"'Brothers!--We are now necessitated to _Life of Joseph Brant—Thayendanegea (Vol. I.) Including the Border Wars of the American Revolution and Sketches of the Indian Campaigns of Generals Harmar, St. Clair, and Wayne; And Other Matters Connected with the Indian Relations of the United States and Great Britain, from the Peace of 1783 to the Indian Peace of 1795

up our civil constitution, and run away and leave our farms and houses

behind us. This must not be. Since the King's wicked counselors will not

open their ears, and consider our just complaints and the cause of our

weeping, and have given the blow, we are determined to drive away the

King's soldiers, and to kill and destroy all those wicked men we find in

arms against the peace of the Twelve United Colonies upon this island. We

think our cause is just; therefore we hope God will be on our side. We do

not take up the hatchet and struggle for honor and conquest, but to

maintain our civil constitution and religious privileges, the very same

for which our forefathers left their native land and came to this country.

"[_A black belt._]

"'Brothers and Friends!--We desire you will hear and receive what we have

now told you, and that you will open a good ear and listen to what we are

now going to say. This is a family quarrel between us and Old England.

You, Indians, are not concerned in it. We don't wish you to take up the

hatchet against the King's troops. We desire you to remain at home, and

not join either side; but keep the hatchet buried deep. In the name and

behalf of all our people, we ask and desire you to love peace and maintain

it, and love and sympathize with us in our troubles; that the path may be

kept open with all our people and yours, to pass and re-pass without

molestation.

"'Brothers!--We live on the same ground with you. The same island is our

common birthplace. We desire to sit down under the same tree of peace with

you; let us water its roots and cherish its growth, till the large leaves

and nourishing branches shall extend to the setting sun, and reach the

skies.

"'Brothers, observe well!--What is it we have asked of you? Nothing but

peace, notwithstanding our present disturbed situation; and if application

should be made to you by any of the King's unwise and wicked ministers to

join on their side, we only advise you to deliberate with great caution,

and in your wisdom look forward to the consequences of a compliance. For

if the King's troops take away our property, and destroy us who are of the

same blood with themselves, what can you, who are Indians, expect from

them afterwards?

"[_A white belt._]

"'Brothers of the Six Nations!--When we perceived this island began to

shake and tremble along the Eastern shore, and the sun darkened by a black

cloud which arose from beyond the great water, we kindled up a great

council-fire at Philadelphia; and we sat around it until it burnt clear,

and so high that it illuminated this whole island. We renewed our hold

upon the old covenant chain, which united and strengthened our ancestors,

and which was near slipping out of our hands before we had kindled this

great council-fire at Philadelphia. We have now taken fast hold, nor will

we let it go without a mighty struggle, even unto death.

"'Brothers:--We are now Twelve Colonies, united as one man. We have but

one heart and one hand. Brothers, this is our Union Belt. By this belt,

we, the Twelve United Colonies, renew the old covenant chain by which our

forefathers, in their great wisdom, thought proper to bind us and you,

our brothers of the Six Nations, together, when they first landed at this

place; and if any of the links of this great chain should have received

any rust, we now brighten it, and make it shine like silver. As God has

put it into our hearts to love the Six Nations and their allies, we now

make the chain of friendship so strong, that nothing but an evil spirit

can or will attempt to break it. But we hope, through the favor and mercy

of the Good Spirit, that it will remain strong and bright while the sun

shines and the water runs.

"[_Delivered the Union belt._]

"'Brothers:--It is necessary, in order for the preservation of friendship

between us and our brothers of the Six Nations, and their allies, that a

free and mutual intercourse be kept up betwixt us. Therefore the Twelve

United Colonies, by this belt, remove every difficulty that may lie in the

great road that runs through the middle of our country; and we will also

clear up and open all the small roads that lead into the great one. We

will take out every thorn, briar, and stone, so that when any of our

brothers of the Six Nations, or their allies, have an inclination to see

and talk with any of their brethren of the Twelve United Colonies, they

may pass safely without being scratched or bruised. Brothers, the road is

now open for our brethren of the Six Nations and their allies, and they

may now pass and repass as safely and freely as the Twelve United Colonies

themselves; and we are further determined, by the assistance of God, to

keep our roads open and free for the Six Nations and their allies, as long

as this earth remains.

"[_Path belt._]

"'Brothers!--We have said we wish you Indians may continue in peace with

one another, and with us the white people. Let us be cautious in our

behavior toward each other at this critical state of affairs. This island

now trembles, the wind whistles from almost every quarter; let us fortify

our minds, and shut our ears against false rumors; let us be cautious what

we receive for truth, unless spoken by wise and good men. If any thing

disagreeable should ever fall out between us the Twelve United Colonies,

and you the Six Nations, to wound our peace, let us immediately seek

measures for healing the breach. From the present situation of our

affairs, we judge it wise and expedient to kindle up a small council-fire

at Albany, where we may hear each other's voice, and disclose our minds

more fully to one another.

"[_A small belt._]

"'Therefore we say. Brothers, take care--hold fast to your covenant chain.

You know our disposition towards you, the Six Nations of Indians, and your

allies. Let this our good talk remain at Onondaga, your central council

house. We depend upon you to send and acquaint your allies to the

northward, the seven tribes on the river St. Lawrence, that you have this

talk of ours at the great council-fire of the Six Nations. And when you

return, we invite your great men to come and converse farther with us at

Albany, where we intend to re-kindle the council-fire, which your and our

ancestors sat around in great friendship. _Brothers and friends!_

"'We greet you all,

FAREWELL.'"

[_The large belt of intelligence and declaration._]

Such was the talk transmitted to the Six Nations by the Commissioners from

Congress. The process of communication to the Indians, through

interpreters, is very slow. Every thing must be performed with great

deliberation, and the Indian language is composed of such lengthened

compounds, that the labor of delivering and translating a speech is

exceedingly tedious. The delivery of this talk from Congress occupied the

business hours of two days. At the close, Kanaghquaesa, one of the Chiefs,

replied:--

"Brothers,--We have sat round, and smoked our pipes at this our ancient

place of kindling up our council-fires. We have heard all you have said,

and have heard nothing but what is pleasant and good. As you have

communicated matters of great importance to us, we will sit down to-morrow

and deliberate coolly upon them; and the day following will give you

answers to every thing you have laid before us."

Having convened again on the 31st of August, Little Abraham, the Mohawk

Sachem, spoke, in answer to the Commissioners, as follows:--

"Brothers, Great Men deputed by the Twelve United Colonies, attend!--We

are this day called to meet you in council, in order to reply to what you

said to us. We hope we need not recapitulate the whole of your discourse.

We shall only touch upon each head. At our last conference in this house,

we promised to return you our answer the day but one following. We did not

do it, and we mean to make you an apology. We hope you have taken no

offence. We were not prepared by that time, and that was our reason.

Brothers, you informed us that there was a great council of sixty-five

members convened at Philadelphia, and that you were appointed by them to

deliver a talk to the Six Nations. It seems you, our brothers, having a

desire to rekindle a council-fire, took to your assistance the descendants

of Quedar, and have kindled up a council-fire that shall never be

extinguished. To which the Six Nations reply: This you have done by order

of the great Council at Philadelphia. We are glad to hear the news. It

rejoices our hearts, and it gives exceeding joy through all the Six

Nations.

"Brothers,--As you desired your belts might not be returned, but be

deposited at our central Council House, we shall only make use of them to

refresh our memories, and speak upon them as we go on with our answers.

Brothers, we shall not recite every particular, as we before mentioned.

You observed, when these commotions first began, a council of sixty-five

members convened together at Philadelphia; and you put us in mind of what

Cannassateego formerly said at Lancaster respecting the necessity of a

union among you. An old sachem, a brother of Cannassateego, is here

present, and remembers the words of his brother. You illustrated the

necessity and use of a union by one and twelve arrows. You said your

grandfathers had inculcated this doctrine into their children. You said,

that as the tree of peace was formerly planted at this place, you desired

that the Six Nations might come down, and sit under it, and water its

roots, till the branches should flourish and reach to heaven. This the

Six Nations say shall be done. Brothers, we need only remind you of a few

of the things you said to us, as you have them all written down. You

informed us, that by an ancient covenant with the King of England, you

were to enjoy the same privileges with the people on the other side of the

great waters, that for a long time you did enjoy the same privileges, by

which means you and your brethren over the water both became a great

people; that lately, by advice of evil counselors, you are much oppressed,

and had heavier packs put upon you than you could bear; that you have

frequently applied to be eased of your burthen, but could obtain no

redress; that finding this the case, you had thrown off the packs. The

Six Nations thank you for acquainting them with your grievances, and the

methods taken to obtain redress. You likewise informed them of what

resolutions you had formed in consequence of these matters.

"Brothers,--After stating your grievances, and telling us you had not been

able to obtain redress, you desired us to take no part, but bury the

hatchet. You told us it was a family quarrel; and therefore said, 'You

Indians, sit still, and mind nothing but peace.' Our great man, Col.

Johnson, did the same thing at Oswego; he desired us to sit still

likewise. You likewise desired us, that if application should be made to

us by any of the King's officers, we would not join them. Now, therefore

attend, and apply your ears closely. We have fully considered this matter.

The resolutions of the Six Nations are not to be broken or altered. When

they resolve, the matter is fixed. This, then, is the determination of the

Six Nations, not to take any part; but as it is a family affair, to sit

still and see you fight it out. We beg you will receive this as

infallible, it being our full resolution; for we bear as much affection

for the King of England's subjects on the other side the water, as we do

for you, born upon this island. One thing more we request, which is, that

you represent this in a true light to the delegates from all the Colonies,

and not vary; and that you observe the same regard for truth when you

write to the King about these matters for we have ears, and shall hear,

if you represent any thing in a wrong point of light. We likewise desire

you would inform our brothers at Boston of our determination.

"Brothers,--It is a long time since we came to this resolution. It is the

result of mature deliberation. It was our declaration to Col. Johnson. We

told him we should take no part in the quarrel, and hoped neither side

would desire it. Whoever applies first, we shall think in the wrong. The

resolutions of the Six Nations are not to be broken. Of the truth of this

you have a late instance. You know what the Shawanese have lately been

engaged in. They applied to us for assistance, but we refused them. [FN]

Our love for you has induced us not to meddle. If we loved you less, we

should have been less resolute."

* * * * *

[FN] In the affair of Col. Cresap and Logan, and the Indian war that

followed, the _Mohawks_ were not engaged. The Cayugas and Senecas were.

"Brothers,--You likewise informed us, that when you perceived this island

began to tremble, and black clouds to arise beyond the great water, you

kindled up a great fire at Philadelphia, a fire which shone bright and

clear to your utmost settlements; that you sat round that fire,

deliberating what measures to pursue for the common good; that while

sitting round it you recollected an ancient covenant made between your

fathers and ours when they first crossed the great water and settled here,

which covenant they first likened to a chain of iron. But when they

considered that iron would rust, they made a silver chain, which they were

always to rub and keep bright, and clear of spots. This they made so

strong, that an evil spirit could not break it. This friendship-chain you

have now renewed. This covenant is to continue to future generations. We

are glad you have thought proper to renew this covenant, and the whole

Six Nations now thank you. This covenant-belt you desire us to deposit at

our central council-house, that future generations may call to mind the

covenant now made between us. You may depend we shall send and inform all

our neighboring council-fires of the matters now transacted. We close,

with the whole Six Nations repeating their thanks that you have renewed

the covenant made between their forefathers and yours.

