VALLEY***


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THE MINUTE BOYS OF THE MOHAWK VALLEY

by JAMES OTIS

Author of "The Boys of Fort Schuyler," "The Boys of '98,"
"Teddy and Carrots," "Captain Tom, the Privateersman,"
"The Boys of 1745," "The Signal Boys of '75,"
"Under the Liberty Tree," "When Israel Putnam Served the King,"
"The Minute Boys of the Green Mountains," Etc., Etc.

Illustrated by A. Burnham Shute
[Illustration: "An Indian strode gravely into the encampment"]

1911






Contents

    I. Young Soldiers
   II. The Powwow
  III. Disappointment
   IV. On the Oriskany
    V. Divided Duty
   VI. Between the Lines
  VII. Insubordination
 VIII. The Ambush
   IX. The Indian Camp
    X. Prisoners
   XI. The Escape
  XII. In the Fort
 XIII. The Assault
  XIV. Mutiny
   XV. The Torture
  XVI. Short Allowance
 XVII. Perplexing Scenes
XVIII. Close Quarters
  XIX. The Pursuit
   XX. Enlisted Men




Foreword



It seems not only proper, but necessary, that I should explain how the
material for this story was obtained, and why it happens that I can thus
set down exactly what Noel Campbell thought and did, during certain times
while he was serving the patriot cause in the Mohawk Valley as few other
boys could have done.

At some time in Noel's life--most likely after he was grown to be a man
with children, and, perhaps, grandchildren of his own--he wrote many
letters to relatives of his in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, wherein he told
with considerable of detail that which he did during the War of the
Revolution, and more particularly while he and his friends were fighting
against that wily Indian sachem, Thayendanega. These letters, together
with many others concerning the struggles of our people for independence,
came into my keeping a long while ago, and from the lines written by Noel
Campbell I have put together the following story after much the same
fashion as he himself set it down.

When the work was begun I doubted if Thayendanega could have been
frightened by a party of boys who were playing at being soldiers, and
refused to make such statement until, quite by chance, I found the
following in Lossing's "Field-Book of the Revolution":

"It was a sunny morning toward the close of May, when Brant and his
warriors cautiously moved up to the brow of the lofty hill on the east
side of the town (Cherry Valley) to reconnoitre the settlement at their
feet. He was astonished and chagrined on seeing a fortification where he
supposed all was weak and defenceless, and greater was his disappointment
when quite a large and well-armed garrison appeared upon the esplanade in
front of Colonel Campbell's house.

"These soldiers were not as formidable as the sachem supposed, for they
were only half-grown boys, who, full of the martial spirit of the times,
had formed themselves into companies, and, armed with wooden guns and
swords, held regular drills each day.... He mistook the boys for
full-grown soldiers, and, considering an attack dangerous, moved his party
to a hiding-place in a deep ravine north of the village."

Then again I questioned if General Herkimer would have sent two boys as
messengers, even though an old and experienced soldier went with them,
when he must have had under his command many men grown who were thoroughly
familiar with Indian warfare. As if to combat this doubt, I found the
following statement by one who has written much concerning the struggles
of the colonists for freedom:

"As soon as St. Leger's approach up Oneida Lake was known to General
Herkimer, he summoned the militia of Tryon County to the succor of the
garrison at Fort Schuyler. They rendezvoused at Fort Dayton, on the German
Flats, and, on the day when the Indians encircled the fort, Herkimer was
near Oriskany with more than eight hundred men, eager to face the enemy.
He sent as messengers to Gansevoort two boys and a man, informing him of
his approach, and requesting him to apprise him of the arrival of the
couriers by discharging three guns in rapid succession, which he knew
would be heard at Oriskany."

Having thus proven, at least to my own satisfaction, that so much of
Noel's story was true, I set about verifying the other portions, and in no
single instance did I find that he had drawn upon his imagination,
therefore I resolved to write it down as the lad himself would have
spoken, being able, because of the letters, to put myself very nearly in
his place.

I would it had been possible to say more concerning Thayendanega and Sir
John Johnson, for they played important parts in the making of Mohawk
Valley history; but Noel's own account was of such length that I did not
feel warranted in adding to it.

To the best of my knowledge and belief, the tale of the "Minute Boys of
the Mohawk Valley" is no more than a narration of facts, as can be
verified by reference to any of our standard histories of the beginnings
of this nation.

