August, 1778 About a mile northwest of Fort Anne is the place where a severe battle was fought between a corps of five hundred Rangers, English and provincials, under Putnam and Rogers, and about the same number of French and Indians, under the famous partisan Molang. Putnam and Rogers were sent by Abercrombie to watch the enemy in the neighborhood of Ticonderoga. When they arrived at South Bay, an expansion of Lake Champlain near Whitehall, the two leaders separated, taking with them their respective divisions, but, being discovered by the watchful Molang, they deemed it expedient to reunite and return immediately to Fort Edward. Their troops were marched in three divisions, the right commanded by Rogers, the left by Putnam, and the center by Captain Dalyell (sometimes written D'Ell).
They halted at evening on the border of Clear River, a fork of Wood Creek before its junction with East Creek, and within a mile of Fort Anne. Early in the morning, while the lines were forming, Major Rogers, regardless of the teachings of the Ranger's great virtue, precaution, amused himself by firing at a target with a British officer. The sound reached the vigilant ears of Molang and his Indian allies, who, unknown to the Americans, were then encamped within a mile of them. He had been searching for the Rangers to intercept them, and the firing was a sure guide. His men were posted in ambush along the paths which he knew they must take, and as the Americans, just at sunrise, emerged from a dense thicket into the open woods, Molang and his followers fell upon them with great fury. Rogers seemed to be appalled by the fierce onslaught and fell back, but Putnam and Dalyell sustained their position and returned the fire. The conflict became desperate. At length Putnam's fusee missed fire when the muzzle was within a few inches of the breast of a giant savage, who thrust it aside and fell upon the major with the fierceness of a panther, made him prisoner, bound him firmly to a tree, and then returned to the battle. Captain Dalyell now assumed the command. The provincials fell back a little, but, rallying, the fight continued with great vigor. The tree to which Putnam was bound was about midway between the combatants, and he stood in the center of the hottest fire of both, utterly unable to move body or limb, so firmly had the savage secured him. His garments were riddled by bullets, but not one touched his person. For an hour he remained in this horrible position, until the enemy were obliged to retreat, when he was unbound and carried off by his savage captors. * Wounded, exhausted, and dispirited, Putnam was forced to make a weary march over a rough country, led on by
* At one time, when the provincials fell back, and the Indians were near him, a young warrior amused himself by trying his skill in throwing his tomahawk as near Putnam's head as possible without hitting him. When he was tired of his amusement, a French subaltern, more savage than the Indian, leveled his musket at Putnam's breast, but it missed fire. The major claimed the consideration due to a prisoner of war, but the barbarous Frenchman was unmoved, and, after striking him a violent blow upon his cheek with the butt end of his musket, left him to die, as he thought.
Humanity of Putnam's Captor.—Preparation for Torture.— Interposition of Moling.—Battle-ground near Fort Anne.
the savages, who had tied cords so tightly around his wrists that his hands were swollen and dreadfully tortured. He begged for release either from the pain or from life. A French officer interposed and unbound the cords; and just then his captor came up, and, with a sort of savage humanity, supplied him with moccasins, and expressed great indignation because of the harsh treatment his prisoner had endured. I say savage humanity, for it was present kindness, exercised while a dark and atrocious intention for the future made the Indian complaisant—the prisoner was reserved for the stake, and all those exquisite tortures with which savage cruelty imbitters the death of its victims. Deep in the forest he was stripped naked, and with green withes was bound fast to a sapling. The wood was piled high around him, and the wild death-songs of the savages, mingled with fierce yells, were chanted. The torch was applied, and the crackling flame began to curl around the fagots, when a black cloud, that for an hour had been rising in the west, poured down such a volume of water that the flames were nearly extinguished. But they burst forth again in fiercer intensity, and Putnam lost all hope of escape, when a French officer dashed through the crowd of savages, scattered the burning wood, and cut the cords of the victim. It was Molang himself. Some relenting savage had told him of the horrid orgies in the forest, and he flew to the rescue of Putnam, just in time to save him. After enduring much suffering, he was delivered to Montcalm at Ticonderoga, and by him sent to Montreal, where he experienced great kindness from Colonel Peter Schuyler, a fellow-prisoner, through whose influence he was exchanged for a prisoner taken by Colonel Bradstreet at Fort Frontenac. *