"Brothers, attend!--As you had renewed the ancient covenant, you thought

proper to open the path, and have a free communication with this place.

As the fire had for some time been put out, the path had got stopped up.

You removed all obstructions out of the great roads and paths, all stones

and briars; so that if any of us chose to travel the road, we should

neither meet with any obstruction, or hurt ourselves. Brothers, we thank

you for opening the road. You likewise informed us you were determined to

drive away, destroy, and kill all who appeared in arms against the peace

of the Twelve United Colonies. Brothers, attend. We beg of you to take

care of what you do. You have just now made a good path; do not so soon

defile it with blood. There are many round us. Caghnawagas, who are

friends to the king. Our path of peace reaches quite there. We beg all

that distance may not be defiled with blood. As for your quarrels to the

Eastward, along the sea-coasts, do as you please. But it would hurt us to

see those brought up in our own bosoms ill-used. In particular, we would

mention the son of Sir William Johnson. He is born among us, and is of

Dutch extraction by his mother. He minds his own affairs, and does not

intermeddle in public disputes. We would likewise mention our father, the

minister, who resides among the Mohawks, and was sent them by the King.

He does not meddle in civil affairs, but instructs them in the way to

heaven. He absolutely refuses to attend to any political matters, and

says they do not belong to him. They beg he may continue in peace among

them. The Mohawks are frequently alarmed with reports that their minister

is to be torn away from them. It would occasion great disturbance was he

to be taken away. The King sent him to them, and they would look upon it

as taking away one of their own body. Therefore they again request that

he may continue to live in peace among them. [FN]"

* * * * *

[FN] This Missionary was the Rev. Mr. Stewart, who afterward removed to

Upper Canada.

"Brothers,--After having informed us of the situation of affairs, and

having finished your business, you advised us to shut our ears against

false reports, and that we should not attend to flying stories, but to

what wise and good men should say; for which reason you had kindled up a

council-fire at this place, that we might always converse together, and

know the truth of things. Your brothers of the Six Nations say, 'Let it

be so; it shall be as you desire.' They thank you for this advice, and

desire you would use the same precautions; that you would shut your ears

to flying stories, but keep your eye upon the chief council, such as you

see now convened. The Six Nations desire you would always inform them

fully of what respects them. We have, for this purpose, opened our ears

and purified our minds, that we may always hear and receive what you have

to say with good and clean minds; and whenever we receive any important

intelligence, we shall always bring it to this council-fire.

"Brothers:--You delivered us this pipe; on one side the tree of peace, on

the other a council-fire; we Indians sitting on one side of the fire, and

the representatives of the twelve United Colonies upon the other. You have

desired that this pipe may be left at our central council-house, and that

the tree of peace may be planted, and that the branches may be so high as

to be visible to all our allies. Brothers, we thank you, and shall take

care to deposit this where you desire, and when we meet to deliberate upon

business, shall always use this as our council-pipe.

"Brothers, attend!--In the course of your speech you observed, we of the

Six Nations were a wise people, and saw a great way before us; and you

asked us, if you upon this island were conquered, what would become of

the Indians? You say you are uncertain of holding your possessions, and

that you do not know who may enjoy the product of your labor. Now,

therefore, Brothers, attend; you particularly, our Brothers of Albany; we

address ourselves particularly to you. Our Brothers of Albany have taken

two pieces of land from us without any reward, not so much as a single

pipe. We therefore desire you will restore them, and put us into peaceable

possession again. If you refuse to do this, we shall look upon the

prospect as bad; for if you conquer, you will take us by the arm, and pull

us all off. Now, therefore, as the twelve United Colonies have renewed

this covenant of peace, we beg that there may be no obstruction upon your

part, but that you would restore our lands to us; for which, as we said

before, you never paid us even a single pipe.

"Brothers:--You have now finished your business, and we have made short

replies. You have kindled up a council-fire of peace, and have planted a

tree of peace, according to ancient custom. We find that you have omitted

one thing, which is this:--According to our ancient custom, whenever a

council-fire was kindled up, and a tree of peace planted, there was some

person appointed to watch it. Now, as there is no person appointed to

watch this tree, we of the Six Nations take it upon us to appoint one. Let

it be the descendant of our ancient friend, Quedar. He has to consider

whether he will take the charge of it, and communicate to us whatever may

respect it. He that watches this council-fire is to be provided with a

wing, that he may brush off all insects that come near it, and keep it

clear. That is the custom at our central council-house. We have one

appointed for that purpose.

"Brothers:--As you have this day renewed the ancient covenant of

friendship, and have again brightened the ancient chain, renew likewise

another ancient custom respecting the regulation of trade. Let us have a

trade at this place, and likewise at Schenectady, as it was in former

times when we had hold of the old covenant. For then, Brothers, if our

people came down with only a few musquash skins, we went home with glad

hearts. Brothers, let it be so again. Let the twelve United Colonies take

this into consideration.

"[_A belt of ten rows of wampum._]"

Abraham, the Mohawk, having concluded, _Tiahogwando,_ an Oneida sachem,

succeeded him as follows:--

"Brothers:--This is all the Six Nations have to say at present. They would

just mention one thing more before they break up. The Six Nations look

upon this as a very good time to speak their minds, as here are the

representatives of the twelve United Colonies. The dispute between the

people of New-England and Penn seems to us to become a serious affair, and

therefore the Six Nations take upon them to speak their minds freely, as

they address the inhabitants of the whole continent. [FN] Many years ago,

at a council held in Pennsylvania, when Cannassateego, that has been

before mentioned, was present, Penn desired the Six Nations would sell

him that piece of land known by the name of Scanandanani, or Susquehannah.

The Indians of the Six Nations refused to sell it, saying, the great God

would not permit them. Therefore they made him a present of that land,

known by the name of Scanandanani. Penn received it, and made them

valuable presents. After this, Colonel Lydius, a gentleman employed by the

people of Boston, treated with some of the Indians to get that land from

them. But he never kindled up a council-fire upon the occasion. He spoke

to them whenever he met them; never with more than ten. From these he

pretended to make a purchase of that tract. Gov. Penn, also, at the great

treaty at Fort Stanwix, in the year 1768, desired that the land might be

his, and distributed among the Six Nations, Shawanese and Caughnawagas,

ten thousand dollars, for which they gave him a writing. This is an affair

with which all the Six Nations are acquainted, and any one would lie who

said they knew nothing about it. We have taken an opportunity to speak of

this matter now, as the mind of the whole continent is now here. . . ."

* * * * *

[FN] Referring to the long and bitter controversy between Connecticut

and Pennsylvania respecting the territory of Wyoming, of which more

hereafter.

At this point the proceedings were adjourned over to the next day, being

the 1st of September, when the Commissioners made the following reply:--

"Brothers of the Six Nations, attend!--We yesterday heard with pleasure

your answer to the twelve United Colonies, and we return thanks to the

great Governor of the universe that he has inclined your hearts to approve

and accept the brotherly love offered to you by the twelve United

Colonies. It makes us happy to hear so wise and brave a people as our

brothers of the Six Nations are, publicly declare their unalterable

resolution to maintain and support peace and friendship with the twelve

United Colonies. This, Brothers, you have said, and we sincerely believe

you. Brothers, we requested of you Indians of the Six Nations not to

interfere in our quarrels. We are not in the least doubtful of success,

as our cause is just. We will live or die like men. We can raise an army

of three hundred thousand fighting men, who are brave, and are determined

not to part with their civil and religious privileges. Therefore we now

repeat to you, Brothers of the Six Nations, take great care of the strong

friendship you have now made with the twelve United Colonies. Let that be

your care, and that only. Peace is what we wish to establish.

"Brothers of the Six Nations:--You yesterday told us, that as the roads

in your country were opened for you and your brothers of the twelve United

Colonies to pass and repass, you desired at the same time that we would

not stain the road with blood. Brothers, be assured we have no intention

at present to spill blood in your country, and we hope it never may

happen; and it never can, provided those wicked men, who are come so far

from home in order to disturb the peace of the twelve United Colonies, do

not appear in your country. But as we are determined to be free or die,

we must pursue them until we drive them from off this island, or until

they confirm our ancient privileges. Therefore, Brothers, rest assured,

whatever may happen between us and our enemies, we never will injure or

disturb the peace of the Six Nations, but preserve invariable the

friendship that is now established, even unto death.

"Brothers:--You also desired yesterday that some of your friends of our

blood should remain in peace, and particularly the missionary at Fort

Hunter, who did not concern himself with the affairs of this world, but

was earnestly engaged in conducting you to happiness, and instructing you

in the reverence due to the great God who governs the universe. Brothers,

such a man we love, and we are desirous of his remaining quiet and happy

with you. We are also desirous that all the other missionaries, that have

been engaged in the same good cause, may safely continue among you, and

instruct you in the Gospel, which will be the means of your happiness in

this world and the one to come.

"Brothers:--As we always looked upon you, Brothers of the Six Nations, to

be a wise and capable people in conducting business of every kind, we were

a little surprised to hear you say that no one was appointed by the twelve

United Colonies to attend and watch the fire that they have kindled up at

this place; when we have repeatedly told you that they had appointed five

persons, whose business it was to attend and preserve it bright and clear,

and that two of those five live in this town, who would take particular

care, and who had full authority from the twelve United Colonies, to keep

the flame bright and clear. Brothers, for fear you should not have

understood us fully, we again acquaint you that the twelve United Colonies

have authorized General Schuyler and Mr. Douw, both of this town, to keep

the fire burning, that it may illuminate the whole country of the Six

Nations, who may always see the way down to it, and sit in peace around

it.

"Brothers:--You yesterday desired that the trade may be opened at this

place and at Schenectady. We also wish it, and it will be done; so that

you may trade as you formerly did, and be able to return home with your

goods to your entire satisfaction.

"Brothers:--You yesterday mentioned some matters concerning land claimed

by the people of Albany, and also the land in dispute between Connecticut

and Gov. Penn. We now inform you that we are not authorized to transact

any business of that kind at present, but will represent the matter at the

Grand Congress at Philadelphia.

"Brothers:--We have now finished, and let you know the present that we

have from the twelve United Colonies is preparing for you, and when it is

ready we will acquaint you. Wagons shall be provided for you whenever you

are ready to set off for Schenectady."

Thus ended the business of the Commissioners with the Indians, more

amicably, to all appearance, than could reasonably have been anticipated,

when all the circumstances preceding and attending the negotiations are

taken into consideration. There was, however, the "unfinished business"

between the Indians and the municipality of Albany yet to be completed.

