History of the early settlement and Indian wars of Western Virginia embracing an account of the various expeditions in the West, previous to 1795. Also, biographical sketches of Ebenezer Zane, Major Samuel M'Colloch, Lewis Wetzel, Genl. Andrew Lewis, Genl. Daniel Brodhead, Capt. Samuel Brady, Col. Wm. Crawford, other distinguished actors in our border wars |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | VI. |
| I. |
| A. |
| B. |
| C. |
| C. |
| E. |
| II. |
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| 1788. |
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| VII. |
 | CHAPTER II. History of the early settlement and Indian wars of Western Virginia |  |
1788.
THE JOHNSON BOYS.
All who have read anything of western history, will
remember the thrilling feat of the two Johnson boys. As
many very contradictory accounts have been given of that
occurrence, which so links their name with the heroic age of
the west, we were anxious to procure the full facts, and for
this purpose consulted the surviving brother, now a hale old
man of seventy-four, living in Monroe county, Ohio. In
answer to our inquiry, he has written out a detailed statement
of the whole transaction, which it affords us sincere
pleasure to herewith submit:
January 18th, 1851.
Yours of the 8th instant has just come to
hand, and I with pleasure sit down to answer your request,
which is a statement of my adventure with the Indians. I
born in Westmoreland county, Pennsylvania, February 4th,
1777. When about eight years old, my father, James Johnson,
having a large family to provide for, sold his farm, with
the expectation of acquiring larger possessions further west.
Thus he was stimulated to encounter the perils of a pioneer
life. He crossed the Ohio river, and bought some improvements
on what was called Beach Bottom Flats, two and a
half miles from the river, and three or four miles above the
mouth of Short creek, with the expectation of holding by
improvement right under the Virginia claim. Soon after we
reached there, the Indians became troublesome; they stole
horses, and killed a number of persons in our neighborhood.
When I was between eleven and twelve years old, in the
month of October, 1788, I was taken prisoner by the Indians,
with my brother John, who was about eighteen months older
than I. The circumstances were as follows:—On Saturday
evening, we were out with an older brother, and came home
late in the evening. The next morning one of us had lost a
hat, and about the middle of the day, we thought that perhaps
we had left it where we had been at work, about three-fourths
of a mile from the house. We went to the place and
found the hat, and sat down on a log by the road-side, and
commenced cracking nuts. In a short time we saw two men
coming toward us from the house. By their dress, we supposed
they were two of our neighbors, James Perdue and
J. Russell. We paid but little attention to them, until they
came quite near us, when we saw our mistake; they were
black. To escape by flight was impossible, had we been disposed
to try. We sat still until they came up. One of
them said, "How do, brodder?" My brother asked them if
they were Indians, and they answered in the affirmative, and
said we must go with them. One of them had a blue buckskin
pouch, which we gave my brother to carry, and without
further ceremony, he took up the line of march for the
wilderness, not knowing whether we should ever return to
officers, of course we obeyed orders rather tardily.
The mode of march was thus—one of the Indians walked
about ten steps before, the other about ten behind us. After
travelling some distance, we halted in a deep hollow and sat
down. They took out their knives and whet them, and talked
some time in the Indian tongue, which we could not understand.
My brother and me sat eight or ten steps from them,
and talked about killing them that night, and make our
escape. I thought, from their looks and actions, that they
were going to kill us; and, strange to say, I felt no alarm.
I thought I would rather die than go with them. The most
of my trouble was, that my father and mother would be fretting
after us—not knowing what had become of us. I expressed
my thoughts to John, who went and began to talk
with them. He said that father was cross to him, and made
him work hard, and that he did not like hard work; that he
would rather be a hunter, and live in the woods. This seemed
to please them; for they put up their knives, and talked more
lively and pleasantly. We became very familiar, and many
questions passed between us; all parties were very inquisitive.
They asked my brother which way home was, several
times, and he would tell them the contrary way every time,
although he knew the way very well. This would make them
laugh; they thought we were lost, and that we knew no better.
