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I by errata mad to nent une pelure. fapon d 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 S 6 ISTARRATIVE OF THE SUFFERING & DEFEAT OF THE NORTH-WESTERN ARMY, ■A UNDER GENERAL WINCHESTER: MASSACRE OF TrIE PRISONERS : SIXTEEN MONTHS IM- PRISONMENT OF THE WRITER AND OTHERS WITH THE INDIANS AND BRITISH : BY WILLIAM ATHERTON. FRANKFORT, KY. Printed for the Author by A. (i. Hodges. 1842. \ ^ A? 244067 1 [Copy Right secured according to law.] / PREFACE. / : The greater part of this short narrative was writ- ten years ago. At that time it was intended for publication. But for several years past the writer had declined ever letting it come before the world ; and had it not been for the solicitations of friends, it is highly probable this intention would never have been changed. But relying upon the opinion of those whom he believed to be well qualified to judge of it, and believing them to be sincere in their expression of opinion, I have consented to let it go and take its chance before the public. It was found difficult to give such an account of that part of the campaign which it was thought to be most important, without commencing as far back as the departure of the army from Kentucky. This part of tne history has, however, been passed over very rapidly, perhaps rather too much so to make it at all satisfactory. The writer is aware that he has omitted much which would have added to the inter- est of this little history ; but he has not leisure to go over it again. History has given us an account of the sufferings of the North- Western Army only in general terms, but no where, so far as I have been able to learn, has there been given a particular detail of the sufferings and privations of that detachment of the army. I think it proper that the rising generation should know what their fathers suffered, and how they acted in the hour of danger ; that they sustain- ed the double character of ^^ Americans and Ken- hickians.''^ This narrative has been made as concise \ \ 4 PREFACE. as I could conveniently mal' forced marches, to intercept them. At this time Captain Bland Ballard showed his skiM in Indian fighting, by making good his re- treat, foi which he deserves much. His Lieu- tenant, Munday, who had parted with him in the morning, also eilected a retreat, by charging upon the Indians, before they ascer- tained his numbers, and then dashing into camp. The next day our spies had an ac- tion — had one wounded — and saw sev- eral Indians fall. The day following the In- dians showed in front of the spies, and snap- ped at one of our men — a fire was returned, which left blood where the Indians stood. The Indian spies were on horse back, vv^hich rendered it difficult to ascertain their situa- tion. Our spies could not, with propriety, venture far from us, and we could not ad- Tance until the country was reconnoitered, consequently our march was slow. A short turn to the right, however, and crossing the ^ V .mj'i*;f'','i*;'ji ATIIEUTON S NARRATIVE. river at an unexpected place, gave us the ad- vantnge. After crossing the river we saw tliat tlie enemy had artillery, and were ahead of us. Wo were now within six miles of Defiance. It was very bushy for more than a mile before we approached the fort. The army remained at camp that morning, and sent out spies in every direction ; when they returned, they reported that the enemy had gone od'down the river. It was then deem- ed inexpedient to move so late in the after- noon. It was supposed there were from one to two hundred Britisli, with from two to five pieces of cannon, and from four to six hun- dred Indians. The artillery was certainly brought up by water to this place, and re- embarked hero again. Their object must have been Fort Wavne. By this lime we became very scarce of provisions, liaving nothing for some days but the poorest beef. Some of the men began to murmer — and some went so far as to talk of returninnr home — but when this was known by the officers, measures were taken to put a stop to it. Colonel Allen, in an ani- mated and encouraging address to his men, banished the idea of shrinking in the day of adversity. Captain Simpson, also, was not ^/-'g... '^S^., ' ! 10 atherton's narrative. unemployed. This was the tirst time we had sensibly felt the want of bread. General Harrison returned to the army on the second of October. We were greatly animated at seeing him among us once more. He addressed the whole army in a most thril- ling speech, which kindled in the breasts of the men, generally, an increased desire to meet the enemy, and a willingness to endure any privations they might be called to suffer. He remained with us but a sbort time. The enemy having retreated before us in every direction, leaving us an extensive ter- ritory to occupy; our object then was to es- tablish a chain of fortified posts, in order to iacilitate the supplies necessary for a speedy invasion of Upper Canada. Notwithstanding we were in the enemy^s country, where Indian spies were seen almost every day, yet it was impossible to keep the men from imprudently hazardinii: their lives! Shortlv after our ar« rival at Fort Defiance, five of our men, who had been out gat'^ering plums, were found scalped. About this time Captain Garrard's troop of horse, and another company, met a scouting party of Indians and routed them. One of our militia was killed and another wounded. In consequence of this informa- '^r.O M . atherton's narrative. 11 who bund ard's net a lem. )ther rma- tion, General Harrison marched the whole of his army from St. Mary's to Defiance. Gen- eral Harrison had heard from General Kelso, who commanded a detachment of troops on lake Erie, that two thousand Inaians and some regulars with several pieces of artillery, had left Maiden on an expedition against Fort Wayne ! This news, with other exaggera- ted accounts, induced the belief that General Winchester was likely to be defeated. As before stated, all the forces at St. Mary's were put in motion, but before they reached Defiance information of the enemy's retreat was received. Before General Harrison left Defiance, he selected a situation for a new fort. A party of men was detailed to procure timber for the buildings. General Winchester, also, moved his camp from the Miami to the Au- glaize river. The command of the left was now con- fided to General Winchester, who was in- structed to occupy the rapids as soon as pos- sible for the purpose of securing a quantity of corn which had been raised by the inhab- itants. Before General Harrison left, he ordered General Tupper to take all his mounted men 12 ATHERtON^S NARRATIVfi. and proceed down the Miami as far as the Rapids. When this order was issued, Gen* eral Tupper's command was immediately sup- plied with provision for eight days, which in- cluded all the flour in camp. About 12 o'- clock next day a party of Indians fired on the men immediately on the opposite bank of the Miami, one of whom they killed, scalped, and then fled ! This, for a moment, produced alarm, and the troops were formed in order of battle, Presently small parties of horse- men began to cross the river in pursuit of the enemy. The horses were mostly at grass, and as soon as they could be caught the own- ers engaged in the pursuit. Eip^ht or ten par- ties went, mostly from Colonel Simrall's regi- ment, in one of which was the Colonel him- self. General Tupper ordered that no more should cross, apprehending from the boldness of the Indians that a large body might be ly- ing iji ambush. General Winchester now or- dered Tupper to commence his expedition to- wards the Rapids by pursuing these Indians. Tupper had previously sent Logan and six other Indians to reconnoiter, and did not seem willing to go until they returned. , They ar- rived in the evening, stating that they had seen a party of Indians, about fifty strong, ten miles down the river. as the d, Geri'- jly sup- lich in- t 12 o'. I on the k of the scalped, 'oduced n order I horse- rsuit of It grass, he own- ten par- I's regi- lel him- o more loldness t be ly- ow or- tion to- ndians. ind six ot seem ley ar- ey had ng, ten atherton's narrative. IB Colonel Allen now offered his services to ac- company Tupper to the Rapids in any station he thought proper to place him, from a pri- vate soldier upwards. He accepted his offer, and caused him to be announced as his aid. General Winchester issued positive orders that General Tupper should proceed; but he declined, saying he would prefer going by the Ottoway towns, &:c. At this time about three hundred of the mounted riflemen, whose terms of service had expired, left the camp and returned home. Colonel Simrall, believing that the orders of General Winchester to General Tupper would not be executed, returned to the settlements to recruit his horses and be in readiness to march when his services should be necessary. It will be sufficient to say this expedition at this time failed. Alter the mounted men left us, nothing of importance occurred for some time. We were engaged building the fort, which, through much difficulty, was at length completed. This- will appear, when it is known that at that place we had not our full rations. That this fact may be established, I will give some extracts from a letter, written at the time, by Jame§ Garrard, Brigade Inspector: ** We 2 14 atherton's narrative. have not" says he "drawn a full ration since the 8th September. Sometimes without beef — at other times without flour: and the worst of all, entirely without salt, which has been much against the health of the men. They bear it with much patience, although they have been without salt for five or six days." At this time the sick amounted to two hun- dred and sixteen men, and there was some dissatisfaction in the army against the gov- ernment because the necessary supplies were not sent on. But when they became acquaint- ed with the true cause of the deficiencv, that the fault was not in the go\jrnment, but in the change of affairs since their march, they were perfectly satisfied. Again Mr. Garrard states : "You wt>uld be surprised to see the men appear on the brigade parade. Some without shoes, others without socks, blankets, &c. All the clothes they have are linen ; but they discharge their duty with cheerfulness, hoping that their country will supply their wants before the severity of winter comes on." There are many who can testify to the truth of the above. What clothes we took with us when we left our homes had worn very thin. Many left home with their linen hunting-shirts, and some of these were lite- atherton's narrative. 15 »n since 3Ut beef e worst as been They ;h they [ days." vo hun- IS some he gov- es were :quaint- cv, that , but in ih, they jarrard see the Some alike Is, en; but fulness, their comes to the ve took worn ir linen re lite- rally torn to rags by the brush. We had heard that General Harrison had made a powerful appeal to the ladies of Kentucky and Ohio^ and we were sure it would not be in vain ; and about this time we learned that the ladies of Kentucky were exerting themselves to relieve the soldiers of this army. It was highly gratifying to us to know that we were kept in remembrance by the ladies of our ^ own State. Near this time our spies brought in a pris- oner. They took him about thirty miles be- low Fort Winchester. He called himself William Walker; had been with the Indians near thirty years, and was married to a Wy- andott squaw; he said at that time he lived at Detroit. He was recognized by several in camp, and two men said, " when Detroit was taken, under General Hull, he was painted like an Indian, and was seen out of the fort," but they did not recollect any act of hostility on his part. His story was, that he persuaded the Indians to abandon the British ; that in the end we would ruin them, &c. That for this he was put into the guard-house at De- troit, and told his conduct was criminal, and consequently would be sent where he would be kept safely ; that he made his escape from I I I 16 atherton's narrative* the guard-house — lay concealed a few day;:?? until he was ready- -and then started to join us. The general belief was he came as a spy. He seemed intimately acquainted with the Indian movements, but the officers were afraid to place any reliance upon his state- ments. He gave us a description of the force we met near Defiance on their way to Fort , Wayne. He estimated their number at about nine hundred Indians and British altogether, with two brass field pieces; that the after- noon on which we crossed the Miami, they were at Fort Defiance, which was only six miles from where we crossed the river, and that they started early next morning to- wards the Rapids. From him we learned that McCoy of Georgetown, whom we sup- posed was murdered, had been taken prison- er. Upon being asked if any prisoners had been taken, he replied one — a Quarter Mas- ter Sergeant. McCoy filled that place. We now began preparations to march to- wards the Rapids — having completed a new and beautiful fort, situated near the old one, which, like its brave progenitor, had fallen before the irresistible hand of time. We crossed the -Miami, and camped a fev^ miles below Defiance. During the time of our en- V ATHERTON'S NASRATlVf:. 17 to join i as a d with 3 were state- 3 force o Fort ; about jether, after- i, they ily six r, and ig to- arned e sup- rison- 3 had Mas- ;h to- new one, alien We miles Ur en- campment we were called to witness a very solemn transaction. A young man was found sleeping on post — he was arraigned and sen- tenced to be shot. When the time appointed frr his execution arrived, the army was pa- raded — the prisoner was brought to the spot — a bandage placed over his eyes — and di- rected to prepare to meet death. A platoon was ordered to take their stand a few paces in front of the lines, ready to fire when the word should be given. A deep silence now reigned throughout the army — every eye was fixed upon the criminal, standing upon his knees blindfolded — the officer commanding the platoon waiting to hear and give the word which would hurry a fellow soldier in- to eternity. During this moment of sus- pense a messenger came from the General bearing^a reprieve. This circumstance made a deep impression upon the whole army. It was found necessary, also, to make an ex- ample of one who had deserted. His sen- tence was to ride the wooden horse ; which was made by bending a sapling until the top reached the ground — this he did in the presence of the whole army. Very few Indians were seen or heard of for some weeks, neither had any mischief 2* I ! : IS atherton's narrative?. been done, though the men were very care^ less, and would hunt game and fruit far and near — often strolling miles from the camp without guns. The ground on this side of the river, where we first encamped, being disagreeable, we marched a few miles down the river, remained a short time, and then removed to what is called camp No, 3* There we had a beautiful situation, and an abundance of fine timber. Although the enemy had now retre?;ted and left us in possession of the Territory, we were still called to contend with the severe weather, which not only prevented the ne- cessary supply of provisions from reaching us, but in our thinly clad condition became very oppressive. We knew that efforts were making to supply us with clothes and rations, but the roads were almost impassable. About the lirst of November the men became very sickly — the typhus fever raged with violence — three or four would sometimes die in a day. It is said upwards of three hundred was on the sick list at one time. Towards the latter part of November, or first of December, the rain fell in torrents. We were ordered to build huts, for to ad- vance at that lime appeared impossible, Ma- i ATUESTON's MABUATiVG. 19 ny were so entirely destitute of shoes and other clothing, that had they been compelled to march any distance they must have frozen. What we suffered at Defiance was but the be- ginning of affliction. We now saw nothing but hunger, and cold, and nakedness, staring us in the face. At one time, for several days, we scarcely had any thing to eat but some poor beef. I have seen the butfhers go to a beef and kill it, when lying down and could not get out of the way. This kind of beef, and hickory roots, was our principal subsistence for a length of time. When we had been here a few weeks, and the ground became covered with snow, and we no longer appre- hended danger from the enemy, we were per- mitted to hunt. This we did to some extent, but in a short time there was not a squirrel to be found near the encampment. During our stay at camp No. 3, a detach- ment was sent down the river to assist Gen- eral Tupper. I was one of the number call- ed Jut for that expedition; and a hard and fruitless one it was. Colonel Lewis com- manded. We marched until about nine o'clock at night. Colonel C. S. Todd, with some others, was sent on to Tupper's en- campment to make some discoveries, and W' Ml 20 atherton's narrative, when they arrived at the spot they found that Tupper had retreated, and one of his men left dead in the camp! Th" 'nformation was brought to Colonel Lewis, d after a council with his officers, he considered it prudent to return. He thought if it were necessary for Tupper, with six hundred and fifty men, to retreat, and the river too be- tween him and the enemy, he could not be justified in meeting it on the same side with three hundred and eighty. It was stated, but I would not vouch for the truth of it, that he left the Rapids a few hours after he sent the express to our camp, without notifying our detachment at all. Early next morning we commenced our retreat, but from the fatigues of the previous day, and want of rest that night, (for we had no fire,) the most of us were unable to reach the army that day, but were obliged to camp about five miles belovsr. This was a night of keen suspense to myself, and no doubt many others. We had grounds to believe the In- dians would pursue us with perhaps double our number, and surprise us in the night; but we reached the camp in safety next morning. Our Indian spies made frequent excwrsions in different directions, but their reports were i!- h atiieuton's narrative. SI not generally satisfactory. Logans one of the finest looking Indians I ever saw, was one of them, and perhaps the only honest man among them, finding that they were suspect- ed either of cowardice or treachery, deter- mined on another expedition to the Rapids. But before leaving, expressed his grief at the stain cast upon his character — declaring at the same time that something should be done before his return that should convince all concerned of his bravery and friendship to the Government of the United States. Old Captain John^ and Lightfoot, if I mistake not, accompanied him. They had not reached the Rapids before they fell in with the spies of the British — a company of Indians supe- rior to their own, commanded by a young British oflicer : they managed the affair with great dexterity. Logan, who was a man of great presence of mind, finding, upon first sight of the enemy, a retreat to be impracti- cable, instantly proposed to his comrades to approach them in the character of friends, and report themselves as deserters from camp No. 3. Though they had but a very few moments, yet Logan fixed upon the signal, and concerted the plan of escape. • They met — Logan made his statement, which was 22 atiierton's narrative. received cautiously, but so far as to prevent immediate hostilities. They were permitted to keep their arms, but ordered to march in front, a plain indication that they were sus- pected. As the object of this band of British spies was to gain information in reference to the army at camp No. 3, they considered their object accomplished, and therefore returned from this place. A conversation soon com- menced respecting the condition, number, and intentions of the army, &g., &c., during which time hogan and his two companions were watching their opportunity to make the attack. Although they doubled their num- ber, yet they determined to rescue themselves or die. The signal was given, and each man brought his man to the ground. This left their power about equal. The enemy fled a little distance, and opened a fire upon them, which they returned with the arms of those they had shot; but finding a retreat now practicable, Logan ordered it, but in mount- ing one of the horses of the enemy, received a ball in his breast which ranged down to the small of his back; but, notwithstanding, suc- ceeded in reaching the camp that night, a distance of about thirty miles. Old Captain atherton's narrative. 83 John would not leave the spot until he had taken a scalp, which he brought to camp with him. Every effort was made by the physicians to save the life of this brave and daring man, but all in vain. I saw him a few hours be- fore his death. He died like a soldier. But before his death, was heard to say — "I sup- pose this will be taken as evidence of my bravery, and I shall be no longer suspected as a traitor." His death was greatly lamented, and his loss severely felt — and the circumstances ta- ken altogether, rendered the case exceeding- ly affecting, especially to some of the offi- cers. One of the most extraordinarv characters in all the army, was an old man by the name of Ruddle, who acted as a spy; this man made many excursions alone, and would re- , main for several days together, almost in the heart of the enemy; and perhaps advanced farther to discover the movements of the British and Indians, than even our Indian spies. During the stay at camp No. 3, the most of the information that could be relied upon, respecting the supplies which it was expected we should find in the fields at the /.'