If the reader can find in the reading one-half the pleasure I have had in
interpreting Noel Campbell's odd speech, and smoothing down his too
vigorous language, then will he be richly repaid for the perusal.

James Otis.




List of Illustrations



"An Indian strode gravely into the encampment"
"'You have done well to get back alive'"
"Sergeant Corney waved the bit of fringe slowly to and fro"
"'Tire 'em out, lads!' the General shouted"
"Three or four hundred Indians were dancing wildly around a huge fire"
"With upraised hands, stepped out from amid the screen of foliage"
"The painted villain sank down upon the ground"
"Keep a-movin' unless you're achin' to have a bullet through the back'"




Chapter I.

Young Soldiers



It sounds like an unreasonable tale, or something after the style of a
fairy-story, to say that a party of lads, drilling with wooden guns, were
able, without being conscious of the fact, to frighten from his bloody
work such a murderous, powerful sachem as Thayendanega, or Joseph Brant,
to use his English name, but such is the undisputed fact.

It was the month of May in the year of our Lord 1777, when we of Cherry
Valley, in the Province of New York, learned that this same Thayendanega,
a pure-blooded Mohawk Indian, whose father was chief of the Onondaga
nation, had come into the Mohawk Valley from Canada with a large force of
Indians, who, under the wicked tutoring of Sir John Johnson, were ripe for
mischief.

Col. Samuel Campbell, my uncle, was one of the leading patriots in that
section of the province, and it was well known that the Johnsons,--Sir
John and Guy,--the Butlers, Daniel Claus, and, in fact, all the Tories
nearabout, would direct that the first blow be struck at Cherry Valley, in
order that my uncle might be killed or made prisoner; therefore, at the
time when we lads frightened Joseph Brant without our own knowledge, we
were in daily fear of being set upon by our enemies.

Among the boys of the settlement I, Noel Campbell, was looked upon as a
leader simply because my uncle was the most influential Whig in the
vicinity, and my particular friend and comrade was Jacob Sitz, son of
Peter, a lad who could easily best us all in trials of strength or of
woodcraft.

We had heard of the Minute Men of Lexington and of the Green Mountains,
and when the day came that all the able-bodied men of our valley banded
themselves together for the protection of their homes against our
neighbors, the Tories, who thirsted for patriot blood, we lads decided
that we were old enough to do our share in whatsoever might be afoot.

Therefore it was that two score of us formed a league to help defend the
settlements, and gave ourselves the name of "Minute Boys of the Mohawk
Valley."

There was then living in Cherry Valley an old Prussian soldier by name
Cornelius Braun, who, in his native land, had won the rank of sergeant;
but, having grown too old for very active military duty, came to this
country with the idea of making a home for himself. Sergeant Corney, as
nearly every one called him, was not so old, however, but that he could
strike a blow, and a heavy one, in his own defence, and when he learned
what we lads proposed to do, he offered to drill us in the manual of arms.

We were not overly well equipped in the way of weapons, although it is
safe to say that each of us had a firearm of some sort; but it seemed to
give Sergeant Corney the fidgets to see us carrying such a motley
collection of guns, and he insisted on making a quantity of wooden muskets
to be used in the drill, to the end that we might present a more soldierly
appearance when lined up before him.

Therefore it was that, when we came each day on the green in front of my
uncle's house to go through such manoeuvres as our instructor thought
necessary, we had in our hands only those harmless wooden guns.

I was the captain of the company; Jacob Sitz acted as lieutenant, and all
the others were privates. Sergeant Corney, as a matter of course, was the
commander-in-chief.

On a certain day during the last week in May--the exact date I have
forgotten--we were drilling as usual, with Sergeant Corney finding more
fault than ever, when we frightened the famous Thayendanega away from an
attack on the settlement, although, as I have said, we knew nothing about
it until many months afterward.

It seems, as we learned later, that the villainous Brant had made all his
plans for an attack upon Cherry Valley, and had secretly gained a position
on the hill to the eastward of the place, counting on waiting there until
nightfall, when he might surprise us; but, much to his astonishment, he
saw what appeared from the distance to be a large body of well-equipped
soldiers evidently making ready for serious work.

