University of Virginia Library

1794.

THE TUSH MURDER.

The valley of Wheeling creek, one of the most beautiful
and productive in the state, was the theatre of many a painful
and bloody drama. Scarcely a quiet bend, or a surrounding
hill, or a rippling tributary, that is not memorable as connected
with the wars of the Indians. To one unacquainted with its
tragic history, it would indeed be difficult to imagine that
these clear waters were once tinged with the blood of helpless
women and children, and these stern old hills ever echoed to
the terrible whoop of the savage. Such, however, is the
melancholy fact, as our pages abundantly attest. The case
which we are about to detail was, perhaps, the most dreadful
that occurred in the settlement of the valley.

Of those who settled at an early day in this region, was
George Tush. His residence was about twelve miles from the
river, on the farm now owned by Mr. Albert Davis. The
family consisted of himself, wife, and five children. During
the spring and summer of 1794, the settlements on Wheeling
creek had been almost entirely exempt from Indian visitation,
and many of the inhabitants began to console themselves with
the reflection, that day was about to dawn upon their long
night of terror. But, alas, their fondly imagined security was
soon to be dispelled. On the evening of Saturday, September
6th, (1794,) as George Tush was in the act of feeding his hogs,
in a sty close to his cabin, he was fired upon by three savages,
who had concealed themselves, and waited until he should
leave the house. A ball struck him transversely upon the
breast, cutting a deep gash, and inflicting a serious and painful
wound, as it carried off a portion of the bone. It lodged in
the shoulder blade. Tush, losing entirely his presence of
mind, or, in all charitableness, we may allow that his pain

deprived him of self-control, rushed madly by his own door,
in direction of the forest, leaving his helpless family to the
mercy of relentless savages. The next moment the Indians
were in the house. The mother was instantly made prisoner,
and in powerless but quivering agony, compelled to witness
the horrid butchery of her innocent children. In an instant
the youngest born was dashed against a tree, and the other
four fell beneath the reeking tomahawk. Pillaging the house
of such articles as they could carry off, a hurried retreat
was made, lest the escaped husband should follow in pursuit.
The feeble woman was brutally urged on before them. But,
alas, the scenes which she had just witnessed, together with
her own situation, rendered her movements both slow and painful.
Fearing discovery, the wretches tomahawked their helpless
victim, and left her at a point about eight miles from the
place of captivity. Her remains were found some years
afterwards by her husband, while hunting. He recognized
them by the bones of an infant with which she was at the
time largely enceinte.

Of the children tomahawked and scalped, one, a little girl
of four years, recovered, and the infant, whose brains were
supposed to have been dashed out, was found alive on the
following day, lying upon its dead sisters and brothers.
That child still lives, and is the wife of George Goodrich,
residing near Shelbyville, Ia. The children had, a few days
before, gathered a quantity of acorns, which, it is supposed,
prevented the hogs disturbing the remains.

Tush, in his fright, ran some distance, and jumped from a
ledge of rocks fifteen feet in height. This so disabled him
that he could not get to Jacob Wetzel's house, which was
just across the creek, until late at night. He was taken to
Wheeling a day or two after, and there remained until his
wound was healed. (See letter of Mr. Darby, in a Note at
the end of present chapter, for some interesting facts connected
with this case.)

DEATH OF TWO BROTHERS.

Late in the fall of 1794, two brothers, named John and
Joseph Scott, accompanied by a man named Thomas Manning,
started on a hunting expedition to Stillwater. They believed
the season so far advanced that no danger need be apprehended
from Indians. The three men traversed the country
lying between Wheeling and Stillwater without molestation,
or indication of Indians. On the first night of their arrival
out, they kindled a fire, and after supper prepared for rest.
Manning, who was an experienced hunter, attempted to dissuade
the Scotts from remaining near the fire. They, however,
disregarded the advice, and laughed at his fears. But
Manning declared he would not sleep there, and accordingly
moved off a short distance. Scarcely had he changed his
position, when a party of Indians opened a fire upon them,
killing the brothers instantly, and wounding Manning severely,
by breaking his left arm. Reserving his fire, the Indians
did not rush upon him, and supposing he was mortally wounded,
ran upon the Scotts, and plied the tomahawk, that the
work of death might be complete. Manning escaped, and
made his way to Wheeling. Immediately a party of whites
went out and buried the unfortunate brothers. The savages
had singularly maimed one of the ill-fated men.

