  Walter N. Butler—His flight from Albany, bent on revenge—The Great Tree—Hostile indications among the Senecas and Cayugas—Premonitions of an attack by Butler and Brant upon Cherry Valley—Discredited by Colonel Alden—Scouts sent out and captured—Surprise of the town—Massacre and burning—Death of Colonel Alden—Families of Mr. Wells, Mr. Dunlop, and others—Brutality of the Tories—Family of Mr. Mitchell—The monster Newberry—Departure of the enemy with their captives—A night of gloom—Women and children sent back—Letter of Butler to Gen. Schuyler—Murder of Mrs. Campbell's mother—Vindication of Brant—Interesting incident—Brant's opinion of Capt. McKean—Colonel John Butler laments the conduct of his son—Letter of General James Clinton to Walter Butler—Letter of Butler in reply—Molly Brant—Particulars of Mrs. Campbell's captivity—Feast of thanksgiving for their victory—The great feast of the White Dogs—Return of Walter Butler from Quebec—Colonel Butler negotiates with the Indians for Mrs. Campbell—She goes to Niagara—Catharine Montour and her sons—Mrs. Campbell finds her children—Descends the St. Lawrence to Montreal—Meets Mrs. Butler—Arrives at Albany, and is joined by her husband—Grand campaign projected—Jacob Helmer and others sent privately to Johnstown for the iron chest of Sir John—Execution of Helmer—Arrival of British Commissioners—Not received—Exchange of Ministers with France—Incidents of the war elsewhere for the year. The arrest of Walter N. Butler, at the German Flats, in the Summer of 1777; his trial, and condemnation to death; his reprieve; as also his subsequent imprisonment in Albany, and his escape; are facts with which the reader has already been made acquainted. Although his execution would have been perfectly justifiable under the code militaire, taken, as he had been, within the American lines, in the very act of inviting the people to treason; yet the respectability of his family, and the associations he had himself formed in Albany, where he had been educated to the profession of the law, were the causes, through the interposition of those who had been his personal friends before the war, of saving his life. Still, the reprieve granted by General Arnold was followed by rigorous confinement in the jail at Albany until the Spring of the present year; when, being either sick in reality, or feigning to be so, through the clemency of General Lafayette his quarters were changed to a private house, where he was guarded by a single sentinel. It appears that the family with whom he lodged were Tories at heart; and having succeeded in making the sentinel drunk, through their assistance Butler was enabled to effect his escape. A horse having been provided for him, he succeeded in joining his father at Niagara soon after the affair at Wyoming. His temper was severe and irascible; but he was nevertheless not without his good qualities, and was a young man of fair promise—"a pretty able young lawyer," to use an expression from the lips of one who knew him well. [FN] It is believed, however, that he took mortal offence at his treatment while in Albany, and re-entered the service of the Crown, burning with resentment and thirsting for revenge. [FN] The venerable John Frank of German Flats. Butler studied law with the late Francis Sylvester. This recapitulation, in part, of a portion of the younger Butler's history, is deemed essential in connexion with the events to be recorded in the present chapter. There was with General Washington, during most of the Summer, a Seneca chief, called The Great Tree, who, on leaving the head-quarters of the Commander-in-chief, professed the strongest friendship for the American cause, and his first object, after his return to his own people, was to inspire them with his own friendly sentiments. While passing through the Oneida nation on his way home, he professed the strongest confidence in his ability to keep his own tribe bound in the chain of friendship, and pledged himself, in the event of his failure, to come down with his friends and adherents, and join the Oneidas. Early in October, Mr. Dean, the Indian interpreter and agent in the Oneida territory, wrote to Major Cochran, then in command of Fort Schuyler, that, not hearing from The Great Tree as soon as they expected, they had despatched messengers to the Seneca country, who had returned with unfavorable intelligence. It was stated, that on his arrival in his own country The Great Tree found his tribe all in arms. The warriors had been collected from the remotest of their lodges, and were then thronging the two principal towns, Kanadaseago and Jennesee. Having heard that the Americans were preparing an expedition against their country, they had flown to arms; and The Great Tree was himself determined to chastise the enemy who should dare to penetrate his country. The Oneida messengers were farther told that all the Indians west of their own tribe, including, of course, the Onondagas, together with the Indian settlements on the Susquehanna and its branches, were to join them. They were to rendezvous somewhere on the Tioga, and make a descent either upon the Pennsylvania or New Jersey frontier. [FN] [FN] Letter of Major Cochran to Col. Gansevoort, October 10, 1778. The Mohawk chief, Thayendanegea, does not appear to have been among the Senecas at this time; and it is believed that the fermentation had been wrought by Butler, after his return to Niagara. Be that as it may, he obtained the command of a detachment of his father's rangers, with permission to employ the forces of Captain Brant. Though late in the season, young Walter determined to undertake an expedition into Tryon County, and avenge his imprisonment. [FN] It has been asserted, that while on his way from Niagara with his rangers, Butler met Brant returning from the Susquehanna country to his old winter-quarters at Niagara, and that the proud Mohawk was not a little displeased at the idea of being assigned to a subordinate station under a man whom he cordially disliked. However, the difficulty was adjusted, and the sachem was prevailed upon to turn back upon the white settlements, with five hundred of his warriors. The united force comprised seven hundred men. [FN] Campbell's Annals. The point selected by the enemy was Cherry Valley—a settlement as remarkable for the respectability of its inhabitants, as its location was for its beauty. Unlike the generality of border settlements, the people were intelligent, and exemplary for their morals. So scrupulous were they in regard to observing the precepts of Christianity, that their Committee of Safety declined sitting with the Tryon County Committee on the Sabbath day—unless in the event of such alarming circumstances as would necessarily "super-exceed the duties to be performed in attending the public worship of God;"—which, they said, did not then appear to be the case. [FN] [FN] Letter to Tryon County Committee, signed by John Moore, Samuel Clyde, and Samuel Campbell, dated June 9, 1775. It has already been stated, that in consequence of their exposed situation, the Marquis de Lafayette had directed the erection of a fortification at that place early the preceding Spring. Colonel Gansevoort at once solicited the command of the post, with the regiment which had so greatly distinguished itself the preceding year in the defence of Fort Schuyler. But it was given to Colonel Ichabod Alden, at the head of an eastern regiment, unfortunately but little accustomed to Indian warfare. On the 8th of November, Colonel Alden received a despatch from Fort Schuyler by express, advising him that his post was to be attacked by the Tories and Indians. The intelligence had been conveyed to Fort Schuyler by an Oneida Indian, reporting that he received it from one of the Onondagas, who had been present at a great meeting of the Indians and Tories at Tioga, at which the determination was formed. In consequence of the lateness of the season, the inhabitants, not anticipating any farther hostilities before Spring, had removed their effects from the fortification, where, during the Summer, they had been deposited for safety, back to their own dwellings. On the receipt of this intelligence, they requested permission to remove