University of Virginia Library

There was once an Indian town of the Shawnee tribe at the mouth of Old Town
creek, near Point Pleasant, on the land of Thomas Lewis, Esq., the clerk of the county.
It was deserted by them, it is supposed, about the year 1760. In ploughing there in
1798, about 80 gun-barrels were found. An anvil, a vice, hammers, and other blacksmith's

tools have been disinterred. Mr. Lewis, the county clerk, has opened several of
the small mounds which abound in this section, and found a gun-barrel, a camp kettle,
a butcher knife, tomahawk, a pewter basin, a variety of beads, and human skeletons.

To illustrate more clearly this desperate action, we present our readers with a plan of
the battle-ground, with explanatory
references, obtained by us
while at Point Pleasant, in the
autumn of 1843: a. A small pond
and ravine where the action commenced,
and where Col. Charles
Lewis was mortally wounded.
From this place, at right angles to
the Ohio, to Crooked creek, both
armies, early in the action, were
extended through the woods. After
a while the Indian line extended
further down on the creek. d.
Position of the fort built after the
battle. All the officers who fell in
the battle were buried at or near
this spot, in what is now known as
the Point Lot. b. The court-house.
c. Cornstalk's grave. He was originally
buried near the Kanawha; but a few years since his remains were disinterred,
and removed to their present resting-place.

Plan of the battle of Point Pleasant.

The subjoined account of this action, is from the work of Withers:

The army destined for this expedition was composed of volunteers and militia,
chiefly from the counties west of the Blue Ridge, and consisted of two divisions. The
northern division, comprehending the troops collected in Frederick, Dunmore, (now
Shenandoah,) and the adjacent counties, was to be commanded by Lord Dunmore in
person; and the southern, comprising the different companies raised in Botetourt, Augusta,
and the adjoining counties east of the Blue Ridge, was to be led on by Gen. Andrew
Lewis. These two divisions, proceeding by different routes, were to form a
junction at the mouth of the Big Kanawha, and from thence penetrate the country
northwest of the Ohio River, as far as the season would admit of their going, and destroy
all the Indian towns and villages which they could reach.

About the first of September, the troops placed under the command of Gen. Lewis
rendezvoused at Camp Union, (now Lewisburg,) and consisted of two regiments, commanded
by Col. William Fleming of Botetourt, and Col. Charles Lewis of Augusta, and
containing about four hundred men each. At Camp Union they were joined by an independent
volunteer company under Col. John Field of Culpeper, a company from
Bedford under Capt. Buford, and two from the Holstein settlement, (now Washington
county,) under Capts. Evan Shelby and Harbert. These three latter companies were
part of the forces to be led on by Col. Christian, who was likewise to join the two main
divisions of the army at Point Pleasant, so soon as the other companies of his regiment
could be assembled. The force under Gen. Lewis, having been thus augmented to
eleven hundred men, commenced its march for the mouth of Kanawha on the 11th of
September, 1774.

From Camp Union to the point proposed for the junction of the northern and southern
divisions of the army, a distance of one hundred and sixty miles, the intermediate
country was a trackless forest, so rugged and mountainous as to render the progress of
the army at once tedious and laborious. Under the guidance of Capt. Matthew Arbuckle,
they, however, succeeded in reaching the Ohio River, after a march of nineteen
days; and fixed their encampment on the point of land immediately between that river
and the Big Kanawha. The provisions and ammunition, transported on pack-horses,
and the beeves in droves, arrived soon after.

When the southern division arrived at Point Pleasant, Governor Dunmore, with the
forces under his command, had not reached there; and unable to account for his failure
to form the preconcerted junction at that place, it was deemed advisable to await that
event; as by so doing a better opportunity would be afforded to Col. Christian of coming
up with that portion of the army which was then with him. Meanwhile Gen.
Lewis, to learn the cause of the delay of the northern division, dispatched runners by
land in the direction of Fort Pitt, to obtain tidings of Lord Dunmore, and to communicate
them to him immediately. In their absence, however, advices were received
from his lordship, that he had determined on proceeding across the country, directly to
the Shawnee towns; and ordering Gen. Lewis to cross the river, march forward, and
form a junction with him near to them. These advices were received on the 9th of
October, and preparations were immediately begun to be made for the transportation of
the troops over the Ohio River.

