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.

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.

The Battle On Snowshoes

       Lately I’ve been reading a book about “Roger’s Rangers,” that intrepid group of frontiersmen who served the British cause against the French and their Indian allies during the French and Indian War.  During my reading of this book, I came across this account of a wintertime ambush from one of the Rangers, Thomas Brown, who was providentially delivered through it.  This ambush occurred a year before the more famous "Battle on Snowshoes" but the sufferings of the Rangers who survived it are so similar, I include it here as a first-hand account of what it was like to engage in forest combat during an 18th century New England winter.

       As I am but a Youth, I shall not make those Remarks on the Difficulties I have met with, or the kind Appearance of a good God for my Preservation, as one of riper Years might do; but shall leave that to the Reader as he goes along, and shall only beg his Prayers, that Mercies and Afflictions may be sanctified to me, and relate Matters of Fact as they occur to my Mind.

       I was born in Charlestown, near Boston in New-England, in the Year 1740, and put an Apprentice by my Father to Mr. Mark White of Acton, and in the Year 1756, in the Month of May, I inlisted [sic] into Major Rogers's Corps of Rangers, in the Company commanded by Capt. Spikeman [Thomas Speakman].

       We march'd for Albany, where we arriv'd the first of August, and from thence to Fort Edward. I was out on several Scouts, in one of which I kill'd an Indian. On the 18th of Jan. 1757, we march'd on a Scout from Fort William Henry; Major [Robert] Rogers himself headed us. All were Voluntiers [sic] that went on this Scout. We came to the Road leading from Tionderoga [sic] to Crown Point, and on Lake Champlain (which was froze over) we saw about 50 Sleys [sleighs]; the Major thought proper to attack them and ordered us all, about 60 in Number, to lay in Ambush, and when they were near enough we were order'd to pursue them. I happened to be near the Major when he took the first Prisoner, a Frenchman: I singled out one and follow'd him: they fled some one Way and some another, but I soon came up with him and took him. We took seven in all, the rest Escaping, some to Crown Point, and some returned to Tionderoga [sic]: When we had brought the Prisoners to Land the Major examined them, and they inform'd him that there were 35 Indians and 500 Regulars at Tionderoga [sic].

       It being a rainy Day we made a Fire and dry'd our Guns.

      The Major tho't best to return to Fort William Henry in the same Path we came, the Snow being very deep; we march'd in an Indian-File and kept the Prisoners in the Rear, lest we should be attack'd: We proceeded in this Order about a Mile and a half, and as we were ascending a Hill, and the Centre of our Men were at the Top, the French, to the Number of 400, besides 30 or 40 Indians, fir'd on us before we discovered them: The Major ordered us to advance. I receiv'd a Wound from the Enemy (the first Shot they made on us) thro' the Body, upon which I retir'd into the Rear, to the Prisoner I had taken on the Lake, knock'd him on the Head and killed him, lest he should Escape and give Information to the Enemy; and as I was going to place myself behind a large Rock, there started up an Indian from the other Side; I threw myself backward into the Snow, and it being very deep, sunk so low that I broke my Snowshoes (I had Time to pull 'em off, but was obliged to let my Shoes go with them) one Indian threw his Tomahawk at me, and another was just upon seizing me; but I happily escaped and got to the Centre of our Men, and fix'd myself behind a large Pine, where I loaded and fir'd every Opportunity; after I had discharged 6 or 7 Times, there came a Ball and cut off my Gun just at the Lock. About half an Hour after, I receiv'd a Shot in my Knee; I crawled again into the Rear, and as I was turning about receiv'd a Shot in my Shoulder. The Engagement held, as near as I could guess, 5 1/2 Hours, and as I learnt [sic] after I was taken, we Killed more of the Enemy than we were in Number. By this Time it grew dark and the Firing Ceased on both Sides, and as we were so few the Major took the Advantage of the Night and escaped with the well Men, without informing the wounded of his Design, lest they should inform the Enemy and they should pursue him before he had got out of their Reach.

       Capt. Spikeman, one Baker and myself, all very badly wounded, made a small Fire and sat about half an Hour, when looking round we could not see any of our Men; Captain Spikeman called to Major Rogers, but received no Answer, except from the Enemy at some Distance; upon this we concluded our People were fled. All hope of Escape now vanish'd; we were so wounded that we could not travel; I could but just walk, the others could scarce move; we therefore concluded to surrender ourselves to the French: Just as we came to this Conclusion, I saw an Indian coming towards us over a small Rivulet that parted us in the Engagement: I crawl'd so far from the Fire that I could not be seen, though I could see what was acted at the Fire; the Indian came to Capt. Spikeman, who was not able to resist, and stripp'd and scalp'd him alive; Baker, who was lying by the Captain, pull'd out his Knife to stab himself, which the Indian prevented and carried him away: Seeing this dreadful Tragedy, I concluded, if possible, to crawl into the Woods and there die of my Wounds: But not being far from Capt. Spikeman, he saw me and beg'd me  for God's sake! to give him a Tomahawk, that he might put an End to his Life!  I refus'd him, and Exhorted him as well as I could to pray for Mercy, as he could not live many Minutes in that deplorable Condition, being on the frozen Ground, cover'd with Snow. He desir'd me to let his Wife Know (if I lived to get home) the dreadful Death he died. As I was travelling as well as I could, or rather creeping along, I found one of our People dead; I pull'd off his Stockings (he had no Shoes) and put them on my own Legs.

       By this Time the Body of the Enemy had made a Fire, and had a large Number of Centries [sic] out on our Path, so that I was obliged to creep quite round them before I could get into the Path; but just before I came to it I saw a Frenchman behind a Tree, within two Rods of me, but the Fire shining right on him prevented his seeing me. They cried out about every Quarter of an Hour in French, All is Well! And while he that was so near me was speaking, I took the Opportunity to creep away, that he might not hear me, and by this Means got clear of him and got into our Path. But the Snow and Cold put my Feet into such Pain, as I had no Shoes, that I could not go on: I therefore sat down by a Brook, and wrapt [sic] my Feet in my Blanket. But my Body being cold by sitting still, I got up, and crawl'd along in this miserable Condition the Remainder of the Night. ¹

       Imagine... shot three times, barely able to crawl, no shoes to protect the feet from the stinging cold of wintry ice and snow, surrounded by fierce enemies and unable to assuage or avenge the cruel death of friends. The situation seems grim indeed for this Ranger! Lord willing, we’ll pick up the rest of Brown's story in a future 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. 209-11.