They conducted us over the Short creek hills in search
of horses, but found none; so we continued on foot until
night, when we halted in a hollow, about three miles from
Carpenter's fort, and about four from the place where they
first took us; our route being somewhat circuitous, we made
but slow progress. As night began to close in, I became
fretful. My brother encouraged me, by whispering that
we would kill them that night. After they had selected
the place of our encampment, one of them scouted round,
whilst the other struck fire, which was done by stopping the
touch-hole of his gun, and flashing powder in the pan. After
went to an old stump, to get some tinder wood, and while he
was thus employed, my brother John took the gun, cocked it,
and was about to shoot the Indian: alarmed lest the other
might be close by, I remonstrated, and taking hold of the
gun, prevented him shooting; at the same time I begged him
to wait till night, and I would help him kill them both.
The other Indian came back about dark, when we took our
supper, such as it was,—some corn parched on the coals, and
some roasted pork. We then sat and talked for some time.
They seemed to be acquainted with the whole border settlement,
from Marietta to Beaver, and could number every
fort and block-house, and asked my brother how many fighting
men there were in each place, and how many guns. In
some places, my brother said, there were a good many more
guns than there were fighting men. They asked what use
were these guns. He said the women could load while the
men fired. But how did these guns get there? My brother
said, when the war was over with Great Britain, the soldiers
that were enlisted during the war were discharged, and they
left a great many of their guns at the stations. They asked
my brother who owned that black horse that wore a bell? He
answered, father. They then said the Indians could never
catch that horse. We then went to bed on the naked ground,
to rest and study out the best mode of attack. They put us
between them, that they might be the better able to guard us.
After awhile, one of the Indians, supposing we were asleep,
got up and stretched himself on the other side of the fire, and
soon began to snore. John, who had been watching every
motion, found they were sound asleep. He whispered to me
to get up, which we did as carefully as possible. John took
the gun with which the Indian had struck fire, cocked it, and
placed it in the direction of the head of one of the Indians.
He then took a tomahawk, and drew it over the head of the
other Indian. I pulled the trigger, and he struck at the same
instant; the blow falling too far back on the neck, only
uttering most hideous yells, but my brother repeated the
blows with such effect that the conflict became terrible, and
somewhat doubtful. The Indian, however, was forced to
yield to the blows he received on his head, and in a short
time he lay quiet at our feet. The one that was shot never
moved; and fearing there were others close by, we hurried
off, and took nothing with us but the gun I shot with. They
had told us we would see Indians about to-morrow, so we
thought that there was a camp of Indians close by; and fearing
the report of the gun, the Indian hallooing, and I calling
to John, might bring them upon us, we took our course
towards the river, and on going about three-fourths of a mile,
came to a path which led to Carpenter's fort. My brother
here hung up his hat, that he might know where to take
off to find the camp. We got to the fort a little before daybreak.
We related our adventure, and the next day a small
party went out with my brother, and found the Indian that
was tomahawked, on the ground; the other had crawled off,
and was not found till some time after. He was shot through
close by the ear. Having concluded this narrative, I will give
a description of the two Indians. They were of the Delaware
tribe, and one of them a chief. He wore the badges of his
office—the wampum belt, three half-moons, and a silver plate
on his breast; bands of silver on both arms, and his ears cut
round and ornamented with silver; the hair on the top of his
head was done up with silver wire. The other Indian seemed
to be a kind of waiter. He was rather under size, a plain
man. He wore a fine beaver hat, with a hole shot through
the crown. My brother asked him about the hat. He said
he killed a captain and got his hat. My brother asked him
if he had killed many of the whites, and he answered, a good
many. He then asked him if the big Indian had killed many
of the whites, and he answered, a great many, and that he
was a great captain—a chief. * * * * *
In connection with the above, and to still further show of
what material the boys were made, in the great heroic age of
the west, we give the following, which we find in a recent
communication from Major Nye, of Ohio. The scene of
adventure was within the present limits of Wood county,
Virginia.
"I have heard from Mr. Guthrie, and others, that at Bellville
a man had a son, quite a youth, say twelve or fourteen years
of age, who had been used to firing his father's gun, as most
boys did in those days. He heard, he supposed, turkeys on
or near the bank of the Ohio, opposite that place, and asked
his father to let him take the gun, and kill one. His father,
knowing that the Indians frequently decoyed people by such
noises, refused, saying it was probably an Indian. When he
had gone to work, the boy took the gun and paddled his
canoe over the river, but had the precaution to land some
distance from where he had heard the turkey all the morning,
probably for fear of scaring the game, and perhaps a little
afraid of Indians. The banks were steep, and the boy cautiously
advanced to where he could see without being seen.
