Tortured by the Apache Indians: A First-Hand Account

Tortured by the Apache Indians: A First-Hand Account

The Torture.

Upon the level plain facing the temple, and at a short distance from it, scores of brawny savages were busily engaged planting firmly in the ground a row of massive posts; they were arranged in a semi-circle, and were about twenty in number. We saw many of the Indians go to the woods, tomahawk in hand; we heard the sounds of chopping, and saw them return with bundlesof faggots we saw them fastening curiously fashioned chains of copper to the posts; we observed them painting their faces and bodies in hideous stripes of red and black. It was a scene of fearful import, for we knew but too well that it was the prelude to the torture. What were my companions' reflections I knew not, for they spoke but little. But the set and stern expression that showed itself on every face, told me plainly that they fully realized the terrible drama in which they were to be the principal actors. The appearance of all was ghastly in the extreme. Travel-stained, covered with dust, and with spots of dried blood, some showing fresh and bleeding wounds—souvenirs of yesterday's rough sport—our clothing torn and disarranged, we were indeed objects of pity, calculated to excite commiseration in the breasts of any others than the brutal and sanguinary wretches who were about to put us to a terrible death. As for me, my brain was on fire; and could I but have freed myself from my bonds I would gladly have sought instant death at the hands of the nearest savage, rather than to longer endure the ever present torture of mind, and the not more acute physical suffering which I was soon to undergo.

At last their preparations seemed completed, and the audience assembled. Camanches and Apaches alike gathered before the temple, forming a vast semi-circle. The terraces of the temple were occupied by the older men, and upon its summit were seated a 

group of men in strange costumes, the priests of Quetzalcoatl. Directly in front of the temple a sort of throne had been erected, and upon it sat the aged chief, with his subordinates grouped around him. An old Indian of most repulsive aspect, seemed to direct the proceedings, assisted by about a hundred of the younger warriors. A number approached us, we were released from our fastenings and led forward; our ragged garments were soon stripped from our bodies, and with dextrous rapidity we were bound singly to the stakes already prepared for us.

To the hour of my death I can never forget that scene. For years it haunted me, and even now, at times I start from my sleep with a cry of terror as I fancy I see again that mob of yelling, painted demons, the crowded terraces of the temple gay with the bright colors of barbaric costumes, the little band of doomed captives, the fagots, stakes, and all the terrible instruments of death. Back of all, the snow white cliffs, fringed with the dark green foliage of the pines, and Heaven's sunshine falling over all, as if in mockery of the awful tragedy about to be enacted. I wake—and shuddering, thank God that it is only a dream.

But it was all too real then. At a signal from their leader the savage executioners heaped the fagots around us, placing them at a sufficient distance to insure the prolongation of our sufferings, so that we might die]

slowly, and afford them ample time to fully enjoy our agonies. The fires were lighted, and the smoke rolled up in volumes, and threatened to suffocate us and put a speedy end to our torments. In a few seconds however, as the wood got fairly blazing, the smoke lifted, and as we began to writhe in agony, a yell of delight went up from more than three thousand savage throats. The heat grew more intense; my skin was scorched and blistered; dizzy and faint, I felt that the end was near, and longed for death as a speedy escape from such terrible pain. Some of my companions, rendered frantic by their sufferings, gave vent to screams of anguish; others endured in silence.

Mustering all my fortitude, as yet not a sound had escaped me; I had closed my eyes, and was fervently praying for the relief which I knew death must soon give me, when I was startled by a wild cry, followed by a yell of astonishment from the savage spectators. Opening my eyes I saw the same gigantic Indian who had recaptured me on the day previous, making his way rapidly through the crowd, who fell back to right and left with precipitate haste. Rushing directly towards me he scattered the blazing brands, released me as quick as thought, and dragged me to the front of the temple, while the air resounded with the yells and exclamations of the Indians. Raising his hand he hushed them into silence, and uttered a few words in the Camanche tongue; their meaning was lost upon me; I could only distinguish the word "Quetzalcoatl," 

which I knew to be the name of their God. But the revulsion of feeling, and the terrible ordeal through which I had passed, proved too much for my exhausted frame; I swooned and sank insensible to the earth.

