thirty or fei ly feet in length. But when they torture a boy 
 "they take In n up between two. This is one of their customs 
 of torturing raptives. Another is to take up a ^arson by the 
 middle, with his head downwards, and jolt him round till one 
 would think His bowels would shake out of his mouth. Some- 
 times they \ .'ill take a captive by the hair of the head, and 
 stooping him forward, strike him on the back and shoulder, 
 till the blood gushes out of his mouth and nose. Sometimes 
 an old shrivelled squaw will take up a shovel of hot embers 
 and throw tliem into a captive's bosom. If he cry out, the 
 Indians v.'ill laugh and shout, and say, " What a brave action 
 our old grandmother has done." Sometimes they torture them 
 with whips, &c. 
 
 The Indians looked on me with a fierce countenance, as- 
 much as to say, it will be your turn next. They champed 
 cornstalks, which they threw into my hat, as I held it in my 
 hand. I smiled on them, though my heart ached. I looked 
 on one, and another, but could not perceive that any eye pitied 
 me. Presently came a squaw and a little girl, and laid down 
 a bag of corn in the ring. The little girl took me by the hand, 
 making signs for me to go out of the circle with them. Not 
 knowing their custom, I supposed they designed to kill me, 
 
 by 
 self 
 
 * "WTien they gashed his naked breast, they said in derision, " I cross 
 out my account." — Ed. 
 
 f In a previous note, to another narrative, I have referied the reader to 
 my large work, (Thk Book of the Indians,) where all the circumstances 
 cf this shocking afTair are detailed. — Ed. 
 
. <- 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY 
 
 81 
 
 ce, as* 
 
 imped 
 
 jn my 
 
 looked 
 
 pitied 
 
 down 
 
 hand, 
 
 Not 
 
 111 me, 
 
 I J cross 
 
 idcrto 
 Stances 
 
 and refused to go. Then a grave Indian came and gave me a 
 short pipe, and said in English, " Smoke it ;" then he took me 
 by the hand and led me out. My heart ached, thinking my- 
 self near my end; But he carried me to a French hut, about 
 a mile from the Indian fort. The Frenchman was not at 
 home, but his wife, who was a squaw, had some discourse with 
 my Indian friend, which I did not understand. We tarried 
 about two hours, then returned to the Indian village, where 
 they gave me some victuals. Not long after this I saw one of 
 my fellow-captives, who gave me a melancholy account of 
 their sufferings after I left them. 
 
 After some weeks had passed, we left this village and went 
 up St. John's river about ten miles, to a branch called Medock- 
 scenecasis, where there was one wigwam. At our arrival an 
 old squaw saluted me with a yell, taking me by the hair and 
 one hand, but I was so rude as to break her hold and free 
 myself. She gave me a filthy grin, and ^lie Indians set up a 
 laugh, and so it passed over. Here we lived upon fish, wild 
 grapes, roots, &c., which was hard living to me. 
 
 When the winter came on we went up the river, till the 
 ice came down, running thick in the river, when, according 
 to the Indian custom, we laid up our canoes till spring. Then 
 we travelled sometimes on the ice, and sometimes on the land, 
 till we came to a river that was open, but not fordable, where 
 we made a raft, and passed over, bag and baggage. I met 
 with no abuse from them in this winter's hunting, though I was 
 put to great hardships in carrying burdens and for want of food. 
 But they underwent the same difficulty, and would often 
 encourage me, saying, in broken English, "By and by great 
 deal moosey Yet they could not answer any question I asked 
 them. And knowing little of their customs and way of life, I 
 thought it tedious to be constantly moving from place to place, 
 though it might be in some respects an advantage ; for it ran 
 still in my mind that we were travelling to some settlement ; 
 and when my burden was over-heavy, and the Indians left 
 me behind, and the still evening coming on, I fancied I could 
 see through the bushes, and hear the people of some great 
 town ; which hope, though some support to me in the day, 
 yet I found not the town at night. 
 
 Thus we were hunting three hundred miles* from the sea, 
 and knew no man within fifty or sixty miles of us. We were 
 eight or ten in number, and had but two guns, on which we 
 
 *A pardonable error, perhaps, considering the author's ignorance of the 
 geography of the country. He could hardly have got three hundred 
 miles from the mouth of the Penobscot, in a northerly direction, without 
 crossing the St. Lawrence. — Ed. 
 
81 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 wholly depended for food. If any disaster had happened, we 
 must all have perished. Sometimes we had no manner of sus- 
 tenance for three or four days ; but God wonderfully provides 
 for all creatures. In one of these fasts, God's providence 
 was remarkable. Our two Indian men, who had guns, in 
 hunting started a moose, but there being a shallow crusted 
 snow on the ground, and the moose discovering them, ran with 
 great force into a swamp. The Indians went round the swamp, 
 and finding no track, returned at night to the wigwam, and 
 told what had happened. The next morning they followed 
 him on the track, and soon found him lying on the snow. He 
 had, in crossing the roots of a large tree, that had been blown 
 down, broken through the ice made over the ^vater in the hole 
 occasioned by the roots of the tree taking up the ground, and 
 hitched one of his hind legs among the roots, so fast, that by 
 striving to get it out he pulled his thigh bone out of its socket 
 at the hip ; and thus extraordinarily were we provided for in 
 our great strait. Sometimes they would take a bear, which 
 go into dens in the fall of the year, without any sort of 
 food, and lie there four or five months without food, never 
 going out till spring ; in which time they neither lose nor 
 gain in fliesh. If they went into their dens fat they came out 
 so, and if they went in lean they came out lean. I have seen 
 some which have come out with four whelps, and both very 
 fat, and then we feasted. An old squaw and a captive, if any 
 present, must stand without the wigwam, shaking their hands 
 and bodies as in a dance and singing, " Wegage oh Tf elo 
 woH," which in English is, " Fat is my eating." This is to 
 signify their thankfulness in feasting times. When one supply 
 was spent we fasted till further success. 
 
 The way they preserve meat is by taking the flesh from the 
 bones and drying it in smoke, by which it is kept sound 
 months or years withoiit salt. We moved still further up 
 the country after moose wb?n our store was out, so that by 
 the spring we had go; to the northward of the Lady moun- 
 tains.'**' When the spring came and :ne rivers broke up, we 
 moved bav*k to the head of St. John's river, and there made 
 canoes of moose hides, sewing three or four together pnd 
 pitching the seams Avith Lalsam mixed with charcoal. Then 
 we went down the river to a place called Madawescook.l There 
 an old man lived and kept a sort of trading house, where 
 
 * If these are the same the French called Monts Notre Dame, our cap- 
 tive was now on the borders of the St. Lawrence, to the north of the head 
 of the bay of Chaleurs. — Ed. 
 
 t Probably the now well-known Madawasca, of " disputed territory'' 
 memory. 
 
 we t£ 
 we CI 
 peag, I 
 off 01 
 down I 
 dians 
 At leil 
 canoes 
 down 
 
 The! 
 
 and to I 
 
 After 
 
 return( 
 
 tance fl 
 
 other f 
 
 corn wj 
 
 as it ri] 
 
 in larg 
 
 then sh 
 
 in the s 
 
 than a } 
 
 it swells 
 
 sweeter 
 
 and drie 
 
 Indian b 
 
 ered wit] 
 
 the river 
 
 fully fav 
 
 captivity 
 
 Chapt 
 several a 
 number ( 
 taken, or 
 a dance, 
 their hai 
 me, aftei 
 Englishn 
 retaken 1 
 Penobsco 
 fire, for s 
 and they 
 death at 
 that they 
 ihey dive 
 On the 
 
lap- 
 lead 
 
 Iry' 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 we tarried several days ; then went farther down the river till 
 we came to the greatest falls in these parti, called Checaneke- 
 peag, where we carried a little way over the land, and putting 
 off our canoes we" went down-stream still. And as we passed 
 down by the mouths of any large branches, we saw In- 
 dians ; but when any dance was proposed, I was bought off. 
 At length we arrived at the place where we left our birch 
 canoes in the fall, and putting our baggage into them, went 
 down to the fort. 
 
 There we planted corn, and after planting went a fishing, 
 and to look for and dig roots, till the corn was fit to weed. 
 After weeding we took a second tour on the same errand, then 
 returned to hill our corn. After hilling we went some dis* 
 tance from the fort and field, up the river, to take salmon and 
 other fish, whicJr we dried for food, where we continued till 
 corn was filled with milk ; some of it we dried then, the other 
 as it ripened. To dry corn whei. in the milk, they gather it 
 in large kettles and boil it on the ears, till it is pretty hard, 
 then shell ii from the cob with clam-shells, and dry it on bark 
 in the sun. When it is thoroughly dry, a kernel is no bigger 
 than a pea, and would keep years, and when it is boiled again 
 it swells as large as when on the ear, and tastes incomparably 
 sweeter than other corn. When we had gathered our com 
 and dried it in the way already described, we put some into 
 Indian barns, that is, into holes in the ground, lined and cov* 
 ered with bark, and then with dirt. The rest we carried up 
 the river upon our next winter's hunting. Thus God wonder* 
 fully favored me, and carried me through the first year of my 
 captivity. 
 
 Chapter II. — Of the abusive and barbarous treatment which 
 several captives met with from the Indians. When any gi*eat 
 number of Indians met, or when any captives had been lately 
 taken, or when any captives desert and are retaken, they have 
 a dance, and torture the unhappy people who have fallen into 
 their hands. My unfortunate brother, who was taken with 
 me, after about three years' captivity, deserted with another 
 Englishman, who had been taken from Casco Bay, and was 
 retaken by the Indians at New Harbor, and carried back to 
 Penobscot fort. Here they were both tortured at a stake by 
 fire, for some time ; then their noses and ears were cut off, 
 and they made to cat them. After this they were burnt to 
 death at the stake ; the Indians at the same time declaring 
 that they would serve all deserters in the same manner. Thus 
 they divert themselves in their dances. t 
 
 On the second spring of my captivity, D\y Indian master and'" 
 
 ! t'i 
 
 r 'I 
 
84 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 M^ 
 
 his squaw went to Canada, but sent me down the river with 
 several Indians to the fort, to plant corn. The day before we 
 came to the planting ground, we met two young Indian men, 
 who seemed to be in great haste. After they had passed us, 
 I understood they were going with an express to Canada, and 
 that there was an English vessel at the mouth of the river. I 
 not being perfect in their language, nor knowing that English 
 vessels traded with them in time of war, supposed a peace was 
 concluded on, and that the captives would be released ; I was 
 so transported with this fancy, that I slept but little if any that 
 night. Early the next ^.lorning we came to the village, where 
 my ecstacy ended ; for I had no sooner landed, but three or 
 four Indians dragged me to the great wigwam, where they 
 were yelling and dancing round James Alexander, a Jersey 
 man, who was taken from Falmouth, in Casco Bay. This 
 was occasioned by two families of Cape Sable Indians, who, 
 having lost some friends by a number 'of English fishermen, 
 came some hundreds of miles to revenge themselves on poor 
 captives. They soon came to me, and tossed me about till 1 
 was almost breathless, and then threw me into the ring to my 
 fellow-captive ; and taking him out, repeated their barbarities 
 on him. Then I was hauled out again by three Indians, who 
 seized me by the hair of the head ; and bending me down by 
 my hair, one beat me on the back and shoulders so long that 
 my breath was almost beat out of my body. Then others put 
 a tomhake* [tomahawk] into my hands, and ordered me to get 
 up and sing and dance Indian, which I performed with the 
 greatest reluctance, and while in the act, seemed determined 
 to purchase hiy death, by killing two or three of those monsters 
 of cruelty, thinking it iuipossible to survive their bloody treat- 
 ment ; but it was impressed on my mind that it was not in 
 their power to take away my life, so I desisted. 
 
 Then those Cape Sable Indians came to me again like bears 
 bereaved of tlieir whelp.^, saying, " Shall we, who have lost 
 relations by the English, suffer an English voice to be heard 
 among us ? " &c. Then they beat me again with the axe. 
 
 * The tomhake is a warlike club, the shape of which may be seen in cuts 
 of Etowohkoam, one of the four Indian chiefs, which cuts are common 
 amongst us. [Mr. Gyles refers to the four Iroquois chiefs, who visited 
 England in the reign of Queen Anne. About those chiefs I have collect- 
 ed and published the particulars in the Book of the Indians. And I will 
 here remark that the compilers of the ponderous Indian Biography and 
 History, now in course of publication, under the names of James Hall 
 and T. L. M'Kenny, have borrowed my labors with no sparing hand — they 
 have not even owned it ; having no faith, probably, that by so doing they 
 mijfht pay half the debt. "He who steals my purse steals trash," but he 
 who robs me of my labors — Ed.] 
 
 Nov 
 of t 
 than 
 otho 
 pelie 
 to d( 
 that 
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 them 
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 thoug 
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 for th 
 severe 
 a capt 
 Aft( 
 us up i 
 on our 
 days, 
 dance, 
 leather 
 got Jar 
 master 
 hide, ar 
 for ther 
 master 
 to excite 
 in the i 
 whoopin 
 me, and 
 I was n( 
 had reso 
 had good 
 till aboui 
 calling, 
 After the 
 they told 
 them say, 
 had frighi 
 out, and t 
 had a bad 
 away into 
 Mohawks, 
 count of h 
 Mohawks 
 of the incii 
 
with 
 
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 men, 
 
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 I was 
 
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 Vavfiy ''"'^ 
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 Ind— they 
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 v> but he 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 85 
 
 Now I repented that I had not sent two or three of them out 
 of the world before me, for I thought I had much rather die 
 than suffer any longer. They left me the second time, and the 
 other Indians put the tomhake into my hands again, and com- 
 pelled me to sing. Then I seemed more resolute than before 
 to destroy some of them ; but a strange and strong impulse 
 that I should return to my own place and people suppressed 
 it, as often as such a motion rose in my breast. Not one of 
 them showed the least compassion, but I saw the tears run 
 down plentifully on the cheeks of a Frenchman who sat behind, 
 though it did not alleviate the tortures that poor James and I 
 were forced to endure for the most part of this tedious day ; 
 for they were continued till the evening, and were the most 
 severe that ever I met with in the whole six years that I was 
 a captive with the Indians. 
 
 After thsy had thus inhumanly abused us, two Indians took 
 us up and threw us out of the wigwam, and we crawled away 
 on our hands and feet, and were scarce able to walk for several 
 days. Some time after they again concluded on a merry 
 dance, when I was at some distance from the wigwam dressing 
 leather, and an Indian was so kind as to tell me that they had 
 got James Alexander, and were in search for me. My Indian 
 master and his squaw bid me run for my life into a swamp and 
 hide, and not to discover myself unless they both came to me ; 
 for then I might be assured the dance was over. I was now 
 master of their language, and. a word or a wink was enough 
 to excite me to take care of one. I ran to the swamp, and hid 
 in the thickest place I could find. I heard hallooing and 
 whooping all around me ; sometimes some passed very near 
 me, and I could hear some threaten and others flatter me, but 
 I was not disposed to dance. If they had come upon me, I 
 had resolved to show them a pair of heels, and they must have 
 had good lack to have catched me. I heard no more of them 
 till about evening, for I think I slept, when they came again, 
 calling, " Chon ! Chon ! " but John would not trust them. 
 After they were gone, my master and his squaw came where 
 they told me to hide, but could not find me ; and, when I heard 
 them say, with some concern, they believed the other Indians 
 had frightened me into the woods, and that I was lost, I came 
 out, and they seemed well pleased. They told me James had 
 had a bad day of it ; that as soon as he was released he ra^« 
 away into the woods, and they believed he was gone to tklBif 
 Mohawks. James soon returned, and gave a melancholy &€!<•' 
 count of his sufferings, and the Indians's fright concerning the 
 Mohawks passed over. They often had terrible apprehension*' 
 of the incursions of those Indians. They are called alsoMet^ 
 
 I 
 
 ;» .... 
 
 u \ 
 
86 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 4\ 
 
 -SV; 
 
 quasy a most ambitious, haughty and blood-thirsty people, from 
 whom the other Indians take their measures and manners, and 
 their modes and liianges of dress, &c. One very ''ot season, 
 a great number gathered together at the village ^m'\ being a 
 very droughty [thirsty] people, they kept James and myself 
 night and day fetch. ng water from a cold spring, that ran out 
 of a rocky hill about three quarters of a mile from the fort. In 
 going thither, we crossed a large interval cornfield, and then a 
 descent to a lower interval, before we ascended the hill to the 
 spring. James being almost dead, as well as I, with this con- 
 tinual fatigue, contrived to frighten the Indians. He told me of 
 his plan, but conjured me to secrecy, yet said ho knew I could 
 keep counsel ! The next dark night, James, going for water, 
 set his kettle down on the descent to the lowest interval, and 
 running back to the fort, puffing and blowing as though in the 
 utmost surprise, told his master that he saw something near 
 the spring that looked like Mohawks, (which were only stumps.) 
 His master, being a most courageous warrior, went with him 
 to make discovery. When they came to the brow of the hill, 
 James pointed to the stumps, and withal touching his kettle 
 with his toe, gave it motion doAvn the hill ; at every turn its 
 bail clattered, which caused James and his master to see a 
 Mohawk in every stump, and they lost no time in " turning 
 tail to," and ao was the best fellow who could run the fastest. 
 Th'r alarmed v\\ ihe Indians in the village. They were about 
 thirty or fovty in number, and they packed off, bag and 
 bagguge, some up the river and others down, and did not 
 return under iifteen days; and then the heat of the weather 
 being finally over, our hard service Avas abated for this season. 
 I never heard that the Indians understood the occasion of their 
 fright ; but James and I had many a private laugh about it. 
 
 But my most intimate and dear companion was one John 
 Evans, a young man taken from Quochecho. We, as often as 
 we could, met together, and made known our grievances to 
 each other, Avhich seemed to case our minds ; but, as soon as 
 it was known by the Indians, v/e were strictly examined apart, 
 and falsely accused of contriving to desert. We were too far 
 from the sea to have any thought of that, and finding our sto- 
 ries agreed, did not punish us. An English captive girl about 
 this time, who was taken by Medocawando, would often false- 
 ly accuse us of plotting to desert; but we made the truth so 
 plainly appear, that she was checked and we were released. 
 But the third winter of my captivity, John Evans went into 
 the country, and the Indians imposed a heavy burden on him, 
 while he was extremely weak from long fasting ; and as lie 
 was going off the upland over a place of ice, which was ve 
 
 kilh 
 
 r-ery 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 87 
 
 hollow, he broke through, fell down, and cut his knee very 
 much. Notwithstanding, he travelled for some time, but the 
 wind and cold were so forcible, that they soon overcame him, 
 and he sat or fell down, and all the Indians passed by him. 
 Some of them went back the next day after him, or his pack, 
 and found him, with a dog in his arms, both frozen to death. 
 Thus all of my fellow-captives were dispersed and dead, but 
 through infinite and unmerited goodness as supported un- 
 der and carried through all difficulties. 
 
 I f 
 
 ■\ 
 
 turning 
 fastest, 
 e about 
 ig and 
 did not 
 ireather 
 season. 
 )f their 
 It it. 
 e John 
 fien as 
 ices to 
 lOon as 
 apart, 
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 lur to- 
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 false- 
 •uth so 
 [eased, 
 it into 
 |n him, 
 as lie 
 is very 
 
 Chapter III. — Of further difficulties ■■> ii inces. One 
 winter, as we were moving from place ^ , our hunters 
 
 killed some moose. One lying some miles from our wig- 
 wams, a young Indian and myself were ordered to fetch part 
 of it. We set out in the morning, when the weather was 
 promising, but it proved a very cold, cloudy day. It was late 
 in the evening before we arrived at the place where the moose 
 lay, so that we had no time to provide materials for fire or 
 shelter. At the same time came on a storm of snow, very 
 thick, which continued until the next morning. We made a 
 small fire with what little rubbish we could find around us. 
 The fire, with the warmth of our bodies, melted the snow upon 
 us as fast as it fell ; and so our clothes were filled with water. 
 However, early in the morning we took our loads of moose 
 flesh, and set out to return to our wigwams. We had not 
 travelled far before my moose-skin coat (which was the only 
 garment I had on my back, and the hair chiefly worn off) was 
 frozen stiff round my knees, like a hoop, as were my snow- 
 shoes and shoe-clouts to my feet. Thus I marched the whole 
 day without fire or food. At first I was in great pain, then 
 my i;esh became numb, and at times I felt extremely sick, and 
 thought I could not travel one foot farther ; but I wonderfully 
 revived again. 
 
 After long travelling I felt very drowsy, and had thoughts of 
 sitting down, which had I done, without doubt I had fallen 
 on my final sleep, as my dear companion, Evans, had done 
 before. My Indian companion, being better clothed, had left 
 me long before. Again my spirits revived as much as if I 
 had received the richest cordial. Some hours after sunset I 
 reached the wigwam, and crawling in with my snow-shoes on, 
 the Indians cried out, " The captive is frozen to death !" They 
 took off my pack, and the place where that lay against my 
 back was the only one that was not frozen. They cut off my 
 shoes, and stripped off the clouts from my feet, which were as 
 void of feeling as any frozen flesh could be. I had not sat 
 long by the Are before the blood began to circulate, and my 
 
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 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
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 feet to my ankles turned black, and swelled with bloody blis- 
 ters, and were inexpressibly painful. The Indians said one 
 to another, " His feet will rot, and he will die." Yet I slept 
 well at night. Soon after, the skin came off my feet from my 
 ankles, whole, like a shoe, leaving my toes naked, without a 
 nail, and the ends of my great toe bones bare, which, in a little 
 lime, turned black, so that I was obliged to cut the first joint 
 off with my knife. The Indians gave me rags to bind up my 
 feet, and advised me to apply fir balsam, but withal added that 
 they believed it was not worth while to use means, for I should 
 certainly die. But, by the use of my elbows, and a stick in 
 each hand, I shoved myself along as I sat upon the ground 
 over the snow from one tree to another, till I got some balsam. 
 This I burned in a clam-shell till it was of a consistence like 
 salve, which I applied to my feet and ankles, and, by the di- 
 vine blessing, within a week 1 could go about upon my heels 
 with my staff. And, through God's goodness, we had pro- 
 visions enough, so that we did not remove under ten or fifteen 
 days. Then the Indians made two little hoops, something in 
 the form of a snow-shoe, and sewing them to my feet, I was 
 able to follow them in their tracks, on my heels, from place to 
 place, though sometimes half leg deep in snow and water, 
 which gave me the most acute pain imaginable ; but I must 
 walk or die. Yet within a year my feet were entirely well; 
 and the nails came on my great toes, so that a very critical eye 
 could scarcely perceive any part missing, or that they had been 
 frozen at all. 
 
 In a time of great scarcity of provisions, the Indians chased 
 a large moose into the river, and killed him. They brought 
 the flesh to the village, and raised it on a scaffold, in a large 
 wigwam, in order to make a feast. I was very oflicious in 
 supplying them with wood and water, which pleased them so 
 well that they now and then gave me a piece of flesh half 
 boiled or roasted, which I ate with eagerness, and I douht not 
 without due thankfulness to the divine Being who so extra- 
 ordinarily fed me. At length the scaffold bearing the moose 
 meat broke, and I being under it, a large niece fell, and knock- 
 ed me on the head.* The Indians said I lay stunned a con- 
 siderable time. The first I was sensible of was a murmuring 
 noise in my ears, then my sight gradually returned, with an 
 extreme pain in, my hand, which was very much bruised ; and 
 it was long before L recovered, the weather being very hot. 
 
 I was once fishing with an Indian for sturgeon, and the 
 Indian darting one, his feet slipped, and he turned the canoe 
 
 * Whether he were stmck by a timber of the scaffold, or a quantify of 
 tbs meat on it, we are left to conjecture, and it is not very material. — Ed. 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 80 
 
 r bli*- 
 i one 
 [ slept 
 m my 
 lout a 
 X littld 
 it joint 
 up my 
 d that 
 should 
 tick in 
 ground 
 )alsam. 
 ce like 
 the di- 
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 ad pro- 
 r fifteen 
 thing in 
 t, I waa 
 place to 
 1 water, 
 I must 
 y well ; 
 ical eye 
 ,ad been 
 
 inti*y of 
 i.-Ed. 
 
 bottom upward, with me under it. I held fast to the cross-bar, 
 as I could not swim, with my face to the bottom of the canoe ; 
 but turning myself, I brought my breast to bear on the crosr- 
 bar, expecting every minute the Indian to tow me to.ths bank. 
 But " he had other fish to fry." Thus I continued a quarter 
 of an hour, [though] without want of breath, till the current 
 drove me on a rocky point where I could reach bottom. 
 There 1 stopped, and turned up my canoe. On looking about 
 for the Indian, I saw him half a mile off up the river. On 
 going to him, I asked him why he had not towed me to the 
 bank, seeing he knew I could not swim. He said he knew I 
 was under the canoe, for there were no bubbles any where to 
 be seen, and that I should drive on the point. So while he was 
 taking care of his fine sturgeon, which was eight or ten feet in 
 length, I was left to sink or swim. 
 
 Once, as we were fishing for salmon at a fall of about fifteen 
 feet of water, I came near being drownded in a deep hole at 
 the foot of the fall. The Indians went into the water to wash 
 themselves, and asked me to go with them. I told them I 
 could not swim, but they insisted, and so I went in. They 
 ordered me to dive across the deepest place, and if I fell short 
 of the other side they said they would help me. But, instead 
 of diving across the narrowest part, I was crawling on the bot- 
 tom into the deepest place. They not seeing me rise, and 
 knowing whereabouts I was by the bubbling of the water, a 
 young girl dived down, and brought me up by the hair, other- 
 wise I had perished in the water. Though the Indians, both 
 male and female, go into the water together, they have each 
 of them suqJi covering on that not the least indecency can be 
 observed, add neither chastity nor modesty is violated. 
 
 While at the Indian village, I had been catting wood and 
 binding it up with an Indian rope, in order lo carry it to the 
 wigwam ; a stout, ill-natured young fellow", about twenty years 
 of age, threw me backward, sat on my breast, pulled out his 
 knife, and said he would kill me, for he had never yet killed 
 one of the English. I told him he might go to war, and that 
 would be more manly than to kill a poor captive who was do- : 
 ing their drudgery for them. Notwithstanding all I could say, 
 be began to cut and stab me on my breast. I seized him qfc 
 the hair, and tumbling him off of me, followed him with m* 
 fists and knee with such application that he soon cried 
 "enough." But when I saw the blood run from my bosom, and 
 folt the smart of the wounds he had given me, I at him again, 
 and bid him get up, and not lie there like a dog; told him of 
 his former abuses offered to me, and other poor captives, and 
 that if ever he offered the like to me again, I would pay him 
 8* 
 
 "i<'i 
 
 • ^ 
 
 1 
 
 MMMMMitii 
 
90 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 double. I sent him before me, and taking up my burden of 
 wood, came to the Indians, and told them the whole truth, 
 and they commended me. And I do not remember that ever 
 he offered me the least abuse afterwards, though he was big 
 enough to have despatched two of me. 
 
 Chapter IV. — Of remarkable events of Providence in the 
 deaths of several barbarous Indians. The priest of this river 
 was of the order of St. Francis, a gentleman of a humane, 
 generous disposition. In his sermons he most severely repre- 
 hended the Indians for the' barbarities to captives. He would 
 often tell them that, excepting their errors in religion, the Eng- 
 lish were a better people than themselves, and that God woiild 
 remarkably punish such cruel wretches, and had begun to exe- 
 cute his vengeance upon such already ! He gave an account 
 of the retaliations of Providence upon those murderous Cape 
 Sttble Indians above mentioned ; one of whom got a splinter 
 into his foot, which festered and rotted his flesh till it killed 
 him. Another run a fish-bone into her hand or arm, and she 
 rotted to death, notwithstanding all means that were used to 
 prevent it. In some such manner they all died, so that not 
 one of those two families lived to return home.* Were it not 
 for these remarks of the priest, I had not, perhaps, have noticed 
 ihese providences. 
 
 There was an old squaw who ever endeavored to outdo all 
 <others in cruelty to captives. Wherever she came into a wig- 
 wam, where any poor, naked, starved captives were sitting 
 near* the fire, if they were grown persons, she would stealthily 
 take up a shovel of hot coals, and t^ ->w them into their bo- 
 soms. If they were young persons, would seize them by 
 the hand or leg, drag them through tl. are, &c. The Indians 
 with whom she lived, according to their custom, left their vil- 
 lage in the fall of the year, ai»a dispersed themselves for hunt- 
 ing. After the first or second romoval, they all strangely foriiot 
 that old squaw and her grandson, about twelve years of aire. 
 They were found dead in the place where they were left some 
 months afterwards, and no farther notice was taken of them 
 by their friends. Of this the priest made special remark, ibr- 
 asmuch as it is a thing very uncommon for them to ne<2lect 
 either their old or young people. 
 
 In the latter part of summer, or beginning of autumn, the 
 Indians were frequently frightened by the appearance of 
 
 * Reference is probably had to those Indians, of whom the author has 
 before spoken, as having come to the fort of those with whom he wm 
 amoniEc, to be revenged on any whites for the loss of some of their fnends 
 who had been killed by white fishermen. — £d. 
 
 '""''''■"'^^^"'ri'aii?-"iii'fi»' 
 
sitting 
 
 lalthily 
 
 leir bo- 
 
 lem by 
 
 Indians 
 
 ir vil- 
 
 hunt- 
 
 forjiot 
 
 >f ace. 
 
 some 
 
 them 
 
 If, Cor- 
 
 |ei2"lect 
 
 |n, the 
 
 :e of 
 
 kor has 
 le was 
 Irieuds 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 91 
 
 strange Indians, passing up and down this river in canoes, 
 and about that time the next year died more than one hun- 
 dred persons, old and young ; all, or most of those who sayr 
 those strange Indiana ! The priest said it was a sort of plague. 
 A person seeming in perfect health would bleed at the mouth 
 and nose, turn blue in spots, and die in two or three hours."^ 
 It was very tedious to me to remove from place to place this 
 cold season. The Indians applied red ochre to my sores, 
 [which had been occasioned by the affray before mentioned,] 
 which by God's blessing cured me. This sickness being at 
 the worst as winter came on, the Indians all scattered ; and the 
 blow was so great to them, that they did not settle or plant at 
 their village while I was on the river, [St. Johns,] and I know 
 not whether they have to this day. Before they thus deserted 
 the village, when they came in from hunting, they would be drunk 
 and fight for several days and nights together, till they had spent 
 most of their skins in wine and brandy, which was brought to 
 the village by a Frenchman called Monsieur Sigenioncour. 
 
 Chaptee Y.—Of their familiarity with and frights from 
 the devil, Sec. The Indians are very often surprised with the 
 appearance of ghosts and demons. Sometimes they are en- 
 couraged by the devil, for they go to him for success in hunt- 
 ing, &;c. I was once hunting Avith Indians who were not 
 brought over to the Romish faith, and after several days they 
 proposed to inquire, according to their custom, what success 
 they should have. They accordingly prepared many hot 
 stones, and laying them in a heap, made a small hut covered 
 with skins and mats ; then in a dark night two of the powwows 
 went into this hot house with a large vessel of water, which 
 at times they poured on those hot rocks, which raised a thick 
 steam, so that a third Indian was obliged to stand without, and 
 lift up a mat, to give it vent when they were almost suffocated. 
 There was an old squaw who was kind to captives, and never 
 joined with them in their powwowing, to whom I manifested 
 an earnest desire to see their management. She told me that 
 if they knew of my being there they would kill me, and that" 
 when she was a girl she had known young persons to be 
 taken away by a hairy man, and therefore she would not advise 
 me to go, lest the hairy man should carry me away. I told 
 
 * Calamitous mortalities are oflen mentioned as happening amon^ the 
 Indians, hut that the appearance of stmnge Indians had any thing to do 
 with it, will only excite admiration to the enlightened of this age. It was 
 l*y a mortality something similar that the country about the coast of 
 Massachusetts was nearly depopulated two or three years before the settle* 
 meat of Plymouth. — Ed. .^ , 
 
 'I 
 
93 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 her I was not afraid of the hairy man, nor could he hurt me if 
 she would not discover me to the powwows. At length she 
 promised me she would not, but charged me to be careful of 
 myself. I went within three or four feet of the hot house, for 
 it was very dark, and heard strange noises and fellings, such 
 as I never heard before. At times the Indian who tended 
 without would lift up the mat, and a steam would issue which , 
 looked like fire. I lay there two or three hours, but saw none 
 of their hairy men, or demons. And when I found they had 
 finished their ceremony, I went to the wigwam, and told the 
 squaw what had passed. She was glad I had escaped without 
 hurt, and never discovered what I had done. After some time 
 inquiry was made of the powwows what success we were 
 likely to have in our hunting. They said they had very 
 likely signs of success, but no real ones as at other times. A 
 few days after we moved up the river, and had pretty good 
 luck. 
 
 One afternoon as I was in a canoe with one of the pow- 
 wows the dog barked, and presently a moose passed by within 
 a few rods of us, so that the waves he made by wading rolled 
 our canoe. The Indian shot at him, but the moose took very 
 little notice of it, and went into the woods to the southward. 
 The fellow said, " I will try if I can't fetch you back for all 
 your haste." The evening following, we built our two wig- 
 wams on a sandy point on the upper end of an island in the 
 river, north-west of the pla<"? where the moose went into the 
 woods ; and here the Indian powwowed the greatest part of 
 the night following. In the morning we had a fair track of a 
 moose round our wigwams, though we did not see or taste of 
 » it. I am of opinion that the devil was permitted to humor 
 those unhappy wretches sometimes, in some things.* 
 
 That it may appear how much they were deluded, or under 
 the influence of satan, read the two stories which were related 
 and believed by the Indians. The first, of a boy who was car- 
 ried away by a large bird called a GuIIoua, who buildeth her 
 nest on a high rock or mountain. A boy was hunting with 
 his bow and arrow at the foot of a rocky mountain, when the 
 gulloua came diving through the air, grasped the boy in her 
 talons, and although he was eight or ten years of age, she 
 soared aloft and laid him in her nest, food for her young. 
 
 * Whatever the Indians might have believed about the devil, one thing 
 Is pretty clear, that our captive had great faith in his abilities. Quite as 
 easy a way to have accounted for moose tracks about their wigwam, 
 would have been to suppose that that animal might have been attixicted 
 by the uncouth noise of the powwow to approach them lor the object of 
 discovery. It is very common for wild animals to do so. — ^Ed. 
 
 -■'■ifi^-'f,ifi-ii^-:u-m;rfiil f 
 
,.v- 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 98 
 
 The boy lay still on his face, but observed two of the younff 
 birds in the nest with hin;, having much fish and flesh to feed 
 upon. The old one seeing they would not eat the boy, took 
 him up in her claws and returned him to the place from whence 
 she took him. I have passed near the mountain in a canoe, 
 and the Indians have said, " There is the nest of the great bird 
 that carried away the boy." Indeed there seemed to be a great 
 number of sticks put together like a nest on the top of the 
 mountain. At another time they said, " There is the bird, but 
 he is now as a boy to a giant to what he was in former days." 
 The bird which we saw was a large and speckled one, like an 
 eagle, though somewhat larger.* 
 
 When from the mountain tops, with hideous cry 
 
 And clattering wings, the hungry harpies fly, 
 
 They snatched # # # # 
 
 • * And Avhether gods or birds obscene they were, 
 
 Our vows for pardon and for peace prefer. 
 
 Drtden's YrRon.. 
 
 The other notion is, that a young Indian in his hunting was 
 belated, and losing his way, was on a sudden introduced to 
 a large wigwam full of dried eels, which proved to be a bea- 
 ver's house, in which he lived till the spring of the year, when 
 he was turned out of the house, and being set upon a beaver's 
 dam, went home and related the affair to his friends at large. 
 
 J! > 
 
 thing 
 lite as 
 
 kticted 
 rtof 
 
 Chapter VI. — A description of several creatures com.' 
 monly taken by the Indians on St. John's river. 
 
 I. Of the Beaver. — The beaver has a very thick, strong 
 neck ; his fore teeth, which are two in the upper and two in 
 the under jaw, are concave and sharp like a carpenter's gouge. 
 Their side teeth are like a sheep's, for they chew the cud. 
 Their legs are short, the claws something longer than in , 
 other creatures. The nails on the toes of their hind feet 
 are fiat like an ape's, but joined together by a membrane, as 
 those of the water-fowl, their tails broad and fiat like the broad 
 end of a paddle. Near their tails they have four bottles, two 
 of which contain oil, the others gum ; the necks of these meet 
 in one common orifice. The latteriof these bottles contain the 
 proper castorum, and not the testicles, as some have fancied, 
 for they are distinct and separate from them, in the males only ; 
 
 * Not exactly a./ish story, but it is certainly a bird story, and although Mr. 
 Gyles has fortified himself behind " believed by the Indians," yet I fear ^. 
 his reputation for credulity will be somewhat enhanced in the mind of '>^ 
 the reader. I think, however, it should not derogate from his character 
 for veracity. 
 
 m t 
 
 :0- »' 
 
04 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 n 
 
 whereas the castorum and oil bottles are common to male and 
 female. With this oil and gum they preen themselves, so 
 that when they come out of the water it runs off of them, as 
 it does from a fowl. They have four teats, which are on their 
 breasts, so that they hug up their young and suckle them, as 
 women do their infants. They have generally two, and some- 
 times four in a litter. I have seen seven or five in the matrix, 
 but the Indians think it a strange thing to find so many in a 
 litter ; and they assert that when it so happens tiio dam kills ' 
 all but four. They are the most laborious creatures that 1 
 have met with. I have known them to build dams across a 
 river, thirty or forty perches wide, with wood and mud, so as 
 to flow many acres of land. In the deepest part of a pond so 
 raised, they build their houses, round, in the figure of an Indian 
 wigwam, eight or ten feet high, and six or eight in diameter 
 on the floor, which is made descending to the water, the parts 
 near the centre about four, and near the circumference between 
 ten and twenty inches above the water. These floors are cov- 
 ered with strippings of wood, like shavings. On these they 
 sleep with their tails in the water ;* and if the freshets rise, they 
 have the advantage of rising on their floor to the highest part. 
 They feed on the leaves and bark of trees, and pond lily 
 roots. In the fall of the year they lay in their provision for 
 the approaching winter ; cutting down trees great and small. 
 With one end in their mouths they drag their branches near to 
 their house, and sink many cords of it. (They will cut [gnaw] 
 down trees of a fathom in circumference.) They have doors 
 to go down to the wood under the ice. And in case the fresh- 
 ets rise, break down and carry off their store of wood, they 
 often starve. They have a note for conversing, calling and 
 warning each other when at work or feeding ; and while they 
 are at labor they keep out a guard, who upon the first approach 
 of an enemy so strikes the water with his tail that he may 
 be heard half a mile. This so alarms the rest that they are 
 all silent, quit their labor, and are to be seen no more for that 
 time. If the male or female die, the survivor seeks a mate, 
 and conducts him or her to their house, and carry on affairs as 
 above. 
 
 < II. Of the Wolverene. [Gulo Liiscus o( h.] The wol- 
 verene is a very fierce and mischievous creature, about the 
 bigness of a middling dog ; haA'ing short legs, broad feet and 
 
 ♦ I recollect to have seen a similar statement by that singular genius, 
 Thomas Morton, of Mare Mount, in his more singular book, New Eng- 
 lish Canaan, about beavers keeping their tails in the water. Morton, 
 however, tells us the reason they do so, viz. "nhich else would overhtat and 
 rot off,"— Ed. 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 95 
 
 le wol- 
 lut the 
 ^et and 
 
 I genius, 
 Emg- 
 lorton, 
 litat and 
 
 very sharp claws, and in my opinion may be reckoned a spe- 
 cies of cat. They will climb trees and wait for moose and 
 other animals which feed below, and when opportunity pre- 
 sents, jump upon and strike their claws in them so fast that 
 they will hang on them till they have gnawed the main nerve 
 in their neck asunder, which causes their death. I have 
 known many moose killed thus. I was once travelling a little 
 way behind several Indians, and hearing them laugh merrily, 
 ;when I came up I asked them the cause of their laughter. 
 They showed me the track of a moose, and how a wolverene 
 had climbed a tree, and where he had jumped off upon a 
 moose. It so happened, that after the moose had taken seve- 
 ral large leaps, it came under the branch of a tree, which strik- 
 ing the wolverene, broke his hold and tore him off; and by 
 his tracks in the snow it appeared he went off another way» 
 with short steps, as if he had been stunned by the blow that 
 had broken his hold. The Indians imputed the accident to 
 the cunning of the moose, and were wonderfully pleased that 
 it had thus outwitted the mischievous wolverene. 
 
 These wolverenes go into wigwams which have -been left 
 for a time, scatter the things abroad, and most filthily pollute 
 them with ordure. I have heard the Indians say that this ani- 
 mal has sometimes pulled their guns from under their head3 
 while they were asleep, and left them so defiled. An Indian 
 told me that having left his wigwam with sundry things on 
 the scaffold, among which was a birchen flask containing seve- 
 ral pounds of powder, he found at his return, much to his sur- 
 prise and grief, that a wolverene had visited it, rnounted the 
 scaffold, hove down bag and baggage. The pow r flask hap- 
 pening to fall into the fire, exploded, blowing up the volverene, 
 and scattering the wigwam in all directions. At length he 
 found the creature, blind from the blast, wandering backward 
 and forward, and he had the satisfaction of kicking and beat- 
 ing him about ! This in a great measure made up their loss, 
 and then they could contentedly pick up their utensils and rig 
 out their wigwam. 
 
 III. Of the Hedgehog, [Histriz Dorsata,'] or Urchin, 
 [Urson?] Our hedgehog or urchin is about the bigness of a 
 hog of six months old. His back, sides and tail are full of 
 sharp quills, so that if any creature approach him, he will con- 
 tract himself into a globular form, and when touched by his 
 enemy, his quills are so sharp and loose in the skin they fix in 
 the mouth of the adversary. They will strike with great force 
 with their tails, so that whatever falls under the lash of them 
 ore certainly filled with their prickles ; but that they shoot 
 their quills, as some assert they do, is a great mistake, as re- 
 
 ..«f^' 
 
 .■■%^-.-v ■-" -di 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 spects the American hedgehog, and I believe ns to the Afri- 
 ean hedgehog or porcupine, also. As to the former, I have 
 taken them at all seasons of the year. 
 
 IV. Of the Tortoise. It is needless to describe the fresh- 
 water tortoise, whose form is so well known in all parts; but 
 their manner of propagating their species is not so universally 
 known. I have observed that sort of tortoise whose shell is 
 about fourteen or sixteen inches wide. In their coition they 
 may be heard half a mile, making a noise like a woman wash- 
 ing her linen with a batting staff". They lay their eggs in the 
 sand, near some deep, still water, about a foot beneath the sur- 
 face of the sand, with which they are very curious in covering 
 them ; so that there is not the least mixture of it amongst 
 them, nor the least rising of sand on the beach where they are 
 deposited. I have often searched for them with the Indians, 
 by thrusting a stick into the sand at random, and brought up 
 some part of an egg clinging to it ; when, uncovering the place, 
 we have found near one hundred and fifty in one nest. Both 
 their eggs and flesh are good eating when boiled. I have 
 observed a difference as to the length of time in which they 
 tie hatching, which is between twenty and thirty days ; some 
 sooner than others. Whether this difference ought to be im- 
 puted to the various quality or site of the sand in which they 
 are laid, (as to the degree of cold or heat,) I leave to the con- 
 jecture of the virtuosi. As soon as they are hatched, the 
 young tortoise breaks through the sand and betake themselves 
 to the water, and, as far as I could dis<iover, without any fur- 
 ther care or help of the old ones. 
 
 Chapter VII. — Of their feasting. 1. Before they go to 
 toar. When the Indians determine on war, or are entering 
 upon a particular expedition, they kill a number of their dogs, 
 burn oflf their hair and cut them to pieces, leaving only one 
 dog's head whole. The rest of the flesh they boil, and make 
 a fine feast of it. Then the dog's head that was left whole is 
 scorched, till the nose and lips have shrunk from the teeth, 
 leaving them bare and grinning. This done, they fasten it on 
 a stick, and the Indian who is proposed to be chief in the expe- 
 dition takes the head into his hand, nnd sings a warlike song, 
 in which he mentions the town they design to attack, and the 
 principal man in it ; threatening that in a few days he will 
 carry that man's head and scalp in his hand, in the same man- 
 ner. When the chief has finished singing, he so places the 
 dog's head as to grin at him who he SNBteposes will go his 
 second, who, if he accepts, takes the head'^'in his hand and 
 sings ; but if he refuses to go, he turns the teeth to another ; 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 97 
 
 Afri- 
 have 
 
 fresh- 
 i; but 
 jrsally 
 lell is 
 n they 
 wash- 
 in the 
 lie sur- 
 ivering 
 nongst 
 ley are 
 ndians, 
 ght up 
 B place, 
 
 Both 
 I have 
 h they 
 ; some 
 I he im- 
 :h they 
 e con- 
 ^ed, the 
 
 selves 
 ,ny fur- 
 
 go to 
 Intering 
 V dogs, 
 ily one 
 ' make 
 ^hole is 
 teeth, 
 tn it on 
 expe- 
 song, 
 \nd the 
 e will 
 man- 
 tes the 
 Igo his 
 \d and 
 lother ; 
 
 and thus from one to another till they have enlisted their com- 
 pany. 
 
 The Indians imagine that dog's flesh makes them bold and 
 courageous. I have seen nn Indian split a dog*s head with a 
 hatchet, take out the brains hot, and eat them raw with the 
 blood running down his jaws ! 
 
 2. When a relation dies. In a still evening, a squaw 
 will walk on the highest land near her abode, and with a 
 loud and mournful voice will exclaim, '* Oh hawe, hawe, haioe" 
 with a long, mournful tone to each hawe, for a long time 
 together. After the mourning season is over, the relations of 
 the deceased make a feast to wipe off tears, and the bereaved 
 may marry freely. If the deceased was a squaw, the relations 
 consult together, and choose a squaw, (doubtless a widow,) and 
 send her to the widower, and if he likes her he takes her 
 to be his wife, if not, he sends her back, and the relations 
 choose and send till they find one that he approves of. 
 
 If a young fellow determines to marry, his relations and the 
 Jesuit advise him to a girl. He goes into the wigwam where 
 she is, and looks on her. If he likes her appearance, he tosses 
 a chip or stick into her lap, which she takes, and with a 
 reserved, side look, views the person who sent it; yet handles 
 the chip with admiration, as though she wondered from whence 
 it came. If she likes him she throws the chip to him with a 
 modest smile, and then nothing is wanting but a ceremony with 
 the Jesuit to consummate the marriage. But if she* dislikes 
 her suitor, she, with a surly countenance, throws the chip aside, 
 and he comes no more there. 
 
 If parents have a daughter marriageable they seek a hus- 
 band for her who is a good hunter. If she has been educated 
 to make monoodah, (Indian bags,) birch dishes, to lace snow- 
 shoes, make Indian shoes, string wampum belts, sew birch 
 canoes, and boil the kettle, she is esteemed a lady of fine 
 accomplishments. If the man sought out for her husband 
 have a gun and ammunition, a canoe, spear, and hatchet, a 
 monoodah, a crooked knife, looking-glass and paint, a pipe, 
 tobacco, and knot-bowl to toss a kind of dice in, he is accounted 
 a gentleman of a plentiful fortune. Whatever the new-married 
 man procures the first year belongs to his wife's parents. If 
 the young pair have a child within a year and nine months, 
 they are thought to be very forward and libidinous persons. 
 
 ay their play with dice they lose much time, playing whole 
 days and nights together; sometimes staking their whole 
 efiects ; though this is accounted a great vice by the old men. 
 
 A digression. — There is an old story told amongthe Indians 
 
 of a family who had a daughter that was accounted -i^ finished 
 
 9 ■•■.■■,.;— ■ • 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 beavty, having been adorned with the precious jewel, an Indian 
 education ! She was so formed by nature, and polished by art, 
 thut they could not find for her a suitable consort. At length, 
 while this family were once residing upon the head of Penob- 
 scot river, under the White hills, called Teddon^ this line crea- 
 ture was missing, and her parents could learn no tidings of her. 
 After much time and pains spent, and tears showered in quest 
 of her, they saw her aiverting herself with a beautiful youth, 
 whose hair, like her own, flowed down below his waist, swim- 
 ming, washing, &c., in the water; but they vanished upon 
 their approach. This beautiful person, whom they imagined 
 to be one of those kind spirits who inhabit the Teddon, they 
 looked upon as their son-in-law; and, according to their 
 custom, they called upon him for moose, bear, or whatever 
 creature they desired, and if they did but go to the water-side 
 and signify their desire, the animal would come swimming to 
 them ! I have heard an Indian say that ho lived by the river, 
 at the foot of the Teddon, the top of which he could see through 
 the hole of his wigwam left for the smoke to pass out. He 
 was tempted to travel to it, and accordingly set out on a sum- 
 mer morning, and labored hard in ascendmg the hill all day, 
 and the top seemed as distant from the place where he lodged 
 at night as from his wigwam, where he began his journey. He 
 now concluded the spirits were there, and never dared to make 
 a second attempt. 
 
 I have been credibly informed that several others have failed 
 in like attempts. Once three young men climbed towards its 
 summit three days and a half, at the end of which time they 
 became strangely disordered with delirium, &c., and when 
 their imagination was clear, and they could recollect where 
 they were, they found themselves returned one day's journey. 
 How they came to be thus transported they could not conjec- 
 ture, unless the genii of the place had conveyed them. These 
 White hills, at the head of Penobscot river, are, by the Indians, 
 said to be much higher than those called Agiockochook, above 
 Saco.* 
 
 But to return to an Indian feast, of which you may request a 
 bill of fare before you go. If you dislike it, stay at home. The 
 ingredients are fish, flesh, or Indian corn, and beans boiled 
 together; sometimes hasty pudding made of pounded corn, 
 whenever and as often as these are plenty. An Indian boils 
 four or five large kettles full, and sends a messenger to each 
 wigwam door, who exclaims, ** Kuh Tnenscoorebah .'" that is, 
 " I come to conduct you to a feast." The man within demands 
 
 * Some additions to these traditions will be found in the Book of ihe Jn^ 
 iKoNi, iu. 131.— Ed. 
 
JOHN OYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 idian 
 
 y art, 
 
 ngth, 
 
 enob- 
 
 crea- 
 
 fher. 
 
 quest 
 
 routh, 
 
 3wim- 
 
 upon 
 igined 
 I, they 
 
 theiT 
 atever 
 BT-side 
 ling to 
 ! river, 
 tirough 
 t. He 
 a sum- 
 ill day, 
 lodged 
 >y. He 
 make 
 
 failed 
 ards its 
 le they 
 
 when 
 
 where 
 jurney. 
 conjec- 
 
 These 
 ndians, 
 
 :, above 
 
 quest a 
 . The 
 boiled 
 corn, 
 in boils 
 Ito each 
 Ithat is, 
 >mands 
 
 whether he must take u spoon or a Vttife in his dish, which he 
 always carries with him. They appoint two or three young 
 men to mess it out, to each man his portion, according to the 
 number of his family at home. This is done with the utmost 
 exactness. When they have done eating, a young fellow stands 
 without the door, and cries aloud, '* Me/tisecommook,^^ •' come and 
 fetch!" Immediately each squaw goes to her husband and 
 takes what he has left, which she carries home and eats with 
 her children. For neither married women, nor any youth 
 under twenty, are allowed to be present; but old widow 
 squaws and captive men may sit by the door. The Indian 
 men continue in the wigwam; some relating their warlike 
 exploits, others something co.nical, others narrating their 
 hunting exploits. The seniors g've maxims of prudence and 
 grave counsel to the young mci ; and though every one's 
 speech be agreeable to the run of h s own fancy, yet they con- 
 fine themselves to rule, and but omt speaks at a time. After 
 every man has told his story, one rijes up, sings a feast song, 
 and others succeed alternately as the company sees fit. 
 
 Necessity is the mother of invention. If an Indian loses his 
 fire, he can presently take two sticks, one harder than the 
 other, (the drier the better,) and in the softest one make a hol- 
 low, or socket, in which one end of the hardest stick being 
 inserted, then holding the softest piece firm between his knees, 
 whirls it round like a drill, and fire will kindle in a few 
 minutes. 
 
 If they have lost or left their kettle, it is but putting their 
 victuals into a birch dish, leaving a vacancy in the middle, 
 filling it with water, and putting in hot stones alternately ; 
 they will thus thoroughly boil the toughest neck of beef. 
 
 Chapter VITI. — Of my three years captivity toith ike 
 French. — When about six years of my doleful captivity had 
 passed, my second Indian master died, whose squaw and my 
 first Indian master disputed whose slave I should be. Some 
 malicious persons advised them to end the quarrel by putting 
 a period to my life ; but honest father Simon, the priest of the 
 river, told them that it w^ould be a heinous crime, and advised 
 them to sell me to the French. There came annually one or 
 two men of war to supply the fort, which was on the river 
 about 34 leagues from the sea. The Indians having advice of 
 the arrival of a man of war at the mouth of the river, they, 
 about thirty or forty in number, went on board ; for the gentle- 
 men from France made a present to them every year, and set 
 forth the riches and victories of their monarch, &c. At this 
 time they presented the Indians with a bag or two of flour with 
 
too 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 some prunes, as ingredients for a feast. I, who was dressed 
 up in an old greasy blanket, without cap, hat, or shirt, (for I 
 had had no shirt for the six years, except the one I had on at 
 the time I was made prisoner,) was invited into the great cabin, 
 where many well-rigged gentlemen were sitting, who would 
 fain have had a full view of me. I endeavored to hide myself 
 behind the hangings, for I was much ashamed ; thinking how 
 I had once worn clothes, and of my living with people who 
 could rig as well as the best of them. My master asked me 
 whether I chose to be sold to the people of the man of war, or 
 to the inhabitants of the country. I replied, with tears, that 
 I should be Mad if he would sell me to the English from whom 
 I was taken ; but that if I must be sold to the French, I wished 
 to be sold to the lowest inhabitants on the river, or those near- 
 est to the sea, who were about twenty-five leagues from the 
 mouth of the river ; for I thought that, if I were sold to the 
 gentlemen in the ship, I should never return to the English. 
 This was the first time I had seen the sea during my captivity, 
 and the first time I had tasted salt or bread. 
 
 My master presently went on shore, and a few days after all 
 the Indians went up the river. When we came to a house 
 which I had spoken to my master about, he went on shore 
 with me, and tarried all night. The master of the house spoke 
 kindly to me in Indian, for I could not then speak one word of 
 French. Madam also looked pleasant on me, and gave me 
 some bread. The next day I vias sent six leagues further up 
 the river to another French house. My master and the friar 
 tarried with Monsieur Dechouffour, the gentleman who had 
 entertained us the night before. Not long after, father Simon 
 came and said, *' Now you are one of us, for you are sold to 
 that gentleman by whom you were entertained the other night. 
 I replied, " Sold ! — to a Frenchman !" I could say no more, 
 went into the woods alone, and wept till I could scarce see or 
 stand ! The word sold, and that to a people of that persua- 
 sion which my dear mother so much detested, and in her last 
 words manifested so great feavs of my falling into ! These 
 thoughts almost broke my heart, 
 
 When I had thus given ven', to my grief I wiped my eyes, 
 endeavoring to conceal its effects, but father Simon, perceiving 
 my eyes wer-^ swollen, called me aside, and bidding me not to 
 grieve, for the gentleman, he said, to whom I was sold, was of 
 a good humor; that he had formerly bought two captives, 
 both of whom had been sent to Boston. This, in some mea- 
 sure, revived me ; but he added he did not suppose I would 
 ever wish to go to the English, for the French religion was so 
 much better. He said, also, he should pass that way in about 
 
 foil 
 
 '.i^A^LVVbcOL-fluM,. "^^■j.A'l^ 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 101 
 
 iir 
 
 ;rup 
 friar 
 
 had 
 limon 
 >ld to 
 ^ight. 
 
 lore, 
 lee or 
 Irsua- 
 last 
 
 'hese 
 
 ;yeb, 
 
 iving 
 
 iot to 
 
 IS of 
 
 lives, 
 
 lea- 
 
 Irould 
 
 IS so 
 
 kbouti 
 
 ten days, and if T did not like to live with the French better 
 than with the Indians he would buy me again. On the day 
 following, father Simon and my Indian master went up the 
 river, six and thirty leagues, to their chief village, and I went 
 down the river six leagues with two Frenchmen to my new 
 master. He kindly received me, and in a few days madam 
 made me an osnaburg shirt and French cap, and a coat out of 
 one of my master's old coals. Then I threw away my greasy 
 blanket and Indian flap, and looked as smart as — . And I 
 never more saw the old friar, the Indian village, or my Indian 
 master, till about fourteen years after, when I saw my old 
 Indian master at Port Royal, whither I had been sent by the 
 government with a flag of truce for the exchange of prisoners ; 
 and again, about twenty-four years since, he came to St. John's, 
 to fort George, to see me, where I made him very welcome. 
 
 My French master held a great trade with the Indians, 
 which suited me very well, I being thorough in the languages 
 of the tribes at Cape Sable and St. Johns. 
 
 I had not lived long with this gentleman before he commit- 
 ted to me the keys of his store, &c., and my whole employment 
 was trading and hunting, in which I acted faithfully for my 
 master, and never, knowingly, wronged him to the value of one 
 farthing. 
 
 They spoke to me so much in Indian that it was some time 
 before I was perfect in the French tongue. Monsieur gene- 
 rally had his goods from the men-of-war which came there 
 annually from France. 
 
 In the year 1696, two men-of-war came to the mouth of the 
 river. In their way they had captured the Newport, Captain 
 Payson, and brought him with them. They made the Indians 
 some presents, and invited them to join in an expedition to 
 Pemmaquid. They accepted it, and soon after arrived there. 
 Capt. Chubb, who commanded that post, delivered it up with- 
 out much dispute to Monsieur D'Iberville, as I heard the gen- 
 tleman say, with who.: I lived, who was there present.* 
 
 Early in the spring I was sent with three Frenchmen to the 
 mouth of the river, for provision, which came from Port Royal. 
 We carried over land from the river to a large bay, where we 
 were driven on an island by a north-east storm, where we were 
 kept seven days, without any sustenance, for we expected a 
 quick passage, and carried nothing with us. The wind cott- 
 
 ♦ The reverend Dr. Mather says, wittily, as he says everything, " Thi»!)^ • 
 Chubb found opponunity, in a pretty Chttbhish manner, to kill the famous *^, 
 Edgeremet and Ahenquid, a couple of principal Indians, on a Lord's day, ^ 
 the 16th of February, 1695. If there is any unfair dealing in this action 
 
 9* 
 
 
 ■*¥y 
 
 I'll 
 I. I ' 
 
 j 
 
 i 
 
 \f 
 
 i 
 
 X 
 
^^^V*"'" 
 
 102 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITy. 
 
 tinuing boisterous, we could not return back, and the ice pre- 
 vented our going forward. After seven days th6 ice broke up 
 and we went forward, though we were so weak that we could 
 scarce hear each other speak. The people at the mouth of the 
 river were surprised to see us alive, and advised us to be cau- 
 tious and abstemious in eating. By this time I knew as much 
 of fasting as they, and dieted on broth, and recovered very well, 
 as did one of the others ; but the other two would not be 
 advised, and I never saw any persons in greater distress, till 
 at length they had action of the bowels, when they recovered. 
 
 A friar, who lived in the family, invited me to confession, 
 but I excused myself as well as I could at that time. One 
 evening he took me into his apartment in the dark and advised 
 me to confess to him what sins I had committed. I told him I 
 «ould not remember a thousandth part of them, they were so 
 numerous. Then he bid me remember and relate as many as 
 I coufld, and he would pardon them; signifying he had a bag 
 rto put them in. I told him I did not believe it wns in the 
 owwer of any but God to pardon sin. He asked me whether I 
 nad read the Bible. I told him I had, when I was a little boy, 
 but at was so long ago I had forgotten most of it. Then he 
 told me he did not pardon my sins, but when he knew them he 
 prayed to God to pardon them ; when, perhaps, I M^as at my 
 sports and play& He wished me well and hoped I should be 
 better advised, and said he should call for me in a little time. 
 Thus he dismissed me, nor did he ever call me to confession 
 afterwards. 
 
 The gentleman with whom I lived had a fine field of wheat, 
 in which great numbers of black-birds continually collected and 
 made great havoc in it. The French said a Jesuit would come 
 and banish them. He did at length come, and having all 
 things prepared, he took a basin of holy water, a staff with a 
 little brush, and having on his white robe, went into the field 
 of wheat. I asked several prisoners who had lately been taken 
 b^ privateers, and brought in there, viz. Mr. Woodbury, Cocks 
 [Cox ?] and Morgan, whether they would go and see the cere- 
 mony. Mr. Woodbury asked me whether I designed to go, 
 
 of Chubb, there will be another February, not far off, wherein the avenger 
 of blood will take satisfaction." — Hist. N. E. [Magnalia] B. vii. 79. 
 
 Mr. Mather adds, " On the 4th or 5th of August, Chubb, with an iin' 
 common baseness, did surrender the brave fort of Pemraaquid into their 
 hands." [For an account of the ivretched fate of Chubb as well as that 
 of the whole transaction, see Book of the Indians, B. iii. 121,. 122.] 
 
 (Tnthinking men no sort of scruples make, 
 (.' And some are bad only for mischief 's sake, '■ 
 
 But ev'n the best are guilty by mistake. 
 
 .»,; 
 
«r 
 
 •«> 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 103 
 
 ^ger 
 
 Inn- 
 
 leir 
 that 
 
 and I told him yes. He then said I was as had as a papist» 
 and a d — d fool. I told him I believed as little of it as he did, 
 but that I was inclined to see the ceremony, that I might tell 
 it to my friends. 
 
 With aboiit thirty following in procession, the Jesuit marched 
 through the field of wheat, a young lad going before him bear- 
 ing the holy water. Then the Jesuit, dipping his brush into 
 the holy water, sprinkled the field on each side of him ; a little 
 bell jingling at the same time, and all singing the words Ora 
 pro nobis. At the end of the field they wheeled to the left 
 aboutj and returned. Thus they passed and repassed the field 
 of wheat, the black-birds all the while rising before them only 
 to light behind. At their return I told a French lad that the 
 friar had done no service, and recommended them to shoot the 
 birds. The lad left me, as I thought, to see what the Jesuit 
 would say to my observation, which turned out to be the casef 
 for he told' the lad that the sins of the people were so great that 
 he could not prevail against those birds. The same friar as 
 vainly attempted to banish the musketoes from Signecto, but 
 the sins of the people there were also too great for him to pre- 
 vail, but^ on the other hand, it seemed that more came, which 
 caused the people to suspect that some had come for the sins> 
 of the Jesuit also. 
 
 Some time after, Col. Hawthorne attempted the taking of 
 the French fort up thiii river. We heard of him some time 
 before he came up, by the guard which Governor Villebon had 
 stationed at the river's mouth. Monsieur, my master, had gone 
 to France, and madam, his wife, advised with me. She desir- 
 ed me to nail a paper on the door of her house, which paper 
 read as follows : 
 
 " I entreat the general of the English not to bum my house 
 or bam, nor destroy my cattle. I don't suppose that such an 
 army comes here to destroy a few inhabitants, but to take the 
 fort above us. I have shown kindness to the English captives, 
 as we were capacitated, and have bought two, of the Ihdians, 
 and sent them to Boston. We have one now with us, and he 
 shall go also when a convenient opportunity presents, and he 
 desires it." 
 
 When I had done this, madam said to me, " Little English," 
 [which was the familiar name she used to call me by,] " we 
 have shown you kindness, and now it lies in your power to 
 serve or disserve us, as you know where our goods are hid in 
 the woods, and that monsieur is not at home. I could have 
 sent you to the fort and put you under confinement, but my 
 resp^t to you and your ascurance of love to us have disposed 
 me t#conade in you; persuaded you will not hurt us or our 
 
 
 
"V 
 
 
 104 
 
 JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 ■^•-« 
 
 •«.: 
 
 afTairs. And, now, if you will not run away to the English, 
 who are coming up the river, but serve our interest, T will ac- 
 quaint monsieur of it on his return from France, which will be 
 very pleasing to him ; and I now give my word, you shall have 
 liberty to go to Boston on the first opportunity, if you desire it, 
 or any other favor in my power shall not be denied you." ) 
 replied : 
 
 " Madam., it is contrary to the nature of the English to re>^ 
 quite evil for good. I shall endeavor to serve you and your 
 interest. I shall not run to the English, but if I am taken by 
 them I shall willingly go with them, and yet endeavor not to 
 disserve you either in your person or goods." 
 
 The place where we lived was called Hagimsack, twenty-five 
 leagues from the river's mouth, as I have before stated. 
 
 We now embarked and went in a large boat and canoe two 
 or three miles up an eastern branch of the river that comes 
 from a large pond, and on the following evening sent down four 
 hands to make discovery. And while they were sitting in the/ 
 house the English surrounded it and took one of the four. 
 The other three made their escape in the dark and through 
 the English soldiers, and coming to us, gave a surprising ac- 
 count of affairs. Upon this news madam said to me, " tiittle 
 English, now you can go from us, but I hope you will remem- 
 ber your word." I said, " Madam, be not concerned. I will 
 not leave you in this strait." She said, " I know not what to 
 do with my two poor little babes ! " I said, " Madam, the 
 sobner we embark and go over the great pond the better." 
 Accordingly we embarked and went over the pond. The next 
 day we spoke with Indians, who were in a canoe, and they 
 gave us an account that Signecto town was taken and burnt. 
 Soon after we heard the great guns at Gov. Villebon's fort, 
 which the English engaged several days. They killed one 
 man, then drew off down the river ; fearing to continue longer, 
 for fear of being frozen in for the winter, which in truth they 
 would have been. 
 
 Hearing no report of cannon for several Jays, I, with two 
 others, went down to our house to make discovery. We found 
 our young lad who was taken by the English \vhen they went 
 up the river. The general had shown himself so honorable, 
 that on reading the note on our door, he ordered it not to be 
 burnt, nor the barn. Our cattle and other things he preserved, 
 except one or two and the poultry for their use. At their 
 return they ordered the young lad to be put on shore. Find- 
 ing things in this posture, we returned and gave madam an 
 account of it. 
 
 She acknowledged the many favors which the English had 
 
 showed 
 The ne 
 war. 
 would 
 
 Accoi 
 sloop ca 
 chael C( 
 him the 
 English, 
 do for m 
 but rath 
 relations 
 and take 
 very kin 
 dam, anc 
 me, to s( 
 Starkee, 
 and if so, 
 to pay at 
 The masi 
 owner sh 
 rather thi 
 see any t 
 On the 
 sloop cam 
 the same, 
 came on b 
 tivity, and 
 little brotl 
 Pemmaqu: 
 the fort at 
 who made 
 our two lit 
 dead some 
 brother. 
 
 On the i 
 June, 1698 
 years, ten 
 though I I 
 God's good 
 Being acce] 
 riences to e 
 the infinite 
 
 ./-■sv: 
 
JOHN GYLES' CAPTIVITY. 
 
 lOd 
 
 showed her, with gratitude, and treated me with great civility. 
 The next spring monsieur arrived from France in the man-of- 
 war. He thanked me for my care of his aflairs, and said he 
 would endeavor to fulfil what madam had promised me. 
 
 Accordingly, in the year 1698, peace being proclaimed, a 
 sloop came to the mouth of the river with ransom for one Mi- 
 chael Coom.s. I put monsieur in mind of his word, telling 
 him there was now an opportunity for me to go and see the 
 English. He advised me to continue with him ; said he would 
 do for me as for his own, &c. I thanked him for his kindness, 
 but rather chose to go to Boston, hoping to find some of my 
 relations yet alive. Then he advised me to go up to the fort 
 and take my leave of the governor, which I did, and he spoke 
 very kindly to me. Some days after I took my leave of ma- 
 dam, and monsieur went down to the mouth of the river with 
 me, to see me safely on board. He asked the master, Mr. 
 Starkee, a Scotchman, whether I must pay for my passage, 
 and if so, he would pay it himeelf rather than I should have it 
 to pay at my arrival in Boston, but he gave me not a penny. 
 The master told him there was nothing to pay, and that if the 
 owner should make any demand he would pay it himself, 
 rather than a poor prisoner should suffer ; for he was glad to 
 see any English person come out of captivity. 
 
 On the 13th of June, I took my leave of monsieur, and the 
 sloop came to sail for Boston, where we arrived on the 19th of 
 the same, at night. In the morning after my arrival, a youth 
 came on board and asked many questions relating to my cap- 
 tivity, and at length gave me to understand that he was my 
 little brother, who was at play with some other children at 
 Pemmaquid when I was taken captive, and who escaped into 
 the fort at that perilous time. He told me my elder brother, 
 who made his escape from the farm, when it was taken, and 
 our two little sisters, were alive, but that our mother had been 
 dead some years. Then we went on shore and saw our elder 
 brother. 
 
 On the 2d of August, 1689, 1 was taken, and on the 19th of 
 June, 1698, I arrived at Boston ; so that I was absent eight 
 years, ten months, and seventeen days. In all which time, 
 though I underwent extreme difficulties, yet I saw much of 
 Grod's goodness. And may the most powerful and beneficent 
 Being accept of this public testimony of it, and bless my expe- 
 riences to excite others to confide in his all-sufficiency, through 
 the infinite merits of Jesus Christ. 
 
 •'TlJ 
 
 iV> \ 
 
 y I 
 

 ■mr 
 
 106 
 
 
 APPENDIX, containing mitiutes of the employments, public 
 stations, etc., of John Gyles, Esq., commander of the garri- 
 son on St. George's river. 
 
 After my return out of captivity, June 28th, 1698, 1 applied 
 myself to the government for their favor. Soon after I was 
 employed by old father Mitchel, of Maiden, to go as his inter- 
 preter on trading account to St. John's river. 
 
 October 14th, 1698, I was employed by the government, 
 Lieutenant Governor Stoughton commander-in-chief, to go as 
 interpreter, at three pounds per month, with Major Converse 
 and old Capt. Alden to Penobscot to fetch captives. At our 
 return to Boston I was dismissed ; but within a few days the 
 governor sent for me to interpret a conference with Bomma- 
 zeen, and other Indians then in jail. 
 
 Some time after I was again put in pay in order to go inter- 
 preter with Col. Phillips and Capt. Southack, in the province 
 galley, to Casco bay, to exchange said Indians [Bommazeen 
 and others] for English captives. In December, 1698, we 
 returned to Boston with several captives which we had libe- 
 rated, and I was dismissed the service, and desired to attend it 
 in the spring. I pleaded to be kept in pay that I might have 
 wherewith to support myself at school. I went into the coun- 
 try, to Rowley, where boarding was cheap, to practise what 
 little I had attained at school. 
 
 March, 1699. With the little of my wages that I could 
 reserve, I paid for my schooling and board, and attended the 
 service upon request, and was again put into pay, and went 
 with Col. Phillips and Maj. Converse in a large brignntine up 
 Kennebeck river for captives, and at our return to Boston the 
 province galley being arrived from New York with my lord 
 Bellemont, and the province truck put on board, I was ordered 
 on board the galley. We cruised on the eastern shore ; and 
 in November, 1699, 1 was put out of pay, though I pleaded to 
 be continued in it, seeing I must attend the service in the 
 spring, and be at considerable expense in the winter for my 
 schooling. 
 
 In the spring of 1700, 1 attended the service, and was under 
 pay again. On August 27th, a fort was ordered to be built at 
 Casco bay, which was finished on the 6th of October following, 
 and the province truck landed, and I was ordered to reside 
 there as interpreter, with a captain, &c. Not long after. Gov. 
 Dudley sent me a lieutenant's commission, with a memoran- 
 dum on its back, " No further pay but as interpreter at three 
 pounds per month." 
 
 I 
 
 Aug 
 fort for 
 16th o 
 ince g( 
 
 Ma^ 
 directii 
 an exp( 
 I returi 
 ment f 
 garriso] 
 
 Apri 
 garrisoi 
 was gri 
 present( 
 Saltons 
 in ordei 
 tion un( 
 which 
 
 May 
 to Port 
 brought 
 
 In 17 
 orders ti 
 to join 
 received 
 my lieut( 
 exchang( 
 Thomas 
 were all 
 me to de 
 [Gov. D 
 ers withi 
 demand 
 I was or< 
 resented 
 spring, a 
 had retu 
 made pr 
 ticular ir 
 company 
 
 Accor( 
 by Gov. 
 Soon aft( 
 
 *AfuU 
 Church's 1 
 the editor ( 
 
.- ^ 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 107 
 
 August 10th, 1703. The French and Indians besieged our 
 fort for six days. (Major March was our commander.) On the 
 16th of the same month, Capt. Southack arrived in the prov- 
 ince galley, and in the night following the enemy withdrew. 
 
 May 19th, 1704. I received a few lines from his excellency 
 directing me to leave my post, and accompany Col. Church on 
 an expedition round the bay of Fundy.* September following 
 I returned to my post, without any further wagu s or encourage- 
 ment for that service than the beforementioued pay at the 
 garrison. 
 
 April, 1706. There was a change of the chief officer at our 
 garrison. I chose to be dismissed with my old officer, which 
 was granted. The same year his excellency Gov. Dudley 
 presented me with a captain's commission, and ordered Colonel 
 Saltonstall to detach fifty effective men to be delivered to me 
 in order for a march. In May, 1707, 1 entered on an expedi- 
 tion under Col. March, for Port Royal, at the termination of 
 which I was dismissed. 
 
 May 12th, 1708, 1 received orders from his excellency to go 
 to Port Hoyal with a flag of truce to exchange prisoners, and 
 brought off all. At my return I was dismissed the service. 
 
 In 1709, 1 received a commission, and Colonel Noyes had 
 orders to detach forty men, whom he put under me, with orders 
 to join the forces for Canada. At Hull, August 1st, 1709, 1 
 received orders from his excellency to leave my company with 
 my lieutenants, and go to Port Royal with a flag of truce to 
 exchange prisoners. I went in the sloop Hannah and Ruth, 
 Thomas Waters, master. I had nine French prisoners, which 
 were all that were in our governor's hands. These he ordered 
 me to deliver to Gov. Supercass, " and to let him know that he 
 [Gov. Dudley] expected him to deliver all the English prison- 
 ers within his power, within six days, which I was ordered to 
 demand and insist upon, agreeably to his promise last year." 
 I was ordered to observe to him that Governor Dudley highly 
 resented his breach of promise in not sending th^sm early this 
 spring, according to his parole of honor, by myself, when we 
 had returned him upwards of forty of his people, and had 
 made provision for bringing home ours; and to make par- 
 ticular inquiry after Capt. Myles, and to demand his and his 
 company's release also. 
 
 Accordingly, arriving at Port Royal, I was kindly entertained 
 by Gov. Supercass ; brought off above one hundred prisoners. 
 Soon after my return our forces were dismissed, and I received 
 
 '*' A full account of this expedition under Col. Church will be found in 
 Church's History of King Philip's War, &c. ed. 12mo., Boston, 1827, by 
 the editor of this. 
 
 i J 
 

 «! 
 
 108 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 rl 
 
 u 
 
 I i V 
 
 \\ 
 
 ! .' 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 , / 
 ^1 
 
 no other consideration for my service than pay as captain of 
 ray company. 
 
 August, 1715. I was desired, and had great promises made 
 me by the proprietors, and received orders from his excellency 
 to build a fort at Pejepscot, [now Brunswick, Me.] Soon after 
 our arrival there the Indians came in the night, and forbid our 
 laying one stone upon another. I told them I came with 
 orders from Governor Dudley to build a fort, and if they dis- 
 liked it they might acquaint him with it ; and that if they 
 came forcibly upon us, they or I should fall on the spot. After 
 such like hot words they left us, and we went on with our 
 building, and finished it, November 25th, 1715, and our car- 
 penters and masons left us. My wages were very small, yet 
 the gentlemen propritjtors ordered me only five pounds for my 
 good services, &;c. 
 
 July 12th, 1722, a number of Indians engaged fort George 
 about two hoursj killing one person, and then drew off to kill- 
 ing cattle, &c. 
 
 April, 1725, I received orders from his honor Lieut. Gov. 
 Dummer to go ten days' march up Ammiscoggin river, and in 
 my absence the Indians killed two men at our fort. I received 
 ho further pay for said service, only the pay of the garrison. 
 
 December 12th, 1725, I was dismissed from fort George, 
 and Gapti Woodside received a commission for the command 
 of that place. 
 
 December 13th, 1725, I was commissioned for the garrison 
 at St. Gfeorge river. 
 
 September, 1726. I was detained some months from my 
 
 {lost, by order of Gov. Dummer, to interpret for the Cape Sable 
 ndians, who were brought in and found guilty.* There was 
 no other person in the province that had their language. His 
 honor and the honorable council presented me with ten pounds 
 for this service, which I gratefully received. 
 
 Nov. 28th, 1728, 1 was commissioned for the peace. 
 I have had the honor to serve this province under eight 
 commanders in chief, governors, and lieutenant governors, from 
 the year 1698 to the year 1736 ; and how much longer my 
 services may continue I submit to the Governor of the world, 
 who overrules every circumstance of life, which relates to 
 our happiness and usefulness, as in infinite wisdom he sees 
 meet. 
 
 ♦ There -were five of them belonging to the St. Francis tribe. The> 
 had seized on a vessel at Newfoundland belonging to Plymouth. The 
 act being considered piracy, they were all executed at Boston. — (Ed.) 
 MS. Ckrotudts of tite Jndians. 
 
 OP EXCES 
 STRUG' 
 HAMPS 
 VIZ., TI 
 YEARS' 
 PORTW 
 MAGNA! 
 MATHEI 
 
 When tl 
 New Engli 
 The wise r 
 urging thej 
 fortification 
 and Salmoi 
 aqua ri/er, : 
 the particuli 
 tied The B 
 ferred. 
 
 But, as hi 
 
 the people d 
 
 continued, t] 
 
 dream of a i 
 
 more than fi 
 
 call the wors 
 
 to tell what i 
 
 the family ol 
 
 pious wife a 
 
 others of th( 
 
 these arrived 
 
 and the most 
 
 ■ >*---'aiIj:-t^-lj,lV'j.!'™ ..Slivi-i&^i' 
 
 .^^^j^Bii^MiM. 
 
"T^ 
 
 he 
 
 BURNING OF ROBERT ROGERS. 
 
 Be calm, my Delius, and serene, 
 
 However fortune change the scene. 
 
 In thy most dejected state, 
 
 Sink not underneath the weight ; 
 
 Nor yet when happy days begin, 
 
 And the full tide comes rolling in, 
 
 Let not a fierce unruly joy 
 
 The settled quiet of thy mind destroy. 
 
 However fortune change the scene. 
 
 Be calm, my Delius, and serene. — Hokaob. 
 
 109 
 
 THREE NARRATIVES s 
 
 OP EXCESSIVE DISTRESS OP PERSONS TAKEN AT THE DE- 
 STRUCTION OF SALMON PAI LS, IN THE STATE OP NEW 
 HAMPSHIRE, ON THE TWENTY-SEVENTH OP MARCH, 1690; 
 VIZ., THE CRUEL TORTURE OP ROBERT ROGERS, THE PIVE 
 YEARS' CAPTIVITY OP MEHETABLE GOODWIN, AND THE 
 PORTUNATE ESCAPE OP THOMAS TOOGOOD. PROM THE 
 MAGNALIA CHRISTI AMERICANA, OP DOCTOR COTTON 
 MATHER. 
 
 When the news of the destruction of Schenectady reached 
 New England, it spread great alarm over the whole country. 
 The wise men gave particular caution to all the frontier posts, 
 urging them to keep strict watch, and to make strong their 
 fortifications ; but the people in the east did not their duty, 
 and Salmon Falls, a fine settlement upon a branch of Pascat- 
 aqua river, fell into the hands of an infuriated and cruel enemy ; 
 the particulars whereof are at large set forth in the work enti- 
 tled The Book of the Indians, to which we have before re- 
 ferred. 
 
 But, as has been observed, notwithstanding these warnings 
 the people dreamed, that while the deep snow of the winter 
 continued, they were safe enough, which proved as vain as a 
 dream of a dry summer. Near thirty persons were slain, and, 
 more than fifty were led into what the reader will by and by 
 call the worst captivity in the world. It would be a lon^ story 
 to tell what a particular share in this calamity fell to the lot of 
 the family of one Clement Short. This honest man wiih his 
 pious wife and three children were killed, and six or seven 
 others of their children were made prisoners. The most of 
 these arrived safe at Canada, through a thousand hardships, 
 and the most of these were with more than a thousand mei-^ 
 
 10 
 
 
 ll 
 
 in 
 
 \ i 
 
no 
 
 BURNING OF ROBERT ROGERS. 
 
 cies afterwards redeemed from Canada, and returned unto 
 their English friends again. But as we cannot take notice of 
 all the individuals, we will pass to the notice of those named 
 at the commencement of this narrative. 
 
 Among the prisoners was one Robert Rogers, with whom as 
 the Indians journeyed they came to a hill, where this man, 
 (being through his corpulency called Robin Pork) being under 
 such an intolerable and unsupportable burden of Indian lug- 
 gage, was not so able to travel as the rest ; he therefore, 
 watching for an opportunity, made his escape. The wretches 
 missing him, immediately went in pursuit of him, and it was 
 not long before they found his burden cast in the way, and the 
 tracks of his feet going out of the way. This they followed, 
 and found him hid in a hollow tree. They dragged him out, 
 %K stripped him, beat and pricked him, pushed him ^rward with 
 the points of their swords, until they got back to the hill from 
 whence he had escaped. It being almost night, they fastened 
 him to a tree, with his hands behind him, then made them- 
 selves a supper, singing and dancing around him, roaring, and 
 uttering great and many signs of joy, but with joy little enough 
 to the poor creature who foresaw what all this tended to. 
 
 The Indians next cut a parcel of wood, and bringing it into a 
 plain place, they cut off the top of a small red-oak tree, leaving 
 the trunk for a stake, whereunto they bound their sacrifice. 
 They first made a great fire near this tree of death, and 
 bringing Rogers unto it, bid him take his leave of his friends, 
 which he did in a doleful manner, such as no pen, though 
 made of a harpy's quill, were able to describe the dolor of it. 
 They then allowed him a little time to make his prayers unto 
 heaven, which he did with an extreme fervency and agony; 
 whereupon they bound him to the stake, and brought the rest of 
 the prisoners, with their arms tied each to the other, and seat- 
 ed them round the fire. This being done, they went behind 
 the fire, and thrust it forwards upon the man with much laugh- 
 ter and shouting ; and when the fire had burnt some time upon 
 him, even till he was almost suffocated, they pulled away from 
 him, to prolong his existence. They now resumed their dan- 
 cing around him, and at every turn they did with their knives 
 cut coUops of his flesh out of his naked limbs, and throw them 
 with his blood into his face. In this manner was their work 
 continued until he expired. 
 
 Being now dead, they set his body down upon the glowing 
 coals of fire, and thus left him tied with his back to the stake, 
 where he was found by some English forces soon after, who 
 were in pursuit of these Indians. ^ 
 
 Mi 
 of Ini 
 nown 
 montl 
 unabl< 
 ous ar 
 that if 
 which 
 ship* 
 it from 
 up to I 
 it was 
 days p 
 travel 
 should 
 babe 01 
 out its 
 hitherto 
 the bloo 
 sad and 
 neck in 
 lay it in 
 for now 
 had been 
 again, if 
 The Jc 
 far as Ca 
 make me 
 happy ti( 
 want of ] 
 countered 
 difficulties 
 with man^ 
 soul, she i 
 ous exect 
 the devil i 
 bestow a n 
 this poor Ci 
 knees, and 
 agony and 
 longer, and 
 
 * One of 
 among the In 
 
 ^j I need noi 
 
 ■^: 
 
MEHETABLE GOODWIN. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ntoa 
 .ving 
 ifice. 
 and 
 nds, 
 ugh 
 ,f it. 
 unto 
 |ony ; 
 \st of 
 Iseat- 
 thind 
 lugh- 
 lupon 
 Ifrom 
 I dan- 
 lives 
 Ithem 
 Iwork 
 
 Iwing 
 
 Vake, 
 
 who 
 
 Mbhbtablb Goodwin, another of the captives of this hand 
 of Indians, who, it will be proper to notice, were led by the re- 
 nowned Indian chief Hopenood,had a child with her about five 
 months old. This, through hunger and hardship, she being 
 unable to nourish from her breast, occasioned it to make griev- 
 ous and distressing ejaculations. Her Indian master told her 
 that if the child were not quiet he would soon dispose of it, 
 which caused her to use all possible means that his Nttop- 
 ship* might not be offended ; and sometimes she would carry 
 it from the fire out of his hearing, when she would sit down 
 up to her waist in the snow, for several hours together, until 
 it was exhausted and lulled to sleep. She thus for several 
 days preserved the life of her babe, until he saw cause to 
 travel with his own cubs farther afield ; and then, lest he 
 should be retarded in his travel, he violently snatched the 
 babe out of its mother's arms, and before her face knocked 
 out its brains ; and having stripped it of its few rags it had 
 hitherto enjoyed, ordered the mother to go and wash them of 
 the blood wherewith they were stained ! Reluming from this 
 sad and melancholy task, she found the infant hanging by the 
 neck in a forked bough of a tree. She requested liberty to 
 lay it in the earth, but the savage said, " It is better as it is, 
 for now the wild beasts cannot come at it ; " [I am sure they 
 had been at it ;]t *' and you may have the comfort of seeing it 
 again, if ever you come that way." 
 
 The journey now before them was like to be very long, as 
 far as Canada, where Mrs. Goodwin's master's purpose was to 
 make merchandise of her, and glad was she to hear such 
 happy tidings. But the desperate length of the way, and 
 want of food, and grief of mind, wherewith she was now en- 
 countered, caused her within a few days to faint under her 
 difficulties ; when, at length, she sat down for some repose, 
 with many prayers and tears unto God for the salvation of her 
 soul, she found herself unable to rise, until she saw her furi- 
 ous executioner coming towards her with fire in his eyes, 
 the devil in his heart, and his hatchet in his hand, ready to 
 bestow a mercy-stroke of death upon her. Then it was that 
 this poor captive woman, in this extreme misery, got upon her 
 knees, and with weeping and wailing and all expressions of 
 agony and entreaty, prevailed on him to spare her life a little 
 longer, and she did not question but God would enable her to 
 
 * One of Dr. Mather's miserable misapplications of words. NetoP| 
 among the Indians, signified /nentj!. — Ed. 
 
 1 1 need not remind the reader that this is no interpretation of mine. — 
 
 \i 
 
 I 
 
 •5. 
 
 A i ' 
 
112 
 
 THOMAS TOOOOOD. 
 
 * 
 
 { 
 
 walk a little faster. The merciless tyrant was prevailed with 
 to spare her this time ; nevertheless her former weakness 
 quickly returning upon her, he was just going to rnuruer her, 
 when a couple of Indians, just at this momeni c.nuJiig in, 
 called suddenly upon him to hold his hand. At this such a 
 horror surprised his guilty soul, that he ran away from her ; 
 but hearing 'lem call his name, he returned, and then permit- 
 ted iheHc his friends to ransom his prisoner. 
 
 After these events, as we were seated by the side of a river, 
 we heard several guns go off on the opposite side, which the 
 Indians concluded was occasioned by a party of Albany Indians, 
 who were their enemies. Whereupon this bold blade [her old 
 master] would needs go in a canoe to discover what they ^v ore. 
 They fired upon and shot him through, together wiih ••pa- r.J 
 of his friends, before the discovery could be made. Some 
 days after this, divers of his friends gathered a party to re- 
 venge his death on their supposed enemies. With these they 
 soon joined battle, and after several hours* hard fighting were 
 themselves put to the rout. Among the captives which they 
 left in their flight was this poor woman, who was overjoyed, 
 supposing herself now at liberty ; but her joy did not last long, 
 for these Indians were of the same sort as the others, and had 
 been by their own friends, thus through a strange mistake, set 
 upon. 
 
 However, this crew proved more favorable to her than the 
 former, and went away silently with their booty ; being loath 
 to have any noise made of their foul mistake. And yet a few 
 days after, such another mistake happened ; for meeting with 
 another party of Indians, which they imagined were in the 
 English mterest, the) also furiously engaged each other, and 
 many were killed and wounded on both sides ; but the con- 
 querors proved to be a party of French Indians this time, who 
 took this poor Mrs. Goodwm and presented her to the French 
 captain of tha party, by whom she was carried to Canada, 
 where she continued five years. After vvhlcli tihe was brought 
 safely back to New England. 
 
 Thomas Toogood's short narrative is introduced to relieve 
 the reader from the contemplation of blood and misery. At 
 the same time the other captives were taken, three Indians 
 hotly pursued this man, and one of them overtaking him, while 
 *he rpst perceiving it, staid behind the hill, having seen him 
 quif'iiy yield himself a prisoner. While the Indian was get- 
 titig out his .strings to bind his prisoner, he held his gun under 
 liis arm, which Toogood observing, suddenly sprang and 
 wrested it from him ; and momentarily presenting it at the 
 
 Indiai 
 noise, 
 readei 
 poor 
 withoi 
 him o( 
 for th( 
 Indian^ 
 at the 
 ted, or 
 
 Mar 
 
 that tim 
 ferings 
 sickness 
 she was 
 length 
 cruel rnd 
 river ! 
 
 GOD'S 
 
 EXEMPLI! 
 
 RANGE 
 
 OP KN( 
 
 WHO W 
 
 MAID-SF 
 
 THE VE 
 
 mouth, am 
 
 delphia: r 
 
 next the B 
 
 nuiufier of 
 
 Rags. 
 
 [i:>'Thise( 
 
 at Dover, IV 
 
 of 17SP Th 
 
 Wents m taei 
 
 Fariiv - upon 
 
 some OCT hi ill 
 
 son -Hjniiy. , 
 
 Jav. jeen taki 
 
 happened on t 
 
 "wr to the Ne 
 
 Chronology as 
 
 
ELBAnKTH HANSONS CAPTIVITV. 
 
 113 
 
 Indian, protested ho wnnu l , . 
 
 "oi«. /nd »o .r.; ho ?;„'':i'"'" <''>"" 'f Pomade the le.„ 
 reader be now i„ -li^ed to"?,,!! 'I ""'." Q-^hecho. If " 
 poor Tsgtim Innb,.,, :..." '•.""''^' "'''en he think, h^... JL"\y 
 
 reader b;-;;;": ^ "tj"" ll"" 'i ""'» Q-'^h h; If'™ 
 
 £he?a t:iS iS^^^^^^^^^ ff - 
 
 'ed^or have been guiity of rnti.'.inrLrblu'Jdr '^ °"«'- 
 
 'ha^'ime Tnd'S, bm ^X'^f"' "•« ."•"■««""".« captives a, 
 fenngs are related sL ft i. " Pan'^ulara of extrem. If 
 •ickncss but three weft' tt^l" »"' "f h" bed „77amSt 
 
 
 EXEMPLIFIED IIV THP r^inmw, 
 
 RANGE OP RlJ^BETH ri^'^'^ ^^^ SURPRISING DET iv.. 
 
 ICT" Thh edition of Mrs Wo„o . 
 
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114 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 doubt of the correctness of the date in the narrative, myself, but mention 
 the fact, that some brother antiquary may have the pleasure which may 
 accrue from an investigation. — Ed. 
 
 I 
 
 Remakkable and many are the providences of God towards 
 his people for their deliverance in a time of trouble, by which 
 we may behold, as in lively characters, the truth of that saying, 
 " That he is a God near at hand, and always ready to help and 
 assist those that fear him and put their confidence in him." 
 
 The sacred writings give us instances of the truth hereof in 
 days of old, as in the cases of the Israelites, Job, David, Dan- 
 iel, Paul, Silas, and many others. Besides which, our modern 
 histories have plentifully abounded with instances of God's, 
 fatherly care over his people, in their sharpest trials, deepest 
 distresses, and sorest exercises, by which we may know he is 
 a God that changeth not, but is the same yesterday, to-day and 
 forever. 
 
 Among the many modern instances, I think I have not met 
 with a more singular one of the mercy and preserving hand of 
 God, than in the case of Elizabeth Hanson, wife of John 
 Hanson, of Knoxmarsh,* in Kecheachy, [Cochecho] in Dover 
 township, in New England, who was taken into captivity the 
 twenty-seventh day of the sixth month, called June, 1724, and 
 carried away (with four children and a servant) by the Indians; 
 which relation, as it was taken from her own mouth, by a friend, 
 is as follows: 
 
 As soon as the Indians discovered themselves, (having, as we 
 afterwards understood, been skulking in the fields some days, 
 watching their opportunity, when my dear husband, with the 
 rest of our men, were gone out of the way,) two of them came 
 in upon us, and then eleven more, all naked, with their guns 
 and tomahawks, and in a great fury killed one child immedi- 
 ately, as soon as they entered the door, thinking thereby to 
 strike in us the greater terror, and to make us more fearful of 
 them. After which, in like fury, the captain came up to me ; 
 but at my request he gave me quarter. There were with me 
 our servant and six of our children ; two of the little ones being 
 at play about the orchard, and my youngest child, but fourteen 
 days old, whether in cradle or arms, I now remember not. 
 Being in this condition, I was very unfit for the hardships 1 
 after met with, which I shall endeavor briefly to relate. 
 
 They went to rifling the house in a great hurry, (fearing, as 
 I suppose, a surprise from our people, it being late in the after- 
 noon,) and packed up some linen, woollen and what other 
 
 * A name, the use of which was long since discontinued. — Ed. . 
 
 no resisi 
 
 In thi 
 
 having s 
 
 could go 
 
 a load as 
 
 for all th 
 
 be a favo 
 
 and some 
 
 like a ror 
 
 We go 
 
 house in 
 
 fire, some 
 
ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 115 
 
 things pleased them best, and when they had done what they 
 would, they turned out of the house immediately ; and while 
 they were at the door, two of my younger children, one six, 
 and the other four years old, came in sight, and being under 
 a great surprise, cried aloud, upon which one of the Indians 
 running to them, took them under the arms, and brought them 
 to us. My maid prevailed with the biggest to be quiet and 
 still ; but the other could by no means be prevailed with, but 
 continued shrieking and crying very much, and the Indians, to 
 ease themselves of the noise, and to prevent the danger of a 
 discovery that might arise from it, immediately, before my face, 
 knocked his brains out. I bore this as well as I could, not 
 daring to appear disturbed or to show much uneasiness, lest 
 they should do the same to the others ; but should have been 
 exceeding glad if they had kept out of sight until we had gone 
 from the house. 
 