For this purpose a council was arranged for the day following, September

2d, and the Commissioners, on the part of the United Colonies, were again

invited to attend. The council was held in the Presbyterian meeting-house.

The preliminaries of form having been adjusted, the Committee of the Common

Council and citizens of Albany, delivered the following reply to the speech

of the Oneida sachem, on the 25th of August:--

"Brothers of the Six Nations:--We suppose it will not be insisted upon to

repeat the whole of your speech, as we conceive it unnecessary, and

therefore shall only take notice of the material parts.

"Brothers:--You said that you was glad to see us at this place on the

25th August, in consequence of our invitation; and that you was glad to

see that some sparks of the old council-fire yet remained, and that you

rejoiced, even to excess, to find it so.

"Brothers:--We thank you for your kind congratulations and salutations at

meeting us here, and rejoice in the opportunity you have given us at this

time, of meeting one another in friendship and peace, to talk of old times

and renew our ancient treaty.

"Brothers:--We are happy to find that you so readily accepted our request

to come and see us, and that you have had so much patience, and behaved

so orderly during your short stay among us.

"Brothers:--At the conference of our deputies with you at the German

Flats, they showed you some old belts of wampum, which you expressed a

desire to see. Here are those belts, and we hope even Time will not wear

them out. This is the Belt given by the Oneida Nation, and is the old

covenant between the whole Oneida Nation and _Gorah Quedar._ This is the

belt that was given by the Indian _Kayinguaraghtoh_ in behalf of the Six

Nations.

"Brothers attend:--In your speech, you farther observed that you had long

since taken a resolution to take no active part in the present contest for

liberty. We do not offer to censure you for your conduct; but admire your

wisdom, praise your pacific disposition, and hope you will have fortitude

to maintain and persevere in it.

"[_A belt._]

"Brothers:--You further said that the road to the westward, you heard by

the bird, was to be stopped up; this matter is beyond our limits. The

commissioners of the twelve United Colonies having spoken to you at large

about the roads, that they shall be left open, we entirely agree with

them in this; and therefore shall add nothing on this point, and return

the belt.

"Brothers:--You said further, and delivered us this belt; that you was

anxious about and concerned for your minister, Mr. Kirkland; and asked our

advice about his remaining among you, who we do not see you should be

deprived of without your consent, any more than the Mohawk tribe should

be deprived of their missionary. We highly approve of your concern for the

ministers of the Gospel, and your attachment for the pure precepts and

doctrine of Christianity. But if your minister is removed, we should fear

the consequence. It would certainly give occasion of jealousy to your

Brethren, the white people, that you Indians were not well disposed.

Therefore it is our ardent wish that they may all remain among you, as

your teachers and instructors in virtue, piety, and true religion; and we

hope you may benefit and profit by their instruction.

"[_A belt._]

"Brothers:--Before any commissioners were appointed by the twelve United

Colonies--from the disagreeable condition of our country, and the ancient

friendship and alliance subsisting between us, commenced in the days of

your ancestors and our forefathers, we took upon us, as the

representatives of the people of the city and county of Albany, to give

you an invitation to pay us a friendly visit, that we might have an

opportunity of seeing you here, at the place where the first fire was

kindled, that we might rake up the old ashes, and not suffer it to be

extinguished, but renew the old covenant chain, and make it shine with

brighter lustre.

"Brothers:--We are happy to find from your speech, that you still retain

that affection for us which a well-founded friendship will naturally

produce, and which we hope, from our conduct toward you, is not unmerited;

and we rejoice to find that you feel for our distresses, and lament the

unnatural quarrel of brethren, which you express so warmly by a desire of

an amicable settlement.

"Brothers:--Time will not permit us, at present, to mention to you, how,

and on what occasion, the first covenant was made between you and our

forefathers. They had never deserted you, but kept their covenants and

agreements with you, nor do we mean to act otherwise on our part.

"Brothers:--This covenant, afterwards improved upon, was confirmed between

you and us in the year 1665, one year after this country went over to the

crown of England. Since this, you have from time to time admitted into

your chain, the Tuscaroras, and most, if not all, the twelve United

Colonies.

"Brothers:--There are five gentlemen commissioners, appointed by the

twelve United Colonies, at the grand council in Philadelphia; and the

management of public affairs in the Indian department now belongs to them.

These gentlemen have informed you of the nature of the dispute between

Great Britain and this country; and testified their desire of keeping up

the council fire between us.

"Brothers:--We know it is customary, at the renewal of any covenants

between us, that a present should follow; we now make it known to you,

that the goods you will receive of the commissioners of the twelve United

Colonies are partly ours; we pay our proportionable part toward them, so

that what you receive of them is from us also. We are the same. There is

no distinction.

"Brothers:--If our memory do not fail us, we think that when we invited

two or three of each of our brethren of the Six Nations to come down here,

we also desired that you would acquaint us of what had passed in the

congress held at Oswego (which as yet we know nothing of.) You say,

indeed, you are glad we are peaceably inclined as well as Col. Johnson;

but you have told us nothing else of what had passed there, which we had

expected, and do wish that our brothers conceal nothing from us,

especially as you called God to witness for the truth of what you said.

"Brothers of the Six Nations, and you, the Mohawks in particular:--We

apprehend the bird Tsklelele has been busy again. He seems to be a

mischievous bird, and ought not to be nourished or entertained. In your

answer to the commissioners you addressed yourselves to the inhabitants

of Albany, complaining that they had taken from you two pieces of land

without giving you the value of a pipe of tobacco for them; and that you

desired they would restore you to the peaceable possession of them, and

that the commissioners would look into this matter and afford you relief.

The land you speak of we suppose to be Ticonderoga.

"Brothers:--This is a matter foreign to the business we met upon, (and we

are not authorised nor qualified to enter upon the subject, it is a

business that belongs to the corporation of Albany) yet as we may be

considered the representatives of the people at large, our entire silence

may be construed into guilt of the heavy charge fixed upon us. For your

satisfaction as well as of the audience, we will endeavor to show by a

few remarks that the accusation is groundless. The lands alluded to are

granted by the charter of Albany. We never heard that any of your nation

have been dispossessed or driven off those lands; but you hitherto have

and still enjoy those lands without the least interruption.

"Brothers:--As we observed before, the matter cannot properly come before

us, but belongs to another body; and therefore the application to us is

improper. However, give us leave to say, that, instead of complaining, we

think the Mohawks, if they considered their own interest and that of their

posterity, and would be candid, must acknowledge the truth of the fact,

and rejoice at this day, that they have had such faithful guardians and

trustees, for if it had not been so, who would have enjoyed those lands

now? There have been complaints concerning this matter before, and

inquiries into it before proper tribunals; and for your information, and

that of the curious, we refer to the proceedings of the House of Assembly

of this Colony, and also to the minutes taken on a conference between the

corporation of this city and yourselves, at which Sir William Johnson was

present, and therefore return you the belt."

After consultation, the Indians returned the following answer by

_Abraham,_ chief of the Mohawks:--

"Brothers of Albany:--We return you thanks for your speech, and that you

have informed us that the twelve United Colonies by their commissioners,

have opened all the roads; and we now take it for granted that the

communications at Fort Stanwix are not to be shut up, and that the New

England people never will do it. This, Brethren, has been the occasion of

some anxiety in the minds of the Six Nations.

"Brothers of the Six Nations, attend; _You also the people of Albany, and

you the twelve United Colonies by your commissioners:_--Last spring Col.

Johnson informed us that the New England people were near him to take him

prisoner. Upon which we, like people intoxicated, took up our guns and

ran to assist him, as he was our superintendent. But, Brethren, as it

happened in the manner before mentioned, we hope you will look upon it in

that light. We, the Six Nations, have now made and renewed our ancient

covenants. The proceedings just now mentioned have brought me down. I have

made a proper acknowledgment to the Six Nations, and now do the same to

you, and I hope you will raise me up again. The news I was just speaking

of, came not from a bird, but from your own people.

"Brothers of Albany, farther attend:--I shall only make a short reply to

your speech relating to the lands. Many agreeable things are therein. You

farther say, that you never heard that any of us were driven from those

lands. There is one thing which is not so agreeable. It is the Tskleleli.

You, Brothers, know how that matter is, and in case I was to answer that

part of your speech, it might perhaps draw us into an argument;--and as

you are not, as you say, the proper body to which we ought to have

applied, and as you have referred us to former proceedings, we shall

close.

"Brothers of Albany:--We the Six Nations now tell you, that it is at your

pleasure to call on us, and we will inform you of what passed in the

congress at Oswego."

Taking the hint that the Indians would say nothing except in due form, the

chairman of the committee immediately said:--

"Brothers of the Six Nations:--We are now ready to hear it, and should be

glad you would inform us."

The Mohawk chief then proceeded:--

"Brothers of Albany:--You sent for us to inform you of what passed at

Oswego;--but you have not, since we have been down, desired it. We have

been always ready; and as you have now asked us, we will now tell you,

and think it our duty, as we look upon it that God will punish us should

we conceal any thing from you.

"Brothers:--The transactions of that treaty were very public. The

Shawanese were there, and some from Detroit. Mr. Johnson told us, that the

fire kindled there was a fire of peace, that all the white people were the

king's subjects, and that it seemed they were intoxicated. Mr. Johnson

also told us, that the white people were all got drunk, and that God's

judgment hung over them, but did not know on which side it would fall. Mr.

Johnson farther told us, that the council-fire was kindled on account of

the present dispute, and desired us not to interfere, as they were

Brothers, and begged us to sit still and maintain peace. This is what

Colonel Johnson told us at that council-fire. He also said he had his eye

on Mr. Kirkland; that he was gone to Philadelphia and along the sea-coast;

that he was become a great soldier and a leader. Is this your minister?

says he. Do you think your minister minds your souls? No, by the time he

comes to Philadelphia, he will be a great warrior, and when he returns he

will be the chief of all the Five Nations.

"Brothers:--There were present five people of Detroit, five from

Caughnawaga, and two of the Shawanese. Col. Johnson told them, that by the

time he returned from Canada, they should have all their men there, and he

would then kindle a council-fire; and he would also desire them not to

take any part in this dispute, as it was a quarrel between brothers. Mr.

Johnson also told them that this council-fire was kindled upon peace, and

that it seemed, by reason of the white people's intoxication, that God's

judgment hung over them. He also told us that he was going to the Governor

of Canada, who was of a different opinion from him, but would talk with

him; and he farther said that he would tell the Caughnawaga Indians the

same he told us, and for that purpose desired that two of each nation

might go along, and hear it. He likewise desired us to consider which way

we would have our trade, whether up this river, or from Canada. He at the

same time assured us, that we should not suffer for want of goods, as we

were not concerned, nor had any hand in the present dispute. He also

mentioned something about the council-fires. He said there are two fires

which you shall keep your eyes upon, and if they call you down to Albany,

do not you go, for they will deceive you, and tell you a great many fine

stories. We are very glad that your language and Col. Johnson's so well

agrees."