Over 100 First Hand Accounts of Torture and Terror on the Ohio

                                     57 gruesome stories if Indian capture and torture and torture

Tortured by the Apaches: Running the Gauntlet

Tortured by the Apaches: Running the Gauntlet

THE TORTURE.

Another morning dawned; again we were brought forth, and from the information gained from the old trapper, I knew that our time for action had come. Lying in a group on the green sward, we watched the movements of our enemies with painful interest. Our hands and feet were bound, but we were not otherwise secured, and were therefore enabled to sit up and look around us; we saw that the Indians were divested of every superfluous article of dress or ornament, that their movements might be light and unimpeded. We saw them enter the woods and return with clubs freshly cut from the trees, an ominous indication of the fate in store for us. To the number of several hundred the savages had gathered upon the plain and were arranging the preliminaries for their fiendish sport. We watched their preparations with a peculiar interest; at length, all seemed in readiness—two rows of Indians stretched along the plain for a distance of about three hundred yards—all were armed with clubs, and stood to face each other; an interval of three or four paces 

separating the ranks. Between these lines, we had to run and receive blows in passing, from all who were quick enough to hit us. We were told that if any of our numbers achieved the apparently impossible feat of passing the entire line, and could reach the foot of the cliff without being overtaken that our lives would be spared. I asked the old trapper if he believed this. "Not by a durn sight," was his reply; "its all a cussed injun lie, just to make us do our puttiest; they'll roast us all the same, blast 'em." I was satisfied that the promise was of no value, even if they should adhere to it; for the fleetest runner could never pass the lines.

    Several of the warriors now approached us, and untied one of the Mexicans; he was to run first. Although an athletic and active specimen of his race, he was quickly disposed of; running barely ten paces before he was stretched senseless, and brought back helpless and bleeding, while the air resounded with the wild yells of the savage bystanders. Three of the other captives soon met the same fate, and then it came to my turn; I was unbound and led forward and stood awaiting the signal to begin the terrible race. Within a few moments a wild scheme had formed itself in my mind, and although fully realizing its desperate nature, I had determined to make the effort, even if I perished in the attempt. I had noticed that, with the exception of those forming the lines between which I was to run, the Indians all stood behind me;] and for a considerable space around me the ground was entirely clear. My plan was to start as if with the intention of entering the lane of savages, but to suddenly diverge to the right or left, as might seem most expedient, and run directly down the valley, with the hope that I might be able to reach the dense and tangled forest which fringed it, and conceal myself in its recesses until I could find some way out of my rock-environed prison. As I look back at it now, I can only wonder that I should have had the hardihood to attempt it. Not an Indian among the hundreds around but knew well all the paths and windings of the wooded borders of the valley, even supposing that I was fortunate enough to reach it, but that was improbable. Among so many it was likely there would be several able to outstrip me in speed, a fast runner as I deemed myself; and if overtaken, I could expect nothing but more cruel treatment than I had yet experienced. Besides, although I did not know it at the time, the valley had but two entrances and these were constantly guarded by a watchful picket. But at the time I thought of none of these things—"drowning men will catch at straws," says the old adage—and my hastily formed plan seemed to me to promise success. Having formed my resolution I was necessitated to put it in practice at once. The Indians were already impatient for another victim, and the signal being given I started on my race for life at the top of my speed. At first I 
ran directly for the living lane, where my enemies waited with poised clubs each eager to strike the first blow, but as I neared it I made a sudden break to the right, and gathering all my energies for one mighty effort, I broke through a group of old men and idlers who were watching the sport. Despite their efforts to intercept me I cleared them in an instant, and ran down the valley with the whole yelling mob at my heels. Some half dozen of my pursuers being swifter of foot forged ahead of their comrades, but they did not seem to gain upon me, and for a time it seemed that I would distance them entirely; but I had overestimated my strength, and to my alarm found myself growing weak, and running heavily and with painful effort.

