MINISINK AND THE CHEMUNG RIVER
Brant now proceeded to the loyalist rendezvous at Niagara,
but his restless spirit would not allow him to remain
idle. He was soon intent on forwarding a design of
far-reaching import, in the prosecution of which he hoped
to receive the assistance of the western tribes. He held
intercourse with the Delawares and the Shawnees, and
planned a joint campaign with them to take place during
the winter months. The Western Indians were to make an
attack on the borders of Virginia, while he would lead
an expedition into the heart of the colony of New York.
This bold enterprise, however, was fated to miscarry.
Word came that Governor Hamilton, the British commander
of Fort Detroit, had been overpowered by Colonel George
Clark, in February, on the Wabash river. Hamilton, who
had captured Fort Vincennes there, had for some time been
endeavouring to interest the western tribes in the British
cause; but, on July 5, 1778, Clark had captured the town
of Kaskaskia in the Illinois country, and, after a forced
march from that place to the Wabash with his Virginia
militia, had appeared at Fort Vincennes and compelled
Hamilton to surrender. The blow was a severe one and
robbed the western tribes of their courage; they were so
discomfited, indeed, that they would not venture into
the country of the enemy. Balked in his purpose, Brant
was forced to remain inactive at headquarters.
During the spring of 1779 the whole struggle in America
was rather bare of events. The raids against Wyoming and
Cherry Valley had roused the indignation of the Congress
of the United States, and it had turned its attention
energetically to the Indian races who were opposed to
its rule. They must be crushed at all hazards. On February
25 Congress had voted that means should be taken to bring
aid to those settlements which had been suffering from
the Indians. A campaign of vengeance into the homeland
of the Six Nations was to be the crowning effort of the
year. This was the plan. A numerically strong force was
to operate under the command of General Sullivan. Sullivan
was to move up from Pennsylvania, and along the Susquehanna
until he reached the Tioga river. At the same time,
General James Clinton was to advance from the north,
meeting his brother officer by the way. The two divisions
should then follow the bed of the Chemung river, and
sweep mercilessly upon the villages of the Senecas and
Cayugas.
Clinton was at Canajoharie Castle on June 16. With
difficulty he crossed the twenty-mile portage to Lake
Otsego, and by the end of the month was able to tell
General Sullivan that he was ready for the last stage of
the journey. Sullivan, on the other hand, was making no
attempt to hasten. He moved forward at a leisurely pace,
and Clinton grew very impatient at the delay. Even Brant
marvelled at Sullivan's inaction. The War Chief knew only
too well that when the two rebel forces met the struggle
to save the homes of his people would be difficult.
At this juncture the great Mohawk lay with a considerable
body of warriors at Grassy Brook. He had learned that
Minisink in the Shawangunk Mountains close to the New
Jersey line was left unguarded, and decided to fall upon
it. Taking sixty redskins and twenty-seven white men
apparelled as Indians, he advanced so stealthily that
his approach was unnoticed. During the night of July 19
he surprised the town, burnt it to the ground, and carried
off prisoners and booty.
Orange county, in which Minisink was situated, was at
once in a state of tumult. The local militia flocked
together, and were eager to follow hard after their daring
foe. Some thought it more prudent to stay at home, but
the majority wished immediately to take up the chase.
The matter was settled when Major Meeker sprang on his
horse, waved his sword, and cried with vehemence: 'Let
the brave men follow me, the cowards may stay behind.'
With this, the ill-advised settlers picked up the trail
of the redskins and started in pursuit. A body of scouts
who were slightly in the lead emerged, after various
exciting adventures, upon the broad hills that skirt the
Delaware river. Below them they could see the Indians
twining in and out among the trees. The red men were
evidently making for a shallow place where they might
ford the stream.
To the colonials this seemed a stroke of good fortune.
They would dash down the hill and dispute Brant's passage
of the river. Acting on the impulse, they swung confidently
along, only to find themselves outgeneralled. No sooner
had they sunk from sight in the forest than Brant had
artfully changed his march. He slipped through a deep
ravine and came out on the enemy's rear. Then he chose
his own position for an ambush. The Orange county men,
looking high and low for the Indians, at length came to
a halt, when to their dismay they found that the enemy
were posted in an unlooked-for quarter. There, in
concealment behind them, lay Brant's force. The War Chief
now issued from among his redskins, and made overtures
to the opposing force. He advised them to surrender
without offering resistance; if they did so he would see
that no harm befell them. Should the battle begin, he
added, he might be unable to restrain his followers. The
only answer which came was a hurtling bullet that clipped
a hole through the covering of his belt. In an instant
Brant had faced about and disappeared under cover.
Straightway the enemy bore down at break-neck speed upon
the tree-sheltered lair of the Indians. In wading through
a narrow brook that obstructed their advance, their ranks
became disordered, and Brant made effective use of the
situation. His voice rose in a war-whoop and his warriors
sprang into motion. After delivering one sharp, destructive
volley, they seized their tomahawks and surged into the
midst of their foe. From an hour before noon until sundown,
sheltered by trees and rocks, both sides fought stubbornly.
At last the whites gave way, and the battle closed with
appalling slaughter. Of the retreating remnant thirty
survived, while the bodies of many of their comrades were
left upon the field of battle. Of those who sought safety
by swimming the Delaware, a number were killed in the
water by the Indians, who fired upon them as they struggled
towards the opposite bank.
