University of Virginia Library

COLONEL WILLIAM CRAWFORD.

The fate of this unfortunate officer has excited, and will
continue to excite, so long as the history of the west shall be
read, the most painful interest and the liveliest sympathy.
We do not propose at this time to give a lengthy sketch of
his life and services, but simply to notice a few points in his
personal history.

Col. Crawford was a native of Berkeley county, Virginia.
He was born in 1732—a year memorable as giving birth to
Washington and Marion. He early gave promise of much
talent and energy of character. At the age of twenty-six,
he raised a company, and joined Washington's regiment in
the expedition of Gen. Forbes against Fort DuQuesne. His
fine military bearing at that time attracted the attention and
commanded the esteem of Washington. On the breaking out
of the Revolution, by his own indomitable energy, he enrolled
a regiment, and received, in consideration of his great personal
effort, a colonel's commission in the Colonial army.

His first visit to the west was in 1767, and two years after,
he removed his family. The place selected for his home was
on the Youghiogheny river, where the town of Connellsville,
Fayette county, Pennsylvania, now stands. His house
was one of the first in the valley of the Youghiogheny, and
it was always open to those who thought proper to give him a
call. His hospitality, generosity, and uniform kindness were
subjects of general remark. Of those who early shared the
hospitalities of his roof, was Washington. We find by his
journal of a tour to the west in 1770, frequent reference to
Col. Crawford, who proved one of his most devoted friends.

He seems to have enjoyed himself finely, and passed the time
most pleasantly. A sister of the gallant colonel commanded
not a little of the distinguished guest's attention, and were we
disposed, now that Time has flung his many colored veil over
all, could call upon Fancy with her pallette and brush, and
paint a scene in that western cabin, but our limits forbid.

During this visit of Washington, he remained several days,
and then, accompanied by Col. Crawford, proceeded to Fort
Pitt, thence in company with others to the Great Kanawha,
and after a pretty thorough exploration, returned to the Youghiogheny.
Most of the lands belonging to Washington in
the west were located by Col. Crawford. We have frequently
heard the old surveyors along the Ohio say that they often
met with his "corners." Some of the earliest surveys within
the present limits of Brooke, Ohio, and Marshall counties,
Virginia, were made by Colonel C.[10] We sincerely regret the
scarcity of material for a suitable memoir of this meritorious,
but most unfortunate officer. His papers and records were
never preserved; his family became scattered; "most of his
contemporaries have followed him to the land of spirits, and
very little else than a few brief stories remain to tell of his
virtues and his fame." Passing over many of his years of
usefulness to the west, we come to the fearful catastrophe.
Colonel Crawford had frequently led expeditions against the
Indians, but on the occasion of which we are about to speak,
he, at first, absolutely declined to go. It seemed as though
he had a presentiment of the fate which was to befall him. At
length, however, he yielded to the importunities of his friends,
and accompanied the men to the place of rendezvous. It is even
asserted that after his selection as commander, he was reluctant

to accept. Having noticed elsewhere the progress of the
army, and its disastrous defeat, it now alone remains to finish
the sad story by giving the particulars of the terrible death
of its commanding officer. As these have been most faithtully
narrated by Dr. Knight, the fellow-prisoner of Colonel
Crawford, and an eye-witness to the whole terrible scene, we
will follow his account. A retreat having been determined
on, the whole army moved off in the silence of the night,
hoping thereby to avoid pursuit. But the ever vigilant
enemy noticed the movement, and instantly pursuit was
given.

"We had not got a quarter of a mile from the field of action,
when I heard Col. Crawford calling for his son John, his son-in-law
Major Harrison, Major Rose and William Crawford,
his nephews, upon which I came up and told him I believed
they were before us. He asked, `Is that the doctor?' I told
him it was. He then replied, that they were not in front, and
begged of me not to leave him; I promised him I would not.

"We then waited, and continued calling for these men
till the troops had passed us. The colonel told me his horse
had almost given out, that he could not keep up with the
troops, and wished some of his best friends to remain with
him: he then exclaimed against the militia for riding off in
such an irregular manner, and leaving some of the wounded
behind, contrary to his orders. Presently there came two
men riding after us, one of them an old man, the other a lad.
We inquired if they had seen any of the above persons, and
they answered they had not.

"By this time there was a very hot firing before us, and, as
we judged, near where our main body must have been. Our
course was then nearly south-west, but changing it, we went
north about two miles, the two men remaining in company
with us. Judging ourselves to be now out of the enemy's
lines, we took a due east course, taking care to keep at the
distance of fifteen or twenty yards apart, and directing ourselves
by the north star.