once more into the fort, or at least to be allowed again to deposite their most valuable property within its walls. But Colonel Alden, discrediting the intelligence as an idle Indian rumor, denied their solicitations, assuring the people that he would use all diligence against surprise, and by means of vigilant scouts, be at all times prepared to warn them of approaching danger. Accordingly scouts were despatched in various directions on the 9th. The party proceeding down the Susquehanna, as it were in the very face of the enemy, very wisely kindled a fire in the evening, by the side of which they laid themselves down to sleep. The result might have been foreseen. They were all prisoners when they awoke! Extorting all necessary information from the prisoners so opportunely taken, the enemy moved forward on the 10th—Butler with his rangers, and Thayendanegea with his Indians—encamping for the night on the top of a hill, thickly covered with evergreens, about a mile south-west of the fort and village of Cherry Valley. The snow fell several inches during the night—the storm turning to rain in the morning, with a thick and cloudy atmosphere. The officers of the garrison were accustomed to lodge about among the families near the fort; and from the assurances of Colonel Alden, the apprehensions of the people were so much allayed, that they were reposing in perfect security. Colonel Alden himself, with Stacia, his lieutenant-colonel, lodged with Mr. Robert Wells, a gentleman of great respectability, recently a judge of the county, who was, moreover, an intimate friend of Colonel John Butler, as he had also been of Sir William Johnson. [FN-1] Having ascertained the localities in which the officers lodged, the enemy approached the unsuspecting village in the greatest security, veiled by the haze which hung in the atmosphere. An alarm was, however, given, before the enemy had actually arrived in the village, by the firing of an Indian upon a settler from the outskirts, who was riding thither on horseback. He was wounded, but nevertheless pushed forward, and gave instant information to the vigilant Colonel. Strange as it may seem, this officer still disbelieved the approach of an enemy in force—supposing the shot to have proceeded from a straggler. But he was soon convinced of his error; for even before the guards could be called in, the Indians were upon them. Unfortunately, probably, for the inhabitants, the rangers had halted just before entering the village to examine their arms, the rain having damaged their powder. During this pause, the Indians sprang forward; and the Senecas, being at that period the most ferocious of the Six Nations, were in the van. The house of Mr. Wells was instantly surrounded by the warriors of that tribe, and several Tories of no less ferocity, who rushed in and massacred the whole family, consisting at that time of himself, his mother, his wife, his brother and sister, John and Jane, three of his sons, Samuel, Robert, and William, and his daughter Eleanor. The only survivor of the family was John, who was then at school in Schenectady. His father had taken his family to that place for safety some months before, but his fears having subsided, they had just removed back to their home. [FN-2] Colonel Alden, having escaped from the house, was pursued some distance down a hill by an Indian, who repeatedly demanded of him to surrender. This, however, he refused to do, turning upon his pursuer repeatedly, and snapping his pistol, but without effect. The Indian ultimately hurled his tomahawk with unerring direction at his head, and rushing forward, tore his scalp from him in the same instant. Thus, in the very outset of the battle, fell the commander, who, had he been as prudent as he was brave, might have averted the tragic scenes of that hapless day. Lieutenant-colonel Stacia was made prisoner; and the American guards, stationed at the house of Mr. Wells, were all either killed or taken. [FN-1] Robert Wells was the father of the late distinguished counselor, John Wells, of New-York. [FN-2] Notice of John Wells by William Johnson, Esq. concluding vol. of Johnson's Reports. The destruction of the family of Mr. Wells was marked by circumstances of peculiar barbarity. It was boasted by one of the Tories, that he had killed Mr. Wells while engaged in prayer—certainly a happy moment for a soul to wing its flight to another state of existence; but what the degree of hardihood that could boast of compassing the death of an unarmed man at such a moment! His sister Jane was distinguished alike for her beauty, her accomplishments, and her virtues. As the savages rushed into the house, she fled to a pile of wood on the premises, and endeavored to conceal herself. She was pursued and arrested by an Indian, who, with perfect composure, wiped and sheathed his dripping knife, and took his tomahawk from his girdle. At this instant a Tory, who had formerly been a domestic in the family, sprang forward and interposed in her behalf—claiming her as a sister. The maiden, too, who understood somewhat of the Indian language, implored for mercy. But in vain. With one hand the Indian pushed the Tory from him, and with the other planted his hatchet deep into her temple! The fort was repeatedly assaulted during the day, and at times with spirit; but Indians are not the right description of troops for such service, and being received by a brisk fire of grape and musketry from the garrison, they avoided the fort, and directed their attention chiefly to plundering and laying waste the village, having sated themselves in the onset with blood. In this work of destruction they were unmolested, since, numbering more than twice as many as the garrison, a sortie was felt to be unwarrantable. Among the families which suffered from the tomahawks of the Indians and Tories—for the latter, as at Wyoming, were not to be outdone by their uncivilized allies—were those of the Rev. Samuel Dunlop, and a Mr. Mitchell. Mrs. Dunlop was killed outright, and thus shared the fate of Mrs. Wells, who was her daughter. Mr. Dunlop and another daughter would likewise have been murdered but for the interposition of Little Aaron, a chief of the Oghkwaga branch of the Mohawks, who led the old gentleman, tottering beneath the weight of years, to the door, and stood beside him for his protection. The Indians attempted to plunder him of some of his attire, but the sachem compelled them to relinquish that portion of their spoil. The venerable servant of God, shocked by the events of that day beyond the strength of his nerves, died within a year afterward. The case of Mr. Mitchell was still more painful. He was in the field at work when he beheld the Indians approaching; and being already cut off from his house, his only course was to betake himself to the woods. On returning to his home, after the enemy had retired, he found his house on fire, and within its plundered walls the murdered bodies of his wife and three of his children. The fourth, a little girl of ten or twelve years of age, had been left for dead. But signs of life appearing, the parent, having extinguished the fire, which had not yet made much progress, brought his little mangled daughter forth to the door, and while bending over her, discovered a straggling party of the enemy approaching. He had but just time to conceal himself, before a Tory sergeant, named Newberry, rushed forward, and by a blow of his hatchet extinguished what little growing hope of life had been left, by a darker though less savage enemy than himself. It is some consolation, while recording this deed of blood, to be able to anticipate the course of events, so far as to announce that this brutal fellow paid the forfeit of his life on the gallows, by order of General James Clinton, at Canajoharie, in the summer of the following year. On the next day Mr. Mitchell removed his dead to the fort with his own arms, and the soldiers assisted in their interment. Several other families were cut off—the whole number of the inhabitants slain being thirty-two, mostly women and children. In addition to these, sixteen soldiers were killed. Some of the inhabitants escaped, but the greater proportion were taken prisoners. Among