USA > New York > Cortland County > Pioneer history; or, Cortland County and the border wars of New York, from the earliest period to the present time > Part 4
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the campaign, were large and elegant, some beautifully painted ; their tombs likewise, especially of their chief warriors.
Still the army strode forward, hoping to come up with the retreating foe. But they were not to be so easily caught.
At the capital of the Senecas, Kanadesaga, at least something like a flourish at resistance was expected ; but when the emboldened army drew up before their entrenchments, eager, anxious, thirsting for the blood of the poor unlettered red men, lo ! they, too, had fled. But in their sudden flight they left behind them, asleep, a white boy of seven or eight years.
Kanadesaga was located about one and a half miles north of the present flourishing village of Geneva, and contained about sixty houses. It was the last strong- hold of the Senecas, though destined to fall into the spoilers' hands. In after time, however, a few of the surviving remnants of that once powerful and far-famed tribe, returned, and once more reared their rude homes over the ashes of their former wigwams. When their lands were ceded to the State, it was explicitly agreed that this, the home of their ancient grandeur, should never be cultivated by the white man's hand. "Here," said the red man, "sleep our fathers, and they cannot rest well if they hear the plow of the white man above them." The rude traces of their olden fortress are still distinctly visible.
Near the shores of the Canandaigua lake, another flourishing settlement was approached and fired, with many of the products of Indian toil. There were twenty-three houses, many of them framed, and very elegantly painted.
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From this place the army moved forward to Honcoye, a small town of about ten houses, situated near Cone- sus lake. The houses were fired and consumed. Here General Sullivan left a portion of the heavy stores and one field-piece, under the charge of a competent garri- son. He had no doubt but that the Indians would show some resistance at the Genesee Castle, and he desired to be unencumbered with every unnecessary article. The next day he left for the capital. The enemy had held a council of war, and were almost unanimously in favor of making at least one more bold stand in the defence of their homes and their hunting-grounds. Their women and children were therefore directed to secrete themselves some miles ahead, in the direction of Fort Niagara. The preliminaries having been thus arranged, the warriors prepared for the contest. They took a favorable position between Honeoye creek and the head of Conesus lake, near what is now called Henderson's Flats. They had carefully ambushed, and awaited the arrival of the American forces. As soon as Sullivan's advance guard reached their posi- tion, the Indians appeared and commenced the attack. It was in the main a rather bloodless effort, and termi- nated in the enemy taking two Oneida Indians prison- ers,-one a guide to Sullivan's army. He had on several occasions been of important service to the American force,-a fact fully apparent to his captors,-and hence he was a prisoner of consequence. He had a brother in Butler's corps, who in the early progress of the war had endeavored to persuade him to unite his destiny with his British brethren. But to no purpose. Soon after the prisoners were conducted into the enemy's
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camp, the brothers met-not, however, as friends who had been long separated. The eldest of the two, deem- ing it a proper time to vent upon his weaker brother the envenomed shafts of his deep and undying malice, approached, and thus addressed him: ----
"Brother ! You have merited death ! The hatchet or the war-club shall finish your career ! When I beg- ged of you to follow me in the fortunes of war, you were deaf to my cries : you spurned my entreaties !
" Brother ! You have merited death, and shall have your deserts ! When the rebels raised their hatchets to fight their good master, you sharpened your knife, you brightened your rifle, and led on our foe to the fields of our fathers !
"Brother ! You have merited death, and shall die by our hands ! When those rebels had driven us from the fields of our fathers to seek out new homes, it was you who could dare to step forth as their pilot, and conduct them even to the doors of our wigwams, to butcher our children and put us to death ! No crime can be greater! But though you have merited death, and shall die on this spot, my hands shall not be stained with the blood of a brother ! Who will strike ?"
There was a pause of one moment-a moment of aw- ful suspense-and the next, the bright hatchet of Little Beard cleft his skull, and his spirit passed to the brighter land of promise.