Watching awhile for his game, he happened to see an Indian
cautiously looking over a log, to notice where the boy had
landed. The lad fixed his gun at a rest, watching the
place where he had seen the Indian's head, and when it
appeared again, fired, and the Indian disappeared. The boy
dropped the gun and ran for his canoe, which he paddled over
the river as soon as possible. When he reached home, he
said, `Mother, I killed an Indian!' and the mother replied,
`No, you have not.' `Yes, I have,' said the boy. The
father coming in, he made the same report to him, and received
the same reply; but he constantly affirmed it was even so;
and, as the gun was left, a party took the boy over the river
to find it, and show the place where he shot the Indian,
and behold, his words were found verified. The ball had
entered the head, where the boy had affirmed he shot, between
the eye and ear."
Such "boys" made the men of the Republic in after
years—men whom neither tyranny nor oppression could
subdue.
CAPTIVITY OF MRS. GLASS.
Early on the morning of the 27th of March, two Indians
appeared on the premises of Mr. Glass, residing a few miles
back of the present town of Wellsburgh. At the time, Mrs. G.
was alone in her house, with the exception of an infant and a
small black girl. Mrs. Glass was spinning, and had sent her
negro woman to the woods for sugar water. In a few moments
she returned, screaming at the top of her voice, "Indians!
Indians!" Mrs. Glass jumped up, and running, first to the
window, then to the door, attempted to escape. But an Indian
met her, and presented his gun; Mrs. Glass caught hold of
the muzzle, turned it aside, and begged him not to kill her.
The other Indian, in the meantime, caught the negro woman,
and brought her into the house. They then opened a chest
and took out a small box and some articles of clothing, and
without doing any further damage, departed with their
prisoners. After proceeding about a mile and a half, they
halted, and held a consultation, as she supposed, to kill the
children. This she understood to be the subject by their
gestures. To one of the Indians, who could speak English,
she held out her little boy, and begged not to kill him, as
he would make a fine chief after awhile. The Indian made a
motion for her to walk on with her child. The other Indian
then struck the negro child with the pipe end of his tomahawk,
which knocked it down, and then, by a blow with the
edge, across the back of the neck, dispatched it.
"About four o'clock in the evening they reached the river,
a mile above the creek, and carried a canoe, which had been
thrown up in some drift wood, into the river. They got into
this canoe, and worked it down to the mouth of Rush run, a
mouth of the stream, as far as they could; going up the run
about a mile, encamped for the night. The Indians gave the
prisoners all their own clothes for covering, and one of them
added his own blanket. Shortly before daylight the Indians
got up, and put another blanket over them. The black
woman complained much on account of the loss of her child,
and they threatened, if she did not desist, to kill her.
"About sunrise they commenced their march, up a very steep
hill, and at two o'clock halted on Short creek, about twenty
miles from the place whence they set out in the morning.
The spot had been an encampment shortly before, as well as a
place of deposite for the plunder, which they had recently taken
from the house of a Mr. Vanmeter, whose family had been killed.
The plunder was deposited in a sycamore tree. They had
tapped some sugar trees when there before, and now kindled
a fire, and put on a brass kettle, with a turkey, which they had
killed on the way, to boil in sugar water.
"Mr. Glass was working, with a hired man in a field, about
a quarter of a mile from the house, when his wife and family
were taken, but knew nothing of the event until noon. After
searching about the place, and going to several houses in quest
of his family, he went to Wells' fort, collected ten men, and
that night lodged in a cabin, on the bottom on which the town
of Wellsburg now stands.
"Next morning they discovered the place where the Indians
had taken the canoe from the drift, and their tracks at the
place of embarkation. Mr. Glass could distinguish the
track of his wife by the print of the high heel of her shoe.
