The sword is, as it were, consecrated to God; and the art of war becomes a part of our religion.” –Samuel Davies

Friday, November 30, 2012

A Captive in Montreal


       In our last post, Pvt. Brown was in the hands of the Indians who were disappointed with the French failure to capture Ft. William Henry from the British.  Let’s pick up his story there.


        From thence we travelled, without any Thing worthy of Notice happening, 'till we came to an Indian Town, about 20 Miles from Montreal. When we were about a Gun's shot from the Town, the Indians made as many live Shouts as they had Prisoners, and as many dead Ones as they had Scalps. The Men and Women came out to meet us, and stripp'd me naked; after which they pointed to a Wigwam and told me to run to it, pursuing me all the Way with Sticks and Stones.
       Next Day we went to Montreal, where I was carried before Governor Vaudreuill and examined. Afterwards I was taken into a French Merchant's House, and there I lived three Days. The third Night two of the Indians that took me came in drunk and asked for me; upon which the Lady called me into the Room, and as I went and stood by the Door, one of them begun to dance the War-Dance about me, designing to kill me; but as he lifted up his Hand to stab me, I catch'd hold of it with one of mine, and with the other knock'd him down, and then ran up Garret and hid. The Lady sent for some Neighbours to clear the House of her Guests which they did. It was a very cold Night, and one of the Indians being excessive drunk, fell down near the House and was found in the Morning froze to death. The Indians came to the House, and finding their Brother dead, said I had kill'd him; and gathering a number together with their Guns, beset the House and demanded me of the Lady, saying I should die the most cruel Death. The Lady told me of it, and advis'd me to hide myself in the Cellar, under the Pipes of Wine; which I did. They searched the House and even came down Cellar, but could not find me. The Lady desired a Frenchman to tell the Indians That he saw me without the City, running away:  they soon took after me, every Way. The Merchant pitying my condition, cover'd me with a Blanket and carried me in his Conveyance about five Miles, to a Village where his Wife's Father lived, in order to keep me out of the Way of the Indians. When the Indians that pursued me had returned, and could not find me, they concluded that I was concealed by the Merchant; and applied to the Governor that I might be delivered to them in order that they might kill me for killing their Brother; adding, by way of threatening, that if I was not delivered up to them they would turn and be against the French. The Governor told them he had examined into the Matter, and found that I did not kill the Indian nor know any Thing about it; but that he froze to Death. On this they said they would not kill me, but would have me to live with them. The Governor then informed them where I was, and they came and took me with them to Montreal again, and dressed me in their Habit. 1

       This incident involving the two drunken Indians is so similar to an incident involving missionary David McClure that it is remarkable indeed.  Once again, God providentially delivered Brown and his would-be murderer suffered instead.  The French merchant and his wife deserve commendation for risking their lives and property in defense of Brown’s life.  We see God is not finished with Thomas Brown yet!

       On the 1st of May we set off to go to the Mississippi, where my Indian Master belonged, and two other English Prisoners with them. For several Days the Indians treated me very ill; but it wore off. We went in Bark Canoes, 'till we came to Lake Sacrament [Lake George], the first Carrying-Place. We continued our Journey till we came to the Ohio, where General Braddock was defeated. Here they took one of the Prisoners, and with a Knife ript open his Belly, took one End of his Guts and tied to a Tree, and then whipt the miserable Man round and round till he expired; obliging me to dance, while they made their Game at the dying Man. 2

       Those who deny the truth of man’s complete depravity as a result of Adam’s fall have possibly never read such accounts as those documenting Native American ritual tortures and other such atrocities.  That is not to say that the Indians were “worse” than other cultures that had abandoned the knowledge of God (Romans 1).  They were simply living out the inevitable results of their God-less worldview.  Apart from God’s grace manifested in our lives, we would torture and kill our enemies in much the same way.  Thank God that Jesus Christ came to save us from such an end as that!