Thus ended this grand council with the Six Nations, and the last council

ever held at Albany, with the great aboriginal confederacy which has been

denominated the Roman Republic of the Indian world.

* * * * *

No. III.

[Reference from Page 231.]

By Barry St. Leger, Esq.,

Commander-in-chief of a chosen body of troops from the grand army, as well

as an extensive corps of Indian allies from all the nations, &c., &c.

The forces entrusted to my command are designed to act in concert, and

upon a common principle, with the numerous armies and fleets which already

display, in every quarter of America, the power, justice, and, when

properly sought, the mercy of the King.

The cause in which the British arms are thus exerted, applies to the most

affecting interest of the human heart, and the military servants of the

Crown, at first called forth for the sole purpose of restoring the rights

of the constitution, now combine with love of their country and duty to

their sovereign, the other extensive incitements which spring from a due

sense of the general privileges of mankind. To the eyes and ears of the

temperate part of the public, and to the breast of suffering thousands in

the provinces, be the melancholy appeal, whether the present unnatural

rebellion has not been made a foundation for the completest system of

tyranny that ever God in his displeasure suffered for a time to be

exercised over a froward and stubborn generation. Arbitrary imprisonment,

confiscation of property, persecution and torture unprecedented in the

inquisitions of the Romish Church, are among the palpable enormities that

verify the affirmative. These are inflicted by Assemblies and Committees,

who dare to profess themselves friends to liberty, upon the most quiet

subjects, without distinction of age or sex, for the sole crime, often

for the sole suspicion, of having adhered in principle to the government

under which they were born, and to which by every tie, divine and human,

they owe allegiance. To consummate these shocking proceedings, the

profanation of religion is added to the most profligate prostitution of

common reason; the consciences of men are set at nought; and multitudes

are compelled, not only to bear arms, but also to swear subjection to an

usurpation they abhor.

Animated by these considerations; at the head of troops in the full powers

of health, discipline and valor, determined to strike when necessary, and

anxious to spare when possible; I by these presents invite and exhort all

persons, in all places where the progress of this army may point, and by

the blessing of God I will extend it far, to maintain such a conduct as

may justify me in protecting their lands, habitations, and families. The

intention of this address is to hold forth security, not depredation, to

the country.

To those whom spirit and principle may induce to partake the glorious task

of redeeming their countrymen from dungeons, and reestablishing the

blessings of legal government, I offer encouragement and employment; and

upon the first intelligence of their associations, I will find means to

assist their undertakings. The domestic, the industrious, the infirm, and

even the timid inhabitants, I am desirous to protect, provided they remain

quietly at their houses; that they do not suffer their cattle to be

removed, nor their corn or forage to be secreted or destroyed; that they

do not break up their bridges or roads; nor by any other acts, directly or

indirectly, endeavor to obstruct the operations of the king's troops, or

supply or assist those of the enemy.

Every species of provision brought to my camp will be paid for at an

equitable rate and in solid coin. If, notwithstanding these endeavors and

sincere inclinations to effect them, the frenzy of hostility should

remain, I trust I shall stand acquitted in the eyes of God and man, in

denouncing and executing the vengeance of the State against the willful

outcasts. The messengers of justice and of wrath await them in the field,

and devastation, famine, and every concomitant horror that a reluctant but

indispensable prosecution of military duty must occasion, will bar the way

to their return.

Barry St. Leger.

By order of the Commander-in-chief,

Will. Osb. Hamilton, Secretary.

No. IV.

[Reference from Page 241.]

The fury and cruelty of the Indians and Tories at and immediately after

the battle of Oriskany, is strongly set forth in the following affidavit,

the original of which is now in the office of the Secretary of State,

Albany. Dr. Younglove died about fifteen years since in the city of

Hudson. He was known to the author as a respectable man, though of strong

feelings and prejudices. Any statement of this kind, from a man of his

temperament, would be likely to receive a strong coloring, without,

however, any designed misstatement of facts.

"Moses Younglove, Surgeon of General Herkimer's brigade of militia,

deposeth and saith, that being in the battle of said militia above

Oriskany on the 6th of August last, toward the close of said battle he

surrendered himself a prisoner to a savage, who immediately gave him up to

a sergeant of Sir John Johnson's regiment; soon after which, a Lieutenant

in the Indian department came up in company with several other Tories,

when said Mr. Grinnis by name, drew his tomahawk at this deponent, and

with a deal of persuasion was hardly prevailed on to spare his life. He

then plundered him of his watch, buckles, spurs, &c.; and other Tories

following his example, stripped him almost naked with a great many

threats, while they were stripping and massacring prisoners on every side.

That this deponent, on being brought before Mr. Butler, Sen., who demanded

of him what he was fighting for; to which this deponent answered, he

fought for the liberty that God and Nature gave him, and to defend himself

and dearest connexions from the massacre of savages. To which Butler

replied, 'you are a damned impudent rebel;' and so saying, immediately

turned to the savages, encouraging them to kill him, and if they did not,

the deponent and the other prisoners should be hanged on a gallows then

preparing. That several prisoners were then taken forward toward the

enemy's head-quarters with frequent scenes of horror and massacre, in

which Tories were active as well as savages; and in particular one Davis,

formerly known in Tryon County on the Mohawk river. That Lieut. Singleton,

of Sir John Johnson's regiment, being wounded, entreated the savages to

kill the prisoners, which they accordingly did, as nigh as this deponent

can judge, about six or seven."

"That Isaac Paris, Esq., was also taken the same road, without receiving

from them any remarkable insult except stripping, until some Tories came

up, who kicked and abused him; after which the savages, thinking him a

notable offender, murdered him barbarously. That those of the prisoners

who were delivered up to the provost guards, were kept without victuals

for many days, and had neither clothes, blankets, shelter, nor fire; while

the guards were ordered not to use any violence in protecting the

prisoners from the savages, who came every day in large companies with

knives, feeling of the prisoners, to know who were fattest. That they

dragged one of the prisoners out of the guard with the most lamentable

cries; tortured him for a long time; and this deponent was informed, by

both Tories and Indians, that they ate him, as appears they did another

on an island in Lake Ontario, by bones found there nearly picked, just

after they had crossed the lake with the prisoners. That the prisoners who

were not delivered up, were murdered in considerable numbers from day to

day round the camp, some of them so nigh that their shrieks were heard.

That Capt. Martin, of the batteaux-men, was delivered to the Indians at

Oswego, on pretence of his having kept back some useful intelligence. That

this deponent during his imprisonment, and his fellows, were kept almost

starved for provisions; and what they drew, were of the worst kind, such

as spoiled flour, biscuit full of maggots, and mouldy, and no soap

allowed, or other method of keeping clean; and were insulted, struck, &c.

without mercy by the guards, without any provocation given. That this

deponent was informed by several sergeants orderly on Gen. St. Leger, that

twenty dollars were offered in general orders for every American scalp.

"MOSES YOUNGLOVE.

"JOHN BARCLAY,

_Chairman of Albany Committee._"

* * * * *

No. V.

[Reference from Page 249.]

The following is a copy of the letter addressed to Colonel Gansevoort,

while under duress in the camp of General St. Leger, by Colonel Bellinger

and Major Frey:--

"9 _o'clock P. M.--Camp before Fort Stanwix,_

6_th August,_ 1777.

"Sir,

"It is with concern we are to acquaint you that this was the fatal day in

which the succors, which were intended for your relief, have been attacked

and defeated, with great loss of numbers killed, wounded, and taken

prisoners. Our regard for your safety and lives, and our sincere advice

to you is, if you will avoid inevitable ruin and destruction, to surrender

the fort you pretend to defend against a formidable body of troops and a

good train of artillery, which we are witnesses of; when, at the same

time, you have no farther support or relief to expect. We are sorry to

inform you that most of the principal officers are killed; to wit--Gen.

Herkimer, Colonels Cox, Seeber, Isaac Paris, Captain Graves, and many

others too tedious to mention. The British army from Canada being now

perhaps before Albany, the possession of which place of course includes

the conquest of the Mohawk river and this fort."

The following endorsement is on the back of this letter. "Gen. St. Leger,

on the day of the date of this letter, made a verbal summons of the fort

by his Adjutant General and Colonel Butler, and who then handed this

letter; when Colonel Gansevoort refused any answer to a verbal summons,

unless made by General St. Leger himself, but at the mouth of his cannon."

* * * * *

{FN} [In regard to the battle of Oriskany, to which the preceding note

refers, the author has received an interesting anecdote from Mr. John S.

Quackenboss, of Montgomery county, which would have formed a page in the

chapter containing an account of that battle had it come to hand in

season. The father of the author's correspondent, Abraham D. Quackenboss,

resided in the Mohawk country on the south side of the river, at the

breaking out of the war. Living as it were among the Indians, bespoke

their language as well as he did his own. Among them he had a friend,

named Bronkahorse--who, though an Indian, had been his playmate, and they

had served in the French war together under Sir William Johnson. When the

revolutionary troubles came on, Bronkahorse called upon Quackenboss, and

endeavored to persuade him to espouse the cause of the King--assuring him

that their Great Father could never be conquered. Quackenboss refused,

and they parted--the Indian, however, assuring him that they were parting

as friends, although, since they had fought in one war together, he had

hoped they might do so in the other. Mr. Q. saw no more of his friend

until the battle of Oriskany. During the thickest of the fight, he heard

his name called, in the well-known voice of Bronkahorse, from behind a

large tree near by. He was himself sheltered by a tree; but in looking

out for the warrior, he saw his Indian friend. The latter now importuned

Quackenboss to surrender, assuring him of kind treatment and protection,

but also assuring him that unless he did so, he would inevitably be

killed. Quackenboss refused, and the Indian thereupon attempted to kill

him. For a moment they watched each other, each endeavoring to obtain

the first and best chance of a shot. The Indian at length fired, and his

ball struck the tree, but had nearly been fatal. Springing from his

covert upon the Indian, Quackenboss then fired, and his friend

Bronkahorse fell dead on the spot. It was the belief of Mr. Quackenboss

that the loss of the enemy during that battle equaled that of Herkimer's

command. The latter suffered the most severely in the early part of the

engagement--the enemy in the latter part]

No. VI.

[Reference from Page 252.]

"_Camp before Fort Stanwix, August_ 9, 1777

"Sir,

"Agreeable to your wishes, I have the honor to give you on paper, the

message of yesterday, though I cannot conceive, explicit and humane as it

was, how it could admit of more than one construction. After the defeat

of the reinforcement and the fate of all your principal leaders, in which,

naturally, you built your hopes; and having the strongest reason from

verbal intelligence, and the matter contained in the letters which fell

into my hands, and knowing thoroughly the situation of General Burgoyne's

army, to be confident you are without resource--in my fears and tenderness

for your personal safety from the hands of Indians enraged for the loss of

some of their principal and most favourite leaders--I called to council

the chiefs of all the nations; and after having used every method that

humanity could suggest to soften their minds, and lead them patiently to

bear their own losses by reflecting on the irretrievable misfortune of

their enemies, I at last labored the point my humanity wished for; which

the chiefs assured me of the next morning, after a consultation with each

nation, that evening, at their fire-places. Their answer, in its fullest

extent, they insisted should be carried by Col. Butler, which he has given

in the most categorical manner. You are well acquainted that Indians never

send messages without accompanying them with menaces on non-compliance,

that a civilized enemy would never think of doing; you may rest assured,

therefore, that no insult was meant to be offered to your situation, by

the king's servants, in the message they peremptorily demanded to be

carried by Col. Butler.

