massacred by the tomahawk or consumed in the flames. I frequently went
out during the night to see if the house was set on fire. At length the
long wished-for morn arrived, and filled each heart with a cheerful
hope of being delivered from the cruelty of those merciless savages.
We were making every preparation to be ready for the promised sleighs;
but, alas! instead of the sleighs, about an hour by sun a great number
of savages, painted with various colors, came yelling in the most
hideous manner! These bloodthirsty, terrific savages (sent here by
their more cruel and perfidious allies, the British) rushed into the
houses where the desponding wounded lay, and insolently stripped them
of their blankets and all their best clothes, and ordered them out of
the houses! I ran out of the house to inform the interpreters[L] what
the Indians were doing. At the door, an Indian took my hat and put it
on his own head. I then discovered the Indians had been at the other
house first, and had used the wounded in like manner. As I turned to go
back into the house, an Indian, taking hold of me, made signs for me
to stand by the corner of the house. I made signs to him I wanted to
go in and get my hat; for I desired to see what they had done with the
wounded. The Indians sent in a boy who brought out a hat and threw it
down to me, and I could not get in the house. Three Indians came up to
me and pulled off my coat. My feeble powers cannot describe the dismal
scenes here exhibited. I saw my fellow-soldiers, naked and wounded,
crawling out of the houses to avoid being consumed in the flames. Some
that had not been able to turn themselves on their beds for four days,
through fear of being burned to death, arose and walked out and about
through the yard. Some cried for help, but there were none to help
them. “Ah!” exclaimed numbers, in the anguish of their spirit, “what
shall we do?” A number, unable to get out, miserably perished in the
unrelenting flames of the houses, kindled by the more unrelenting
savages. Now the scenes of cruelty and murder we had been anticipating
with dread, during last night, fully commenced. The savages rushed on
the wounded, and, in their barbarous manner, shot, and tomahawked, and
scalped them; and cruelly mangled their naked bodies while they lay
agonizing and weltering in their blood. A number were taken towards
Malden, but being unable to march with speed, were inhumanly massacred.
The road was, for miles, strewed with the mangled bodies, and all of
them were left like those slain in battle, on the 22d, for birds and
beasts to tear in pieces and devour. The Indians plundered the town
of everything valuable, and set the best houses on fire. The Indian
who claimed me, gave me a coat, and when he had got as much plunder
as he could carry, he ordered me, by signs, to march, which I did,
with extreme reluctance, in company with three of the wounded and six
or seven Indians. In travelling about a quarter of a mile, two of the
wounded lagged behind about twenty yards. The Indians, turning round,
shot one and scalped him. They shot at the other and missed him; he,
running up to them, begged that they would not shoot him. He said he
would keep up, and give them money. But these murderers were not moved
with his doleful cries. They shot him down; and, rushing on him in
a crowd, scalped him. In like manner my brother Allen perished. He
marched with difficulty after the wounded, about two or three hundred
yards, and was there barbarously murdered. My feelings at the sight
and recollection of these inhuman butcheries cannot be described. In
addition to these deep sorrows for the mournful fate of my companions,
and the cruel death of a dear brother, I expected every moment, for a
considerable time, that the same kind of cruelty and death would be my
portion. The Indians that guarded me and one of the wounded, observing
our consternation, one that could talk English said, “We will not
shoot you.” This a little revived our hopes, that were almost gone;[M]
and he, having cut a piece, hide and all, of a dead cow, started.
It is their common practice to kill a cow or hog, and take a piece,
and leave the rest. In travelling two miles, we came to a house where
there were two British officers; the Indian made a halt, and I asked
one of the officers what the Indian was going to do with me; he said
he was going to take me to Amherstburg (or Malden). I judged these
villains had instructed the Indians to do what they had done. A few
miles farther, we came to the Indian encampment, where there were a
great many hallooing and yelling in a hideous manner. I thought this
my place of destiny. The Indian took off my pack, broiled a piece of
meat and gave me part; this I ate merely in obedience to him. Then we
started and arrived at Amherstburg, eighteen miles from Frenchtown. The
other prisoners had just arrived. The British were firing their salute.
