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Digital file copyright by Cornell University
Library 1994.THE LIFE
AND ADVENTURES OF
MATTHEW BUNNTHE RAREST STORY OF ADVENTURE
IN THE REGION OF THE NIAGARA
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN
INTRODUCTION
On an October day in the year 1826 an old man passed along the
main street of East Aurora, Upper Village, until he came to the
small building which was the first and, then, the only law office in
town. Entering, he made himself known to the young man who
there awaited clients. This youth was in his twenty-seventh year.
He had taught a district school in Buffalo; had served as clerk in
the office of Asa Rice and Joseph Clary, early attorneys of this city;
and after a year or so devoted to the combined occupations of teach-
ing the village urchins how to spell, of clerical work with broom as
well as with pen, and of some musing over Blackstone—an excellent
combination—had been admitted to practice law. As he himself has
recorded, “not having sufficient confidence to enter into competition
with the older members of the Bar” in Buffalo, he withdrew to East
Aurora and hung out his sign; with what success the world after-
ward came to know, for his name was Millard Fillmore.
His visitor, on this October day of 1826, was a man well past
middle years, of an appearance which told of a life of hardship and
exposure. His name was Matthew Bunn, and by his own account he
had led a life of extraordinary adventure and hazard. Bom in
Brookfield, Mass., about 1772, he had enlisted at Providence in 1791
on an expedition into the Western country; had been taken captive
by the Indians, near the Ohio, and in their hands had experienced
great suffering. Escaping from the Indians, he fell into the scarcely
less savage hands of George Girty, but ultimately escaped to Detroit,
which British post he reached in April, 1793. For “damning King
George and all the Royal Family,” which one must admit was (under
the circumstances) an indiscretion, the unhappy Matthew was ar-
rested and after a term of detention in prison was sent to Fort
379380	NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
NARRATIVE
OF THE
MTE AND ADVENTURES
OF
(OP PROVIDENCE, R. I.)
IN AN EXPEDITION AGAINST
THE
North-Western Indians,
IN THE YEARS 1791, ?, 3, 4 & 5.
[7th edition, revised—4000 copies.]
BATAVIA-
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY ADAMS AND THORP*
" im." *
[bunn’s “narrative’'; fac-simile of title-page, edition of 1828.]NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
381
Niagara, then, like Detroit, in British hands. Here, in order to avoid
being shipped off to Quebec, he enlisted (he says) “under Captain
Shanks, in the Queen’s Rangers, on the 4th of June, 1794.” There-
upon began a new series of adventures, of hardships and flights.
He, with companions, deserted; they were captured, and as they
were being taken back to headquarters, by boat on Lake Ontario,
they rose against their captors and attempted to seize the boat. The
effort failed miserably; subdued, wounded and bound, they were
taken back, kept in irons for fifteen days, then sent to Niagara for
trial. Bunn was sentenced to receive a thousand lashes. Five hun-
dred blows he did receive, in full view of the paraded regiment, till
the doctor interfered, saying he could not live through more whip-
ping. Then followed some painful weeks of slow recovery for
Matthew Bunn; and after he was well and had returned to duty,
he deserted again, and plunged into a new series of adventures in
the Niagara region, which finally brought him to Fort Erie, whence
he crossed the river and took his way to the Genesee and thence
eastward; returning—to Rehoboth, Mass.—in October, 1795.
More or less of this Matthew Bunn related to Millard Fillmore,
in the little East Aurora law office. Much more of it he had, years
before, written out, and published. The story of his adventures
had seen several editions. So extraordinary was the narrative in
some respects that it is not unlikely that doubts had been expressed
as to its truth; at any rate Matthew Bunn felt called on, in issuing
a new edition, to affirm the truth of his tale; and to that end he had
called on Millard Fillmore, a duly empowered “Commissioner &c.
for Erie County,” before whom, on this 30th day of October, 1826,
Bunn made sworn affidavit that his narrative was true.
Why he sought out the unknown youthful attorney in East
Aurora, when his book was to be printed in Batavia, cannot now be
told; nor indeed anything of his after life. His story appears to
have been first printed at Providence in 1796. It was reprinted at
Litchfield, Conn., in the same year. There is also an edition dated
1797, no place of publication being given. The next edition known
to the present editor was printed in Batavia, by B. Blodgett, in 1826.
Two years later Adams & Thorp of Batavia again published it. If,
as the title-page asserts, that was the 7th edition, then there are at
least two editions of it unknown to the editor. The title-page of the
1828 edition says—or seems to say—that 4,000 copies were printed.
If that were true, one would expect “The Life and Adventures of
Matthew Bunn” to be the commonest of the early books printed in
Western New York. On the contrary, it is perhaps the rarest. The
only copy of the 1826 edition known to the writer is owned by Mr.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
W. H. Samson of Rochester; the only copy of the 1828 edition
which the editor has been able to learn of is in the Library of Con-
gress at Washington. It is from that copy that the present reprint
is made; the title-page being given in fac-simile, and the spelling and
inordinately long paragraphs given as in the original.
Sabin’s Dictionary gives the title of the 1797 edition as follows:
“Short Narrative of the Life and Sufferings of Matthew Bunn after
his arrival at the British Garrison at Detroit, April 30, 1792, from his
Indian captivity.” The edition of 1828 says he reached Detroit April
30, 1793. The earlier date accords best with the dates of his enlist-
ment and capture in 1791, for there is nothing in the narrative to
indicate that he spent two winters among the Indians. In the revised
edition of 1828, Bunn says he reached Detroit April 30, 1793; en-
listed in the Queen’s Rangers in June, 1794; set out from the Niagara
for the Genesee, April 27, 1795, and reached home the following
October. If we accept the dates as he gives them in the edition of
1828, his captivity among the Indians covered some eighteen months.
A copy of the first edition, 1796, is in the John Carter Brown col-
lection at Providence. The Brinley library contained the Litchfield
edition and that of Batavia, 1828. Sabin’s Dictionary mentions but
two editions, that of 1797 without place of publication, and the Ba-
tavia edition of 1828—wrongly giving one of the publishers as
“Thorf” instead of “Thorp,” an error due to a broken letter or bad
printing. It is hoped that the present republication may bring other
copies to light.
Matthew Bunn was far from the ideal hero. Indeed, at crucial
times and in ticklish places, he shows somewhat of a craven streak.
He nowhere reveals the fine manliness that marks for instance the
character of David Ogden, a boy captive among the Indians on the
Niagara in Revolutionary days. He was very far from being such a
bold spirit as David Ramsay, the slayer of Indians, whose story also
belongs to the Niagara. In its original printed form (it is included
in P. Campbell’s “Travels in the Interior inhabited Parts of North
America, in the years 1791 and 1792,” printed in Edinburgh in 1793)
it vies in rarity with Matthew Bunn’s book. There are numerous
other figures in the very early days of this Niagara and mid-lake
region, of men who were intrepid in quest of adventure, or patient
under the weight of captivity, whose stories are the very embodi-
ment of border romance, the very epitome of the history of their
times, all worthy to be preserved in these Publications. But Mat-
thew Bunn’s narrative, so far as it relates to this immediate region,
stands by itself a chapter of Niagara region history not elsewhere
duplicated.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN
The Author of the following pages will make but a very
short apology for re-publishing the following history of his
adventures. To inform the public of the barbarity and inhu-
manity of the red and white Savages, and amuse the reading
part of community, were amongst the reasons for its publi-
cation.
The author will not withhold from a generous public, as
a further reason, that he hopes some pecuniary aid towards
the support of a numerous family, from the sale of it. The
hardships and sufferings to which he has been subjected,
having broken down his once vigorous constitution.
THE AUTHOR.
Narrative, &c.
My Honored Father lived in Brookfield, Massachu-
setts, and engaged in the American army, in the first year of
the Revolutionary war, at Roxbury, and died the same year,
1779-
Being about the age of nineteen years, I enlisted under
Ensign John Tillinghast, of Providence, for an expedition
against the Indians, in the year 1791. When the period ar-
rived when I must quit my home, orders were received for a
part of the soldiers, viz. 28 in all, to embark on board a vessel
destined to convey us toward the Western country, in which
we went as far as New Brunswick, under the command of
Lieut. Shearman. On our passage to New Brunswick, we
had bad weather, though we arrived here in ten days; we
383884
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
remained there about five days and then being equipped with
our guns and accoutrements, we marched towards Pitts-
burgh. The weather was exceeding hot, which made our
journey very tedious. We arrived at Pittsburgh some time
in August, where Lieut. Shearman resigned and went home,
and Ensign Balch, of Boston, took the command of the de-
tachment, to headquarters. We remained there about three
weeks, when we received orders to go down the Ohio River.
The boats we went down in, were of two-inch plank, of white
oak; the length of them was about forty feet, and about six-
teen wide and they rowed with four oars, and three men at
each oar; and over the top of each boat there was a roof
like the roof of a building, for a defence against the Indians
firing from the shore; though one night we received several
shots from them, but there was no man hurt; and so we
continued our route night and day, until we arrived at Fort
Washington where we joined the main army, which con-
sisted of about two thousand men; and we remained there
about two weeks. Then we received orders to march for the
Miamis, about twenty-five miles, and there made another
halt, and built a fort which is called Fort Hamilton, and the
main army repaired to said fort: but I was ordered another
way on command; first going twenty miles down the Ohio
River, and then entered into another small river, called Big
Miami, that leads to Fort Hamilton. From thence we ad-
vanced about forty miles farther; this command was under
Ensign Cobb, of Taunton, and Sergeant Holley, of Rhode
Island, and consisted of a corporal and twenty-four privates,
which went to guard the boat-load of provisions by water.
This boat drew about eighteen inches water, but the river
being lower than we were aware of, we were obliged to
draw the boat by main strength in places of fifty and an hun-
dred yards at a time, in eight or ten inches of water, which
caused us to be eight days on that passage. On the fifth
day at night, we encamped on the banks of the river, all ex-
cept the boatmen, who said they would sleep under the banks
of the river, by the boats, which they did. We kept the
guard on the bank of said river for fear of the Indians; and
just at daylight one of the guard looked down the banks andNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
385
cried out, there are Indians! He had no sooner spoke than
the Indians fired at the boatmen under the bank of the river-;
and as the men rose up there was a ball struck the bushes
about six inches above their heads; but fortunately there
was no man hurt. We were all immediately alarmed. A
small party went in pursuit of them, and got sight of the
Indians who were on horses, and fired at them; on our firing
at them they dropped their packs, and some skins, and sev-
eral trifling things, which they had stole from the inhabitants
the night before, which we got; one of the balls struck an
Indian on his rump, but his stooping forward on his horse
prevented his being much hurt, but cut his blanket from his
rump to his shoulders; for, after I was taken by the Indians,
I found out that my master was there at that time, though I
never dared to let him know that I was in that party; but he
often told me how nigh one of the Indians came being shot.
The horses they had stolen out of Judge Simmon’s* stable,
about twelve miles below Fort Washington, and they were
pursued so close, and our firing upon them gave them such
a fright, that they went several miles back on the same way
they came, which gave the party a chance to come up with
them, which they did, and pursued them so close through the
swamp, that the inhabitants got their horse again; but the
Indians made their escape and went off.
We moved on our way with our boats, but the water
being so low, we made a very poor hand of getting along
with it, though we went about nine miles that day; and at
night we encamped upon as clear a place as we could find,
for fear of the Indians coming upon us; and there was a
guard of a sergeant, corporal, and nine privates, and two
sentinels stood at some distance from the camp, to keep
watch that no Indians came upon us unknown. But about
ten o’clock in the evening, some Indians came creeping up
* There were not so many “judges” in southwestern Ohio at that day as
to leave any doubt that Bunn’s allusion is to John Cleeves Symmes, the famous
pioneer who in 1788 had shared in selecting the site of the present city of
Cincinnati, and who in 1789 was with the colony that founded North Bend. In
February, 1788, he was appointed one of the judges of the Northwest Territory.
His daughter Anna became the wife of William Henry Harrison, afterwards
President; and his nephew, John Cleeves Symmes, distinguished himself for
bravery in the battle of Niagara and at the sortie from Fort Erie.386	NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
to the fire, but the sentinels fired upon them, which alarmed
the whole party; we immediately brought water from the
river and put out the fire, and every man took to a tree, and
stood in that situation until morning. The Indians kept
creeping around, and we exchanged several shots with them
that night; but it being very dark there was no man hurt;
and when it was daylight, we went into our boats, and
moved on our way, but we had not gone more than half a
mile, when looking back we saw three Indians upon the
shore where we had encamped; being very much fatigued,
we kept on our way and took no notice of them; and on that
day about three o’clock in the afternoon, we arrived at a
small garrison, called Dunlap’s Station, which was about six-
teen miles from the place of our destination, but we were
obliged to leave our boat, by reason of the lowness of the
water.