the former were Mrs. Clyde, the wife of Colonel Clyde, who was absent, and her family. She succeeded in reaching the woods with her children, excepting her eldest daughter, whom she could not find at the moment; and although the savages were frequently prowling around her, she yet lay secure in her concealment until the next day. The eldest daughter, likewise, had made a successful flight, and returned in safety. Colonel Campbell was also absent; but hastening home on hearing the alarm, he arrived only in time to behold the destruction of his property by the conflagration of the village, and to ascertain that his wife and children had been carried into captivity. [FN] The torch was applied indiscriminately to every dwelling-house, and, in fact, to every building in the village. The barns, being filled with the combustible products of husbandry, served to render the conflagration more fierce and terrific; especially to the fugitive inhabitants who had escaped to the woods for shelter, and whose sufferings were aggravated by the consciousness that their retreating footsteps were lighted by the flames of their own households. [FN] Colonel Campbell was the grandfather of the author of the Annals of Tryon County, so frequently referred to in the present volume, to whom the author is almost exclusively indebted for the facts respecting the invasion of Cherry Valley. The author of the Annals being himself a native of that place, was not only familiar with its history from his cradle, but has taken great pains to collect the facts. There is indeed no other reliable authority. Ramsay is equally brief and unsatisfactory; while Macauley's wretched jumble of every thing, called, for what reason cannot be divined, a History of New-York, contains the most foul misrepresentations. The massacre was bad enough, in all conscience; but when it is stated that, "not content with killing the inhabitants, they ripped open and quartered the women, and then suspended their mangled limbs on the trees—that the helpless infants were taken from their mothers' breasts, and their brains knocked out against the posts,"—and when these statements are compared with the real facts of the case, we may well tremble for the truth of history. The simple incident which gave rise to this shocking tale of mutilating the bodies of the dying and dead, was this. One of the Tories had lived as a domestic with the Rev. Mr. Dunlop. He had run away in consequence of ill-treatment, as was alleged, on the part of Mrs. D. After she was slain, it is said he cut off her hand. But even this story is of doubtful authenticity. The prisoners taken numbered between thirty and forty. They were marched, on the evening of the massacre, down the valley about two miles south of the fort, where the enemy encamped for the night. Large fires were kindled round about the camp, into the centre of which the prisoners, of all ages and sexes, were promiscuously huddled, and there compelled to pass the hours till morning—many of them half naked, shivering from the inclemency of the weather, with no shelter but the frowning heavens, and no bed but the cold ground. It was a dismal night for the hapless group—rendered, if possible, still more painful by the savage yells of exultation, the wild, half-frantic revelry, and other manifestations of joy on the part of the victors, at the success of their bloody enterprise. In the course of the night a division of the spoil was made among the Indians, and on the following morning the march was resumed; although parties of the Indians returned to prowl among the ruins of the village or hang upon its outskirts, during the greater part of the day, and until reinforcements of militia from the Mohawk Valley began to arrive, when they dispersed. The retiring enemy had not proceeded far on their way, before the prisoners, with few exceptions, experienced a change in their circumstances, as happy as it was unexpected. They had been separated, for the convenience of traveling, into small groups, in charge of different parties of the enemy. On coming to a halt, they were collected together, and informed that it had been determined to release all the women and children, excepting Mrs. Campbell and her four children, and Mrs. Moore and her children. These it was resolved to detain in captivity as a punishment to their husbands, for the activity they had displayed in the border wars. With these exceptions, the women and their little ones were immediately sent back, bearing the following letter from the commander of the rangers, addressed to General Schuyler. As a key to the letter, and perhaps, also, to the motives of Captain Butler in this act of humanity, it should here be remarked, that on the flight of his father and himself to Canada, his mother and the younger children had been left behind. Mrs. Butler and her children were detained by the Committee of Safety, and permission to follow the husband and son to Canada had been refused, as has been stated in a former chapter:— "Captain Butler to General Schuyler. "Sir, "I am induced by humanity to permit the persons whose names I send herewith, to return, lest the inclemency of the season, and their naked and helpless situation, might prove fatal to them, and expect that you will release an equal number of our people in your hands, amongst whom I expect you will permit Mrs. Butler and family to come to Canada; but if you insist upon it, I do engage to send you, moreover, an equal number of prisoners of yours, taken either by the Rangers or Indians, and will leave it to you to name the persons. I have done every thing in my power to restrain the fury of the Indians from hurting women and children, or killing the prisoners who fell into our hands, and would have more effectually prevented them, but that they were much incensed by the late destruction of their village of Anguaga [FN-1] by your people. I shall always continue to act in that manner. I look upon it beneath the character of a soldier to wage war with women and children. I am sure you are conscious that Colonel Butler or myself have no desire that your women or children should be hurt. But, be assured, that if you persevere in detaining my father's family with you, that we shall no longer take the same pains to restrain the Indians from prisoners, women and children, that we have heretofore done. "I am, your humble servant, Walter N. Butler, Capt. Com. of the Rangers. "General Schuyler." [FN-2] [FN-1] One of the old names of Unadilla. [FN-2] This letter was recently found among the papers of General James Clinton. Having thus, in a great measure, disencumbered themselves of their prisoners, the enemy proceeded on their journey by their usual route at that period, down the Susquehanna to its confluence with the Tioga, thence up that river into the Seneca country, and thence to Niagara. Mrs. Cannon, an aged lady, and the mother of Mrs. Campbell, was likewise held in captivity; but being unfitted for traveling by reason of her years, the Indian having both in charge despatched the mother with his hatchet, by the side of the daughter, on the second day of their march. Mrs. Campbell was driven along by the uplifted hatchet, having a child in her arms eighteen months old, with barbarous rapidity, until the next day, when she was favored with a more humane master. In the course of the march a straggling party of the Indians massacred an English family named Buxton, residing on the Butternut Creek, and reduced their buildings to ashes. [FN] [FN] There is some reason to doubt whether this murder of the Buxtons was not the work of the Oneidas, during their excursion to Unadilla and the Butternuts. Thus terminated the expedition of Walter N. Butler and Joseph Brant to Cherry Valley. Nothing could exhibit an aspect of more entire desolation than did the site of that village on the following day, when the militia from the Mohawk arrived, too late to afford assistance. "The cocks crowed from the tops of the forest trees, and the dogs howled through the fields and woods." The inhabitants who escaped the massacre, and those who returned from captivity, abandoned the settlement, until the return of peace should enable them to plant themselves down once