       From hence we set off to go to an Indian Town about 200 Miles from the Ohio, where we arrived in 15 Days, and tarried three. The third Night one of the Indians had a mind to Kill me; as I was standing by the Fire he ran against me to push me into the Flames, but I jumped over, and Escaped being burnt; he followed me round and round, and struck me several Times with his Head and Fist; which so provoked me that as he was Coming at me again I struck him and knock'd him backwards. The other Indians laugh'd, and said I was a good Fellow.
       The next day we set off for the Mississippi, where we arrived the 23d of August, having passed over thirty-two Carrying-Places from our leaving Montreal. When we came here I was ordered to live with a Squaw, who was to be my Mother. I liv'd with her during the Winter, and was employed in Hunting, dressing Leather, &c., being cloath'd after the Indian Fashion.
       In the Spring a French Merchant came a Trading in Bark Canoes, and on his Return wanted Hands to help him; he prevailed with my Mistress to let me go with him to Montreal. When we came there, and the Canoes were unloaded, I went into the Country and liv'd with his Wife's Father, and worked at the Farming Business for my Victuals and Cloathing; I fared no better than a Slave. The Family often endeavoured to persuade me to be of their Religion, making many fair Promises if I would. Wanting to see what Alteration this would make in their Conduct towards me, one Sunday Morning I came to my Mistress, and said, Mother, will you give me good Cloaths, if I will go to Mass?  She answered Yes, Son, as good as any in the House.  She did so, and I rode to Church with two of her Daughters; in giving me Directions how to behave they told me I must do as they did.  When we came Home I sat at the Table and ate with the Family, and Every Night and Morning was taught my Prayers.
       Thus I lived 'till the next Spring, when my Master's Son-in-Law, that bro't me from the Mississippi, came for me to return with him, as he was going again there to trade. I refus'd to go, and applied to the Governor. I was then put into Gaol [jail], where I tarried 5 weeks, living on Bread and Water and Horse-Beef. When some Prisoners were going to be sent to Quebeck, in order to be transported to Old France, I went with them. Here we laid in Gaol 6 Weeks. But happening to see one of my Master's Sons, he prevailed with me to go back with him and work as formerly; I consented, and tarried with him till the 8th of September. 3

       Going to French Catholic mass would have been a big deal in Brown’s day.  Keep in mind there were fewer years separating Brown from the Protestant Reformation than there are years separating us from Brown’s day.  Again, it’s hard to throw stones at Brown without walking in his shoes.  What’s noteworthy is how the first French merchant he lived with was rather kind and yet this second family was rather abusive of Brown.  Through wounds and beatings, in jail and in forced servitude, God has preserved Brown.  What will happen next?  Stay tuned to the blog!

Christ, not man, is King!
Dale

1)          “A Plain Narrativ of the Uncommon Sufferings and Remarkable Deliverance of Thomas Brown,” The Magazine of History, Extra No. 4, Vol. 1 (New York, NY: William Abbatt, 1908), p. 216-17.
2)          Ibid., p. 217.
3)          Ibid., p. 217-19.




Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Pvt. Brown's Story Continues

       In our last post, we left Thomas Brown in captivity in the French-held Ft. Ticonderoga (Carillon).  Let’s pick up the story there.