We remained there about two days, then we went
through the bushes about ten miles, and came to the army
and there we remained until Fort Hamilton was finished,
and then we received orders to march for the Maumee
towns, leaving about forty men to keep the garrison. The
road we went, we had to cut and clear as we traveled, day
by day, which made our journey very tedious, for we could
go but about seven miles a day. We went on our march
until we had got about forty-five miles, and then we built
another fort, called Fort Jefferson; and after we had been
building said fort about three days, I happened to be on the
outside picket guard at night. The next morning there were
three of the guard and myself, not having any duty to do,
obtained liberty of our officers to go half a mile distance a
hunting, being very scant of provisions; and after we had
passed the sentinels, we parted, and agreed to take a small
circle and then to meet upon a plain, and then I went to the
right hand, and coming round a swamp, in a blind foot path,
a little distance from the plain, looking out for game, not
thinking of any danger, on coming into a thicket of brush,
there rose up three Indians, which you may think not a little
surprised me; I looked this way and that way, for a place to
run, but found it impracticable, for there were Indians onNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
387
every side, with their tomahawks over my head, so I saw
that I might as well give up, as to make any resistance, drop-
ping my firelock, and putting out my hand to shake with
them, they shook hands with me, and bid me make haste,
and then they took me through a swamp upon a dry ridge,
and sat down for about an hour, and then went on again,
and traveled until about twelve o’clock, when one of them
gave a most hideous halloo, which made the woods ring
again, and one of the Indians told me, bye and bye, I would
see plenty of Indians, and in about half an hour one of them
gave another halloo, and a quarter of a mile forward, it
seemed as though the woods were alive with Indians, and
directly there came about twenty of them running to meet us,
some with knives, and some with tomahawks, and painted so
that they looked more like so many evil spirits than any
thing else. I thought then my life was short, but they all
came and shook hands with me, except three or four of them,
who looked very surly at me, and two of them took hold of
me, and led me into a miry swamp, and came upon a little
dry knoll in the middle of the swamp, where they had had a
fire about six days watching the army; but no sooner had I
got to the fire than one took off my hat, another my coat,
and another my waistcoat, another my shoes, and one
stripped me of my shirt, and gave me an old one in lieu of it,
which was very dirty; then they brought me an old Indian
who could talk the English language, correctly, and began
to examine me to know what condition the army was in. I
told them as good a story as I could. I saw they were upon
the catch, and I made as few words answer as possible.
After they had examined me as much as they thought proper,
one of them went and brought me some roasted venison and
a piece of bear meet; and after I had eaten as much as I
wanted, though I had not much appetite to eat, they asked
me if I could run fast; I told them I could not; then they
told me I must run or die immediately. Then they packed
up their things and set out towards the Maumee town.*
* Up to the time of his capture, as the student of this period of our history-
will have noted, Bunn was a member of St. Clair’s badly-conducted and ill-
fated expedition. Although he gives no dates, beyond the year 1791, his nar-
rative agrees closely with the records of St. Clair’s march. From Fort Wash-NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
When they first set out from the camp they spread them-
selves every way, so that no man could know which way
they went, and after they had gone about one mile that way,
they came together again; and after they came together
again a second time, they gave me a pack of meat and some
skins, about the weight of a bushel of corn; and then one
went forward, and they sent me next, and the rest of them
followed after, hurrying me on, keeping me on a trot all the
afternoon, until just night, when one of them told me to
run. I told him I could not run, for I was very weary; I
had no sooner spoke than one of them struck me on the
back of my head with the breech of his gun, which knocked
me down to the ground, but I soon recovered and got up
again; then I saw that I must run, though hardly able to
walk; and we went on in this way until dusk of the evening.
Then one of them took me and led me about half a mile from
the swamp, and the rest went with him, and went to making
a fire; but my master took me and sat down about two rods
from the fire, and asked me how I should like to be tied; I
told him I should not like to be tied at all, but he said I must
be tied, or maybe I should run away; then he took a parcel
of cords, and tied me; he first tied my elbows behind me,
and my hands together, forward, and then drew a moccasin
over each hand, and tied them together, down to the waist-
band of my breeches, and then laid me on my back, and tied
a cord round my neck, and another round my legs, and tied
them fast to a tree, and the Indians lay across the cords. I
lay in this condition until morning, and it may well be
ington, now Cincinnati, to Fort Hamilton, now Hamilton, O., is twenty-four
miles; but the detachment of troops Bunn was with, were sent farther down
the Ohio, then advanced up the Great Miami to Dunlap’s Station, twelve miles
from the Ohio; thence they joined the army at Fort Hamilton, which the main
body of troops left Oct. 4th. The advance from this point, forty-five miles,
occupied ten days, to Fort Jefferson, some six miles south of what is now
Greenville, O. Here Bunn left the army; he says, to hunt, but there were
many desertions at this point, and his subsequent record warrants the suspicion
that he had had all he wanted of the expedition under St. Clair. The Maumee
town to which he was first taken was one of the seven Indian villages in the
neighborhood of the junction of the St. Mary’s and the St. Joseph, which form
the Maumee. His subsequent progress towards freedom was down this river.
It is about 140 miles from Ft. Wayne, at the junction of the rivers named, to
the mouth of the Maumee at Toledo.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
389
thought that I underwent a great deal that night, for I was
tied in such a manner that I could not stir hand or foot;
neither had I any thing to cover me but the heavens, for they
never gave me so much as a blanket to put over me, though
it snowed and rained; and in the morning when they untied
me, I was so stiff with the cold, I could not stand, but I rolled
over the ground and rubbed myself awhile, and set by the
fire, till I got so that I could go; then making themselves
ready moved on their way to town again. When they had
traveled about three or four miles, they made a halt for about
half an hour, when one of them came and painted me black,
and painted themselves black likewise; but not knowing the
meaning of being painted in such a manner, I thought it was
done for their own diversion. But they immediately went on
their way until about ten o’clock in the forenoon, then mak-
ing another stand, which had like to have been my last, they
first spotted the trees round for some distance, and then made
blacking of powder and marked the trees in all kinds of dis-
figured creatures. They came round and began to make a
speech, and the Indian that painted me told me to get up.
Now my master had gone in pursuit of a deer, and was not
with the rest of the company. In the meantime, while they
were cutting their capers over me, my master came up and
looked angry at them, and in a great rage, and made a long
speech to them, whch seemed to displease many of them, but
they soon took up their packs and were for marching on.
Now I was to have been tomahawked here, but I knew noth-
ing of it until I was brought to the Maumee town; and my
master coming up at that time, was the means of saving my
life. But we had not gone far from this place, when the In-
dian that was the means of saving my life told me to wash off
the black that was on my face, which he said was no good,
which I immediately did, and then he painted my face red,
which was a token that I was not to die. We went on the re-
mainder of the day, and at night when we encamped, they
bound me as they did before, which I thought was very hard
usage, to travel all day, and at night to be bound in such a
manner. But on the third day, about four o’clock, we arrived
at the Maumee town; but when we had got within about two390
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
miles of said town, the Indians made a halt, and my master
painted my face, one half red, and the other part black, and
tied a large rope round my neck, which hung by my waist;
then he took my pack from me, and one of them that could
speak English told me that bye and bye we should come into
town; and he further said, perhaps when you get into town
some saucy boys will come out and strike you, and if they do,
you will see a long house, and sit down, and they will strike
you no more, which I found to be true; for when we had got
within about half a mile of the town one of them gave a
loud halloo, and it seemed as though the woods were alive
with Indians for a mile round; and immediately the savages
came running to meet us as thick as the squirrels in the
woods, which I thought the most frightful sight I had ever
beheld; but directly we came into the town, and as we passed
the first camp, there came out a young warrior and struck
me on the back of my neck, and I fell to the ground; and
when I recovered on my knees, another gave'me a kick, and
kicked me on my face; and as soon as I got up another
caught me by the hand and said run, run, you devil! and as
I run he struck me over the face and eyes; and when I had
got within an hundred yards of the long house, which the
Indian told me of, the path on both sides was paraded with
Indians, as many as could stand; and as I run through,
every one of them gave me a blow, some with their hand,
and some with a club, and others a kick with the foot, but
every one would have a blow at me; so that when I got to
the house, my face was as bloody as though I had dipped my
head in blood, besides other bruises all over my body. Just
as I got to the door, and was going in, one of them hit me on
the side of my head, and sent me past the corner of the
house; but I scrambled up again and went into the house,
and as soon as I entered the door I met an old grey-headed
chief, and shook hands with him, but I was so grieved with
such usage, that I could not refrain from shedding tears;
which I think almost everyone would have done, but he said,
you must not cry, for if you do, the Indians will kill you;
but I sat down, and immediately they brought a white man
to examine me, which he did very closely, concerning theNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
391
army, and what situation they were in, though I made my
story as short as possible. And then they took him out and
brought in another, to see whether I told a true story or not,
and after they had reexamined me as much as they pleased,
they went and brought me some of their bread, made of
pounded corn, and some homminy; and after I had eaten,
they brought me a little prisoner boy, that had been taken
about two years before on the river called Monongahela,
though he delighted more in the ways of the savages than
in the ways of Christians; he used me worse than any of the
Indians, for he would tell me to do this, that and the other,
and if I did not do it, or made any resistance, the Indians
would threaten to kill me, and he would kick and cuff me
about in such a manner that I hardly dared to say my soul
was my own, although I daily underwent the greatest cru-
elty. Often times there would Indian strangers come to
visit their tawney brethren, and the first salute they would
give, generally, was to knock me down, and frequently, to
repeat their blows; and if I made any resistance, or shewed
resentment, before or after I got up, those savage-like brutes
would repeat the same treatment with terrible additions. I
was forced to submit in silence to that inhuman and barbar-
ous treatment for the space of nearly a week.
It being about the time the Indians were gathering to
meet the American army for battle, there was a number of
Strangers in the vicinity, and my master told me they would
kill me; and he took me from the long council house to his
wife’s camp, although she was gone to the hunting ground
(about fifty miles distant) to winter; and the savages were
gathered together in this town for a general rendezvous, and
remained here, in number fifteen hundred, or thereabouts, for
one week, and then they all marched to meet Gen. St. Clair’s
army*; and after those Indians were gone, my master’s son
took me to their hunting ground where his mother and sev-
eral young Indians were; I had more of a dog’s life than
that of a Christian, for they would not allow me to sleep in
* The Indians engaged St. Clair, Nov. 4, 1791, at the site of the present
town of Fort Recovery, O., at a distance, in a straight line, of some fifty miles
from the head of the Maumee, which was to have been the objective point of
the expedition.392
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
the camp with them; and if I made a hut by myself, the In-
dian boys would pull it away, as if it was only to worry and
fatigue me, and if they thought I was offended at it, they
did it with seemingly more pleasure, and I was obliged to
submit, and through the protection of Divine Providence I
was enabled to support it.
In the beginning of winter, these savages lived only four
or five days in a place, and would move eight or ten miles
further at each time, and kept in continual motion until the
snow was some depth; and by that time they had got 150
miles from the town; at that time I had to build huts for
five families, to cut wood and carry it some distance, because
they would not burn any but dry. I had a very short allow-
ance of provisions, and being almost naked for the want of
clothes, let the weather be wet or dry, hot or cold, I was kept
at hard work of some kind or other, such as dressing deer
skins, or hunting raccoons; and with savage shouts, they
would bid me exert myself or I should die. But the fatigues
day and night were not all that I suffered, for the Indian
boys, when I was asleep, used frequently to put live coals
at my feet, to divert themselves at seeing me start; and as
I had no clothes to myself, I often lay near the fire; one
night a boy drove me far from it, but I told them that I
would not lay back any farther, unless they would give me
some covering, but their cruelty was further exerted in not
giving me anything to eat for two days afterwards; and
sometimes I would get meet and lay it up in the camp, but
the boys would frequently come in and give it to the dogs,
on purpose to insult me, and put me to trouble; one day
there came only one into the camp where I slept, and took
my meet and gave it to the dog, looking me in the face and
laughing; this offended me so much, that I thought I might
as well be tomahawked as to live in torment and vexation,
and immediately I caught up a stick and struck him over the
head, which knocked him down, and almost stunned him; I
was then certain there was no possibility of saving my life,
for he got up very quick and went to my master and told him
of the affair, and it proved well for me that he made addi-
tions to the story. I went to a camp that belonged to anNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
893
Indian trader, and told him what had happened, and desired
him to go and plead me off from being killed; but I had
hardly told my story, before I saw my master coming with
his tomahawk in his hand, who seemed in a great rage, but
the man went and met him, and desired him to hear the
other story, before he went any further, which he complied
with, and after he had heard the truth of the whole matter,
and how he was always tormenting and fatiguing me, turned
back and went his way, and never said anything to me of
the affair afterwards. Soon after this affair happened, my
master went a hunting for several days, and when he came
home, brought several strangers with him, who encamped
but a small distance from us, and at night my master told me
to cut some wood for them; I replied that I was very
hungry, as I had eat nothing that day, and he saw that I did
not move so quick as I ought to have done, he called his son,
and told him to bring his war club; at my hearing this, I
caught hold of my leggings and moccasins, to put them on,
but he came in a great rage and violence, with a war club in
his hand, and struck at me with great force, and would have
killed me, but as I saw the blow coming, I knocked off the
back part of the cabin and escaped, otherwise I should have
had my brains scattered through the camp; but my [I] im-
mediately got my tomahawk, and went about three hundred
yards from the camp, and cut wood enough to burn that
night; and having nothing on my feet or legs, the crust of
the snow being almost hard enough to bear me up, but break-
ing through nearly every step, being knee deep.—Thus when
I had done that small task, (as they called it) my feet and
legs looked as if they had been cut and hacked with sickles
and crosscut saws; the blood pressing forth from each
ghastly wound, from my knees to my toes; and when the
savage-like brutes saw it, they laughed, and said I had got a
beautiful pair of striped leggins on, which would make me
rest well, and so forth.