 Now having killed two of my children, they scalped them, 
 (a practice common with these people, which is, whenever they 
 kill any enemies, they cut the skin off from the crown of their 
 heads, and carry it with them for a testimony and evidence 
 that they have killed so many, receiving sometimes a reward 
 for every scalp,) and then put forward to leave the house in 
 great haste, without doing any other spoil than taking what 
 they had packed together, with myself and little babe, fourteen 
 days old, the boy six years, and two daughters, the one about 
 fourteen and the other about sixteen years, with my servant 
 
 girl. 
 
 It must be considered, that I having lain in but fourteen days, 
 and being but very tender and weakly, and removed now out 
 of a good room, well accommodated with fire, bedding, and 
 other things suiting a person in my condition, it made these 
 hardships to me greater than if I had been in a strong and 
 healthy frame ; yet, tor all this, I must go or die. There was 
 no resistance. 
 
 In this condition aforesaid we left the house, each Indian 
 having something ; and I with my babe and three children that 
 could go of themselves. The captain, though he had as great 
 a load as he could well carry, and was helped up with it, did, 
 for all that, carry my babe for me in his arms, which I took to 
 be a favor from him. Thus we went through several swamps 
 and some brooks, they carefully avoiding all paths of any track 
 like a road, lest by our footsteps we should be followed. 
 
 We got that night, I suppose, not quite ten miles from our 
 liouse in a direct line ; then taking up their quarters, lighted a 
 fire, some of them lying down, while others kept watch. I 
 
116 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 being both wet and weary, and lying on the cold ground in the 
 open woods, took but little rest. 
 
 However, early in the morning, we must go just as the day 
 appeared, travelling very hard all that day through sundry 
 rivers, brooks and swamps, they, as before, carefully avoiding 
 all paths for the reason already assigned. At night, I was botl* 
 wet and tired exceedingly ; havinr the same lodging on the 
 cold ground, in the open woods, /hus, for twenty-six days, 
 day by day we travelled very hard, sometimes a little by water, 
 over lakes and ponds ; and in this journey we went up some 
 high mountains, so steep that I was forced to creep up on my 
 hards and knees ; under which difficulty, the Indian, my mas- 
 ter, would mostly carry my babe for me, which I took as a 
 great favor of God, that his heart was so tenderly inclined to 
 assist me, though he had, as it is said, a very heavy burden 
 of his own ; nay, he would sometimes take mv very blanket, 
 so that I had nothing to do but to take my little boy by the 
 hand for his help, and assist him as well as I could, taking him 
 up in my arms a little at times, because so small j and when 
 we came to very bad places, he would lend me his hand, or 
 coming behind, would push me before him ; in all which, he 
 showed some humanity and civility, more than I could have 
 expected : for which privilege I was secretly thankful to God, 
 as the moving cause thereof. 
 
 Next to this we had some very great runs of water and 
 brooks to wade through, in v/hich at times we met with much 
 difficulty, wading often to our middles, and sometimes our girls 
 were up to their shoulders and chins, the Indians carrying my 
 boy on their shoulders. At the side of one of these runs or 
 rivers, the Indians would have my eldest daughter, Sarah, to 
 sing them a song. Then was brought into her remembrance 
 that passage in the 137th Psalm, " By the rivers of Babylon," 
 [&c.] When my poor child had given me this account, it was 
 very affecting, and my heart was very full of trouble, yet on 
 my child's account I was glad that she had so good an incli- 
 nation, which she yet further manifested in loiij^ing for a Bible, 
 that we might have the comfort of reading the holy text at 
 vacant times, for our spiritual comfort under our present afflic- 
 tion. 
 
 Next to the difficulties of the rivers, v/ere the prodigious 
 swamps and thickets, very difficult to pass through, in which 
 places my master would sometimes lead me by the hand, a 
 great way together, and give me what help he was capable of, 
 under the straits we went through; and we, passing, one 
 after another, the first made it pretty passable for the hindmost. 
 
 But tlie greatest difficulty, that deserves the first to be namedt 
 
 A 
 
ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 117 
 
 l; W'' 
 
 to 
 
 IC- 
 
 was want of food, having at times nothing to eat but pieces of 
 old beaver-skin match-coats, which the Indians having hid, (for 
 they came naked as is said before,) which in their going back 
 again they took with them, and they were used more for food 
 than raiment. Being cut into long narrow straps, they gave 
 us little pieces, which by the Indians' example we laid on the 
 fire until the hair was singed away, and then we ale them as 
 a sweet morsel, experimentally knowing " that to the hungry 
 soul every bitter thing is sweet." 
 
 It is to be considered further, that of this poor diet we had 
 but very scanty allowance ; so that we were in no danger of 
 being overcharged. But that which added to my trouble, was 
 the complaints of my poor children, especially the little boy. 
 Sometimes the Indians would catch a squirrel or beaver, and 
 at other times we met with nuts, berries, and roots which they 
 digged out of the ground, with the bark of some trees ; but we 
 had no corn for a great while together, though some of the 
 younger Indians went back and brought some corn from the 
 English inhabitants, (the harvest not being gathered,) of which 
 we had a little allowed us. But when they caught a beaver, 
 we lived high while it lasted ; they allowed me the guts and 
 garbage for myself and children ; but not allowing us to clean 
 and wash them, as they ought, made the food very irksome to 
 us to feed upon, and nothing besides pinching hunger could 
 have made it any way tolerable to be borne. 
 
 The next difficulty was no less hard to me ; for my daily 
 travel and hard living made my milk dry almost quite up, and 
 how to preserve my poor babe's life was no small care on my 
 mind ; having no other sustenance for her, many times, but 
 cold water, which I took in my mouth, and let it fall on my 
 breast, when I gave her the teat to suck in, with what k could 
 get from the breast ; and when I had any of the broth of the 
 beaver's guts, or other guts, I fed my babe with it, at^^pi^c^i 
 as I could I preserved her life until I got to Canada, i^tht^th^n 
 I had some other food, of which, more in its place. 
 
 Having by this time got considerably on the w^ay, the Indians 
 parted, and v/e were divided amongst them. This was a sore 
 giief to us all ; but we must submit, and no way to help our- 
 selves. My eldest daughter was first taken away, and carried 
 to another part of the country, far distant from us, where for 
 the present we must take leave of her, though with a heavy 
 heart. 
 
 We did not travel far after this, before they divided again, 
 taking my second daughter and servant maid, from me, into 
 another part of the country. So, I having now only my babe 
 at my breast, and little boy six years old, we remained with 
 
118 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 , 
 
 the captain still. But my daughter and servant underwent 
 great hardships after they were parted from me, travelling three 
 days without any food, taking nothing for support but cold 
 water ; and the third day, what with the cold, the wet, and 
 hunger, the servant fell down as dead in a swoon, being both 
 very cold and wet, at which the Indians, with whom they were, 
 were surprised, showing some kind of tenderness, being unwil- 
 ling then to lose them by death, having got them so near home ; 
 hoping, if they lived, by their ransom to make considerable 
 profit of them. 
 
 In a few days after this, they got near their journey's end, 
 where they had more plenty of corn, and other food. But 
 flesh often fell very short, having no other way to depend on 
 for it but hunting; and when that failed, they had very short 
 commons. It was not long ere my daughter and servant were 
 likewise parted, and my daughter's master being sick, was not 
 able to hunt for flesh ; neither had they any corn in that place, 
 but were forced to eat bark of trees for a whole week. 
 
 Being almost famished in this distress, Providence so order- 
 ed that some other Indians, hearing of their misery, came to 
 visit them, (these people being very kind and helpful to one 
 another, which is very commendable,) and brought to them the 
 guts and liver of a beaver, which aflbrdcd them a good repast, 
 being but four in number, the Indian, his wife and daughter, and 
 my daughter. 
 
 By this time my master and our company got to our jour- 
 ney's end, where we were better fed at times, having some 
 corn and venison, and wild fowl, or what they could catch by 
 hunting in the woods ; and my master having a large family, 
 fifteen in number, we had at times very short commons, more 
 especially when game was scarce. 
 
 But here our lodging was still on the cold ground, in a poor 
 wigwam, (which is a kind of little shelter made with the rind 
 of trees, and mats for a covering, something like a tent.) These 
 are so easily set up and taken down, that they often remove 
 them from one place to another. Our shoes and stockings, 
 and our other clothes, being worn out in this long journey 
 through the bushes and swamps, and the Aveather coming in 
 very hard, we were poorly defended from the cold, for want 
 of necessaries ; which caused one of my feet, one of the little 
 babe's, anH both of the little boy's, to freeze ; and this was no 
 small exercise, yet, through mercy, we all did well. 
 
 Now, though we got to our journey's end, we were never 
 long in one place, but very often removed from one place to 
 another, carrying our wigwams with us, which we could do 
 without much difliculty. This, being fcr the convenience of 
 
ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 119 
 
 to 
 
 I do 
 
 of 
 
 hunting, made our accommodations much more unpleasant, 
 than if we had continued in one place, hy reason the coldness 
 and dampness of the ground, where our wigwams were pitch- 
 ed, made it very unwholesome, and unpleasant lodging. 
 
 Having now got to the Indian fort, many of the Indians 
 came to visit us, and in their way welcomed my master home, 
 and held a great rejoicing, with dancing, firing of guns, heating 
 on hollow trees, instead of drums ; shouting, drinking, and feast- 
 ing after their manner, in much excess, for several days together, 
 which I suppose, in their thoughts, was a kind of thanks to 
 God, put up for their safe return and good success. But while 
 they were in their jollity and mirth, my mind was greatly ex- 
 ercised towards the Lord, that I, with my dear children, sepa- 
 rated from me, might he preserved from repining against God 
 under our afhiction on the one hand, and on the other we 
 might have our dependence on him, who rules the hearts of 
 men, and can do what he pleases in the kingdoms of the earth, 
 knowing that his care is over them who put their trust in him j 
 but I found it very hard to keep my mind as I ought, in the 
 resignation which is proper it should be, under such afflictions 
 and sore trials as at that time I suffered in being under various 
 fears and doubts concerning my children, that were separated 
 from me, which helped to add to and greatly increase my 
 troubles. And here I may truly say, my afflictions are not to 
 be set forth in words to the extent of them. 
 
 We had not been long at home ere my master went a hunt- 
 ing, and was absent about a week, he ordering me in his 
 absence to get in wood, gather nuts, &c. I was very diligent 
 cutting the wood and putting it in order, not having very far 
 to carry it. But when he returned, having got no prey, he 
 was very much out of humor, and the disappointment was so 
 great that he could not forbear revenging it on us poor cap- 
 tives. However, he allowed me a little boiled corn for myself 
 and child, but with a very angry look threw a stick or corn cob 
 at me with such violence as did bespeak he grudged our eat- 
 ing. At this his squaw and daughter broke out into a great 
 crying. This made me fear mischief was hatching against us. 
 I immediately went out of his presence into another wig- 
 wam ; upon which he came after me, and in a great fury tore 
 my blanket off my back, and took my little boy from me, 
 and struck him down as he went along before him ; but the 
 poor child not being hurt, only frightened in the fall, start- 
 ed up and ran away without crying. Then the Indian, my 
 master, left me ; but his wife's mother came and sat down by 
 me, and told me I must sleep there that night. She then going 
 from me a little time, came back with a small skin to cover my 
 
120 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON ci CAPTIVITY. 
 
 feet withal, informing me that my master intended now to kill us, 
 and I, being desirous to know the reason, expostulated, that in 
 his absence I had been diligent to do as I was ordered by him. 
 Thus as well as I could I made her sensible how unreason- 
 able he was. Now, though she could not understand me, nor 
 I her, but by signs, we reasoned as well as we could. She 
 therefore made signs that I must die, advising me, by point- 
 ing up with her fingers, in her way, to pray to God, endeavor- 
 ing by her signs and tears to instruct me in that which was 
 most needful, viz. to prepare for death, which now threatened 
 me : the poor old squaw was so very kind and tender, that she 
 would not leave me all the night, but laid herself down at my 
 feet, designing what she could to assuage her son-in-law's 
 wrath, who had conceived evil against me, chiefly, as I under- 
 stood, because the want of victuals urged him to it. My rest 
 was little this night, my poor babe sleeping sweetly by me. 
 
 I dreaded the tragical design of my master, looking every 
 hour for his coming to execute his bloody will upon us ; but 
 he being weary with hunting and travel in the woods, having 
 toiled for nothing, went to rest and forgot it. Next morning 
 he applied himself again to hunting in the woods, but I dread- 
 ed his returning empty, and prayed secretly in my heart that 
 he might catch some food to satisfy his hunger, and cool his 
 ill humor. He had not been gone but a little time, when he 
 returned with booty, having shot some wild ducks ; and now 
 he appeared in a better temper, ordered the fowls to be dressed 
 with speed ; for these kind of people, when they have plenty, 
 spend it as freely as they get it, using with gluttony and 
 drunkenness, in two days' time, as much as with prudent man- 
 agement might serve a week. Thus do they live for the most 
 part, either in excess of gluttony and drunkenness, or under 
 great straits of want of necessaries. However, in this plenti- 
 ful time, I felt the comfort of it in part with the family ; hav- 
 ing a portion sent for me and my little ones, which was very 
 acceptable. Now, I thinking the bitterness of death was over 
 for this time, my spirits were a little easier. 
 
 Not long after this he got into the like ill humor again, 
 threatening to take away my life. But I always observed 
 whenever he was in such a temper, he wanted food, and was 
 pinched with hunger. But when he had success in hunting, 
 to take either bears, bucks, or fowls, on which he could fill his 
 belly, he was better humored, though he was naturally of a 
 very hot and passionate temper, throwing sticks, stones, or 
 whatever lay in his way, on every slight occasion. This made 
 me in continual danger of my life ; but God, whose provi- 
 dence is over all his works, so preserved me that I never 
 
 receivec 
 
ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 121 
 
 received any damage from him, that was of any great conse- 
 quence to me ; for which I ever desire to be thankful to my 
 Maker. 
 
 When flesh was scarce we had only the guts and garbage 
 allowed to our part ; and not being permitted to cleanse the 
 guts any other wise than emptying the dung [out], without so 
 much as washing them, as before is noted ; in that filthy pickle 
 we must boil them and eat them, which was very unpleasant. 
 But hunger made . up that difficulty, so that this food, which 
 was very often our lot, became pretty tolerable to a sharp ap- 
 
 5etite, which otherwise could not nave been dispensed with, 
 'hus I considered, none knows what they can undergo until 
 they are tried ; for what I had thought in my own family not 
 fit for food, would here have been a dainty dish and sweet 
 morsel. 
 
 By this time, what with fatigue of spirits, hard labor, mean 
 diet, and often Want of natural rest, I was brought so low, that 
 my milk was dried up, my babe very poor and weak, just skin 
 and bones ; for I could perceive all her joints from one end of 
 the back to the other, and how to get what would suit her 
 weak appetite, I was at a loss ; on which one of the Indian 
 squaws, perceiving my uneasiness about my child, began some 
 discourse with me, in which she advised me to take the ker- 
 nels of walnuts, clean them and beat them with a little water, 
 which I did, and when I had so done the water looked like 
 milk ; then she advised me to add to this water a little of the 
 finest of Indian corn meal, and boil it a little together. I did 
 so, and it became palatable, and was very nourishing to the 
 babe, so that she began to thrive and look well, who was before 
 more like to die than live. I found that with this kind of diet 
 the Indians did often nurse their infants. This was no small 
 comfort to me ; but this comfort was soon mixed with bitter- 
 ness and trouble, which thus happened : my master taking 
 notice of my dear babe's thriving condition, would often look 
 upon her and say when she was fat enough she would be 
 killed, and he would eat her ; and pursuant to his pretence, at a 
 certain time, he made me fetch him a stick that he had pre- 
 pared for a spit to roast the child upon, as he said, which when 
 I had done he made me sit down by him and undress the 
 infant. When the child was naked he felt her arms, legs, and 
 thighs, and told me she was not fat enough yet ; I must dress 
 her again until she was better in case. 
 
 Now, though he thus acted, I could not persuade myself that 
 he intended to do as he pretended, but only to aggravate and 
 afflict me ; neither ever could I think but our lives would be 
 preserved from his barbarous hands, by the overruling power 
 
 ^' fl 
 
 ssaaawsti 
 
132 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 of Him in whose providence I put my trust both day and 
 night. 
 
 A little time after this, my master fell sick, and in his sick- 
 ness, as he lay in his wigwam, he ordered his own son to beat 
 my son ; but the old squaw, the Indian boy's grandmother, 
 would not suffer hinj »o do it : then his father, being provoked, 
 caught up a stick, very sharp at one end, and with great vio- 
 lence threw it from him at my son, and hit him on the breast, 
 with which my child was much bruised, and the pain with the 
 surprise made him turn as pale as death ; I entreating him not 
 to cry, and the boy, though but six years old, bore it with won- 
 derful patience, not so much as in the least complaining, so that 
 the child's patience assuaged the barbarity of his heart : who, 
 no doubt, would have carried his passion and resentment much 
 higher, had the child cried, as always complaining did aggra- 
 vate his passion, and his anger grew hotter upon it. Some 
 little time after, on the same day, he got upon his feet, but far 
 from being well. However, though he was sick, his wife and 
 daughter let me know he intended to kill us, and I was under 
 a fear, unless providence now interposed, how it would end. 
 I therefore put down my child, and going out of his presence, 
 went to cut wood for the fire as I used to do, hoping that would 
 in part allay his passion ; but withal, ere I came to the wig- 
 wam again, I expected my child would be killed in this mad 
 fit, having no other way but to cast my care upon God, who 
 had hitherto helped and cared for me and mine. 
 
 Under this great feud, the old squaw, my master's moth- 
 er-in-law, left him, but my mistress and her daughter abode 
 in the wigwam with my master, and when I came with my 
 wood, the daughter came to me, whom I asked if her father 
 had killed my child, and she made me a sign, no, with a counte- 
 nance that seemed pleased it Avas so ; for instead of his further 
 venting his passion on me and my children, the Lord in whom 
 I trusted did seasonably interpose, and I took it as a merciful 
 deliverance from him, and the Indian was under some sense of 
 the same, as himself did confess to them about him after- 
 wards. 
 
 Thus it was, a little after he got upon his feet, the Lord 
 struck him with great sickness, and a violent pain, aa appeared 
 by the complaint he made in a doleful and hideous manner ; 
 which when I understood, not having yet seen him, I went to 
 another squaw, that was come to see my master, which could 
 both speak and understand English, and inquired of her if 
 my mistress (for so l always called her, and him master) 
 thought that master would die. She answered yes, it was very 
 likely he would, being worse and worse. Then I told her he 
 
ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITy 
 
 123 
 
 Lord 
 ired 
 ler ; 
 
 struck my boy a dreadful blow witbout any provocation at 
 all, and had threatened to kill us all in his fury and passion ; 
 upon which the squaw told me my master had confessed the 
 above abuse he offered my chi-Id, and that the mischief he had 
 done was the cause why God afflicted him with that sickness 
 and pain, and he had promised never to abuse us in such sort 
 more : and after this ne soon recovered, but was not so pas- 
 sionate ; nor do I remember he ever after struck either me or 
 my children, so as to hurt us, or with that mischievous intent 
 as before he used to do. This I took as the Lord's doing, and 
 it was marvellous in my eyes. 
 
 Some few weeks after this, my master made another re- 
 move, having as before made several ; but this was the longest 
 ever he made, it being two days' journey, and mostly upon ice. 
 The first day's journey the ice was bare, but the next day, some 
 snow falling, made it very troublesome, tedious, and difficult 
 travelling ; and I took much damage in often falling ; having 
 the care of my babe, that added not a little to my uneasiness. 
 And the last night when we came to encamp, it being in the 
 night, I was ordered to fetch water ; but having sat awhile on 
 the cold ground, I could neither go nor stand ; but crawling 
 on my hands and knees, a young Indian squaw came to see 
 our people, being of another family, in compassion took the 
 kettle, and knowing where to go, which I did not, fetched the 
 water ^for me. This I took as a great kindness and favor, that 
 her heart was inclined to do me this service. 
 
 I now saw the design of this journey. My master being, as 
 I suppose, weary to keep us, was willing to make what he 
 could of our ransom ; therefore, he went further towards the 
 French, and left his family in this place, where they had a 
 great dance, sundry other Indians coming to our people. This 
 held some time, and while they were in it, I got out of their 
 way in a corner of the wigwam as well [as] I could ; but every 
 time they came by me in their dancing, they would bow my 
 head towards the ground, and frequently kick me with as great 
 fury as they could bear, being sundry of them barefoot, and 
 others having Indian mockosons. This dance held some time, 
 and they made, in their manner, great rejoicings and noise. 
 
 It was not many days ere my master returned from the 
 French ; but he was in such a humor when he came back, he 
 would not suffer me in his presence. Therefore I had a little 
 shelter made with some boughs, they having digged through 
 the snow to the ground, it being prettUdeep. In this hole I 
 and my poor children were put to lod^ ; the weather being 
 very sharp, with hard frost, in the month called January, made 
 it more tedious to me and my children. Our stay was not 
 
 I ' i 
 
^84 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 long in this place before he took me to the French, in order 
 for a chapman. When we came among them I was exposed 
 for sale, and he asked for me 800 livres. But his chapman 
 not complying with his demand, put him in a great rage, 
 offering him but 600 ; he said, in a great passion, if he could 
 not have his demand, he would make a great fire and burn me 
 and the babe, in the view of the town, which was named Fori 
 Royal. The Frenchman bid the Indian make his fire, *' and 
 I will," says he, '* help you, if you think that will do you more 
 good than 600 livres," calling my master fool, and speaking 
 roughly to him, bid him be gone.* But at the same time the 
 Frenchman was civil to me ; and, for my encouragement, bid 
 me be of good cheer, for I should be redeemed, and not go 
 back with them again. 
 
 Retiring now with my master for this nip-^it, the next day I 
 was redeemed for six hundred livres ; and in treating with my 
 master, the Frenchman queried why he asked so much for the 
 child's ransom; urging, when she had her belly full, she 
 would die. My master said, " No, she would not die, having 
 already lived twenty-six days on nothing but water, believing 
 the child to be a devil." The Frenchman told him, " No, the 
 child is ordered for longer life ; and it has pleased God to 
 
 S reserve her to admiration." My master said no, she was a 
 evil, and he believed she worl \ not die, unless they took a 
 hatchet and beat her brains out. Thus ended their discourse, 
 and I was, as aforesaid, with my babe, ransomed for six hun- 
 dred livres ; my little boy, likewise, at the same time, for an 
 additional sum of livres, was redeemed also. 
 
 I now having changed my landlord, my table and diet, as 
 well as my lodging, the French were civil beyond what I could 
 either desire or expect. But the next day after I was re- 
 deemed, the Romish priest took my babe from me, and accord- 
 ing to their custom, they baptized her, urging if she died 
 before that she would be damned, like some of our modern 
 pretended reformed priests, and they gave her a name as 
 pleased them best, which was Mary Ann Frossways, telling 
 me my child, if she now died, would be saved, being baptized ; 
 and my landlord speaking to the priest that baptized her, said, 
 "It would be well, now Frossways was baptized, for her to 
 die, being no^v in a state to be saved," but the priest said, " No, 
 the child having been so miraculously preserved through so 
 many hardships, she may be designed by God for some great 
 work, and by her life being still continued, may much more 
 glorify God than if she should now die." A very sensible 
 remark, and I wish it m \y prove true. 
 
 I having been about five months amongst the Indians, in 
 
 about 
 husban( 
 who wi 
 of our 
 little on 
 he reco 
 by no n\ 
 she was 
 should 
 very civ 
 civility 
 come in 
 Howe 
 them ref 
 poor hus 
 deavors 
 we were 
 our grea 
 ward ov< 
 vant mai 
 ness of '. 
 7th mon 
 home, an 
 and six d 
 In the i 
 derful pri 
 and I hop 
 my mind, 
 duly rega 
 approve n 
 ness of CO 
 who is G< 
 But m] 
 m quiet \ 
 was left 1 
 redemptio 
 out makiii 
 journey at 
 ny with a 
 their child 
 about. B 
 grew wors 
 he should 
 the Lord's 
 given up 
 and sensib 
 
ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAFnVITY. 
 
 125 
 
 lern 
 as 
 ling 
 fed; 
 [aid, 
 to 
 |No, 
 so 
 reat 
 lore 
 lible 
 
 in 
 
 about one month after I got amongst the French, my dear 
 husband, to my unspeakable comfort and joy, came to me, 
 who was now himself concerned to redeem his children, two 
 of our daughters being still captives, and only myself and two 
 little ones redeemed ; and, through great difficulty and trouble, 
 he recovered the younger daughter. But the eldest we could 
 by no means obtain from their hands, for the squaw, to whom 
 she was given, had a son whom she intended my daughter 
 should in time be prevailed with to marry. The Indians are 
 very civil towards their captive women, not offering any in- 
 civility by any indecent carriage, (unless they be much over- 
 come in liquor,) which is commendable in them, so far. 
 
 However; the affections they had for my daughter made 
 them refuse all offers and terms of ransom ; so that, after my 
 poor husband had waited, and made what attempts and en- 
 deavors he could to obtain his child, and all to no purpose, 
 we were forced to make homeward, leaving our daughter, to 
 our great grief, behind us, amongst the Indians, and set for- 
 ward over the lake, with three of our children, and the ser- 
 vant maid, in company with sundry others, and, by the kind- 
 ness of Providence, we got well home on the 1st day of the 
 7th month, 1725. From which it appears I had been from 
 home, amongst the Indians and French, about twelve months 
 and six days. 
 
 In the series of which time, the many deliverances and won- 
 derful providences of God unto us, and over us, hath been, 
 and I hope will so remain to be, as a continued obligation on 
 my i^ind, ever to live in that fear, love, and obedience to God, 
 duly regarding, by his grace, with meekness and wisdom, to 
 approve myself by his spirit, in all holiness of life and godli- 
 ness of conversation, to the praise of him that hath called me, 
 who is God blessed forever. 
 
 But my dear husband, poor man ! could not enjoy himself 
 m quiet with us, for want of his dear daughter Sarah, that 
 was left behind ; and not willing to omit anything for her 
 redemption which lay in his power, he could not be easy with- 
 out making a second attempt ; in order to which, he took his 
 journey about the 19th day of the second month, 1727, in compa- 
 ny with a kinsman and his wife, who went to redeem some of 
 their children, and were so happy as to obtain what they went 
 about. But my dear husband being taken sick on the way, 
 grew worse and worse, as we were informed, and was sensible 
 he should not get over it ; telling my kinsman that if it was 
 the Lord's will he must die in the wilderness, he was freely 
 given up to it. He was under a good composure of mind, 
 
 and sensible to his last moment, and died, as near as we can 
 11* 
 
'I 
 
 126 
 
 ELIZABETH HANSON'S CAPTiyiTY. 
 
 ^ 
 
 judge, in about the half way between Albany and Canada, in 
 my kinsman's arms, and is at rest, I hope, m the Lord : and 
 though my own children's loss is very great, yet I doubt not 
 but his gain is much more ; I therefore desire and pray, that 
 the Lord will enable me patiently to submit to his will in all 
 things he is pleased to suffer to be my lot, while here, ear- 
 nestly supplicating the God and father of all our mercies to 
 be a father to my fatherless children, and give unto them that 
 blessing, which maketh truly rich, and adds no sorrow with 
 it ; that as they grow in years they may grow in grace, and 
 experience the joy of salvation, which is come by Jesus 
 Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen. 
 
 Now, though my husband died, by reason of which his la- 
 bor was ended, yet my kinsman prosecuted the thing, and left 
 no stone unturned, that he thought, or could be advised, was 
 ^proper to the obtaining my daughter's freedom ; but could by 
 no meaofi prevail ; for, as is before said, she being in another 
 .part of the country distant from where I was, and given to an 
 <old squaw, who intended to marry her in time to her son, using 
 what persuasion she could to effect her end, sometimes by fair 
 means, and sometimes by severe. 
 
 In the mean time a Frenchman interposed, and they by per- 
 suasions enticing my child to marry, in order to obtam her 
 freedom, by reason that those captives married by the French 
 are, by that marriage, made free among them, the Indians 
 having then no pretence longer to keep them as captives ; she 
 therefore was prevailed upon, for the reasons afore assigned, 
 to marry, and she was accordingly married to the said French- 
 man. 
 
 Thus, as well, and as near as I can from my memory, (not 
 being capable of keeping a journal,) I have given a short but a 
 true account of some of the remarkable trials and wonderful 
 deliverances which I never purposed to expose; but that I 
 hope thereby the merciful kindness and goodness of God may 
 be magnified, and the reader hereof provoked with more care 
 and fear to serve him in righteousness and humility, and then 
 my designed end and purpose will be answered. 
 
 G. H. 
 
If 
 
 A NARRATIVE 
 
 OF THE CAPTIVITY OP NEHEMIAH HOW, WHO WAS TAKEN 
 iJY THE INDIANS AT THE GREAT MEADOW FORT ABOVE 
 FORT DUMMER, WHERE HE WAS AN INHABITANT, OCTO- 
 BBR llTH, 1745. Giving an account of what he met with in his travelling 
 to Canada, and while he was in prison there. Together with an account of 
 Mr. How'ti death at Canada.— Psalm cxxxvii : 1,2,3, and 4.— Bostons N. 
 E. Printed and sold opposite to the Prison in Queen Street, 1748. 
 
 At the Great Meadow's fort, fourteen miles abova fort Dum- 
 meri October 11th, 1745, where I was an inhabitant, I went out 
 from the fort about fifty rods to cut wood ; and when I had 
 done, I walked towards the fort, but in my way heard the crack- 
 ling of fences behind me, and turning about, saw twelve or 
 thirteen Indians, with red painted heads, running after mc ; on 
 which I cried to God for help, and ran, and hallooed as I ran, 
 to alarm the fort. But by the time I had run ten rods, the 
 Indians came up with me and took hold of me. At the same 
 time the men at the fort shot at the Indians, and killed one on 
 the spot, wounded another, who died fourteen days after he 
 got home, and likewise shot a bullet through the powder-horn 
 of one that had hold of me. They then led me into the swamp 
 and pinioned me. I then committed my case to God, and 
 prayed that, since it was his will to deliver me into the hands 
 of those cruel men, I might find favor in their eyes ; which 
 request God in his infinite mercy was pleased to grant ; for 
 they were generally kind to me while I was with them. Some 
 of the Indians at that time took charge of me, others ran into 
 the field to kill cattle. They led me about half a mile, where 
 we staid in open sight of the fort, till the Indians who were 
 killing cattle came to us, laden with beef. Then they went a 
 little further to a house, where they staid to cut the meat from 
 the bones, and cut the helve off of my axe, and stuck it into 
 the ground, pointing the way we went. 
 
 Then we travelled along the river side, and when we had 
 got about three miles, I espied a canoe coming down on the 
 further side of the river, with David Rugg and Robert Baker, 
 belonging to our fort. I made as much noise as I could, by 
 hammering, &c., that they might see us before the Indians saw 
 them, and so get ashore and escape. But the Indians saw 
 them, and shot across the river, twenty or thirty guns at them, 
 bv which the first-mentioned man was killed, but the other, 
 Robert Baker, got ashore and escaped. Then some of the' 
 Indiana swam across the river and brought the canoe to us; 
 
 t :V» 
 
 •^ 
 
128 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOWS CAPTIVITY. 
 
 having stripped and scalped the dead man, and then we went 
 about a mile further, when we came to another house, where 
 we stopped. While there we heard men running by the bank 
 of the river, whom I knew to be Jonathan Thayer, Samuel 
 Nutting and my son Caleb How. Five of the Indians ran tc 
 head them. My heart asked for them, and prayed to God tr 
 save them from the hands of the enemy. I suppose they hid* 
 under the bank of the river, for tho Indians were gone some 
 time, but came back without them, blessed be God. 
 
 We went about a mile further, where we lodged that night, 
 and roasted the meat they had got. The next day we travel- 
 led very slow, by reason of the wounded Indian, which was a 
 great favor to me. * We lodged the second night against Num- 
 ber Four [since Charlestown, N. H.] The third day we like- 
 wise travelled slowly, and stopped often to rest, and get alon^ 
 the wounded man. We lodged that night by the second small 
 river that runs into the great river against Number Four. 
 
 The fourth day morning the Indians held a piece of bark, 
 and bid me write my name, and how many days we had tra- 
 velled ; '• for," said they '* may be Englishmen will come here." 
 That was a hard day to me, as it was wet and we went over 
 prodigious mountains, so that I became weak and faint ; for I 
 had net eaten the value of one meal from the time I was taken, 
 and that being beef almost raw without bread or salt. When 
 I cdLtne first to the foot of those hills, I thought it was impossi- 
 ble for me to ascend them, without immediate help from God ; 
 therefore my constant recourse was to him for strength, which 
 he was graciously pleased to grant me, and for which I desire 
 to praise him. 
 
 We got that day a little before night to a place where they 
 had a hunting house, a kettle, some beer, Indian corn, and 
 salt. They boiled a good mess of it. I drank of the broth, 
 eat of the meat and corn, and was wonderfully refreshed, so 
 that I felt like another man. The next morning we got up 
 early, and after we had eaten, my master said to me, " You 
 must quick walk to day, or I kill you." I told him I would go 
 as fast as I could, and no faster, if he did kill me. At which 
 an old Indian, who was the best friend I had, took care of me. 
 We travelled that day very hard, and over steep hills, but it 
 being a cool, windy day, I performed it with more ease than 
 before ; yet I was mucn tired before night, but dare not com- 
 plain. 
 
 The next day the Indians gave me a pair of their shoes, so 
 that I travelled with abundant more ease than when I wore my 
 own shoes. I ate but very little, as our victuals were almost 
 spent. When the sun was about two hours high, the Indians 
 
 ease, 
 
NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 189 
 
 so 
 
 ,ns 
 
 scattered to hunt, and they soon killed a fawn, and three small 
 hears, so that we had again meat enough ; some of which we 
 boiled and eat heartily of, by which I felt strong. 
 
 The next day we travelled very hard, and performed it with 
 ease, insomuch that one of the Indians told me I was a very 
 strong man. About three o'clock we came to the lake, where 
 they had five canoes, pork, Indian corn, and tobacco. We got 
 into the canoes, and the Indians stuck up a pole about eight 
 feet long with the scalp of David Rugg on the top of it painted 
 red, with the likeness of eyes and mouth on it. We sailed 
 about ten miles, and then went on shore, and after we had 
 made a fire, we boiled a good supper, and eat heartily. 
 
 The next day we set sail for Crown Point, but when we were 
 within a mile of the place, they went on shore, where were 
 eight or ten French and Indians, two of whom, before I got on 
 shore, came running into the water, knee deep, and pulled me 
 out of the, canoe. There they sung and danced around me a 
 while, when one of them bid me sit down, which I did. Then 
 they pulled off my shoes and buckles, and took them from me. 
 Soon after we went along to Crown Point. When we got there, 
 the people, both French and Indians, were very thick by the 
 water-side. Two of the Indians took me out of the canoe, and 
 leading me, bid me run, which I did, about twenty rods to the 
 fort. The fort is large, built with stone and lime. They led 
 me up to the third loft, where was the captain's chamber. A 
 chair was brought that I might sit by the fire and warm me. 
 Soon after, the Indians that I belonged to, and others that were 
 there, came into the chamber, among whom was one I knew, 
 named Pealtomy. He came and spoke to me, and shook hands 
 with me, and I was glad to see him. He went out, but soon 
 returned and brought to me another Indian, named Amrusus, 
 husband to her who was Eunice Williams, daughter of the late 
 Rev. John Williams, of Deerfield ; he was glad to see me, and 
 I to see him. He asked me about his wife's relations, and 
 showed a great deal of respect to me. 
 
 A while after this, the Indians sat in a ring in the chamber, 
 and Pealtomy came to me, and told me I must go and sing and 
 dance before the Indians. I told him I could not. He told me 
 over some Indian words, and bid me sing them. I told him I 
 could not. With that the rest of the fort who could speak 
 some English, came to me, and bid me sing it in English, which 
 was, " I don't know where I go," which I did, dancing round 
 that ring three times. I then sat down by the fire. The priest 
 came to me, and gave me a dram of rum, and afterwards the 
 captain brought me part of a loaf of bread and a plate of butter^ 
 and asked me to eat, which I did heartily, for I had not eaten 
 
 i'i 
 
 — .. .JUjl. 
 
130 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 any bread from the time I was taken till then. The French 
 
 ?riest and all the officers showed me a great deal of respect, 
 ^he captain gave me a pair of good buck-skin shoes, and the 
 friest fixed them on my feet. We staid there that night, and 
 slept with the priest, captain and lieutenant. The lieutenant's 
 name was Ballock ; he had been a prisoner at Boston, and had 
 been at Northampton and the towns thereabouts. This day, 
 which was the Sabbath, I was well treated by the French offi- 
 cers, with victuals and drink. We tarried there till noon, then 
 went off about a mile, and put on shore, where they staid the 
 most of the day ; and having rum with them, most of thera 
 were much liquored. Pealtomy and his squaw, and anb^er 
 Indian family, went with us, and by them I found out thai Wil- 
 liam Phips killed an Indian, besides him we wounded before 
 he was killed ; for an Indian who was with us asked me if 
 there was one killed near our fort last summer. I told him I 
 did not know. He said he had a brother who went out then, 
 and he had not seen him since, and had heard he was killed at 
 our fort, and wanted to knotv if it was true. But I did not 
 think it best to tell him any such thing was suspected. 
 
 The Indians now got into a frolic, and quarrelled about me, 
 and made me sit in the canoe by the water- side. I was afraid 
 they v/ould hurt if not kill me. They attempted to come to 
 me, but the sober Indians hindered them that were in liquor. 
 Pealtomy seeing the rout, went to the fort, and soon after, Lieut. 
 Ballock, with some soldiers, came to us, and when the Indians 
 were made easy, they went awaj'. We lodged there that night, 
 and the next day was a stormy day of wind, snow and rain, so 
 that we were forced to tarry there that day and the next night. 
 In this time the Indians continued fetching rum from the fort, 
 and kept half drunk Here I underwent some hardship by 
 staying there so long in a storm without shelter or blanket. 
 They had a great dance that night, and hung up David Rugg's 
 scalp on a pole, dancing round it. After they had done, they 
 lay down to sleep. 
 
 The next morning, which was the tenth day from the time 
 of my being taken, we went off in the canoe, and the night 
 after we arrived at the wide lake, and there we staid that night. 
 Some of the Indians went a hunting, and killed a fat deer, so 
 that we had victuals plenty, for we had a full s'jpply of bread 
 given us at the fort at Crown Point. 
 
 The next morning the wind being calm, ^/e set out about 
 two hours before day, and soon after came to a schooner lying 
 at anchor. We went on board her, and the French treated us 
 very civilly. They gave each of us a dram of rum, and vict- 
 uals to eat. As soon as it was day we left the schooner, and 
 
 two h 
 
 to Sh 
 
 Frenc 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Frenc 
 
 could 
 
 Igott 
 
 bid m( 
 
 then 
 
NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 131 
 
 ht. 
 
 so 
 
 3ad 
 
 us 
 
 two hours before sunset got over the lake, and next day came 
 to Shamballee [Chamblee,*] where we met three hundred 
 French and two hundred Indians, who did the mischief about 
 Mr. Lydin's fort.t I was taken out of the canoe by two 
 Frenchmen, and fled to a house about ten rods off as fast as I 
 could run, the Indians flinging snow-balls at me. As soon as 
 I got to the house, the Indians stood round me very thick, and 
 bid me sing and dance, which I did with them, in their way ; 
 then they gave a shout, and left off. Two of them came to 
 me, one of whom smote m? on one cheek, the other on the 
 other, which .made the ^lood run plentifully. Then they bid 
 messing and dance age , which I did with them, and they with 
 mej shouting as before. Then two Frenchmen took me under 
 . each arm, and ran so fast that the Indians could not keep up 
 with us Jo hurt 'me. We ran about forty rods to another house, 
 where a chair was brought for me to sit down. The house 
 was soon full of French and Indians, and others surrounded it, 
 and some were looking in to the windows. A French gentle- 
 man came to me, took me by the hand, and led me into a small 
 room, where none came in but such as he admitted. He gave 
 me victuals and drink. Several French gentlemen and Indians 
 came in and were civil to me. The Indians who came in 
 could speak English, shook hands with me, and called me 
 brother. They told me they were all soldiers, and were going 
 to New England. They said they should go to my town, 
 which was a great damp to my spirits, till I heard of their re- 
 turn, where they had been, and what they had done. A while 
 after this, the Indians whom I belonged to came to me and 
 told me v/e must go. I went with them. After going down 
 the river about two miles, we came to the thickest of the town, 
 where was a large fort built v/^h stone and lime, and very 
 large and fine houses in it. Here was the general of the army 
 I spoke of before. He asked me what news from London and 
 Boston. I told him such stories as I thought convenient, and 
 omitted the rest, and then went down to the canoes. Some of 
 the Indians went and got a plenty of bread and beef, which 
 they put into the canoes, and then we went into a French house, 
 where we had a good supper. There came in several French 
 gentlemen to see me, who were civil. One of them gave me 
 a crown, sterling. We lodged there till about two hours before 
 day, when we arose, and went down the river. I suppose we 
 
 *A fort on a fine river of the same name, about fifteen miles south-west 
 of Montreal. — Ed. 
 
 fNov. 16, 1745, Saratoga, a Dutch village of ihirtjr families, is destroy 
 ed by the Indians and French. They burnt a fort, killed many, and car 
 ried away others of the inhabitants. — MS. Chronicles of the Indians. 
 
Jk 
 
 \ 
 
 •*?Si 
 
 ^•-:; 
 
 132 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOWS CAPTIVITY. 
 
 jl . went a hundred miles that day, which brought us into a great 
 
 river, called Quebec. We lodged that night in a French hous3, 
 and were civilly treated. 
 
 The next day we went down the river, and I was carried 
 before the governor there, which was the Sabbath, and the 16th 
 day after my being taken. We staid there about three hours, 
 and were well treated by the French. The Indians were then 
 ordered to carry me down to Quebec, which was ninety miles 
 further. We went down the river about ^hree miles that 
 night, then going on shore, lodged the remainder of the night. 
 .^ The next morning we set off, and the second day, which 
 
 was the 18th from the time I was taken, we arrived at Que- 
 bec. The land is inhabited on both sides of the river from the 
 lake to Quebec, which is at least two hundred miles, especially 
 below Chamblee, very thick, so that the houses are within sight 
 of one another all the way. 
 
 But to return : After we arrived at Quebec, I was carried 
 up into a large chamber, which was full of Indians, who were 
 civil to me. Many of the French came in to see me, and 
 were also very kind. I staid there about two hours, when a 
 French gentleman, who could speak good English, came in 
 and told me I must go with him to the governor, which I did ; 
 and after answering a great many questions, and being treated 
 with as much bread and wine as I desired, I was sent v/ith an 
 officer to the guard-house, and led into a small room, where 
 was an Englishman named William Stroud, a kinsman of the 
 Hon. Judge Lynd,* in New England. He belonged to South 
 Carolina, and had been at Quebec six years. The governor 
 kept him confined for fear he should leave him and go to New 
 Englani^, and discover their strength. Mr. Stroud and I were 
 kept in the guard-house one week, with a sufficiency of food 
 and drink. The French gentlemen kept coming in to see me, 
 and I was very civilly treated by them. I had the better op- 
 portunity of discoursing with them, as Mr. Stroud was a good 
 interpreter. 
 
 After this we were sent to prison, where I found one James 
 Kinlade, who was taken fourteen days before I was, at Sheep- 
 scot, at the eastward, in New England. I was much pleased 
 
 * Judge Ljmd was connected by marriage to the celebrated Gov. Hutch- 
 inson. He presided at the trial of Capt. Preston, commander of the Bri- 
 tish soldiers m Boston, in 1770, who fired upon and killed several citizens. 
 I have a volume of Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, which belonged 
 to Judge Lyiid with the name of the governor in it, in his own hand. 
 In it are numerous notes and corrections throughout, and twenty-fotir MS. 
 
 Eages of additions at the end, in the judge's hand-writing. It seems tc 
 ave been presented for this purpose by the governor. Judge Lyud died 
 a few years after the revolution. 
 
NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 133 
 
 with his conversation, esteeming him a man of true piety. 
 We were kept in prison eight days, with liberty to keep in the 
 room with the prison-keeper. We were daily visited by gen- 
 tlemen and ladies, who showed us great kindness in givmg us 
 money and other things, and their behavior towards us was 
 pleasant. Blessed be God therefor, for I desire to ascribe all 
 the favors I have heen the partaker of, ever since my captivity, 
 to the abundant grace and goodness of a bountiful 6od, as the 
 first cause. 
 
 After this Mr. Kinlade and I were sent to another prison, 
 where were twenty-two seamen belonging to several parts of 
 our king's dominions ; three of them captains of vessels, viz. 
 James Southerland of Cape Cod, William Chipman of Mar- 
 blehead, William Pote of Casco Bay. This prison was a large 
 house, built with stone and lime, two feet thick, and about 
 one hundred and twenty feet long. We had two large stoves 
 in it, and wood enough, so that we could keep ourselves warm 
 in the coldest weather. We had provision sufficient, viz. two 
 pounds of good wheat bread, one pound of beef, and peas 
 answerable, to each man, ready dressed every day. 
 
 When I had been there a few days, the captives desired me 
 to lead them in carrying on morning and evening devotion, 
 which I was willing to do. We had a Bible, psalm-book, and 
 some other good books. Our constant practice was to read a 
 chapter in the Bible, and sing part of a psalm, and to pray, 
 night and morning. 
 
 When I was at the first prison, I was stripped of all my old 
 and lousy clothes, and had other clothing given me from head 
 to foot, and had many kindnesses shown me by those that 
 lived thereabouts ; more especially by one Mr. Corby and his 
 wife, who gave me money there, and brought me many good 
 things at the other prison. But here I was taken ill, as was 
 also most of the other prisoners, with a flux, which lasted 
 near a month, so that I was grown very weak. After that I 
 was healthy, through divine goodness. Blessed be God for it. 
 
 I was much concerned for my country, especially for the 
 place I WiK taken from, by reason that I met an army going 
 thither, as they told me. The 27th day of November we had 
 news come to the prison that this army had returned to Cham- 
 blee, and had taken upwards of a hundred captives, which 
 increased my concern ; for I expected our fort, and others 
 thereabouts, were destroyed. This news put me upon earnest 
 prayer to God that he would give me grace to submit to his 
 will ; after which I was easy in my mind. 
 
 About a fortnight after, a Dutchman was brought to prison, 
 who was one of the captives the said army had taken. He 
 12 
 
M 
 
 ^.. 
 
 134 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 . J- 
 
 rv 
 
 told me they had hurnt Mr. Lydin's fort, and all the houses at 
 that new township, killed Capt. Schuyler and five or six more, 
 and had brought fifty whites and about sixty negroes to Mont- 
 real. I was sorry to hear of so much mischief done, but 
 rejoiced they had not been upon our river, and the towns 
 thereabouts, for which I gave thanks to God for his great good- 
 ness in preserving them, and particularly my family. 
 
 When Christmas came, the governor sent us twenty-four 
 livres, and the lord-intendant came into the prison and gave 
 us twenty-four more, which was about two guineas. He told 
 us he hoped we should be sent home in a little time. He was 
 a pleasant gentleman, and very kind to captives. Some time 
 after, Mr. Shearsy, a gentleman of quality, came to us, and 
 gave to the three sea captains twenty-four livers, and to me 
 twelve, and the next day sent me a bottle of claret wine. 
 About ten days after he sent me twelve livres more ; in all 
 eight pounds, old tenor. 
 
 January 20th, 1746, eighteen captives were brought from 
 Montreal to the prison at Quebec, which is 180 miles. 
 
 February 22d, seven captives more, who were taken at 
 Albany, were brought to the prison to us, viz. six men and one 
 old woman seventy years old, who had been so infirm for 
 seven years past that she had not been able to walk the streets, 
 yet performed this tedious journey with ease. 
 
 March 15th, one of the captives taken at Albany, after four- 
 teen or fifteen days' sickness, died in the hospital at Quebec, 
 — a man of a sober, pious conversation. His name was Law- 
 rence Plaflfer, a German born. 
 
 May 3d, three captives taken at No. Four, sixteen miles 
 above where I was taken, viz. Capt. John SpafToid, Isaac Par- 
 ker, and Stephen Farns worth, were brought to prison to us. 
 They informed me my family was well, a few days before they 
 were taken, which rejoiced me much. I was sorry for the 
 misfortune of these my friends, but was glad of their company, 
 and of their being well used by those who took them. 
 
 May 14th, two captives were brought into prison, Jacob 
 Read and Edward Cloutman, taken at a new township called 
 Gorhamtown, near Casco Bay. They informed us that one 
 man and four children of one of them were killed, and his wife 
 taken at the same time with them, and was in the hands of 
 the Indians.* 
 
 May 16th, two lads, James and Samuel Anderson, brothers, 
 taken at Sheepscot, were brought to prison. Cn the 17th, 
 
 • GorhamtowTt was attacked in the morning of the 19th April, 1746, 
 hf a party of about ten Indians. — MS. Chronicles of the Indians. 
 
 Samu 
 
 New: 
 
 to prii 
 
 sons ( 
 
 da ugh 
 
 of the 
 
 Mai 
 
 at Cor 
 
 Elisha 
 
 were k 
 
 Jun( 
 
 fort G€ 
 
 brough 
 
 Ashuel 
 
 me thi 
 
 Shearlj 
 
 alive. 
 
 June 
 pii.on, 
 about fc 
 five Ind 
 and left 
 the ensi 
 that the 
 June 
 ters whi 
 Lieut. G 
 of Canac 
 hopes of 
 June i 
 were dea 
 there we 
 taken, at 
 who took 
 other pla( 
 wounded 
 dren of tl 
 July 5t 
 might be 
 should be 
 caused gr 
 Berran, o/ 
 an expedi 
 rejoiced uj 
 and who v 
 other place 
 
N2HEMI.AH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 135 
 
 1, 1746, 
 
 Samuel Burbank and David Woodwell, who were taken at 
 New Hopkinton, near Rumford, [Concord, N. H.] were brought 
 to prison, and informed us there were taken with them two 
 sons of the said Burbank, and th? wife, two sons and a 
 daughter of the said Woodwell, whom they left in the hands 
 of the Indians. 
 
 May 24ih, Thomas Jones, of Holliston, who was a soldier 
 at Gontoocook, was brought to prison, and told us that one 
 Elisha Cook, and a negro belonging to the Rev. Mr. Stevens, 
 were killed when he was taken. 
 
 June 1st, William Aikings, taken at Pleasant Point, near 
 fort George, was brought to prison. June 2d, Mr. Shearly 
 brought several letters of deacon Timothy Brown, of Lower 
 Ashuelot, and money, and delivered them to me, which made 
 me think he was killed or taken. A few days after, Mr. 
 Shearly told me he was taken. I was glad to hear he was 
 alive. 
 
 June 6th, Timothy Cummings, aged 60, was brought to 
 pii.on, who informed us he wa? at work with«five other men, 
 about forty rods from the *jlock-house, George's [fort,] when 
 five Indians shot at them, but hurt none. The men ran away, 
 and left him and iheir guns to the Indians. He told us that 
 the ensign was killed as he stood on the top of the fort, and 
 that the English killed five Indians at the same time. 
 
 June 13th, Mr. Shearly brought to the captives some let- 
 ters which were sent from Albany, and among them one from 
 Lieut. Gov. Phips, of the Massachusetts Bay, to the governor 
 of Canada, for the exchange of prisoners, which gave us great 
 hopes of a speedy release. 
 
 June 22d, eight mf n were brought to prison, among whom 
 were deacon Brown and Robert Morse, who informed me that 
 there were six or eight Indians killed, a little before they were 
 taken, at Upper Ashuelot, and that they learnt, by the Indians 
 who took them, there were six more of the English killed at 
 other places near Connecticut river, and several more much 
 wounded ; these last were supposed to be the wife and chil- 
 dren of the aforesaid Burbank and Woodwell. 
 
 July 5th, we sent a petition to the chief governor that we 
 might be exchanged, nd the 7th, Mr. Shearly told us we 
 should be exchanged for other captives in a little time, which 
 caused great joy among us. The same day, at night, Johft ' f^ 
 Berran, of Northfield, was brought to prison, who told us that i%' 
 an expedition against Canada was m foot, which much t%i 
 rejoiced us. He also told us of the three fights in No. Four, 
 and who were killed and taken, and of the mischief done in 
 other places near Connecticut river, and that my brother Dan- 
 
 * 
 
r ' 
 
 r 
 
 136 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 iel How's son Daniel was taken with him, and was in the 
 hands of the Indians, who designed to keep him. 
 
 July 20th, John Jones, a seaman, was brought into prison, 
 who told us he was going from Cape Breton to Newfound- 
 land with one Englishman and four Frenchmen, who had 
 sworn allegiance to King George, and in the passage they 
 killed the other Englishman, but carried him to the bay of 
 Arb, where there was an army of French and Indians, to 
 whom they delivered him, and by them was sent to Quebec. 
 
 July 21st, John Richards and a boy of nine or ten years of 
 age, who belonged to Rochester, in New Hampshire, were 
 brought to prison. They told us there were four Englishmen 
 killed when they were taken. 
 
 August 15th, seven captives, who with eight more taken 
 at St. John's island, were brought to prison. They told us 
 that several were killed after quarters were given, among 
 whom was James Owen, late of Brookfield, in New England. 
 On the 16th, Thomas Jones, late of Sherburne, in New Eng- 
 land, after seven or eight days' sickness, died. He gave good 
 satisfaction as to his future state. On the 25th we had a 
 squall of snow. 
 
 September 12th, Robert Downing, who had been a soldier 
 at Cape Breton, and was taken at St. Johns, and who was 
 with the Indians two months, and suffered great abuse from 
 them, was brought to prison. 
 
 On the 15th, twenty-three of the captives taken at Hoosuck 
 fort were brought to prison, among whom was the Rev. Mr. 
 John Norton. They informed us that after fighting twenty- 
 five hours, with eight hundred French and Indians, they sur- 
 rendered themselves, on capitulation, prisoners of war; that 
 Thomas Nalton and Josiah Read were killed when they were 
 taken. The names of those now brought in are the Rov. Mr. 
 Norton, John Hawks, John Smead, his wife and six children, 
 John Perry and his wife, Moses Scott, his wife and two children, 
 Samuel Goodman, Jonathan Bridgman, Nathan Eames, Jo- 
 seph Scott, Amos Pratt, Benjamin Sinconds, Samuel Lovet, 
 David Warren, and Phinehas Furbush. The two last of these 
 informed me that my brother Daniel How's son was taken 
 from the Indians, and now lives with a French gentleman at 
 Montreal. There were four captives more taken at Albany, 
 the last summer, who were brought to prison the same day. 
 
 On the 26th (Sept.) 74 men and two women, taken at sea, 
 were brought to prison. October 1st, Jacob Shepard, of 
 Westborough, taken at Hoosuck, was brought to prison. On 
 the 3d, Jonathan Batherick was brought in, and on the 5th, 
 seventeen other men, three of whom were taken with Mr. 
 
 Nortor 
 
 and S 
 
 Casco, 
 
 Ooodei 
 
 ' had a I 
 
 four se 
 
 the 20t 
 
 and Re 
 
 land. 
 
 Indians 
 
 to Moni 
 
 Nove 
 
 taken w 
 
 Marlbor 
 
 scot, is 
 
 father w 
 
 20th, Le 
 
 ried in 
 
 abovosaii 
 
 days afte 
 
 for most 
 
 melanchc 
 
 deaths ar 
 
 and on tl; 
 
 Decern 
 
 Gooden, \ 
 
 On the 7i 
 
 wife died, 
 
 ants. Da 
 
 man. Jo 
 
 Davly, of 
 
 Januarj 
 
 Phinehas 
 
 twenty ca 
 
 another p 
 
 Jacob Bai 
 
 IVth, Giat 
 
 the 23d, S 
 
 New Engli 
 
 Februar 
 
 child of Mc 
 
 six more w 
 
 John Sund( 
 
 Philip Scof 
 
 of Westbor 
 
 died, and th 
 
.:;:.rl:s. 
 
 P. 
 
 ^9i 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 137 
 
 Norton and others, viz. Nathaniel Hitchcock, John Aldrick, 
 and Stephen Sc , Richard Subs, who was taken at New 
 Casco, says ont man was killed at the same time. Also Pike 
 Gooden, taken at Saco, was brought to prison. He says he 
 had a brother killed at the same time. On the 12th, twenty- 
 four seamen are brought in, and on the 19th, six more. On 
 the 20tli, Jacob Read died. On the 23d, £dward Cloutman 
 and Robert Dunbar broke prison and escaped for New Eng- 
 land. The 27th, a man was brouj]fht into prison, who said the 
 Indians took five more [besides himself], and brought ten scalps 
 to Montreal. 
 
 November 1st, John Read died. The 9th, John Davis, 
 taken with Mr. Norman, died. The 17th, Nathan Eames, of 
 Marlborough, died. On the 19th, Mr. Adams, taken at Sheep- 
 scot, is brought to prison. He says that Jamas Anderson's 
 father was killed, and his uncle taken at the same time. The 
 20th, Leonard Lydle and the widow Sarah Briant were mar- 
 ried in Canada, by the Rev. Mr. Norton. On the 22d, the 
 abovfsaid Anderson's uncle was brought to prison. Two 
 days after, (24th) John Bradshaw died. He had not been well 
 for most of the time he had been a prisoner. It is a very 
 melancholy time with us. There are now thirty sick, and 
 deaths among us daily. Died on the 28th, Jonathan Dunham, 
 and on the 29th, died also Capt. Bailey of Amesbury. 
 
 December 1st, an Albany man died, and on the 6th, Pike 
 Gooden, who, we have reason to believe, made a happy change. 
 On the 7th, a girl of ten years died. The 11th, Moses Scott's 
 wife died, and on the 15th, one of Captain Robertson's lieuten- 
 ants. Daniel Woodwell's wife died on the 18lh, a pious wo- 
 man. John Perry's wife died the 23d. On the 26th, William 
 Davly, of New York, died. 
 
 January 3d, 1747, Jonathan Harthan died. On the 12th, 
 Phinehas Andrews, of Cape Ann, died. He was one of the 
 twenty captives, who, the same night, had been removed to 
 another prison, hoping thereby to get rid of the infection. 
 Jacob Bailey, brother to Capt. Bailey, died the 15th, and the 
 17th, Giat Braban, Captain Chapman's carpenter, died. On 
 the 23d, Samuel Lovet, son of Major Lovet, of Mendon, in 
 New England, died. 
 
 February 10th, William Garwafs died, ako the youngest 
 child of Moses Scott. The 15th, my nephew, Daniel How, and 
 six more were brought down from Montreal to Quebec, viz. 
 John Sunderland, John Smith, Richard Smith, William Scott, 
 Philip Scoffil, and Benjamin Tainter, son to Lieutenant Tainter' 
 of Westborough in New England. The 23d, Richard Beunet 
 died, and the 25th, Michael Dugon. 
 12* 
 
 I 'i 
 
 'I;;' 
 
 I''. 
 
 ■ '1 •■ 
 
 %■■ 
 
I 
 
 l-l' 
 
 138 
 
 NEHEMIAH HOW'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 March ISth, James Margra died, and on the 22d, Capt. John 
 Fort and Samuel Goodman ; the 28th, the wife of John Smead 
 died, and left six children, the youngest of whom was born the 
 second night after the mother was taken. 
 
 April 7th, Philip Scaffield, [Scofield ?] and next day John 
 Saneld, the next day Capt. James Jordan and one of his men, 
 died. On the 12th, Amos Pratt, of Shrewsbury, and on the 
 14th, Timothy Cummingfs, the 17th, John Dill, of Hull in New 
 England, the 18th, Samuel Venhon, of Plymouth, died. On 
 the 26th, Capt. Jonathan Williamson was brought to prison. 
 He was taken at the new town on Sheepscot river. Th ; 
 same day came in, also, three men who were taken at Albany, 
 three weeks before, and tell us that thirteen were killed, Capt. 
 Trent being one. They were all soldiers for the expedition to 
 Canada. On the 27th, Joseph Denox, and the 28tn, Samuel 
 Evans, died. The same night the prison took fire, and was 
 burnt, but the things therein were mostly saved. We v/ere 
 kept that night under a guard. 
 
 May 7th, Sarah Lydle, whose name was Braint when she 
 was taken, and married while a captive, died, and the 13th, Mr. 
 Smead's son Daniel died, and Christian Tether the 14th. The 
 same day died also Hezekiah Huntington, a hopeful youth, of 
 a liberal education. He was a son of Colonel Huntington of 
 Connecticut, in New England. On the 15th, Joseph Grey, 
 and on the 19th Samuel Burbank, died. At the same time 
 died two children who were put out to the French to nurse. 
 
 At this time I received a letter from Major Willard, dated 
 March 17th, 1747, wherein he informs me my family were 
 well, which was joyful news to me. May 19th, Abraham 
 Fort died. 
 
 [Here ends the journal of Mr. How, exceedingly valuable 
 for the many items of exact intelligence therein recorded, rela- 
 tive to so Hiany of the present inhabitants of New England, 
 through those friends who endured the hardships of captivity 
 in the mountain deserts and the damps of loathsome prisons. 
 Had the author lived to have returned, and published his nar- 
 rative himself, he doubtless would have made it far more valu- 
 able, but he was cut off while a prisoner, by the prison fever, 
 in the fifty-fifth year of his age, after a captivity of one year, 
 seven months, and fifteen days. He died May 25th, 1747, in 
 the hospital at Quebec, after a sicknesf of about ten days. 
 He was a husband and father, and great y beloved by all who 
 knew hira. — Ed.] 
 
139 
 
 PARTICULARS RELATING TO THE CAPTIVITY 
 
 OP JOHN FITCH, OP ASHBY, MASS. RELATED BY MR. ENOS 
 JONES, OP ASHBURNHAM. 
 
 The town of Lunenburg, in Massachusetts, was incorpo- 
 rated August 1, 1728, and received its name in compliment 
 to George II., who, the preceding year, came to the British 
 throne, and was styled Duke of Lunenburg, having in his 
 German dominions a town of that name. On the 3d of Feb- 
 ruary i 1764, a part of Lunenburg was detached and incorpo- 
 rated as a distinct town by the name of Fitchburg. In 1767, 
 a part of Fitchburg was disannexed to aid in forming the town 
 of Ashby. Mr. John Fitch lived on the frontiers of the county, 
 in the tract now included in Ashby. After the commencement 
 of the French and Indian war of 1745, Fitch proposed to the 
 government to keep a garrison, with the aid of three soldiers, 
 who were immedwtely despatched to him. Mr. Fitch was a 
 gentleman of much enterprise, and had had considerable deal- 
 ings with the Indians in peltries, furs, &c., and was generally 
 well known among them. Soon after the breaking out of the 
 war, they determined to make him a prisoner ; and in July, 
 1746-7, they came into the vicinity to the number of about 
 eighty. The inhabitants of the garrison were Fitch, his wife, 
 five children, and the three soldiers. One of these last left 
 the garrison early in the morning of the disaster, on furlough, 
 to visit a house at the distance of three or four miles. 
 Another went out in quest of game. He had not proceeded 
 far when he discovered the Indians crawling in the high grass 
 between him and the garrison. He attempted to return, but 
 ^ s instantly shot down. One soldier only remained with 
 Fitch and his family ; and they determined to defend them- 
 selves to the best of their power. The soldier, whose name 
 was Jennings, fired several times, when an Indian shot him 
 through the neck, and he fell. Mrs. Fitch regularly loaded 
 the guns for her husband, and they continued to defend them- 
 selves for some time ; when the Indians informed them that if 
 they would surrender they should have quarter, but if they 
 refused they should perish in the flames of the garrison. 
 After some cjonsultation with his wife, Fitch concluded to sur- 
 render. The Indians then burned the garrison ; and after 
 committing various mischiefs in the neighborhood, they took 
 the captive family to Canada. Immediately after the garrison 
 was burnt, Perkins, the soldier on furlough, espied the smoke, 
 and on ascending a hill in the vicinity he could see the ruins. 
 
 
 ^• 
 
 i 
 
140 
 
 MARY FOWLER'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 He immediately gave the alarm, and in the evening nearly an 
 hundred had assembled in arms for the pursuit of the enemy. 
 It being dark, however, they concluded to wait till the fol< 
 lowing morning, and ere day broke they set out. After pro- 
 cceding a short distance in the track of the Indians they saw 
 a piece of paper tied to a limb of a tree, which, on e.xam- 
 ining, they found to be in the hand-writing of Fitch, request- 
 ing them by no means to pursue him, as the Indians had 
 assured him of safety if they were not pursued ; but would 
 destroy him if his friends should attempt his rescue. Upon 
 this the party returned to their homes. At the close of the 
 war Fitch and his family were liberated ; and were crossing 
 the Connecticut on their return home, when Mrs. Fitch took 
 cold and died. The rest of the family returned, and Fitch 
 was afterwards married again. Jennings, who was killed in 
 the garrison, was burnt in the flames. The name of the sol- 
 dier killed without the garrison was Blodget. The third sol- 
 dier, whose name was Perkins, escaped. 
 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF MARY FOWLER, OF HOPKINTON. 
 
 Mary Fowler, formerly Mary Woodwell, now living in 
 Canterbury in this state, was born in the town of Hopkinton, 
 in Massachusetts, May 11, 1730. Her parents moved to Hop- 
 kinton in this slate when she was about twelve years of age, 
 and settled on the westerly side of what is called Putney's 
 Hill. 
 
 On the 22d day of April, in the year 1746, while in the 
 garrison at her father's house, six Indians, armed with mus- 
 kets, tomahawks, knives, &c. broke into the garrison and took 
 eight persons while in their beds, viz. the said Mary, her 
 parents, two of her brothers, Benjamin and T^ "mas, Samuel 
 Burbank, an aged man, and his two sons, Caleb and Jonathan. 
 They carried them through the wilderness to St. Francis in 
 Canada. Here Mary and Jonathan Burbank were detained 
 for the term of three years, (though not in one family,) and 
 the other six were carried prisoners to Quebec, where Bur- 
 bank, the aged, and Mary's mother died of the yellow fever in 
 prison. The other four were afterwards exchanged. 
 
 The circumstances relative to their being taken were as 
 follows : Ten persons, viz. the eight above mentioned, Samuel 
 Evbank'sr wife and a soldier, were secluded in the garrison 
 tax tear of being attacked by the Indians, who had been fro- 
 
♦ • 
 
 in 
 
 IS 
 
 el 
 ^n 
 
 MARY FOWLER'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 141 
 
 quently scoutinjf through Hopkinton and the other adjacent 
 towns. Early on the morning of their captivity, Samuel Bur- 
 bank left the garrison and went to the barn m order to feed 
 the cattle before the rest were up, leaving the door unfastened. 
 The Indians, who lay near in ambush, immc^dialely sallied 
 forth and took him. From this affrighted captive they got 
 information that the garrison was weak, whereupon they 
 rushed in, and took them all, except the soldier who escaped, 
 and Burbank's wife, who secreted nerself in the cellar. Du- 
 ring this attack Mary's mother, being closely embraced by a 
 sturdy Indian, wrested from his sid6 a long knife, with which 
 she was in the act of running him through, when her husband 
 prevailed \ 'ith* her to desist, fearing the fatal consequences. 
 However, she secured the deadly weapon, and before they 
 commenced their march threw it into the well, from whence it 
 was taken after the captives returned. Another Indian pre- 
 sented a musket to Mary's breast, intending to blow her 
 through, when a chief by the name of Pennos, who had pre- 
 viously received numerous kindnesses from her father's family, 
 instantly interfered, and kept him from his cruel design, taking 
 her for his own captive. 
 
 After having arrived at St. Francis, Pennos sold Mary to t^ 
 squaw of another family, while J. Burbank continued in some 
 remote part of the neighborhood under his own master. Ma- 
 ry's father and brothers, after they were exchanged, solicited a 
 contribution for her redemption, which was at last obtained 
 with great difficulty for one hundred livres, through the strata- 
 gem of a French doctor ; all previous efTorts made by her 
 father and brothers having failed. This tender parent, though 
 reduced to poverty by the savages, and having no pecuniary 
 assistance except what he received through the hand of charity 
 from his distant friends, had frequently visited St. F;ancis in 
 order to have an interview with his only daughter, and to 
 compromise with her mistress, offering her a large sum for 
 Mary's redemption, but all to no effect. She refused to let her 
 go short of her weight in silver. Moreover, Mary had pre- 
 viously been told by her mistress that if she intimated a word 
 to her father that she wanted to go home with him, she should 
 never see his face again ; therefore, when interrogated by him 
 on this subject, she remained silent, through fear of worse 
 treatment ; yet she could not conceal her grief, for her internal 
 agitation and distress of mind caused the tears to flow pro- 
 fusely from her eyes. Her father, at length, worn out with 
 frief and toil, retired to Montreal, where he contracted with a 
 'renchman as an agent to effect, if possible, the purchase of 
 his daughter. This agent, after having attempted a compro- 
 
 n 
 
 WM 
 
 T 
 
 ■I J 
 
 ,■- 1. 
 
 y 
 
 
142 
 
 MARY FOWLER'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 it:'. 
 
 I 
 
 mise several times in vain, employed a French physician, who 
 was in high reputation among the Indians, to assist him. ^The 
 doctor, under a cloak of friendship, secretly advised Mary to 
 feign herself sick, as the only alternative, and gave her medi- 
 cine for the purpose. This doctor was soon called upon for 
 medical aid ; and although he appeared to exert the utmost 
 of his skill, yet his patient continued to grow worse. After 
 making several visits to no effect, he at length gave her over 
 as being past recovery, advising her niistress, as a real friend, 
 to sell her the first opportunity for what she could get, feven if 
 it were but a small sum; otherwise, said he, she will' die on 
 your hands, and you must lose her. The squaw, alarmed at 
 the doctor's ceremony, and the dangerous apjjfearance of her 
 captive, immediately contracted with the French agent for one 
 hundred livres ; whereupon Mary soon began to amend ; and 
 was shortly after conveyed to Montreal, where she continued 
 six months longer among the French waiting for a passpott; 
 
 Thus after having been compelled to three years' hard labor 
 in planting and hoeing corn, chopping and carrying wood, 
 pounding sapip, gathering cranberries and other wild fruit for 
 the market, ^ib.» this young woman was at length redeemed 
 
 ifisom the merciless hands and cruel servitude of the savages, 
 who had not only wrested her from her home, but also from 
 the tender embraces of her parents, and from all social inter- 
 course with her friends. 
 
 Jonathan Burbank was redeemed about the same time — ^be- 
 came an officer, and was afterwards killed by the Indians in 
 the French war. These sons of the forest supposing him to 
 have been Rogers, their avowed enemy, rushed upon him and 
 slew him without ceremony, after he had given himself up as 
 a prisoner of war. 
 
 , After six months' detention among the French at Montreal, 
 Mary was conveyed (mostly by water) to Albany by the Dutch, 
 who had proceeded to Canada in order to redeem their black 
 slaves, whom the Indians had previously taken and carried 
 thither ; from thence she was conducted to the place of her 
 nativity, where she continued about five years, and was mar- 
 ried to one Jesse Corbett, by whom she had two sons. From 
 thence they moved to Hopkinton in this state, to the place 
 where Mary had been taken by the Indians. Corbett, her 
 husband, was drowned in Almsbury river, (now Warner river,) 
 in Hopkinton, in the year 1759, in attempting to swim across 
 the river — was carried down into the Contoocook, thence into 
 the Merrimack, and was finally taken up in Dunstable with 
 his clothes tied fast to his head. Mary was afterwards married 
 to a Jeremiah Fowler, by whom she had five children. She 
 
MRS. M'COY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 143 
 
 is now living in Canterbury, in the enjoyment of good health 
 and ripmarkable powers of mind, beings in the ninety-third year 
 of her age. The foregoing narrative was written a few weeks 
 since as she related it. 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 * 
 
 OP THEfCAPTIVITY OP MRS. ISABELLA M'COY, WHO WAS TA- 
 KEN CAPTIVE AT EPSOM, N. H., IN THE YEAR 1747. COL- 
 LECTED FROM THE RECOLLECTIONS OF AGED PEOPLE WHO 
 KNEW HER, BY THE REV. JONATHAN CURTIS, A MINISTER 
 ' OP THAT TOWN, ABOUT SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO, AND BY 
 HIM COMMUNICATED TO THE PUBLISHERS OF THE NEW 
 HAMPSHIRE HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS. 
 ^' ^ .- 
 
 , The Indians were first attracted to the new settlements in 
 the town of Epsom, N. H., by discovering M'Coy at Suncook, 
 now Pembroke. This, as nearly as can be ascertained, was in 
 the year 1747. Reports were spread of the de|ii0dations of 
 the Indians in various places ; and M'Coy had heard that the_ 
 had been seen lurking about the woods at Penacook, now Con 
 cord. He went as far as Pembroke ; ascertained that they 
 were in the ^cinity ; was somewhere discovered by them, and 
 followed home. They told his wife, whom they afterwards 
 made prisonet, that they looked through cracks around the 
 house, and saw what they had for supper that night. They 
 however did not discover themselves till the second day after. 
 They probably wished to take a little time to learn the strength 
 and preparation of the inhabitants. The next day, Mrs. 
 M'Coy, attended by their two dogs, went down to see if any of 
 the other families had returned from the garrison. She found 
 no one. On her return, as she was passing the block-house, 
 which stood near the present site of the meeting-house, the 
 dogs, which had passed round it, came running back growling 
 and very much excited. Their appearance induced her to 
 make the best of her way home. The Indians afterwards told 
 her that they then lay concealed there, and saw the dogs, when 
 they came round. 
 
 M'Coy, being now strongly suspicious that the Indians were 
 actually in the town, determined to set off the next day with 
 his family for the garrison at Nottingham. His family now 
 consisted of himself, his wife, and son John. The younger 
 children were still at the garrison. They accordingly secured 
 their house as well as they could, and all set off next m^crning; 
 
 .■•-* 
 

 "1#- 
 
 
 144 
 
 MRS. M'COY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 — M'Coy and his son with their guns, though without ammu- 
 nition, having fired away what they brought with them in 
 hunting. 
 
 As they were travelling a little distance east of the place 
 where the meeting-house now stands, Mrs. M'Coy fell a little 
 in the rear of the others. This circumstance gave the Indians 
 a favorable opportunity for separating her from her husband 
 and son. The Indians, three men and a boy, lay in ambush 
 near the foot of Marden's hill, not far from the junction of the 
 mountain road with the main road. Here they suflfered M'Coy 
 and his son to pass ; but, as his wife was passing them, they 
 reached from the bushes, and took hold of her, charging her 
 to make no noise, and covering her mouth with their hands, as 
 she cried to her husband for assistance. Her husband, hearing 
 her cries, turned, and was about coming to her relief. But he 
 no sooner began to advance, than the Indians, expecting proba- 
 bly that he would fire upon them, began to raise their pieces, 
 which she pushed one side, and motioned to her friends to 
 make their escape, knowing that their guns were not loaded, 
 and that they would doubtless be killed, if they approached. 
 They according ran into the woods and made their escape to 
 the garrison. This took place August 21, 1747. 
 
 The Indians then collected together what booty they could 
 obtain, which consisted of an iron trammel, from Mr. George 
 Wallace's, the apples of the only tree which ^r^ in town, 
 which was in the orchard now owned by Mr. David* Griffin, 
 and some other trifling articles, and prepared to Set off with 
 their prisoner for Canada. 
 
 Before they took their departure, they conveyed Mrs. M'Coy 
 to a place near the little Suncook river, where they left her in 
 the care of the young Indian, while the three men, whose 
 names were afterwards ascertained to be Plausawa,''*' Sabatis, 
 and Christi, went away, and were for some time absent. Dur- 
 ing their absence, Mrs. M'Coy thought of attempting to make 
 her escape. She saw opportunities, when she thought she 
 might dispatch the young Indian with the trammel, which, 
 with other things, was left with them, and thus perhaps avoid 
 some strange and barbarous death, or a long and distressing 
 captivity. But, on the other hand, she knew not at what dis- 
 tance the others were. If she attempted to kill her young 
 keeper, she might fail. If she effected her purpose in this, she 
 might be pursued and overtaken by a cruel and revengeful foe, 
 and then some dreadful death would be her certain portion. 
 
 * These were of the Arosaguntacook or St. Francis tribe, 
 knap's Hist. N. H. vol. ii. p. 278. 
 
 See Bel- 
 
 On tl 
 
 mind \ 
 
 captivi 
 
 end fo 
 
 tion ir 
 
 appear 
 
 told til 
 
 Plausa 
 
 her the 
 
 The; 
 
 Canada 
 
 and cor 
 
 find the 
 
 But, in 
 
 agreeab 
 
 them w 
 
 were sc 
 
 they ha( 
 
 lay. Ii 
 
 Ohampli 
 
 that Iak( 
 
 on whic] 
 
 name be 
 
 of mitigi 
 
 tedious j 
 
 repose ih 
 
 man, woi 
 
 theirs, co 
 
 suffered 
 
 to a river 
 
 over on 1 
 
 ever offer 
 
 carried h 
 
 family, w 
 
 But so coi 
 
 being a mi 
 
 she never 
 
 were it no 
 
 After tl 
 
 visited the 
 
 tions. Tl] 
 
 the inhabi 
 
 At the tin 
 
 ♦The wri 
 the bumiog < 
 
MRS. M'COY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 145 
 
 as 
 
 Issmg 
 
 Bel- 
 
 On the whole, she thought best to endeavor to prepare her 
 mind to bear what might be no mere than a period of savage 
 captivity. Soon, however, the Indians returned, and put an 
 end for the present to all thoughts of escape. From the direc- 
 tion in wi ich they went and returned, and from their smutty 
 appearance, she suspected what their business had been. She 
 told them she guessed they had been burning her house. 
 Plausawa, who could speak some broken English, informed 
 her they had.* 
 
 They now commenced their long and tedious journey to 
 Canada, in which the poor captive might well expect that great 
 and complicated sufferings would be her lot. She did indeed 
 find the journey fatiguing, and her fare scanty and precarious. 
 But, in her treatment from the Indians, she experienced a very 
 agreeable disappointment. The kindness she received from 
 them was far greater than she had expected from those who 
 were so often distinguished for their cruelties. The apples 
 they had gathered they saved for her, giving her one every 
 lay. In this way, they lasted her as far on the way as lake 
 Ohamplain. They gave her the last, as they were crossing 
 that lake in their canoes. This circumstance gave to the tree, 
 on which the apples grew, the name of " IsabelVs tree" her 
 name being Isabella. In many ways did they appear desirous 
 of mitigating the distresses of their prisoner while on their 
 tedious journey. When night came on, and they halted to 
 repose themselves in the dark wildflrness, Plausawa, the head 
 man, would make a little couch in the leaves a little way from 
 theirs, cover her up with his own blanket ; and there she .was 
 suffered to sleep undisturbed till morning. When they came 
 to a river, which must be forded, one of them would carry her 
 over on his back. Nothing like insult or indecency did they 
 ever offer her during the whole time she was with them. They 
 carried her to Canada, and sold her as a servant to a French 
 family, whence, at the close of that war, she returned home. 
 Bui so comfortable was her condition there, and her husband 
 being a man of rather a rough and violent temper, she declared 
 she never should have thought of attempting, the journey home, 
 were it not for the sake of her children. 
 
 After the capture of Mrs. M'Coy, the Indians frequently 
 visited the town, but never committed any very great depreda- 
 tions. The greatest damage they ever did to the property of 
 the inhabitants was the spoiling of all the ox-teams in town. 
 At the time referred to, there were but four yoke of oxen in 
 
 *The writer has a piece of the iron>ware, which was melted dowii in. 
 the burning of the house. 
 
 13 
 
 » 
 
 c 
 
 ♦^j 
 
 IB 
 
 m 
 
 \m\ 
 
146 
 
 MRS. M'COY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 .JS^' 
 
 ■« ft- 
 
 the place, viz. M'Coy's, Capt. M'Clary's, George Wallace's, 
 and Lieut. Blake's. It was a time of ajtprehension from the 
 Indians ; and the inhabitants had therefore all fled to the gar- 
 rison at Nottingham. They left their oxen to graze about the 
 woods, with a bell upon one of them. The Indians found them, 
 shot one out of each yoke, took out their tongues, made a 
 prize of the bell, and left them. 
 
 The ferocity and cruelty of the savages were doubtless very 
 much averted ly a friendly, conciliating course of conduct in 
 the inhabitants towards them. This was particularly the case 
 in the course pursued by sergeant Blake. Being himself a 
 curious marksman and an expert hunter, traits of character in 
 their view of the highest order, he soon«6ecured their respect; 
 and, by a course of kind treatment, he secured their friendship 
 to such a degree, that, though they had opportunities, they 
 would not injure him even in time of war. 
 
 The first he ever saw of them was a company of them mak- 
 ing towards his house, through the opening from the top of 
 Sanborn's hill. He fled to the woods, and there lay concealed, 
 till they had made a thorough search about his house and en- 
 closures, and had gone off. The next time his visitors came, 
 he was constrained to become more acquainted with them, and 
 to treat them with more attention. As he was busily engaged 
 towards the close of the day in completing a yard for his cow, 
 the declining sun suddenly threw along several enormous sha- 
 dows on the ground before him. He had no sooner turned to 
 see the cause, than he found himself in the company of a 
 number of stately Indians. Seeing his perturbation, they pat- 
 ted him on the head, and told him not to be afraid, for they 
 would not hurt him. They then went with him into his 
 house ; and their first business was to search all his bottles to 
 see if he had any " occapee,^^ rum. They then told him they 
 were very hungry, and wanted something to eat. He happened 
 to have a quarter of a bear, which he gave them. They took 
 it and threw it whole upon the fire, and very soon began to 
 cut and eat from it half raw. While they were eating, he 
 employed himself in cutting pieces from it, and broiling upon 
 a stick for them, which pleased them very much. After their 
 repast, they wished for the privilege of lying by his fire through 
 the night, which he granted. The next morning, they pro- 
 posed trying skill with him in firing at a mark. To this he 
 acceded. But in this, finding themselves outdone, they were 
 much astonished and chagrined ; neve-'.heless thej"" highly 
 commended him for his skill, patting him oo the head, and 
 telling him if he wovld go off with them they would make him. 
 
CAPTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 147 
 
 ky were 
 highly 
 
 |ad, and 
 ike him 
 
 their big captain. They used often to call upon him, and his 
 kindness to them th4y never lorgot even in time of war. 
 
 Plausawa had a peculiar manner of doubling his lip, and 
 producing a very shrill piercirg whistle, which might be heard 
 a great distance. At a time, when considerable danger was 
 apprehended from the Indians, Blake went off into the woods 
 alone, though considered hazardous, to look for his cow, that 
 was missing. As he was passing along by Sinclair's brook, 
 an unfrequented place, northerly from M'Coy's mountain, a 
 very loud sharp whistle, which he knew to be Plausawa's, 
 suddenly passed through his head, like the report of a pistol. 
 The sudden alarm almost raised him froia the ground ; and, 
 with a very light step, he soon reached home without his cow. 
 In more peaceable times, Plausawa asked him if he did not 
 remember the time, and laughed very much to think how he 
 ran at the fright, and told him the reason for his whistling. 
 •» Young Indian,^' said he, " put up gun to shoot Englishman. 
 Me knock it doion, and whistle to start you off.^^ So lasting is 
 their friendship, when treated well. At the close of the wars, 
 the Indians built several wigwams near the confluence of Wal- 
 lace's brook with the great Suncook. On &4ittteisland in this 
 river, near the place called " short falls," one of them lived 
 for a considerable time. Plausawa and Sabatis were finally 
 both killed in time of peace by one of the whites, after a drunk- 
 en quarrel, and buried near a certain brook in Boscawen. 
 
 A FAITHFUL NARRATIVE ' 
 
 OP THE SUFFERINGS OF PETER WILLIAMSON, WHO SETTLED 
 NEAR THE PORKS OP THE DELAWARE IN PENNSYLVANIA. 
 HAVING BEEN TAKEN BY THE INDIANS IN hIS OWN 
 HOUSE, OCTOBER 2d, 1754.— WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 I WAS born within ten miles of the town of Aberdeen, in the 
 north of Scotland, of reputable parents. At eight years of age, 
 being a sturdy boy, I was taken notice of by two fellows be- 
 londng to a vessel, employed (as the trade then was) by some 
 of the worthy merchants of Aberdeen in that villanous ^irid 
 execrable practice of stealing young children from their parents, 
 and selling them as slaves in the plantations abroad, and on 
 board the ship I was easily cajoled by them, wb3re I was con- 
 ducted between u 3, to some others they had kidnapped in 
 the same manner, and in about a month's time set sail for 
 America. When arrived at Philadelphia, the captain sold us 
 
 f 
 
 m 
 
 ^ H 
 
 1 -"?P5t 
 
 •;> 
 
r 
 
 ^'W^ 
 
 148 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 ^ 
 
 11 
 
 a* about sixteen pounds per head. Wliat bf 'ngne of my un- 
 happy companions I never knew ; but it was my lot to be sold 
 for seven years, to one of my countrymen, who had in his 
 youth been kidnapped like myself, but from another town. 
 
 Having no children of his own, and commiserating my con- 
 ''■♦ion, he took care of me, indulged me in going to school, 
 
 Jere I went every winter for five years, and made a tolerable 
 loficiency. With this good master I continued till he died, 
 and, as a reward for my faithful service, he left me two hun- 
 dred pounds currency, which was then about an hundred and 
 twenty pounds sterling, his best horse, saddle, and all his 
 wearing apparel. 
 
 Being now seventeen years old, and my own master, having 
 money in my pocket, and all other necessaries, I employed 
 myself in jobbing for near seven years ; when I resolved to 
 settle, and married the daughter of a substantial planter. My 
 father-in-law made me a deed of gift of a tract of land that lay 
 (unhappily for me, as it has since proved) on the frontiers of 
 the province of Pennsylvania, near the forks of Delaware, 
 containing about t\ro hundred acres, thirty of which were well 
 cleared and fit for immediate use, on which were a good house 
 il &nd barn. The place pleasing me well, I settled on it. My 
 money I expended in buying stock, household furniture, and 
 implements for out-of-door work ; and being happy in a good 
 wife, my felicity was complete : but in 17r>4, the Indians, who 
 #>ihad for a long time before ravaged and destroyed other parts 
 of America unmolested, began now to be very troublesome on 
 the frontiers of our province, where they generally appeared in 
 small skulking parties, committing great devastations. 
 
 Terrible and shocking to human nature were the barbarities 
 daily committed by these savages ! Scarce did a day pass but 
 * # some unhappy family or other fell victims to savage cruelty. 
 Terrible, indeed, it proved to me, as well as to many others. I, 
 that was now happy in an easy state of life, blessed with an 
 afiectionate and tender wife, became on a sudden one of the 
 most unhappy of mankind : scarce can I sustain the shock 
 which forever recurs on recollecting the fatal second of Octo- 
 ber, 1754. My wife that day went from home, to visit some 
 of her relations ; as I staid up later than usual, expecting her 
 return, none being in the house besides myself, how gr^at was 
 my surprise and terror, when, about eleven o'clock at night, I 
 heard the dismal war-whoop of the savages, and found that my 
 house was beset by them. I flew to my chamber window, and 
 perceived them to be twelve in number. Having; my gun 
 loaded, I threatened them with death, if they did not retire. 
 But how vain ana fruitless are the efforts of one man agamst 
 
4 a 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 149 
 
 the united force of so many blood-thirsty monsters ! One o^ 
 them that couM speak English threatened me in return, "that 
 if I did not come out they would burn me alive," adding, how- 
 ever, " that if I would come out and surrender myself prisoner 
 they would not kill me." In such deplorable circumstances, I 
 chose to rely on their promises, rather than meet death by 
 rejecting them ; and accordingly went out of the house, with 
 my gun in my hand, not knowing that I had it. Immediately 
 on my approach they rushed on me like tigers, and instantly 
 disarmed me. Having me thus in their power, they bound me 
 to a tree, went into the house, plundered it of every thing they 
 could carry off, and then set fire to it, and consumed what was 
 left before my eyes. , Not satisfied with this, they set fire to 
 my barn, stable, and out-houses, wherein were about two hun- 
 dred bushels of wheat, six cows, four horses, and five sheep, all 
 which were consumed to ashes. 
 
 Having thus finished the execrable business about which 
 they came, one 'of the monsters came to me with a tomahawk 
 and threatened me with the worst of deaths if I would not go 
 with them. This I agreed to, and then they untied me, and 
 gave me a load to carry, under which I travelled all that night, 
 full of the most terrible apprehensions, lest my unhappy wife 
 should likewise have fallen into their cruel power. At day- 
 break my infernal masters ordered me \o lay down my load, 
 when, tymg my hands again round a tree, they forced the blood 
 out at my fingers' ends. And then kindling a fire near the 
 tree to which I was bound, the most dreadful agonies seized 
 me, concluding 1 was going to be made a sacrifice to their 
 barbarity. The fire being made, they for some time danced 
 round me after their manner, whooping, hollowing and shriek- 
 ing in a frightful manner. Being satisfied with this sort of 
 mirth, they proceeded in another manner : taking the burning 
 coals, and sticks flaming with fire at thf ends, holding them to 
 my face, head, hands, and feet, and at the same time threaten- 
 ing to burn me entirely if I cried out. Thus tortured as I was, 
 almost to death, I suffered their brutalities, without being al- 
 lowed to vent my anguish otherwise than by shedding silent 
 tears ; and these being observed, they took fresh coals and 
 applied them neir my eyes, telling me my face was wet, and 
 that they would dry it for me, which indeed they cruelly did. 
 How I underwent these tortures has been matter of wonder to 
 me, but God enabled me to wait with more than common 
 patience for the deliverance I daily prayed for. 
 
 At length they sat down round the fire, and roasted the meat, 
 of which they had robbed my dwelling. When they had sap- 
 ped, they offered some to me ; though it may easily be imagined 
 13* 
 
 •.*i 
 
 
 
 L 
 
<• 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 ■0 .^' 
 
 'W \ 
 
 «&. 
 
 IJSO 
 
 ,inrTfn\ 
 
 CAFTIVITy OF PETl^R WILLIAMSOIJf. 
 
 I had but little appetite to eat, after the tortures and miseries I 
 had suflfered, yet was I forced to seem pleased with what they 
 ofiered me, lest by refusing it they should reassume their hel- 
 U|h practices. What I could not eat I contrived to hide, they 
 having unbound me till they imagined I had eat all ; but then 
 they bound me as before ; in which deplorable condition I was 
 forced to continue the whole day. When the sun was set, they 
 put out the fire, and covered the ashes with'leaves, as is their 
 usual custom, that the white people might not discover any 
 traces fd. their having been there. 
 
 Going from thence along the Susquehannji, for the space of 
 six miles, loaded as I was before, we arrived at a spot near the 
 Apalachian mountains, or Blue hills, where they hid their 
 plunder under logs of wood. From thence they proceeded to 
 a neighboring house, occupied by one Jacob Snider and his 
 unhappy family, consisting of his wife, five children, and a 
 younfl^ man his servant. They soon got admittance into the 
 unfortunate man's house, where they immediately, without the 
 least remorse, scalped both parents and children ; nor could the 
 tears, the shrieks, or cries of poor innocer.t children prevent 
 their horrid massacre. Having thus scalped them, and plun- 
 dered the house of every thing that was movable, they set fire 
 to it, and left the distressed victims amidst the flames. 
 
 Thinking the young man belonging to this unhappy family 
 would be of service to them in carrying part of their plunder, 
 they spared his life, and loaded him and myself with what they 
 had here got, and again marched to the Blue hills, where they 
 stowed their goods as before. My fellow-sufferer could not 
 support the cruel treatment which we were obliged to suffer, 
 and complaining bitterly to me of his being unable to proceed 
 any farther, I endeavored to animate him, but all in vain, for 
 he still continued his moans and tears, which one of the sava- 
 ges perceiving, as we travelled along, came up to us, and with 
 his tomahawk gave him a blow on the head, which felled the 
 unhappy youth fo the ground, whom they immediately scalped 
 and left. The suddenness of this murder shocked me to that 
 degree, that I was in a manner motionless, expecting my fate 
 would soon be the same : however, recovering my distracted 
 thoughts, I dissembled my anguish as well as I could from the 
 barbarians ; but still, such was my terror, that for some time I 
 scarce knew the days of the week, or what I did. 
 