"I am now to repeat what has been told you by my Adjutant General; 'That

provided you will deliver up your garrison, with every thing as it stood

at the moment the first message was sent, your people shall be treated

with every attention that a humane and generous enemy can give.'

"I have the honor to be, Sir,

Your most obedient, humble Servant,

Barry St. Leger,

"_Brig. Gen. of his Majesty's forces._

"P. S.--I expect an immediate answer, as the Indians are extremely

impatient; and if this proposal is rejected, I am afraid it will be

attended with very fatal consequences, not only to you and your garrison,

but the whole country down the Mohawk river--such consequences as will be

very repugnant to my sentiments of humanity, but after this entirely out

of my power to prevent.

"Barry St. Leger.

"Col. Gansevoort, _commanding Fort Stanwix._"

* * * * *

No. VII.

[Reference from Page 253.]

"_Camp before Fort Stanwix. August_ 13, 1777.

"_To the Inhabitants of Tryon County._

"Notwithstanding the many and great injuries we have received in person

and property at your hands, and being at the head of victorious troops,

we most ardently wish to have peace restored to this once happy country;

to obtain which, we are willing and desirous, upon a proper submission on

your parts, to bury in oblivion all that is past, and hope that you are,

or will be, convinced in the end that we were your friends and good

advisers, and not such wicked, designing men, as those who led you into

error, and almost total ruin. You have, no doubt, great reason to dread

the resentment of the Indians, on account of the loss they sustained in

the late action, and the mulish obstinacy of your troops in this garrison,

who have no resource but in themselves; for which reasons the Indians

declare, that if they do not surrender the garrison without further

opposition, they will put every soul to death,--not only the garrison, but

the whole country,--without any regard to age, sex, or friends; for which

reason it is become your indispensable duty, as you must answer the

consequences, to send a deputation of your principal people, to oblige

them immediately to what, in a very little time, they must be forced,--the

surrender of the garrison; in which case we will engage, on the faith of

Christians, to protect you from the violence of the Indians.

"Surrounded as you are by victorious armies, one half (if not the greater

part) of the inhabitants friends to government, without any resource,

surely you cannot hesitate a moment to accept the terms proposed to you

by friends and well-wishers to the country.

"John Johnson, }

D. W. Claus, } Superintendents.

John Butler, }"

* * * * *

No. VIII.

[Reference from Page 256.]

"_By the Hon._ Benedict Arnold, _Esq. Major-general and Commander-in-chief

of the army of the United States of America on the Mohawk River._

"Whereas a certain Barry St. Leger, a Brigadier-general in the service of

George of Great Britain, at the head of a banditti of robbers, murderers,

and traitors, composed of savages of America, and more savage Britons,

(among whom is the noted Sir John Johnson, John Butler, and Daniel Glaus,)

have lately appeared in the frontiers of this State, and have threatened

ruin and destruction to all the inhabitants of the United States. They

have also, by artifice and misrepresentation, induced many of the ignorant

and unwary subjects of these States to forfeit their allegiance to the

same, and join with them in their atrocious crimes, and parties of

treachery and parricide.

"Humanity to those poor deluded wretches, who are hastening blindfold to

destruction, induces me to offer them, and all others concerned, (whether

Savages, Germans, Americans, or Britons,) PARDON, provided they do, within

ten days from the date hereof, come in and lay down their arms, sue for

protection, and swear allegiance to the United States of America.

"But if, still blind to their own interest and safety, they obstinately

persist in their wicked courses, determined to draw on themselves the just

vengeance of heaven and of this exasperated country, they must expect no

mercy from either.

"B. Arnold, M. G.

"_Given under my hand, Head-quarters, German Flats,_ 20_th

August,_ 1777."

* * * * *

No. IX

[Reference from Page 274.]

_Extracts from Mad. de Riedesel's account of her Residence in America._

When the army broke up, on the 11th of September, 1777, I was at first

told that I must remain behind; but on my repeated entreaties, and as

other ladies had been permitted to follow the army, the same indulgence

was extended to me. We advanced by short journeys, and went through many

toils; yet I would have purchased at any price the privilege thus granted

to me of seeing daily my husband. I had sent back my baggage, and only

kept a small bundle of summer dresses. In the beginning, all went well;

we thought that there was little doubt of our being successful, and of

reaching "the promised land;" and when, on the passage across the Hudson,

general Burgoyne exclaimed, "Britons never retrograde," our spirits rose

mightily. I observed, however, with surprise, that the wives of the

officers were beforehand informed of all the military plans; and I was so

much the more struck with it, as I remembered with how much secrecy all

dispositions were made in the armies of Duke Ferdinand during the

seven-years' war. [FN] Thus the Americans anticipated our movements, and

expected us wherever we arrived; and this of course injured our affairs.

On the 19th of September, an action took place, which ended to our

advantage; but we were, in consequence, obliged to halt at a place called

Freeman's Farm. I witnessed the whole action, and knowing that my husband

was among the combatants, I was full of anxiety and care, and trembled at

every shot--and nothing escaped my ear. I saw a great number of wounded,

and, what was still worse, three of them were brought into the house where

I was. One of them was a Major Harnage, whose wife was with us; the

second, a lieutenant, whose wife was of our acquaintance; and the third,

a young English officer called Young. The Major occupied, with his wife,

a room close by to that where I was. He had received a shot through his

body, and suffered exquisite pains. A few days after our arrival, I heard

groans in another room, and was told that the young officer, whom I have

just mentioned, was lying there, and that his recovery was very doubtful.

I took much interest in him, as a family of his name had shown me great

kindness during my stay in England. He expressed a great desire to see his

benefactress, for so he called me. I went into his room, and found him on

a thin bed of straw, for he had lost his whole baggage. He was eighteen

or nineteen years old, an only son, and the nephew of the same Mr. Young

I had known in England. He lamented for his parents' sake, but said

nothing of his sufferings. He had lost much blood, and the surgeon advised

him to submit to the amputation of his wounded leg; but he would not

consent to it, though the limb had become gangrenous. I sent him pillows

and blankets, and my maids gave him their mattress. I took more and more

care of him, and visited him daily; for which he thanked me a thousand

times. At last the amputation took place; but it was too late, and he died

a few days afterwards. My room being close to his, and the walls very

thin, I heard his last moans.

* * * * *

[FN] Lieutenant Auburey made a similar remark when the army was yet in

Canada: "We have more dangerous enemies at home than any we have to

encounter abroad; for all the transactions that are to take place, are

publicly known long before they are officially given out in orders; and

I make no doubt but you will be as much surprised as the General

(Burgoyne) was, when I tell you that the whole operations of the ensuing

campaign were canvassed for several days before he arrived, who, no

doubt, supposed, that in giving out his orders, he was communicating an

entire secret."--[Montreal, May 20th, 1777. Vol. i, p. 203.]

Great secrecy, observes the same writer, was, on the contrary, observed

in the American army.

I occupied a tolerably good house, and had a large room. The door and the

wainscot were of cedar, a sort of wood which is found in abundance here;

insects are driven away by the smell of it when it is burned, and it is

often used for that purpose; but some people believe that the smoke of it

is injurious to the nerves, and principally to females in certain

situations.

For our farther march, I had caused a calash to be made for me, in which

I could take, not only my children, but also my two female attendants; and

thus I followed the army in the midst of the troops, who were in great

spirits, and sang and longed for victory. We marched through endless

forests, and a beautiful district, though deserted by the inhabitants, who

ran away at our approach to reinforce General Gates's army. They are

naturally soldiers and excellent marksmen, and the idea of fighting for

their country and their liberty increased their innate courage. My husband

was encamped with the rest of the army; being myself an hour's ride

behind the army, I went every morning to pay him a visit in the camp, and

sometimes I dined there with him, but generally he took his dinner in my

quarters. There were daily skirmishes with the enemy, generally of little

importance. But my husband could never sleep without his clothes. The

weather having already grown rougher, Colonel Williams of the artillery

thought our mutual visits were rather too fatiguing for us, and proposed

to have a house built for me with a chimney, which should not cost more

than five or six guineas, and which I could uninterruptedly inhabit. I

accepted of his offer; and the building, which was to be about twenty feet

square, was begun. Such a dwelling is called a block-house, for which logs

nearly of equal diameter are put together; and if the interstices are

filled up with clay, it is not only very solid, but very warm. I was to

take possession of it on the next day; and I rejoiced in it the more, as

the nights were damp and cold, and it being close to the camp, my husband

would be able to be with me. But all at once, on the 7th of October, he

marched away with the whole staff, and then our misfortunes began. While

breakfasting with my husband, I heard that something was under

contemplation. General Fraser, and, I believe, Generals Burgoyne and

Phillips, were to dine with me on that day. I remarked much movement in

the camp. My husband told me that it was a mere reconnaissance; and as

this was frequent, I was not much alarmed at it. On my way homeward I met

a number of Indians, armed with guns, and clad in their war dresses.

Having asked them where they were going, they replied, "War, war;" by

which they meant that they were about to fight. This made me very uneasy,

and I had scarcely got home before I heard reports of guns; and soon the

fire became brisker, till at last the noise grew dreadful, upon which I

was more dead than alive. About 3 o'clock in the afternoon, instead of

guests whom I had expected to dine with me, I saw one of them, poor

General Fraser, brought upon a hand-barrow, mortally wounded. The table,

which was already prepared for dinner, was immediately removed, and a bed

placed in its stead for the General. I sat, terrified and trembling, in a

corner. The noise grew more alarming, and I was in a continual tremor

while thinking that my husband might soon also be brought in, wounded like

General Fraser. That poor General said to the surgeon, "tell me the truth;

is there no hope?" His wound was exactly like that of Major Harnage; the

ball had passed through his body, but, unhappily for the General, he had

that morning eaten a full breakfast, by which the stomach was distended,

and the ball, as the surgeon remarked, passed directly through it. I heard

often, amidst his groans, such words as these, "_O bad ambition! poor

General Burgoyne! poor Mistress Fraser._" Prayers were read, after which he

desired that General Burgoyne should be requested to have him buried the

next day, at six o'clock in the evening, on a hill where a breast-work had

been constructed. I knew not what to do; the entrance and all the rooms

were full of sick, in consequence of the dysentery which prevailed in the

camp. At length, toward evening, my husband came; and from that moment my

affliction was much soothed, and I breathed thanks to God. He dined with

me and the aids-de-camp in great haste, in an open space in the rear of

the house. We poor females had been told that our troops had been

victorious; but I well saw, by the melancholy countenance of my husband,

that it was quite the contrary. On going away, he took me aside to tell

me every thing went badly, and that I should prepare myself to depart, but

without saying any thing to any body. Under the pretense of removing the

next day to my new lodgings, I ordered the baggage to be packed up. Lady

Ackland's tent was near ours. She slept there, and spent the day in the

camp. On a sudden she received news that her husband was mortally wounded

and taken prisoner. She was much distressed; we endeavored to persuade her

that the wound was not so dangerous, but advised her to ask permission to

join her husband, to take care of him in his sickness. She was much

attached to him, though he was rude and intemperate; yet he was a good

officer. She was a lovely woman. I divided the night between her whom I

wished to comfort, and my children who were asleep, but who, I feared,

might disturb the poor dying General. He sent me several messages to beg

my pardon for the trouble he thought he gave me. About 3 o'clock I was

informed that he could not live much longer, and as I did not wish to be

present at his last struggle, I wrapped my children in blankets, and

retired into the entrance hall. At 8 o'clock in the morning he expired.