Early on the morning of Monday, the tenth of that month, two soldiers left the
camp, and proceeded up the Ohio River, in quest of deer. When they had progressed
about two miles, they unexpectedly came in sight of a large number of Indians rising
from their encampment, and who, discovering the two hunters, fired upon them and
killed one; the other escaped unhurt, and running briskly to the camp, communicated
the intelligence, "that he had seen a body of the enemy, covering four acres of ground,
as closely as they could stand by the side of each other." The main part of the army
was immediately ordered out under Cols. Charles Lewis,[1]
and William Fleming; and
having formed into two lines, they proceeded about four hundred yards, when they met
the Indians, and the action commenced.

At the first onset, Col. Charles Lewis having fallen, and Col. Fleming being wounded,
both lines gave way and were retreating briskly towards the camp, when they were met
by a reinforcement under Col. Field,[2] and rallied. The engagement then became general,
and was sustained with the most obstinate fury on both sides. The Indians perceiving
the "tug of war" had come, and determined on affording the colonial army no
chance of escape, if victory should declare for them, formed a line extending across the
point, from the Ohio to the Kanawha, and protected in front by logs and fallen timber.
In this situation they maintained the contest with unabated vigor, from sunrise till towards
the close of evening; bravely and successfully resisting every charge which was
made on them; and withstanding the impetuosity of every onset, with the most invincible
firmness, until a fortunate movement on the part of the Virginia troops decided
the day.

Some short distance above the entrance of the Kanawha River into the Ohio, there is
a stream called Crooked creek, emptying into the former of these, from the northeast,
whose banks are tolerably high, and were then covered with a thick and luxuriant
growth of weeds. Seeing the impracticability of dislodging the Indians by the most
vigorous attack, and sensible of the great danger which must arise to his army, if the
contest were not decided before night, Gen. Lewis detached the three companies which
were commanded by Capts. Isaac Shelby, George Matthews, and John Stuart, with orders
to proceed up the Kanawha River and Crooked creek, under cover of the banks
and weeds, till they should pass some distance beyond the enemy; when they were to
emerge from their covert, march downward towards the point, and attack the Indians
in their rear. The manœuvre thus planned was promptly executed, and gave a decided
victory to the colonial army. The Indians finding themselves suddenly and unexpectedly
encompassed between two armies, and not doubting but that in their rear was the
looked-for reinforcement under Col. Christian, soon gave way, and about sundown commenced
a precipitate retreat across the Ohio, to their towns on the Scioto. The victory,
indeed, was decisive, and many advantages were obtained by it; but they were not
cheaply bought. The Virginia army sustained in this engagement a loss of seventy-five

killed, and one hundred and forty wounded—about one-fifth of the entire number of
the troops.

Among the slain were Cols. Lewis and Field; Capts. Buford, Morrow, Wood, Cundiff,
Wilson, and Robert McClannahan; and Lieuts. Allen, Goldsby, and Dillon, with some
other subalterns. The loss of the enemy could not be ascertained. On the morning
after the action, Col. Christian, who had arrived after the battle was ended, marched
his men over the battle-ground, and found twenty-one of the Indians lying dead; and
twelve others were afterwards discovered, where they had been attempted to be concealed
under some old logs and brush.

From the great facility with which the Indians either carry off or conceal their dead,
it is always difficult to ascertain the number of their slain; and hence arises, in some
measure, the disparity between their known loss and that sustained by their opponents
in battle. Other reasons for this disparity are to be found in their peculiar mode of warfare,
and in the fact that they rarely continue a contest, when it has to be maintained
with the loss of their warriors. It would not be easy otherwise to account for the circumstance,
that even when signally vanquished, the list of their slain does not, frequently,
appear more than half as great as that of the victors. In this particular
instance, many of the dead were certainly thrown into the river.