more in safety; and in the succeeding Summer the garrison was withdrawn and the post abandoned. Next to the destruction of Wyoming, that of Cherry Valley stands out in history as having been the most conspicuous for its atrocity. And as in the case of Wyoming, both in history and popular tradition, Joseph Brant has been held up as the foul fiend of the barbarians, and of all others deserving the deepest execration. Even the learned and estimable counselor, who so long reported the adjudicated law of the State of New-York, [FN-1] in the tribute to the memory of the late John Wells, with which he closed the last volume of his juridical labors, has fallen into the same popular error; and applies the second stanza in the striking passage of "Gertrude of Wyoming," which called forth the younger Brant in vindication of his father's memory, to the case of his departed and eminent friend. [FN-2] It was indeed most true as applied to the melancholy case of Mr. Wells, of whose kindred "nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth," had been left by the Indians. But it may be fearlessly asserted that it was not true as coupled with the name of Joseph Brant. It has already been seen that Brant was not the commander of this expedition; and if he had been, it is not certain that he could have compelled a different result. But it is certain that his conduct on that fatal day was neither barbarous nor ungenerous. On the contrary, he did all in his power to prevent the shedding of innocent blood; and had it not been for a circumstance beyond his control, it is more than probable that the distinguished counselor referred to, would not have been left "alone of all his race." Captain Brant asserted, and there is no reason to question his veracity, that on the morning of the attack, he left the main body of the Indians, and endeavored to anticipate their arrival at the house of Mr. Wells, for the purpose of affording protection to the family. On his way it was necessary to cross a ploughed field, the yielding of the earth in which, beneath his tread, so retarded his progress, that he arrived too late. [FN-1] William Johnson, Esq. long reporter of the Supreme Court, the Court of Errors, and the Court of Chancery of this State. [FN-2] The passage referred to—as unjust as it is poetical—will be found near the close of the second volume of the present work, in the sketch of the life of the younger Brant. But this is not all. On entering one of the dwellings, he found a woman employed in household matters. "Are you thus engaged," inquired the chief, "while all your neighbors are murdered around you?" The woman replied that they were in favor of the King. "That plea will not avail you today," replied the warrior. "They have murdered Mr. Wells's family, who were as dear to me as my own." "But," continued the woman, "there is one Joseph Brant: if he is with the Indians, he will save us." "I am Joseph Brant!" was the quick response; "but I have not the command, and I know not that I can save you; but I will do what is in my power." At the moment of uttering these words, he observed the Senecas approaching. "Get into bed quick," he commanded her, "and feign yourself sick." The woman obeyed, and when the Indians came up, he put them off with that pretext. Instantly as they departed, he rallied a few of his Mohawks by a shrill signal, and directed them to paint his mark upon the woman and her children. "You are now probably safe," he remarked—and departed. [FN] [FN] It is an Indian practice thus to mark, their captives, and the known mark of a tribe or chief is a protection from danger at other hands. Another instance, from the same authority, [FN] will serve farther to illustrate the conduct and bearing of this distinguished Indian leader on that occasion: After the battle was over, he inquired of one of the captives for Captain McKean, who had retired to the Mohawk Valley with his family. "He sent me a challenge once," said the chief; "I have now come to accept it. He is a fine soldier thus to retreat!" It was said in reply: "Captain McKean would not turn his back upon an enemy where there was a probability of success." "I know it," rejoined Brant; "he is a brave man and I would have given more to take him than any other man in Cherry Valley; but I would not have hurt a hair of his head." [FN] Campbell's Annals. These were generous sentiments, worthy of a generous soldier. Indeed, the whole conduct of the Mohawk chief on that melancholy day was anything rather than characteristic of the "monster" Brant has been represented to be. Of the conduct of the leader of the expedition, Captain Walter N. Butler, a less charitable judgment must be formed—not so much perhaps on account of the atrocities committed—because these, too, may have been beyond his control, or suddenly perpetrated without his knowledge—but because the expedition was entirely one of his own undertaking. It was said that Colonel John Butler was grieved at the conduct of his son at this place; remarking, on one occasion, in regard to the murder of Mr. Wells and family—"I would have gone miles on my hands and knees to save that family, and why my son did not do it, God only knows." It has also been asserted that the Colonel accused Brant of having incited the Indians secretly to commit the excesses in question, in order to bring odium upon his son, under whose command, as the reader has already been informed, he had been placed, strongly in opposition to his own wishes. But the Mohawk repelled the charge, and appealed to his former conduct, particularly in the case of Springfield, as a vindication of his character from the imputation of wanton cruelty. On the other hand, it has been laid to the charge of Butler, that when, on the night preceding the massacre, some of his rangers desired secretly to apprise their friends in the village of the storm which was to burst upon them in the morning, he peremptorily denied the request—apprehending that if a few were ever so cautiously admonished of the approaching danger, the tidings would be bruited and the whole village escape. [FN] [FN] Campbell's Annals. These things may, or they may not, be true. But in either case the loyalist Butlers, father and son, should be justly dealt by, although they have not been as yet. At least the world has never heard what they might possibly have said in their own defence—nay, what they did say—in regard to the affairs of Wyoming and Cherry Valley; and candor requires the admission, that the narratives of those events which have descended to us, were written too soon after their occurrence to warrant a belief in the entire impartiality of the writers. But as truth constitutes the great excellence of history, and as a just opinion can rarely be formed upon testimony altogether exparte after fifty-eight years of silence, it may be allowed to the Butlers, though dead, to speak a word for themselves. The elder Butler lived at Niagara many years after the close of the contest; and, though employed in the British Indian Department, his conduct was such, both in public and private life, as to command the respect of those who knew him. The letter of Captain Butler to General Schuyler, written the day after the affair at Cherry Valley, was delivered by the gentleman who, of all others, felt the greatest interest in facilitating the arrangement proposed—Colonel Campbell himself. It was not answered by General Schuyler, for the reason that he was not then in command of the district; and for the still farther reason that, from the circumstances of the case, it took a different direction. On the 1st of January, however, the following letter upon the subject was addressed to Captain Butler by Brigadier-General James Clinton:— "General Clinton to Captain Butler. "Sir, "A letter, dated the 12th of November last, signed by you, and directed to General Schuyler, and which was delivered by John Campbell, is come to hand. As its contents related to persons who were citizens of the State, with which the military do not interfere, the letter was not delivered to Brigadier-General Hand, who commanded in this department, but transmitted to his Excellency Governor Clinton, that his pleasure might be known