They crossed over the river, and went down on the other
side, until they came near the mouth of Rush run; but discovering
no tracks of the Indians, most of the men concluded
that they would go to the mouth of the Muskingum, by water,
and therefore wished to turn back. Mr. Glass begged of them
to go as far as the mouth of Short creek, which was only two
or three miles. To this they agreed. When they got to the
This was identified by a proof, which goes to show the presence
of mind of Mrs. Glass. While passing down the river, one of
the Indians threw into the water several papers, which he
had taken out of Mr. Glass' trunk; some of these she carelessly
picked up, and under pretence of giving them to the
child, dropped them into the bottom of the canoe. These left
no doubt. The trail of the Indians, and their prisoners, up
the run to their camp, and then up the river hill, was soon
discovered.
"About an hour after the Indians had halted, Mr. Glass and
his men came within sight of their camp. The object then
was to save the lives of the prisoners, by attacking the Indians
so unexpectedly, as not to allow time to kill them. With this
view, they crept along until they got within one hundred
yards of the camp. Fortunately, Mrs. Glass' little son had
gone to a sugar-tree, but not being able to get the water, his
mother had stepped out to get it for him. The negro woman
was sitting some distance from the two Indians, who were
looking attentively at a scarlet jacket, which they had taken
some time before. On a sudden they dropped the jacket, and
turned their eyes towards the men, who, supposing they were
discovered, immediately discharged several guns, and rushed
upon them, at full speed, with an Indian yell. One of the
Indians, it was supposed, was wounded the first fire, as he
fell and dropped his gun and shot pouch. After running
about one hundred yards, a second shot was fired after him,
by Maj. M'Guire, which brought him to his hands and knees;
but there was no time for pursuit, as the Indians had informed
Mrs. Glass that there was another encampment close by.
They therefore returned with all speed, and reached Beech
Bottom fort that night.
"The other Indian, at the first fire, ran a short distance
beyond Mrs. Glass, so that she was in a right line between
him and the white men; here he halted for a moment, to put
kill his wife with a tomahawk."
This artful manœuvre, no doubt, saved the life of the savage,
as his pursuers could not shoot at him, without risking the
life of the woman.
The above we have slightly altered from the account already
published, and think it is entirely correct as now given. Mrs.
Glass subsequently married a Mr. Brown, and was long a
resident of Brooke county.
The Monongahela settlements suffered somewhat severely
from savage visitation during most of this year. The tomahawk
and scalping knife found their victims in almost every
neighborhood.
"In August, five Indians on their way to the Monongahela,
met with two men on Middle Island creek, and killed them.
Taking their horses, they continued on until they came to the
house of William Johnson, on Ten-mile, and made prisoners
of Mrs. Johnson and some children, plundered the house,
killed part of the stock, and taking with them one of Johnson's
horses, returned towards the Ohio. When the Indians
came to the house, Johnson had gone to a lick not far off,
and on his return in the morning, seeing what had been done,
and searching until he found the trail of the savages and
their prisoners, ran to Clarksburg for assistance. A company
of men repaired with him to where he had discovered the
trail, and keeping it about a mile, found four of the children
lying dead in the woods. The savages had tomahawked and
scalped them, and placing their heads close together, turned
their bodies and feet out so as to represent a cross. The
dead were buried, and further pursuit given over."
In the same month, two lads were surprised and killed at
Neil's station, a small stockade which stood on the Kanawha,
about a mile back of the present town of Parkersburg. The
boys were twelve and fifteen, sons of a German who lived
to the station late in the evening, and returning, went out of
their path to hunt the cows. The savages had watched them
go down, and at a favorable moment fell upon them with
their tomahawks and killed both on the spot. Alarmed at
their delay, the parents made a search for them on the
following morning and found their bodies as described.
That night, the Indians attempted to burn the block-house
by means of straw and hay, which they thrust through the
port-holes; but in this they were foiled by the vigilance of
those within.
ROBERT CARPENTER.
A nephew of Joseph Tomlinson, named Robert Carpenter,
came near losing his life under the following circumstances.