 They still kept on their course near the mountains, where 
 tLey lay skulking four or five days, rejoicing at the plunder 
 they had got. When provisions became scarce, they made 
 their' way toward^ Susquehanna, and passing near another 
 house, inhabited by an old man, whose name was John Adams, 
 

 .,•1* 
 
 *, 
 
 CAPTIVITY OP PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 151 
 
 with his wife and four small children, and meeting with no 
 resistance, they immediately scalped the mother and her chil- 
 dren before the old man's eyes. Inhuman and horrid as this 
 was, it did not satisfy them ; for When they had murdered the 
 poor woman, they acted with her in such a brutal manner lis 
 decency will not permit me to mention. The unhappy hus- 
 band, not being able to avoid the sight, entreated them to p "" 
 an end 'o his miserable btnng; but they Were as deaf to the 
 tears and entreaties of this venerable sufferer as they had been 
 to those of the others, and proceeded to burn and destroy his 
 house, barn, corn, hay, cattle, and every thing the poor man a 
 few hours beforer was master of. Having saved what they 
 thought proper from the flames, they gave the old man, feeblei 
 weak> and in the miserable condition he then was, as well as 
 myself, burdens to carry, and loading themselves likewise with 
 bread and meat, pursued their journey towards the Great 
 swamp. Here they lay for eight or nine days, diverting them- 
 selves, at time?^ in barbarous cruelties on the old man : some- 
 times ihey would strip him naked, and paint him all over with 
 Various sorts of colors ; at other timec; they would pluck the 
 White hairs from his head, and tauntingly tell him he was a 
 fool for living so long, and that they should show him kindness 
 in putting him out of the world. In vain were all his tears, 
 foip daily did they tire themselves with the various m^ans they 
 tried to torment him; sometimes tying him to a tree, and 
 whipping him ; at other times, scorching his furrowed cheek 
 with red-hot coals, and burning his legs quite, to the knees. 
 One night, after he had been thus tormented, whilst he and I 
 were condoling each other at the miseries we daily suffered, 
 twenty-five other Indians arrived, bringing with thiem twenty 
 scalps and three prisoners, who had unhappily fallen into their 
 hands in Conogocheague, a small town near the river Susque- 
 hanna, chiefly inhabited by the Irish. These prisoners gave 
 us some shocking accounts of the murders and devastations 
 committed in their parts ; a few instances of which will en- 
 able the reader to guess at the treatment the provincials have 
 suffered for years past. This party, who now joined us, had 
 it not, I found, in their power to* begin their violences so soon 
 as those who visited my habitation ; the first of their tragedies 
 being on the 25th of October, 1754, when John Lewis, with 
 his wife and three small children, were inhumanly scalped and 
 murdered, and his house, barn, and every thing he possessed 
 burnt and destroyed. On the 28th, Jacob Miller, with his wife 
 afild six of his family, with every thing on his plantations, 
 shared the same fate. The 30th, the house, mill, bam, twenty 
 heftd of djtttle', two teatns'of horses, and every thing belonging 
 
 ■^C' 
 

 14B 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 <r,. 
 
 fi 
 
 • to George Folke, met with the like treatment, himself, wife, 
 and all his miserable family, consisting of nine in number, being 
 S(!alped, then cut in pieces and given to the swine. One of 
 the substantial traders, belonging to the province, having bust* 
 ness that called him some miles up the country, fell into the 
 hands of those ruffians, who not only scalped him, but imme- 
 diately roasted him before he wan dead ; then, like cannibals, 
 for want of other food, eat his whole body, and of his head 
 made, what tliey called, an Indian pudding. 
 
 From these few instances of savage cruelty, the deplorable 
 situation of the defenceless inhabitants, and what they hourly 
 suffered in that part of the globe, must strike the utmost hor- 
 ror, and cause in every breast the utmost detestation, not only 
 against the authors, but against those who, through inatten- 
 tion, or pusillanimous or erroneous principles, suffered these 
 savages at first, unrepelled, or even unmolested, to comntit 
 such outrages, depredations, and murders. 
 
 The three prisoners that were brought with these additional 
 forces, constantly repining at their lot, and almost dead with 
 their excessive hard treatment, contrived at last to make their 
 escape; but being far from their own settlements, and not 
 knowing the country, were soon after met by some others of 
 the tribes or nations at war with us, and brought back. The 
 
 Eoor creatures, almost famished for want of sustenance, having 
 ad none during the time of their escape, were no sooner in 
 the power of the barbarians than two of them were tied to a 
 tree, and a great fire made round them, where they remained 
 till they were terribly scorched and burnt ; when one of the 
 villains with his scalping-knife ripped open their bellies, took 
 out their entrails, and burned them before their eyes, whilst 
 the others were cutting, piercing, and tearing the flesh from 
 their breasts, hands, arms, and legs, with red-hot irons, till 
 4 they were dead. The third unhappy victim was reserved a 
 few hours longer, to be, if possible, sacrificed in a more cruel 
 manner: his arms were tied close to his body, and a hole 
 being dug deep enough for him to stand upright, he was put 
 into it, and earth rammed and beat in all round his body up 
 to his neck, so that his head only appeared above ground ; 
 they then scalped him, and there let him remain for three or 
 four hours in the greatest agonies ; after which they made a 
 small fire near his head, causing him to suffer the most excru- 
 ciating torments ; whilst the poor creature could only cry for 
 mercy by killing him immediately, for his brains were boiling 
 in his head. Inexorable to all he said, they continued the fire 
 till his eyes gushed out of their sockets. Such agonizing tor- 
 ments did this unhappy creature suffer for near two he 
 
 lours 
 
> t 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 m 
 
 before he was quite dead. They then cut off hit head, and 
 buried it with the other bodies; my task being to dig the 
 graves ; which, feeble and terrified as I was, the dread of suf« 
 lering the same fate enabled me to do. 
 
 A great snow now falling, the barbarians were fearful lest 
 the white people should, by their fracks, Cnd out their skulk- 
 ing retreats, which obliged them to make the best of their way 
 to their winter-quarters, about two hundred miles farther from 
 any plantations or inhabitants. After a long and painful jour- 
 ney, being almost starved, I arrived with this infernal crew at 
 Alamingo. There I found a number of wigwams full of their 
 women and children. Dancing, singing, and shouting were 
 their general amusements. And in all their festivals and 
 dances they relate what successes they have had, and what 
 damages they have sustained in their expeditions ; in which I 
 now unhappily became a part of their theme. The severity 
 of the cold increasing, they stripped me of my clothes for their 
 own use, and gave me such as they usually wore themselves, 
 being a piece of blankct,^ and a pair of moccasons, or shoes, 
 with a yard of coarse cloth, to put round me instead of 
 breeches. 
 
 At Alamingo I remained near two months, till the snow was 
 off the ground. Whntevfir thought" I might have of making 
 my escape, to carry them into execution was impracticable, 
 being so far from any plantations or white people, and the 
 severe weather rendering my limbs in a manner quite stiff and 
 motionless ; however, I contrived to defend myself against the 
 inclemency of the weather as well as I could, by making m3r- 
 self a little wigwam with the bark of the trees, covering it 
 with earth, which made it resemble a cave ; and, to prevent 
 the ill effects of the cold, I kept a good fire always near the 
 door. My liberty of going about was, indeed, more than I 
 could have expected, but they well knew the impracticability 
 of my escaping from them. Seeing me outwardly easy and 
 submissive, they would sometimes give me a little meat, but 
 my chief food was Indian corn. At length the time came 
 when they were preparing themselves for another expedition 
 against the planters and white people ; but before they set out, 
 they were joined by many other Indians. 
 
 As soon as the snow was quite gone, they set forth on their 
 journey towards the back parts of the province of Pennsyl- 
 vania ; all leaving their wives and children behind in their 
 wigwams. They were now a formidable body, amounting to 
 near one hundred and fifty. My business was to carry what 
 they thought proper to load me with, but they never intrusted' 
 me with a gun. We marched on several days without any^ 
 
 i 
 
 
h 
 
 • 
 
 r- 
 
 
 * 
 
 IM 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 thing particular occurrincf, almost famiuhed for want of proyis< 
 ions ; for my part, I had nothing but a few stalks of Indian 
 corn, which I was glad to eat dry ; nor did the Indians them- 
 selves fare much better, for as we drew near the plantations 
 they were afraid to kill any game, lest the noise of their guns 
 should alarm the inhabitants. 
 
 When we again arrived at the Blue hills, about thirty miles 
 from the Irish settlements before mentioned, we encamped for 
 three days, though God knows we had neither tents nor any 
 thing else to defend us from the inclemency of the air, having 
 nothing to lie on by night but the grass ; their usual method 
 of lodging, pitching, or encamping, by night, being in parcels of 
 ten or twelve men to a fire, where they lie upon the grass or 
 brush wrapped up in a blanket, with their feet to the fire. 
 
 During our stay here, a sort of council of war was held, 
 when it was agreed to divide themselves into companies of 
 about twenty men each ; after which every captain marched 
 with his party where he thought proper. I still belonged to 
 my old masters, but was left behind on the mountains with ten 
 Indians, to stay till the rest should return ; not thinking it 
 proper to carry me nearer to Gonogocheague, or the other 
 plantations. 
 
 Here I began to meditate an escape, and though I knew the 
 country round extremely well, yet 1 was very cautious of giv- 
 ing the least suspicion of any such intention. However, the 
 third day after the grand body left, my companions thought 
 proper to traverse the mountains in search of game for their 
 subsistence, leaving me bound in such a manner that I could 
 not escape. At night, when they returned, having unbound me, 
 we ail sai down together to supper on what they had killed, 
 and soon after (being greatly fatigued with their day's excursion) 
 they composed themselves to rest, as usual. I now tried vari- 
 ous ways to try whether it was a scheme to prove my intentions 
 or not ; but afier making a noise and walking about, sometimes 
 touching them with my feet, I found there was no fallacy. 
 Then I resolved, if possible, to get one of their guns, and, if 
 discovered, to die in my defence, rather than be taken. For 
 that purpose I made various efforts to get one from under their 
 heads, (where they always secured them,) but in vain. Disap- 
 pointed in this, I began to despair of carrying my design into 
 execution ; yet, after a little recollection, and trusting myself 
 to the divine protection, I set forwards, naked and defenceless 
 as I was. Such was my terror, however, that in going from 
 them I halted, and paused every four or five yards, looking 
 fearfully towards the spot where 1 had left them, lest they 
 should av.'&ke and miss me ; but when I was two hundred 
 
"V--- 
 
 '^' 
 
 CAFTIVITY OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 
 
 Iffff 
 
 yards from them, I mended my pace, and made as much haste 
 as I possibly could to the foot of the mountains; when, on a 
 sudden, I was struck with the greatest terror at hearing the 
 wood cry, as it is called, which the savages I had left were 
 makinc^ upon missing their charge. The more my terror in- 
 creased the faster I pushed on, and, scarce knowing where I 
 trod, drov€ through the woods with the utmost precipitation, 
 sometimes falling and bruising myself, cutting my feet and legs 
 against the stones in a miserable manner. But faint and 
 maimed as I was, I continued my flight till dayb-eak, when, 
 without having any thing to sustain nature but a little corn 
 left, I crept into a hollow tree, w^ ere I lay very snug, and 
 returned my prayers and thanks to the divine Bemg that had 
 thus far favored my escape. But my reposn was in a few 
 hours destroyed at hearing the voicef of the "avages near the 
 place where I was hid, threatening and talking J ^w they 
 would use me if they got me again. However, T^y at last 
 left the spot where I heard them, and I remained in my aparS 
 ment all that day without further molestatic .. 
 
 At night I ventured forwards again, frght^ned; thinking 
 each twig that touched me a savage. The third day I con- 
 cealed myself in like manner as before, and at night travelled, 
 keeping off the main road as much as possible, which length- 
 ened my journey many miles. But how shall I describe the 
 terror I felt on the fourth night, when, by t'le rustling I made 
 among the leaves, a party of Indians, that lay round a small 
 fire, which I did not perceive, started from the ground, and, 
 seizing their arms, ran from the fire amongst the woods. 
 Whether to move forward or rest where I was, I knew not, 
 when, to my great surprise and joy, I was relieved by a parcel 
 of swine that made towards the nlfce wherel guessed the sav- 
 ages to be ; who, on seeing thi rr,, imagined they had caused 
 the alarm, very merrily returned to the fire, and lay again 
 down to sleep. Bruised, crippled, and terrified as I was, I pur- 
 sued my journey till break of day, when, thinking myself safe, 
 I lay down under a grea! log, and slept till about noon. Be- 
 fore evening I reached the summit of a great hill, and looking 
 out if I could spy any habitations of white people, to my inex- 
 pressible joy I saw some, which I guessed to be about ten 
 miles' distance. 
 
 In the morning I continued my journey towards the nearest 
 cleared lands I had seen the day before, and, about four o'clock 
 in the afternoon, arrived at the house of John Bell, an old ac- 
 quaintance, where knocking at the door, his wife, who opened 
 it, seeing me in such a frightful condition, flew from me, 
 screaming, into the house. This alarmed the whole family, 
 
 "M 
 
 i,i 
 
p- 
 
 I 
 
 ■l I 
 
 
 f 
 
 Ml 
 
 ^ 
 
 "^% 
 
 ^.v; 
 
 m 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 who immediately fled to their arms, and I was soon accosted 
 by the master with his gun in his hand. But on making my- 
 self known, (for he before took me to be an Indian,) he imme- 
 diately caressed me, as did all his family, with extraordi« 
 nary friendship, the report of my being murdered by the 
 savages having reached them some months before. For 
 two days and nights they very affectionately supplied me 
 with all necessaries, and carefully attended me till my spirits 
 and limbs were pretty well recovered, and I thought myself 
 able to ride, when I borrowed of these good people (whose 
 kindness merits my most grateful returns) a horse and some 
 clothes, and set forward for my father-in-law's house in Ches- 
 ter county, about one hundred and forty miles from thence, 
 where I arrived on the 4th of January, 1755, (but scarce one 
 of the family could credit their eyes, believing, with the peo- 
 ple I had lately left, that I had fallen a prey to the Indians,) 
 where I was received and embraced by the whole family with 
 
 freat affection. Upon inquiring for my dear wife, I found she 
 ud been dead two months ! This fatal news greatly lessened 
 the joy I otherwise should have felt at my deliverance from 
 tl^e dreadful state and company I had been in. 
 
 
 
 A PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE CAPTIVITY 
 
 AND REDEMPTION OP MRS. JEMIMA HOWE, WHO WAS 
 TAKEN PRISONER BY THE INDIANS AT HINSDALE, NEW 
 HAMPSHIRE, ON THE TWENTY SEVENTH OF JULY, 1765, 
 AS COMMUNICATED TO DR. BELKNAP BY THE REV. BUN- 
 KER GAY. 
 
 As Messrs. Caleb Howe, Hilkiah Grout, and Benjamin 
 Gaffield, who had been hoeing corn in the meadow, west of 
 the river, were returning home, a little before sunset, to a 
 place called Bridgman's fort, they were fired upon by twelve 
 Indians, who had ambushed their path. Howe was on horse- 
 back, with two young lads, his children, behind him. A ball, 
 which broke his thigh, brought him to the ground. His horse 
 ran a few rods and fell likewise, and both the lads were taken. 
 The Indians, in their savage manner coming up to Howe, 
 pierced his body with a spear, tore off his scalp, stuck a hatchet 
 m his head, and left him in this forlorn condition. He was 
 found alive the morning after, .Jby a party of men from fort 
 Hindsdale ; and being asked by one of the party whether he 
 knew him, he answered, " Yes, I know you all." These were 
 his last words, though he did not expire until after his friends 
 
H •.■i^r"'"''.'"-«^ra"- 
 
 '» 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 157 
 
 had arrived with him at fort Hindsdale. Grout was so fortu- 
 nate as to escape unhurt. But Gaffield, in attempting to wade 
 through the river, at a certain place which was mdeed forda- 
 ble at that time, was unfortunately drowned. Flushed with 
 the success they had met with here, the savages went directly 
 to Bridgman's fort. There was no man in it, and only three 
 women and some children, viz. Mrs. Jemima Howe, Mrs. 
 Submit Grout, and Mrs. Eunice Gaffield. Their husbands I 
 need not mention again, and their feelings at this juncture 
 I will not attempt to describe. They had heard the enemy's 
 guns, but knew not what had happened to their friends. Ex- 
 tremely anxious for their safety, they stood longing to embrace 
 them, until at length, concluding from the noise they heard 
 without that some of them were come, they unbarred the gate 
 in a hurrj to receive them ; when, lo ! to their inexpressible 
 disappointment and surprise, instead of their husbands, in 
 rushed a number of hideous Indians, to whom they and their 
 tender offspring became an easy prey, and from whom they 
 had nothing to expect but either an immediate death or a long 
 and doleful captivity. The latter of these, by the favor of 
 Providence, turned out to be the lot of these unhappy women 
 and their still more unhappy, because more helpless, children. 
 Mrs. Gaffield had but one, Mrs. Grout had three, and Mrs. 
 Howe leven. The eldest of Mrs. Howe's was eleven years 
 old, and the youngest but six months. The two eldest were 
 daughters, which she had by her first husband, Mr. William 
 Phipps, who was also slain by the Indians, of which I doubt 
 not but you have seen an account in Mr. Doolittle's history. 
 It was from the mouth of this woman that I lately received the 
 foregoing account. She also gave me, I doubt not, a true, 
 though, to be sure, a very brief and imperfect history of her 
 captivity, which I here insert for your perusal. It may per- 
 haps afford you some amusement, and can do no harm, if, 
 after it has undergone your critical inspection, you should not 
 think it (or an abbreviation of it) worthy to be preserved among 
 the records you are about to publish. 
 
 The Indians (she says) having plundered arid put fire to 
 the fort, we marched, as near as I could judge, a mile and a 
 half into the woods, where we encamped that night. When 
 the morning came, and we had advanced as much farther, six 
 Indians were sent back to the place of our late abode, who col- 
 lected a little more plunder, and destroyed some other effects 
 thnt had been left behind ; but they did not return until the 
 day was so far spent, that it was judged best to continue where 
 we were through the night. Early the next morning we sett 
 off for Canada, and continued our march eight days succeEl- 
 14 
 
 ^T^ 
 
 .>1» 
 
 .rll 
 
 .# 
 
-^■' 
 
 
 p*. 
 
 158 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 sively, until we had reached the place where the Indians had 
 left their canoes, about fifteen miles from Crown Point. This 
 was a long and tedious march; but the captives, by divine 
 assistance, were enabled to endure it with less trouble and 
 difficulty than they had reason to expect. From such savage 
 masters, in such mdigent circumstances, we could not ration- 
 ally hope for kinder treatment than we received. Some of us, 
 it is true, had a harder lot than others ; and, among the chil- 
 dren, I thought my son Squire had the hardest of any. He 
 was then only four years old, and when we stopped to rest our 
 weary limbs, and he sat down on his master's pack, the savage 
 monster would often knock him off; and sometimes, too, with 
 the handle of his hatchet. Several ugly marks, indented in 
 his head by the cruel Indians, at that tender age, are still 
 plainly to be seen. 
 
 At length we arrived at Crown Point, and took up our 
 quarters there for the space of near a week. In the mean 
 time some of the Indians went to Montreal, and took several 
 of the weary captives along with them, with a view of selling 
 them to the French. They did not succeed, however, in find- 
 ing a market for any of them. They gave • my youngest 
 daughter, Submit Fhipps, to the governor, de Vaudreuil, had 
 a drunken frolic, and returned again to Cro^'ni Point with 
 the rest of their prisoners. From hence we set off for St. 
 Johns, in four or five canoes, just as night was coming on, 
 and were soon surrounded with darkness. A heavy storm 
 hung over us. The sound of the rolling thunder was very 
 terrible upon the waters, which, at every flash of expansive 
 lightning, seemed to be all in a blaze. Yet to this we were 
 indebted for all the light we enjoyed. No object could we 
 discern any longer than the flashes lasted. In this posture 
 we sailed in our open, tottering canoes almost the whole of 
 that dreary night. The morning, indeed, had not yet begun 
 to dawn, when we all went ashore ; and having collected a 
 heap of sand and gravel for a pillow, I laid myself down, with 
 my tender infant by my side, not knowing where any of my 
 other children were, or what a miserable condition they might 
 be in. The next day, however, under the wing of that ever- 
 presvint and all-powerful Providence, which had preserved db 
 through the darkness and imminent dangers of the preceding 
 night, we all arrived in safety at St. Johns. 
 
 Our next movement was to St. Francois, the metropolis, if 
 I may so call it, to which the Indians, who led us captive, 
 belonged. Soon after our arrival at their wretched capital, a 
 council, consisting of the chief sachem and some principal 
 warriors of the St. Francois tribe, was convened; and after 
 
f 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 159 
 
 had 
 rhis 
 ivine 
 and. 
 ivage 
 ition- 
 of us, 
 I chil- 
 , He 
 ist our 
 savage 
 », with 
 lied in 
 ce still 
 
 up our 
 
 3 mean 
 
 several 
 selling 
 
 in find- 
 
 roungest 
 
 juil, had 
 
 int with 
 
 • for St. 
 
 ning on, 
 
 ry storm 
 
 was very 
 
 ;xpansive 
 we were 
 ;ould we 
 s posture 
 whole of 
 et begun 
 jllected a 
 )wn, with 
 ny of my 
 ley might 
 that eyer- 
 iserved iib 
 preceding 
 
 tropolis, if 
 
 IS captive, 
 
 capital, a 
 
 principal 
 
 and after 
 
 the ceremonies usual on such occasions were over, I was con- 
 ducted and delivered to an old squaw, whom the Indians told 
 me I must call my mother ; my infant still continuing to be 
 the property of its original Indian owners. I was neverthe- 
 less permitted to keep it with me a while longer, for the sake 
 of saving them the trouble of looking after it, and of main- 
 taining it with my milk. When the weather began to grow 
 cold, shuddering at the prospect of approaching winter, I 
 acquainted my new mother that I did not think it would be 
 possiUle for me to endure it, if I must spend it with her, and 
 fare as the Indians did. Listening to my repeated and earnest 
 solicitations, that I might be disposed of among some of the 
 French inhabitants of Canada, she, at length, set off with me 
 and my infant, attended by some male Indians, upon a journey 
 to Montreal, in hopes of finding a market for me there. But 
 the attempt proved unsuccessful, and the journey tedious 
 indeed. Our provisions were so scanty, as well as insipid and 
 unsavrry, the weather was so cold, and the travelling so very 
 bad, that it often seemed as if I must have perished on the 
 way. The lips of my poor child were sometimes so benumbed, 
 that when I put it to my breast it could not, till it grew warm, 
 imbibe the nourishment requisite for its support. While 
 we were at Montreal, we went into the house of a certain 
 French gentleman, whose lady, being sent for, and coming 
 into the room where I was, to examine me, seeing I had an 
 infant, exclaimed suddenly in this manner, " Damn it, I will 
 not buy a woman that has a child to look after." There was 
 a swill-pail standing near me, in which I observed some crusts 
 and crumbs of bread swimming on the surface of the greasy 
 liquor it contained ; sorely pinched with hunger, I skimmed 
 them off with my hands and eat them ; and this was all the 
 refreshment which the house afforded me. Somewhere, in 
 the course of this visit to Montreal, my Indian mother was so 
 unfortunate as to catch the small-pox, of which distemper she 
 died, soon after our return, which was by water, to St. Francois. 
 And now came on the season when the Indians began to 
 prepare for a winter's hunt. I was ordered to return my poor 
 child to those of them who still claimed it as their property. 
 This was a severe trial. The babe clung to my bosom with 
 all its might ; but I was obliged to pluck it thence, and deliver 
 it, shrieking and screaming, enough to penetrate a heart of 
 stone, into the hands of those unfeeling wretches, whose tender 
 mercies may be termed cruel. It was soon carried off by a 
 hunting party of those Indians to a place called Messiskow, at 
 the lower end of lake Champlain, whither, in about a month 
 after, it was my fortune to follow them. I had preserved my 
 
 
 *- 
 
 mr 
 
 i ' 
 
 t 
 
1 
 
 160 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 milk in hopes of seeing my beloved child again. And here I 
 found it, it is true, but in a condition that afforded me no greftt 
 satisfaction, it being greatly emaciated, and almost starved. I 
 took it in my arms, put its face to mine, and it instantly bit me 
 with such violence that it seemed as if I must ha\e parted with 
 a piece vi my cheek. I was permitted to lodge with it that 
 and thi Iw o following nights ; but every morning that inter- 
 vener* , tht Indians, I suppose on purpose to torment me, sent 
 me away to another wigwam which stood at a little distance, 
 though not so far from the one in which my distressed infant 
 was confined but that I could plainly hear its incessant cries 
 and heart-rending lamentations. In this deplorable condition 
 I was obliged to take my leave of it, on the morning of the 
 third day after my arrival at the place. We moved down the 
 lake several miles the same day ; and the night following was 
 jg remarkable on account of the great earthquake* which terri- 
 
 bly shook that howling wilderness. Among the islands here- 
 abouts we spent the winter season, often shifting our quarters, 
 and roving about from one place to another ; our family con- 
 sisting of three persons only, besides myself, viz. my late 
 mother's daughter, whom therefore I called my sister, her 
 sanhop, and a pappoose. They once left me alone two dismal 
 nights ; and when they returned to me again, perceiving them 
 smile at each other, I asked. What is the matter ? They re- 
 plied that two of my children were no more ; one of which, 
 they said, died a natural death, and the other was knocked on 
 the head. I did not utter many words, but my heart was 
 sorely pained within me, and my mind exceedingly troubled 
 with strange and awful ideas. I often imagined, for instance, 
 that I plainly saw the naked carcasses of my deceased children 
 hanging upon the limbs of the trees, as the Indians are wont to 
 hang the raw hides of those beasts which they take in hunting. 
 It was not long, however, before it was so ordered by kind 
 Providence, that I should be relieved in a good measure from 
 those horrid imaginations ; for as I was walking one day upon 
 the ice, observing a smoke at some distance upon the land, it 
 must proceed, thought I, from the fire of some Indian hut, and 
 who knows but some one of my poor children may be there? 
 My curiosity, thus excited, led me to the place, and there I 
 found my son Caleb, a little boy between two and three years 
 old, whom I had lately buried, in sentiment at least, or rather 
 imagined to have been deprived of life, and perhaps also denied 
 a decent grave. I found him likewise in tolerable health 
 and circumstances, under the protection of a fond Indian 
 mother ; and moreover had the happiness of lodging with him 
 
 ♦November 18, 1755. 
 
 ik-¥- 
 
 M>'- 
 
 f ■ 
 
MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 161 
 
 •el 
 
 reat 
 I 
 me 
 with 
 that 
 [iter- 
 sent 
 ince, 
 nfant 
 cries 
 lition 
 if the 
 n the 
 g was 
 terri- 
 i here- 
 arters, 
 y con- 
 ly late 
 er, her 
 dismal 
 g them 
 hey re- 
 which, 
 ked on 
 irt was 
 rouhled 
 istance, 
 hildren 
 wont to 
 anting, 
 by kind 
 re from 
 f upon 
 land, it 
 lut, and 
 there? 
 there 1 
 se years 
 |r rather 
 denied 
 health 
 Indian 
 rith him 
 
 in my arms one joyful night. Again we shifted our quarters, 
 and when we had travelled eight or ten miles upon the snow 
 and ice, came to a place where the Indians manufactured sugar, 
 which they extracted from the maple trees. . Here an Indian 
 came to visit us, whom I knew, and could speak English. He 
 asked me why I did not go to see my son Squire. I replied 
 that I had lately been informed that he was dead. He assured 
 me that he was yet alive, and but two or three miles off, on 
 the opposite side of the lake. At my request he gave me 
 the best directions he could to the place of his s^^ode. I 
 resolved to embrace the first opportunity that offered ^,«ndea* 
 voring to search it out. While I was busy in contemplating 
 this affair, the Indians obtained a little broad, of which they 
 gave me a small share. I did not taste a morsel of it myself, 
 but saved it all for my poor child, if I should be so lucky as to 
 find him. At length, having obtained of my keepers leave to 
 be absent for one day, I set off early in the morning, and steer- 
 ing, as well as I could, according to the directions which the 
 frendly Indian had given me, I quickly found the place which 
 he had so accurately marked out. I beheld, as I drew nigh, 
 my little son without the camp ; but he looked, thought I, like a 
 starved and mangy puppy, that had been wallowing in the ashes. 
 I took him in my arms, and he spoke to me these words, in 
 the Indian tongue : *' Mother, are you come ?" I took him into 
 the wigwam with me, and observing a number of Indian chil- 
 dren in it, I distributed all the bread which I had reserved for 
 my own child, among them all, otherwise I should have given 
 ;;'reat offence. My little boy appeared to be very fond of his 
 new mother, kept us near me as possible while I staid, and 
 when I told him I must go, he fell as though he had been 
 knocked down with a club. But having recommended him to 
 the care of Him that made him, when the day was far spent, 
 and the time would permit me to stay no longer, I departed, 
 you may well suppose with a heavy load at my heart. The 
 tidings I had received of the death of my youngest child had, 
 a little before, been confirmed to me beyond a doubt, but J 
 could not mourn so heartily for the deceased as for the living 
 child. « 
 
 When the winter broke up, we removed to St. Johns ; and 
 through the ensuing summer, our principal residence was at 
 no great distance from the fort at that place. In the mean 
 time, however, my sister's husband, having been out with a 
 scouting party to some of the English settlements, had .3 
 drunken frolic at the fort, when he returned. His wife, wiio 
 never got drunk, but had often experienced the ill effects of her 
 husband's intemperance, fearing what the consequence might 
 
 urn 
 
 n> 
 
 V'l 
 
 .* 1 
 
162 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ■■ii'- 
 
 prove if he should come home in a morose and turbulent hu- 
 mor, to avoid his insolence, proposed that we should both retire, 
 and keep out of the reach of it until the stcnii abated. We ab- 
 sconded accordingly, but so it happened that ! returnej? nnd ven- 
 tured intf> his presence, before his v/ife hsd presumed to come 
 nigh him, I found him in his wigv am, aud in a siidy mood ; 
 and not being able to revenge upon 'lis vvif?, bccaust; ,?/ j was 
 not at home, he laid hold of me, and hurried me to tlve fort, 
 and, for a trifling consideration, sold i.v3 to a French gf?ntleman 
 whose namt' was Sa^' apee. Tis an ill wind certainly that 
 blows nobody ;iny good. I had been with the Indians a year 
 lacking fourteen days; and, if not for my !>if,ter yet :or me, 
 'twa? a lucky < ircumstuAce indeijd, vrhich thus nt last, in an 
 unexpected moment, snatched my. out of ihei~ • ruel hands, and 
 placed me bejond the reach of their insolent power. 
 
 After my Indian master had disposed of me in the manner 
 related abo.e, and the moment of sober reflection had arrived, 
 p irceiving that the man who bought me had taken the advantage 
 cf him hi an unguarded hour, hi? resentments began to kindle, 
 and his indignation rose so high, that he threatened to kill me 
 if he should meet me alone, or if he could not revenge himself 
 thus that he would set fire to the iort. I was therefore secreted 
 in an upper chamber, and the fort carefully guarded, until his 
 wrath had time to cool. My service in the family to which I 
 was now advanced, was perfect freedom in comparison of what 
 it had been among the barbarous Indians. My new master 
 and mistress were both as kind and generous towards me as I 
 could anyways expect. I seldom asked a favor of either of 
 them but it was readily granted ; in consequence of which I 
 had it in my power, in many instances, to administer aid and 
 refreshment to the poor prisoners of my own nation, who were 
 brought into St. Johns during my abode in the family of the 
 above-mentioned benevolent and hospitable Saccapee. Yet 
 even in this family such trials awaited me as I had little reason 
 to expect, but stood in need of a large stock of prudence, to 
 enable me to encounter them. Must I tell you then, that even 
 the good old man himself, who considered me as his property, 
 and likewise a warm and resolute son of his, at that same time, 
 and under the same roof, became both excessively fond of my 
 company ; so that between these two rivals, the father and the 
 son, I found myself in a very critical situation indeed, and was 
 greatly embarrassed and perplexed, hardly knowing many 
 times how to behave in such a manner as at once to secure 
 my own virtue, and the good esteem of the family in which I 
 resided, and upon which I was wholly dependent for ray daily 
 support. At length, however, through the tei^der compassion 
 
MBS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 163 
 
 of the 
 Yet 
 reason 
 nce, to 
 at even 
 operty, 
 le time, 
 
 of my 
 and the 
 ind was 
 many 
 
 secure 
 which 1 
 
 y daily 
 
 passion 
 
 of a certain English gentleman,'!'' the Governor de Vaudreuil 
 being made acquainted with the condition I had fallen into, 
 immediately ordered the young and amorous Saccapee, then 
 an officer in the French army, from the field of Venus to the 
 field of Mars, and at the same time also wrote a letter to his 
 father, enjoining it upon him by no means to suffer me to be 
 abused, but to make ray situation and service in his family as 
 easy and delightful as possible. I was moreover under un- 
 speakable obligations to the governor upon r .lother account. 
 I had received intelligence from my daughter Mary, the pur- 
 port of which was, that there was a prospect of her being 
 shortly married to a young Indian of the tribe of St. Francois, 
 with which tribe she had continued from the beginning of her 
 captivity. These were heavy tidings, and added greatly to 
 the poignancy of my other afflictions. However, not long 
 after I had heard this melancholy news, an opportunity pre- 
 sented of acquainting that humane and generous gentleman, 
 the commander-in-chief, and my illustrious benefactor, with 
 this affair also, who, in compassion for my sufTerings, and to 
 mitigate my sorrows, issued nis orders in good time, and had 
 my daughter taken away from the Indians, and conveyed to 
 the same nunnery where her sister was then lodged, with his 
 express injunction that they should both of them together be 
 well looked after, and carefully educated, as his adopted chil- 
 dren. In this school of superstition and bigotry they contin- 
 ued while the war in those days between France and Grea^ 
 Britain lasted. At the conclusion of which war, the governor 
 went home to France, took my oldest daughter along with him, 
 and married her then to a French gentleman, whose name is 
 Cron Lewis. He was at Boston with the fleet under Count 
 de Estaing, [1778] and one of his clerks. My other daugh- 
 ter still continuing in the nunnery, a considerable time had 
 elapsed after my return from captivity, when I made a journey 
 to Canada, resolving to use my best endeavors not to return 
 without her. I arrived just in time to prevent her being 
 sent to France. She was to have gone in the next vessel that 
 sailed for that place. And I found it extremely difficult to 
 prevail with her to quit the nunnery and go home with me ; 
 yea, she absolutely refused, and all the persuasions and argu- 
 ments I could use with her were to no effect, until after I had 
 been to the governor, and obtained a letter from him to the 
 superintendent of the nuns, in whi«h be threatened, if my 
 daughter should not be immediately delivered into my hands, 
 or could not be prevailed with to submit to my paternal author- 
 
 * Co)i. Peter Schuyler, ti^en a prisoner. 
 
 
 ■•I 
 
164 
 
 MRS. JEMIMA HOWE'S CAPTIVITy. 
 
 lifc 
 
 Ity, that he would send a band of soldiers to assist me in 
 bringing her away. Upon hearing this she made no farther 
 resistance. But so extremely bigoted was she to the customs 
 and religion of the place, that, after all, she left i\ with the 
 greatest reluctance, and the most bitter lamentations, which 
 she continued as we passed the streets, and wholly refused to 
 be comforted. My good friend. Major Small, whom we met 
 with on the way, tried all he could to console her ; and was so 
 very kind and obliging as to bear us company, and carry my 
 daughter behind him on horseback. 
 
 But I have run on a little before my story, for I have not 
 yet informed you of the means and manner of my own re- 
 demption, to the accomplishing of which, the recovery of my 
 daughter just mentioned, and the ransoming of some of my 
 other children, several gentlemen of note contributed not a 
 little ; to whose goodness therefore I am greatly indebted, and 
 sincerely hope I shall never be so ungrateful as to forget. (!)ol. 
 Schuyler in particular was so very kind and generous as to 
 advance 2700 livres to' procure a ransom for myself and three 
 of my children. He accompanied and conaucted us from 
 Montreal to Albany, and entertained us in the most friendly 
 and hospitable manner a considerable time, at his own house, 
 and I believe entirely at his own expense. 
 
 I have spun out the above narrative to a much greater length 
 than I at first intended, and shall conclude it with referring 
 you, for a more ample and brilliant account of the captive 
 heroine who is the subject of it, to Col. Humphrey's History 
 of the Life of Gen. Israel Putnam, together with some remarks 
 upon a few clauses in it. I never indeed had the pleasure of 
 perusing the whole of said history, but remember to have seen 
 some time ago an extract from it in one of the Boston news- 
 papers, in which the colonel has extolled the beauty and good 
 sense, and rare accomplishments of Mrs. Howe, the person 
 whom he endeavors to paint in the most lively and engaging 
 colors, perhaps a little too hiprhly, and in a style that may ap- 
 pear to those who are acquainted with her to this day romantic 
 and extravagant. And the colonel must needs have been mis- 
 informed with respect to some particulars that he has men- 
 tioned in her history. Indeed, when I read the extract from 
 his history to Mrs. Tute, (which name she has derived from a 
 third husband, whose widow she now remains,) she seemed to 
 be well pleased, and salA at first it was all true, but soon after 
 contradicted the circumstance of her lover's being so bereft of 
 his senses, when he saw her moving oflT in a boat at some dis- 
 tance from the shore, as to plunge into the water after her, in 
 consequence of which he was seen no more. It is true, she 
 
7" ■':■'■ ^' ■ ■'^'T' 
 
 CAPTIVITy OF FRANCES NOBLE. 
 
 « 
 
 166 
 
 said, that as she was returning from Montreal to Albany, she 
 met with young Saccapee on the way ; that she was in a 
 boat with Colonel Schuyler ; that the French officer came on 
 board the boat, made her some handsome presents, took Kis 
 final leave of her, and departed, to outward appearance in tole- 
 rable good humor. 
 
 She moreover says, that when she went to Canada for her 
 daughter, she met with him again, that he showed her a lock 
 of her iiair, and her name likewise, printed with vermillion on 
 his arm. As to her being chosen agent to go to Europe, in 
 behalf of the people of Hinsdale, when Colonel Howard ob- 
 tained from the government of New York a patent of their 
 lands on the west side of Connecticut river, it was never once 
 thought of by Hinsdale people until the above-mentioned ex- 
 tract arrived among them, in which the author has inserted it 
 as a matter of undoubted fact. 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 OF THE CAPTIVITY OF FRANCES NOBLE, WHO WAS, AMONG 
 O'T'FW.RS, TAKEN BY THE INDIANS FROM SWAN ISLAND, IN 
 Wfi rr , ABOUT THE YEAR 1755 ; COMPILED BY JOHN KELLY, 
 £.[M. OF CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE, FROM THE MINUTES 
 AND MEMORANDA OF PHINEHAS MERRILL, ESQ. OF STRAT- 
 HAM, IN THE SAME STATE; AND BY THE FORMER GEN- 
 TLEMAN COMMUNICATED FOR PUBLICATION TO THE EDI- 
 TORS OF THE HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS OF NEW HAMP- 
 SHIRE. 
 
 fen mis- 
 men- 
 kt from 
 I from a 
 Imed to 
 \n after 
 jreft of 
 le dis- 
 I her, in 
 le, she 
 
 James Whidden, the maternal grandfather of Mrs. Shute, 
 was a captain in the army at the taking of Cape Breton in 
 1745. He owned a tract of la-'d on Swan Island, in the river 
 Kennebec, where he lived with his family. One of his daugh- 
 ters married Lazarus Noble, of Portsmouth, who lived on the 
 island with her father. The Indians had been accustomed to 
 visit Capt. Whidden for the purposes of trade. There was a 
 garrison on the island to secure the inl)abitants from the attacks 
 of the enemy in time of war. 
 
 One morning, a little after daybreak, two boys went out of 
 the garrison and left the gate open. The Indians were on the ' 
 watch, and availing themselves of the opportunity, about ninety 
 entered the garrison. The inhabitants immediately discovered 
 
 ■i 
 
166 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF FRANCES NOBLE. 
 
 ■■^ 
 
 (vl--»,: 
 
 {I 
 i 
 
 that the enemy was upon them ; but there was no escape. 
 Captain Whidden and his wife retreated to the cellar, and con- 
 cealed themselves. Noble and his hired man met the Indians 
 at the head of the stairs, and fired upon them, wounding one 
 of them in the arm. The Indians did not return the fire, but 
 took Noble, his wife, and seven children, with Timothy Whid- 
 den and Mary Holmes, prisoners. The hired man and the 
 two boys escaped. The captives were carried to the water's 
 side and bound ; excepting such as could not run away. The 
 Indians then returned to the garrison, burnt the barn and plun- 
 dered the house, cut open the feather beds, strewed the feath- 
 ers in the field, and carried ofT all the silver and gold they 
 could find, and as much of the provisions as they chose. It 
 was supposed they omitted to burn the house from the suspi- 
 cion that the captain' and his wife, from whom they had, in 
 times of peace, received many favors, were concealed in it. 
 Capt. Whidden, after the destruction of his property on the 
 island, returned to Greenland, in this state, which is supposed 
 to have been his native place, and there died. 
 
 The Indians also took in a wood on the island an old man 
 by the name of Pomeroy, who was employed in making shin- 
 
 §les. Having collected their captives and plunder, they iinme- 
 iately left the island, and commenced their return to Canada to 
 dispose of their prey. Pomeroy was old and feeble, and unable 
 to endure the fatigue of the march, without more assistance than 
 the savages thought fit to render him, and they killed him on 
 the journey. They were more attentive to the children, as for 
 them they undoubtedly expected a higher price or a greater 
 ransom. Abigail, one of the children, died among the Indians. 
 The other captives arrived safe in Canada, and were variously 
 disposed of. Mr. Noble was sold to a baker in Quebec, and 
 his wife to a lady of the same place as a chambermaid. They 
 were allowed to visit each other and to slee^j together. Four 
 of the children were also sold in Quebec, as were Timothy 
 Whidden and Mary Holmes. The captives in that city were 
 exchanged within a year, and returned to their homes. Mr. 
 Whidden and Miss Holmes were afterwards united in mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Fanny Noble, the principal subject of this memoir, at the 
 time of her captivity, was about thirteen months old. She 
 was carried by a party of Indians to Montreal. In their at- 
 tempts to dispose of her, they took her one day to the house 
 of Monsieur Louis St. Auge Charlee, an eminent merchant of 
 that place, who was at that time on a journey to Quebec. His 
 lady was called into the kitchen by one of her maids to see a 
 
•10- 
 
 CAl'liVITYOF FRANCES NOBLE. 
 
 167 
 
 poor infant crawling on the tile floor in dirt and rags, picking 
 apple peelings out of the cracks. She came in, and on kindly 
 noticing the child, Fanny immediately caught hold of the 
 lady's gown, wrapped it over her head, and burst into tears. 
 The lady could not easily resist this appeal to her compassioa. 
 She took up the child, who clung about her neck and repeat- 
 edly embraced her. The Indians offered to sell her their little 
 captive, but she declined buying, not choosing probably in the 
 absence of her husband to venture on such a purchase. The 
 Indians left the house, and slept that night on the pavements 
 before the door. Fanny, who had again heard the voice of 
 kindness, to which she had not been accustomed from her sav* 
 age masters, could not be quiet, but disturbed the slumbers and 
 touched the heart of the French lady by her incessant cries. 
 This lady had then lately lost a child by death, and was per- 
 haps more quick to feel for the suflferings of children, and 
 more disposed to love them, than she would otherwise have 
 been. Early the next morning the Indians were called into 
 the house ; Fanny was purchased, put into a tub of water, and 
 having been thoroughly washed, was dressed in the clothes of 
 the deceased child, and put to bed. She awoke smiling, and 
 seemed desirous of repaying her mistress' kindness by her in- 
 fantile prattle and fond caresses. Fanny could never learn 
 for what price she was bought of the Indians, as her French 
 mother declined answering her questions upon that subject, 
 telling her to be a good girl, and be thankful that she was not 
 still in their power. 
 
 Mons. and Mad. St. Auge took a lively interest in their little 
 captive, and treated her with much tenderness and affection. 
 She felt for them a filial attachment. When her parents were 
 exchanged, her mother, on her return home, called upon Fanny, 
 and took the child in her arms, but no instinct taught her to 
 rejoice in the maternal embrace, and she fled for protection to 
 her French mamma. Mrs. Noble received many presents 
 from the French lady, and had the satisfaction to see that her 
 little daughter was left in affectionate hands. 
 
 Fanny was taught to call and consider Mons. and Mad. St. 
 Auge as her parents. They had her baptized by the name of 
 Eleanor, and educated her in the Roman Catholic religion. 
 She learned her Pater Nosters and Ave Marias, went to mass, 
 crossed herself with holy water, and told her beads with great 
 devotion. 
 
 When four or five years old, she was enticed away from her 
 French parents by Wheelwright, who had been employed by 
 the government of Massachusetts to seek for captives in Can- 
 ada. He carried her to the Three Rivers, where he had sev- 
 
 i 
 
 ^ '-:■: 
 
 I 
 
 ^. 
 
 1 
 
 -Ltf^-. 
 
r 
 
 
 r 
 
 198 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF FRANCEf V^OBTE. 
 
 •ral other captives, and left her, as he pretended, with a rela- 
 tion of her t rench father's for a few days, when she expected 
 to return to Montreal. But she had not been to the Three 
 Rivers more than twentv-four hours, when the old squaw 
 who had sold her to Mad. St. Auge came along in a sleigh, 
 accompanied by a young sanop, seized upon Fanny, and car- 
 ried her to St. Francois, where they kept her about a fortnight. 
 She had now attained an age when sne would be sensible of 
 her misfortunes, and bitterly lamented her separation from her 
 French parents. The Indians endeavored to pacify and please 
 her by drawing on her coat or frock the figures of deers, wolves, 
 bears, fishes, xc, ; and once, probably to make her look as 
 handsomely as themselves, they painted her cheeks in the 
 Indian fashion, which very much distressed her, and the old 
 squaw made them wipe on the paint. At one time she got 
 away from the savages, and sought refuge in the best-look- 
 ing house in the village, which belonged to a French priest, 
 who kissed her, asked her many questions, and treated her 
 kindly, but gave her up to the claim of her Indian masters. 
 While at St. Francois, her brother, Joseph Noble, who had 
 not been sold to the French, but still lived with the Indians, 
 cune to see her, but she had a great aversion to him. He was 
 m his Indian dress, and she would not believe him to be a rela- 
 tion, of speak to him if she could avoid it. She was at last 
 turned back by the Indians to Montreal, and to her great satis- 
 faction was delivered to her French father, who rewarded the 
 Indians for returning her. It was doubtless the expectation of 
 much reward which induced the old squaw to seize her at the 
 Three Rivers, as the Indians not unfrequently stole back cap- 
 tives, in order to extort presents for their return from the 
 French gentlemen to whom the same captives had before been 
 sold. Before this time she had been hastily carried from Mont- 
 real, hurried over mountains and across waters, and concealed 
 among flags, while those who accompanied her were evidently 
 pursued, and in great apprehension of being overtaken ; but 
 the occasion of this flight or its incidents she was too young to 
 understand or distinctly to remember, and she was unable after- 
 wards to satisfy herself whether her French father conveyed 
 her away to keep her out of the reach of her natural friends, 
 or whether she was taken by those friends, and afterwards re- 
 taken as at the Three Rivers and returned to Montreal. The 
 French pajents cautiously avoided informing her upon this 
 subject, or upon any other which should remind her of her cap- 
 tivity, her country, her parents or her friends, lest she should 
 become discontented with her situation, and desirous of leav- 
 ing those who had adopted her. They kept her secreted from 
 
 :t:«-. 
 

 CAPTIVITY OF FRANCES NOBLE. 
 
 160 
 
 cap- 
 the 
 been 
 Mont- 
 ealed 
 ently 
 but 
 ing to 
 after- 
 veycd 
 lends, 
 ds re- 
 The 
 this 
 T cap- 
 Ihould 
 leav- 
 from 
 
 her natural friends, who were in search of her, and evaded 
 every question which might lead to her discovery. One day, 
 when Mons. St. Auge and most of his family were at masSf 
 she was sent with another captive to the third story of the 
 house, and the domestics were required strictly to watch thenfi 
 as it was known that some of her relations were then in the 
 place endeavoring to find her. Of this circumstance she was 
 Ignorant, but she was displeased with her confinement, and 
 with her little companion found means to escape from their 
 room and went below. While raising a cup of water to her 
 mouth, she saw a man looking at her through the window, and 
 stretching out his arm towards her, at the same time speaking 
 a language which she could not understand. She was very 
 much alarmed, threw down her water, and ran with all possi- 
 ble speed to her room. Little did she suppose that it was her 
 own father, from whom she was flying in such fear and horror. 
 He had returned to Canada to seek those of his children whrf* 
 remained there. He could hoar nothing of his Fanny ; but 
 watching the house, he perceived her, as was just stated, and 
 joyfully stretching his arms towards her, exclaimed, *' There 's 
 my daughter! O! that 's my daughter T' But she retreated, 
 and he could not gain admittance, for the house was guarded 
 and no stranger permitted to enter. How long he continued 
 hovering about her is now unknown, but he left Canada with- 
 out embracing her or seeing her again. 
 
 Her French parents put her to a boarding school attached to 
 a nunnery in Montreal, where she remained several years, and 
 was taught all branches of needle-work, with geography, 
 music, painting, &c. In the same school were two Misses 
 Johnsons, who were captured at Charlestown, (No. 4) in 1754, 
 and two Misses Phipps, the daughters of Mrs. Howe, who 
 were taken at Hinsdale in 1755. Fanny was in school when 
 Mrs. Howe came for her daughters, and long remembered the 
 grief and lamentations of the young captives when obliged 
 to leave their school and mates to return to a strange, though 
 their native country, and to relatives whom they had long for- 
 gotten. 
 
 While at school at Montreal, her brother Joseph again vis- 
 ited her. He still belonged to the St. Francois tribe of Indians, 
 and was dressed remarkably fine, having forty or fifty broaches 
 in his shirt, clasps on his arm, and a great variety oi knots and 
 bells about his clothing. He brought his little sister Ellen, as 
 she was then called, and who was then not far from seven 
 years old, a young fawn, a basket of cranberries, and a lump 
 of sap sugar. The little girl was much pleased with the fawn, 
 and had no great aversion to cranberries and sugar, but she- 
 
 16 
 
 J 
 
 H-.«- 
 
V4ii 
 
 170 
 
 CAPTIVITY CF FRANCES NOBLE. 
 
 d: 
 
 h 
 
 <* 
 
 was much frightened by the appearance of Joseph, and would 
 receive nothing from his hands till, at the suggestion of her 
 friends, he had washed the paint from his face and made some 
 alterationjn his dress, when she ventured to accept his offer- 
 ij^s, and irhmediately ran from his presence. The next day, 
 Joseph returned with the Indians to St. Francois, but some 
 time afterwards Mons. St. Avige purchased him of the sava- 
 ges, an4 dressed him in the French style ; but he never ap- 
 peared so bold and majestic, so spirited and vivacious, n when 
 arrayed in his Indian habit and associating with his Indian 
 friends. He however became much attached to St. Auge, who 
 put him to school ; and when his sister parted with him upon 
 leaving Canada, he gave her a strict charge not to let it be 
 known where he was, lest he tpo should be obliged to leave 
 his friends and return to the place of his birth. 
 
 When between eleven and twelve years of age, Fanny was 
 Sent to the school of Ursuline nuns in Quebec, to complete her 
 education. Here the discipline was much more strict and sol- 
 emn than in the school at Montreal. In bothplaces the teach- 
 ers were called half nuns, who, not being professed, were allow- 
 ed to go in and out at pleasure ; but at Quebec the pupils were 
 in a great measure secluded from the world, being permitted 
 to walk only in a small garden by day, and confined by bolts 
 and bars in their cells at night. This restraint was irksome to 
 Fanny. She grew discontented ; and at the close of the year 
 was permitted to return to her French parents at Montreal, and 
 again enter the school in that city. 
 
 While Fanny was in the nunnery, being then in her four- 
 teenth year, she was one day equally surprised and alarmed 
 by the entrance of a stranger, who demanded her of the nuns 
 as a redeemed captive. Her father had. employed this man, 
 Arnold, to seek out his daughter and obtain her from the 
 French, who had hitherto succeeded in detaining her. Arnold 
 was well calculated for this employment. He was secret, sub- 
 tle, resolute and persevering. He had been some time in tie 
 city without exciting a suspicion of bis business. He had 
 ascertained where the captive was to be found — he had pro- 
 cured the necessary powers to secure her, and in his approach 
 to the nunnery was accompanied by a sergeant and a file of 
 men. The nuns were unwilling to deliver up their pupil, and 
 required to know by what right he demanded her. Arnold 
 convinced them that his authority was derived from the gov- 
 ernor, and they durst not disobey. They, however, prolonged 
 the time as much as possible, and sent word to Mons. St. Auge, 
 hoping that he would be able in some way or other to detain 
 his adopted daughter. Arnold however was not to be delayed 
 
 satts 
 
■'W'' 
 
 
 VM 
 
 CAPTIVITY OF FRANCES NOBLE. 
 
 171 
 
 in tie 
 
 le had 
 
 d pro- 
 
 proach 
 
 file of 
 
 il, and 
 
 Arnold 
 
 He gov- 
 
 blonged 
 
 |. Auge, 
 
 detain 
 
 lelayed 
 
 or trifled with. He sternly demanded the captive by tii: ^lame 
 of Noble in the governor's name, and the nuns were awed 
 into submission. Fanny, weeping and trembling, was deKv- 
 ered up by those who wept and trembled too. Sjjje accom- 
 panied Arnold to the gate of the nunnery, but' the idea^pf 
 leaving forever those whom she loved and going with a com- 
 pany of armed men she knew nqt whither, was too^pverwhelra- 
 ing, and she sunk upon the ground. Her cries and, lamenta- 
 tions drew the people around her, and she exclaimed .bitterly 
 against the cruelty of forcing her away, declaring that she could 
 not and would not go any further as a prisoner with those fright- 
 ful soldiers. At this time an English officer appeared in the 
 crowd ; he reasoned with her, soothed her, and persuaded her 
 to walk with him, assuring her the guard should be dismissed 
 and no injury befall her. As they passed by the door of 
 Mons. St. Auge, on their way to the inn, her grief and excla- 
 mations were renewed, and it was Avith great difficulty that 
 she could be persuaded to proceed. But the guard had merely 
 fallen back, and were too near to prevent a rescue, had an at- 
 tempt been made. Capt. M'Clure, the English officer, promised 
 her that she should be permitted to visit her French parents 
 the next day? She found them in tears, but they could not 
 detain her. Mons. St. Auge gave her a handful of money, 
 and embraced her, blessed her, and rushed out of the room. 
 His lady supplied her with clothes, and their parting was most 
 affectionate and afTc.oting. She lived to a considerably ad- 
 vanced age, but she could never speak of this scene without 
 visible and deep emotion. 
 
 She was carried down the river to Quebec, where she tar- 
 ried a few days, and then sailed with Captain Wilson for Bos- 
 ton. She arrived at that port in July, one month before she 
 was fourteen years of age. She was joyfully received by 
 her friends, but her father did not long survive her return. 
 After his death she resided in the family of Capt. Wilson, at 
 Boston, until she had acquired the English language, of which 
 before she was almost entirely ignorant. She then went to 
 Newbury, and lived in the family of a relative of her father, 
 where she found a home, and that peace to which she had long 
 been a stranger. Her education had qualified her for the 
 instruction of youth, and she partially devoted herself to that 
 employment. She was engaged in a school at Hampton, 
 where she formed an acquaintance with Mr. Jonathan Tilton, 
 a gentleman of good property in Kensington, whom she mar- 
 ried about the year 1776. He died in 1798. In 1801, she 
 married Mr. John Shute, of Nevv-Market, and lived in the vil- 
 lage of Newfields in that town till her death, in September, 
 
 •«■ 
 
 '. 
 
 ^ 
 
 % 
 
 fl 
 
m 
 
 w 
 
 #* 
 
 .y 
 
 % 
 
 ■ ^ 
 
 172 
 
 CAPTAIN CARVER'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 1819. She was much respected and esteemed in life, and her 
 death was, as her life had been, that of a Christian. 
 
 % 
 
 CAPTAIN JONATHAN CARVER'S 
 
 NARRATIVE OP HIS CAPTURE, AND SUBSEQUENT ESCAPE 
 FROM THE INDIANS, AT THE BLOODY MASSACRE COMMIT- 
 TED BY THEM, WHEN FORT WILLIAM HENRY FELL INTO 
 THE HANDS OF THE FRENCH, UNDER GEN. MONTCALM, IN 
 THE YEAR 1757. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 Gen. Webb, who commanded the English army in North 
 America, which was then encamped at fort Edward, having 
 intelligence that the French troops under Monsieur Montcalm 
 were making some movements towards fort William Henry, he 
 detached a corps of about fifteen hundred men, consisting of 
 English and provincials, to strengthen the garrison. In this 
 party I went as a volunteer among the latter. 
 
 The apprehensions of the English general were not without 
 foundation ; for the day after our arrival we saw lake George, 
 (formerly lake Sacrament) to which it lies contiguous, covered 
 with an immv?nse number of boats ; and in a few hours we 
 found our lines attacked by the French general, who had just 
 landed with eleven thousand regulars and Canadians, and two 
 thousand Indians. Colonel Monro, a brave officer, commanded 
 in the fort, and had no more than two thousand three hundred 
 men with him, our detachment included. 
 

 '^i- 
 
 Hr 
 
 CAPTAIN CARVER'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 173 
 
 With these he made a gallant defence, and probably would 
 have been able at last to preserve the fort, had he been properly 
 supported, and permitted to continue his efforts. On every 
 summons to surrender sent by the French general, who offered 
 the most honorable terms, his answer repeatedly was, that he 
 yet found himself in a condition to repel the most vigorous 
 attacks his besiegers were able to make; and if he -thought his 
 present force insufficient, he could soon be supplied with a 
 greater number from the adjacent army. 
 
 But the colonel having acquainted General Webb with his 
 situation, and desired he would send him some fresh troops, 
 the general dispatched a messenger to him with a letter, where- 
 in he informed him that it was not in his power to assist him, 
 and therefore gave him orders to surrender up the fort on the 
 best terms he could procure. This packet fell into the hands 
 of the French general, who immediately sent a flag of truce, 
 desiring a conference with the governor. 
 
 They accordingly met, attended only by a small guard, in 
 the centre between the lines ; when Monsieur Montcalm told 
 the colonel, that he was come in person to demand possession 
 of the fort, as it belonged to the king his master. The colonel 
 replied, that he knew not how that could be, nor should he 
 surrender it up whilst it was in his power to defend it. 
 
 The French general rejoined at the same time delivering 
 the packet into the colonel's hand, " By this authority do I 
 make the requisition." The brave governor had no sooner 
 read the contents of it, and was convinced that such were the 
 orders of the commander-in-chief, aad not to be disobeyed, 
 than he hung his head in silence, and reluctantly entered into 
 a negotiation. 
 
 In consideration of the gallant defence the garrison had made, 
 they were to be permitted to .uireh out with all the honors of 
 war, to be allowed covered wagons to transport their baggage 
 to fort Edward, and a guard to protect them from the fury of 
 the savages. 
 
 The morning after the capitulation wus signed, as soon as 
 day broke, the whole garrison, now consisting of about two 
 thousand men, besides women and children, were drawn up 
 within the lines, and on the point of marching off, when great 
 numbers of the Indians gathered about, and began to plunder. 
 We were at first in hopes that this was their only view, and 
 suffered them to proceed without opposition. Indeed it was 
 not in our power to make any, had we been so inclined ; for 
 though we were permitted to carry off our arms, yet we were 
 not allowed a single round of ammunition. In these hopes 
 however we were disappointed ; for presently some of them 
 15=^ 
 
 ..-,* 
 
 *i 
 
 ' H 
 
174 
 
 -^ 
 
 CAPTAIN CARVER'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 Y 
 
 M. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 a 
 
 \ \ 
 
 began to attack the sick and wounded, when such as were not 
 able to crawl into the ranksi, notwithstanding they endeavored 
 to avert the fury of their enemies by their shrieks or groans, 
 were soon dispatched. 
 
 Here we were fully in expectation that the disturbance would 
 have coQpluded ; and our little army began to move ; but in a 
 short time we saw the front division driven back, and discov- 
 ered that 'we we|re entirely encircled by the savages. We 
 expected every moment that the guard, which vhe French, by 
 the articles of capitulation, had agreed to allow us, would have 
 arrived, and put aif end to our apprehensions ; but none ap- 
 peared. The Indians now began to strip every one without 
 exception of their arms and clothes, and those who made the 
 least resistance felt the weight of their tomahawks. 
 
 I happened to be in the rear division, but it was not long 
 before I shared the fate of my companions. Three or four of 
 the savages laid hold of me, and whilst some held their wea- 
 pons over my head, the others soon disrobed me of my coat, 
 waistcoat, hat and buckles, omitting not to take from me what 
 money I had in my pocket. As this was transacted close by 
 the passage that led from the lines on to the plain, near which 
 a French sentinel was posted, I rt,ii to him and claimed his 
 protection ; but he only called me an English dog, and thrust 
 me with violence back again into the midst of the Indians. 
 
 I now endeavored to join a body of our troops that were 
 crowded together at some distance ; but innumerable were the 
 blows that were made at me with different weapons as I passed 
 on ; luckily however the savages were so close together that 
 they could not strike at me without endangering each other. 
 Notwithstanding which one of them found means to make a 
 thrust at me with a spear, which grazed my side, and from 
 another I received a wound, with the same kind of weapon, in 
 my ankle. At length I gained the spot where my countrymen 
 stood, and forced myself into the midst of them. But before 
 I got thus far out of the hands of the Indians, the collar and 
 wristbands of my shirt were all that remained of it, and my 
 flesh wati scratched and torn in many places by their savage 
 gripes. 
 
 By this time the war-whoop was given, and the Indians 
 began to murder those that were nearest to them without dis- 
 tinction. It is not in the power of words to give any tolerable 
 idea of the horrid scene that now ensued; men, women, and 
 children were dispatched in the most wanton and cruel man- 
 ner, and immediately scalped. Many of these savages drank 
 the blood of their victims, as it flowed warm from the fatal 
 wound. 
 
CAPTAIN CARVER'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 176 
 
 dians 
 t dis- 
 rable 
 and 
 man- 
 Irank 
 fatal 
 
 We now perceived, though too late to avail us, that we were 
 to expect no relief from the French ; and that, contrary to the 
 agreement they had so lately signed to allow us a suiRcient 
 force to protect us from these insults, they taciijy permitted 
 them ; for I could plainly perceive the French officers walking 
 about at some distance, discoursing together with apparent 
 unconcern. For the honor of human nature I would hope that 
 this flagrant breach of every sacred law proceeded rather from 
 the savage disposition of the Indians, which I jicknowledge it 
 is sometimes almost impossible to control, and which might 
 now unexpectedly have arrived to a pitch not easily to be 
 restrained, than to any premeditated design in the French 
 commander. An unprejudiced observer would, however, be 
 apt to conclude, that a body of ten thousand christian troops, 
 most christian troops, had it in their power to prevent the mas- 
 sacre from becoming so general. But whatever was the cause 
 from which it arose, the consequences of it were dreadful, and 
 not to be paralleled in modern history. 
 
 As the circle in which I stood inclosed by this time was much 
 thinned, and death seemed to be approaching with hasty strides, 
 it was proposed by some of the most resolute to make one 
 vigorous effort, and endeavor to force our way through the 
 savages, the only probable method of preserving our lives that 
 now remained. This, however desperate, was resolved on, 
 and about twenty of us sprung at once into the midst of them. 
 
 In a moment we were all separated, and what was the fate 
 of my companions I could 'not learn till some months aft?r, 
 when I found that only six or seven of them effected their 
 design. Intent only on my own hazardous situation, I endea- 
 vored to make my way through my savage enemies in the best 
 manner possible. And I have often been astonished since, 
 when I have recollected with what composure I took, as I did, 
 every necessary step for my preservation. Some I overturned, 
 being at that time young and athletic, and others I passed by, 
 dexterously avoiding their Aveapons ; till at last two very stout 
 chiefs, of the most savage tribes, as I could distinguish by their 
 dress, whose strength I could not resist, laid hold of me by 
 each arm, and began to force me through the crowd. 
 
 I now resigned myself to my fate, not doubting but that they 
 intended to dispatch me, .and then to satiate their vengeance 
 with my blood, as I found they were hurrying me towards a 
 retired swamp that lay at some distance. But before we had 
 got many yards, an English gentleman of some distinction, as 
 I could discover by his breeches, the only covering he had on, 
 which were of fine scarlet velvet, rushed close by us. One or 
 the Indians instantly relinquished his hold, and springing on 
 
 ^ 
 
 i ^'li 
 
176 
 
 CAPTAIN CARVER'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 ifi r 
 
 this new object, endeavored to seize him as his prey ; but the 
 gentleman being strong, threw him on the ground, and would 
 probably have got away, had not he who held my other arm 
 quitted me to assist his brother. I seized the opportunity, and 
 hastened aw«iy to join another party of English troops that 
 were yet unbroken, and stood in a body at some distance. But 
 before I had taken many steps, I hastily cast my eye towards 
 the gentleman, and saw the Indian's tomahawk gash into his 
 back, and heard him utter his last groan. This added both to 
 my speed and desperation. 
 
 I had left this shocking scene but a few yards, when a fine 
 boy about twelve years of age, that had hitherto escaped, came 
 up to me, and begged that I would let him lay hold of me, so 
 that he might stand some chance of getting out of the hands 
 of the savages. I told him that I would give him every assis- 
 tance in my power, and to this purpose bid him lay hold ; but 
 in a few nriments he was torn from my side, and by his shrieks 
 I judge was soon demolished. I could not help forgetting my 
 own cares for a minute, to lament the fate of so young a suf- 
 ferer ; but it was utterly impossible for me to take any methods 
 to prevent it. 
 
 I now got once more into the midst of frier ds, but we were 
 unable to afford each other any succor. As this was the divi- 
 sion that had advanced the fartjiest from the fort, I thought 
 there might be a possibility (though but a bare one) of my 
 forcing my way through the outer ranks of the Indians, and 
 getting to a neighboring wood, which I perceived at some dis- 
 tance. I was still encouraged to hope by the almost miraculous 
 preservation i had already experienced. 
 
 Nor were my hopes in vain, or the efforts I made ineffectual. 
 Suffice to say, that I reached the wood ; but by the time I had 
 penetrated a little way mto it, my breath was so exhausted 
 that I threw myself into a break, and lay for some minutes 
 apparently at the last gasp. At length I recovered the power 
 of respiration ; but my apprehensions returned with all their 
 former orce, when I saw several savages pass by, probably in 
 pursuit of me, at no v y great distance. In this situation I 
 knew not whether it was better to proceed, or endeavor to con- 
 ceal myself where I lay till night cai.ie on ; fearing, however, 
 that they would return the same way, I thought it most prudent 
 to get further from the dreadful scene of my distresses. Ac- 
 cordingly, striking into another part of the wood, I hastened 
 on as fast as the biiers and the loss of one of my shoes would 
 
 Eermit roe ; and after a slow progress of some hours, gained a 
 ill that overlooked the plain which I had just left, from whence 
 
; but the 
 id would 
 ther arm 
 nity, and 
 )ops that 
 ice. But 
 ; towards 
 1 into his 
 id both to 
 
 len a fine 
 )ed, came 
 of me, so 
 he hands 
 ery assis- 
 lold ; but 
 is shrieks 
 stting my 
 ing a suf- 
 T methods 
 
 we were 
 the divi- 
 I thought 
 e) of my 
 ians, and 
 some dis- 
 iraculous 
 
 effectual, 
 me I had 
 xhausted 
 minutes 
 \e power 
 all their 
 obably in 
 tuation I 
 )r to con- 
 lowever, 
 t prudent 
 es. Ac- 
 hastened 
 es would 
 gained a 
 whence 
 
 CAPTAIN CARVER'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 177 
 
 I could discern that the bloody storm still raged with unabated 
 fury. 
 
 But not to tire my readers, I shall only add, that after pass- 
 ing three days without subsistence, and enduring the severity 
 of the cold dews for three nights, I at length reached fort Ed- 
 ward; where with proper care my body soon recovered its 
 wonted strength, and my mind, as far as the recollection of the 
 late molancbrly events would permit, its usual composure. 
 
 It was computed that fifteen hundred persons were killed or 
 made prisoners by these savages during this fatal day. Many 
 of the latter were carried off by them and never returned. A 
 few, through favorable accidents, found their way back to their 
 native country, after having experienced a long and severe 
 captivity. 
 
 The brave Col. Monro had hastened away, soon after the 
 confusion began, to the French camp, to endeavor to procure 
 the guard agreed by the stipulation ; but his application prov- 
 ing ineffectual, he remained there till General Webb sent a 
 party of troops to demand and protect him back to fort Edward. 
 But these unhappy concurrences, which would probably have 
 been prevented had he been left to pursue his own plans, 
 together with the loss of so many brave fellows, murdered in 
 cold blood, to whose valor he had been so lately a witness, 
 made such an impression on his mind that he did not long 
 survive. He died in about three months of a broken heart, and 
 with truth might it be said that he was an honor to his coun- 
 try. 
 
 I mean not to point out the following circumstance as the 
 immediate judgment of heaven, and intended as an atonement 
 for this slaughter ; but I cannot omit that very few of those 
 different tribes of Indians that shared in it ever lived to return 
 home. The small-pox, by means of their communication with 
 the Europeans, found its way among them, and made an equal 
 havoc to what they themselves had done. The methods they 
 pursued on the first attack of that malignant disorder, to abate 
 the fever attending it, rendered it fatal. Whilst their blood 
 was in a state of fermentation, and nature was striving to throw 
 out the peccant matter, they checked her operations by plung- 
 ing into the water ; the consequence was that they died by 
 hundreds. The few that survived were transformed by it into 
 hideous objects, and bore with them to the grave deep indented 
 marks of this much dreaded disease. 
 
 Monsieur Montcalm fell soon after on the plains of Quebec. 
 
 That the unprovoked cruelty of this commander was not 
 approved of by the generality of his countrymen, I have since 
 been convinced of by many proofs. One only, however, which 
 
 u 
 
 
 f '. 
 
 % I 
 
 « 
 
 " 
 
t 
 
 178 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 I received from a person who was witness to it, shall I at pre- 
 sent give. A Canadian merchant, of some consideration, 
 having heard of the surrender of the English fort, celebrated 
 the fortunate event with great rejoicings and hospitality, ac- 
 cording to the custom of that country ; but no sooner did the 
 news of the massacre which ensued reach his ears, than he 
 put an immediate stop to the festivity, and exclaimed in the 
 severest teri;|ns against the inhuman permission ; declaring at 
 the same time that those who had connived at it had thereby 
 drawn down on that part of their king's dominions the ven- 
 geance of Heaven. To this he added, that he much feared the 
 total loss of them would deservedly be the consequence. How 
 truly this prediction has been verified we well know. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT 
 
 OP THE REMARKABLE OCCURRENCES IN THE LIFE AND 
 TRAVELS OF COLONEL JAMES SMITH, (LATE A CITIZEN OP 
 BOURBON COUNTY, KENTUCKY,) DURING HIS CAPTIVITY 
 WITH THE INDIANS, IN THE YEARS 1755, '56, '57, '58, AND '59. 
 In which the Customs, Manners, Traditions, Theological Sentiments, Mode 
 of Warfare, Military Tactics, Discipline and Encampments, Treatment of 
 Prisoners, &c. are better explained, and more minutely related, than has been 
 heretofore done by any author on that subject. Together with a description 
 of the Soil, Timber and Waters, where iie travelled with the Indians during 
 his captivity. — To which is added a brief account of some very uncommon 
 occurrences which transpired after his return from captivity ; as well as of 
 the different campaigns carried on against the Indians to the westward of 
 ^utt Pitt, since the year 1755, to the present date, 1799.— Written by himself. 
 
 ■f 
 
 Preface. — I was strongly urged to publish the following 
 work immediately after ifiy return from captivity, which was 
 nearly forty years ago ; but, as at that time the Americans 
 were so little acquainted with Indian affairs, I apprehended a 
 great part of it would be viewed as fable or romance. 
 
 As the Indians never attempted to prevent me either from 
 reading or writing, I kept a journal, which I revised shortly 
 after my return from captivity, and which I have kept ever 
 since ; and as I have had but a moderate English education, 
 have been advised -to employ some person of liberal education 
 to transcribe and embellish it — but believing that nature always 
 outshines art, have thought, that occurrences truly and plainly 
 
 I. : 
 
 SS 
 
 tmmim<!smmma~m* 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 179 
 
 :ans 
 3d a 
 
 stated, as they happened, would make the best history, be bet- 
 ter understood, and most entertaining. 
 
 In the different Indian speeches copied into this work, I have 
 not only imitated their own style, or mode of speaking, but have 
 also preserved the ideas meant to be communicated in those 
 speeches. In common conversation I have used my own style, 
 but preserved their ideas. The principal advantage that I 
 expect will result to the public, from the publication of the fol- 
 lowinc;^ sheets, is the observations on the Indian mode of warfare. 
 Experience has taught the Americans the necessity of adopting 
 their mode ; and the more perfect we are in that mode, the 
 better we shall be able to defend ourselves against them, when 
 defence is necessary. 
 
 JAMES SMITH. 
 
 Bourbon County^ June \st, 1799. 
 
 Introduction. — More than thirty years have elapsed since the publica- 
 tion of Col. Smith's journal. The only edition ever presented to the pub- 
 lic was printed in Lexington, Kentucky, by John Bradford, in 1799. That 
 edition being in pamphlet form, it is presumed that there is not now a 
 dozen entire copies remaining. A new generation has sprung up, and it is 
 believed the time has now arrived, when a second edition, in a more dura- 
 ble form, will be well received by the public. The character of Colonel 
 Smith is well known in the western country, especially amongst the vete- 
 ran pioneers of Kentucky and Tennessee. He was a patriot in the strictest 
 sense of the word. His whole life was devoted to the service of his coun- 
 try. Raised, as it were, in the wilderness, he received but a limited edu- 
 cation ; yet nature had endowed him with a vigorous constitution, and a 
 strong and sensible mind ; and whether in the camp or the halls of legis- 
 lation, he gave ample proofs of being, by practice as well as profe.. jion, a 
 soldier and a statesman. 
 
 During the war of 1811 and 12, being then too old to be serviceable in 
 the field, he made a tender of his experience, and published a treatise on 
 the Indian mode of warfare, with which sad experience had made him so 
 well acquainted. He died shortly afterwards, at the house of a brother- 
 in-law, in Washington county, Kentucky. He was esteemed by ail who 
 knew him as an exemplary Christian, and a consistent and unwavering 
 patriot. 
 
 By his first marriage, he had several children ; and two of his sons, 
 William and James, it is believed, are now living. The name of his first 
 wife is not recollected. 
 
 In the year 1785, he intermarried with Mrs. Margaret Irvin, the widow 
 of Mr. Abraham Irvin. Mrs. Irvin was a lady of a highly cultivated 
 mind ; and had she lived in more auspicious times, and possessed the 
 advantages of many of her sex, she would have made no ordinary figure 
 as a writer, both in prose and verse. And it may not be uninteresting to 
 the friends of Col. Smith to give a short sketch of her life. Her maiden 
 name was Rodgers. ?.ho was born in the year 1744, in Hanover county, 
 Virginia. She was of a respectable family ; her father and the Rev. Dr. 
 Rodgers, of New York, were brothers' children. Her mother was sister 
 to the Rev. James Caldwell, who was killed by the British and tories at 
 Elizabeth Point, New Jersey. Her father removed, when she was a child, 
 
 •# 
 
 
 
 inBij 
 
 m 
 
180 ^ 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 to what was then called Lunenburg, now Charlotte county, Virgin'i. She 
 never went to school but three months, and that at the age of five years. 
 At the expiration of that term the school ceased, and she had no opportU' 
 nity tc' attend one afterwards. Her mother, h'^wever, being an intelligent 
 woman, and an excellent scholar, gave her i.v::;<'.>s at home. On the 5th 
 of November, 1764, she was married to f-h . l:v\ix, a respectable man, 
 though in moderate circumstances. In the year 1777, when r,very true 
 friend ol his country felt it his duly to render some personal service, he 
 and a neighbor, by the name of William Handy, agreed that they would 
 enlist for the |erm of three years, and each to serve eighteen months: 
 Irvin to serve the first half, and Handy the second. Mr. Irvin entereci 
 upon duty, in company with many others from that section of the country. 
 When they 'iid marched to Dumfries, Va., before they joined the mam 
 army, they were ordered to halt, and inoculate for the small-pox. Irvin 
 neglected to inoculate, under the impression he had had the disease during 
 infancy. The consequence was, he took the smali-pox in the natural way, 
 and died, leaving Mrs. Irvin, and five small children, four sons and a 
 daughter. 
 
 In the fall of 1782, Mrs. Irvin removed, in company with a number of 
 enterprising Virginians, to the wilds of Kentucky ; and three years after- 
 wards intermarried with Col. Smith, by whom she had no issue. She died 
 ak)ut the year 1800, in Bourbon county, Kentucky, in the 56th year of 
 lup* age. She was a member of the Presbyterian church, and sustained 
 t&Tough life an unblemished reputation. In early life she wrote but little, 
 most of her productions being the fruits of her maturer years, and while 
 she was the wife of Col. Smith. But littlC'' of her composition has ever 
 been put to press j but her genius and taste we /e always acknowledged by 
 those who had access to the productions of her pen. She had a hapw 
 talent for pa.storal poetry, and many fugitive pieces ascribed to her wm 
 lo.i'i be cherished and admired by the children ot .song. 
 
 Narrative. — In May, 1755, the province of Pennsylvania 
 a^eed to send out three hundred men, in order .o cut a wagon 
 road from fort Loudon, to join Braddock's road, njar the Tur- 
 key Foot, or three forks of Yohogania. My brother-in-law, 
 William Smith, Esq. of Conococheague, was appointed com- 
 missioner, to have the oversight of these road-cutters. 
 
 Though I was at that time only eighteen years of age, I had 
 fallen violently in love with a young lady, whom I apprehended 
 was possessed of a large share of both beauty and virtue ; but 
 being born betwet3n Venus and Mars, I concluded I must also 
 leave my dear fair one; and go out with this company of road- 
 cutters, to see the event of this campaign ; but still expecting 
 that some time in the course of this summer I should again 
 return to the arms of my beloved. 
 
 We went on with the road, without interruption, until near 
 the Alleghany mountain ; when I was sent back, in order to 
 hurry up some provision -wagons that were on the way after 
 us. I proceeded down the road as far as the crossings of Ju- 
 niata, where, finding the wagons were coming on as fast as 
 possible, I returned up the road again towards he Alleghany 
 
 •m 
 
COLONEL SMITHS CAPTIVITY. * 
 
 * 181 
 
 mountain, in company with one Arnold Vigoras. About four 
 or five miles above Bedford, three Indians had made a blind of 
 bushes, stuck in the ground, as though they grew naturally, 
 where thoy concealed themselves, about fifteen yards from the 
 roiid. When we car-e opposite to them, they fired upon us, at 
 this short distance, and killed my fellow-traveller, yet their 
 bullets did not touch me ; but my horse making a violent start, 
 threw me, and the Indians immediately ran up aftd took me 
 prisoner. The one that laid hold on me was a Canasatauga, 
 
 the other two were Delaw: 
 English, and asked me i'' 
 
 coming after. I told thi in 
 of these Indians stood b\ 
 comrade ; they then set off ; 
 
 One of them could speak 
 ' were any more white men 
 ^ar that I knew of. Two 
 ' SI the other scalped my 
 ..til .it a smart rate through the 
 woods, for about fifteen miles, and that night we slept on the 
 Alleghany mountain, without fire. 
 
 The next morning they divided the last of their provision 
 which they had brought from fort Du Quesne, and gave me adif' 
 equal share, which was about two or three ounces of mouldy*^ 
 biscuit ; this and a young ground-hog, about as large as a rab- 
 bit, roasted, and also equally divided, was all the provision we 
 had until we came to the Loyal Hantian, which was about fifty 
 miles ; and a great part of the way we came through exceed- 
 ing rocky laurel thickets, without any path. When we came 
 to the west side of Laurel hill, they gave the scalp halloo, as 
 usual, which is a long yell or halloo for every scalp or prisoner 
 they have in possession ; the last of these scalp halloos were 
 followed with quick and sudden shrill shouts of joy and tri- 
 umph. On their performing this, we were answered by the 
 firing of a number of guns on the Loyal Hannan, one after 
 another, quicker than one could count, by another party of 
 Indians, who were encamped near where Ligoneer now stands. 
 As we advanced near this party, they increased with repeated 
 shouts of joy and triumph ; but I did not share with them in 
 their excessive mirth. When we came to this camp, we found 
 they had plenty of turkeys and other meat there ; and though 
 I never before eat venison without bread or salt, yet as I was 
 hungry it relished very well. There we lay that night, and 
 the next morning the whole of us marched on our way for fort 
 Du Quesne. The night after we joined another camp of In- 
 dians, with nearly the same ceremony, attended with great 
 noise, and apparent joy, among all except one. The next 
 morning we continued our march, and in the afternoon we came 
 in full view of the fort, which stood on the point, near where 
 fort Pitt now stands. We then made a halt on the bank of the 
 Alleghany, and repeated the scalp halloo, which was answered 
 
 16 
 
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 IMAGE EVALUATION 
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 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) S72-4S03 
 

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 183 
 
 tt 
 
 
 ,§0LONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 by the firing of all the firelocks in the hands of both Indians 
 
 and French who were in and about the fort, in the aforesaid 
 
 manner, and also the great guns, which were followed by the 
 
 ** continued shouts and yells of the different savage tribes who 
 
 were then collected there. 
 ■0 As I was at this time unacquainted with this mode of firing 
 
 and yelling of the savages, I concluded that there were thou- 
 sands of Indians there ready to receive General Braddock ; but 
 what added to my surprise, I saw numbers running towards 
 me, stripped naked, excepting breech-clouts, and painted in the 
 most hideous manner, of various colors, though the principal 
 QoloT was Vermillion, or a bright red ; yet there was annexed to 
 '''^his black, brown, blue, &c. As they approached, they formed 
 themselves into two long ranks, about two or three rods apart. 
 I was told by an Indian that could speak English, that I must 
 run betwixt these ranks, and that they would flog me all the 
 way as I ran ; and if I ran quick, it would be so much the 
 %tter, as they would quit when I got to the end of the ranks, 
 ^here appeared to be a general rejoicing around me, yet I 
 could find nothing like joy in my breast ; but I started to the 
 race with all the resolution and vigor I was capable of exerting, 
 and found that it was as I had been told, for I v;as flogged the 
 whole way. When I had got near the end of the lines, I was 
 struck with something that appeared to me to be a stick, or the 
 handle of a tomahawk, which caused me to fall to the ground. 
 On my recovering my senses, I endeavored to renew my race ; 
 but as I arose, some one cast sand in my eyes, which blinded 
 me so that I could not see where to run. They continued 
 beating me most intolerably, until I was at length insensible ; 
 but before I lost my senses, I remember my wishing them to 
 strike the fatal blow, for I thought they intended killing me, 
 but apprehended they were too long about it. 
 
 The first thing I remember was my being in the fort amidst 
 the French and Indians, and a French doctor standing by me, 
 who had opened a vein in my left arm : after which the inter- 
 preter asked me how I did ; I told him I felt much pain. The 
 doctor then washed my wounds, and the bruised places of my 
 body, with French brandy. As I felt faint, and the brandy 
 smelt well, I asked for some inwardly, but the doctor told me, 
 by the interpreter, that it did not suit my case. 
 
 When they found I could speak, a number of Indians came 
 
 ^ J around me, and examined me, with threats of cruel death if I 
 
 did not tell the truth. The first question they asked me was 
 
 . how many men were there in the party that were coming from 
 
 Pennsylvania to join Braddock ? I told them the truth, that 
 
 there were three hundred. The next question was, were they 
 
 ^* 
 
•ii3i 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ^ 188 
 
 ndians 
 sresaid 
 by the 
 es who 
 
 f firing 
 •e thou- 
 :k; but 
 towards 
 i in the 
 rincipal 
 lexed to 
 ' formed 
 Is apart. 
 1 1 must 
 e all the 
 luch the 
 le ranks, 
 le, yet I 
 ed to the 
 exerting, 
 gged the 
 ,es, I was 
 ;k, or the 
 
 ground, 
 ny race ; 
 1 blinded 
 
 ontinued 
 sensible ; 
 
 them to 
 
 lling me, 
 
 rt amidst 
 g hy me, 
 the inter- 
 lin. The 
 |es of my 
 brandy 
 told me, 
 
 ans cf&ie 
 ieath if I 
 me was 
 lling from 
 futh, that 
 «rere they 
 
 well armed ? I told them they were all well armed, (meaning 
 the arm of flesh,) for they had only about thirty guns among 
 the whole of them ; which if the Indians had known, they | 
 would certainly have gone and cut them all off; therefore, I 
 could not in conscience let them know the defenceless situation 
 of these road-cutters. I was then sent to the hospital, and 
 carefully attended by the doctors, and recovered quicker than 
 what I expected. % 
 
 Some time after I was there, I was visited by the Delaware 
 Indian already mentioned, who was at the taking of me, and 
 could speak some English. Though he spoke but bad English, 
 yet I found him to be a man of considerable understanding. 
 I asked him if I had done any thing that had offended the InW 
 dians which caused them to treat me so unmercifully. He 
 said no ; it was only an old custom the Indians had, and it was 
 li\pe how do you do ; after that, he said, I would be well used. 
 I asked him if I should be admitted to remain with the French. 
 He said no ; and told mp that, as soon as I recovered, I millfc 
 not only go with the Indians, but must be made an Indian mvb 
 self. I asked him what news from Braddock's army. He 
 said the Indians spied them every day, and he showed me, by 
 making marks on the ground with a stick, that Braddock's 
 army was advancing in very close order, and that the Indians 
 would surround them, take trees, and (as he expressed it) shoot 
 um down all one pigeon. 
 
 Shortly after this, on the 9th day of July, 1755, in the 
 morning, I heard a great stir in the fort. As I could then 
 walk with a staff in my hand, I went out of the door, which 
 was just by the wall of the foVt, and stood upon the wall, and 
 viewed the Indians in a huddle before the gate, where were 
 barrels of powder, bullets, flints, &c., and every ono taking 
 what suited. I saw the Indians also march off in rank entire ; 
 likewise the French Canadians, and some regulars. After 
 viewing the Indians and French in different positions, I com- 
 puted them to be about four hundred, and wondered that they 
 attempted to go out against Braddock with so small a party. 
 I was then in high hopes that I would soon see them fly before 
 the British troops, and that General Braddock would take the 
 fort and rescue me. 
 
 I remained anxious to know the event of this day ; and, in 
 the afternoon, I again observed a great noise and commotion 
 in the fort, and though at that time I could not understand 
 French, yet I found that it was the voice of joy and triumph, 
 and feared that they had received what I called bad news. 
 
 I had observed some of the old country soldiers speak 
 Dutch : as I spoke Dutch, I went to one of them, and asked 
 
 i 
 
 ^P" 
 
 « M 
 
 ■A 
 
m 
 
 m 
 
 \*s 
 
 
 184 
 
 * 
 
 :k''^^ 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 him what was the news. He told me that a runner had just 
 arrived, who said that Braddock would certainly be defeated ; 
 that the Indians and French had surrounded him, and were 
 concealed behind trees and in gullies, and kept a constant fire 
 upon the English, and that ihey saw the English falling in 
 heaps, and if th#y did not take the river, which was the only 
 gap, and make their escape, there would not be one man left 
 alive heforeilundown. Some time after this I heard a number 
 of scalp halloos, and saw a company of Indians and French 
 coming in. I observed they had a ^teat many bloody scalps, 
 grenadiers' caps, British canteens, bayonets, &c. with them. 
 They brought the news that Braddock was defeated. After 
 tha^' another company came in, which appeared to be about one 
 hundred, and chiefly Indians, and it seemed to me that almost 
 every one of this company was. ^carrying scalps; after this 
 came another company with a number of wagon horses, and 
 also a great many scalps. Those that were coming in, and 
 w)se that had arrived, kept a constant firing of small arms, 
 l^d also the great guns in the fort, which were accompanied 
 with the most hideous shouts and yells from all quarters ; so 
 that it appeared to me as if the infernal regions had broke 
 loose. 
 
 About sundown I beheld a small party coming in with 
 about a dozen prisoners, stripped naked, with theii^ands tied 
 behind their backs, and their faces and part of their bodies 
 blacked ; these prisoners they burned to death on the bank of 
 Alleghany river, opposite to the fort. I stood on the fort wall 
 until I beheld them begin to burn one of e men; they 
 had him tied to a stake, and kept touching hi; ith firebrands, 
 red-hot irons, &c., and he screamed in a most doleful manner ; 
 the Indians, in the mean time, yelling like infernal spirits. 
 
 As this scene appeared too shocking for me to behold, I 
 retired to my lodgings both sore and sorry. 
 
 When I came into my lodgings I saw Russel's Seven Ser- 
 mons, which they had brought from the field of battle, which a 
 Frenchman made a present to me. From the best information 
 I could receive, there were only seven Indians and four French 
 killed in this battle, and five hundred British lay dead in the 
 field, besides what were killed in the river on their retreat. 
 
 The morning after the battle I saw Braddock's artillery 
 brought into the fort ; the same day I also saw several Indians 
 in British officers' dress, with sash, half moon, laced hats, &c., 
 which the British then wore. 
 
 A few days after this the Indians demanded me, and I was 
 obliged to go with them. I was not yet well able to march, 
 but they took me in a canoe up the Alleghany river to an In- 
 
 
 J&* % 
 
«. 
 
 It 
 
 COLONEL SMITHS CAPTIVITY. > 
 
 %* 186 
 
 lad just 
 sfeated ; 
 id were 
 tant fire 
 lUing in 
 he only 
 nan left 
 number 
 
 French 
 J scalps, 
 h thern. 
 . After 
 bout one 
 it almost 
 Fter this 
 rses, atid 
 
 in, and 
 Eili arms, 
 mpanied 
 rters; so 
 ad broke 
 
 in with 
 inds tied 
 ir bodies 
 } bank of 
 fort wall 
 m; they 
 rebrands, 
 manner ; 
 
 (irits. 
 
 )ehold, I 
 
 ven Ser- 
 
 which a 
 
 brmation 
 
 French 
 
 id in the 
 
 reat. 
 
 artillery 
 
 Indians 
 
 lats, &c., 
 
 nd I was 
 march, 
 to an In- 
 
 dian town, that was on the north side of the river, about forty 
 miles above fort Du Quesne. Here I remained about three 
 weeks, and was then taken to an. Indian town on the west 
 branch of Muskingum, about twenty miles above the forks, 
 which was called TuUihag, inhabited by Delawares, Caughne- 
 wagas, and Mohicans. On our route betwixt the aforesaid 
 towns the country was chiefly black oak an(f white oak land, 
 which appeared generally to be good wheat land, oj^iefly second 
 and third rate, intermixed with some rich bottoms. 
 
 The day after my ari^yal at the aforesaid town, a number 
 of Indians collected about me, and one of them began to puU 
 the hair out of my head. He' had some ashes on a piece of 
 bark, in which he frequently dipped his fingers, in ordir to 
 take the firmer hold, and so he went on, as if he had been 
 plucking a turkey, until he had all the hair clean out of my 
 head, except a small spot alHout three or four inches square on 
 my crown; this they cut off with a pair of scissors, excepting 
 three locks, which they dressed up in their own mode. T^ 
 of these they wrapped round with a narrow beaded garter 
 made by themselves for that purpose, and the other they plait^ 
 at full length, a^jd then stuck it full of silver brooches. After 
 this they bored my nose and ears, and fixed me off with ear- 
 rings and nose jewels ; then they ordered me to strip off my 
 clothes and put on a breech-clout, which I did ; they then 
 painted ni^ head, face, and- body, in various colors. They put 
 a, large belt of wampum on my neck, and silver bands on my 
 hands and right arm ; and so an old chief led me out in the 
 street, and gave the alarm halloo, coo-wight several times 
 repeated quick ; and on this, all that were in the town came 
 running and stood round the old chief, who held me by the 
 hand in the midst. As I at that time knew nothing of their 
 mode of adoption, and had seen them put to death all they had 
 taken, and as I never could find that they saved a man alive 
 at Braddock's defeat, I made no doubt but they were about 
 
 Eutting me to death in some cruel manner. The old chief, 
 olding me by the hand, made a long speech, very loud, and 
 when he had done, he handed me to three young squaws, 
 who led me by the hand down the bank, into the river, until 
 the water was up to our middle. The squaws then made signs 
 to me to plunge myself into the water, but I did not understand 
 them ; I thought that the result of the council was that I 
 should be drowned, and that these young ladies were to be the 
 executioners. They all three laia violent hold of me, and I 
 for some time opposed them with all my might, which occa- 
 sioned loud laughter by the multitude that were on the bank 
 of the river. At length one of the squaws made out to speajlf 
 
 16* 
 
 ■»■. 
 
 « 
 
 n 
 
 f 
 
 {?i. 
 
t- 
 
 ^T 
 
 
 
 #■ 
 
 m 
 
 .-f^.y?"" 
 
 V5 
 
 186 # 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 a little English, (for I believe they began to be afraid of me,) 
 and said no hurt you. On this I gave myself up to their lady- 
 sliips, who were as good as their word ; for though they 
 plunged me under water, and washed and rubbed me severely, 
 yet I could not say they hurt me much. 
 
 These young women then led me up to the council house, 
 where some of the tribe were ready with new clothes for me. 
 They gave jgie a nev/ ruffled shirt, which I put on, also a pair 
 of leggins done off with ribbons and beads, likewise a pair of 
 moccasins, and garters dressed with beads, porcupine quills, 
 and red hair — also a tinsel laced cappo. They again painted 
 my head and face with various colors, and tied a bunch of red 
 feathers to one of those locks they had left on the crown of 
 my head, which stood up five or six inches. They seated me 
 on a bearskin, and gave m& a pipe, tomahawk, and polecat- 
 skin pouch, which had been skinned pocket fashion, and con- 
 tained tobacco, killegenico, or dry sumach leaves, which they 
 mix with their tobacco ; also spunk, flint, and steel. When I 
 was thus seated, the Indians came in dressed and painted in 
 meir grandest manner. As they came in they took their seats, 
 and for a considerable time there was a profound silence — 
 every one Avas smoking ; but not a word was spoken among 
 them. At length one of the chiefs made a speech, which was 
 delivered to me by an interpreter, and was as followeth : •' My 
 son, you are now flesh of our flesh, aiid bone of our bone. By 
 the ceremony which was performed this day every drop of 
 white blood was washed out of your veins ; you are taken into 
 the Caughnewago nation, and initiated into a warlike tribe ; 
 you are adopted into a great family, and now received with great 
 seriousness and solemuity in the room and place of a great 
 man. After what has passed this day, you are now one of us 
 by an old strong law and custom. My son, you have now 
 nothing to fear — we are now under the same obligations to 
 •love, support, and defend you that we are to love and to defend 
 one another ; therefore, you are to consider yourself as one of 
 our people." At this time I did not believe this fine speech, 
 especially that of the white blood being washed out of me ; but 
 since that time I have found that there was much sincerity 
 in said speech ; for, from that day, I never knew them to make 
 any distinction between me and themselves in any respect 
 whatever until I left them. If they had plenty of clothing, I 
 had plenty ; if we were scarce, we all shared one fate. 
 