I had now, however, nearly reached the timber, and strained every nerve to gain its welcome shadow; looking back, I saw that one of my pursuers was within two hundred yards of me, and gaining rapidly; straining every nerve, I kept up my headlong pace, but when within fifty paces of the woods and with my enemy but little further behind me, I tripped and fell, and had barely time to spring to my feet before he was upon me; he was entirely unarmed, having thrown away his club during the chase. As he rushed upon me, I met him with a blow from my fist, delivered with all the force of which I was capable. Striking him directly under the chin, it knocked him completely off his feet, and he measured his length 
upon the grass. I turned with a spring, and was about to plunge into the thicket, when the dense undergrowth parted directly before me, and I stood face to face with an Indian of gigantic size and most singular appearance. For a moment I was completely paralyzed; not so my new opponent. Realizing the situation at a glance, he sprang upon me, and bore me to the ground with scarcely an effort. Emerging from the lethargy which had enthralled me for a moment, I struggled frantically to free myself, but in vain. Several others had now come up, and my fallen antagonist, who had been stunned for a moment, recovered himself, with his temper not at all improved by the rough handling he had received, and snatching a knife from the belt of one of the new comers, aimed a blow at me which would have ended my life on the instant, and prevented this narrative from being written. My captor seized his arm, and rebuked him so sternly, that he slunk away abashed. I was then allowed to rise to my feet, and my hands being bound, the huge Indian, who seemed to be in authority, and of whom the others evidently stood in awe consigned me to the custody of two warriors, and dismissing the rest with a wave of his hand, again disappeared in the thicket.

Led between my two guards, I was soon taken back to the village, followed by an excited crowd of Indians, who showed a disposition to handle me pretty roughly, but their unwelcome attentions were 
prevented by my conductors who pushed rapidly through the crowd, and soon reached the lodge in which I had previously been confined. I was soon reinstalled in my gloomy prison, and after tying me in the usual manner, my attendants left me to solitude and misery.

Bitterly disappointed by the failure of my daring scheme at the very moment when it seemed to promise success, my thoughts were the reverse of pleasant; and when my mind reverted to the fate of my wife, I suffered such mental agony, as I pray that you, kind reader, may never know.

Another night passed, and remembering the words of the old trapper, I awoke filled with the conviction that it was to be my last day on earth. The usual scanty meal was supplied to me, and about an hour later I was again brought forth upon the plain. I was soon among my companions in misfortune, and like them securely tied to stakes; but allowed to sit upright, as if the red demons wished us to fully observe the preparations now going forward.

Over 100 First-Hand Accounts of Torture and Terror on the Ohio

57 gruesome stories of Indian capture and torture

Torture and Cannibalism Amongst the Algonquins and Miami Indians

Cannibalism existed amongst the Algonquins and the Miami, and many other tribes, and the Jesuits, who were often witnesses of the feasts in which human flesh was the only food supplied, have handed down to us an account of them.' One shudders with horror at the tortures invented by the ingenuity of man. Among some Indian tribes these tortures began several days before the final sacrifice. Lighted firebrands were applied to every part of the body the nails of the fingers and toes were wrenched off ; the flesh was torn, and burning splinters plunged into the gaping wounds ; the victim was scalped and burning coals applied to the spot. Women' and children were not the least eager amongst the torturers, and when the sufferer at last expired, his' breast was opened, and if he had died bravely the heart was taken out, cut in pieces, and distributed to the young warriors of the tribe. They also drank the still smoking blood, hoping to inoculate themselves with the courage of which they had just had proof. The trunk, limbs, and head were roasted or boiled ; all gorged themselves with the horrible food, and the day ended with dances and song which gayly finished off the feast.