       I lived with the Interpreter 'till the first of March, when General Rigeau came to the Fort with about 9000 Men, in order, as they said, to make an Attempt on Fort William Henry. Their Design was to scale the Walls, for which Purpose I saw them making scaling-Ladders. The Day before they marched the General sent for me and said, Young Man, you are a likely Fellow; it's Pity you should live with such an ignorant People as the English; you had better live with me.  I told him I was willing to live with him. He answer'd, I should, and go with him where he went.  I replied, Perhaps he would have me to go to War with him: He said That was the Thing; he wanted me to direct him to Fort William Henry, and show him where he might scale the Walls.  I told him I was sorry that a Gentleman should desire such a Thing of a Youth, or endeavor to draw him away from his Duty. He added, He would give me 7000 Livres on his Return. I replied that I was not to be bought with Money, to be a Traitor to my Country and assist in destroying my Friends. He smiled, and said In War you must not mind even Father nor Mother.  When he found that he could not prevail with me, by all the fair Promises he made, he ordered me back to the Fort; and had two other Prisoners brought before him, to whom he made the same Proposals as he had to me; to which they consented. The next Day I went into the Room where they were, and asked them if they had been with the General; they said they had, and that they were to have 7000 Livres apiece, as a Reward. I asked them if that was the Value of their Fathers and Mothers, and of their Country? They said they were obliged to go. I said the General could not force them; and added, that if they went on such a Design they must never return among their Friends; for if they did, and Baker and I should live to get Home we would endeavour they should be hang'd. At this Time a Smith came and put Irons on my Feet: But the General gave those two Men who promis'd to go with him, a Blanket, a Pair of Stockings and Shoes. They were taken out of the Guard-House, and marched with the French as Pilots. The General did not succeed; he only burnt our Battoes, &c, and returned to Tionderoga. The poor Fellows never had their Reward, but instead of that were sent to the Guard-House and put in Irons. 1
       Brown was asked to turn traitor and he refused; his fellow prisoners were not so patriotic.  How often we are tempted to forsake Christ and indulge in sin, and yet the final pay-off is the same as what these less honorable prisoners received… chains!
       Soon after this I was taken out of Irons, and went to live with the Interpreter till the 27th of March, at which Time the Indians took me with them in order to go to Montreal, and set me to draw a large Sled with Provisions, my Arms being tied with a Rope. By the Time we got to Crown Point, I was so lame that I could not walk. The Indians went ashore and built a Fire, and then told me I must dance; to which I complied rather than be kill'd. When we sat off again I knew not how to get rid of my Sled, and I knew I was not able to draw it: but this Fancy came into my Head: I took three Squaws on my Sled and pleasantly told them I wished  I was able to draw 'em. All this took with the Indians; they freed me of the Sled, and gave it to other Prisoners. They stripp'd off all my Cloaths [sic], and gave me a Blanket. And the next Morning they cut off my Hair and painted me, and with Needles and Indian ink prick'd on the back of my Hand the Form of one of the Scaling-Ladders which the French made to carry to Fort William Henry. I understood they were vex'd with the French for the Disappointment.
       We travelled about nine Miles on Lake Champlain, and when the Sun was two Hours high we stop'd; they made a Fire, and took one of the Prisoners that had not been wounded, and were going to cut off his Hair, as they had done mine. He foolishly resisted them, upon which they prepar'd to burn him; but the Commanding Officer prevented it at this Time. But the next Night they made a Fire, stripp'd and ty'd him to a Stake, and the Squaws cut Pieces of Pine, like Scures [skewers], and thrust them into his Flesh, and set them on Fire, and then fell to pow wawing and dancing round him; and ordered me to do the same. Love of Life obliged me to comply, for I could expect no better Treatment if I refus'd. With a bitter and heavy Heart I feigned myself merry. They cut the poor man's Cords, and made him run backwards and forwards. I heard the poor Man's Cries to Heaven for Mercy; and at length, thro' extreme Anguish and Pain, he pitched himself into the Flames and expired. 2
      
       Far be it from me to condemn Brown for his failure to repudiate the actions of the Indians towards his fellow captive.  Perhaps discretion is not the better part of valor, but it is hard to say what we would do were we in his shoes.  It is certain there is little he could have done and any resistance surely would have garnered him the same fate.  What must his thoughts have been?  Would his life eventually be spared?  Would he too be burned alive at the stake?  We’ll answer these questions in our next installment.
Christ, not man, is King!
Dale

1)          “A Plain Narrativ of the Uncommon Sufferings and Remarkable Deliverance of Thomas Brown,” The Magazine of History, Extra No. 4, Vol. 1 (New York, NY: William Abbatt, 1908), p. 214-15.
2)          Ibid., p. 215-16.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

A Prisoner at Ft. Ticonderoga

       In our last post, we looked at the privations of Thomas Brown who had survived the winter ambush of the French and Indians but was barely surviving the elements as well as his wounds.  Let’s pick up his story there.