They used to send me a hunting oftentimes with the
Indian boys, and sometimes we would be gone three or four
days at a time; at night, after I had made a fire for them,
they would make me build another for myself; and one timeNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
395
three days. After that time there were several savages
going upon a scout towards the American frontier, my master
and all that belonged with our family, went with that party,
and left me with my mistress; but there were several other
camps, and some remaining Indians in the neighborhood,
who had orders to chastise me, if they saw me saucy to my
mistress. We remained in that place about a week, and
some American Indians came within ten miles of Us and killed
two or three families of the Delawares, which put our tribe
in such a fright, that they fled to their towns, which were
about one hundred and fifty miles, but the way we went it
was two hundred miles, to keep out of sight of some hostile
savages. The way being very bad that we went, our journey
lasted three weeks, and all that time my mistress never gave
me a spoonful of any thing to eat, only what I could get in
the woods, such as ground nuts, and some other nuts, and
having a pack to carry, weighing sixty or seventy pounds
(that being my daily task), and frequently could get nothing
to eat for two or three days. Sometimes I would get a peck
of ground nuts and my mistress would take them all from
me. One day I borrowed a gun of an Indian, and went a
hunting, to kill something to eat, and by chance I found
eight large black-snakes sunning themselves; I killed and
strung them on a stick, and carried them to the camp. My
mistress looking out, imagined I had some black squirrels,
I came into camp and threw down the snakes at the old
squaw’s feet, which enraged her so much, she threw a toma-
hawk at me; the next thing that came to hand was a brand
of fire, on which I was obliged to leave the camp, and did not
return that day; but when the other savages saw her that
knew of her giving me a roasted snake to eat, some days
before, it pleased them very much, because they said I served
her tit for tat, or paid the old score; in the evening she called
for me, and asked what I brought those snakes for, I made
reply that they were to pay her for the one she gave me to
eat. She, believing that I was even with her, let it drop, and
it soon blew over, though I fared none the worse for provi-
sions afterwards.
When we arrived at the Maumee town, I resolved toNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
make my escape from the savages. We arrived at the town
about the middle of the afternoon; and after I had made a
camp for my mistress, we not encamping on the side of the
river where the town was, I took a walk down the river, to
see if I could find a canoe to make my escape in, which I did,
lying under the bank of the river; and in the edge of the
evening, about nine o'clock, after the old squaw had got
asleep, I got up and crept away from the camp, and then had
to go one quarter of a mile through thick bushes to the river;
it was exceedingly dark, and when I came there the canoe
was gone. I was obliged to make all the speed possible, to
get back to the camp, for fear they would miss me, and I
had but just got to the fire, and laid down, before my mis-
tress called to me to make a fire. On the next morning 4here
came a prisoner by the name of Morris Doyle, from over
the river, and I went out to work and asked him if he did not
mean to try to make his escape from the savages? He said
he did not know the woods, but if he could get any one to
set off with him he would go. I told him that I was resolved
to go that night, and he said, if we could get together he
would go with me, and I asked him how we should get to-
gether ; he said his master had a very nice canoe, and often-
times the Indians would come after they were gone to bed, to
come over the river, and he had to get up and fetch them
across, and he said I must come down when I thought they
were all asleep, and give an Indian halloo, and he would get
up and come over the river with the canoe, and we would
make the best of our way down the river, night and day,
until we arrived at some Christian settlement; but it hap-
pened in my favor—my mistress went over the river that
day, to see her daughter, and when she came back, she said
I must go over the river that night, and stay there, to clear
the land for corn. This pleased me very well, for I should
have a much better chance to escape; and after going over
the river where they had sent me to work, I staid there until
about sunset, and then asked liberty of the Indian to go and
see Morris Doyle;—said I had not seen him for a great
while, and he told me to go, so I went to his camp, which was
about a mile; when I came there he had just got over theNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
397
river from work; I told him that he might make ready for a
start that night, for the sooner we went the better we could
make our escape; for my master was gone out to war, and
all the Indians that belonged to that family, and I did not
think the other savages would follow us so close as my mas-
ter ; so we agreed to go that night, and as soon as it was
dark I went out, as if going home, and lay in the brush until
the savages were all asleep, and then I came in, very still,
and awoke him, and we went down to the River where the
canoe was, and when we came there we found no paddles in
the canoe, and very poor poles, and the water was six or
seven feet deep, and when we had gone down the river about
half a mile, the Indian camps being very thick upon the
banks of the river, they heard us going down, though it was
so dark they could not see us, but there came an Indian down
to the bank of the river, and called out three or four times,
and asked who was there—but we squatted down in our
canoe, and let the current carry us down past them. We had
not gone more than three miles before we were hailed again
by the savages; but we set down in the canoe until we
drifted past the camp, and then we went about four miles
and there came an Indian out of his camp, and came down
to the river with a brand of fire in his hand, and spoke in his
own language, and asked who was there; but we made no
answer, but went on as fast as we could; we went on for an
hour and a half, and we saw some person going down by the
side of us with a brand of fire in his hand; I then told Doyle
that it was not safe to go any further in a canoe, for the In-
dian was going down to head us, we run our canoe ashore,
and took to the land, and I went forward expecting that he
was close behind me, until I had got as much as a mile, then
made a halt, and called him, but could hear nothing of him;
it would not do for me to tarry long, for I heard the canoes
after us. I went that night with all the speed it was possible
to make, although it was very slow, for it was exceeding
dark, and about midnight it began to rain; some part of the
way I went on the bank of the river, and the other part took
to the woods, thick and thin, and went through swamps and
thickets; sometimes I would run, and very often was398
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
brought up with my legs against an old log, which would
pitch me headforemost into the brush for nearly a rod. One
time as I was running, I came to a gutter that ran through
from a pond, and the bank being almost straight down about
twelve feet deep, and it being so dark that I did not perceive
it, and taking one long step from top to bottom, came head-
foremost into it, in about four feet of water! but notwith-
standing I made a shift to force my way thro’. Any one
must suppose that I was not a very little frightened at that
misstep; but when I came to the bank on the other side, it
being somewhat steep, was very much troubled to get up,
and fell back a number of times, but by good luck at last got
out: I traveled until daylight, and then went three miles
back from the river into the woods, and came to a thick
swamp, crept into a hollow log, and lay there until evening,
and then set out on my nocturnal route; but faring very
hard, and my being much bewildered, did not know which
way to steer, but travelled about two hours, and not finding
the river, it was certain I was lost. I then turned another
course, and had not gone more than a mile before I came to
a footpath; and then did not know which way to go, but
happened to take the wrong way, and had not gone far be-
fore I met an Indian in the path. I knew that running
would not save me, and thought perhaps, if I could keep
close by him, and say nothing, I might not be mistrusted;
but on nearing him, he asked where I was going? I told
him that I was hunting after a horse and had got lost.
He asked me what my master’s name was ? I told him I did
not know, but he was a Delaware. He then asked me if I
thought I could find my camp alone; my reply was, I ex-
pected that this path would lead me to some camp that I
knew. He said there was a camp close by us. Then I told
him I would go there with him, and perhaps should know
the way home from there. He said he was going there.
Then I thought my escape was at an end, as I could not do
less than to go with him, so I followed him to the camp, and
when we came there he asked me if I knew the camp? I
replied no, but would stay there until the next morning, and
then would find the way home.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
399
All this time he did not mistrust my running away, from
the Indians, but when we came into the camp, he told them
that I was lost, and wanted to sleep there that night, so that
I might find the way home in the morning. But in the mean
time, in came the infamous George Girty,* the younger, who
knew me, and said that I had ran away from the Indians,
for they had been down to his camp that day after me. When
he first came in, he looked at me, and spoke in the Indian
language, and asked them how I came there. They made
answer that I was lost; but Girty said that I was a liar, for
there were two that run away from the Indians, and that I
was one of them; and he said the Indians were after us, and
had left word with him to take me up if he could find me.
Then Girty asked me if I did not run away from the Indians;
I told him I did not; he said he believed that I told a lie;
they directly began to converse together, to know what they
should do with me. Girty said that he would take me home
with him, and the next day take me back to my master. All
that while I sat very well composed, as if I could not under-
stand their language, although I knew if I could get over .the
river, I should stand a very good chance to make my escape
once more. The next day we set off to his camp, which was
about six miles. He took good care that I should not go be-
* George Girty, “the younger,” was a half-breed son of George Girty, and
grandson of the Simon Girty who was killed by an Indian in 1751. This Simon
left four sons, Thomas, Simon, James and George. They were all taken prison-
ers by the Indians, with whom they remained closely identified. They all figure
prominently in border history during the Revolution and the years that fol-
lowed. George, father of the half-breed to whom Bunn here refers, was adopted
by the Delawares. In 1775 he was living near Pittsburg, but in 1779 deserted
to the British at Detroit. He became British disbursing agent in the Shawanese
towns; in his later years, having taken a Delaware wife, he lived in the
Delaware towns on the Maumee. James, two years his senior, also mentioned
in Bunn’s narrative, in his later years had a trading post at Girty’s Point, five
miles above Napoleon, O. Simon Girty—most famous, or infamous, of the
brothers—attended a treaty held by Sir John Johnson at Niagara in 1786; and
here he obtained the promise of certain lands in Canada, near the Detroit river,
in recognition of his services rendered to the British during the Revolution.
Much relating to the Girtys may be found in the Haldimand Papers (MSS.,
British Museum, and copies in the Archives office, Ottawa); the best printed
account is Consul W. Butterfield’s “History of the Girtys” (Cincinnati, 1890),
a most thorough and painstaking work. It gives an account of several Ameri-
can captives who came into the hands of the Girtys, but Matthew Bunn and his
excessively rare “Narrative” were evidently unknown to its author.400
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
hind, for he put me forward, following on with a tomahawk
in one hand, and his rifle in the other; and we went in that
condition until we arrived at the river, and he called for a
canoe and we went across, and soon came to his camp. But'
when he came there, his father, and James Girty, his brother,
knew me, and several other of the Indians, and George Girty
asked me where I wished to go; I told him I wanted to go
where I could have better fare than I had among the Indians;
he asked me if they did not give me enough to eat; I told
him, instead of giving me enough to eat, they gave me noth-
ing at all. He asked me if I was hungry; I told him that
some victuals would be very kindly accepted; for I had not
eat anything for three weeks but what I could get in the
woods; he told me if I would go and cut some wood and
make a fire, I should have something to eat. It was then
evening, and I cut some wood and made a fire. As I de-
signed to make my escape the first opportunity, I sat by the
fire all night, and made two or three attempts to get away,
but the dogs would hear me, and make such a barking that
the savages would get up to see what the matter was; but
early in the morning I heard them whispering together to
know what they should do with me. The old squaws and
young Girty, said they would carry me back that day to my
master again. Hearing this, and not having any chance to
make my escape, made me feel quite down-hearted; there
was one George Whiteeyes* who could understand English,
and perceiving that I was somewhat troubled in mind, asked
me what the matter was; I told him that I heard them say
they would carry me back to my master; I told him I was
resolved not to go alive, for I knew they would put me to
the torture in the most barbarous manner. He then told
them what I said, and they concluded to send word to the
Indians that I was there, which they did by sending young
Girty unbeknown to me. When he had been gone about
half an hour, a little negro boy who belonged to James
* “Captain” White Eyes was a Delaware chief, frequently mentioned in the
records of the time. His name is in the list which Lord Dunmore furnished to
the British Government, of those whom he considered loyal on the frontiers of
Virginia. (MS. list, Haldimand Papers.) He is also mentioned in Hecke-
welder’s “Narrative,” p. 182.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
401
Girty, asked me if I knew where young Girty had gone; I
told him I did not; he said he heard them agree for me to
be kept all that day while they could give word to the Indi-
ans. When I heard this I went to old Girty, and asked him
where young Girty had gone; he said he had gone after a
horse that was lost. I was then convinced there was evil
determined against me. I told him it lay in his power to
help me, and begged he would. He said I had better be con-
tent to go back, for he did not think the Indians would hurt
me. I told him he could not satisfy me with such stories as
that, for he knew better. He said he could not assist me for
fear of the Indians, for if they knew he helped me, they
would fall aboard of him; but he said I might go to James
Girty, his brother, and perhaps he would assist me, which
I did; when I came to him, he also told me he could do
nothing for me, for fear the Indians would find it out and
blame him. I then asked him if I might go over the river
to M’Daniel’s, who kept a store on the other side, he said I
might go and see him, if I would come back again; I told
him if he was afraid of my running away he might send his
negro boy with me; accordingly he did. As soon as I got
over the river I told the boy to stand by the canoe until I
ran up to the house, and then I would come back again; but
instead of going to the house, I went into the woods about a
mile, and crept under an old log, and lay there from sunrise
until dark; then went to Mr. M’Daniels and told him my
condition, and begged his assistance; but he said it was out
of his power to help me; that if I had been there about two
hours sooner I might have had my passage into Detroit, for
he had sent two pettiaugers* of packs to that place; that he
feared the Indians, and could not assist me. I asked him if
he could help me to some provisions; he said he had none
except what he bought of the Indians, and was then quite
destitute. Then I began to be almost discouraged for fear
of being taken; but by chance there was a prisoner who
lived near by, being there, asked me if I had not made my
escape from the Indians. I told him I had; he told me it
* Periauger, a canoe formed of the trunk of a tree; a pirogue. Charlevoix
uses the old form.402
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
was not safe for me to be there, for the Indians were hunting
after me but a little while before; he advised me to go down
the river that night, gave me a paddle, and showed me a
large pettiauger that I could go across the river to the side
that the village was, and said there I would find a small
canoe, and told me to make my escape down the river; but
when I got across, and went past the town, I could find no
canoe except a birch one, and not being acquainted with
them I made out but poorly; the wind blew very fresh up
the river so that it took me quite on the other side, hard by
an Indian camp on the top of the bank, and the dogs made
such a barking that the Indians came out, but it was so dark
they could not discover me. As soon as they were still I
pushed over to the other side of the river, let my canoe drift,
and made the best of my way by land. I then had about two
miles to travel to get past the Indians; and to add to my
sorrow, through thickets and over hedge fences, until I was
almost torn to pieces. After I had got about three or four
miles past the Indian town, I heard two horse bells, at a dis-
tance from the river, went to them, caught one, and took off
the cords that his legs were tied together with, made a halter
of them, put it on, and was just ready to mount when I heard
the Indians a little distance forward, which obliged me to
leave the horse standing, and make the best of my way
through swamps and pond-holes. About twelve o’clock that
night I came into a small footpath, where I saw an Indian
lying asleep by the side of the road. Previous to his lying
down he had made him a fire, but it was all out except a
small coal which I happened to see, otherwise I should have
stepped upon the savage, which gave me a start, but stepping
back softly and creeping by him he did not wake. So I went
forward that night till break of day. I then went back into
the woods about half a mile, lay down and slept until about
ten o’clock in the morning, and then thought I would travel
a little by daylight, and went upon the shore, for the savages
were frequently passing and repassing in the road I was in.