Nor could the number of the enemy engaged be ever ascertained. Their army is
known to have been composed of warriors from the different nations north of the Ohio,
and to have comprised the flower of the Shawanee, Delaware, Mingo, Wyandotte, and
Cayuga tribes; led on by men whose names were not unknown to fame,[3] and at the
head of whom was Cornstalk, sachem of the Shawanees, and king of the northern confederacy.

This distinguished chief and consummate warrior, proved himself on that day to be
justly entitled to the prominent station which he occupied. His plan of alternate retreat
and attack was well conceived, and occasioned the principal loss sustained by the
whites. If at any time his warriors were believed to waver, his voice could be heard
above the din of arms, exclaiming, in his native tongue: "Be strong! be strong!" and
when one near him, by trepidation and reluctance to proceed to the charge, evinced a
dastardly disposition, fearing the example might have a pernicious influence, with one
blow of his tomahawk he severed his skull. It was, perhaps, a solitary instance in
which terror predominated. Never did men exhibit a more conclusive evidence of
bravery in making a charge, and fortitude in withstanding an onset, than did these undisciplined
soldiers of the forest in the field at Point Pleasant. Such, too, was the good
conduct of those who composed the army of Virginia on that occasion, and such the
noble bravery of many, that high expectations were entertained of their future distinction.
Nor were those expectations disappointed. In the various scenes through which
they subsequently passed, the pledge of after eminence then given was fully redeemed:
and the names of Shelby, Campbell, Matthews, Fleming, Moore, and others, their compatriots
in arms on the memorable tenth of October, 1774, have been inscribed in brilliant
characters on the roll of fame.[4]

Having buried the dead, and made every arrangement which their situation admitted,
for the comfort of the wounded, intrenchments were thrown up, and the army
commenced its march to form a junction with the northern division, under Lord Dunmore.
Proceeding by the way of the Salt Licks, Gen. Lewis pressed forward with astonishing
rapidity, (considering that the march was through a trackless desert;) but
before he had gone far, an express arrived from Dunmore with orders to return immediately
to the mouth of the Big Kanawha. Suspecting the integrity of his lordship's
motives, and urged by the advice of his officers generally, Gen. Lewis refused to obey

these orders, and continued to advance till he was met (at Kilkenny Creek, and in
sight of an Indian village, which its inhabitants had just fired and deserted) by the
governor, (accompanied by White Eyes,) who informed him that he was negotiating a
treaty of peace, which would supersede the necessity of the further movement of the
southern division, and repeating the order for its retreat.

The army under Gen. Lewis had endured many privations and suffered many hardships.
They had encountered a savage enemy in great force, and purchased a victory
with the blood of their friends. When arrived near to the goal of their anxious wishes,
and with nothing to prevent the accomplishment of the object of the campaign, they
received those orders with evident chagrin, and did not obey them without murmuring.
Having, at his own request, been introduced severally to the officers of that division,
complimenting them for their gallantry and good conduct in the late engagement, and
assuring them of his high esteem, Lord Dunmore returned to his camp; and Gen.
Lewis commenced his retreat.

This battle (says Col. Stuart, in his historical memoir) was, in fact, the beginning of
the revolutionary war, that obtained for our country the liberty and independence enjoyed
by the United States—and a good presage of future success; for it is well known that
the Indians were influenced by the British to commence the war to terrify and confound
the people, before they commenced hostilities themselves the following year at Lexington.
It was thought by British politicians, that to excite an "Indian war would prevent
a combination of the colonies for opposing parliamentary measures to tax the
Americans." The blood, therefore, spilt upon this memorable battle, will long be remembered
by the good people of Virginia and the United States with gratitude.

In the year 1777, the Indians, being urged by British agents, became very troublesome
to frontier settlements, manifesting much appearance of hostilities, when the
Cornstalk warrior, with the Redhawk, paid a visit to the garrison at Point Pleasant.
He made no secret of the disposition of the Indians; declaring that, on his own part,
he was opposed to joining in the war on the side of the British, but that all the nation,
except himself and his own tribe, were determined to engage in it; and that, of course,
he and his tribe would have to run with the stream, (as he expressed it.) On this Captain
Arbuckle thought proper to detain him, the Redhawk, and another fellow, as hostages,
to prevent the nation from joining the British.