The Indian took me into a house not far from the fort; it was probably
their council house; it would have held 500. It was inhabited by a
large number of squaws, children, and dogs. They welcomed me by giving
me some bread, meat and hominy to eat. After this an Indian asked me if
I had a squaw; I told him not; he immediately turned round and talked
to the squaws in Indian, while I sat in a pensive mood observing their
motions. I discovered the squaws were pleased, by their tittering
and grinning; one, I observed, had a great desire to express her joy
by showing her teeth; but the length of time she had lived in this
world had put it out of her power. I suspected, from their manœuvres,
I would have to undergo a disagreeable adoption (as other prisoners
had done)--and, what was a task still more unpleasant, to be united
in the conjugal band to one of these swarthy, disgustful animals. The
Indian asked me a few questions--where we had come from--how far it
was--when we started--and if there were any more coming. In reply to
these questions, I gave him but little satisfaction. After this they
spread blankets down, and made signs for me to go to bed. I did, and
soon fell asleep, as I was much fatigued and had not slept much for
four nights past. Early next morning, the Indian collected his family
and all his property, and started: I knew not where he was going; he
gave me a knapsack and gun to carry. Now I despaired of getting with
the other prisoners, unless I could desert from the Indians! I expected
I would be taken to an Indian town, there to undergo a disagreeable
adoption, or to be burned to death with firebrands. As he took me near
Fort Malden, I took as good a view of it as I could while I passed
it. It stands about thirty yards from the river bank. I judged it to
be seventy or eighty yards square; the wall appeared to be built of
timber and clay. The side, from the river, was not walled, but had
double pickets, and entrenched round, about four feet deep; and in
the entrenchment was the second row of pickets. As we went on through
the edge of town (Amherstburg) I asked an Englishman where the other
prisoners were? He said they were in town, in a wood-yard; the Indian
hurried me along and would not let me talk to the Englishman. The
Indian had a little horse, packed with his plunder, which I resolved to
take, if possible, and ride into town that night.
He took me to his place of residence, about three miles from Malden. I
was anxious for the approach of night, so that I might make my escape.
While I was consoling myself with the anticipation of seeing my fellow
sufferers at Malden, night made its approach. Some time after dark the
Indian spread blankets down, and made signs for me to lie down, and put
my coat, shoes, and socks, under his own head. I wanted him to leave my
socks on, for my feet would get cold; he made signs to warm them by the
fire. Thus I was sadly disappointed.
Next day he examined all his plunder. He had a very good suit of
clothes, besides several other coats, socks, shoes, &c.; among these
were Wesley’s Sermons and a great many papers, which he gave me to
read. I found several old letters, but nothing of value. He discovered
I wanted to shave, and got his razor, shaving-box, and a piece of
glass, and made signs for me to shave. After this, I lay down on some
blankets and fell asleep. He came and awoke me, and gave me a twist of
tobacco, which I received as a token of friendship. In a short time
after, he started to Malden, and made signs for me to stay there till
he would come back. He returned in the evening with a blanket, tied
full of loaves of bread, just out of the oven, besides some meat. The
Indians always gave me a plenty to eat; and served me before any of the
family, with more politeness than I expected to find amongst them. He
had drawn some money. I asked him to let me look at it. I found it to
be pieces of cards with the number of livres written on them.
The third night at length arrived; and he made my bed as usual; and
took my coat and shoes, but accidentally left my socks on. I lay down
with the determination to leave him before morning. I slept very well
for awhile. When I awoke, the house was dark. I thought this as good an
opportunity of deserting as I could get, but with considerable timidity
I made the attempt. I crawled to the door very easily, and raised the
blanket that hung up at the door; just as I was going out he coughed,
and I stopped until I thought he was asleep, and then started, without
shoes or coat, to Amherstburg. When I got there, I examined several
yards and gardens to see if there was any fire. After going through
many streets, I turned my course towards the river, and accidentally
came to the house where the prisoners were. The sentinel, who was
standing at the door, let me in without much ceremony. Providence
smiled on this attempt to extricate myself from the Indians. Thus,
through mercy, I escaped from the savages, and was delivered from the
doleful apprehensions of being sacrificed in some barbarous and cruel
manner, to gratify their bloodthirsty souls. I got in between two of my
comrades who were lying next to the door. My feet were almost frozen
before morning.
