Prelude to Glory, Vol. 4

by Ron Carter

  To solidify his leadership among the Iroquois, Brant, with the British Superintendent of Indian Affairs, Sir Guy Johnson, and a Mohawk companion, John Hill Oteronyente, sailed the great waters to England, where he was courted by King George III. Amid great fanfare he was introduced to the high and powerful in the English government and society. He held council with Lord George Germain, where he was assured the British would resolve his complaints against the Americans, who were encroaching on the territory of the Iroquois confederation, as soon as the troublesome American rebellion was put down. And when Germain told him the Mohawk nation was capable of being a great ally to the British in quelling the Americans, Brant committed to lend all assistance possible.

  He was initiated into the Falcon Lodge of the Freemasons and interviewed by reporters of the great newspapers. Much was said when the king presented him with a gift of a silver, engraved gorget, or throat collar, a token of the bonds and promises existing between the two peoples—English and Mohawk.

  Bedecked with laurels and finery, Brant returned to America in the summer of 1776, the most famous and honored red man on the continent. He found the British and Americans locked in war, their opposing forces gathering around New York for the battle each side thought would be decisive. Either the Americans would win their freedom, or the British would subdue and reclaim them.

  Brant sought out General William Howe and offered his services. It was his Mohawk warriors who led the night march of ten thousand British regulars eastward on Long Island, then north through the Jamaica Pass, then back to the west to come in behind George Washington’s Continental army, inflicting a catastrophic defeat upon the Americans that left them trapped in Brooklyn with their backs against the East River. Only the unbelievable skill and bravery of Colonel John Glover and his Marblehead fishermen in transporting the American survivors across the river to Manhattan Island, in one night, and a providential fog that covered them in the early hours of the morning, saved the shattered remains of the American rebellion.

  Impatient, anxious to quickly end the war, certain in his heart the British would conquer the rebellious Americans, Brant again sought out General Howe, as well as Sir Guy Johnson, to propose a plan. He volunteered to go north through the American lines, then east into the heart of the Five Nations country to rally his Mohawk brothers and others of the Iroquois confederation to take up the hatchet against the rebels. Howe reluctantly agreed, Colonel Johnson advised him to make a wampum belt to dignify the mission, and Captain Gilbert Tice volunteered to go with Brant. Disguised, moving at night, hiding during the day, they moved north up Manhattan Island, crossed to the New Jersey mainland near King’s Bridge, and veered left into the Catskill and then the Adirondack Mountains.

  Brant made his wampum belt, and sent messengers ahead to proclaim his coming. The Great Joseph Brant is coming with a wampum belt! He has counseled with the good and kindly Father across the great waters and received honors and gifts and laurels! He now returns to share with you his knowledge and wisdom. Come. Gather to hear him.

  Dressed in his British finery, with a silver chain holding the heavy silver gorget inscribed by King George III about his throat, he struck awe into those who came. He stopped at the Onoquaga village in an elbow of the Susquehanna River and gave a great oration to the Oneida, Tuscarora, Mohawk, and Mohicans gathered there. “I am sent by the Great Father in England, and by his General William Howe and Colonel Johnson. The rebellious Americans are threatening their Father in England, and they are threatening you, your villages, your families, all you hold sacred from your ancestors. Rise. Unite. Join the Great Father in bringing his rebellious children, the Americans, into subjection, and we will once again live in peace under the Great Iroquois Constitution and Confederation.”

  The sachems—the medicine men and spiritual leaders in the village—reminded the people of their pledge to take neither side. Let the Great Father bring his own children back into his fold. But so powerful was Brant in appearance and speech that some of the Iroquois broke from the time-honored rule of following their spiritual leaders, the sachems, and chose to follow instead a warrior, Brant. He continued to the west branch of the Susquehanna and gathered the Delawares, then proceeded on north to the Seneca village of Chenussio to persuade those gathered there.

  With winter upon them, he made snowshoes and continued on to the large village at Niagara. There he met and reported his orders from General William Howe and his journey since leaving New York to a distrustful and antagonistic Major John Butler, then continued on to deliver his message to the smaller villages as he made his way to the great village of Onondaga. There, he spoke to large gatherings. His message always the same: the Americans are threatening not only their Great Father over the waters, but they are threatening the Iroquois confederation. Arise. Assist the great and good Father in restoring peace.

  He left his wampum belt with the Onondaga sachems to become part of the great collection of Iroquois history. Then, with spring in the air, he sent word to the four great leaders of the Tuscarora and Oneidas: I am coming to the village of Ganaghsaraga, west of the headwaters of the Chenango River. Meet me there.

  He received word back. No, they preferred not to come. If Brant had a message for them, let him come to them to deliver it. Then, with the days growing longer and the buds swelling in the trees, they recanted, and came to meet with him.

  He appeared before them in all his splendid finery, with the sun reflecting off the king’s large, silver gorget about his neck. He reached deep inside to deliver his message with power. They listened, then met in their own council, and returned to him. No, they would not take up the hatchet against the Americans. They had long ago given their pledge to remain neutral, and they intended honoring it. If the Great Father was as powerful as Brant had claimed, he did not need help from the Iroquois confederation to discipline his disobedient children. Brant moved on, stopping in the villages of the Cayugas to gather support for the British cause.