57 gruesome stories of Indian capture and torture

1642 Mohawk Indians Torture a French Jesuit Catholic Priest

1642 Mohawk Indians Torture a French Jesuit Catholic Priest

   A party of about 70 Mohawks set out in July on a foray, and from both sides of the St. Lawrence attack a party of Huron Indians accompanied by French priests from Canada, among them Father Isaac Jogues, who were going in twelve canoes to their country near the big lake (Huron) and the Mohawks take 22 of them prisoners. The occurrences, of a most horrible nature, transpiring then, and the tortures to which they were subjected on their travel to the Mohawk river, when Father Jogues was beaten senseless for displaying sympathy for a prisoner being tortured, (as described in a letter written at Rensselaerswyck, on Aug. 5, 1643, by Father Jogues himself) being as follows: "Scarcely had I begun to breathe, when some others, attacking me, tore out, by biting, almost all my fingernails, and crunched my two forefingers with their teeth, giving me intense pain.  No trial, however, came harder upon me than to see them, five or six days afterward, approach us jaded with the march, and in cold blood, with minds nowise excited by passion, pluck out our hair and beard, and drive their nails, which are always very sharp, deep into parts most tender and sensitive to the slightest impression." The day of the ambushed attack, Aug. 4. Father Jogues, describes in his letter the cruelties perpetrated by the victorious Mohawks, states: "On the eighth day we fell in with a band of two hundred Indians going out to fight (on an island in Lake Champlain); and as it is the custom for savages, when out on war-parties, to initiate themselves, as it were, by cruelty, under the belief that their success will be the greater as they shall have been the more cruel, they thus received us: First rendering thanks to the sun, which they imagine presides over war, they congratulated their countrymen by a joyful volley of musketry. Each then cut some stout clubs in the neighboring wood in order to receive us. After we had landed from the canoes, they fell upon us from both sides with their clubs in such fury, that I, who was the last and therefore the most exposed to their blows, sank overcome by their numbers and severity before I had accomplished half the rocky way that led to the hill on which a stage had been erected for us. I thought I should quickly die there; and therefore, partly because I could not, partly because I cared not, I did not rise. How long they spent their fury upon me He knows for whose love and sake it is delightful and glorious thus to suffer. Moved at last by a cruel mercy, and wishing to carry me to their country alive, they ceased to strike. And thus half dead and covered with blood, they bore me to the scaffold. Here I had scarce begun to breathe, when they ordered me to come down to load me with scoffs and insults, and countless blows upon my head and shoulders, and indeed my whole body. I should be tedious were I to attempt to tell all that the French prisoners suffered. They burnt one of my fingers, and crushed another with their teeth; the others already thus mangled they so wrenched by the tattered nerves that even now, though healed, they are frightfully deformed."

Paranormal Activity Near the Site of a Man Burned by Muncie Indians in Indiana

It was common for the Algonquin Indians to burn captives at the stake in Northen Indiana

Indianapolis News, June 15, 1907
  "There is no doubt in my mind that a man was burned to death," he continued, "for I remember well the spot on which it said the Indians burned him.  It was on the Cissel farm about two miles below here. (Windsor, Indian)"
Even the Ground Was Haunted
   "The thing that was most convincing to me was that for years and years nothing would grow on this particular spot.  The ground positively refused to respond to cultivation, although efforts were made repeatedly to get things to grow on it. Funny, isn't it."

                                            57 stories of Indian capture and torture and torture

Over 100 tales of frontier terror

Iroquois Torture and Decapitation of White Captives Described

History of Orange County, New York 1888     

     There has been no more intellectual nation among the aborigines of 
America than the Senecas of Western New York — the most original 
and determined of the confederated Iroquois — but its warriors were 
cruel like the others, and their squaws often assisted the men in torturing 
their captives. When Boyd and Parker were captured in the Genesee 
Valley in the Sullivan campaign of 1779, Brant, the famous half-breed 
chief, assured them that they would not be injured, yet left them in the 
hands of Little Beard, another chief, to do with as he would, and the 
prolonged tortures to which he and his savage companions subjected 
them were horrible. After they had been stripped and tied to trees, and 
tomahawks were thrown so as to just graze their heads, Parker was un- 
intenlionally hit so that his head was severed from his body, but Boyd was 
made to suffer lingering miseries. His ears were cut off, his mouth 
enlarged with knives and his severed nose thrust into it, pieces of flesh 
were cut from his shoulders and other parts of his body, an incision was 
made in his abdomen and an intestine fastened to the tree, when he was 
scourged to make him move around it, and finally as he neared death, was 
decapitated, and his head raised on a pole. 

100 Real Historical Accounts 

The Ohio Indians Torture and Burning at the Stake of Colonel Crawford

THE OHIO INDIANS TORTURE OF COLONEL CRAWFORD

Colonel Crawford being slowly burned at the stake

The slaughter of the Christian Indians at Gnadenhutten took place in March, 1782, and in May ol the same year, four hundred and fifty horsemen from the American border met at Mingo Bottom, where the murderers had rendezvoused, and set out from that point to massacre the Moravian converts who had taken refuge among the Wyandots on the Sandusky. They expected, of course, to fight the warlike Indians, but they openly avowed their purpose of killing all Indians, Christian or heathen, and women and children, as well as warriors. We must therefore call them murderers, but we must remember that they had been hardened against mercy by the atrocities of the savages, and we must make allowance for men who had seen their wives and little ones tomahawked and scalped or carried off into captivity, their homes burnt, and their fields wasted. The life of the frontier at a time when all life was so much ruder than now was as fierce, if not as cruel, among the white men as among the red men.

