University of Virginia Library

CAPTAIN SAMUEL BRADY.

Of the many brave spirits who started into existence at
the first drum-tap of the Revolution, but few have become
better known, or more respected in the west, than the gallant
Brady, captain of the spies.

At a very early age, this devoted partizan gave indications
of future usefulness; exhibiting in all his movements a spirit
and a purpose to do and dare, which marked him as a man
of no ordinary character, and proved him fit for almost any
emergency.

Brady was emphatically the Marion of the west. Like the
Chevalier Bayard, he was "without fear and without reproach."
A bolder or braver man never drew a sword or
fired a rifle; and these marked elements of his nature rendered
him the terror of the Indian warrior, whether on the
scout or in the wigwam, for he felt himself alike insecure from
the noiseless vengeance of the "leader of the spies." No man
stood higher in the esteem of the hardy settlers, and no name

could inspire more of confidence and of safety, than that of
Samuel Brady. During the whole of the fierce, protracted,
and sanguinary war which ravaged the frontier settlements
of Virginia and Pennsylvania, from 1785 to 1794, no man
could so quiet the trembling and fear-stricken settlers as
Captain Brady. His presence, backed by the band of devoted
followers who always stepped in his footprints, was felt
as security everywhere. The fond mother, who in after years
related to her children the many thrilling incidents of frontier
life which she witnessed and passed through, never failed, as
she thanked her Heavenly Father for having protected her
little innocents from the scalping-knife and tomahawk, to
express her heartfelt gratitude to him who had been the instrumentality
of saving her all from savage barbarity.

Devoted as this man was to the interests of the west, and
sacrificing as he did, almost everything but life, it is a burning
shame that his memory should have been so long neglected,
and that some public recognition of his services has
not been made. It is a reflection upon our gratitude and
patriotism, that while whole galleries are to be found of men
whose services in behalf of their country were not to be compared
with those of Brady, live upon canvas and in marble,
not one single bust or portrait of the gallant leader of the
spies is anywhere to be found. And what is still worse, his
remains lie in an humble burial ground without even a stone,
bearing the most simple inscription to mark the spot from the
undistinguished mass around.

Samuel Brady was born at Shippensburgh, Pennsylvania,
in 1756.[12] His father, John Brady, was made a captain in the
Colonial army, for his services in the old French and Indian
wars. The family, at an early day, moved to the Susquehanna.
On the breaking out of the Revolution, Samuel
joined a volunteer company, and marched to Boston. The

patriotic fervor of the youth, prompted the commander to
offer young Brady a commission; but his father objected,
thinking he was too young, saying, "First let him learn the
duties of a soldier, and then he will better know how to act
as an officer."

"In 1776, Samuel Brady was appointed a first lieutenant.[13]
He continued with the army, and was in all the principal
engagements until after the battle of Monmouth, when he
was promoted to a captaincy, and ordered to the west under
Colonel Brodhead. On their march, he had leave to visit his
friends in Northumberland county. His father, in 1776,
had accepted a captaincy in the 12th Pennsylvania regiment,
been badly wounded at the battle of Brandywine, and was
then at home. Whilst there, he heard of his brother's death,
who had been murdered by the Indians on the 9th of August,
1778. He remained at home until 1779, and then rejoined
his regiment at Pittsburgh. During the same year, his father
was murdered by the Indians; and then it was that our hero
swore vengeance against the whole race. Terribly, too, did
he keep that vow."

In 1781, the Indians became very troublesome in the settlements
above Pittsburgh. Washington, as we have elsewhere
noticed, knew very well that the only guaranty of
safety was to strike the enemy at home. With this view, he
directed Colonel Brodhead to send some suitable person to
their towns, who could ascertain their strength, resources,
etc. Colonel Brodhead's keen military eye saw in Brady the
very man for the service, and giving him the necessary instructions,
the gallant soldier started on his perilous mission,
accompanied by John Williamson and one of the Wetzels.
These men were so completely disguised as Indians, that it
would almost have defied the skill and cunning of a genuine
chief to detect the deception. After a hurried march, they