"About day-break Col. Crawford's and the young man's

horses gave out, and they left them. We pursued our journey
eastward, and about two o'clock fell in with Capt. Biggs,
who had carried Lieut. Ashly from the field of action, who had
been dangerously wounded. We then went on about the
space of an hour, when a heavy rain coming up, we concluded
it was best to encamp, as we were encumbered with the
wounded officer. We then barked four or five trees, made
an encampment and a fire, and remained there all night.
Next morning we again prosecuted our journey, and having
gone about three miles found a deer which had been recently
killed. The meat was sliced from the bones and bundled up
in the skin with a tomahawk lying by it. We carried all with
us, and in advancing about one mile further, espied the smoke
of a fire. We then gave the wounded officer into the charge
of the young man, desiring him to stay behind, whilst the
colonel, the captain and myself, walked up as cautiously as we
could toward the fire. When we came to it, we concluded,
from several circumstances, some of our people had encamped
there the preceding night. We then went about roasting the
venison, and when just about to march, observed one of our
men coming upon our tracks. He seemed at first very shy,
but having called to him he came up and told us he was the
person who had killed the deer, but upon hearing us come up,
was afraid of Indians, hid in a thicket, and made off. Upon
this we gave him some bread and roasted venison, proceeded
together on our journey, and about two o'clock came upon the
paths by which we had gone out. Capt. Biggs and myself
did not think it safe to keep the road, but the colonel said the
Indians would not follow the troops farther than the plains,
which we were then considerably past. As the wounded
officer rode Capt. Biggs' horse, I lent the captain mine; the
colonel and myself went about one hundred yards in front,
the captain and the wounded officer in the centre, and the
two young men behind. After we had travelled about one
mile and a half, several Indians started up within fifteen or
twenty steps of the colonel and I. As we at first discovered
only three, I immediately got behind a large black oak, made
ready my piece and raised it up to take sight, when the
colonel called to me twice not to fire; upon that one of the
Indians ran up to the colonel and took him by the hand. The
colonel then told me to put down my gun, which I did. At that
instant one of them came up to me, whom I had formerly
seen very often, calling me doctor, and took me by the hand.
They were Delaware Indians of the Wingenim tribe. Capt.
Biggs fired amongst them, but did no execution. They then
told us, to call these people and make them come there, else
they would go and kill them, which the colonel did, but they
four got off and escaped for that time. The colonel and I
were then taken to the Indian camp, which was about half a
mile from the place where we were captured. On Sunday
evening, five Delawares, who had posted themselves at some
distance further on the road, brought back to the camp, where
we lay, Capt. Biggs and Lieut. Ashly's scalps, with an Indian
scalp which Capt. Biggs had taken in the field of action: they
also brought in Biggs' horse and mine; they told us the two
other men got away from them.

"Monday morning, the tenth of June, we were paraded to
march to Sandusky, about thirty-three miles distant; they
had eleven prisoners of us and four scalps, the Indians being
seventeen in number.

"Colonel Crawford was very desirous to see a certain Simon
Girty, who lived among the Indians, and was on this account
permitted to go to town the same night, with two warriors
to guard him, having orders at the same time to pass by the
place where the colonel had turned out his horse, that they
might, if possible, find him. The rest of us were taken as
far as the old town, which was within eight miles of the new.

"Tuesday Morning, the eleventh, Colonel Crawford was
brought out to us on purpose to be marched in with the
other prisoners. I asked the colonel if he had seen Mr.
Girty? He told me he had, and that Girty had promised
to do everything in his power for him, but that the Indians

were very much enraged against the prisoners, particularly
Captain Pipe, one of the chiefs; he likewise told me that
Girty had informed him that his son-in-law, Colonel Harrison,
and his nephew, William Crawford, were made prisoners by
the Shawanese, but had been pardoned. This Captain Pipe
had come from the towns about an hour before Colonel
Crawford, and had painted all the prisoners' faces black.

"As he was painting me, he told me I should go to the
Shawanese towns and see my friends. When the colonel
arrived he painted him black also, told him he was glad to
see him, and that he would have him shaved when he came
to see his friends at the Wyandot town. When we marched,
the colonel and I were kept between Pipe and Wyngenim,
the two Delaware chiefs, the other nine prisoners were sent
forward with a party of Indians. As we went along we
saw four of the prisoners lying by the path tomahawked
and scalped, some of them were at the distance of half a
mile from each other. When we arrived within half a mile
of the place where the colonel was executed, we overtook
the five prisoners that remained alive; the Indians had
caused them to sit down on the ground, as they did, also
the colonel and myself, at some distance from them; I was
there given in charge to an Indian fellow to be taken to the
Shawanese towns.