on its contents. He has authorized me to make the exchange you request. I am at a loss to know not only where to direct to you, but also in what part of the country the unhappy prisoners taken from this State have been carried. I therefore send the bearers, A. B. and C. D. with a flag, to carry this letter to any place where they may learn you are, or any other officer who can accomplish the exchange in your absence. Should the prisoners be in any of the Indian villages, and in a condition to be moved, you will please to send them to the nearest of our settlements; or, if you do not choose to do that, I will send proper persons to meet and receive them at any place you may appoint. I am not informed if Mrs. Butler, her family, and such others as will be given in exchange for those you have in captivity, and those you have suffered to return as mentioned in your letter, would choose to move at this inclement season. If they do, they shall be sent. If not, they may remain until Spring; and then they may either go to Oswego or Canada, at their option. Should the prisoners taken at Cherry Valley, or any others belonging to the State of New-York, be at Niagara, it will be impossible for them to re-turn until Spring; and then I request that they may be sent to Oswego or Fort Schuyler, and that you will send notice of your determination, that provision may be made accordingly. Do not flatter yourself, sir, that your father's family have been detained on account of any consequence they were supposed to be of, or that it is determined they should be exchanged in consideration of the threat contained in your letter. I should hope, for the sake of human nature and the honor of civilized nations, that the British officers had exerted themselves in restraining the barbarity of the savages. But it is difficult even for the most disinterested mind to believe it, as numerous instances of barbarity have been perpetrated where savages were not present—or, if they were, the British force was not sufficient to restrain them, had there been a real desire so to do. The enormous murders committed at Wyoming and Cherry Valley would clearly have justified a retaliation; and that your mother did not fall a sacrifice to the resentment of the survivors of those families who were so barbarously massacred, is owing to the humane principles which the conduct of their enemies evinces a belief that they are utterly strangers to. The flag will carry their arms with them, that they may furnish themselves with provisions, should what they set out with be expended before they reach any places where they can be supplied. As Captain Butler may be absent, I enclose a copy of this letter to General Schuyler. "I am, &c, James Clinton, "To Captain Walter Butler, or any officer in the British service to whom this may be handed." [FN] [FN] This letter has been copied from the original draft, among the papers of General Clinton. This letter reached its destination in due season, and called forth the following reply from Captain Butler, written in behalf of his father and himself:— "Captain Butler to General Clinton. "Sir, "I have received a letter dated the 1st January last, signed by you, in answer to mine of the 12th November. "Its contents I communicated to Lieutenant Colonel Bolton, the commanding officer of this garrison, &c. by whom I am directed to acquaint you, that he had no objection that an exchange of prisoners, as mentioned in your letter, should take place; but not being fully empowered by his Excellency—General Haldimand [FN]—to order the same immediately to be put in execution, has thought proper I should go down to the Commander-in-chief for his direction in the matter." [FN] General Sir Frederick Haldimand had previous to this time superseded Sir Guy Carleton in the command of the Canadas. "In the mean time, Colonel Butler, as he ever has done on every other occasion, will make every effort in his power to have all the prisoners, as well those belonging to your troops, as the women and children, in captivity among the different Indian nations, collected and sent in to this post to be forwarded to Crown Point, should the exchange take place by the way of Canada, or to Oswego, if settled there. In either case Colonel Bolton desires me to inform you that the prisoners shall receive from him what assistance their wants may require, which prisoners have at all times received at this post. "The disagreeable situation of your people in the Indian villages, as well as ours amongst you, will induce me to make all the expedition in my power to Canada, (Quebec,) in order that the exchange may be settled as soon as possible. For the good of both, I make no doubt that his Excellency General Haldimand will acquiesce in the proper exchange. The season of the year renders it impossible that it should take place before the 10th or 15th May next. However, I shall write you, by the way of Crown Point, General Haldimand's determination, and when and where the exchange will be most agreeable to him to be made, I could wish Mrs. Butler and her family, including Mrs. Scheehan and son, and Mrs. Wall, were permitted to go to Canada in the Spring, even should the exchange be fixed at Ontario. "It is not our present business, sir, to enter into an altercation, or to reflect on the conduct of either the British or the Continental forces, or on that of each other; but since you have charged (on report, I must suppose) the British officers in general with inhumanity, and Colonel Butler and myself in particular; in justice to them, and in vindication of his and my own honor and character, I am under the disagreeable necessity to declare the charge unjust and void of truth, and which can only tend to deceive the world, though a favorite cry of the Congress on every occasion, whether in truth or not. "We deny any cruelties to have been committed at Wyoming, either by whites or Indians; so far to the contrary, that not a man, woman, or child was hurt after the capitulation, or a woman or child before it, and none taken into captivity. Though, should you call it inhumanity the killing men in arms in the field, we in that case plead guilty. The inhabitants killed at Cherry Valley does not lay at my door—my conscience acquits. If any are guilty (as accessories) it's yourselves; at least the conduct of some of your officers. First, Colonel Hartley, of your forces, sent to the Indians the enclosed, being a copy of his letter charging them with crimes they never committed, and threatening them and their villages with fire and sword and no quarters. The burning of one of their villages, then inhabited only by a few families—your friends—who imagined they might remain in peace and friendship with you, till assured a few hours before the arrival of your troops that they should not even receive quarters, took to the woods; and, to complete the matter, Colonel Denniston and his people appearing again in arms with Colonel Hartley, after a solemn capitulation and engagement not to bear arms during the war, and Colonel Denniston not performing a promise to release a number of soldiers belonging to Colonel Butler's corps of rangers, then prisoners among you, were the reasons assigned by the Indians to me, after the destruction of Cherry Valley, for their not acting in the same manner as at Wyoming. They added, that being charged by their enemies with what they never had done, and threatened by them, they had determined to convince you it was not fear which had prevented them from committing the one, and that they did not want spirit to put your threats against them in force against yourselves. "The prisoners sent back by me, or any now in our or the Indians' hands, must declare I did every thing in my power to prevent the Indians killing the prisoners, or taking women and children captive, or in any wise injuring them. Colonel Stacey and several other officers of yours, when exchanged, will acquit me; and must further declare, that they have received every assistance, before and since their arrival at this post, that could be got to relieve their wants. I must, however, beg leave, by the bye, to observe, that I experienced no humanity, or even common justice, during my imprisonment among you. "I enclose you a list of officers and privates whom I should be glad were exchanged likewise. The list of the families we expect for those as well sent back as others in our hands, you have likewise enclosed. "Colonel Stacey, and several officers and others, your people, are at this post, and have leave to write. "I am, Your very humble serv't., Walter N. Butler, Captain corps of Rangers. "Brigadier Gen. Clinton, } of the Continental forces."