The Scotts were active and industrious men, good hunters,
and much respected by all who knew them. Joseph married
Debby Hardesty. He lived on the point where the warehouse
of Anderson & Pancoast now stands, in Bridgeport. John
lived on the island.

BLOODY EXPLOIT.

Jonathan Zane was perhaps one of the best shots in the
west. He prided himself particularly upon his skill in this
respect. The following incident shows that he was not only
a good shot, but a dead shot. We derive the facts from Mr.
Reuben Miller, of Bridgeport, Ohio, long a personal friend of
Mr. Zane.

About the year 1808, the two (Miller and Zane) were
walking near where Phillips' foundry now stands, in Wheeling,
when Zane remarked, "About here, I once killed five
Indians. I was returning home from hunting my horses,
and in passing through the high weeds which at that time
grew all around, I saw five Indians jump into the river, and
swim for the island. I fired, and one of them sunk. Loading
and firing three times in quick succession, three others
were killed before reaching the opposite bank." The fifth
and last, seeing the fate of his companions, concealed himself
behind a sawyer, near the island shore, hoping thus to escape
the deadly aim of the white man. After several ineffectual
attempts to dislodge him, the effort was about to be given
over, when Zane noticed a portion of his abdomen protruding
below the log. Drawing a fine aim on the exposed part, he
fired, and the savage rolled into the stream.

ATTACK ON MR. ARMSTRONG.

A Mr. Armstrong, one of the early settlers at Belpre,
having secured some land on the Virginia side, built a mill
and cabin near the head of Blannerhasset's Island, and in the
spring of 1794 moved over his family, consisting of his wife
and five children. Shortly after their change of residence, a
party of Indians concealed themselves on the river hill immediately

back of Armstrong's house, and in full view of the
stockade at Belpre. At early dawn, Mr. Armstrong heard
that so often fatal decoy, the turkey-call, and taking his dog
and gun, sallied forth to secure a shot before they should leave
the roost. One of the sons, taken prisoner, and now living
near Columbus, Ohio, relates what followed. "After proceeding
a short distance, either from the dog, or some other
circumstance, Armstrong became alarmed, retreated to the
house and barred the door. The Indians pursued, and endeavored
to get it open, but failing on the first attempt, they
took a rail to effect their purpose. While they were endeavoring
to gain entrance, Mr. Armstrong snapped his gun, in an
attempt to shoot, but it did not go off; he then ascended
the loft, and removing some of the roof, escaped through the
opening, while the Indians were breaking down the door.
The alarm was given to the stockade in upper Belpre, and
a party went over. They met Mr. Armstrong and the two
eldest sons, who had been in the mill. Mrs. Armstrong they
found dead on the outside of the cabin. It appeared as if she
had attempted to escape from the roof, as her husband did;
but being a heavy woman, had probably fallen and broken her
leg. Two children were dead, and a little girl still alive, but
insensible, though when disturbed, she would say, `What's
that?' Mrs. Armstrong and two children were scalped; one
child about two years of age was not. Two sons who were
in the cabin were taken prisoners, and carried to their towns,
where they remained until the close of the war, when their
elder brothers brought them from the Indian country."

Between the years 1784 and 1793, several murders were
committed along the river below Grave creek; the exact dates
of some of these we have not been able to ascertain, but will
nevertheless give a brief notice of the occurrences. Adam

Roe and family, who had been forted at Tomlinson's, considering
it safe to return to their improvement, and becoming
very tired of fort life, determined to start for the mouth of
Fishing creek, and were all killed ten miles below.

Proctor was an early settler near the mouth of a stream
now known as Proctor's run. Finding the Indians becoming
troublesome, he proposed to remove his family to Wheeling,
but the savages were likely to intercept him, and he was compelled
to look for some other place. A few miles up the run is a
remarkable rock, presenting a concealed entrance, but opening
out into a fine large chamber, perfectly dry, and spacious
enough to contain thirty or forty persons. Into this Proctor
moved with his family, and for some time succeeded in eluding
the wily savages. He however, continued imprudently
to venture out, and the Indians discovering his tracks, stationed
a spy to ascertain his place of abode. This once done,
they made an attack, killing the occupant with two of his
children. Mrs. Proctor having a child in her arms, elicited
the sympathy of an old Indian who stood by, and declared
that she should not be killed. She was then made prisoner,
but succeeded that night in eluding their vigilance, and
making her escape. She reached Wheeling the next day in
safety.