The Minute Boys of the Mohawk Valley | Page 2

did I find that he had drawn upon his imagination,
therefore I resolved to write it down as the lad himself would have
spoken, being able, because of the letters, to put myself very nearly in
his place.
I would it had been possible to say more concerning Thayendanega and
Sir John Johnson, for they played important parts in the making of
Mohawk Valley history; but Noel's own account was of such length
that I did not feel warranted in adding to it.
To the best of my knowledge and belief, the tale of the "Minute Boys
of the Mohawk Valley" is no more than a narration of facts, as can be
verified by reference to any of our standard histories of the beginnings
of this nation.
If the reader can find in the reading one-half the pleasure I have had in
interpreting Noel Campbell's odd speech, and smoothing down his too
vigorous language, then will he be richly repaid for the perusal.
James Otis.

List of Illustrations

"An Indian strode gravely into the encampment" "'You have done well
to get back alive'" "Sergeant Corney waved the bit of fringe slowly to
and fro" "'Tire 'em out, lads!' the General shouted" "Three or four
hundred Indians were dancing wildly around a huge fire" "With
upraised hands, stepped out from amid the screen of foliage" "The

painted villain sank down upon the ground" "Keep a-movin' unless
you're achin' to have a bullet through the back'"
Chapter I.
Young Soldiers

It sounds like an unreasonable tale, or something after the style of a
fairy-story, to say that a party of lads, drilling with wooden guns, were
able, without being conscious of the fact, to frighten from his bloody
work such a murderous, powerful sachem as Thayendanega, or Joseph
Brant, to use his English name, but such is the undisputed fact.
It was the month of May in the year of our Lord 1777, when we of
Cherry Valley, in the Province of New York, learned that this same
Thayendanega, a pure-blooded Mohawk Indian, whose father was chief
of the Onondaga nation, had come into the Mohawk Valley from
Canada with a large force of Indians, who, under the wicked tutoring of
Sir John Johnson, were ripe for mischief.
Col. Samuel Campbell, my uncle, was one of the leading patriots in
that section of the province, and it was well known that the
Johnsons,--Sir John and Guy,--the Butlers, Daniel Claus, and, in fact,
all the Tories nearabout, would direct that the first blow be struck at
Cherry Valley, in order that my uncle might be killed or made prisoner;
therefore, at the time when we lads frightened Joseph Brant without our
own knowledge, we were in daily fear of being set upon by our
enemies.
Among the boys of the settlement I, Noel Campbell, was looked upon
as a leader simply because my uncle was the most influential Whig in
the vicinity, and my particular friend and comrade was Jacob Sitz, son
of Peter, a lad who could easily best us all in trials of strength or of
woodcraft.
We had heard of the Minute Men of Lexington and of the Green

Mountains, and when the day came that all the able-bodied men of our
valley banded themselves together for the protection of their homes
against our neighbors, the Tories, who thirsted for patriot blood, we
lads decided that we were old enough to do our share in whatsoever
might be afoot.
Therefore it was that two score of us formed a league to help defend the
settlements, and gave ourselves the name of "Minute Boys of the
Mohawk Valley."
There was then living in Cherry Valley an old Prussian soldier by name
Cornelius Braun, who, in his native land, had won the rank of sergeant;
but, having grown too old for very active military duty, came to this
country with the idea of making a home for himself. Sergeant Corney,
as nearly every one called him, was not so old, however, but that he
could strike a blow, and a heavy one, in his own defence, and when he
learned what we lads proposed to do, he offered to drill us in the
manual of arms.
We were not overly well equipped in the way of weapons, although it is
safe to say that each of us had a firearm of some sort; but it seemed to
give Sergeant Corney the fidgets to see us carrying such a motley
collection of guns, and he insisted on making a quantity of wooden
muskets to be used in the drill, to the end that we might present a more
soldierly appearance when lined up before him.
Therefore it was that, when we came each day on the green in front of
my uncle's