While at Honeoye, General Sullivan detached Lieut. William Boyd, of the Rifle corps, with a select party of twenty-six men to reconnoitre Little Beard's Town, (now known as Leicester.) On arriving at the settle- ment, the party discovered that the Indians were absent, 4
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though certain indications led them to presume that in all probability they would soon return, and they there- fore concluded to remain sleeping upon their arms.
Just after Aurora had begun to ascend the eastern sky, two Indians were discovered lurking about the place, and unfortunately for the party, were instantly shot and hastily scalped. Considering the unsafe posi- tion in which this act of indiscretion had placed them, they determined to hasten their return back to the main army. But when within one and a half miles of Gen. Sullivan's force, their progress was intercepted by the sudden appearance of five hundred Indians, and nearly an equal number of tory Rangers ; the former under command of Capt. Brant, and the latter under Col. But- ler, of infamous memory. We have been told by one who served in the campaign, that these border pirates had not for a single day lost sight of Sullivan's army after their defeat at Newtown. Boyd and his party made a number of attempts to cut their way through the strong lines of the enemy, but were unsuccessful. All fell save Boyd and an Oneida Indian, who served as pilot, and who had distinguished himself in the battle of Oriskany .* Boyd and Hanyerry surrendered and were made prisoners. Under the direction of Butler they were conducted to Little Beard's castle. Boyd had an interview with Brant, who promised that his life should be spared. But he was unexpectedly called away. In his absence, Butler delivered them over to the tender mercies of a chosen number of barbarians that would disgrace any army and blacken the character of any
" They were buried at what is now called Groveland.
!
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commander. The Indian was literally hewn to pieces. But the fate of Lieut. Boyd,-the high-souled, gallant Boyd,-was of a more terrible and disgusting character. The heart sickens as we record the inhumanity of his captors. We read of no parallel in the records of an- cient wars, when bigotry blotted its pathway with blood, or when tyrants, clad in iron mail, waged long and un- relenting wars, severed kingdoms and divided empires, in order that their names might be enrolled on the scroll of immortal fame.
He was disrobed of his clothing, his hands pin- ioned behind him, and his person tied with a hempen cord to a small tree. Then commenced the work of torture, Little Beard leading the way. He was one of those reckless wretches whose barbarity did much to- wards injuring the English cause, as well as in tarnish- ing the Indian character. Their tomahawks were whirled over his head with great fury, accompanied with horrid yells, until the tree was completely hewed and shivered to pieces. Then, like so many infuriated demons, they approached him, brandishing their scalp- ing knives, frantic with rage, and thirsting for his blood. " His nails were pulled out, his nose cut off, one of his eyes plucked out, and his tongue cut off."* An incision was made in his side, from which protruded an intes- tine. This was immediately attached to the branch of a small tree ; the hempen cord loosened from his pin- ioned arms ; and now goaded and scourged by means the most heartless, he was compelled to march round and round until his intestines disappeared from his body,
" Stone's Life of Brant.
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and he fell like a lump of clay to the earth. Then louder, louder were the yells of the demoniac devils-wilder, wilder were their frantic gesticulations, for on his brow they saw the large drops of sweat-his lips quivered, his eyes rolled in agony, and all was over,-for Heaven in mercy had thrown the sleep of death over the gallant Boyd, who was thus horribly scourged in his passage to the tomb.
Not yet satisfied, they added still another act of fiend- ish ferocity to the already unparalleled outrage. His head was severed from his body and attached to the end of a pole, with the expanded jaws of a dog just above it. And thus it was exhibited amidst the laughter and jeers of the more than half intoxicated tory and Indian faction.
When Gen. Sullivan learned the fate of Lieut. Boyd and Hanyerry, he made every possible effort to ferret out the dastard foe, hoping to avenge the barbarous act.
These unfortunate men, as reported by the journalist of Sullivan's campaign, were found in Little Beard's castle, bearing the marks of the most inhuman torture. Gen. Sullivan saw them respectably buried on the banks of Beard's Creek, in the midst of a number of Indian plum trees. In 1849 we visited the place, and looked upon the humble grave made consecrate by the remains of these brave and heroic men.