After the fight, as Brant traversed the blood-stained
field he bent over the wounded form of Gabriel Wisner,
who was a magistrate of Orange county. The fallen man,
though suffering excruciating pain, was still able to
speak, but the chieftain saw that he was dying. There
were wolves in the forest, and these would soon visit
the scene of carnage. To bear Wisner from the field would
avail nothing. For a moment the War Chief debated what
he should do. Then, turning the attention of the wounded
man in another direction, he poised his hatchet. In a
flash it had smitten the skull of the dying magistrate
and his misery was at an end. In this act as in others
Brant showed that his contact with civilization had not
freed him from the basic instincts of his savage nature.
Few white men could have performed such a deed even on
the field of battle with so much calmness.
Brant now returned to the border country and, together
with Sir John Johnson, drew up a plan of defence. It was
resolved that they should fortify a position on the
Chemung river, to resist the advance of the Americans
into the Indian country. The place selected was not far
from the village of Newtown. A breastwork was built, half
a mile in length, and this was protected on one side by
the river and on the other by two stretches of elevated
ground. Upon these ridges battalions were placed. But
the defenders were able to muster only a comparatively
small force, vastly inferior to the foe in numbers. In
all, the garrison consisted of about eight hundred men,
two-thirds of whom were Indians.
It was barely four weeks after the battle on the Delaware
that Generals Sullivan and Clinton joined forces at Tioga.
They had a very powerful army, consisting altogether of
some five thousand men, including a strong brigade of
experienced riflemen and an artillery corps with a number
of heavy guns. They had sent out corps of light infantry
in advance and were now moving slowly against the defences
occupied by the king's forces.
The War Chief was in charge of the Indians, and despite
the strength of the opposing force he had resolved to
make a determined stand. As the foe came on, he sent out
his men in small parties from the works to annoy them
and retard their advance. The Indians attacked the invaders
after the manner of bush-fighters, firing and then seeking
cover while they reloaded their muskets. The conflict
that ensued was desperate beyond description. Every bit
of cover--bush, tree, or boulder--held its man. With
dogged valour the savages stood their ground, till driven
back by the very impetus of the onset. The enemy were
massed deep in front and but little impression could be
made on their compact ranks. More distressing still, the
Americans had brought their heavy artillery into play,
and it began to thunder against the defences. On this
day Brant was an inspiring figure to his thin line of
warriors. His resolute countenance gave them hope; his
resonant voice rang out strong and clear amid the clamour
and spurred them to resist. Wherever the fight was fiercest
he made his way, issuing his orders with care, speaking
words of cheer, and, in the face of death, striving to
stem the current of certain defeat.
Meanwhile General Sullivan had caught sight of the troops
that infested the rising ground. A detachment was
immediately told off under Major Poor with orders to
storm the slopes and drive the defenders from their
position. The War Chief grasped the situation in an
instant. In a last attempt to save the day, he rallied
his warriors and, with the aid of a battalion of Rangers,
threw himself with renewed energy into the struggle. But
though Brant hurried from place to place with the utmost
energy, it soon became evident that the day was lost.
The Americans climbed the ascent and, in the teeth of a
brave opposition, turned the loyalists' flank. The troops
of the enemy began to fold about the garrison.
'Oonah! Oonah!' The savages' doleful cry of retreat
vibrated upon the air. Moving towards the stream, redskins
and white men crossed it together in headlong flight. It
was an Indian custom to carry the dead from the field of
battle, but on this occasion so precipitate was their
retreat that eleven corpses were left to lie where they
had fallen in the struggle. Sullivan and his army had
undisputed possession of the field. To Brant and to the
men of the Six Nations this was a day of grief and
disaster. The gates of their country were thrown open;
their villages were left undefended; there was nothing
to prevent the ravager from treading down and plundering
the fair land of their fathers, the pride of a noble
race, the gift of the centuries. But in the light of
their conduct at the affair in Cherry Valley it must be
said that their fate was not undeserved.
As General Sullivan advanced, burning and devastating,
he came at length into the valley of the Genesee. This
he made 'a scene of drear and sickening desolation. The
Indians were hunted like wild beasts, till neither house
nor fruit-tree, nor field of corn, nor inhabitant, remained
in the whole country.' One hundred and twenty-eight houses
were razed in the town of Genesee. Sullivan became known
to the Indians as the 'Town Destroyer.' 'And to this
day,' said Cornplanter, in a speech delivered many years
afterwards, 'when the name is heard, our women look behind
them and turn pale and our children cling close to the
necks of their mothers.'
The War Chief had, indeed, been beaten on the Chemung
river. And yet, in the hour of defeat, he had added lustre
to his name. In the annals of the forest there are few
incidents as glorious as this Spartan-like struggle on
the frontiers of the Indian country. Points of similarity
can be traced between this battle and another which was
waged, in 1813, by the great Shawnee warrior Tecumseh,
at Moravian Town, on the Canadian Thames. Like Brant,
Tecumseh was allied with a force of white men, and, like
the chief of the Mohawks in the struggle on the Chemung,
Tecumseh played the leading role in the battle of the
Thames. In each engagement the fight was against an army
much stronger in numbers; in each the defeat was not
without honour to the Indian leader.