He had gone out early in the morning for the horses, and
while hunting near Grave creek, was fired on by a party
of Indians who were concealed near the bank. The ball
took effect in his shoulder, breaking the bone, and inflicting
a severe wound. Thus disabled, the Indians soon overtook
and made him prisoner. Anxious to get possession of the
horses, but unable to catch them, the Indians concluded to
let Carpenter try it, as the animals knew him and would be
less difficult to capture.[44]
Accordingly, Carpenter was untied
and started in pursuit. Going about two hundred yards,
he determined to escape, and instead of catching the horses
ran towards the house of a friend. But his flight was so
greatly impeded by the old shoes which he wore, and his disabled
arm, that the savages soon overtook him. Another
utterly failing, Carpenter ventured to offer his services, declaring
that he would not again try to escape, but do his best
to catch the horses, and go along with them to their country.
Finding they could not get near the animals, they concluded
to trust Carpenter once more, threatening him with all
manner of horrid deaths if he attempted again to escape.
This time he adroitly drove the horses before him a considerable
distance, and then kicking off his shoes, and taking
a firm hold of his maimed limb, started on the race of life or
death. He safely escaped to the house of Nathan Master,
living on the farm now owned by Lewis D. Purdy, Esqr.
It was a matter of general remark, how much the horse of the settler
dreaded an Indian. Many a pioneer and hunter owed the preservation of
his life to the sagacity of his horse. The animal seemed to snuff the presence
of the savage in the air, and neither whip nor spur could urge him by the
dreaded spot.
MURDER OF THE GRICE FAMILY.
This occurrence, which should have gone with the preceding
chapter, was unavoidably omitted, but is now given as
possessing interest to the inhabitants in the region where
the tragedy took place.
Of the families gathered at Shepherd's fort[45]
was one by the
name of Grice. When it was determined to evacuate the
to return to their improvement, distant about two
miles from the forks. The family consisted of — Grice, his
wife and five children. When near the mouth of Peter's
run, a party of Indians, who had watched the movements at
the fort, fell upon them and murdered, or supposed they had,
all but one, whom they took prisoner. Rachel, a girl of
eleven years of age, was knocked down with a war-club and
her skull fractured, but she was not killed. Dr. Moore,
of Catfish, was called upon, and trepanned her. She recovered,
and afterwards married Captain Henry Jolly, a well
known citizen of Ohio. One of the victims was a married
daughter, who at the time was enceinte. The eldest son,
John, was made prisoner, who remained with them eleven
years, but at last got an opportunity, while in Kentucky, to
escape. The Indians who committed this depredation were
eleven in number. Rachel said, the man who scalped her had
blue eyes and light hair.
This fort was erected in 1775, by Colonel David Shepherd, at the forks
of Wheeling, upon the spot now occupied by the fine stone mansion of Mrs.
Cruger. It was almost an exact square, with block-houses at two of the
corners, so as to command the walls either way. Cabins were arranged
along the inner sides, and the place was perhaps one of the most complete
and safe in the west.
In consequence of the great loss of men at Wheeling, in September 1777,
and the death of Colonel Shepherd's son (William), and son-in-law, Francis
Duke, it was determined in the fall of that year, to abandon the place, and
send the families to Redstone. The fort was accordingly evacuated, September
27th, 1777, and soon after the Indians burned it to the ground.
In 1786, Colonel Shepherd deeming it safe to bring back his family,
rebuilt the fort, and in 1790 re-constructed it. This time it was built of
sycamore planks, three inches in thickness, and twelve feet long. They
were placed in morticed logs, one plank resting upon another. There were
bastions at the corners, and port-holes along this sides.
MURDER OF THE PURDY FAMILY.
One of the most bold and bloody murders perpetrated in
the neighborhood of Wheeling, during this year, was that on
the family of James Purdy, a worthy and industrious settler
on the hill just above Bedelion's mill. The family consisted
of Mr. and Mrs. Purdy and their four children.
The cabin in which they lived was unfinished; a blanket
supplying the place of a door. But this was not deemed
unsafe, as no Indians had appeared in the settlement for
some months. Shortly after dark, four Indians stepped into
the cabin, and without uttering a word commenced butchering
the defenceless family. Two of them fell upon Purdy, who
called to his wife for a knife, which she handed him; but he
was then too much exhausted from the repeated blows of the
tomahawk to use it, and the next moment after receiving it
a war club; one child was dashed against the door-way, and its
brains scattered over the room, while an interesting little
boy, who was screaming with fright, had both his fears and
his pains quieted by a blow from the tomahawk. The two
remaining children, daughters, were then made prisoners,
and after plundering the house, effected a hurried retreat
across the Ohio. The girls were released after ten years'
captivity. Mrs. Purdy was only stunned by the blow with
the war club, and falling near the door, crawled off and
secreted herself while the Indians were eating.