/A). ■ ) t 24 atherton's narkative. Rapids, came through Ruddle. Such daunt- less courage is not often found. To look at him you would think him touched off a little with the Potawatamie, He was well ac- quainted with the Indian mode of warfare; and, if I mistake not, had once been a pris- oner among them. Soon after this the river was frozen so as to bear us across. This enlarged our hunt- ing ground, for now we were suffering great- ly for provisions. At one time, for eleven days, we had nothing but pork, just killed, without salt. These privationr were submit- ted to with astonishing patience — there was scarcely a whisper or a murmur in all the camp — which manifested a patriotism wor- thy the cause in which they were engaged. On the 22d of December we were inform- ed, by general order, that we should have flour that day, and that the prospect was fair for a constant supply. The 24th was the period set for our stay at camp No. 3, which w^as pleasing intelli- gence to the whole army. On the 25th, at sunrise, we were commanded to march to the Rapids. Being the vanguard of the North- Western Army, General Harrison in- structed us to make a stand there until we \MM. atherton's narrative. 25 1 daunt- I look at F a little veil ac- .varfare ; 1 a pria- ;en so as ur hunt- g great- c eleven 3t killed, I submit- lere was all the sm wor- gaged. inform- ild have was fair our stay J intelli- 25th, at larch to of the rison in- until we should be joined by the North-Western Ar- my. For some time previous we had been engaged in making sleds to haul our baggage, some of which had to be drawn by the sol- diers themselves. A more pleasant and expeditious march than this had been anticipated, for after much fatigue and labor, a great number of canoes had been made, with which we ex- pected our baggage would be taken with great ease and safety down the river; but to our great disappointment, before we could make preparations, or before our provisions reached us — without which we could not move — cold weather set in, and closed up the river. This circumstance at first seemed to present an obstacle insurmountable; many of the men were sick, and that sickness oc- casioned by being compelled to eat fresh pork without bread or salt, and from being ex- posed to cold and wet. But this was not the only difficulty. Ma- ny who had not been so provident, perhaps, as the case required, were bare of clothes, and almost barefooted, and [were ill pre- pared to undertake such a march through the snovir. Thus, ill clad, worn down by fatigue and 3 26 atherton's narrative. ! starvation, and chilled by the cold wintry blasts of the north we were compelled to brave — there was no alternative — our condi- tion ma4e it necessary for us to fall upon some other plan to reach the Rapids, where we expected to meet supplies. Under the impulse of this hope we went to work and made sleds sufficient to carry the baggage. But as these were not sufficient to take the sick, many of them had to be left behind. On the 25th, as above stated, we bid adieu to this memorable < place, camp No. 3, where lie the bones of many a brave man. This place will live in the recollection of all who suffered there, and for more reasons than one. There comes up before the mind the many times the dead march was heard in the camp, and the solemn processsion that carried our fellow sufferers to the grave — the many times we were almost on the point of starvation — and the many sickening disappointments which were experienced by the army from day to day, and from week to week, by the failure of promised supplies, which were dai- ly expected : and, also, that here we parted with the sick, some of whom we were to see no more. Thus poorly equipped, deeply affected, and atherton's narrative. 37 yet or :i joyed, we took up the line of march. The reader may ask how such a number of sleds could be drawn, seeing there was not a supply of horses. Some of them were drawn by the men themselves — five men were hitch- ed to a sleigh, and, through snow and water, dragged them on at the rate of about ten miles a da v. But to our great disadvantage during our march, there was an immense fall of snow. It seemed that the very elements fought against us. But notwithstanding all, we moved slowly on towards the destined point. What the men suffered by day, was comparatively nothing to what they experi- enced by night. The reader can form but a faint idea unless he had been on the spot, and had seen and felt what we saw and felt. Some time was required to arrange the en- campment, during which time the men were compelled to keep their places in the lines, arid thus become so chilled as to be almost unfit for the necessary exertion of preparing a resting place for themselves. The snow, which was about knee deep, had first to be cleared away, then fire to be struck with flint and steel, and when no lynn bark could be had, brush was substituted in its place, which formed our bed. Hard and uncomfortable as i.. 28 atherton's narrative. it was, yet such was our fatigue that we gen- erally slept soundly. To give a detailed ac- count of individual suffering during this march, from camp No. 3 to the Rapids, would swell this sketch beyond its intended limits; and perhaps facts would be related which the present generation, who have but little knowledge of these things only from report, would scjircely believe. Our little vehicles being made upon a small scale, were too light to carry the burden put upon them, and not sufficiently high to cross the little streams which lay in our v/ay, con- sequently much damage was done to our bag- gage, and our provisions (which were barely sufficient to last us to the Rapids,) was much injured by getting wet. This, it will be plain- ly seen, was well calculated to increase our sufferings. In fact, the half of what was en- dured on this slow and painful march has never yet been published to the world, and perhaps never will. " While on our march. General Winches- ter received another despatch from the com- ma^.der-in-chief, recommending him to aban- don the movement towards the Rapids, and fall back with the greater part of his force to Fort Jennings. This advice was given in X^itEiti'ON^s NaMative. 29 consequence of some inlelligence received from Colonel Campbell, at Massiniway, res* pecting the force of Tecumseh on the Wa* bash. General Harrison was apprehensive if the left wing advanced so far as the Rapids, Tecumseh would be able to attack and des- troy all the provisions in the rear." Win- chester had already commenced his march,' and did not wish to discontinue and return. At length, on the 10th of January, we ar- rived at the Rapidsi General Winchester had previously sent forward a detachment of six hundred and seventy men, under Generial Payne, to attack a body df Indians which General Harrison had been informed was ly- ing in an old fortification at Swan creek, a few miles farther down the river. After pass- ing several miles below the old fort, and dis- covering no appearance of Indians, the whole returned to the position which the army in- tended to occupy. About this time the clothes which were sent by the patriotic sons and daughters of Kentucky, began to reach the army. The gratitude of the troops generally was beyond expression. Some had withstood the keen blasts of that cold northern countrv, until some time in January^ with linen hunting 3* m \a 39 ATHERTON*S iVARftATlVfi. shirts and pantaloons, and many almost with^ out either shoes or socks. Genera) Payne in a letter to Governor Shelby, in which he ex- presses his gratitude, as well as that of the troops, says^" As an earnest of her disposi- tion to aid the National Government, Ken-* tucky, at an early period, with a character- istic ardour, sent forth more than her quota required by the Government; and whilst a spark of genuine feeling animates the breasts of hepvolunteers in the North- Western Ar- •my, they can never cease to feel a lively gratitude for the further earnest of her anxie- ty for the cause, manifested in the late abun- dant supply of clothing." It certainly was a source of heartfelt satisfaction, to express a proper sense of the obligations under which the patriotism of the sons of Kentucky had placed her volunteers; but the pleasure was greatly heightened when we reflected that to the daughters of Kentucky we were mostly indebted for imperious supplies to meet the blasts of a northern winter. I hope it is not still too late (though many who engaged in that laudable work have gone from this scene of war and bloodshed,) for me to express my unfeigned gratitude to the daughters of my native State for the ATHERTON*S r^ARRATIVE. »I blessings bestowed on me as an individual ; and as I have never had an opportunity be- fore to express myself, nermit me further to say, that these favors, while I possess a spark of feeling, shall never cease to produce a live- ly sense of gratitude. Help, in real need, is not forgotten. "On the day of our arrival a recent Indian camp was discovered about one hal?f mile from us. Captain Williams was im- mediately despatched^ with twenty five men, to pursue the Indians* He very soon over- took and routed them. A few shots were ex- changed, by which some on both sides were wounded." A large storehouse was immediately com- menced for the purpose of securing the pro- visions and baggage. We found a quantity of corn in the fields, which was soon gather- ed ; and before any machinery was prepared to pound and sift it, a quantity was boiled whole, and eaten without even salt. But we (juickiy arranged to have it made into hom- mony,and after the hogs came, we fared well upon " hog and hommony." You may judge of our relish for our food, when I tell you that one of our company, whose name I will not give, eat so much corn that he appeared M ATIIERTON's NARRATlVfi. to be actually foundered, and unable to Walk for more thsln a week. On the evening df the thirteenth, two Frenchmen avrived from the river Raisin with information that the Indians routed by Captain Williams had passed that place on their way to Maiden, carrying with them in^ telligence of our advance^ They said the Indians had threatened to kill their inhabit- ants and burn their town, and begged for protection from the American arms* They were charged with a despatch from Mr. Day, a citizen who was friendly to our cause, and who stated that the British were seizing all suspected persons at the river "Raisin," and confining them at Maiden prison, and were preparing to carry off all provisions of every description. On the fourteenth another mes- senger arrived) and on the sixteenth two more came in. They all confirmed the news brought by the first, and solicited protection, as they were afraid the people would be mas- sacred and the town burned by the Indians whenever our army should advance upon them. They stated the present force of the enemy to be two companies of Canadians, and about two hundred Indians, but that more Indians might be expected to assemble* ATIIERTON'S NARRATIVE. 33 The greatest anxiety now prevailed in our army to advance in force sufficient to defeat the enemy at that place. A council of offi- cers was called by the General, a majority of whom were decidedly in favor of sending a strong detachment — Colonel Allen supported that side of the question with ardour. On the morning of the seventeenth, Colo- nel Lewis, with five hundred and fifty men, took up their line of march for the "river Raisin." The same day Colonel Allen fol- lowed with one hundred and ten more, who came up with Lewis late in the evening, where he was encamped at Presque Isle. Early on the ^orning of the same day Gen- eral Winchester prepared a despatch to in- form General Harrison of this movement. He stated that his principal object was to prevent the flour and grain from being car- ried off by the enemy; that if he got posses- sion of Frenchtown he intended to hold it, and that a co-operating reinforcement from the right wing might be necessary. ^ Before the express had started with this letter, information was received from Colonel Lewis at Presque Isle, a distance of twenty miles in advance, that there were four hun- dred Indians at the river Raisin, and that M I mi 34 atiierton's narrative. i'iui I ' Colonel Elliott was expected from Maldeiir with a detachment to attack the camp at the Rapids. Colonel Lewis set out very ear- ly next morning, intending, if possible^ to an- ticipate Colonel Elliott at Frenchtown. That village lies midway between Presque Isle and Maiden, the distance to each being eighteen miles. The most of our march was on the ice on Miami bay, and the borders of lake Erie. When we had arrived within a few miles of the river Raisin we were discovered by some Indians, who hastened to give the alarm to the main body of the enemy. Before we left the border of the lake, a halt was called to take some refreshment. Having resumed our march, a piece of timbered land was passed through, and as the troops proceeded in the open plain they were formed into three lines, each corps being in the proper place for p-^tion. The right was commanded by Colonel Allen, and was composed of the companies of Captains McCracken, Bledsoe, and Matson. I was in Captain Bledsoe's company during this expedition. The left wing was commanded by Major Graves, and was composed of the companies of Ham- ilton, Williams, and Kelly. The centre con- sisted of the companies of Hightower, Col- 11 Maiden, 3 camp at It very ear- sible, to an- own. That ue Isle and g eighteen s on the ice lake Erie. 3W miles of )vered by e the alarm Before we was .called ig resumed land was proceeded >rmed into the proper ommanded ised of the Bledsoe, Bledsoe's The left Graves, and of Ham- lentre con- >wer, Col- atherton's narrative. 35 lier, and Sabree, and was commanded by Major Madison. The advance guard con- sisted of the companies of Captains Hickman, Graves, and Jones, under the command of Captain Ballard, acting as Major. When we arrived within a quarter of a mile of the village, and discovered the enemy in motion, the line of battle was formed — ex- pecting an immediate attack — but it was soon perceived the enemy did not intend to risk a combat in the open field. The detachment broke off by the right of companies and marched under the fire of the enemy's can- non until we arrived on the river. We suc- ceeded well 111 crossing, though the ice in ma- ny places was very slippery. Having cross- ed, instantly the long roll was beat (the sig- nal for a general charge.) Majors Graves and Madison were ordered to possess themselves of the houses and picketing, about which the enemy had collected, and where they had placed their rannon. This order was prompt- ly 'executed, and both battalions advanced under an incessant shower of bullets; neither the picketing nor fencing over which they passed retarded their progress or success, for the enemy in that quarter was dislodged. — Meantime, Colonel Allen fell in with them ^ i' 1 (I „.,, II i m\ ii'4 36 atherton's narbative. #:. a considerable distance to the right, when, af- ter pursuing them to the woods, they made a stand with their howitzer and strall arms, covered by a chain of inclosed lots and a group of houses, having in their rear a thick brushy wood filled with fallen timber. Or- ders were now given through Major Garrard to Majors Graves and Madison to possess themselves of the woods on the left, and move up towards the main body of the ene- my as fast as practicable, and divert their at- tention from Colonel Allen. At the moment the fire commenced with the battalions, the right wing advanced, and the enemy was soon driven from the fencing an(J,|iouses, and our troops began to enter the woods in close pursuit. The fight now became very close, and extrettiely hot on the right wing — the enemy concentrating the chief of their forces of both kinds to force the lines, but still kept moving in a retreat, although slowly, for we were much exhausted. The joint exertions of Graves, Madison, and Allen, were suc- cessful in completely routing the enemy. The distance they retreated before us was not less than two miles, and every foot of the way under charge. The battle lasted from three o'clock until dark! The detachment was \ atiierton's narrative. 37 then drawn off in good order, and encamped upon the ground the enemy first occupied. About the going down of the sun, I received a wound in my right shoulder. A momeat before I received the shot, I axw John Locke and Joseph Simpson advancing together, some distance to the left, and ahead of the main body. One was killed and the other wounded not far from the spot where I last saw them. "The gallant conduct," says Colonel Lew- is, "of Colonel Allen during every charge of this warmly contested action, has raised for him no ordinary military merit. Majors Graves and Madison deserve high praise for their undeviating attention to orders, and the energy and despatch with which they execu- ted them. Captain Blan B. Ballard also led the van with great skill and bravery." He further says: "I take this opportunity of ten- dering my most hearty thanks to Brigade Major Garrard, Captain Smith, and Adjutant McCuller, who acted as my aids, for the great support they gave me during the whole of the action. The company officers acted with great bravery." The Colonel closes by say- ing, "both officers and soldiers supported the 38 ATIIERTON'S NARRATIVE. double character of Americans and Kentuck- » i- ■ lans. It was impossible for us to ascertain the exact force of the enemy; but from the best information, there were about one hundred British and four hundred Indians. It was said Major Reynolds was present and com- manded the whole. Their number killed we could not ascertain, and perhaps it is un- known to the Americans until the present time. From the number found on the field where the battle commenced, and from the blood and trails where they had dragged off their dead and wounded, the slaughter must have been considerable. One Indian and two Canadian militia were taken prisoners. So steady and composed were our men in the assaults, that while the enemy were killed or driven from their houses, not a woman or child was injured. Our loss was twelve kill- ed and fifty five wounded. Joseph Simpson was the only man belonging to Captain Simp- son's company that was killed in the first en- gagement. Very few of our men were kil- led or wounded until we reached the woods; here we fought under great disadvantages, not being acquainted with the ground, and mo^t of us being unacquainted with the Indian athbrton's narrative. 39 mode of warfare. Thus our want of expe- rienOe and eagerness to overtake the enemy, gave them a decided advantage over us. Their method was to retreat rapidly until they were out of sight, (which was soon the case in the brushy woods,) and while we were advancing they were preparing to give us another fire; so we were generally under the necessity of firing upon them as they were retreating. During the chai*e, I saw sever- al of our brave boys lying upon the snow wallowing in the agonies of death. But none could stop even to help his brother, for our situation required the utmost exertion of ev- ery man as long as he could render any ser- vice. It was sometime after dark before we reach- ed the place from v/hich we drove the ene- my, where we encamped for the night, and where we were accommodated with all the necessaries of life, and every attention which our situation required. I cannot but speak a word in favor of our physicians; too much cannot be said in their praise for the prompt attention which they gave on that occasion. Though it was late before the houses wore prepared, and other arrangements made for the accommodation of the wounded, yet ev- ' i i .'If It 'mi 40 atherton's narrative* ery man had his wounds dressed before th» surgeons took any rest. Their memory de- serves to be perpetuated. Immediately after the battle an express was sent to convey the news of our success to- General Winchester, at whose camp he ar- rived before daylight; and from that place another was sent to communicate the intelli- gence to Gener-^i Harrison. Colonel LewS was determined, if possible^ tt) hold the place until a reinforcement could be sent on. We knew our situation was very critical, being only eighteen miles from. Maiden; yet it appeared to make scarcely any impression upon our minds, so long had we been in the region of the enemy, and so much had we suffered from cold, hunger, and fatigue. Ihe fare was now so different to what we had; been accustomed since we left the settlement in Ohio — and some of the troops were so much elated with having driv- en the enemy from their fortifications, and having taken possession of their provisions, &c. — that we almost seemed to forget that we had an enemy in the world. On the evening of the nineteenth, General Winchester left the Rapids with two hundred and fifty men, wjugh were all that could h^ { atherton's narrative. 41 spared from that post. He reached us, on the night of the twentieth, and encamped in an open lot on the right of the former detach- ment. Colonel Lewis had encamped in a place where he was defended by garden pick- ets, which were sufficient to defend from an attack of small arms. Colonel Wells com- manded the reinforcement; and to him the <3^eneral named, but did not positively com- mand, a breast-work for the protection of his camp. The General himself, established his quarters in a house upon the south sidy of the river, about three hundred yards from the camp. On the 21st, a place was selected for the whole detachment to encamp, in good order, with a determination to fortify the next day. About sunset Colonel solicited and obtained leave to, return to the Rapids. Gn this day, certain information was obtained that the British were preparing for an attack, and that we might look for it in a very short time. A Frenchman came from Maiden with information that a large force of British and Indians — which he supposed would num- ber near three thousand — were about to march from that place shortly after he left it. But even this was not credited, or if believed, 4* 42 atherton's narrative. fc i i 1 was little regarded by many of the troops P The most of the men acted as though they knew themselves to be perfectly secure ; some wandering about the town until a late hour at night ! For myself, I can say, I felt little dread, though I had reason to belipve that our situation was very perilous. I slept soundly until awaked by the startling cry of "to arms ! to arms !'' and the thundering of caiiK non and roar of small arms, and the more terific yelling of savages. Major Madison and Colonel Lewis, togeth- er with most of the officers, had cautioned their men to be on their guard, and be pre- pared for an attack. Guards, as usual, were placed out; but as it was extremely cold, no picket guard was placed upon the road by which the enemy was expected to advance. At day-break, on the morning of the 22nd, just as the drum began to beat, three guns were fired by the sentinels ; in an instant the man were at their posts. The British now began to open a heavy fire of cannon and small arms. They appeared mostly to direct their cannon to the house which cc*^ti..