opinions. Some said that General Forbes would now turn back, and go
home the way that he came, as Dunbar had done when General Braddock was
defeated; others supposed he would come on. The French urged the
Indians to stay and see the event; but as it was hard for the Indians
to be absent from their squaws and children at this season of the year,
a great many of them returned home to their hunting. After this the
remainder of the Indians, some French regulars, and a number of
Canadians, marched off in quest of General Forbes. They met his army
near Fort Ligonier, and attacked them, but were frustrated in their
design. They said that Forbes's men were beginning to learn the art of
war, and that there were a great number of American riflemen along with
the redcoats, who scattered out, took trees, and were good marksmen;
therefore they found they could not accomplish their design, and were
obliged to retreat. When they returned from the battle to Fort Du
Quesne, the Indians concluded that they would go to their hunting. The
French endeavored to persuade them to stay and try another battle. The
Indians said if it was only the redcoats they had to do with they could
soon subdue them, but they could not withstand _Ashalecoa_, or the
Great Knife, which was the name they gave the Virginians. They then
returned home to their hunting, and the French evacuated the fort,
which General Forbes came and took possession of, without further
opposition, late in the year 1758, and at this time began to build Fort
Pitt.
When Tecaughretanego had heard the particulars of Grant's defeat he
said that he could not well account for his contradictory and
inconsistent conduct. He said, as the art of war consists in ambushing
and surprising our enemies, and in preventing them from ambushing and
surprising us, Grant, in the first place, acted like a wise and
experienced warrior in artfully approaching in the night without being
discovered; but when he came to the place, and the Indians were lying
asleep outside of the fort, between him and the Alleghany River, in
place of slipping up quietly, and falling upon them with their
broadswords, they beat the drums and played upon the bagpipes. He said
he could account for this inconsistent conduct in no other way than by
supposing that he had made too free with spirituous liquors during the
night, and became intoxicated about daylight. But to return.
This year we hunted up Sandusky and down Scioto, and took nearly the
same route that we had done the last hunting season. We had
considerable success, and returned to Detroit some time in April, 1759.
Shortly after this Tecaughretanego, his son Nunganey, and myself went
from Detroit (in an elm-bark canoe) to Caughnewaga, a very ancient
Indian town, about nine miles above Montreal, where I remained until
about the first of July. I then heard of a French ship at Montreal that
had English prisoners on board, in order to carry them over sea and
exchange them. I went privately off from the Indians, and got also on
board; but as General Wolfe had stopped the river St. Lawrence, we were
all sent to prison in Montreal, where I remained four months. Some time
in November we were all sent off from this place to Crown Point, and
exchanged.
Early in the year 1760 I came home to Conococheague, and found that my
people could never ascertain whether I was killed or taken until my
return. They received me with great joy, but were surprised to see me
so much like an Indian, both in my gait and gesture.
Upon inquiry, I found that my sweetheart was married a few days before
I arrived. My feelings I must leave, on this occasion, for those of my
readers to judge who have felt the pangs of disappointed love, as it is
impossible now for me to describe the emotion of soul I felt at that
time.
In the year 1788 I settled in Bourbon County, Kentucky, seven miles
above Paris, and in the same year was elected a member of the
convention that sat at Danville to confer about a separation from the
State of Virginia; and from that year until the year 1799 I represented
Bourbon County either in convention or as a member of the General
Assembly, except two years that I was left a few votes behind.
II
THE NARRATIVE OF FRANCESCO GIUSEPPE BRESSANI, S.J., RELATING HIS
CAPTIVITY AMONG THE IROQUOIS, IN 1644
The Italian Jesuit missionary Father Bressani was born in Rome, 6
May, 1612. At the age of fourteen he entered the novitiate of the
Society of Jesus. Becoming zealous to serve as missionary among the
American Indians, he went to Quebec in the summer of 1642, and the
following year he was sent among the Algonquins at Three Rivers.