} This is a straight-forward, manly letter; and when the impartial reader is weighing the testimony in regard to the transactions of which it speaks, it certainly deserves consideration. It is, moreover, believed to be the first time that the accused have been permitted to relate their own side of the case. There were, no doubt, bloody outrages committed—probably upon both sides—because in such a contest, waged by borderers, many of whom, as has been seen, were previously burning with indignation against each other, it is hardly to be expected that individual combatants would always contend hand to hand with all the courtesy which characterised gallant knights in the days of chivalry. In justice to Colonel John Butler, moreover, it must be admitted that his conduct toward his prisoners at Niagara, and among the Indians in that country, was uniformly characterised by humanity. One proof of this disposition was afforded in the case of Colonel Stacia, whose destruction had, for some reason or other, been determined upon by Molly Brant, the Indian wife of Sir William Johnson; who, in her widowhood, had been taken from Johnstown to Niagara. [FN] [FN] "Molly Brant had, for some cause, a deadly hostility to Colonel Stacia. Resorting to the Indian method of dreaming, she informed Colonel Butler that she had dreamed that she had the Yankee's head, and that she and the Indians were kicking it about the fort. Colonel Butler ordered a small keg of rum to be painted and given to her. This, for a short time, appeased her; but she dreamed a second time that she had the Yankee's head, with his hat on, and that she and the Indians were kicking it about the fort for a football. Colonel Butler ordered another keg of rum to be given to her, and then told her decidedly that Colonel Stacia should not be given up to the Indians. Apart from this circumstance, I know nothing disreputable to Molly Brant. On the contrary, she appears to have had just views of her duties. She was careful of the education of her children, some of whom were respectably married."—Campbells Annals.—It may be added, that her descendants from Sir William Johnson compose some of the most respectable and intelligent families of Upper Canada at this day. The traditions of the Mohawk Valley state, that the acquaintance of Sir William with Molly had a rather wild and romantic commencement. The story runs, that she was a very sprightly and very beautiful Indian girl of about sixteen when he first saw her. It was at a regimental militia muster, where Molly was one of a multitude of spectators. One of the field-officers coming near her upon a prancing steed, by way of banter she asked permission to mount behind him. Not supposing she could perform the exploit, he said she might. At the word she leaped upon the crupper with the agility of a gazelle. The horse sprang off at full speed, and, clinging to the officer, her blanket flying, and her dark tresses streaming in the wind, she flew about the parade-ground swift as an arrow, to the infinite merriment of the collected multitude. The Baronet, who was a witness of the spectacle, admiring the spirit of the young squaw, and becoming enamoured of her person, took her home as his wife. The few prisoners from Cherry Valley were marched, by the route already indicated, to the Seneca country, Mrs. Campbell was carried to the Seneca castle at Kanadaseago, where she was presented to a family to fill a place made vacant by the death of one of its members. Her children, the infant included, were separated from her, and distributed among different Indian families. Being skillful with her needle, and rendering herself useful to those with whom she lived, she was treated with indulgence. No restraints were imposed upon her, and she was even gratified in her desire to pay a due regard to the Sabbath, of which institution they were ignorant. Among other little civilities, perceiving that she wore caps, an Indian presented her one, which was cut and spotted with blood. On a closer scrutiny, her feelings were shocked by the discovery, from the mark, that it had belonged to the lovely companion of her youth, the hapless Jane Wells! After returning from a successful expedition, a dance of Thanksgiving is performed by the Iroquois, which partakes of the character of a religious ceremony; [FN-1] and Mrs. Campbell had the opportunity, soon after her arrival at Kanadaseago, of witnessing the festival in honor of their recent victory, of which she herself was one of the trophies. A grand council was convoked for this purpose, and preparations were made for the observance of the festival, upon a scale corresponding with the importance of the achievements they were to celebrate. The arrangements having been completed, the warriors came forth to the centre of the village, where the great fire had been kindled, horribly disfigured by black and red paint, and commenced their savage rites by singing of their own exploits, and those of their ancestors,—by degrees working themselves up into a tempest of passion; whooping, yelling, and uttering every hideous cry; brandishing their knives and war-clubs, and throwing themselves into the most menacing attitudes, in a manner terrific to the unpractised beholder. There was no prisoner put to the torture, or attired with the raven death-cap on this occasion; [FN-2] but the prisoners were paraded, and the scalps borne in procession, as would have been the standards taken in civilized warfare in the celebration of a triumph. For every scalp, and for every prisoner taken, the scalp-yell, or, as it is sometimes called, the death-halloo, was raised in all its mingled tones of triumph and terror. [FN-3] The scalp-yell is the most terrific note which an Indian can raise, and from the numbers that had fallen during this expedition, it was often repeated. The white dog for the sacrifice was then killed; the offerings collected were thrown into the fire; whereupon the dog was laid upon the pile and thoroughly roasted. The flesh was then eaten, and the wild festival closed. [FN-1] Heckewelder. [FN-2] The Indians do not often put their prisoners to the torture, or even to death—seldom, unless when they have sustained great losses, or when some of their warriors have been murdered. The torture is then resorted to, to glut their vengeance.—Heckewelder. [FN-3] Idem. From an account of the ceremonies at one of the festivals, of which Mrs. Campbell was a spectator during her captivity, she must have been present at the great annual feast of thanksgiving and remission of sin, which is held by the Senecas and other tribes of the confederacy. This is their greatest national and most solemn sacrifice. It is invariably held at the time of the old moon in January, and is celebrated with great parade; the ceremonies being conducted with the utmost order, harmony, and decorum, under the direction of a large committee appointed for that purpose. The festivities continued nine days, on the first of which two white dogs, without spot or blemish, if such could be found, were strangled and hung up before the door of the council-house, at the height of twenty feet. Not a drop of blood was allowed to be shed in compassing their death, as the victims would thereby be rendered unfit for the sacrifice. After the animals were killed, and before their suspension, their faces were painted red, as also the edges of their ears and other parts of their bodies. They were then fantastically decorated with ribbons and feathers, rendering them as beautiful, in the eye of an Indian, as possible. Their fancy dress being completed, the dogs were hung up, and the ceremonies of the frolic commenced. In the course of the first day every lodge in the town was visited by the committee, each