After traveling about three miles on the shore, I saw a camp
over the river, and they discovered me—they gave an Indian
whoop, and I gave them another; they hallooed a secondNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
403
time, and I again repeated the same, which made them doubt
my being one of them, they came down to the river which
was very wide, and the wind blew exceeding hard up the
river, so that it drove them upstream some ways from me;
for there was a long point made out into the river betwixt
me and where they had to go on shore, and as soon as they
were past the point, I left the river, and went into the woods
about forty rods from the river, and crept into a thick tree
top that was lying down, where I hid myself. I had not been
there but a few minutes before the savages came by, looking
after me, until towards evening, not finding me, they re-
turned back again. I remained in this place until sunset.
When I supposed they were all encamped for that day, so
there was no danger, I went on my way again, but had not
proceeded but a few rods when I was met by three squaws,
which gave me a start, supposing there were Indians close
by, but as it happened, there were none to be seen. I traveled
all that night, sometimes on the run, and then on the walk,
sometimes upon the sandy shore, and then up in the bushes.
My moccasins were so worn out that my feet bled, but made
the best of my way until about the middle of the night, then
came to where there were two large canoes loaded with skins,
which belonged to the savages that were encamped at a small
distance from the river. I went to the canoes to see if there
were any thing to eat, and found a bag full of deer and
rackoon’s skull bones, for dressing skins; it being very dark,
I took them to be bread—got my hands full, but did not try
to eat any until I had got some distance from them, but when
I did attempt it found I was deceived, and was much vexed,
after having taken so much pains to steal for my life a parcel
of bones. I made all speed possible to get away, for fear of
the savages, and traveled until about an hour before daylight,
when I heard a drum at a great distance off.
I then began to be encouraged, supposing by the intelli-
gence I had received that I was not far from some Christian
people. But upon coming down, I found it to be an Indian
town, situated upon the other side of the river, all. except two
or three camps which were covered with flags and stood on
the side of the river where I was, and I went to one of them,404
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
and seeing nobody except an old squaw and two small chil-
dren, made bold to go in and warm myself by the fire, for I
was very much fatigued and worn out, and chilled through
with the cold, for it rained and hailed all night, which made
me very uncomfortable, being out in the storm; after sitting
down by the fire about half an hour, the old squaw awoke
and made some movements, so I made the best of my way
out of the camp, without being discovered; in the mean time,
it had got to be daylight, and I repaired to the river side.
My moccasins being quite worn out, and my feet so sore and
bloody, anybody else might easily have taken me on the
ground. After going down the river about a mile, I came to
a small village of natives, where there was a store kept by a
Frenchman; passing by, and turning to go in, the door being
partly open, I saw the floor covered with drunken Indians,
and hearing one of them say in their language there is a
white man, I turned and went round the house, and there
found a hogpen, where the hogs had just crept out, and crept
in in their place; but had not been there long before the
Indians came round the house, looking after me, but not
finding me, they went in again. Directly a Frenchman came
out of the house, and as soon as I saw him, presented myself
to him, and asked him if he could not assist me; he said he
could not for fear the Indians would find it out and kill him.
Furthermore, he said it was not safe for me to be there, for
the Indians would soon be up and likely to see me, and then
it would be impossible for me to get clear; but he said I
must go ten miles farther and I should come to an English-
man’s house where I should be much safer than I was there;
moreover he said I must be very quick in going, for the
Indians would be up after me, and it would not be possible
for me to get away from them. I immediately went on ten
miles, which I was two hours in going, being very faint and
tired, and my feet run with blood. The first house I came to
was a Mr. M’Cormics. My appearance at this time, may be
supposed to be dismal—without clothing—almost starved—
my beard and hair long and frightful. When I came to the
door and knocked, he bid me come in, and when he saw me
in that frightful situation, he was almost at his wits end, andNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
405
cried out, where the devil did you come from? I told him I
came out of an Indian country; he asked me, what the devil
brought you there? I.answered it was my misfortune to get
among them; he replied that there was a great many rascals
whom he would be glad to have slaves to the Indians all their
days. I thought then I might as well have staid among the
Indians, as to have risked my life thus far, and be so treated.
I then asked him if he knew any white people that lived near
by; he said I would find them down the river. I thought to
myself it would be far safer for me to keep round by the lake
to Detroit, and not be seen any more, as I could not tell a
friend from a foe.
When I had gone on about half a mile down the river,
walking along very slowly, and thinking to myself how I
should get by some Indian towns undiscovered, that were on
the way, I met a man by the name of Thomas Smith, an
Indian storekeeper; and as soon as he saw me he asked me
which way I was traveling; I made answer where I could
get quarters, though he knew from my appearance that I
had made my escape from the Indians; he next inquired how
far I had come; I told him from the Maumee town, which
was one hundred and thirty-five miles from the camp. He
asked me if I had any provisions? I told him it was the
fifth day since I had eat anything but nuts; he invited me
into his house and said he would help me to some, which I
received very kindly; for truly he was the first friend I had
found on the way. When I went in he gave me some
victuals to eat, but I was so faint that a very little served me.
I had not been there more than an hour before the savages
came in pursuit of me, and began to enquire after me; but
Mr. Smith put me up in his chamber, and kept me hid there
until his boat came from Detroit, when he put me on board
and sent me on my way thither. But on our way we had two
or three Indian towns to pass by, and the savages were ap-
prised of my running away, for they had the description of
me by the dress I had on, when I came from them; but the
boat men gave me other clothes to put on, so that my garb
appeared like that of a Frenchman; so I passed by undis-406
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
covered, although we lay wind bound in an Indian town for
some days.
When I arrived at Detroit (April 30, 1793), I flattered
myself I was secure from any further insult from the sav-
ages; expecting the English garrison would protect poor
captives, that fled to them for protection; and that if I was
retaken, humanity would plead for me, in case it was called
into question, supposing the English people deserved the
character of being humane. Upon these principles, I took the
liberty of walking the streets of that place, seeking for em-
ploy, that might enable me to procure some clothing, being
almost naked; but I was very soon convinced that I had
placed confidence in a people that were not deserving of it,
and that by being too credulous, had imposed on myself. I
had been there about three weeks before I could believe my
own eyes. Within that term of time I had seen many Indi-
ans that frequented that place, and could not but admire
how a few days after I was thoroughly convinced, by seeing
them bring into the English garrison the scalps of men,
women and children, for which the English would give them
a large reward, and encourage them to practice their cruel-
ties upon the Americans. They let them have fire arms, am-
munition and provisions, and also ardent spirits, to stimulate
them to action; at the idea of which humanity must revolt.
As I was walking the streets in the after part of a day on
which some savages had come to town with their scalps and
treasure, which had been taken from the Americans, feeling
very melancholy, and not observing the Indian faces so
critically as I ought to have done, my mind being much
enervated by the frequent disappointments which I had met
with, I was met by two savages that knew me, and said that
I had run away from my master, and therefore took me pris-
oner, and were immediately going to carry me back to Mau-
mee town. None can conceive the perturbation of mind
which I experienced at that unlucky meeting, but those who
have been in a similar situation. My pen or imagination
would fall infinitely short of a just description; for the cruel
savages, eager to begin their torture, and thirsting for
American blood, with their uplifted tomahawks, crying forNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
407
vengeance, could hardly be restrained from putting a period
to my life instantly. I begged of them to spare my life a
little while longer, and asked them if they would not ran-
som me in case I would procure them the money. They
seemed more pacified, and accordingly were persuaded to go
with me a small distance, to one Thomas Smith, an Indian
trader, whom I was acquainted with (being the person that
favored my escape from the Indians, by sending me to De-
troit not long before, and whose name will ever be precious
to my memory), and when we came to Mr. Smith, I in-
formed him how my circumstances were, and that unless he
would befriend me I should be miserable, lost, and undone,
being threatened with instant death; but in case the Indians
deferred it until they carried me to my master, it would be
still worse with me, for then they would scalp and burn me
at the stake. He being well acquainted with the Indians,
said he doubted not one word of it. I then made the most
solemn promise to bind myself a servant to him till I had
repaid him for his kindness, provided he would redeem me
from these savage brutes. Mr. Smith being now moved with
compassion, began to barter with the Indians for my ransom,
while I stood trembling for fear of an unfavorable issue. I
understood so much of the Indian language as to be able to
learn that they held me at a great price and was ready to
sink into the dust for fear Mr. Smith would not give it. At
length a bargain was completed, and one hundred and twenty
dollars was the price. Mr. Smith paid it, and the Indians
gave him a bill of me, and departed. Language is too poor
to express the gratitude which I felt towards my kind de-
liverer, who could have no other motive in my deliverance
than the love he cherished in his tender bosom for his fellow
men, when suffering. My heart must cease to beat within
my breast, before I can forget that worthy gentleman.
Again I was freed from immediate death, and a bound
servant to the best of masters; but in a strange country,
amongst strangers and only that one friend; naked and
hungry, and a great ransom to pay. All these circumstances
considered, it was but a gloomy prospect. A person at ease
could not enumerate the obstacles I had to surmount, to408
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
regain my liberty.—When life is compared with wealth, the
former preponderates; to rate the estimate, none are com-
petent, but those who have undergone the trial; for when
men’s interest is at stake, and life in no danger, they think
the object great; but when life is at stake, it will command
the interest to redeem it, which will be given up with all
imaginable pleasure. But my case was worse than either,
for my life was at stake, and I had no interest to redeem it;
and had it not been for my kind benefactor, I had soon been
numbered with the dead.
After I was liberated, I went directly to work under the
direction of Mr. Smith, improving every moment of the time
very industriously, earning a little here and a little there,
till I was taken sick with the fever and ague, to which the
inhabitants of that place are subject, especially new comers.
My constitution being almost ruined, from the hardships I
endured while an Indian captive, the fever ran exceeding
high, and for some time entirely laid me up. My spirits
were very low, almost despairing of recovery. Being desti-
tute of clothing, the cold fits which preceded the hot, would
almost force me to the fire; and having no person to assist
me, nor speak one consoling word, I was almost driven to
despair, but in the intermission of my fits, would consider
better of it, knowing the obligation I was under to Mr.
Smith, and viewing the many difficulties I had encountered
and surmounted, was encouraged; and considering likewise,
that it was doing injustice to myself and my friend Mr.