In April, 1644, while on his way to the Huron country, where a
mission had been established, he was captured by the Iroquois, who
at that time were an exceedingly fierce and even cannibal nation,
perpetually at war with nearly the whole known continent. By them
he was subjected to tortures, but finally was made over to an old
squaw to take the place of a deceased relative. From her he was
ransomed by the Dutch at Fort Orange (the modern Albany), and by
them he was sent to France, where he arrived in November, 1644.
Despite his terrible experiences among the savages, and his maimed
condition, the indomitable missionary returned to Canada the next
spring, and labored with the Hurons until their mission was
destroyed by the Iroquois four years later.
In November, 1650, Bressani, in broken health, went back to his
native land. Here he spent many years as a preacher and home
missionary. He died at Florence, 9 September, 1672.
The following account of Father Bressani's sufferings among the
Indians is translated from two of his own letters in his book
_Breve Relatione d'alcune Missioni nella Nuova Francia_, published
at Macerata in 1653. (_Editor._)
FIRST LETTER,
Dated "From the Iroquois, the 15th of July, 1644."
OUR MOST REVEREND FATHER IN CHRIST:
_PAX CHRISTI_--I know not whether Your Paternity will recognize the
handwriting of a poor cripple, who formerly, when in perfect health,
was well known to you. The letter is badly written, and quite soiled,
because, among other inconveniences, the writer has but one whole
finger on his right hand, and can scarcely prevent the paper's being
stained by the blood which flows from his yet unhealed wounds. His ink
is arquebuse powder [gunpowder rubbed up with water], and his table the
bare earth. He writes to you from the land of the Iroquois, where he is
now a captive, and would briefly relate what Divine Providence has at
last ordained for him.
I set out from Three Rivers, by order of the Superior, the 27th of last
April, in company with six Christian Indians and a young Frenchman,
with three canoes, to go to the country of the Hurons.
On the evening of the first day, the Huron who steered our canoe, when
firing at an eagle, upset us into Lake St. Pierre. I did not know how
to swim, but two Hurons caught me and drew me to the shore, where we
spent the night, all drenched. The Hurons took this accident for an
ill-omen, and advised me to return to our starting point, which was
only eight or ten miles off. "Certainly," they cried, "this voyage will
not prove fortunate." As I feared that there might be some superstition
in this discourse, I preferred to push on to another French fort
[Richelieu], thirty miles higher up, where we might recruit a little.
They obeyed me, and we started quite early the next morning, but the
snow and bad weather greatly retarded our speed, and compelled us to
stop at midday.
On the third day, when twenty-two or twenty-four miles from Three
Rivers, and seven or eight from Fort Richelieu, we fell into an
ambuscade of twenty-seven Iroquois, who killed one of our Indians, and
took the rest and myself prisoners. We might have fled, or killed some
Iroquois; but I, for my part, seeing my companions taken, judged it
better to remain with them, accepting it as a sign of the will of
God....
Those who had captured us made horrible cries, and after profuse thanks
to the Sun for having in their hands, among the others, a "Black Robe,"
as they call the Jesuits, they changed the canoes. Then they took from
us everything; that is, provisions for all of ours residing among the
Hurons, who were in extreme want, inasmuch as they had for several
years received no aid from Europe.
Having commanded us to sing, they led us to a little river hard by,
where they divided the booty, and scalped the Huron whom they had
killed. The scalp was to be carried in triumph on a pole. They also cut
off the feet, hands, and most fleshy parts of the body to eat, as well
as the heart.
Then they made us cross the lake to pass the night in a retired but
very damp spot. We there began to take our sleep bound and in the open
air, as we continued to do during the rest of the voyage....
The following day we embarked on a river, and after some miles they
ordered me to throw overboard my papers, which they had left me till
then. They superstitiously imagined that these had caused the wreck of
our canoe. They were surprised to see me grieve at this loss, who had
never shown any regret for all else. We were two days in ascending this
river to the rapids [of Chambly], which compelled us to land, and we
marched six days in the woods.
The next day, which was Friday, the sixth of May, we met other Iroquois
going out to war. They added some blows to the many threats they had
made; and having related to us the death of one of their party, killed
by a Frenchman, was the cause of their commencing to treat me with
greater cruelty than before.