  Word of Brant’s journey through the heart of the Iroquois confederation, and of his stirring the warriors against the Americans, spread rapidly through the mountains and valleys by that mystical process known only to the Indians. It was whispered in Albany and heard by General Philip Schuyler, recently commissioned commander of the American northern army, who had a long history of living in the wilderness.

  Schuyler had no illusions. To have a man of the heroic stature and tremendous influence of Brant systematically turning the Iroquois confederation from its pledge of neutrality to take up the hatchet against the Americans struck terror into his heart and that of his staff. If the Americans were to retain control of the Lake Champlain–Hudson River waterway, they must either neutralize the Indians in the western mountains, or conquer them. It was not a question of choice. It was a question of do-or-die necessity.

  One hundred ten miles north of Schuyler, at Cumberland Head, General John Burgoyne and his staff had reached the same conclusion. Either gain the support of the Iroquois confederation, or fail in their expedition down the great waterway.

  Thus the issue resolved itself into a single proposition, on which victory would stand or fall. Control the Iroquois, and consequently the waterway, or lose the war. And while the saying of it was easy, the doing of it was not. No white man on either side fully understood the simple innocence, the childlike mind of the Iroquois, whose world was grounded on the fundamental lessons life had taught them over centuries of surviving in the forest. They were not prepared to deal with the intrigues, the hidden motives, the latent manipulations, and the subversive, brutal politics of the white man. With a naive faith, they believed what they were told by the white men simply because it did not enter their minds to do otherwise. When treachery was discovered, the fury of their revenge knew no limits, and the bewildered white men could only accuse them of being ignorant savages when they came with scalping knife and tomahawk.

  Feeling the beginnings of desperation, and knowing the weakness of the red men for the
goods of the whites, Schuyler ordered the hasty construction of a trading post at Fort Stanwix, far to the west in Iroquois territory, and stocked it with an abundance of muskets, axes, hatchets, glass trinkets, looking glasses, traps, blankets, cloth, sugar, and salt. Samuel Kirkland, a lifelong missionary to the Indians, watched them flock to the new treasure, then loaded six barrels of rum into a wagon and traveled long distances to report to the Iroquois villages the unbelievable news of the great victories achieved by General Washington at Trenton and Princeton. With a barrel of free rum to assist him in the telling, Kirkland found ready audiences in each of the villages.

  Electrified by the news that the Americans had beaten the feared redcoats and Hessians, the Iroquois celebrated, shooting off their village cannon, and drinking themselves senseless on the rum that was slowly making devastating inroads into their society.

  Then came disheartening news from the west. An unknown white man’s disease had swept through Onondaga, the Iroquois capitol, killing great numbers of the people and three of their sachems. Onondaga had taken a nearly fatal blow. The great council fire, a symbol of peace, that was to burn forever, died, and with heavy hearts the message was sent: we cannot keep the fire burning, and it is extinguished. We will support peace as best we can, but the Great Fire is gone.

  Kirkland well understood that the catastrophe at Onondaga could be the beginning of the unraveling of the great Iroquois confederation. He quickly advised Schuyler that if the Confederation was to be saved, Schuyler must go to Onondaga and there perform the Ceremony of Condolence with all speed, replace the lost sachems, stabilize the Iroquois government, and rekindle the Great Fire of the Iroquois nations. Hurriedly Schuyler sent men to conduct the condolence ceremony and instructed them to extend to all Iroquois nations an invitation to a great celebration to be held at Onondaga on July 15, 1777. It was to be a glorious event, with a wealth of gifts from the Americans for their red brothers, at which the Iroquois would solemnly renew their pledge to remain neutral and friendly to their great neighbors and benefactors, the Americans.

  The condolence ceremony succeeded. The Council fire was lighted again, once more burning as a symbol of the eternal flame of peace among the Iroquois nations. But the invitation to a grand council of July fifteenth reached Brant, and he and Butler set out once again in their insidious work of stirring up the Iroquois, dividing them, preparing them to breach their pledge of neutrality and take up the hatchet against the Americans.

  Suddenly the heartland of the Iroquois nations was alive with the hotly divisive conflict between those who followed Brant and those who did not. Whispers became rumbles, then open disputes. Tomahawks and muskets that had long been wrapped in deerskin and buried began to appear. Because their history had not prepared them to cope with being manipulated by the hidden intrigues, promises, lies, and political sophistication of the British and Americans, the inevitable process of taking sides began among the Iroquois nations.

  With his intimate knowledge of his own people, Brant knew when and where he should go next to solidify his leadership among those who had committed to take up the hatchet and follow him in an alliance with the British. In early June he once again visited the strategically critical village of Unadilla, located in the angle where the Susquehanna and the Tienaderha Rivers joined. He sent William Johnson Jr. ahead to assure the nervous residents of Brant’s peaceful intentions. Upon his arrival he counseled with the village minister and his son, entreating them that they had used him and his men poorly, requesting that they soften their opposition to his mission. He asked for supplies for his continued journey, which they provided. He thanked them and departed in peace, but he knew he had accomplished his intentions when his scouts brought him the news. Many of the families who favored the Americans had packed what belongings they could, and on the day Brant left Unadilla, they had fled to the east. They did not want to be in Unadilla for the massacre, should Brant return with his warriors.