The Genesee castle as well as their town, which in- cluded one hundred and twenty-eight houses, fell into the conquerer's hands, but the artful foe had disappeared. Great efforts were made to ferret out their hiding-place, but in vain ; they were beyond the devastator's power.
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Vast quantities of corn, beans and potatoes were col- lected and placed in the houses, to which fire was ap- plied, and they were consumed. One of their numerous orchards contained fifteen hundred trees. But they, too, were devastated of their beauty.
The author of the Journal from which we have gath- ered our materials for this chapter, lived to tell us in his own glowing language how beautiful and Eden-like the Genesee valley, with its rich and waving products -the result of Indian toil-appeared previous to its being devastated by the victorious army.
The work of desolation was now complete. Forty of the Indian towns were laid in ruins. Not a house was left ; and the poor Indians felt that the ravagers' hands were upon them, for they had not left even food enough to sustain an infant's life for twenty-four hours.
When Gen. Sullivan arrived on his return march at the outlet of Seneca lake, he detached Col. Zebulon Butler, with the Rifle corps and five hundred men, to the east side of Cayuga lake, to lay waste the Indian settlements. The next day, and while encamped near Kandaia, Lieut. Col. Dearborn was detached with two hundred men for the purpose of destroying the settle- ment south of the lake, and but a little distant from the present prospective city of Ithaca.
Col. Butler pushed forward with his forces, and faith- fully performed the task assigned him. At that time the natives had large fields of corn, which presented a most luxuriant growth, and of which the Cayugas were intending to garner up for their winter's use. Patches of beans and potatoes exhibited the like promising ap- pearance. Nor was the fruit of their fine apple orchards
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less inviting to the soldier's eye, or gratifying to the Colonel's taste. Yet these trees of two hundred years' growth were felled to the ground. The products of the field-of hardy toil-were gathered into the Indian's rude dwellings and with them consumed by fire.
Three villages, to them of considerable importance, one of which was the capital of the Cayugas, were lo- cated near the shore of that magnificent sheet of water. Smaller settlements were scattered along the banks at various distances apart. But all, all were destroyed. Their cabins and castles were swept away, for the fatal element from the "white man's torch" was communicated to them, and soon all that remained to tell the wander- ing pioneer, as his eye caught sight of the flames as they gleamed heavenward, was a mass of smouldering ruins. Here the brave but unlettered red men had lived in unadorned peace ; and their council fire had burned for upwards of three centuries, serving as a beacon light to the returning warriors.
The mission of Col. Dearborn was alike successfully ·performed. Their wigwams were consumed, their maize burned up, and the home of their ancient gran- deur made desolate. Truly they were a wandering and stricken people. If the Indians in their stealthy marches had been cruel, the white man had been equally so. The one had oppressed for the sake of gain, while the other sought revenge as a just retaliation for the con- duct of his unmanly oppressor.
A little west of the residence of Dr. J. F. Burdick, and where he now has a flourishing peach orchard, were some eighteen or twenty cabins. Here lived a tall, swarthy Indian chief, generally known among the
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warriors of the Six Nations, as Long Jim, with whom he was a great favorite. He was of the Mohawk and Oneida extraction, and possessed many of the more prominent characteristics for which the two tribes have been so justly celebrated. He was usually kind, benev- olent and just, but if insulted without proper cause, would assume the ferocity of a tiger, and act the part of a demoniac monster. He was an orator and a war- rior, and possessed the art of swaying the multitude at his will. He believed in witches, hobgoblins and wizards, and often pretended to be influenced by a tute- lary goddess, or guardian spirit. Shrewd and artful, dignified and generous, yet at times deceptive and malevolent, he studied to acquire influence and power, and in most of his marauding depredations, was success- ful in keeping the arcana of his heart as in a " sealed fountain." His unwritten history represents him as acting a conspicuous part in numerous tragical events which were perpetrated by detached parties from Bur- goyne's army. A venerable chief, who resides on the New York Indian Reservation, informed us that, accord- ing to the tradition of his tribe, Long Jim was the main cause, instigator, and perpetrator of the bloody massa- cre which we are about to record.