At the moment of our capture the Iroquois were dying of hunger; so
that, in two or three days, they consumed all our provisions, and we
had no food during the rest of the way but from hunting, fishing, or
some wild roots, if any were found. Their want was so great that they
picked up on the shore a dead beaver already putrefying. They gave it
to me in the evening to wash in the river; but, its stench leading me
to believe that they did not want it, I threw it into the water. I was
paid for that by a severe penance.
I will not here relate all I had to suffer in that voyage. It is enough
to say that we had to carry our loads in the woods where there were no
roads, but only stones, shoots, holes, water, and snow, which had not
yet everywhere melted. We were barefooted, and were left fasting
sometimes till three or four o'clock in the afternoon, and often during
the whole day, exposed to the rain, and drenched with the waters of the
torrents and rivers which we had to cross.
When evening was come I was ordered to go for wood, to bring water, and
to cook when they had any provisions. When I did not succeed, or
misunderstood the orders which I received, blows were not spared; still
less when we met other barbarians going to fish or hunt. It was not
easy for me to rest at night, because they tied me to a tree, leaving
me exposed to the keen night air, which was still quite cold.
We at last arrived at their lake [Champlain]. We had to make other
canoes, in which I too had to do my part. After five or six days'
sailing we landed, and marched for three more.
The fourth day, which was the fifteenth of May, we arrived about the
twentieth hour [3 P.M.], and before having as yet taken any food, at a
river where some four hundred barbarians were gathered fishing. Hearing
of our approach, they came out to meet us. When about two hundred paces
from their cabins, they stripped off all my clothes, and made me march
ahead. The young men formed a line on each side, armed with sticks,
except the first one, who held a knife in his hand.
When I began my march this one stopped my passage, and, seizing my left
hand, cleft it open with his knife between the little finger and the
ring finger, with such force and violence that I thought he would lay
open my whole hand. The others then began to load me with blows till I
reached the stage which they had erected for our torture. Then I had to
mount on great pieces of bark, raised about nine palms high so as to
give the crowd an opportunity to see and insult us. I was all drenched
and covered with blood that streamed from every part of my body, and
exposed to a very cold wind that made it congeal immediately on my
skin. But I consoled myself, seeing that God granted me the favor of
suffering in this world some pain in place of what I was under
obligation, on account of my sins, to pay in the other with torments
incomparably greater.
The warriors came next, and were received by the people with great
ceremony, and regaled with the best of all that their fishing supplied.
They bade us sing. Judge whether we could do so, fasting, worn down by
marching, broken by their blows, and shivering from head to foot with
cold.
Shortly after, a Huron slave brought me a little Indian corn, and a
captain, who saw me all trembling with cold, at last, at my entreaty,
gave me back the half of an old summer cassock, all in tatters, which
served to cover rather than warm me.
We had to sing till the warriors went away, and were then left at the
mercy of the youths, who made us come down from the scaffold, where we
had been about two hours, to make us dance in their fashion; and,
because I did not succeed, nor indeed knew how, they beat me, pricked
me, plucked out my hair, my beard, etc.
They kept us five or six days in this place for their pastime, leaving
us at the discretion or indiscretion of every one. We were obliged to
obey even the children, and that in things unreasonable, and often
contradictory. "Sing!" cries one. "Hold your tongue!" says another. If
I obeyed the first, the latter tormented me. "Stretch out your hand; I
want to burn it." Another burned it because I did not extend it to
_him_. They commanded me to take fire between the fingers to put
in their pipes, full of tobacco, and then let it fall on the ground
purposely four or five times, one after another, to make me burn myself
picking it up each time.
These scenes usually took place at night. Towards evening the captains
cried in fearful voices around the cabins, "Gather, ye young men; come
and caress our prisoners!"
On this they flocked together, and assembled in some large cabin. There
the remnant of dress which had been given me was torn off, leaving me
naked. Then some goaded me with pointed sticks; some burned me with
firebrands or red-hot stones, while others used burning ashes or hot
coals. They made me walk around the fire on hot ashes, under which they
had stuck sharp sticks in the ground. Some plucked out my hair, others
my beard.