reached the Indian town at Upper Sandusky, shortly after
dark. Brady posted his men, then entered the town, and
after a thorough reconnoitre rejoined his companions, and
commenced a rapid retreat. His keen eye had caught a lurking
suspicion in some of those whom he met, and it was deemed
important to get beyond their reach as rapidly as possible.
With scarcely a moment's intermission, the three travelled all
night, and stopping a few minutes in the morning, discovered
the Indians were in pursuit. Increasing their movements,
and adopting the precaution of travelling upon logs and
avoiding direct routes, the trio were soon beyond immediate
danger. The remainder of that day, all of that night, and
part of the third day, passed without any cause of apprehension.
Fatigued and hungry, (their sole diet since leaving
home having been parched corn and jerked venison) the party
concluded to take a rest. Williamson stood guard while the
others slept. Brady, at all times a great snorer, on this occasion
gave vent to sounds, that, in the language of Williamson,
"were enough to alarm all the Indians between here and
Sandusky." Thinking a change of position might stop the
nasal artillery, Williamson turned Brady, and then resumed
his seat by the fire. Scarcely had he seated himself, when he
detected the stealthy tread of a savage. Looking attentively
in the direction of the sound, he saw an Indian cautiously
approach, and waiting until he came nearly up, the guard took
steady aim and fired. One convulsive spring, a heavy fall,
and deep groan, were all that could be seen or heard. His
companions sprang to their feet and moved rapidly off, to
avoid an attack; but this was the only Indian, and the
three travelled on without further attempt at molestation.
According to the account furnished by one of the family, of
which we shall have occasion frequently to avail ourselves
during this notice,—

"The map furnished by General Brodhead was found to
be defective. The distance was represented to be much less
than it really was. The provisions and ammunition of the

men were exhausted by the time they had reached the Big
Beaver, on their return. Brady shot an otter, but could not
eat it. The last load was in his rifle. They arrived at an
old encampment, and found plenty of strawberries, which they
stopped to appease their hunger with. Having discovered a
deer-track, Brady followed it, telling the men he would perhaps
get a shot at it. He had gone but a few rods when he
saw the deer standing broadside to him. He raised his rifle
and attempted to fire, but it flashed in the pan. He sat down,
picked the touch-hole, and then started on. After going a
short distance the path made a bend, and he saw before him
a large Indian on horseback, with a child before and its
mother behind, and a number of warriors marching in the
rear. His first impulse was to shoot the Indian on horseback,
but as he raised the rifle he observed the child's head to roll
with the motion of the horse. It was fast asleep, and tied to the
Indian. He stepped behind the root of a tree, and waited
until he could shoot the Indian, without danger to the child
or its mother.

"When he considered the chance certain, he fired, and the
Indian, child, and mother, all fell from the horse. Brady
called to his men, with a voice that made the forest ring, to
surround the Indians, and give them a general fire. He
sprung to the fallen Indian's powder horn, but could not pull
it off. Being dressed like an Indian, the woman thought he
was one, and said `Why did you shoot your brother?' He
caught up the child, saying, `Jenny Stoop, I am Captain
Brady; follow me, and I will secure you and your child.'
He caught her hand in his, carrying the child under the other
arm, and dashed into the brush. Many guns were fired at
him, but no ball touched, and the Indians, dreading an ambuscade,
were glad to make off. The next day he arrived at Fort
M'Intosh, with the woman and her child. His men had got
there before him. They had heard his war-whoop, and knew
they were Indians he had encountered, but having no ammunition,
had taken to their heels and run off."

"The incursions of the Indians had become so frequent,
and their outrages so alarming, that it was thought advisable
to retaliate upon them the injuries of war, and carry into the
country occupied by them, the same system with which they
had visited the settlements. For this purpose an adequate
force was provided, under the immediate command of General
Brodhead, the command of the advance guard of which was
confided to Captain Brady.

"The troops proceeded up the Alleghany river, and had
arrived near the mouth of Redbank creek, now known by the
name of Brady's Bend, without encountering an enemy.
Brady and his Rangers were some distance in front of the
main body, as their duty required, when they suddenly discovered
a war party of Indians approaching them. Relying
on the strength of the main body, and its ability to force the
Indians to retreat, and anticipating, as Napoleon did in the
battle with the Mamelukes, that when driven back they would
return by the same route they had advanced on, Brady permitted
them to proceed without hindrance, and hastened to
seize a narrow pass, higher up the river; where the rocks,
nearly perpendicular, approached the river, and a few determined
men might successfully combat superior numbers."

In a short time the Indians encountered the main body
under Brodhead, and were driven back. In full and swift
retreat they pressed on to gain the pass between the rocks
and the river, but it was occupied by Brady and his Rangers,
who failed not to pour into their flying columns a most destructive
fire. Many were killed on the bank, and many more in
the stream. Cornplanter, afterwards the distinguished chief of
the Senecas, but then a young man, saved himself by swimming.
The celebrated war-chief of this tribe, Bald-Eagle,
was of the number slain on this occasion.