During my captivity with the Indians, the other prisoners were treated
very inhumanly. The first night, they were put in a wood-yard; the rain
commenced early in the night, and put out all their fires. In this
manner they passed a tedious night, wet, and benumbed with cold. From
this place they were taken to a cold warehouse, still deprived of fire,
with their clothes and blankets frozen, and nothing to eat but a little
bread. In this wretched condition they continued two days and three
nights!
_26th._ The Indians came early in the morning to search for me, but
they were not admitted into the house. The guard said it would be well
for me to keep as much concealed as possible, for if the Indian I had
left could get me he would kill me. He came to the door, and made
motions to show how he would scalp me. I disguised myself by changing
my clothes and tying up my head, so that he did not know me.
The prisoners being destined to Fort George, were divided in two
divisions, the first to keep a day’s march before the second, in order,
probably, to be better supplied with provisions on the way.
I being attached to the first division, the Indians examined the lines
very closely for me, but not possessing discernment sufficient to know
me, I fortunately escaped.
Malden, or Amherstburg, is situated on the east side of Detroit
River, near its junction with Lake Erie, and contains about one
hundred houses, mostly frame; in lat. 42° 22′ N., long. 8° 3′ W. from
Philadelphia.
We set out from this town, and marched seventeen miles to Sandwich,
a small town on the east side of Detroit River, and one mile below
Detroit; it contains perhaps about three hundred inhabitants. We were
divided in small companies, and put into different houses, where we
had the happiness once more to see fire.
_27th._ We drew a ration of bread and fresh beef, but no salt, and had
no way of cooking the beef. We commenced our march at 1 o’clock, and
marched ten miles, part of the way on Lake St. Clair. In the evening we
were conducted to cold barns, and there shut up till morning, deprived
of fire.
_28th._ We recommenced our march early, as cold a morning as ever I
experienced, and continued twenty-four miles on Lake St. Clair; at
night we were conducted to a cold barn on the beach; we lay without
fire, except a few who could not get in, who had the happiness of
encamping in the woods.
_29th._ We again resumed our march, and continued on the lake fifteen
miles to the mouth of La Tranche River, called by some the River
Thames; during this time we had to run to keep ourselves from freezing;
we continued up the river five miles, and stopped while the guard went
in to warm and to get their dinner. Having drawn no provisions since we
left Sandwich, some of the prisoners were driven to the necessity of
picking up frozen potatoes and apple peelings that had been thrown out
in the yard. One of the prisoners, being unable to keep pace with the
rest, was left on the lake, but was accidentally overtaken by a sleigh
and brought on. After being in a stove room some time, he was led out
to march, trembling with cold. One of the guard observed, “he was a man
of no spirit to freeze such a day as this.” So barbarous were their
dispositions and treatment, that I concluded we should die of cold and
hunger. We marched ten miles farther to Captain Dolson’s, where we were
conducted into a large still-house. A number lodged below among the
still-tubs by the fire; the rest on the loft, where they were annoyed
with the smoke. Some time in the night they brought us a little bread
and meat.
_30th._ We drew two days’ provisions, and cooked it.
_31st._ It snowed all day; notwithstanding, we marched twenty-four
miles and were shut up in a barn wet and cold. Going to a barn to lodge
so cold an evening was like approaching a formidable enemy, for we
expected to perish with cold in the dreary dwelling. Many got their
feet frostbitten. We tried in vain to keep our shoes from freezing by
putting them under our heads.
_February 1._ We continued our march twenty-two miles in a thinly
settled country, and passed through the Moravian nation of Indians; in
the evening we encamped in the woods.