 After this ceremony was over, I was introduced to my new 
 kin, and told that I was to attend a feast that evening, which 
 I did. And as the custom was, they gave me also a bowl and 
 wooden spoon, which I carried with me to the place, where 
 
 j=:\.Afi.v'^»!!j*^.1 
 
m 
 
 [y new 
 j which 
 Ivl and 
 1 where 
 
 
 --J.': 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CA.?rmTt7% 
 
 * # 
 
 187 
 
 there was a number of large brass kettles full of boiled veni- 
 son and green corn ; every one advanced with his bowl and 
 spoon, and had his share given him. After this, one of the 
 chiefs made a short speech, and then we began to eat. 
 
 The name of one of the chiefs in this town was Tecanyate- 
 righto, alias Pluggy, and the other Asallecoa, ahas Mohawk 
 Solomon. As Piuggy and his party were to start the next day 
 to war, to the frontiers of Virginia, the next thilig to be per- 
 formed was the war-dance, and their war-songs. At their war- 
 dance they had both vocal and instrumental music ; they had 
 a short hollow gum, closed at one end, with water in it, and 
 parchment stretched over the open end thereof, which the&beat 
 with one stick, and made a sound nearly like a muffled drum. 
 All those who were going on this expedition collected together 
 and formed. An old Indian then began to sing, and timed the 
 music by beating on this drum, as the ancients formerly timed 
 their music by beating the tabor. On this the warriors began 
 to advance, or move forward in concert, like well-disciplined 
 troops would march to the fife and drum. Each warrior h^ji 
 a tomahawk, spear, or war-mallet in his hand, and they all 
 moved regularly towards the east, or the way they intended to 
 go to war. At length they all stretched their tomahawks 
 towards the Potomac, and giving a hideous shout or yell, they 
 wheeled (^uick about, and danced in the same manner back. 
 The next" was the war-song. In performing this, only one 
 sung at a time, in a moving posture, with a tomahawk in his 
 hand, while all the other warriors were engaged in calling 
 aloud he-uhf he-uh^ which they constantly repeated while the 
 war-song was going on. When the warrior that was singing 
 had ended his song, he struck a war-post with his tomahawk, 
 and with a loud voice told what warlike exploits he had done, 
 and what he now intended to do, which were answered by the 
 other warriors with loud shouts of applause. Some who had 
 not before intended to go to war, at this time, were so animated 
 by this performance, that they took up the tomahawk and sung 
 the war-song, which was answered with shouts of joy, as they 
 were then initiated into the present marching company. The 
 next morning this company all collected at one place, with their 
 heads and faces painted with various colors, and packs upon 
 their backs ; they marched off, all silent, except the command- 
 er, who, in the front, sung the travelling song, which began in 
 this manner : hoo caughtainte heegana. Just as the rear pass- 
 ed the end of the town, they began to fire in their slow man- 
 ner, from the front to the rear, which was accompanied with 
 shouts and yells from all quarters. 
 
 This evening I was invited to another sort of dance, which 
 
 at 
 
 '^S: 
 
■iv»-^ \ fV 
 
 188 ^ 
 
 ';V. 
 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 was a kind of promiscuous dance. The young men stood in 
 one rank, and the young women in another, about one rod apart, 
 facing each other. The one that raised the tune, or started 
 the song, held a small gourd or dry shell of a squash in his 
 hand, which contained beads or small stones, which rattled. 
 When he began to sing, he timed the tune with his rattle ; both 
 men and women danced and sung together, advancing towards 
 each other, stooping until their heads would be touching to- 
 gether, and then ceased from dancing, with loud shouts, and 
 retreated and formed again, and so repeated the same thing 
 over and over, for three or four hours, without intermission. 
 This 'exercise appeared to me at first irrational and insipid ; 
 but I found that in singing their tunes they used yaTieno hoo 
 toa ne, Sec, like our fa sol la, and though they have no such 
 thing as jingling verse, yet they can intermix sentences with 
 their notes, and say what they please to each other, and carry 
 on the tune in concert. I found that this was a kind of wooing 
 or courting dance, and as they advanced stooping with their 
 heads together, they could say what they pleased in each oth- 
 er's ear, without disconcerting their rough music, and the others, 
 or those near, not hear what they said. 
 
 Shortly after this I went out to hunt, in company with Mo- 
 hawk Solomon, some of the Caughnewagas, and a Delaware 
 Indian, that was married to a Caughnewaga squaw. We tra- 
 velled about south from this town, and the first night we killed 
 nothing, but we had with us green corn, which we roasted and 
 ate that night. The next day we encamped about twelve 
 o'clock, and the hunters turned out to hunt, and I went down 
 the run that we encamped on, in company with some squaws 
 and boys, to hunt plums, which we found in great plenty. On 
 my return to camp I observed a large piece of fat meat ; the 
 Delaware Indian, that could talk some English, observed me 
 looking earnestly at this meat, and asked me, what meat you 
 think that is? I said I supposed it was bear meat ; he laugh- 
 ed, and said, ho, all one fool you, beal now elly pool, and point- 
 ing to the other side of the camp, he said, look at that skin, 
 you think that beal skin ? I went and lifted the skin, which 
 appeared like an ox-hide ; he then said, what skin you think 
 that ? I replied, that I thought it was a buffalo hide ; he 
 laughed, and said, you fool again, you know nothing, you think 
 buffalo that colo'f I acknowledged I did not know much about 
 these things, and told him I never saw a buffalo, and that I 
 had not heard what color they were. He replied, by and by 
 you shall see gleat many buffalo; he now go to gleat lick. 
 That skin no buffalo skin, that skin bu^k-elk skin. They went 
 

 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY."* *► 189 
 
 out wiih horses, and brought in the remainder of this buck-elk, 
 which was the fattest creature I ever saw of the tallow kind. 
 
 We remained at this camp about eight or ten days, and kill- 
 ed a number of deer. Though we had neither bread nor salt 
 at this time, yet we had both roast and boiled meat in great 
 plenty, and they were frequently inviting me to eat when I had 
 no appetite. 
 
 We then moved to the buffalo lick, where we killed several 
 buffalo, and in their small brass kettles they made about half a 
 bushel of salt. I suppose this lick was about thirty or forty 
 miles from the aforesaid town, and somewhere between the 
 Muskingum, Ohio, and Sciota. About the lick was clearj 
 open woods, and thin white oak land, and at that time there 
 were large roads leading to the lick, like wagon roads. We 
 moved from this lick about six or seven miles, and encamped 
 on a creek. 
 
 Though the Indians had given me a gun, I had not yet been 
 admitted to go out from the camp to hunt. At this place Mo- 
 hawk Solomon asked me to go out with him to hunt, which I 
 readily agreed to. After some time we came upon some fresh 
 bufialo tracks. I had observed before this that the Indians 
 were upon their guard, and afraid of an enemy ; for, until now, 
 they and the southern nations had been at war. As we were 
 following the buffalo tracks, Solomon seemed to be upon his 
 guard, went very slow, and would freque'ntly stand and listen, 
 and appeared to be in suspense. We came to where the tracks 
 X^ere very plain in the sand, and I said it is surely buffalo 
 tracks ; he said, husk, you knoio nothing, may be buffalo tracks^ 
 may be Catawba. He went very cautious until we four i pome 
 fresh buffalo dung; he then smiled, and said, Catawba tunnot 
 make so. He then stopped, and told me an odd story about 
 the Catawbas. He said that formerly the Catawbas came near 
 one of their hunting camps, and at some distance from the 
 camp lay in ambush ; and in order to decoy them out, sent two 
 or three Catawbas in the night past their camp, with buffalo 
 hoofs fixed on their feet, so as to make artificial tracks. In the 
 morning, those in the camp followed after these tracks, thinking 
 they were buffalo, until they were fired on by the Catawbas, 
 and several of them killed. The others fled, collected a party 
 and pursued the Catawbas ; but they, in their subtilty, brought 
 with them rattlesnake poison, which they had collected from 
 the bladder that lieth at the root of the snake's teeth ; this they 
 had corked up in a short piece of a cane-stalk. They had also 
 brought with them small cane or reed, about the size of u rye- 
 straw, which they made sharp at the end like a pen, and dip- 
 ped them in this poison, and stuck them in the ground among 
 

 190 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 the grass, along their own tracks, in such a position that they 
 might stick into the legs of the pursuers, which answered the 
 design ; and as the Catawbas h||^ runners behind to watch the 
 motion of the pursuers, when they found that a number of them 
 were lame, being artificially snake bit, and that they were all 
 turning back, the Catawbas turned upon the pursuers, and de- 
 feated them, and killed and scalped all those that were lame. 
 When Solomon^had finished this story, and found that I un- 
 n,.^ derstood him, he concluded by saying, you donH kiiom, Catawba 
 velly bad Indian, Catawba all one devil Catawba. 
 
 Some time after this, I was told to take the dogs with me, 
 ^ and go down the creek, perhaps I might kill'a turkey ; it being 
 in the afternoon, I was also told not to go far from the creek, 
 and to come up the creek again to the camp, and to take care 
 not to get lost. When I had gone some distance down the 
 creek, I came upon fresh buffalo tracks, and as I had a number 
 of dogs with me to stop the buflfalo, I concluded I would follow 
 f^ after and kill one ; and as the grass and weeds were rank, I 
 could readily follow the track. A little before sundown I des- 
 pa:ired of coming up with them. I was then thinking how I 
 might get to camp before night. I concluded, as the bufialo had 
 made several turns, if I took the track back to the creek it 
 would be dark before I could get to camp ; therefore I thought 
 I would take a near way through the hills, and strike the creek 
 ^"* a little below the c&mp; but as it was cloudy weather, and I 
 a very young woodsman, I could find neither creek nor camp. 
 1 When night came on I fired my gun several times, and hal- 
 'H looed, but could have no answer. The next morning early, 
 the Indians were out after me, and as I had with me ten or a 
 dozen dogs, and the grass and weeds rank, they could readily 
 '%' ^ follow my track. When they came up with me, they appeared 
 to be in very good humor. I asked Solomon if he thought I 
 was running away ; he said, no, no, you go too much choked. 
 On my return to camp they took my gun from me, and for this 
 rash step I was reduced to a bow and arrows, for near two 
 years.' We were out on this tour for about six weeks. 
 
 This country is generally hilly, though intermixed with 
 considerable quantities of rich upland, and some good bottoms. 
 
 When we returned to the town, Pluggy and his party had 
 arrived, and brought with them a considerable number of scalps 
 and prisoners from the south branch of the Potomac ; they 
 also brought with them an English Bible, which they gave to 
 a Dutch woman who was a prisoner ; but as she could not 
 read English, she made a present of it to me, which was very 
 acceptable. 
 
 I remained in this town until some time in October, when 
 
 'r'jj* 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 191 
 
 d with 
 ottoms. 
 rty had 
 " scalps 
 
 ; they 
 ^ave to 
 
 Id not 
 as very 
 
 , when 
 
 my adopted brother, called Tontileaugo, who had married a 
 "Wyandot squaw, took me with him to lake Erie. We pro- 
 ceeded up the west branch of^Muskingum, and for some dis- 
 tance up the river the land was hilly, but intermixed with larffo 
 bodies of tolerable rich upland, and excellent bottoms. We 
 proceeded on to the head waters of the west branch of Musk- 
 mgum. On the head waters of this branch, and from thence 
 to the waters of Canesadooharie, there is a large body of rich, 
 well lying land ; the timber is ash, walnut, sugar-tree, buckeye, 
 honey'locust, and cherry, intermixed with some oak, hickory, 
 &c. This tour was at the time that the black haws were ripe, 
 and we were seldom out of sight of them ; they were commoiL 
 here both in the bottoms and upland. .vi!S.;T 
 
 On this route we had no horses with us, and when we start- 
 ed from the town all the pack I carried was a pouch containing 
 my books, a little dried venison, and my blanket. I had then 
 no gun, but Tontileaugo, who was a first-rate hunter, carried a 
 rifle gun, and every day killed deer, raccoons, or bears. We 
 left the meat, excepting a little for present u^, and carried the 
 skins with us until we encamped, and then stretched them wim 
 elm bark, in a frame made with poles stuck in the ground, and 
 tied together with lynn or elm bark ; and when the skins were 
 dried by the fire, we packed them up and carried them with ua 
 the next day. ^ 
 
 As Tontileaugo could not speak Englislf, I had to make use 
 of all the Caughnewaga I had learned, even to talk very im- 
 perfectly with him ; but I found I learned to talk Indian faster 
 this way than when I had those with me who could speak 
 English. 
 
 As we proceeded down the Canesadooharie waters, our packs 
 increased by the skins that were daily killed, and became so 
 very heavy that we could not march more than eight or ten 
 miles per day. We came to lake Erie about six miles west of 
 the mouth of Canesadooharie. As the wind was very high 
 the evening we came to the lake, I was surprised to hear the 
 roaring of the water, and see the high waves that dashed against 
 the shore, like the ocean. We encamped on a run near the 
 lake, and as the wind fell that night, the next morning the lake 
 was only in a moderate motion, and we marched on the sand 
 along the side of the water, frequently resting ourselves, as we 
 were heavily laden. I saw on the sand a number of large fish, 
 that had been left in flat or hollow places ; as the wind fell and 
 the waves abated, they were left without water, or only a small 
 quantity; and numbers of bald and grey eagles, &c., were 
 along the shore devouring them. 
 
 Some time in the afternoon we came to a large camp of 
 
 :0 
 
 -.-:'; M 
 
 «'^.l 
 
 1^.- 
 
 ■f* 
 
 S 
 
102 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVirY. 
 
 I f ♦ 
 
 ■«f 
 
 Wyandots, at the mouth of Canesadoohnrie, where Tontileau- 
 go's wife was. Here we were kindly received ; they gave us 
 B kind of rough, brown potatoes, which grew spontaneously, 
 and were culled by the Cfaughnewagas ohnenata. These po- 
 tatoes peeled and dipped in raccoon's fat taste nearly like our 
 sweet potatoes. They also gave* us what they call caneheanta, 
 which is a kind of nomony, made ,of green corn, dried, and 
 beans, mixed togjpther. 
 
 From the head waters of Canesadooharie to this place, the 
 land is generally good ; chiefly first or second rate, and, com- 
 paratively, little or no third rate. The only refuse is some 
 Swamps that appear to be too wet for use, yet I appreh^d that 
 number of them, if drained, would make excellent meadows. 
 The timber is black oak, walnut, hickory, cherry, black ash, 
 white ash, water ash, buckeye, black-locust, honey-locust, 
 •ugar-tree, and elm. There is also some land, though com- 
 paratively but small, where the timber is chiefly white oak, or 
 beech ; this may be called third rate. In the bottoms, and also 
 n^py places in t]^e upland, there is a large quantity of wild 
 ^ple, plum, and red and black haw trees. It appeared to be 
 well watered, and a plenty of meadow ground, intermixed with 
 upland, but no large prairies or glades that I saw or heard of. 
 In this route deer, bear, turkeys, and ratcoons appeared plen- 
 ty, but no buffalo, and very little sign of elks. 
 . We continued oi^ camp at the mouth of Canesadooharie 
 for some time, where we killed some deer, and a great many 
 raccoons ; the raccoons here were remarkably large and fat. 
 At length we all embarked in a large birch bark canoe. This 
 vessel was about four feet wide, and three feet deep, and about 
 five and thirty feet long ; and though it could carry a heavy 
 burden, it was so artfully and curiously constructed, that four 
 men could carry it several miles, or from one landing place to 
 another, or from the waters of the lake to the waters of the 
 Ohio. We proceeded up Canesadooharie a few miles, and 
 went on shore to hunt ; but to my great surprise they carried 
 the vessel we all came in up the bank, and inverted it or turn- 
 ed the bottom up, and converted it to a dwelling-house, and 
 kindled a fire before us to warm ourselves by and cook. With 
 our baggage and ourselves in this house we were very much 
 crowded, yet our little house turned off the rain very well. 
 
 We kept moving and hunting up this river until we came 
 to the falls ; here we remained some weeks, and killed a num- 
 ber of deer, several bears, and a great many raccoons. From 
 the mouth of this river to the falls is about five and twenty 
 miles. On our passage up I was not much out from the river, 
 but what I saw was good land, and not hilly. 
 
 / 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 193 
 
 leau- 
 ve us 
 )usly, 
 le po- 
 :e our 
 iunta, 
 i, and 
 
 le, the 
 , corn- 
 some 
 id that 
 idows. 
 k ash, 
 locust, 
 h com- 
 oak, or 
 nd also 
 af wild 
 id to be 
 ed with 
 eard of. 
 id plen- 
 
 looharie 
 many 
 ind fat. 
 This 
 about 
 heavy 
 lat four 
 ^lace to 
 of the 
 les, and 
 Icarried 
 Ir turn- 
 36, and 
 With 
 much 
 
 2ll. 
 
 came 
 
 num- 
 
 From 
 
 Itwenty 
 
 river, 
 
 About the falls is thin chesnut land, which is almost the 
 only chesnut timber I ever saw in this country. 
 
 While wc remained here I left my pouch with my books in 
 camp, wrapt up in my blanket, and went out to hunt chcsnuts. 
 On my return to camp my books were missing. I inquired 
 after them, and asked the Indians if they knew where they 
 were ; they told me that they supposed the puppies had carried 
 them off. I did not believe them, but thoughft they were dis- 
 pleased at my poring over my books, and concluded that they 
 had destroyed them, or put them out of my way. 
 
 After^this I was again out after nuts, and on my return 
 beheld a new erection, composed of two white oak saplings,' 
 that were forked about twelve feet high, a»>d stood about fif- 
 teen feet apart. They had cut these sapling.' at the forks, and 
 laid a strong pole across, which appeared in t \e form of a gal- 
 lows, and the poles they had shaved very smo >th, and painted 
 in places with vermillion. I could not conoive the use of 
 this piece of work, and at length concluded it was a gallows. 
 I thought that I had displeased them by readfeg my books, aiiA 
 that they were about putting me to death. The next morning 
 I observed them bringing their skins all to this place, and 
 hanging them over thi^ pole, so as to preserve them from being 
 injured by the weather. This removed my fears. They also 
 buried their large canoe in the ground, wh^^h is the way they 
 took to preserve this sort of a canoe in the winter season. 
 
 As we had at this time no horse, every one got a pack on his 
 back, and we steered arv east course about twelve miles and 
 encamped. The next morning we proceeded on the same 
 course about ten miles to a large creek that empties into lake 
 Erie, betwixt Canesadooharie and Cayahnga. Here they made 
 their winter cabin in the following form : they cut logs about 
 fifteen feet long, and laid these logs upon each other, and drove 
 posts in the ground at each end to keep them together ; the 
 posts they tied together at the top with bark, and by this means 
 raised a wall fifteen feet long, and about four feet high, and m 
 the same manner they raised another wall opposite to this, at 
 about twelve feet distance ; then they drove forks in the ground 
 in the centre of each end, and laid a strong pole from end to 
 end on these forks ; and from these walls to the poles, they 
 set up poles instead of rafters, and on these they tied small 
 poles in place of laths ; and a cover was made of lynn bark»V 
 which will run even in the winter season. , \: 
 
 As every tree will not run, they examine the tree first, by '^ 
 trying it near the ground, and when they find it will do they 
 fell the tree, and raise the bark with the tomahawk, near the 
 top of the tree, about five or six inches broad, then put the- 
 
 17 
 
 %■' 
 
 4 
 
 ^ 
 
 / 
 
:**'- 
 "•*-< 
 
 w 
 
 194 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 #># 
 
 
 tomahawk handle under this bark, and pull it along down to 
 the butt of the tree ; ao that sometimes one piece of bark will 
 be thirty feet long. This*bark they cut at suitable lengths in 
 order to cover the hut. 
 
 At the end of these wall* they set up split timber, so that 
 they had timber all round, excepting a door at each end. At 
 the top, in place of a chimney, they left an open place, and for 
 bedding they laid down the aforesaid kind of bark, on which 
 they spread bear-skins. From end to end of this hut along 
 the middle there were fires, which the squaws made of dry 
 split wood, and the holes or open places that appeared the 
 squaws stonped with moss, which they collected from old logs; 
 and at the door they hung a bear-skin ; and notwithstanding 
 the winters are hard here, our lodging was much better than 
 what I expected. 
 
 It was some time in December when we finished this win- 
 ter cabin ; but when we had got into this comparatively fine 
 lodging, another difificulty arose, we had nothing to eat. While 
 ^yas travelling jKth Tontileaugo, as was before mentioned, 
 and had plenty of fat venison, bear's meat and raccoons, I then 
 thought it was hard living without bread or salt ; but now I 
 began to conclude, that if I had any thing that would banish 
 pinching hunger, and keep soul and body together, I would be 
 content. ^ 
 
 While the hunters were all out, exerting themselves to the 
 utmost of their ability, the squaws and boys (in which class I 
 was) were scattered out in the bottoms, hunting red haws, 
 black haws and hickory nuts. As it was too late, in the year, 
 we did not succeed in gathering haws ; but we had tolerable 
 success in scratching up hickory nuts from under a light snow, 
 which we carried with us lest the hunters should not succeed. 
 After our return the hunters came in, who had killed only two 
 small turkeys, which were but little among eight hunters and 
 thirteen squaws, boys, and children ; but they were divided 
 with the greatest equity and justice — every one got their equal 
 share. 
 
 The next day the hunters turned ou*. again, and killed one 
 deer and three bears. 
 
 One of the bears was very large and remarkably fat. The 
 hunters carried in meat sufficient to give us all a hearty sup- 
 per and breakfast. 
 
 The squaws and all that could carry turned out to bring in 
 
 meat,^-every one had their share assigned them, and my load 
 
 was among the least ; yet, not being accustomed to carrying 
 
 n this way, I got exceeding weary, and told them my load 
 
 was too heavy, I must leave part of it and come for it again. 
 
C50LONEL SMITH'S CAPTlVlfy. ** 
 
 105 
 
 wn to 
 i will 
 ths in 
 
 that 
 I. At 
 nd for 
 which 
 
 along 
 of dry 
 ed the 
 i logs; 
 ;anding 
 jr than 
 
 lis win- 
 jly fine 
 While 
 ntioned, 
 g, I then 
 It now I 
 
 1 banish 
 vould be 
 
 to the 
 |h class I 
 id haws, 
 ihe year, 
 tolerable 
 ]ht snow, 
 succeed, 
 lonly two 
 Iters and 
 divided 
 lir equal 
 
 lilled one 
 
 It. The 
 irty sup- 
 bring in 
 my load 
 carrying 
 my load 
 lit again. 
 
 They made a halt and only laughed at ihe, and took part of 
 Iny load and added it to a young sqtiatr'is, who had as much 
 before as I carried. * ' 
 
 This kind of reproof had a greater tendency to excite me t6 
 exert myself in carrying without complaining than if they had 
 whipped me for laziness. After this the hunters held a coun- 
 cil, and concluded that they must have horses to carry their 
 loads ; and that they would go to war even in this inclement 
 season, in order to bring in horses. 
 
 Tontileaugo wished to be one of those who should go to war ; 
 but the votes went against him, as he was one of our best hun- 
 ters ; it was thought necessaiy to leave him at this winter 
 camp to provide for the squaws and children. It was agreed 
 upon that Tontileaugo and three others should stay and hunt, 
 and the other four go to war. 
 
 They then began to go through their common ceremony. 
 They sung their war-songs, danced their war-dances, &c. 
 And when they were equipped they went off singing their 
 marching song, and firing their guns. OuiM^amp appeared^ 
 be rejoicing ; but I was grieved to think that some innocent 
 persons would he murdered, not thinking of danger. 
 
 After the departure of these warriors we had hard times ; 
 and though we were not altogether out of provisions, we were 
 brought to short allowance. At length Tontileaugo had con- 
 siderable success, and we had meat brought into camp suffi- 
 cient to last ten days. Tontileaugo then took me with him in 
 order to encamp some distance from this wintev cabin, to try 
 his luck there. We cairied no provisions with us ; he said he 
 would leave what was there for the squaws and children, and 
 that we could shift for ourselves. We steered about a south 
 course up the waters of this creek, and encamped about ten or 
 twelve miles from the winter cabin. As it was still cold 
 weather and a crust upon the snow, which made a noise as 
 we walked, and alarmed the deer, we could kill nothing, and 
 consequently went to sleep with.' it supper. The only chance 
 we had under these circumstances was to hunt bear holes ; as 
 the bears about Christmas search out a winter lodging place, 
 where they lie about three or four months without eating or 
 drinking. This may appear to some incredible ; but it is well 
 known to be the case by those who live in the remote west- 
 ern parts of North America. 
 
 The next morning early we proceeded on, and when we 
 found a tree scratched by the bears climbing up, and the hole 
 in the tree sufficiently large for the reception of the bear, we 
 then felled a sapling or small tree against or near the hole ; 
 tnd it was my business to climb up and drive out the bciEtr, 
 
 4. 
 
■*•< 
 
 '»!■:. 
 
 -JOrz:^ 
 
 
 196 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 while Tontileaugo stood ready with his gun and bow. We 
 went on in this manner until evening, without success. At 
 length we found a large elm scratched, and a hole in it about 
 forty feet up ; but no tree nigh, suitable to lodge against the 
 hole. Tontileaugo got a long pole and some dry rotten wood, 
 which he tied in bunches, with bark ; and as there was a tree 
 that grew near the elm, and extended up near the hole, but 
 leaned the wrong way, so that we coulfJ not lodge it to advan- 
 tage, to remedy this inconvenience, he climbed up this tree and 
 carried with him his rotten wood, fire and pole. The rotten 
 wood he tied to his belt, and to one end of the pole he tied a 
 hook and a piece of rotten wood, which he set fire to, as it 
 would retain fire almost like spunk, and reached this hook 
 from limb to limb as he went up. When he got up with his 
 pole he put dry wood on fire into the hole ; after he put in 
 the fire he heard the bear snuflf, and he c^me speedily down, 
 took his gun in his hand, and waited until the bear would 
 come out; but it was some time before it appeared, and when 
 it did appear he attempted taking sight with his rifie ; but it 
 being then too dark to see the sights, he set it down by a tree, 
 and instantly bent his bow, took hold of an arrow, and shot 
 the bear a little behind the shoulder. I was preparing also to 
 shoot an arrow, but he called to me to stop, there was no 
 occasion ; and with that the bear fell to the ground. 
 
 Being very hungry, we kindled a fire, opened the bear, took 
 out the liver, and wrapped some of the caul fat round, and put 
 it on a wooden spit, which we stuck in the ground by the fire 
 to roast ; then we skinned the bear, got on our kettle, and had 
 both roast and boiled, and 'also sauce to our meat, which 
 appeared to me to be delicate fare. After I was fully satisfied 
 I went to sleep ; Tontileaugo awoke me, saying, come, eat 
 h.^arty, we have got meat plenty now. 
 
 The next morning we cut down a lynn tree, peeled bark and 
 made a snug little shelter, facing the south-east, with a large 
 log betw ixt us and the north-west ; we made a good fire before 
 us, and scaffolded up our meat at one side. When we had fin- 
 ished our camp we went out to hunt, searched two trees for 
 bears, but to no purpose. As the snow thawed a little in ihe 
 afternoon, Tontileaugo killed a deer, which we carried with us 
 to camp. 
 
 The next day we turned out to hunt, and near the camp we 
 found a tree well scratched ; but the hole was above forty feet 
 high, and no tree that we could lodge against the hole ; but 
 finding that it was very hollow, we concluded that we could 
 cut down the tree with our tomahawks, which kept us work- 
 ing a considerable part of the day. When the tree fell we 
 
\ 
 
 
 \ 
 
 CO NEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 l§t 
 
 We 
 At 
 
 bout 
 L the 
 ood, 
 tree 
 , but 
 Ivan- 
 i and 
 :olten 
 Lied a 
 as it 
 hook 
 th his 
 )Ut in 
 down, 
 would 
 L when 
 but it 
 a tree, 
 ad shot 
 also to 
 was no 
 
 ar 
 
 ,took 
 aind put 
 the fire 
 md had 
 
 which 
 atisfied 
 ime, eat 
 
 ark and 
 
 a large 
 
 e before 
 
 had fin- 
 
 Lrees for 
 
 in ihe 
 
 with us 
 
 Jamp we 
 arty feet 
 ole; but 
 e could 
 Ls work- 
 fell we 
 
 ran up, Tontileaugo with his gun and bow, and I with my bow 
 ready bent. Tontileaugo shot the bear thrdugh with his rifle, 
 a little behind the shoulders ; I also shot, but too far back ; and 
 not being then much accustomed to the business, ihy arrow 
 penetrated only a few inches through the skin. Having killed 
 an old she bear and three cubs, we hauled her on the snow to 
 the camp, and only had time afterwards to ge* wood, make a 
 fire, cook, &c., before dark. 
 
 Early the next morning we went to business, searched seve- 
 ral trees, but found no bears. On our way home* we took 
 three raccoons out of a hollow elm, not far from the ground. 
 
 We remained here about two weeks, and in this time killed 
 four bears, three deer, several turkeys and a number of rac- 
 coons. We packed up as much meat as we could carry, and 
 returned to our winter cabin. On our arrival there was great 
 joy, as they were all in a starving condition, the three hunt- 
 ers that we had left having killed b«ft very little. All that 
 could carry a pack, repaired to our camp to bring in meat. 
 
 Some time in February the four warriors^^eturned, who had 
 taken two scalps and six horses from the frontiers of Pennsyl- 
 vania. The hunters could then scatter out a considerable dis- 
 tance from the winter cabin and encamp, kill meat, and bring 
 it in upon horses ; so that we commonly after this had plenty 
 of provision. 
 
 in this month we began to make sugar. As some of the 
 elm bark will strip at this season, the squaws, after finding il 
 tree that would do, cut it down, and with a crooked stick, bioad 
 and sharp at the end, took the bark off the tree, and of this 
 bark made vessels in a curious manner, that would hold about 
 two gallons each : they made above one hundred of these kind 
 of vessels. In the sugar tree they cut a notch, sloping down, 
 and at the end of the notch stuck in a tomahawk ; in the place 
 where they stuck the tomahawk they drove a long chip, in 
 order to carry the water out from the tree, and under this they 
 set their vessel to receive it. As sugar trees were plenty ar.d 
 large here, they seldom or never notched a tree that was not 
 two or three feet over. They also made bark vessels for car- 
 rying the water, that would hold about four gallons each. 
 They had two brass kettles, that held about fifteen gallons 
 each, and other smaller kettles in which they boiled the water. 
 But as they could not at times boil away the water as fast as 
 it was collected, they made vessels of bark, that would hold 
 about one hundred gallons each, for retaining the water ; and 
 though the sugar trees did not run every day, they had alwayrf 
 a sufficient quantity of water to keep them boiling during thi^ 
 whole sugar season. - y '^>- 
 
 17* 
 
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 "#'■ 
 
 •# 
 
 
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 <■!';■'■- 
 
 198 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 »*■ 
 
 
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 T.^ 
 
 ^^m 
 
 % 
 
 The way we commonly used our sugar while encamped was 
 by putting it in Ifeafs fat until the fat was almost as sweet at 
 the sugar itself, and in this we dipped our roasted venison. 
 About tlffi time some of the Indian lads and myself were em- 
 ployed in making and attending traps for catching raccoons, 
 foxes, \vildcats, &c. 
 
 As the raccoon is a kind of water animal, that frequents the 
 runs, or small water courses, almost the whole night, we made 
 our traps on the runs, by laying one small sapling on another, 
 and driving in posts to keep them from rolling. The under 
 sapling we raised about eighteen inches, and set so that on 
 the raccoon's touching a string, or a small piece of bark, the 
 sapling would fall and kill it ; and lest the raccoon should pass 
 by, we laid brush on both sides of the run, only leaving the 
 channel open. * i 
 
 The fox traps we made nearly in the same manner, at the 
 end of a hollow log, or opposite to a hole at the root of a hol- 
 low tree, and put venison on a stick for bait ; we had it so set 
 that when the fox, took hold of the meat the trap fell. While 
 the squaws were employed in making sugar, the boys and men 
 were engaged in hunting and trapping. 
 
 About the latter end of March, we began to prepare for 
 moving into town, in order to plant corn. The squaws were 
 then frying the last of their bear's fat, and making vessels to 
 hold it : the vessels were made of deer-skins, which were 
 skinned by pulling the skin off the neck, without ripping. 
 After they had taken off the hair, they gathered it in small 
 plaits round the neck and with a string drew it together like a 
 purse ; in the centre a pin was put, below which they tied a 
 string, and while it was wet they blew it up like a bladder, 
 and let it remain in this manner until it was dry, when it ap- 
 T)eared nearly in the shape of a sugar loaf, but more rounding 
 at the lower end. One of these vessels would hold about four 
 or five gallons. In these vessels it was they carried their bear's 
 oil. 
 
 When all things were ready, we moved back to the falls of 
 Canesadooharie. In this route the land is chiefly first and 
 second rate ; but too much meadow ground, in proportion to 
 the upland. The timber is white ash, elm, black oak, cherry, 
 buckeye, sugar tree, lynn, mulberry, beech, white oak, hick- 
 ory, wild apple tree, red haw, black haw, and spicewood bushes. 
 There is in some places spots of beech timber, which spots 
 may be called third rate land. Buckeye, sugar tree and spice- 
 wood are common in the woods here. There is in some 
 places large swamps too wet for any use. 
 
 On our arrival at the falls, (as we had brought with us on 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 1^9 
 
 was 
 et a# 
 lison. 
 3 em- 
 ;oons, 
 
 ts the 
 made 
 lother, 
 under 
 lat on 
 fk, the 
 Id pass 
 ng the 
 
 at the 
 
 I a hol- 
 
 so set 
 
 While 
 
 nd men 
 
 are 
 
 for 
 rs were 
 issels to 
 h were 
 ripping, 
 small 
 like a 
 tied a 
 bladder, 
 n it ap- 
 aunding 
 out four 
 ir bear's 
 
 falls of 
 irst and 
 »rtion to 
 cherry, 
 k, hick- 
 bushes. 
 :h spots 
 d spice- 
 in some 
 
 th us on 
 
 horseback about two hundred weight of sugar, a large quan- 
 ^ty of bear's oil, skins, &;c.,) the canoe we ^had buried was 
 not sufficient to carry all ; therefore we were obliged to make 
 another one of elm bark. While we lay here, a yoipbg Wy- 
 andot found my books. On this they collected together ; I was 
 a little way from the camp, and saw the collection, but did not 
 know what it meant. They called me by my Indian name, 
 which was Scoouwa, repeatedly. I ran to see what was the 
 matter ; they showed me my books, and said they were glad 
 they had been found, for they knew I was grieved at the loss 
 of them, and that they now rejoiced with me because they 
 were found. As I could then speak some Indian, especially 
 Caughnewaga, (for both that and the Wyandot tongue were 
 spoken in this camp,) I told them that I thanked them for the 
 kindness they had always shown to me, and* also for finding 
 my books. They asked if the books were damaged. I tola 
 them not much. They then showed how they lay, which was 
 in the best manner to turn off the water. ' In a deer-skin pouch 
 they lay all winter. The print was not much injured, though 
 the binding was. This was the first time tirat I felt my heart 
 warm towards the Indians. Though they had been exceed- 
 ingly kind to me, I still before detested them, on account of 
 the barbarity I beheld after Braddock's defeat. Neither had I 
 ever before pretended kindness, or expressed myself in a 
 friendly manner ; but I began now to excuse the Indians on 
 account of their want of information. 
 
 When we were ready to embark, Tontileaugo would not go 
 to town, but go up the river, and take a hunt. He asked me 
 if I choosed to go with him. I told him I did. We then got 
 some sugar, bear's oil bottled up in a bear's gut, and some dry 
 venison, Avhich we packed up, and went up Canesadooharie, 
 about thirty miles, and encamped. At this time I did not 
 know either the day of the week or the month ; but I sup- 
 posed it to be about the first of April. We had considerable 
 success in our business. We also found some stray horses, or 
 a horse, mare, and a young colt ; and though they had run in 
 the woods all winter, they were in exceeding good order. 
 There is plenty of grass here all winter, under the snow, and 
 horses accustomed to the woods can work it out. These horses 
 had run in the woods until they were very wild. 
 
 Tontileaugo one night concluded that we must run them 
 down. I told him I thought we could not accomplish it. He 
 said he had run down bears, buffaloes, and elks ; and in the 
 great plains, with only a small snow on the ground, he had run 
 down a deer ; and he thought that in one whole day he could 
 tire or mn down any four-footed animal except a wolf. I told 
 
 
800 
 
 COLOI^L SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ^. 
 
 ■■t" 
 
 him that though a deer was the swiftest animal to run a short 
 distance, yet it WOttld tire sooner than a horse. He said he 
 would ^jA\ events try the ^periment. He had heard the 
 "WyanOTB say that I could run well, and now he would see 
 whether I could or not. I told him that I never had run all 
 day, and of course was not accustomed to that way of running. 
 I never had run with the Wyandots more than seven or eight 
 miles at one time. He said that was nothing, we must either 
 catch these horses or run all day. 
 
 In the morning early we left camp, and about sunrise we 
 started after them, stripped naked excepting breech-clouts and 
 moccasins. About ten o'clock I lost sight of both ^ontileaugo 
 and the horses, and did not see them again until about three 
 o'clock in the afternoon. As the horses run all day in about 
 three^ribur miles square, at length they passed where I was, 
 andllf^l in close after them. As I then had a long rest, I 
 endeavored to keep ahead of Tontileaugo, and after some time 
 I could hnar him after me calling chdkoh, chakoanaugh, which 
 signifies, pull away or do your best. We pursued on, and after 
 some time Tontileaugo passed me, and about an hour before 
 sundown we despaired of catching these horses, and returned 
 to camp, where we had left our clothes. 
 
 I reminded Tontileaugo of what I had told him ; he replied 
 he did not know what horses could do. They are wonderful 
 strong to run ; but withal we made them very tired. Tonti- 
 leaugo then concluded he would do as the Indians did with 
 wild horses when out at war : which is to shoot thein through 
 the neck under the mane, and above the bone, which will 
 cause them to fall and lie until they can halter them, and then 
 they recover again. This he attempted to do; but as the 
 mar^ was very wild, he could not get sufficiently nigh to shoot 
 her in the proper place ; however, he shot, the ball passed too 
 low, and killed her. As the horse and colt stayed at this 
 place, we caught the horse, and took him and the colt with us 
 ^camp. 
 
 We stayed at this camp about two weeks, and killed a num- 
 her-rof bears, raccoons, and some beavers. We made a canoe 
 of elm bark, and Tontileaugo embarked in it. He arrived at 
 the falls that night ; whilst I, mounted on horseback, with a 
 bear-akin saddle and bark stirrups, proceeded by land to the 
 falls. I came there the next morning, and we carried our 
 canoe and loading past the falls. 
 
 The river is very rapid for some distance above the falls, 
 which are about twelve or fifteen feet, nearly perpendicular. 
 This river, called Canesadooharie, interlocks with the West 
 Branch of Muskingum, runs nearly a north course, and emp!- 
 
 :.'•* 
 
'l^r. 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 201 
 
 dhe 
 I the 
 I see 
 in all 
 ning. 
 eignt 
 sither 
 
 se ■we 
 ts and 
 eaugo 
 ; three 
 
 about 
 I was, 
 
 rest, I 
 ke time 
 
 which 
 id after 
 r before 
 eturned 
 
 replied 
 mderful 
 Tonti- 
 id with 
 through 
 ich will 
 [nd then 
 as the 
 ;o shoot 
 !sed too 
 at this 
 with us 
 
 a niim- 
 
 I a canoe 
 
 trived at 
 
 J, with a 
 
 to the 
 
 tied our 
 
 le falls, 
 tdicular. 
 ^e West 
 
 idemp!- 
 
 ties into the south side of lake Erie, about eight miles east 
 from Sandusky, or betwixt Sandusky and Cayahaga. 
 
 On this last route the land is nearly the same ajyhat last 
 described, only there is not so much swampy or wet^ound. 
 
 We again proceeded towards the lake, I on horseback, and 
 Tontileaugo by water. Here the land is generally good, but 
 I found some difficulty in getting round swamps and ponds. 
 When we came to the lake, I proceeded along the strand, and 
 Tontileaugo near the shore, sometimes paddling, and some- 
 times poleing his canoe along. 
 
 After some time the wind arose, and he went into the mouth 
 of a small t;reek and encamped. Haiie we staid several days 
 on account of high wind, which raise^ the lak6 i|^ jgt^i^^- 
 lows. While we were here, Tontileaugo went oiit t6 Hunt, 
 and when he was gone a Wyandot came to our camp ; I gavie 
 him a shoulder of venison which I had by the fire well foasted, 
 and he received it gladly, told me he was hungry, and thanked 
 me for my kindness. When Tontileaugo came hornet I told 
 him that a Wyandot had been at camp, and that I gave him a 
 shoulder of roasted venison ; he said that was very well, and 
 I suppose you gave him also sugar and bear's oil to eat with 
 his venison. I told him I did not ; as the sugar and bear's oil 
 was down in the canoe I did not go for it. He replied, you 
 have behaved just like a Dutchman.*' Do you not know that 
 when strangers come to our camp we ought always to give 
 them the best that we have ? I acknowledged that I was wrong. 
 He said that ho could excuse this, as I was but young ; but I 
 must learn to behave like a warrior, and do great things, and 
 never be found in any such little actions. 
 
 The lake being again calm,t we proceeded, and arrived safe 
 at Sunyendeand, which was a Wyandot town that lay upon a 
 small creek which empties into the little lake below the mouth 
 of Sandusky. 
 
 The town was about eighty rood above the mouth of the 
 creek, on the south side of a large plain, on which tlmbef 
 grew, and nothing more but grass or nettles. In some places 
 there were large flats where nothing but grass grew, alKbut 
 three feet high when grown, and in other place? nothing but 
 nettles, very rank, where the soil is extremely rich and loose ; 
 here they planted corn. In this town there were also Fifench 
 traders, who purchased our skins and fur, and we all got new 
 clothes, paint, tobacco, &c. . ;^' . 
 
 * The Dutch he called Skoharehaugo, which look its derivation from a 
 Dutch settlement called Skoharey. 
 
 t The lake, when calm, appears to be of a sky-blue color ; though when 
 lifted in a vessel it is like other clear water. 
 
 *<*'«i.. 
 
 
X 
 
 T-T-^ 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 A,;1A 
 
 ' After I had got my new clothes, and my head done off like 
 a red-headed woodifecker, I, in company with a number of 
 young iMiiani^ went down to the corn-field to see the squaws 
 at wor^^ When we came there they asked me to take a hoe, 
 which I did, and hoed for some time. The squaws applauded 
 me as a good hand at the business ; but when I returned to 
 the town the old men, hearing of what I had done, chid me, and 
 said that I was adopted in the place of a great man, and must 
 not hoe corn like a squaw. They never had occasion to 
 reprove me for any thing like this again ; as I never was 
 extremely fond of work, I readily complied with their orders. 
 
 As the Indians on tlpir return from their winter hunt bring 
 in with them large quantities of bear's oil, sugar, dried veni- 
 son, &OM.at this time they have plenty, and do not spare eating 
 or giving; thus they make way with their provision as quick 
 as possible. They have no such thing as regular meals, 
 breakfast, dinner, or supper ; but if any one, even the town 
 folks, would go to the same house several times in one day, 
 he would be invited to eat of the best ; and with them it is bad 
 manners to refuse to eat when it is offered. If they will not 
 eat it is interpreted as a symptom of displeasure, or that the 
 persons refusmg to eat were angry with those who invited 
 them. 
 
 At this time homony, plentifully mixed with bear's oil and 
 sugar, or dried venison, bear's oil, and sugar, is what they offer 
 to every one who cornes in any time of the day ; and so they 
 go on until their sugar, bear's oil, and venison are all gone, 
 and then they have to eat homony by itself, without bread, 
 salt, or any thing else j yet still they invite every one that 
 c(M|'6s in to eat whilst they have any thing to give. L is 
 thought a shame not to invite people to eat while they have 
 any thing; but if they can in truth only say we have got 
 not^bJog to eat, this is accepted as an honorable apology. All 
 thl^ hunters and warriors continued in town about six weeks 
 aftei we came in ; they spent this time in painting, going from 
 Imusis to house, eating, smoking, and playing at a game resem- 
 bllH^ dice, or hustle-cap. They put a number of plum-stones 
 in V small bowl ; one side of each stone is black, and the other 
 white; they then shake or hustle the bowl, calling, hits, hits, 
 hits,^onesey, honesey, rago,rago; which signifies calling for 
 white or black, or what they wish to turn up; they then turn 
 the bowl, and count the whites and blacks. Some were beat- 
 ing their kind of drum and singing ; others were employed in 
 playing on a sort of flute made of hollow cane ; and others 
 playing on the jew's-harp. Some part of this time was also 
 aken up in attending the council house, where the chiefs, and 
 
 %iSi.-iB.*t:'.. 
 
)^' 
 
 riike 
 ler of 
 j[ua\vs 
 a hoe, 
 auded 
 ned to 
 le, and 
 i must 
 lion to 
 iT was 
 rders. 
 t bring 
 d veni- 
 
 eating 
 s quick 
 
 meals, 
 le town 
 me day, 
 it is bad 
 will not 
 that the 
 
 invited 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTmXY. 
 
 soa 
 
 aa many others as chose, attended ; and at night they were 
 frequendy employed in singing and dancing. Towards the 
 last of this time, which was in June, 170B, they were all en- / 1 
 gaged in preparing to go to war against the frontieril.of Vir-^ 
 ginia. When they were equipped, they went through their 
 ceremonies, sung their war-songs, &c. They all marched off, 
 from fifteen to sixty years of age ; and some boys, only twelve 
 years old, were equipped with their bows and arrows, and 
 went to war; so that none were left in town but squaws and 'i^f 
 children, except myself, one very old man, and another, about 
 fifty years of age, who was lame. 
 
 The Indians were then in great hoj^s that they would drive 
 all the Virginians over the lake, whicn is all the name they 
 
 know for the sea. They had some ^ause for this hope, be- 
 cause, at this time, the Americans were altogether ui2ac« 
 quainted with war of any kind, and consequently very unfit to 
 stand their hand with such subtle enemies as the Indians were. 
 The two old Indians asked me if I did not think that the 
 Indians and French would subdue all America, except New. 
 England, which they said they had tried in old times. I told 
 them I thought not. They said they had already drove them 
 all out of the mountains, and had chiefly laid waste the great 
 valley betwixt the North and South mountain, from Potomac 
 to James river, which is a considerable part of the best land 
 in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, and that the white ' 
 people appeared to them like fools ; they could neither guard 
 against surprise, run, nor fight. These, they said, were their 
 reasons for saying that they would subdue the whites. Theyr 
 asked me to offer my reasons for my opinion, and told me tOr' 
 speak my mind freely. I told them that the white peoplA.«to, 
 the east were very numerous, like the trees, and though they 
 appeared to them to be fools, as they were not acquainted wim 
 their way of war, yet they were not fools ; therefore, after-fiiome ' 
 time, they will learn your mode of war, and turn upon yeif, or 
 at least defend themselves. I found that the old men them^-;-. 
 selves did not believe they could conquer America, yet tibua^ 
 were willing to propagate the idea in order to encourag^jj^e 
 young men to go to war. • 
 
 When the warriors left this town, we had neither meat, 
 sugar, or bear's oil left. All that we had then to live on was 
 corn pounded into coarse meal or small homony ; this they 
 boiled in water, which appeared like well thickened soup, 
 without salt or any thing else. For some time we had plenty 
 of this kind of homony ; at length we were brought to very 
 short allowance, and as the warriors did not return as soon as 
 they expected, we were in a starving condition, and but one 
 
 ii 
 1 
 
 V^ i 
 
 A 
 
 tf 
 
 M 
 
204 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 m 
 
 #* 
 
 ii 
 
 ffun in the town, and very little ammunition. The old lamn 
 Wyandot concluded J^at he would go a hunting in a canoe, 
 and take me with him, and try to kill deer in the water, as it 
 was theif watering time. We went up Sandusky a few miles, 
 then turned up a creek and encamped. We had lights pre- 
 pared, as we were to hunt in the night, and also a piece of 
 bark and some bushes set up in the canoe, in order to conceal 
 ourselves from the deer. A little boy that was with us held 
 the light ; I worked the canoe, and the old man, who had his 
 gun loaded with large shot, when we came near the deer, fired, 
 and in this manner killed three deer in part of one night. We 
 went to our fire, ate heartily, and in the morning returned to 
 town in order to relieve the hungry and distressed. 
 
 When we came to town the children were crying bitterly on 
 account of pinching hunger. We delivered what we had taken, 
 and though it was but little among so many, it was divided 
 according to the strictest rules of justice. We immediately set 
 out for another hunt, but before we returned a part of the war- 
 riors had come in, and brought with them on horseback a 
 quantity of meat. These warriors had divided into different 
 
 Parties, and all struck. at different places in Augusta county, 
 'hey orought in with them a considerable number of scalps, 
 prisoners, horses, anJ other plunder. One of the parties 
 Drought in with them one Arthur Campbell, that is now Colo- 
 nel Campbell, who lives on Holston river, near the Royal 
 Oak. As the Wyandots at Sunyendeand and those at De- 
 troit were connected, Mr. Campbell was taken to Detroit; 
 but he remained some time with me in this town. His com- 
 p«iny was very agreeable, and I was sorry when he left me. 
 During his stay at Sunyendeand he borrowed my Bible, and 
 made some pertinent remarks on what he had read. One 
 
 gassage was where it is said, " It is good for man that he 
 ear the yoke in his youth." He said we ought to be re- 
 •^ signed to the will of Providence, as we were now beayng 
 the yoke in our youth. Mr. Campbell appeared to be then 
 alteut sixteen or seventeen, years of age. 
 
 jtt^ere was a number of prisoners brought in by these 
 
 , parties, and when they were to run the gauntlet I went and 
 
 told them how they were to act. One John Savage was 
 
 ' brought in, a middle-aged man, or about forty years old. He 
 
 ♦ was t6 run the gauntlet. I told him what he had to do ; and 
 
 after this J fell into one of the ranks with the Indians, shouting 
 
 \ and yelling like them ; and as they were not very severe on 
 
 { "him, as he passed me, I hit him with a piece of pumpkin, 
 
 which pleased the Indians much, but hurt my feelings. 
 
 About the time that these warriors came m, the green com 
 
 in 
 
 ii^;. 1-. 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 206 
 
 1^ !;' 
 
 was beginning to be of use, so that we had either green corn 
 or venison, and sometimes both, which #iras, comparatively, 
 high living. When we could have plenty of greenhorn, or 
 roasting ears, the hunters became lazy* and spent th^ir time, 
 as already mentioned, in singing and dancing, &c. They ap- 
 peared to be fulfilling the scriptures beyond those who profess 
 to believe them, in that of taking no thought of to-morrow ; 
 and also in living in love, peace, and friendship together, 
 without disputes. In this respect they shame those who pro- 
 fess Christianity. 
 
 In this manner we lived until October; then the geese, 
 swans, ducks, cranes, &c., came from ^e north, and alighted 
 on this little lake, without number, or innumerable. Sunyen- 
 deand is a remarkable place for fish in the spring, and fowl 
 both in the fall and spring. 
 
 As our hunters were now tired with indolence, and fond of 
 their own kind of exercise, they all turned out to fowling, and 
 in this could scarce miss of success ; so that we had now 
 plenty of homony and the best of fowls ; and sometimes, as a 
 rarity, we had a little bread, which was made of Indian corn 
 meal, pounded in a homony block, mixed with boiled beans, 
 and baked in cakes under the ashes. 
 
 This with us was called good living, though not equal to our 
 fat, roasted, and boiled venison, when we went to the woods 
 in the fall ; or bear's meat and beaver in the winter ; or sugar, 
 bear's oil, and dry venison in the spring. 
 
 Some time in October, another adopted brother, older than 
 Tontileaugo, came to pay us a visit at Sunyendeand, and he 
 asked me to take a hunt with him on Cayahaga. As they 
 always used me as a free man, and gave me the liberty of 
 choosing, I told him that I was attached to Tontileaugo, had 
 never seen him before, and therefore asked some time to con- 
 sider of this. He told me that the party he was going with 
 would not be along, or at the mouth of this little lake, in less 
 than six days, and I could in this time be acquainted with 
 him, and judge for myself. I consulted with Tontileaugo ot 
 this occasion, and he told me that our old brother Tecail|b- 
 retanego (which was his name) was a chief, and a better man 
 than he was, and if I went with him I might expect to be 
 well used ; but he said I might do as I pleased, and if I^staid 
 he would use me as he had done. I told him that he had ^ 
 acted in every respect as a brother to me ; yet I v^s much 
 pleased with my old brother's conduct and conversation ; and ^ 4(| 
 as he was going to a part of the country I had never been. ^'^ 
 in, I wished to go with him. He said that he was perfectly 
 willing. * 
 
 18 V 
 
 «i 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 4 
 
 k 
 
 i**-'-' 
 
N 
 
 206 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 "fs. 
 
 ■■?>*., 
 
 I then went with Tecaughretanego to the mouth of the 
 little lake, whore helmet with the company he intended going 
 with, which was composed of Caughnewagas and Ottawas. 
 Here I was introduced to a Caughnewaga sister, and others 
 I had never before seen. My sister's name was Mary, which 
 they pronounced Maully. I asked Tecaughretanego how it 
 ^ came that she had an English name. Ho said that he did not 
 know that it was an English name ; but it was the name the 
 priest gave her when she was baptized, which he said was 
 . the name of the mother of Jesus. He said there were a great 
 many of the Caughnewagas and Wyandots that were a kind 
 of half Roman Catholics'; but as for hiniself, he said, that 
 the priest and him could not agree, as they held notions that 
 contradicted both sense and reason, and had the assuiunce to 
 tell him that the book of God taught them these foolish ab- 
 surdities : but he could not believe the great and good Spirit 
 ever taught them any such nonsense ; and therefore he con- 
 cluded that the Indians' old religion was better than thib new 
 way of worshipping Qodi. 
 
 The Ottawas have a very useful kind of tents which they 
 carry with them, made of nags, plaited and stitched together 
 in a very artful manner, so as to turn rain or wind well— each 
 mat is made fifteen feet long, and about five feet br9ad. In 
 order to erect this kind of tent, they cut a number of long 
 straight poles, which they drive in the ground, in form of a 
 circle, leaning inwards ; then they spread the mat^ on these 
 poles, beginning at the bottom and extending up, leaving 
 only a hole in the top uncovered, and this hole answers the 
 place of a chimney. They make a fire of dry split wood in 
 the middle, and spread down burk mats and skins for bedding, 
 on which they sleep in a crooked posture all round the fire, 
 as the length of their beds will not admit of stretching them- 
 selves. In place of a door they lift up one end of a mat and 
 creep in, and let the mat fall down behind them. 
 \^Tnese tents are warm and dry, and tolerably cleir of smoke. 
 TOeir lumber they keep under birch-bark canoes, wliicii they 
 cflly out and turn up for a shelter, where ' y .ot^iyvery 
 thmg from the rain. Nothing is in the tents but themselves 
 and iheir bedding. 
 
 TJ^ 3 company had four birch canoes and four tents. We 
 
 were k:indly received, and they gave us plenty of homony, 
 
 and vvi]^ fowl boiled and roasted. As the geese, ducks, 
 
 , swans, &c., ]\ere are well grain-fed, they were remarkably 
 
 fat, fspeciauy the green-necked ducks. 
 
 • Thj wild fowl here feed upon a kind of wild rice that 
 
\ 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 207 
 
 S3 spontaneously in the shallow water, or wet places along 
 e sides or in the corners of the lakes. 
 
 As the wind was high iind we coul! not proceed on«our 
 voyage, we remained here sew nil days, and killed afeftindance 
 of wild fowl, and a number of raccoons. 
 
 When a company of Indians are moving together on the 
 lake, as it is at this time of the year often dangerous sailinc^, 
 the old men hold a council ; and when they agree to embark, 
 every o.ie is engaged immediately in making ready, without 
 oflv ling one word against the measure, though the lake may 
 b L>o: u.oas and horrid. One morning, though the wind ap- 
 pealed to me to b.e as high as in day a past, and the billows 
 rn;^ ig, yet the call was given yohoh-yohon, which was quickly 
 answered by all — ooh-ooh, which signifies agreed. We were 
 all instantly engaged in preparing to start, and hi^jfl confiidera- 
 blc difHculties in embarking. 
 
 As soon as we got into our canoes we fell to paddling with 
 all our might, making out from the shore. Though these sort 
 of canoes ride waves beyond what could be expected, yet the 
 water several times dashed into them. When we got out 
 about half a mile from shore, we hoisted sail, and as it was 
 nearly a west wind, we then seemed to ride the waves with 
 ease, and went on at a rapid rate. We then all laid down our 
 paddles, excepting one that steered, and there was no water 
 dashed into our canoes until we came near the shore again. 
 We sailed about sixty miles that day, and encamped sc me 
 time before night. 
 
 The next day we again embarked, and went on very well 
 for some time ; but the lake being boisterous, and the wind 
 not fair, we were obliged to make to shore, which we accom- 
 plished with hard work and some difficulty in landing. The 
 next morning a council was held by the old men. 
 
 As we had this day to pass by a long precipice of rocks 
 on the shore about nine miles, which rendered it impossible 
 for us to land, tl»ough the wind was high and the lake Touoh, 
 yet, as it was fair, we were all ordered to embark, ^e 
 wrought ourselves out from the shore and hoisted sail, k|]^at 
 we used in place of sail-cloth were our tent mats, whicFan- 
 swered the purpose very well,) and went on for some timrf 
 with a fair wiikt, uatil we were opposite to the precipice, and 9 
 then it turned towards the shore, and we began to «ar we^ 
 should be cast upon the rocks. Two of the canoes were con- 
 siderabfy farrh^T out from the rocks than the can^ I was in. 
 Those t*ho ivere tarthr>t jut in the lake did not let daw% 
 their sails until they hud passed the precipice; but as "W© 
 were nearer the rock, we wore obliged to lower our sails, and 
 
 .»*ii , 
 
 M 
 
 *• 
 
 Tt •'■■ iti*it'_". iitr'. . jc. t 
 
^p- 
 
 20S 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 % 
 
 ■>* 
 
 # 
 
 paddle with all our might. With much difficulty we cleared 
 ourselves of the rock, and landed. As the other canoes had 
 landed before us, there were immediately runners sent off to 
 see if we were all safely landed. 
 
 This night the wind fell, and the next morning the lake 
 was tolerably calm, and we embarked without difficulty, and 
 paddled along near the shore, until we came to the mouth of 
 Cayahaga, which empties into lake Erie on the south side, 
 betwixt Canesadooharie and Presq' Isle. 
 
 We turned up Cayahaga and encamped, where we staid 
 and hunted for several days; and so we kept moving and 
 hunting until we came to the forks of Cayahaga. 
 
 This is a very gentle river, and but few ripples, or swift 
 running places, from the mouth to the forks. Deer here were 
 tolerably plenty, large and fat ; but bear and other game 
 scarce. The upland is hilly, and principally second and third 
 rate land; the timber chiefly black oak, white oak, hickory, 
 dogwood, &c. The bottoms are rich and large, and the tim- 
 ber is walnut, locust, mulberry, sugar-tree, red haw, black haw, 
 wild apple-trees, &c. The West Branch of this river interlocks 
 with the East Branch of Muskingum, and the East Branch 
 with the Big Beaver creek, that empties into the Ohio about 
 thirty miles below Pittsburgh. 
 
 From the forks of Cayahaga to the East Branch of Musk- 
 ingum there is a carrying place, where the Indians carry 
 their canoes, &c., from the waters of lake Erie int^ the wa- 
 ters of the Ohio. 
 
 From the forks I went over with some hunters to the East 
 Branch of Muskingum, where they killed several deer, a num- 
 ber of beavers, and returned heavy laden with skins and meat, 
 which we carried on our backs, as we had no horses. 
 
 The land here is chiefly second and third rate, and the tim- 
 ber chiefly oak and hickory. A little above the forks, on the 
 East Branch of Cayahaga, are considerable rapids, very rocky 
 for some distance, but no perpendicular falls. 
 ' i^bout the first of December, 1756, we were preparing for 
 lea"%ig the river : we buried our canoes, and as usual hung 
 up our skins, and every one had a pack to carry. The squaws 
 also packed up their tents, which they carried in large rolls 
 that extended up above their heads, and though a great bulk, 
 yet no# heavy. We steered about a south-east course, and 
 could not march over ten miles per day. At night we lodged 
 in our fla'g tents, which, when erected, were nearly in the 
 shape of a sugar-loaf, and about fifteen feet diameter at the 
 * ground. 
 
 In this manner we proceeded about forty miles, and win- 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 209 
 
 cleared 
 es had 
 t off to 
 
 le lake 
 
 ty, and 
 outh of 
 th side, 
 
 ire 
 
 staid 
 
 ing and 
 
 or swift 
 !re were 
 jr game 
 nd third 
 hickory, 
 the tim- 
 ick haw, 
 [iterlocks 
 t Branch 
 lio about 
 
 ns 
 
 Musk- 
 carry 
 the wa- 
 
 the East 
 a num- 
 nd meat, 
 
 s 
 
 the tira- 
 on the 
 ry rocky 
 
 anng for 
 ual hung 
 squaws 
 rge rolls 
 eat bulk, 
 rse, and 
 e lodged 
 y in the 
 r at the 
 
 land win- 
 
 tered in these tents, on the waters of Beaver creek, near a little 
 lake or large pond, which is about two miles long and one 
 broad, and a remarkable place for beaver. 
 
 It is a received opinion among the Indians that the geese 
 turn to beavers, and the snakes to raccoons ; and though Te- 
 caughretanego, who was a wise man, was not fully persuaded 
 that this was true, yet he seemed in some measure to be car- 
 ried away with this whimsical notion. He said that this pond 
 had been always a great place for beaver. Though he said 
 he knew them to be frequently all killed, (as he thought,) yet 
 the next winter they would be as plenly as ever. And as the 
 beaver was an animal that did not travel by land, and there 
 being no water communication to or from this pond, how 
 could such a number of beavers get there year after year ? But 
 as this pond was also a considerable place for geese, when 
 they came in the fall from the north, and alighted in this pond, 
 they turned beavers, all but the feet, which remained nearly 
 the same. 
 
 I said, that though there was no water communication in or 
 out of this pond, yet it appeared that it was fed by springs, as 
 it was always clear, and never stagnated ; and as a very large 
 spring rose about a mile below this pond, it was likely that 
 this spring came from this pond. In the fall, when this spring 
 is comparatively low, there would be air undef ground suffi- 
 cient for the beavers to breathe in, with their heads above 
 water, &r they cannot live long under water, and so they 
 might have a subterraneous passage by water into this pond. 
 Tecaughretanego granted that it might be so. 
 
 About the sides of this pond there grew great abundance of 
 cranberries, which the Indians gathered up on the ice when 
 the pond was frozen over. These berries were about as large 
 as rifle bullets, of a bright red color, an agreeable sour, 
 though rather too sour of themselves, but when mixed with 
 sugar had a very agreeable taste. 
 
 In conversation with Tecaughretanego, I happened to be 
 talking of the beavers catching fish. He asked me wl 
 thought that the beaver caught fish. I told him that 
 read of the beaver making dams for the conveniency of filffiing. 
 He laughed, and made game of me and my book. He said 
 the man that wrote that book knew nothing about the beaver. 
 Th'^ beaver never did eat flestf of any kind, but liv^ on the 
 bark of trees, roots, and other vegetables. ' 
 
 In order to know certainly how this was, when we killed a 
 beaver I carefully examined the intestines, but found no ap- 
 pearance of fish; I afterwards made an experiment on% pe^ 
 beaver which we had, and found that it would neither eat nth 
 
 18# 
 
 wt^I 
 Mad 
 
 •*■ 
 
 Mm^^ 
 
 'M 
 
 i ft 
 
■* 
 
 m 
 
 
 ■r^ 
 
 210 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 nor flesh ; therefore I acknowledged that the hook 1 had read 
 was wrong. 
 
 I asked him if the beaver was an amphibious animal, or if it 
 could live unijer water. He said that the beaver was a kind 
 of subterraneous water animal that lives in or near the water ; 
 but they were no more amphibious than the ducks and geese 
 were, which was constantly proven to be the case, as all the 
 beavers that are caught in steel traps are drov led, provided 
 the trap be heavy enough to keep them under ' . ater. As the 
 beaver does not eat fish, I inquired of Tecaughretanego why 
 the beaver made such large dams. He said they were of use 
 to them in various respects — both for their safety and food. 
 For their safety, as by raising the water over the mouths of 
 their holes, or subterraneous lodging places, they could not be 
 easily found ; and as the beaver feeds chiefly on the bark of 
 trees, by raising the water over the banks they can cut down 
 saplings for bark to feed upon without going out much upon 
 the land ; and when they are obliged to go out on land for 
 this food they frequently are caught by the wolves. As the 
 beaver can run upon land but little faster than a water tortoise, 
 and is no fighting animal, if they are any distance from the 
 water they become an easy prey to their enemies. 
 
 I asked Tecaughretanego what was the use of the beavers' 
 stones, or glands, to them ; as the she beaver has two pair, 
 which is a|mmonly called the oil stones, and the bark stones. 
 He said tnat as the beavers are the dumbest of all animals, 
 and scarcely ever make any noise, and as they were working 
 creatures, they made use of this smell in order to work in 
 concert. If an old beaver was to come on the bank and rub 
 his breech upon the ground, and raise a perfume, the others 
 will collect from different places and go to work : this is also 
 of use to them in travelling, that they may thereby search out 
 and find their company. Cunning hunters, finding this out, 
 have made use of it against the beavers, in order to catch 
 them. What is the bait which you see them make use of but 
 a compound of the oil and bark stones ? By this perOjme, 
 which is only a false signal, they decoy them to the trap. 
 
 Near this pond beaver was the principal game. Before the 
 water froze up we caught a great many with wooden and steel 
 traps ; but after that, we hunted the beaver on the ice. Some 
 places l^pre the beavers build large houses to live in ; and in 
 other places they have subterraneous lodgings in the banks. 
 ■ Where they lodge in the ground we have no chance of hunting 
 them on the ice ; but where they have houses, we go with 
 mal%and handspikes, and break all the hollow ice, to prevent 
 tbem ftom getting their heads above the water under it. Then 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 211 
 
 read 
 
 ir if it 
 I kind 
 irater ; 
 geese 
 ill the 
 Dvided 
 As the 
 o why 
 of use 
 d food, 
 iths of 
 not be 
 bark of 
 It down 
 ;h upon 
 [and for 
 As the 
 tortoise, 
 rom the 
 
 beavers' 
 svo pair, 
 stones, 
 animals, 
 working 
 work in 
 and rub 
 e others 
 is also 
 arch out 
 "this out, 
 to catch 
 ;e of but 
 er^ume, 
 
 pfore the 
 lind steel 
 Some 
 and in 
 banks. 
 1 hunting 
 go with 
 prevent 
 Then 
 
 wo break a hole in the house, and they make their escape into 
 the water ; but as they cannot live long under water, they are 
 obliged to go to some of those broken places to breathe, and 
 the Indians commonly put in their hands, catchy them by the 
 hind leg, haul them on the ice, and tomahawk them. Some- 
 times they shoot them in the head when they raise it above 
 the water. I asked the Indians if they were not afraid to catch 
 the beavers with their hands. They said no : they v/ere not 
 much 01 a biting creature ; yet if they would catch them by 
 the fore foot they would bite. 
 
 I went out with Tecaughretanego and some others a beaver 
 hunting ; but we did not succeed, and on our return we saw 
 where several raccoons had passed while the snow was soft, 
 though there was now a crust upon it ; we all made a halt, 
 looking at the raccoon tracks. As they saw a tree with a hole 
 in it, they told me to go and see if they had gon6 in thereat ; 
 and if they had to halloo, and they would come and take them 
 out. When I went to that tree, I found they had gone past ; 
 but I saw another the way they had gone, and proceeded to 
 examine that, and found they had gone up it. I then began 
 to halloo, but could have no answer. 
 
 As it began to snow and blow most violently, I returned and 
 proceeded after my company, and for some time could see their 
 tracks ; but the old snow being only about three inches deep, 
 and a crust upon it, the present driving snow soonfffilled up 
 the tracks. As I had only a bow, arrows, and tomahawk with 
 me, and no way to strike fire, I appeared to be in a dismal 
 situation; and as the air was dark with sncw, I had little 
 more prospect of steering my course than I would in the night. 
 At length I came to a hollow tree, with a hole at one side that 
 I could go in at. I went in, and found that it was a dry 
 place, and the hollow about three feet diameter, and high 
 enough for me to stand in. f found that there was also a 
 considerable quantity of soft, dry rotten wood around this hol- 
 low ; I therefore concluded that I would lodge here, and that 
 I would go to work, and stop up the door of my house. I 
 stripped off my blanket, (which was all the clothes that I Mad, 
 excepting a breech-clout, leggins and moccasins,) and with 
 my tomahawk fell to chopping at the top of a fallen tree that 
 lay near, and carried wood, and set it up on end against the 
 door, until I had it three or four feet thick all around, except- 
 ing a hole I had left to creep in at. I had a block prepared that 
 1 could haul after me to stop this hole ; and before I went 
 in I put in a number of small sticks that I might more effect 
 tually stop it on the inside. When I went in, I took my tdma- 
 hawk and cut down all the dry rotten wood I could get, and 
 
 ■% 
 
 t 
 
 
 ,',"3e.-. 
 
212 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 4 
 
 *> 
 
 m 
 
 m- 
 
 f * 
 
 beat it small. With it I made a bed like a goose-nest or hog- 
 bed, and with the small sticks stopped every hole, until my 
 house was almost dark. I stripped off my moccasins, and 
 danced in the centre of my bed, for about half an hour, in 
 order to warm myself. In this time my feet and whole body 
 were agreeably warmed. The snow, in the mean while, had 
 stopped all the holes, so that my house was as dark as a dun- 
 geon, though I knew it could not yet be dark out of doors. I' 
 then coiled myself up in my blanket, lay down in my little 
 round bed, and had a tolerable night's lodging. When I 
 awoke all was dark — not the least glimmering of light was to 
 be seen. Immediately I recollected that I was not to expect 
 light in this new habitation, as there was neither door nor 
 window in it. As I could hear the storm raging, and did not 
 suffer much cold as I was then situated, I concluded I would 
 stay in my nest until I was certain it was day. When I had 
 reason to conclude that it surely was day, I arose and put on 
 my moccasins, which I had laid under my head to keep from 
 freezing. I then endeavored to find the door, and had to do 
 all by the sense of feeling, which took me some time. At 
 length I found the block, but it being heavy, and a large quan- 
 tity of snow having fallen on it, at the first attempt I did not 
 move it. I then felt terrified — among all the hardships I had 
 sustained; I never knew before what it was to be thus deprived 
 of lightj^" This, with the other circumstances attending it, 
 appeared grievous. I went straightway to bed again, wrapped 
 my blanket round me, and lay and mused a while, and then 
 prayed to Almighty God to direct and protect me as he had 
 done heretofore. I once again attempted to move away the 
 block, which proved successful ; it moved about nine inches. 
 With this a considerable quantity of snow fell in from above, 
 and I immediately' received light; so that I found a very great 
 snow had fallen, above what I had ever seen in one night. I 
 then knew why I could not easily move the block, and I was 
 ■"so rejoiced at obtaining the light that all my other difficulties 
 seemed to vanish. I then turned into my cell, and returned 
 God thanks for having once more received the light of heaven. 
 At length I belted my blanket about me, got my tomahawk, 
 bow and arrows, and went out of my den. 
 
 I was now in tolerable high spirits, though the snow had 
 fallen above three fe°it deep, in addition to what was on the 
 ground before ; and the only imperfect guide I had in order to 
 . steer my course to camp was the trees, as the moss generally 
 grows on the north-west side of them, if they are straight. I 
 proceeded on, v.'ading through the snow, and about twelve 
 o'clock (as it appeared afterwards, from that time to night, for 
 
ir hog- 
 
 itil my 
 
 s, and 
 
 3ur, in 
 
 e body 
 
 le, had 
 a dun- 
 
 (ors. I ' 
 
 ly little 
 
 ^hen I 
 
 ; was to 
 
 ) expect 
 
 oor nor 
 did not 
 
 I would 
 
 3n I had 
 
 d put on 
 
 3ep from. 
 
 ad to do 
 
 me. At 
 
 ge quan- 
 
 I did not 
 
 ips I had 
 deprived 
 
 nding it, 
 wrapped 
 and then 
 s he had 
 away the 
 .e inches. 
 )m above, 
 ery great 
 night. I 
 md I was 
 fficulties 
 returned 
 if heaven, 
 mahawk. 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 213 
 
 it was yet cloudy) I came upon the creek that our camp was 
 on, about half a mile below the camp ; and when I came in 
 sight of the camp, I found that there was great joy, by the 
 shouts and yelling of the boys, &c. 
 
 When I arrived, they all came round me, and received me- 
 gladly ; but at this time no questions were asked, and I was 
 taken into a tent, where they gave me plenty of fat beaver 
 meat, and then asked me to smoke. When I had done, Te- 
 caughretanego desired me to walk out to a fire they had made. 
 I went out, and they all collected round me, both men, women, 
 and boys. Tecaughretanego asked me to give them a particu- 
 lar account of what had happened from the time they left me 
 yesterday until now. I told them the whole of the story, and 
 they never interrupted me ; but when I made a stop, the inter- 
 vals were filled with loud acclamations of joy. As I could not 
 at this time talk Ottawa or Jibewa well, (which is nearly the 
 same,) I delivered my story in Caughnewaga. As my sister 
 Molly's husband was a Jibewa, and could understand Caugh- 
 newaga, he acted as interpreter, and delivered my story to the 
 Jibe was and Ottawas, which they received with pleasure. 
 When all this was done, Tecaughretanego made a speech to 
 me in the following manner : 
 
 *' Brother, — You see we have prepared snow-shoes to go 
 after you, and were almost ready to go when you appeared ; 
 yet, as you had not been accustomed to hardships in^your coun- 
 try, to the east, we never expected to see you alive. Now we 
 are glad to see you in various respects : we are g'ad to see 
 you on your own account ; and we are glad to see the prospect 
 of your filling the place of a great man, in whose room you 
 were adopted. We do not blame you for what has happened, 
 we blame ourselves ; because we did not think of thisdriving 
 snow filling up the tracks, until after we came to camp. 
 
 " Brother, — Your conduct on this occasion hath pleased us 
 much ; you have given us an evidence of your fortitude, skill, 
 and resolution ; and we hope you will always go on to do 
 great actions, as it is only great actions that can make a great 
 man." 
 
 I told my brother Tecaughretanego that I thanked them for 
 their care of me, and for the kindness I always ■cceived. I 
 told him that I always wished to do great actions, and hoped I 
 never would do any thing to dishonor any of those with v^om 
 I was connected. I likewise told my Jibewa brother-in-law to 
 tell his people that I also thanked them for their care and 
 kindness. 
 
 The next morning some of the hunters went out on snow- 
 shoes, killed several deer, and hauled some of them into camp 
 
 '\ 
 
 \ Ut 
 
 ■Sii- 
 
 1^'- 
 
 
 mm 
 
 f\ 
 
 h^ 
 *lll 
 
 i 
 
*? 
 
 
 m 
 
 I' 
 
 « 
 
 214 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 upon the snow. They fixed their carrying strings (which are 
 broad in the middle and small at each end) in the fore feet 
 and nose of the deer, and laid the broad part of it on their 
 heads or about their shoulders, and pulled it along ; and when 
 it is moving, will not sink in the snow much deeper than a 
 snow-shoe ; and when taken with the grain of the hair, slips 
 along very easily. 
 
 The snow-shoes are made like a hoop-net, and wrought with 
 buckskin thongs. Each shoe is about two feel and a half long, 
 and about eighteen inches broad before, and small behind, with 
 cross-bars, in order to fix or tie them to their feet. After the 
 snow had lain a few days, the Indians tomahawked the deer, 
 by pursuing them in this manner. 
 
 About two weeks after this there came a warm rain, and 
 took away the chief part of the snow, and broke up the ice ; 
 then we engaged in making wooden traps to catch beavers, as 
 we had but few steel traps. These traps are made nearly in 
 the same manner as the raccoon traps already described. 
 
 One. day, as I was looking after my traps, I got benighted, 
 by beaver ponds intercepting my way to camp ; and as I had 
 neglected to take fireworks with me, and the weather very 
 cold, I could find no suitable lodging place ; therefore, the only 
 expedient I could think of to keep myself from freezing was 
 exercise. jJL danced and hallooed the whole night with all my 
 might, amTthe next day came to camp. Though I sufl!ered 
 much more this time than the other night I lay out, yet the 
 Indians were not so much concerned, as they thought I had 
 fireworks with me ; but when they knew how it was, they did 
 not blame me. They said that old hunters were frequently 
 involved in this place, as the beaver dams were one above 
 another on everyjcree|c and run, so that it is hard to find a 
 fording place. They applauded me for my fortitude, and said, 
 as they had now plenty of beaver skins, they would purchase 
 *ie a new gun at Detroit, as we were to go there the next 
 spring; and then if I should chance to be lost in dark weather, 
 I could make a fire, kill provision, and return to camp v/hen 
 the sun shined. By being bewildered on the waters of Musk- 
 ingum, I lost repute, and was reduced to the bow and arrow, 
 and by lyi?% out two nights here I regained my credit. 
 
 AJter some time the waters all froze again, and then, as 
 foih;^erly, we hunted beavers on the ice. Though beaver meat, 
 without salt or bread, was the chief of our food this winter, yet 
 we had alway^plenty, and I was well contented with my diet, 
 as it iippeared delicious fare, after the way we had lived the 
 winter before. 
 
 Some time in February, we scaffolded up our fur and skins, 
 
V COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 216 
 
 h are 
 e feet 
 their 
 when 
 han a 
 , slips 
 
 It with 
 f long, 
 i, with 
 ter the 
 e deer, 
 
 in, and 
 he ice ; 
 vers, as 
 jarly in 
 
 d.' 
 
 lighted, 
 
 IS I had 
 
 er very 
 
 the only 
 
 ing was 
 
 1 all my 
 suffered 
 yet the 
 It I had 
 ;hey did 
 squently 
 [e above 
 :o find a 
 ind said, 
 (urchase 
 Ithe next 
 tveather, 
 p v/hen 
 f Musk- 
 arrow, 
 
 then, as 
 [er meat, 
 Inter, yet 
 Imy diet, 
 ^ved the 
 
 Id skins, 
 
 and moved about ten miles in quest of a sugar camp, or a suit- 
 able place to make sugar, and encamped in a large bottom on 
 the head waters of Big Beaver creek. We had some diffi- 
 culty in moving, as we had a blind Caughnewaga boy, about 
 fifteen years of age, to lead ; and as this country is very 
 brushy, we frequently had him to carry. We had also my 
 Jibewa brother-in-law's father with us, who was thought by 
 the Indians to be a great conjuror ; his name was Manetohcoa. 
 This old man was so decrepit that we had to carry him this 
 route upon a bier, and all our baggage to pack on our backs. 
 
 Shortly after we came to this place, the squaws began to 
 make sugar. We had no large kettles with us this year, and 
 they made the frost, in some measure, supply the place of fire, 
 in making sugar. Their large bark vessels, for holding the 
 stock water, they made broad and shallow ; and as the weather 
 is very cold here, it frequently freezes at night in sugar time ; 
 and the ice they break and cast out of the vessels. I asked 
 them if they were not throwing away the sugar. They said 
 no ; it was water they were casting away; sugar did not^eeze, 
 and there was scarcely any in that ice. They said I might 
 try the experiment, and boil some of it, and see what I would 
 get. I never did try it ; but I observed that, after several times 
 freezing, the water that remained in the vessel changed its 
 color, and became brown and very sweet. m^ 
 
 About the time we were done making sugar the sTOw went 
 off the ground ; and one night a squaw raised an alarm. She 
 said she saw two men with guns in their hands, upon the bank 
 on the other side of the creek, spying our tents ; they were 
 supposed to be Johnston's Mohawks. On this the Squaws were 
 ordered to slip quietly out some distance into the bushes, and 
 all who had either guns or bows were tp souat in the bushes 
 near the tents ; and if the enemy rushed upf we were to give 
 them the first fire, and let the squaws have an opportunity of 
 escaping. I got down beside Tecaughretanego, and he whis- . 
 pered to me not to be afraid, for he would speak to the Mo- 
 hawks, and as they spoke the same tongue that we did they 
 would not hurt the Caughnewagas or m*^ ; but they would kill 
 all the Jibewas and Ottawas that they could, and take us along 
 with them. This news pleased me well, and I heartHy wished 
 for the approach of the Mohawks. <f. 
 
 Before we withdrew from the tents thtey had carried Marie* 
 tohcoa to the fire, and gave him his conjuring tools,<which were 
 dyed feathers, the bone of the shoulder-blade of |l wildcat, to- 
 bacco, &c. And while we were in the bushes, Manetohcoa 
 was in a tent at the fire, conjuring away to the utmost of his 
 ability. At length he called aloud for us all to come in, which 
 
 r* ; 
 
 m 
 
 ^#.' 
 
 "^A, 
 
 «:^ 
 
*-!*. 
 
 II 
 
 ii 
 
 -t, 
 
 216 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 was quickly obeyed. When we came in he told us that after 
 he had gone through the whole of his ceremony, and expected 
 to see a number of Mohawks on the flat bone when it was 
 warmed at the fire, the pictures of two wolves only appeared. 
 He said, though there were no Mohawks about, we must not 
 be angry with the squaw for giving -. false alarm ; as she had 
 occasion to go out and happened to see the wolves, though it 
 was moonlight, yet she got afraid, and she conceited it was 
 Indit ns with guns in their hands. So he said we might all go 
 to sleep, for there was no danger ; and accordingly we did. 
 
 Tho next morning we went to the place, and found wolf 
 track J, and where they had scratched with their feet like dogs ; 
 but there was no sign of moccasin tracks. If there is any such 
 thing as a wizard, I think Manetohcoa was as likely to be one 
 as any man, as he was a professed worshipper of the devil. 
 But let him be a conjuror or not, I am persuaded that the In- 
 dians beJieved what he told them upon this occasion, as well 
 as if it had come from an infallible oracle ; or they would not, 
 after such an alarm as this, go all to sleep in an unconcerned 
 manner. This appeared to me the most like witchcraft of any 
 thing I beheld while I was with them. Though I scrutinized 
 their proceedings in business of this kind, yet I generally found 
 that their pretended witchcraft was either art or mistaken no- 
 tions, whereby they deceived themselves. Before a battle they 
 spy the enemy's motions carefully, and when they find that 
 tney can have considefSble advantag-e, and the greatest prospect 
 of success, then the old men pretend to conjure, or to tell what 
 the event will be ; and this they do in a figurative manner, 
 which will bear something of a diflferent interpretation, which 
 generally comes 4o paSs nearly as they foretold. Therefore the 
 young warriors generally believed these old conjurors, which 
 had a tendency to allimate and excite them to push on with 
 vigor. ■' » 
 
 Some time in March, 1757, we began to move back to the 
 forks of Cayahaga, which was about forty or fifty miles. And 
 As we had no horses, we had all our baggage and several hun- 
 dred weight of beaver skins, and some deer and bear skins, all 
 to pack on our backs. The method we took to accomplish this 
 was by making short days' journeys. In the morning we would 
 SMve on, with as much as we were able to carry, about five 
 Ihiles, and encamp, and then run back for more. We com- 
 monly malfe three such trips in the day. When we came to 
 the great p(H|d, we staid there one day to rest ourselves, and to 
 kilMucks and geese. 
 
 While we remained here, I went in company with a young 
 Caughnewaga, who was about sixteen or seventeen years of 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 2] 
 
 lected 
 t was 
 sared. 
 St not 
 le had 
 ugh it 
 it was 
 all go 
 lid. 
 
 d wolf 
 5 dogs; 
 
 \y such 
 
 be one 
 5 devil, 
 the In- 
 as well 
 uld not, 
 ncerned 
 ft of any 
 utinized 
 ly found 
 iken no- 
 ttle they 
 •ind that 
 [prospect 
 ;ell what 
 mannet, 
 n, which 
 jefore the 
 •s, which 
 on with 
 
 ck to the 
 fes. And 
 bral hun- 
 ^kins, all 
 plish this 
 Ive would 
 libout five 
 ''e com- 
 catne to 
 js, and to 
 
 a young 
 yeaTS of 
 
 age, Chinnohete by name, in order to gather cranberries. As 
 he was gathering berries at some distance from me, three Jib- 
 ewa squaws crept up undiscovered, and made at him speedily, 
 but he nimbly escaped, and came to me apparently terrifiea. 
 I asked him what he was afraid of. He replied, did you not 
 see those squaws ? I told him I did, and they appeared to be 
 in a very good humor. I asked him wherefore then he was 
 afraid of them. He said the Jibewa squaws were very bad 
 women, and had a very ugly custom" among them. I asked 
 him what that custom was. He said that when two or three 
 of them could catch a young lad, that was betwixt a man and 
 a boy, out by himself, if they could overpower him, they would 
 strip him by force, in order to see whether he was coming on 
 to be a man or not. He said that was what they intended 
 when they crawled up and ran so violently at him ; but, said 
 he, I am very glad that I so narrowly escaped. I then agreed 
 with Chinnohete in condemning this as a bad custom, and an 
 exceedingly .immodest action for young women to be guilty of. 
 
 From our sugar camp on the head waters of Big Beaver 
 creek to this place is not hilly. In some places the woods are 
 tolerably clear, but in most places exceedingly brushy. The 
 land here is chiefly second and third rate.- The timber on the 
 upland is white oak, black oak, hickory, and chesnut. There 
 is also in some places walnut upland, and plenty of gd^ water. 
 The bottoms here are generally large aod good. 
 
 We again proceeded on from the pond to the forks of Caya« 
 haga, at the rate of about five miles per day. 
 
 The land on this route is not v^ry hilly; it is w^ll watered, 
 and in many places ill timbered, generally brushy, and chiefly 
 second and third rate land, intermixed with good bottoms. 
 
 When we came to the forks, we found J^at the skins we had 
 scafiblded were all safe. Thougjh this was a public place, and 
 Indians frequently passing, and mir skins hanging up in view, 
 yet there were none stolen. And it is seldom that Indians do 
 steal any thing from one another. And they say they never , 
 did, until the while people came among them, and learnect|^« 
 some of them to lie, cheat, and steal; but be that as it may'^" 
 they never did curse or swear until the whites learned them.. 
 Some think their language will not admit of it, but I am not 
 of that opinion. If I was so disposed, I could find langua|fQ^ 
 to curse or swear in the Indian tongue. a 
 
 I remember that Tecaughretanego, when something displeas- 
 ed him, said, God damn it. I asked him if he kffew what^he 
 then said. He said he did, and mentioned one of their t^grad- > 
 ing expressions, which he supposed to be the meaning or 
 something like the meaning of what he had said. Ilold him. 
 19 
 
 .!!. ' 
 
 Iff *, 
 
 
\ •^■ 
 
 218 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 % 
 
 m 
 
 that it did not bear the least resemblance to it ; that what he 
 had said was calling upon the Great Spirit to punish the object 
 he was displeased with. He stood for some time amazed, and 
 then said, if this be the meaning of these words, what sort of 
 people are the whites? ^When the traders were among us, 
 these words seemed to he intermixed with all their discourse. 
 He told me to reconsider what I had said, for he thought I 
 must be mistaken in my definition.- If I was not mistaken, he 
 said, the traders applied these wordb not only wickedly, but 
 oftentimes vtry foolishly and contrary to sense or reason. He 
 said he remembered once of a trader's accidentally breaking 
 his gun-lock, and on that occasion calling out aloud, God damn 
 it ; surely, said he, the gun^ck was not an object worthy of 
 punishment for Owaneeyo^ or tite Great Spirit. He also ob- 
 served the traders often used this expression when th^ wevr in 
 a good humor, and not displeased with any thing. I acknow- 
 ledged that the traders used this expression very often, xn a 
 most irrational, incoi^sistent, and impious manner ; yet 1 still 
 asserted that I had given the true meaning of these words. 
 He replied, if so, the traders are as bad as Oon-dsahroona, or 
 the under ground inhabitants, which is the name they give the 
 devils, as they entertain a notion that their place of residence 
 18 under the earth. 
 
 * We tibk up our birch-bark canoes which w«* had buried, and 
 
 foil^nd that they were not damaged by the- winter ; but they 
 
 V not being sufficient to carry all that we now had-, we made a 
 
 -uar|;e chesnut-bark canoe, as elm bark was not to be found at 
 
 this place. ■^- , ■■■^:, ■\!;^'''.y ^c^^ 7'ir.,. »•'• //■'^■& * • 
 
 * We all embarked, and had a very agreeable "passage down 
 
 ^ the Gayahaga,*lind along the south *side of lake Erie, until 
 
 we passed the mouth of Sandusky ; then the wind arose, and 
 
 fe put in at the mouth of- the Miami of the lake, at Cedar 
 oint, where we femained ^PFerafdays, and killed a number 
 of turkeys, geese, duck», and swans. The wind being fair, 
 . and ihe lake not extremely rough, we again embarked, hoisted 
 # ' *^ sails, and arrived safe at the Wyandot town, nearly oppo- 
 site to fprt Detroit, on the north side of the river. Here we 
 found a numbev»of French traders, every one very willing to 
 deal with us for our beaver. 
 
 tWe bought ourselves fine clothes, ammunition, paint, tobacco, 
 .,and, msordmg 1i) promise, they purchased me a new gun; 
 yet wtp hwr parted with only about one third of our beaver. 
 At length a%ad4|f came to town with French brandy ; we pur- 
 chraed a keg of it, and held a couii-^il about who was to get 
 drunk and who was to keep sober. I was invited to get drunk, 
 but I refused the proposal ; then they told me that I must be 
 
 li 
 
J0 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 219 
 
 , what he 
 
 the object 
 
 azed, and 
 
 at sort of 
 
 mong us, 
 
 discourse. 
 
 thought I 
 
 staken, he 
 
 kedly, but 
 
 ison. He 
 
 f breaking 
 
 God damn 
 worthy of 
 
 [e also ob- 
 
 ley wevt in 
 1 acknow- 
 often, xn a 
 yet 1 still 
 
 lese words. 
 
 ahroona, or 
 
 ley give the 
 
 )f residence 
 
 buried, and 
 but they 
 we made a 
 be found at 
 
 ssage down 
 Erie, until 
 i arose, and 
 e, at Cedar 
 id a number 
 being fair, 
 ced, hoisted 
 learly oppo- 
 Here we 
 willing to 
 
 Lint, tobacco, 
 [anew gun; 
 |ouT beaver. 
 Jy ; we pur- 
 was to get 
 Jo get drunk, 
 [t 1 must be 
 
 one of those who were to take care of the drunken people. I 
 did not like this ; but of two evils I chose that which I thought , 
 was the least — and fell in with those who. were to conceal the 
 arms, and keep every dangerous weapon we could out of their 
 way, and endeavor, if possible, to keiep the drinking club from 
 killing each other, which was a ver^'hard task. Several times 
 we hazarded our own lives,^ and got Ourselves hurt, in prevent- 
 ing them from slaying eacji other. • Before they had finished 
 this keg, near one third of the town was introduced to this 
 drinking club; they could not pay their part, as they had 
 already disposed of all their skins t but that made no odds — all 
 were welcome to drink. 
 
 When they were done with th^ keg, they applied to the tra- 
 ders, and procured a kettle^ull of brandy at a time, which 
 they divided out with a large wooden spoon ; and so they 
 went on, and never quit while they had a ftingle beaver skin. 
 
 When the trader had got all our beaver, he moved off to the 
 Ottawa town, about a mile above the Wyandot town. 
 
 When the brandy was gone, and the drinking club sober, 
 they appeared much dejected. Some of them were crippled, 
 others badly wounded, a numbipr of their fine new shirts tore, 
 and several blankets were burned. A number of squaws were 
 also in this club, and neglected their corn-planting. 
 
 We could now hear the effects of the brandy in tl;j|| Otta!|ra 
 town. They were singing and yelling in the most hideotM, 
 manner, both night and day ; but their frolic ended worse ^mn 
 ours : five Ottawas were killed and a great many woundej. . : 
 
 After this a number of young Indians were getting their 
 ears cut, and they urged me to have mine cut likewise, but 
 they did not attempt to^ttcompel me, .though Aey endeavored 
 to persuade me. The principal argument^ they used were, 
 its being a very great ornameTit, and also* the common fash- 
 ion. The former 1 did mt b||ieve, and <the latter I couM 
 not denj. The way they performed this operation was by 
 cutting the fleshy part of the circle of thg. ear, clq^e to the 
 gristle, quite through. When this was done they wrapt. TOgf ^ 
 round this fleshy part until it was entirely healed ; they ^ittlOi 
 hung lead to it, and stretched it to a wonder^l length : wt^n 
 it was sufficiently stretched, they wrapped the lleshy part round 
 with brass wire, which formed it into a pemicircle about £uf 
 inches diameter. t^ ^^^ 
 
 Many of the young men were now exercising tHphiselves in 
 a game resembling foot-ball, though they-^comiadonly struck » 
 the ball with a crooked stick made for thai purpose ; ako a ^ 
 game something like this, wherein they used a woodih ball, 
 about three inches diameter, and the instrument they moved it 
 
 .., 
 
 
 4* 
 
 
 # 
 
 
 * 
 
220 
 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 # 
 
 •,<- 
 
 
 with was a strong staff, about five feel long, with a hoop net on 
 the end of it large enough to contain the ball. Before they 
 begin the play, thejf, lay ofT about half a mile distoncc in a 
 clear plain, and the opposite parties all attend at the centre, 
 where a disinterested person casts up the ball, then the oppo- 
 site parties all contend forlt. If any one gets it into his net, 
 he runs with it the way he wishes it to go, and they all pursue 
 him. If one of the opposite party overtakes the person with 
 the ball, he gives the staff a stroke, which causes the ball to 
 fly out of the net ; then they have another debate for it, and if 
 the one that gets it can outrun all the opposite party, and can 
 carry it quite out, or over the line at the end, the game is won ; 
 but this seldom happens. When any one is running away 
 with the ball, and is likpjiy to be overtaken, he commonly 
 throws it, and with this instrument can cast it fifty or sixty 
 yards. Sometimes "when the ball is almost at the one end, 
 matters will take a sudden turn, and the opposite party may 
 quickly carry it out at the other end. Oftentimes they will 
 work a long while back and forward before they can get the 
 ball over the line, or win the game. 
 