In the course of that summer our government had ordered an army to be raised, of
volunteers, to serve under the command of General Hand; who was to have collected a
number of troops at Fort Pitt, with them to descend the river to Point Pleasant, there
to meet a reinforcement of volunteers expected to be raised in Augusta and Botetourt
counties, and then proceed to the Shawanee towns and chastise them so as to compel
them to a neutrality. Hand did not succeed in the collection of troops at Fort Pitt;
and but three or four companies were raised in Augusta and Botetourt, which were under
the command of Colonel George Skillern, who ordered me to use my endeavors to raise
all the volunteers I could get in Greenbrier, for that service. The people had begun to
see the difficulties attendant on a state of war and long campaigns carried through wildernesses,
and but a few were willing to engage in such service. But as the settlements
which we covered, though less exposed to the depredations of the Indians, had showed
their willingness to aid in the proposed plan to chastise the Indians, and had raised
three companies, I was very desirous of doing all I could to promote the business and
aid the service. I used the utmost endeavors, and proposed to the militia officers to
volunteer ourselves, which would be an encouragement to others, and by such means to
raise all the men who could be got. The chief of the officers in Greenbrier agreed to
the proposal, and we cast lots who should command the company. The lot fell on Andrew

Hamilton for captain, and William Renick lieutenant. We collected in all, about
forty, and joined Colonel Skillern's party, on their way to Point Pleasant.

When we arrived, there was no account of General Hand or his army, and little or
no provision made to support our troops, other than what we had taken with us down
the Kanawha. We found, too, that the garrison was unable to spare us any supplies,
having nearly exhausted, when we got there, what had been provided for themselves.
But we concluded to wait there as long as we could for the arrival of General Hand, or
some account from him. During the time of our stay two young men, of the names of
Hamilton and Gilmore, went over the Kanawha one day to hunt for deer; on their return
to camp, some Indians had concealed themselves on the bank among the weeds, to
view our encampment; and as Gilmore came along past them, they fired on him and
killed him on the bank.

Captain Arbuckle and myself were standing on the opposite bank when the gun fired;
and while we were wondering who it could be shooting, contrary to orders, or what they
were doing over the river, we saw Hamilton run down the bank, who called out that Gilmore
was killed. Gilmore was one of the company of Captain John Hall, of that part
of the country now Rockbridge county. The captain was a relation of Gilmore's,
whose family and friends were chiefly cut off by the Indians in the year 1763, when
Greenbrier was cut off. Hall's men instantly jumped into a canoe and went to the relief
of Hamilton, who was standing in momentary expectation of being put to death.
They brought the corpse of Gilmore down the bank, covered with blood and scalped, and
put him into the canoe. As they were passing the river, I observed to Captain Arbuckle
that the people would be for killing the hostages, as soon as the canoe would land.
He supposed that they would not offer to commit so great a violence upon the innocent,
who were in nowise accessary to the murder of Gilmore. But the canoe had scarcely
touched the shore until the cry was raised, Let us kill the Indians in the fort; and every
man, with his gun in his hand, came up the bank pale with rage. Captain Hall was at
their head, and leader. Captain Arbuckle and I met them, and endeavored to dissuade
them from so unjustifiable an action; but they cocked their guns, threatened us with
instant death if we did not desist, rushed by us into the fort, and put the Indians to death.

On the preceding day, the Cornstalk's son, Elinipsico, had come from the nation to
see his father, and to know if he was well, or alive. When he came to the river opposite
the fort, he hallooed. His father was at that instant in the act of delineating a
map of the country and the waters between the Shawanee towns and the Mississippi, at
our request, with chalk upon the floor. He immediately recognised the voice of his son,
got up, went out, and answered him. The young fellow crossed over, and they embraced
each other in the most tender and affectionate manner. The interpreter's wife, who had
been a prisoner among the Indians, and had recently left them, on hearing the uproar the
next day, and hearing the men threatening that they would kill the Indians, for whom
she retained much affection, ran to their cabin and informed them that the people were
just coming to kill them; and that, because the Indians who killed Gilmore had come
with Elinipsico the day before. He utterly denied it; declared that he knew nothing
of them, and trembled exceedingly. His father encouraged him not to be afraid, for
that the Great Man above had sent him there to be killed and die with him. As the men
advanced to the door, the Cornstalk rose up and met them; they fired upon him, and
seven or eight bullets went through him. So fell the great Cornstalk warrior,—whose
name was bestowed upon him by the consent of the nation, as their great strength and
support. His son was shot dead as he sat upon a stool. The Redhawk made an attempt
to go up the chimney, but was shot down. The other Indian was shamefully
mangled, and I grieved to see him so long in the agonies of death.

