But the invaders were not to have everything their own way, for soon the Americans, under Colonels Rowley and Willet, met them near Johnson Hall. The fighting was furious; so furious on the part of the patriots that the enemy retreated to West Canada Creek, where they encamped. It was the ground which old Hendrick had sold for an embroidered coat, but next day it ran red with the blood of the old chief's descendants. Butler was shot and fell mortally wounded by the bullet of an Oneida Indian, who bounded towards him with his tomahawk raised aloft. "Save me," cried the craven Butler, who, himself, had murdered hundreds of Americans. "Give me quarter."
"Hah!" cried the Oneida brave. "I will give you Cherry Valley quarter," and so saying he buried his hatchet in the brain of the enemy, leaving his body as a prey to the wild denizens of the forest, who soon consumed it.
The place of this fierce fighting is to this day called Butler's Ford, and here the Tories and Indians made their last stand against the Colonists. Soon a treaty of peace had been signed between America and England, and this fierce border warfare was to come to an end.
Brant was not forgotten by the English Monarch, and he was given a fine tract of land on the western side of Lake Ontario, where he made his home, had an excellent house, and lived in the manner of an Englishman. Invited again to London, he there was asked to a masquerade, and, as he needed no mask, went in his native costume, with his tomahawk in his belt and his face painted vermilion. There were some Turks present at the ball, and one seemed to be very much interested in Brant's face. He examined it very closely, and at last raised his hand and pulled the Chief's long Roman nose, supposing it to be a mask. Immediately Brant gave a loud, piercing warwhoop, swung his glistening tomahawk around the head of the startled Mohammedan, and almost brought it down upon his turbanned skull. Ladies shrieked and fainted. Waiters fell on each other in a wild endeavor to get away. Champagne glasses and fragile plates crashed upon the floor. All was confusion and uproar until, smiling broadly, the well-known Mohawk brave placed his weapon again in his belt, exclaiming: "Ugh! I would not hurt you for anything. I only wanted to scare you as I did the Americans."
Under half pay as an English officer, the well-known Mohawk Chieftain held a commission of colonel from the King of England, although he was usually called Captain. He encouraged missionaries to come among his people, lived gorgeously with a retinue of thirty negro servants, and took great interest in the progress of his tribe. Yet his life was not an entirely easy one, as numerous enemies plotted against his life. One Dutchman, whose entire family had been killed by Brant's warriors in the Mohawk Valley, swore revenge against him and shadowed him by day and night, awaiting an opportunity to kill him. And he nearly did so in New York, where the Mohawk Chief had taken a room at a hotel which fronted on Broadway. Looking out of his window, he saw this infuriated settler aiming a gun at him from the opposite side of the street, but, as luck would have it, a Colonial officer saw the act, and running to the angry Dutchman, took his gun away from him before he could fire it.
This was not the only attempt against the life of the noted Indian brave. He was shot at one day when walking through the streets, by an unseen enemy in an old outhouse. Startled by this, he planned to return to Canada through the Mohawk Valley, but was told that he would be assassinated if he did so. He, therefore, changed his course and went home by vessel along the coast. In New York State he was detested and hated. Men remembered the awful butcheries of his Mohawks and the carnage of the battles in this state, and had Brant ever ventured among them, he would never have gotten away alive. Sorrowed by events and seeing the gradual disintegration of his tribe, the celebrated warrior spent his declining years in sadness and regret. "Colonel Brant is a man of education," wrote Aaron Burr. "He speaks English perfectly and has seen much of England and America. Receive him with respect and hospitality. He is not one of those Indians who drink, but is quite a gentleman; one, in fact, who understands and practices what belongs to propriety and good breeding."
A remarkable piece of work by this renowned warrior was the translation of the Gospel of John and the Book of Common Prayer into the Mohawk language, copies of which are in the Harvard University. His wife, a half-breed, refused to conform to civilized life, and finally removed to a wigwam, taking some of her children with her and leaving others at her former home. The great chief, himself, died in 1807, at the age of sixty-four years, saying to a white friend with his last breath: "Have pity on the poor Indian; if you have any influence with the great Englishmen, endeavor to do all the good that you can for the poor Mohawks."
Buried beside the church which he had built at Grand River, the first church in Upper Canada, there now stands a monument over his grave, said to have cost thirty thousand dollars. Upon it is the following inscription:
"This tomb is erected to the memory of Thay-en-da-negea, or Captain Joseph Brant, principal chief and warrior of the Six Nation Indians, by his fellow subjects, and admirers of his fidelity and attachment to the British Crown."