      
       The next Day, about 11 o'Clock, I heard the Shouts of Indians behind me, and I suppos'd they saw me; within a few Minutes four came down a Mountain, running towards me: I threw off my Blanket, and Fear and Dread quickened my Pace for a while; but, by Reason of the Loss of so much Blood from my Wounds, I soon fail'd. When they were within a few Rods of me they cock'd their Guns, and told me to stop; but I refus'd, hoping they would fire and kill me on the Spot; which I chose, rather than the dreadful Death Capt. Spikeman died of. They soon came up with me, took me by the Neck and Kiss'd me. On searching my Pockets they found some money, which they were so fond of, that in trying who could get most, they had like to have Kill’d me. They took some dry Leaves and put them into my Wounds, and then turn'd about and ordered me to follow them.
       When we came near the main Body of the Enemy, the Indians made a Live-Shout, as they call it when they bring in a Prisoner alive (different from the Shout they make when they bring in Scalps, which they call a Dead-Shout). The Indians ran to meet us, and one of them struck me with a Cutlass across the Side; he cut thro' my Cloaths [sic], but did not touch my Flesh; others ran against me with their Heads: I ask'd if there was no Interpreter, upon which a Frenchman cry'd,  I am one:  I ask'd him, if this way they treated their Prisoners, to let them be cut and beat to Pieces by the Indians? He desired me to come to him; but the Indians would not let me, holding me one by one Arm and another by the other: But there arising a Difference between the four Indians that took me, they fell to fighting, which their commanding Officer seeing, he came and took me away and carry'd me to the Interpreter; who drew his Sword, and pointing it to my Breast, charged me to tell the Truth, or he would run me through: He then ask'd me what Number our Scout consisted of?—I told him 50: He ask'd where they were gone ? I told him, I supposed as they were so numerous they could best tell. He said I told him wrong; for he Knew of more than 100 that were slain; I told him we had lost but 19 in all: He said, there were as many Officers. On which he led me to Lieut. Kennedy. I saw he was much Tomahawk'd by the Indians. He ask'd me if he was an Officer: I told him, he was a Lieutenant: And then he took me to another; who, I told him, was an Ensign: From thence he carried me to Captain Spikeman, who was laying in the Place I left him; they had cut off his Head, and fix'd it on a Pole.
       I beg'd for a Pair of Shoes, and something to Eat; the Interpreter told me, I should have Relief when I came to Tionderoga [sic] , which was but one Mile and a 1/4 off, and then delivered me to the 4 Indians that took me. The Indians gave me a Piece of Bread, and put a Pair of Shoes on my Feet.
       About this Time Robert Baker, mentioned above, was brought where I was; we were extremely glad to see each other, tho' we were in such a distress'd Condition: he told me of five Men that were taken. We were ordered to march on toward Tionderoga [sic]: But Baker replied, he could not walk. An Indian then pushed him forward; but he could not go, and therefore sat down and cried; where upon an Indian took him by the Hair, and was going to kill him with his Tomahawk: I was moved with Pity for him, and, as weak as I was, I took his Arms over my Shoulders, and was enabled to get him to the Fort.
       We were immediately sent to the Guard House, and, about half an Hour after, brought before the Commanding-Officer, who, by his Interpreter, examined us separately; after which he again sent us to the Guard-House. The Interpreter came and told us, that we were to be hang'd the next Day because we had kill’d the 7 Prisoners we had taken on the Lake;  but was afterwards so kind as to tell us, this was done only to terrify us. About an Hour after came a Doctor, and his Mate, and dressed our Wounds; and the Commanding-officer sent us a Quart of Claret. We lay all Night on the Boards, without Blankets. The next Day I was put into the Hospital, (the other Prisoners were carried another Way) here I tarried till the 19th of Feb. and the Indians insisted on having me, to carry to their Homes, and broke into the Hospital; but the Centinel call’d the Guard and turn'd them out; after which the commanding Officer prevailed with them to let me stay 'till the 1st of March, by which Time I was able to walk about the Fort.
       As I was one Day in the Interpreter's Lodging, there came in 10 or 12 Indians, with the Scalps they had taken, in order to have a War-Dance: They set me on the Floor, and put 7 of the Scalps on my Head while they danc'd; when it was over, they lifted me up in triumph: But as I went and stood by the Door, two Indians began to dance a Live-Dance, and one of them threw a Tomahawk at me, to kill me, but I watch'd his Motion and dodg'd the Weapon. 1

       Surely God had kept Brown safe!  He had been captured by the Indians and yet spared.  He was a prisoner of the French and yet allowed to recover from his wounds.  In spite of his wounds he pitied a fellow prisoner and exerted his fullest efforts to save his life.  We’ll continue his story in our next post.

Christ, not man, is King!
Dale

1)      “A Plain Narrativ of the Uncommon Sufferings and Remarkable Deliverance of Thomas Brown,” The Magazine of History, Extra No. 4, Vol. 1 (New York, NY: William Abbatt, 1908), p. 211-14.