Smith, to give up. The feelings I had for my kind deliverer
wrought a greater effect on my mind than my own case; so
with patience and perseverance I conquered my difficulties,
and again went to my labor and continued so to do for nearly
a space of two years; in which time I had almost earned a
sum sufficient to have paid my ransom; and had it not been
for an unlucky accident taking place in a very short time
should have completed my deliverance. But my sufferings
were not at an end in so short a space of time, being again
involved in trouble and difficulty, not with the Indians, as
before, but with British tyrants, that heartless savages with-
out the fear of God could only equal.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
409
About Christmas I went out to the river Letrench,* to
clear land for a Mr. Samuel Choat (a hatter by trade), about
eighty miles distant from Detroit, and after laboring there
about two months and a half, being one day at the raising of
a barn for one Henry Boochford, I tarried till evening, and
a company of jovial lads got together, some of them Ameri-
cans, who came there with the idea of taking the oath of
allegiance to George the III. and by that means be permitted
to take up new lands. We all being merry with liquor, began
to drink healths. One of my countrymen drank a health to
the king, and damnation to Washington, in order to ingra-
tiate himself into the favor of his Majesty’s subjects, and
demonstrate his loyalty to, the crown of England, as I sup-
posed. I was moved by the insult, and to retaliate, drank a
health to Washington and damnation to the king. Henry
Boochford immediately accosted me thus, do you damn the
king? Supposing him to be in a merry humor, and not in
earnest, I repeated my words. He again said, what, do you
damn King George ? I replied I did, for what was the king
to me? He still insisted on whether I damn’d the king. I
thought him too much of a critic and gave him to under-
stand me so; telling him he busied himself with that which
he had no immediate concern with. One word brought on
another; being a little exasperated, and feeling as much for
my insulted Washington, as he did for his king, I inconsid-
erately repeated my words, and more by saying that I
damn’d the king and all the royal family, and all such fellows
as he was, who took their part. By this time our debates
were exceedingly warm, and continued so for some time;
at length the dispute subsided, and I expected a good night’s
rest would have settled the matter; but it did not prove to be
the case; it only lay dormant a few days, not extinct, as I
expected; for not long after, I was visited by a civil officer,
with a warrant to apprehend me, which he did, and informed
me that I was indicted for high treason. He then carried
me to prison, and put irons on my hands and feet, saying that
* Letrench, i. e., La Tranche, the early French name of the River Thames,
in Canada. Eighty miles from Detroit on this river brings the scene of Bunn’s
adventure not far from Newbury, some twenty-five miles southwest of St.
Thomas.410
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
I must lie in that condition till the sitting of the next ses-
sions, then to be tried for high treason, and punished as the
law directed in such cases, which was nothing short of death.
At hearing this, a dark gloom pervaded all future pros-
pect of my deliverance. Thus confined in a strong prison
in irons, and in that cruel condition to remain till next ses-
sions, which was to sit in about ten weeks, and then to be
tried, condemned, and executed, was awful, indeed, too
shocking for human nature to contemplate. I began to wish
the Indians had prevented this, which they would have done
instantly, had I resisted them when they met me walking in
the streets of Detroit. My sufferings were augmented by the
fever and ague, which so enfeebled me that I was not able
to walk the prison floor without the aid of some of the sol-
diers, I was almost destitute of clothing, having barely suffi-
cient to cover my body. My lodgings were equally as poor,
only one old ragged blanket to wrap round me; indeed my
clothing, lodging and boarding were all of a piece, for one
pound of bread, and that exceedingly poor, was my daily
allowance.
At length the time of my trial came on, and being called
to the bar and questioned respecting the crime alledged
against me, I plead not guilty. The court then proceeded in
the business, but the charge could not be supported against
me, as I had not taken the oath of allegiance to the king, arid
could not be considered as one of his subjects. Therefore I
was to be banished from that place instead of being hanged
—a happy turn in my favor, (tho’t I), expecting to be sent
to the United States. But they took care to prevent that;
and to be sure of me (expecting the American army were
coming the ensuing summer to Detroit) sent me down the
country, about 350 miles to Niagara, in order to send me
from thence the first good opportunity to Quebec, there to be
put on board a man of War. On my arrival at Niagara I
was taken from the vessel and carried before the governor of
that place,* and there I underwent another close examina-
tion respecting my damning the king, and every circumstance
* John Graves Simcoe was lieutenant governor of Upper Canada at this
time, and spent a portion of the summer of 1794 at Niagara, although York,
now Toronto, had then been fixed upon as the site of the provincial capital.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
411
concerning my situation at that time, so that he might have
it in his power to prevent and cross me in my greatest ex-
pectations. After he had made an end of his enquiries, he
informed me that I was destined for Quebec, there to be put
on board a ship of war. On hearing this I stood amazed!—
At length I roused from my lethergy and on my knees be-
fore the governor, did most earnestly solicit him to send me
to my own country, and I should be happy; but he refused
—saying that what I had been guilty of gave them the un-
doubted liberty of disposing of me as they pleased. He then
sent me from his presence to feed upon my disappointments.
While I was meditating upon my penurious circum-
stances, Captain David Shanks,* an officer on the regiment
called the Queen’s Rangers, came to me and asked me how I
should like a soldier’s life? I replied, not at all, for I had
suffered too much from it already, and only wished to see
home. He told me it was by no means likely that I should
see home very suddenly, and that I had better inlist a soldier
under him; if I would consent, he would speak to the gov-
ernor, and prevent my being immediately sent off to Quebec;
if I refused to Quebec I must go—and that in a short time.
I replied that the conditions were exceedingly hard, much
worse than I could have expected from any Christian people;
especially by a people who were bound by friendship and
alliance to alleviate the sufferings of unfortunate Americans.
From duty I was sure I was not bound to serve them and
what I already suffered at their hands was not from any
demerit of mine.
* When Lt. Col. Simcoe came to Upper Canada to become its first Governor,
in 1792, Capt. David Shank closely followed with a portion of Simcoe’s old
regiment, the Queen’s Rangers. That famous regiment, originally organized in
Connecticut and near New York by Col. Robert Rogers, was under Simcoe’s
command during the Revolutionary compaigns of i778-’8i, and was included in
the troops surrendered by Cornwallis. Simcoe returned to England. That there
was a reorganization of the Rangers, is evident from the fact that a troop bear-
ing the name of his old regiment followed him to Upper Canada. There are
many allusions to Captain Shank in Simcoe’s “Journal,” chiefly in connection
with operations around Yorktown and Williamsburg, Va., 1.781, where he is
spoken of as in command of “the cavalry of the Queen’s Rangers.” “This
Captain Shank was the same Captain Shank who afterwards, during Lieut. Col.
Simcoe’s reign as Governor of Upper Canada, settled at York (Toronto), and
acquired there a large tract of land in what is now the western part of the city,
in the vicinity of Bathurst Street.” (Read’s “Life and Times of Gen. John
Graves Simcoe,” p. 105.) In the Archives at Ottawa is a letter from David
Shank, “Major-Captain Queen’s Rangers commanding,” dated “Navy Hall
(Niagara), 29th August, 1796.” This, as well as Bunn’s statement, would indi-
cate that a portion of the Queen’s Rangers were quartered on the west side of
the river, others being in garrison at Fort Niagara.412
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
However the Captain soon convinced me that standing
out would avail me nothing; it was the governor’s will, not
mine, that would determine the matter, and that I must be
sent where the governor thought best; he gave me till night
to consider upon it, and then to give him an answer. I
weighed every circumstance, as well as a poor broken
hearted suffering mortal could in such a situation, and deter-
mined to enlist; for peradventure an opportunity might pre-
sent, which I was ready to embrace, be it sooner or later,
whereby I could desert the army and go to my friends, whom
I longed to see to excess.—But if I was put on board of a
ship, all hopes of escape would be at an end. This my reso-
lution I put in force immediately, by enlisting under Captain
Shanks, in the Queen’s Rangers, on the 4th of June, 1794.
I was immediately sent from thence about 120 miles
around the lake to where the rest of the regiment lay.* There
I was sick with the ague-fits for some time, but obliged to
attend exercise, that they might make me expert in the use of
the firelock. I continued there until some time in August,
all the while very discontented and much disheartened. As
my intention was to desert from the British tyrants, the
means by which to effect my flight were my constant study.
My countenance plainly demonstrated my uneasiness, and
doubtless the officer who enlisted me could easily guess my
designs. No artifice could hide my uneasiness, for it was
obvious from my discourse to the officer at the time of my
enlisting, with which my conduct from day to day corres-
ponded, that it was my intention to desert them the first
favorable opportunity.
So matters went on for some time, watching and being
watched, till the time arrived which I had been so long look-
ing for. But contrary to my expectations, instead of extri-
cating myself from those barbarous despots, I became doubly
involved, and my sufferings augmented to such a degree,
that my spirit came nearer deserting my body than my body
did deserting the tyrants; the particulars of which I am now
going to relate.
♦Toronto, though- the distance is overstated, but not so wildly as is pres-
ently the case in the narrative, which puts Kingston “at least 400 miles” from
Toronto!NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
413
Previous to my setting off, I had frequently conversed
with many of the soldiers whom I knew to be my friends
(and in the same predicament with myself) on the subject
of deserting. They were as fond of it as I was, but were
afraid of the consequences. They said they were utter
strangers to the way thro’ the woods which we must pass;
besides it was morally impossible to avoid being taken up
by the savages, who were as thick in the woods as mus-
quitoes.
At length one Samuel Soper, a lad about 19 years of age,
a new recruit, and who had lately joined the regiment, ap-
peared extremely anxious to desert; saying he knew the way
perfectly well to the American frontiers. We immediately
agreed to set out the next evening, and for that purpose were
to meet on the parade ground after roll-call.
Now the army was so situated, that there were two ways
by which we might make our escape. As we lay on the side
of the lake, we might go around the east end, by way of
Kingston. That looked very tedious, for the distance was at
least 400 miles, and we were in a miserable condition to un-
dertake so long a journey through the wilderness, having no
provisions to carry with us. But my companion insisted
upon going that way, saying he was acquainted with many
of the inhabitants; besides he had some relations on the
road, would help us to provisions, which I conceived we
should be very much in want of. Notwithstanding the other
way was much the nearest, yet there were insurmountable
difficulties to encounter, such as a number of garrisons to
pass; and we must likewise expect to find the woods lined
with savages, and of course be taken up before we could per-
form half our journey. I must confess I wished to avoid the
red savages, having had sufficient experience of their bar-
barity ; not that there was much difference in morals, man-
ners, and practice, between the white savages to whom I was
then a slave, and the red savages from whom I had so lately
made my escape. To avoid the fetters of both was my de-
termination.
According to our agreement, we met upon the parade, it
being about nine o’clock at night, and set off towards the414
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
town, to procure a birch canoe to carry us round the lake,
supposing that would be the best way, and the least guarded.
We had not left the parade many minutes before we were
missed, being continually watched. The whole regiment
was mustered in quest of us, and depend upon it, we were
as much alarmed as they were. We durst not travel in the
road, but kept about seven or eight rods distant from the
shore of the lake. We had not traveled far before we discov-
ered two parties in quest of us, one in boats, the other fol-
lowed the road to town.—It being very dark, which was
much in our favor, we concluded to approach nearer to the
shore of the lake, knowing that we stood as good a chance
of discovering them as they did of discovering us; accord-
ingly we leaped down the bank which was almost perpen-
dicular to the shore, and made a stand to see if we could
discover anybody. Immediately we discovered two persons
walking towards us; we lay still as though we were inani-
mate. It being very dark, they did not discover us, to our
great joy.
After they had passed us, we secreted ourselves among
some floodwood, for there was no chance of running without
being discovered by our enemies, as they passed so near us
as to come close to our heads. When all was still we as-
cended the bank, and made for the road again; but just as
we got there, we heard somebody coming, and soon saw a
guard of eight or ten men, who passed without discovering
us; had we been one minute sooner, we must have been
taken; but our time was not come. We returned again to
the bushes, and lay there trembling till the coast seemed
clear; we then rose and walked about a mile into the woods,
where we lay until morning. Supposing ourselves not safe,
we went into a very thick swamp, and lay there all day.
Evening being come we very cautiously approached the town
about midnight, and luckily found a bark canoe which we
carried to the lake, embarked, crossed a large bay about four
miles, and landed upon an island. The wind springing up
and blowing fresh soon after our landing, we dared not ven-
ture any farther at that time. Next day, about ten o'clock,
the wind abated; and about that time my comrade began toNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
415
think about something to eat. I told him I thought the risk
was too great; and that if he went, I should take the boat,
proceed on, and leave him to abide the consequences. He
then gave over, and we went immediately into the boat,
making what haste we could. About noon we arrived at a
large pond, and my comrade insisted on going ashore to get
some provisions, saying he could not live any longer unless
he obtained some; he grieved very much that I was un-
willing to go ashore, and was sorry he ever set out, having
a great mind to return and surrender himself up; I soon
convinced him of his error, telling him that he should never
leave my sight and live.
We now continued our route night and day, as often as
circumstances would permit. Sometimes the wind would
blow so fresh that we dared not proceed. Sometimes one
thing, and sometimes another, would interfere, so that in
four days we gained but seventy miles. We at length came
to where there were some inhabitants, of whom we got green
corn to refresh ourselves, which we really stood in need of,
and which put new spirits into my comrade. On the fourth
day, just at night, the wind blew exceedingly hard, so that
we were obliged to run our canoe into a small creek to pre-
vent her being dashed to pieces; and on going a few rods up
the creek, we discovered a family who had lately moved from
the States, and halted there to look at the land.
Now about four days previous to our deserting, one John
Brownrick who deserted from the same regiment, went down
that way, and got among the inhabitants. They mistrusting
that he was a deserter, sent word to the regiment that there
was such a person with them; upon which a corporal and
ten men were dispatched to conduct him back. They arrived
there about an hour after sunset that evening, at which time
they* had all three got together, as ill-luck would have it,
going down the lake for the purpose of embarking on board
our canoe, and proceeding on our journey. Just as we were
going on board, a part of the guard appeared in sight; the
remainder went round a pond which was behind us, and so
encompassed us that all hopes of escaping were at an end.