_2d._ We marched twenty-two miles, suffering greatly both with
hunger and cold. In the evening we arrived at Delaware township, a
small settlement on the River La Tranche. We were divided into small
companies, and were permitted to lodge in houses by fires.
_3d._ We had been two days without provisions. Here we drew rations for
three days. Capt. Dolson left us to-day; the prisoners must forever
detest his baseness and cruelty. We resumed our march in the evening
and continued five miles, notwithstanding the snow was two feet deep,
and it was then snowing. We were better treated by our new guard.
_4th._ We marched twenty-six miles to the head waters of the River
Thames, to Oxford township, a settlement of ten or twelve miles in
length.
_5th._ We marched two miles, and were detained for a supply of
provisions.[N] After being supplied we continued our march in the
evening three miles farther, and where we lodged were treated very
civilly by the inhabitants.
_6th._ After marching twenty-four miles, principally through a
wilderness, we arrived at Burford township.[P]
_7th._ In marching thirty miles to a little village near the head of
Lake Ontario, we passed through the Mohawk Nation of Indians on Grand
River, who are much whiter than any we have seen; their mode of dress
is not different from other Indian nations, and they have the same
savage appearance; we were informed that there are six nations on this
river who hold a large body of the best land.
_8th._ We drew our rations and proceeded on sixteen miles. In going
down towards Lake Ontario, we descended a precipice upwards of two
hundred feet into a level country; this precipice extends across
Niagara River, and occasions those remarkable falls.
_9th._ We marched eighteen miles through a well-settled country.
_10th._ We marched sixteen miles to Newark, lately called Niagara West;
it contains about five hundred inhabitants; many of the buildings are
handsome, composed of brick and stone; it has several churches, an
academy, six taverns, and about twenty stores; it is situated on the
west side of Niagara River, in lat. 43° 15′ N., long. 4° west; Fort
George stands at the upper end of the town.
We continued here no longer than was necessary to make arrangements
to cross the river. A British officer took down our names, and the
regiment and company we belonged to, and said “we must not take up arms
against Great Britain and her allies until legally exchanged.” Thus we
were parolled; they hoisted a flag and took us across Niagara River,[Q]
which is about one-quarter of a mile wide to Fort Niagara, which is
situated at the junction of Niagara River and Lake Ontario, in New York
State; it is strongly fortified, and well supplied with artillery.
A FEW REMARKS RESPECTING UPPER CANADA AND ITS INHABITANTS.
From Malden to Sandwich, and a considerable distance up St. Clair,
resembles a level plain thickly interspersed with farms and houses;
many places look like little villages. The houses are principally
frame, and have an ancient appearance. Besides being well supplied with
grain from their farms, they receive considerable benefit from their
orchards.
The River La Tranche is a considerable navigable stream, and runs a
westerly course into Lake St. Clair; the land near it is rich and
fertile; the timber is oak, ash, hickory, walnut, sugar-tree, &c.
It is thickly settled as far as Moraviantown; but, from the river
on the north side, is an extensive wilderness of poor swampy land.
From Moraviantown to Grand River is a wilderness of poor piney land,
except Delaware, Oxford, and Burford townships, which are tolerable
settlements. From Grand River to Fort George, is a rich, well-settled
country, particularly along Lake Ontario. The inhabitants are composed
of English, French, Dutch, and a great many emigrants from the United
States. The whole has been estimated at eighty thousand; besides these,
there are unknown numbers of Indians. The Canadians are generally a
well-looking people, remarkably fair, but not well informed. They do
not set a great value on education, and it is not encouraged by the
government. Although their laws appear to be moderate, yet neither
the freedom of speech nor the freedom of the press is encouraged. The
officers are haughty and tyrannical in the execution of their orders.
I learned that a majority[R] of the inhabitants were in favor of the
United States government, and many had concealed themselves to avoid
taking up arms.
The British forces consist of regulars, flankers, militia, _Negroes_,
and Indians. Agreeably to an act of their assembly in 1812, their
flankers are riflemen, volunteered or drafted for the term of six
months, and longer if not then relieved. The militia cannot be called
into service for more than twenty days, unless their country is
invaded. I heard of two companies of _Negroes_, runaways from Kentucky,
and other States, who are commanded by white men. A great many of the
Indians are stationed near the lines, who can be called to arms at a
minute’s warning.