Every night, after making me sing, and tormenting me as above, they
spent eight or ten minutes in burning one of my nails or a finger. Of
the ten that I had I have now but one left whole, and even of that they
have torn out the nail with their teeth. One evening they burned a
nail; the next day the first joint; the day after, the second. By the
sixth time they burned almost six. To the hands they applied fire and
iron more than eighteen times; and during this torment I was obliged to
sing. They ceased torturing me only at one or two o'clock at night.
Then they usually left me tied to the ground in some spot exposed to
the rain, with no bed or blanket, but a small skin which did not cover
half my body, and often even without any covering; for they had already
torn up the piece of a cassock which had been given me. Yet, out of
compassion, they left me enough to cover what decency, even among them,
requires to be concealed. They kept the rest.
For a whole month I had to undergo these cruelties, and greater still,
but we remained only eight days in the first place. I never would have
believed that man could endure so hard a life.
One night that they were as usual torturing me, a Huron, taken prisoner
with me, seeing one of his companions escape torments by siding against
me, suddenly cried out, in the middle of the assembled throng, that I
was a person of rank, and a captain among the French. This they heard
with great attention; then, raising a loud shout in sign of joy, they
resolved to treat me still worse, and the next morning I was condemned
to be burnt alive, and to be eaten. They then began to guard me more
narrowly. The men and children never left me alone, even in the
necessities of nature, but came tormenting me to force me to return to
the cabin with all speed, fearing that I might take flight.
We left there the 26th of May, and four days after reached the first
village of this nation. In this march on foot, what with rain and other
hardships, I suffered more than I had yet done. The barbarian then my
keeper was more cruel than the first. I was wounded, weak, ill-fed,
half naked, and slept in the open air, bound to a stake or a tree,
shivering all night with cold and from the pain caused by my bonds.
At difficult places in the road my weakness called for help, but it was
refused; and even when I fell, renewing my wounds, they showered blows
on me again, to force me to march; for they believed that I did it
purposely to lag behind, and so escape.
One time, among others, I fell into a river, and was like to have
drowned. However, I got out, I know not how, and in this plight had to
march nearly six miles more till evening, with a very heavy burden on
my shoulders. They jeered at me and at my awkwardness in falling into
the water, and they did not omit, at night, to burn off one of my
nails.
We at last reached the first village of this nation, and here our
reception resembled the first, but was still more cruel. Besides blows
from their fists, and other blows, which I received in the most
sensitive parts of my body, they a second time slit open my left hand,
between the middle finger and the fore finger, and the bastinade was
such that I fell half dead on the ground. I thought I would lose my
right eye forever. As I did not rise, because I was unable to do so,
they continued to beat me, especially on the breast and head. I should
surely have expired beneath their blows had not a captain caused me to
be dragged by main strength upon a stage made, like the former one, of
bark. There they soon after cut off the thumb and mangled the fore
finger of my left hand. Meanwhile a great rain came, with thunder and
lightning, and they went away, leaving us exposed naked to the storm,
till some one, I know not who, took pity on us, and in the evening took
us into his cabin.
Here we were tormented with more cruelty and impudence than ever,
without leaving a moment's rest. They forced me to eat filth, and
burned some of my fingers and the rest of my nails. They dislocated my
toes, and ran a firebrand through one of them. I know not what they did
not do to me another time, when I pretended to faint, so as to seem not
to see an indecent action.
After glutting their cruelty here, they sent us into another village,
nine or ten miles further. Here they added to the torments of which I
have spoken that of hanging me up by my feet, either with cords or with
chains, which they had taken from the Dutch. By night I lay stretched
on the ground, naked and bound, according to their custom, to several
stakes, by the feet, hands, and neck. The torments which I had to
suffer in this state, for six or seven nights, were in such places, and
of such nature, that it is not lawful to describe them, nor could they
be read without blushing. I seldom closed my eyes those nights, which,
though the shortest of the year, seemed to me most long. "My God, what
will purgatory be?" This thought lightened my pains not a little.