The scoundrelly redskin was not so brave that he was willing to make an
attack where it seemed that the Whigs were prepared to receive him, and,
like the cur that he was, he marched his force to a hiding-place in a deep
ravine north of the settlement, near the road leading to the Mohawk River,
about a mile and a half from where we were drilling.

Now hardly more than an hour before it is probable that the Indians got
their first glimpse of us Minute Boys, Lieutenant Wormwood had arrived
from Fort Plain with information to my uncle that a force of patriot
soldiers was on the way to check Sir John's plans for killing all who did
not quite agree with him in politics, and to request that arrangements be
made to care for the men during such time as they might remain in that
vicinity.

When, late in the afternoon, the lieutenant was ready to return to Fort
Plain, Jacob's father, Peter Sitz, was ordered to accompany him as bearer
of a message from my uncle to the leader of the patriot force, and the two
men set off on horseback, we lads envying them because it seemed a fine
thing to ride to and fro over the country summoning this man or that to
his duty.

It was the last time Jacob saw his father until after many days had
passed, and what happened to the two horsemen we could only guess when the
lieutenant's lifeless body was found next day; but we learned the
particulars later.

It seems that when the messengers arrived near Brant's hiding-place, being
forced to pass by where the Indians were concealed in order to get to Fort
Plain, they were hailed by some one in the thicket; but instead of
replying, the men put spurs to their horses.

The savages in ambush fired a volley; Lieutenant Wormwood was killed
instantly, while Jacob's father was so seriously wounded that he fell from
his horse, and, a few seconds later, found himself a prisoner among
Brant's wolves.

When the tidings of this tragedy was brought into the settlement, Jacob
was overwhelmed with grief, as might have been expected, and even my uncle
had great difficulty in preventing the distressed lad from rushing into
the wilderness with the poor hope that he might be able, single-handed, to
effect his father's rescue.

He was only sixteen years of age--two months older than I; but within an
hour after we knew beyond a peradventure that Peter Sitz was a prisoner,
it seemed as if the lad had grown to be a man.

It was this first blow against the settlement of Cherry Valley by the
murderous Brant, which brought us Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley into
active service, for from that day we saw as much of warfare as did our
elders, and I am proud to be able to set down the fact that we performed
good work, although we failed, as did the men of the settlement, in
preventing it from being destroyed a year and a half later, while the
fighting force of the population was absent.

The murder of Lieutenant Wormwood was sufficient evidence that the Tories
and their savage allies were prepared to harry us, and within a very few
minutes after the body of the officer had been brought in, the men made
ready to defend their homes.

A council of war was immediately called, and while it was in session
Sergeant Corney made a proposition which was like to take away the breath
from those who looked upon us of the Minute Boys as mere children, for he
said in the tone of one who knows whereof he speaks:

"I've been drillin' a force that can do good work in what's before us, if
they're given a show, an' I'll answer for half a dozen of 'em,
guaranteein' they'll show themselves to be men."

"Are you speaking of the lads?" my uncle asked in surprise, and the old
man replied promptly;

"Ay, that I am, sir, an', unless all signs fail, there's never one of 'em
who'll bring reproach upon the settlement."

"What is your plan, Sergeant Braun?" Master Dunlap, the preacher, asked,
for so great did all believe the danger which threatened, that every man,
whether able-bodied or crippled, had been summoned to the council.

"It ain't what you might rightly call a plan, sir," Sergeant Corney
replied. "It's only an idee, brought out by the fact that from this time
we've got to keep a close watch on what's happenin' in this 'ere valley,
unless we're willin' to be murdered in our beds. There are boys enough in
the settlement to do the scoutin', leavin' the elders to stand by for
defence, an' I see no good reason why they shouldn't perform full share of
military duty."

"Think you a lad like my nephew Noel could render any valuable assistance
at such a time as this?" my uncle asked, with a smile, as if believing he
had put an end to the old man's proposition, and my cheeks reddened with
excitement and fear lest Sergeant Corney should allow himself to be backed
down, as I listened intently for the answer.

It was not long in coming, and I could have kissed the old soldier for
speaking as he did.

"Give me him an' Jacob Sitz, sir, an' I'll guarantee to follow
Thayendanega an' his precious scoundrels till we know what deviltry
they've got in mind."

"You shall have full charge of all the boys in the settlement, and we will
see if you can make good your boast," my uncle, who held command of