_11th._ After regaling ourselves on the plenty of food and drink
afforded us in the land of liberty, we set our faces homewards. One
mile from Niagara Fort, we came to Salt Battery; it was composed of
barrels of salt and dirt. From this they could play upon Fort George.
We proceeded up the river eight miles to Lewistown, which is on the
east bank of Niagara River, opposite Queenstown, and contains only a
few houses; eight miles farther, we came to Grand Niagara, a small
village on the east bank of Niagara River just above the falls, and
nearly opposite Chippeway. Above the falls, in the middle of the river,
is an island about three hundred yards long, the lower end of which
is just at the perpendicular edge of the fall. On both sides of this
island, all the waters of the rivers and lakes to the north-west, fall
down a precipice of one hundred and thirty-seven feet perpendicular,
and fall near as much more in a rapid of nine miles below. Before the
water comes to the fall, as it passes the island, it seems in swiftness
to outfly an arrow.
_12th._ We arrived at Black Rock, nineteen miles above the falls.
Here is a considerable village, a navy yard, and three batteries well
furnished with cannon. It took its name from its rocky situation. From
this we continued on two miles and a half to Buffalo, the capital of
Buffalo county, New York State. It is situated at the foot of Lake
Erie, opposite to Fort Erie.
We continued at Buffalo one day, on account of the badness of the
weather, and then continued our march thirty-two miles on the lake, and
then marched through a well-settled country to Erie, the county town
of Erie county, in Pennsylvania. It is ninety miles from Buffalo, and
is situated on the south-east shore of Lake Erie. We proceeded on by
the way of Waterford and Meadville, one hundred and twenty miles, to
Pittsburgh, and from Pittsburgh to Kentucky, by water.
Language fails to express the emotions I felt on arriving safely at
home, to enjoy the caresses and society of dear friends, after having
endured so much fatigue, and having been so often exposed to imminent
danger; and having so frequently expected death, attended with _all the
horrors of Indian cruelty_.
NARRATIVE
OF
MR. TIMOTHY MALLARY.
During the battle on the 22d January, 1813, at Frenchtown, on the River
Raisin, between the combined forces of British, Canadians, and Indians,
and the American forces, I received a wound from a piece of plank,
which had been split off by a cannon ball. It struck me on the side,
and unfortunately broke three of my ribs. The battle having terminated
in favor of the combined forces, and I not being able to travel with
those American prisoners who were to march immediately for Malden, I
remained on the ground until the next morning, with the rest of my
wounded countrymen, who had received a solemn promise from the British
commander, that they should be taken to Malden in sleighs.
This sacred promise was not regarded! It was sacrificed on the altar
of savage barbarity! to the god of murder and cruelty! Instead of
sleighs, Indians were sent prepared to murder these unfortunate
victims! who, after they had executed in part their purpose on the
ground where we lay, ordered several other prisoners and myself to
march for Malden. We had not proceeded far before they tomahawked four
of this number, amongst whom was Captain Hart, of Lexington. He had
hired an Indian to take him to Malden. I saw part of this hire paid to
the Indian.
After having taken him some distance, another Indian demanded him,
saying that he was his prisoner; the hireling would not give him up;
the claimant, finding that he could not get him alive, shot him in the
left side with a pistol. Capt. Hart still remained on his horse; the
claimant then ran up, struck him with a tomahawk, pulled him off his
horse, scalped him, and left him lying there.
We proceeded on until we came within three miles of Brownstown, where
we encamped for the night. The next day we proceeded on to their
encampment, seven or eight miles from Detroit, on the River Rouge,
which appeared to be head-quarters. They were furnished at this place
with bark wig-wams; here was a large number of squaws and children, I
suppose two thousand.