A gentleman of character and fortune, and holding an honorable commission in the British army, had suc- ceeded in winning the affections of Miss Jane M'Crea, a young, intelligent and lovely girl, over whose head had passed scarce seventeen summers. Her father resided near Fort Edward, and was a prominent actor in the royal cause. Circumstances having required the services and personal attention of Mr. Jones, the
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plighted lover of Miss M'Crea, he was stationed at some distance from the paternal roof of her father, and becoming exceedingly anxious for her safety, offered various rewards as inducements to the Indians who would convey her in safety to his camp. At length the bold and hazardous enterprise was undertaken. A band of Winnebagoes set out for the home of the expectant bride, bearing a letter from the intended husband, in which he had made a faithful record of his unabated love for the cherished object of his heart. On their approach the family were much alarmed, and were about flying in terror from the house, that safety, if possible, might be found, if not nearer, at least in the fort. But just at this moment, the young and gallant chief of the band bade his followers to retire a little ; then beckoning to the frightened family, he held up the affectionate epistle, which unfortunately caught the attention of the mother, who readily conjectured the object of their mission. A token of friendship and welcome was returned, and the Indians, much pleased with the success of their chief, laughed heartily as they approached the worthy matron, each of whom she shook by the hand.
The seal of the little message was broken-the con- tents read and hastily considered-when Miss M'Crea prepared herself to accompany them to the British camp.
Thus far the expedition had been attended with the most perfect success, and they set out on their return with high hopes and lofty aspirations, for a keg of Eng- lish rum was the price to be paid for her safe escort to the fortress of her lover !
But when about half way back, they were met by a
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second party who had left for the achievement of the same purpose. Long Jim was the controlling spirit of his party, and was desirous of obtaining the prize. An altercation ensued, which finally rose to a warm dispute. Long Jim, unwilling to see the Winnebago chieftain proceed with the spotless object of the expedition, and presuming his party too weak to take her by force, suddenly seized her by the hair of the head, pulled her from the back of the noble steed, and with one demoniac stroke from the fatal tomahawk, cleft the scalp from the head of the fair young girl, and he bore it as a trophy to the astonished and heart-stricken lover.
This reckless and cold-blooded murder called forth a stern and feeling rebuke from Burgoyne ; and well it might, for it had a strong tendency to weaken the royal cause.
On the opposite side of the lake, where the Taughanic creek empties into the Tiohero, or Cayuga lake, the Indians had built a small town, and were growing corn, beans and potatoes on the rich flats. They had, also, apple trees of two and a half centuries' growth. This little town, called by the natives after the stream on which it was located, escaped the notice of Col. Butler, in consequence of his having passed up from East Cay- uga, by way of Aurora and Lavana, to the head of the Cayuga settlements.
There was another settlement about six miles south- west of Taughanic, near the present village of Water- burg, which, from its back location, was not discovered by either of the detached forces which General Sullivan had sent out to make havoc with the Indians' property.
4*
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The traces of a remarkable trench enclosure were distinctly to be seen in 1840, when the author last vis- ited the spot made consecrate by the uncoffined bones of a "once peculiar people." Near by was the burial place of their dead. At an earlier period many of the mounds were dug open, from which were collected nume- rous antiquated articles of Indian warfare, and which very closely resembled those used in a former age by Europeans. A few miles distant, William Carman found on his farnı a number of human bones, while he was extracting some stumps of trees of over two hundred years' growth. These olden relics were presumed by many to be of a larger race of people than the Indians. The presumption is possible, as there is much evidence in support of that opinion. We have seen several orna- ments, the texture and workmanship of which undoubt- edly belong to a different race, and probably date back to a remote period of our country, on which neither tra- dition or history can throw any light.
But to return. General Sullivan, after having sent sufficient forces to cut off the Indians and lay waste their settlements bordering the Cayuga lake, marched to "Catharine Town," and thence up the Chemung val- ley. Wearied with over-exertion, he paused with his gallant troops for the night on the rich flats about six miles north of Newtown, (now Elmira, ) and while here encamped, they concluded to abandon or dispose of about four hundred of their horses, in consequence of their worn-out and galled condition ; and to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy, though not a Red Roman appeared in sight, they were led out in In- dian file and shot down ; and hence originated the name
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of Horse Heads -- a name familiar to the general reader of American history.