The murderers at Mingo Bottom voted whether Colonel David Williamson or Colonel William Crawford should lead them, and their choice fell upon Crawford. He seems to have been a man of kinder heart than his fellows, and he unwillingly took command of the turbulent and disorderly band, which promptly set out on its march through the wilderness towards the Sandusky country. They had hoped to surprise the Indians, but spies had watched their movements from the first, and when they reached the Moravian villages on the Sandusky River, they found them deserted. They decided then to go on toward Upper Sandusky, and if they could not reach that town in a day's march, to beat a quick retreat. The next day they started, but at two o'clock in the afternoon they were attacked by large numbers of Indians hidden in the tall grass of the prairies, and they fought a running battle till nightfall. Then both sides kindled large fires along their lines, and fell back from them to prevent a surprise.

In the morning the Americans began their retreat, and the Indians renewed their attack with great fury in the afternoon, on all sides except the northeast, where the invaders were hemmed in by swamps. There seems to have been no cause for their retreat, except the danger of an overwhelming onset by the savages, which must have been foreseen from the start. But the army, as it was called, was wholly without discipline; during the night not even a sentry had been posted; and now their fear became a panic, their retreat became a rout. They made their way as best they could through the marshes, where the horses stuck fast, and had to be abandoned, and the men themselves sometimes sank to their necks in the soft ooze. Instead of keeping together, as Crawford advised but had no power to compel, the force broke up into small parties, which the Indians destroyed or captured. Many perished in the swamps; some were followed as far as the Ohio River. The only one of the small parties which escaped was that of forty men under Colonel Williamson, the leader of the Gnadenhiitten massacre, who enjoyed the happier fortune denied to Colonel Crawford.

This ill-fated officer was tormented after the retreat began by his fear for the safety of his son, his son-in-law, and his nephews, and he left his place at the head of the main body and let the army file past him while he called and searched for the missing men. He did not try to overtake it till it was too late to spur his wearied horse forward. He fell in with Dr. John Knight, who accompanied the expedition as surgeon, and who now generously remained with Crawford. They pushed on together with two others through the woods, guided by the north star, but on the second day after the army had left them behind, a party of Indians fell upon them and made them prisoners.

Their captors killed their two companions, Captain Biggs and Lieutenant Ashley, the following day, but Crawford and Knight were taken to an Indian camp at a little distance, and then to the old Wyandot town of Sandusky, where preparations were made for burning Crawford. He seems to have had great hopes that Simon Girty, who was then at Sandusky, would somehow manage to save him, and it is said that the renegade really offered three hundred dollars for Crawford's life, knowing that he would be many times repaid by Crawford's friends. But the chief whom Girty tried to bribe answered, "Do you take me for a squaw?" and threatened, if Girty said more, to burn him along with Crawford. This is the story told in Girty's favor; other stories represent him as indifferent if not cruel to Crawford throughout. In any case, it ended in Crawford's return to the Indian camp, eight miles from the Indian town, where he suffered death.

The chiefs who had been put in charge of him were two Delawares of great note, Captain Pipe and Captain Wingenund. They were chosen his guards because the Christian Indians were of their nation, and the Delawares, more than any other nation, were held to have been injured and insulted by their massacre. It was Captain Pipe who refused Girty's offer, if Girty ever made it, and it was Captain Pipe who urged the death of the prisoners, while treating them with mock politeness. Nine others were brought back from the town with Knight and Crawford, and Captain Pipe now painted all their faces black, the sign of doom. While he was painting Knight's face, he told him that he should be taken to see his friends at the Shawnee village, and he told Crawford that his head should be shaved, meaning that he should be made an Indian and adopted into the tribe. But when they came to the place where Crawford was to suffer, Captain Pipe threw off the mask of kindness; he made a speech to the forty warriors and seventy squaws and papooses met to torture him, and used all his eloquence to inflame their hate.

The other Delaware chief, Captain Wingenund, had gone into his cabin, that he might not see Crawford's death. They knew each other, and more than once Crawford had been good to Wingenund. The captive now sent for the chief, and Wingenund came unwillingly to speak with him, for he was already tied to the stake, and his friend knew that he could not save him. The chief acknowledged the kindness that they had once felt for each other, but he said that Crawford had put it out of his power to give him help.