They here stripped off my clothes, and dressed me after the Indian
manner. They shaved off my hair, except a small quantity on the top
of my head, which they left for the purpose of rendering the task of
scalping more easy. They bored my ears, which they supplied plentifully
with ear-rings, frequently by hanging one in another, like the links of
a chain. They wanted to bore my nose, but I objected, and they did not
insist. They frequently painted my face one-half black and the other
red, and frequently with red and black streaks.
Shortly after our arrival at these encampments, I was adopted into a
Pottowatomie family that had lost a son in the battle at the River
Raisin.
I was presented to this family by an Indian whose name was
_Ke-wi-ex-kim_. He introduced me to my father and mother, brothers
and sisters, and instructed me to call them by these respective
appellations. My father’s name was _Asa Chipsaw_, after whom they call
me; they asked me if I had a squaw; I answered in the negative, at
which they appeared well pleased, and brought me a squaw, urging me to
marry her. I refused, and told them when I got well I would accede to
the proposals; this they took as a great offence. After having made
themselves acquainted with the situation of my wound, they made a tea
of sassafras and cherry-tree barks, which was the only drink I was
permitted to take for fifteen days.
They frequently took me to Detroit, for the purpose of helping them to
pack provisions from thence to their encampment. But they would not
suffer me to talk to the inhabitants of that place. Fifteen loaves of
bread, weighing three pounds each, ten pounds of pork or beef, and a
peck of corn, was what they drew for six days. This would not last
more than half that time; the remaining part they lived upon fragments
of dog or horse meat. They appeared indifferent whether they had
killed the animal that day themselves, or whether it had died by some
accidental cause seven or eight days prior to their eating it.
They appointed me cook. I then had to undergo much fatigue in getting
wood, &c., for they lent no assistance. Their customary way of cooking
is to boil the meat and make soup, which they immediately devour
without salt.
They have drunken frolics, whenever they can get any kind of spirits to
drink. When these frolics take place the squaws hid me, to prevent them
from murdering me. Once I was hid in some brush and deprived of food
for four days, during which time there was a continual uproar in the
camp, as though they had been killing each other.
The squaws, who frequently visited me, and to whom I as often applied
for something to eat, informed me that there could be nothing had
until the men got sober, who would then either kill provisions, or draw
from Detroit. On the fourth day, when I had given up to perish, they
brought me a piece of a dog cooked without salt, and although you may
feel squeamish when I mention it, yet it was to me the sweetest morsel
that I ever recollect to have eaten.
During my stay with them I saw them take a number of scalps to Malden,
for which they said they received from four to six dollars each, either
in whiskey or store goods. They said they got thirty-seven scalps at
the battle of the 18th, and upwards of four hundred at that of the 22d
January. I replied, that there were only ten scalped on the 18th. They
said “Yankee d--d lie;” and they further stated, that they had only two
killed on the 18th. I replied, Indian d--d lie, for I saw myself twelve
dead on the field. I asked them how many British and Indians were at
the River Raisin, on the 22d January; they replied, that there were two
thousand five hundred Indians, and one thousand British.
They would frequently make motions imitating the Americans when they
were scalping them, by turning, twisting, mourning, &c.; this was done
to aggravate me.
They once gave me a jug of whiskey, requesting me to drink. I drank
what satisfied me, and offered them the jug again--they insisted on
me to drink more; I put the jug to my head, but did not drink; they
discovered the cheat, and cried out “Yankee no good man, d--d lie;”
they then made me drink until they could hear it gurgle in my throat.
About three weeks before the battle at the Rapids, the squaws and boys
were employed in dressing deer-skins, which were to equip the warriors
for their march thither. During this time, the warriors were collecting
and dancing the war-dance. They informed me that they were going to
Quo-by-ghaw, which I learned from the French, was the Rapids. I further
learned that the British had promised them the possession of Fort
Meigs, as well as the disposal of Gen. Harrison. They then calculated
on Fort Meigs as their chief place of deposit, from which they could
make incursions into the State of Ohio, kill a vast number of the
inhabitants, and satisfy themselves with plunder. They calculated on
having a three days’ frolic in the burning of Gen. Harrison.