* * * * *

Orders had already been issued that the army should break up immediately

after the funeral, and our calashes were ready. I was unwilling to depart

sooner. Major Harnage, though hardly able to walk a step, left his bed,

that he might not remain in the hospital, upon which a flag of truce had

been erected. When he saw me thus in the midst of danger, he drove my

children and female attendants into the vehicle, and told me that I had

not a moment to lose. I begged to be permitted to remain a little longer.

"Do what you please," replied he; "but your children I must at least

save." This touched my most tender feelings; I sprang into the carriage,

and at 8 o'clock we departed.

Profound silence had been recommended to us; large fires were lighted, and

many tents were left untouched, to conceal our movement from the enemy.

We proceeded on our way the whole night. Frederica was afraid, and began

to cry; I was obliged to press a handkerchief to her mouth.

We were halted at six o'clock in the morning, to our general amazement.

General Burgoyne ordered the artillery to be drawn up in a line; and to

have it counted. This gave much dissatisfaction, as a few marches more

would have ensured our safety. My husband was exhausted by fatigue, and

took a seat in the calash, where my maids made room for him; and he slept

for three hours upon my shoulder. In the mean time Captain Willoe brought

me his pocket-book, containing bank notes, and Captain Geismar, a

beautiful watch, a ring, and a well provided purse, requesting me to keep

them, which I promised to do to the last. At length we recommenced our

march; but scarcely an hour had elapsed before the army was again halted,

because the enemy was in sight. They were but two hundred in number, who

came to reconnoiter, and who might easily have been taken had not General

Burgoyne lost all his presence of mind. The rain fell in torrents. Lady

Ackland had caused her tent to be fixed up, I again suggested to her the

propriety of rejoining her husband, to whom she might be of great service

in his present situation. Yielding to my advice, she sent a message to

General Burgoyne, through his aid-de-camp Lord Petersham, to beg his

permission to leave the army. I told her that she need only insist upon

it, and she would certainly succeed. The Rev. Mr. Brudenel accompanied

her, and they went together in a boat, with a flag of truce, to the enemy.

There is a well-known and fine engraving of that event. I afterward met

with lady Ackland at Albany, when her husband was almost entirely

recovered; and both thanked me for my advice. On the 9th, it rained

terribly the whole day; nevertheless we kept ourselves ready to march. The

savages had lost their courage, and they walked off in all directions. The

least untoward event made them dispirited, especially when there was no

opportunity for plunder.

* * * * *

We reached Saratoga about dark, which was but half an hour's march from

the place where we had spent the day. I was quite wet, and was obliged to

remain in that condition for want of a place to change my apparel. I

seated myself near the fire, and undressed the children, and we then laid

ourselves upon some straw. I asked General Phillips, who came to see how

I was, why we did not continue our retreat, my husband having pledged

himself to cover the movement, and to bring off the army In safety. "My

poor lady," said he, "you astonish me. Though quite wet, you have so much

courage as to wish to go farther in this weather. What a pity it is that

you are not our commanding general! He complains of fatigue, and has

determined upon spending the night here, and giving us a supper." It is

very true that General Burgoyne liked to make himself easy, and that he

spent half his nights in singing and drinking, and diverting himself with

the wife of a commissary, who was his mistress, and who was as fond of

Champaign as himself. I refreshed myself at 7 o'clock the next morning,

(the 10th of October,) with a cup of tea, and we all expected that we

should soon continue our march. General Burgoyne had given orders to set

fire to General Schuyler's fine buildings and mills at Saratoga, for the

purpose of securing our retreat. An English officer brought me some good

soup, and insisted that I should partake of it. After this, we continued

our march; but only for a short time. There was much misery and disorder

in the army. The commissaries had forgotten to distribute provisions,

though we had an abundance of cattle. I saw more than thirty officers, who

complained bitterly of hunger. I gave them coffee and tea, and every thing

eatable that I had in my calash.

* * * * *

Our calashes remained in readiness to depart. Every body advised a

retreat, and my husband pledged himself to effect that movement, if no

time was lost. But General Burgoyne, who had been promised an Order, if

he should effect his junction with General Howe, could not be persuaded to

it, and lost every thing by his dilatoriness. About 2 o'clock we heard

again a report of muskets and cannon, and there was much alarm and bustle

among our troops. My husband sent me word that I should immediately retire

into a house which was not far off. I got into my calash with my children;

and when we were near the house, I saw, on the opposite bank of the

Hudson, five or six men, who aimed at us with their guns. Without knowing

what I did, I threw my children into the back part of the vehicle, and

laid myself upon them. At the same moment the fellows fired, and broke the

arm of a poor English soldier, who stood behind us, and who, being already

wounded, sought a shelter. Soon after our arrival a terrible cannonade

began, and the fire was principally directed against the house, where we

had hoped to find a refuge, probably because the enemy inferred, from the

great number of people who went towards it, that this was the

head-quarters of the Generals, while, in reality, none were there except

women and crippled soldiers. We were at last obliged to descend into the

cellar, where I laid myself in a corner near the door. My children put

their heads upon my knees. An abominable smell, the cries of the children,

and my own anguish of mind, did not permit me to close my eyes during the

whole night. On the next morning the cannonade begun anew, but in a

different direction. I advised my fellow-sufferers to withdraw, for a

while, from the cellar, in order to give time to clean it, for we should

otherwise injure our health. On an inspection of our retreat, I discovered

that there were three cellars, spacious and well vaulted. I suggested that

one of them should be appropriated to the use of the officers who were

most severely wounded, the next to the females, and the third, which was

nearest to the staircase, to all the rest of the company. We were just

going down, when a new thunder of cannon threw us again into alarm. Many

persons, who had no right to enter, threw themselves against the door. My

children were already at the bottom of the staircase, and every one of us

would probably have been crushed to death, had I not put myself before

the entrance and resisted the intruders. Eleven cannon-balls passed

through the house, and made a tremendous noise. A poor soldier, who was

about to have a leg amputated, lost the other by one of these balls. All

his comrades ran away at that moment, and when they returned, they found

him in one corner of the room in the agonies of death. I was myself in the

deepest distress, not so much on account of my own dangers, as of those to

which my husband was exposed, who, however, frequently sent me messages,

inquiring after my health. Major Harnage's wife, a Mrs. Reynell, the wife

of the good lieutenant who had, on the preceding day, shared his soup with

me, the wife of the commissary, and myself, were the only officers' wives

at present with the army. We sat together, deploring our situation, when

somebody having entered, all my companions exchanged looks of deep sorrow,

whispering at the same time to one another. I immediately suspected that

my husband had been killed. I shrieked aloud; but was immediately told

that nothing had happened to my husband, and was given to understand, by

a sidelong glance, that the Lieutenant had been killed. His wife was soon

called out, and found that the Lieutenant was yet alive, though one of his

arms had been shot off, near the shoulder, by a cannon-ball. We heard his

groans and lamentations during the whole night, which were dreadfully

re-echoed through the vaulted cellars; and in the morning he expired. My

husband came to visit me during the night, which served to diminish my

sadness and dejection in some degree. On the next morning we thought of

making our cellar a more convenient residence. Major Harnage and his wife,

and Mrs. Reynell, took possession of one corner, and transformed it into

a kind of closet by means of a curtain. I was also to have a similar

retreat; but I preferred to remain near the door, that I might escape more

easily in case of fire. I had straw put under my mattresses, and on these

I laid myself with my children; and my female servants slept near us.

Opposite to us were three officers, who, though wounded, were determined

not to remain behind if the army retreated. One of them was Captain Green,

aid-de-camp to General Phillips, and a very amiable and worthy gentleman..

All three swore they would not depart without me in case of a sudden

retreat, and that each of them would take one of my children on his horse.

One of my husband's horses was constantly in readiness for myself. Mr.

de Riedesel thought often of sending me to the American camp, to save me

from danger; but I declared that nothing would be more painful to me than

to live on good terms with those with whom he was fighting; upon which he

consented that I should continue to follow the army. However, the

apprehension that he might have marched away repeatedly intruded itself

into my mind; and I crept up the staircase, more than once, to confirm or

dispel my fears; and when I saw our soldiers near their watch-fires, I

became more calm, and could even have slept.

* * * * *

The want of water continuing to distress us, we could not but be extremely

glad to find a soldier's wife so spirited as to fetch some from the river,

an occupation from which the boldest might have shrunk, as the Americans

shot every one who approached it. They told us afterwards that they spared

her on account of her sex.

I endeavored to dispel my melancholy, by continually attending to the

wounded. I made them tea and coffee, for which I received their warmest

acknowledgments. I often shared my dinner with them. One day a Canadian

officer came creeping into our cellar, and was hardly able to say that he

was dying with hunger. I felt happy to offer him my dinner, by eating

which he recovered his health and I gained his friendship. On our return

to Canada I became acquainted with his family.

I also took care of Major Bloomfield, who was wounded by a musket-ball,

which passed through both his cheeks, knocked out his teeth and injured

his tongue. He could retain nothing in his mouth, and soup and liquids

were his only nourishment. Fortunately we had some Rhenish wine, and in

the hope that the acidity would contribute to heal his wound, I gave him

a bottle, of which he took a little now and then, and with such effect

that he was soon cured. I thus acquired a new friend, and enjoyed some

happiness in the midst of cares and sufferings, which otherwise would have

weighed heavily upon my spirits. On one of these mournful days, General

Phillips, wishing to pay me a visit, accompanied my husband, who came once

or twice daily, at the risk of his life; and seeing our situation, and

observing the entreaties I made to my husband not to be left behind, in

case the army should suddenly break up, and my reluctance to fall into the

hands of the enemy, he plead my cause, and said, on retiring "I would not,

for ten thousand guineas, see this place again. I am heart-broken with

what I have seen."

All our companions, however, did not deserve so much commiseration. We had

some in our cellars who ought not to have been there, and who afterwards,

when we were prisoners, were in perfect health, and walked about quite

erect, and strutted as much as they could. We remained six days in this

doleful retreat. At last a capitulation was talked of, in consequence of

having lost, by useless delays, the opportunity of effecting our retreat.