"How so, Captain Wingenund?" asked Crawford.

"By joining yourself to that execrable man, Williamson; the man who but the other day murdered such a number of Moravian Indians, knowing them to be friends; knowing that he ran no risk in murdering a people who would not fight, and whose only business was praying."

In vain, Crawford declared that he would never have suffered the massacre if he had been present. Wingenund was willing to believe this, but he reminded him that the men whom he had led to Sandusky had declared that they came to murder the remaining Moravians. No one, he said, would now dare to speak a word for him; the king of England, if he came with all his treasure, could not save him from the vengeance which the Indians were going to take upon him for the slaughter of their innocent brethren.

"Then my fate is fixed," said Crawford.

Wingenund turned away weeping, and could never afterwards speak of the scene without deep feeling.

Crawford had already undergone the first of his punishment. The savages stripped him naked and made him sit down on the ground before the fire kindled to burn him, and beat him with their fists and with sticks till they had heated their rage. Then they tied his wrists together and fastened the rope that bound them to a post strongly planted in the ground with leash enough to let him walk round it once or twice, five or six yards away from the fire. Girty was present, and Crawford asked if the Indians meant to burn him; the renegade briefly answered, "Yes." Then Captain Pipe spoke, and Wingenund saw his friend for the last time. After this chief left Crawford, the Indians broke into a loud yell and began the work of torture which ended only with his death.

At one point he besought Simon Girty to put an end to his sufferings; but Girty would not, or dared not.

Then Crawford began to pray, imploring God to have mercy upon him, and bore his torment for an hour and a half longer with manly courage. It is not known how long his torture lasted; Knight was now taken away, and no friend remained to witness Crawford's agony to the end.

I have thought it well to recount his story, for without it we could not fully realize what the white people of that day underwent in their long struggle with the Ohio Indians. Cruelty so fiendish could never have a cause, but it cannot be denied that the torture of Crawford was the effect of the butchery of the Christian Indians. That awful deed was an act of even greater wickedness, for it was the act of men who were not savage by birth or race or creed. It was against the white man's law, while the torture of Crawford was by the red man's law. It is because of their laws that the white men have overcome and the red men have gone under in the order of mercy, for whenever we sin against that order, contrary to our law, or according to our law, we weaken ourselves, and if we continue in our sin, we doom ourselves in the end to perish.

                 57 gruesome tales of capture and torture

Over 100 Real Stories of Pioneer Terror

Saved From Burning at the Stake at the Hands of the Miami Indians

Saved From Burning at the Stake at the Hands of the Miami Indians

     It was less than a hundred years ago when the prevailing customs of the 
Indians were generally observed by the Miamis. A white captive had just been 
brought in, and the question was about to be submitted to the council whether 
the young man should die. The council was held, and its mandate had gone 
forth that he must burn at the stake. All is confusion and bustle in the village, and the features of all save the hapless victim bespeak the anxiety with which 
they look forward to the coming sacrifice. Already the prisoner is bound to the 
stake, and the fagots are being placed in position, while the torch which is to 
ignite the inflammable mass was in the hands of the brave selected to apply it. 
But hold ! the time has not yet come when the fates have decreed that the man- 
date of the council is to be executed. A chief is to be chosen to rule over the 
tribe. There are many candidates apparently alike entitled to recognition. Again 
the question of eligibility is mooted, and the usages of the ages must be 

observed. 
   

    He would save the young man. The torch is being extended to fire the combus- 
tible material, and all attention is directed toward the spot. At a signal from 

his mother, young Pe-che-wah sprang from her side and bounded forward, knife in 
Hand, to assert his chieftaincy by the captive's rescue. Electrified by the mag- 
netic force of his mother's desire, he dashed through the wild crowd, cut the 
cords that bound him, and bid the captive go free. Surprise and astonishment, 
not unmingled with displeasure, was visible in every countenance at the unex- 
pected denouement. Yet this daring feat of voluntary heroism was the universal 
theme of exultation. He was thereafter the recognized chief. In the mean 
time, the thoughtful mother, to make the rescue complete, placed the man in a 
canoe, covering him with furs and peltries, put him in charge of friendly hands, 
and sent him down the Mauuiee to a place of safety. 