*ed the ammunition, and where the wounded of- ficers lay. Every circumstance attending this awful scene, conspired to make it more atherton's narrative. 43 a it more alarming — the time and manner in which it was commenced — for they approached in the dark with profound silence — not a breath was heard until all was ready, then, sudden as a flash of powder, the bloody work began. The first thing that presented itself to my sight, after awaking out of sleep and going to the window, was the fiery tail of a bomb- shells—and these came in quick succession. Just at this moment, the fire of small .arms from both sides began. For a considerable time it was one continued roar. But I could, nevertheless, distinguish between the enemies guns and our own. The British re- gulars approached immediately in front of Colonel Lewis' detachment, but did not long remain within the reach of small arms, for a well directed fire from the pickets soon re- pulsed them, with the loss of a number of their soldiers whom they left upon the field. They would not have approached so near if they had known precisely our situation. They told me whilst I was at Detroit,.that they thought we were encamped in the open field outside of the garden pickets; but as soon as it was light, and they discovered their mistake, they retreated. The yelling of the Indians appeared to be mostly on4h© 1 »>; 4ii atherton's narrative. right, though some was heard upon the left, but none in the centre. The reinforcement which had arrived with General Winchester, and which was unpro- tected by any breastwork, after maintaining the conflict for a short time, was overpower- ed and fell back. Just at this time General Winchester came up and ordered the retreat- ing troops to rally and form behind the se- second bank of the river, and inclining to- ward the centre, take refuge behind the pick- eting. These orders were probably not heard, and being hard pressed both by the British and Indians in front and on their right flank, they were completely thrown into confusion, and retreated in disorder over the river. A detachment which was sent from the pickets to reinforce the right wing, and a few others who supposed the whole army was ordered to retreat, joined in its flight. Those brave men. Colonels Allen and Lewis, both follow- ed, hoping to assist in rallying the troops. An attempt was made to rally them on the south side of the river, behind the houses and garden pickets, but all in vain ; the Indians had taken possession of the woods behind them, and thus completely cut off* their re- treat, and no alternative now remained but to ir--^ V, ...1, atherton's narrative. 45 stand and fight a superior force, which was every moment accumulating, and which had every advantage, or to retreat to better ground. In their dismay and confusion they attempted to pass a narrow lane — the Indi- ans were on i)oth sides, and shot them in ev- ery direction. A large party which had gain- ed the woods on the right, were surrounded and massacred without distinction. Captain Watson, who was an eye-witness, states, "that after crossing the river, they at- tempted to form and give battle, but the houses being in the way, they failed in the attempt. They then retreated through a lane for one hundred yards, on the sides of which a number of Indians were placed, who injured them very much." He, though wounded, joined in the retreat. He further states " that the Indians pursued on each side for about one mile, they then fell back in the rear." He then saw Colonel Lewis and re- quested him to form the men and make a stand against the Indians once more, as ma- ny of the men were wounded and could re- treat no farther. The attempt was made without success, as many were without arms. He afterwards saw General Winchester, and begged of him for God's sake to make a stand, I I ; 46 atherton's narrative. as the Indians were in close pursuit, and he himself was much exhausted, and was con- vinced that many more were in the same condition. The General inforraed him that the men could not be rallied. After retreating about three miles from Raisin they came to m field, those on foot' passed through, and those on horseback rode around. Here Captain Watson, General Winchester! Colonel Lewis, Doctor Ervine and Doctor Patrick, were seen going slowly forward, their horses much fatigued, and a number of Indians pursuing on fresh horses,, who soon overtook them. Captain Watson, seeing the Indians with- in one hundred yards of him, slipped through a fence, pulled off his shoes, ran along the fence in a stooping position about sixty yards, and hid himself in some high grass. The Indians continued to pursue those who were before.. He thinks there were not more than fifty men ahead of him. After the Indians had passed by, the Captain moved to a prai- rie, where he concealed himself until dark, and then pushed on to the Rapids, keeping the road a distance to the right. Mr. Newel, one of Captain Watson's com- pany, concealed himself in a barn, near to. atherton's narrative. 47 where the Indians returned. His account is, that they had "a number of scalps tied to their saddles, and a number also of our men tied." He left the barn on the 23d at night —lost his wav, and went back to the river Raisin in the night. He was there informed that all who stood their ground had been ta- ken prisoners, and that but few liad been kill- ed. It is due to the memory of Doctor Da* vis to notice a circumstance which was rela- ted by one of the wounded. He stated, that at the commencement of the action he took a gun belonging to a com[)anion of liis, also wounded, and rpoved forward to join the company; the Doctor seeing him, said, "give me the gun, your situation will not allow you to expose yourself," and went himself into the engagement — showing his promptness in every part of duty, whether in dressing thd wounded, or in facing the enemy as a private soldier. ^ . I made inquiry of all the prisoners which 1 could see, about Colonel Allen and Captain Simpson, but could hear nothing satisfactory. I spent a year in prison with several men who were in the retreating party, and often heard them relate what they knew of that sad affair; but as they did not belong to our 48 atiierton's narrative. 'V\i company, and were not personally acquaintw ed with Colonel Allen and Captain Simpson, and as they were in auch a state of alarm — all around being dismay and confusion — they could not particularly notice any person, but directed their whole attention toward their own personal safety. Perhaps the whole truth relating to those brave men, who fell in the retreating party, will never be known. It has been related that Captain Simpson fell not far from the mouth of the lane through which the troops had just passed. It has also been stated of Colonel Allen: "After making several unsuccessful efforts to rally his men — entreating them to halt, and to sell their lives as dearly as possible — that he had retreated about two miles, until he was ex- hausted; he then sat down upon a log and resigned himself up to his fate. An Indian Chief perceiving him to be an officer of dis- tinction, was anxious to make him a prisoner. As soon as he came to the Colonel, he threw his gun across his lap and told him in Indian to surrender and he should be safe. Another savage having advanced with a hostile ap- pearance, Colonel Allen, with one stroke of his sword, laid him dead at his feet. A third xtherton's narrative. 40 Indian had the honor of shooting one of the iirst and bravest men of Kentucky. Before we leave the recreating party, it may not be out of place to record two cir- cumstances which show the estimate which the Indians set upon bravery, and also how they treat cowardice. The circumstances were rc-ated to me as follows: A young man after the Indians had taken him prisoner, and appeared inclined to save l»is life, showed great alarm, and at length told the Indians that he would tell them where they might find a great many while men, and might kill them all, &c The Indians instantly took his life, although until then they had showed no hostility toward him. The other related to the narrator himself. He stated that after the Indians took him prisoner, they marched him very hard, until he became so much ex- hausted that he was no longer able to travel as fast as they wished him to go. They shook their tomahawks at him, and told him that he must march faster or die. He was starving and sick, but he kept on as fast and as far as he could, and when he could go no farther he laid down upon the ground and told them to kill him. They motioned with their weapons as if they intended to take his 5 i ' ft i 50 ATIIERTON^S NARHATI^IT. life, but when they saw his resolution tfiey became attached to him, and aided him all they could to go on the journey, and were kind to him as long as lie remained with them. After the British had withdrawn their forces from our front, and the Indians had mostly disappeared, and the firing, save a few scattering guns from some scouting Indians, had ceased, the situation of the retreating party became a matter of anxious concern with Colonel Lewis' detachment, which was left within the picketing. Some were heard to express their fears that they were general- ly cut off, because of the firing heard in that direction. During all the time the troops within the pickets stood to their posts, and now in this critical moment fully sustained the character of brave Kentuckians. Majors Madison and Garrardy when the amunition grew short in the catridge boxes, Avere em- ployed busily to furnish the men with a sup- ply, carrying them around in their pocket handkerchiefs and strewing them upon the ground at the soldiers' feet, and at the same time exhorting them never to think of a sur- render. Some of our brave men fell by a party of savages coming up under the north ATHERTOW'S NARRATIVE. 51 bank of the * river. From the house con- taining the wounded, they were discovered. Infoimalion was given immediately, and by u detaclmient they were soon routed. The firing now had ceased, except a shot as an Indian was seen passing about. The men had to keep a strict look out to prevent surp;.'ise, as the Indians were skulking about, and no one felt safe for a single moment. After the cannon, which had been placed down the river about two hundred yards, had ceased firing — the horse and driver which supplied the ammunition being killed — those of us who had received wounds in the battle (myself among the rest,) p-oceeded to take our breakfasts of a little light bread. This was all that we could now procure. All the while we were at a loss to know why the British troops had been withdrawn to the woods, and the Indians left alone to contend by themselves; but we afterwards learned that they were waiting the return of the Indians who had pursued the retreating party. When they returned they brought General Winchester and Colonel Lewis with them. As soon as General Proctor, the British commander, heard that General Winchester .*.,-'- 52 ATHERTON'S NARRATIVir. was taken, he basely determined to take ad- vantage of it, and thereby procure the sur- render of all those within the picketing. He represented to the General that nothing but an immediate surrender could save the Amer- icans from an indiscriminate Indian massa- cre. Tt was not until the ilag approached , borne by Major Overton, one of the Generals' aids, bringing orders from General Winches- ter to surrender, that we dreamed that the General, or Colonel Lewis, were prisoners. When this news reaches* the troops, that General Winchester had surrendered the whole as prisoners to the British, it was like a shock of lightning from one end of the lines to the other. A number declared that they never would submit, let the consequen- ces be what they might. But when they - fc md that Majors Madison and Garrard had consented to obey the orders of General Winchester, some of them, in great rage, threw down their guns with such force as to shiver the stocks from the barrels. When the flag above named was first dis- covered to advance, various conjectures were entertained of the design. The greater num- ber supposed that the enemy was tired of the game and wished to quit, and desired a^therton's narrative. 53 permission to bury their dead, which were not few. There were also many badly wounded. It was plain to discover where their lines had been formed, by the number of killed and wounded still lying on the field. When Major Madison approached the flag, Colonel Proctor, with great haughtiness, de- manded an immediate surrender, or he would set the town on fire, and that the Indians should not be restrained from committing an indiscriminate massacre. Major Madison ob- served "that it had been customary for the Indians to massacre the wounded prisoners after a surrender," and " that he could not agree to any capitulation which General Winchester might direct, unless the safety and protection of his men were secured." Colonel Proctor then said," Sir, do you mean to dictate for me?" "No," replied Madison, "I mean to dictate for myself — and we pre- fer to sell our lives as dearly as possible, rath- er than be massacred in cold blood." Proctor then agreed to receive a surrender upon the terms, that all private property should be respected — that sleds should be sent next morning to remove the sick and wounded to Amherstburg — and that in the mean time 5* 54 ATHERfOIl^ ISTAR^AtlVll. m 4 r % 'I ir ■I H they should be protected by a guard, and th^ side arms should be restored to the officers at Maiden. . But this unprincipled deceiver, bearing the title of General, suffered the savages to vio^^ late the treaty before his own eyes. Whilst the men were in parade to surrender their arms in order, the Indians began to tear up the tents and to plunder in every direction, gathering up every thing in the shape of clothing, and every knapsack which they could find. I could not bear arms from my wound, and whilst the men were on parade, some time before they were marched off, I was passing about and noticing the move- ments and work of the Indians. They wjre striving who should get the most plunder. I passed around to the front of the house to take a look at the boys before they left usf they braved it off as well as might have been expected. Some looked a little dejected-— others joked and laughed. One, who had not yet fallen into the ranks, was standing upon a stile-block, and said to the English: "Well, you have taken the greatest set of game cocks that ever came from Kentuck." I wish I cotild remember his name — he was^ calculated to remind one of a game cock. A.THERT0N'S NARRATIITE. 5S John Locke and Jesse Fisher, of our com- pany, were badly wounded; and as both Proctor and Elliott had promised to send sleds for us in the morning, and though able to walk myself, I resolved to risk it, and stay snd assist those who were not able to help themselves. Captain Hart, of Lexington, Kentucky, expressed great anxiety to be ta- ken with the prisoners to Maiden. His men offered to carry him, and were reluctant to leave him behind; but Colonel Elliott, the commander of the Indians, being well ac- quainted with Hart and his family — having in former life received great fiivors from them in Kentucky — assured him that he need not be under the least apprehension of danger — that the Indians would not molest those that were left — and that, upon the honor of a so'idier, he would send his own sleigh for him on the next morning and have him con- veyed to Maiden. Some of the more discerning apprehended great danger in being left, and insisted on all that could go to do so. The brave Captain Hickman saw the danger, and desired all that could walk not to remain; for, said he to Mr, Holton, (now Captain Holton,) "there are more of us here now than will ever get -g^l 56 atherton's narrative. :ti: ^/-; ■ 'li '1?^ r>' l'"l^ away." This, from what I could afterwards learn, was the sentiment entertained and expressed by all the officers. But what could they do in their wounded and defenceless condition, being no doubt doomed to death by the infamous Proctor and Elliott. These brave officers and soldiers, who had battled against the very elements for months, and had passed through sufferings almost equal to death itself, lived through it all only to meet the most horrid of all deaths — of be- ing butchered in cold blood, and that with- out having the power or means of defence. The parting was a solemn one, and not on- ly solemn, but in reference to most of those unhappy victims, it was final. Many were greatly affected, especially the friends of Hart and Hickman. But having fallen into the hands of a bloody and heartless tyrant, this brave "Spartan band" were compelled to submit to his cruel dictates. . No time was now to be lost — all eyes were directed towards the Rapids — the cow- ardly Proctor dreaded the approach of Gen- eral Harrison, and therefore made all possi- ble speed to get out of his way, fearing to meet so brave and experienced an officer; and well he might, for the sight of General ATH£RTON's NAttRATIVIi. 61 Harrison at that time would have been death to the hopes and prospects of these red and white savages, while it would have been a jubilee to those hapless Kentuckians who were doomed to death. After a few formalities of delivering up arms, &c., they were hurried off and driven like so many beasts to market, but with much less tenderness and kindness than a merciful man would show to his beast. After their arrival at Maiden, they were crowded into a pen, and there guardt*-, witiioui anything to protect them from the weather. Their bread, what little they got, was thrown to them like throwing corn to swine. Though there was a much shorter rout by which the prisoners might have been return- ed to their own country, yet this did not sat- isfy these wanton tyrants — nothing would do but the prisoners must, in the dead of win- ter, march on foot up Detroit river; thence up the Thames, to Delaware town; thence across the country to Burlington Heights; and from this point to Fort Niagara — a dis- tance perhaps of five hundred miles — when the whole could have been accomplished in about two days* march, by sending them back to the Rapids, where they would have fallen / 58 atheuton's narrative. m MJ in with Iheir friends at once. But no, — no» thing but the infliction of suffering would satisfy those cruel tyrants. These things are but barely mentioned, that the attention of the young and rising generation may bf; led to reflect upon them. And that they may have some knowledge of what their fathers suflered in defence of the liberties they now so richly enjoy. After the men were marched oft' every thing was quiet ; now and then an Indian Was seen straying about as though seeking plunder. They did not manifest hostility, and our fears began to subside, and we hoped to be conveyed to the army on the next morn- ing. Doctors Todd and Bowers were left to take care of tlie wounded. Major Reynolds and and three interpreters composed the only guard to protect the wounded from the sava- ges. We were hoping that General Harri- son, then on his way from the Rapids, would just at that time arrive and give us relief by his reinforcement. Major Reynolds was ev- idently uneasy lest Harrison should arrive. Some of the Indians staid in town until late in the night.. Major Reynolds and the in- terpreters left some time in the night ; at least atherton's narrative. 59 , — no* would ioned, rising them, dge of of the . every Indian e eking slility, hoped morn- ;o take s and only ) sava- Harri' would ief by as ev- rrive. Mate le in- , least they left our house, and we saw them no more. As night came on, our fears began to in- crease. An Indian came into the house and told us that he thought there was danger to be feared from some Indians, which he thought were disposed to do mischief. He manifest- ed some uneasiness himself; perhaps fearing that some Indian might shoot into the house. He appeared to be well acquainted with the affairs of the Indians, in general, and had some knowledge of the movements and de- signs of the British and American armies — which he was not at. all backward in express- ing. He spoke the English language fluent- ly; and from his manners, I would infer that he had spent much of his life with the white population. His principal object seems to have been to gain all the information possi- ble about General Harrison, and the strength of the Northwestern army. It is probable, however, that another object of his visit was to find out from us whether we thought it probable that General Harrison would ad- vance immediately with the main body of his army to make an attack upon Maiden. He gained but little information from us. There was but one man of our company thought- 60 atherton's narrative. w Hi less enough to give any correct information, whose name I shall not mention. He told us many things about Tecumseh and the In- dians from the north that were coming to join them in the spring. He seemed to en- tertain no doubt but that they would, when all their forces were brought together, find it an easy matter to conquer all the armies the United States could send to the north. Af- ter remaining in our room about two hours, he very politely bid us good night, and left us. After the departure of this Indian chief, (for I have but little doubt but what he was among the principal leaders of the Indian forces,) some conversation ensued among our- selves in reference to the designs of this craf- ty and intelligent chief. There was, as well as I can recollect, but one opinion expressed on the subject ; and I believe it was the opinion of all, that that would be the last night with mos; of us. We dreaded an attack during the night ; for this Indian, just as he left, said "I am afraid some of the mischievious boys will do some mischief before morning." After remaining in this state of suspense for more than an hour, expecting every moment that the sav- ages would come rushing upon us; but every atherton's narrative. 