"The army moved onward, and after destroying all the
Indians' corn, and ravaging the Kenjua flats, returned to
Pittsburgh.

"Shortly after Captain Brady's return from Sandusky, he

was observed one evening by a man of the name of Phouts,
sitting in a solitary part of the fort, apparently absorbed in
thought. Phouts approached him, pained to the bottom of
his honest heart to perceive that the countenance of Brady
bore traces of care and melancholy. He accosted him, however,
in the best English he had, and soothingly said, `Gabtain,
was ails you?' Brady looked at him a short time without
speaking; then resuming his usual equanimity, replied, `I
have been thinking about the red skins, and it is my opinion
there are some above us on the river. I have a mind to pay
them a vist. Now, if I get permission from the general to do
so, will you go along?' Phouts was a stout thick Dutchman of
uncommon strength and activity. He was also well acquainted
with the woods. When Brady had ceased speaking, Phouts
raised himself on tiptoe, and bringing his heels hard down on
the ground, by way of emphasis, his eyes full of fire, said,
`By dunder und lightnin, I would rader go mit you, Gabtain,
as to any of te finest weddins in tis guntry.' Brady told him
to keep quiet, and say nothing about it, as no man in the fort
must know any thing of the expedition but General Brodhead.
Bidding Phouts call at his tent in an hour, he then went
to the general's quarters, whom he found reading. After the
usual topics were discussed, Brady proposed for consideration,
his project of ascending the Alleghany, with but one man
in company; stating his reasons for apprehending a descent
from that quarter by the Indians. The general gave his
consent, at parting took him by the hand in a friendly manner,
advising him how to proceed, and charging him particularly
to be careful of his own life, and that of the men or man
whom he might select to accompany him. So affectionate were
the general's admonitions, and so great the emotion he displayed,
that Brady left him with tears in his eyes, and repaired
to his tent, where he found Phouts deep in conversation with
one of his pet Indians.

"He told Phouts of his success with the general, and that,
as it was early in the light of the moon, they must get ready
and be off betimes.

"They immediately set about cleaning their guns, preparing
their ammunition, and having secured a small quantity of
salt, lay down together, and slept soundly until about two
hours before daybreak. Brady awoke first, and stirring
Phouts, each took down the `deadly rifle,' and whilst all but
the sentinels were wrapped in sleep, they left the little
fort, and in a short time found themselves deep buried in the
forest. That day they marched through woods never traversed
by either of them before; following the general course of the
river they reached a small creek[14] that put in from the Pittsburgh
side; it was near night when they got there, and having
no provision, they concluded to remain there all night.

"Next morning they started early and travelled all day; in
the evening the espied a number of crows hovering over the
tops of the trees, near the bank of the river. Brady told
Phouts that there were Indians in the neighborhood, or else
the men who were expected from Susquehanna at Pittsburgh
were there encamped, or had been some time before.

"Phouts was anxious to go down and see, but Brady forbade
him; telling him at the same time, `We must secrete
ourselves till after night, when fires will be made by them,
whoever they may be.' Accordingly, they hid themselves
among fallen timber, and remained so till about ten o'clock
at night. But even then they could still see no fire. Brady
concluded there must be a hill or thick woods between him
and where the crows were seen, and decided on leaving his
hiding place to ascertain the fact; Phouts accompanied him.
They walked with the utmost caution down towards the river
bank, and had gone about two hundred yards, when they
observed the twinkling of a fire, at some distance on their right.
They at first thought the river made a very short bend,
but on proceeding further discovered that it was a fork or
branch of the river, probably the Kiskeminetas. Brady
desired Phouts to stay where he was, intending to go himself

to the fire, and see who was there; but Phouts refused, saying,
`No, by George, I vill see too.' They approached the fire
together, but with the utmost caution; supposing it to be an
Indian encampment, much too large to be attacked by them.

"Resolved to ascertain the number of the enemy, Captain
Brady and his brave comrade went close up to the fire, and
discovered an old Indian sitting beside a tree near the fire,
either mending or making a pair of moccasins.

"Phouts, who never thought of danger, was for shooting
the Indian immediately; but Brady prevented him. After
examining carefully around the camp, he was of opinion that
the number by which it was made had been large, but that
they were principally absent. He determined on knowing
more in the morning; and forcing Phouts away, retired a
short distance to await the approach of day. As soon as it
appeared they returned to the camp, but saw nothing, except
the old Indian, a dog, and a horse.