1654 Erie and Iroquois Wars and Burning Captives at the Stake

1654 Erie and Iroquois Wars and Burning Captives at the Stake

In 1654, war broke out between the Eries and the Five Nations. "They [the Iroquois] tell us a new war has broken out, which fills them with fear, that the Eries have taken arms against them (we call the Eries the Cat Nation, because there is in their country a prodigious number of wildcats, two or three times as large as our tame cats, but having a beautiful and precious fur). They tell us that an Iroquois town has already been set on fire and destroyed at the first attack ; that this nation pursued one of their armies which was returning victorious from the shores of Lake Huron, fell upon the rear guard of eighty picked men and entirely cut it to pieces ; that one of their most distinguished chiefs, Annenraes, has been taken prisoner; in a word, that the Iroquois are inflamed, and are arming to repulse the enemy, and are, therefore, obliged to seek peace with us. " This Cat Nation is very populous. Some Hurons, who have scattered everywhere since the destruction of their country, have joined them, and excited this war, which alarms the Iroquois. It is said they have two thousand men, good warriors, though without fire-arms. But they fight like the French, enduring courageously the first discharge of the Iroquois, who have fire-arms, and then pouring upon them a hail of poisoned arrows, which they can shoot off six or eight times before the others can reload their muskets. " However this may be, we shall remain at peace, and Father Simon Le Moine, just returned from the Iroquois, assures us that they have sent out eighteen hundred armed men." (Relation, 1654, p. 10.) Father Simon Le Moine, before leaving the Iroquois, held counsel with them, and delivered a harangue after their manner, marking particular passages with gifts of wampum or hatchets, to preserve the memory of what was said. " The eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh presents for the four Iroquois nations, a hatchet for each, for the new war, in which they are engaged with the Cat Nation. " And, finally, by the nineteenth present, I dried the tears of the young warriors for the death of their great chief, Annencraos, lately taken prisoner by the Cat Nation." The orator of the Iroquois, in the course of his reply, sent thanks to the governor of Canada " for encouraging them to fight against their new enemies, the Cat Nation." (Relation, 1654, pp. 15 and 16.) An embassy of Iroquois went to Quebec, in 1655. The orator began with twenty-four belts of wampum. With the fifteenth " he asked for French soldiers to defend his towns against the invasion of the Cat Nation, with whom they are at war." And, at the close of his oration, he asked for arms to be used against the Cat Nation." (Relation, 1656, p. 6.) The Relation of 1656 is filled with accounts of the burning and torture by the Iroquois of prisoners taken in their war with the Eries, or Cat Nation, and contains an account of the war itself. Preparations were begun jn January, 1656 (p. 29). The narrative of the war is as follows : " The Cat Nation had sent thirty ambassadors to Sonntonan [a town of the Senecas], to confirm the peace then existing between them ; but it happened that a Sonnontonahronon [the French name for Seneca] was killed by one of the Cat Nation in a chance encounter. This murder so provoked the Sonnonton- ahronons, that they put to death all the embassadors but five, who escaped. War was now kindled between the two nations. It was a contest who should take the greatest number of prisoners to burn them. Among others, two Onnontagshronnons [the French name for Onondagas] were taken by the Cat Nation. One escaped; the other, a man of consideration, was preserved for burning, but he pleaded his cause so well, that he was given to the sister of one of the slain embassadors. She was absent from the town ; but the people gave the captive fine clothes, held feasts for him, and assured him he would be returned to his country. " When she, to whom he had been given, returned, she was told that her dead brother was restored, and that she should prepare a hospitable reception for him. She, on the contrary, began to weep, and protested that nothing could dry her tears till the death of her brother was avenged. The old men represented to her the importance of the matter, and told her this would bring on a new war; but she would not yield. At length they were constrained to surrender the unfortunate captive to her, to be treated according to her pleasure. He was in the midst of a feast while this was passing. He was called out and led to the cabin of the cruel woman in silence. Upon his entering, he was surprised to be stripped of his new clothes, and at once saw that he was doomed to death. Before dying, he cried out that they were burning in his person an entire people, who would cruelly avenge his death. This was true. For scarcely was the news brought to Onnontague, be fore twelve hundred resolute men were on the path to take satisfaction.