member being provided with a shovel, with which he removed the ashes and coals from every hearth, and scattered them to the winds. In this manner the fire of every lodge was extinguished, to be re-kindled only by striking virgin sparks from the flint. The discharge of a gun at every lodge announced that the work of purification, even of fire itself, had been performed; and with this ceremony ended the labors of the first day. The ceremonies of the second day were opened with a dance by the committee, after which, dressed in bear-skins, the members visited every lodge, with baskets to take up alms—receiving whatever was bestowed, but particularly tobacco, and other articles used for incense in the sacrifice. Two or three days were occupied in receiving these grateful donations, during which time the people at the council-house were engaged in dances and other recreations. On the fifth day masks were added to the bear-skin dresses of the masters of the festival, some ludicrous and others frightful, in which they ran about the village, smearing themselves with dirt, and bedaubing all such as refused to add to the contents of their baskets of incense. While thus engaged, the collectors were supposed to receive into their own bodies all the sins of their tribe, however numerous or heinous, committed within the preceding year. On the ninth day of the feast, by some magical process, the sins of the nation thus collected were transfused from the several members of the Committee into one of their number. The dogs were then taken down, and the whole weight of the nation's iniquity, by another magical process, was transfused into their lifeless carcasses. The bodies of the dogs were next laid upon an altar of wood, to which fire was applied, and the whole consumed—the masters of the sacrifice throwing the tobacco and other odoriferous articles into the flames, the incense ascending from which was supposed to be acceptable to the Great Spirit. The sacrifice ended, the people all partook of a bountiful feast, the chief article of which was succotash. Then followed the war and peace dances, and the smoking of the calumet. Thus refreshed, and relieved from the burden of sin—at peace with the Great Spirit, and with each other—the warriors with their families returned, each to his own house, prepared to enter upon the business and the duties of another year; the chiefs, during the festival, having carefully reviewed the past, and adjusted their policy for the future. [FN] [FN] The reminiscences of Mrs. Campbell scarcely allowed her to give the particulars of this great festival in extenso, although she seems, from the Annals of her grandson, to have retained a remembrance of the leading points of the ceremonies. The author has supplied the deficiencies of her account from the life of Mrs. Jemison. The sacrifice of dogs is, we believe, universal among the North American Indians. How long the practice has prevailed cannot well be known. Cotton Mather affirms, "that the Indians, in their wars with us, finding a sore inconvenience by our dogs, sacrificed a dog to the devil; after which no English dog would bark at an Indian for divers months ensuing." Magnalia, iii. 192. What interpreter the devil had on these occasions, does not appear. That he did not understand the Indian tongue, is manifest from the same writer:—"Once finding that the Daemons, in a possessed young woman, understood the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew tongues, my curiosity induced me to make trial of this Indian language, and the Daemons did seem as if they did not understand it."—Sands. Captain Butler having returned from his visit to General Haldimand, with permission for the proposed exchange of prisoners, the Colonel, his father, proceeded to the Seneca castle to negotiate for the release of Mrs. Campbell. The family by whom she had been adopted were very reluctant to part with her; but, after the holding of a council, the strong appeals of Colonel Butler, who was anxious for the release of his own wife and family, prevailed. Mrs. Campbell, however, had been pledged to a Genesee family, whither she was shortly to be removed; and as her liberation could not be completed without the consent of that family, Guyanguahta, the aged king of the Senecas, who had become her zealous friend, made the journey to the Genesee on her behalf. He was successful, and Mrs. Campbell was removed to Niagara. The aged king, being too old to go out upon the war-path, had borne no part in the pending hostilities. He seemed little disposed to evil, and on parting with the fair captive bade her an affectionate farewell in the words following:—"You are about to return to your home and friends," said the venerable sachem. "I rejoice. You live a great way off, and many journeys from here. I am an old man, and do not know that I shall live to the end of the war. If I do, I will come and see you." [FN] Mrs. Campbell reached Niagara in June, 1779. While residing there, among others she had an opportunity of seeing the celebrated Catharine Montour, whose name occurs in the preceding pages in connexion with the battle of Wyoming. One of her two sons, who had signalized themselves at Wyoming, was also in the affair at Cherry Valley; and it was he who made prisoner of Mr. Cannon, the father of Mrs. Campbell, after he had been wounded by a musket ball. Being a Whig of consideration, and also a member of the Committee of Safety, it was determined to retain Mr. Cannon in captivity, for the purpose of exchanging him for some one of their own men of like consequence. But his age and his wound rendered him an inconvenient prisoner, and Kate Montour was in a rage with her son for not having killed him outright. Yet, notwithstanding this exhibition of a savage temper, she was treated with marked consideration by the British officers. [FN] Campbell's Annals. It was not until June of the following year that Mrs. Campbell was sent from Niagara to Montreal, on her way home. While residing at the former post, the Indians having been driven into the fort, she was enabled to recover three of her children. On her arrival at Montreal, she met with Mrs. Butler and her family, who had been previously released. Here, also, and in charge of that lady, Mrs. Campbell found her fourth child, a little son who had been torn from her in the Cherry Valley massacre. He was dressed in the green uniform of Butler's rangers; but had forgotten the English language—speaking nothing but Indian. From Montreal Mrs. Campbell was sent to Albany by the way of Lake Champlain, [FN] where she was shortly afterward joined by her husband, who had been stationed at Fort Schuyler most of the time during her captivity. [FN] On her way from Montreal, a variety of circumstances and incidents intervened to harass Mrs. Campbell and the prisoners returning in her company, and to retard their progress. She had been detained four months at Montreal, and these additional delays were exceedingly vexatious. Before their departure from Crown Point, a rumor had reached the American shores of the lake, from Ticonderoga to Skenesborough, that another expedition was about to be undertaken from Canada against New-York, and the inhabitants had become not a little alarmed at the prospect. It happened that the men in the batteaux containing the prisoners, were clad in blanket coats, and some of the women wore red cloaks. A scout had discovered them on the lake, and taking them for a party of Indians and Tories, gave the alarm, and before their arrival, more than a thousand men had collected, under Col. Ethan Allen. While stopping at a small fortress, eight miles from Castleton, it was announced that a flag was approaching. It was supposed to be sent to demand the surrender of the fortress. Col. Herrick, of the militia, struck his sword upon the ground with such force that he broke it in pieces, saying it should not be surrendered. Col. Allen told the prisoners that they should not again fall into the hands of the enemy, and immediately mounting them upon horseback, sent them off toward Albany, with an escort of a hundred men. This flag was sent for the following reason:—It had been rumored that the inhabitants in that section had said that if they were not protected from the incursions of the Indians and Tories, they would seek protection elsewhere. It is perhaps needless to add that this flag was sent to offer them the protection of Great Britain—a proposition which was of course refused.