"Brady wished to see the country around the camp, and
understand its features better; for this purpose he kept at
some distance from it, and examined about, till he got on the
river above it. Here he found a large trail of Indians, who
had gone up the Alleghany; to his judgment it appeared to
have been made one or two days before. Upon seeing this
he concluded to go back to the camp, and take the old Indian
prisoner.

"Supposing the old savage to have arms about him, and
not wishing to run the risk of the alarm the report of a rifle
might create, if Indians were in the neighborhood, Brady
determined to seize the old fellow single handed, without doing
him further `scath,' and carry him off to Pittsburgh. With
this view, both crept toward the camp again, very cautiously.
When they came so near as to perceive him, the Indian was
was lying on his back, with his head towards them.

"Brady ordered Phouts to remain where he was, and not
to fire, unless the dog should attempt to assist his master. In
that case he was to shoot the dog, but by no means to hurt

the Indian. The plan being arranged, Brady dropped his
rifle, and, tomahawk in hand, silently crept towards the old
man, until within a few feet, then raising himself up, he made
a spring like a panther, and with a yell that awakened the
echoes round, seized the Indian, hard and fast by the throat.
The old man struggled a little at first, but Brady's was the
gripe of a lion; holding his tomahawk over the head of his
prisoner, he bade him surrender, as he valued his life. The
dog behaved very civilly; he merely growled a little. Phouts
came up, and they tied their prisoner. On examining the
camp they found nothing of value, except some powder and
lead, which they threw into the river. When the Indian
learned that he was to be taken to Pittsburgh, and would be
kindly treated, he showed them a canoe, which they stepped
into with their prisoner and his dog, and were soon afloat on
the Alleghany.

"They paddled swiftly along for the purpose of reaching
the mouth of the run on which they had encamped coming up;
for Brady had left his wiping rod there. It was late when
they got to the creek's mouth. They landed, made a fire, and
all laid down.

"As soon as daylight appeared, the captain started to where
they left some jerk hanging on the evening before, leaving
Phouts in charge of the prisoner and his canoe. He had not
left the camp long, till the Indian complained to Phouts that
the cords upon his wrist hurt him. He had probably discovered
that in Phout's composition there was a much larger
proportion of kindness than of fear. The Dutchman at once
took off the cords, and the Indian was, or pretended to be,
very grateful.

"Phouts was busied with something else in a minute, and
had left his gun standing by a tree. The moment the Indian
saw that the eye of the other was not upon him, he sprung to
the tree, seized the gun, and the first Phouts knew was that
it was cocked, and at his breast. The trigger was pulled, but
the bullet whistled harmless past him, taking with it a part of

his shot-pouch belt. One stroke of the Dutchman's tomahawk
settled the Indian forever, and nearly severed the head from
his body.

"Brady heard the report of the rifle, and the yell of Phouts;
and supposing all was not right, ran instantly to the spot,
where he found the latter sitting on the body of the Indian,
examining the rent in his shot-pouch belt. `In the name of
Heaven,' said Brady, `what have you done!' `Yust look,
Gabtan,' said the fearless Dutchman, `vat dis d—d black
b—h vas apout;' holding up to view the hole in his belt.
He then related what has been stated with respect to his
untying the Indian, and the attempt of the latter to kill him.
They then took off the scalp of the Indian, got their canoe,
took in the Indian's dog, and returned to Pittsburgh, the fourth
day after their departure."

Beaver valley was the scene of many of Captain Brady's
stirring adventures. We have recently visited some of the
interesting localities celebrated as Brady's theatre of action,
and heard from many of the older citizens their accounts of his
thrilling exploits. They speak in unbounded terms of admiration
of his daring and success; his many hair-breadth escapes
by "field and flood;" and always concluded by declaring that
he was a greater man than Daniel Boon or Lewis Wetzel, either
of whom, in the eyes of the old pioneers, were the very
embodiment of dare-devilism.

The following, illustrating one of Brady's adventures in the
region referred to, we give from a published source. In one
of his trapping and hunting excursions, he was surprised and
taken prisoner by a party of Indians who had closely watched
his movements.