The Cornstalk, from personal appearance and many brave acts, was undoubtedly a
hero. Had he been spared to live, I believe he would have been friendly to the American
cause; for nothing could induce him to make the visit to the garrison at the critical
time he did, but to communicate to them the temper and disposition of the Indians, and
their design of taking part with the British. On the day he was killed we held a council,
at which he was present. His countenance was dejected; and he made a speech,
all of which seemed to indicate an honest and manly disposition. He acknowledged
that he expected that he and his party would have to run with the stream, for that all
the Indians on the lakes and northwardly, were joining the British. He said that when
he returned to the Shawanee towns after the battle at the Point, he called a council of
the nation to consult what was to be done, and upbraided them for their folly in not suffering
him to make peace on the evening before the battle. "What," said he, "will
you do now? The Big Knife is coming on us, and we shall all be killed. Now you

must fight, or we are undone." But no one made an answer. He said, "then let us kill
all our women and children, and go and fight till we die." But none would answer. At
length he rose and struck his tomahawk in the post in the centre of the town-house:
"I'll go," said he, "and make peace;" and then the warriors all grunted out, "ough,
ough, ough," and runners were instantly dispatched to the governor's army to solicit a
peace, and the interposition of the governor on their behalf.

When he made his speech in council with us, he seemed to be impressed with an awful
premonition of his approaching fate; for he repeatedly said, "When I was a young
man and went to war, I thought that might be the last time, and I would return no
more. Now I am here among you; you may kill me if you please; I can die but
once; and it is all one to me, now or another time." This declaration concluded every
sentence of his speech. He was killed about one hour after our council.

Battle of Point Pleasant.—During the action, those troops from the more eastern
part of the state, unaccustomed to fighting with the Indians, were all the day engaged
in making a breastwork at the junction of the Kanawha with the Ohio, so that the army,
if defeated, should have a secure retreat. Ignorant of how the action would terminate,
they worked as if for their lives, and before the day was finished had a strong fortification
erected. When the alarm was given that the Indians were near, Gen. Lewis deliberately
lighted his pipe, and then coolly gave the orders to his brother, Col. Chas. Lewis,
to advance upon them. The soldiers in Col. Fleming's regiment used a stratagem that
proved very effectual. They concealed themselves behind trees, and then held out their
hats, which the Indians mistakingly shot at. The hat being at once dropped, the Indian
would run out from his covert to scalp his victim, and thus met a sure death from
the tomahawk of his adversary. The whites in this action being all backwoodsmen,
were more successful marksmen than the savages; a fact in part owing to the want of
the mechanical skill in the Indians, requisite to keeping their rifles in order. At the
close of the action, the Indians went off hallooing, as if coming on to renew the attack.
This stratagem deceived the whites, and enabled them to retreat in more safety. They
recrossed the Ohio on rafts, three miles above, near the old Shawanee town.

Fort at Point Pleasant.—A fort was erected at Point Pleasant just after the battle, at
the mouth of the Kanawha. It was a rectangular stockade, about eighty yards long,
with blockhouses at two of its corners. It was finally destroyed, and a smaller one
erected about fifty rods further up the Ohio, on the site of the store of James Capehart.
It was composed of a circle of cabins, in which the settlers lived.

Eulen's Leap.—In the spring of '88 or '89, Ben Eulen, who was then insane, was out
hunting in the woods below Point Pleasant, when he was discovered and pursued by an
Indian. He threw away his rifle, an elegant silver-mounted piece, to arrest the attention
of the Indian, and gain time. The Indian stopped to pick it up. Eulen unexpectedly
came to a precipice, and fell head foremost through a buckeye, struck a branch,
which turned him over, and he came upon his feet. The fall was fifty-three feet perpendicular.
He then leaped another precipice of twelve feet in height, and escaped.