—Campbell's Annals. The destruction of Cherry Valley closed the warlike operations of both nations, in the North, for that year. A formidable campaign had indeed been projected early in the season, as has been already stated, not only against the hostiles of the Six Nations, but likewise against the nations more remote, for whom Detroit was the common centre. But the larger half of this enterprise had been abandoned after the irruption into Wyoming, and the next project contemplated the invasion of the Seneca country by way of the Tioga and Chemung rivers. In October this branch of the project was likewise deferred, at the suggestion of Generals Gates and Schuyler. Meantime, notwithstanding that these enterprises had successively fallen to the ground for want of "the sinews of war," Congress had been projecting another stupendous campaign, comprehending a simultaneous attack upon the whole northern range of British possessions, from Cape Breton and Newfoundland to Detroit. The French fleet was to co-operate by attacking the islands and territories at the estuary of the St. Lawrence; while the Americans were to send an army to Detroit, another to Niagara, a third to Oswego, and a fourth against Montreal by the way of St. Francis. It is needless to add, that although Congress had arranged all the details, the moment the plan was laid before the Commander-in-chief, who had not previously been consulted in the premises, it was necessarily laid aside. In the first place, the nation had not the means; and in the second, Congress, in arranging matters for this splendid undertaking, had forgotten that they were to leave Sir Henry Clinton, and all the British forces in New-York, and at the South, computed at the least at seventeen thousand men, behind! Thus closed the Northern campaigns of 1778. The British, Tories and Indians went into winter-quarters, and the frontier inhabitants disposed of themselves as best they could. Much has been said in the traditions of Tryon County, and somewhat, also, in the courts of law, in cases involving titles to real estate formerly in the family of Sir William Johnson, respecting the burial of an iron chest, by his son Sir John, previous to his flight to Canada, containing the most valuable of his own and his father's papers. Late in the Autumn of the present year, General Haldimand, at the request of Sir John, sent a party of between forty and fifty men privately to Johnstown, to dig up and carry the chest away. The expedition was successful; but the chest not being sufficiently tight to prevent the influence of dampness from the earth, the papers had become mouldy, rotten, and illegible, when taken up. The information respecting this expedition was derived, in the Spring following, from a man named Helmer, who composed one of the party, and assisted in disinterring the chest. Helmer had fled to Canada with Sir John. While retiring from Johnstown with the chest, he injured his ankle; and by reason of his lameness, went back to his father's house, where he remained concealed until Spring, when he was arrested. He was tried as a spy by a court-martial, at Johnstown, April 15,1779, and sentenced to death—chiefly on his own admissions to the court. A considerable number of rather summary executions, by the Whigs of Tryon County, took place in the course of the contest. [FN] [FN] This information, in regard to the recovery of the iron chest, is derived from the minutes of the court-martial, among the papers of Gen. Clinton. The MS. narrative of Jacob Sammons, in the author's possession, states that the chest was dug up during a night in May, 1778, by Lieut. Crawford, at the head of forty men sent from Canada for that purpose. Sammons then held a lease of the Johnson farm from the committee of sequestrations. The chest had been buried beneath one of the garden walks. Sammons discovered it in the morning, with the fragments of papers scattered around it. But as he wrote his narrative long afterward, the probability is that the date given on the trial of Helmer is the true one. The leading military events occurring in other parts of the country, during the year 1778, have already been incidentally adverted to, with the exception of those that transpired at the South. In the month of June, the Earl of Carlisle, Governor Johnstone, and William Eden, Esq. who, in conjunction with General and Lord Howe, had been appointed Commissioners to make another attempt to treat with the Colonies, arrived, and sent their instructions to Congress. A letter from the President was despatched in reply, rebuking the Commissioners for the language indulged by them in regard to the King of France, our ally, and again peremptorily refusing to entertain a negotiation, except upon the basis of independent States. On the 6th of August, M. Gerard was publicly received as Minister Plenipotentiary of the King of France—to the great joy of the American people; and on the 14th of September, Dr. Benjamin Franklin was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of Versailles. In the course of the Summer, two incursions of British regulars and American refugees had been made from Florida into Georgia. Both expeditions met with such disheartening obstacles, as to induce their retreat without accomplishing more than the destruction of the church, dwelling-houses, and rice-fields of Midway. In return for these visitations. General Robert Howe led an expedition of about two thousand men, mostly militia, into Florida. He captured the British posts on the St. Mary's river, and was proceeding successfully, when his march was arrested by sickness, so fatal to his army as to compel a relinquishment of the enterprise. Toward the close of the year, the British Commander-in-chief determined to strike a signal blow against the South. For this purpose an expedition of two thousand men, under the command of Colonel Campbell, an officer of courage and ability, embarked at New-York on the 27th of November, destined against Savannah. After a passage of three weeks, Colonel Campbell landed near the mouth of Savannah river. General Howe, to whom the defence of Georgia had been confided, had but six hundred regular troops and a few hundred militia to oppose the invaders. This officer had taken a position between the landing and the town, where a battle was fought on the 29th of December. He was out-numbered, out-generaled, and beaten, with a loss of one hundred killed. The town and fort of Savannah, thirty-eight officers, four hundred and fifteen privates, twenty-three mortars, together with the shipping in the river, and a large quantity of ammunition and provisions, fell into the hands of the conquerors. It was an easy victory to the enemy, whose loss was but seven killed and nineteen wounded. From these glimpses of the events of the year 1778, occurring elsewhere than in the Indian country, it seems, after the battle of Monmouth, to have been a season of comparative inactivity on both sides. Still, having repossessed themselves of the strong pass of the Highlands immediately after the return of Sir Henry Clinton and Commodore Hotham to New-York, toward the close of the preceding year, no lack of industry was exhibited on the part of the Americans in strengthening and multiplying its defences, from which neither force nor treachery ever again dislodged them. The prosecution of those works had been originally entrusted to General Putnam; but the advanced age of that patriotic officer had rendered him less active than formerly, and he had become unpopular in New-York—mainly from an impression that a more energetic commander, stationed, as he was, with an army at Fishkill, and apprised of the approach of Sir Henry Clinton, would have saved Forts Clinton and Montgomery. By directions from the Commander-in-chief, therefore, the Connecticut veteran had been transferred back to his own State, upon a different service.
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