From Montreal to Albany... the hard way!

       In our last post, we left Pvt. Brown in the hands of his captors in Montreal.  Let’s pick up the story again there.  

        There was at the next House an English Lad, a Prisoner; we agreed to run away together, through the Woods, that so, if possible, we might get home to our Friends. But how to get Provisions for the Way, we Knew not; till I was allowed a Gun to kill Pigeons, which were very plenty here. I shot a number, split and dried them, and concealed in the Woods. We agreed to set off on a Sunday Morning, and were to meet at an appointed Place: which we did, and began our Journey towards Crown-Point. After we had travelled 22 Days, 15 of which we had no Provision except Roots, Worms and such like, we were so weak and faint that we could scarce walk. My Companion gave out, and could go no further; he desired me to leave him, but I would not. I went and found three Frogs, and divided them between us. The next Morning he died. I sat down by him, and at first concluded to make a Fire, as I had my Gun, and eat his Flesh, and if no Relief came, to die with him; but finally came to this Resolution: To cut off of his Bones as much Flesh as I could and tie it up in a Handkerchief, and so proceed as well as I could. Accordingly I did so, and buried my Companion on the Day I left him. I got three Frogs more the next Day. Being weak and tired, about 9 o'clock I sat down, but could not eat my Friend's Flesh. I expected soon to die myself; and while I was commending my Soul to GOD I saw a Partridge light just by me, which I thought was sent by Providence. I was so weak that I could not hold out my Gun; but by resting, I brought my Piece to bear, so that I kill'd the Partridge. While I was eating of it, there came two Pigeons, so near, that I kill'd 'em both.¹

        I think sometimes we pass over these starvation accounts without really comprehending, insofar as we can, the real sufferings these people endured.  Imagine going half a month with nothing to eat except for “roots, worms and such like!”  In such a state it’s no wonder than cannibalism would be considered as an option.  But even at the point of impending death, when starvation had brought him to the point of complete desperation, Brown could not bring himself to eat his friend’s flesh.  Is it that there is something about the image of God that we all bear that one would rather die than devolve from it?  And just at the point where Brown is ready to give it all up and die, God intervenes!  Truly God is our Provider!

       As I fired two Guns, I heard a Gun at a Distance: I fired again, and was answered twice. This roused me; I got up and travelled as fast as I could towards the Report of the Guns; and about half a Mile off, I saw three Canadians. I went to 'em, and pretended to be a Dutchman, one of their own Regulars, that was lost in the Woods. They brought me to Crown Point; upon which I desired to see the Commanding Officer. He knew me again, and asked me how I came there. I told him my story and what difficulties I had met with. He ordered me to the Guard-House, and to be put in irons. About an hour after he sent me a Bowl of Rice.

       After I had been at Crown Point ten or twelve Days, the Commanding Officer sent me back, under a Guard of 12 Soldiers, to Montreal, in a Battoe [sic], and wrote a Letter (as I afterwards under stood) to my Master not to hurt me. ²

       Just when salvation seemed to be drawing near, Brown finds himself back in the hands of the French.  But, at least he’s not at the point of starvation now and there’s still hope that eventually he will return home to his family.

       When I came to the House, one of his Daughters met me at the Door, and pushed me back, and went and called her Father. At this House there was a French Captain, of the Regulars, billeted; he was a Protestant.  He hearing my Voice, called me to him and asked me where I had been. Upon my telling him he called me a Fool, for attempting a thing so impossible. My Master coming in, took me by the Shoulder, and threatened to kill me for stealing his Gun when I ran away. But the good Captain prevented him from using any Violence. The Captain asked me if I had been before the Governor; I told him I had not; and he then advis'd my Master to send his Son with me (who was an Ensign among the Canadians). When we came to a small Ferry, which we were to pass, I refus'd to go any further; and after a great deal of do, he went without me. On his Return, he said he had got leave of the Governor, that I should go back to his Father and work as formerly. Accordingly I lived with him 'till the 19th of November; and when Col. Schuyler* was coming away, I came with him to Albany. ³

       Thomas Brown has seen God interpose on his behalf so many times just in this narrative that I’m sure even he must’ve had a hard time keeping track of them all!  What were the chances of meeting a Protestant captain in the French army in 18^th century Montreal?  I would say those chances would be somewhere in the neighborhood of “miraculous!”  Once again God preserves Brown’s life and after a little more sojourning in a foreign land, he finally arrives in New York.  If you think this is the end of Brown’s narrative you would be mistaken; he still has a few more hurdles to clear before he finally makes it home.  We’ll finish up his story in the next post, Lord willing.

Christ, not man, is King!

Dale

* Col. Peter Schuyler was a New Jersey militia leader.  He was captured when Ft. Oswego fell to the French on August 15, 1756 and was a prisoner at Montreal before his release.

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. 219.

2)          Ibid., p. 219-20.

3)          Ibid., p. 220.