In this way of living I had become so fetid and horrible that every one
drove me away like a thing of carrion, and they never came near me save
to torment me. Scarcely anyone would feed me, although I had not the
use of my hands, as they were extraordinarily swollen and putrid. Thus
I was still further tormented by hunger, which led me to eat Indian
corn raw, not without concern for my health, and made me find a relish
in chewing clay, although I could not easily swallow it.
I was covered with loathsome vermin, and could neither get rid of them
nor defend myself from them. In my wounds worms were born; more than
four fell out of one finger in one day....
I had an abscess in the right thigh, caused by blows and frequent
falls, which hindered me from all repose, and especially as I had only
skin and bone, and the earth, for bed. Several times the barbarians had
tried, but failed, to open it with sharp stones--not without great pain
to me. I was forced to employ as surgeon the renegade Huron who had
been taken with us. He, on what was supposed to be the eve of my death,
opened it for me with four knife-thrusts, and caused blood and matter
to issue from it in so great abundance, and with such stench, that all
the barbarians of the cabin were constrained to abandon it.
I desired and was awaiting death, though not without some horror of the
fire. Still I was preparing for it as best I could, and was commending
myself to the Mother of Mercy, who was, after God, the sole refuge of a
poor sinner forsaken by all creatures in a strange land, without a
language to make himself understood, without friends to console him,
without sacraments to strengthen him, and without any human remedy to
sweeten his ills.
The Huron and Algonquin prisoners (these are our barbarians), instead
of consoling me, were the first to torment me, in order to please the
Iroquois.
I did not see the good Guillaume [Cousture], except afterward, when my
life was spared me, and the boy who had been taken in my company was no
more with me. They had noticed that I had him say his prayers, and that
they did not favor. But they did not let him escape torments, for,
although he was no more than twelve or thirteen years old, they tore
out five of his nails with their teeth; and, on his arrival in the
country, they bound his wrists tightly with thongs, causing him the
severest pain--and all before me, to afflict me the more....
My days being thus filled up with sufferings, and my nights being spent
without repose, I counted in the month five days more than there were;
but, seeing the moon one night, I corrected my error. I was ignorant
why the savages so long deferred my death. They told me that it was to
fatten me before eating me; though they took no means to do so.
One day, at last, they assembled to despatch me. It was the nineteenth
of June, which I deemed the last of my life, and I begged a captain to
put me to death, if possible, otherwise than by fire; but another man
exhorted him to stand firm in the resolution already taken. The first
then told me that I was to die neither by fire nor by any other death.
I could not believe it, nor do I know whether he spoke in earnest; yet
finally it was as he said, because such was the will of God and of the
Virgin Mother....
The barbarians themselves marveled at this result, so contrary was it
to their intentions, as the Dutch have written to me. I was therefore
given, with all the usual ceremonies, to an old woman, to replace her
grandfather, formerly killed by the Hurons, but instead of having me
burned, as all desired, and had already resolved, she redeemed me from
their hands at the expense of some beads, which the French call
"porcelain" [wampum].
I live here in the midst of the shadows of death, hearing nothing
spoken of but murder and assassination. They have recently murdered one
of their own countrymen in his cabin, as useless and unworthy to live.
I have still something to suffer; my wounds are yet open, and many of
the barbarians look upon me with no kindly eye. But we cannot live
without crosses, and this is like sugar in comparison with the past.
The Dutch gave me hopes of my ransom, and that of the boy taken
prisoner with me. God's will be done in time and in eternity! My hope
will be still more confirmed, if you grant me a share in your holy
sacrifices and prayers, and those of our fathers and brethren,
especially of those who knew me in other days.
SECOND LETTER,
Dated "From New Amsterdam, the 31st of August, 1644."
I have found no one to carry the enclosed, so that you will receive it
at the same time as the present one, which will give you the news of my
deliverance from the hands of the barbarians, whose captive I was. I am
indebted for it to the Dutch, and they obtained it with no great
difficulty, for a moderate ransom, on account of the little value which
the Indians attached to me, from my unhandiness at everything, and
because they believed that I would never get well of my ailments.
I have been twice sold: first to the old woman who was to have me
burned, and next to the Dutch, dear enough, that is, for about fifteen
or twenty doppias [sixty to eighty dollars in gold].