 About the Ist of June, 1757, the warriors were preparing to 
 go 16 war, in the Wyandot, Pottowatomy, and Ottawa towns ; 
 also'a great many Jibewas came down from the upper lakes ; 
 fl4it after' singing their war-songs, and going through their 
 common ceremonies, they marched off against the frontiers of 
 Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, in their usua^> mariner, 
 singing the travelling song, slow firing, &c. 
 
 On the north side of the river St. Lawrence, opposite to 
 fort Detroit, there is an island, which the Indians call the 
 Long Island, and which they say is above one thousand miles 
 long, and in some places above one hundred miles broad. 
 They further say that the great river that comes down by Can- 
 Watauga, and that empties inl»''the'' main branch of St, Law- 
 rence, above* Montreal, originates from one source with the St, 
 
 %, Lawrence, and fornix this island, 
 
 5j5!v v Opposite to Detroit, and below it, was originally a prairie, 
 
 , ' and laid off in lots about sixty rods broad, and a great length ; 
 
 each lot is divided into two fields, which they cultivate year 
 
 about. The principal grain that the French raised iYi these 
 
 fidbis was spring wheat and peas. 
 
 ifl Tb#y buUt all the!* houses on the front of these lots on the 
 
 ' river^side j^nd .as the banks of the river are very low, some 
 of the'houses ar^jiflrt above three or four feet above the sur- 
 face of the water; yet they are in no danger of being disturb- 
 ed by fleshets, as the river seldom rises above eighteen inches; 
 
 ■# 
 
 m 
 
 » 
 
) net on 
 re they 
 cc in a 
 
 centre, 
 e oppo- 
 
 his net, 
 I pursue 
 ion with 
 le ball to 
 it, and if 
 and can 
 i is won ; 
 ng away 
 ommonly 
 
 or sixty 
 
 one end, 
 (arty may 
 
 they will 
 n get the 
 
 sparing to 
 m towns; 
 per lakes; 
 (Ugh their 
 rontiers of 
 [\ marttier, 
 
 ipposite to 
 Is call the 
 sand miles 
 les broad, 
 rn by Can" 
 I St. LaW" 
 [ith the St, 
 
 a prairie, 
 jjat length ; 
 (ivate year 
 Id 'tci these 
 
 llots on the 
 
 low, some 
 
 ve the sur- 
 
 ig disturb- 
 
 ^en inches; 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 321 
 
 'V. 
 
 because it is the communication of the river St. Lawrence, 
 from one lake to another. 
 
 As dwelling-houses, barns and stables are all built on the 
 front of ihese lots, at a distance it appears^ike a continued row 
 of houses in a town, on each side of the river, for a long way. 
 These villages, the town, the river «nd the plains, being all in 
 view at once, afford a most delightful prospect. 
 
 The inhabitants here chiefly drink the river water ; and as 
 it comes from the northward, it is very wholesome. 
 
 The land here is principally second rate, and, comparatively 
 speaking, a small part is ^rst or third rate ; though about four 
 or five miles south of Detroit there is a small portion that is 
 worse than what I would call third rate, which produces abun- 
 dance of whortleberries. 
 
 There is plenty of good meado\^ ground here, and a great 
 many marshes that are overspread with water. The timber is 
 elm, sugar-tree, black ash, white ash, abundance of water ash, 
 oak, hickory, and some walnut. 
 
 About the middle of June, the Indians were almost all gone 
 to war, from sixteen to sixty ; yet Tecaughretanego remained 
 in town with me. Though he had formerly, when they were 
 at war with the southern nations, been a great warrior and an 
 eminent counsellor, and I think as clear and able a reasoner 
 upon any subject that he had an opportunity of being amuau||* 
 ed with as I ever knew ; yet he had all along been tt|^inBt 
 this war, and had strenuously opposed it in council. He said^ 
 if the English and French had a quarrel, let them fight Hheir 
 own battles themselves ; it is not our business to intermeddle 
 therewith. 
 
 Before the warriors returned, we were very scarce of pro- 
 visir n , and though we did not commonly steal from one 
 anotaer, yet we stole during this time any thing that we could 
 eat from the French, under th^^otion that it was just for vm 
 to do so, because they supported their soldiers; and our squaws, 
 eld men and children were suffering on |jhe account of the 
 war, as our hunters were all gone. 
 
 Some time in August, the warriors returned, and brought in 
 with them a great many scalps, prisoners, horses and plunder ; 
 and the common report among the young warriors was, that 
 they would entirely subdue Tulhasaga, that is the Engli ' 
 or it might be literally rendered the Mwning Light iii^a^ 
 ants. ' 9t "■ 
 
 About the first of November, a numhat bf femUies were 
 
 preparing to go on their winter hunt, ancj'ml agreed to cross 
 
 the lake together. We encamped at the mouth of tlie river 
 
 the first night, and a council was held, whether we should 
 
 19* 
 
 It 
 
 i 
 
 1(11 
 
 J 
 
 ''i 
 
 ^ # 
 
 r* 
 
 
 ? 
 
k*. 
 
 f 
 
 222 
 
 '^^■' 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 W:: 
 
 cross through by the three islands, or coast it round the lake. 
 These islands lie in a line across the lake, and are just in sight 
 of each other. Some of the Wyandots, or Ottawas, frequent- 
 ly make their winter hunt on these islands ; though, except- 
 ing wild fowl and fish, there is scarcely any game here but 
 raccoons, which are amazingly plenty, and exceedingly large 
 and ftit, as they feed upon the wild rice, which grows in 
 abundance in wet places round «these islands. It is said that 
 each hunter, in one winter, will catch one thousand raccoons. 
 
 It is a received opinion among the Indians that the snakes 
 and raccoons are transmigratory, and that a great many of the 
 snakes turn raccoons every fall, and raccoons snakes every 
 spring. This notion is founded on observations made on the 
 snakes and raccoons in this island. 
 
 As the raccoons here lodge in rocks, the trappers make their 
 wooden traps at the*inouth of the holes ; and as they go daily 
 to look at their traps, in the winter season, they commonly find 
 them filled with raccoons ; but in the spring, or when the frost 
 •is out of the ground, they say, they then find their traps filled 
 with large rattlesnakes ; and therefore conclude that the rac- 
 coons are transforaied. They also say that the reason why 
 they are so remarkably plenty in the winter, is, every fall the 
 snakes turn raccoons again. '"" 
 
 ^ 
 
 p«f- 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 |L told them that though I had never landed on any of ihese 
 is^ds, yet, from the unanimoHS accounts I had received, I 
 believed that both snakes and raccoons were plenty there? but 
 no doubt they all remained there both summer and winter, 
 only the snakes were not to be seen in the latter ; yet I Aid 
 not believe that they were transmigratory. ^ * 
 
 These islands are but seldom visited ; because early in the 
 spring, and late in the fall, it is dangerous sailing in their bark 
 cano3s ; and in the summer they are so infested with varipus 
 kinds of serpents, (but chiefly tptlesnakes,) that it is danger- 
 ous l!anding. 
 
 *: I shall now quibfMiis digression, and return to the result of 
 the council at the mouth of the river. We concluded to coast 
 it round the lake, and in two days we came to the mouth of 
 the Miami of the Lake, and landed on Cedar Point, where we 
 remained several days. Here we held a council, and con- 
 cl^et we would take a driving hunt in concert and in part- 
 nersl^. .^ 
 
 The rivedin thisplace is about a mile broad, and as it and 
 the U^ forms a UK of neck, which terminates in a point, all 
 the hunters (whifli^ere fifty-three) went up the. river, and 
 We scattered ourselves from the river to the lake. When we 
 first begatii to move we were not in sight of each other, but as 
 
 Xili 
 
he lake, 
 in sight 
 requent- 
 except- 
 lere but 
 jly large 
 prows in 
 said that 
 iccoons. 
 le snakes 
 ny of the 
 es every 
 le on the 
 
 lake their 
 f go daily 
 nonly find 
 [1 the frost 
 raps filled 
 It the rac- 
 »ason why 
 ,ry fall the 
 
 y of these 
 •eceived, 1 
 there? but 
 I winter, 
 yet I Aid 
 
 arly in the 
 their bark 
 th varipus 
 is danger- 
 
 ,e result of 
 ed to coast 
 mouth of 
 where we 
 and con- 
 id in part- 
 
 as it and 
 
 a point, all 
 
 .river, and 
 
 When we 
 
 Iher, but as 
 
 % 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 223 
 
 we all raised the yell, we could move regularly together by 
 the noise. At length we came in sight of each other, and 
 appeared to be marching in good order ; before we came to 
 the point, both the squaws and boys in the canoes were scat- 
 tered up the river and along the lake, to prevent the deer from 
 making their escape by water. As we advanced near the point 
 the guns began to crack slowly, and after some time the fir- 
 ing was like a little engagement. The squaws and boys were 
 busy tomahawking the deer in the water, and we shooting 
 them down on the land. We killed in all about thirty deer^ 
 though a great many made their escape by water. 
 
 We had now great feasting and rejoicing, t^s we had plenty 
 of homony, venison and wild fowl. The geese at this time 
 appeared to be preparing to move southward. It &ight be 
 asked what is meant by the geese preparing to move. The 
 Indians represent them as holding a greatiSN^ouncil at this time 
 concerning the weather, in order to conclude upon a day, that 
 they may all at or near one time leave the northern lakes, and 
 wing their way to the Southern bays. When matters are 
 brought to a conclusion, and the time appointed that they are 
 to take wing, then they say a great number of expresses are 
 sent ofT, in order to let the different tribes know the result of 
 this council, that they may ]je all in readiness to move St the 
 time appointed. As there is a great commotion among Uj^ 
 geese at this time, it would appear by their actions that su^ 
 a council had been held. Certain it is that they are led by 
 instinct to act in concert, and to move off regularly after their 
 leaders. ♦ ;^ 
 
 * Here our company separated. The chief part of them went 
 up the Miami river, which empties into lake Erie at Cedar 
 Point, whilst we proceeded on our journey in company with 
 Tecaughretanego, Tontileaug(vand two families of the Wyan* 
 dots'. ip 
 
 As cold weather was now approaching, we began to feel 
 the doleful effects of extravagantly and foolishly spending the 
 large quantity of beaver we had taken in our last winter's 
 hunt. , We were all nearly in the same circumstances ; scalce- 
 ly one had a shirt to his back ; l^ut each of us had an old, 
 blanket, which we belted round us in the day, and slept, in at 
 night, with a deer or bear skin under us for our bed. ^ 
 
 When we came to the falls of San^jtisky, we buri^ottr 
 birch-bark canoes, as usual, at a large burying-pitoe foTthfi 
 purpose, a little below the falls. At thuMace the river faSb 
 about eight feet over a rock, but not pe^inicQlarly. Wij^ 
 much difficulty we pushed up our wooden canoes; some of*v& 
 went up the river, and the rest by land with the honesi uhtil 
 
 ■A 
 
 ■# 
 
 ^. 
 
224 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 . 
 
 T> 
 
 we came to the great meadows or prairies, that lie between 
 Sandusky and Sciota. 
 
 When we came to this place, we met with some Ottawa 
 hunters, and agreed with them tu take what they call a ring 
 hunt, in partnership. We waited until we expected rain was 
 near falling to extinguish the fire, apd then we kindled a large 
 circle in the prairie. At this time, or before the bucks began 
 to run, a great number of deer lay concealed in the grass, in 
 the day, and moved about in the night ; but as the fire burned 
 in towards the centre of the circle, the deer fled before the fire ; 
 the Indians were scattered also at some distance before tne fire, 
 and shot them down every opportunity, which was very fre- 
 quent, especially as the circle became small. When we came 
 to divide the deer, there were about ten to each hunter, which 
 were all killed in a few hours. The rain did not come on that 
 night to put out the outside circle of the fire, and as the wind 
 arose, it extended through the whole prairie, which was about 
 fifty miles in length, and in some places nearly twenty in 
 breadth. This put an end to our ring huniing this season, and 
 was in other respects an injury to us in the hunting business ; 
 80 that upon the whole we received more harm than benefit 
 by our rapid hunting frolic. We then moved from the north 
 end #f the glades, and encamped at the carrying place. 
 
 This place is in the plains, betwixt a creek that empties into 
 Sandusky and one that -^runs into Sciota. And at the time of 
 hSgh water, or in the spring season, there is but about one half 
 mile of portage, and that very level, and clea'* of rocks, timber, 
 or stones ; so that with a little diggiiig there may be water 
 carriage the whole way from Sciota to lake Erie. 
 . From the mouth of Sandusky to the falfs is chiefly first rate 
 land, lying flat or level, intermixed with large bodies of clear 
 meadows, where the grass is exceedingly rank, and in many 
 places thret or four feet higb^,, The timber is oak, hickory, 
 walnut, cherry, black ash, elm, sugar-tree, buckeye, locust and 
 
 ♦ beech. In some places there is wet timber land — the timber 
 
 in these places is chiefly water ash, sycamore, or button-wood. 
 
 From the falls to the prairies, the land lies well to the sun ; 
 
 it is neither too flat nor too hilly, and is chiefly first rate; the 
 
 'timber nearly the same asoelow the falls, excepting the water 
 ash. * There is also here some plats of beech land, that appears 
 to jb^fiacond rate, as it frequently produces spice-wood. Che 
 praim apu^ars to be a tolerably fertile soil, though in n^any 
 
 Slacffe too wet for^ultivation ; yet I apprehend it would pro- 
 uce timber, werd|P^nly kept from fire. 
 
 The Indians are of the opinion that the squirrels plant all 
 th# timbipr, as they bury a number of nuts for food, and only 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 225 
 
 between 
 
 Ottawa 
 ,11 a ring 
 rain was 
 i a large 
 ks began 
 grass, in 
 e burned 
 J the fire ; 
 e tne fire, 
 very fre- 
 we came 
 er, which 
 le on that 
 , the wind 
 was about 
 twenty in 
 sason, and 
 business ; 
 lan benefit 
 L the north 
 Lce. 
 
 npties into 
 he time of 
 t one half 
 s, timber, 
 be water 
 
 y first rate 
 les of clear 
 in many 
 ., hickory, 
 I locust and 
 the timber 
 Itlon-wood. 
 [o the sun ; 
 rate; the 
 the water 
 Lt appepi's 
 lood. Che 
 Ih in n-any 
 Iwould pro- 
 
 jls plant all 
 I, and only 
 
 one at a place. When a squirrel is killed, the various kinds 
 of nuts thus buried will grow. 
 
 I have observed that when these prairies have only escaped 
 fire for one year, near where a single tree stood there was a 
 young growth of timber supposed to be planted by the squir- 
 rels. But when the prairies were again burned, all this young 
 growth was immediately consumed ; as the fire rages in the 
 grass to such a pitch, that numbers of raccoons are thereby 
 burned to death. 
 
 On the west side of the prairie, or betwixt that and Sciota, 
 there is a large body of first rate land — the timber, walnut, lo- 
 cust, sugar-tree, buckeye, cherry, ash, elm, mulberry, plum-trees, 
 spice-wood, black haw, red haw, oak, and hickory. 
 
 About the time the bucks quit running, Tontileaugo, his wife 
 and children, Tecaughretanego, his son Nunganey and myself, 
 left the Wyandot camps at the carrying place, and crossed the 
 Sciota river at the south end of the glades, and proceeded on 
 about a south-w^est course to a large creek called Ollentangy, 
 which I believe interlocks with the waters of the Miami, and 
 empties into Sciota on the west side thereof. From the south 
 end of the prairie to Ollentangy there is a large quantity of 
 beech land, intermixed with first rate land. Here we Jjaade 
 our winter hut, and had considerable success in hunting. 
 
 After some time, one of Tontileaugo's step-sons (a lad abof^it 
 eight years of age) offended him, and he gave the boy a modf)" 
 rate whipping, which much displeased his Wyandot wife. She 
 acknowledged that the boy was guilty of a fault, but thought 
 that he ought to have been ducked, which is their usual mode, 
 of chastisement. She said she could not bear to have hsr son 
 whij.ped like a servant or slave ; and she wus so displeased, 
 that when Tontileaugo went out to h':nt, she got her two 
 horses, and all her effects, (as in this country the husband and 
 wife have separate interests,) atfd moved baclf to tRe Wyj^ndot 
 camp that we had left. 
 
 'Vhen Tontileaugo returned, he was much disturbed on 
 hearing of his wife's eloppment, and said that he would never 
 go after her, were it not that he was afraid that she would get 
 bewildered, and that his children that she had taken with her 
 might suffer. Tontileaugo went after his wife, and whenjhey' 
 met they made up the quarrel ; and believer returned, but left 
 Tecaughretanego and his son, (a boy about ten years of||gie,) 
 and myself, who remained here in our hut all winter. 
 
 Tecaughretanego had been a first-rat(ywavrior, statesman-^ 
 and hunter, and though he wa? now neaPiixty y^s of age, 
 was yet equal to the common run of hunters, but subject to 
 the rheumatism, which deprived him of the use of his legs. 
 
 S5'- 
 
 ^ 
 
226 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 m 
 
 j ^•'•- 
 
 fMi^^s^^ 
 
 Shortly after Tontileaugo left us, Tecaughretanego became 
 lame, and could scarcely walk out of our hut for two months. 
 I had considerable success in hunting and trapping. Though 
 Tecaughretanego endured much pain and misery, yet he bore 
 it all with wonderful patience, and would often endeavor to 
 entertain me with cheerful conversation. Sometimes he would 
 applaud me for my diligence, skill and activity ; and at. other 
 times he would take great care in giving me instructions con- 
 cerning the hunting and trapping business. He would also 
 tell me that if I failed of success we would suffer very much, 
 as we were about forty miles from any one living, that we knew 
 of; yet he would not intimate that he apprehended we were in 
 any danger, but still supposed that I Was fully adequate to the 
 task. 
 
 Tontileaugo left us a little before Christmas, and from that 
 until some time irt Fehruary we had always plenty of bear 
 meat, venison, &c. During this time I killed much more than 
 we could use, but having no horses to carry in what I killed, I 
 left 'part of it in the woods. In February, there came a snow, 
 with a crust, which made a great noise when walking on it, 
 and frightened away the deer ; and as bear and beaver were 
 scarce here, we got entirely out of provision. After I had 
 hunte^d tv/o days, without eating any thing, and had very short 
 aUowance for some days before, I returned late in the evening, 
 ipp faipt and weary. When I came into our hut, Tecaughretane- 
 
 fo asked what success, t told him not any. He asked me if 
 was not very hungry. I replied that the keen appetite seem- 
 ed to be in some measure removed, but I was both faint and 
 weary. He commanded Nunganey, his little son, to bring me 
 something to eat, and he brought me a kettle with some bones 
 and broth. After eating a few mouthfuls, my appetite violently 
 returned, and I thought the victuals had a most agreeable rel- 
 ish, though?«^it was only fox aniil wildcat bones, which lay about 
 the camp., which the ravens and turkey-buzzards had picked ; 
 * these Nunga lOy had collected and boiled, until the sinews that 
 remained on the bones would strip, off". I speedily finished 
 my allowance, such as it was, and when I had ended my sweet 
 .repast, Tecaughretanego Mked me how I felt. I told him that 
 Tf wasmuch refreshed. H^then handed me his pipe and pouch, 
 ,, aiK^^Rld m'fe to take a smok'S. I did so. He then said he had 
 80|||fl|hing of importance to tell me, if I was now composed 
 and ready to hear it. I told him that I was ready to hear him. 
 s He 6iiid the retsMBLwhy he deferred his speech till now v/as 
 because ft»w men we in a right humor to hear good talk when 
 they are extremely hungry, as they are then generally fretful 
 ana disccnnposed, but as you appear now to enjoy calmnesf 
 
lecame 
 lonths. 
 'hough 
 le bore 
 ivor to 
 > would 
 it. other 
 ns con- 
 ild also 
 J much, 
 re knew 
 were in 
 ,e to the 
 
 rom that 
 of bear 
 ore than 
 killed, I 
 a snow, 
 ng on it, 
 ver were 
 er I had 
 ery short 
 evening, 
 ^hretane- 
 ed me if 
 iite seem- 
 faint and 
 [bring me 
 .ie bones 
 violently 
 leable rei- 
 ilay about 
 picked; 
 ews that 
 finished 
 iny sweet 
 him that 
 id pouch, 
 id he had 
 omposed 
 ear him. 
 now v/as 
 Ik when 
 [lly fretful 
 calmnest 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 227 
 
 *¥-,- 
 
 and seienity of mind, I will now communicate to you the 
 thoughts of my heart, and those things that I know to be true. 
 
 " Brother, — As you have lived with the white people, you 
 have not had the same advantage of knowing that the great 
 Being above feeds his people, and gives them their meat in due 
 season, as we Indians have, who are frequently out of provi- 
 sions, and yet are wonderfully supplied, and that so frequently, 
 that it is evidently the hand of the greai: Owaneeyo'*'' that doth 
 this. Whereas the white people have commonly large stocks 
 of tame cattle, that they can kill when they please, and also 
 their barns and cribs filled with grain, and therefore have not 
 the same opportunity of seeing and Jcnowing that they are 
 supported by the Ruler of heaven and earth. 
 
 •' Brother, — I know that you are now afraid that we will all 
 perish with hunger, but you have no just reason to fear this. 
 
 *' Brother, — I have been young, but am now old ; I have 
 been frequently under the like circumstances that we now are, 
 and that some time or other in almost every year of my life ; 
 yet I have hitherto been supported, and my wants supplied in 
 time of need. 
 
 " Brother, — Owaneeyo sometimes suffers us to be in want, 
 in order to teach us our dependence upon him, and to ]pt us 
 know that we are to love and serve him ; and likewise to know 
 the worth of the favors that we receive, and to make us Ibore 
 thankful. , , p> S 
 
 " Brother, — Be assured that you will be supplied with fqod, 
 and that just in the right time ; but you must continue diligent 
 in the use of means. Go to sleep, and rise early in the morn- 
 ing and go a hunting ; be strong, and exert yourself like a man, 
 and the Great Spirit will direct your way." 
 
 The next morning I went out, and steered about an east 
 course. I proceeded on slowly for about five miks, and saw 
 deer frequently ; but as the ctust on the snow r^ule a great 
 noise, they were always running before I spied them, so that I ^ 
 could not get a shot. A violent appetite returned, and I be- 
 came intolerably hungry. It was now that I concluded I would 
 run off to Pennsylvania, my native country. As the snow was 
 on the ground, and In: !an hunters t^feiost the whole of the way^ 
 before me, I had but a poor prospect of making my ^i^aQ||f l»ul 
 my case appeared desperate. If I'staid here, I thought I would ■ 
 perish with hunger, and if I met with Indians they couM wit 
 kill me. ^ 
 
 I then proceeded on as fast as I cjuld w!|||||£,^nd when 1 ^t 
 
 * This is the name of Gk)d, in their tongue, and signifies the owner ^nd 
 rater of all things. ^ 
 
 il :i 
 
 iS 
 
 If 
 
 t. 
 
 « 
 
 
228 
 
 COLONEIi SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 > ■'■ 
 
 ,1^ 
 
 4 
 
 k 
 
 .;% 
 
 •■*: 
 
 >:;y: •^%, 
 
 about ten or twelve miles from our hut, I came upon fresh 
 buffalo tracks ; I pursued after, and in a short time came in 
 sight of them as they were passing through a small glade. 
 I ran with all my might and headed them, where I lay in am- 
 bush, and killed a very large cow. I immediately kindled a 
 fire and began to roast meat, but could not wait till it was done ; 
 I ate it almost raw. When hunger waa abated, I began to be 
 tenderly concerned for my old Indian brother and the little boy 
 I had left in a perishing condition. I made haste and packed 
 up what meat I could carry, secured what I left from the wolves, 
 and returned homewards. 
 
 I scarcely thought on the old man's speech while I was 
 almost distracted with hunger, but on my return was much 
 aflected with it, reflected on myself for my hard-heartedness 
 and ingratitude, in attempting to run ofT and leave the venera- 
 ble old man and little boy to perish with hunger. I also con- 
 sidered how remarkably the old man's speech had been verified 
 in our providentially obtaining a supply. I thought also of 
 .„ that part of his speech which treated of the fractious disposi- 
 tions of hungry people, which was the only excuse I had for 
 my base inhumanity, in attempting to leave them in the most 
 deplorable situation. 
 
 > 'fi As it was mopnlight, I got home to our hut, and found the 
 old man in his usual good humor. He thanked me for my 
 
 1^ eji^rtion, and bid me sit down, as I must certainly be fatigued, 
 
 and he commanded Nunganey to make haste and cook. I told 
 
 ^him I would cook for him, and let the boy lay SQpie*meat on 
 
 the coals for himself; which ho. did, but ate it almost raw, as 
 
 ^ I had done. I immediately hung on the kettle with some wa- 
 ter, and cut the beef in thin slices, and put them in. When it 
 ? had boiled a while, I proposed taking it off the fire, but the old 
 man replied, " let it be done enough." This he said in as 
 patient and unconcerned a manner as if he had not wanted 
 one single meal. He commanded Nunganey to eat no more 
 * beef at that time, lest he might hurt himself, but told him to 
 sit down, and after some tim€ he might sup some broth ; this 
 command he feluctantly obeyed. 
 ^ When we were all reffeshed, Tecaughretanego delivered a 
 ^sppech upon the necessity and pleasure of receiving the neces- 
 (lary'lupports of life with tifankfulness, knowing that 0"'anee- 
 ; y#i9. the great gi^er. Such speeches from an Indian may be 
 thought by those who are unacquainted with them altogether 
 incredible ; bu<i \^en we reflect on the Indian war, we may 
 readily cibclude that they are not an ignorant or stupid sort of 
 people, or they would not have been such fatal enemies. When 
 they came into our country ihey outwitted us ; and when we 
 
 -Ax- 
 
 ■•* 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 229 
 
 pon fresh 
 ; came in 
 ill glade, 
 ly in am- 
 kindled a 
 vas done ; 
 ;gan to be 
 I little boy 
 id packed 
 he wolves, 
 
 die I was 
 was much 
 eartedness 
 he venera- 
 I also con- 
 ;en verified 
 ght also of 
 )us disposi- 
 e I had for 
 in the most 
 
 d found the 
 me for my 
 be fatigued, 
 )ok. 1 told 
 e'meat on 
 [lost raw, as 
 |h some wa- 
 . When it 
 but the old 
 said in as 
 not wanted 
 jat no more 
 Itold him to 
 broth; this 
 
 delivered a 
 Ig the neces- 
 lat 0'"anee- 
 lian may be 
 altogether 
 pr, we may 
 tupid sort of 
 lies. When 
 id when we 
 
 sent armies into their country, they outgeneralled and beat us 
 with inferior force. Let us also take into consideration that 
 Tecaughretanego was no common person, but was among the 
 Indians as Socrates in the ancient heathen world ; and it may 
 be equal to him, if not in wisdom and in learning, yet perhaps 
 in patience and fortitude. Notwithstanding Tecaugnretanego's 
 uncommon natural abilities, yet in the sequel of this history 
 you will see the deficiency of the light of nature, unaided by 
 revelation, in this truly great man. 
 
 The next morning Tecaughretanego desired me to go back 
 and bring another load of buffalo beef. As I proceeded to do 
 so, about five miles from our hut I found a bear tree. As a 
 sapling grew near the tree, and reached near the hole that the 
 bear went in at, I got dry dozed or rotten wood, that would 
 catch and hold fire almost as well as spunk. This wood I tied 
 up in bunches, fixed them on my back, and then climbed up 
 the sapling, and with a pole I put them, touched with fire, into 
 the hole, and then came down and took my gun in my hand. 
 After some time the hsar came out, and I killed and skinned 
 it, packed up a luad of the meat, (after securing the remainder 
 from the wolves,) and returned home bbibre night. 'On my 
 return, my old brother and his ^on were much rejoiced at my 
 success. After this we had plenty of provisi(uis. 
 
 We remained here until some time in April, 1758. At this 
 time Tecaugretanego had recovered so that he could walk alx^t. ^ 
 We made a bark canoe, embarked, and went down OUentangy 
 some distance, but the water being low, we were in danger of ^ 
 splitting oiJ& canoe upon the^ rocks ; therefore Tecaughretan*" 
 ego concluded we would encamp on shore, and pray for rain. 
 
 When we encamped Tecaughretanego made himself a sweat 
 house, which he did by sticking r^. number of hoops in the 
 ground, each hoop forming a semicircle ; this he covered all 
 round with blankets and skins. He then prspared-^-hot siones, 
 which he rolled into this hut, and then went into it himself 
 with a little kettle of water in his hand, mixed with a variety 
 of herbs, which he had formerly cured, and had now with him 
 in his pack ; they afforded an odoriferous perfume. When he 
 was in, he told me to pull down the,blankets» behind him, and 
 cover all up close, which I did, and then he began .o pour 
 water upon the hot stones, and t(f^i g aloud. He continued 
 in this vehement hot place about fifteen minutes. All thiaiibe 
 did in order to purify himself before he would address the 
 Supreme Being. When he came out of his 0ive&t house, he 
 began to burn tobacco and pray. He began each petition with 
 oht ho, ho, ho, which is a kind of aspiration, and signifies an 
 aident wish. I observed that all his petitions w^re only for. 
 20 
 
 %. 
 
 '111 
 
 w 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 c'-.i't vli'':^- h V 
 
VI 
 
 # 
 
 230 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ':m 
 
 fvv. 
 
 immediate or present temporal blessings. He began his ad- 
 dress by thanksgiving in the following manner : 
 
 " O Crreat Being ! I thank thee that I have obtained the 
 use of my legs again ; that I am now able to walk about and 
 kill turkeys, &c. without feeling exquisite pain and misery. 
 I know that thou art a heJiirer and a helper, and therefore I will 
 call upon thee. 
 
 •' Oh, ho, ho, ho, 
 
 " Grant that my knees and ankles may be right well, and 
 that I may be able, not only to walk, but to run and to jump 
 logs, as I did last fall. 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, ho, . 
 
 " Grant that on this voyage we may frequently kill bears, as 
 they may be crossing the Sciota and Sandusky. 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, ho, 
 
 " <jrrant that we may kill plenty of turkeys along the banks, 
 to stew with our fat bear meat. 
 
 " Oh, ho, ho, ho, 
 .^ ** Grant that rain may pome to raise the Ollentangy about 
 two or three feet, that we may cross in safety down to Sciota, 
 without danger of our canoe being wrecked on the rocks. 
 And now, O Great Being! thou knowest how matters stand; 
 thou knowest that I am a great lover of tobacco, and though I 
 know not when I may get any more, I now make a present of 
 th(| last I have unto thee, as a free burnt offering ; therefore I 
 expect thou wilt hear and grant these requests, and I, thy ser- 
 vant, will return thee thanks, and love thee for thy gifts." 
 
 During the whole of this scene I eat by Tecaughretanego, 
 and as he went through it with the greatest solemnity, I was 
 seriously affected with his prayers. I remained duly com- 
 
 Eosed until he came to the burning of the tobacco ; and as I 
 new that he was a great lover of it, and saw him cast the last 
 of it into the fire, it excited in me a kind of merriment, and 
 I insensibly smiled. Tecmghretanego observed me laughing, 
 which displ^fised him, and occasioned him to address me in 
 the following manner. 
 
 " Brother : l have somewhat to say to you, and I hope you 
 will not be offended when I tell you of your faults. You 
 know that when you were reading your books in town I would 
 not lit the boys or any one disturb you ; but now, when I was 
 pra^ng, I saw you laughing. I do not think that you look 
 "upon praying as a foolish thing ; I believe you pray yourself. 
 But perhaps y^ may think my mode or manner of praying 
 foolish ; vl so, ^u ought in a friendly manner to instruct me, 
 and not make sport of sacred things." 
 I acknowledged my error, and on this he handed me his 
 
 '"^' 
 
t^ 
 
 ♦»- 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 231 
 
 his ad- 
 
 led the 
 lOut and 
 misery, 
 re I will 
 
 irell, and 
 to jump 
 
 bears, as 
 
 he banks, 
 
 igy about 
 to Sciota, 
 he rocks. 
 Bts stand; 
 
 though I 
 Ipresent of 
 
 lerefore I 
 thy ser- 
 
 'ts. 
 
 » 
 
 iretanego, 
 ity, I was 
 uly com- 
 and as I 
 St the last 
 ment, and 
 laughing, 
 ess me in 
 
 hope you 
 ilts. You 
 rn I would 
 hen I was 
 you look 
 r yourself. 
 >f praying 
 struct me, 
 
 >d me his 
 
 pipe to smoke, in token of friendship and reconciliation, though 
 at this time he had nothing to -noke but red willow bark. I 
 told him something of the method of reconciliation with an 
 ofiended God. as revealed in my Bible, which I had then in -v 
 possession. He said that he liked my story better than that 
 of the French priests, but he thought tnat he was now too old 
 to begin to learn a new religion, therefore he should continue ^o; 
 
 to worship God in the way that he had been taught, and that 
 if salvation or future happiness was to be had in his way of 
 worship, he expected he would obtain it, and if it was incon- 
 sistent with the honor of the Great Spirit to accept of him in 
 his own way of worship, he hoped that Owaneeyo would , 
 accept of him in the way I had mentioned, or in some other ■% 
 
 way, though he might now be ignorant of the channel through ^ 
 which favor or mercy might be conveyed. He said that he '• 
 believed that Owaneeyo would hear and help every one- that 
 sincerely waited upon him. 
 
 Here we may see how far the light of nature could go ; per- 
 haps we see it hrre almost in its highest extent. Notwith- 
 standing the just views that this great man entertained otB^- .-.■,■ 
 Providence, yet we now see him (though he acknowledged his , , 
 guilt) expecting to appease the Deity, and procure his favor, 
 by burning a little tobacco. We may observe that all heathen 
 nations^ as far as we can find out either by tradition or the 
 light of nature, agree with revelation in this, that sacrifice is^^, 
 necessary, or that some kind of atonement is to be made in 
 order to remove guilt and reconcile them to God. ThiS| 
 accompanied with numberless other witnesses, is sufficient '* 
 evidence of the rationality of the truth of the Scriptures. 
 
 A few days after Tecaughretanego had gone through his 
 ceremonies and finished his prayers, the rain came and raised 
 the creek a sufficient height, so that we passed in safety down^ijii; 
 to Sciota, and proceeded up to the carrying place. Let us 
 now describe the land on chis route from our winter hut, and 
 down Ollentangy to the Sciota, and up it to the cfjrrying place. 
 
 About our winter cabin is chiefly first and second rate land. 
 A considerable way up Ollentangy, on the south-west side 
 thereof, or betwixt it and the Miami, there is a very Urge .^ 
 
 prairie, and from this prairie down Ollentangy to Sciota iitl. 
 generally first rate land. The timber is walnut, sugaS^tree^ 
 ash, buckeye, locust, wild cherry, and spice-wood, intermixed 
 with some oak and beech. From the mouth of Ollentangy, 
 on the east side of Sciota, up to the carryingKplace, there is a 
 large body of first and second rate land, and tolirably well 
 watered. The timber is ash, sugai'-tree, walnut, locust, oak, 
 and beech. Up near the carrying place the land is a little 
 
 4^' 
 
 «,• 
 
232 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 hilly, but the soil good. We proceeded from this place down 
 Sandusky, and in our passage we killed four bears and a 
 number of turkeys. Tecaughretanego appeared now fully 
 persuaded that all this came in answer to his prayers, and who 
 can say with any degree of certainty that it was not so ? 
 
 When we came to the little lake at the mouth of Sandusky, 
 we called at a Wyandot town that was then there, called 
 Sunyendeand. Here we diverted ourselves several days by 
 catching rock fish in a small creek, the name of which is also 
 Sunyendeand, which signifies rock fish. They fished in the 
 night with lights, and struck the fish with gigs or spears. The 
 rock fish here, when they begin first to run up the creek to 
 spawn, are exceedingly fat, sufficiently so to fry themselves. 
 The first night we scarcely caught fish enough for present 
 use for all that was in the town. 
 
 The next morning I met with a prisoner at this place by 
 the name of Thompson, who had been taken from Virginia?. 
 He told me, if the Indians would only omit disturbing the fish 
 for one night, he could catch more fish than the whole town 
 could make use of. I told Mr. Thompson that if he was cer- 
 tain he could do this, that I would use my influence with the 
 Indians to let the fish alone for one night. I applied to the 
 chiefs, who agreed to my proposal, and said they were anxious 
 to see what the Great Knife (as they called the Virginian) 
 could do. Mr. Thompson, with the assistance of some other 
 prisoners, set to work, and made a hoop-net of elm bark ; they 
 then cut down a tree across the creek, and stuck in stakes at 
 the lower side of it to prevent the fish from passing up, leaving 
 only a gap at the one side of the creek ; here he sat with his 
 net, and when he felt the fish touch the net he drew it ttp, and 
 frequently would haul out two or three rock fish that would 
 weigh about five or six pounds each. He continued at this 
 Until he had hauled out about a wagon load, and then left the 
 gap open in order to let them pass up, for they could not go 
 far on account of the shallow water. Before day Mr. Thomp- 
 son shut it up, to prevent them from passing down, in order to 
 let the Indians have some diversion in killing them in daylight. 
 
 When the news of the fish came to town, the Indians all 
 colle^ed, and with surprise beheld the large heap of fish, and 
 applsraded the ingenuity of the Virginian. When they saw 
 the number of thena that were confined in the water above the 
 tree, the young Indians ran back to the town, and in a rjhort 
 Ip^d fbturned with their spears, gigs, bows and arrows &c., 
 laid were the chief part of that day engaged in killin// rock 
 fish, insomuch that we had more than we could use jr pre- 
 serve. As we had no salt, or any way to keep them, they lay 
 
'"V^ 
 
 jb 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 233 
 
 e down 
 I and a 
 w fully 
 ind who 
 »? 
 
 ndusky, 
 }, called 
 days by 
 h is also 
 d in the 
 rs. The 
 creek to 
 jmselves. 
 f present 
 
 place by 
 Virginia, 
 g the fish 
 lole town 
 J was cer- 
 3 with the 
 ied to the 
 re anxious 
 Virginian) 
 ome other 
 ark; they 
 I slakes at 
 ip, leaving 
 it with his 
 it «p, and 
 [hat would 
 id at this 
 n left the 
 lid not go 
 J. Thomp- 
 [n order to 
 daylight, 
 ndians all 
 |f fish, and 
 they saw 
 above the 
 in a fjhort 
 rows &Cm 
 fllin'/ rock 
 ise it pre- 
 , they lay 
 
 upon the banks, and after some time great numbers of turkey- 
 buzzards and eagles collected together and devoured them. 
 
 Shortly after this we left Sunyendeand, and in three days 
 arrived at Detroit, where wo remained this summer. 
 
 Some time in May we heard that General Forbes, with 
 seven thousand men, was preparing to carry on a campaign 
 against fort Du Quesne, which then stood near where fort 
 Pitt was afterwards erected. Upon receiving this news, a 
 number of runners were sent ofT by the French commander at 
 Detroit to urge the different tribes of Indian warriors to repair 
 to fort Du Quesne. 
 
 Some time in July, 1758, the Ottawas, Jibewas, Potowato- 
 mies, and Wyandots, rendezvoused at Detroit, and marched off 
 to fort Du Quesne, to prepare for the encounter of General 
 Forbes. The common report was that they would serve him 
 as they did General Braddock, and obtain much plunder. 
 From this time until fall, we had frequent accounts of Forbes's 
 army, by Indian runners that were sent out to watch their 
 motion. They espied them frequently from the mountains 
 ever after they left fort Loudon. Notwithstanding their vigi- 
 lance, Golonr * Grant, with his Highlanders, stole a march upon 
 them, and in ihe night took possession of a hill about eighty 
 rods from fort Du Quesne ; this hill is on that account called 
 Grant's Hill to this day. The French and Indians knew not 
 that Grant and his men were there, until they beat the drum ^^ 
 and pla.yed upon the bagpipes just at daylight. They then 
 flew to arms, and the Indians ran up under cover of the banks 
 of Alleghany and Monongahela for some distance, and then 
 sallied out from the banks of the rivers, and took possession of 
 the hill* above Grant ; and as he was on the point of it, in sight 
 of the fort, they immediately surrounded him, and as he had 
 his Highlanders i^ ranks, and in very close order, and the 
 Indians scattered and concealed behind trees, they defeated 
 him with the loss only of a few warriors ; most of the High- 
 landers were killed or taken prisoners. ' 
 
 After this defeat the Indians held a council, but were divided 
 in their opinions. Some said that General Forbes woulcPnow 
 turn back, and go home the way that he came, as Dunbar had ^ 
 done when General Braddock was defeated; others supniDSiBd 
 he would come on. The French urged the Indians t^tay 
 and see the event; but as it was hard for the Indians to be^riSt; 
 absent from their squaws and children at this season of the* * ' 
 year, a great many of them returned home to their huj^tin^ 
 After this, the lemainder of the Indians, some French regulaiir;^,, 
 and a number of Canadians, marched off in quest of Genera^*' 
 Forbes. They met his army near fort Ligoneer, and attacked 
 
 20* 
 
 I 
 
 ■\- 
 
 -4 
 
 <^'- 
 
 # 
 
'4 
 
 234 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 I 
 
 
 them, but were frustrated in their design. They said that 
 Forbes's men were beginning to learn the art of war, and that 
 there w^erc a great number of American riflemen along with 
 the red'coats, who scattered out, took tree.s, and were good 
 marksmen ; therefore they found they could not accomplish 
 their design, and were obliged to retreat. When they returned 
 from the battle to fort Du Quesne, the Indians concluded that 
 they would go to their hunting. The French endeavored to 
 persuade them to stay and try another battle. The Indians 
 said if it was only the red'Coats they had to do with, they 
 could soon subdue them, but they could not withstand Asha- 
 lecoa, or the Great Knife, which was the name they gave the 
 Virginians. They then returned home to their hunting, and 
 the French evacuated the fort, which General Forbes came 
 and took possession of, without further opposition, late in the 
 year 1768, and at this time began to build fort Pitt. 
 
 When Tecaughretanego had heard the particulars of Grant's 
 defeat, he said that he could not well account for his contra- 
 dictory and inconsistent conduct. He said, as the art of war 
 consists in ambushing ^nd surprising our enemies, and in 
 preventing them from ambushing and surprising us, Grant, in 
 the first place, acted like a wise and experienced warrior in 
 artfully approaching in the night without being discovered; 
 I it when he came to the place, and the Indians were lying 
 asleep outside of the fort, between him and the Alleghany 
 river, in place of slipping up quietly, and failing upon them 
 with their broadswords, they beat the drums and played upon 
 the bagpipes. He said he could account for this inconsistent 
 conduct no other way than by supposing that he had made too 
 free with spirituous liquors dui^ng the night, and became 
 intoxicated about daylight. But to return. 
 
 This year we hunted up Sandusky and down Sciota, and 
 ilook nearly the same route that we ha J done the last hunting 
 season. -^We had considerable success, and returned to Detroit 
 
 . «ome time in April, 1759. 
 
 • ' Shortly after this, Tecaughretanego, his son Nungany and 
 my^lf, went from Detroit (in an elm-bark can >e) to Caughne- 
 
 ^waga, a very ancient Indian town, about nine miles above 
 Iffontreal, where I remained until about the first of July. I 
 then heard of a French ship at Montreal that had English 
 prisoners on board, in order to carry them over sea and ex- 
 change them. I went privately off from the Indians, and got 
 dfeo j^n board ; but as General Wolfe had stopped the river St. 
 
 iliiA^ence we were all sent to prison in Montreal, where I 
 iremained four ir-inths. Some time in November we were all 
 sent off from this place to Grown Point, and exchanged. 
 
 *^ 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 ^36 
 
 said that 
 and that 
 long with 
 'ero good 
 :complish 
 r returned 
 uded that 
 •avored to 
 le Indians 
 with, thoy 
 and AshC' 
 f gave the 
 nting, and 
 rbes came 
 late in the 
 
 1 of Grant's 
 his contra- 
 art of war 
 ,es, and in 
 3, Grant, in 
 warrior in 
 discovered ; 
 were lying 
 Alleghany 
 upon them 
 flayed upon 
 inconsistent 
 ,d made too 
 ,nd became 
 
 Sciota, and 
 last hunting 
 to Detroit 
 
 -ingany and 
 lo Caughne- 
 milcs above 
 
 of July. I 
 lad English 
 ^ea and ex- 
 
 ms, and got 
 Jthe river St. 
 lal, where I 
 ]we were all 
 iged. 
 
 Early in the year 1760, 1 came home to Gonococheague, and 
 found that my people could never ascertain whether I was 
 killed or taken until my return. They received me with great 
 joy, but were surprised to see me so much like an Indian both 
 in my gait and gesture. 
 
 Upon inquiry, I found that my sweetheart was married a 
 few days before I arrived. My feelings 1 must leave on this 
 occasion for those of my readers to judge who have felt the 
 pangs of disappointed love, as it is impossible now for me to 
 describe the emotion of soul I felt at that time. 
 
 Now there was peace with the Indians, which lasted until 
 the year 1763. Some time in May, this year, I married, and 
 about that time the Indians again commenced hostilities, and 
 were busily engaged in ki ling and scalping the frontier inha- 
 bitants in various parts ot Pennsylvania. The whole Cono- 
 cocheague valley, from the North to the South Mountain, had 
 been almost entirely evacuated during Braddock's war. This 
 state was then a Quaker government, and at the first of this 
 war the frontiers received no assistance from the state. As 
 the people were now beginning to live at' home again, they 
 thought it hard to be drove away a second time, and were 
 determined, if possible, to make a stand ; therefore they raised 
 as much money by collections and subscriptions as would pay 
 a company of riflemen for several months. The subscribers 
 met, and elected a committee to manage the business. The 
 committee appointed me captain of this company of rangers, 
 and gave me the appointment of my subalterns. I chose two 
 of the most active young men that I could find, who had also 
 been long in captivity with the Indians. As we enlisted our 
 men, we dressed them uniformly in the Indian manner, with 
 breech-clouts, leggins, moccasins, and green shrouds, which" 
 we wore in the same manner that the Indians do, and nearly 
 as the Highlanders wear their plaids. In place of hats vm 
 wore red handkerchiefs, and painted our faces red and black 
 like Indian warriors. I taught them the Indian disciplioe, as 
 I knew of no other at that time, which would answer the 
 purpose much better than British. We succeeded biyond 
 expectation in defending the frontiers, and were extolled bv .^ 
 our employers! Near the conclusion of this expedition r 
 accepted of an ensign's commission in the regular service, 
 under King George, in what was then called the Pennsjit^nia 
 line. Upon my resignation, my lieutenant succeeded lai^ > itt 
 command the rest of the time they were to serve, la ^%j^ 
 fall (the same year) I went on the Susquehanna campaigB^. 
 against the Indians, under the command of General Armstrongs 
 la this route we burnt the Delaware and Monsey towns, on 
 
 111 
 
 I 
 
 *i 
 
 m 
 
 .it-;.i 
 
 '■m- 
 % 
 
 i^ 
 
[ 
 
 
 ■■■"#: 
 
 ^W~ 
 
 236 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 the west branch of the Susquehanna, and destroyed all their 
 com. 
 
 In the year 1764 I received a lieutenant's commission, and 
 went out on General Bouquet's campaign against the Indians 
 on the MuskiAgum. Here we brought them to terms, and 
 promised to be at peace with them, upon condition that they 
 would give up all our people that they had then in captivity 
 among them. They then delivered unto us three hundred of 
 the prisoners, and said that they could not collect them all at 
 this time, as it was now late in the year, and they were far 
 scattered ; but they promised that they would bring them all 
 into fort Pitt early next spring, and as security that they 
 would do this, they delivered to us six of their chiefs as hos- 
 tages. Upon this we settled a cessation of arms for six months, 
 and promised, tipon their fulfilling the aforesaid condition, .to 
 make with them a permanent peac&i 
 
 A little below fort Pitt the hostages all made their escape. 
 Shortly after this the Indians stole horses and killed some peo- 
 ple on the frontiers. The king's proclamation was then circu- 
 lating and set up in- various public places, prohibiting any per- 
 son from trading with the Indians until further orders. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, about the first of March, 1765, a 
 number of wagons^ loaded with Indian goods and warlike 
 stores, weref sent from Philadelphia to Henry Pollens, Gono- 
 cocheague, and from thence seventy pack horses were loaded 
 with these goods, in order to carry them to fort Pitt. This 
 alarmed the country, and Mr. William Dufiield raised £.bout 
 fifty armed men, and met the pack horses at the place where 
 Mercersburg now stands. Mr. Dufiield desired the employers to 
 store up their goods, and not proceed until further orders. They 
 made light of this, and went over the North |iIountain, where 
 they tlodged in a small valley cajled the Great^ove. Mr. Duf- 
 Uteldand his party followed after, andcam^to thtir lodging, and 
 again ur^d them to store up thi^ir goods ; he r&tfsoned with them 
 on the impni^priety of the proceedings, and the great danger 
 the frontier inhabitants would be exposed to, if the Indians should 
 now get a supply: he said, as it was well known that they 
 had scarcely any ammunition, and were almost naked, to supply 
 Them now would be a kind of murder, and would be illegally 
 -trading at the expense of the blood and treasure of the fron- 
 tierS.«4iw Notwithstanding his powerful reasoning, these traders 
 madHgame of what he said, and would only answer him by 
 Iiii^emus burlesque. 
 
 ;^; "Wlen I beheld this, and found that Mr. Dufiield would not 
 compel them to store up their goods, I collected ten of my old 
 warriors, diat I had formerly disciplined in the Indian way, went 
 
 % 
 ^ 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 237 
 
 '' IIP 
 
 all their 
 
 ion, and 
 I Indians 
 'ms, and 
 ihat they 
 captivity 
 indred oi 
 em all at 
 
 were far 
 
 them all 
 that they 
 fs as hos- 
 X months, 
 idition, Jto 
 
 >ir escapct 
 some peo- 
 hen circu- 
 y any per- 
 rs» 
 
 ;h! 1765, a 
 id warlike 
 ens, Cono- 
 ere loaded 
 'itt. This 
 lised cbout 
 ace where 
 iployers to 
 xs. They 
 ;ain, where 
 Mr. Duf- 
 idging, and 
 with them 
 lat danger 
 ians should 
 that they 
 , to supply 
 je illegally 
 »f the fron- 
 se traders 
 er him by 
 
 would not 
 
 I of my old 
 
 way, went 
 
 iff priv«ii»ly after night, and encamped in the woods. The 
 next day, as usual, we blacked and painted, and waylaid them 
 near Sidelong Hill. I scattered my men about forty rod along 
 the side of the road, and ordered every two to take a tree, and 
 about eight or ten rod between each couple, with orders to 
 keep a reserve fire, one not to fire until his comrade had loaded 
 his gun ; by this means we kept up a constant, slow fire upon 
 them, from front to rear. We then heard nothing of these tra- 
 ders' merriment or burlesque. When they saw their pack- 
 horses falling close by them, they called ont, pray, gentlemen^ 
 what would you have us to do ? Thejreply vas, collect all your 
 loads to the front', and utdoad them in one place ; take your 
 private property, and immediately retire. When they were 
 gone, we burnt what they left, which consisted of blankets, 
 shirts, Vermillion, lead beads, wampum, tomahawks, scalping- 
 knives, &c. 
 
 The traders went back to fort Loudon, and applied to the 
 commanding officer there, and got a party of Highland soldiers, 
 and went with them in quest of the robbers, as they called us; 
 and without applying to a magistrate, or obtaining any civil 
 authority, but' bpirely. upon suspicion, they took a number of 
 creditable persons prisoners, (who were chiefly not any way 
 concerned in this action,) and confined jlhem in the guard- 
 house in fort Loi\(don. I then raised three hundred rillemen, 
 marched - to fort Loudon, and encamped on a hill in sight of 
 the fort. W^e were not long there, until we had more than 
 double as many of the British troops prisoners in our camp 
 as they had of our people in the guard-house. Captain Grant, 
 a Highland ofTcer, who comn]|anded fort Loudon, then sent a 
 flag of truce to our camp, where we settled a cartel, and gave 
 them above two for one, which enabled us to redeem all our 
 men from the guard-house, witlVouf further difficulty. 
 
 After this, Captain Grantl^cept a number of rifle guns whicb|{|^f^ 
 the Highlanders ^ad taken from tjie country people, an4 refused ^ "^ 
 to" give them up. As he was riding out one day, \jre took him 
 prisoner, and detained him 'until he delivered up the arms ; ;. ^ 
 we also destroyed a large quantity of gunpowder that the tra- ^ " 
 ders had stored up, lest it might be conveyed privately to the ' 
 Indians. The king's troops, and our party iad now got entirely * 
 out of the channel of the civil law, and many unjustifiable 
 things were done by both parties. This convinced me ^tAiore 
 than ever I had been before of the absolute necessity of|$he 
 civil law in order to govern mankind. j^ 
 
 About this time the following song was composed KyiM!r* 
 George Campbell, (an Irish gentleman, who had been edt|p 
 
 1 :i 
 
 '%.,#; 
 
 % 
 
 ■V * • 
 
 i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ii 
 
 \ 
 
 ,^j; 
 
 
 
 *• " 
 
i 
 
 238 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 
 cated in Dublin,) and was frequently sung to the tune of tlie 
 Black Joke. 
 
 Ye patriot souls, who love to sing. 
 Who serve your countiy and your king, 
 ... * In wealth, peace and royal estate j 
 
 Attention give whilst I rehearse 
 A modem fact in jingling verse, 
 How party interest strove what it could 
 To profit itself by public blood. 
 But justly met its merited fate. 
 
 Let all those Indian traders claim 
 Their just reward, inglorious fame. 
 
 For vile, base and treacherous ends. 
 To Pollens, in the spring, they sent 
 ■■ Much warlike stores, with an intent 
 
 To carry them to our barbarous foes, ^ 
 
 Expecting that nobody dare oppose, 
 
 A present to their Indian friends. 
 
 Astonish'd at the wild design. 
 Frontier inhabitants combin'd 
 
 With brave souls to stop their cajreer , - 
 Although some men apostatiz'd, 
 Who first the grand attempt advis'd, ^ 
 
 ^ . The bold frontiei-s they bravely stood, 
 
 To act for their king and their country's good, 
 
 In joint league, and strangers to fear. 
 
 ->;>'■•* On March the fifth, in sixty-five. 
 The Indian presents did arrive. 
 
 In long pomp and cavalcade, 
 Near Sidelong Hill, where in disguise 
 Some patriots did their train surprise. 
 And quick as lightning tumbled their loads. 
 And kindled them bonfires in the woods, 
 
 And mostly burnt their whole brigade. 
 
 5^. 
 
 
 
 «**■ 
 
 ,^% 
 
 
 ■•»f. 
 
 '% 
 
 At Loudon when they heard the news,' 
 They scarcely knew which way to choose, 
 
 For blind rage and discontent ; 
 At length some soldiers ihey sent out. 
 With guides for^o conduct the route, 
 And seized some men that were trav'ling there, 
 And hurried them into Loudon, where 
 
 They laid them fast with one consent. 
 
 But men of resolution thought 
 
 Too much to see their neighbors caught 
 
 For no crime but false surmise : 
 Forthwith they join'd a warlike band. 
 And march'd to Loudon out of hand, 
 And kept the jailers pns'ners there, 
 Until our friends enlarged were, 
 
 Without fraud or any disguise. 
 
 
 ?t 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTUKES. 
 
 239 
 
 of the 
 
 Let mankind censure or commend 
 This rash performance in the end^ 
 
 Then both sides will find their account. 
 'Tis true no law can justify *f^. '' 
 
 To bum our neighbor's property, . ''<S^-.^;'k,, .... 
 
 But when this prop.irty is design'd f .^ifiH^ " 
 
 To serve the enemies of mankind, '■..... 
 
 It's high treason in the amount. 
 
 After this, we kept up a guard of men on the frontiers, for 
 several months, to prevent supplies being sent to the Indians, 
 until it was proclaimed that Sir William Johnson had made 
 peace with them, and then we let the traders pass unmolested. 
 
 In the year 1766, I heard that Sir Williswn Johnson, the 
 king's agent for settling affairs with the Indians, had purchased 
 from them all the land west of the Appalachian Mountains that 
 lay between the Ohio and Cherokee river ; and as I knew by 
 conversing with the Indians in their own tongue that there 
 was a large body of rich land there, I concluded I Would take 
 a tour wect «>^'' and explore that country. 
 
 I set oui ' the last of June, 1766, and went in the first 
 place to H ' . ui river, and from thence I travelled westward 
 in company with Joshua Horton, Uriah Stone, William Baker 
 and James Smith, who came from near Carlisle. There were 
 only four white men of us, and a mulatto slave about eigh- 
 teen years of age, that Mr. Horton had with him. We ex- 
 plored the country south of Kentucky, and there was no more 
 sign of white men there then than there is now west of the 
 head waters of the Missouri. We also explored Cumberland 
 and Tennessee rivers, from Stone's'*'' river down to the Ohio. 
 
 When we came to the mouth of Tennessee, my fellow- 
 travellers concluded that they would proceed on to the Illinois, 
 and see some more of the land to the west ; this I would not . 
 
 agree to. As I had already beeil longer from home than what^^i^|it.; 
 I expected, I thought my wife would be distressed, and think I / i 
 was killed by the Indians ; therefore I concluded that I would i , 
 return home. I sent my horse with my fellow-travellers to v ;^* 
 the Illinois, as it was difficult to take a horse through the ; =^ 
 mountains. My comrades gave me the greatest part of tl)A 4 
 ammunition they then had, which amounted only to half a pound 4*^ ' 
 of powder, and lead equivalent. Mr. Horton also lent me his . 
 mulatto boy, and I then set off through the wilderness for Caro- 
 lina. • %' 
 
 * Stone's river is a south branch of Cumberland, and empties j|to it 
 above Nashville. We first gave it this name m our journal, in May. ]^67, 
 after one of my fellow-travellers, Mr. Uriah Stone, and I am told that ^ii 
 rataiiui the same name unto this day. 
 
 "M^ 
 
 «i 
 
 «•• 
 
 \\ '% 
 
 A 
 
 m 
 
 
 
/ajB' 
 
 J-' 
 
 X 
 
 '^ 
 
 % 
 
 I 
 
 .«:<- 
 
 mo 
 
 .n 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 About eight days after I left my company at the mouth of 
 Tennessee, on my journey eastward, I got a cane stab in my 
 foot, which occasioned my leg to swell, and I suflTered much 
 
 Eain. I w ^oyf in a doIefui situation ; far from any of the 
 uman spe ^ excepting black Jamie, or the savages, and I knew 
 not when .ight meet with them. My case appeared despe- 
 rate, and I .nought something must be done. All the surgical 
 instruments I had was a knife, a moccasin awl, and a pair of 
 bullet-moulds ; with these I deteiminod to draw the snag from 
 my foot, if possible. I stuck the awl in the skin, and with 
 the knife I cut the flesh away from around the cane, and then 
 I commanded the mulatto fellow to catch it with the bullet- 
 Ihoulds, and pull it out, which he did. When I saw it, it 
 seemed a shocking thing to be in any person's foot ; it will there- 
 fore be ;-'upposed that I was very glad to have it out. The 
 black fellow attended upon me, and obeyed my directions faith- 
 fully. I ordered him to search for Indian medicine, and told 
 him to get me a quantity of bark from the root of a lynn tree, 
 which I made him beat on a stone, with a tomahawk, and 
 boil it in a kettle, and with the ooze I bathed my foot and leg ; 
 what remained when I had finished bathing I boiled to a jelly 
 lind made poultices thereof. As I had no rags, I made use of 
 the green moss that grows upon logs, and wrapped it round with 
 elni bark ; by this means, (simple as it may seem,) the swell- 
 ing and inflammation in a great measure abated. As stormy 
 weather appeared, I ordered Jamie to make us a shelter, which 
 he did by erecting forks and poles, and covering them over 
 with cane tops, like a fodder house. It was about one hun- 
 dred yards from a large buffalo road. As we were almost out 
 of provision, t commanded Jamie to take my gun, and I went 
 along as well as I could, concealed myself near the road, and 
 killed a buffalo. When this was done, we jerked* the lean, 
 %and fried the tallow out of the fat meat, which we kept to stew 
 with our jerk as we needed it. 
 While I lay at this place, all the books I had to read was a 
 
 fsalm-book and Watts upon Prayer. Whilst in this situation, 
 composed the following verses, which I then frequently sung. 
 
 m. 
 
 4i 
 
 ^ 
 
 •iti> 
 
 J*. 
 
 ?Ps 
 
 Six weeks I've in this desert been, 
 
 With one malatto lad : 
 Excepting this poor stupid slave, 
 
 No company I had. 
 
 :■"*.*' 
 
 *|erk is a name well known by the hunters and frontier inhabitants 
 fat tteat cnt in small pieces and laid on a scaffold, over a slow fa», 
 whereby it is roasted until it is thoroughly dry. 
 
 • « 
 
 »r 
 
 
 m 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 241 
 
 )uth of 
 in my 
 1 mucn 
 ^ of the 
 i I knew 
 1 despe- 
 surgical 
 pair of 
 lag from 
 md with 
 ind then 
 B bullet- 
 aw it, it 
 ill there- 
 It. The 
 3ns faith- 
 and told 
 ynn tree, 
 awk, and 
 and leg ; 
 to a jelly 
 ide use of 
 3und with 
 the swell- 
 .s stormy 
 ter, which 
 „iem over 
 one hun- 
 ilmost out 
 A I went 
 road, and 
 the lean, 
 [pt to stew 
 
 >ad was a 
 
 situation, 
 
 Intly sung. 
 
 I inhabitants 
 la slowfi»i 
 
 In solitude I here remain, 
 
 A cripple veij sore, 
 No friend or neighbor to be found, 
 
 My case for to deplore. 
 
 I'm far from home, far from the wife 
 
 Which in my bosom lay, 
 Far from the children dear, which used 
 
 Around me for to play. 
 
 This doleful circumstance cannot 
 
 My happiness prevent. 
 While peace of conscience I enjoy, 
 
 Great comfort and content. 
 
 I continued in this place until I could walk slowly, without 
 crutches. As I now lay ne'ir a great buffalo road, I was 
 afraid that the Indians might be passing that way, and discover 
 my fire-place, therefore I moved off some distance, where I 
 remained until I killed an elk. As my foot was yet sore, I 
 concluded that I would stay here until it was healed, lest by 
 travelliiig too soon it might again be inflamed. 
 
 In a few weeks after I proceeded on, and in October I 
 arrived in Carolina. I had now been eleven months in the 
 wilderness, and during this time I neither saw bread, money, 
 women, nor spirituous liquors ; and three months of which I 
 saw none of the human species, except Jamie. 
 
 When I came into the settlement, my clothes were almost 
 worn out, and the boy had nothing on him that ever was spun. 
 He had buckskin leggins, moccasins, and breech-clout ; a bear- 
 skin dressed with the hair on, which he belted about him, and 
 a racccon-skin cap. I had not travelled far after I came in 
 before I yvas strictly examined by the inhabitants. I told them 
 the truth, and where I came from, &c.; but my story appeared 
 so strange to them that they did not believe me. They said 
 that they had never heard of any one coming through the 
 mountains from the mouth of Tennessee, and if any one would 
 undertake such a journey, surely no man would lend him his 
 slave. They said that they thought that all 1 had told them -f^'-j 
 were lies, and on suspicion they look me into custody, and ^^tw ' 
 a guard over me. -^^ 
 
 While I was confined here, I met with a reputable old 'vf} 
 acquaintance, who voluntarily became my voucher, and also 
 told me of a number of my acquaintances that i^w lived*near 
 this place, who had moved from Pennsylvania; qi|^ thi^ 
 being made public I was liberated. went to a magistrate and 
 obtained a pass, and one of my old acquaintances made me avj 
 present of « '^hirt. I then cast away my old rags ; >(n^all tt^- 
 
 21 
 
 ^:t^ 
 
 m.. 
 
 m 
 
 ■i 
 
 m 
 
 m >* 
 

 242 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 •so 
 
 
 clothes I now had was an old beaver hat, buckskin leggins, moc- 
 casins, and a new shirt ; also an old blanket, which I com- 
 monly carried on my back in good weather. Being thus 
 ev^uipped, I marched on with my white shirt loose, and Jamie 
 with his bear-skin about him ; myself appearing v.hite, and 
 Jamie very blach. ^rmed the dogs wherever we came, so that 
 they barked vioK v. The people frequently came out and 
 asked me where v/e came from, &c. I told them the truth, but 
 they for the most part suspected my story, and I generally 
 had to show them my pass. In this way I came on to fort 
 Chisselt where I left Jamie at Mr. Horion's negro quarter, 
 according to promise. I went from thence to Mr. George 
 Adams's, on Reed Creek, where I had lodged, and where I 
 had left my clothes as I was going out from home. When I 
 dressed myself in good clothes, and mounted on horseback, no 
 mar ever ".sked me for a pass ; therefore I concluded that a 
 horse-ihief, or oven a robber, might pass without interruption, 
 provided he was only well dressed, whereas the shabby villian 
 would be immediately detected. 
 
 I returned home to .Conococheegue in the fall of 1767. 
 When I arrived, I found that my wife and friends had despair- 
 ed of ever seeing me again, as they had heard that I was killed 
 by the Indians, and my horse brought into one of the Chero- 
 kee towns. 
 
 In the year 1769, the Indians again made incursions on the 
 frontiers ; yet the traders continued carrying goods and warlike 
 stores to them. The frontiers took the alarm, and a number 
 of persons collected, destroyed and plundered a quantity of 
 their powder, lead, &c., in Bedford county. Shortly after this, 
 some of these persons, with others, were apprehended and laid 
 
 ■'- in irons in the guard-house in fort Bedford, on suspicion of 
 being the^perpetrators of this crime. 
 
 ^r ' Though I did not altogether approve of the conduct of this 
 new club of black boys, yet I concluded that they should not 
 lie in irons in. the guard-house, or remain in confinement, by 
 arbitrary or military power. I resolved, therefore, if possible, 
 
 ■^ to release them, if they even should be tried by the civil law 
 
 ? ^i^fterwards. I collected eighteen of my old black boys, that I 
 
 : had seen tried in the Indian war, &c. I did not desire a large 
 
 party, lest they should be too much alarmed at Bedford, and 
 
 I accordingly prepared for us. We marched along the public 
 
 S road in daylinHit, and made no secret of our design. We told 
 
 those whom we met that we were going to take fort Bedford, 
 
 ^ which appeared to them a very unlikely story. Before this, I 
 made it known to one William Thompson, a man whom I 
 could Juist, aud who lived there. Him I employed as a spy, 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 243 
 
 , moc- 
 [ com- 
 thus 
 Jamie 
 e, and 
 50 that 
 it and 
 tth, but 
 nerally 
 to fort 
 juarter, 
 George 
 vhere I 
 ^hen I 
 back, no 
 i that a 
 •ruption, 
 y^ villian 
 
 of 1767. 
 
 despair- 
 
 ras killed 
 
 e Chero- 
 
 is on the 
 I warlike 
 
 immber 
 aniity of 
 iftey this, 
 
 and laid 
 ipicion of 
 
 ct of this 
 lould not 
 iment, by 
 possible, 
 civil law 
 ,ys, that I 
 •e a large 
 J ford, and 
 ftie public 
 ' We told 
 Bedford, 
 [ore this, I 
 ■whom I 
 as a spy, 
 
 and sent him along on horseback before, with orders to meet 
 me at a certain place near Bedford, one hour before day. The 
 next day a little before sunset, we encamped near the crossings 
 of Juniata, about fourteen miles from Bedford, and erected 
 tents, as though we intended staying all night, and not a man 
 in my company knew to the contrary, save myself. Knowing 
 that they would hear this in ^ edford, and wishing it to be the 
 case, I thought to surprise them by stealing a march. 
 
 As the moon rose about eleven o'clock, I ordered my boys 
 to march ; and we went on at the rate of five miles an hour, 
 until we met Thompson at the place appointed. He told us 
 that the commanding officer had frequently heard of us by tra- 
 vellers, and had ordered thirty men upon guard. He said they 
 knew our number, and only made game of the notion of eigh- 
 teen men coming to rescue the prisoners, but they did not 
 expect us until towards the middle of the day. I asked him 
 if the gate was open. He said it was then shut, but he ex- 
 
 Eected they would open it as usual at daylight, as they appre- 
 ended no danger. I then moved my men privately up under 
 the banks of Juniata, where we lay concealed about one hun- 
 dred yards from the fort gate. I had ordered the men to keep 
 a profound silence until we got into it. I then sent off Thomp- 
 son again to spy. At daylight he returned, and told us that 
 the gate was open, and three sentinels were standing oii the 
 wall ; that the guards were taking a morning dram, and the 
 arms standing together in one place. I then concluded to rush 
 into the fort, and told Thompson to run before me to the arms. 
 We ran with all our might, and as it was a misty morning, the 
 sentinels scarcely saw us until we were within the gate, and 
 took possession of the arms. Just as we were entering, two of 
 them discharged their guns, though I do not believe they aimed 
 at us. We then raised a shoui, which surprised the town, 
 though some of them were well pleased with tlw news. We 
 compelled a blacksmith to take the irons off the prisoners, and 
 then we left the place. This, I believe, was the first British 
 fort in America that was taken by what they called American 
 rebels. 
 
 Some time after this I took a journey westward, in order to^ 
 survey some located land I had on ana near the Youhogany. ) 
 As I passed nes^; Bedford, while I was walking and leading 
 my horse, I was overtaken by some men on horseback, like 
 travellers. One of them asked my name, and on telling it, 
 they immediately pulled out their pistols, and presented uem 
 at me, calling upon me to deliver myself, or I was a dead man. 
 I stepped back, presented my rifle, and told them to stand otT. 
 On*i of them snapped a pistol at me, and another wa^repar- 
 
 
 
 
 ^ «^ 
 
> 
 
 m 
 
 .^ 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 % 
 
 ing to shoot, when I fired my jtiece. One of them also fired 
 fiear the same time, and one of my fellow-travellers fell. The 
 Assailants then rushed tip, and as my gun was empty, they took 
 and tied me. I charged them with killing my fellow-traveller, 
 and told them he was a man that I had acciaentally met with 
 on the road, that had notliing to do with the public quarrel. 
 They asserted that I had killed him. I told them that my gun 
 blowed, or made a slow fire ; that I had her from my face be- 
 fore she went off, or I would not have missf d my mark ; and 
 from the position my piece was in when it went off, it was not 
 likely that my gun killed this man, yet I acknowledged I was 
 not certain that it was not so. They then carried me to Bed- 
 ford, laid me in irons in the guard-house, summoned a jury of 
 the opposite party, and held an inquest. The jury brought me 
 in guilty of wilful murder. As they were afraia to keep me 
 long in Bedford, for fear of a rescue, they sent me privately 
 through the wilderness to Carlisle, where I was laid in heavy 
 irons. 
 
 Shortly after I came here, we heard that a number of my old 
 black boys were coming to tear down the jail. I told the she- 
 riff that I would not be rescued, as I knew that the indictment 
 was wrong ; therefore I wished to stand my trial. As I had 
 found the black boys to be always under good command, I 
 expected I could prevail on them to return, and therefore wish- 
 ed to write to them ; to this the sheriff readily agreed. I wrote 
 a letter to them, with irons on my hands, which was immedi- 
 ately sent ; but as they had heard that I was in irons, they 
 would come on. When we heard they were near the town, 1 
 told the sheriff \ would speak to them out of the window, and 
 if the irons were off I made no doubt but I could prevail on 
 them to desist. The sheriff ordered them to be taken off, and 
 just as they were taking off my bands the black boys came 
 running up tb the jail. I went to the window and called to 
 them, and they gave attention. I told them, as my indictment 
 was for wilful mur-ler, to admit of being rescued would appear 
 dishonorable. I thank^^d them for ^their kind intentions, and 
 told them the greatest favor they could confer upon me would 
 % be to grant me this one request, to withdraw from the jail and 
 return in peace ; to this they complied, and withdrew. While 
 I waa. speaking, the irons were taken off'* my feel, and never 
 again- put on. 
 
 Before thii^arty arrived at Conococheague, they met about 
 three hundred more on the way, coming to their assistance, and 
 were resolved to take me out ; they then turned, and all came 
 together to Carlisle. The reason they gave for coming again 
 was, betfjause they thought that government was so enraged at 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 246 
 
 fired 
 The 
 
 jT took 
 rellcT, 
 t with 
 larrel. 
 
 ly gun 
 ice be* 
 :; and 
 iras not 
 1 I was 
 o Bed- 
 jury of 
 ght mc 
 eep me 
 rivately 
 \ heavy 
 
 f my old 
 
 the she- 
 
 iictment 
 
 Vs I had 
 
 imand, I 
 
 ne wish- 
 1 wrote 
 
 immedi- 
 
 >ns, they 
 town, 1 
 ow, and 
 •evail on 
 
 li off, and 
 lys came 
 
 Icalled to 
 dictment 
 id appear 
 ions, and 
 le would 
 jail and 
 While 
 [nd never 
 
 let about 
 tance, and 
 
 all came 
 ling again 
 Inraged at 
 
 me, that I would not get a fair trial. But my friends and 
 myself together again prevailed on them to return in peace. 
 
 At this time the public papers were partly filled with these 
 occurrences. The following is an extract from the Pennsylva- 
 nia Gazette, No. 2132, Nov. 2d, 1769. 
 
 *^Conococheague, October 16M, 1769. 
 
 * " Messrs. Hall & Sellefj, 
 
 " Please to give the following narrative a place in your Ga- 
 zette, and you will much oblige 
 
 " Your humble servant, 
 
 "William Smith." 
 
 "Whereas, in this Gazette of September 28th, 1769, there 
 appeared an extract of a letter from Bedford, September 12th, 
 1769, relative to James Smith, as being apprehended on sus- 
 picion of being a black boy, then killing his companion, &c., I 
 took upon myself, as bound by all the obligations of truth, jus- 
 tice to character, and to the world, to set that matter in a true 
 light ; by which I hope the impartial world will b? enabled t6 
 obtain a more just opinion of the present scheme of acting in 
 this end of the country, as also to form a true idea of the truth, 
 candor, and ingenuity of the author of the said extract, in 
 stating that matter in so partial a light. The state of the case 
 (which can be made appear by undeniable evidence) was this. 
 James Smith, (who is styled the principal ringleader of the 
 black boys, by the said author,) together with his younger 
 bri ither and brother-in-law, were going out in order to survey 
 and improve their land on the waters of Youghoghany, and as 
 the time cf their return was long, they took with them their 
 arms, and horses loaded with the necessaries of life ; and as 
 one of Smith's brothers-in-law was an artist in aprveying, he 
 had also with him the instruments for that business. Travel- 
 ling on the way, within about nine miles of Bedford, they 
 overtook and joined company with one Johnson and Moorheaa, 
 who likewise had horses *loaded, part of which loading was 
 liquor, and part seed wheat, their intentions being to make 
 improvements on their lands. When they arrived at the part- 
 ing of the road on ihis side Bedford, the company separated. 
 One part going through the town, in order to get a horse%iod, 
 were apprehended, and put under confinementJ)ut for what 
 crime they knew not*, and treated in a manner utterly incon- 
 sistent with the laws of their country and the liberties of 
 Englishmen ; whilst the other part, viz. James Smith, John- 
 son, and Moorhead, taking along the other road, were met by 
 
 21* . *^ 
 
 » i 
 
 ',^-' 
 
 *•• 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^• 
 
 ■^ 
 
 .'■^ 
 
846 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 -■:i* 
 
 ^■ 
 
 John Holmes, Esq., to whom James Smith spoke in a friendly 
 manner, but received no answer. Mr. Holmes hasted, and 
 gave an alarm in Bedford, from whence a party of men were 
 sent in pursuit of them ; but Smith and his companions not 
 having the least thought of any such measures being taken, 
 (why should they?) travelled slowly on. After they had gain- 
 ed the place where the roads joined, they delayed until the 
 other part of their company should come up. At this time a 
 number of men came riding, like men travelling ; they asked 
 Smith his name, which he told them ; on which they imme- 
 diately assaulted him as a highwayman, and with presented 
 pistols commanded him to surrender or he was a dead man ; 
 upon which Smith stepped back, asked them if they were 
 highwaymen, charging them at the same time to stand off, 
 when immediately Robert George (one of the assailants) 
 snapped a pistol at Smith's head, and that before Smith offered 
 to snoot, (which said George himself acknowledged upon oath ;) 
 whereupon Smith presented his gun at another of the assail- 
 ants, who was preparing to shoot him with his pistol. The 
 said assailant having a hold of Johnson by the arm, two shots 
 were fired, one by Smith's gun, the oilier from a pistol, so 
 quick as just to be distinguishable, and Johnson fell. After 
 which. Smith was taken and carried into Bedford, where John 
 Holmes, Esq., the informer, held an inquest on the corpse, one 
 of the assailants being as an evidence, (nor was there any other 
 troubled about the matter.) Smith was brought in guilty of 
 wilful murder, and so committed to prison. But a jealousy 
 arising in the breasts of many, that the inquest, either through 
 inadvertency, ignorance, or some other default, was not so fair 
 as it ought to be, William Deny, coroner of the county, upon 
 requisition made, thought proper to re-examine the matter, and 
 summoning a jury of unexceptionable men out of three townships 
 — men whose candor, probity, and honesty, is unquestionable 
 with all who are acquainted with them, and having raised the 
 corpse, held an inquest in a solemn manner during three days. 
 In the course of their scrutiny they found Johnson's shirt 
 blacked about the bullet-hole by the powder of the charge by 
 which he was killed, whereupon they examined into the dis- 
 tance Smith stood from Johnson when he shot, and one of the 
 assailants, being admitted to oath, swore to the respective spots 
 of ground they both stood on at that time, which the jury mea- 
 sured, and fopnd to be twenty-three feet nearly ; then, trying 
 the experiment of shooting at the same shirt, both with and 
 against the wind, and at the same distance, found no eflTects, 
 nor the least stain from the powder on the shirt. And let any 
 person that pleases make the experiment, and I will venture to 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 847 
 
 ■iendly 
 
 d, and 
 
 n were 
 
 jns not 
 taken, 
 
 d cain- 
 
 itil the 
 time a 
 
 y asked 
 
 r imme- 
 
 ■esentcd 
 
 .d man ; 
 
 jy were 
 
 land off, 
 
 sailants) 
 
 ti offered 
 
 m oath ;) 
 
 le assail- 
 
 )l. The 
 
 wo shots 
 
 jistol, so 
 
 1. After 
 
 ere John 
 
 rpse, one 
 
 \ny other 
 
 guilty of 
 jealousy 
 
 f' through 
 ot so fair 
 ity, upon 
 itter, and 
 own ships 
 •stionable 
 aised the 
 iree days. 
 >n's shirt 
 ;harge by 
 3 the dis- 
 ine of the 
 tive spots 
 |ury mea- 
 3n, trying 
 with and 
 lO effects, 
 id let any 
 enturc to 
 
 afRrm he shall find that powder will not stain at half the dia> 
 tance above mentioned, if shot out of a rifle gun, which Smith's 
 was. Upon the whole, the jury, after the most accurate exa- 
 mination and mature deliberation, brought in their verdict that 
 gome one of the assailants themselves must necessarily have 
 been the perpetrators of the murder. 
 
 ♦' I have now represented the matter in its true and genuirje 
 colors, and which I will abide by. I on) / beg liberty to make 
 a few remarks and reflections on the above-mentioned extract. 
 The author says, ' James Smith, with two others in company, 
 passed round the town, without touching,' by which it is plam 
 ne would insinuate, and make the public believe, that Smith, 
 and that part of the company, had taken some by-road, which 
 is utterly false, for it was the king's highway, and the straight- 
 est, that through Bedford being something to the one side ; nor 
 would the other part of the company have gone through the 
 town but for the reason already given. Again, the author says 
 that • four men were sent in pursuit of Smith and his com- 
 panions, who overtook them about five miles from Bedford, and 
 commanded them to surrender, on which Smith presented his 
 gun at one of the men, who was struggling with his companion, 
 fired it at him, and shot his companion through the back.' 
 Here I would just remark, again, the unfair and partial account 
 given of this matter by the author. Not a word mentioned of 
 George snapping his pistol before Smith offered to shoot, or of 
 another of the assailants actually firing his pistol, though he 
 confessed himself afterwards he had done so; not the least 
 mention of the company's baggage, which, to men in the least 
 open to a fair inquiry, would have been sufficient proof of the 
 innocence of their intentions. Must not an effusive blush 
 overspread the face of the partial representor of facts, when he 
 finds the veil he had thrown over truth thus pulled aside, and 
 she exposed to naked view? Suppose it should bife granted that 
 Smith shot the man, (which is not, and I presume never can 
 be proved to be the case,) I would only ask, was he not on his 
 own defence ' Was he not publicly assaulted ? Was he not 
 charged, at the peril of his life, to surrender, without knowing 
 for what? no warrant being shown him, or any declaration 
 made of their authority. And seeing these things are so, would 
 any judicious man, any person in the least acquainted with the 
 laws of the land, or morality, judge him guilty of wilful mur- 
 der? But I humbly presume every one who has an oppor- 
 tunity of seeing this will, by this time, be convinced that the 
 proceedings against Smith were truly unlawful and tyrannical, 
 perhaps unparalleled by any instance in a civilized nation ; — 
 lor to endeavor to kill a man in the apprehending ol him, in 
 
 m 
 
 * 
 
 i»-i; 
 t^.%. 
 
 ■'^^.!l,* 
 

 
 1 
 
 # 
 
 .-*'■: 
 
 348 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 order to bring him to trial for a fact, and that too on a suppos- 
 ed one, is undoubtedly beyond all bounds of law or govern- 
 ment. 
 
 ** If the author of the extract thinks I have treated him un- 
 fair, or that 1 have advanced any thing he can controvert, let 
 him come forward, as a fair antagonist, and make his defenre, 
 and I will, if called upon, vindicate all that I have advanced 
 against him or his abettors. 
 
 "William Smith." 
 
 I remained in prison four months, and during this time I 
 often thought of those that were confined in the time of the 
 persecution, who declared their prison was converted into a pal- 
 ace. I now learned what this meant, as I never since or before 
 experienced four months of equal happiness. 
 
 when the supreme court sat, I was severely prosecuted. 
 At the commencement of my trial the judges, in a very unjust 
 and arbitrary manner, rejected several of my evidences ; yet, 
 as Robert George (one of those who was in the afiray when I 
 was taken) swore in court that he snapped a pistol at me 
 before I shot, and a concurrence of corroborating circumstan- 
 ces amounted to strong presumptive evidence that it could 
 not possibly be m} gun that killed Johnson, the jury, without 
 hesitation, brought in their verdict, wot guilty. One of the 
 judges then declared that not one of this jury should ever hold 
 an office above a constable. Notwithstanding this proud, ill- 
 natured declaration, some of these jurymen afterwards filled 
 honorable places, and I myself was elected the next year, and 
 sat on the board"^ in Bedford county, and afterwards I served 
 in the board three years in Westmoreland county. 
 
 In the year 1774, another Indian war commenced, though 
 at this time the white people were the aggressors. The pros- 
 pect of this .terrified the frontier inhabitants, insomuch that 
 the great part on the Ohio waters either fled over the moun- 
 tains eastward or collected into forts. As the state of Penn- 
 sylvania apprehended great danger, they at this time appoint- 
 ed me captain over what was then called the Pennsylvania 
 line. As they knew I could raise men that would answer 
 their purpose, they seemed to lay aside their former inveteracy. 
 
 In the year 1776, I was appointed a major in the Pennsyl- 
 vania association. When American independence was de- 
 clared, I was elected a member of the convention in West- 
 moreland county, state of Pennsylvania, and of the Assembly, 
 as long as I proposed to serve. 
 
 * A board of commissioners was annually elected la Pennsylvania to 
 regulate taxes and lay the county levy. 
 
 ■ii/i- 
 
COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 249 
 
 suppos- 
 govern- 
 
 [lim un- 
 ivert, lei 
 defence, 
 dvanced 
 
 VIITH." 
 
 s time I 
 le of the 
 ito a pal- 
 or before 
 
 osecuted. 
 ;ry unjust 
 jces ; yet, 
 ly when I 
 tol at me 
 rcumstan- 
 t it could 
 y, without 
 [ne of the 
 
 ever hold 
 proud, ill- 
 irds filled 
 
 year, and 
 I served 
 
 jd, though 
 The pros- 
 much that 
 Lhe moun- 
 of Penn- 
 le appoint- 
 nnsylvania 
 [id answer 
 inveteracy. 
 Pennsyl- 
 was de- 
 . in West- 
 Assembly, 
 
 isylvania to 
 
 While I attended the Assembly in Philadelphia, in the year 
 1777, I saw in the street some of my old boys, on their way to 
 the Jerseys, against the British, and they desired me to ffo 
 with them ; I petitioned the house for leave of absence, in 
 order to head a scouting party, which was granted me. We 
 marched into the Jerseys, and went before General Washing- 
 ton's army, waylaid the road at Rocky Hill, attacked about 
 two hundred of the British, and with thirty-six men drove them 
 out of the woods, into a large open field. After this, we at- 
 tacked a party that were guarding the officers' baggage, and 
 took the wagon and twenty-two Hessians ; and also retook 
 some of our continental soldiers, which they had with tJ\em. 
 In a few days we killed and took more of the British than was 
 of our party. At this time I took the camp fever, and was 
 carried in a stage wagon to Burlington, where I lay unti) I 
 recovered. When I took sick, my companion. Major James 
 M'Common, took the command of the party, and had greater 
 success than I had. If every officer, and his party, that lifted 
 arms against the English, had fought with the same success 
 that Major M'Common did, we would have made short work 
 of the British war. 
 
 When I returned to Philadelphia, I applied to the Assembly 
 for leave to raise a battalion of riflemen, which they appeared 
 very willing to grant, but said they could not do it, as the 
 power of raising men and commissioning officers were at that 
 time committed to General Washington ; therefore they ad- 
 vised me to apply to his excellency. The following is a true 
 copy of a letter of recommendation which I received at this 
 time from the council of safety : 
 
 "IN COUNCIL OF SAFETY. 
 
 ^^Philadelphia, February 10th, ^'^11. 
 
 " Sir — Application has been made to us by James Smith, Esq, > // V. est- 
 moreland, a gentleman well acquainted with the Indian castom^ and 
 their manner of carrying on war, for leave to raise a battalion of marks- 
 men, expert in the use of rifles, and such as are acquainted with the 
 Indian method of fighting, to be dressed entirely in their fa:ihion, for the 
 purpose of annoying and harassing the enemy m their marches and en- 
 campments. We think two or three hundred men in ihut way might be 
 very useful. Should your excellency be of the same opinion, and direct 
 such a corps to be formed, we will take proper measures for raising the 
 men on the frontiers of this state, and follow such other directions as 
 your excellency shall give in this matter. 
 " To his Excellency, General Washington." 
 
 " The foregoing is a copy of a letter to his excellency, General 'Wash- 
 ington, from the council of safety. 
 
 '* Jacob S. Howelt., Secretary." 
 
 After this I received another letter of recommendation, which 
 is as follows ;— .» 
 
 & 
 
 1 
 
< 250 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 Uiltl 
 
 (. 
 
 
 " We, whose names are underwritten, do certify that James Smith, 
 (now of the county of Westmoreland,) was taken prisoner by the Indians 
 in an expedition before General Braddo-jli's defeat, in the year 1755, and 
 remained with them until the year 1V60 ; and also that he served as 
 ensign, in the year 1763, under the pay of the province of Pennsylvania, 
 and as lieutenant in the year 1764, ami as captain in the year 1774 ; and 
 as a military officer he has sustained a good character ; and we do recom- 
 mend him as a person well acquainted with the Indians' method of fight- 
 ing, and, in our humble opinion, exceedingly fit for the command of a 
 ranging or scouting party, which we are also humbly of opinion he could, 
 (if legally authorized,) soon raise. Given under our hands at Philadel- 
 phia, this 13th day of March, 1777. 
 
 Thomas Paxton, Capt. 
 William Duffield, £sq. 
 David Robb, Esq. 
 John Piper, Col. 
 William M'Comb, 
 William Pepper, Lt. Col. 
 James M'Lane, Esq. 
 John Proctok, Col, 
 
 Jonathan Hod^je, Esq. 
 William Parkzr, Capt. 
 Robert Elliot, 
 Joseph Armstrong, Col. 
 Robert Peebles, Lt. Col. 
 Samoel Patton, Capt. 
 WiLi-iAM Lyon, Esq." 
 
 With these and some other letters of recommendation, 
 which I have not now in my possession, I went to his excel- 
 lency, who lay at Morrislown. Though General Washington 
 did not fall in with the scheme of white men turning Indians, 
 yet he proposed giving me a major's place in a battalion of 
 riflemen already raised. I thanked the general for his proposal, 
 but as I entertained no high opinion of the colonel I was to 
 serve under, and with whom I had no prospect of getting my 
 old boys again, I thought I would be of more use in the cause 
 we were then struggling to support to remain with them as a 
 militia officer ; therefore I did not accept this offer. 
 
 In the year 1778, 1 received a colonel's commission, and 
 after my return to Westmoreland the Indians made an attack 
 upon our frontiers. I then raised men and pursued them, and 
 the second day we overtook and defeated them. We likewise 
 took four scalps, and recovered the horses and plunder which 
 they were carrying off. At the time of this attack. Captain 
 John Hinkston pursued an Indian, both their guns being empty, 
 and after the fray was over he was missing. While we were 
 inquiring about him, he came walking up, seemingly uncon- 
 cerned, with a bloody scalp in his hand ; he had pursued the 
 Indian about a quarter of a mile, and tomahawked him. 
 
 Not long after this, I was called upon to command four 
 hundred riflemen on an expedition against the Indian town on 
 French Creek. It was some time in November before I 
 received orders from General M'Intosh to march, and then we 
 were poorly equipped and scarce of provision. We marched 
 in thj^ee columns, forty rod from each other. There were also 
 
;ii^,ll'. 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'li ADVENTURES. 
 
 251 
 
 Smith, 
 imlians 
 55, and 
 •ved as 
 rlvania, 
 4; and 
 I recom- 
 jf fight- 
 Qd of a 
 le could, 
 ?hiladel- 
 
 indation, 
 is excel- 
 shington 
 
 Indians, 
 lalion of 
 proposal, 
 1 was to 
 
 ting my 
 he cause 
 
 em as a 
 
 flankers on the outside of each column, that marched ahreast 
 in the rear, in scattered order ; and even in the columns the 
 men were one rod apart ; and in the front the volunteers 
 marched abreast in the same manner of the flankers, scouring 
 the woods. In case of an attack, the officers were immedi- 
 ately to order the men to face out and take trees ; in this posi- 
 tion, the Indians could not avail themselves by surrounding us, 
 or have an opportunity of shooting a man from either side 
 of the tree. If attacked, the centre column was to reinforce 
 whatever part appeared to require it most. When we en- 
 camped, our encampment formed a hollow square, including 
 about thirty or forty acres ; on the outside of the square, there 
 were sentinels placed, whose business it was to watch for the 
 enemy, and see that neither horses nor bullocks went out ; and 
 when encamped, if any attacks were made by an enemy, each 
 officer was immediately to order the men to face out and take 
 trees, as before mentioned ; and in this form, they could not 
 take the advantage by surrounding us, as they commonly had 
 done when they fought the whites. 
 
 The following is a copy of general orders, given at this time, 
 which I have found among my journals : 
 
 "AT CAMP— OPPOSITE FORT PITT. 
 
 " November 29th, VnS. - 
 "general orders. fe 
 
 " A copy thereof is to be given to each Captain and Stibaltem, and to be read 
 
 to each Company. 
 
 " You are to march in three columns, witn flankers on the front and 
 rear, and to keep a profound silence, and not to fire a gun, except at the 
 enemy, without particular orders for that purpose ; and in case of an attadc, 
 let it be so ordered that every other man only is to shoot at once, excepting 
 on extraordinary occasions ; the one half of the men to keep a reserve 
 fire until their comrades load ; and let everyone be particularly careful -, 
 not to fire at any time without a view of the enemy, and that not at too -f^,, 
 great a distance. I earnestly urge the above caution, as I have known ''■ 
 very remarkable and giievous errors of this kind. You are to encamp 
 on the hollow square, except the volunteers, who, according to their 
 own request, are to encamp on the front of the square. A suffi- 
 cient number of sentinels are to be kept round the square at a proper ., 
 distance. Every man is to be under arms a', the break of day, and 
 to parade opposite to their fire-places, facing out, and when the officers 
 examine their arms, and find them in gocKl order, and give necessary 
 directions, they are to be dismissed, Avith orders to have their arms near 
 them, and be always in readiness. 
 
 " Given by 
 
 " James Smith, Colonel." ". 
 
 m 
 
 In this manner, we proceeded on to French Creek, \^hexe 
 
262 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 we found the Indian town evacuated. I then went on further 
 than my orders called for, in quest of Indians ; but our pro- 
 vision being nearly exhausted, we were obliged to return. 
 On our way back we met with considerable difficulties, on 
 account of high waters and scarcity of provision ; yet we 
 never lost one horse, excepting some that gave out. 
 
 After peace was made with the Indians, I met with some of 
 them in Pittsburg, and inquired of them in their own tongue 
 concerning this expedition, not letting them know I was there. 
 They told me that they watched the movements of this army 
 ever after they had left fort Pitt, and as they passed through 
 the glades or barrens they had a full view of them from the 
 adjacent hills, and computed their number to be about one 
 thousand. They said they also examined their camps, both 
 before and after they were gone, and found they could not 
 make an advantageous attack, and therefore moved off from 
 their town and hunting ground before we arrived. 
 