61 lation, [e told he In- ing to to en- when find it lies the 1. Af- hours, left us. L chief, he was Indian ng our- is craf- ct, but and I ,t that of us. it; for afraid some aining lan an, e sav- every thing becoming quiet, we laid down upon our blankets to rest: but rested very little du- ring this dismal night. Dreadful as was the night, the morning was more fearful. Just as the sun had risen upon us, and our hopes began to rise; and just as wo were about to eat the morsel of bread left us by our friends who had been marched off the day before, that we might be ready at a moments warn- ing to leave, should the British send sleighs for us, we heard a noise in the passage, and before we had time to think, the door of our room was forced open by an Indian, who en- tered witlvtomahawk in hand, ready to com- mence his bloody work. He was quickly followed by others. Their first object was plunder. They had no sooner entered the door of our room, than they began, in the most cruel manner, to strip the blankets and clothes off the wounded as they lay upon the door. Fortunately for me, I was at the op- posite side of the room from the door at which the Indians entered, near a door lead- ing into the front room of the house ; and find- ing there was no time to lose, I immediately passed out into the front room, where I met one of the most savage looking Indians I ever beheld. His very appearance was enough to 6 62 atherton's narrative. terrify the stoutest heart. His face painted as black as charcoal could make ii, plainly indictive of his deadly design; a bunch f^' long feathers fastened on his head, almost as large as a half bushel ; a large tomahawk, the instrument of death, in his right hand; a scalping knife fastened to his belt. He in- stanly seized me by the collar, and led me out at the front door. At first T manifested some unwillingness to go with him. He then spoke very earnestly in his own language, and at the same time pulled me along forcibly, as if to remove me from the scene of death with- in. He led me through the front gate, and down the river about one hundred yards to the other houses, in which were Captains Hart, Hickman, and others. After leading me through the front gate, he left me. Just at this time. Captain Hart came out of his room, barefooted, with nothing on but shirt and drawers. In this condition he stood in the snow for some length of time pleading for his life. I here met with the chief who had been in our room in the evening. Captain Hart understanding the designs of Proctor and Elliott, and knowing that the only possi- ble chance for life, under the circumstances, was to make somo arrangement with the In- dians. For this purpose he sought an inter- atuerton's narrative. 63 aimed )laiply ich ' lost as hawk, hand ; le in- neout [ some spoke ind at f, as if with- B, and to the Hart, g me ust at room, t and n the or his had ptain octor Dossi- mces, le In- nter- view with this one, as he seemed to be a lead- er, and very intelligent. They met in the front yard, near the gate, about the time I came ip. I stood by and heard the conversation. Captain Hart's first remark, if I mistake not, was, that he was an acquaintance of Colonel Elliott's, and that he (Elliott) had promised to send his own sleigh for him. The Indian replied, "Elliott has deceived you — he does not intend to fulfill his promise." Well, said Capt. Hart, "if you will agree to take me, I will give you a horse, or a hundred dollars. You shall have it on our arrival at Maiden," The Indian said, "/ cannot take you.^^ "Why?" asked Captain Hart. "You are too badly wounded," said the Indian. Captain Hart then asked the Indian, what they intended to do with them? "Boys," said the Indian, raising himself up into an attitude and air of consequence and insult, "your are all to he killed,''^ Though involved in the same ca- lamity myself, I could but notice the calm- ness find composure with which the brave officer received the sentence of death. The only reply which I heard him make was in the language of prayer to Almighty God to susti in him in this hour of trial. Feeling fr \,'\ 64 ATIIERTON^S NARRATIVE. that the awful sentence included invself as well as all the rest, my heart seemed to sink , within me, expecting every moment to re- ceive the fatal blow. Just at this moment an Indian dragged Captain Hickman out of the house by one arm, and threw him down near where 1 stood, with his face on the snow. He was tomahawked, but not yet dead. He lay strangling in liis blood. From this scene I turned away, and walking round the end of the house, towards the back yard, met an Indian at the corner of the house, who took hold of me and searched my pock- ets for money, but finding none, passed on. J then passed on round the house, leaving the main building on my right, and walking slow- ly that I might not appear to have any de- sign, and that I might not attract the atten- tion of the enemy. I thought, possibly, 1 might reach a small log building which I dis- covered not far from the house. As there was but one small entrance into it, and as it appeared dark within, it seemed to present the only possi! ^e refuge; and as there was no time to lose, and as life and death were de- pending, I determined to make the attempt to gain this place of retreat. But as I was with- in a few paces of my hiding place, an Indian ATttfiHTON^S NAl^RATiVE. 65 Coming from the opposite direction mft)f me, and taking hold of me, asked me wb^ I was wounded: I placed my hand upon ,5% shoul- der. He then felt of it, and finclyig that the wound was not bad, he took me'baqk to the house where he had dc posited his plunder; put a blanket around me, gave me a hat, then took me to the back door of the house in which the wounded lay, and gave me his gun and plunder in charge. In a moment every thing seemed to wear a different aspect. I now^ experienced one of those sudden transitions of mind impossible to be either conceived or expressed, except by those whose unhappy lot it has been, to be placed in like circum- stances. Until now, despair had spread its gloomy mantle over me; but hope, that cheer- ing companion, again visited my sinking heart, and I again saw a faint prospect that my life might be spared. Thus situated, I had time to see what was passing around me. I had command of the way leading to Maiden; and 1 saw but one road. I remained in this posi- tion about two hours, during which time I saw several pass — I suppose all who were able. Here I saw a striking example of the estimate a man places on life. I saw some of our own company — old acquaintances who 6* 66 ATHERTON^S NA&ItATlVfi. (•»''■. were SO badly wounded that they could scarce^ ly -be moved in their beds, understandii g that ' those who could not travel on foot to Maiden were all to be tomahawked, pass on their way to Maiden, hobbling along on sticks. Poor fellows, they were soon overtaken by their merciless enemies and inhumanly butchered. A few moments after, being placed here by the Indian who claimed me, another Indian set fire to the house. The fire was built in the passage near the backdoor where Istood. After the fire had taken considerable hold of the house, an Indian came running down stairs with a keg of powder in his hand, with the head out. Just as he got to the foot of the stairs his foot slipped, and he come very near falling into the fire with the powder. Had the powder caught, both he and 1 would have perished. The general opinion, I believe is, in refer- ence to Captain Hart, that an Indian engaged to take him to Maiden; and that another In- dian, unwilling that he should go, shot him on the load. This may be true, but has al- ways appeared to me improbable. From the position I occupied, having command of the way to Maiden, 1 believe I saw all who pass-' ed in that direction, but saw nothing of Capw- ATHEHTON's NARRATIVfi. 67 icarce- 2 that flalden ir way Poor '■ their ;hered. ere by Indian uilt in [stood, bold of down I, with foot of 6 very )wder. would refer- gaged ler In- him las al- )m the of the ) pass- f Ca|N tain Hart. Upon the whole, I am induced to think that Captain Hart met his fate in the front yard where I left him. I remained here until the roof of the house set on fire had fallen in. I heard no crv within, from which I infered that the wound- ed were killed before the house was burnt. My Indian finally returned, bringing with him one of the United States' pack horses: and placing his bundle of plunder on him, gave me the bridle, making signs to march on towards Maiden. I soon found the bodies of those poor hapless hoys who had made the attempt, but were too badly wounded to tra- vel, massacred, scalped, and stripped. When w^e reached the woods, we halted a short time by the fire. We then went on to Stony creek, where the British had encamped the night before the battle. Their wounded were still there, waiting to be conveyed to Maiden. Here the Indians made a large fire of rails, and gave the prisoners some bread. Our number was eight or ten. As we were eat- ing, one of the Indians deliberately walked up to his prisoner, a fine looking young man, a son of Dr. Blythe of Lexington, and struck the tomahawk into his head* I was looking ATHliRTON*S KARRATlVfi. the young man in the face when he received the deadly blow ; he closed his eyes, and sunk under the first stroke of the deadly weapon* xVfter he had fallen, and received two or three strokes from the hand of the Indian, an old Frenchman took the weapon out of the hand of the savage and gave the dying man an-» other stroke upon the head, which stilled him in death.* This greatly alarmed us. There *Having marked the place where this old French- man lived, in order that I might the more readily lind him, should I ever be permitted to visit the country again : and having taken particular notice of the house, I found no difficulty in ascertaining its location, and even the very habitation in which the old tory resided. After the lapse of about eighteen months, from the time I was there a prisoner with the Indians, I was there again under General McArthur, who comman- ded a regiment of mounted volunteers — one battal- ion of which was from Kentucky, under the com- mand of Major Peter Dudley. Passing by this old man's house, in company with Eenjamin Whitaker, our Lieutenant, we met this man in the street near his own house; I immediate- ly recognized him as the individual who had so in- humanly assisted in the massacre of young Mr. Blythe, at Stony creek. I mentioned the circumstance to Whitaker, and asked his advice in reference to the course best to be pursued; who instantly replied, *^let us takehim.^^ I was glad of the opportunity, and forthwith ap- proached him, and the first salutation, as near as I can recollect, was, ** Well sir, do you know any thing qf me?^^ His reply was, ''No sir, I know nothing atherton's narrative. 69 appeared to be nothing in his case, that we could see, that made it necessary for him to about you." "Well sir," said I, "I know you very well." He seemed at first to be somewhat surprised at my confident address, and looking on me very earnestly seemed to express some doubts on the sub- ject. I, however, soon removed the old man's doubts, by remarking to him, "You are the man who was guilty of the cruel and inhuman act of assisting the savages in killing one of the prisoners at Stony creek, taken at Raisin, January 23, 181.3. You are the very man, sir, and I saw you do it." These words come upon him, no doubt, very unexpectedly ; and being seconded by the voice of conscience within, made him tremble. Ho discovered evident marks of fear, his countenance grew pale in an instant ; and finding that his very fear had betrayed him, he did not deny it ; but ofi^ered as an excuse that the Indians required it of him, and that he was afraid to refuse. This excuse, however, did not satisfy us. "We considered, that as a citizen of Detroit, he had no business with the British army in time of battle. We, therefore, took him, without any further cere- mony about it, and delivered him over to the proper authorities. He was confined in jail for eight or ten days, and then brought out for trial. I, of course, was the only evidence that appeared against him. He plead the same excuse he did when we first ar- rested him. After nearly a whole day's managing in the mat- ter, between the lawyers and the jury, and after alarming the old fellow nearly to death, they ac- quitted him. I soon found that this circumstance had enraged the French population against me — particularly the old Catholic French. I, therefore, found it neces- sary, when going alone up town, to take my gun Vt^ith me well loaded : this I considered a sufficient pro- tection against any attack from that quarter. I', 70 ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. •'U die and not the rest of us. We now expect- ed every moment to share the same barbari- ty. One of our company, a young man by the name of Jones, was so terified that he began to weep, and moved to the opposite side of the fire, thinking that those nearest the danger would be the first victims. We urged him to be still, and not to discover such marks of fear, or that he would certainly be killed. The Indian who had taken me, and claimed me as his, was at this time a few steps from us, adjusting his pack; I stepped up to him, and asked him if they were going to kill us all. He answered "?/e5." I went back to the fire and tried to eat, as well as I could, without an appetite. It was now about two o'clock, P. M., and having eaten but little for three days past, and that day had taken noth- ing until we arrived at Stony creek; bat this awful cold-blooded butcherv took awav all desire for food. I soon saw that he did not understand my question, and I was then somewhat relieved. It has been said, and perhaps with due regard to truth, that many of the Indians engaged in this dreadful havoc, were under the influence of rum. They were supplied with it by the British, and atherton's narrati\e. 71 when under its influence were more savage than savages; We now took up our march towards Mai- den, leaving some of the Indians and their prisoners behind. Some of them I saw no more. They may have shared the same fate at the fire as the young man above. He was as able to travel as any of us, being only slightly wounded. He had no shoes — this may have been the reason why they did not take him on. We had gone but a short distance until we came to a number of In- dians who were dancing the war dance around the fire. Here some of them had encamped on the night before the battle. As soon as we arrived, I saw that the Indians were drunk. Here my fears were again alarmed — being in the midst of a savage camp — dancing the war dance — the blood of scores fresh upon them— -and under the influence of strong drink ! Whilst my Indian kept sober I had some hopes of protection. It was not, long however until I saw him go into the dance and begin to drink. Now I almost yielded myself up to despair. As I stood holding his horse with a sad countenance, he came to me and gave me a roasted potato. He also made some expression of friendship, 72 ATHERTON'e NARRATIVE. [ which once more tended to revive my droop- ing hopes. The Indians having finished their dance, we proceeded towards Maiden, and at night we encamped in the woods upon the 3now. We took supper upon a piece cut from the side of a hog, boiled with the hair on, with- out bread and without salt. It rained during the night, and our situation was anything but agreeable; yet I felt thankful that it was no worse. Manv strange reflections rolled across mv mind during the evening. The scenes of the day — such as I had never before witnessed — would occasionally force themselves upon my mind, the tendency of which was to spread a gloom upon every thing around me, and to heighten my fears. We were in a dense forest, removed from the sight of any habit- ation of man, the snow about eighteen inches deep, the rain making it still more insupport- able. I kept my eyes upon the Indians, particu- larly the one to whom I belonged, watching every motion, every step, and expression of his countenance. As the shades of night be- gan to close upon our gloomy retreat, it seem- ed to shed a double horror upon the scene. mmtttm .Ju. ATHERTOBI'S NARRATIVE. 73 my droop- beir dance, nd at night the 3now. t from the r on, with- ned during ; anything that it was across mv jnes of the itnessed — 3 upon my to spread me, and I a dense ny habit- en inches isupport- particu- ivatching ession of night be- it seem- le scene. The sad and heart-chilling thought would, in spite of all the efforts I could make to frown it back, intrude itself upon me, that I had been saved from the massacre only to meet a more horrid fate — that the fire they had kin- dled was perhaps to serve the double purpose of cooking their supper and roasting me to death. Whenever any of the company would lake his tomahawk in his hand, the thought would instantly spring up, now I am gone. This, take it altogether, was among the most trying scenes through which I passed during my imprisonment; not that I was ac- tually in m.ore danger, but taking all the cir- cumstances together — the place, the time, and being separated from my friends in suf- fering, and being thrown alone, and for the first time to be secluded from all but a few savages whose hands were yet stained with the blood of my countrymen, and not know- ing the moment my own might be shed — produced emotions extremely distressing and trying. After we had eaten, the Indians began to make preparations for lodging, by scraping away the snow and placing bark down upon which to spread their blankets; they sus- pended a blanket, by means of a few poles, 7 M ii , ■Il:i 74 atiierton's narrative. so as to keep the rain out of our faces. Af- ter engaging themselves in conversation for some sime, which they seemed to enjoy ex- ceedingly, and whi'jh was occasionally ac- companied with loud exultations, the propo- sition was made to retire for the night. My feelings now became indescribable. Strange as it may appear, I was apprehensive that af- ter I fell asleep they woulc' take that oppor- tunity to despatch me; I'f^th of this kind appeared \o me the mosi ^^eac"''! of all oth- ers.. With these feelings, by their direction I lay down, and knowing that they were careful to save all articles of clothing, I tied up my head in my pocket handkerchief, hop- ing that this might be some protection, be- lieving that they would not tomahawk me without removing it, which I supposed they could not do without awaking me. Thus I lay me down by the side, and under the same blanket, with the Indian who claimed me, with fearful apprehensions that I should ne- ver again see the light of the sun. But not- withstanding the cold, the snow and rain, and my perilous condition, such had been the ex- citement of the day that I was completely overcome, and very soon fell into a sound sleep, and slept sweetly until morning. The ,1-"^^?- ^'jSi^ «MIM«nMti«« 1^ atherton's narrative. 76 light of the morning was hailed with expres- sions of gratitude to a kind and merciful Providence which had shielded me through such a night. With the return of the day I had a return of hope that I should yet be spared. Early next morning we started on through the snow, mud and water. We had but lit- tle to eat, and no opportunity to warm ; my clothing was scant, and not sufficient to pro- tect me against the weathe;. We fell in with several small companies of Indians, some on foot and others on horseback, none offering any violence or showing any hostihty, but all appearing anxious to look at me and make inquiries. Occasionally we heard a gun on the right or left; but when we got into the vicinity of Maiden the firing was almost in- cessant — it seemed that the whole face of the country was covered with Indians, rejoic- ing over a vanquished enemy. I again be- gan to feel that my condition was exceeding- ly perilous, and that I was only spared from the tomahawk at Raisin, to be led to the slaughter at Maiden. Though I did not at this time fear so much from the Indian that claimed me as his, yet I had much to fear ■> ,' ; 76 ATHERTON S NARRATIVE. from the enraged and drunken savages which were to be seen in every direction. A short time before night, as we were pass- ing an old house, a squaw came out crying, and commenced beating me with ail her strength. She smote me on my wounded shoulder, and raised my temper. For a short tima I cared but little whether I lived or died. 1 thought if this was to be my treatment whenever 1 met a squaw, that I might as well give up at once and die. This was, however, my first and last wliipping from a female Indian. That night we lodged at the house of a Frenchman, whose family was ve- ry kind. We went forward again next morn- ing, and that day we reached the home of this Indian. But on our way, having to pass the vicin- ity of Detroit, the Indians called at the house of the old Frenchman who hud stained his hands in the blood of young Mr. Blythe, at Stony creek — (I have since learned that this was the name of the young man.) They held a long conversation which I could not understand, because they conversed in In- dian. The Frenchman seemed to enter heartily into the Spirit of rejoicing. They smoked together, and passed other Indiaa atiiertOn's narrative. 