He means “we.’416
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
When we first saw them we were instantly going on board
our canoe not mistrusting who they were, nor what was their
errand, when I saw a man a few rods from us, coming
t9wards us with his arms folded up, whom I took to be of
the camp we had just passed through. I told my comrades
to look around, and turning to look myself, we soon learned
the truth to our sorrow; for the person whom we first saw,
coming up to us with a pistol in each hand, presented them at
our breasts, saying we were his prisoners;—he at the same
time set up a loud halloo, which was answered by a number
of soldiers, coming to his assistance from behind us.
Imagine our surprise at finding ourselves taken,—O
Heavens! thought I, what more have I to suffer from these
merciless tyrants ? it is impossible that I can endure the dis-
appointment. But alas! there was no withstanding their
ferocity—no time to think seriously. Driven to the alterna-
tive of returning or dying on the spot: there were ten
against three—they had arms—we had none—the odds for-
bade a dispute. They threatened us with immediate death
in case of resistance, bound us most inhumanly, and dragged
us up the bank of the lake. Not contented with the inhu-
manity of their treatment to us, at the time they captured us,
they opened our wounds afresh by threats and blows. They
made us lie on the ground all night, suffering exceedingly
from the tightness of the cords with which they bound our
hands and feet. In the morning we were most inhumanly
dragged into the boat, which immediately set off for Head-
Quarters. About the middle of the day, the wind blowing
fresh, they were obliged to put on shore with the boat and
lay there until the next day. They still kept us bound, di-
verting themselves with our condition, and telling us of the
miseries we must expect to endure on our return to the regi-
ment ; all which made a deep impression on my mind, being
well acquainted with the manners and customs of the Eng-
lish and Indians, and their hatred to the Americans. Indeed
I had no reason to expect anything better than what they
told me I should suffer.
After lying all night on the wet sand, being all three
bound fast together, we were the next morning dragged intoNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
417
the boat as before, and again set out for the regiment. We
had not gone far before the wind died away, that we were
obliged to take to our oars.—There being but five of them
that went with us in the boat, they wanted some of our as-
sistance in rowing, and proposed to liberate us, provided we
would row. Thinking it would be much easier than to lay
there bound in the manner we were, we agreed to the pro-
posal; they unbound us, and we applied ourselves smartly
to the oars. We rowed about three miles, our minds all the
while engaged in forming plans to prevent our being carried
back to the regiment. We at length slightly made signs to
rise against the boat’s crew, and take the boat to. ourselves.
We were disadvantageous^ situated in the boat to begin the
attack, John Brownrick rowed with the after, Samuel Soper
the middle, and myself the forward oar in the boat. The sail
being betwixt me and my coadjutors, prevented me from ob-
serving the critical moment when the mutiny began. All
the firearms were in the bow of the boat where I was, except
one musket which lay close to Brownrick. When the mo-
ment arrived which Brownrick conceived to be the most
favorable for our purpose, he took the gun that lay by him,
and presented it to the breast of the man who steered the
boat, threatening him with instant death in case of resistance
from him, or any other man of the company. Brownrick
then snapped the gun at him, but it missed fire, which cir-
cumstance so emboldened our enemies that they commenced
a smart defence; one of them making a stroke at Brownrick
with his oar, so timely and so well directed, that he was
knocked down senseless, and lay in that condition, for some
time, which prevented his assisting us any more. The sail
had prevented my seeing Brownrick’s motions; his threats
to the man at the helm, the snapping of the gun, and the
sound of the paddle on his head, were almost instantaneous,
following each other in quick succession, and were the first
notice I had of the matter. I immediately flew to the arms
in order to secure them, and called to Soper to exert himself
in support of our cause.—Soper thinking the combat un-
equal, five against two, stepped into the bow of the boat, and
took up a pistol which lay there. One of the boat crew then418
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
advanced toward me, to prevent my using the gun I had
taken in my hands; as soon as he came within my reach, I
struck him on the head with the breech of my gun, which
knocked him down; the blow fractured his skull, and he lay
for some time apparently lifeless. As I was a going to re-
peat the experiment on my next opposer, I was pushed down
in the bottom of the boat- by a man standing behind me,
which prevented my stroke; and before I could rise again I
was struck over the head with the barrel of the gun, which
I broke when I knocked down the man I first attacked.
Soper cocked his pistol, and presented it at the head of my
antagonist, but instead of firing the pistol, as he ought to
have done, he cried out for mercy in the most moving terms,
declaring that he had no hand in the mutiny, leaving me to
support the cause alone against four rugged opposers.—
Knowing that farther opposition would be useless, I submit-
ted myself a prisoner.
The boat’s crew being exceedingly exasperated against
me, to satisfy their revenge, struck me on the head most furi-
ously with the pistol, which effectually put an end to all
resistance on my part. After I came a little to myself, they
ordered me to sit down in the bottom of the boat, which I
did with great submission. They repeated the strokes on
my head with a pistol, till I was prostrated in the bottom of
the boat; they jumped on my breast, and threatened me with
their malignance, till Soper and Brownrick were bound fast.
They then bound me most inhumanly, and afterwards bound
us all three together, and threw us into the bottom of the
boat, in about four inches of water. We lay in that condi-
tion from seven o’clock in the morning till we arrived where
the regiment was, which was ten o’clock in the evening.
All this time we spent in silent meditation: hardly one
word escaped us, as we had nothing of a very consolatory
nature to say to each other. For my own part, I wished that
death would interfere, & foreclose the expected event: as
living in such misery was equal to the ignominious death we
expected shortly to suffer. Either of the crimes we had been
guilty of demanded our lives. From friendship we had
nothing to expect; money we had none; the result mustNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
419
therefore be death. On our arrival at our place of destina-
tion some parts of the boat’s crew went on shore, and gave
the officers an account of what had transpired from the time
of their departure in search of us, to their return. They im-
mediately sent a guard of a corporal and five men to take
charge of us, who dragged us from the boat to the shore, as
they would have done had we been dead, showing us no
mercy. We lay all night under guard, on the cold ground,
wet to the skin, without anything to eat or drink. In the
morning we were unbound, escorted from thence by a strong
guard to a loathsome prison, and ironed hand and foot. We
begged for some provisions, but they told us we deserved
none; and when we urged the necessity of having some,
saying we must eat or starve, we were answered that starv-
ing was just what we merited, and that our lives would soon
make atonement for our crimes. However, not long after,
we drew the prisoner’s allowance, bread and water, and that
very sparingly dealt out to us. Poor suffering mortals,
thought I, thus entangled and no hopes of any escape; no
friend to pity or speak one consoling word to us; but hun-
dreds on the other hand, echoing to us death and ignominy.
We were kept in irons fifteen days, and then sent down to
Niagara for trial. On our arrival at that place, a court mar-
tial was summoned, before whom we were brought, and our
crimes read to us, which were desertion and mutiny. Brown-
rick, being an old soldier and an old offender, knew the
martial law better than I did, and objected to our accusa-
tions ; saying it was not consonant to law, to try a soldier
for two crimes of equal magnitude, at one and the same time.
The chairman consulted the rest of the court martial on the
subject, and at length agreed to expunge one of the charges
exhibited against us. Mutiny was accordingly erased from
the black account. We were then ordered back to the guard
house, and the court proceeded in the business till they had
completed it. We were then ordered into court to hear sen-
tence read, which was that Brownrick and myself were next
day to receive a thousand lashes each, Soper but 800, in con-
sequence of his tender years; which favor towards Soper I
thought was quite unnecessary, expecting that neither of us420
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
would be able to survive more than five or six hundred
lashes: and what they did to us after we were dead was of
no consequence.
The next day the regiment received orders to parade at.
one o’clock in the afternoon. Soper all this while was in
the greatest agony imaginable, crying and begging for
mercy, wringing his hands, pleading that his tender years
and inexperience ought to exempt him from punishment,
and alleging that I was the sole cause of his deserting, by
which means he had incurred the displeasure of the officers,
whom he always loved, and subjected himself to an infamous
punishment. The officers considering his story very plaus-
ible, and knowing that when I enlisted that it was much
against my inclination, seemed inclined to believe all Soper
said against me. I reminded the officers that I was Ameri-
can born; that it was impossible for me to forget my coun-
try and my parents; that t was not to blame for coming
among them, fortune had directed me there; and had for-
tune favored my escape, I should have been rid of their per-
secutions, which was worth trying for. I owned that I had
enlisted, but not voluntarily; it was choosing the least of
two evils. The officers heard what they pleased of my ha-
rangue, paying but little attention during the whole of it.
At one o’clock the regiment paraded, agreeably to the
orders, and we were brought forth to receive our punish-
ment. Brownrick being the eldest of the three, was ordered
to be flogged first. He was accordingly tied up, received his
punishment, and made out to live through it. My turn came
next. I bade the world and all my friends adieu, not having
the least expectation to survive the awful trial. They tied
me up and gave me five hundred lashes. The Doctor stand-
ing by, ordered me to be released, telling them that I could
not endure any more at that time. I was accordingly taken
down but could not stand.—They informed me that on a
future day, when I should be able, I must expect to receive
the remainder of my allotted punishment. Soper, who had
stood by and seen the punishment inflicted upon us, almost
stupified with grief, expected to be instantly bound with the
cords from which I had just been released, and receive theNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
421
reward of his desertion; but his cadaverous appearance so
moved the tender feelings of the officers, that upon his hum-
bly begging pardon upon his bended knees, and solemnly
promising strict obedience for the future, they accordingly
pardoned him.*
Brownrick and myself were then carried to the hospital,
and put under the Doctor's care, there to remain till I should
either die or recover. I must confess I prayed for death,
thinking that it could be at no great distance, and hoping
that it would come like a friend to relieve me from pain.
The Doctor attended us very assiduously, and a few hours
after the first dressing of my back, I began to be sensible of
what had happened to me; for on cleansing my wounds, and
removing the coagulated blood and mangled flesh (being so
cut to pieces that my bowels were almost visable to the naked
eye), I felt the most excruciating pains, which were in-
creased by an inflammation that began to prevail, in spite of
all the Doctor's efforts to prevent it. I continued in this
situation about nine days, all of which time I lay on my face,
without a moment’s sleep. My wounded back then began a
gentle suppuration, the pain and inflammation moderated,
and the Doctor began to be encouraged, telling me with a
smile that he believed I might recover; which was more
than he expected two days before, as he expected that the
inflammation would terminate in a gangrene. At first I was
much elevated, but then considering that I had received but
half my punishment, and that returning health would bring
with it the other half, my spirits were again depressed. But
God, whose wisdom exceeds all wisdom, and whose ways are
past finding out, did through his infinite mercy support me
in the hour of my afflictions, and by his mighty power ex-
tricate me from impending misery, which none else could
have done. Blessed be his name.
About three weeks after the inflammation began to abate;
pieces of flesh as large as an egg peeled off my back in many
places; after which my wounds began to heal, so that in a
short time I was able to walk without much difficulty.
* Although the narrative is not explicit, the probabilities are that Bunn and
Brownrick were flogged on the parade-ground at Fort Niagara—on soil which at
that time belonged by treaty to the United States, but from which the British
did not retire for two years more.422
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
About three months after, the regiment had orders to
remove to Toronto, being several days journey, which was
to be performed by water; and on the day appointed for the
embarcation, the troops went on board the boats, about six-
teen in each boat, and I was on board with them. My back
was so sore that I could bear no clothing on me, except a
shirt and a blanket, which I wrapped round my shoulders.
Soon after we set sail for Toronto, a cold storm of wind and
rain came on; and notwithstanding my situation, I was
obliged to endure it with no more covering than my blanket,
and that a poor one. The boat’s crew being very peevish,
paid no more attention to me than they would have done had
I been as rugged as one of them; so that from their inhu-
manity, and the inclemency of the weather, I suffered amaz-
ingly. On our arrival at Toronto, I was ordered on shore,
and from thence to the guard house, where I was visited by
the Doctor, till such time as my back was almost well, being
four months from the time I was punished. Soon after the
Doctor had dismissed me, I was informed that the time was
drawing nigh when I was to receive the remainder of my
punishment, and desired to prepare myself to receive it. I
told them that I could not undergo the operation and live;
they told me that was my look-out, and left me to consider
of it. After a short pause, I came to the resolution of mur-
dering myself, preferring an instant death to a lingering one;
but upon a second thought, my senses revolted, fearing the
awful consequences of appearing before an offended Deity
with the crime of self-murder to answer for. In the mean-
time, while I was meditating on my present circumstances, I
was notified to make myself ready against the next day, to
receive the remainder of my punishment. O, my dear
friends and countrymen, think on my deplorable circum-
stances. Father of mercies, lend me your aid to endure what
is inflicted upon me, and sanctify it to my everlasting good.