 In the year 1788, I settled in Bourbon county, Kentucky, 
 seven miles above Paris, and in the same year was elected a 
 member of the convention that sat at Danville to confer about 
 a separation from the state of Virginia ; and from that year 
 until the year 1799, I represented Bourbon county either in 
 cenvention or as a member of the General Assembly, except 
 two years that I was left a few votes behind. 
 
 
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COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 253 
 
 on 
 we 
 
 ON THE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 The Indians are a slovenly people in their dress. They 
 seldom ever wash their shirts, and in regard to cookery they 
 are exceedingly filthy. When they kill a buffalo they wiU 
 sometimes lash the paunch of it round a sapling, and cast it 
 into the kettle, boil it, and sup the broth ; though they com- 
 monly shake it about in cold water, then boil and eat it. Not- 
 withstanding all this, they are very polite in their own way, 
 and they retain among them the essentials of good manners ; 
 though they have few compliments, yet they are complaisant 
 to one another, and when accompanied with good humor and 
 discretion, they entertain strangers in the best manner their 
 circumstances will admit. They use but few titles of honor. 
 In the military line the titles of great men are only captains 
 or leaders of parties. In the civil line, the titles are only 
 counsellors, chiefs, or the '^Id wise men. These titles are 
 never made • use of in addressing any of their great men. 
 The language commonly made use of in addressing them is 
 grandfather, father, or uncle. They have no such thing in 
 use among them as Sir, Mr., Madam, or Mistress. The com- 
 mon mode of address is, my friend, brother, cousin, or^ 
 mother, sister, &c. They pay great respect to age, or to the i 
 aged fathers and mothers among them of every rank. No 
 one can arrive at any place of honor among them but by merit. 
 Either some exploit in war must be performed before any one 
 can be advanced in the military line, or become eminent for 
 wisdom before they can obtain a seat in conncil. It would 
 appear to the Indians a most ridiculous thing to see a man 
 lead on-^ company of warriors, as an officer, who had himself 
 never been in a battle in his life. Even in case of merit they 
 are slow in advancing any one, until they arrive at or near 
 middle age. 
 
 They invite every one that comes to their house or camp to 
 eat, wnile they have any thing to give ; and it is accounted 
 bad manners to refuse eating when invited.. They are very 
 tenacious of their old mode of di;essing and painting, and do 
 not change leu fashions as we do. They are very fond of 
 tobacco, and the men almost all smoke it mixed with sumach 
 leaves or red willow bark, pulverized, though they seldom use 
 it in any other way. They make use of the pipe also as a 
 token of love and friendship. 
 
 In courtship they also differ from us. It is a common thing 
 among them for a young woman, if in love, to make suit to a 
 young man ; though the first address may be by the m^i, yet 
 
 22 - # 
 
 ".^- 
 
254 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 the other is the most common. The squaws are generally 
 very immodest in their words aiid actions, and will often put the 
 young men to the blush. The men commonly appear to be 
 possessed of much more- modesty than the women ; yet 1 have 
 been acquainted with some young squaws that appeared really 
 modest: genuine it must be, s they were imder very little 
 restraint in the channel of edwcption or custom. 
 
 When the Indians meet om- anjther, instead of saying how 
 do you do, they commonly tilute in the following manner: 
 you are my friend — the reply is, truly friend, I am your friend; 
 or, cousin, you yet exist — ^the reply is, certainly I do. They 
 have their children under tolerable command ; seldom ever 
 whip them, and their common mode of chastising is by duck- 
 ing them in cold water ; therefore their children are more 
 obedient in the winter season than they are in the summer, 
 though they are then not so often ducked. They are a peaceable 
 people, and scarcely ever wrangle or scold, when sober ; but 
 they are very much addicted to drinking, and men and women 
 will become basely intoxicated, if they can by any means procure 
 or obtain spirituous liquor, and then they are commonly either 
 extremely merry and kind, or very turbulent, ill-humored and 
 disorderly. 
 
 i-'wr'**^ 
 
 ON THEIR TRADITIONS AND RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS. 
 
 As the family that I was adopted into was intermarried with 
 the Wyandots and Ottawas, three tongues were commonly 
 spoken, viz. : Caughnewaga, or what the French call Iroque, 
 also the Wyandot and Ottawa. By this means I had an oppor- 
 tunity of learning these three tongues ; and I found that these 
 nations varied in their traditions and opinions concerning reli- 
 gion ; and even numbers of the same nation differed widely in 
 Qieir religious sentiments. Their traditions are vague, whim- 
 sical, romantic, and many of them scarce worth relating, and 
 not any of them reach back to the creation of the world. The 
 Wyandots come the nearest to this. They tell of a squaw 
 tnat was found when an infant in the water, in a canoe, made 
 of bulrushes. This squaw became a great prophetess, and did 
 many wonderful things : she turned water into dry land, and at 
 length made this continent, which was at that time only a very 
 small island, and but a few Indians in it. Though they were 
 then but few, they had not sufficient room to hunt; therefore 
 this squaw yvent to the water-side, and prayed that this little 
 island might be enlarged. The Great Being then heard her 
 prayer, and sent great numbers of water tortoises and musk- 
 rats, which brought with thi§m ipud and other mater .als ^ 
 
 jife 
 
INDIAN CUSTOMS. 
 
 255 
 
 enlarging this island, and by this means, they say, it was 
 increased to the size that it now remains ; therefore, they say, 
 that the white people ought not to encroach upon them, or take 
 their land from them, because their great grandmother made 
 it. They say that about this time the angels or heavenly 
 inhabitants, as they call them, frequently visited them and 
 talked with their forefathers, and gave directions how to pray, 
 and how to appease the Great Being when he was offended. 
 They told them they were to offer sacrifice, burn tobacco, buf- 
 falo and deer bones ; but they were not to burn bear's or 
 raccoon's bones in sacrifice. 
 
 The Ottawas say that there are two Great Beings that 
 govern and rule the universe, who are at war with each other ; 
 the one they call Maneto, and the other Matchemaneto. They 
 say that Maneto is all kindness and love, and that Matche- 
 maneto is an evil spirit, that delights in doing mischief; and 
 some of them think that they are equal in power, and there- 
 fore worship the evil spirit out of a principle of fear. Others 
 doubt which of he two may be the m©st powerful, and there- 
 fore endeavor to keep in favor with both, by giving each of 
 them some kind of worship. Others say that Maneto is the 
 first great cause, and therefore must be all powerful and su- 
 
 Sreme, and ought to be adored and worshipped, whereas 
 latchemaneto ought to be rejected and despised. 
 Those of the Ottawas that worship the evil spirit pretend 
 to be great conjurors. I think if there is any such thing now 
 in the world as witchcraft it is among these people. I have 
 been told wonderful .stories concerning their proceedings, but 
 never was eye-witness to any thing that appeared evidently 
 supernatural. 
 
 Some of the Wyandots and Caughnewagas profess to be 
 Roman Catholics; but even these retain many of the notions 
 of their ancestors. Those of them who reject the Roman 
 Catholic religion hold that there is one great first cause, whom 
 they call Owaneeyo, that rules and governs the universe, and 
 takes care of all his creatures, rational and irrational, and gives 
 them their food in due season, and hears the prayers of all 
 those that call upon him ; therefore it is but just and reasona- 
 ble to pray, and offer sacrifice to this Great Being, and to do 
 those things that are pleasing in his sight; but they differ 
 widely in what is pleasing or displeasing to this Great Being. 
 Some hold that following nature or their own propensities is 
 the way to happiness, and cannot be displeasing to the Deity, 
 because he delights in the happiness of his creatures, and does 
 nothing in vain, but gave these dispositions with a design to 
 lead to happiness, and therefore they ought to be followed. 
 
 <^J> 
 
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 W 
 
■Mm ^-^^-A-fttH-H^,, 
 
 256 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 lit! 
 
 •^ 
 
 'fe 
 
 Others reject this opinion altogether, and . say that following 
 their own propensities in this manner is neither the means of 
 happiness nor the way to please the Deity. 
 
 Tecaughretanego was of opinion that following nature ir a 
 limited sense was reasonable a>;d right. He said that i/to»t 
 of the irrational animals, by following their natural propen- 
 sities, were led to the greatest pitch of happiness that ih-^^ir 
 natures and the world they lived in would idmit of He said 
 that mankind ond the rattlesnakes had evil dispositiens, thtu 
 led them to injure themselves and others. He gave instances 
 of thi;«. He said he had a puppy ^i at he did not intend to 
 raise, and in order to try an experiment he tied this puppy on 
 a polfc, nnd held it to a rattlesnake, wbi- h bit it fi"veral limes ; 
 thai he observed the snake shortly after rolling aboat \ppar- 
 ently in great misory, so that it appeared to have poiooned 
 itself as well as tl e puppy. The other instance he gave »vag 
 concerning himself, lie ■lid tIio\ when he was a young man 
 he was very fond of tliL^ ^^omcn, and at length got tne venereal 
 disease, so that, by foiiOvving this propensity, he was led to 
 injure himself and olht-rs. He said our happiness depends on 
 r, our using our reason, in order to suppress these evil disposi- 
 tions ; but when our propensities neither lead us to it.jure 
 ourselves nor others we might with safety indulge them, or 
 even pursue them as the means of happiness. 
 
 The Indians, generally, are of opinion that thore are great 
 numbers of inferior deities, which they call Carreyagaroona, 
 which signifies the heavenly inhabitants. These beings they 
 suppose are employed as assistants in managing the affairs of 
 the universe, and in inspecting the actions of men ; and that 
 even the irrational animals are engaged in viewing their 
 actions, and bearing intelligence to the gods. The eagle, for 
 this puirpose, wiih her keen eye, is soaring about in the day, 
 and the owl, with her nightly eye, perched on the trees around 
 their camp in the night ; therefore, when they observe the 
 ''^ eagle or the owl near they immediately offer sacrifice, or burn 
 ^^,,' tobacco, that they may have a good report to carry to the gods. 
 They say that there are also great numbers of evil spirits, 
 which they call Onasahroona, which signifies the inhabitants 
 of the lower region. These, they say, are employed in dis- 
 turbing the world, and the good spirits are always going after 
 them, and setting things right, so that they are constantly 
 working ia opposition to each other. ' Some talk of a future 
 state, but not with any certainty ; at best their notions are 
 vague and unsettled. Others deny a future state altogether, 
 and say that, after death, they neither think nor live. 
 
 As tne Caughne\^agas and the Six Nations speak nearly 
 
 *<3 
 
 
..;>' 
 
 INDIAN CUSTOMS. 
 
 257 
 
 the same language, their theology is also nearly alike. When 
 I met with the Shawanees, or Delawares, as I could not speak 
 their tongue, I spoke Ottawa to them, and as it bore some 
 resemblance to their language, we understood each other in 
 some common affairs ; but, as I could only converse with them 
 very imperfectly, I cannot from my own knowledge, with cer- 
 ? \inty, give any account of their theological opinions. 
 
 le 
 
 rrcat 
 oona, 
 
 they 
 
 rs of 
 that 
 
 their 
 
 for 
 
 day, 
 
 round 
 ; the 
 burn 
 gods. 
 
 spirits, 
 itants 
 
 ,n dis- 
 after 
 tantly 
 future 
 IS are 
 rether, 
 
 Inearly 
 
 ON THEIR POLICE, OR CIVIL GOVERNMENT. 
 
 I have often heard of Indian kings, but never saw any. 
 How any term used by the Indians in their own tongue, for 
 the chief man of a nation, could be rendered king, I know not. 
 The chief of a nation is neither a supreme ruler, monarch, or 
 *1 potentate ; he can neither make war or peace, leagues or 
 
 treaties ; he cannot impress soldiers, or dispose of magazines ; 
 he cannot adjourn, prorogue, or dissolve a general assembly, 
 nor can he refuse his assejit to their conclusions, or in any 
 manner control them. With them there is no such thing as 
 hereditary succession, title of nobility, or royal blobd, even 
 talked of. The chief of a nation, even with the consent of his 
 assembly, or council, cannot raise one shilling of tax off the 
 citizens, but only receive what they please to give as free an4'« 
 voluntary donations. The chief of a nation has to hunt fo/ -^ 
 his living as any other citizen. Hov; then can they, with any 
 propriety, be called kings ? I apprehend that the white people 
 were formerly so fond of the name of kings, and so ignorant of 
 their power, that they concluded the chief man of a nation 
 must be a king. 
 
 As they are illiterate, they consequently have no written 
 code of laws. What they execute as laws are either old cus- 
 toms, or the immediate result of new councils. Some %f their 
 ancient laws or customs are very pernicious, and disturb the 
 public weal. Their vague law of marriage is a glaring in- 
 stance of this, as the man and his wife are under no legal 
 obligation to live together if they are both willing to part. 
 They have little form or ceremony among them in matrimony, 
 but do like the Israelites of old ; the man goes in unto the 
 woman, and she becomes his wife. The years of puberty, and 
 the age of consent, is about fourteen for the women, and 
 eighteen for the men. Before I was taken by the Indians, I 
 had often heard that in the ceremony of marriage, the man 
 gave the woman a deer's leg, and she gave him a red ear of 
 corn, signifying that she was to keep him in bread, and he was 
 to keep her in meat. I inquired of them concerning the truth 
 of this, and they said they knew nothing .of it, further than 
 22* 
 
 «t* 
 
 
il 
 
 258 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 that they had heard it was the ancient custom among some 
 nations. Their frequent changing of partners prevents propa- 
 gation, creates disturbances, and often occasions murder and 
 bloodshed, though this is commonly committed under the pre- 
 tence of being drunk. TLeir impunity to crimes committed 
 when intoxicated with spirituous liquors, or their admitting 
 one crime as an excuse for another, is u very unjust law or 
 custom. 
 
 The extremes they run into in dividing the necessaries of 
 life are hurtful to the public weal ; though their dividing meat 
 when hunting may answer a valuable purpose, as one family 
 may have success one day, and the other the next ; but their 
 carrying this custom to the town, or to agriculture, is striking 
 at the root of industry, as industrious persons ought to be 
 rewarded, and the lazy suffer for their indolence. 
 
 They have scarcely any penal laws ; the principal punish- 
 ment is degrading ; even murder is not punished by any for- 
 mal law, only the friends of the murdered are at liberty to slay 
 the murderer if some atonement is not made. Their not an- 
 nexing penalties to their laws is perhaps not as great a crime, 
 or as unjust and cruel, as the bloody laws of England, which 
 we have so long shamefully practised, and which are to be in 
 ^/4brce in this state until our penitentiary house is finished, 
 f.1l1^hich is now building, and then they are to be repealed. 
 
 Let us also take a view of the advantages attending Indian 
 police : They are not oppressed or perplexed with expensive 
 litigation ; they are not injured by legal robbery ; they have 
 no splendid villains that make themselves grand and great 
 upon other people's labor ; they have neither church nor state 
 erected as money-making machines. 
 
 ¥^ 
 
 ON THEIR DISCIPLINE AND METHOD OF WAR. 
 
 ... •>% 
 
 I have often heard the British ofHcers call the Indians the 
 undisciplined savages, which is a capital mistake, as they have 
 all the essentials of discipline. They are under good com- 
 mand, and punctual in obeying orders ; they can act in con- 
 cert, and when their officers lay a plan and give orders, they 
 will cheerfully unite in putting all their directions into imme- 
 diate execution ; and by each man observing the motion or 
 movement of his right-hand companion, they can communicate 
 the motion from right to left, and march abreast in concert, and 
 in scattered order, though the line may be more than a mile 
 long, and continue, if occasion requires, for a considerable 
 distance, without disorder or confusion. They can perform 
 various necessary manoBuvres, either slowly, or as fast as they 
 
 # 
 
 »■ 
 
some 
 iTopa- 
 r and 
 B pre- 
 Tiitted 
 litting 
 aw or 
 
 ries of 
 r meat 
 family 
 It their 
 triking 
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 punish- 
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 to slay 
 not an- 
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 [, which 
 to he in 
 Snishcd, 
 
 Indian 
 
 jensive 
 
 y have 
 
 id great 
 
 lor state 
 
 ians the 
 ,ey have 
 od com- 
 in con- 
 rs, they 
 imme- 
 lotion or 
 tiunicate 
 ert, and 
 "n a mile 
 iiderable 
 perform 
 as they 
 
 INDIAN CUSTOMS. 
 
 269 
 
 can run ; they can form a circle or semicircle. The circle 
 they make use of in order to surround their enemy, and the 
 semicircle if th« enemy has a river on one side of them. 
 They can also form a large hollow square, face out and take 
 trees ; this they do if their enemies are about surrounding 
 them, to prevent being shot from either side of the tree. When 
 they go into battle they are not loaded or encumbered with 
 many clothes, as they commonly fight naked, save only breech- 
 clout, leggins, and moccasins. There is no such thing as cor- 
 poreal punishment used in order to bring them under such 
 good discipline ; degrading is the only chastisement, and they 
 are so unanimous in this that it efTectually answers the pur- 
 pose. Their officers plan, order, md conduct matters until 
 they are brought into action, and then each man is to fight as 
 though he was to gain the battle himself. General orders are 
 commonly given in time of battle either to advance or retreat, 
 and is done by a shout or yell, which is well understood, and 
 then they retreat or advance in concert. They are generally 
 well equipped, and exceedingly expert and active in the use of 
 arms. Could it be supposed that undisciplined troops could 
 defeat Generals Braddock, Grant, &c. ? It may be said by 
 some that the French were also engaged in this war. True, 
 they were ; yet I know it was the Indians that laid the plan, 
 and with small assistance put it into execution. The Indians 
 had no aid from the French, or any other power, when they 
 besieged fort Pitt in the year 1763, and cut off the communi- 
 cation for a considerable time between that post and fort 
 Loudon, and would have defeated General Bouquet's army 
 (who were on the way to raise the siege) had it not been for 
 the assistance of the Virginia volunteers. They had no Brit- 
 ish troops wi them when they defeated Colonel Crawford, 
 near the Sanausky, in the time of the American war with 
 Great Britain ; or when they defeated Colonel Loughrie, on the 
 Ohio, near the Miami, on his way to meet General Clarke : 
 this was also in the time of the British war. It was the In- 
 dians alone that defeated Colonel Todd, in Kentucl:y, near the 
 Blue Licks, in the year 1782 ; and Colonel Harmer, betwixt 
 •the Ohip and lake Erie, in the year 1790, and General St. 
 Clair, in the year 1791 ; and it is said that therp were more of 
 our men killed at this defeat than there were in any one battle 
 during our contest with Great Britain. They had no aid 
 when they fought even the Virginia riflemen, almost a whoj^e 
 day, at the Great Kenhawa, in the year 1774 ; and when they 
 found they could not prevail against the Virginians they made 
 a most artful retreat. Notwithstanding they had the Ohio to 
 cross, some continued 
 
 firing 
 
 whilst others were crossing the 
 
 
 1 
 
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 1 
 
 'Iv' 
 
 '(1 
 
 ''ill 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 a 
 
fido 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 i. : 
 
 Id 
 
 river; in this manner they proceeded, until they all got over, 
 before the Virginians knew that they had retreated, and in this 
 retreat they carried off all their wounded. In the most of the 
 feregoing aefeats they fought with an inferior number, though 
 in this, I believe, it was not the case. 
 
 Nothing can be more unjustly represented than the different 
 accounts we have had of their number, from time to time, both 
 by their own computations, and that of the British. While I 
 was among them I saw the account of the number that they, 
 in those parts, gave to the French, and kept it by me. When 
 they, in their own council-house, were taking nn account of 
 their number, with a piece of bark, nev/ly stripped, and a small 
 stick, which answered the end of a slate and pencil, I took an 
 account of the different nations and tribes, which I added to- 
 
 f ether, and found there were not half the number which they 
 ad given the French ; and though they were then their allies, 
 and lived among them, it was not easy finding out the decep- 
 tion, as they were a wandering set, and some of them almost 
 always in the woods hunting. I asked one of the chiefs what 
 was their reason for making such different returns. He said 
 it was for political reasons, in order to obtain greater presents 
 from the French, by telling them they could not divide such 
 ■fend such quantities of goods among so many. 
 
 In the year of General Bouquet's last campaign, 1764, I 
 saw the official return made by the British officers of the num- 
 ber of Indians that were in arms against us that year, which 
 amounted to thirty thousand. As I was then a lieutenant in 
 the British service, I told them I was of opinion that there 
 Was not above one thousand in arms against us, as they were 
 divided by Broadstreet's army, being then at lake Erie. The 
 British officers hooted at me, and said they could not make 
 England sensible of the difficulties they labored under in 
 fighting them, as England expected that their troops could 
 fight the undisciplined savages in America five to one, as they 
 did the East Indians, and therefore my report would not an- 
 swer their purpose, as they could not give an honorable account 
 of the war but by augmenting their number. I am of opinion 
 that from Braddock's war until the present time there never 
 Were more than three thousand Indians, at any time, in arms 
 agdinst us west of fort Pitt, and frequently not half that num- 
 ber. According to the Indians' own accounts, during the 
 whole of Btaddock's war, or from 1765 till 1768, they killed 
 ■jr took fifty of our people for one that they lost. In the war 
 thdt commenced ih the year 1763 they killed comparatively 
 few of oUr peoplfe, and Ic t more of theirs, as the frontiers 
 (especially the VirginiansJ had learned something of their 
 
 «-^' 
 
INDIAN CUSTOMS. 
 
 261 
 
 >ver, 
 this 
 rihe 
 )ugh 
 
 BTent 
 both 
 nile I 
 they, 
 yhen 
 int of 
 small 
 ok an 
 ed to- 
 1 they 
 allies, 
 decep- 
 almost 
 s what 
 le said 
 resents 
 e such 
 
 method of war ; yet they, in this war, according to their own 
 accounts, (which I believe to be true,) killed or took ten of our 
 people for one they lost. 
 
 Let us now take a view of the blood and treasure that was 
 spent in opposing comparatively a few Indian warriors, with 
 only some assistance from the French, the first four years of 
 the war. Additional to the amazing destruction and slaughter 
 that the frontiers sustained from James river fo Susquehanna, 
 and about thirty miles broad, the following campaigns were 
 also carried on against the Indians : General Braddock's, in 
 the year 1755; Colonel Armstrong's, against the Caitanyan 
 town on the Alleghany, 1757 ; Gen. Forbes's, in 175S; Gen. 
 Stanwick's, in 1759; General Monkton's, in 1760; Colonel 
 Bouquet's, in 1761 and 1763, when he fought the battle of 
 Brushy Run, and lost above one hundred men, but, by the 
 assistance of the Virginia volunteers, drove the Indians ; Col. 
 Armstrong's, up the west branch of Susquehanna, in 1763 ; 
 General Broadstreet's, up lake Erie, in 1764 ; Gen. Bouquet's 
 against the Indians at Muskingum, 1764 ; Lord Dunmore's, in 
 1774; Gen. M'Intosh's, in 1778; Colonel Crawford's, shortly 
 after his ; Gen. Clarke's, in 1778, 1780 ; Colonel Bowman's, 
 in 1779 ; General Clarke's, in 1782, against the Wabash in 
 1786 ; Gen. Logan's, against the Shawanees, in 1786 ; Gen. 
 
 Wilkinson's, in ; Colonel Harmer's, in 1790 ; and Gen. 
 
 St. Clair's, in 1791 ; which, in all, are twenty-two campaigns, 
 besides smaller expeditions ; such as the French Creek expe- 
 dition, Colonel Edwards's, Loughrie's, &c. All these were 
 exclusive of the number of men that were internally employed 
 as scouting parties, and in erecting forts, guarding stations, &cJ»' 
 When we take the foregoing occurrences into consideration, ^ J:: 
 may we not reasonably conclude, that they are the best disci- ":' " 
 plined troops in the known world ? Is it not the best discipline 
 that has the greatest tendency to annoy the enemy and save 
 their own men ? I apprehend that the Indian discipline is sm 
 well calculated to answer the purpose in the woods of America, 
 as the British discipline in Flanders ; and British discipline in 
 the woods is the way to have men slaughtered, with scarcely 
 any chance of defending themselves. 
 
 Let us take a view of the benefits we have received by what 
 little we have learned of their art of war, which cost us dear, 
 and the loss we have sustained for want of it, and then see if 
 it will not be well worth our while to retain what we have, and 
 also to endeavor to improve in this necessary branch of busi- 
 ness. Though we have made considerable proficiency in this 
 line, and in some respects outdo them, viz. as marksmen, and 
 in cutting our rifles, and keeping them in good okler; yet I 
 
 4. 
 

 I 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 ttpprehend we are far behind in their manoeuvrefl, or in being 
 able to surprise, or prevent a surprise. May we not conclude, 
 that the progress we had made in their art of war contributed 
 considerably towards our success, in various respects, when 
 contending with Great Britain for liberty ? Had the British 
 king attempted to enslave us before Braddock's war, in all pro- 
 bability he might readily have done it, because, except the New 
 Englanders, who had formerly been engaged in war with the 
 Indians, we were unacquainted with any kind of war. But 
 after fighting such a subtle and barbarous enemy as the In- 
 dians, we were not terrified at the approach of British red-coats. 
 Was not Burgoyne's defeat accomplished, in some measure, by 
 the Indian mode of fighting ? And did not General Morgan's 
 riflemen, and many others, fight with greater success in con- 
 sequence of what they had learned of tnoir art of war ? Ken- 
 tucky would not have been settled at the time it was, had the 
 Virginians been altogether ignorant of this method of war. 
 
 In Braddock's war the frontiers were laid waste for above 
 three hundred miles long, and generally about thirty broad, 
 excepting some that were living in forts, and many hundreds, 
 or perhaps thousands, killed or made captives, and horses, and 
 all kinds of property carried off. But, in the next Indian war, 
 '^ though we had the same Indians to cope with, the frontiers 
 ■* almost all stood their ground, because they were by this time, 
 in some measure, acquainted with their manoeuvres ; and the 
 want of this in the first war was the cause of the loss of many 
 hundreds of our citizens, and much treasure. 
 
 Though large volumes have been written on morality, yet it 
 *niay be all summed up in saying, do as you would wish to be 
 ' done by. So the Indians sum up the art of war in the follow- 
 ing manner. 
 
 The business of the private warriors is to be under command, 
 or punctually to obey orders ; to learn to march abreast in 
 scattered order, so as to be in readiness to surround the enemy, 
 or to prevent being surrounded ; to be good marksmen, and 
 active in the use of arms ; to practise running ; to learn to 
 endure hunger or hardships with patience and fortitude ; to tell 
 the truth at all times to their officers, but more especially when 
 sent out to spy the enemy. 
 
 Concerning Officers. — They say that it would be absurd to 
 appoint a man an officer whose skill and courage had never 
 been tried ; that all officers should be advanced only according 
 to merit ; that no one man should have the absolute command 
 of an army ; that a council of officers are to determine when 
 and how an attack is to be made ; that it is the business of the 
 officers to lay plans to take every advantage of the enemy; to 
 
 \- 
 
INDIAN CUSTOMS. 
 
 863 
 
 being 
 
 elude, 
 
 ibuted 
 
 when 
 
 3ritish 
 
 U pro- 
 
 e New 
 
 ith the 
 
 . But 
 
 the In- 
 
 1 -coats. 
 
 mre, by 
 
 organ's 
 
 in con- 
 
 ! Ken- 
 had the 
 
 war. 
 
 »r above 
 
 y broad, 
 
 undreds, 
 
 rses, and 
 
 iian war, 
 
 frontiers 
 
 his time, 
 and the 
 of many 
 
 ty, yet it 
 ish to be 
 ie follow- 
 
 ^mmand, 
 oreast in 
 enemy, 
 len, and 
 learn to 
 to tell 
 |iliy when 
 
 absurd to 
 [ad never 
 Recording 
 Command 
 line when 
 3SS of the 
 [lemy; to 
 
 ambush and surprise them, and to prevent being a;Abu8hed and 
 surprised themselves. It is the duty of officers to prepare and * 
 deliver speeches to the men, in order to animate and encourage 
 them ; and on the march, to prevent the men, at any time, from 
 getting into a huddle, because if the enemy should surround 
 them in this position they would be exposed to the enemy'a 
 fire. It is likewise their business at all times to endeavor to 
 annoy their enemy, and save their own men, and thereforo 
 ought never to bring on an attack without considerable advan- 
 tage, or without what appeared to them the sure prospect of 
 victory, and that with the loss of few men ; and if at any time 
 they should be mistaken in this, and are like to lose many men 
 by gaining the victory, it is their duty to retreat, and wait for 
 a better opportunity of defeating their enemy, without the dan- 
 ger of losing so many men. Their conduct proves that they 
 act upon these principles ; therefore it is that, from Braddock'f 
 war to the present time, they have seldom ever made an un- 
 successful attack. The battle at the mouth of the Great Ken- 
 hawa is the greatest instance of this ; and even then, though 
 the Indians killed about three for one they lost, yet they re- 
 treated. The loss of the Virginians in this action was seventy 
 killed, and the same number wounded. The Indians lost 
 twenty killed on the field, and eight who died afterwards of 
 their wounds. This was the greatest loss of men that I ever 
 knew the Indians to sustain m any one battle. They will 
 commonly retreat if their men are tailing fast ; they will not 
 stand cutting like the Highlanders or other British troops ; but 
 this proceeds from a compliance with their rules of war rather 
 than cowardice. If they are surrounded they will fight while * 
 there is a man of them alive, rather than surrender. When 
 Colonel John Armstrong surrounded the Cattanyan town, on 
 the Alleghany river. Captain Jacobs, a Delaware chief, with 
 some warriors, took possession of a house, defended themselves 
 for some time, and Killed a number of our men. As Jacobs 
 could speak English, our people called on him to surrender. 
 He said that he and his men were warriors, and they would 
 all fight while life remained. He was again told that they 
 should be well used if they would only surrender ; and if not, 
 the house should be burned down over their heads. Jacobs 
 replied, he could eat fire ; and when the house was in a flame, 
 he, and they that were with him, came out in a fighting posi- 
 tion, and were all killed. As they are a sharp, active kind of 
 people, and war is their principal study, in this they have 
 arrived at considerable perfection. We may learn of the In- 
 dians what is useful and laudable, and at the same time lay 
 aside their barbarous proceedings. It is much to be lamented, 
 
 > 
 
 )! 
 
 '?(?!■ 
 
 ■**^- 
 
 
 .a--; .&:...:..* :ji- ': 
 
284 
 
 COLONEL SMITH'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 J*. 
 
 «- 
 
 
 Is 
 
 that some of our frontier riflemen are too prone to imitate them 
 in their inhumanity. During the British war, a considerable 
 number of men from below fort Pitt crossed the Ohio, and 
 marched into a town of friendly Indians, chiefly Delawares, 
 who professed the Moravian religion. As the Indians appre- 
 hended no danger, they neither lifted arms nor fled. After 
 these riflemen were some time in the town, and the Indians 
 altogether in their power, in cool blood they massacred the 
 whole town, without distinction of age or sex. This was an 
 act of barbarity beyond any thing I ever knew to be committed 
 by the savages themselves. 
 
 Why have we not made greater proficiency in the Indian art 
 of war ? Is it because we are too proud to imitate them, even 
 though it should be a means of preserving the lives of many 
 of our citizens ? No ! We are not above borrowing language 
 from them, such as homony, pone, tomahawk, &;c., which is of 
 little or no use to us. I apprehend, that the reasons why we 
 have not improved more in this respect are as follow : no 
 important acquisition is to be obtained but by attention and 
 diligence ; and as it is easier to learn to move and act in con- 
 cert in close order in the open plain, than to act in concert in 
 scattered order in the woods, so it is easier to learn our disci- 
 pline than the Indian manoeuvres. They train up their boys 
 m the art of war from the time they are twelve or fourteen 
 
 {rears of age ; whereas, the principal chance our people had of 
 earning was by observing their manoeuvres when in action 
 against us. I have been long astonished that no one has writ- 
 ten upon thi? important subject, as their art of war would not 
 only be of use to us in case of another rupture with them ; but 
 were only part of our men taught this art, accompanied with 
 our continental discipline, I think no European power, after 
 trial, would venture to show its head in the American woods. 
 
 If what I have written should meet the approbation of my 
 countrymen, perhaps I may publish more upon this subject in 
 a future edition. 
 
 ■m 
 
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 ■*;' 
 
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 INDI^ 
 
 request 
 datory 
 Philade 
 site th€ 
 
 PREF^ 
 
 the ensu 
 
 been so 
 
 acter, th<i 
 
 known ; 
 
 itants of 
 
 captivity ; 
 
 tribute to 
 
 any reque 
 
 seeing the 
 
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 acquaintai 
 
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265 
 
 A FAITHFUL NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE MANY DANGERS AND SUFFERINGS, AS WELL AS 
 WONDERFUL AND SURPRISING DELIV ERANCES, OP ROBERT 
 EASTBURN, DURING HIS LATE CA-»T1VITY AMONG THE 
 INDIANS. WRITTEN B^ HIMSELF. Published at the earnest 
 request of many persons, for the benefit of the Public. With a reconunen- 
 datory Preface by the Rev. Gilbert Tennent. —Psalms 24, 6, 7, and 193, 2, 4. 
 Philadelphia : Printed. Boston : Reprinted and sold by Green & Russell, oppo- 
 site the Probate Office in<iueen street, 1758. 
 
 . 
 
 Preface. — Candid Reader : The author (and subject) of 
 the ensuing narrative (who is a deacon of our church, and has 
 been so for many years) is of such an established good chat' 
 acter, that he needs no recommendation of others where he is 
 known ; a proof of which was the general joy of the inhab- 
 itants of this city, occasioned by his return from a miserable 
 captivity ; together with the readiness of divers persons to con- 
 tribute to the re'ief of himself and necessitous family, without 
 any request of his, or the least motion of that tendency. But 
 seeing the following sheets are like to spread into many places 
 where he is not known, permit me to say that, upon long 
 acquaintance, I have found him to be a pertfipn of candor^, 
 integrity, and sincere piety, whose testimony«'may with safely 
 be depended upon; which give his narrative the greater 
 weight, and may induce to read it with the greater pleasure. 
 The design of it is evidently pious ; the matters contained m 
 23 
 
 a»> 
 
 M 
 
 * 
 
266 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 it, and manner of handling them, will, I hope, be esteemed 
 by the impartial to be entertaining and improving. I wish it 
 may, by the divine benediction, be of great and durable ser- 
 vice. I am thy sincere servant in the gospel of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Gilbert Tennent. 
 Philadelphia, January 19th, 1758. 
 
 Kind Readers : On my return from my captfvity I had no 
 thoughts of publishing any observations of mine to the world 
 in this manner. As I had no opportunity to keep a journal, 
 and my memory being broken and capacity small,. I was 
 disinclined to undertake it. But a number of friends were 
 pressing in their persuasions that I should do it ; with whose 
 motions I complied, from a sincere regard to God, my king and 
 country, so far as I know my own heart. The following 
 pages contain, as far as I can remember, the most material 
 passages that happened within the compass of my observation 
 while a prisoner in Canada. The facts therein related are 
 certainly true, but the way of representing some things espe- 
 cially, is not so regular, clear and strong as I could wish ; but 
 I trust it will be some apology, that I am not t ^ much acquaint- 
 ed with performances of this kind as many others, who may 
 be hereby excited to give better representations of things, far 
 beyond my knowledge. I remain your unfeigned well-wisher 
 and humble servant, 
 
 Robert Eastburn. 
 
 Philadelphia, January 19, 1758. 
 
 A Faithful Narrative, &c. — About thirty tradesmen and 
 my£elf arrived at Captain Williams' fort, at the carrying 
 place, in our way to Oswego, the 26th of March, 1756. 
 Captain Williams informed me that he was like to be cum- 
 bered in the fort, and therefore advised us to take the Indian 
 house for our lodging. About ten o'clock next day, a negro man 
 came running down the road and reported that our slaymen 
 were all taken by the enemy. Captain Williams, on hearing 
 this, sent a sergeant and about twelve men to see if it were true. 
 I being at the Indian house, and not thinking myself safe there, 
 in case of an attack, and heinp also sincerely willing to serve 
 ij^y king and country, in the best manner I could in my pres- 
 ent circumstances, asked him if he would take company. He 
 replied, with all his heart ! hereupon I fell into the rear with 
 my arms, and marched after them. When we had advanced 
 about a quarter of a mile, we heard a shot, followed with dole- 
 
 * It is a 
 i'ldulged 
 captii'e wa 
 acquaintar 
 «e," thoug 
 
 flf 
 
V1^ 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 267 
 
 irrying 
 ^ 1756. 
 
 le cum- 
 Indian 
 roman 
 laymen 
 fiearing 
 re mie. 
 fe there, 
 ,0 serve 
 ,y pres- 
 He 
 
 ar with 
 
 vanced 
 
 kh dole- 
 
 ful cries of a dying man, which excited me to advance, in 
 order to discover the enemy, who I soon perceived were pre- 
 pared to receive us. In this difficult situation, seeing a large 
 pine tree near, I repaired to it for shelter ; and while the enemy 
 were viewing our party, I, having a good chance of killing 
 tWQ at a shot, quickly discharged at them, but could not cer- 
 tainly know what execution was done till some time after. 
 Our company likewise discharged and retreated. Seeing 
 myself in danger of being surrounded, I was obliged to retreat 
 a different course, and to my great surprise fell into a deep 
 mire, which the enemy by following my track in a light snow 
 soon discovered, and obliged me to surrender, to prevent a cruel 
 death ; they standing ready to drive their darts into my body, 
 in case I refused to deliver up my arms. Presently after I was 
 taken, I was surrounded by a great number, who stripped me 
 of my clothing, hat and neckcloth, so that I had nothing left 
 but a flannel vest without sleeves, put a rope on my neck, 
 bound my arms fast behind me, put a long band* round my 
 body, and a large pack on my back, struck me a severe blow 
 on the head, and drove me through the woods before them. It 
 is not easy to conceive how distressing such a condition is. 
 In the mean time I endeavored with all my little remaining 
 strength to lift up my eyes to God, from whom alone I could 
 with reason expect relief. 
 
 Seventeen or eighteen prisoners were soon added to our 
 number, one of whom informed me that the Indians were 
 angry with me, reported to some of their chiefs that I htui I'red 
 on tnem, wounded one and killed another ; for whicli he 
 doubted not they would kill me. 
 
 I had not as yet learned what number the enemy's parties 
 consisted of; there being only about one hundred Indians who 
 had lain in ambush on the road to kill or take irj.o captivity 
 all that passed between the two forts. Here an interpreter 
 came to me to inquire what strength Captain Williams had to 
 defend his, fort. After a short pause 1 gave such a discour- 
 aging answer, (yet consistent with truth,)*" as prevented their 
 attacking it, and of consequence the effusion of much blood. 
 Hereby it evidently appeared that I was suffered to fall into 
 the hands of the enemy to promote the good of my country- 
 men, to better purpose than I could by continuing with them. 
 . In the mean time the enemy determined to destroy BullNs 
 
 "■ It is a great pity that our modern managers of Ihdian affairs had not 
 iiidulged in such scrupulous veracity. They would probably say our 
 captive was " more nice than wise." But perhaps he was like an old 
 acquaintance of mine, who used to say sometimes that " he al-most told a 
 UCi" though Twt quite. — Ed ... .^. , , 
 
 j*"^ 
 
 
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 I 
 
 :^. 
 
 ?' I 
 
 m 
 
 \ 
 
 ^t *.\ 
 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 I' '^ 
 
 V 
 
 1;. 
 
 268 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 fort, (at the head of Wood Creek,) which they soon effected ; 
 all heing put to the sword, except five persons, tjie fort burnt, 
 the provisions and powder destroyed, (saving only a little for 
 their own use.) Then they retired to the woods and joined their 
 main body, including which, consisted of four hundred French 
 and three hundred Indians, commanded by one of the principal 
 gentlemen of Quebec. As soon as they got together, (having a 
 priest with them,) they fell on their knees and returned thanks 
 for their victory. An example this, worthy of imitation ! an 
 example which may make profane, pretended Protestants 
 blush, if they are not lost to all sense of shame,* who, instead 
 of acknowledging a God, or providence, in their military 
 undertakings, are continually reproachinf him with oaths and 
 curses. Is it any wonder the attempts of such are blasted 
 with disappointment and disgrace ? 
 
 The enemy had several wounded men, both French and 
 Indians, among them, whom they carried on their backs ; 
 besides these, about fifteen of their number were killed, and 
 of us about forty. It being Ly this time near dark, and some 
 Indians drunk, they only marched about four miles and 
 encamped. The Indians untied my arms, cut hemlock boughs 
 and strewed round the fire, tied my band to two trees, v uh my 
 back on the green boughs, (by the fire,) covered me with an 
 old blanket, and lay down a''ross my band, on each side, to 
 prevent my escape while they slept. 
 
 Sunday the 28th, we rose early ; the commander ordered a 
 hasty retreat towards Canada, for fear of General Johnson. 
 In the mean time, one of our men said he understood the 
 French and Indians designed to join a strong party, and fall 
 on Oswego, before our forces at that place could get any pro- 
 vision or succor ; having, as they thought, put a stop to our 
 relieving them for a time. When encamped in the evening, 
 the commanding officer ordered the Indians to bring me to his 
 tent, and asked me by an interpreter if I thought General 
 Johnson would follow tnem. I told him I judged not, but rather 
 thought he would proceed to Oswego, (which was indeed my 
 sentiment, grounded upon prior information, and then expressed 
 to prevent the execution of their design.) He further inquired 
 what my trade was. I told him, that of a smith. He then 
 persuaded me, when I got to Canada, to send for my wife, 
 " for," said he, *' you can get a rich living there." But when 
 he saw that he could not prevail, he asked me no more ques- 
 
 * What would Captain Gyles have said to such praise of Catholics and 
 their religion ? and by a Protestant too. He would no doubt have said 
 that the devil had helped them, inasmuch as no good spirit would have 
 heard the prayers of " wicked papists." — Ed, 
 
 
 P* 
 
ted ; 
 
 iirnt, 
 
 B for 
 
 their 
 
 rench 
 
 icipal 
 
 ring a 
 
 tianks 
 
 n! ail 
 
 stants 
 
 nstead 
 
 ilitary 
 
 lis and 
 
 alasted 
 
 ih and 
 backs ; 
 ed, and 
 i some 
 es and 
 houghs 
 m Ah my 
 with an 
 side, to 
 
 dered a 
 lohnson. 
 Lood the 
 [and fall 
 my pro- 
 to our 
 Bvening, 
 \e to his 
 I General 
 It rather 
 deed my 
 Ixpressed 
 linquired 
 iHe then 
 ly wife, 
 Rut when 
 \xe ques- 
 
 lolics and 
 Ihave said 
 lould have 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 269 
 
 tions, but commanded me to my Indian master. Having this 
 opportunity of conversation, I informed the general that his 
 Indian warriors had stripped me of my clothing, and would be 
 glad if he would be good enough to order me some relief; to 
 which he replied, " I should get clothes when I came to Can- 
 ada," which was cold comfort to one almost frozen. On my 
 return, the Indians, perceiving I was unwell and could not eat 
 their coarse food, ordered some chocolate, which they had 
 brought from the carrying place, to be boiled for me, and see- 
 ing me eat that appeared pleased. A strong guard was 
 kept every night. One of our men being weakened by his 
 wounds, and rendered unable to keep pace with them, was 
 killed and scalped on the road ! I was all this time almost 
 naked, travelling through deep snow, and wading through riv- 
 ers, cold as ice ! 
 
 After seven days' march, we arrived at lake Ontario, where 
 I eat some horse flesh, which tasted very agreeably, for to a 
 hungry man, as Solomon observes, every bitter thing is sweet. 
 On the Friday before we arrived at the lake, the Indians killed 
 a porcupine. The Indians threw it on a large fire, burnt off 
 the hair and quills, roasted and eat of it, with whom I had a 
 part. 
 
 The French carried several of their wounded men all the 
 way upon their backs ; many of whom wore no breeches in 
 their travels in this cold season, being strong hardy men. 
 The Indians had three of their party wounded, which they 
 likewise carried on their backs. I wish there was more of 
 this hardiness, so necessary for war, in our nation, which would 
 open a more encouraging scene than appears at present. The 
 prisoners were so divided, that but few could converse together 
 on the march, and what was still more disagreeable and dis- 
 tressing, an Indian who had a large bunch of green scalps, 
 taken off our men's heads, marched before me, and another with 
 a sharp spear behind, to drive me after him, by which means the 
 scalps were often close to my face. And as we marched, they 
 frequently every day gave the dead shout, which was repeated 
 as many times as there were captives and scalps taken. 
 
 I may with justice and truth observe, that our enemies leave 
 no stone unturned to compass our ruin. They pray, work, 
 and travel to bring it about, and are unwearied in the pursuit, 
 while many among us sleep in a storm which has laid a good 
 part of our country desolate, and threatens the whole with 
 destruction. 
 
 April 4th, several French batteaux met us, and brought a 
 large supply of provision, the sight of which caused great joy, 
 for we were in great want. Then a place was soon erected to 
 23* 
 
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 I f 
 
 i 
 
 ii 
 
 P' 
 
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 ill 
 
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 M 
 
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 ^:- 
 
270 
 
 
 ii 
 
 •^ • 
 
 y-. 
 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURNS CAPTIVITY. 
 
 celebrate mass in, which being ended, we all went over the 
 mouth of a river, where it empties itself into the east end of 
 lake Ontario. A great part of our company set off on foot 
 towards Oswegatchy, while the rest were ordered into batteaux 
 and carried towards the extreme of St. Lawrence, (where that 
 river takes its beginning,) but by reason of bad weather, wind, 
 rain, and snow, whereby the waters of the lake were troubled, 
 we were obliged to lie by, and haul our batteaux on shore. 
 Here I lay on the cold shore two days. Tuesday set off, and 
 entered the head of St. Lawrence in the afternoon ; came too 
 late at night, made fires, but did not lie down to sleep. Em- 
 barking long before day, and after some miles' progress down 
 the river, saw many fires on our right hand, which were made 
 ly the men who left us and went by land. With them we staid 
 tn day, then again embarked in our batteaux. The weather 
 was very oad, (it snowed fast all day ;) near night we arrived 
 ui Oswegatchy. I was almost starved to death, but hoped to 
 3tav in this Indian town till warm weather ; slept in an Indian 
 wii. 'vam, rose early in the morning, (being Thurf^day,) and 
 soon to m^,' grief discovered my disappointment. Several of 
 the prisoners had leave to tarry here, but I must go two hun- 
 dred miles further down stream, to another Indian town. The 
 moving being extremely cold, I applied to a French merchant 
 or trader for some old rags of clothing, for I was almost naked, 
 but to no purpose. 
 
 About ten o'clock, I was ordered into a boat, to go down the 
 river, with eight or ninp Indians, one of whom was the man 
 wounded in the skirmish befc e mentioned.* At night we 
 went on shore ; the snov; being much deeper than before, we 
 cleared it away and made a large fire. Here, when the wound- 
 ed Indian cast his eyes upon me, his old grudge revived ; he 
 took my blanket from me and commanded me to dance round 
 the fire barefoot, and sing the prisoner s song, which I utterly 
 refused. This surprised one of my fellow-prisoners, who told 
 me they would put me ^ < dea-l , for he understood what they 
 said. He therefore tried to persuade me to comply, but I de- 
 sired him to let me alone, and was through great mercy enabled 
 to reject his importunity with abhorrence. This Indian also 
 continued urging, saying, you shall dance and sing ; but ap- 
 prehending my compliance sinful, I determined to persist in 
 declining it at all adventures, and leave the issue to the divine 
 disposal. The Ipdian, perceiving his orders disobeyed, was 
 fired with indignation, and endeavored to push me into thelRre, 
 which I leaped over, and he, being weak with his woutids, and 
 
 * The author probably refers to the time he was taken. — Ed 
 
 
ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 271 
 
 ' '-'i 
 
 the 
 
 we 
 ound- 
 he 
 round 
 tterly 
 I told 
 they 
 Ide- 
 abled 
 abo 
 ut ap- 
 ;ist in 
 divine 
 , was 
 e^re, 
 s, and 
 
 not being assisted by any of his brethren, was obliged to desist. 
 For this gracious interposure of Providence, in preserving me 
 both from sin and danger, I desire to bless God while I live. 
 
 Friday morning I was almost perished with cold. Saturday 
 we proceeded on our way, and soon came in sight of the upper 
 part of the inhabitants of Canada^ Here I was in great hopes 
 of some relief, not knowing the manner of the Indians, who 
 do not make many stops among the French in their return 
 from war till they get home. However, when they came neai 
 some rapid falls of water, one of my fellow-prisoners and several 
 Indians, together with myself, were put on shore to travel by 
 land, which pleased me well ; it being much warmer running 
 on the snow than to lie still in the batteau. We passed by 
 several French houses, but stopped at none ; the vessel going 
 down a rapid stream, it required haste to keep pace with her, 
 and we crossed over a point of land and found the batteau 
 waiting for us, as near the shore as the ice would permit. 
 Here we left the St. Lawrence and turned up Conasadauga 
 river, but it being frozen up, we hauled our batteau on shore, 
 and each of us took our share of her loading on our backs, and 
 marched towards Conasadauga, an Indian town, which was 
 our designed port, but could not reach it that night. We came 
 to a French house, cold, weary, and hungry. Here my old 
 friend, the wounded Indian, again appeared, and related to the 
 Frenchman the affair of my refusing to dance, who immedi- 
 ately assisted him to strip me of my flannel vest, which was 
 my all. Now they were resolved to compel me to dance and 
 sing. The Frenchman was as violent as the Indian in pro- 
 moting this imposition ; but the woman belonging to the house 
 seeing the rough usage I had, took pity on me and rescued me 
 out of their hands, till their heat was over, and prevailed with 
 the Indian to excuse me from dancing, but he insisted that I 
 must be shaved, and then he would let me alone. (I had at 
 that time a long beard, which the Indians hate.) With this 
 motion I readily complied, and then they seemed contented. 
 
 Sunday, April 11th, we set off towards Conasadauga, and 
 travelled about two hours, when we saw the town over a great 
 river, which was still frozen. The Indians stopped, and we 
 were soon joined with a number of our own company, which 
 we had not seen for several days. The prisoners, in number 
 eight, were ordered to lay down their packs, and be painted. 
 The wounded Indian painted me, and put a belt of wampum 
 rotfnd my neck, instead of the rope I had worn four hundred 
 miles. Then we set off for the town on the ice, which was 
 four miles over. Our heads were not allowed to be covered, 
 lest our fine paint should be hid, the weather in the, iQf {^ tinifi 
 
 f 
 
 ^i 
 
 1»;^ 
 
 I .'k 
 
 ,f!4l 
 
 ,*• • 
 
 i:fs% 
 
272 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 very cold, like to freeze our ears. After we had advanced 
 nearer to the town, the Indian women came out to meet us, and 
 relieved their husbands of their packs. 
 
 As soon as we landed at Conasadauga a large body of In- 
 dians came and encompassed us round, and ordered the prison- 
 ers to dance and sing the prisoner's song, (which I was still 
 enabled to decline.) At the conclusion they gave a shout, and: 
 opened the ring to let us run, and then fell on us with their 
 fists, and knocked several down. In the mean time, one ran 
 before to direct us to an Indian house which was open, and as 
 soon as we got in we were safe from beating. My head was 
 sore with bruises, and pained me several days. The squaws 
 were kind to us, gave us boiled corn and beans to eat, and fire 
 to warm us, which was a great mercy, for I was both cold and 
 hungry. This town lies about thirty miles north-west of Mont- 
 real. I staid here till the ice was gone, which was abou^ ten 
 days, and then was sent to Cohnewago, in company with some 
 Indians, who, when «hey came within hearing, gave notice by 
 their way of shouting that they had a prisoner, on which the 
 whole town rose to welcome me, which was the more distress- 
 ing as there was no other prisoner in their hands. When we 
 came near shore, a stout Indian took hold of me, and hauled 
 me into the water, which was knee deep, and very cold. As 
 soon as I got ashore the Indians gathered round me, ordered 
 me to dance and sing, although I was stiff with cold and wet, 
 and lying long in the cai oe. I only stamped to prepare for 
 my race, pnd Avas encompassed with about five hundred Indians, 
 who danced and sung, and at last gave a shout and opened the 
 circle. About one hundred and fifty Indian lads made ready 
 to pelt me with dirt and gravel-stones, and on my starting off 
 gave me a smart volley, but from which I did not suffer much 
 hurt An Indian seeing me running, met me, seized and held 
 me fast, till the boys had stored themselves again with small 
 stones, and then let me go. Now I fared much worse than 
 before, for a small stone among the mud hit my right eye, and 
 my head and face were so covered with the dirt that I could 
 scarce see my way ; but discovering the door of an Indian 
 house standing open, I ran in. From this retreat I was soon 
 dragged to be pelted more, but the Indiart women, being more 
 merciful, interposed, took me into a house, brought ,me water 
 to wash, and gjuve me boiled corn and beans to eat. The next 
 da*y I was brough^to the centre of the town and cried accord- 
 ing to the Indian custom, in order to be sent to a fiamiljPof 
 Indians two hundred miles up stream, at Oswegat<my, and 
 th^e to be adopted and labused no more. To this end I was 
 deliveieJ^ to three ^oung men, wha said I was their brother, 
 
 
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 *% 
 
 ^% 
 
ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 273 
 
 need 
 , and 
 
 f In- 
 ison- 
 jstiU 
 ;, and" 
 their 
 e ran 
 nd as 
 d was 
 ^uaws 
 id fire 
 id and 
 Mont- 
 )V' ten 
 1 some 
 lice by 
 ich the 
 istress- 
 hen we 
 hauled 
 ,d. As 
 ordered 
 nd wet, 
 )are for 
 ndians, 
 
 d the 
 
 ready 
 ting off 
 
 much 
 nd held 
 
 small 
 
 than 
 
 ye, and 
 
 I could 
 
 Indian 
 
 nee 
 
 h 
 
 se 
 
 and set forward on our way to the aforesaid town, with about 
 twenty more, but by reason of bad weather we were obliged 
 to encamp on a cold, stony shore three days, and then proceed- 
 ed on. We called at Conasadauga, staid there about a week, 
 in which time I went and viewed four houses at a distance 
 from the town, about a quarter of a mile from each other, in 
 which are represented in large paintings the sufTcrings of our 
 Savior, designed to draw the Indians to the papist's religion^ 
 The work is curiously done. A little further stand three 
 houses near together, on a high hill, which they call mount 
 Calvary, with three large crosses before them, which completes 
 the whole representation. To all these houses the papists and 
 Indians repair, in performing their grand processions, which 
 takes up much time. 
 
 The pains the papists take to propagate such a bloody reli- 
 gion is truly surprising ; and the zeal they employ to propagate 
 superstition and idolatry should make Protestants ashamed of 
 their lukewarmness. A priest asked me " if I was a Catho- 
 lic." I answered him, "no;" to which he replied, "no bon." 
 When I told a fellow-captive of this, he said by my answer 
 the priest understood that I was not a Christian. Shortly after 
 another asked me the same question, and I answered, " yes, 
 but not a Roman Catholic ;" but he too said " no bon ! no 
 bon ! " 
 
 We next set off on our journey for Oswegatchy, against a 
 rapid stream, and being long in it, and our provisions growing 
 short, the Indians put to shore a little before night. My lot 
 was to get wood, others were ordered to get fires, and some to 
 hunt. Our kettle was put over the fire with some pounded 
 Indian corn, and after it had boiled about two hours my oldest 
 Indian brother returned with a she beaver, big with young, 
 which he soon cut to pieces and threw into the kettle, together 
 with the guts, and took the four young beavers whole as they 
 were found in embryo, and put them likewise into the kettle, 
 and when all was well boiled, gave each of us a large dish full 
 of the broth, of which we eat freely, and then part of the old 
 beaver ; the tail of which was divided equally among us, there 
 being eight at oui fire. The four young beavers were cut in 
 the middle, and each of us got half a beaver. I watched for 
 an opportunity to hide my share, (having satisfied myself be- 
 fore that tender dish came to hand,) which if 4hey had seen 
 would have much displeased them.* The oilier Indians catc'h- 
 
 * The *%«ader will observe here a parallel cusiom to that in practice a 
 hundred years before among the Indians who^carried otf Stockwell. TJiey 
 compelled him to drink raccoon fat because he wished to ^ve ^ffiue of the 
 flesh of one for another time. See Stockw^'s Na^tive. — ^Ed^ # . * 
 
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 B 
 
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 11 
 
 
274 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 i 
 
 ed young muskrata, thrust a stick through their bodies, and 
 roasted it without skinniiij^ or dressing, and so eat them. Next 
 morning we hastened on our journey, which continued ser< rnl 
 days, 'ill we came near Oswegatchy, where we landed 'ihouf. 
 three miles from the town on the contrary side of the river. 
 Here I was to be adopted. My father and mother, whom I 
 had never seen before, were waiting, and ordered me into an 
 Indian house, where we were directed to sit down silent for a 
 considerable time. The Indians appeared very sad, and my 
 mother began to cry, and continued to cry aloud for some time, 
 and then dried up her tears and received me for her son, and 
 took me over the river to the Indian town. The next day I 
 was ordered to go to mass with them, but I refused once and 
 again ; yet they continued their importunities several days. 
 Seeing they could not prevail with me, they seemed much dis- 
 pleased with their new son. I was then sent over the river to 
 be employed in hard labor, as a punishment for not going to 
 mass, and not allowed a sight of or any conversation with my 
 fellow-prisoners. The old Indian man with whom I was 
 ordered to work had a wife and children. He took me 
 into the woods with him, and made signs for me to chop, and 
 he soon saw that I could handle the axe. Here I tried to rec- 
 oricile myself to th'- vimploy, that they might have no occasion 
 against me, except con.'-erning the law of my God. The old 
 man began to appear kind, and his wife gave me milk and 
 bread wheit we cauie home, and when she got fish, gave me 
 the gills to eat, out of real kindness; but perceiving I did not 
 like them, gave me my own choice, and behaved lovingly. 
 When we had finished our fence, which had employed us about 
 a week, I showed the old squaw my shirt, (having worn it from 
 the time I was first take^. prisoner, which was about seven 
 weeks,) all in rags, dirt and lice. She said it was not good, 
 and brought me a new one with ruffled sleeves, saying "that 
 is good," which I thankfully accepted. The next day they 
 carried me back to the Indian towi., and permitted me to con- 
 verse with my fellow-prisoners. They told me we were all to 
 be sent to Montreal, which accordingly came to pass. 
 
 On our arrival at Montreal we had our lodgings first in the 
 Jesuits' convent, where I saw a great number of priests and 
 people who came to confession. After some stay we were 
 ordered to attend with the Indians in a grand council, held 
 before the head gerieraU^yaudreuil. ^e prisoners sat in iour 
 rank, (surrounded with ^^r fathers ^nd brethren,) but were 
 asked no que^ioA?rv 5"^®^^ '^'sneral ^^ad-a tium^er* of officers to 
 attend him irf^<j||ft[n1iyr, wh fjriest," called Picket, sat 
 
 at bi^ right hofra^who und@rs|antf!s *4he Indian tongue well. 
 
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 eacr 
 
they 
 
 . in the 
 ists and 
 ire were 
 il, held 
 t in pur 
 ut were 
 
 cers to 
 ;ket, sat 
 
 e well. 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 275 
 
 h families 
 
 under- 
 
 nier mur- 
 
 ui ( ailed, before 
 
 and does more hurt to the English than any other of his order 
 in Cimada. His dwelling is at Oswegatchy. Here I was in- 
 formed that some measures wore concerted to destroy Oswego, 
 which had been long in agitation. We mot on our journey 
 manybatteaux going up stream, with provision and men for an 
 attack on our frontiers, which confirmed the report. The 
 council adjourned to another day, and then broke up. My 
 Indian father and mother took me with th'>m to several of their 
 old acquaintance's, who were French, to show ''"in their lately 
 adopted son. These persons had been cc led with my 
 father and other Indians in destroying mw 
 in their younger days, and, (as one slan'i 
 stood their language said,) were boasting o 
 ders ! After some days the council was a 
 which several of the Oneida chiefs appeared and ofFered some 
 complaints against the French's attacking our carrying place, 
 it being their land. But the general labored to make them 
 easy, and gave them sundry presents of value, which they 
 accepted. The French are exceedingly careful to prevent 
 spirituous liquors being sold among the Indians, and if any 
 inhabitant is proved guilty of it, their temporal interest is quite 
 broken, and corporal punishment is inflicted on such offenders. 
 Herein the French are vastly superior to us. The Indians do 
 not fear our numbers, (which they deride,) because of our un- 
 happy divisions, in consequence of which they expect to con- 
 quer us entirely. 
 
 Knowing these Oneidas were acquainted with Capt. Wil- 
 liams, at the carrying place, I sent a letter by them to let my 
 family and friends know that I was yet alive, and lodged for 
 redemption ; but it never came to hand. The treaty being 
 ended, the generrJ sent about ten gallons of red wine to the 
 Indians, which iKey divided among us. Afterwards came the 
 presents, consisting of coats, blankets, shirts, skins, (to make 
 Indian shoes,) cloth, (for stockings,) powder, lead-shot, and to 
 each a bag of paint for their own use, &c. 
 
 After we prisoners had our share my mother came to me 
 with an interpreter, and told me I might stay in the town at a 
 place she had found for me, if I pleased. This proposal I 
 almost agreed to, but one of my fellow-prisoners, with whom I 
 had had before some discourse about making our escape, op- 
 posed the motion, and said, " Pray do not stay, for, if you do, 
 we shall not be. able, to form a plan for our deliverance." So 
 I told her I chose to g», home with.?:^her, and . soon set off by 
 land, in bur Wav«thithejp, to Lascli^e^ ^^^t. frtm Montreal 
 about nine miles.^ Hefe we left out^j^anO^^ .and proceeded 
 without delay on our jovirjUiey,^ in wKick I ^pqnrj^jo niy s»rcow, 
 
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 great numbers of soldiers and much provisions in motion 
 towards lake Ontario. After a painful and distressing jour* 
 ney, we arrived at Oswegatchy, where we likewise saw many 
 batteaux, with provisions and soldiers, daily passing by in their 
 way to Frontenac, which greatly distressed me for Oswego. 
 Hence I resolved, if possible, to give our people notice of their 
 danger. To this end, I told two of my felfow-prisoners that 
 it was not a time to sleep, and asked them if they would go 
 with me, to which they heartily agreed. But we had no pro- 
 vision, and were closely eyed by the enemy, so that we could not 
 lay up a stock out of our allowance. However, at this time, 
 Mr. Picket had concluded to dig a large trench round the 
 town. I therefore went to a negro, the principal manager of 
 this work, (who could speak English, French, and Indian 
 well,) and asked him if he could get employ for two others 
 and myself, which he soon did. For this service we were 
 to have meat, [board,] and wages. Here we had a prospect 
 of procuring provision for our flight. This, after some time, I 
 obtained for myself, and then asked my brethren if they were 
 ready. They said '* they wefi not yet, but that Ann Bow- 
 man (our fellow*prisoner) had brought one hundred and thirty 
 dollars from Bull's fort, [when it was destroyed, as has been 
 telated,] and would give them all they needed." 1 told them 
 it was not safe to disclose such a secret to her, but they blamed 
 me for entertaining such fears, and applied to her for provi- 
 sions, letting her know our intention. She immediately in- 
 formed the priest of it ! We were forthwith apprehended, the 
 Indians informed of it, and a court called. Four of us were 
 ordered by this court to be confined in a room, under a strong 
 guard, within the fort, for several days. From hence, another 
 and myself were sent to Cohnewago, under a strong guard of 
 sixty Indians, to prevent my plotting any more against the 
 French, and to banish all hope of my escape ! *- 
 
 When we arrived at this place, it pleased God to incline the 
 captain of the guard to show me great kindness in giving me 
 liberty to walk or work where I pleased, within any small dis- 
 tance. I went to work with a French smith for six livres and 
 five souF per week. This sum the captain let me have to my- 
 self, and further favored me with the privilege of lodging at 
 his mother's house, (an English woman named Mary Harris, 
 taken captive when a child from Deerfield, in New England,) 
 'who told me she was my grandmother, and was kind; but 
 the wages being small, and hot sufficient to procure such cloth- 
 ing as I was fn want of, I proceeded no fafther wllh the smith, 
 but wenV to rhv Hp4^ Peter, and told him I wanted clothes, 
 luidaUuit it woaid M I 
 
 
 
 
 |e reter, and told mm i wanted clotnes, 
 blttei;; to \^ jaL% go to Montreal, and work 
 
 
 & 
 
ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 277 
 
 the 
 
 f. 
 
 there, where I could clothe myself better than by staying with 
 him. He after some reasoning consented. 
 
 I set off on my journey to Montreal, and on my entering the 
 city, met an English smith, who took me to work with him. 
 After some time we settled to work in a shop opposite the 
 general's door, where we had an opportunity of seeing a great 
 part of the forces of Canada, both French and Indians, who 
 were commonly brought there before their going out to war, 
 and likewise all prisoners. By this means we got intelligence 
 how our people were preparing for defence ; but no good news 
 from Oswego, which made me fear, knowing that great num- 
 bers of French had gone out against it, and hearing there were 
 but few to defend it. 
 
 Prayers were put up in all the churches of Canada, and 
 great processions made, in order to procure success to their 
 arms against poor Oswego ; but our people knew little of their 
 danger till it was too late. For, to my surprise, the dismal 
 news came that the French had taken one of the Oswego forts. 
 In a few hours, in confirmation of this news, I saw the Eng- 
 lish standards, the melancholy trophies of victory, and the 
 French rejoicing at our downfall, and mocking us, poor pri- 
 soners, in our exile and extremity, which was no great argu- 
 ment either of humanity or true greatness of mind. Great 
 joy appeared in all their faces, which they expressed in loud 
 shouts, firing of cannon, and returning thanks in their churches. 
 But our faces were covered with shame, and our hearts filled 
 with grief!* 
 
 Soon after, I saw several of the officers brought in prisoners 
 in small parties, and soldiers in the same manner, who were 
 confined within the wallj [of the fort] in a starving condition, 
 in order to make them work, which some complied with, while 
 others bravely refused ; and last of all came the tradesmen, 
 among whom \#kis my son, who, looking round, saw me, to his 
 great surprise, for he had supposed I was dead. This joyful 
 sight so affected him that he wept ; nor could I refrain from 
 the expression of a father's tenderness, in the same kind, upon 
 so extraordinary an occasion ; it was far more than I can dis- 
 close in writing, and therefore must cover it with a veil of 
 silence. But he, with all my Philadelphia friends^ being 
 guarded by soldiers, with fixed bayonets, we could not come 
 near each other. They were sent to the common pound, but 
 I hastened to the interpreter to try to get my son set at liberty, 
 which was soon effected. When we had the happii^^s of an 
 interview, he gave me some information of the stnte ^ our 
 
 • Oswegowas taken July l^tb, 1756, and t|0#Biic^ tMlIn^ 
 
 '*,. 
 
 #v'5> 
 
 ■0 
 
 • 
 
 prisoners. — Ed. 
 
 34 
 
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 Ur 
 
 
 
 
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 278 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 **.. 
 
 family, and told me that, as soon as the news reached home 
 that 1 was killed or taken, his mother was not allowed any 
 further wages of mine, which grieved me much, and added to 
 my other afflictions. 
 
 In the mean time it gave me some pleasure in this situation 
 to see an expression of equal affection and prudence in my 
 son's conduct, who, though young in years, (about seventeen,) 
 that he, in such a confused state of things, had taken care to 
 bring, with much labor and fatigue, a large bundle, of consi- 
 derable value to me, of clothing, &c., '^f which I was in great 
 need. He likewise saved a quaniiiy of wampum which we 
 brought from New York, and afterwards sold it here for one 
 hundred and fifty livres. He travelled with me part of the 
 journey towards Oswego, but not being so far on his way as 
 I was when taken, did not fall into the enemy's hands until 
 that place was taken. At that time he was delivered in a 
 remarkable manner from a wretched captivity among distant 
 Indians. His escape was in this manner : fifteen young white 
 prisoners were selected out to be delivered into their power, 
 who, from a well-known custom among the Indians, there was 
 no doubt, were to supply the places of those they had lost in 
 the war. Of this number was my son. The French artfully 
 concealed their destination, and pretended they were designed 
 to labor in the batteaux. My son, seeing that most of the 
 selection were small lads, doubted their pretensions, for they 
 were not equal to such performance. Watching his opportu- 
 nity, he slipped from his place in the ranks unnoticed, and lay 
 concealed until his place was filled by another. The other 
 unhappy youths were delivered up a sacrific > the Indian 
 enemy, to be instructed in popish principles, p e employed 
 in murdering their countrymen, yea, perhaps, iheir own fa- 
 thers, mothers, and brethren ! O horrib'e ! O lamentable ! 
 
 The insatiable thirst of the French for empire* is height- 
 ened, doubtless, from the pardons they receive from the pope 
 and their priests, [as will appear from the following facts :] 
 : On a Sabbath day I went to see what was the occasion of a 
 great concourse of people at a chapel. I found a kind of fair, 
 at which were sold cakes, wine, brandy, &c. Numbers of 
 people were going in and out of the chapel, over the door of 
 which was a board hanging, and on it was written, in large 
 capita^ letters, " Indulgence plenary, or full pardon." To return 
 to my narrative. 
 
 ''% 
 
 »jW(f. <• 
 
 -ti'*' 
 
 * The author wished probably to convey the idea that the French might 
 
 ' commit any crimes in the acquisiition ol' empire, without fear of future 
 
 wpunkhment, so long as ^ey availed themselves of absolution, which it 
 
 jk^ i^pears, from his next pmgraphi wasureiy prominently held fortu — Ed. 
 
 
 
 ♦• ♦ 
 
 
 :^' 
 
 i> ,jt- 
 
ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 279 
 
 might 
 
 future 
 
 ?hich it 
 
 -Ed. 
 
 When the people taken at Oswego were setting out on their 
 way to Quebec, I made application for liberty to go with them, 
 but the interpreter said I was an Indian prisoner, and the 
 general would not suffer it till the Indians were satisfied ; and 
 as they lived two hundred miles from Montreal, it could not 
 be done at that time. Finding that all arguments on that 
 head would not avail, because I was not included in the capitu- 
 lation, I told the interpreter my son must go and leave me, 
 to be ready at Quebec to go home when the Oswego people 
 went, which probably would be soon. He replied, " It would 
 be better to keep him with me, for it might be a mean to get 
 me clear much sooner." 
 
 The officers belonging to Oswego would gladly have had 
 me with them, but found it impracticable. This was an in- 
 stance of kindness and condescension for which I was greatly 
 obliged. Capt. Bradley gave me a good coat, vest, and shirt, 
 and a young gentleiiian, who formerly lived in Philadelphia, 
 (by name James Stone, doctor at Oswego,) gave me four pis- 
 toles. These expressions of kindness I remember with grati- 
 tude, and, if ever in my power, will requite. This money, 
 with what my son brought me, I was in hopes would go far 
 towards procuring my release from my Indian masters. But 
 seeing a number of prisoners in sore distress, among whom ' 
 were Capt. Grant and Capt. Shepherd, and about seven more 
 in company, I thought it my duty to relieve them, and commit 
 my release to the disposal of Providence, nor was this suffered 
 to turn to my disadvantage in the issue, for my deliverance 
 was brought about in due time, in another and unexpected 
 way. This company informed me of their intention to escape ; 
 accordingly I gave them all the help in my power, saw them 
 clear of the town on a Saturday evening, before the sentries 
 were set at the gates, and advised them not to part from each 
 other, and delivered to Capt. Shepherd two pocket compasses ; 
 but, contrary to this counsel, they parted, and saw each other 
 no more. By their separating, Captain Grant and Sergeant 
 Newel were deprived of the benefit of a compass ; the others got 
 safe to fort William Henry, as I was informed by Sergeant Hen- 
 ry, who was brought in prisoner, being taken in a battle, wheii | 
 the gallant and indefatigable Capt. Rogers made a brave stand * 
 against more than twice his number.* But I have not heard .. 
 
 ■li 
 
 J 
 
 ■it 
 
 •?..' 
 
 * A « 
 
 * About the 21st of May, 1756, Capt. Rogers, with only eleven men, am* 
 bushed the carrying place between lakes George and Champlain, fired on 
 a pany of twenty-two Frenchmen, and killed six. He had let another 
 party of 118 men pass only "a few minutes before," who immediately ,^ \ ,, 
 returned and rescued the others, and obliged the English to fly. Rogers * ■"' 
 
 4i«. 
 
 says nothing about having any of his men talBn, but took one himSeif.3 i'*^ ' > 
 
 Sogers' Jourrhd.^Ei. iT ^ ^«ft ^^♦#i^*'i 
 
 '. ¥ 
 
T|^[5S_t -—. J 
 
 280 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ■4 
 
 
 any account of Capt. Grant. I was enabled, through much 
 mercy, to continue communicating relief to other prisoners out 
 of the wages I received for my labors, which was forty livres 
 per month. 
 
 In the latter part of winter, coal and iron were so scarce 
 that it was difficult to get work. I then offered to work for 
 my board, rather than to be thrust into a stinking dungeon, or 
 sent among the Indians. The interpreter took some pains, 
 which I thankfully acknowledge, without success, in my behalf. 
 However, as I offered to work without wages, a Frenchman 
 took me and my son in upon these terms. Here we staid one 
 week, and hearing of no other chance, our employer offered us 
 thirty livres a month to blow the bellows and strike, which I 
 did for about two months, and then was discharged, and 
 travelled about, from place to place, having no fixed abode. 
 In this dilemma I was obliged to spend my little earnings for 
 food to live upon, and my lodging was the hay-loft. I then 
 made my case known to the kind interpreter, and requested 
 him to consider of some means for my relief. He said he 
 would. 
 
 Meanwhile, as I was taking a walk in the city, I met an 
 Indian prisoner [a prisoner among them] that belonged to the 
 town where my father lived. He reported that a great part of 
 the Indians there had just airived with the resolution to carry 
 iiae back with them ; and knowing him to be a very honest 
 fellow, I believed him, and fled from .he town, and concealed 
 myself from the Indians. Schemes were now formed for an 
 escape, and well prosecuted to a fortunate issue. General 
 Vaudreuil gave me and my son liberty (under his hand) to go 
 to Quebec, and to work there at our pleasure, without confine- 
 ment, as prisoners of war. By this means I was freed from 
 paying a ransom. 
 
 The commissary. Monsieur Portwee, [?] being about to set 
 off* for Quebec, my son informed me I must come to town in 
 the evening, a passage being provided for us. I waited till near 
 dark, and then entered the town with great caution, to escape 
 the .Indians, who kept watch for me, and had done so for some 
 time, which made it very difficult and dangerous to move ; but 
 as they had no knowledge of my son, he could watch their 
 motions without suspicion. In the morning, upon seeing an 
 Indian set to watch for me over against the hpuse I was in, I 
 quickly maie my escape through the baiJk part of the house, 
 over- afime high pickets, and so out of the city to the river-side, 
 anil fled. A friend, knowing my scheme for deliverance, 
 kindly assisted rae to^conceal myself. The commissary had 
 pfow got ready for his#oyage, of which my son gave me no- 
 
 
 
 ^\ - 
 
to set 
 ^n in 
 near 
 scape 
 Isome 
 but 
 1 their 
 ^gan 
 in, 1 
 ^ouse, 
 -side, 
 tance, 
 had 
 ie no- 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 281 
 
 tice. With no lingering motion I repaired to the boat, was 
 received on board, got off undiscovered, and saw the Indians 
 no more ! A very narr jw and surprising escape from a violent 
 death ! for they had determined to kill me if ever I attempted 
 to leave them. 
 
 I arrived at Quebec May 1st. The honorable Col. Peter 
 Schuyler, hearing of my coming there, kindly sent for me, and 
 after inquiries about my welfare generously told me I should 
 be supplied, and need not trouble myself for support. This 
 public-spirited gentleman, who is indeed an honor to his coun- 
 try, did in like manner nobly relieve many other poor prisoners 
 at Quebec. Here I' had full liberty to walk where I pleased 
 to view the city, which is well situated for strength, but far 
 from being impregnable. 
 
 Here, I hope, it will not be judged improper to give a short 
 hint of the French governor's conduct. Even in time of peace 
 he gives the Indians great encouragement to murder and cap- 
 tivate the poor inhabitants on our frontiers.* An honest good 
 man, named William Ross, was taken prisoner twice in time 
 of peace. When he was first taken he learned a little of the 
 French language, was afterwards redeemed, and got to his 
 place of abode. Some years after, he, with two sons, was again 
 taken, and brought to Quebec. The governor seeing the poor 
 man was lame, and that one of his legs was smaller than the 
 other, reproved the Indians for not killing him, asking them 
 " what they brought a lame man there for who could do 
 nothing but eat! You should have brought his scalp!" 
 However, another of his countrymen, more merciful than his 
 excellency, knowing the poor prisoner to be a quiet, hard- 
 working man, redeemed him from the Indians, and two other 
 Frenchmen bought his two sons. Here they had been slaves 
 more than three years when I first arrived at Quebec. This 
 account I had from Mr. Ross himself, who further added, that 
 the governor gave the Indians presents to encourage them to 
 proceed in that kind of work, which is a scandal to any civil- 
 ized nation, and what many pagans would abhor. Here, also, 
 I saw one Mr. Johnson, who was taken in a time of peace, 
 with his wife and three small children. A fourth was borii on 
 the way, whom Mrs. Johnson named Captive.t All of these 
 had been prisoners between three and four years. Several 
 
 * The author certainly discovers great care for veracity in the course 
 of his narrative, but he may have erred here. We hope he has.— 4Bd. 
 
 f On Mrs. Johnson's return out of captivity-Ohe had published a very 
 fall and excellent account of it, which has sDne through at least few 
 editions since 1796. The last (l^well, 1834) »||pite imperfect.— Ed. 
 
 •#• 
 
 
 »► 
 
 t 
 
 ^ 
 
288 
 
 ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 young men, and Mr. Johnson's wife's sister, were likewise 
 taken with them, and made slaves. 
 
 Our cartel being ready, I obtained liberty to go to England 
 in her. We set sail the 23d of July, 1757, in the morning, 
 and discharged our pilot about four o'clock in the afternoon. 
 After that we neither cast anchor nor lead till we got clear of 
 the great river St. Lawrence ; from which I conclude the navi- 
 gation to be much safer than the French have reported. In 
 28 days we arrived at Plymouth, which occasioned great joy 
 [to as], for we were ragged, lousy, sick, and in a manner 
 starved ; and many of the prisoners, (who were in all about 
 three hundred,) were sick of the small-pox. Myself and son 
 having each a blanket coat, (which we bought in Canada to 
 keep us warm,) and now expecting relief, gave them to poor 
 sick men, almost naked. We were not allowed to go on 
 shore, but were removed to a king's ship, and sent to Ports- 
 mouth, where we were still confined on board near two weeks, 
 and then removed to the Mermaid, to be sent to Boston. We 
 now repented our well-meant though rash charity in giving 
 our coats away, as we were not to get any more ; all applica- 
 tions to the captain for any kind of covering being in vain. 
 Our joy was turned into sorrow at the prospect of coming on a 
 cold coast, in the beginning of winter, almost naked, which was 
 not a little increased by a near view of our mother country ; 
 the soil and comforts of which we were not suffered to touch 
 or taste.* 
 
 "September the 6th we sailed for Boston, with a fleet in con- 
 voy, at which we arrived on the 7th of November, in the 
 evening. It being dark, and we strangers and poor, it was dif- 
 ficult to get a lodging. I had no shoes, and but pieces of 
 stockings, and the weather very cold. We were indeed 
 directed to a tavern, but found cold entertainment there ; the 
 master of the house, seeing a ragged and lousy company, 
 turned us out to wander in the dark. He was suspicious of 
 us, and feared we came from Halifax, where the small-pox 
 then was, and told us he was ordered not to receive such as 
 came from thence. We soon met a young man who said he 
 could find lodgings for us, but still detained us by asking 
 many questions. I told him we were in no condition to 
 answer them till we came to a more comfortable place, which 
 
 * Such barbarous treatment of poor i)risoners, by.a government like 
 
 that of England, who had hazarded their lives in its cause, is almost 
 
 . incredible. Thus brutes might treat men, but men will not deal so •wiih 
 
 men. A miserable old cartel hulk may contain germs destined to shake 
 
 the>Uirones of tyrants. — Ed. 
 
 1. * 
 
 «• 
 
ROBERT EASTBURN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 283 
 
 con- 
 the 
 dif- 
 of 
 eed 
 the 
 
 -pox 
 as 
 he 
 king 
 in to 
 rhich 
 
 t like 
 ilmost 
 with 
 shake 
 
 he quickly found, where we were used well ; but as we were 
 lousy, we could not expect beds. 
 
 The next morning we made application for clothing. Mr. 
 Erving, son-in-law to the late General Shirley, gave us relief, 
 not only in respect of apparel, but also three dollars per man, 
 to bear our charges to Newport. When I put on fresh clothes 
 I was seized with a cold lit, which was followed by a high 
 fever, and in that condition obliged to travel on foot as far as 
 Providence, in our way to Rhode Island. In this journey I 
 was exceedingly distressed. Our comforts in this life are often 
 embittered with miseries, which are doubtless great mercies 
 when they are suitably improved. At Newport we met with 
 Captain Gibbs, and agreed with him for our passage to New 
 York, where we arrived, November 21st, and met with many 
 friends, who expressed much satisfaction at our return, and 
 treated us kindly, particularly Mr. Livingston and Mr. Wal- 
 dron. 
 
 November the 26th, 1757, I arrived at Philadelphia, to the 
 great joy of all my friends, and particularly of my poor afflicted 
 wife and family, who thought they should never see me again, 
 till we met beyond the grave. Being returned, sick and weak 
 in body, and empty-handed, not having any thing for mj'^ fam- 
 ily's and my own support, several humane and generous per- 
 sons, of different denominations, in this city, without any appli- 
 cation of mine, have freely given seasonable relief For 
 which may God grant them blessings in this world, and in the 
 world to come everlasting life, for Christ's sake ! 
 
 But to hasten to the conclusion, suffer me with humility 
 and sorrow to observe that our enemies seem to make a V-tter 
 use of a bad religion than we do of a good one. They i sno 
 up long before day in winter and go through the snow in 
 the coldest seasons to perform their devotions in the churches. 
 When these are over they return, to be ready for their work 
 as soon as daylight appears. The Indians are as zealous in 
 religion as the French. They oblige their children to pray_ 
 morning and evening, particularly at Canasadauga. .Mi 
 
 Our case appears to me indeed gloomy, notwithstanding our 
 enemies are inconsiderable in numbers, compared with us ; yet 
 they are united as one man, while we may justly be compared 
 to a house divided against itself, and therefore cannot stand 
 long in our present situation. May Almighty God graciously 
 incline us to look4o him for deliverance, to repent of oipr sins, 
 reform our lives, and unite in the vigorous and manly use of 
 all proper means to this end. Amen. ^^ ,; :s,^ V^^ 
 
 .,♦- 
 
 •% 
 
 
 ,' i.''.s'^,»'< 
 
 ffaSi!*'. 
 
 % 
 
 
 *s 
 
884 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE DESTRUCTION OP THE SETTLEMENT OP GREEN- 
 BRIER, VIRGINIA, TOGETHER WITH THE CAPTURE AND 
 SURPRISING CONDUCT OF MRS. CLENDENIN, WHO WAS 
 AMONG THOSE WHO ESCAPED THE TOMAHAWK OP THEf 
 INDIANS AT THAT MASSACRE. 
 
 [Whether the following narrative was ever in print, except as it stands 
 in Mr. Martin's Gazetteer of Virginia, I have never learned. It would seem 
 from the following note accompanying it in that work, "that it was 
 extracted from memoirs of Indian wars on the western frontiers of Vir- 
 ginia, communicated to the Philosophical Society of Virginia, by Charles 
 A. Stuart, 'Esq., of Augusta Co."— Ed.] 
 
 d^ 
 
 
 '#• 
 
 ft 
 After peace was confirmed between England and France in 
 
 the year 1761, the Indians commenced hostilities in 1763,* 
 
 when all the inhabitants in Greenbrier were totally cut off by 
 
 a party of Indians, headed by the chief warrior Cornstalk.t 
 
 The principal settlements were on Muddy Creek. These 
 
 Indians, in number about sixty, introduced tnemselves into the 
 
 people's houses under the mask of friendship, where every 
 
 civility was offered them by the people, providing thern yith 
 
 * Hostilities had not ceased between the whites and the Indians, as will 
 be seen by a reference to the Chronicles of the Iin>iANs for this and the 
 preceding years. — Ed. 
 
 fThfi life and barbarous death'of this great chief are given at length 
 in the Book of thr Indians, v. 42, 44.— Ed. 
 
 ^•*8;s; 
 
 -^' 
 
MRS. CLENDENIN'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 285 
 
 kvery 
 
 mil 
 kdthe 
 
 ength 
 
 victuals and other accommodations for their entertainment, 
 when, on a sudden, they fall upon and kill the m^n, and mako 
 prisoners of the women and children. From thence they 
 passed over into the Levels, where some families were collected 
 at the house of Archibald Glendenin, where the Honorable 
 Balard Smith now lives. , There were between fifty and one 
 hundred persons, men, women and children. There the 
 Indians were entertained, as nt Muddy Creek, in the most hos* 
 pitable manner. Mr. Clendenin had just arrived from a hunt, 
 with three fat elks, upon which they were feasted in a boun- 
 tiful manner. 
 
 In the mean time an old woman, with a sore leg, was show* 
 ing her distress to an Indian, and inquiring if he could admin- 
 ister to her any relief. He said he thought he could, and 
 drawing his tomahawk, instantly killed her, and all the men, 
 almost, that were in the house. One, named Conrad Yolkom, 
 only escaped. He, being at some distance from the house, was 
 alarmed by the cries and shrieks of the women and children, 
 fled with all his might to Jackson's river, and alarmed the peo- 
 ple there. They however were loath to believe his tale until 
 they saw the Indians approaching. All fled before them ; and 
 they pursued on to Carr's Creek, in Rockbridge county, where 
 many families were killed and taken by them. At Clendenin's 
 a scene of much cruelty was performed, not only by the Indians, 
 but some such as the terrors of their approach influenced thereto. 
 In this I refer to an act committed by a negro woman, who in 
 escaping from the Indians killed her own child, whose cries 
 she had reason to fear would lead to her capture ! 
 
 Mrs. Clendenin did not fail to abuse the Indians with her 
 tongue, with the most reproachful epithets she could command, 
 although the tomahawk was brandishing at the same moment 
 overhead ; but instead of bringing it down upon her, the less 
 eflfectual means of silencing her clamors was resorted to, 
 namely, lashing her in the face and eyes with the bleeding 
 scalp of her dead husband ! 
 
 The provisions were all taken over to Muddy Creek, and a 
 party of Indians retained them there till the return of the oth- 
 ers from Carr's Creek, when the whole were marched off to- 
 gether. On the day they started from the foot of Kenney's 
 Knob, going over the mountain, Mrs. Clendenin gave her 
 infant child to another female prisoner, to carry, to relieve 
 her for a few paces, and in a few moments after, a favorable 
 opportunity ofTering for escape, she' improved it with such, 
 alacrity into a dense thicket which they were at the time pass- 
 ing, that not an Indian saw her or could tell which way she 
 went. The opportunity was rendered more favorable by the 
 
 \\ 
 
 r.» 
 
 1^ 
 
 • 
 
 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 t. 
 
 *4 ** • 
 
 *^ 
 
I ' I 
 
 286 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Ji 
 
 manner in which the Indians at the time were marching 
 They had placed the prisoners in the centre, and dividinff 
 themselves into two companies, one marched before them and 
 the other followed in their rear, having each flank open, and 
 this gave her the desired chance of escape. 
 
 It was not until all had left the place that the cries of Mrs. 
 Clendenin's child caused the Indians to inquire for its mother. 
 When they found she had made her escape, a monster Indian 
 observed " he would bring the cow to her calf," and taking the 
 infant by the heels, dashed out its brains against a tree ! and 
 as though this was not enough, the miscreant throwing it down 
 into the van, the whole company marched over it, the hoofs of 
 the horses tearing out its bowels, and the feet of the Indians 
 tracked the ground as they went with its blood ! 
 
 Mrs. Clendenin returned that night to her own house, a dis- 
 tance of more than ten miles. Here she found her husband's 
 dead body, which she covered with rails. She found him as 
 he had been killed, with one of his children in his arms. He 
 was shot down as he was making his escape over a fence. 
 She now returned to her friends ; and thus ends the remark- 
 able, though short captivity of a woman, more to be admired 
 for her courage than some other qualities not less desirable in 
 the female character. 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE CAPTIVITY OF ALEXANDER HENRY, ESQ., WHO, IN 
 THE TIME OF PONTIAK'S WAR, FELL INTO THE HANDS OP 
 THE HURON INDIANS. DETAILING A FAITHFUL ACCOUNT 
 OF THE CAPTURE OF THE GARRISON OF MICHILIMACKI- 
 NAC, AND THE MASSACRE OF ABOUT NINETY PEOPLE.- 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. ^0^, 
 
 [Mr. Henry was an Indian trader in America for about sixteen years. 
 He came to Canada with the army of General Amherst, ana pre- 
 vious to his being made prisoner by the Indians experienced a variety of 
 fortune. His narrative, as will be seen, is written with great candor as 
 well as ability, and to the discriminating reader needs no encomium. 
 He was living in Montreal in 1809, as appears from the date of his pre- 
 face to his Travels, which he published in New York that year, with a dedi- 
 cation to Sir Joseph Banks. — Ed.] 
 
 When I reached Michilimackinac I found several other 
 traders, who had arrived before me, from different parts of the 
 country, an^ who, in geneiail, declared the dispositions of the 
 Indians to be hostile to the English, and even apprehended 
 
 ?V 
 
 ■M 
 
 -*, 
 
 ^iv 
 
 tL 
 
 *Nft.. 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 S87 
 
 J ears, 
 pre- 
 Iriety of 
 lidoT as 
 pmium. 
 tis pre- 
 a dedi- 
 
 other 
 lof the 
 lof the 
 tended 
 
 some attack. M. Laurent Ducharme distinctly informed 
 Major Etherington that a plan was absolutely conceived 
 for destroying him, his garrison and all the lilnglish in the 
 upper couiitry ; but the commandant believing this and other 
 reports to be without foundation, proceeding only from idle or 
 ill-disposed persons, and of a tendency to do mischief, express- 
 ed much displeasure against M. Ducharme, and threatened to 
 send the next person who should bring a story of the same 
 kind, a prisoner, to Detroit. 
 
 The garrison, at this time, consisted of ninety privates, two 
 subalterns and the commandant ; and the English merchants 
 at the fort were four in number. Thus strong, few entertained 
 anxiety concerning the Indians, who had no weapons but small 
 arms. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Indians, from every luarter, were daily 
 assembling, in unusual numbers, but with t "ery appearance of 
 friendship, frequenting the fort, and disposing of their peltries, 
 in such a manner as to dissipate almost ever) one's fears. For 
 myself, on one occasion, I took the liberty of observing to 
 Major Etherington that, in my judgment, no confidence ought 
 to be placed in them, and that I was informed no less than four 
 hundred lay around the fort. 
 
 In return the major only rallied me on my timidity ; and it 
 is to be confessed that if this officer neglected admonition, on 
 his part, so did I on mine. Shortly after my first arrival at 
 Michilimackinac, in the preceding year, a Chippeway, named 
 Wawatam, began to come often to my house, betraying in his 
 demeanor strong marks of personal regard. After this had 
 continued some time, he came on a certain day, bringing with 
 him his whole family, and at the same time a large present, 
 consisting of skins, sugar and dried meat. Having laid these 
 in a heap, he commenced a speech, in which he informed me 
 that some years before he had observed a fast, devoting him- 
 self, according to the custom of his nation, to solitude, and to 
 the mortification of his body, in the hope to obtain, from the 
 Great Spirit, protection through all his days; that on this 
 occasion he had dreamed of adopting an Englishman as his 
 son, brother and friend ; that from the moment in which he 
 first beheld me he had recognised me as the person whom the 
 Great Spirit had been pleased to point out to him for a brother^v 
 that he hoped that I would not refuse his present ; and that he " 
 should forever regard me as one of his family. 
 
 I could do no otherwise than accept the present, and declare 
 my willingness to have so good a man as this appealed to be for 
 my friend and brother. I offered a present in return for that 
 which I had received, which Wawatam accepted, and then» . 
 
 \% 
 
 >-», 
 
r 
 
 288 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 I 
 
 thanking me for the favor which he said that I had rendered 
 him, he left me, and soon after set out on his winter's hunt. 
 
 Twelve months had now elapsed since the occurrence of this 
 incident, and I had almost forgotten the person of my brother, 
 when, on the second day of June, Wawatam came again to 
 my house, in a temper of mind visibly melancholy and 
 thoughtful. He told me that he had just returned from his 
 winteri?ig ground, and I asked after his health ; but without 
 answering my question, he went on to say, that he was sorry 
 to find me returned from the Sault ; that he intended to go to 
 that place himself, immediately after his arrival at Michili- 
 mackinac ; and that he wished me to go there along with him 
 and his family the next morning. To all this he joined an 
 inquiry, whether or not the commandant had heard bad news, 
 adding that during the vv inter he had himself been frequently 
 disturbed with the noise of evil birds ; and further suggesting 
 that there were numerous Indians near the fort, many of whom 
 had never shown themselves within it. Wawatam was about 
 forty-five years of age, of an excellent character among his 
 nation, and a chief. 
 
 Referring much of what I heard to the peculiarities of the 
 Indian character, I did not pay all the attention which they 
 will be found to have deserved to the entreaties and remarks of 
 my visitor. I answered that I could not think of going to the 
 Sault so soon as the next morning, but would follow him 
 there after the arrival of my clerks. Finding himself unable 
 to prevail with me, he withdrew for that day ; but early the 
 next morning he came again, bringing with him his wife, 
 and a present of dried meat. At this interview.- after stating 
 that he had several packs of beaver, for which he intended to 
 deal with me, he expressed a second time his apprehensions, 
 from the numerous Indians who were round the fort, and ear- 
 nestly pressed me to consent to an immediate departure for the 
 Sault. As a reason for this particular request, he assured me 
 that all the Indians proposed to come in a body, that day, to 
 the fort, to demand liquor of the commandant, and that he 
 wished me to be gone before they should ^row intoxicated. 
 