Arriving at Newtown, they received a heart-cheering salute of thirteen guns from the Fort which had been thrown up by Captain Reid and his force of two hundred men, who had been left in charge of some stores which were forwarded from Tioga Point for the support of Sul- livan's army. While here, the news of Spain having declared war against Great Britain was received with unbounded joy. The event was celebrated in a man- ner which was well calculated to animate the drooping spirits of those who had periled health, happiness, and fortune in the support of American liberty. Five large oxen, one for each brigade, were killed and roasted, which, with the added trimmings and double rations, were dispatched in a way at once interesting and agree- able. During the festive proceedings, cannons were fired at intervals, which added much to the joy of the already excited heroes. Here Colonels Butler and Dear- born united with the main army.
Leaving Newtown, they returned by way of Tioga Point to Wyoming, where they arrived on the 7th of October, and in a few days after bent their course for Easton, and from thence to Morristown, New Jersey, where they took up their winter quarters.
There are very few expeditions on record, which proved so entirely successful in their general results, and which so fully met the hopes and expectations of the people and of Congress, as the one of which we have just given a hasty sketch.
The burning of Moscow was a terrible blow to Napo- leon and his unrivaled army, and which forever clouded
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the hopes of the imperial hero. It involved the sump- tuous palaces, monuments, and miracles of art, in one common flame. The devastation of the Indian country was as severe a chastisement inflicted upon the red men, and from the effects of which they never wholly recov- ered. Deprived of their homes and provisions, they were of necessity dependent upon the English for the necessaries of life. Provisions were extremely scarce and high. The winter was unusually severe, and hun- dreds " took the scurvy and died."
But though the Indians were greatly crippled, they were not subdued ; though defeated, they were not van- quished. They still made stealthy incursions into peace- able settlements, the history of whose attacks might be summed up in the fearful, sad, bloody, but brief record- surprise-massacre-conflagration-retreat.
As in the past so in the future, Brant was the rul- ing spirit. He could not brook the thought of being subdued. Disaster and defeat tended to make him the more daring and reckless. Yet Brant possessed many valuable traits of character-was often humane and benevolent. But we do not propose at this time to pen a sketch of his life-that is reserved for a future work, "The Indian Chiefs of America." As often as he was baffled in his endeavors to retrieve his loss upon the embattled field of glory, or failed in restoring to his nation the homes and hunting-grounds of their fathers, so often did the old chieftain gather his long-abused and often-betrayed followers around him, and with the envenomed rage of the famished tiger, when brought to bay by the hunters, make another and still another effort to regain the Indians' dominion-the Indians'
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ancient residence. If it was his custom to crouch and hide like the baited lion, it was but to leap with the greater vengeance-to dash with the greater force upon his antagonist-to make the victory more easy-the tragedy more terrible.
Soon after the close of Gen. Sullivan's campaign, a party consisting of between forty and fifty Indians and tories were found ranging about the wild mountain gorges of Wyoming, from whose dark retreats they stealthily made incursions, committing many and seri- ous depredations. They were fit subjects for plunder, rapine, and murder. They were ripe for any outrage, however dark, bloody, and heart-rending it might be, and it is doubtful whether a more cruel and unrelenting band of heartless desperadoes cursed our land at any time during the long and painful period of our country's revolution. They delighted in having an opportunity to wreak vengeance upon an American. To torture by acts the most barbarous, seemed to be the highest ob- ject of their ambition.
Capt. Bedlock, who was taken prisoner at the fiendish massacre, afterwards fell into the hands of these heart- less wretches. He was stripped of his clothing, had his body stuck full of pine splinters, his arms closely pin- ioned behind him, and his person attached by cords to a small tree. Around the wretched captive was then placed a mass of combustible matter, with a quantity of pine knots. Now commences the awful sacrifice. The fire is kindled around him, and when the terrific flames began to wreathe their death folds around his person, his two companions, Ransom and Durkee, were thrown into the middle of the crackling flames, where
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