77 compliments, all of which I noticed particu- larly; and not only that, but marked the place, and promised myself that if opportu- nity should offer, to pay him for it. From this point we left the main road, leaving Detroit to our right ; we soon passed through a large Indian camp; just as we were entering, a company came in who had been at the battle at Raisin, bringing in their wounded in sleighs; the ono which 1 saw appeared to be very badly wounded, and con- trary to all Indian custom, or dignity of In- dian character, was heard to groan. But not- withstanding his extreme pain, he cast a most savage look at me as the sleigh passed. In passing this camp many Indians came to the door of their tents to look, particularly the young squaws. Under all the circum- stances, passing through just as they were, returning from the bloody scene of Raisin, and also bringing in some badly, perhaps mor- tally, wounded, I had fearful apprehensions — I knew not what moment an enraged savage would take my life. After leaving this camp— at which we made ne stay — I felt greatly relieved, believing there was some hope that we might pass safe- ly on to 'our place of destination. As well as 7f 78 ATHERTONIS If ARRATIVEi 1 tt I recollect, we passed but very few Indians after this ; but about sunset, when within a short distance of our Indian home, in passing over a pond on the ice, which at that time was covered with snow, the horse slipped and fell, but after some difficulty we succeeded in getting him on his feet again, and soon reach- ed the vicinity of camp, which was announ- ced to me by the Indian commencing the war-whoop at the top of his voice, which was responded to by a number of voices as loud and terrible as his own. All seemed to understand it — it was the sound of victory. As soon as we approached near enough to be recognized, every Indian, male and female, were out — all eyes directed towards us — and every man and boy shouted to the extent oi their ability. My feelings by this time — having recently witnessed so many scenes of blood, and hav- ing passed through so many hair-breadth es- capes myself — had become almost deadened ; but upon the' approach of this camp, amid the shouts of savages, and not knowing for what purpose I should be brought there, un- less to be a victim of sport for them, Ifelty and this is all that I can say — for to express what I felt, I find to be impossible. ATnERTON'S NARRATIVE. 79 Here we found the home of his wife, and , her father and mother, who all seemed glad to see us. The old squaw took me by the hand and led me into the hut, and gave me something to eat, which was in place. I now began to feel that I had friends in this family, and considered myself pretty safe. We spent about two weeks at this place, a few miles west of Detroit. A day or two before we left this encampment the Indians deter- mined on having a spree. They went to De- troit and traded for a keg of rum. They had not been at home long until most of the men were drunk. I now again felt myself in danger, for one of them attempted to take my life; I escaped because he was drunk and could not get to me. That night the squaws hid me out in the woods behind a log in the snow. They made me a bed of hay, and covered me with their blankets. When I awaked in the morning the frolic was all over. The Indians were lying about round the fires like hounds after a hard chase; the whiskey was dying in them, and they were sleepy and sick. The Indians now made ready to go out tc their hunting ground ; and after a few days* preparation we started. As well as I am able to judgej we travelled a I 1 ii! ;iil C.i] p}k f}' 80 ATHERTON*S NARRATIVE. west course. We were upon the road about two weeks; our sufferings were great from the intense cold, and from hunger; we had nothing to eat but what the hunters could kill by the way. I rendered what assistance I could in catching raccoons and porcupines, for these were our principal living whilst on the road. I suppose we travelled one hun- dred and fifty miles before we reached our destination. We now began to fare a little better, though we sometimes still suffered with hunger — it was either a feast or a fa- mine with us. The Indians would eat up all ihe provisions with as much despatch as pos- sible, and let every day provide for itself. Thus we spent our time for several weeks. Here I will give an account of a very aged man who I saw on our way out to this place. There were many families on the way at the same time — not only their wives and chil- dren, but their young men. This caused me to think that they did not expect any mor© war during the winter season. It seemed that when their actual services were not ne- cessary, they were then left to shift for them- selves. This was in perfect character with all the doings of the British during this war. We had been travelling near a week, and our atherton's narrative. 81- J a- hunters were so fortunate as now to kill a deer. We encamped at the foot of a hill, so as to be screened by it from the keen northern blasts, and have the benefit of the sun. Dur- ing our stay at this camp, the old Chief killed another deer, which, with raccoons and por- cupines, afforded us plenty of food. The In- dians made an offering of the oil, and part of the flesh of the deer, to the Great Spifnt, by burning it. This I took to be their thank offering for their success in finding a supply of provisions. Before they left the encamp- ment they burned some tobacco ; the design of this I did not so wel. understand. Soon after we began to march, I saw the marks of a cane in the snow, and as the Indians do not use them, I supposed we were overtaking some prisoners. The second day after I saw the cane tracks, we came up with a company of Indians, and here I saw the old Indian who had the cane. The moment I saw him' my attention was arrested by his very grave and ancient appearance. His head was whi- tened over with, I have no doubt, the frobld of more than one hundred winters, and still he travelled, and kept pace with the horses and young men, from morning till evening. This was the most aged Indian which I saw 82 athbrton'ss narrative. m i during my sojoura with them. Their old men are much more vigorous and free from infirmity than ours. They walk erect, and command great respect from all the younger — their counsel is heard with profound atten- tion and respect. During the month of March the Indians sent to their town for corn. We fared better now, but the corn did not last long ; so we were soon thrown back upon what game we could kill in the forests. From what I could learn, the Indians had adopted me into their family, in the room of a young man who had fallen in battle. Soon after we reached this, the place of our winter quarters, the father-in-law of my Indian dressed me up in Indian costume, made me a bow and arrows, and started me out with his bovs to learn to shoot. I was then in the twenty first year of my age. This was our exercise during the cold weather, and afford- ed me much amusement, as I had none with whom I could converse. We had many a hunt through the woods with our bows and arrows, but I could not learn to use them to much purpose. Sometimes I was permitted to have a gun, and go on a hunting expedi- tion, but was always unsuccessful — I could ATHERTON*S NARRATIVE. 83 kill no game. I once saw the Indians pro- ceed to kill a bear which had holed himself up for the winter. The scratches upon the bark was the sign. They then surrounded the tree, and all being ready, they gave a loud yell; the bear appeared, we all fired in- stantly, and among hands the bear came tumbling down. Soon after this, our old Chief killed a very large bear — one of un- common size even in that country, where they were large and plenty. He brought home a part of it, and on the next day sent out three of his sons, an old man who lived in the family, and myself, to bring in the re- mainder. The snow was deep, and we had to travel three or four miles to the place. We took our loads and started to camp. The old Indian mentioned above had on snow shoes in order to walk without sinking ; the toe of one of his shoes caught in a small snag which threw him face foremost into the snow, and being heavily laden with bear meat, the strap to whion it was suspended came over his arms, and made it very diffi- cult for him to rise. Without thinking where I was, and the danger I was in, I laughed at the old man struggling under the heavy pres- sure of his bear meat. Fortunately he did 84 atherton's narrativb. .)*", .1 not perceive me; one of the young men shook his head at u e, giving me to under- stand that I was riskmg my Hfe. I discov- ered int he was lalso amused, but was afraid to nianifost it. Our hut was now well sup- plied with meat, the finest that the country could furnish. I flattered myself that we should not want soon again ; but to my ut- ler astonishment, our old squaw, my Indian's mother-in-law, sat up the whole night and cooked every ounce of it! And worse yet — to my great discouragement, the neighbors were called in next morning, bringing wood- en dishes along with them, and after many ceremonies, the whole was divided between the company, who eat what they could and packed off ihe balance. There were times when we were very scarce of provisions. On one occasion, I re- member, we had for dinner a small piece of bear meat, which, I suppose, had berii sent in by some/ of the neighbors. Our o.a mo- ther cooked and placed it in a wooden bowl, which was all the china we had. Our dog was looking on with interest, being nearly starved ; and when the old lady turned her back, he sprang in upon the meai and started with !. in his lAPUth. The old squaw, rnih ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. 85 men liscov- afraid 11 sup- )untry It we ny ut- idian's it and yet— ^hbors wood- many it ween Id and J very 1, 1 re- iece of a sent id mo- L bowl, JT dog nearly ed her started r, t^^ith great prest ;.;: oi mind, seized him by the x\roiit to prevent him from swallowing it. She succeeded, and replacing it in the bowl, we eat it, and were glad to get it. The In- dian women are doomed to a hard life. They do the drudgeiy. In removing from one camp to another, they pack the goods and children — the men carrying only their guns. I have seen the women wade into the water to their waists in cold freezing weather. Among the Lidians, I saw several persons who had lost the tip of their nose. This was strange, especially among the females. But since, when I was in Detroit, I learned that this was a mode of punishing adultery and for- nication among some tribes. I am unable to vouch for the correctness of this statement. I will here give the reader the history of a corn dance which took place sometime this winter. Our squaws had brought in some corn from the towns. The neighbors were called together, neither to eat, nor drink, but to dance. Considerable preparations were made. Every thing was removed from near the large fire that was burning in the centre. The company consisted of grown persons on- ly. One was chosen to make music, which he did by singing and rattling a gourd with 8 ^m .t^m^^:: 86 atherton's narrative. i i shot, or beans in it. They danced round the fire in single file, the men in front. The women, whilst dancing, keep their feet close together, and perform the exercise by jump- ing. The men sling their arms most violent- ly and awkardly, and stamp their feet so as to make the earth sound. They kept up this exercise until a late hour in the night. All seemed to partake of the joy, which they considered to be of a sacred character. It was a thanksgiving for a supply of corn, and the near approach of spring. This dance was finished by a young Indian, selected for the purpose, who performed the closing ex- ercise with great animation. They now all quietly returned to their homes without tak- ing any kind of refreshment. I soon become satisfied that man in a state o^ nature labored under many and serious disadvantages, particularly* in the art of pre- paring their food. Though modern refine- ment has no doubt carried this matter too far, we may with safety venture to say that man in an uncultivated btate falls as far below what is fit and proper ior human health and comfort as refinemonl has gone beyond. The very best they can ro is to make their corn into a kind of small homony, which they atiierton's narrative. 87 ump- )lent- so as this All they It , and ance d for ; ex- iv all tak- do by the very hardest method, that of pound- ing it in a mortar — and this labor is perform- ed by the women — after which it is boiled something like half an hour, when it is eaten without salt or any thing else with it. But frequently it is prepared without this process, by boiling the corn just as it comes from the ear until a littla softened. They seem per- fectly satisfied with this alone, once or twice a day without any thing else, for they scarce- ly ever eat meat and corn at the same time. But they eat most enormous quantities, with- out any apparent rule as to time or quantity. I hcive known them to eat several times heartily in the course of a few hours ; and per- haps the next day hunt all day without eat- ing any thing at all. I think it probable that it would hardly have taken all that^we saw and experienced to have satisfied even Vol- ney himself, that the civilized is greatly to be prefered to the savage life. At this camp I also witnessed the mode of cleansing their bodies. They bent hickory poles in the form of wagon bows, and cov- ered them over with blankets. Thev then took with them a bowl of water and a large hot stone. Two went in together; they poured the water upon the hot rock, and re- f!l; i)< I' 88 atherton's narrative. m mained within fifteen or twenty minutes,, sometimes singing and rattling the old shot gourd. They would then come forth covered with sweat, ^nd sometimes plunge them- selves instantly into the river which was at hand. Perhaps it would be proper here to notice the mode of worship of the Indians. I speak only of the outer form : I know but little of the object of their worship as I did not un- derstand their language. There appears to be some similarity between them and the Jews. Their sacrifices and fasts are frequent. Their fasts are promptly and faithfully atten- ded to. Only one member, however, of the family fasts at a time, which he does for sev- eral days together, eating nothing until the afternoon. They treat their females at the birth of their children in a way to remind one of the Jewish custom. See Lev. 12 chap. At such limes — let the season be as it may — the woman is compelled to camp out in the woods by herself, and there remain for a cer- tain number of days. And when she is al- lowed to rettirn to the camp of the family, she must cook in a separate vessel for so ma- ny days longer. Our old man was verv fervent in his devo- AtltfiATON^d Ka:riIa1iVe. 89 tions, especially in his prayers. I never saw anything like idolatry among them. They are particularly careful to entertain strangers. They arc also very hospitable among themselves — they will divide the last morsel with each other. Indians travelling, lind homes wherever they find wigwams. If there is only provision enough for one, the stranger gets it, and gets it freely. When any are fortunate in hunting, and it is known to them that others want provisions, they send them a part of theirs without waiting •for them to send for it. You have been presented with the manner in which we spent our time during the cold weather, until sugar^making came on ; and now we found work enough. We n^moved to a beautiful grove of sugar trees, and near the centie of it we pitched our camp, which is the Indian mode. We soon made a quan- tity of sugar, and some of a fine quality. We used molasses and sugar with our veni- son and bear meat; and sometimes we made our meals upon sugar and bear's oil, which was better living than the reader might sup- pose without being acquainted with the dish. The Indians are sometimes very filthy in their diet. They will kill a deer and lake 8* :^f '^ 90 I ATHERTON's NAllItATIVe. ii i i > %; in ^ .S^ ' i! out the entrails, rip them up, turn out the contents, shake them a few times in the snow, throw them for a few moments upon the lire, and devour them like hungry dogs. When they kill a deer with young, the young are considt^red as a choice dish. They roast them whole. They will eat every animal, and at every part of it, from the bear to the polecat. Shortly after the breaking of the ice, the old father, one son, and myself, left camp for an otter hunt. We ascended the river, pla- cing traps where we discovered that otters had passed up and down the banks. This •we did during the first day, leaving them un- til our return. We encamped during the first night on the bank of the river. We had nothing to eat. We spent the whole of the second day in hunting, without any success; it was a cold rainy day, and we lay down the second night without a mouthful to eat. On the morning of the third day the old man left the camp very early, and about twelve o'clock returned, bringing with him two pheasants; they were put into the pot imme- diately. 1 feared my portion would be small, as the Indians, when hungry, eat most enor- mously; but another pheasant was heard AtnEHTON's NARRATIVE. 91 near the camp, which the Indian succeeded in killing. It was soon in the pot, and fear- ing lest the Indians should eat up theirs and then want mine, I did not wait until it was properly cooked before I went to work upon it. We soon devoured the three pheasants without either bread or salt. After this fine dianer we returned to camp again. We ex- amined our traps but found no game. The spring of the year now canie — the ice and snow began fast to disappear — and I now began to think more of iiome than I had done during the cold season. When the sun began to shine warm, and the birds to sing around me, I would often retire from the camp where I could think of home, and weep, without being discovered. During the time spent in these lonely retreats, which I sought often lor the purpose of reflection, Shelby- villCf Kentucky, the place of my home, would rise up before my mind with all its inhabit- ants and endearments. I would think of friends and youthful associates — of the green over which I had played when a boy at school — and of the church to which I gave my hand as a seeker of religion a few months before I left ; and of my aged parents, who I knew needed my assistance. These reflec* i^2 .0. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // 1.0 M 12.5 I.I Mi 1^ 12.2 jj- Its 1.25 ||U 1.6 .4 6" — ► V <^ ^v.^^ > Photographic Sciences Corporation \ m the i my- ly for ig side canoe ng inr- In a About I had ndians had been to the settlement and obtained about half a gallon of flour ; they prepared it in their homely way, but I thought it the best bread that I had ever tasted. On our way down the river, as we came to the road leading from river Raisin to De- troit, we fell in with some Indians who h?d been at Dudley's defeat. There was a young man with them, a prisoner; the Indians told me by signs to talk with him. When I ap- proached and spoke to him, he seemed aston- ished, for he had taken me for an Indian ; but when he discovered my being an American he was greatly rejoiced. He asked many questions about the Indians, and if I thought that they would sell him. I told him I thought they would not, as I had been their prisoner since the battle at Raisin, and they had not offered to dispose of me. I farther told him I thought his hopes ot getting away soon, if ever, gloomy. He gave me a most horrible account of the dbfeat of Colonel Dudley, and the slaughter and massacre of his men — -and expressed fears that General Harrison would be taken. This was bitter news to me. While we were talking, the Indians stood around and seemed to catch at every word, and watch every expression of our faces-— ' 1- i|i ■-^r .! [mil M atherton's narrative. showing the greatest anxiety to know what we said. They would laugh, and look at each other and speak a word or two. It seemed to afford them pleasure to hear us converse. But the time having arrived for us to proceed on our journey, we parted — his company was going by land, and ours by water, to Maiden. If I heard the name of the young man I have forgotten it. He was g'.nteel and intelligent. He informed me that he was a Surgeon. I never saw him again, and think it probable that he was kill- ed by the Indians — I am inclined to this opin- ion because the Indians, we understood, brought in and offered for sale, that spring, all which thev did not intend to kill. I think if he had been brought in I should have seen him. Some, it is highly probable, were put to death in the room of those of their friends who had fallen in battle. We encamped at night, after we saw the young man named above, on an island not far Tom Maiden. The next day we arrived, and the Indians took me down into the town, where I passed for an Indian. It was very unpleasant to me to hear such swearing and profanity — I soon left, and returned to the camp. In a few days we went up the river atherton's narrative. 97 what )ok at ro. It [ear us ^ed for ! — his irs by ime of e was jd me V him IS kill- 5 opin- 'stood, spring, [ think e seen re put nends w the lot far i, and town, very z and o the river to the neighborhood of Detroit, and pitched our tent near the spring wells on the bank of Detroit river. Soon after our arrival ar- rangements v^ere made with the British Commissarv to draw rations of bread, and sometimes fish. They had the number of the family put down in writing, which the In- dians were to present before they could draw the supply. The old Indian, having by some means ascertained that I could write, fell up- on a stratagem to increase the quantity of bread. He furnished me with a slip of paper, and proposed that we should alter the number of our family, and make it larger; I did so, and made it about double. I went up with the note myself the first time, to see how it would take. The Indians gave me a horse and bag, and sent a young man of another family with me as a guard, the distance being several miles. The young man obtained his bread sooner than I did, and left me alone. I, after so long a time-, got my bread and start- ed; as I passed through the streets of De- troit, a lady spoke to me from an upper win- dow, and said : "Are you not a prisoner, sir?'- "I am, madam." "Why do you not leave the horse in the street and go to the fort' then?" I told her I was afraid; but did not 9 '(■'»■■ * .