After giving vent to a flood of tears, my convulsed breast
became more resigned to my fate, supposing my time to be
short in this transitory world, and a life of endless duration
soon to commence. So great were my expectations for
changing this world for a better, that I could have beenNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
423
willing to taste instantly the bitter cup of death, and to resign
my poor afflicted soul into the hands of God who gave it to
me, and my body to the dust from whence it was taken. All
thoughts of suicide vanished, and I became more resigned
to my fate; I only wished for presence of mind, fortitude
and perseverance, till I had finished my course. The time at
length arrived for me to prove my resolution; the regiment
paraded, and a guard came to escort me to the place of pun-
ishment ; after I came there, I thought it my duty to plead
with the officer to spare my life, which he did. The officer
seemed to hearken to my prayer, and examined me with
great circumspection, respecting my damning the King, and
what were my motives in doing it, and the reason why I de-
serted, and after I was taken, how I dared to have a recourse
to mutiny; and farther, who were my accomplices. I in-
formed him with great submission, saying, I was as much to
blame as either of the others, and no more, notwithstanding
Soper's evidence against me; for we would have all gone
clear if we could, which was evident from our rising against
the boat's crew, notwithstanding our inferiority in numbers:
but what was done could not be recalled, and if I could be
forgiven, I would in future behave myself in all respects as
a good and faithful soldier. Upon the reception of my con-
fession, the officer put his hand into his pocket and took out
my pardon, which was from the governor, and read it to me,
which so moved my feelings of gratitude to God, in mercy
to me, that I behaved more like an idiot than a man of sense.
I hopped and skipped about the circle of soldiers that had en-
compassed me for punishment, thanking heaven for my kind
deliverance from the immediate jaws of death.
The officers appeared not a little pleased, supposing they
had conquered me with judgment mingled with mercy. I
was then ordered to join the regiment, accordingly I did,
and there I soon learned the reason of the abatement of the
lemainder of my punishment. It was Soper's conduct that
gave rise to it; for he at the time of our trial accused me of
being the sole cause of his desertion, and consequently pro-
moted the mutiny, to which he declared he was not an acces-
sory, and the part which he acted was not on account of the424
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
circumstances of the case in which he was so suddenly in-
volved, and in evidence of the turpitude, he said he laid hands
on no person, and the taking up the pistol and presenting it
as he did, was done through confusion of mind, witnessing
that at the instant in which he presented the pistol at the sol-
dier’s head, he cried out for mercy, and declared himself
innocent of the rising; and on these circumstances, at the
time when I received my punishment, Soper received his
pardon, and orders to join the regiment, which he did im-
mediately. A short time after, this honest, innocent Soper
deserted them; they pursued him, but to no purpose; he
effected his escape; a happy circumstance for me, for the
officers were by that convinced Soper was an imposter, and
that I was in a great measure right in what I related to them
of his conduct, at the time we deserted together, and after-
wards; therefore discharged me from the remainder of my
intended punishment! My captain was humane, and I sup-
pose a good advocate in my favor; he never seemed to take
any delight in the punishment of a soldier, nor I believed
ever encouraged the soldiers in complaining of one another,
but would chide them smartly when they came to him with
complaints, telling them that half to the complainant was as
just, where punishment was to be inflicted, as it was when
interest was to be accumulated by it; but I must confess the
officers had it not in their power to do justice to the soldiers
at all times, for it was impossible for them to know the right
of the case, the soldiers were so combined together. I be-
lieve there scarcely ever was a more vicious set of mortals
collected from the four corners of the globe. They consisted
of refugee English, Scotch, Irish, Dutch, and American cow-
boys, except some poor American captives which were pur-
chased of the Indians, and by some artful means forced into
their army. Indeed an honest soldier could as well live in
the fire as to live with them; for if he would not do as they
would have him, they would tell him they could easily put
him out of their way. They frequently sent off parties in
boats on duty, to some place where they wanted provisions
collected, or forage, with an orderly officer to oversee them;
and if the officer was not quite agreeable to them, when onNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.	425
shore, they would purposely knock him overboard, row off,
and leave him to drown; and when they returned, the officer
would inquire into the matter, but to no purpose; for the
boat's crew would swear, one and all, that the deceased fell
overboard by mere accident, and the circumstances were such
at that present time, that it was out of their power to save
him, and matters were obliged to pass off.
After I had been in the regiment a few weeks, and had
recovered my strength in some measure, one day my captain
came to me, and asked me if I should like to go a little dis-
tance from the army and go to work clearing land. I told
him it would be perfectly agreeable if I could have company;
accordingly I chose on Thomas Kenning, a native of old
Hartford, and off we set, built us a hut according to our cap-
tain’s directions, and went to work. Now I was consider-
ably indebted to my captain, for when I was sick he pro-
vided me with a nurse, and would advance money for me
when I wanted necessaries; and gratitude forbade my not
serving him. But after we had labored there till the ensuing
April, we concluded we had done sufficient to discharge our
arrearages, therefore under no obligation to king or captain;
and if we stayed any longer we should work no more money
into our pockets, and concluded to set off the first good op-
portunity ; accordingly we packed up our duds, and about
three days’ provisions that we had in camp with us, and on
the 27th day of April, at evening, we set off, hope and fear
constantly alternating, watching and praying for our per-
sonal safety, and marched on to the shore to find a canoe,
for by water we must go, and the Indians must find us a
canoe. After we came to the shore, we traveled on about
two miles, and found a canoe; but the Indians were asleep
hard by it, indeed so near were they we thought it imprac-
ticable to steal it; but we could find no other, and something
must immediately be done, as we soon should be missed, and
the Indians likely would awake—we agreed to try our skill,
went softly as possible to the canoe, took it up, and returned
back undiscovered, then launched it into the lake, got into it,
and paddled off with all possible speed round the lake, and
by daylight we were 16 miles from the regiment; then we426
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
went on shore, and carried our canoe into the bushes, and
there we lay concealed until twelve o’clock, and observing
nothing moving that would molest us, we set off, and with
our paddles almost made our little birch canoe fly; we
watched and trembled as we proceeded, keeping close in with
the shore, that in case we were chased by boats, we might
quit oars, and fly to the woods. After we had got about
three miles upon our second set-out, we discovered a large
sail boat making after us; we immediately made for the
shore, up with our canoe, and retreated to the woods; but
the boat passed without discovering us, and made round a
point of land; then we had fears that they had discovered us,
and were going about three miles round, and then to come
upon our backs, and cut us off from the woods. We in-
stantly hid our canoe, took up our packs, and marched into
the woods about one mile, there deposited our packs in a
thicket of bushes, and went to see if we could discover any-
thing more of the boat, and whether they had landed or not;
and when we came where we expected they had landed, we
saw them at a good distance, going on their way; then our
fears abated, and we returned to our packs, and from thence
to our boats, and carried our boat to the water’s edge, in
order to proceed on; but soon discovering a boat with In-
dians a small distance ahead of us, we nimbly retired to the
bushes, and were not discovered by them. We concluded not
to venture round that point of land, but to carry the canoe
across it, being about three miles to the lake; accordingly we
did so, launched our canoe, and set off for the opposite
shore; it had got to be the dusk of the evening, but we sup-
posed we could plainly see the opposite shore, and after we
had paddled till the middle of the night, we could not dis-
cern any land at all, the wind rising, and soon blew most
violently, raising an awful swell, the agitated lake tossing us
upon the surface of the water, then down again into the
trough of the sea; the next sea would meet us and raise us
again, so that we would rise and fall at each alternate swell
nearly ten feet, and expected every moment to be swallowed
up by the tide. Our boat would often times take in two or
three gallons of water, which we instantly baled out withNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
427
our canteen, which we had fitted for that purpose, by taking
out one of the heads, previous to our attempting to cross.
In this awful predicament we remained until about an hour
before daylight, when we arrived at the shore, and at-
tempted landing, but met much difficulty in performing the
task; the swells ran high, and when I stepped from the canoe
I held her fast by one hand; but being chilled by the cold
and water, having sat waist-band high in the latter from mid-
night, I had lost the use of my legs, and the swell, when re-
turning from the shore, would carry me with it ten or twelve
feet back into the lake, and when it returned, would drive
me with my canoe on the shore again; at length I braced
myself, and held her till the swell had gone out, and then
instantly dragged her out of the reach of the swells, and then
my comrade got out, but could not stand. I fell to chafing
him until he began to be warm, and by that time the day
began to dawn, which warned us to retire into the woods,
for our personal safety. We took up our canoe and carried
it into the bushes and hid it, and then went on ourselves till
we were far enough from the shore to be out of danger, and
then struck a fire, stripped off our wet clothes, dried them,
warmed ourselves, eat a few mouthfuls of our provisions,
and were not a little pleased to think we had so fortunately
escaped thus far from the regiment. After we had suffi-
ciently dried our clothing and rested our weary limbs, we
concluded to return to our canoe, carry it to the shore, and
proceed; for we had no time to spare; but to be too hasty
in our march would be equally dangerous, and we hardly
knew when we were too fast or too slow; for our escape
depended much on a well-timed march.—When we came to
the shore we found the wind had much abated; in a short
time it was calm, and the agitated lake much quieted. To our
great surprise we found the lake much broader where we
crossed the preceeding night, than we expected, for we
could not discern the opposite shore from which we came,
and afterwards learned it was 24 miles across. We again
set off, keeping close in with the land, and went about three
miles; then went on shore, the wind again blew fresh, which
prevented our going any further till it moderated; we left428	NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
our canoe by the shore side, for there was a small village in
sight of us, and the land cleared for some distance round it,
and if we had carried our boat with us we should have been
discovered. We went to the woods, and tarried till the next
night, undiscovered by any of the inhabitants; then we re-
turned to our canoe, and found it was beat to pieces by the
swells. Now we were in a sad predicament, and determined
to retire about ten miles to a neighboring wood, which we
did, undiscovered, and placed ourselves in a thicket of brush;
there we gave ourselves full liberty to speak, think and con-
sult freely on our circumstances; we had not so much to fear
from Indians as we had before, as we were out of their
course, besides that we had passed the most formidable part
of them; the white people were now most to be feared by
us; at length we agreed to follow the lake until we arrived
at Niagara, and accordingly set off, and traveled for five
days and a half; but meeting with large ponds and impos-
sible swamps that we were obliged to go round, and which
led us about ten miles from the lake, which in some measure
lost us, concluded we had gone far enough; accordingly
shaped our course for the head of the lake, and after we had
travelled about ten miles, we arrived at the lake, about eight
miles below where we expected; then retired again into the
woods, and set ourselves down to rest, in a place where we
were secure from all but strolling parties of English and
Indians; the Indians were what we most feared, for they
always had a large dog with them, and their dogs would be
as likely to find us, as to find game, and would not leave us
when found, sooner than they would leave a buck. We con-
tinued there until dark, interrupted by nothing in reality,
though imagination would rouse us; then we marched on
very cautiously to the head of the lake, to Niagara, and at a
distance from the fort, viewed it, seeing nothing stirring to
molest us; our being well acquainted with that place gave
us some advantage in securing ourselves; we knew their
customs, their travels by night and day, and governed our-
selves accordingly. We agreed to take the river Niagara,
where it empties into Lake Ontario at Fort Niagara, and
follow it, to see if we could not find an Indian canoe to passNARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
429
the river; we traveled about six or eight miles, but found
nothing to help ourselves ; then we returned within sight
of the garrison, and observed nothing stirring that would
harm us; we shaped our course for the Genesee country,
and traveled on till daylight began to dawn; we then retired
to a thicket of brush at some distance from the road, and lay
there waiting the approach of night with great impatience,
our provisions being almost spent, and no means in our
power to recruit them, and also exceedingly fatigued with
our journey, and weakened for want of the common comforts
of life; but the magnitude of our object supplied the place
of provisions, and the hopes of our future enjoyments can-
celled the past and present hours of adversity. Notwith-
standing, our case was urgent, and there was no time to be
lost; thus urged on to improve industriously every minute
of our time, for we must in case we did not soon complete our
undertaking, perish with hunger, or fall a sacrifice to British
barbarity.
About twenty-one miles from Niagara, there was a gar-
rison kept by the English called Chippawa (an Indian name)
by which we must pass, and from that at the distance of
about eighteen miles another garrison, being Fort Erie, the
river Niagara passing betwixt that, and the Genesee country,
which could be crossed no other way than in ferry boats; so
that we had nearly forty miles then to travel before we could
arrive at the Genesee country; however, we encouraged each
other, and in the dusk of the evening set out with a consid-
erable share of fortitude, and a determined resolution to per-
severe. The inhabitants being very thick, we were obliged
to keep the woods as much as possible; thus we traveled on
until we came to the Chippawa garrison; thus we were
obliged to take the road, traveling on till at length we met
five or six men standing in the road; coming up to them
they accosted us, how do you do, gentlemen? We answered
them as politely as possible, and without any visible con-
cern; they asked us, where we were bound; I answered,
Detroit. Whither do you come from? I answered the
States. What parts? I answered, Schenectady. One of
them informed me he came from there not long since, and430
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
did I know any of the people of that place ? I answered him
that I made no particular acquaintance with any person, as
my stay there was very short; for soon after my arrival, I
took boat and came directly to Detroit; and to prevent any
farther inquiry, I bade them all good night, and passed on.