  War was in the wind. Schuyler ordered Colonel Van Schaick to take one hundred fifty armed soldiers and move instantly into the Iroquois country to protect American interests. Brant’s spies and scouts brought the news to him the day they saw uniformed Americans marching through the green valleys, and he thoughtfully considered it. It was good, he concluded. He had spent the entire winter and spring preparing as many of the Iroquois as he could to take up the British cause, which was clearly the wise course if he intended saving his own people. His work of preparation was done. The time for them to make their decision was fast approaching.

  When the news of Schuyler’s proposed July fifteenth grand council at Onondaga reached British Major John Butler at Fort Niagara, his reaction was instant and decisive. With a body of Seneca and western warriors he sailed to Irondequoit, where a great assembly of Senecas, including warriors, sachems, women, and children were gathered. The British showered them with gifts of every description, declaring over and over again how generous and kind their great friend and father in England was to see to their every need. Rum flowed like a river. After two days, the British suggested the Senecas hold a council and reconsider their pledge of neutrality. They were reminded that nothing could be more clear than the fact the British had the power to protect and provide for their red brothers, while the poor Americans could do nothing for them. The Senecas returned from their council and announced their decision. They had pledged neutrality to the Americans, and they would not break their pledge.

  Again, Butler showered them with gifts, and all but drowned them with rum. Once more he requested they meet in council to consider who could best protect and provide for them. Their council lasted one day, and was carried over into the next. Slowly the men became divided, and the women and children entered into the fiery debate.

  In the midst of the argument, a second ship ordered by Butler arrived, loaded to the gunwales with gifts. With the entire Seneca delegation watching, the British unloaded the ship and broke open the wooden crates. Tens of thousands of colored glass beads, small bells that jingled, and ostrich feathers were handed out to the silent Senecas, who stood transfixed with things they had never seen before, nor had ever supposed. Their silence turned to buzzing talk, then to open shouts of glee and joy. Never had they been so delighted with the gifts that could adorn their necks, wrists, clothing. Surely, surely, the Great Father across the waters in England would protect and provide for them forever.

  Shrewdly, Butler waited until the Seneca council reconvened, and then he approached them as they sat before the council fire. In his hands were two wampum belts. One was the ancient Great Old Covenant Chain, remembered by the elders, new to the young, by which the Seneca had in times long past sworn eternal allegiance to the king of England. The elders exclaimed, it is true! Many years ago we made the promise! The second belt was confirmation of the covenant. Surrounded by the gifts and awash in rum, it became clear to the Seneca. They were honor bound to reaffirm their allegiance to the good and generous father in England. They all agreed. Warriors, sachems, even the women and children.

  To solidify and celebrate the reaffirmation, the British threw a lavish feast that evening. To the astonishment and utter delight of the Indians, they presented still more gifts. New suits of clothing were handed out to everyone, and brass cooking kettles, guns, ammunition, tomahawks, scalping knives, and money was given to the chiefs.

  Watching for the right moment, Butler made two final announcements: there would be a reward for every scalp taken from an American, and, the Seneca were entitled to name two war chiefs to lead them into the great battles yet to come. The Senecas met once more in council to make their selection, then returned to Butler to inform the British.

  They had selected Sayehqueragha of the Turtle Clan, and Gayentwahga of the Wolf Clan. The name Sayehqueragha translated to “He who is lost in the smoke,” or, “Smoke revanishes.” Gayentwahga translated to “Cornplanter.” It was never known whether the Senecas had remembered that Thayendanagea, or Joseph Brant, was also from the Wolf
Clan. It was only known that the two great war chiefs, Joseph Brant and Cornplanter, both from the mighty Wolf Clan, were among those designated to lead their Iroquois followers into battle against the Americans.

  Few of the Iroquois seemed to comprehend the momentous, heartrending truth that had come to pass. The mighty Iroquois confederation, which was to last forever, was undone. The British and Americans? The fate of the Iroquois was of little consequence to either. The single question that burned in both of their minds was, which side will the Iroquois follow?

  With the heartland of the great Iroquois confederation a seething cauldron of division and conflict, news of what Butler and Brant had done at Irondequoit, and of the resulting sudden shift of the Senecas from the Americans to the British, reached veteran militia Brigadier General Nicholas Herkimer. He and his command of the Tryon County, New York state militia were stationed at Fort Dayton, on the north bank of the Mohawk River, just east of Canada Creek.

  * * * * *

  “Repeat that.”

  “Brant and Cornplanter was right there at Irondequoit with Butler and a lot of other British. They unloaded one boat of guns and a lot of other things for war, and a second boat with baubles and trinkets, and handed it all out to the Seneca. Then they gave out maybe thirty barrels of rum, and when the Seneca was falling-down drunk, Butler brought out those two old wampum belts the Indians got so much faith in, and Brant got ’em to swear to help the British. Men, women, kids, sachems—all of ’em. I was there. I seen it.”