 I had made, at the period to which I am now referring, so 
 much progress in the language in whicii Wawatam addressed 
 me, as to be able to hold an ordinary conversation in it ; but 
 the Indian manner of speech is so extravagantly figurative that it 
 is only for a perfect master to follow and comprehend it entirely. 
 Had I been further advanced in this respect, I think that I 
 should haye gathered so much information, from this my 
 friendly monitor, as would have put me into possession of the 
 design of the enemy, and enabled me to save as well others as 
 
 ■M 
 
 hf^- 
 
 m 
 

 )f the 
 they 
 •ks of 
 to the 
 him 
 inable 
 iy the 
 wife, 
 |tating 
 led to 
 isions, 
 Id ear- 
 for the 
 sd me 
 ay, to 
 at he 
 d. 
 ng, so 
 Iressed 
 ; but 
 that it 
 Ltirely. 
 that I 
 s my 
 lof the 
 ers as 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 289 
 
 myself; as it was, it unfortunately happened that I turned 
 a deaf ear to every thing, leaving Wawatam and his wife, 
 after long and patient^ but inefTectual efllbrts, to depart alone, 
 with dejected countenances, and not before they had each let 
 fall some tears. 
 
 In the course of the same day, I observed that the Indians 
 came in great numbers into the fort, purchasing tomahawks, 
 (small axes of one pound weight,) and frequently desiring to 
 see silver arm-bands, and other valuable ornaments, of which 
 I had a large quantity for sale. The ornaments, however, 
 they in no instance purchased, but, after turning them over, 
 left them, saying that they would call again the next day. Their 
 motive, as it afterward appeared, was no other than the very 
 artful one of discovering, by requesting to see them, the par- 
 ticular places of their deposit, so that they might lay their 
 hands on them in the moment of pillage with the greater cer* 
 tainty and dispatch. 
 
 At night, I turned in my mind the visits of Wawatam ; but, 
 though they were calculated to excite uneasiness, nothing in- 
 duced me to believe that serious mischief was at hand. The 
 next day, being the fourth of June, was the king's birth-day. 
 
 The morning was sultry. A Chippeway came to tell me 
 that his nation was going to play at baggatiway, with the 
 Sacs or Saakies, another Indian nation, for a high wager. He 
 invited me to witness the sport, adding that the commandant 
 was to be there, and would bet on the side of the Chippeways. 
 In consequence of this information, I went to the commandant, 
 and expostulated with him a little, representing thai the Indians 
 might possibly have som^ sinister end in view ; but the com- 
 mandant only smiled at my suspicions. 
 
 Baggatiway, called by the Canadians le jeu de la crosse, is 
 played with a bat and . ball. The bat is about four feet in 
 length, curved, and terminating in a sort of racket. Two posts 
 are planted in the ground, at a considerable distance from each 
 other, as a mile or more. Each party has its post, and the 
 game consists in throwing the baM up to the post of the adver- 
 sary. The ball at the beginning is placed in the middle of 
 the course, and each party endeavors as well to throw the ball 
 out of the direction of its own post, as into that of the adver- 
 sary's. "' 
 
 I did not go myself to see the match which was now to be 
 played without the fort, because, there being a canoe prepared to 
 depart, on the following day, for Montreal, I employed myself 
 in writing letters to my friends ; and even when n^ fellow-tra- 
 der, Mr. Tracy, happened to call upon me, saying that another 
 canoe had just arrived from Detroit, and proposing that L 
 
 25 
 
 r *t 
 
 f^. 
 
 .h- . 
 
 'A*- 
 
 Mt 
 
290 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 [ 
 
 should go with him to the beach, to inquire the news, Jt so 
 happened that I still remained, to finish my letters ; promising 
 to follow Mr. Tracy in the course of a few minutes. Mr. 
 Tracy had not gone more than twenty paces from the door, 
 when I heard an Indian war-cry, and a noise of general con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Going instantly to my window, I saw a crowd of Indians, 
 within the fort, furiously cutting down and scalping every 
 Englishman they found. In particular, I witnessed the fate of 
 Lieutenant Jemette. 
 
 I had in the room in which I was a fowling-piece, loaded 
 with swan-shot. This I immediately seized, and held it for a 
 few minutes, waiting to hear the drum beat to arms. In this 
 dreadful interval I saw several of my countrymen fall, and 
 more than one struggling between the knees of an Indian, who, 
 holding him in this manner, scalped him while yet living. 
 
 At length, disappointed in the hope of seeing resistance made 
 to the enemy, and sensible of course that no effort of my own 
 unassisted arm could avail against four hundred Indians, I 
 thought only of seeking shelter. Amid the slaughter which 
 was raging, I observed many of the Canadian inhabitants of 
 the fort calmly looking on, neither opposing the Indians nor 
 suffering injury; and from this circumstance I conceived a 
 hope of finding security in their houses. 
 
 Between the yard-door of my own house and that of M. 
 Langlade, my next neighbor, there was only a low fence, over 
 which I easily climbed. At my entrance I found the whole 
 family at the windows, gazing at the scene of blood before 
 them. I addressed myself immediately to M. Langlade, beg- 
 ging that he would put me into some place of safety, until the 
 heat of the affair should be over ; an act of charity by which 
 he might perhaps preserve me from the general massacre ; but 
 while I uttered my petition, M. Langlade, who had looked for 
 a moment at me, turned again to the window, shrugging his 
 shoulders, and intimating that he could do nothing for me : — 
 " Que voudriez-vous que fen ferais ? " 
 
 This was a moment for despair; but the next, a Pani wo- 
 man,* a slave of M. Langlade's, beckoned to me to follow her. 
 She brought me to a door, which she opened, desiring me to 
 enter, and telling me that it led to the garret, where I must go 
 and conceal myself. I joyfully obeyed her directions; and 
 she, having followed me up to the garret-door, locked it after 
 me, and with great presence of mind took aw^ay the key. •*; 
 
 This shelter obtained, if shelter I could hope to find it, I was 
 
 ;, ^ ' *The Fanies are an Indian nation of the south. 
 
 ■■■.AL 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 291 
 
 of M. 
 
 ;e, over 
 whole 
 before 
 
 le, beg- 
 
 itil the 
 
 which 
 
 •e ; but 
 
 Iked for 
 ing his 
 me: — 
 
 ini wo- 
 
 )W her. 
 
 me to 
 
 mst go 
 
 ^s ; and 
 
 it after 
 
 ft, I was 
 
 naturally anxious ; know what might still be passing without. 
 Through an apertore, which afforded me a view of the area of 
 the fort, I beheld, in shapes the foulest and most terrible, the 
 ferocious triumphs of barbarian conquerors. The dead were 
 scalped and mangled ; the dying were writhing and shrieking 
 under the unsatiated knife and tomahaAvk ; and from the bodies 
 of some, ripped open, their butchers were drinking the blood, 
 scooped up in the hollow of joined hands, and quaffed amid 
 ■ shouts of rage and victory. I was shaken not c ly with horror, 
 but with fear. The sufferings which I witnessed, I seemed on 
 the point of experiencing. No long time elapsed before, every 
 one being destroyed who could be found, there was a general 
 cry of •• All is finished ! " At the same instant I heard some 
 of the Indians enter the house in which I was. 
 
 The garret was separated from the room below only by a 
 layer of single boards, at once the flooring of the one and the 
 ceiling of the other. I could therefore hear every thing that 
 passed ; and the Indians no sooner came in than they inquired 
 whether or not any Englishman were in the house. M. Lang- 
 lade replied that "he could not say; he did not know of any;" 
 answers in which he did not exceed the truth ; for the Pani 
 woman had not only hidden me by stealth, but kept my secret 
 and her own. M. Langlade was therefore, as I presume, as 
 i^r from a wish to destroy me as he was careless about saving 
 ine, when he added to these answers, that " they might exa- 
 mine for themselves, and would soon be satisfied as to the 
 object of their question." Saying this, he brought them to the 
 garret-door. 
 
 The state of my mind will be imagined. Arrived t,t the 
 door, some dfelay was occasioned by the absence of the key, 
 and a few moments were thus allowed me in which to look 
 around for a hiding-place. In one corner of the garret was a 
 heap of those vessels of birch-bark used in maple-sugar making, 
 as I have recently described. 
 
 The door was unlocked and opening, and the Indiana ascend- 
 ing the stairs, before I had completely crept into a small open- 
 ing which presented itself at one end of the heap. An instant 
 after, four Indians entered the room, all armed with tomahawks, 
 and all besmeared with blood upon every part of their bodies. 
 
 The die appeared to be cast. I could scarcely breathe ; but 
 I thought that the throbbing of my heart occasioned a noise 
 loud enough to betray me. The Indians walked in every 
 direction about the garret, and one of them approached me so 
 closely that at a particular moment,' had he put forth his hand, 
 he must have touched me. Still I remained undiscovered; a 
 circumstance to which the dark color of my clothes, and the 
 
 
 **♦ 
 
 ** 
 
 :v%, 
 
292 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 .1 '.•■ 
 
 want of light in a room which had no window, and in the 
 corner in which I was, must have contributed. In a word, after 
 taking several turns in the room, during which they told M. 
 Langlade how many they had killed, and how many scalps 
 they had taken, they returned down stairs, and I, with sensa- 
 tions not to be expressed, heard the door, which was the barrier 
 between me and my fate, locked for the second time. 
 
 There was a feather-bed on the floor ; and on this, exhausted 
 as I was by the agitation of my mind, I threw myself down 
 and fell asleep. In this state I remained till the dusk of the 
 evening, when I was awakened by a second opening of the 
 door. The person that now entered was M. Langlade's wife, 
 who was much surprised at finding me, but advised me not to 
 be uneasy, observing that the Indians had killed most of the 
 English, but that she hoped I might myself escape. A shower 
 of rain having begun to fall, she had come to stop a hole in the 
 roof. On her going away, I begged her to send me a little 
 water to drink ; which she did. 
 
 As night was now advancing, I continued to lie on the bed, 
 ruminating on my condition, but unable to discover a resource 
 from which I could hope for life. A flight to Detroit had no 
 probable chance of success. The distance from Michilimacki- 
 nac was four hundred miles ; I was without provisions ; and 
 the whole length of the road lay through Indian countrieau 
 countries of an enemy in arms, where the first man whom# 
 should meet would kill me. To stay where I was threatened 
 nearly the same issue. As before, fatigue of mind, and not 
 tranquillity, suspended my cares, and procured me further , 
 sleep. 
 
 The game of baggatiway, as from the description above will 
 have been perceived, is necessarily attended with much vio- 
 lence and noise. In the ardor of contest, the ball, as has been 
 suggested, if it cannot be thrown to the goal desired, ia struck 
 in any direction by which it can be diverted from that designed 
 by the adversary. At such a moment, therefore, nothing could 
 be less liable to excite premature alarm, than that the ball 
 should be tossed over the pickets of the fort, nor that, having 
 fallen there, it should be followed on the instant by all engaged 
 in the game, as well the one party as the other, all eager, all 
 struggling, all shouting, all in the unrestrained pursuit of a 
 rude athletic exercise. Nothing could be less fitted \^ excite 
 premature alarm; nothing, therefore, could be more happily 
 devised, under the circumstances, than a stratagem like this; 
 and this was, in fact, the stratagem which the Indians had em- 
 ployed, by which they had obtained possession of the fort, and 
 by which they had been enabled to slaughter and subdue its 
 
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 S 
 
 *'- 
 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITS. 
 
 293 
 
 will 
 h vio- 
 been 
 struck 
 signed 
 could 
 le ball 
 laving 
 gaged 
 er, all 
 t of a 
 excite 
 appily 
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 d em> 
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 garrison, and such of its other inhabitants 'ea they pleased. To 
 be still more certain of success, they had prevailed upon aa 
 many as they could, by a pretext the least liable to suspicion, 
 to come voluntarily without the pickets ; and particularly the 
 commandant and garrison themselves. 
 
 The respite which sleep afforded me, during the night, was 
 put an end to by the return of morning. I was again on the 
 rack of apprehension. At sunrise, I heard the family stirring ; 
 and presently after Indian voices, informing M. Langlade that 
 they had not foand my hapless self among the dead, and that 
 they supposed me to be somewhere concealed. M. Langlade 
 appeared, from what followed, to be by this time acquainted 
 with the place of my retreat, of which, no doubt, he had been 
 informed by his wife. The poor woman, as soon as the In- 
 dians mentioned me, declared to her husband, in the French 
 tongue, that he should no longer keep me in his house, but 
 deliver me up to my pursuers ; giving as a reason for this 
 measure, that, should the Indians discover his instrumentality 
 in my concealment, they might revenge it on her children, and 
 that It was better that I should die than they. M. Langlade 
 resisted at first this sentence of his wife's, but soon suffered 
 her to prevail, informing the Indians that he had been told I 
 was in his house, that I had come there without his knowledge, 
 and that he would put me into theit hands. This was no 
 aooner expressed than he began to ascend the stairs, the In- 
 dians following upon his heels. 
 
 I now resigned myself to the fate with which I was menaced ; 
 and regarding every attempt at concealment as vain, I arose 
 •from the bed, and presented myself full in view to the Indians 
 who were entering the room. They were all in a state of 
 intoxication, and entirely naked, except about the middle. One 
 of them, named Wenniway, whom I had previously known, 
 and who was upward of six feet iu height, had his entire face 
 and body covered with charcoal and grease, only that a white 
 spot, of two inches in diameter, encircled either eye. This 
 man, walking up to me, seized me with one hand by the collar 
 of the coat, while in the other he held a large carving knife, 
 as if to plunge it into my breast ; his eyes meanwhile were 
 fixed steadfastly on mine. At length, after some seconds of the 
 most anxious suspense, he dropped his arm, saying, " I won't 
 kill you ! " To this he added, that he had been frequently 
 engage* in wars against the English, and had brought away 
 many scalps ; that on a certain occasion he had lost a brother, ' 
 whose name was Musinigon, and that I should be called after 
 him. 
 
 A reprieve upon any terms placed me among the living, and 
 25* ' , 
 
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 ^im.. 
 
 .0- 
 
S94 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
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 gave me blick the sustaining voice of hope ; but Wenniway 
 ordered me down stairs, and there informing me that I was to 
 be taken to Iiis cabin, where, and indeed everywhere else, the 
 Indians were all mad with liquor, death again was threatened, 
 and not as possible only, but as certain. I mentioned my fears 
 on this subject to M. Langlade, begging him to represent the 
 danger to my master. M. Langlade, in this instance, did not 
 withhold his compassion, and Wenniway immediately consented 
 that I should remain where I was, until he found another op- 
 portunity to take me away. 
 
 Thus far secure, I re-ascended my garret-stairs, in order to 
 place myself the furthest possible out of the reach of insult 
 from drunken Indians ; but I had not remained there more than 
 an hour, when I was called to the room below, in which was 
 an Indian, who said that I must go with him out of the fort, 
 Wenniway having sent him to fetch me. This man, as well 
 as Wenniway himself, I had seen before. In the preceding 
 year, I had allowed him to take goods on credit, for which he 
 was still in my debt ; and some short time previous to the sur- 
 prise of the fort he had said, upon my upbraiding him with 
 want of honesty, that " he would pay me before long ! " This 
 speech now came fresh into my memory, and led me to suspect 
 that the fellow had formed a design against my life. I com- 
 municated the suspicion to M. Langlade ; but he gave for 
 answer that " I was not now my own master, and must do HI 
 I was ordered." 
 
 The Indian, on his part, directed that before I left the house 
 I should undress myself, declaring that my coat and shirt would 
 become him better than they did me. His pleasure in this 
 respect being complied with, no other alternative was left me 
 than either to go out naked, or to put on the clothes of the In- 
 dian, which he freely gave me in exchange. His motive for 
 thus stripping me of my own apparel was no other, as, I after- 
 ward learned, than this, that it might not be stained wrai blood 
 when he should kill me. 
 
 I was now told to proceed ; and my driver followed me close, 
 until I had passed the gate of the fort, when I turned toward 
 the spot where I knew the Indians to be encamped. This, 
 however, did not suit the purpose of my enemy, who seized 
 rae by the arm, and drew me violently in the opposite direction, 
 to the distance of fifty yards above the fort. Here, finding that 
 I was approaching the bushes and sand-hills, I determined to 
 proceed no further, hut told the Indian that I believed he meant 
 to murder me, and that if so he might as well strike where i 
 was as at any greater distance. He replied, with coolness, that 
 my suspicions were just, and that he meant to pay me in this 
 
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ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 995 
 
 ?It me 
 In- 
 
 ve for 
 after- 
 blood 
 
 ned to 
 
 here "1 
 lis, that 
 this 
 
 maimer for my goods. At the same time he produced a knife, 
 and held me in a position to receive the intended blow. Both 
 this and that which followed were necessarily the affair of a 
 moment. By some eflbrt, too sudden and too little dependent 
 on thought to be explained or remembered, I was enabled to 
 arrest his arm, and give him a sudden push, by which I turned 
 him from me, and released myself from his grasp. This was 
 no sooner done than I ran toward the fort, with all the swift- 
 ness in my power, the Indian fallowing roe, and I expecting 
 every moment to feel his knife. I succeeded in my ..ight; 
 and, on entering the fort, I saw Wenniway standing in the 
 midst of the area, and to him 1 hastened for protection. Wen- 
 niway desired the Indian to desist ; but the latter pursued me 
 Tound him, making several strokes at me with his knife, and 
 foaming at the mouth with rage at the repeated failure of his 
 purpose. At length Wenniway drew near to M. Langlade's 
 house ; and the door being open, I ran into it. The Indian 
 followed me ; but on my entering the house, he voluntarily 
 abandoned the pursuit. 
 
 Preserved so often, and so unexpectedly, as it had now been 
 my lot to be, I returned to my garret, with a strong inclina- 
 tion to believe that, through the will of an overruling power, 
 no Indian enemy could do me hurt ; but new trials, as I believed, 
 were at hand, when, at ten o'clock in the evening, I was roused 
 loom sleep, and once mure desired to descend the stairs. Not 
 less, however, to my satisfaction than surprise, 1 was sum- 
 moned only to meet Major Etherington, Mr. Bostwick and 
 Lieutenant Lesslie, who were in the room below. 
 
 These gentlemen had been taken prisoners, while looking 
 at the game, without the fort, and immediately stripped of all 
 their clothes. They were now sent into the fort, under the 
 charge of Canadians, because, the Indians having resolved on 
 getting drunk, the chiefs were apprehensive that they would 
 be muwiered if they continued in the camp. Lieutenant 
 Jemette and seventy soldiers had been killed ; and but twenty 
 Englishmen, including soldiers, were still alive. These were 
 all within the fort, together with nearly three hundred Cana- 
 dians belonging to the canoes, &c. 
 
 These being our numbers, myself and others proposed to Maj. 
 Etherington to make an effort for regaining possession of the fort, 
 and maintaining it against the Indians. The Jesuit raissionary 
 was consulted on the project ; but he discouraged us, by his rep- 
 resentations, not only of the merciless treatment which we must 
 eflkpect from tho Indians, should they regain their superiority, 
 but of the little dependence which was to be placed upon our 
 Canadian auxiliaries. Thus the fort and prisoners remained 
 
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296 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
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 in the hands of the Indians, though, through the whole night, 
 the prisoners and whites were in actual possession, and they 
 were without the gates. 
 
 That whole night, or the greater part of it, was passed ixi 
 mutual condolence; and my fellow-prisoners shared my garret. 
 In the morning, being again called down, I found my master 
 Wenniway, and was desired to follow him. He led me to a smalP^ 
 house, within the fort, where, in a narrow room, and almost 
 dark, I found Mr.Ezekiel Solomons, an Englishman from Detroit, 
 and a soldier, all prisoners. With these, I remained in pain- 
 ful suspense, as to the scene that was next to present itself, till 
 ten o'clock in the forenoon, when an Indian arrived, and pres- 
 ently marched us to the lake-side, where a canoe appeared 
 ready for departure, and in which we found that we were to 
 embark. 
 
 Our voyage, full of doubt as it was, would have commenced 
 immediately, but that one of the Indians, who was to be of 
 the party, was absent. His arrival was to be waited for ; and 
 this occasioned a very long delay, during v/hich we were 
 exposed to a keen north-east wind. An old shirt was all that 
 covered me ; I suffered much from the cold ; and in this 
 extremity, M. Langlade coming down to the beach, I asked 
 him for a blanket, promising if I lived to pay him for it, at any 
 price he pleased ; but the answer I received was this, that he 
 could let me have no blanket unless there were some one |li 
 be security for the payment. For myself, he observed, I had 
 no longer any property in that country. I had no more to say 
 to M. Langlade; but presently seeing another Canadian, 
 named John Cuchoise, I addressed to him a similar request, and 
 was not refused. Naked as I was and rigorous as was the 
 weather, but for the blanket I must have perished. At noon, 
 our party was all collected, the prisoners all embarked, and we 
 steered for the Isles du Castor, [Beaver Island,] in lake Mkhigan. 
 
 The soldier who was our conipahioh in misfortune vfm made 
 fast to a bar of the canoe, by a rope tied round his neck, as 
 is the manner of the Indians in' transporting their prisoners. 
 The rest were left unconfined ; but a paddle was put into each 
 of our hands, and we were made to use it. The Indians in 
 the canoe were seven in number, the prisoners four. I had 
 left, as it will be recollected. Major Etherington, Lieutenant 
 Lesslie and Mr. Bostwick, at M. Langlade's, and was now 
 joined in misery 'with Mr. Ezekiel Solomons, the soldier, afid 
 the Englishman who had newly arrived from Detroit. This 
 was on the sixth day^ of June. The fort was taken on tlft 
 fourth ; I surrendered myself tp Wenniway oa the fifth ; and 
 this was the third day of our distress. ^- . ... . 
 
 
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ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 297 
 
 meed 
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 We were bound, as I have said, for the Isles du Castor, 
 which lie in the mouth of lake Michigan; hnd we should 
 have crossed the lake, but that a thick fog came on, on account 
 of which ihe Indians deemed it safer to keep the shore close 
 under their lee. We therefore approached the lands of the 
 Ottawas, and their village of L'Arbre Croche, already men- 
 tioned as lying about twenty miles to the westward of Michili- 
 mackinac, on the opposite side of the tongue of land on which 
 the fort is built. 
 
 Every half hour, the Indians gave their war-whoops, one 
 for every prisoner in their canoe. This is a general custom, 
 by the aid of which all other Indians, within hearing, are 
 apprized of the number of prisoners they are carrying. 
 
 In this manner, we reached Wagoshense, Fox-point, a long 
 point, stretching westward into the lake, and which the Ottawas 
 make a carrying place, to avoid going round it. It is distant 
 eighteen miles from Michilimackinac. After the Indians had 
 made their war-whoop, as before, an Ottawa appeared upon the 
 beach, who made signs that we should land. In consequence, 
 we approached. The Ottawa asked the news, and kept the 
 Chippeways in further conversation, till we were within a few 
 yards of the land, and in shallow water. At this* moment, a 
 Hundred men rushed upon us, from among the bushes, and 
 dragged all the prisoners out of the canoes, amid a terrifying 
 iHtout. 
 
 We now believed that our last sufferings were approaching; 
 but no sooner were we fairly on shore, and on our legs, than 
 the chiefs of tlie party advanced, and gave each of us their 
 hands, telling us that they were our friends, and Ottawas, 
 whom the Chippeways had insulted, by destroying the English 
 without consulting with them on the affair. They added that 
 what they had done was for the purpose of saving our lives, the 
 Chipp^ays having been. carrying us to the Isles du Castor 
 only Ifl^ill and devour us. 
 
 The reader's imagination is, here distracted by the variety of 
 our fortunes, and he may well paint to himself the state of mind 
 of those who sustained them, who were the sport or the vic- 
 tims of a series of events, more like dreams than realities, 
 more like fiction than truth ! It was not long before we were 
 embarked again, in the canoes of the Ottawas, who, the same 
 evening, relanded us at Michilimackinac, wh^e they marched 
 ^^0 into the fort, in view of the Chippeways, confounded at 
 1)tholding the Ottawas espouse a side opposite to their own. 
 
 The Ottawas, who had accompanied us in sufficient num- 
 bers, took possession of the fort; We, who had changed mas- 
 
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 JV 
 
 
 *»s. 
 
898 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ■ 
 
 •/ 
 
 i 
 
 ters, but were still prisoners, were lodged in the house of the 
 commandant, and strictly guarded. 
 
 Early the next morning, a general council was held, in 
 which the Chippeways complained much of the conduct of 
 the Ottawas in robbing them of their prisoners ; alleging that 
 all the Indians, the Ottawas alone excepted, were at war with 
 the English ; that Pontiac had taken Detroit ; that the king 
 of France had awoke, and repossessed himself of Quebec atid 
 Montreal ; and that the English were meeting destruction, 
 not only at Michilimackinac, but in every other part of the 
 world. From all this they inferred that it became the Ottawas 
 to restore the prisoners, and to join in Cue war ; and the speech 
 w^as followed by large presents, being part of the plunder of 
 the fort, and which was previously heaped in the centre of 
 the room. The Indians rarely make their answers till the day 
 after they have heard the arguments offered. They did not 
 depart from their custom on this occasion ; and the council 
 therefore adjourned. 
 
 We, the prisoners, whose fate was thus in controversy, were 
 unacquainted at the time with this transaction ; and therefore 
 enjoyed a night of tolerable tranquillity, not in the least sus- 
 pecting the, reverse which was preparmg for us. Which of 
 the arguments of the Chippeways, or whether or not all 
 were deemed valid by the Ottawas, I cannot say ; but the 
 .council was resumed at an early hour in the morning, nnfl, 
 after several speeches had been made in it, the prisoners were 
 sent fqr, and returned to the Chippeways. 
 * The Ottawas, who now gave us into the hands of the 
 Chippeways, had themselves declared that the latter designed 
 no other than to kill us, and make broth of us. The Chippe- 
 ways, as soon as we were restored to them, marched us to a 
 village of their own, situate on the point which is below the 
 fort, and put us into a lodge, already the prison of fourteen 
 soldiers, tied two and two, with each a rope about his neck, and 
 * made fast to a pole which might be called tlie supporter of the 
 ^ building. 
 jK I was left untied ; but I passed a night sleepless and full of 
 
 wretchedness. My bed was the bare ground, and I was 
 again reduced to an old shirt, as my entire apparel ; the 
 ^ , blanket which I had received, through the generosity of M. 
 ^:E ^*^^ Cuchoise, having been taken from me among the Ottawas, 
 ■ ' when they seizeaupon myself and the others, at Wagoshense. .. 
 
 I was, besides, in want of food, having for two days eaten noth- 
 ^i^,; in^. 4,- 
 
 I confess that in the can«|p with the Cl^ppeways I was 
 * offered bread ; but, bread, with what accompaniment! They 
 
 
 
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 -.iSfe: 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 299 
 
 5k, 
 
 full of 
 I was 
 
 i\; the 
 of M. 
 
 ttawas, 
 
 ^hense... 
 I noth- 
 
 I was 
 They 
 
 had a loaf, which they cut with the same knives that they had 
 employed in the massacre — knives still covered with blood. 
 The blond they moistened with spittle, and rubbing it on 
 the bread, offered this for food to their prisoners, telling them 
 to eat the blood of their countrymen. 
 
 Such was my situation on the morning of the seventh of 
 June, in the year one thousand seven hundred and sixty-three; 
 but a few hours produced an event which gave still a new 
 color to my lot. 
 
 Toward noon, when the great war-chief, in company with 
 Wenniway was seated at the opposite end of the lodge, my 
 friend and brother, Wawatam, suddenly came in. During 
 the four days preceding, I had often wondered what had 
 become of him. In passing by he gave me his hand, but 
 went immediately toward the great chief, by the side of whom 
 and WenniwaVi he sat himself down. The most uninterrupted 
 silence prevailed ; each smoked his pipe ; and this done, 
 Wawatam arose, and left the lodge, saying to me, as he passed, 
 " Take courage !" 
 
 An hour elapsed, during which several chiefs entered, and 
 preparations appeared to be making for a council. At length, 
 Wawatam re-entered the lodge, followed by his wife, and both 
 loaded with merchandise, which they carried up to the chiefs, 
 and laid in a heap before them. Some moments of silence 
 followed, at the end of which Wawatam pronounced a speech, **: 
 every word of which, to me, was of extraordinary interest : 
 
 " Friends and relations," he began, " what is it that I* shall 
 say ? You know what I feel. You all have friends and 
 brothers and children, whom as yourselves you love ; and you, 
 what would you experience, did you, like me, behold your 
 dearest friena — your brother — in the condition of a slave; 
 a slave, exposed every moment to insult, and to menaces of 
 death ? '^^^his case, as you all know, is mine. See there 
 {pointing to myself) my friend and brother among slaves, him- 
 self a slave ! 
 
 " You all well know that long before the war began I 
 adopted him as my brother. From that moment he became 
 one of my family, so that no change of circumstances could 
 break the cord which fastened us together. 
 
 " He is my brother; and, because I am your relation, he is 
 therefore your relation too : — and how, being your relation, can • 
 he be your slave ? 
 
 " On the day on which the war began, you were fearful, 
 lest on this vesjry account I^should reveal your secret. 
 You requested, iherefore, that % would leave the fort, and 
 even cross the lake. I did &o, but did it with relucfanoa. 
 
 
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 ALEXANDER HeAbY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 \ 
 
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 ':•?' 
 
 I 
 
 I did it with reluctance, notwithstanding that ^ou, Meneh- 
 wehna, who had the command in this enterprise, gave m« 
 Your promise that you would protect my friend, delivering him 
 from all danger, and giving him safely to me. 
 
 " The performance of this promise I now claim. I come 
 not with empty hands to ask it. You, Menehwehna, best 
 know whether or not, as it respects yourself, you have kept 
 your word, but I bring these goods, to buy off every claim 
 which any man among you all may have on my brother, as his 
 prisoner." 
 
 Wawatam having ceased, the pipes were again filled ; and, 
 after they were finished, a further period of silence followed. 
 At the end of this, Menehwehna arose, and gave his reply : 
 
 " My relation and brother," said he, " what you have spoken 
 is the truth. We were acquainted with the friendship which 
 subsisted between yourself and the Englishman, in whose 
 behalf you have now addressed us. We knew the danger of 
 having our secret discovered, and the consequences whiph 
 must follow ; and you say truly that we requested you to leave 
 the fort. This we did out of regard for you and your family ; 
 for, if a discovery of our design had been made, you would 
 have been blamed, whether guilty or not ; and you would thus 
 have been involved in difficulties from which you could not 
 have extricated yourself. 
 
 " It is also true that I promised you to take care of yotir 
 friend ; and this promise I performed, by desiring my son, 
 at the moment of assault, to seek him out, and bring him 
 to my lodge. He went accordingly, but could not find him. 
 The day after I sent him to Langlade's, when he was informed 
 that your friend was safe ; and had it not been that the Indians 
 were then drinking the rum which had been found in the fort, 
 he would have brought him home with him, according to * my 
 orders. 
 
 " I am very glad to find that your friend has escaped. We 
 accept your present; and you may take him home with 
 you." 
 
 Wawatam thanked the assembled chiefs, and takin" :t,- by 
 the hand, led me to his lodge, which was at the atsiunce of a 
 few yards only from the prison-lodge. My entrance appeared 
 .to givv? joy to the whole family; food was immediately pre- 
 pared Ut me ; and I now ate the first hearty meal which I had 
 made P'rca my capture. I found myself one of the family ; 
 and bur tm.. I r < d still my fears, as to the other Indians, I felt 
 as happy as th^siiuation could allow. 
 
 In ihe co'irse of the next mbrning, I was alarmed by a noise 
 in the prison-lodge ; aad looking through the openings of thfe 
 
 .r. ^. , 
 
he: 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 301 
 
 yoor 
 
 son, 
 
 him 
 
 hira. 
 
 Ibrnied 
 
 dians 
 
 e fort, 
 
 ,o*my 
 
 We 
 
 with 
 
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 e ot a 
 eared 
 
 ly pre- 
 Ihad 
 
 imily ; 
 
 \, I felt 
 
 noise 
 of the 
 
 ^ dge in which I was, I saw seven dead bodies of white men 
 dragged forth. Upon my inquiry into the occasion, I was 
 informed that a certain chief, called by the Canadians Le Grand 
 Sable, had not long before ir rived from his winter's hunt; and 
 that he, having been absent when the war begun, and being 
 now desirous of manifesting to the Indiana ut large his hearty 
 concurrence in what they hnd done, had gone into the prison- 
 lodge, and there with his knife put the seven men whose bodies 
 I had seen to death. 
 
 Shortly ader, two of the Indians took one of the dead bodies, 
 uLirh ihey chose as being the fattest, cut oflf the head, and 
 divided the whole into five parts, one of which was put into 
 each of five kettles, huns; over as many fires kindled for this 
 purpose, at the door of the prison-lodge. Soon after things 
 were so far prepared, a message came to our lodge, with an 
 invitation to Wawatam to assist at the feast. 
 
 An invitation to a feast is given by him who is the master 
 of it. Small cuttings of cedar wood, of about four inches in 
 length, supply the place of cards ; and the bearer by word of 
 mouth states the particulars. 
 
 Wawatam obeyed the summons, taking with him, as is usual, 
 to the place of entertainment, his dish and spoon. 
 
 After an absence of about half an hour, he returned, bringing 
 lui his dish a human hand, and a large piece of flesh. He did 
 not appear to relish the repast, but told me that it was then, 
 and always had been the custom among all the Indian nations, 
 when returning from war, or on overcoming their enenties, to 
 make a war-feast from among the slain. This he said inspir- 
 ed the warrior with courage in attack, and bred him to meet 
 death with fearlessness. 
 
 In the evening of the same day, a large canoe, such as those 
 which came from Montreal, was seen advancing to the fort. 
 It was 4bll of men, and I distinguished several passengers. 
 The Indian cry was made in the village ; a general muster' 
 ordered ; and to the number of two hundred they marched up 
 to the fort, where the canoe was expected to land. The canoe, 
 suspecting nothing, came boldly to the fort, 'where the passen- 
 gers, as being English traders, were seized, dragged through 
 the water, beat, reviled, marched to the prison-lodge, and there- 
 stripped of ti*eir clothes and confined. *'■* 
 
 Of the Eifeglbh traders that fell into the hands of the Indians 
 at the captiai« of the fort, Mr. Tracy was the oi^ly one who 
 lost his U^ Mr. Ezekiel Solomons and Mr. Henry Bostwick 
 were tak&«t> by the Of^%^vas, and after the peace carried down 
 to Montreal, aojd thunt ransomed. Of ninety troops, about 
 seventy were killed ; the rest, together with those of the posts^ 
 
 I .i 
 
 m 
 
 ^: 
 
 96 
 
 
 
 "# 
 
302 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 |:.t. 
 
 '^ 
 
 
 in the Bay des Puants, and at the river Saint Joseph, were 
 also kept in safety by the Ottawas till the peace, and then either 
 freely restored, or ransomed at Montreal. The Ottawas never 
 overcame their disgust at the neglect with which they had 
 been treated, in the beginning of the war, by those who after- 
 ward desired their assistance as allies. 
 
 , In the morning of the ninth of June, a general council was 
 held, at which it was agreed to remove to the island of Michi- 
 limackinac, as a more defensible situation in the event of an 
 attack by tijb English. The Indians had begun to entertain 
 apprehensions of want of strength. No news had reached 
 them from the Potawatamies, in the Bay des Puants ; and they 
 were uncertain whether or not the Monomins* would join them. 
 They even feared that the Sioux would take the English side. 
 
 This resolution fixed, they prepared for a speedy retreat. 
 At noon the camp was broken up, and we embarked, taking 
 with us the prisoners that were still undisposed of. On our 
 passage we encountered a gale of wind, and there were some 
 appearances of danger. To avert it, a dog, of which the legs 
 were previously tied together, was thrown into the lake ; an 
 offering designed to soothe the angry passions of some offended 
 Manito. 
 
 As we approached the island, two women in the canoe in 
 which I was began to utter melancholy and hideous cries.. 
 Precarious as my condition still jremained, I experienced some 
 sensations of alarm from these dismal sounds, of which I could 
 not then discover the occasion. Subsequently, I learned that 
 it is customary for the women, on passing near the burial-places 
 of relations, never to omit the practice of which I was now a 
 witness, and by which they intend to denote their grief. 
 
 By the approach of evening we reached the island in safety, 
 and the women were not long in erecting our cabins. In the 
 morning, there was a muster of the Indians, at which there 
 were found three hundred and fifty fighting men. 
 
 In the course of the day there arrived a canoe from Detroit, 
 with ambassadors, who endeavored to prevail on the Indians 
 to repair thither to the assistance of Pontiac ; but feasr was now 
 the prevailing passion. A guard was kept during the day, and 
 a watch by night, and alarms were very frequently spread. 
 Had an enemyappeared, all the prisoners would have been put 
 I'd death ; ana I suspected that, as an Englishman, I should 
 share their fate. 
 
 ♦ Manomines, or Malomines. In the first syllable, the substitution oft 
 for », and n for /, marks one of the differences in the Chippeway and Al- 
 ^nquin dialects. In the mouth of- an Algonquin, it is Miehilimackinac 
 ■'Va thai o£ a. Chippewsiy, Michinimackinac. . 
 
 .■ i 
 
 " ■■"•■.■«-■• ^ 
 
hI 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 303 
 
 on of t 
 ,nd Al- 
 ckinac 
 
 Several days had now passed, when one morning a contin- 
 ued alarm prevailed, and I saw the Indians running in a con- 
 fused manner toward the beach. In a short time I learned 
 that two large canoes from Montreal were in sight. 
 
 All the Indian canoes were immediately manned, and those 
 from Montreal were surrounded and sei'?ed, as they turned a 
 point behind which the flotilla had been concealed. The goods 
 were consigned to a Mr. Levy, and would have been saved if 
 the canoe men had called them French property ; but they were 
 terrified and disguised nothing. ^ 
 
 In the canoes was a large proportion of liquor, a dangerous 
 acquisition, and which threatened disturbance among the In- 
 dians, even to the loss of their dearest friends. Wawatam, 
 always watchful of my safety, no sooner heard the noise ot 
 drunkenness, which in the evening did not fail to begin, than 
 he represented to me the danger of remaining in the village, 
 and owned that he could not himself resist the temptation of 
 joining his comrades in the debauch. That I might escape all 
 mischief, he therefore requested that I would accompany him 
 to the mountain, where I was to remain hidden till the liquor 
 should be drank. 
 
 We ascended the mountain accordingly. It is this mountain 
 which constitutes that high land in the middle of the island, 
 j?f which I have spoken before, as of a figure considered as 
 resembling a turtle, and therefore called Michilimackinac. It 
 is thickly covered with wood, and very rocky toward the top. 
 After walking more than half a mile, we came to a large rock, 
 at the base of which was an opening, dark within, and appear- 
 ing to be the entrance of a cave. 
 
 Here, Wawatam recommended that I should take up my 
 lodging, and by all means remain till he returned. , 
 
 On going into the cave, of which the entrance was nearly 
 ten feet wide, I found the further end to be rounded in its shape, 
 like that of an oven, but with a further aperture, too small, 
 however, to be explored. 
 
 After thus looking around me, I broke small branches from 
 the trees, and spread them for a bed ; then wrapped myself in 
 my blanket, and slept till daybreak. 
 
 On awaking I felt myself incommoded by some object upon 
 which I lay ; and removing it, found it to be a bone. This I 
 supposed to be that of a deer, or some other animal, and what 
 might very naturally be looked for in the place in which it was ; 
 but, when daylight visited my chamber, I discovered, with some 
 feelings of horror, that I was lying on nothing less than a heap 
 of human bonei| and skulls, which covered all the floor ! 
 
 The day passed without the return of Wawatam, and with- 
 
 ij 
 
 < •*• . 
 
 
 
 
 '#'♦ 
 
 p. 
 
I 
 
 304 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 out food. As night approached, I found myself unable to meet 
 its darkness in the charnel-house, which, nevertheless, I had 
 yiewed free from uneasiness during the day. 1 chose, there- 
 fore, an adjacent bush for this night's lodging, and slept under 
 it as before ; but in the morning, I awoke hungry and dispir- 
 ited, and almost envying the dry bones, to the view of which 1 
 returned. At length the sound of a foot reached me, and my 
 Indian friend appeared, making many apologies for his long 
 absence, the cause of which was an unfortunate cess in the 
 enjoyment ^f his liquor. 
 
 This point being explained, I mentioned the extraordinary 
 sight that had presented itself in the cave to which he had 
 commended my s''imbers. He had never heard of its existence 
 before ; and, upon examining the cave together, we saw reason 
 to believe that it had been anciently filled with human bodies. 
 
 On returning to the lodge, I experienced a cordial reception 
 from the family, which consisted of the wife of my friend, his 
 two sons, of whom the eldest was married, and whose w^ife, 
 and a daughter of thirteen years of age, completed the list» 
 
 Wawatam related to the other Indians the adventure of the 
 bones. All of them expressed surprise at hearing it, and de- 
 clared that they had never been aware of the contents of this 
 cave before. After visiting it, which they immediately did, 
 almost every one offered a different opinion as to its history. 
 
 Some advanced, that at a period when the waters overflowed 
 the land, (an event which makes a distinguished figure in the 
 history of their world,) the inhabitants of this island had fled 
 into the cave, and been there drowned ; others, that those same 
 inhabitants, when the Hurons made war upon them, (as tradi- 
 tion says they did,) hid themselves in the cave, and being 
 discovered, were there massacred. For myself, I am disposed 
 to believe that this cave was an ancient receptacle of the bones 
 of prisoners, sacrificed and devoured at war-feasts. I have 
 always observed that the Indians pay particular attention to 
 the bones of sacrifices, preserving them unbroken, and deposit- 
 ing them in some place kept exclusively for that purpose. 
 
 A few days after the occurrence of the incidents recc ded 
 above, Menehwehna, whom I now found to be the great chief 
 of the village of Michiliniackinac, came to the lodge of my 
 friend ; and when the usual ceremony of smoking was finish- 
 ed, he observed that Indians were now daily arriving from 
 Detroit, some of whom had lost relations or friends in the war, 
 and who would certainly retaliate on any Englishman they 
 found ; upon which account, his errand was to advise that I 
 should be dressed like an Indian, an expedient whence I migh* 
 hope to escapeall future insult. 
 
 :#' 
 
 •W% 
 
 #*■ 
 
¥: 
 
 4-^- 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 305 
 
 : ded 
 
 cliief 
 
 )f my 
 
 nish- 
 
 from 
 
 war, 
 
 they 
 
 [that I 
 
 Imigh* 
 
 I could not but consent to the proposal, and the chief was so 
 kind as to assist my friend and his family in effecting that very 
 day the desired metamorphosis. My hair was cut off, and my 
 head shaved, with the exception oi a spot on the crown, of 
 about twice the diameter of a crown-piece. My face was 
 painted with three or four different colors ; some parts of it 
 red, and others black. A shirt was provided for me, painted 
 with vermilion, mixed with grease. A large collar of wampum 
 was put round my neck, and another suspended on my breast. 
 Both my arms were decorated with large bands of silver above 
 the elbow, besides several smaller ones on the wrists ; and my 
 legs were covered with mitoses, a kind of hose, made, as is the 
 favorite fashion, of scarlet cloth. Over all, I v*as to wear a 
 scarlet blanket or mantle, and on my head a large bunch of 
 feathers. I parted, not without some regret, with the long hair 
 which was natural to it, and which I fancied to be ornamental ; 
 but the ladies of the family, and of the village in general, ap- 
 peared to think my person improved, and now condescended to 
 call me handsome, even among Indians. 
 
 Protected, in a great measure, by this disguise, I felt myself 
 more at liberty than before ; and the season being arrived in 
 which my clerks, from the interior, were to be expected, and 
 some part of my property, as I had a right to hope, recovered, 
 I begged the favor of Wawatam that he would enable me to 
 pay a short visit to Michilimackinac. He did not fail to com- 
 ply, and I succeeded in finding my clerks j but, either through 
 the disturbed state of the country, as they represented to be 
 the case, or through their misconduct, as I had reason to think, 
 I obtained nothing ; and nothing, or almost nothing, I now 
 began to think would be all that I should need during the rest 
 of my life. To fish and to hunt, to collect a few skins, and 
 exchange them for necessaries, was all that I seemed destined 
 to do, and to acquire, for the future. 
 
 I returned to the Indian village, where at this time much 
 scarcity of food prevailed. We were often for twenty-four 
 hours without eating; and when in the morning we had no 
 victuals for the day before us, the custom was to black our 
 faces with grease and charcoal, and exhibit, through resigna- 
 ^ tion, a temper as cheerful as. if in the midst of plenty. 
 
 A repetition of the evil, however, soon induced us to leave 
 the island in search of food ; and accordingly Ave departed for 
 the Bay of Boutchitaouy, distant eight leagues, and where 
 we found plenty of wild-fowl and fish. 
 
 While in the bay, my guardian's daughter-in-law was taken 
 in labor of her first child. She was immediately removed out 
 of the common lodge ; and a small one, for her separate accom- 
 26* 
 
 111 
 
 • ( 
 
 ifi 
 
 «*#! 
 
 ■'■ »• 
 
 >'*f^, ^W 
 
 '.•'-■*t' 
 

 i ' 
 
 906 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITy. 
 
 modation, was begun and finished by the women in less than 
 half an hour. 
 
 The next morning we heard that she was very ill, and the 
 family began to be much alarmed on her account ; the more 
 so, no doubt, because cases of difficult labor are very rare 
 among Indian women. In this distress. Wawatam requested 
 me to accompany him into the wood^ ; and on our way in- 
 formed me that if he could find a snake, he should soon secure 
 relief to his daughter-in>law. 
 
 On reaching some wet ground, we speedily obtained the 
 object of our search, in a small snake, of the kind called the 
 garter-snake. Wawatam seized it by the neck, and, holding 
 it fast, while it coiled itself round his arm, he cut off its head, 
 catching the blood in a cup that he had brought with him. 
 This done, he threw away the snake, and carried home the 
 blood, which he mixed with a quantity ot water. Of this 
 mixture he administered first one table-spoonful, and shortly 
 after a second. Within an hour the patient was safely deli- 
 vered of a fine child ; and Wawatam subsequently declared 
 that the renfiedy, to which he had resorted, was one that never 
 failed^ 
 
 On the next day, we lefl the Bay of Boutchitaouy ; and the 
 young mother, in high spirits, assisted in loading the canoe, 
 barefopted, and knee-deep in the water. 
 
 The medical information, the diseases and the remedies of 
 
 the Indians, often engaged my curiosity during the period 
 
 through which I was familiar with these nations ; and I shall 
 
 lake this occasion to introduce a few particulars connected 
 
 ^ > with their history. 
 
 The Indians are in general free from disorders; and an 
 instance of their being subject to dropsy, gout, or stone, never 
 came within my knowledge. Inflammations of the lungs are 
 among their most ordinary complaints, and rheumatism still 
 more so, especially with the aged. Their mode of life, in 
 which they are so much exposed to the wet and cold, sleeping 
 on the ground, and inhaling the night air, sufficiently accounts 
 for their liability to these diseases. The remedies on which 
 they most rely are emetics, cathartics, and the lancet; but 
 especially the last. Bleeding is so favorite an operation among 
 the women that they never lose an occasion of enjoying it, 
 i . whether sick or well. I have sometimes bled a dozen women 
 ui^a morning AS they oat in a row, along a fallen tree, begin- 
 '::^ ning with the first, opening the vein, then proceeding to the 
 - second, and so on, having three or four individuals bleeding at 
 the same time. 
 
 In most villages, and particularly in those of the Ghippe- 
 
 a 
 
 m' 
 
 -•^# 
 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 307 
 
 than 
 
 d the 
 more 
 rare 
 ested 
 ly in- 
 ecure 
 
 d the 
 jd the 
 )lding 
 head, 
 L him. 
 le the 
 If this 
 hortly 
 y deli- 
 sclared 
 ; never 
 
 nd the 
 canoe, 
 
 dies of 
 period 
 I shall 
 
 kneeled 
 
 Ihippe- 
 
 ways, this service was required of me ; and no persu&sion of 
 mine could ever induce a woman to dispense with it. 
 
 In all parts of the country, and among all the natidns that I 
 have seen, particular individuals arrogate to themselves the 
 art of healing, hut principally by means of pretended sorcery ; 
 and operations of this sort are always paid for by a present 
 made before they are begun. Indeed, whatever, as an impostor, 
 may be the deme/its of the operator, his reward may generally 
 be said to be fairly earned by dint of corporal labor. 
 
 I was once present at a performance of this kind, in which 
 the patient was a female child of about twelve years of age. 
 Several of the elder chiefs were invited to the scene ; and the 
 same compliment was paid to myself, on account of the medi- 
 cal skill for which it was pleased to give me credit. 
 
 The physician (so to call him) seated himself on the ground ; 
 and before him, on a new stroud blanket, was placed a basin 
 of water, in which were three bones, the larger ones, as it 
 appeared to me, of a swan's wing. In his hand he had his 
 shishiquoi, or rattle, with which he beat time to his medidTie' 
 song. The sick child lay on a blanket, near tlfe physician. 
 She appeared to have much fever, and a severe oppression of 
 the lungs, breathing with difficulty, and betraying symptoms 
 of the last stage of consumption. 
 
 After singing for some time, the physician took one of the 
 bones out of the basin : the bone was hollow ; and one end 
 being applied to the breast of the patient, he put the other into 
 his mouth, in order to remove the disorder by suction. Having 
 persevered in this as long as he thought proner, he suddenly 
 seemed to force the bone into his mouth, and swallow it. He 
 now acted the part of one suffering severe pain ; but, presently, 
 finding relief, he made a long speech, and after this returned 
 to singing, and to the accompaniment of his rattle. With the 
 lattei:, during his song, he struck his head, breast, sides, and 
 back j at the same time straining, as if to vomit forth the bone. 
 
 Relinquishing this attempt, he applied himself to suction a 
 second time, and with the second of the three bones ; and this 
 also he soon seemed to swallow. 
 
 Upon its disappearance, he began to distort himself in the 
 most frightful manner, using every gesture which could convey 
 the idea of pain ; at length he succeeded, or pretended to suc- 
 ceed, in throwing up one of the bones. This was handed 
 about to the spectators, and strictly examined; but nothing 
 remarkable could be discovered. Upon this,. he went back to 
 his song and rattle ; and after some time threw up the second 
 of the two bones. In the groove of this, the physician, upon 
 examination, found, and displayed to all present, a small white 
 
 I ! 
 
 ^.^re^ 
 
 ■^,\ 
 
 > 
 
 1» 
 
 %'■■■ 
 
 ♦ * 
 
808 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ' •*. 
 
 
 substance, resembling a piece of the quill of a feather, It was 
 passed round the company from one to the other ; and declared, 
 by the physician, to be the thing causing the disorder of his 
 patient. 
 
 The multitude believe that these physicians, whom the 
 French call jongleurs, or jugglers, can inflict as well as remove 
 disorders. They believe that by drawing the figure of any 
 person in sand or ashes, or on clay, or by considering any 
 object as the figure of a person, and then pricking it with a 
 sharp stick, or other substance, or doing, in any other manner, 
 that which done to a living body would cause pain or injury, 
 the individual represented, or supposed to be represented, will 
 suflfer accordingly. On the other hand, the mischief being 
 done, another physician, of equal pretensions, can by suction 
 remove it. Unfortunately, however, the operations which I 
 have described were not successful in the instance referred to ; 
 for, on the day after they had taken place, the girl died. 
 
 With regard to flesh-wounds, the Indians certainly efTect 
 astonishing cures. Here, as above, much that is fantastic 
 occurs; but the success of their practice evinces something 
 solid. 
 
 At the Sault de Sainte-Marie I knew a man who, in the 
 result of a quarrel, received the stroke of an axe in his side. 
 The blow was so violent, and the axe driven so deep, that the 
 wretch who held it could not withdraw it, but left it in the 
 wound, and fled. Shortly after, the man was found, and 
 brought into the fort, where several other Indians came to his 
 assistance. Aiiiong these, one, who was a physician, imme- 
 diately withdrew, in order to fetch his penegusan, or medicine- 
 bag, with which he soon returned. The eyes of the sufferer 
 were fixed, his teeth closed, and his case apparently desperate. 
 ' The physician took from his bag a small portion of a very 
 white substance, resembling that of a bone ; this he scraped 
 into a little water, and forcing open the jaws of the patient 
 with a stick, he poured the mixture down his throat. What 
 followed was, that in a very short space of time the wounded 
 man moved his eyes ; and beginning to vomit, threw up a 
 small lump of clotted blood. 
 
 The physician now, and not before, examined the wound, 
 from which 1 could see the fereath escape, and from which a 
 part of the omentum depended. This the physician did not 
 set about to restore to its place, .but, cutting it away, minced 
 it into small pieces, and made his patient' swallow it. 
 
 The man wa§ then carried to his lodge, where I visited him 
 daily. By the sixth day he was able to walk about; and 
 within a month he grew quite well, except that he was troubled 
 
 
 %:■ 
 
 m . ♦'*■■ ♦ f. 
 
 ^ "'" 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 309 
 
 up a 
 
 70und, 
 
 l-hich a 
 
 lid not 
 
 linced 
 
 id him 
 and 
 doubled 
 
 with a cough. Twenty years after his misfortune he was still 
 alive. 
 
 Another man, being on his wintering-ground, and from 
 home, hunting beaver, was crossing a lake, covered with 
 smooth ice, with two beavers on his back, when his foot slipped, 
 and he fell. At his side, in his belt, was his axe, the blade' of 
 which came upon the joint of his wrist ; and, the weight of 
 his body coming upon the blade, his hand was completely 
 separated from his arm, with the exception of a small piece of 
 the skin. He had to walk three miles to his lodge, which was 
 thus far away. The skin, which alone retained his hand to 
 his arm, he cut through, with the same axe vhich had done 
 the rest ; and fortunately having on a shirt, he took it off, tore 
 it up, and made a strong ligature above the wrist, so as in 
 some measure to avoid the loss of blood. On reaching his 
 lodge, he cured the wound himself, by the mere use of simples. 
 I was a witness to its perfect healing. 
 
 I have said that these physicians, jugglers, or practitioners 
 of pretended sorcery, are supposed to be capable of inflicting 
 diseases ; and I may add, that they are sometimes themselves 
 sufierers on this account. In one instance I saw one of them 
 killed, by a man who charged him with having brought his 
 brother to death by malefic arts. The accuser, in his rage, 
 thrust his knife into the belly of the accused, and ripped it 
 open. The latter caught his bowels in his arms, and thus 
 walked toward his lodge, gathering them up, from time to 
 time, as they escaped his hold. His lodge was at no con- 
 siderable distance, and he reached it alive, and died in it. 
 
 Our next encampment was on the island of Saint-Martin, 
 off Cape Saint-Ignace, so called from the Jesuit mission of 
 Saint Ignatius to the Hurons, formerly established there. Our 
 object was to fish for sturgeon, which we did witli^ great suc- 
 cess ; and here, in the enjoyment of a plentiful arid excellent 
 supply of food, we remained until the twentieth day Qf Au- 
 gust. At this time, the autumn being at hand, and a sure 
 prospect of increased security from hostile Indians afibrded, 
 Wawatam proposed going to his intended wintering-ground. 
 The removal was a subject of the greatest joy to myself, on 
 account of the frequent insults, to which I had still to submit, 
 from the Indians of our band or village, and to escape from 
 which I would freely have gone almost anywhere. At our 
 wintering-ground we were to bR> alone ; for the Indian families, 
 in the countries of which I write, separate in the winter 
 season, for the convenience as well of subsistence as of the 
 chase, and re-associate in the spring and summer. 
 
 In preparation, our first business was to sail for ]|||[ichili- 
 
 -■^« 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
' 
 
 1*. 
 
 i,^ 
 
 ^- 
 
 810 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 mackinac, where, being arrived, we procured from a Canadian 
 trader, on credit, some trifling articles, together with ammuni- 
 tion, and two bushels of maize. This done, we steered di- 
 rectly for lake Michigan. At L'Arbre Croche we stopped one 
 day on a visit to the Ottawas, where all the people, and par- 
 ticularly Okinochumaki, the chief, 'he same who took me from 
 the Chippeways, behaved with great civility and kindness. 
 The chief presented me with a bag of maize. It is the 
 O tawas, it will be remembered, who raise this grain for the 
 m&rket of Michilimackinac. 
 
 Leaving L'Arbre Croche, we proceeded direct to the mouth 
 of the river Aux Sables, on the south side of the lake, and 
 dif tant about a hundred and fifty miles from fort Michili- 
 ma'-kinac. On our voyage, we passed several deep bays and 
 rivers, and I found the banks of the lake to consist in mere 
 sandi', without any appearance of verdure ; the sand drifting 
 from one hill to another, like snow in winter. Hence, all the 
 rivers, ;vhich here entered the lake, are as much entitled to 
 the epithet of sandy as that io which we were bound. They 
 are also distinguished by another particularity, always observa- 
 ble in similar situations. The current of the stream being 
 met, when the wind is contrary, by the waves of the lake, it is 
 driven back, and the sands of the shore are at the same time 
 washed into its mouth. In consequence, the river is able to 
 force a passage into the lake, broad only in proportion to its 
 utrrtost strength ; while it hollows for' itself, behind the sand- 
 banks, a basin of one, two, or three miles across. In these 
 rivers we killed many wild-fowl and beaver. 
 
 To kill beaver, we used to go several miles up the rivers, 
 before the approach of night, and after Ihe dusk came on suflfer 
 the canoe to drift gently down thecurrent, without noise. The 
 beaver in this part of the evening come abroad to procure 
 food, or materials for repairing their habitations; and as they 
 are not alarmed by the canoe, they often pass it within gun- 
 shot. 
 
 While we thus hunted along our way, I enjoyed a personal 
 freedom of which I had been long deprived, and became as 
 expert in the Indian pursuits as the Indians themselves. 
 
 On entering the river Aux Sables, Wawatam took a dog, 
 tied its feet together, and threw it into the stream, uttering, 
 it the same time, a long prayer, which he addressed to the 
 Great Spirit, supplicating his blessing on the chase, and his 
 aid in the support of the family, through the dangersj>f aiong 
 winter. Our lodge was fifteen miles above the mouth" of the 
 stream. The principal animals which the country afforded 
 
 *j» 
 
 Mm 
 
 "■'* 
 
 W^ 
 
 *** 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 an 
 
 inadian 
 mmuni- 
 ered di- 
 ped one 
 ind par- 
 T»e from 
 indness. 
 L is the 
 1 for the 
 
 e mouth 
 oke, and 
 Michili- 
 )ays and 
 in mere 
 drifting 
 e, all the 
 ntitled to 
 L They 
 I observa- 
 im being 
 lake, it is 
 ame time 
 IS able to 
 on to its 
 le sand- 
 n these 
 
 le rivers, 
 on suffer 
 lise. The 
 procure 
 as they 
 hin gun- 
 personal 
 ecame as 
 s. 
 
 a dog, 
 uttering, 
 to the 
 and his 
 j»f along 
 h' of the 
 afforded 
 
 id 
 
 were the stag or red deer, the common American . deer, ti 
 bear, raccoon, beaver and marten. 
 
 The beaver feeds in preference on young wood of the birch, 
 aspen and poplar tree, {populus nigra, called by the Canadians 
 Hard,) but in defect of these on any other tree, those of the 
 
 Eine and fir kinds excepted. These latter it employs only for 
 uilding its dams and houses. In wide meadows, where no 
 wood is to be found, it resorts, for all its purposes, to the roots 
 of the rush and water lily. It consumes great quantities of 
 food, whether of roots or wood ; and hence often reduces 
 itself to the necessity of removing into a new quarter. Its 
 house has an arched dome-like roof, of an elliptical figure, and 
 rises from three to four feet above the surface of the .vater. 
 It is always entirely surrounded by water; but, in the banks 
 adjacent, the animal provides holes or washes, of which the 
 entrance is below the surface, and to which it retreats on the 
 first alarm. 
 
 The female beaver usually produces two young at a time, 
 but not unfrequently more. During the first year the young 
 remain with their parents. In the second they occupy an 
 adjoining apartment, and assist in building, and in procuring 
 food. At two years old, they part, and build houses of their 
 own ; but often rove about for a considerable time, before they 
 fix upon a spot. There are beavers, called by the Indians old 
 btichelors, who live by themselves, build no houses, and work 
 at no dams, but shelter themselves in holes. The usual 
 method of taking these is by traps, formed of iron, or logs, and 
 baited with branches of poplar. 
 
 According to the Indians, the beaver is much given to jealousy. 
 If a strange male approaches the cabin, a battle immediately 
 eftsues. Of this the female remains an unconcerned spectator, 
 careless to which party the law of conquest may assign her. 
 Among the beaver which we killed, those who were with me 
 pretended to show demonstrations of this fact ; some of the 
 skins of the males, and almost all of the older ones, bearing 
 marks of violence, while none were ever to be seen on the 
 skins of the females. 
 
 The Indians add, that the male is as constant as he is jeal- 
 ous, never attaching himself to more than one female ; while 
 the female, on her side, is always fond of strangers. 
 
 The most common way of taking the beaver is that o£ 
 breaking up its house, which is done v/ith tronching-tools, dur- 
 ing ihe winter, when the ice is strong enough to allow of 
 approacli^g them ; and when, also, the fur is in its most valu- 
 able state. 
 
 Breaking up the house, however, is only a preparatory step. 
 
 
 >* 
 
 ^. 
 
312 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 wM- 
 
 ^.*' 
 
 m. 
 
 A- 
 
 If 
 
 During this operation, the family make their escape to one or 
 more of their washes. These are to be discovered by striking 
 the ice along the bank, and where the holes are a hollow 
 sound is returned. After discovering and searching many of 
 these in vain, we often found the whole family together, in the 
 same wash. I was taught occasionally to distinguish a full 
 wash from an empty one, by the motion of the water above its 
 entrance, occasioned by the breathing of the animals concealed 
 in it. From the washes they must be taken out with the 
 hands ; and in doing this, the hunter sometimes receives 
 severe wounds from their teeth. While a hunter, I thought, 
 with the Indians, that the beaver flesh was very good ; but 
 after that of the ox was again within my reach, I could not 
 reli<«h it. The tail is accounted a luxurious morsel. 
 
 Beavers, say the Indians, were formerly a people endowed 
 with speech, not less than with the other noble faculties *hey 
 
 i>ossess ; but the Oreat Spirit has taken this away from them, 
 est they should grow superior in understanding to mankind. 
 
 The raccoon was another object of our chase. It was my 
 practice to go out in the evening, with dogs, accompanied by 
 the youngest son of my guardian, to hunt this animal. The 
 raccoon never leaves its hiding-place till after sunset. 
 
 As soon, as a dog falls on a fresh track of the raccoon, he 
 gives notice by a cry, and immediately puriies. His barking 
 enables the hunter to follow. The raccouu, which travels 
 slowly, and is soon overtaken, makes for a tree, on which he 
 remains till shot. 
 
 After the falling of the snow, nothing more is necessary, for 
 taking the raccoon, thanr to follow the track of his feet. In 
 this season, he seldom leaves his habitation ; and he never 
 lays up any food. I have found six at a time, in the hollow 
 of one tree, lying upon each other, and nearly in a torpid state. 
 In more than one instance, I have ascertained that they have 
 lived six weeks without food. The mouse is their pnncipal 
 prey. 
 
 ]Raccoon hunting was my more particular and daily employ. 
 I usually went out at the first dawn of day, and seldom returned 
 till sunset, or till I had laden myself with as many animals as 
 I could carry. By degrees I became familiarized with this 
 kind of life ; and had it not been'^for the idea, of which I could 
 not divest my mind, that I was living among savages, and for 
 the whispers of a lingering hope, that I should one day be 
 released from it — or if I could have forgotten that I had «ver 
 been otherwise than as I then was — \ could have enjoyed as 
 much happiness in this as in any o^her situation. 
 
 One. evening, on my return froni hunting, I found the fire 
 
 
 "-".4 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 313 
 
 ry, foT 
 It. In 
 never 
 oUow 
 state, 
 have 
 ncipal 
 
 iploy. 
 [turned 
 lals as 
 th this 
 could 
 id for 
 (day be 
 \d ever 
 lyed as 
 
 lefire 
 
 put out, and the opening in the top of the lodge covered over 
 with skins ; by this means excluding, as much as possible, 
 external light. I further observed that the ashes were remov- ^ 
 ed from the fire-place, and that dry sand was spread where 
 they had been. Soon after, a fire was made withoutside the 
 cabm, in the open air, and a kettle hung over it to boil. 
 
 I now supposed that a feast was in prepurution. I supposed 
 80 only, for it would have been indecorous to inquire into 
 the meaning of what I saw. No person, among the Indians 
 themselves, would use this freedom. Good breeding requires 
 that the spectator should patiently wait the result. 
 
 As soon as the darkness of night had arrived, the family, 
 including myself, were invited into the lodge. I was now 
 requested not to speak, as a feast was about to be given to the 
 dead, whose spirits delight in uninterrupted silence. 
 
 As we entered, each was presented with his wooden dish 
 and spoon, after receiving which we seated ourselves. The 
 door was next shut, and we remained in perfect darkness. 
 
 The master of the family was the master of the feast. Still 
 in the dark, he asked every one, by turn, for his dish, and put 
 into each two boiled ears of maize. The whole being served, 
 he began to speak. In his discourse, which lasted half an 
 hour, he called upon the manes of his deceased relations and 
 friends, beseeching them to be present, to assist him in the 
 chase, and to partake of the food which he had prepared for 
 them. When he had ended, we proceeded to eat our maize, 
 which we did without other noise than what was occasioned 
 by our teeth. The maize was not half boiled, and it took me 
 an hour to consume my share. I w^s requested not to break 
 the spikes, [cob,] as this would be displeasing to the departed 
 spirits of their friends. 
 
 When all was eaten, Wawatam made another speech, with 
 which the ceremony ended. A new fire was kindled, with 
 fresh sparks, from flint and steel ; and the pipes being smoked, 
 the spikes were carefully buried, in a hole made in the ground 
 for 'that purpose, within the lodge. This done, the whole 
 family began a dance, Wawatam singing, and beating a drum. 
 The dance continued the greater part of the night, to the 
 great pleasure of the lodge. The night of the feast was that 
 of the first day of November. 
 
 On the twentieth of December, we took an account of the 
 produce of our hunt, and found that we had a hundred beaver 
 skins, q^ many raccoons, and a large quantity of dried veni* *' 
 son ; all which was secured from the wolves, by being placed 
 upon a scaffold. ^^ 
 
 A hunting excursion, into the interior of the cotintry, Waft 
 27 
 
 V- 
 
 ■*"*•;■■ 
 
 fei,.i. 
 
314 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 resolved on ; and early the next morning the bundles were 
 made up by the women for each person to carry. I remarked 
 that the bundle given to me was the lightest, and those carried 
 by the women the largest and heaviest of the whole. 
 
 On the first day of our march, v/e advanced about twenty 
 miles, and then encamped. Being somewhat fatigued, I could 
 not hunt ; but Wawatam killed a stag, not far from our en- 
 campment. The next morning we moved our lodge to the 
 carcass. At this station we remained two days, employed in 
 drying the meat. The method was to cut it into slices, of the 
 thickness of a steak, and then hang it over the fire in the 
 smoke. On the third day we removed, and marched till two 
 o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 While the women were busy in erecting and preparing the 
 lodges, I took my gun and strolled away, telling Wawatam 
 that I intended to look out for some fresh meat for supper. He 
 answered, that he would do the same ; and on this we both 
 left the enci<\mpment, in diflferent directions. 
 
 The sun being visible, I entertained no fear of losing my 
 way ; but in following several tracks of animals, in moment- 
 ary expectation of falling in with the game, I proceeded to a 
 considerable distance, and it was not till near sunset that I 
 thought of returning. The sky, too, had become overcast, and 
 I was therefore left without the sun for my guide. In this situ- 
 ation, I walked as fast as I could, always supposing myself to 
 be approaching our encampment, till at length it became so 
 dark that I ran against the trees. 
 
 I became convinced that I was lost ; and I was alarmed by 
 the reflection that I was in a country entirely strange to me, 
 and in danger from strange Indians. With the flint of my 
 gun I made a fire, and then laid me down to sleep. In the 
 night, it rained hard. I awoke cold and wet ; and as soon as 
 light appeared, I recommenced my journey, sometimes walk- 
 ing and sometimes running, unknowing where to go, bewil- 
 dered, and lik2 a madman. 
 
 Toward evening, I reached the btyrder of a large lake, of 
 which I could scarcely discern the opposite shore. I had 
 never heard of a lake in this part of the country, and there- 
 fore felt myself removed further than ever from the object of 
 my pursuit. To tread back my steps appeared to be the most 
 likely means of delivering myself; and I accordingly deter- 
 mined to turn my face directly from the lake, and keep this 
 # direction as nearly as I could. 
 
 A heavy snow began to descend, and night soon afterward 
 
 * came on. On this, I stopped and made a fire ; and stripping 
 
 a tree of its sheet of bark, lay down under it to shelter me from 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 316 
 
 soon as 
 walk- 
 be wil- 
 
 ake, of 
 I had 
 
 there- 
 iject of 
 e most 
 
 deter- 
 •ep this 
 
 * 
 
 ^erward 
 (ripping 
 e from 
 
 the snow. All night, at small distances, the wolves howled 
 around, and to me seemed to be acquainted with my misfor- 
 tune. 
 
 Amid thoughts the most distracted, I was able at length to 
 fall asleep ; but it was not long before I awoke, refreshed, and 
 wondering at the terror to which I had yielded myself. That 
 I could really have wanted the means of recovering my way, 
 appeared to me almost incredible, and the recollection of it 
 like a dream, or as a circumstance which must have proceeded 
 from the loss of my senses. Had this not happened, I could 
 never, as I now thought, have suffered so long, without calling 
 to mind the lessons which I had received from my Indian 
 friend, for the very purpose of being useful to me in difficul- 
 ties of this kind. These were, that, generally speaking, the 
 tops of pine trees lean toward the rising of the sun ; that moss 
 grows toward the roots of trees on the side which faces the 
 north ; and that the limbs of trees are most numerous, and larg- 
 est, on that which faces the south. 
 
 Determined to direct my feet by these marks, and persuaded 
 that I should thus, sooner or later, reach lake Michigan, which 
 I reckoned to be distant about sixty miles, I began my march 
 at break of day. I had not taken, nor wished to take, any 
 nourishment since I left the encampment ; I had with me my 
 gun and ammunition, and was therefore under no anxiety in 
 regard to food. The snow lay about half a foot in depth. 
 
 My eyes were now employed upon the trees. When their 
 tops leaned different ways, I looked to the moss, or to the 
 branches ; and by connecting one with another, I found the 
 means of travelling v ith some degree of confidence. At four 
 o'clock in the afternoon, the sun, to my inexpressible joy, broke 
 fro.n the clouds, and I had now no further need of examining 
 ihe trees. 
 
 In going down the side of a lofty hill, I saw a herd of red 
 deer approaching. Desirous of killing one of them for food, 
 I hid myself in the bushes, and on a large one coming near, 
 presented my piece, which missed fire, on account of the prim- 
 ing having been wetted. The animals walked along, without 
 taking the least alarm ; and, having reloaded my gun, I fol- 
 lowed them, and presented a second time. But now a disaster 
 of the heaviest kind had befallen me ; for, on attempting to 
 fire, I found that I had lost the cock. I had previously lost 
 the screw by which it was fastened to the lock ; and to prevent 
 this from being lost also, I had tied it in its place, with a lea- 
 ther string. The lock, to prevent its catching in the boughs, 
 I had carried under my molton coat. 
 
 Of all the sufferings which I had experienced, this seemed 
 
 t 
 
 "'*%;', 
 
 
310 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 to me the most severe. I was in a strange country, and knew 
 not how far I had to go. I had been three days without food; 
 I was now without the means of procuring myself either food 
 or fire. Despair had almost overpowered me ; but I soon re- 
 signed myself into the hands of that Providence, whose arm 
 had so often saved me, and returned on my track, in search of 
 what I had lost. My search was in vain, and I resumed my 
 course, wet, cold and hungry, and almost without clothing. 
 
 The sun was setting fast, when I descended a hill, at the 
 bottom of which was a small lake, entirely frozen over. On 
 drawing near, I saw a beaver lodge in the middle, offering 
 some faint prospect of food ; but I found it already broken up. 
 While I looked at it, it suddenly occurred to me that I had 
 seen it before ; and turning my eyes round the place, I dis- 
 covered a small tree which I had myself cut down, in the 
 autumn, when, in company with my friends, I had taken the 
 beaver. I was no longer at a loss, but knew both the distance 
 and the route to the encampment. The latter was only to fol- 
 low the course of a small stream of water, which ran from the 
 encampment to the lake on which I stood. An hour before, I 
 had thought myself the most miserable of men ; and now I 
 leaped for joy, and called myself the happiest. 
 
 The whole of the night, and through all the succeeding day, 
 I walked up the rivulet, and at sunset reached the encampment, 
 where I w as received with the warmest expressions of pleasure 
 by the family, by whom I had been given up for lost, after a 
 long and vain search for me in the woods. 
 
 Some days elapsed, during which I rested myself, and re- 
 cruited my strength ; after this, I resumed the chase, secure 
 that, as the snow had now fallen, I could always return by the 
 way I went. 
 
 In the course of the month of January, I happened to ob- 
 serve that the trunk of a very large pine tree was much torn 
 by the claws of a bear, made both in going up and down. On 
 further examination, I saw that there was a large opening in 
 the upper part, near which the smaller branches were broken. 
 From these marks, and from the additional circumstance that 
 there were no tracks on the snow, there was reason to believe 
 that a bear lay concealed in the tree. 
 
 On returning to the lodge, I communicated my discovery ; 
 
 and it was agreed that all the family should go together in the 
 
 morning, to assist in cutting down the tree, the girth of which 
 
 ** was not less than three fathom. The women at first opposed 
 
 ^ the undertaking, because our axes, being only of a pound and 
 
 '} a half weight, were not well adapted to so lieavy a labor ; but 
 
 die hope of finding a large bear, and obtaining from its fat a 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 317 
 
 tovery ; 
 in the 
 which 
 
 bpposed 
 id and 
 
 )r; but 
 
 Us fat a 
 
 great quantity of oil, an article at the time much wanted, at 
 length prevailed. 
 
 Accordingly, in the morning, we surrounded the tree, both 
 men and women, as many at a time as could conveniently work 
 at it ; and here we toiled like beaver till the sun went down. 
 This day's work carried us about half way through the trunk ; 
 and the next morning we renewed the attack, continuing it till 
 about two o'clock in the afternoon, when the tree fell to the 
 ground. For a few minutes, everything remained quiet, and I 
 feared that all our expectations were disappointed ; but as I 
 advanced to the opening, there came out, to the great satisfac- 
 tion of all our party, a bear of extraordinary size, which, before 
 she had proceeded many yards, I shot. 
 
 The bear being dead, all my assistants approached, and all, 
 but more particularly my old mother, (as I was wont to call 
 her,) took his head in their hands, stroking and kissing it seve- 
 ral times ; begging a thousand pardons for taking away her 
 life ; calling her their relation and grandmother ; and request- 
 ing her not to lay the fault upon them, since it was truly an 
 Englishman that had put her to death. 
 
 This ceremony was not of long duration ; and if it was I 
 that killed their grandmother, they were not themselves behind- 
 hand in what remained to be performed. The skin being taken 
 off, we found the fat in several places six inches deep. This, 
 being divided into two parts, loaded two persons ; and the flesh 
 parts were as much as four persons could carry. In all, the 
 carcass must have exceeded five hundred weight. 
 
 As soon as we reached the lodge, the bear's head was adorn- 
 ed with all the trinkets in the possession of the family, such 
 as silver arm-bands and wrist-bands, and belts of wampum, 
 and then laid upon a scaffold, set up for its reception, within 
 the lodge. Near the nose was placed a large quantity of to- 
 bacco. 
 
 The next morning no sooner appeared than preparations 
 were made for a feast to the manes. The lodge was cleaned 
 and swept ; and the head of the bear lifted up, and a new stroud 
 blanket, which had never been used before, spread under it. 
 The pipes were now lit ; and Wawatam blew tobacco smoke 
 into the nostrils of the bear, telling me to do the same, and 
 thus appease the anger of the bear, on account of my having 
 killed her. I endeavored to persuade my benefactor and 
 friendly adviser that she no longer had any life, and assured 
 him that I was under no apprehension from her displeasure ; 
 but the first proposition obtained no credit, and the second gave 
 but little satisfaction. 
 
 At length, the feast being ready, Wawatam commenced l|^ 
 
 27* 
 
 ■;^M 
 
 ■-«*. 
 
 * -^A,,- . 
 
 
 I 
 
318 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 'A 
 
 speech, resembling in many things his address to the manes 
 of his relations and departed companions ; but having this 
 peculiarity, that he here deplored the necessity under which 
 men labored thus to destroy their friends. He represented, 
 however, that the misfortune was unavoidable, since without 
 doing so they could by no means subsist. The speech ended, 
 we all ate heartily of the bear's flesh ; and even the head itself, 
 after remaining three days on the scaffold, was put into the 
 kettle. 
 
 It is only the female bear that makes her winter lodging in 
 the upper parts of trees, a practice by which her young are 
 secured from the attacks of wolves and other animals. She 
 brings forth in the winter season ; and remains in her lodge 
 till the cubs have gained some strength. 
 
 The male always lodges in the ground, under the roots of 
 trees. He takes to this habitation as soon as the snow falls, 
 tind remains there till it has disappeared. The Indians remark 
 that the bear comes out in the spring with the same fat which 
 he carried in in the autumn, but after exercise of only a fe\y 
 days becomes lean. Excepting for a short part of the season, 
 the male lives constantly alone. 
 
 The fat of our bear was melted down, and the oil filled six 
 porcupine skins. A part of the meat was cut into strips and 
 fire-dried, after which it was put into the vessels containing the 
 oil, where it remained in perfect preservation until the middle 
 of summer. 
 
 February, in the country and by the people where and among 
 whom I was, is called ihe Moon of Hard or Crusted Snow ; 
 for now the snow can bear a man, or at least dogs, in pursuit 
 of animals of the chase. At this season, the stag is very suc- 
 cessfully hunted, his feet breaking through at every step, and 
 the crust upon the snow cutting his legs with its sharp edges 
 to the very bone. He is consequently, in this distress, an easy 
 prey ; and it frequently happened that we killed twelve in the 
 short space of two hours. By this means we were soon put 
 into possession of four thousand weight of dried venison, which 
 was to be carried on our backs, along with all the rest of our 
 wealth, for seventy miles, the distance of our encampment 
 from that part of the lake shore at which in the autumn we 
 left our canoes. This journey it was our next business to per- 
 form. 
 
 Our venison and furs and peltries were to be disposed ■»f at 
 Michilimackinac, and it was now the season for carrying H\evc\. 
 to market. The women therefore prepared our loads ; and 
 the morning of departure being come, we set off at daybreak, 
 and continued our march till two o'clock in the afternoon. 
 
 .■,d.y. 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITy. 
 
 319 
 
 ml 
 
 ^( at 
 Miem 
 
 ; and 
 Ibreak, 
 
 rnoon. 
 
 Where we stopped we erected a scaffold, on which we depo* 
 sited the bundles we had brought, and returned to our encamp* 
 ment, which we reached in the evening. In the morning, we 
 carried fresh loads, which being deposited with the rest, we 
 returned a second time in the evening. This we repeated, till 
 all was forwarded one stage. Then, removing our lodge to 
 the place of deposit, we carried our goods, with the same patient 
 toil, a second stage ; and so on, till we were at no great dis* 
 tance from the shores of the lake. 
 
 Arrived here, we turned our attention to sugar-making, the 
 management of which, as I have before related, belongs to the 
 women, the men cutting wood for the fires, and hunting and 
 fishing. In the midst of this, we were joined by several lodges 
 of Indians, most of whom were of the family to which I be- 
 longed, and had wintered near us. The lands belonged to this 
 family, and it had therefore the exclusive right to hunt on 
 them. This is according to the custom of the people ; for 
 each family has its own lands. I was treated very civilly by 
 all the lodges. 
 
 Our society had been a short time enlarged by this arrival 
 of our friends, when an accident occurred which filled all the 
 village with anxiety and sorrow. A little child, belonging to 
 one of our neighbors, fell into a kettle of boiling syrup. It 
 was instantly snatched out, but with little hope of its recovery. 
 
 So long, however, as it lived, a continual feast was observed ; 
 and this was made to the Great Spirit and Master of Life, that 
 he might be pleased to save and heal the child. At this feast 
 I was a constant guest ; and often found difficulty in eating 
 the large quantity of food which, on such occasions as these, 
 is put upon each man's dish. The Indians accustom them- 
 selves both to eat much and to fast much w'th facility. 
 
 Several sacrifices were also offered ; among which were 
 dogs, killed and hung upon the tops of poles, with the addition 
 of Stroud blankets and other articles. These also were given 
 to the Great Spirit, in humble hope that he would give efficacy 
 to the medicines employed. 
 
 The child died. To preserve the body from the wolves, it 
 was placed upon a scaffold, where it remained till we went to 
 the lake, on the border of which was the burial-ground of the 
 family. 
 
 On our arrival there, which happened in the beginning of 
 April, I did not fail to attend the funeral. The grave was 
 made of a large size, and the whole of the inside lined with 
 birch bark. On the bark was laid the body of the child, ac- 
 companied with an axe, a pair of snow-shoes, a small kettle, 
 several pairs of common shoes, its own strings of beads, and 
 
 •^' 
 
 
 
I 
 
 320 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 because it was a girl, a carrying-belt and a paddle. The ket- 
 tle was filled with meat. 
 
 All this was again covered with bark ; and at about two feet 
 nearer the surface, logs were laid across, and these again cov- 
 ered with bark, so that the earth might by no means fall upon 
 the corpse. 
 
 The last act before the burial performed by the mother, 
 crying over the dead body of her child, was that of taking 
 from it a lock of hair for a memorial. While she did this 1 
 endeavored to console her, by offering the usual arguments : 
 that the child was happy in being released from the miseries of 
 this present life, and that she should forbear to grieve, because 
 it would be restored to her in another world, happy and ever- 
 lasting. She answered that she knew it, and that by the lock 
 of hair she should discover her daughter, for she would take 
 it with her. In this she alluded to the day when some pious 
 hand would place in her own grave, along with the carrying- 
 belt and paddle, this little relic, hallowed by maternal tears. 
 
 I have frequently inquired into the ideas and opinions of 
 the Indians in regard to futurity, and always found that they 
 were somewhat different in different individuals. 
 
 Some suppose their souls to remain in this world, although 
 invisible to human eyes ; and capable, themselves, of seeing 
 and hearing their friends, and also of assisting them, in mo- 
 ments of distress and danger. 
 
 Others dismiss from the mortal scene the unembodied spirit, 
 and send it to a distant world or country, in which it receives 
 reward or punishment, according to the life which it has led 
 in its prior state. Those who have lived virtuously are trans- 
 ported into a place abounding with every luxury, with deer 
 and all other animuls of the woods and water, and where the 
 earth produces, in their greatest perfection, all its sweetest 
 fruits. While, on the other hand, those who have violated or 
 neglected the duties of this life, are removed to a barren soil, 
 where they wander up and down, among rocks and mora&ses; 
 and are stuug by gnats as large as pigeons. 
 
 While we remained on the border of the lake a watch was 
 kept every night, in the apprehension of a speedy attack from 
 the English, who were expected to avenge the massacre of 
 Michilimackinac. The immediate grounds of this apprehen- 
 sion were the constant dreams, to this effect, of the more aged 
 women. I endeavored to persuade them that nothing of the 
 kind would take place ; but their fears were not to be subdued. 
 
 Amid these alarms, there came a report concerning a real 
 though less formidable enemy discovered in our neighborhood. 
 This was a panther, which one of our young men had seen, 
 
 i I 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 331 
 
 h was 
 c from 
 ere of 
 rehen- 
 e aged 
 of the 
 bdued. 
 a real 
 rhood. 
 i seeii} 
 
 and vhich animal sometimes attacks and carries away the 
 Indian children. Our camp was immediately on the alert, and 
 we set off into the woods, about twenty in number. We had 
 not proceeded more than a mile before the dogs found the pan- 
 ther, and pursued him to a tree, on which he was shot. He 
 was of a large size. 
 
 On the twenty-fifth of April we embarked for Michilimacki- 
 nac. At La Grande Traverse we met a large party of Indians, 
 who appeared to labor, like ourselves, under considerable 
 alarm ; and who dared proceed no further, lest they should be 
 destroyed by the English. Frequent councils of the united 
 bands were held; and interrogations were continually put to 
 myself as to whether or not I knew of any design to attack 
 them. I found that they believed it possible for me to have a 
 foreknowledge of events, and to be informed by dreams of all 
 things doing at a distance. 
 
 Protestations of my ignorance were received with but little 
 satisfaction, and incurred the suspicion of a design to conceal 
 my knowledge. On this account, therefore, or because I saw 
 them tormented with fears which had nothing but imagination 
 to rest upon, I told them, at length, that I knew there was no 
 enemy to insult them ; and that they might proceed to Michili- 
 mackinac without danger from the English. I further, and 
 with more confidence, declared that if ever my countrymen 
 returned to Michilimackinac I would recommend them to their 
 favor, on account of the good treatment which I had received 
 from them. Thus encouraged, they embarked at an early hour 
 the next morning. In crossing the bay we experienced a storm 
 of thunder and lightning. 
 
 Our port was the village of L'Arbre Croche, which we 
 reached in safety, and where we staid till the following day. 
 At this village we found several persons who had been lately 
 at Michilimackinac, and from them we had the satisfaction of 
 learning that all was quiet there. The remainder of our voy- 
 age was therefore performed with confidence. 
 
 In the evening of the twenty-seventh we landed at the fort, 
 which now contained only two French traders. The Indians 
 who had arrived b'Tore us were very few in number ; and by 
 all, who were of our party, I was used very kindly. I had 
 the entire freedom both of the fort and camp. 
 
 Wawatam and myself settled our stock, and paid our debts ; 
 and this done, I found that my share of what was left consisted 
 in a hundred beaver-skins, sixty raccoon-skins, and six otter, 
 of the total value of about one hundred and sixty doljf^rs^ ♦ 
 With these earnings of my winter's toil I proposed to purchas^j^^^ 
 clothes, of which I was much in need, having been six montht! < 
 
322 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 4 
 
 without a shirt; but, on inquiring into the prices of goods, I 
 found that all my funds would not go far. I was able, how- 
 ever, to buy two shirts, at ten pounds of beaver each ; a pair 
 of leggins, or pantaloons, of scarlet cloth, which, with the 
 ribbon to garnish ihem fashionably, cost me fifteen pounds of 
 beaver ; a blanket, at twenty pounds of beaver ; and some other 
 articles, at proportionable rates. In this manner my wealth 
 was soon reduced ; but not before I had laid in a good stock of 
 ammunition and tobacco. To the use of the latter I had be- 
 come much attached during the winter. It was my principal 
 recreation after returning from the chase ; for my companions 
 in the lodge were unaccustomed to pass the time in conversa- 
 tion. Among the Indians the topics of conversation are but 
 few, and limited, for the most part, to tl 3 transactions of the 
 day, the number of animals which they have killed, and of 
 those which have escaped their pursuit, aftd other incidents of 
 the chase. Indeed, the causes of taciturnity among the Indians 
 may be easily understood, if we consider now many occasions 
 of speech, which present themselves to us, are utterly unknown 
 to them : the records of history, the pursuits of science, the 
 disquisitions of philosophy, the systems of politics, the busi- 
 ness and the amusements of the day, and the transactions of 
 the four corners of the world. 
 
 Eight days had passed in tranquillity, when there arrived a 
 band of Indians from the Bay of Saguenaum. They had 
 assisted at the siege of Detroit, and came to muster as many 
 recruits for that service as they could. For my own part, I 
 was soon informed that, as I was the only Englishman in the 
 place, they proposed to kill me, in order to give their friends 
 a mess of English broth to raise their courage. 
 
 This intelligence was not of the most agreeable kind ; and 
 in consequence of receiving it, I requested my friend to carry 
 me to the Sault de Sainte-Marie, at which place I knew the 
 Indians to be peaceably inclined, and that M. Cadotte enjoyed 
 a powerful influence over their conduct. They considered M. 
 Cadotte as their chief; and he was not only my friend, but a 
 friend to the English. It was by him that the Chippeways of 
 lake Superior were prevented from joining Pontiac. 
 
 Wawatam was not slow to exert himself for my preserva- 
 tion, but, leaving Michilimackinac in the night, transported 
 myself and all his lodge to Point Saint-Ignace, on th- opposite 
 side of the strait. Here we remained till daylight, and then 
 went into the Bay of Boutchitaouy, in which we spent three 
 days in fishing and hunting, and where we found plenty of 
 wild-fowl. Leaving the bay, we made for the Isle aux Ou- 
 tardes, where we were obliged to put in, on account of the 
 
 s"- 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 323 
 
 Dods, I 
 i, how- 
 
 a pair 
 ith the 
 inds of 
 le other 
 
 wealth 
 stock of 
 had be- 
 rincipal 
 panions 
 )nversa- 
 
 are but 
 s of the 
 
 and of 
 dents of 
 
 Indians 
 ccasions 
 inknown 
 ince, the 
 the busi- 
 ctions of 
 
 ^rrived a 
 hey had 
 as many 
 m part, I 
 an in the 
 ir friends 
 
 ind; and 
 to carry 
 new the 
 enjoyed 
 
 [dered M. 
 nd, but a 
 eways of 
 
 Ipreserva- 
 insported 
 opposite 
 land then 
 lent three 
 Iplenty of 
 aux Ou- 
 lint of the 
 
 
 wind's coming ahead. We propos. i sailing for the Sault the 
 next morning. 
 
 But when the morning came, Wawatam's wife complained 
 that she was sick, adding, that shs had had bad dreams, and 
 knew that if we went to the Sault we should all be destroyed. 
 To have argued, at this time, against the infallibility of dreams, 
 would have been extremely unadvisable, since I should have 
 appeared to be guilty not only of an odious want of faith, but 
 also of a still more odious want of sensibility to the possible 
 calamities of a family which had done so much for the alle- 
 viation of mine. I was silent ; but the disappointment seemed 
 to seal my fate. No prospect opened to console me. To 
 return to Michilimackinac could only ensure my destruction ; 
 and to remain at the island was to brave almost equal danger, 
 since it lay in the direct route between the fort and the Mis- 
 sisaki, along which the Indians from Detroit were hourly 
 expected to pass on the business of their mission. I doubted 
 not but, taking advantage of the solitary situation of the family, 
 they would carry into execution their design of killing me. 
 
 Unable thr ^fore to take any part in the direction of our 
 course, but a prey at the same tim>. to the most anxious 
 thoughts as to my own condition^ I passed all the day on the 
 highest part to which I could climb of a tall tree, and whence 
 the lake, on both sides of the island, lay open to my view. 
 Here I might hope to learn, at the earliest possible, the ap- 
 proach of canoes, and by this means be warned in time to con- 
 ceal myself. 
 
 On the second morning I returned, as soon as it was light, 
 to my watch-tower, on which I had not been long before I 
 discovered a sail coming from Michilimackinac. 
 
 The sail wa^ a white one, and much larger than those 
 usually employed by the Northern Indians. I therefore in- 
 dulged a hope that it might be a Canadian canoe, on it« voyage 
 to Montreal ; and that I might be able to prevail upon the 
 crew to take me with them, and thus release me from all my 
 troubles. 
 
 My hopes continued to gain ground ; for I soon persuaded 
 myself that the manner in which the paddles were used, on 
 board the canoe, was Canadian, and not Indian. My spirits 
 were elated ; but disappointmenL had become so usual with 
 me that I could not suffer myself to look to the event with any 
 strength of confidence 
 
 Enough, however, appeared at length to demonstrate itself 
 to induce me to descend the tree, and repair to the lodge, with 
 my tidings and schemes of liberty. The family congratulated 
 me on the approach of so fair an op]^ortunity of escape ; and 
 
 (|t^ 
 
 M 
 
 ^- 
 
 
 
 
 
■M 
 ■1 
 
 324 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ' 
 
 
 
 *,' 
 
 my father and brother (for he was alternately each of these) 
 lit his pipe, and presented it to me, saying, " My son, this 
 may be the last time that ever you and I shall smoke out of 
 the same pipe ! I am sorry to part with you. You know the 
 affection which I have always borne you, and the dangers to 
 which I have exposed myself and family, to preserve you from 
 your enemies ; and I am happy to find that my efforts promise 
 not to have been in vain." At this time a boy came into the 
 lodge, informing us that the canoe had come from Michili- 
 mackinac, and was hound to the Sault de Sainte-Marie. It 
 was manned by three Canadians, and was carrying home 
 Madame Cadotte, the wife of M. Cadotte, already mentioned. 
 
 My hopes of going to Montreal being now dissipated, I 
 resolved on accompanying Madame Cadotte, with her permis- 
 sion, to the Sault. On communicp'ing my wishes to Madame 
 Cadotte, she cheerfully acceded to them. Madame Cadotte, 
 as I have already mentioned, was an Indian woman of the 
 Chippeway nation, and she was very generally respected. 
 
 My departure 6xed upon, I returned to the lodge, where I 
 packed up my wardrobe, consisting of my two shirts, pair of 
 legging, and blanket. Besides these, I took a gun and am'' 
 munition, presenting what remained further to my host. I also 
 returned the silver arm-bands with which the family had 
 decorated me the year before. 
 
 We now exchanged farewells with an emotion entirely 
 reciprocal. I did not quit the lodge without the most gratef\il 
 sense of the many acts of goodness which I had experienced 
 in it, nor without the sincerest respect for the virtues which I 
 had witnessed among its members. All the family accom- 
 panied me to the beach ; and the canoe had no sooner put ofi* 
 than Wawatam commenced an address to the Kichi Manito, 
 beseeching him to take care of me, his brother, till we should 
 next meet. This he had told me would not be long, as he 
 intended to return to Michilimackinac for a short time only, 
 and would then follow me to the Sault. We had proceeded 
 to too great a distance to allow of our hearing his voice before 
 Wawatam j^ad ceased to offer up his prayers. 
 