"To have shot or tomahawked him would have been but a
small gratification to that of satiating their revenge by burning
him at a slow fire, in presence of all the Indians of their
village. He was therefore taken alive to their encampment,
on the west bank of the Beaver river, about a mile and a half
from its mouth. After the usual exultations and rejoicings

at the capture of a noted enemy, and causing him to run the
gauntlet, a fire was prepared, near which Brady was placed,
after being stripped, and with his arms unbound. Previous to
tying him to the stake, a large circle was formed around of
Indian men, women, and children, dancing and yelling, and
uttering all manner of threats and abuses that their small
knowledge of the English language could afford. The prisoner
looked on these preparations for death, and on his
savage foe with a firm countenance, and a steady eye, meeting
all their threats with truly savage fortitude. In the midst
of their dancing and rejoicing, a squaw of one of their chiefs
came near him with a child in her arms. Quick as thought
and with intuitive prescience, he snatched it from her and
threw it into the midst of the flames. Horror stricken at the
sudden outrage, the Indians simultaneously rushed to rescue
the infant from the fire. In the midst of this confusion, Brady
darted from the circle, overturning all that came in his way,
and rushed into the adjacent thicket, with the Indians yelling
at his heels. He ascended the steep side of a hill amidst a
shower of bullets, and darting down the opposite declivity,
secreted himself in the deep ravines and laurel thickets that
abound for several miles to the west. His knowledge of the
country and wonderful activity, enabled him to elude his
enemies, and reach the settlements in safety."

From one of Brady's old soldiers—one of the noble spies,
who has not yet answered to the roll-call of death—one who
served with him three years, during the most trying and
eventful period of his life, we have gathered the facts of the
following incident. On one of their scouting expeditions into
the Indian country, the spies, consisting at that time of sixteen
men, encamped for the night at a place called "Big
Shell Camp." Toward morning, one of the guard heard the
report of a gun, and immediately communicating the fact to
his commander, a change of position was ordered. Leading
his men to an elevated point, the Indian camp was discovered
almost beneath them. Cautiously advancing in direction of

the camp, six Indians were discovered standing around the
fire, while several others lay upon the ground apparently
asleep. Brady ordered his men to wrap themselves in their
blankets, and lie down while he kept watch. Two hours thus
passed without anything materially occurring. As day began
to appear, Brady roused his men, and posted them side
by side, himself at the end of the line. When all were in
readiness, the commander was to touch with his elbow the
man who stood next to him, and the communication was to
pass successively to the farthest end. The orders then were,
the moment the last man was touched, he should fire, which
was to be the signal for a general discharge. With the first
faint ray of light, rose six Indians and stood around the fire.
With breathless expectation, the whites waited for the remainder
to rise, but failing, and apprehending a discovery, the
captain moved his elbow, and the next instant the wild wood
rang with the shrill report of the rifles of the spies. Five of
the six Indians fell dead, but the sixth, screened by a tree,
escaped. The camp being large, it was deemed unsafe to
attack it further, and a retreat was immediately ordered.

Soon after the above occurrence, in returning from a similar
expedition, and when about two miles from the mouth of
Yellow creek, at a place admirably adapted for an ambuscade,
a solitary Indian stepped forward and fired upon the advancing
company. Instantly, on firing, he retreated toward a deep
ravine, into which the savage hoped to lead his pursuers.
But Brady detected the trick, and in a voice of thunder
ordered his men to tree. No sooner had this been done, than
the concealed foe rushed forth in great numbers, and opened
upon the whites a perfect storm of leaden hail. The brave
spies returned the fire with spirit and effect; but as they were
likely to be overpowered by superior numbers, a retreat was
ordered to the top of the hill, and thence continued until out
of danger.

The whites lost one man in this engagement, and two

wounded. The Indian loss is supposed to have been about
twenty in killed and wounded.

In concluding this imperfect sketch of one who performed
no ordinary part in the settlement of the west, we regret that
our means and time have not allowed us to prepare a more
full and general biography.

Captain Brady married a daughter of Captain Van Swearengen,
of Ohio county, who bore him two children, John and
Van S., both of whom are still living. Captain Brady possessed
all the elements of a brave and successful soldier. Like
Marion, "he consulted with his men respectfully, heard them
patiently, weighed their suggestions, and silently approached
his own conclusions. They knew his determination only by
his actions." Brady had but few superiors as a woodman:
he would strike out into the heart of the wilderness, and with
no guide but the sun by day, and the stars by night, or in
their absence, then by such natural marks as the bark and
tops of trees, he would move on steadily, in a direct line
toward the point of his destination. He always avoided
beaten paths and the borders of streams; and never was
known to leave his track behind him. In this manner he
eluded pursuit, and defied detection. He was often vainly
hunted by his own men, and was more likely to find them
than they him.

Such was Brady, the leader of the spies.