"In the place where we were now made to sit down, there
was a number of squaws and boys, who fell on the five
prisoners and tomahawked them. There was a certain John
McKinley amonst the prisoners, formerly an officer in the
13th Virginia Regiment, whose head an old squaw cut off,
and the Indians kicked it about upon the ground. The young
Indian fellows came often where the colonel and I were, and
dashed the scalps in our faces. We were then conducted along
toward the place where the colonel was afterwards executed.
When we came within half a mile of it, Simon Girty met us,
with several Indians on horseback; he spoke to the colonel,

but as I was about one hundred and fifty yards behind, could
not hear what passed between them.

"Almost every Indian we met struck us either with sticks
or their fists. Girty waited till I was brought up, and then
asked, Was that the doctor? I answered him Yes, and went
towards him, reaching out my hand, but he bid me begone,
and called me a damned rascal; upon which the fellow who
had me in charge, pulled me along. Girty rode up after me
and told me I was to go to the Shawanese towns.

"When we came to the fire, the colonel was stripped
naked, ordered to sit down by the fire, and then they beat
him with sticks and their fists. Presently after, I was treated
in the same manner. They then tied a rope to the foot of a
post about fifteen feet high, bound the colonel's hands behind
his back, and fastened the rope to the ligature between his
wrists. The rope was long enough either for him to sit down
or to walk round the post once or twice and return the same
way. The colonel then called to Girty, and asked if they
intended to burn him? Girty answered, Yes. The colonel
said he would take it all patiently. Upon this, Captain
Pipe, a Delaware chief, made a speech to the Indians,
consisting of about thirty or forty men, and sixty or seventy
squaws and boys.

"When the speech was finished, they all yelled a hideous
and hearty assent to what had been said. The Indian men
then took up their guns and shot powder into the colonel's
body, from his feet as far up as his neck. I think not less
than seventy loads were discharged upon his naked body.
They then crowded about him, and to the best of my observation,
cut off his ears: when the throng had dispersed a
little, I saw the blood running from both sides of his head in
consequence thereof.

"The fire was about six or seven yards from the post to
which the colonel was tied; it was made of small hickory
poles, burnt quite through in the middle, each end of the

poles remaining about six feet in length. Three or four
Indians, by turns, would take up, individually, one of these
burning pieces of wood and apply it to his naked body,
already burned black with the powder. These tormentors
presented themselves on every side of him, so that which
ever way he ran round the post they met him with the
burning fagots and poles. Some of the squaws took broad
boards, upon which they would put a quantity of burning
coals and hot embers and throw them on him, so that in
a short time he had nothing but coals of fire and hot ashes
to walk upon.

"In the midst of these extreme tortures he called to Simon
Girty, and begged of him to shoot him: but Girty making
no answer, he called to him again. Girty then, by way of
derision, told the colonel he had no gun, at the same time
turning about to an Indian who was behind him, laughed
heartily, and by all his gestures seemed delighted at the
horrid scene.

"Girty then came up to me and bade me prepare for death.
He said, however, I was not to die at that place, but to be
burnt at the Shawanese towns. He swore by G—d I need
not expect to escape death, but should suffer it in all its
extremities.

"Colonel Crawford at this period of his suffering, besought
the Almighty to have mercy on his soul, spoke very low,
and bore his torments with the most manly fortitude. He
continued in all the extremities of pain for an hour and three
quarters or two hours longer, as near as I can judge, when
at last being almost spent, he lay down on his belly; they
then scalped him and repeatedly threw the scalp in my face,
telling me `That was my great captain's.' An old squaw
(whose appearance every way answered the ideas people
entertain of the devil) got a board, took a parcel of coals
and ashes and laid them on his back and head after he had
been scalped; he then raised himself upon his feet and began
to walk round the post; they next put a burning stick to

him as usual, but he seemed more insensible of pain than
before."

Colonel Crawford was about fifty years of age, when he
suffered at the stake. His son-in-law and nephew[11] were
executed ahout the same time; John escaped. What became
of the other members of his family cannot satisfactorily be
ascertained. A daughter was raised by Colonel Shepherd, of
Wheeling creek, and married a Mr. Thornburg. At her marriage,
Col. S. gave her one hundred acres of land, lying near
the present town of Triadelphia.

The death of Col. Crawford cast a gloom over the whole
west, and cannot be contemplated, at this late day, without
an involuntary shudder.