ATTACK UPON KIRKWOOD'S CABIN.
Early in the spring of this year, a large body of Indians
made an attack upon the settlement at the mouth of Indian
Wheeling creek, opposite Wheeling, Virginia. A block-house
was in course of erection, but not in a condition to be occupied;
the cabin of Captain Robert Kirkwood[46]
was used as a
place of resort for the neighborhood. On this occasion, Captain
Joseph Biggs, who commanded a company of scouts,
was in the cabin with fourteen of his men. About four
o'clock in the morning, Captain Biggs, feeling restless, arose
and went out into the air. Returning, he closed the door,
and what was unusual, rolled a barrel of pork against it, in
order to make it more secure. He had scarcely time to get
assault made upon the door by means of rails, logs, &c. The
besieged placed themselves under Captain Biggs, by whom
the defence was maintained in a manner highly creditable to
him as a brave and skilful officer. He ordered every particle
of light to be extinguished, and so stationed his men as to fire
upon the enemy from every direction. The night was clear
and beautiful; the moon being nearly full, gave those within
great advantage over the enemy, as they were enabled by the
light, to shoot the savages whenever they presented themselves.
Early in the engagement, Captain Biggs received a
serious wound, but with the courage of a true soldier concealed
the nature of it until day-light. In noticing the
movements of the enemy through one of the windows of the
cabin, an Indian, who had slipped close under the side of the
house, suddenly thrust his rifle through the window at which
Captain Biggs was standing, and discharging it, lodged the
ball in the left arm of the captain, just below the shoulder.
The bone was badly fractured, and parts of it afterwards
came away.
Foiled in their attempt to effect an entrance at the door,
(which had been well secured by puncheons from the floor,)
the savages determined to try the effect of fire; and accordingly
hurled burning fagots upon the roof, which, in a few
minutes, was enveloped in flames. But again they were unsuccessful,
for the whites pushed off the roof. The Indians now
became furious, and commenced piling brush against the sides
of the house, which they fired. At one time that noble little
band thought their fate was sealed, as the flames would often
mount to the top of the walls. With perseverance and caution,
however, they succeeded in subduing the fire, and finally
extinguishing it. This they did first with water, milk, and
such other liquids as could be commanded, and finally with
sand from beneath the cabin floor. Early in the attack,
the mortar was removed from the chinks of the wall, and the
savages having suffered severely from the steady aim of the
half-finished block-house.[47]
Shortly before day-break, the boom of a cannon was heard
echoing among the hills, which the besieged hailed as the
harbinger of help. The firing had been heard at Wheeling,
and the gun announced that assistance would soon be at
hand. The savages, too, understood it, and without delay
gathered up their wounded and disappeared in the forest. Five
of the whites were severely wounded, one mortally. These
were, Captain Joseph Biggs, John Walker, Elijah Hedges,
John Barrett, and Joseph Van Meter. Walker was shot
through the hip, severing the urethra, and causing his death
early next day. He was removed to the residence of Colonel
Zane, Wheeling, where he died, and was buried with military
honors. A coat belonging to some of the inmates, which had
been suspended by the centre-log, and was left hanging after
the roof had been thrown off, was found, on examination, to
be completely riddled with bullets. The number of Indians
was never fully ascertained, nor the extent of their killed
and wounded. They were supposed to have been the same
concerned in the engagement with Captain Van Buskirk's
company at the mouth of Brush run, an account of which is
elsewhere given.
It was our intention to have given a biographical sketch of Captain
Kirkwood in this volume; but the scantiness of material at command prevents
it. He was a brave and gallant soldier, and fought with considerable
distinction in the old Delaware line, throughout the war of the Revolution.
He is most honorably mentioned in Lee's Memoirs of the Southern Campaigns.
At Camden, Holkirk's, Eutah, and Ninety-Six, Captain Kirkwood
was in the thickest of the fight, and exhibited all the elements of a brave
and accomplished soldier. He fell in the disastrous defeat of St. Clair, in
November following the attack upon his house on Indian Wheeling.
