[FN] The Indian referred to the company of Lieut. Boyd.
On their arrival at Niagara, the prisoners were less fortunate than Harper and his companions had been, since they were compelled to run the gauntlet between long lines of the savages—a ceremony which they looked upon with great dread, particularly on account of their debilitated condition and the soreness of their feet. But in this operation they were favored by their captors, who interposed to prevent injury. In his narrative, Captain Snyder described fort Niagara at that time as a structure of considerable magnitude and great strength, enclosing an area of from six to eight acres. Within the enclosure was a handsome dwelling-house, for the residence of the Superintendent of the Indians. It was then occupied by Colonel Guy Johnson, before whom the Captain and his son were brought for examination. Colonel Butler, with his rangers, lay upon the opposite, or northern side of the river. At a given signal, the Colonel, with two of his subalterns, crossed over to attend the examination. Indeed, the principal object for the capture of Captain Snyder seems to have been to obtain information. Their examination was stern and searching, but the examiners were unable to elicit enough of news to compensate for the trouble of their taking.
Captain Snyder described Guy Johnson as being a short, pursy man, about forty years of age, of stern countenance and haughty demeanor—dressed in a British uniform, powdered locks, and a cocked hat. His voice was harsh, and his tongue bore evidence of his Irish extraction. While in the guard-house, the prisoners were visited by Brant, of whom Captain Snyder says—"He was a likely fellow, of a fierce aspect—tall and rather spare—well spoken, and apparently about thirty (forty) years of age. He wore moccasins, elegantly trimmed with beads—leggings and breech-cloth of superfine blue—short green coat, with two silver epaulets—and a small, laced, round hat. By his side hung an elegant silver-mounted cutlass, and his blanket of blue cloth, purposely dropped in the chair on which he sat, to display his epaulets, was gorgeously decorated with a border of red." He asked many questions, and among others, from whence they came. On being answered Æsopus, he replied—"That is my fighting ground." In the course of the conversation, Brant said to the younger Snyder—"You are young, and you I pity; but for that old villain there," pointing at the father, "I have no pity." Captain Snyder was of course not very favorably impressed toward the Mohawk chief, and has recorded his dislike.
The Snyders found many acquaintances at the head-quarters of the Indians and loyalists, some of whom were prisoners like themselves, and others in the ranks of the enemy. From Niagara, the two prisoners were transported by water, first to Carleton Island in the St. Lawrence, and thence, at a subsequent period, to Montreal. At the latter place they were employed at labor, and regularly paid their wages, which enabled them to purchase various little comforts to meliorate their condition. Indeed, they were so fortunate as to fall into the hands of humane people at every stage of their captivity, and their lot was far less severe than that of most of their countrymen in the like situation. At the end of two years, having been transferred from Montreal to an island some distance higher up the St. Lawrence, both father and son, with several other prisoners, succeeded in effecting their escape. [FN]
[FN] Captain Snyder lived until the year 1827, and his narrative, taken from his own lips, was written by Charles H. De Witt, Esq.
The Mohawk Valley proper, during the Winter of 1780, had enjoyed a period of comparative repose—interrupted only by the common alarms incident to an unprotected border, at all times liable to invasion, and the people, as a consequence, feeling continually more or less insecure. Still, there was not a single demonstration of the enemy in the lower part of the country, during the cold season, worthy of note. Among the prisoners taken by the Tories who two years before had returned from Canada after their families, and who had most unaccountably been suffered to depart unmolested, was a very brave fellow by the name of Solomon Woodworth. He was entrusted to a party of Indians, acting in concert with the Tories on their arrival at the Sacondaga, from whom he effected his escape on the following day. These Indians, it appears, mortified at his successful flight, had resolved either upon his recapture or his destruction. Woodworth, in the Winter or Spring of 1780, was occupying, alone, a block-house situated about eight miles north of Johnstown. While thus solitary, his castle was attacked in the dead of night, by a small party of Indians, who set fire to it. Regardless of danger, however, he ran out amidst a shower of bullets, extinguished the fire, and retreated within the walls again, before the Indians, who had withdrawn some distance from the blockhouse, could re-approach sufficiently near to seize him. As the night was not very dark, Woodworth saw a group of the savages through the port-holes, upon whom he fired, not without effect—one of their number, as it subsequently appeared, being severely wounded. This disaster caused the Indians to retire. But Woodworth was not satisfied. Collecting half a dozen kindred spirits, the next morning he gave chase to the intruders, and after following their trail three days, overtook them—they having halted to dress the wound of their companion. The pursuers came so suddenly upon them, as to succeed in despatching the whole number without allowing them time to offer resistance. The little band returned to Johnstown in triumph; and their leader was immediately commissioned a lieutenant in a regiment of nine months men—in which service he had again an opportunity of showing his prowess, as will be seen hereafter. [FN]
[FN] Information from the Rev. John I. Shew, of Northampton, N. Y., residing near the place where the block-house stood.
It was at about the same time that a party of Tories and Indians made a descent upon the small settlement at the Little Falls of the Mohawk, for the purpose of destroying the mills erected at that place by Alexander Ellis. This gentleman was a Scotch merchant, who, under the favor of Sir William Johnson, had obtained a patent of the wild mountain gorge through which the Mohawk leaps from the upper into the lower section of the valley. He had himself returned to his own country; but his mills were particularly important to the inhabitants, and also to the garrisons of Forts Dayton and Herkimer—more especially since the burning of the mills at the German Flats by Thayendanegea two years before. Hence the present expedition for their destruction, which was easily accomplished—the enemy having stolen upon the settlement unawares, and the flouring mill being garrisoned by not more than a dozen men. Only a few shots were exchanged, and but one man was killed—Daniel Petrie. As the Indians entered the mill, the occupants endeavored to escape as fast as they could—some leaping from the windows, and others endeavoring to conceal themselves below. It was night, and two of the number, Cox and Skinner, succeeded in ensconcing themselves in the race-way, beneath the water-wheel—Skinner having previously made fight hand to hand, and been wounded by a cut from a tomahawk. Two of their companions, Christian Edick and Frederick Getman, leaped into the race-way above the mill, and endeavored to conceal themselves by keeping as much under water as possible. But the application of the torch to the mills soon revealed the aquatic retreat, and they were taken. Not so with Cox and Skinner, who survived the storm of battle, and the mingled elements of fire and water; the showers of coals and burning brands being at once extinguished as they fell around them, while the water-wheel served as an effectual protection against the falling timbers. The enemy retired after accomplishing their object, carrying away five or six prisoners. [FN]