*< : I 98 atherton's narrative. say I lacked confidence in the British, i feared they would not protect me, but deliv- er me up if the Indians should demand me. I went on toward home, and when I got in sight I discovered that they had become uneasy, for the most of them were looking out towards Detroit. When they saw me they raised a great yell, and received me and my bag of bread with great joy. Some time shortly after this the old man dressed himself up in the finest kind of Indian style, for he was a Chief. He greased his face, and then pounded and rubbed charcoal on it until he was as black as a negro. He then painted my face red, and we started to- gether to town, he walking in front. As we passed along the streets the people were very free in making their remarks upon us. " There goes a mulato," said one, &c., &c. I seemed to pay but little attention to what was said, but followed mv old Indian about fron:i place to place. In a few days they sent me over to Sand- wic/i, to exchange skins for boiled cider. I succeeded; and they drank it hot, that it might produce the greater effect; their only design seeming to be to produce intoxication. They are liberal with eyQvy thing they pos- atiierton's narrative. 99 h. I deliv- fie. I got come oking they my I sess but rum. I once saw an Indian niwe an- other a dram, and being afraid that he would take too much, he first measured it in his own mouth, and then put it into a tin cup for his friend to drink. Whilst we were here I saw Indians take medicine. I did not ascertain what kina of medicine it was, only it was something which they gathered from the woods. They boiled it down until it became thick and black. They dug a hole in the ground— ^urnished themselves with a kettle of v/arm ..ater and a piece of inner bark — after they took two or three poi tions of this stuff, they laid down flat upon the ground, with their mouths over this hole, and commenced vomiting. They would then drink large draughts of warm water, thrust the piece of bark down their throats and vomit again. This course they would sometimes pursue for hours together, until one would think that they were almost dead, but they would leave off this vomit- ing business and go about as though nothing had disturbed them. I heard nothing of any sickness before this medicinal course was commenced, from which I inferred that thev took medicine in the spring season whether sick or well. i' lil ■I'M r ■ If, i •■T I 100 atiierton's narrative. Not fav from our encampment was the grave of an Indian who had been buried sev- eral weeks. An old squaw raised an alarm, saying that he had been heard to make a noise. The Indians ran with all haste to the .^rave — I went too to see what was to be done — but although they listened with their ears upon the ground, and then stamped with their feet, and scratched in the earth, the In- dian lay still and dead in his grave. I learned from the preparations in camp that the squaws were soon to go out to the Indian towns and raise corn, and that I was to go with them. I resolved that I would not go, if my escape should cost me my life. 1 began immediately to think and plan some niethod of escape; but every way appeared to be hedged up ; there were Indian camps in every direction; there was some faint prospect of success down the river. I also thought of risking myself in the hands of the British, but, as I before said, I could not trust them; and it was well for me that 1 did not, as I afterwards, to my sore affliction, found them haughty and very inhuman to Ameri- can prisoners. 1 wish this censure to rest only upon the British officers, as many of the ATIIERTON's KAURATIVE. 101 the sev- irm, ve a the be leir vith ! In- 'soldicrs would have treated us kindlv if it had been in their power. Just at this crisis, however, an half Indian, who spoke English, came to our camp. J took this opportunity of communicating to the Indians my desire of being sold to the inhabitants of Detroit, who were purchasing prisoners from the Indians. Here I run a great risk — I knew not that they would not instantly kill me for making such a request. No sooner had the half Indian told my wish- es, than every ej^e was fixed upon me; some seemed astonished, and others angry, because I would think of leaving after liaving been adopted into the family. They soon made signs that I might go, and the old man be- gan to look out for a purchaser. Some of them treated me cooly from tliat time until I left. A Frenchman came to our camp, and offered a young horse for me — we went several miles down the river to see the horse — the Indian and Frenchman talked a long time — the Frenchman showed several other horses — the Indian did not fancy any of them, and there was no trade. I felt disap- pointed, being very anxious to be swapped off. On the next day another Frenchman came to camp riding a snug little pony, with 9* 102 ATIlEflTON'.^ NAIlHATIVIi. mm mane and tail reached nnd trimmed. Thi^ horse took the old man's eye, and they soon closed the bargain. Tiie long desired hour had come at last. I felt that I was again free from the hand of the wild savacje. I packed up the few tattered rags of clothing which were mine, and prepared to leave; but after all, savages as they wore, I was sor- ry when I bid them a final farewell. The wife of the man who took me prisoner had always been kind — she aided greatly to les- sen my sufferings — she had often fed me, and when under the rigors of a northern winter, in the wilderness, had thrown a blanket up- on my shiverinfr frame at niijjht; she had re- strained the young men from imposing upon me, as they would do by taking rny food, and my place at the fire. After Mr. J. B. Cecott, the man who bought me, and I loft the camp, the Indians stood and looked after us as long as they could see us. Mr. Cecott took me to his own' house, gave me a suit of clothes, and introduced me to his family. Now I felt that home was much nearer, being again among a civilized people who could speak the English language. And here let me pause a moment to re- mark — as I am about to leave the Indians, \ ATIIKRTON*S NARRATIVE. 103 never I hope lo spend another winter with them under the same circumstances — that the few months of captivity with this people, were, taken altogether, the most cheerless and solitary of any part of my life of which 1 have anv recollection. Tliouf'h manv years have rolled by since the events transpired, the impression they made upon my mind is almost as fresh as ever. Several things contributed to render the scene more glooiny. I lost the day of the month, and also the day of the week; every day seemed alike. No person can have an idea, unless they are placed in the same pre- dicament, how it changes the face of things to lose oil those divisions of time tliat we have been accustomed to observe from our childhood. But this was not all; to render the hours more tedious and solitary, there WPS not one, of all the families that belonged to our company, that could either speak Eng- lish, or understand one word of it. And thus, day after day, and week after week, passed over without uttering a solitary word, unless sometimes, when a little distance from camp, I would say a word or two just to hear the sound of my own voice; and it Would seem so strange to me, that it would f'>9 104 ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. almost startle me. AnJ, in addition to all this, I was almost eaten up by vermin; some- times almost starved; and shut out fromr»all civilized society; almost literally buricid. in the snows of Michigan; and in order to,pie- vent actual starvation, the Indians were com- pelled to remove from place to place, where it was supposed the hunting would be better. This subjected us to greater inconvenience, and often to great suffering from cold, having to clear away the snow, which was. very deep. But the uncertainty, and the improbability, of being released, being constantly upon me, and there appeared not the least gleam of hope until it was announced, by the prepara- tions 1 saw making in the spring, to go to Detroit. I have nothing to say against the Indian character — but many things in favor of it — but much against their manner of life. They are a brave, generous, liospitable, kind, and among themselves, an honest people; and when thf?y intend to save the life of a pris- oner they will do it, if it should be at the risk of their own. But after all this is said, no one can form any adequate idea of what a man must suffer, who spends a winter with them in the snows of Michigan. atherton's narrative. 105 But now, that I was released by the friend- ly hand of a stranger, Mr. Cecott, whom I shall recollect with feelings of gratitude so long as I can recollect anything — I felt more than I shall ever be able to express. Hope, which had almost perished, iiov^ began to re- vive, and the sight of home and friends once more began to be thought of as a matter not altogether impracticable — and that I should set my foot again upon the happy soil of Kentucky. But disappointment was at the door. Mr. Cecott informed me in a few days that he would be compelled to give me up to the British as a prisoner .of war. I gave him my note for the horse which he gave for me, which I paid him about eighteen months af- terwards, when I went out to war again, un- der General McArthur. I think the horse was valued at thirty six dollars — you see what I was worth in money. A number of prisoners were sold at Detroit from time to time, and many of the citizens showed great liberaUty and humanity in purchasing them. It should be spoken and recorded to their praise, that some of the citizens spent nearly every thing which they possessed in buying prisoners who had fallen into savage hands. 106 ATHERtON's NARRATIVE. !>:i,,i. i -i!,: m I m :i and in furnishing them with clothing and pro- vision. When i was delivered to the British as a prisoner of war, I was placed in the guard- house, where we remained all summer. Du- ring our confinement we suffered from hun- ger, and what provisions we had were not good. We had the floor for a bed, and a log for our pillow, all the time. There were six or eight in the fort that had been purchased before I was — ihey hod were taken prisoners at Dudley's defeat. This was a long tedious summer to me, for we had no employment whatever, but were compelled to lay about the fort from the end of one month to another. A gen- tleman in Detfoit proposed to the oflicer in command, to be surety for my appearance, if he would permit me to go into the town and work at my trade, but he refused to let me go upon any terms whatever. At times, during the summer, the streets of Detroit were filled with Indians; and ma- ny of them came to see us. In the month of July, we saw them have a young woman prisoner, whom we supposed they had taken from the frontiers of Ohio. We could never learn what disposition they made of her. A atherton's narrative. 107 company of the Indians from the northwest encamped for several days near the walls of the fort, immediately previous to their going to war. This gave us an opportunity of as- certaining their mode of preparation for war. Among other things, they eat the flesh of dogs. During our imprisonment here, we were brought to behold a very shocking sight. We saw, in the hands of the Indians, a number of scalps fastened in hoops made for the purpose and hung out before the fire to dry. They had been but recently taken off: and more horrible yet, the most of them were the scalps of fe- males! We remained for sometime upon the fort battery observing their situation and employment before they sav/ us. When they beheld us, and knew that we were prisoners, they raised the war-whoop instantly in token of victory. They showed the tomahawk, and pointed to the scalps, to tell that they had murdered the persons with the toma- hawk. They held up the scalp of a female and showed signs of savage cruelty and bar- barity, which I had never seen exhibited be- fore. These things were done in open day, in the presence of the British officers; and those refined gentlemen, who feel that they r. 108 ATI; lERTON* S NARRATIVE. occupy a place of elevation and superior rank in society, could look upon these shocking mockeries of humanity with the hard-heart- edness of the savages themselves. Many of the British soldiers were kind to us in our imprisonment ; they would steal us out by night, when the officers were away carousing, that we might get some recreation and refreshment. The officers were haughty and overbearing, doing nothing for our com- fort. The joy that 1 felt in being released from the Indians, soon died amid my rough fare in the British prison. During the sum- mer we were almost entirely naked; and were only saved from becoming completely so by the generosity of Mr. Hunt of Detroit, who gave us each a suit of summer clothes; which was all the clothing that we got until after we arrived at Quebec, sometime in De- cember. About the first of August, nearly all the soldiers and Indians disappeared from Detroit. We were at a loss to account for this, but supposed they had gone to make an attack upon some of the forts, or frontier parts of the Northwestern Army. It was not a great while until the secret was out. They came home cursing Major Croghan, (they had made an unsuccessful! attack upon ATUERTOI^'S NARRATIVE. 109 Lower Sandusky,) and saying that he loaded his guns with nails, slugs, and with any thing and every thing that came to hand. The faces of some of them were completely pep- pered with small shot. They lost a number of their best men in this battle. It is said thai Captain James Hunter, sometimes known by the name of "old Sandusky" — whom Con- gress since presented with a sword as a token of national respect — suspecting that the Brit- ish and Indians would undertake to storm the fort, right or wrong, swung up a long heavy log, which, in case of extreme emer- gency, he intended to use as a dead-fall by cutting loose the ropes which held it upon" the walls of the fort. This Sandusky engage- ment appears to have been a hot business all around. The well known battle upon the lake, in which Perry was successful, was fought dur- ing our confinement in this fort. We heard the report of the guns plainly, and it produced much excitement among all. Every eye was turned toward Maiden, and we eagerly caught every word that came from that direction. A few days afterward they told us that the British had taken Perry and all his fleet. The soldiers laughed at us, and told us that 10 no atherton's narrative. I ili the Yankees knew nothing about fighting on the water — that they could whip us two to one. We had to bear this as well a.^ we could, until we saw great preparations mak- ing every where to remove the arms, ammu- nition, &c., which were sent up the river. We now suspected that they had misinformed us of the result of the battle. When we asked, they told us one thing and then an- other, until one of the soldiers privately told us the whole tale — that Perry had actually captured the British fleet — and that the Yan- kees were coming upon us in great numbers, and were just "^t hand. We now turned the tables upon them— it was our time to be merry. Every day increased the hurry and confu- sion; boats and small vessels were ascending the river Detroit, bearing off arms, provis- ions, and every species of property, belong- ing to the British. It was a time of joy to the citizens of Detroit, generally, to see the Indians and British leaving so rapidly: and we were looking almost hourly to behold the Kentuckians appear in sight. We were, however, hurried up the river, as there was no opportunity to escape. The Indians were always kept in the rear during a retreat, and gon \o to we lak- imu- river. 'med we an- atheeton's narrativb. Ill stooi^ between the British and danger. If I had kept the day of the month, I could tell where Harrison, Shelby, and Johnson , were at the time when we left Detroit. Not know- ing the position of the American army, it was fruitless to hazard an effort to escape. Our British masters crowded us into a ves- sel which was loaded with arms and ammu- nition, without provisions or any arrange- ments for our comfort on the way. As we ascended the lake, we ran aground near the ^ mouth of the river Thames, and were detain- ed two days; during which time we were compelled to unload and reload the vessel. All this ume we had nothing to eat but what we could pick up, like dogs, from the offal of the ship. Here I was tempted, and worse yet, yielded to the temptation, to steal some- thing to eat, and risk consequences. The British officer had some beef hung out on the stern of the vessel, I took some of it, and we eat it. The meat was tainted; yet it was sweet to us, not because it was stolen, but because we were starving. After we had succeeded in getting the ves- sel over the sand-bar, the wind was unfavor- able, and the British officer determined to abandon her, and (after getting her up near ;►■ mi ^Ml ■■ii 112 atherton's narrative. DaIton*s she was burned to prevent the Amer- icans from making any spoils,) here we were put on shore, and walked, hungry and faint, fifteen miles to Dal ton's, where we were guarded closely. This was only the begin- ning of hard times. We discovered the de- termination of the British to send us down through Canada, and consequently began to Jose all hope of seeing the American army. A guard of British and Indians was prepared 4 to take us on. A cart load of provision was started with us, but we never saw it after the morning on which we left Dal ton's. Why this provision was started, and not suffered to proceed, we never could even guess. The officer v/as very rigorous, and would not suf- fer us to stop and procure any refreshment, but drove us onward like cattle going to mar- ket. The second night after we left Dalton's, we encamped in the woods. They now kept a close watch over us — and we were as eager- ly looking for an opportunity to escape. Had we forseen the sufferings that were ahead, we should, at least some us, have made the attempt to escape at every hazard. As sta- ted above, our provisions were left behind, and we were under the dominion of an un- feeling wretch, who would but very seldom ■I,!!--'.**,, . ATttERTON .«» NARRATIVE. 113 even suffer us to go into a house lo ask for a morsel of bread. He would march us hard all day, and at night put us into a barn or stable tj sleep. We often travelled in the rain, and then laid down without fire in our wet clothes to try and rest. This journey of about five hundred miles by land, and four hundred by water, we travelled, in that cold and rainy country, with our thin gingham clothes, given to u: by Mr. Hunt of Detroit t some of us were without shoes and coats; and we lived upon potatoes and turnips just as we could pick them up as we passed by farms* This part of the journey, from Dalton's to Burlington Heights, was, perhaps, the most painful of any ; not being permitted whilst at Detroit to take much exercise, and being forced on almost beyond our strength, ren- dered it painful beyond expression. And that Was not all: the officer of the guard, being a churlish and tyranical man by nature, failed not to make use of the little brief power com- mitted to him for the occasion, to make our sufferings the mc^e insupportable. It seemed to afford him a pleasure to "add affliction to our bonds." On some occasions, after travel- ling hard all day in the rain, and having no other lodging but a barn or stable, we had 10* .)'■ i: . «' '^ :!■'■{ .*< 4M 114 AtHEritON's liARftAtlVJK. somedifficulty in getting fireenough, or getting admittance to it, sufficient to dry our clothe*. On this part of the jou ^y, in addition to suffering from the cold rail.. , and from being compelled to lie down in our wet clothes, we were almost literally starved. On leaving the vessel on the Thames, I found a canister which had been emptied of the shot; this I took with me, which served to cook our po- tatoes, turnips, and peas, when we could get them, and when our cruel commander would give us time for it; but to add still more to our inconvenience, one of the Indian guard, on returning from Burlington Heights, stole even that from me. This was done by strat- agem, (and, by-the-by, the Indians are not slow at it.) As some of them had to return from that place, and were preparing for the journey, one of the party come to me and asked the loan of my cooking vessel. I very readily loaned it to him, not suspecting any design; but finding him rather tardy, I made application for it : he gave me to understand that he was not done with it; and being com- pelled to march immediately, I had to leave it behind. We sometimes had pickeled pork, which I generally eat raw. The people in that country raised peas, which they mowed ATHBllTON's NARRATIVE. 