This block-house stood nearly opposite the recently erected Methodist
church, in the town of Kirkwood.
FATAL DECOY.
One of the most common, and at the same time, most
successful decoys practised by the wily savage, was that
of the turkey call. The case we are about to record belongs
to that class.
Of those forted at Grave creek, was a William McIntosh,
wife and child. Early one morning, the cry of a turkey was
although warned against the deceptions of the enemy, started
over with his gun and dog. He landed his canoe at a point
nearly opposite the fort, and commenced ascending the bank.
Before taking ten steps, the "turkey," from his concealed
position, fired and shot his victim through the head.
McIntosh remaining much longer than was thought right,
some men from the fort went over on the third day, and there
found the unfortunate man scalped, with his faithful dog sitting
by his side.
SURPRISE OF A HUNTER'S CAMP.
On the 28th of January, (1791,) a hunting party, composed
of Joseph Biggs, James Boggs, (son of Captain Boggs,)
James and Alexander Mitchell, Thos. Barr, Thos. Richards,
Elijah Whittaker, Joshua Williamsom, (brother of Colonel
Williamson,) and some others whose names cannot be obtained,
crossed the Ohio from Short creek, on a hunt in the
Indian country. They went out as far as Stillwater, and
having killed considerable game were about returning. As
the party lay around their camp fire at night, a body of
Indians rose up from beneath the creek bank, and fired
directly into their midst. Boggs was shot through both hips
with a large musket ball; the rest of the party escaped
unhurt and eluded pursuit, but lost all their guns, blankets,
game, etc. The Indians scalped their unfortunate victim,—
almost denuding the entire skull, then stretched him out and
placed an old musket across his breast. His arms were
extended at full length, and frozen so firmly in that position,
that when the men went out from Wheeling to bury him,
they had to amputate the limbs to get him in a convenient
sized grave. The ground was so frozen that the men could
not bury the body at any great depth, and the result was, as
afterwards ascertained, that the bears scented out the spot
Mrs. Cruger, who was sister-in-law to Mr. Boggs. The
unfortunate man had, during the night previous to his horrible
death, what was called a "bad dream." It was that of a
swarm of black bees, some of which stung him. His companions
said he spoke frequently of the circumstance during
the day, and that he regarded it as a fatal presentiment.
One of the latest, and perhaps the very last Indian
murder committed on the river near Wheeling, was that of
Uriah McCutcheon, who was killed by a small party of
Indians near the present Harris' Ferry. According to B.
McMechen, Esq., from whom we have obtained this fact, the
unfortunate man was found shortly afterwards, tomahawked
and scalped.
DEATH OF THREE HUNTERS.
In the fall of this year, three young men, Thomas Swearengen,
son of Captain Van Swearengen, John L. Masters,
and a third whose name we have not been able to ascertain,
crossed the Ohio, and commenced hunting up the valley of
Short creek. The day was very fine, and as no Indian
depredations had been committed for some time in that
immediate neighborhood, the hunters believed they were
perfectly safe. But their hopes proved a vain delusion.
They had not gone far, when a party of Indians, doubtless
attracted by the report of the hunters' rifles, fired upon them,
killing Swearengen on the spot, and so wounding the others,
that they were easily overtaken and dispatched. The bodies
of all three were afterwards found and identified. The scene
of this disaster was some four or five miles back from the
river and creek. Some men from the Ohio side gave information
of the discovery of the bodies, and a party of Virginians
from the neighborhood of Beech bottom went over
just spoken of, frequently went from this side into the Indian
country, and they generally paid for their temerity. We
have already noticed two or three, and now have to speak of
another. Not long after the last mentioned occurrence, a
party of seven, from the neighborhood of West Liberty,
including one of the Biggs' and also one of the Hedges',
crossed the river, and after one day's hunt, were attacked by
a considerable body of Indians, and put to rout with the loss
of three of their number.
MASSACRE OF JOLLY'S FAMILY.
Among the earlier settlers in the neighborhood of Wheeling,
was Daniel Jolly. His improvement was on the hill, about
three miles from the mouth of the creek. The land is, we
believe, now occupied by Mr. McEnall, and the site of his
cabin is still pointed out not far from the road which crosses
the hill from the old toll-gate to the river. The family of
Jolly consisted of himself, wife and four children, with one
grand-child.