Anecdotes of the Van Bebbers.—A few years after the close of the revolution, a
daughter of Capt. John Van Bebber, named Rhoda, aged 17, and Joseph Van Bebber, a
young lad of 13, a brother of our informant, had crossed over in a canoe one morning,
to the west side of the Ohio, opposite Point Pleasant, on an errand to Rhoda's father,
then living temporarily in a house that side of the stream, when a party of Indians suddenly
made their appearance. Dave, a black man belonging to Capt. Van Bebber, gave
the alarm, and rushed into the house. The Indians attacked the house, but were driven
off by Dave and Capt. Van Bebber, with the loss of two or three of their number. Joseph
and Rhoda, in their terror, hastened to the canoe, whither the Indians pursued them,
killed and scalped the young lady, and took Joseph a prisoner to Detroit. Rhoda's scalp
the Indians divided into two, and sold them to the Indian traders at Detroit for $30

each; their object in purchasing them was to encourage the savages in their incursions,
so as to prevent a settlement of the country by the whites, and thus monopolize the Indian
trade. Joseph afterwards stated that the barrel in which the scalps were put was
nearly full of the horrid trophies. He remained with the Indians two years, during
which he learned their language, and acted as interpreter between them and the traders.
He at length made his escape, and lived with a trader until after Wayne's victory, when
he returned home. While at Detroit, he became acquainted with the notorious Simon
Girty, then a British pensioner for services in the revolution. He said Girty was an affable
man, but extremely intemperate. Girty denied to him that he was the instigator
of the death of Col. Crawford; but that he went so far to save him that his own life
was in danger.

In the fall of '88 or '89, Matthias Van Bebber, aged 18, and Jacob, aged 12 years,
were out a short distance from Point Pleasant, with a horse, when they were waylaid
by four Indians. Jacob was leading the horse, and Matthias was a short distance ahead,
with a rifle across his shoulder, when the Indians fired two guns at Matthias. One of
the balls struck him over the eyes, and rendered him momentarily blind; he sprang one
side, and fell into a gully. The boy Jacob, on hearing the report of the guns, fled, and
three of the Indians went in pursuit. Matthias, in the mean time, sprang up and took
to a tree. The remaining Indian did the same. Matthias brought up his gun to an aim,
the Indian dodged, and the former took the opportunity and escaped into the fort. The
Indians, after a tight chase of half a mile, caught the lad, who, being very active,
would have escaped had his moccasins not been too large. The Indians retreated across
the Ohio with their prisoner. He was a sprightly little fellow, small of his age, and the
Indians, pleased with him, treated him kindly. On the first night of their encampment,
they took him on their knees, and sang to him. He turned away his head to conceal
his tears. On arriving at their town, while running the gauntlet between the children
of the place, one Indian boy, much larger than himself, threw a bone, which struck him
on the head. Enraged by the pain, Jacob drew back, and running with all his force,
butted him over, much to the amusement of the Indian warriors. He was adopted into
an Indian family, where he was used with kindness. On one occasion his adopted father
whipped him, though slightly, which affected his Indian mother and sister to tears. After
remaining with the Indians about a year, he escaped, and for five days travelled
through the wilderness to his home. When he had arrived at maturity, he was remarkable
for his fleetness. None of the Indians who visited the Point could ever equal him
in that respect.

Indian incursion.—In May, 1791, a party of eighteen whites were attacked by about
thirty Indians, about one mile north of the fort at Point Pleasant, near the field now belonging
to David Long. The whites were defeated. Michael See and Robert Sinclair
were killed. Hampton and Thomas Northrop, and a black boy, belonging to See, were
taken prisoners. This boy was a son of Dick Pointer, who acted so bravely a few years
before at the attack on Donnally's fort, in Greenbrier. He became an Indian chief, and
in the late war with Great Britain took part with the friendly Indians against the
enemy.