116 we and put away vines and all together for their cattle. We would, when lodging in barns and stables, make beds of these, and shell out and eat tho peas, and also take some along with us to eat by the way. I shall not attempt to notice all the partic- ulars of this painful march, from the Thames to York, and from York lo Kingston. It was almost an uninterrupted scene of suffering from the beginning to the end. The officer of the guard seemed unwilling to show any kindness himself, or that any one else should show us any. The remembrance of these things, though twenty six years have rolled between, produces a kind of horror in my soul even at this hour. Here is the wav that a company of ragged, naked, and starved, Kentucky boys were driven through the coun- try to be gazed upon and laughed at by the inhabitants of the villages and towns through which we passed. When we reached York, we were closely confined in jail until another guard was ap- pointed to take us on to Kingston. This was one of the most filthy prise ns that I ever saw. Here they had a difliculty in obtaining a new guard: the one which brought us to this place from the river Thames consisted chief" 116 AtIlfiRTON*S NARRAT1V£. Jy of Indians, and as they were not willing to proceed any farther, the officer had to look for some of the most vigilant soldiers to take their place. We found all along that they were not willing to risk us with a guard of British soldiers until we arrived at this point, when they supposed there would be less dan* ger of an escape. We tarried several days at York, and then took the road to Kingston; and the farther we went the worse the travelling became, the weather colder, and our clothing more ragged, &c. I must not omit to mention a widow lady who resided between York and Kingston* She took all the prisoners into her house, treated them kindly, supplied all their wants, and in every respect showed a kind and feel- ing heart. If I ever knew her name, I have forgotten it: I should like to record it here. When we came to Kingston we were again put in a filthy jail. It was now about the first of 'November, and we were allowed ve- ry little fire, and our clothing so thin, that we had to shiver it out the best way we could. Our spirits remained unsubdued, and we felt cordially to despise that tyranny which heap- ed suffering upon us. We rejoiced that it atherton's narrative. ir was in defence of dear liberty that these af- flictions had fallen upon us ; and we hoped by some means soon to enjoy our liberty agam. The British troops at this place were in re- gular drilling. The infantry and artillery were daily employed in firing at targets. My attention was specially drawn to their man- ner of shooting at a target, made of an emp- ty barrel placed out in the lake. This was done that they might, with the greater cer- tainty, fire upon a vessel as it approached the town. We supposed that they were in expectation of an attack from the Yankee fleet upon lake Ontario. From Kingston we started to Montreal in open boats; if possible this was yet worse than travelling by land, for we could take no exercise to keep our- selves warm. The rains that fell upon us now, appeared as cold as during any part of winter in Kentucky, and we were still in our thin clothing. The boat was scarcely large enough to contain the seventeen prisoners, and the guard; and not high enough for us to stand up; so we had to sit down on the bottom of the boat, and endure the cold from morning until night. I think we slept but once in a house between Kingston and Mon- 118 atherton's narrative. ilH m *M \M *«' treal, and that was the upper room of an un- finished court house, where we had a small stove, and where we dried our few rags of clothing. At length we came in sight of Montreal; they landed us above the town that they might march us through the city, to be seen as a rare curiosity. Word had reached the town before us, that a number of Kentucky prisoners were to pass through that day; and it appeared that the whole city had collected into that street to see the great sight. The windows and doors were full of ladies, manifesting great eagerness to see Kentuckians. The reader may per- haps imagine my feelings at this time, for I shall not attempt to describe them. We were now taken to jail as usual, where we were furnished with a good room, and for the first time since we left Detroit our situation was somewhat comfortable. I think we remained here near' two weeks. Our old rags of clothes, which were given us by the British soldiers, proved rather an annoyance to us, as the jail was warm and the vermin began to multiply in great numbers. We had no change of raiment, consequently we had no washing done; thus we spent the time at Montreal. atherton's narrative. 119 As before remarked, the vermin became very* annoying — and having no possible chance of avoiding them, I fell upon the plan of turning my clothes every morning, so as to keep them travelling. In order to form an adequate idea of these tormenters of the human family, you must be shut up in a hot, filthy prison, with a num- ber of prisoners clothed in filthy rags, and yourself as bad as any of them, with thous- ands and millions of these bosom friends crawling over you. If that would not make an impression, I dont know what would. A right regular built Yankee, who had been but recently taken upon the lines not far from Montreal, was brought into the pris- on a few days previous to our leaving for Quebec. He was discovered, shortly after his arrival, to pick one of those troublers of our peace from his white shirt, and very de- liberately lay him down on a bench, after which, taking a small chip between his finger and thumb, succeeded in dispatching him. This manouvre afforded some sport for some of us who had learned, by things we had suf- fered, not to take it quite so tedious. He was told that he would soon learn to kill them without a chip. ■V!>- '■ I % i 120 atherton's narrative. At this place we were told by the British that we were eating Yankee beef — that most of their supplies came from the States. As it is not my business, I will forbear censuring; and will content myself with barely stating facts. These things occur very frequently all along the line between Canada and the Uni- ted States in time of war; and men who profess great patriotism are sometimes found to be engaged in it. Such patriotism as this would scarcely be found in Kentucky. We left for Quebec in a steam boat, the first built on the St. Lawrence, and arrived there in about twenty four hours. The jail here was less comfortable than the one at Montreal. We were literally in rags, and remained so for many weeks; we had an agent whose duty it was to see that we were provided for, but if my memory serves me, he did not so much as visit the prison for nearly three weeks, and then we were treat- ed by him like so many slaves. After so long a time, Gardner, the agent, furnished each of us with a suit of coarse clothing. By this time the weather had be- come excessively cold, and we were removed to the barracks until a prison could be pre- pared for us upon Cape Diamond, where we ATHERTON*S NARRATIVE. 121 ^principally spent the time whilst we remain- ed at Quebec. After we removed to cape Diamond our number was greatly increased. Only seven- teen Kentuckians came down together from Detroit ; but there were many others taken at different times and places; some sailors, but mostly they were regular soldiers. These had been confined in other parts of the jail, and now, when collected together, we num- bered say ninety, all put into one house to- gether. Here we had a small yard where we could take some exercise; this was a great privilege to men who had been so long in close confinement. We were closely locked up at night, and generally under a strict guard. The windows were strongly grated, and we had only light from one side. Our provisions were scanty and bad ; I suf- fered more from hunger in Quebec than dur- ing any time of my long imprisonment. It was not because they had no provisions, but be- cause they chose to starve us. When we were in Montreal they tauntingly told us that we were eating Yankee beef — giving us to un- derstand that they were furnished with pro- visions from the United States. This scanti- ness of supply continued through the winter, 11 ] tr fj Jl<* i m ii 122 athbrton's narrative. ;,6>^*- and we were under the necessity of enduring our sufferings as we could. We were told that British prisoners in the United States fared worse than we did. Our wood was birch, and it served a double purpose; for we burned the wood, and made tea of the bark — this was all the tea or coffee which we drank in the city of Quebec. The agent allowed us to draw each a few dollars in money ; with this we bought arti- cles from those who visited our prison. We were not very economical with our money ; it lasted but a short time. Some of the prisoners were always forming plans of escape, but could never matui'e them. At one time we were well nigh an elopement, but one proved a traitor, and informed the British officer of the design. The traitor had been in the regular service, and was taken a prisoner somewhere between Canada and the United States. Some offers were made to him, and he meanly enlisted as a British sol- dier, and divulged every thing which he supposed would make our condition more miserable. He told of the contemplated es- cape, and who were the most active as the leaders. On the next day the keeper of the prison came up, and upon examination find- athbrton's narrative. 123 ing that the account was true, and ascertain- ing who had cut the holes, he sent the poor fellows to the dungeon, where they were doomed to remain for two weeks upon half rations. After this pennance they were per- mitted to return to their former place. This broke up all designs of escape, as we were closely watched during the remainder of our stay. After the fellow above named enlisted, strong efforts were made to induce others to follow his example. In order to this, they sent one of the officers who had command of the guard that brought us from York to Kingston, supposing that because we were acquainted with him, he would therefore have more influence with us. He was, however, the last man that should have been sent ; we knew him to be sure, but we knew him to be a hard hearted tyrant, who had starved and drove us nearly to death. We were displeas- ed at seeing him come into the prison, and no sooner had he made known his errand, than we gave him to understand flatly and plainly that deserters were not to be found among us. We expressed our detestation at the conduct of the one who had turned tory and traitor, and told him if there was no other ■.ti ^ ,»•«, l.iiS ;l i« m^:, 124 ATHERTON*S NARRATIVE. way of a release from prison, that we would greatly prefer to lie in the fort until we were starved and perished to death. We more- over gave him to understand that we would not be insulted in that manner, and that he would do well to leave the fort — and some of the boys went so far as to take their tin pans, and beating upon them with their spoons, actually drummed him out of the prison. By this experiment they were fully satisfied that it was a most fruitless business to try to in- duce us to leave our happy government and join theirs. It was often reported that we would be sent to Dartmoor prison, in Eng- land, and there kept as hostages, until the differences between the two governments should be adjusted. We sometimes thought perhaps it might be so, but we scarcely be- lieved any thing which they told us; their ob- ject no doubt was to alarm, with the fear of crossing the Atlantic, that they might the more easily pursuade us to desert. Although this thing bore a very gloomy aspect, and was often a subject of serious conversation among us, yet we were determined, and strengthened each other in the purpose, not to desert, but to endure the worst, and ba true to our country. ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. 125 About this time we learned that Tecum- seh, the great Indian warrior, had fallen in the battle at Moravian town. His familv was at this time in Quebec ; they, in com- pany with some other Indians, came to see us, and manifested great curiosity in taking a good look at Kentuckians — considered by some the rarest beings upon the earth. Often numbers of people came to the pris- on to see us — one man, after looking at us for a length of time, manifested great disap- pointment, and said, " Why, they look just like other people." Jt seemed from this that an idea prevailed that we were wild men, or an order of beings that scarcely belonged to this earth. During the time that we remained here Colonel Lewis and Major Madison visited us. Of the latter, the Vice President of the Uni- ted States lately said in the Senate, that he was a man "of rare patriotism — the most be- loved of all the public men of his State — the best among the best — *lhe bravest of the brave' — who died with never fading laurels upon his brow." They were accompanied by one or two British officers. After they had duly examined into our situation, Colo- nel Lewis encouraged us to bear our priva- 11* rtfimm !', J:, *' 7 ^i !;&:" i'*«s 126 atherton's warratjve. lions and sufferings in the spirit of true sol- diers — saying "that it belonged to the soil of Kentucky to be firm." While this exhorta- tion of the Colonel was received by us with great approbation, it evidently was received with indignation by the British officers. This made no manner of difference with Colonel Lewis, who proceeded to make such remarks^ and gave us such advice, as he believed were for our comfort. I thought that the British were inclined to press their rigid military rules upon Kentuckians with more rigor than upon others. They rarely spoke to us, and when they did it was in a manner so haughty that we only felt the more indignant and hos- tile toward them. We would not conform to those terms of respect which they exacted from their own soldiers. Our feelings, and callings in life had been so very different from those of British soldiers, that we felt as if we lived in, and breathed, a different air. Toward, the latter part of the winter we were, after much entreatv from Lewis and Madison, permitted to write to our friends. Our letters were carefully read by the oflli- cers, and every word rigidly examined. I now wrote to my friends, and this was the first certain information that they received ef ATHBRTON^S NARRATIVE. 127 my having survived the battles and dangers which we had passed through, although I had now been away from honne about eigh- teen months. Notices had been in the pub- lic prints, written by Hunt, of Detroit, that prisoners had been carried on towards Quebec — but he had no further knowledge of us, or what would be our fate. Perhaps it was better that we were not permitted to give a history of our sufferings ; it would only have more deeply afflicted our friends, and added nothing to our relief. I wish here to record, that the news of our unsuccessful attempt to escape reached, by some means, the ears of Colonel Lewis and Major Madison, and they being desirous to obtain the particulars, requested that two of our number might be allowed to visi*, their quarters, which were not far off. Their re- quest was granted, and William McMillan and myself were selected to visit them. We were conducted by a guard, and very closely watched and listened to. We told them of our attempt and defeat. They gave it as their opinion that we could not make a suc- cessful escape during the winter season, and that we ought not to attempt it. They told us of the great difficulty we would meet io -}■ A.' \4'.>^ ■ < V ,t •■i. * ^ I*)'-! '^' 1 m IMi 128 atiIbrton's narrative. travelling through the snow in that country, also in crossing the river St. Lawrence, even if we could, undiscovered, pass the guards. However, in case we should make the at- tempt, they gave us some directions touching the route that we should take if we succeed- ed in clearing the sentinels and crossing the river. While writing this, I am reminded of an attempt made by some prisoners to escape about the time that we came to Quebec. They cut the bars out of the prison windows of the second story of the house, and let themselves down by means of their blankets. They were successful in passing the sentinels, and crossing the river, and prospered all the way until they came near the American lines. Now, thinking that they were out of the reach of danger, they halted to take rest and refreshment, and feeling like birds let out of a cage, they felt that they might safely have a little spree; but just as they were in the midst of their frolic, the British pursuers came suddenly upon them, and took them all by surprise. They were not prepared to de- fend themselves, and had no opportunity to fly; therefore they had quietly to go back to Quebec, and to prison, where they suffered ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. 129 the deep mortification of a failure, and the renewed weight of British oppression. Some time before we heard the good news of a general exchange of prisoners, I had a violent attack of billious fever. I laid sever- al days in the prison before 1 suffered the old turnkey to know my situation. When it was communicated to him, he sent an old man to bleed me and to give me some physic, which gave me no relief; I was therefore re- moved about a mile from town, to the hospi- tal, where they bled and physiced me enough. I do not recollect how long I remained at the hospital, but I remember that I was there when it was announced that all prisoners were to be exchanged, and that all who were able to go were to be sent away immediately. This was better to me than all the medicine in Canada. The hope of seeing my country and my home, rushed in upon my mind with refreshing power. I told the Doctor that I co'Jd not stay any longer in the hospital — that I must start if I died on the way. At first he opposed my going ; seeing my resolu- tion, at length he consented. The idea of be- ing kept behind was like death to me sure enough. For some days before this news reached us I had been slowly recovering, but 130 atiierton's narrative. was yet barely able to walk when I left the hospital to return to the prison, where I found the boys making preparations to leave for the United States. We were to ascend the St. Lawrence in a vessel belonging to the British. It was in the month of May when we left this gloomy prison, where we had spent a miserable winter and spring. The recollection of these times are horrible to my mind until this hour. I am sorry that I ever fell into British hands. It appears that the British officers were perfectly destitute of hu- man feelings, so far as we were concerned. I have no means of knowing generally their characters, and I surely have no wish to de- fame them generally; I speak only of those iato whose hands I fell, and from whom I re- ceived such little kindness. May had not brought warm weather in that country ; heaps of drifted snow were to be seen in the mountains north of Quebec; and the north-western winds were keen and chilling, especially to me in my feeble state. After we boarded our little vessel, we re- mained several days, I know not what for, in an uncomfortable situation ; with but lit- tle fire, and exposed to the incessantly blow- ing winds. This increased again the disease ATHBRTON'8 NARRATIVE. 131 under which I had been laboring, so that I now had chill and fever every day. I was barely able to walk, and more than one thou- sand miles from home, without money, clothes, or friends that were able to help ; yet my spirit did not quail for a moment, — 1 hoped somehow to get through. At length we were put into another vessel, and set sail up the St. Lawrence. Thus we contin- ued until we came to the mouth of the river Sorrell, which connects lake Champlain with the St. Lawrence. We ascended this river for a considerable distance in the same ves- sel, when we were placed in open boats and carried across the line. It was said, with what truth I pretend not to say, that some of the British soldiers who guarded us made a good use of this opportunity and deserted, and left a land of oppression for a land of lib- erty and plenty. We were set on the shore fourteen miles below Plattsburg, and then left to take care of ourselves, having neither money nor food, and almost naked, and some of us sick. We however, used to trials, went forward to Plattsburg — which I reached with the ut- most difficulty, shaking one part of the day, and burning with fever the other. We had I > -I' WA 132 ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. all been so long in confinement that we trav- elled slowly, and this enabled me to keep up until we arrived at a h.rge encampment of the American army, a short distance above Plattsburg on the lake. ^ Our situation was communicated to the General, who promised to make provision for us, by giving us written passports, and author- izing us to draw rations on the road wherev- er we could find any belonging to the United States — which was all that we could expect, or all that we asked, as he had no authority to pay us money. We waited a day or two for the fulfilment of this promise, when we renewed our application, telling him our ne- cessities, how long we had been from home, where we had been taken prisoners, our anxiety to pursue our journey — but all to no effect ; we only obtained promises. Having renewed our petitions for a week, we began to despair of success, and thought of seeking help from some other quarter. We were now satisfied that it was the purpose of the commanding oflicer to detain us there, place difliculties in our way of going home, that thereby we might be induced to enlist ; he supposed that we would not certainly under- take such a journey on foot, without money atherton's narrative. 133 or passports. This did alarm one or two of the company, who took the bounty and en- listed for five years. The rest of us now re- solved to make a start towards old Kentucky; but before we left we made one more unsuc- cessful effort tc obtain the necessary papers from the General. By this time a kind and noble hearted young Lieutenant, whose name was Frederick, became interested in our wel- fare, and wrote us a passport to draw upon any supplies belonging to the Government. This answered a good purpose where the keepers were young and ignorant, and did not understand their business ; but our order was often protested. Notwithstanding my fatigue and exposure to the night air, and a chill every day, my strencrth had much increased, yet I feared the fatigues of the long journey before us; but to my astonishment I had the last chill on the evening before we left the encampment — I never had another On a beautiful morning, about the first of June, 1814, we left the American army near Plattsburg, turning our faces towards home with light hearts and little money. I had but twelve and a half cents, and I believe I was nearly as wealthy as anv of the company. 12 mm 134 atherton's narrative. And now I feel utterly at a loss to describe my feelings. Until now we did not feel en- tirely free; though in the American camp, we were under sentinels and military res- traint. We had been for so long a time in prison, and suffering, that we seemed to have reached a new world almost. We little thought of the journey that was before us, but tr!ked cheerfully of our situation, as we passed many beautiful farms in high promise, sijjated upon the sides of the lake. Above all, we felt hearts of sincere gratitude to a kind Providence, who had delivered us out of the hands of wild and ferocious savages, and hard hearted tyrants, and had again brought our feet to stand upon the soil of freedom. We made our way up the lake on the right bank until we came to the ferry, which we found some difficulty in crossing, because we had no money to pay our passage. We told the keeper the true story of our errand — where we had been, and where we were go- ing : after some hesitancy he took us all over without any pay. We then took the road leading to the head of lake Champlain; some of the people along this road were kind, but others looked upon us with suspicion. Our appearance was very shabby indeed — the atiierton's narrative. 