We had not gone far before we met three more, who exam-
ined us a little. I answered them and moved on, being con-
siderably alarmed expected to be taken up, or that an attempt
would be made to take us up, which would be nearly as fatal;
but we met with no more interruption until we came near
the garrison; then we had to seek for the bridge, which was
not far from us; we went on with much caution; at length
we discovered the bridge, a centinel placed not far from it,
and on the left side of the road, at a small distance, was the
garrison; on the right stood a large store-house; we made
for the back side of it, and got there unbeknown to the cen-
tinel, and when he walked from us we could creep along,
and when he came towards us, we lay still, till at length we
got on the bridge; then we were discovered, and ran with
all speed across the bridge, betaking ourselves to the woods,
and traveling about two miles, and there secreted ourselves
in the thickest of brush rejoicing at our good fortune in mak-
ing our escape thus far.* We took a short nap now and then,
till night coming on, we set off, following the woods not far
distant from the road that led to Fort Erie, till we arrived
at the river Niagara, near the fort. We searched very closely
for a boat to cross the river, but could find none; then we
set off down the Niagara, and traveled about six miles, and
* Writing about 1800, George Heriot, deputy Postmaster General of British
North America, said of “Chippawa or Fort Welland”:	“A wooden bridge is
thrown across this stream, over which is the road leading to Fort Erie. The
former fort consists only of a large block-house near the bridge, on the northern
bank, surrounded by lofty pickets; it is usually the station of a subaltern officer
and twenty-five men, who are principally engaged in conducting to Fort Erie the
transport of stores for the service of the troops in the upper part of the prov-
ince, and for the engineer and Indian departments.” Heriot’s narrative (“Travels
through the Canadas,” etc., London, 1807) is so impersonal that one cannot fix
by it the date of his visit to the Niagara; but as he refers to the year 1800, and
as his description of Niagara Falls was published in the London Sun in 1801, it
was probably in that or the preceding year that he was here. The conditions at
Chippewa (to use the modern but less correct spelling) when Bunn made his
flight across the bridge, were doubtless much like those which Heriot found a
few years later.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
431
coming to Col. Powell's* near the river side, we found a
large boat which could have carried a dozen or 15 men. We
immediately went on board, and set off from the shore; but
meeting some ice, we drifted a little way, and landed upon
an Island; then one of us went on shore, taking hold of the
boat's painter, the other in the boat, with an oar kept her off
from the shore, and dragged the boat round the Island; then
set off again, and arrived on shore about two hours before
daylight, and made our boat fast, then retired to the woods,
and sat down securely, and took from our pockets all the
provisions we had left, which was only about two ounces of
bread a piece; we ate it; and had eighty miles to travel be-
fore we could arrive at the Genesee Settlement; but we were
much encouraged, not doubting but we should soon arrive
among our friends and relations. We again set out, and
traveled till we came to a foot path that led from Fort Erie
to the Genesee; and for fear of meeting with Indians, we
retired some distance from the path, and lay there until about
one the next morning; the moon rising, we steered by that,
and traveled till daylight, then retired as before; and so
lying by in the day, and traveling by night, in two days we
arrived at the Genesee, after a tedious travel of ten days in
the woods, without any thing to cover us but the heavens,
and only three day's provision.
We set out on our journey the twenty-seventh of April,
and arrived on the seventh of May, in the year 1795, where
we were cordially received by the inhabitants, and most
kindly treated.
Perhaps my readers may be desirous to know who my
comrade was who came with me, and the place of his abode;
his name was Thomas Kenning, a native of Old Hartford,
who, being taken by the Indians not long after I was, carried
* On the Canada shore opposite the head of Grand Island. Whether it was
across the upper end of that island, or Strawberry, or even Squaw Island, fur-
ther up stream, that Bunn and his companion made their way, we may be sure
that the footpath they presently struck into was the Indian trail leading to the
old ferry at the famous “black rock,” about a quarter of a mile north of the
present ferry landing. Later on this trail became the Guide-board Road, a part
of which coincided with Porter Avenue (east of Prospect Avenue) and North
Street, to the corner of Main, where, they came into the ancient highway tha.t
led them to the Genesee.432
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
to the Maumee town, from which place I had but a short
time before deserted. The Indians not fancying him, for he
did not understand business very well, sold him to an Indian
trader for five pounds; the Indian trader sent him to Detroit,
to labor, thereby to redeem himself, and it was there I got
acquainted with him. Being very intimate, we kept together;
and after I had enlisted, to continue in company he also en-
listed ; and after taking the oath of allegiance we each re-
ceived our bounty, which was ten guineas. So that from the
time of our acquaintance to the present day, is something
more than two years and a half. He being a shoemaker,
went immediately to work, after our arrival at Genesee; and
after I had recovered in some measure from the fatigue
which I underwent on our journey, and from the bad state
of health which I was in, went to work to get me some cloth-
ing and money to bear my expenses home. What I earned,
and what the inhabitants kindly bestowed upon me, bro’t me
safe in Rehoboth, on the first of October, 1795.
I omitted in the first part of this journal, to finish the
account of my friend, Mr. Smith, who ransomed me from
the Indians. After I was put in prison for damning the king,
I was indebted to Mr. Smith, and all probability of his re-
covering any more of me, was at an end, he expected me to
be hanged; but it proved more favorable to me, than he or
I expected; some time after I had enlisted, we happened to
meet and he seemed very glad that my life was spared; and
after some talk he asked me if I was willing to make a set-
tlement with him; accordingly we settled accounts and
found a balance due to him of something more than fifteen
dollars; he kindly asked me if I could let him have a small
part of it, without much injuring myself. I told him I felt
a pleasure in helping him, and went directly to a friend that
kept my money that I had taken for my bounty, and gave him
his pay to a farthing, which pleased him well; he then
wished me well, and we parted, and I never saw him after-
wards; for soon after, the Indians went to fight General
Wayne’s army, and a great number of the first characters in
Detroit dressed themselves in disguise, and went with them,NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
to encourage them; and in that action my friend Mr. Smith,
was killed, with many other white people of that place.
Morris Doyle (who left the Indians at the same, and
who accompanied me, till we quit the canoe) being an old
countryman, and not used to the woods, could make no hand
in traveling in the night; he soon lost sight of me, returned
to the boat, and embarked for he knew not where, but kept
on till he arrived at an island in the fork of Glaze* river, and
there went on shore, supposing he had made the main land,
and set his canoe adrift; but after daylight he too late dis-
covered his mistake; for he was so completely encompassed
with water, that he could not get off, without the Indians
come & carried him. He walked round the island, to see if
anybody appeared, so that he might go off; and about twelve
o’clock he observed an Indian coming directly to the island,
to hunt; when the Indian was out of sight, Doyle took his
canoe and made his escape from the Island to the shore of
the river; then making the best of his way down the river
five or six miles, but being without provisions, he called at
an Indian camp. The Indians at the camp having heard that
Doyle had escaped from the Indians up the river, took him
into safe keeping, and sent word that he was in their pos-
session. Upon this, they immediately came and took Doyle
into custody, and were about to put him to death, when there
happened to be an Indian trader present, by the name of
Robert Wilson, who bought Doyle for two half joesf and
sent him into Detroit. I afterwards saw him at that place,
and labored with him a number of days; but having gone
out with a party of the King’s Surveyors, he broke his leg
and died in the woods.
AFFIDAVIT.
STATE OF NEW YORK, \
ERIE COUNTY. / "•
I, Matthew Bunn, the author of the above Narrative, am
duly sworn, and testify, that the above Narrative is a true
* The Auglaize.
+ A joe was a Johannus, a Portuguese coin worth about $8. P.ossibly the
abbreviation here used was applied to other coins.484
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
statement of the Life and Adventures of the above named
Matthew Bunn, and that I am the identical person above
named in this Book, and who subscribes his hand and name
hereunto.
MATTHEW BUNN.
Sworn and subscribed before me,
this 30th day of October, 1826.
MILLARD FILLMORE,
Com'r &c. for Erie County.
PATRIOTIC SONG
ST. CLAIR’S DEFEAT—By M. Bunn.
November the fourth, in the year ninety-one,
We had a sore engagement near to Fort Jefferson;
St. Clair was our commander, which may remembered be,
Since we have lost nine hundred men in the western territory.
At Lexington and Quebec, where many a hero fell,
And likewise at Long Island, as I the truth can tell,
For such a horrid carnage my eyes they never see,
As happened on the plains near the river St. Mary.
Our militia were attacked just as the day did break,
But soon were overpowered and forced to retreat;
Then they killed Capt. Oldham, Lament and Briggs likewise,
Such horrid shouts of the savages that sounded thro’ the skies.
Young Major Butler was wounded the very second fire,
Whose manly breast did swell with rage, and forced to retire:
Like one distracted he appeared, and thus exclaimed he,—
“Those fiends of hell shall win the field, or revenged I will be.
We had not long engaged when General Butler fell,
He cries, “my boys, I am wounded, pray take me off the field;
My God! he cries, what shall we do, we’re murder’d every man,
Go charge my valient heroes, and beat them—if you can.”
He turned his back against a tree and there resigned his breath,.
And like a valiant hero, sunk in the arms of death:
Ten thousand seraphs did await, his spirit to convey,
And thr6ugh the bright ethereal they swiftly bent their way.NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
435
We made a charge, and gained the ground, which did our fears
abate,
But soon were overpowered, and forced to retreat,
They took from us our cannon, which grieved our hearts full sore,
Such horrid shouts of triumph like hell-hounds they did roar.
We made a charge and gained our guns, we fought like hearts of
steel,
Till many a brave American lay slaughtered o’er the field,
Then they killed Major Ferguson, which caused his men to cry,
Don’t be dismayed, says Capt. Ford, we fight until we die.
These words he had scarce uttered, when he received a ball,
And likewise our Lieutenant Spear down by his side did fall,
Stand by your guns, says gallant Ford, for I am not yet slain,
I will lay me down and bleed a while, and rise & fight again.
Says Major Gibson to his men, my boys be not dismayed,
I am sure the Pennsylvanians they never were afraid.
Ten thousand deaths I’d rather die, than they should win the field,
Soon he received a fatal ball, which caused him for to yield.
Our cannon balls were all soon spent, our artillery men were slain,
Our musketry and riflemen a firing did sustain,
Three hours or more we fought them there, and then were forced
to yield,
Whilst three hundred bloody warriors stood hovering round the
field.
Says Major Clark, my heroes bold we can no longer stand,
Therefore we will form in order the best way that we can.
The word retreat sounded around, which raised a hue & cry,
Then helter skelter through the woods, like lost sheep we did fly.
We left our wounded on the field, O heavens! what a stroke,
Some of their thighs were shattered, and some their arms were
broke;
With tomahawks and scalping knives, they robbed them of their
breath,
In fiery flames of torment then tortured them to death.
To mention my brave officers is what I mean to do,
No son of mars ne’er fought more bold, or with more courage true;
To Captain Bradford I belong, of the artillery,
He fell that day among the slain, and a valliant man was he.
There is Kelly and young Anderson, whose names shall be re-
vered ;
They fought like brave Americans, but death was their reward.
Full twenty paces in the front they of their men did go,
Their enemy soon marked them out and proved their overthrow.
There is Purdy and young Bates, subalterns of great power,
So boldly they led on their men, three-quarters of an hour,436
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
Till they were slain upon the field, like saints resigned were they,
There Bates smiling said, fight on* while bleeding thus he lay.
Young Major Dark received a ball close by his father’s side,
These feeble hands shall be revenged on my son’s death he cried,
He quickly drew his sword in hand, and through the ranks he flew,
And like a brave Virginian the savage there he slew.
Of all the men that fell that day, young Major Hart was best;
One pleasing consolation, his soul has gone to rest,
No blooming chief was there to frown, alas, his glass is run,
He has gone to future happiness, and dwells beyond the sun.
The day before our battle fifteen hundred men we had,
But our old gouty general had used us very bad,
He whip’t, and hung, and starved his men, in barbarous cruelty,
Thus negro like he did behave, on the western territory.
Come all you brave Americans, lament the loss with me,
It was by bad mismanagement, as you may plainly see,
This is the ending of my song, excuse me if you please,
St. Clair’s Defeat it may be called, so praise it at your ease.394
NARRATIVE OF MATTHEW BUNN.
in particular, that we were out, I supposed that we were
within forty miles of an American fort, and in the morning I
came to the fire as they lay asleep, and took their toma-
hawks and almost determined to kill them both, and make
my escape to the American fort; but I took the second
thought that the woods were full of savages, and if they
should come across my track, and follow me, they would
have ten chances to catch me where I had one to get clear of
them; and thought I should have some opportunity of get-
ting away without running so great a risk; and so concluded
it was best to be as patient as I could, although I had the
tomahawk up several times to drop it into their heads; but I
forebore striking.
Not long after that, as one of the Indian boys was sitting
one day in the camp with me alone, he on one side of the fire
and I on the other, and having his bow in his hand, and a
handfull of wooden arrows, he would shoot them at me, and
after many trials he shot one into my wrist, which bent the
point against the bone, I caught hold of a stick, about three
inches thick, and threw at him, and hit him on the side of the
head, and knocked him almost senseless; but it happened to
be when my master was gone, and he did not get home under
three weeks after, and by that time it had all died away; for
I never heard anything about it; although if my master had
been at home, they would have tomahawked me themselves.
By this time of the year corn grew very scarce, and the
meat was very poor, and but little of it for my share; some-
times they would kill a raccoon, and my part of it would be
the head without anything to eat with it; that was my al-
lowance for a day, and very often for two or three days, had
nothing at all but what nuts I could find in the woods, and
some other trifles. About the middle of March, as some of
the copper-headed boys were hunting, they found a large
black-snake, that was drawn out of the water by a mink,
and brought it to the camp, roasted it with a squirrel, broke
it up fine, and gave it to me to eat; but as soon as I found
out what it was, I hove it down by the fireside, and when my
mistress perceived that, she told me to eat it, or I should not
have anything, and they never offered me anything more for