From Cleveland nothing worth relating occurred until I arrived at home, in Bourbon county, Kentucky; where I found my friends all in good health, my father excepted, who had gone to face the same enemy from whom I had just made my escape.
NARRATIVE
OF
MR. JOHN DAVENPORT.
During the battle which was fought on the 18th of January, 1813, between the American forces, under the command of Colonel Lewis, and the combined British and Indians, I received a wound in my right leg by a ball which fractured the bone, but did not entirely break it. After the battle was over I, with many others who were also wounded, was carried off the field and put in a house, where we remained until after the battle of the 22d, when we were surrendered prisoners of war to the British. I remained here during the night of the 22d, with the expectation of being carried to Malden the next day, but in this I was disappointed. On the morning of the 23d I witnessed the most horrid scenes of cruelty imaginable; for the British, instead of sending sleighs, as was most solemnly promised, to convey the wounded prisoners to Maiden, sent the Indians, who, after selecting a few from amongst the wounded, tomahawked and scalped the rest in the most savage and cruel manner that malice could invent, or devils incarnate execute, and set fire to the houses in which they had been and burned them to ashes! Then, instead of going to Malden, they took me to Brownstown, where I had nothing to eat except a little parched corn. While I was at Brownstown an Indian asked me whether I had a squaw, to which I answered in the negative. He then replied, “We make an Indian of you, and by’n by you have a squaw, by’n by you have a gun and horse and go a hunting.� The next day we proceeded on our march until we came near the River Rouge, where the Indians procured some provisions, consisting of fresh meat, but no salt. From here we set off again and travelled slowly (I rather think to favor the wounded) until we arrived at their encampment, three or four miles from Detroit, at which place there were a number of squaws and children who had taken up winter quarters.
As soon as we had arrived at this place I was presented to an old squaw, whom the Indians instructed me to call by the appellation of mother. This old witch, as I took her to be, had lost two sons at the River Raisin; I had therefore to supply the place of one of them, and thus had to become the adopted son of the most hideous of all animals that ever roamed over the forests of North America. After this they dressed my wound for the first time, which now appeared to be getting well fast; in the next place they trimmed my hair off, except a small quantity on the top of my head, and painted me; then adorned me with ear-rings, bracelets, &c. and put a band of silver round my head. By this time I began to look very stylish, or rather made as uncouth and grotesque a figure as any of my copper-colored brethren.
While we remained at this place Mr. Gabriel Godfrey, a citizen of Detroit, offered the Indians $100 for my ransom, which they refused. I now began to conclude that there were no other means of extricating myself from bondage, unless it were by flight, and therefore determined to embrace the first opportunity that presented. In a few days after, the Indians presented a squaw to me, who appeared to have little more of humanity than the form, but equally as detestable as my mother, although she was younger. This ugly looking creature the Indians told me I should marry! I confess I never was so shocked at the thoughts of matrimony in my life! I told them “no good squaw.� They then brought several more of those inhuman looking creatures, whom I understood were also candidates for conjugal felicity. I told them “by’n by I have a squaw.� This appeared to satisfy them at the present time; in this manner I frequently had to put them off.
They frequently solicited me to wear a breech-clout, which I always refused. One time my mother discovered me mending my pantaloons; thinking this a good opportunity to get me to wear one, she immediately brought one, which I took hold of and said “no good,� then threw it down and stamped it. At the sight of this she was very much enraged, and scolded desperately to herself in her own Indian dialect. I have often wondered since that they did not kill me for disobeying their orders, for I was extremely obstinate, and scarcely ever complied with their injunctions.
Notwithstanding my disobedience, the Indians treated me as well as was in their power, especially my mother, who was very kind to me. Some considerable time I had to eat my victuals without salt. I knew they had none, yet I would always ask for some. My old mother, after some time, procured some for me, which she kept hid to prevent the others from making use of it, and never failed to give me a small portion when I was eating.
Intoxication is practised by the squaws as well as the men; they frequently have drunken frolics, at which times it is dangerous for prisoners to be amongst them. During these frantic revels the prisoners are kept hid by the squaws (a part of whom keep sober) to keep them from being murdered. One night, after the rest had gone to bed, my mother, who had stayed out later than usual, came in, sat down, and began to sing; she did not appear to be in her senses; I soon discovered that this old priestess of Bacchus had got very drunk. In this mood she seized hold of the fire and threw it on those who were sleeping round the fire, which soon caused them to rise; she then jumped into the fire and danced until she had burned the soles of her moccasons off.
They continued here about a month, and then removed about eight miles on the River Rouge, in order to prepare for making sugar. While we were employed at this business a Frenchman persuaded me to marry a squaw, if they insisted, for I would then be treated with more respect, and consequently would have greater liberties. After mature consideration, I thought probably this would be the best plan I could adopt, in order to make my escape, and therefore resolved to marry the next one that was presented to me. It was not long before they brought me a squaw (the most decent looking one I had seen), whom I resolved to marry without hesitation. I however, when just on the point of forming a connubial alliance with her, was prevented by an Indian, who claimed her as his squaw.
Several weeks before the battle of Fort Meigs, the Indians began to collect and dance the war-dance.