135 coarse clothes which we received in Quebec, the winter past, were all in rags and dirt, and having no possible opportunity of get- ting a new supply, we were compelled to ap- pear before all in our way in this garb. Our rags may have been an advantage to us, as they attracted notice, and curiosity would induce many to ask us questions, and thus we would have an opportunity of telling our his- tory, and so gain something to sustain us up- on our journey. This afforded us a good op- portunity of ascertaining the dispositions of men. Many were suitably affected with our situation, and offered relief; but other cold blooded animals had no compassion — they lived within and for themselves — and we found some so destitu# of all sense of res- pect as even to insult us. After traveUing together a short distance, we began to find that it would be with diffi- culty that we could travel through that coun- try without money. We consulted together what way would be the best for us to take, and concluded to separate, as beggars had better go in small companies. When we parted, it was with the understanding that we would try to meet again at Oleann Point, on the Alleghany river. Thus we bid >.\A i't«. r-^t* , 136 ATHERTON'S NARRATIVE. each other farewell, and broke off into com- panies of four. The company to which I be- longed took the road leading from the head of the lake to Utica, in the State of New York. This road was mostly turn piked,, which made the travelling worse for us, as we were nearly barefooted, and our feet soon became sore, so that our stages were short. It would be impossible for me to re- late the particulars of this journey through the State of New York; but one thing truth compels me to state, and that is, we suffered more from hunger while passing through this State than in all the rest of the wav from Quebec to Kentucky. We found the people generally either too proud ( r too stingy to give us food, or to treat utfike human beings. In passing through the little towns and villages our appearance w^ould immediately attract attention, and in a few minutes the people would gather around us in great numbers;, they would ask us a number of questions, which we would fully answer, though they often suspected us for being u^.: — *ers. We occasionally found in these companies, per- sons who were touched by our appearance and story, so they would turn out and raise us a few shillings to help us on our journey.. athkrton's narrative. 137 The money thus raised we considered as common property, to be used for the benefit of all. We made it last as long as possible, by always purchasing the cheapest articles of food, and never spending any unnece a- rily. When we arrived at Utica we found a re- cruiting party there ; and here I picked up a pair of old shoes which had been thrown away by the soldiers ; these enabled me to travel on the turnpike with more ease and speed. We found but few who were willing either to feed or lodge us without pay, though we only asked to lie upon the jfloor. Some absolutely refused to give us any shelter at all. I will here relate a case, and if I knew the name of the individual I would record it as a warning to any one who might be tempt- ed to treat any poor sufferer in like manner. After travelling hard all the day, we called at a house and asked the man the favor to stay and lie upon the floor until morning, at the same time informing him that we had been prisoners for some lime, and that we were on our way to Kentucky, our native State, and that we would not ask him for any thing else. He told us pointedly that we Qould not sleep in his house. We then asked. 12* h 138 ATHERTON^S NARRATIVE. to sleep in the shop,{he was a wagon makerj) this he also refused ; we then told him th t we were much fatigued, and would be glad to have permission to lie down in his barn* He then refused in the most positive manner, telling us that there was a tavern about a mile ahead, and as they had the profit of travellers, they should have the trouble also^ We left him to his conscience, and walked on toward the tavern, feeling that we were strangers indeed in a strange land, driven from door to door, fatigued and hungry, without one cent in our pockets, knowing not where we should find shelter; and re- turning too from fighting the battles of the country we were now passing through so poorly requited. At length we came to the tavern, and by stating our misfortunes we succeeded in gaining permission to sleep on the floor. Soon after our arrival supper was announced, but nothing was said to us. We laid down on the floor of the bar room hun- gry, tired and sleepy. If we had received such treatment in an enemy's country, we would not have been surprised, but we had been out fighting for the liberties of this very people — this made our sufferings the more acute. We made an early start next* atiierton's narrative. 13:9 morning, supposing that the chance for break- fast would be as gloomy as that of the supper had been. We determined to go forward as far as possible, hoping soon to find another kind of people, who would help us. When we applied in the evening for per- mission to lie in the barn, and were refused, there was a gentleman present who overtook us a day or two afterwards, and reminded us of the treatment, and that he was present; he gave each of us some money — he said that he had no money when he first saw us. Not far from this hard place, we met a man of quite a different feeling. Near sun- set we were passing his house, when he call'- ed to us and asked if we had anv monev ; we told him we had none: "Well, you had better stop here with me and stay all night, for the man who keeps the next house is a tory, and will not permit you to stay with- out money." I need hardly say that we ac- ceeded to his proposition. We were treated with kindness aad hospitality, and for once fared well. Th^s was a set-off to some for- mer cases. After we had passed through the thickly settled parts of New York, we came to the Genoessee country, which was at that tim.e ■ I,, ■ f; fit; J- * ! fl ' ■ ■ 1 rite'-:: ::^ 140 ATHERTO'l's NARRATIVE. but thinly inhabited. We were now told that we would find serious difficulties in passing on without money; on the day that we en- tered what was called the wilderness we were entirely destitute, and had very serious fears of suffering more than we had yet been called to endure; but as our fears were rising to the highest pitch, we unexpectedly met a young officer belonging to the United States service ; he inquired into our history careful- ly, and becoming satisfied with the account which we gave him of our capture and suf- ferings, he kindly, gave us one dollar a piece, which was sufficient, with rigid economy, to carry us through the most dreaded part of the wilderness. It may appear to the reader that I have given a very cheerless and rigid account of the people along the road that we traveled through the State of- New York; I am cer- tain of the truth of the history, for a man starving knows when he receives any thing to eat, and also when he is refused. I am as certain of this part of the history, as that I was in the battle, and wounded at the river Raisin. Whether we fell upon the only nig- gardly people that lived in that part of the country, or whether, the people were mostly. atherton's narrative. 141 tories there, I have no means of determining. It may be asked why I record these things? It may seem harsh to speak of them; it was much harsher to feel them. If people will sin publicly, and drive starving begging sol- diers from their doors with contempt, those soldiers, if they should live to reach home, and should write an account of their trip, will be very»likely to refer to such treatment. If those folks are yet living, a sermon upon ** be careful to entertain strangers,^^ might not be entirely without its good effects upon them. After passing through this wilderness, we began to draw near to Oleann Point, the place where we had agreed to meet again when we parted at the head of lake Cham- plain. One company overtook us on the same day that we arrived at Oleann. Here we had intended to take water, but we could hear of no craft going down the river. Our money was gone, and provisions were scarce and dear, so we could not stay long here. Necessity, the mother of invention, drove us to seek out some way of getting on. We numbered eight persons at this time; I re- member the names of Philip Burns, Patrick Ewing, Simon Kenton, Thomas Bronaugh, '• ■ s\ i.itf* !', '-^ <■ ■ ^ rjl 142 atherton's narrative. William McMillan and Thomas Whitlington^ At length we concluded to build a raft of slabs that we found lodged against a bridge; so we all went to work ; having walked so far, our wind was pretty good, and got our raft completed by sunset — on Sunday too. We then procured some bread, and set sail down the river a little before dark, not know- ing what was before us, whether there were dangerous passes, or falls in the river — such was our destitute situation, that we were compelled to go on. Our provisions were nearly out, and Indians chiefly inhabit- ed the country along the river down towards Pittsburg. During the night we had some difficulty in passing the drift at the short bends that are in the Alleghany, but went on tolerably well until next morning about breakfast lime. I had laid myself down upon the dry part of the raft and fallen asleep, not having slept any during the night, as there was not room for more than two or three to lie down at once. We now came in contact with a driftwood, and the current was so strong that the raft was taken under almost instantly — we scrambled up on the drift, and after some difficulty got ashore. The raft came out below, and went on ; and thea we, atherton's Narrative. 143 were left on foot again, among the Indians called Corn Planters. Fortunately for us, we had taken a Yankee passenger aboard our raft, who had some money with him, with which we bought a canoe from an Indian in which we came down the river until we reached Pittsburg. Before we reached Pitts- burg we met a recruiting party at the mouth of French creek ; the officer was very kind — he furnished us with a room to sleep in — gave us flour and whiskey. His object was to enlist some of us ; we did not tell him that we would not enlist; we sat up however and baked bread enough whilst the others were asleep to last us to Pittsburg ; and before the oflicer was out of his bed in the morning, we were paddling on towards home. When we arrived at Pittsburg, we sold the canoe for five dollars, and purchased bread, and almost immediately took passage on a salt boat bound for Kanawha. But whilst we were in Pittsburg we there saw the Brit* ish soldiers that guarded us ut Detroit prison — they had been taken at the battle of the Thames — they were at liberty to go to any part of the town, and to work for themselves. We took this opportunity to remind them of the difference between their treatment of us, fjW ^ ?ii^1 til. '<>**' uh' lit 1,,,.. (j» ^,. 144 ATinERTON's NARRATIVE. and our treatment toward them ; they were compelled to acknowledge the truth, and praised our officers very highly. We paid our passage upon the salt boat, by working at the oars, all except myself, who was the cook for the company. When we floated down as far as Kanawha we were there set upon the shore, and were once more compelled to look about for the means of con- tinning our journey. After we had been there a few hours we saw a raft of pine plank floating down the river ; we hailed the own- er, asked for a passage, and were taken aboard. On this raft I floated down to Mays- ville, where, thanks to a superintending Providence, I once again set my feet upon Kentucky soil, and breathed the air of my native State. Now I was almost naked; no person, as well as I can remember, had of- fered me a single article of clothing since I left Quebec. I had exchanged my pantaloons, given to me in prison, for an old pair which I found on the boat, thrown away as useless by some of the boatmen; my shirt had, by slow degrees, entirely disappeared ; I had some where picked up an old coat that had been the property of some regular soldier— atherton's narrative. 145 these two articles constituted my wardrobe, entire — I was barefooted, but had an old hat. My companions had all left me higher up the river, and gone across the country as a nearer way home. When I left the raft and went into the town my situation excited at- tention, and soon all my wants were supplied. Some gave the stuff, and a number of tailors joined, and in a few hours I was clothed, and furnished with money to bear my expenses home. I felt the difference here between warm and cold hearted people. My anxiety was great to pursue my journey, so I as- cended the steep hill that hangs around Maysville, and made my way through Georgetown and i'rankfort, to Shelbyville, at which place I arrived on the 20th day of June, A. D. 1814. Here, at length, after an absence of near- ly two years, during all of which time I had been eocposed to sufferings, daggers and pri- vations, not having slept upon a bed until my return to my native land, I found myself among the friends of my childhood and my own beloved kindred. I had left them, when a mere lad, as a volunteer soldier in the com- pany commanded by Captain Simpson, and I came back to them a man in years, though 13 i •'fir iH '.',' 146 atherton's narrative. feeble in strength and frail in appearance. The meeting indeed was unexpected to them, and none can tell the fullness of joy that reigned in my own heart. A kind and merciful Providence had pre- served and sustained me through all the per- ils with wh^'ch I was surrounded, and unto Him do I give the praise for my safety. Ma- ny years have passed since the occurrences detailed in this narrative took place. I may now almost be classed in the number of old men. My avocations have been those of peace. I have, for nearly twenty years,, as an ordained Minister of the Methodist Epis- copal Church, endeavored to teach the mild doctrines of my blessed master. Yet it may not be without its use to my young country- men to know what their fathors have suffer- ed. I have told them a plain unvarnished tale, which while it may encourage them to be bold in their country's cause, may Iso, ac- quaint them with what they owe to the gen- eration that has just preceded them. W. ATHERTON. atherton's narrativr. 147 NoTU. — On pages 29 and 30 of the fore- going narrative, mention is made of the re- ception, by the suffering volunteers, of a sea- sonable supply of clothes that had been made up and sent to the army by the patriotic la- dies of Kentucky. I have, since the com- mencement of this publication, met with an article that appeared in the Frankfort Com- monwealth (when that paper was under the editorial direction of Orlando Brown, Esq.) entitled " Kentucky Mothers," in which al- lusion is made to the same transaction. I have thought it not irrelevant to append it to this, as it shows, in a striking manner, the deep devotion to country felt by the la- dies of Kentucky, and the extent of the sac- rifices they were prepared to make. Al- though Mr. Brown did not give the name of this noble mother, I have his permission to state that the lady alluded to is the venerable Mrs. Elizabeth Love, who yet resides in Frankfort, beloved by ?kll for her eminent worth, and characterized by high intellectual endowments associated with fervent piety, unaffected charity, and every trait that dig* nifies and adorns the female sex. I^ ATHERTON'S NARKATIVX. • V; ■* r, Ik KENTUCKY MOTHERS. " The deep interest which passing events are giving to the history of the campaigns oi the North- Western Army, naturally sets the memory to work in recalling the incidents? that gave them their peculiar character. The achievments of the volunteers under the gal- lant Harrison, are written in the brightest pages of the records of their country, and must live so long as the human heart thrills at the contemplation of deeds of lofty hero- ism. But Kentucky does not point solely to her brave soldiers, and challenge admiratioa for them. Far, far from it; for to the noWe mothers and daughters of our State belongs a chaplet of unfading laurels. They espoused the cau^'^ of their country with an ardour never surpassed in any land under the sun. Company after company, batallion after ba- tallion, left the State for the scene of war, and although the bloodiest battles were fouffht, and men came home with thinned ranks and wearied frames, and the wail of the widow and the orphan was loud in the lament for the slain, the fire of patriotism burnt the brighter, and the women of Ken- tucky, never faJteriag^ still urged on the men I's* atherton's narrative. 149! to battle. Although we were at that time but a very small boy, well do we remember all that passed under our observation at that stirring period. We remember the letters that were received from the volunteers de- scribing their sufferings from cold and hunger and nakedness, and we remember, too, how the ladies united together for the purpose of sending clothing to the suffering soldiery. They fornied themselves into sewing societies, made hunting shirts, knit socks, purchased blankets and fitted up all kinds of garments that could add to the comfort of the troops. The ladies of the town of Frankfort, alone, sent two wagon loads of clothing to the fron- tier, which arrived most timely, and warmed alike the hearts and bodies of the volunteers, for they reminded them that such wives and mothers and sisters deserved to be defended at every possible hazard. A Spartan mother is said, on presenting a shield to her son, to have told him " to return with it, or upon it,^^ It is recorded of anoth- er, that when her son complained of the shortness of his sword, she bade him " take one step nearer his enemy and he would find it long enough." And for such sayings as these, the Spartan women have ever since been renowned in history. We remember an incident that occurred in our own pres- ence during the last war, that proves that a Kentucky mother was fully equal in courage. 13* #( >\ 150 ATHERTON'S WARRilTlTE. .!•»■ ar |H and love of country to any of those whose fame has survived for so many ages. We beg leave to relate it, and will do so in as few words as possible. Soon after the battle of the river Raisin, where the Captain of the Frankfort compa- ny (Pascal Hickman,) had been barbarously massacred in the officers' house after the sur- sender, Lieutenant Peter Dudlev retu' led to Frankfort for the purpose of raising another coilnpany. The preceding and recent events of the campaigns had demonstrated to all, that war was, in reality, a trade of blood, and the badges of mourning, worn by male and female, evidenced that here its most dire calamitv had been felt. He who would vol- unteer now, knew that he embarked in a haz- ardous enterprise. On the occasion alluded to, there was a public gathering of the peo- ple. The young Lieutenant, with a drummer and fifer, commenced his march through the crowd, proclaiming his purpose of raising an- other company, and requesting all who were willing to go with him, to fall in the ranks. In a lew moments he was at the head of a respectable number of young men; and, as he marched around, others were continually dropping in. There was, in the crowd of spectators, a lad of fifteen years of age; a pale stripling of a boy, the son of a widow, whose dwelling was hard-by the parade ground. He had looked on with a burning heart, and filled with the passion of patriot- ATHERTON*S NARRATIVE. 151 ism, until he could refrain no longer, and, as the volunteers passed again, he leaped into the ranks with the resolve to be a soldier. ** : ou are a brave boy," exclaimed the Cap- tain, "and I will take care of you;" and a feeling of admiration ran through the crowd. In a little time, the news was borne to the widow, that her son was marching with the volunteers. It struck a chill into her heart, for he was her oldest son. In a few moments she came in breathless haste, and with streaming eves, to the father of the editor of this paper, who was her nearest neighbor, and long tried friend. "Mr. Brown," said she, "James has joined the volunteers! the foolish boy does not know what he is about. I want you to make haste and get him out of the ranks. He is too young — he is weak and sickly. Mr. Brown, he will die on the march. If he does not die on the march he will be killed by the enemy, for he is too small to take care of himself. If he escapes the enemy he will die of the fever. Oh, my friend, go and take him away." After a few moments, she commenced again — "I do not know what has got into the boy — I cannot conceive why he wants to go to the army — he could do no- thing, he is able to do nothing." Again she paused; and at last rising from her seat, with her eyes flashing fire, she exclaimed — "But I WOULD DESPISE HIM, IF HE DID NOT WANT TO go!" That noble thought changed the current of her reflections, and of her grief— III * i •'!> Is'* ;'i. il' m y 152 atherton's narrative. she went home, prepared with her own hands the plain uniform of that day for her son, and sen,t him forth with a mother's blessing. The lad went on with the troops, bore all the toils oj the march, was in the battle at Fort Meigs, and fought as bravely and efficiently as the boldest man in the company. The widow's son again came home in safety. Her patriotism has not been unrewarded. On yesterday I saw that son bending over the sick bed of the aged mother. He is the only surviving child of a numerous family, and has been spared as the stay and prop of her declining years. Is it any wonder that the Kentuckians are brave and chivalric? Were they otherwise, they wop'i :' e recreant to the land of their birth, and a reproach to their mothers' milk." Erratum, — Foi Captain Watson , read Gaptain Matson, wherever it occurs.. ^ 3^. 5088 #- own hands jr son, and blessing, ore all the tie at Fort efficiently my. The ifety. Her rded. On over the is the only mily, and •op of her ckians are otherwise, id of their ers' milk." son, read rs.. DJu "f/- '\