A cessation of hostilities took place, and my husband, who was quite

exhausted by fatigue, could now, for the first time, sleep quietly in a

little chamber, while I retired with my children and the maid-servants

into the adjoining room. Towards one o'clock a person came and asked to

speak with him. I was very reluctant to awaken him at that hour of the

night; and I soon observed that the errand did not much please him, for

he immediately sent the messenger back to the head-quarters, and laid

himself down again, out of humor. Soon after this General Burgoyne sent

for all the Generals and field-officers to attend a council of war early

next morning, when he proposed to break the capitulation, in consequence

of some groundless information he had received. It was, however, decided

that this step was neither advisable nor practicable; and this

determination was very fortunate for us, as the Americans told us

after-wards, that, had we broken the treaty, we should all have been cut

to pieces. This they could easily have done, as our army was reduced to

four or five thousand men, while we had given them time to raise theirs

to twenty thousand. On the morning of the 16th, however, my husband was

obliged to repair to his post, and I to my cellar.

On the 17th of October the capitulation was carried into effect. The

Generals waited upon the American General Gates, and the troops

surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and laid down their arms. The

time had now come for the good woman, who had risked her life to supply

us with water, to receive the reward of her services. Each of us threw a

handful of money into her apron; and she thus received more than twenty

guineas. At such a moment at least, if at no other, the heart easily

overflows with gratitude.

* * * * *

When I drew near the tents, a good-looking man advanced towards me, and

helped the children from the calash, and kissed and caressed them; he then

offered me his arm, and tears trembled in his eyes. "You tremble," said

he; "do not be alarmed, I pray you." "Sir," cried I, "a countenance so

expressive of benevolence, and the kindness which you have evinced towards

my children, are sufficient to dispel all apprehension." He then ushered

me into the tent of General Gates, whom I found engaged in friendly

conversation with Generals Burgoyne and Phillips. General Burgoyne said

to me: "You can now be quiet, and free from all apprehension of danger."

I replied that I should indeed be reprehensible if I felt any anxiety when

our General felt none, and was on such friendly terms with General Gates.

All the Generals remained to dine with General Gates. The gentleman who

had received me with so much kindness, came and said to me, "You may find

it embarrassing to be the only lady in such a large company of gentlemen;

will you come with your children to my tent, and partake of a frugal

dinner, offered with the best will?" "By the kindness you show to me,"

returned I, "you induce me to believe that you have a wife and children."

He informed me that he was General Schuyler. He regaled me with smoked

tongues, which were excellent, with beefsteaks, potatoes, fresh butter,

and bread. Never did a dinner give so much pleasure as this. I was easy,

after many months of anxiety; and I read the same happy change in those

around me. That my husband was out of danger, was a still greater cause

of joy. After our dinner, General Schuyler begged me to pay him a visit

at his house near Albany, where he expected that General Burgoyne would

also be his guest. I sent to ask my husband's directions, who advised me

to accept the invitation. As we were two days' journey from Albany, and

it was now near five o'clock in the afternoon, he wished me to endeavor

to reach, on that day, a place distant about three hours ride. General

Schuyler carried his civilities so far as to solicit a well-bred French

officer to accompany me on that first part of my journey.

* * * * *

On the next day, we reached Albany, where we had so often wished

ourselves; but we did not enter that city, as we hoped we should, with a

victorious army. The reception, however, which we met with from General

Schuyler, his wife and daughters, was not like the reception of enemies,

but of the most intimate friends. They loaded us with kindness; and they

behaved in the same manner towards General Burgoyne, though he had ordered

their splendid establishment to be burnt, and without any necessity as it

was said. But all their actions proved, that at the sight of the

misfortunes of others they quickly forgot their own. General Burgoyne was

so much affected by this generous deportment, that he said to General

Schuyler, "You are too kind to me, who have done you so much injury."

"Such is the fate of war," replied he; "let us not dwell on this subject."

We remained three days with that excellent family, and they seemed to

regret our departure.

* * * * *

The following account of a visit to the field of Saratoga, on the fiftieth

Anniversary of that battle, viz: October 17, 1827, was written immediately

afterward for the use of the author of the present work. The writer, the

venerable Samuel Woodruff, Esq. of Windsor, (Conn.) it need not be added,

was a participator in the battle:--

Windsor, Conn. Oct. 31, 1827.

My Dear Sir,--

You may remember when I had the pleasure to dine with you at New-York, on

the 14th inst. I had set out on a tour to Saratoga, to gratify a desire I

felt, and which had long been increasing, to view the battle-grounds at

that place, and the spot on which the royal army under the command of

General Burgoyne surrendered to General Gates on the 17th of October,

1777.

I thought it would add something to the interest of that view to me, to be

there on the 17th, exactly half a century after that memorable event took

place. You will excuse me for entering a little into the feelings of Uncle

Toby respecting Dendermond, in the compressed and hastily written journal

I kept of my tour, especially as you will take into consideration that I

had the honor to serve as a volunteer under General Gates part of that

campaign, and was in the battle of the 7th of October.

I take the liberty to inclose to you an extract of that part of my journal

which embraces the principal object of my tour.

Oct. 17th.--After a short stop in Troy, took another stage for

Saratoga;--at Lansingburgh, a neat and handsome village, about three miles

from Troy, crossed the Hudson on a covered bridge of excellent

workmanship, over to Waterford, (Old Half Moon Point,) another rich and

flourishing village. Arrived at Fish creek in Saratoga at half past 2

P. M. through a beautiful, well-cultivated interval of alluvial land on

the west side of the Hudson--every thing from Albany to this place wears

the appearance of wealth and comfort. Put up at Mr. Barker's tavern. After

dinner viewed the ruins of the British fortifications and head-quarters

of Gen. Burgoyne. He kept his quarters for several days at a house, now

standing and in good repair, about a mile north of Fish creek, on the west

side of the road, owned by Mr. Busher, an intelligent farmer about

seventy-five years of age. While Burgoyne held his head-quarters at this

house, Baron Reidesel, of the royal army, obtained leave of the

Commander-in-chief to place his lady the Baroness and their three small

children under the same protection;--these were also accompanied by lady

Ackland and some other ladies, wives of British officers. At that time

some of the American troops were stationed on the east bank of the Hudson,

opposite the house, in fair view of it, and within cannon-shot distance.

Observing considerable moving of persons about the house, the Americans

supposed it the _rendezvous_ of the British officers, and commenced a

brisk cannonade upon it. Several shot struck and shattered the house. The

Baroness with her children fled into the cellar for safety, and placed

herself and them at the north-east corner, where they were well protected

by the cellar wall. A British surgeon by the name of Jones, having his leg

broken by a cannon ball, was at this time brought in, and laid on the

floor of the room which the Baroness and the other ladies had just left.

A cannon ball entered the house near the north-east corner of the room,

a few inches above the floor, and passing through, broke and mangled the

other leg of the poor surgeon. Soon after this he expired. Mr. Busher

very civilly conducted me into the room, cellar, and other parts of the

house, pointing out the places where the balls entered, &c. From hence I

proceeded to, and viewed with very great interest, the spot where Gen.

Burgoyne, attended by his staff, presented his sword to Gen. Gates; also,

the ground on which the arms, &c., of the royal army were stacked and

piled. This memorable place is situated on the flat, north side of Fish

creek, about forty rods west of its entrance into the Hudson, and through

which the Champlain canal now passes.

Contiguous to this spot is the N. W. angle of old Fort Hardy, a military

work thrown up and occupied by the French, under Gen. Dieskau, in the year

1755. The lines of intrenchment embrace, as I should judge, about fifteen

acres of ground. The outer works yet retain the appearance of a strong

fortification, bounded south on the north side of Fish creek, and east on

the west bank of the Hudson. Human bones, fragments of fire-arms, swords,

balls, tools, implements, broken crockery, &c. &c., are frequently picked

up on this ground.

In excavating the earth for the Champlain canal, which passes a few rods

west of this fort, such numbers of human skeletons were found as render

it highly probable this was the cemetery of the French garrison.

About twenty or thirty rods west of the aqueduct for the canal over Fish

creek, stood Gen. Schuyler's mills, which were burned by order of Gen.

Burgoyne.

Gen. Schuyler's dwelling-house also, and his other buildings, standing on

a beautiful area a little south-east of the mills on the south side of the

creek, suffered the same fate. The mills have been rebuilt and are now in

operation, at the same place where the former stood. The grandson of Gen.

Schuyler now lives in a house erected on the site of the former dwelling

of his father--a covered bridge across the creek adjoining the mills.

I cannot, in this place, omit some short notices of Gen. P. Schuyler. It

seems he was commander-in-chief of the northern army until the latter part

of August, 1777, at which time he was superseded by Gen. Gates.

I remember at that time there was some excitement in the public mind, and

much dissatisfaction expressed on account of that measure; and with my

limited means of knowledge, I have never been able to learn what good

reason induced his removal. Few men in our country at that time ranked

higher than Gen. Schuyler in all the essential qualities of the patriot,

the gentleman, the soldier, and scholar. True to the cause of liberty, he

made sacrifices which few were either able or willing to bear. The

nobility of soul he possessed, distinguished him from ordinary men, and

pointed him out as one deserving of public confidence.

At the surrender of the royal army, he generously invited Gen. Burgoyne,

his suite, and several of the principal officers, with their ladies, to

his house at Albany; where, at his own expense, he fed and lodged them for

two or three weeks with the kindest hospitality.

This is the man, who, a few days before, had suffered immense loss in his

mills and other buildings at Fish creek, burned by order of the same

Burgoyne who had now become his guest.

Respecting Gen. Gates, I will only say, _finis coronet opus._

Oct. 18th.--At 7 A. M. started on foot to view some other and equally

interesting places connected with the campaign of 1777. Three miles and a

half south of Fish creek, called at the house of a Mr. Smith, in which

Gen. Fraser died of wounds received in the battle of the 7th October, and

near which house, in one of the British redoubts, that officer was buried.

This house then stood by the road on the west margin of the intervale, at

the foot of the rising ground. A turnpike road having since been

constructed, running twenty or thirty rods east of the old road, the

latter has been discontinued, and Mr. Smith has drawn the house and placed

it on the west side of the turnpike.

Waiving, for the present, any farther notices of this spot, I shall

attempt a concise narrative of the two hostile armies for a short period

anterior to the great battle of the 7th of October.

The object of the British General was to penetrate as far as Albany, at

which place, by concert, he was to meet Sir Henry Clinton, then with a

fleet and army lying at New-York. In the early part of September, Gen.

Burgoyne had advanced with his army from Fort Edward, and crossed the

Hudson with his artillery, baggage wagons, &c., on a bridge of boats, and

intrenched the troops on the highlands in Saratoga. On the 19th of

September they left their intrenchments, and moved south by a slow and

cautious march toward the American camp, which was secured by a line of

intrenchments and redoubts on Behmus's heights, running from west to east

about half a mile in length, terminating at the east end on the west side

of the intervale.