 Being now no longer in the society of the Indians, I laid 
 aside the dress> putting on that of a Canadian : a molton or 
 blanket coat, over my shirt ; and a handkerchief about my 
 head, hats being very little worn in this country. 
 
 ^At daybreak, on the second morning of our voyage, wft 
 etnbarked, and presently perceived several canoes behind us. 
 As they dpproached, we ascertained them to be the fleet, 
 bouivd for the Missisaki, of which I had been so long in dtetd. 
 It amountod' to twenty s|iL ,f.- 
 
 
 ». •* 
 
 
 
 4 
 
these) 
 n, this 
 out of 
 ow the 
 gets to 
 lu from 
 )romi8e 
 nto the 
 ^ichili- 
 rie. It 
 r home 
 tioned. 
 )ated, I 
 permifl- 
 \ladame 
 Cadctte, 
 1 of the 
 ted. 
 
 where I 
 , pair of 
 ind am" 
 :. I al6o 
 lily had 
 
 entirely 
 gratef\il 
 lerienced 
 which I 
 accom- 
 [r put off 
 Manito, 
 [e ahould 
 ig, as he 
 Ime only, 
 Iroceeded 
 :,e before 
 
 IS, I laid 
 jolton or 
 jout my 
 
 ffkge, wft 
 shind us. 
 khe fleet, 
 [iti dtead. 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 325 
 
 On corning up with us, and surrounding our canoe, and 
 amid general inquiries concev ing the news, an Indian chal- 
 lenged me for an Englishrridn, and his companions support- 
 ed him, by declaring that I looked very like one; lut I 
 afTected not to understand any of the questions which they 
 asked me, and Madame Cadotte assured them- that I was a 
 Canadian, whom she had brought on his first voyage from 
 Montreal. 
 
 The following day saw us safely landed at the Sault, where 
 I experienced a generous welcome from M. Cadotte. There 
 were thirty warriors at this place, restrained from joining in 
 the war only by M. Cadotte's influence. 
 
 Here, for five days, I wes once more in possession of tran- 
 quillity; but on the sixth a young Indian came into M. 
 Cadotte's, saying that a canoe full of warriors had just arrived 
 from Michilimackinac ; that they had inquired for me ; and that 
 he believed their intentions to be bad. Nearly at the same time, 
 a message came from the good chief of the village, desiring me 
 to conceal myself until he should discover the views and tem- 
 per of the strangers. 
 
 A garret was the second time my place of refuge ; and it 
 was not long before the Indians came to M. Cadotte's. My 
 friend immediately informed Mutchikiwish, their chief, who 
 was related to his wife, of the design imputed to them, 
 of mischief against myself Mutchikiwish frankly acknow- 
 ledged that they had had ^uch a design ; but added that if 
 displeasing to M. Cadotte, it should be abandoned. He then 
 further stated, that their errand was to raise a party of war- 
 riors to return with them to Detroit ; and that it had been their 
 intention to take me with them 
 
 In regard to the principal of the two objects thus disclosed, 
 M. Cadotte proceeded to assemble all the chiefs and warriors 
 of the village ; and these, after deliberating for some time 
 among themselves, sent Tor the strangers, to whom both M. 
 Cadotte and the chief of the village addressed a speech. In 
 these speeches, after recurring to the designs confessed to have 
 been entertained against myself, who was now declared to be 
 under the immediate protection of all the chiefs, by whom any 
 insult I might sustain v/ould be avenged, the ambassadors 
 were peremptorily told that they might go back as they came, 
 none of the young men of this village being foolish enough. 
 ^0 join them. * 
 
 A moment after, a report was brought, that a canoe had just 
 arrived from Niagara. As this was a place from which every 
 one was anxious to hear news, a message was sent to these, 
 fresh strangers, requesting them to come to the cooncil. 
 
 OQ » -.^ 
 
 28 
 
 ;*■-*■ 
 
 ■4, 
 
 
 «." 
 
 .1* 
 t 
 
 
326 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 .* \.. 
 
 n-- 
 
 The strangers came accordingly, and being seated, a long 
 silence, ensued. At length, one of them, taking up a belt of 
 wampum, addressed himself thus to the assembly : •' My 
 friends and brothers, I am come, with this belt, from our 
 great father, Sir William Johnson. He desired me to come 
 to you as his .ambassador, and tell you that he is making a 
 great feast at fort Niagara ; that his kettles are all ready, and 
 his fires lit. He invites you to partake of the feast, in com- 
 mon with your friends, the Six Nations, which have all made 
 peace with the English. He advises you to seize this oppor- 
 tunity of doing the same, as you cannot otherwise fail of being 
 destroyed ; fur the English are on their march, with a great 
 army, which will be joined by different nations of Indians. 
 In a word, before the fall of the leaf, they will be at Michili- 
 mackinac, and the Six Nations with them." 
 
 The tenor of this speech greatly alarmed the Indians of the 
 Sault, who, after a very short consultation, agreed to send twenty 
 deputies to Sir William Johnson, at Niagara. This was a 
 project highly interesting to me, since it offered me the means 
 of leaving the country. I intimated this to the chief of the 
 village, and received his promise that I should accompany the 
 deputation. 
 
 Very little time was proposed to be lost, in setting forward 
 
 on the voyage ; but the occasion was of too much magnitude 
 
 , not to call for more than human knowledge and discretion ; 
 
 and preparations were accordingly n^ade for solemnly invoking 
 
 and consulting the Great Turtle. 
 
 For invoking and consulting the Great Turtle, the first thing 
 to be done was the building of a large house or wigwam, 
 within which was placed a species of tent, for the use of the 
 priest and reception of the spirit. The tent was formed of 
 moose-skins, hung over a frame-work of wood. Five poles, or 
 rather pillars, of five different species of timber, about ten feet 
 in height, and eight inches in diameter, were set in a circle 
 of about four feet in diameter. The holes made to re- 
 ceive them were about two feel deep ; and the pillars being 
 set, the holes were filled up again, with the earth which had 
 been dug out. At top the pillars were bound together by a 
 circular hoop, or girder. Over the whole of this edifice were 
 spread the moose-skins, covering it at top and round the sides, 
 and made fast with thongs of the same ; except that on one side 
 .a part was left unfastened, to admit of the entrance of the priest. 
 
 ^€f ceremonies did not commence but with the apt /roach of 
 flight*^, fta^ve light within the house, several fires were kin- 
 dled'-rojpipd uie tent. Nearly the whole village asiembled in 
 the^ftuse^* ^od myself among the rest. It was not long before 
 
 He 
 
 
 # 
 
 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 327 
 
 I long 
 belt of 
 
 •'My 
 B our 
 
 come 
 king a 
 [y, and 
 I com- 
 i made 
 oppor- 
 f being 
 1 great 
 ndians. 
 dichili- 
 
 I of the 
 twenty 
 was a 
 s means 
 ■ of the 
 any the 
 
 forward 
 gnitude 
 jretion ; 
 [ivoking 
 
 St thing 
 igwam, 
 of the 
 rmed of 
 )oles, or 
 ten feet 
 , circle 
 to re- 
 being 
 ich had 
 ler by a 
 e were 
 sides, 
 one side 
 priest, 
 oach of 
 ere kin- 
 ibled in 
 before 
 
 s 
 
 the priest appeared, almost in a state of nakedness. As he 
 approached the tent the skins were lifted up, as much as was 
 necessary to allow of his creeping under them, on his hands 
 and knees. His head was scarcely withinside, when the 
 edifice, massy as it has been described, began to shake ; and 
 the skins were no sooner let fall, than the sounds of numerous 
 voices were heard beneath them, some yelling, some barking 
 as dogs, some howling like wolves, and in this horrible con- 
 cert were mingled screams and sobs, as of despair, anguish 
 and the sharpest pain. Articulate speech was also uttered, as 
 if from human lips, but in a tongue unknown to any of the 
 audience. 
 
 After some time, these confused and frightful noises were 
 succeeded by a perfect silence ; and now a voice, not heard 
 before, seemed to manifest the arrival of a new character in 
 the tent. This was a low and feeble voice, resembling the 
 cry of a young puppy. The sound was no sooner distin- 
 guished, tnan all the Indians clapped their hands for joy, ex- 
 claiming, that this was the Chief Spirit, the Turtle, the spirit 
 that never lied ! Other voices, which they had discriminated 
 from tim3 to time, they had previously hissed, as recognising 
 them to belong to evil and lying spirits, which deceive man- 
 kind. 
 
 New sounds came from the tent. During the space of half 
 an hour, a succession of songs were heard, in which a diver- 
 sity of voices met the ear. From his first entrance, till these 
 songs were finished, we heard nothing in the proper voice of 
 the priesi ; but now, he addressed the multitude, declaring the 
 presence of the Great Turtle, and the spirit's readiness to 
 answer such questions as should be proposed. 
 
 The questions were to come from the chief of the village, 
 who was sile: t, however, till after he had put a large quantity 
 of tobacco into the tent, introducing it at the aperture. This 
 was a sacrifice offered to the spirit ; for spirits are supposed 
 by the Indians to be as fond of tobacco as themselves. The 
 tobacco accepted, he desired the priest to inquire whether or 
 not the English were preparing to make war upon the Indians ; 
 and whether or not there were at fort Niagara a large num- 
 ber of English troops. 
 
 These questions having been put by the priest, the tent 
 instantly shook ; and for some seconds after it continued to 
 rock so violently that I expected to see it levelled withith^ 
 ground. All this was a prelude, as I supposed, to the answers' 
 to be gtven ; but a terrific cry announced, ^ilfh ^^cijeUlt 
 intelligibility, the departure of the Turtle. 
 
 A quarter of an hour elapsed in silence, s 
 
 * * ' 
 
 J^itedl 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
328 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 
 •p^ 
 
 tiently to discover what was to be the next incident in thia 
 •cene of imposture. It consisted in the return of the spirit, 
 whose voice was again heard, and who now delivered a con- 
 tinued speech. The language of the Great Turtle, like 
 that which we had heard hcfurc, was wholly unintelligible to 
 every ear, that of his priest excepted ; and it was, therefore, 
 not till the latter gave us an interpretation, which did not 
 commence before the spirit had finished, that we learned the 
 purport of this extraordinary communication. 
 
 The spirit, as wo were now informed by the priest, had, 
 during his short absence, crossed lake Huron, and even pro- 
 ceeded ns far as fort Niagara, which is at the head of lake 
 Ontario, and thence to Montreal. At fort Niagara, he had 
 seen no great number of soldiers ; but on descending the St. 
 Lawrence, as low as Montreal, he had found the river covered 
 with boats, and the boats filled with soldiers, in number like 
 the leaves of the trees. He had met them on their way up 
 the river, coming to make war upon the Indians. 
 
 The chief had a third question to propose, and the spirit, 
 without a fresh journey to fort Niagara, was able to give an 
 instant and most favorable answer. '* If," said the chief, " the 
 Indians visit Sir William Johnson, will they be received as 
 friends ?" 
 
 " Sir William Johnson," said the spirit, (and after the spirit 
 the priest,) '• Sir William Johnson will fill their canoes with 
 
 { presents, with blankets, kettles, guns, gunpowder and shot, and 
 arge barrels of rum, such as the stoutest of the Indians will 
 not be able to lift; and every man will return in safety to his 
 family." 
 
 At this, the transport was universal ; and, amid the clap- 
 ping of hands, a hundred voices exclaimed, " I will go, too ! 
 1 will go too !" 
 
 The questions of public interest being resolved, individuals 
 were now permitted to seize the opportunity of inquiring into 
 the condition of their absent friends, and the fate of such as 
 were sick. I observed that the answers, given to these ques- 
 tions, allowed of much latitude of interpretation. 
 
 Amid this general inquisitiveness, I yielded to the solicita- 
 tions of my own anxiety for the future ; and having first, like 
 the rest, made my offering of tobacco, I inquired whether or 
 not I should ever revisit my native country. The question 
 being put by the priest, the tent shook as usual ^^ after which 
 I received this answer : " That I should take courage, and fear 
 no dapger, for that nothing would happen to hurt me ; and that 
 I should, in the end, reach my friends and country in safety." 
 
 t 
 
 «* 
 
 »<i» 
 
 
 
ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 329 
 
 ividuals 
 \g into 
 ^uch as 
 ques- 
 
 plicita- 
 •st, like 
 Ither or 
 juestion 
 which 
 Ind fear 
 lind that 
 safety." 
 
 These assurances wrought so strongly on my gratitude, that I 
 presented an additional and extra oHering of tobticro. 
 
 The Great Turtle continued to be consulted till near mid- 
 night, when all the crowd dispersed to their respective lodges. 
 I was on the watch, through the scene I have described, to 
 detect the particular contrivances by which the fraud was 
 carried on ; b«it such was the skill displayed in the perform- 
 ance, or such my deficiency of penetration, that I made 
 no discoveries, but came away as I went, with no more than 
 those general surmises which will naturally be entertained by 
 every reader.* 
 
 On the 10th of June, I embarked with the Indian deputa- 
 tion, composed of sixteen men. Tweniy had been the num- 
 ber originally designee' ; and upward of fifty actually engai^ed 
 themselves to the council for the undertaking ; to say nothing 
 of the general enthusiasm, at the moment of hearing the 
 Great Turtle's promises. But exclusively of the degree of 
 timidity which still prevailed, we are to take into account the 
 various domestic calls, which might supersede all others, and 
 detain many with their families. 
 
 In the evening of the second day of our voyage, we reached 
 the mouth of the Missisaki, where we found about forty 
 Indians, by whom we were received with abundant kindness, 
 and at night regaled at a great feast, held on account of our 
 arrival. The viand was a preparation of the roe of the stur- 
 geon, beat up, and boiled, and of the consistence of porridge. 
 
 After eating, several speeches were made to us, of which 
 the general topic was a request that we should recommend the 
 village to Sir William Johnson. This request was also spe- 
 cially addressed to me, and I promised to comply with it. 
 
 On the 14th of June, we passed the village of La Cloche, 
 of which the greater part of the inhabitants were absent, being 
 already on a visit to Sir William Johnson. This circumstance 
 greatly encouraged the companions of my voyage, who now 
 saw that they were not the first to run into danger. 
 
 The next day, about noon, the wind blowing very hard, we 
 were obliged to put ashore at Point aux Grondines, a place of 
 
 * M. de Champlain has left an account of an exhibition of the nature 
 here described, which may be seen in Charlevoix's Histoire et Description 
 Generale de la Nouvelle France, livre IV. This took place in the year 
 1609, and was performed among a party of warriors, conj posed of Algon- 
 quins, Montagaez and Hurons. Carver witnessed another, among the 
 Christinaux. fn each case, the details are somewhat different, but the 
 outline is the same. M. de Champlain mentions that he saw the jongleur 
 shake the stakes or pillars of Ae tent. I was not so forttmate ; but this 
 is the obvious explanation of that part of the mystery to which it refers. 
 Captain Carver leaves the whole in darkness, 
 
 28* " • ■■: 
 
 
 
 i'1 
 
 ^fim-' 
 
 
890 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ■^f* 
 
 -*v 
 
 which some description has been given above. While the In- 
 dians erected a hut, I employed myself in making a fire. As 
 I was gathering wood, an unusal sound fixed my attention for 
 a moment ; but, as it presently ceased, and as I saw nothing 
 from which I could suppose it to proceed, I continued my em- 
 ployment, till, advancing further, I was alarmed by a repetition. 
 I imagined that it came from above my head ; but after look- 
 ing that way in vain, I cast my eyes on the ground, and there 
 discovered a rattlesnake, at not more than two feet from my 
 naked legs. The reptile was coiled, and its head raised con- 
 siderably above its body. Had I advanced another step before 
 my discovery, I must have trodden upon it. 
 
 I no sooner saw the snake than I hastened to the canoe, in 
 order to procure my gun ; but the Indians, observing what I 
 was doing, inquired the occasion, and being informed, begged 
 me to desist. At the same time they followed me to the spot, 
 with their pipes and tobacco-pouches in their hands. On re- 
 turning, I found the snake still coiled. . 
 
 The Indians, on their part, surrounded it, all addressing it 
 by turns and calling it their grandfather ; but yet keeping at 
 some distance. During this part of the ceremony they filled 
 their pipes ; and now each blew the smoke toward the snake, 
 who, as it a;ppeared to me, really received it w^ith pleasure. In 
 a! word, after remaining coiled, and receiving incensl;, for the 
 space of half an hour, it stretched itself along the-ground in 
 visible good humor. Its length was between four and five feet. 
 Having remained outstretched for some time, at last it moved 
 slowly away, the Indians following it, and still addressing it by 
 the title of grandfather, beseeching it to take care of their 
 families during their absence, and to be pleased to open the 
 heart of Sir William Johnson, so that he might show them 
 charity, and fill their canoe with ruin. 
 
 One of the chiefs added a petition that the snake would take 
 no notice of the insult which had been offered him by the 
 Englishman, who would even have put him to death but for 
 the interference of the Indians, to whom it was hoped he would 
 impute no part of the offence. They further requested that he 
 would remain and inhabit their country, and not return among 
 the English, that is, go eastward. 
 
 After the rattlesnake was gone, I learned that this was the 
 first time that an individual of the species had been seen so far 
 to the northward and westward of the river Des Fran^ais ; a 
 circumstance, moreover, from which my companions were dis- 
 posed to infer that this manito had|Come or been sent on pur- 
 pose to meet them ; that his errandrnad been no other than to 
 stop them on their way ; and that consequently it would be 
 
 
 % 
 
[le In- 
 . As 
 
 on for 
 Bthing 
 ly em- 
 itition. 
 r look- 
 l there 
 jm my 
 ;d con- 
 before 
 
 noe, in 
 what I 
 begged 
 le spot, 
 On re- 
 
 issing it 
 jping at 
 ey filled 
 ?. snake, 
 ire-. In 
 , for the 
 ',und in 
 ve feet. 
 It moved 
 |hg it by 
 of their 
 ipen the 
 w them 
 
 lid take 
 by the 
 but for 
 
 le would ^ 
 that he 
 among 
 
 I was the 
 \n so far 
 (icjais ; a 
 [rere dis- 
 on pur- 
 than to 
 Luld be 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 331 
 
 most advisable to return to the point of departure. I was so 
 fortunate, however, as to prevail with them to embark ; and at 
 six o'clock in the evening we again encamped. Very little 
 was spoken of through the evening, the rattlesnake excepted. 
 
 Early the next morning we proceeded. We had a serene 
 sky and very little wind, and the Indians therefore determined 
 on steering across the lake to an island which just appeared in 
 the horizon ; saving, by this course, a distance of thirty miles, 
 which would be lost in keeping the shore. At nine o'clock, A. 
 M. we had a light breeze astern, to enjoy the benefit of which 
 we hoisted sail. Soon after the wind increased, and the In- 
 dians, beginning to be alarmed, frequently called on the rattle- 
 snake to come to their assistance. By degrees the waves grew 
 high ; and at eleven o'clock it blew a hurricane, and we ex- 
 pected every moment to be swallowed up. From prayers the 
 Indians now proceeded to sacrifices, both alike offered to the 
 god rattlesnake, or manito kinibic. One of the chiefs took a 
 dog, and after tying its fore legs together threw it overboard, 
 at the same time calling on the snake to preserve us from being 
 drowned, and desiring him to satisfy his hunger with the car- 
 cass of the dog. The snake was unpropitious, and the wind 
 increased. Another chief sacrificed another dog, with the 
 addition of some tobacco. In the prayer which accompanied 
 these gifts, he besought the snake, as before, not to avenge upon 
 the Indians the insult which he had received from myself, in 
 the conception of a design to put him to death. He assured 
 thjB snake that I was absolutely an Englishman, and of kin 
 neither to him nor to them. 
 
 At the conclusion of this speech, an Indian who sat near me 
 observed, ihat if we were drowned it would be for my fault 
 alone, and that I ought myself to be sacrificed, to appease the 
 angry manito ; nor was I without apprehensions that in case 
 of extremity this would be my fate "; but, happily for me, the 
 storm at length abated, and we reached the island safely. 
 
 The next day was calm, and we arrived at tha entrance* of 
 the navii>^ation which leads to lake Aux Claies.t We present- 
 ify passed two short carrying-places, at each of which were 
 several lodges of Indians, t containing only women and children, 
 the men bping gone to the council at Niagara. From this, as 
 from a former instance, my companions derived new courage. 
 
 * This is the bay of Matchedash, or Matchitashk. 
 
 t This lake, which is now called lake Simcoe, lies between lakes Hu- 
 ron and Ontario. 
 
 I These Indians are Chippaifrays, of the particular description called 
 Missisakies ; and from then- residence at IMatchedash, or Matchitashkf 
 also called Matchedash or Matchitashk Indians. ^, r£iu 
 
 iSr 
 
 • 4 
 
332 
 
 ALEXANDER HENRY'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 f 
 
 On the 18th of June, we crossed lake Aux dales, which 
 appeared to he upward of twenty miles in length. At its fur- 
 ther end we came to the carrying-place of Toranto.* Here 
 the Indians obliged me to carry a burden of more than a hun- 
 dred pounds weight. The day was very hot, and the woods 
 and marshes abounded with mosquitoes; but the Indians 
 walked at a quick pace, and I could by no means see myself 
 left behind. The whole country was a thick forest, through 
 which our only road was a foot-path, or such as, in America, is 
 exclusively termed an Indian path. 
 
 Next morning at ten o'clock we reached the shore of lake 
 Ontario. Here we were employed two days in making canoes 
 out of the bark of the elm tree, in which we were to transport 
 ourselves to Niagara. For this purpose the Indians first cut 
 down a tree ; then stripped off the bark in one entire sheet of 
 about eighteen feet in length, the incision being lengthwise. 
 The canoe was now complete as to its top, bottom, and sides. 
 Its ends were next closed by sewing the uark together ; and a 
 few ribs and bars being introduced, the architecture was finish- 
 ed. In this manner we made two canoes, of which one car- 
 ried eight men and the other nine. 
 
 On the 21st, we embarked at Toranto, and encamped in the 
 evening four miles short of fort Niagara, which the Indians 
 would not approach till morning. 
 
 At dawn, the Indians were awake, and presently assembled 
 in council, still doubtful as to the fate they were to encounter. 
 I assured them of the most friendly welcome ; and at length, 
 after painting themselves with the most lively colors, in token 
 of their own peaceable views, and after singing the song which 
 is in use among them on going into danger, they embarked, 
 and made for point Missisaki, which is on the north side of 
 the mouth of the river or strait of Niagara, as the fort is on 
 the south. A few minutes after I crossed over to the fort ; and 
 here I was received by Sir William Johnson, in a manner for 
 which I have ever' been gratefully attached "^^o his person and 
 memory. 
 
 Thus was completed my escape from the sufferings and 
 dangers which the captiilre of fort Michilimackinac brought 
 upon me ; but the property which I had carried into the upper 
 country was left behind. >. The readet will therefore be far 
 from attributing- to me *hy idle or unaccountable motive, when 
 he finds me returning to the scene of my misfortunes. 
 
 4^ 
 • Toranto, or Toronto, is the name of 
 
 Ontario, built near the site of the present 
 
 province of Upper Canada. [It is one 
 
 that nrovince at this time. — Ed.] 
 
 Srenc 
 n of 
 tie I 
 
 rench trading-Jbonse on lake 
 ' York, the capital of the 
 most important places in 
 
 
333 
 
 js and 
 [rought 
 
 upper 
 I be far 
 
 when 
 
 Ion lake 
 Llof the 
 llacesiB 
 
 U 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 OF THE CAPTIVITY OP FREDERICK MANHEIM. 
 
 Frederick Manheim, an industrious German, with his fam- 
 ily, consisting of his wife, a daughter of eighteen years oi age, 
 and Maria and Christina, hJs youngest children, (twins,) about 
 sixteen, resided near the river Mohawk, eight miles west of 
 Johnston. On the 19th of October, 1779, the father being at 
 work at some distance from his habitation, and the mother and 
 eldest daughter on a visit at a neighbor's, two hostile Cana- 
 sadaga Indians rushed in and captured the twin sisters. 
 
 The party to which these savages belonged consisted of fifty 
 warriors, who, after securing twenty-three of the inhabitants 
 of that neighborhood, (among whom was the unfortunate Fre- 
 derick Manheim,) and firing their houses, retired for four days 
 with the utmost precipitancy, till they were quite safe from 
 pursuit. The place where they halted on the evening of the 
 day of rest was a thick pine swamp,"which rendered the dark- 
 ness of an uncommonly gloomy night still more dreadful. 
 The Indians kindled a fire, which they had not done before, 
 and ordered their prisoners, whom they kept together, to 
 refresh themselves with such provisions as they had. The 
 Indians eat by themselves. After supper the appalled captives 
 observed their enemies, instead of retiring to rest, busied in 
 operations vvhich boded iflhing good. Two saplings were 
 pruned clear of br^^ches up to the very top, and all the brush 
 cleared away for several rods around them. While this was 
 
 # 
 
 % 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 \\ 
 
 *^-> 
 
 "v*.';' 
 
 I 
 
334 
 
 MRS. BOZARTH'S EXPLOIT. 
 
 doing, others were splitting pitch-pine billets into small splinters 
 about five inches in length, and as small as one's little finger, 
 iiharpening one end, and dipping the other in melted turpen- 
 tine. 
 
 At k i'l, with countenances distorted by infernal fury, and 
 hideou ^lls, the two savages who had captured the hapless 
 Maria .i Christina leaped into the midst of the circle of pri- 
 soners, and dragged those ill-fated maidens, shrieking, from the 
 embraces of their companions. These warriors had disagreed 
 about whose property the girls should be, as they had jointly 
 seized them ; and, to terminate the dispute agreeably to the 
 abominable custom of the savages, it was determined by the 
 chiefs of the party that the prisoners who had given rise to the 
 contention should be destroyed, and that their captors should 
 be the principal agents in the execrable business. These furies, 
 assisted by their comrades, stripped the forlorn girls, convulsed 
 with apprehensions, and tied each to a sapling, with their hands 
 as hign extended above their heads as possible ; and then 
 pitched then from their knees to ilieir shoulders, with upwards 
 of six hundred of the sharpened splinters above described, 
 which, at every puncture, were attended with screams of dis- 
 tress, that echoed through the wilderness. And then, to com- 
 plete the infernal tragedy, the splinters, all standing erect on 
 the bleeding victims, were set on fire, and exhibited a scene of 
 extreme misery, beyond the power of speech to describe, or 
 even the imagination to conceive. It was not until near three 
 hours had elapsed from the comm ncement of their torments, 
 and that they had lost almost every resemblance of the human 
 form, that these helpless virgins sunk down in the arms of their 
 deliverer, death. 
 
 •S^ 
 
 SIGNAL PROWESS OF A WOMAN, IN A COMBAT 
 
 WITH SOME INDIANS. IN A LETTER TO A LADY OF PHIL- 
 ADELPHIA. 
 
 Westmoreland, April 26, 1779. 
 
 Madam, — I have written an account of a very particular 
 
 affair between a whitfti man and two Indians.* I am now to 
 
 give you a relation in which you will see how a person of 
 
 your sex acquitted herself in defence of her own life, and that 
 
 ''''^•her husband and children. ,• • 
 
 • ' ■ ' /.'%*■"' ■ ■*^'*^* 
 
 * Reference is probably made to tH^ desperate encounter -of one Mor- 
 gan and two Indians.— £d. . • 
 
 
 • « 
 
 «r 
 
KEV. JOHN CORBLY'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 335 
 
 linters 
 finger, 
 urpen- 
 
 y, and 
 lapless 
 of pri- 
 om the 
 iagrecd 
 jointly 
 r to the 
 by the 
 e to the 
 ; should 
 B furies, 
 nvulsed 
 ir hands 
 nd then 
 jpwards 
 jscribed, 
 3 of dis- 
 to com- 
 I erect on 
 scene of 
 cribe, or 
 ar three 
 orments, 
 human 
 of their 
 
 )MBAT 
 P PHIL- 
 
 1779. 
 
 Tticular 
 
 now to 
 
 erson of 
 
 nd that 
 
 oi^e Mor* 
 
 The lady who is the burthen of this story is named Expe- 
 rience Bozarth. She lives on a creek (ailed Dunkard creek, 
 in the south-west corner of this county. About the middle of 
 March last, two or three families, who ^veTe afraid to stay at 
 home, gathered to her house and there stayed ; looking on 
 themselves to be safer than when all scattered about at their 
 own houses. 
 
 On a certain day some of the children thus collected came 
 running in from play in great haste, saying there were ugly 
 red men. One of the men in the house stepped to the door, 
 where he recoived a ball in the side of his breast, which caused 
 him to fall back into the house. The Indian was imm ^diately 
 in over him, and engaged with another man who was in the 
 house. The man tossed the Indian on a bed, and called for a 
 knife to kill him. (Observe these we^e all the men that were 
 in the house.) Now Mrs. Bozarth appears the only defence, 
 who, not finding a knife at hand, took up an axe that lay by, 
 and with one blow cut out the brains of the Indian. At that 
 instant, (for all was instantaneous,) a second Indian entered the 
 door, and shot the man dead who was engaged with the Indian 
 on the bed. Mrs. Bozarth turned to this second Indian, and 
 with her axe ?;ave him several large cuts, some of which let 
 his entrails appear. He bawled out, murder, murder. On this 
 sundry other Indians (who had hitherto been fully employed, 
 killing some children out of doors) came rushing to his relief; 
 one of whose heads Mrs. Bozarth clove in two with her axe, as 
 he stuck it in at the door, which laid him flat upon the soil. 
 Another snatched hold of the wounded bellowing fellow, and 
 pulled him oat of doors, and Mrs. Bozarth, with the assistance 
 of the man who was first shot in the door, and by this time a 
 little recovered, shut the door after them, and made it fast, 
 where they kept garrison for several'days, the dead white man 
 and dead Indian both in the house with them, and the Indiaoft 
 about the house besieging them. At length they were relieved 
 by a party sent for that purpose. 
 
 This whole affair, to shutting the door, was not perhaps more 
 than three minutes in acting. . -. 
 
 REV. JOHN CORBLY'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 If, af^er perusing the annexed , melancholy narrative, ^ou 
 deem'it WorChy a place in jm; >'iblication, it is at your service. 
 Such communications, fdim[ea«uA fact, have a tendency on one 
 hand to make us feel for .the jllrsons afflicted, and on the other 
 
 i* 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 ■^* 
 
 i II 
 
 ,^: 
 
336 
 
 REV. JOHN COEBLY'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 i 
 
 to impress our hearts with gratitude to the Sovereign Disposer 
 of all events for that emancipation which the United States 
 have experienced from the haugh^^ claims of Britain — a pow- 
 er, at that time, so lost to every human affection, that, rather 
 than not subdue and make us slaves, they basely chose to 
 encourage, "'•^ronize and reward, as their most faithful and 
 beloved all" the savages of the wilderness; who, without 
 discriminal. •., barbarously massacred the industrious husband- 
 man, the supplicating female, the prattling child and tender 
 infant, vainly sheltered within the encircling arms of maternal 
 fondness. Such transactions, as they come to our knowledge 
 well authenticated, ought to be recorded, that our posterity may 
 not be ignorant of what their ancestors underwent at the try- 
 inoj)eriod of our national exertions for American independence. 
 The following account was, at my request, drawn up by the 
 unfortunate sufierer. Respecting tne author, suffice it to say, 
 that he is an ordained minister of the Baptist faith and order, 
 and held in high estimation by all our associated churches. 
 
 I am, sir, yours, &c., 
 
 William Rogers. 
 
 iris: 
 
 «su 
 
 ,^h Muddy Creek, Washington County, July 8, 1785. 
 
 Diear Sir, — The following is a just and true account of the 
 tragical scene of my family's falling by the savages, which I 
 related when at your house in Philadelphia, and you requested 
 me to forward in writing. 
 
 On the second Sabbath in May, in the year 178i?, being my 
 appointment at one of my meeting-houses about a mile from 
 my dwelling-house, I set out with my dear wife and five chil- 
 dren, for public worship. ""Not suspecting any danger, I walked' 
 behind two hundred yards, with my Bible in my hand, medi- 
 tating ; as I was thus employed, all on a sudden I was greatly 
 alarmed with the frightful shrieks of my dear family before me. 
 I immediately ran with all the speed I could, vainly hunting a 
 club as r ran, till I got within forty yards of them. My poor 
 wife, seeing me, cried to me to make my escape ; an Indian 
 ran up to shoot me. I had to strip, and by so doing outran 
 him. My dear wife had a sucking child in her arms ; this 
 little infant they killed and scalped. They then struck my 
 wife at sundry times, but not getting her down, the Indian who 
 had aimed to shoot me ran to, her, shot her through the body, 
 and scalped her. My little boj^W only son, about six j^e^rs 
 old, they sunk the hatchet into hi^^sjbrains, and thus dis|parched 
 him. A daughter, besides tlA inflmt, they also killed and' 
 " " st daughte", tmo is yet alive, was hid in a* 
 
 %, scalped. My eldest daughtc 
 
 
 « ♦. 
 
jposeT 
 Staves 
 . pow- 
 rather 
 Dse to 
 il and 
 rithout 
 sband- 
 tender 
 iternal 
 kvledge 
 ty may 
 he try- 
 idence. 
 by the 
 to say, 
 I order, 
 
 IBS. 
 
 BEV. JOHN CORBLY'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 337 
 
 •ing my 
 lie froini 
 Ive chil- 
 
 walked 
 medi*- 
 
 greatly 
 [bre me. 
 inting a 
 
 [y poor 
 Indian 
 outran 
 
 is; this 
 
 ick my 
 lian who 
 
 le body, 
 lix jretrs 
 ^parched 
 
 [led and 
 
 Ihid in a- 
 
 tree about twenty yards from the place wiiere the rest were 
 killed, and saw the whole proceedings. She, seeing the In- 
 dians all go off, as she thought, got up and deliberately crept 
 out from the hollow trunk ; but one of them espying her, ran 
 hastily up, knocked her down and scalped her ; also her only 
 surviving sister, on whose head they did not leave more than 
 one inch round, either r'' flesh or skin, besides taking a piece 
 out of her skull. She and the before-mentioned one are still 
 miraculously preserved, though, as you must think, I have had, 
 and still have, a great deal of trobble and expense with them, 
 besides anxiety about them, insomuch that I am, as to worldly 
 circumstances, almost ruined. I am yet in hopes of seeing 
 them cured ; they still, blessed be God, retain their senses, not- 
 withstanding the painful operations they have already and must 
 yet pass through. At the time I ran round to see what was 
 become of my family, and found my dear and affectionate wife 
 with five children all scalped in less than ibn minutes from the 
 first outset. No one, my dear brother, can conceive how I felt ; 
 this you may well suppose was killing to me. I instantly 
 fainted away, and was borne off by a friend, who by this time 
 had found us out. When I recovered, oh the anguish of my 
 soul ! I cried, would to God I had died for them ! would to 
 God I had died with them ! O how dark and mysterious did 
 this trying providence then appear to me ! but — 
 
 ' Why should I grieve, when, grieving, I must bear ? " 
 
 This, dear sir, is a faithful, though short narrative of that 
 fatal catastrophe ; and my life amidst it all, for what purpose 
 Jehovah only knows, redeemed from surrounding death. Oh, 
 may I spend it to the praise and glory of his grace, who work- 
 eth all things after the council of his own will. The govern- 
 ment of the world and of the church is in his hands. May it 
 be taught the important lesson of acquiescing in all his dispen- 
 sations. I conclude with wishing you every blessing, and 
 subscribe myself your affectionate, though afflicted friend and. 
 unworthy brother in the gospel ministry, 
 
 JOHN CORBLY. 
 
 •* 
 
 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 
 
 '*. 
 
 «!. 
 
 29 
 
 
 m 
 
l 
 
 ) 
 
 li 
 
 •i^'Sa- 
 
 338 
 
 A TRUE AND WONDERFUL NARRATIVE OP THE SURPRISING 
 CAPTIVITY AND REMARKABLE DELIVERANCE OP MRS. 
 FRANCIS SCOTT, AN INHABITANT OP WASHINGTON COUN- 
 TV, \IRaiNIA, V^THO WAS TAKEN BY THE INDIANS ON THE 
 EVENING OF THE 29th OP JUNE, 1786. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 29th day of June, 1785, late in the 
 evening, a large company of armed men passed the house on 
 their way to Kentucky, some part of whom encamped within 
 two miles. Mr. Scott's living on a frontier part generally made 
 the family watchful ; but on this calamitous day, after so large 
 a body of men had passed, he lay down in his bed, and im- 
 prudently left one of the doors of his house open ; the children 
 were also in bed and asleep. Mrs. Scott was nearly undressed, 
 when, to her unutterable astonishment and horror, she saw 
 rushing in through the door, that was left open, painted sa- 
 vages, with their arms presented at the same time, raising a 
 hideous shriek. Mr. Scott, being awake, instantly jumped 
 from his bed, and was immediately fired at. He forced his 
 way through the midst of the enemy, and got out of the house, 
 but fell a few paces from the door. An Indian seized Mrs. 
 Scott, and ordered her to a particular place, charging her not to 
 move. Others stabbed and cut the throats of the three young- 
 est children in their bed, and afterwards lifted them up, and 
 dashed them on the floor near their mother. The eldest, a 
 beautiful girl, eight years of age, awoke, and jumping out of 
 bed, ran to her mother, and with the most plaintive accents 
 cried, " O mamma ! mamma ! save me ! " The mother, in the 
 deepest anguish of spirit, and with a flood of tears, entreated 
 the Indians to spare her* life ; but, with that awfully revolting 
 brutality, they tomahawked and stabbed her in her mother's 
 arms ! ! 
 
 ; Adjacent to Mr. Scott's dwelling-house another family lived 
 of the name of Ball. The Indians also attacked them at the 
 same time, but the door being shut, they fired into the house 
 through an opening between the logs which composed its 
 walls, and killed a^ lad, and then essayed to force open the 
 door ; but a brother' of the \ad which had been shot down fired 
 at the Indians |^rough the door, and they relinquished the 
 attack. In the mean time the remaining part^f the family ran 
 out of the house and escaped. i:g5( 
 
 In the house of Mr. Scott were fijur good rifles, well loaded, 
 belonging to people that had left tnelh as they were going to 
 Kentucky. The Indians, thirteeli in number, seized these, and 
 
 
 t>(' 
 
 -ii.^ 'Jt. 
 
 ,jr . . 
 
 
'■■f^'rTf^vt-r'in^ 
 
 Eiisma 
 
 i< MRS. 
 COUN- 
 NTHE 
 
 in the 
 
 ouse on 
 
 [ within 
 
 ly made 
 
 so large 
 
 and im- 
 
 children 
 
 dressed, 
 
 she saw 
 
 inted sa- 
 
 ■aising a 
 ;'umped 
 
 >-cced his 
 
 le house, 
 
 zed Mrs. 
 
 er not to 
 
 i young- 
 up, and 
 
 eldest, a 
 g out of 
 i accents 
 er, in the 
 jntreated 
 revolting 
 mother's 
 
 lily lived 
 im at the 
 le house 
 josed its 
 lopen the 
 bwn fired 
 [shed the 
 Imily ran 
 
 ^ loaded, 
 going to 
 lese, and 
 
 MRS. SCOTT'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 339 
 
 all the plunder they could lay their hands on besides, and 
 hastily began a retreat into the wilderness. It was now late 
 in the evening, and they travelled all the following night. 
 The next morning, June the 30th, the chief of the party 
 allotted to each of his followers his share of the plunder and 
 prisoners, at the same time detaching nine of his party to go 
 on a horse-stealing expedition on Clinch river. 
 
 The eleventh day after Mrs. Scon's captivity, four Indians 
 that had her in charge stopped at a place fixed on for rendez- 
 vous, and to hunt, being now in great want of provisions. 
 Three of these four set out on the hunting expedition, leaving 
 their chief, an old man, to take care of the prisoner, who now 
 had, to all appearances, become reconciled to her situation, 
 nnd expressed a willingness to proceed to the Indian towns, 
 which seemed to have the desired effect of lessening her 
 keeper's watchfulness. In the daytime, while the old man 
 was graining a deer-skin, Mrs. Scott, pondering on her situa- 
 tion, began anxiously to look for an opportunity to make an 
 escape. At length, having matured her resolution in her own 
 mind for the accomplishment of this object, the first opportunity 
 she goes to the old chief with great confidence, and in the most 
 disinterested manner asked him for liberty to go to a small 
 stream, a little distance off, to wash the blood from her apron, 
 that had remained upon it since the fatal night, caused by the 
 murder of her child in her arms, before related. He replied, 
 in the English tongue, " go along." She then passed by him, 
 his face being in a contrary direction from that she was going, 
 and he very busy in dressing his skin, passed on, seemingly 
 unnoticed by him; 
 
 After arriving at the water, instead of stopping to wash her 
 apron, as she pretended, she proceeded on without a moment's 
 delay. She laid her course for a high barren mountain which 
 was in sight, and travelled until late at night, when she came 
 down into the valley in search of the track she had been taken 
 along in by the Indians a few days before, hoping thereby to 
 find the way back to the settlement without the imminent peril, 
 which now surrounded her, of being lost and perishing with 
 hunger in this unknown region. 
 
 On coming across the valley to the side of a river which 
 skirted it, supposed to be the easterly branch of Kentucky 
 river, she observed in the sand tracks of two men that had 
 gone up the i^er, and had just returned. She concluded 
 these to have Been her pursuers, which excited in her breast 
 emotions of gratitude an4 thankfulness to divine Providence 
 for so timely a deliverance. Being without any provisions, 
 having no kind of weapon or tool to assist her in getting any, 
 
 .>:^ 
 
 1 
 
 ^*«e- 
 
 •^ 
 
 ^ 
 
340 
 
 MBS. SCOTT'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ( 
 
 I, 
 
 and almost destitute of clothing; also knowing that a vast 
 tract of rugged hiu^h mountains intervened between where she 
 was and the inhabitants easterly, and she almost as ignorant 
 as a child of the method of steering through the woods, excited 
 painful sensaWons. But certain dpath, either by hunger or 
 wild beasts, seemed to be better than to be in the power of 
 beings who excited in her mind such horror. She addressed 
 Heaven, and taking courage, proceeded onward. 
 
 After travelling three days, she had nearly met with the 
 Indians, as she supposed, that had been sent to Clinch river to 
 steal horses, but providentially hearing their approach, con- 
 cealed herself among the cane until they had passed by her. 
 This giving her a fresh alarm, and her mind being filled with 
 consternation, she got lost, proceeded backwards and forwards 
 for several days. At length she came to a river that seemed 
 to come from the east. Concluding it was Sandy river, she 
 accordingly resolved to trace it to its source, which is adjacent 
 to the Clinch settlement. After proceeding up the same 
 several days she came to the point where it runs through the 
 great Laurel mountain, where there is a prodigious waterfall 
 and high craggy cliffs along the water's edge ; that way seemed 
 impassable, the mountain steep and difficult; however, our 
 mournful traveller concluded the latter way was best. She 
 therefore ascended for some time, but coming to a lofty range 
 of inaccessible rocks, she turned her course towards the foot 
 of the mountain arid the river-side. After getting into a deep 
 gully, and passing over several high steep rocks, she reached 
 the river-side, where, to her inexpressible affliction, she found 
 that a perpendicular rock, or rather one th^t hung over, to 
 the height of fifteen or twenty feet, formed the bank. Here a 
 solemn pause ensued. She essayed to return, but the height 
 of the steeps and rocks she had descended over prevented her. 
 She then returned to the edge of the precipice, and viewing 
 the bottom of it as the certain spot to end all her troubles, or 
 remain on the top to pine away with hunger, or be devoured 
 by wild beasts. 
 
 After serious meditation and devout exercises, she deter- 
 
 , mined on leaping from the height, and accordingly jumped 
 
 off. Now, although^ the place she had to alight upon was 
 
 covered with uneven rocks, not a bone was broken, but beii'ig 
 
 exceedingly stunned by the fall, she remained unable to pro- 
 
 * ceed for some time. "* 
 
 The dry season had caused the river to be shallow. She 
 travelled in it, and, where she could, by its edge, until she got 
 through the mountain, which she thought was several miles. 
 After this, as she was travelling along the bank of the river, a 
 
 
I vast 
 re she 
 lorant 
 xcited 
 ret or 
 ver of 
 resscd 
 
 th the 
 
 iver to 
 
 I, con- 
 
 yy her. 
 
 d with 
 
 rwards 
 
 seemed 
 
 er, she 
 
 djacent 
 
 ; same 
 
 igh the 
 
 aterfall 
 
 seemed 
 
 rer, our 
 
 [. She 
 
 y range 
 
 the foot 
 a deep 
 
 reached 
 
 e found 
 >veT, to 
 Here a 
 ! height 
 ed her. 
 riewing 
 
 Jbles, or 
 jvoured 
 
 deter- 
 Ijumped 
 Ion was 
 U being 
 to pro- 
 She 
 I she got 
 milee. 
 I river, a 
 
 MRS. SCOTT'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 341 
 
 venomous snake bit her on the ankle. She had strength to 
 kill it, and knowing its kind, concluded death must soon over- 
 take her. < 
 
 By this time Mrs. Scott was reduced to a mere skeleton 
 with fatigue, hunger, and grief. Probably this reduced state 
 of her system saved her from the efTects of the poison fangs of 
 the snake ; be that as it may, so it was, that very little pain 
 succeeded the bite, and what little swelling there was fell into 
 her feet. 
 
 Our wanderer now left the river, and after proceeding a 
 good distance she came to where the valley parted into two, 
 each leading a difierent course. Here a painful suspense took 
 place again. How truly forlorn was now the case of this poor 
 woman ! almost ready to sink down from exhaustion, who 
 had now the only prospect left that, either in the right or 
 wrong direction, her remaining strength could not carry her 
 long, nor but very little way, and she began to despair — and 
 who would not— of ever again beholding the face of any human 
 creature. But the most awful and seemingly certain dangers 
 are sometimes providentially averted. 
 
 While her mind was thus agitated, a beautiful bird passed 
 close by her, fluttering slowly along near the ground, and very 
 remarkably took its course onward in one of the vaiieys before 
 spoken of. This drew her attention, and, while pondering 
 upon what it might' mean, another bird like the first, in the 
 same manner, passed by her, and followed the same valley. 
 She now took it ~ for granted that this was her course also ; 
 and, wonderful to relate, in two days after she had wandered 
 in sight of the settlement on Clinch river, called New Garden. 
 Thus, in the thfrd month of her captivity, she was unexpect- 
 edly though joyfully relieved from the dreadful impending death 
 by famine. But had she taken the other valley, she never 
 could have returned. The day of her arrival at New Garden 
 was August lllh. 
 
 Mrs. Scott relates that the Indians told her that thej)arty 
 v ^1 whom she was a captive was composed of four different 
 nations ; two of whom, she thinks, were Delawares and Min- 
 goes. She further relates that, during a full month of her ■ 
 wanderings, viz. from July 10th to August 11th, she had no 
 other food to subsist upon but whjit she derived from chewing 
 and swallowing the juice of young cane stalks, sassafras leaves, 
 and some other plants of which she knew not the names ; that m 
 on her journey she saw buflaloes, elks, deers, and frequently 
 bears and wolves, not one of which, although some passed very ^ 
 near her, offered her the least harm. One day a bear came 
 near her with a young fawn in his mouth, and on discovering 
 29* 
 
 %■! 
 
342 
 
 CAFT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 her he dropped his prey and ran oflf. Prompted by the keen 
 
 Eangs of hunger, she advanced to seize upon it, but fearing the 
 Bar might return, she turned away in despair, and pursued 
 her course ; thus sparing her feelings, naturally averse to raw 
 flesh, at the expense of increasing hunger. 
 
 Mrs. Scott continues** in a low state of health, ind remains 
 unconsolable for the loss of her family, particularly bewailing 
 *he cruel death of her little daughter. 
 
 A NARRATIVE 
 
 OP THE DESPERATE ENCOUNTER AND ESCAPE OP CAPT. WM. 
 
 .. HUBBELL PROM THE INDIANS WHILE DESCENDING THE 
 OHIO RIVER IN A BOAT WITH OTHERS, IN THE YEAR 1791. 
 Originally set forth in the Western Review, and afterwards republished by 
 Dr. Metcalf,.in his "Narxatives. of Indian Warfare in the West." 
 
 In the year 1791, while the Indians were yet troublesome, 
 
 especially on the banks of the Ohio, Capt. William Hubbell, 
 
 (■ who had previously emigrated to Kentucky from the state of 
 
 Vermont, and who, after having fixed his family in the neigh- 
 
 *At the time the original narrative was written. It was printed in 
 1786.— Ed. 
 
 ^ 
 
he keen 
 ring the 
 pursued 
 ) to raw 
 
 remains 
 ) wailing 
 
 CAPT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE, 
 
 343 
 
 >T. WM. 
 
 fG THB 
 UR 1791. 
 pushed by 
 
 |i1esome, 
 
 [ubbell, 
 
 I state of 
 
 neigh' 
 
 ed in 
 
 borhood of Frankfort, then a frontier settlement, had been com- 
 pelled to go to the eastward on business, was now a second 
 time on his way to this country. On one of the tributary 
 streams of the Monongahela, he procured a flat-bottomed boat, 
 and embarked in company with Mr. Daniel Light and Mr. 
 Wm. Plascut and his family, consisting of a wife and eight 
 children, destined for Limestone, Kentucky. 
 
 On their passage down the river, and soon after passing 
 Pittsburgh, they saw evident traces of Indians along the banks, 
 and there is every reason to believe that a boat which they 
 overtook, and which, through carelessness, was suffered to run 
 aground on an island, became a prey to the e merciless sa- 
 vages. Though Capt. Hubbell and his parly stopped {ome 
 time for it in a lower part of the river, it did not arrive, and it 
 has never, to their knowledge, been heard of. 
 
 Before they reached the mouth of the great Kenhawa they 
 had, by several successive additions, increased their number to 
 twenty persons, consisting of nine men, three women, ami 
 eight children. The men, besides those mentioned ^bove, 
 were one John Storer, an Irishman and a Dutchmaii w/!ose 
 names are not recollected, Messrs. Ray and Tucker, and a Mr. 
 Kilpatrick, whose two daughters also were of the party. In- 
 formation received at Galliopolis confirmed the expectation, 
 which appearances had previously raised, of a serious conflict 
 with a large body of Indians ; and as Capt. Hubbell had been 
 regularly appointed commander of the boat, every possible 
 preparation was made for a formidable and successful resist- 
 ance of the anticipated attack. The nine men were divided 
 into three watches for the night, which were alternately to 
 continue awake, and be on the lookout for two hours at a time. 
 
 The arms on board, which consisted principally of old mus- 
 kets much out of order, were collected, put vt f'le best possible 
 condition for service, and loaded. At abuu!. sunset on that 
 day, the 23d of March, 1791, our party overtook a fleet of six 
 boats descending the river in company- and intended to have 
 continued with them; but as their passengers seemed to be 
 more disposed to dancing than flgating, and as, soon after 
 dark, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Capt. Hubbell, 
 they commenced fiddling and drinking, instead of preparing 
 their arms and taking the necessary rest preparatory to battle, 
 it was wisely considered, by Capt. Hubbell and his company, 
 far more hazardous to have such companions than to proceed 
 alone. Hence it was determined to press rapidly forward by 
 aid of (he oars, and to leave those thoughtless fellow-travellers 
 behind. One of the boats, however, belonging to the fleet, 
 commanded by a Capt. Greathouse, adopted the same plan. 
 
 I 
 
 
 I 
 
 ■ .0 
 
344 
 
 CAPT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 
 \ -i: 
 
 and for a while kept up with Capt. Hubbell, but all its crew at 
 length falling asleep, that boat also ceased to be propelled by 
 the oars, and Capt. Hubbell and his party proceeded steadily 
 forward alone. Early in the night a canoe was dimly seen 
 floating down the river, in which were probably Indians recon- 
 noitering, and other evident indications were observed of the 
 neighborhood and hostile intentions of a formidable party of 
 
 savages. 
 
 It was now agreed that should the attack, as was probable, 
 be deferred till morning, every man should be up before the 
 dawn, in order to make as great a show as possible of numbers 
 and of strength ; and that, whenevei the action should take 
 place, the women and children should lie down on the cabin 
 floor, and be protected as well as they could by the trunks and 
 other baggage, which might be placed around them. In this 
 perilous situation they continued during the night, and the cap- 
 tain, who had not slept more than one hour since he left Pitts- 
 burgh, was too deeply impressed with the imminent danger 
 which surrounded tnem to obtain any rest at that time. 
 
 Just as daylight began to appear in the east, and before the 
 men were up and at their posts agreeably to arrangement, a voice, 
 at some distance below them, in a plaintive tone, repeatedly 
 solicited them to come on shore, as there were some white 
 persons who wished to obtain a passage in their boat. This 
 the captain very naturally and correctly concluded to be an 
 Indian artifice, and its only effect was to rouse the men, and 
 place f ery one on his guard. The voice of entreaty was soon 
 changed into the language of indignation and insult, and the. 
 sound of distant paddles announced the savage foe. At length 
 three Indian canoes were seen through the mist of the 
 morning, rapidly advancing. With the utmost coolness the 
 captain and his companions prepared to receive them. The 
 chairs, tables, and other incumbrances were thrown into the 
 river, in order to clear the deck for action. Every man took 
 his position, and was ordered not to fire till the savages had 
 approached so near that, (to use the words of Capt. Hubbell,) 
 " the flash from the guns might singe their eyebrows ;" and a 
 special caution was given that the men should fire successively, 
 80 that there might be no interval. 
 
 On the arrival of the canoes, they were found to contain 
 about twenty-five or thirty Indians each. As soon as they had 
 approached within the reach of musket-shot, a general fire was 
 given from one of them, which wounded Mr. Tucker through 
 the hip so severely that his leg hung only by the fl«m, and 
 shot Mr. Light just below his ribs. The three canoes placed 
 themselves at the bow, stern, and on the right side of the boat, 
 
 J>ito,- 
 
 M. 
 
CAPT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 34A 
 
 so that they had an opportunity of raking in every direction. 
 The fire now commenced from the boat, and had a powerful 
 efTect in checking the confidence and fury of the Indiana. The 
 captain, after firing his own gun, took up that of one of the 
 wounded men, raised it to his shoulder, and was about to dis- 
 charge it, when a ball came and took away the lock of it. He 
 coolly turned around, seized a brand of fire from the kettle 
 which had served for a caboose, and applying it to the pan, 
 discharged the piece with effect. A very regular and constant 
 fire was now kept up on both sides. The captain was just in 
 the act of raising his gun a third time, when a ball passed 
 through his right arm, and for a moment disabled him. 
 Scarcely had he recovered from the shock, and re-acquiied the 
 use of his hand, which had been suddenly drawn up by the 
 wound, when he observed the Indians in one of the canoes just 
 about to board the boat in the bow, where the horses were 
 placed belonging to the company. So near had they ap- 
 
 Eroached, that some of them had actually seized with their 
 ands the side of the boat. Severely wounded as he was, 
 he caught up a pair of horseman's pistols and rushed forward 
 to repel the attempt at boarder- On his approach the Indians 
 fell back, and he discharge(Pqne of the pistols with effect at 
 the foremost man. After firing the second pistol, he found 
 himself with useless arms, and was compelled to retreat; but 
 stepping back upon a pile of small wood which had been pre- - 
 pared for burning in the kettle, the thought struck him that it 
 might be made use of in repelling the foe, and he continued 
 for some time to strike with it so forcibly and actively that 
 they were unable to enter the boat, and at length he wounded 
 one of them so severely that with a yell they suddenly gave 
 way. 
 
 All the canoes instantly discontinued the contest, and di- 
 rected their course to Capt. Greathouse's boat, w^hich was then 
 in sight. Here a striking contrast was exhibited to the firm- 
 ness and intrepidity which had just been displayed. Instead 
 of resisting the attack, the people on board of that boat retired 
 to the cabin in dismay. The Indians entered it without oppo- 
 sition, and rowed it to the shore, where they instantly killed 
 the captain and a lad of about fourteen years of age. The 
 women they placed in the centre of their canoes, and manning 
 them with fresh hands, again pursued Capt. Hubbell. A 
 melancholy alternative now presented itself to these brave but 
 almost desponding men, either to fall a prey to the savages 
 themselves, or to run the risk of shooting the women who had 
 been placed in the canoes in the hope of deriving protection 
 from their presence. But "self-preservation is the first law of 
 
 'V 
 I 
 
 f 
 
 ■ii, 
 
 11 
 
 ■rj 
 
 V 
 
 ;i^--,-: 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
\ 
 
 846 
 
 CAPT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 8- ) 
 
 nature," and the captain very justly remarked "that dwiM 
 would not be much humanity in preserving their lives Ai^'IftfeH 
 a sacrifice, merely that they might become victims o("^i!^ii^^ 
 cruelty at some subsequent period." "v.-. 
 
 There were now but four men left on board of Capt. Hu.b- 
 bell's boat capable of defending it, and the captain himself 
 was severely wounded in two places. The second attack, 
 nevertheless, was resisted with almost incredible firmness and 
 vigor. Whenever the Indians would rise to fire, their oppo- 
 nents would commonly give them the first shot, which, in 
 almop.t every instance, would prove fatal. Notwithstanding 
 the disparity of numbers, and the exhausted condition of the 
 defenders of the boat, the Indians at length appeared to des- 
 pair of success, and the canoes successively returned to the 
 shore. Just as the last one was departing, Capt. Hubbell 
 called to the Indian who was standing in the stern, and, on his 
 turning round, discharged his piece at him. When the smoke, 
 which for a moment obscured their vision, was dissipated, he 
 was seen lying on his back, and appeared to be severely 
 wounded, perhaps mortally. ><i^,, ''^Wi' 
 
 Unfortunately, the boat now drifted near to the shore, where 
 the Indians had collected, and a large concourse, probably 
 between four and five hundred, were seen running down on 
 the bank. Ray and Plascut, the only men remaining unhurt, 
 were placed at the oars ; and as the boat was not more than 
 twenty yards from the shore, it was deemed prudent for all to 
 lie down in as safe a position as possible, and attempt to push 
 forward with the utmost practicable rapidity. While they 
 continued in this situation, nine balls were shot into one oar, 
 and ten into another, without wounding the rowers, who were 
 hid from view and protected by the side of the boat and blank- 
 ets in the stern. During this dreadful exposure to the fire of 
 the savages, which continued about twenty minutes, Mr. Kil- 
 patrick observed a particular Indian, whom he thought a 
 favorable mark for his rifle, and, notwithstanding the solemn 
 warning of Capt. Hubbell, rose up to shoot him. He imme- 
 diately received a ball in his mouth, which passed out at the 
 back part of his head, and was also, almost at the same instant, 
 shot through the heart. He fell down among the horses that 
 were about the same time shot down likewise ; and thus was 
 presented to his afflicted daughters and fellow-travellers, who 
 were witnesses of the awful occurrence, a spectacle of horror 
 which we need not further attempt to "describe. -^ 
 
 The boat was now providentially and suddenly earned out 
 into the middle of the stream, and taken by the current be- 
 yond the reach of the enemy's balls. Our little bcuad, reduced 
 
 ^■.. 
 
 
CAPT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 347 
 
 08 they were in numbers, wounded, afflicted, and almost ex- 
 hausted by fatigue, were still unsubdued in spirit, and being 
 assembled in all their strength, men, women, and children, 
 with an appearance of triumph, gave three hearty cheers, 
 calling the Indians to come on again if they were fond of 
 sport. 
 
 Thus ended this awful conflict, in which, out of nine men, 
 two only escaped unhurt. Tucker and Kilpatric were killed 
 on the spot, Storer was mortally wounded, and died on his 
 arrival at Limestone, and all the rest, excepting Ray and Plas- 
 cut, were severely wounded. The women and children were 
 all uninjured, except a little son of Mr. Plascut, who, after the 
 battle was over, came to the captain, and with great coolness 
 requested him to take a ball out of his head. On examination 
 it appeared that a bullet, which had passed through the side 
 of the boat, had penetrated the forehead of this little hero, 
 and remained under the skin. The captain took it out, and sup- 
 posing this was all, as in good reason he might, was about to 
 bestow his attentiv/U on some other momentous affair, when the 
 little boy observed, " That is not all, captain," and raisin(r his 
 arm, exhibited a piece of bone at the point of his elbow, which 
 had been shot ofl, and hung only by the skin. His mother, to 
 whom the whole affair seems before to have been unknown, 
 but being now present, exclaimed, " Why did you not tell me 
 of this ? " " Because," replied the son, " the captain ordered 
 us to be silent during the fight, and I thought you would make 
 a noise if I told you of it." 
 
 The boat made the best of its way down the river, ancl the 
 object was to reach Limestone that night. The captain's arm 
 had bled profusely, and he was compelled to qlose the sleeve 
 of his coat in order to retain the blood and stop its effusion. 
 
 In this situation, tormented by excruciating pain, and faint 
 through loss of blood, he was under the necessity of steering 
 the boat with his left arm till about ten o'clock that night, 
 when he was relieved by Mr. Wm. Brooks, who resided on 
 the bank of the river, and who was induced by the calls of the 
 sufiering party to come out to their assistance. By his aid, 
 and that of some other persons who were in the same manner 
 b^o'ight to their relief, they were enabled to reach Limestone 
 adoui twelve o'clock that night. 
 
 Immediately on the arrival of Mr. Brooks, Capt. Hubbell, 
 relieved from labor and responsibility, sunk under the weight 
 of pain and fatigue, and become for a while totally insensible. 
 Wn^n Ae boat reached Ijimestone, he found himself unable to 
 walk, and was obliged to be carried up to the tavern. Here 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 mi'p. 
 
 ..I 
 
 J' 
 
848 
 
 CAPT. HUBBELL'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 * ' 
 
 ^^h 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 t- 
 
 ^ 
 
 ♦« 
 
 he bad his wound dressed, and continued several days, until 
 he acquired sufficient strength to proceed hom&wards. 
 
 On the arrival of our party at Limestone, they found a con- 
 siderable force of armed men about to march against the same 
 Indians, from whop' attacks they had so severely suffered. 
 They now learned tnat, the Sunday preceding, the same party 
 of savages had cut jO a detachment of men ascending the Ohio 
 from fort Washirs'r.on, at the mouth of Licking river, and had 
 killed with their tomahawks, without firing a gun, twenty-one 
 out of twenty-two men, of which the detachment consisted. 
 
 Crowds of people, as might be expected, came to witness 
 the boat which had been the scene of so much heroism, sufifer^ 
 ing, and horrid carnage, and to visit the resolute little band by 
 whom it had been so gallantly and successfully defended. On 
 examination it was found that the sides of the boat were lite- 
 rally filled with bullets and with bullet-holes. There was 
 scarcely a space of two feet square, in the part above water, 
 which had not either a ball remaining in it or a hole through 
 which a ball had passed. Some persons, who had the curi- 
 osity !;o count the number of holes in the blankets which 
 were hung up as curtains in the stern of the boat, affirmed 
 that in the space of five feet square there were one hundred 
 and twenty-two. Four horses out of five w^ere killed, and the 
 escape of the fifth amidst such a shower of balls appears almost 
 miraculous. 
 
 The day after the arrival of Capt. Hubbell and his com- 
 panions, the five remaining boats, which they had passed on 
 the night preceding the battle, reached Limestone. Those on 
 board remarked that during the action they distinctly saw the 
 flashes, but could not hear the reports of the guns. The In- 
 dians, it appears, had met with too formidable a resistance 
 from a single boat to attack a fleet, and suflered them to pass 
 unmolested: and since that time it is believed that no Doat 
 has been assailed by Indians on the Ohio. 
 
 The force which marched out to disperse this formidable 
 body of savages discovered severs^ Indians dead on the shore 
 near the scene of action. They a^so found the bodies of Capt. 
 Greathouse and several others, men, women, and children, 
 who had been on board of his boat. Most of them appeared 
 to have been whipped to death, as they were found stripped, 
 tied to trees, and marked with the appearance of lashes, and 
 large rods which seemed to have been worn with use v.'3re 
 observed lying near them. , ,# 
 
 Such is the plain narra^ve of a ttansaction that may serve 
 as a specimen of the difficulties and dangen to which, but a 
 few years since, the inhabitants cf this now flourishing and 
 beautiful country were constantly exposed. ^< 
 
 ■ *- iM 
 
ys, until 
 
 id a con- 
 the same 
 suffered, 
 me party 
 the Ohio 
 
 and had 
 enty-one 
 isted. 
 3 witness 
 n, suffer- 
 f band by 
 ded. On 
 were lite- 
 tiere was 
 ve water, 
 ) through 
 
 the curi- 
 its which 
 , affirmed 
 
 hundred 
 and the 
 irs ahnost 
 
 his com- 
 lassed on 
 Those on 
 saw the 
 The In- 
 'esistance 
 to pass 
 ,t no boat 
 
 )rmidable 
 
 I the shore 
 
 of Capt. 
 
 children, 
 
 appeared 
 
 stripped, 
 
 Ishes, and 
 
 luse v.'are 
 
 lay serve 
 ken, but a 
 Ihing and 
 
 :«: 
 
 019 
 
 ^&d 
 
 AN ACCOUNT 
 
 OP THE SUFFERINGS OF MASSY HERBESON, AND HER FAMILY, 
 WHO W^RE TAKEN PRISONERS BY A PARTY OP INDIANS. 
 GIVEN ON OATH BEFORE JOHN WILKINS, ESQ., ONE OP 
 THE JUSTICES OF THE PEACE FOR T"E COMMONWEALTH 
 OP PENNSYLVANIA. .,,. 
 
 - Pittsburgh, May 28, 1792. 
 
 Massy Herbeson, on her oath, according to law, being 
 taken before John Wilkins, Esq., one of ^he commonwealth's 
 justices of the peace in and for the county of Alleghany, de- 
 poseth and saith, that on \he 22d day of this instant she was 
 taken from her own house,«within two hundred yards of Reed's 
 block-house, which is called twenty-five miles from Pittsburgh ; 
 her husband, being one of the spies, was from home ; two of 
 the scouts had lodged with her that night, but had left her 
 house about sunrise, in order to go to the block-house, and had 
 left the door standing wide open. Shortly after the two scouts 
 went away, a number o£ Indians came into the house and drew 
 her out of bed by the feet ; the tpro eldest children, who alsa 
 lay in another bed, weve drawn out in the same manner ; a 
 younger child, about one year old, slept with the deponent.. 
 
 30 
 
 ''i*^' 
 
 
 
 
 'I, 
 
 I 
 
 ''WJ n 
 
 ! 
 
 :..^i:a 
 
.)■ 
 
 If 
 
 350 
 
 HERBESON, 1792. 
 
 The Indians then scrambled about the articles in the house ; 
 when they were at this work, the deponent went out of the 
 house, and hollowed to the people in the block-hou:^e ; one of 
 the Indianij then ran up and stopped her mouih, another raa 
 up with his tomahawk drawn, and a third rai; and 'ixed the 
 tomahawk and r^alled her his squaw ; this last Jndlaa claimed 
 her as his, and continued by her. About fifteei? of the indiaas 
 then ran down towards the block-house, and fir^d their guns 
 at the block and store house, in consequence of which one sol- 
 dier was killed, and anotier wound d, one having been at the 
 spring, and the other in coming or looking out of the store- 
 house. This deponent tlsen told the Indians thdre were about 
 forty men in the nlock-hous^. , and each msn had two gun?* the 
 Indians then went to them that were firing*: ac the block-huvse, 
 and broil jrht them back. They then began to drive the depo- 
 nent ar i bar childrenaway ; but a boy about three years old, 
 being uuwiliitrg to leave the house, they took by the heels, and 
 dashed it f.<7 >inst the house, then stabbed and scalped it. 
 They therii loc k the deponent and the two other children to the 
 top of the hill, where they stopped until they tied up the plun- 
 der tliey had got. While they were busy about this, the de- 
 ponent counted them, and the number amounted to thirty-two, 
 including two white men that were with theru, painted like 
 the Indians. 
 
 That several of the Indians could speak Englijh, and that 
 she knew three or four of them very well, having often seen 
 them go up and down the Alleghany river ; two of them she 
 knew to be Senecas, and two Munsees. who had got their guns 
 mended by her husband about two yeals ago. That they sent 
 two Indians with her, and the others took their course to\V>irds 
 Puckty. That she, the children, and the two Indians had not 
 gone above tWo hundred yards, when the Indians caught two 
 of Jier uncle's horses, put her and the youngest child on one, 
 and one of the Indians and the other child on the other. That 
 the two Indians then took her and the children to the AUegha- 
 Wjfl^ti^i, and took them over in bark canoes, as they could not 
 get the horses to swim the river. *After they had crossed the 
 river, the oldest child, a boy of about five years of age, began 
 ^ to mourn for his. brother ; one of the Indians then tomahawked 
 and scalped him. That they travelled all day very hard, ajpd 
 that night arrived at a large camp covered with bark, which, 
 by appearance, might hold fifty men ; that the camp appeare'd 
 to have been occupied some time, it was very much beaten, and 
 large beaten paths went out JH diflferent directions from it; that 
 night they took her about thrte hundred yards from the camp, 
 into a large dark bottom, bound her arms, gave her some bed 
 
 . ^*- 
 
 41 
 
 * %: 
 
 
 JL 
 

 HERBESON, 1792. 
 
 361 
 
 ; house ; 
 
 It of the 
 ; ons of 
 tther xaa 
 !ized the 
 
 claimed 
 ; ind;aus 
 leir guns 
 
 one sol- 
 en at the 
 he store- 
 ixe about 
 fnnr-' the 
 ;k-hn.iise, 
 ^he depo- 
 rears old, 
 eels, and 
 alped it. 
 en to the 
 the plun- 
 s, the de- 
 lirty-two, 
 gated like 
 
 and that 
 ften seen 
 them she 
 leir guns 
 hey sent 
 towards 
 had not 
 ght two 
 on one. 
 That 
 Allegha- 
 ould not 
 )ssed the 
 e, began 
 hawked 
 ard, £u;id 
 c, which, 
 ppeare'd 
 ten, and 
 it; that 
 Le camp, 
 lOiDe bed 
 
 clothes, and lay down one on each side of her. That the next 
 morning they took her into a thicket on the hilUside, and one 
 remained with her till the middle of the day, while the other 
 went to watch the path, lest some white people should follow 
 them. They then exchanged places during the remainder of 
 the day. She got a piece oi dry venison, about the bulk of an 
 egg, that day, and a piece about the same size the day they 
 were marching. That evening, (Wednesday, the 23d, y they 
 moved her to a new place, and secured her as the night before. 
 During the day of the 23d, she made several attempts to get 
 the Indian's gun or tomahawk, that was guarding her, and, 
 could she have got either, she would have put him to death. 
 She was nearly detected in trying to get the tomahawk from 
 his belt. 
 
 The next morning (Thursday) /)ne of the Indians went out 
 as on the day before to watch the path. The other lay down 
 and fell asleep. When she found he was sleeping, she stole 
 her short gown, handkerchief and a child's frock, and then made 
 her escape. The sun was then about half an hour high. That 
 she took her course from the Alleghany, in order to deceive the 
 Indians, as they would ^naturally pursue her that way; that 
 day she travelled along Conoquenessing creek. The next day 
 she altered her course, and, hs she believes, fell upon the waters 
 of Pine creek, which empties into the Alleghany. Thinking 
 this not her best course, took over some dividing ridges, fell 
 in on the heads of Squaw run, she lay on a dividing ridge on 
 Friday night, and on Saturday came to Squaw run, continued 
 down the ru^ lentil sy^ Indian, or some other person, shot at a 
 deer ; she saw the person about one hundred and fifty yards 
 from her, the deer running and the dog pursuing it, which, from 
 the appearance, she supposed to be an Indian dog. 
 
 She then altered her course, but again came to the same run, 
 and continued down it until she got so tired that she was 
 obliged to lie down, it having rained on her all that day and 
 the night before. She lay there that night ; it rained constantly. 
 On Sunday morning she proceeded down the run until she 
 came to the Alleghany rfver, and continued down the river till 
 sh^ came opposite to Carter's house, on the inhabited side, 
 where she made a poise, and James Closier brought her ov€f 
 the river to Carter's house. 
 
 This deponent further says that, in conversing with one of 
 the Indians, that could talk English very well, which she sus- 
 pects to be George lelloway, he asked her if she knew the 
 prisoner that was taken by JefHib and his Senecas, and in jail 
 in Pittsburgh. She ani^ercd no ; he said, you lie. She again 
 said she knew nothing about him ; he said she did, that he was 
 
 . 
 
3fl2 
 
 SERGEANT MUNSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 i^ 
 
 a spy, and a great captain ; that he took Butlev's scalp, and 
 that they would have him or twenty scalps ; he again said that 
 they would exchange for him ; that he and two more were sent 
 out to see what the Americans were doing ; that they came 
 round from Detroit to Venango. The Indian took paper, and 
 showed her that he, at fort Pitt, could write and draw on it ; 
 he also asked her if a campaign was going out against the In- 
 dians this summer ; she said no. He called her a liar, and 
 said they were going out, and that the Indians would serve 
 them as they did last year; he also said the English had guns, 
 ammunition, &c. to give them to go to war, and that they had 
 given them plenty last year ; this deponent also says that she 
 saw one of the Indians have Capt. Crib's sword, which she 
 well knew. That one of the Indians asked her if she knew 
 Thomas Girty ; she said she did ; he then said that Girty lived 
 near fort Pitt ; that he was a good man, but not as good as his 
 brother at Detroit ; l>ut that his wife was a bad woman ; she 
 tells lies on the Indians, and is a friend to America. Swori» 
 before me the day and year first above Mrritten. 
 
 ..JOHN WILKINS. 
 
 NARRATIVE, 
 
 ??• 
 
 ',»■■ 
 
 
 IV 
 
 OP THE CAPTIVITY AND ESCAPE OP SERGEANT LENT BfUN- 
 SON, WHO PELL INTO THE HANDS QF THE WESTERN IN- 
 DIANS AT THE TIME OP LIEUT. LOWRY'S DEFEAT. ^ ^ 
 
 As Lieut. Lowry and ensign Boyd, with about one hundred 
 men, were escorting two hundred and fifty pack horses with 
 provisions from fort St. Clair to General Wayne's camp, (six 
 miles in advance of fort Jefferson,) they were furiously assailed 
 by about half Aeir number of concealed Indians, and totally 
 defeated. They had encamped fotff miles on their journey on 
 the ni^ht of the 16th of October, 1793, and were sufficiently 
 warned during the whole night of what they had to undergo at 
 Mrly dawn. However, no attack was made until the detach- 
 ment was about ready to march on the morning of the 17thi 
 At thts juncture the Indians rushed upon them with great fury, 
 and after a short but bloody engagement the whites were dis- 
 persed in every direction. In this oftet Lieut. Lowry and 
 ensign Boyd both fell mortalllfwounded, and about twenty of 
 (heir men were among the siain. The' rest of this unfortwrtate 
 escort, excepting eleven, who were t^en prisoners, got back to 
 
 l^# 
 
 I'- 
 
 '•$ 
 
 My 
 
 y?:- 
 
 S 
 
 n 
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 • 1 
 SERGEANT BtUNSON'S CAPTIVITY. 
 
 363 
 
 fort St. Clair. To the smallness of the number of the Indians 
 is to be attributed the escape of any. 
 
 Sergeant Munson was one of the eleven prisoners, and was 
 hurried off with his companions towards the country of the 
 Ottawas, to which nation of Indians this party belonged. They 
 had not proceeded far when one of the prisoners, being but a 
 boy, and weakly, was murdered and left on the way. The 
 remaining ten w^ere then distributed among their captors. 
 These all had their heads shaved, which among the Ottawas 
 denoted they were to serve as slaves. 
 
 The reiroence of these Indians was upon the river then called 
 the Maumee, since, the Miami of the lakes, about thirty miles 
 from its mouth at lake Erie. Here Mr. Munson was kept 
 until the next June, performing the drudgery of the Indians, 
 without anything very remarkable, for eight months, at the end 
 of which time he mad6 his escape in the following iftanner : — 
 He had learned so much of their language that ne ()ould un- 
 derstand much of their conversation, and he now leahied that 
 they were highly elttted at the prospect of meeting and cutting 
 ofT the army of Gen. W^yne, as they had that of Harmer and 
 St. Clair before. They Coasted that " they were fifteen hun- 
 dred strong, and that they weuld soon cut Wayne's army to 
 pieces." They talked with the utmost contempt of the whites; 
 said they lied about their numbers, and that," their armies were 
 made up of cowards and boys." 
 
 The warriors were now preparing to march to the All Olaize, 
 to make a stand against Gen. Wayne, and Mr. Munson anx- 
 iously awaited their departure, hoping by their absence he might 
 take advantage and escape. His wishes were soon gratified; 
 fo on the 12th of June, 1794, the warriors left the village, and 
 he took every precaution for flight. Accordingly, five days 
 after, having prepared a canoe several miles below the village, 
 on the river, under pretence of a hunting expedition he escaped 
 to it, and in the night made all the exertions he was master of 
 to reach the lake, which he did in two nights ; not daring to 
 sail during the day, for fear'of discovery, but slyly drawing up 
 his canoe at the approach of morning, patiently wai^ ed until 
 the next night. And thus he found his way to Niagara, and 
 thence to his friends in Connecticut, without material accident,r 
 
 where he arrived 
 months' captivity. 
 
 towards the end of July, 1794, after eight 
 
 
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 355 
 
 NARRATIVE 
 
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 OP THE ESCAPE OF RANSOM CLARK, (OP LIVINGSTON COUN- 
 TY, NEW YORK,) FROM THE MASSACRE IN WHICH MAJOR 
 DADE AND HIS COMMAND WERE CUT OFF BY THE SEMI- 
 NOLE INDIANS, IN FLORIDA, on the 2ath Dec. 1836; as communi- 
 cated by himself, while on a visit to Boston in the summer of 1837, to the 
 editor of the Morning Post. 
 
 [A fun and particular history of the Florida War will be found in my 
 Book of the Indians, together with other Indian affairs. — Ed.] 
 
 Our detachment, consisting of one hundred and seventeen 
 men, under command of Major Dade, started from fort Brooke, 
 Tampa Bay, on the 23a of December, and arrived at the scene 
 of action about eight o'clock on the morning of the 28th. It 
 was on the edge of a pond, three miles from the spot where we 
 had bivouacked on the night previous. The pond was sur- 
 rounded by tall grass, brush and small trees. A moment be- 
 fore we were surprised, l^ajor Dade said to us, •• We have now 
 got through all danger ;** keep up good heart, and when we get 
 to fort King, I '11 give you three days for Christmas." 
 
 At this time we were in a path or trail on the border of the 
 pond, and the first notice that we received of the presence of 
 the enemy was the discharge of a rifle by their chief, aa( a sig- 
 nal to commence the attack. The pond was on our right, and 
 the Indians were scattiered round, m a semicircle, on our left, 
 in the rear and in advance, reaching at the two latter points 
 to the edge of the pond; but leaving an opening for our en- 
 trance on the path, and a similar opening on the other extrem- 
 ity for the egress of our advance guard, v/hich was permitted 
 to pass through without being fired on, and of <.ourse uncon- 
 scious of the ambuscade through which they had marched. 
 At the time of the attack this guard was a quarter of a mile in 
 advance, the main body following in coltimn two deep. The 
 chief's rifle was followed b|^a general discharge from his men, 
 and Major Dade, Captain Frazier and Lieut. Mudge, together 
 with several non-commissioned officers and privates, were 
 brought down by the first volley. Our rear guard had a six- 
 pounder, which, as soon d,s possible, was hauled up, and brought 
 to bear upon the ground occupied by the unseen enemy, se- 
 creted among the Jitbss, brush, and trees. The discharge ^f 
 the cannon checkeCfl4ll made them fall back for about half an 
 hour. About twelve of us advfticed and brought in our dead. 
 Among the wounded was Lieut. Mudge, who was speechless. 
 
 .?■ 
 
ESCAPE OP RANSOM CLARK. 
 
 *'Xir 
 
 We set him ud against ft tree, and he was found there two 
 months after, when Gen. Gaines sent a detachment to bory the 
 bodies of our soldiers. All hands then commenced throwing 
 Up a small triangular breastwork of logs ; but, just as we had 
 raised it about two feet, the Indians returned and renewed the 
 engagement. A part of our ^yjops fought within the breast- 
 work, and a part outside. I rem'amed outside till I received a 
 . ball in my right arm, and another near my right temple, which 
 came out at the top of my head. I next received a snot in my 
 thigh, which brought me down on my side, and I then got into -^ji, 
 the breastwork. We gave them forty-nine discharges from the 
 cannon ; and while loading for the fiftieth, and the last shot we 
 had, our match went out. The Indi(in»>chiefly levelled at the 
 men who worked the cannon. In the mean time the main body 
 of our troops kept up a general fire with musketry. 
 
 The loss of the enemy must have been very great, because 
 we never fired until we fixed on our men ; but the cannon was 
 joiecessarily fired at random, as only two c^ three Indians ap- 
 peared together. When the firing commenced, the van-guard 
 wheeled, and, in returning to the main body, were entirely cut 
 lip. The battle lasted till about fouif^n the afternoon, and I 
 Was about the last man who handled a gun, while lying on my 
 side. At the close I received a shot- in tny right shoulder, 
 which passed into my lungs ; the blood* gushed out of my 
 mouth^n a stream, %ndt dropping my musket. I rolled over ori 
 my face. The Indians then entered the bfealtwork, but found 
 not one man standing to defend it. l^ey secured the arms, 
 ammunition, and the cannon, and despatched such of our fallen 
 soldiers us they supposed still to be alive. Their negroe^ then 
 came in to strip the dead. I had by this time somewhat t9(^» 
 ed, and a negro, observing that I was hot dead, took up a nius- 
 ket, and shot me in the top of the shoulder, jind the ball came 
 put at my back. After firing, h^ said, " Dere, d — n you, take 
 dat." He then stripped me of every thing but my shirt. 
 ^ The enemy then disappeared to the left of the pond, and, 
 dlrough weakness and apprehensioi, I remained still, till about 
 nine o'clock at night. I then commenced crawling on my 
 knees and left hand. As I was crawling over the dead, I put 
 my hand on one man who felt different from the rest ; he was 
 warm and limber. I roused him uf,'^and found it was De 
 Courcy, an Englishman, and the soa of a British officer, resi- 
 dent in Canada. I told him that it was;^st for .us to attempt 
 totravel, as the danger appeared to be a||^#and we might fall 
 in with assistance. ^ • ** 
 
 As he was only Wounded in the side and arm, he could walk 
 ft littlie. We got along as well as we could that night, contin- 
 
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 ■■*• 
 
THOMPSON'S ESCAPE. 
 
 2B7 
 
 e two 
 
 ry the 
 
 owinff 
 
 re had ^^ 
 
 ed th« 
 
 breast- 
 
 >ived a 
 which 
 in my .. 
 
 rot into -f,. 
 
 om the 
 
 shot we 
 
 \ at the 
 
 in body 
 
 because 
 ion was 
 ians ap- 
 n-cuard 
 rely cut 
 n, and t 
 I on my 
 boulder, 
 of my 
 over on 
 It found 
 arms, 
 ir fallen 
 )e^ then 
 tr^- 
 a nitis- 
 lU came 
 lu, take 
 t. 
 
 id, and, 
 
 II about 
 
 on my 
 
 |d, I put 
 
 e was 
 
 as De 
 
 ir, resi- 
 
 Lttempt 
 
 ;ht fall 
 
 |d walk 
 I contin- 
 
 ued on till next noon, when, on a rising around, we observed 
 an Indian ahead, on horseback, loading his rifle. We agreed 
 that he should go on one side of the road and I on the other. 
 The Indian took after De Courcy, and I heard the discharge 
 of his rifle. This gave me time to crawl into a hammock and 
 hide away. The Indian soon r jrned with his arms and legs 
 covered with blood, having, no doubt, according to custom, cut 
 De Courcy to pieces after bringing him down with his rifle. 
 The Indian came riding through the brush in pursuit of me, 
 and approached within ten feet, but gave up the search. I 
 then resumed my route back to fort Brooke, crawled and limped 
 through the nights and forenoons, and slept in the brush dur- 
 ing the middle of the dity, with no other nourishment tlian cold 
 water. I got to fort Brooke on the evening of the fifth day ; 
 and in five months afterwards was discharged as % pensioner, 
 at eight dollars per month. The doctor attributes 'my not dy- 
 ing of my wounds to the circumstance that I bled a good deal, 
 and did not partake of any solid food during the five first days. 
 Two other soldiers, l^'lhe names of Thomas and Sprague, 
 also came in afterwards. ^ Although badly wounded^ they as- 
 cended a tree, and thus oscaped the epemy, on the evening of 
 the battle. They joined another expedition, two months after, 
 but before their wou^iS were healed, and they soon died of 
 them. »# ^ ^ 
 
 THE^FOLLOWINQ 
 
 D. 
 
 NARRATIVE OP ONE OP THE MOST EXTRAORDINARY ES- 
 C^fES PROM A DREADPUL DEATH, ANYWHERE RECORDED, 
 IS CONTAINED IN A LETTER WRITTEN BY THE SUFFERER 
 TO THE EDITOR OP THE CHARLESTON (S. C.) COURIER, 
 IMMEDIATELY A^ER IT HAPPENED. IT TOOK PLACE AT 
 CAPE FLORIDA LIGHTHOUSE, IN 1830. 
 
 On the 23d of July last, about four P. M., as I w^as going 
 from the kitchen to the dwelling-house, I discovered a large 
 body of Indians within twenty yards of me, back of the kitch- 
 en. I ran for the lighthouse, and called out to the old negro 
 man that was with me Jto run, for the Indians were near; at 
 that moment they dischar^d a volley of rifle balls, which cut 
 my clothes»and hat, and perforated the door in many places. 
 We got in, and* as Iw'^ turning the key the savages had hold* 
 of the door. I statiS^eiHthe^egro at the door, with orders to 
 let me know if they attempted to break in ; I then took my 
 three muskets, which were loaded with ball and buck-shot, and 
 went to the second window. Seeing ^ large body of them op« 
 
 
 * 
 
 » 
 
358 
 
 ESCAPE OF 
 
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 posite the dwelling-house, I discharged my muskets in succes- 
 sion among them, which put them in some confusion ; they 
 then, for the second time, began their horrid yells, and in a 
 minute no sash or glass was left at the window, for they vented 
 their rage at that spot. I fired at them from some of the other 
 windows, and from the top of the house ; in fact, I fired when- 
 ever I could get an Indian for a mark. I kept them from the 
 house until dark. 
 
 They then poured in a heavy fire at all the windv^ws and 
 lantern ; that was the time they set fire to the door and window 
 even with the ground. The window was boarded up with plank 
 and filled up with stone inside ; bjut the flames spread fast, 
 being fed with yellow pine wood. Their, balls had perforated 
 the tin tanks of oil, consisting of two. hundred and twenty-five 
 gallons ; my bedding, clothing, and in fact every thing I had, 
 was soaked in oil. I stopped at the door until driven away by 
 the flames. I then took a keg of gunpowder, my balls, and 
 one musket to the top of the house, then*went below, and be- 
 
 fan to cut away the stairs about haliFway up from the bottom, 
 had difficulty in getting the old ^legro up the space I had 
 already cut ; but the flames now "droire me./rom my labor, and 
 I retreated to the top of the house. I* toxei^ed over the scuttle 
 that leads to the lantern, which kept (he^ fire from me for some 
 time ; at last the #wful moment arrived, the crackling flames 
 burrit around me, the savages at the sanip time began their 
 hellish ydCts. My poor old negro looked ro me with tears in 
 his eyes, but ^uld not speak ; we w^t out of the lantern, and 
 lay down on ine edge of the platform, two feat wide ; the lan- 
 tern now was full of flame, the lamps and glasses bursting and 
 flying in all directions, my clothes on fire, and to mov^^om 
 the place where I was would be instant death from their'^'rifles. 
 My flesh was roasting, and to put an end to my Horrible suf- 
 fering, I got up, threw the keg of gunpowder down the scuttle 
 — instantly it exploded, and shook the tower from the top to 
 the bottom. It had not the desired effect of blowing me into 
 eternity, but it threw down the stairs and all the Mfooden work 
 near the top of the house ; it darrlped the fire for a moment, 
 but it soon blazed as: fierce as ever ; the negro man said he was 
 wounded, which was the last word h^spoke. 
 
 By this time I had received som^'ounds myself; and find- 
 ing no chance for my life, foi;, I was joasting al^ve- I took the 
 determination to jump ofT. T got upgp^nt outside the iron 
 railing, recommending my soul to Qlhii^^d was on the point 
 of going fcead for|?most on the * oclcsT)ffbw, when something 
 dictated to me to return and lie down again. I did so, and in 
 two minuiBS the fire fell to the bottom of the house. It is a 
 
 # 
 
 
 
 ^w 
 
1 succes- 
 on ; they 
 and in a 
 ;y vented 
 the other 
 ed when- 
 from the 
 
 dv^ws and 
 i window 
 nih plank 
 iread fast, 
 )erforated 
 TCnty-five 
 ng I had, 
 I away by 
 balls, and 
 r, and be- 
 lie bottom, 
 lace I had 
 labor, and 
 ,he scuttle 
 J for some 
 ng flames 
 sgan their 
 h tears in 
 Item, and 
 ; the Ian- 
 sting and 
 ovi^^om 
 eiAifles. 
 rible suf- 
 ,e scuttle 
 ho top to 
 me into 
 en work 
 moment, 
 d he was 
 
 md find- 
 took the 
 [the iron 
 the point 
 |>mething 
 and in 
 It is a 
 
 JOHN W. B. THOMPSON. 
 
 359 
 
 remarkable circumstance, that not one ball struck me when I 
 stood up outside the railing, although they were flying all 
 around me like hail-stones. I found the old negro man dead, 
 being shot in several places, and literally roasted. A few 
 minutes after the fire fell, a stiff" breeze sprung up from the south- 
 ward, which was a great blessing to me. I had to lie where I 
 was, for I could not walk, having received six rifle balls, three 
 in each foot. The Indians, thinking me dead, left the light- 
 house, and set fire to the dwelling-house, kitchen and other 
 out-houses, and began to carry their plunder to the beach ; they 
 took all the empty barrels, the drawers of the bureaus, and in 
 fact every thing that would act as a vessel to hold any thing ; 
 my provisions were in the lighthouse, except a barrel of flour, 
 which they took off". The next morning they hauled out of 
 the lighthouse, by means*'of a pole, the tin that composed the 
 oil tanks, na doubt to make grates to manufacture the coonty 
 root into what we call arrow root. After loading my little 
 sloop, about ten or tvyelve went icto her ; the rest took to the 
 beach to meet at the othoftf^pnd of the island. This happened, 
 as I judge, about ter^, *A. M. My eyes being much affected, 
 prevented me from knowiii^ their actual force, but I judge there 
 were from forty to MtyntTaerh aps more. I v/as now almost as 
 bad off as before ; at^^mn? f 3vpr on me, my feet shot to pieces, 
 no clothes to cover me, nothmi? to eat or drijik, a hot sun over- 
 head, a dead man bv my side, no friend near or any to expect, 
 and placed betweerflfeel^enty and eighty feet from theejj^lj, and 
 no chance of gettiwg dofy^n, my situation was truly hoctible. 
 About twelve o'clock, 1 ifcought I could perceive a vessel nR far 
 off; I took a pieie of the old negro's trowsers that had escaped 
 the fl[vnes by being wet with blood, and made a signal. 
 
 Somt time in the afternoon, I saw two boats with my sloop 
 in fow coming to the landing. I had no doubt but they were 
 Inaians, having seen my signal, and had returned to finish 
 their murderous design : but it proved to be boats of the United 
 States schooner Motto, Capt. Armstrong, with a detachment 
 of seamen and marines, under the command of Lieut. Lloyd', 
 of ^he sloop-of-war Concord. They had retaken my sloop, 
 after the Indians had stripped her of her sails and rigging, and 
 every thing of consequence belonging to her; they informed 
 me they heard my explosion twelve miles off, and ran down to 
 my assistance, but did not expect to find me alive. Thos6 
 
 " " ' power to relieve me, hit, night com- 
 
 jard the Motto, after assuring me of 
 
 Next morning, Monday, July 5, three boats landed, among 
 them Capt. Cole, of the schooner Pee "Dee, from "Nsw York. 
 
 gentlemen did *all in th ^ 
 ing on, they returnedi^ 
 their assistance in th " 
 
 
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 .#" 
 
 
 
360 
 
 THOMPSON'S ESCAPE. 
 
 i^' 
 
 They had made a kite during the night, to get a line to me, 
 but without effect; they then fired twine from 'their muskets, 
 made fast to a ramrod, which I received, and hauled up a tail* 
 block and made fast round an iron stanchion, rove the twine 
 through the block, and they below, by that means, rove a two- 
 inch rope, and hoisted up two mei^, who soon landed ifte on 
 terra firma. I must state here, that the Indians had made a 
 ladder, by lashing pi|fies of wood across the lightning rod, near 
 forty feet from the ground, as if to have my scalp, nolens vo- 
 lens. This happened on the^fourth. After I got on board the 
 Motto, every man, from the captain to the cook, tried to alle- 
 viate my sufferings. On the seventh, I was received in the 
 military hospital, through the politeness 'of Lieut. Alvord, of 
 the fourth regiment of United States Infantry. He has done 
 every thing to make my situation as comfortable as possible. 
 
 I mustliot omit here lo return my thanks to the cit&ens of 
 Key West, generally, for their sympathy and kind offers of any 
 thing I would wish, that it ^&s in their power to bestow. Be- 
 fore 1 left Key West, two balls werete^jtracted, and one remains 
 in my right leg; but, sincfi 1 am un !er 'thie icare of Dr. Rdn- 
 aey, who has paid every attentiorf* to me, he will know best 
 whether"^ to extract it. <# not. ^. ♦ 
 
 ' These liniss are written to let rtky friends know that I am 
 ■tUlinthe land oLi;heUvii%, and an#now in Charleston, S. C, 
 wfiire eygry attemiou is paid me. Although a crippU, I can 
 Mt IIK7 ;ftul>wance, and walk about withMilfthe use of a cane. 
 '*■ Respectfully yours, j^ 
 
 JOI»ll|F. B. THOMPSON. 
 
 ■ ff^r