On the 8th day of June, a small party of Indians, who
had secreted themselves behind some gooseberry bushes in
the garden, fired upon the family, killing Mrs. Jolly instantly
and wounding a son, daughter and grand-son. Her eldest
son, John, had just reached the house from the corn-field,
and was in the act of wiping the perspiration from his brow
with the sleeve of his shirt as the ball struck him in the
mouth. He fell, badly wounded, and the next instant the
savages were tomahawking him. Killing and scalping the
other wounded ones, and taking prisoner one son and a
nephew of Mr. Jolly, named Joseph McCune, they pillaged,
then fired the house and made a rapid retreat. Joseph
McCune was killed after proceeding a short distance because
he could not travel fast, as he suffered from phthisic.
Mrs. Jolly was standing in the door at the moment she
was shot, looking in direction of the spring, to which she had
sent one of her children. The boy at the spring, whose name
was James, escaped, also another member of the family in
the field. A daughter, Mary, was absent at her uncle Joseph
McCune, who lived on the ridge road, about five miles from
the forks of Wheeling. Mr. Jolly had gone on a journey to
the Monongahela to receive a payment for some property
which he had sold previous to moving out.
The boy made prisoner remained in captivity seven years,
and was then regained by his brother at Pensacola. He was
discovered trading at Nashville; and on being questioned, the
facts of his captivity were elicited, whereupon a gentleman
wrote to Colonel Zane, who communicated the intelligence to
the boy's father. These particulars we have derived principally
from Mrs. Cruger, Mr. McIntyre, and Mr. Darby.
DEATH OF CAPTAIN VAN BUSKIRK.
Early in June[48]
of this year occurred the last conflict,
on the upper Ohio, between an organized party of Virginians
and Indians. In consequence of the numerous depredations
on the settlements now embraced in Brooke and Hancock
counties, it was determined to summarily chastise these
marauders; and accordingly, a party of men organized
under the command of Captain Lawson Van Buskirk, an
officer of tried courage and acknowledged efficiency. A party
of Indians had committed sundry acts of violence, and it was
believed they would endeavor to cross the Ohio on their retreat,
Van Buskirk, consisted of about forty experienced frontiermen,
some of whom were veteran Indian hunters. The number of
the enemy was known to be about thirty. The whites crossed
the river below the mouth of Cross creek, and marched up the
bottom, looking cautiously for the enemy's trail. They had
discovered it along the run, but missing it, they concluded
to take the ridge, hoping thus to cross it. Descending the
ridge, and just as they gained the river, the Indians fired
upon them, killing Captain Van Buskirk, and wounding John
Aidy. The enemy were concealed in a ravine amidst a dense
cluster of paw-paw bushes. The whites marched in single
file, headed by their captain, whose exposed situation will
account for the fact that he was wounded with thirteen
balls. The ambush quartered on their flank, and they were
totally unsuspicious of it. The plan of the Indians was to
permit the whites to advance in numbers along the line before
firing upon them. This was done; but instead of each selecting
his man, every gun was directed at the captain, who fell, with
thirteen bullet holes in his body. The whites and Indians
instantly tree'd, and the contest lasted more than an hour.
The Indians, however, were defeated, and retreated towards
the Muskingum, with the loss of several killed, while the
Virginians, with the exception of their captain, had none
killed and but three wounded.
Captain Van Buskirk's wife was killed just eleven months
previous to the death of her husband. They lived about three
miles from West Liberty. She had been taken prisoner by the
Indians, and on their march towards the river, her ancle was
sprained so that she could not walk without pain. Finding
her an incumbrance, the wretches put her to death on the hill,
just above where Wellsburg now stands. On the following day
the body of this unfortunate woman was found by a party who
had gone in pursuit.
The writer in Howe's Ohio, gives the occurrence as taking place in
August, but our information is reliable for placing it in June. The late Mrs.
Lear Shepherd, mother of Jeremiah Shepherd, Esq., of Marshall county, Va.,
and sister-in-law of Captain Van Buskirk, was one of the persons from whom
we derived much of the information now given.
| CHAPTER II. History of the early settlement and Indian wars of Western Virginia | |