Upon the approach of the royal army, the American forces sallied forth

from their camp, and met the British about a mile north of the American

lines. A severe conflict ensued, and many brave officers and men fell on

both sides. The ground on which this battle was fought was principally

covered with standing wood. This circumstance somewhat embarrassed the

British troops in the use of their field artillery, and afforded some

advantage to the Americans, particularly the riflemen under the command

of the brave Col. Morgan, who did great execution. Night, which has so

often and so kindly interposed to stop the carnage of conflicting hosts,

put an end to the battle. Neither party claimed a victory. The royal army

withdrew in the night, leaving the field and their slain, with some of

their wounded, in possession of the Americans. The loss of killed and

wounded, as near as could be ascertained, was, on the part of the British,

600; and on that of the Americans, about 350. The bravery and firmness of

the American forces displayed this day, convinced the British officers of

the difficulty, if not utter impossibility of continuing their march to

Albany. The season for closing the campaign in that northern region was

advancing--the American army was daily augmenting by militia, volunteers,

and the "two months men," as they were then called. The fear that the two

royal armies might effect their junction at Albany, aroused the

neighboring states of New England, and drew from New Hampshire,

Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Vermont, a large body of determined

soldiers. Baum's defeat at Bennington had inspired them with new hopes

and invigorated their spirits.

Under these circumstances, inauspicious to the hostile army, the British

commander-in-chief summoned a council of war; the result of which was to

attempt a retreat across the Hudson to Fort Edward. Gen. Gates,

apprehending the probability of this measure, seasonably detached a

portion of his force to intercept and cut off the retreat, should that be

attempted.

Many new and unexpected difficulties now presented themselves. The boats

which had served the British army for a bridge, being considered by them

as of no further use, had been cut loose, and most of them floated down

the river. The construction of rafts sufficient for conveying over their

artillery and heavy baggage, would be attended with great danger as well

as loss of time. The bridges over the creeks had been destroyed; great

quantities of trees had been felled across the roads by order of the

American General; and another thing, not of the most trifling nature, Fort

Edward was already in possession of the Americans. In this perplexing

dilemma the royal army found themselves completely _check-mated._ A

retreat, however, was attempted, but soon abandoned. Situated as they now

were, between two fires, every motion they made was fraught with danger

and loss. They retired to their old entrenched camp.

Several days elapsed without any very active operations on either side.

This interval of time was, however, improved by the royal army in

preparations to make one desperate effort to force the line of the

American camp, and cut their way through on their march to Albany. The

American army improved the meantime in strengthening their outer works,

arranging their forces, and placing the _Continentals_ on the north side of

the intrenchments, where valiant men were expected; thus preparing to

defend every point of attack; Morgan, with his riflemen, to form the left

flank in the woods.

During these few days of "dreadful preparation," information daily arrived

in our camp, by deserters and otherwise, that an attack would soon be made

upon the line of our intrenchments at Behmus's heights, near the

head-quarters of Gen. Gates.

The expected conflict awakened great anxiety among the American troops,

but abated nothing of that sterling intrepidity and firmness which they

had uniformly displayed in the hour of danger; all considered that the

expected conflict would be decisive of the campaign at least, if not of

the war in which we had been so long engaged. Immense interests were at

stake. Should Gen. Burgoyne succeed in marching his army to Albany, Gen.

Clinton, without any considerable difficulty, would there join him with

another powerful English army, and a fleet sufficient to command the

Hudson from thence to New-York. Should this junction of force take place,

all the states east of the Hudson would be cut off from all efficient

communication with the western and southern states.

In addition to this there were other considerations of the deepest

concern. The war had already been protracted to a greater length of time

than was expected on either side at the commencement. The resources of the

country, which were at first but comparatively small in respect to those

things necessary for war, began to fail; the term of enlistment of many

of the soldiers had expired.

We had no public money, and no government to guarantee the payment of

wages to the officers and soldiers, nor to those who furnished supplies

for the troops. Under these discouraging circumstances it became extremely

difficult to raise recruits for the army. During the year 1776 and the

fore part of '77, the Americans suffered greatly by sickness, and were

unsuccessful in almost every rencontre with the enemy. Men's hearts, even

the stoutest, began to fail. This was indeed the most gloomy period of the

war of the revolution.

On the 7th of October, about 10 o'clock, A. M. the royal army commenced

their march, and formed their line of battle on our left, near Behmus's

heights, with Gen. Fraser at their head. Our pickets were driven in about

one o'clock P. M. and were followed by the British troops on a quick

march to within fair musket shot distance of the line of our

entrenchments. At this moment commenced a tremendous discharge of cannon

and musketry, which was returned with equal spirit by the Americans.

For thirty or forty minutes the struggle at the breastworks was maintained

with great obstinacy. Several charges with fixed bayonets were made by the

English grenadiers with but little effect. Great numbers fell on both

sides. The ardor of this bloody conflict continued for some tune without

any apparent advantage gained by either party. At length, however, the

assailants began to give way, preserving good order in a regular but slow

retreat--loading, wheeling, and firing, with considerable effect. The

Americans followed up the advantage they had gained, by a brisk and

well-directed fire of field-pieces and musketry. Col. Morgan with his

riflemen hung upon the left wing of the retreating enemy, and galled them

by a most destructive fire. The line of battle now became extensive, and

most of the troops of both armies were brought into action. The principal

part of the ground on which this hard day's work was done, is known by the

name of "Freeman's farms." It was then covered by a thin growth of

pitch-pine wood without under brush, excepting one lot of about six or

eight acres, which had been cleared and fenced. On this spot the British

grenadiers, under the command of the brave Major Ackland, made a stand,

and brought together some of their field artillery; this little field

soon became literally "the field of blood." These grenadiers, the flower

of the royal army, unaccustomed to yield to any opposing force in fair

field, fought with that obstinate spirit which borders on madness. Ackland

received a ball through both legs, which rendered him unable to walk or

stand. This occurrence hastened the retreat of the grenadiers, leaving the

ground thickly strewed with their dead and wounded.

The battle was continued by a brisk running fire until dark. The victory

was complete; leaving the Americans masters of the field. Thus ended a

battle of the highest importance in its consequences, and which added

great lustre to the American arms. I have seen no official account of the

numbers killed and wounded; but the loss on the part of the British must

have been great, and that on the part of the Americans not inconsiderable.

The loss of general officers suffered by the royal army was peculiarly

severe. But to return to the Smith house. I made known to the Smith family

the object of my calling upon them; found them polite and intelligent, and

learned from them many interesting particulars respecting the battle of the

7th of October. For several days previous to that time Gen. Burgoyne had

made that house his head-quarters, accompanied by several general officers

and their ladies, among whom were Gen. Fraser, the Baron and Baroness

Reidesel, and their children.

The circumstances attending the fall of this gallant officer have

presented a question about which military men are divided in opinion. The

facts seem to be agreed, that soon after the commencement of the action,

Gen. Arnold, knowing the military character and efficiency of Gen. Fraser,

and observing his motions in leading and conducting the attack, said to

Col. Morgan, "that officer upon a grey horse is of himself a host, and

must be disposed of. Direct the attention of some of the sharp-shooters

among your riflemen to him." Morgan, nodding his assent to Arnold,

repaired to his riflemen, and made known to them the hint given by Arnold.

Immediately upon this, the crupper of the grey horse was cut off by a rifle

bullet, and within the next minute another passed through the horse's

mane, a little back of his ears. An aid of Fraser noticing this, observed

to him, "Sir, it is evident that you are marked out for particular aim;

would it not be prudent for you to retire from this place?" Fraser

replied, "my duty forbids me to fly from danger;" and immediately received

a bullet through his body. A few grenadiers were detached to carry him to

the Smith house.

Having introduced the name of Arnold, it may be proper to note here, that

although he had no regular command that day, he volunteered his service,

was early on the ground, and in the hottest part of the struggle at the

redoubts. He behaved, (as I then thought,) more like a madman than a cool

and discreet officer. Mounted on a brown horse, he moved incessantly at a

full gallop back and forth, until he received a wound in his leg, and his

horse was shot under him. I happened to be near him when he fell, and

assisted in getting him into a litter to be carried to head-quarters.

Late in the evening Gen. Burgoyne came in, and a tender scene took place

between him and Fraser. Gen. Fraser was the idol of the British army, and

the officer on whom, of all others, Burgoyne placed the greatest reliance.

He languished through the night, and expired at 8 o'clock the next

morning. While on his death-bed he advised Burgoyne, without delay, to

propose to Gen. Gates terms of capitulation, and prevent the further

effusion of blood; that the situation of his army was now hopeless; they

could neither advance nor retreat. He also requested that he might be

buried in the _great redoubt_--his body to be borne thither between sunset

and dark, by a body of the grenadiers, without parade or ceremony. This

request was strictly complied with.

After viewing the house to my satisfaction, I walked up to the place of

interment. It is situated on an elevated piece of ground, commanding an

extensive view of the Hudson, and a great length of the beautiful

interval on each side of it. I was alone; the weather was calm and serene.

Reflections were awakened in my mind which I am wholly unable to describe.

Instead of the bustle and hum of the camp, and _confused_ noise of the

battle of the warrior, and the shouts of victory which I here witnessed

fifty years ago, all was now silent as the abodes of the dead. And indeed

far, far the greatest part of both those armies who were then in active

life at and near this spot, are now mouldering in their graves, like that

valiant officer whose remains are under my feet,--"their memories and

their names lost,"--while God, in his merciful Providence, has preserved

my life, and after the lapse of half a century has afforded me an

opportunity of once more viewing those places which force upon my mind

many interesting recollections of my youthful days.

Oct. 19th.--On my return down the river from Albany to New-York, in the

steamboat "North America," I had leisure and opportunity for reflecting

upon the immense wealth and resources of the state of New-York--greater

I believe, at this time than that of any other two states in the Union.

It would be hazarding nothing to say, that this single state possesses

more physical power, and more of the "sinews of war," than were employed

by the whole thirteen states through the war of the revolution. This,

among other considerations, led me to the reflection how honorable it

would be to the state, and how deserving of the occasion, that a monument

be erected at or near the place where the royal army surrendered by

capitulation on the 17th of October, 1777, in commemoration of an event

so important in our national history. The battle of the 7th of October

may be considered, in its effects and consequences, as the termination

of the war, with as much propriety as that of Bunker's Hill was the

commencement of it.

I am. Sir,

Very respectfully yours,

SAMUEL WOODRUFF.

William L. Stone, Esq.

End of vol. I.

Life of Joseph Brant—Thayendanegea (Vol. I.) Including the Border Wars of the American Revolution and Sketches of the Indian Campaigns of Generals Harmar, St. Clair, and Wayne; And Other Matters Connected with the Indian Relations of the United States and Great Britain, from the Peace of 1783 to the Indian Peace of 1795 · 第 19 / 19 章

"'Brothers!--We are now necessitated to rise, and forced to fight, or give