University of Virginia Library

[172] CHAPTER X.

After the winter became so severe as to prevent the
Indians from penetrating the country and committing farther
aggression, the inhabitants became assured of safety,
and devoted much of their time to the erection of new
forts, the strengthening of those which had been formerly
established, and the making of other preparations, deemed
necessary to prevent the repetition of those distressing occurrences,
which had spread gloom and sorrow over almost
every part of North Western Virginia. That the savages
would early renew their exertions to destroy the frontier
settlements, and harrass their citizens, could not for an
instant be doubted.—Revenge for the murder of Cornstalk,
and the other chiefs killed in the fort by the whites, had
operated to unite the warlike nation of the Shawanees in
a league with the other Indians, against them; and every
circumstance seemed to promise increased exertions on
their part, to accomplish their purposes of blood and
devastation.

Notwithstanding all which had been suffered during
the preceding season; and all, which it was confidently
anticipated, would have to be undergone after the return
of spring, yet did the whole frontier increase in population,
and in capacity to defend itself against the encroachments
of a savage enemy, aided by British emissaries, and
led on by American tories. The accession to its strength,
caused by the number of emigrants, who came into the
different settlements, was indeed considerable; yet it was
insufficient, to enable the inhabitants to purchase by offensive
operations, exemption from [173] invasion, or security
from the tomahawk and scalping knife. Assured of this,
Virginia extended to them farther assistance; and a small
body of regular troops, under the command of General
McIntosh, was appropriated to their defence.

In the spring of 1778, General McIntosh,[1] with the
regulars and some militiamen, attached to his command,
descended the Ohio river from Fort Pitt, to the mouth of
Big Beaver—a creek discharging itself into that river from
the north-west.[2] This was a favorable position, at which
to station his troops to effect the partial security of the
frontier, by intercepting parties of Indians on their way to
the settlements on the opposite side of the river, and by
pursuing and punishing them while engaged, either in
committing havoc, or in retreating to their towns, after
the consummation of their horrid purposes. Fort McIntosh
was accordingly erected here, and garrisoned; a six
pounder mounted for its defence.

From Wheeling to Point Pleasant, a distance of one
hundred and eighty-six miles,[3] there was then no obstacle
whatever, presented to the advance of Indian war parties,
into the settlements on the East and West Forks of the
Monongahela, and their branches. The consequences of
this exposure had been always severely felt; and never
more so than after the establishment of Fort McIntosh.
Every impediment to their invasion of one part of the
country, caused more frequent irruptions into others,
where no difficulties were interposed to check their progress,
and brought heavier woes on them.—This had been
already experienced, in the settlements on the upper
branches of the Monongahela, and as they were the last

to feel the effects of savage enmity in 1777, so were they
first to become sacrificed to its fury in 1778.

Anticipating the commencement of hostilities at an
earlier period of the season, than usual, several families
retired into Harbert's block-house, on Ten Mile (a branch
of the West Fork,) in the month of February. And notwithstanding
the prudent caution manifested by them in
the step thus taken; yet, the state of the weather lulling
them into false security, they did not afterwards exercise
the vigilance and provident care, which were necessary to
ensure their future safety. On the third of March, some
children, playing with a crippled crow, at a short distance
from the yard, espied a number of Indians proceeding towards
them; and running briskly to the house, told "that
a number of red men were close by."—[174] John Murphey
stepped to the door to see if danger had really approached,
when one of the Indians, turning the corner of the house,
fired at him. The ball took effect, and Murphey fell back
into the house. The Indian springing directly in, was
grappled by Harbert, and thrown on the floor. A shot
from without, wounded Harbert, yet he continued to maintain
his advantage over the prostrate savage, striking him
as effectually as he could with his tomahawk, when another
gun was fired at him from without the house. The
ball passed through his head, and he fell lifeless. His antagonist
then slipped out at the door, sorely wounded in
the encounter.

Just after the first Indian had entered, an active
young warrior, holding in his hand a tomahawk with a
long spike at the end, also came in. Edward Cunningham
instantly drew up his gun to shoot him; but it
flashed, and they closed in doubtful strife. Both were
active and athletic; and sensible of the high prize for
which they were contending, each put forth his utmost
strength, and strained his every nerve, to gain the ascendency.
For a while, the issue seemed doubtful. At length,
by great exertion, Cunningham wrenched the tomahawk
from the hand of the Indian, and buried the spike end to
the handle, in his back. Mrs. Cunningham closed the
contest. Seeing her husband struggling closely with the

savage, she struck at him with an axe. The edge wounding
his face severely, he loosened his hold, and made his
way out of the house.

The third Indian, which had entered before the door
was closed, presented an appearance almost as frightful as
the object which he had in view. He wore a cap made
of the unshorn front of a buffalo, with the ears and horns
still attached to it, and which hanging loosely about his
head, gave to him a most hideous aspect. On entering
the room, this infernal monster, aimed a blow with his
tomahawk at a Miss Reece, which alighting on her head,
wounded her severely. The mother of this girl, seeing
the uplifted arm about to descend on her daughter, seized
the monster by the horns; but his false head coming readily
off, she did not succeed in changing the direction of
the weapon. The father then caught hold of him; but
far inferior in strength and agility, he was soon thrown
on the floor, and must have been killed, but for the timely
interference of Cunningham. Having [175] succeeded in
ridding the room of one Indian, he wheeled, and sunk a
tomahawk into the head of the other.

During all this time the door was kept by the women,
tho' not without great exertion. The Indians from without
endeavored several times to force it open and gain
admittance; and would at one time have succeeded, but
that, as it was yielding to their effort to open it, the Indian,
who had been wounded by Cunningham and his
wife, squeezing out at the aperture which had been made,
caused a momentary relaxation of the exertions of those
without, and enabled the women again to close it, and
prevent the entrance of others.—These were not however,
unemployed. They were engaged in securing such of the
children in the yard, as were capable of being carried
away as prisoners, and in killing and scalping the others;
and when they had effected this, despairing of being able
to do farther mischief, they retreated to their towns.

Of the whites in the house, one only was killed and
four were wounded; and seven or eight children in the
yard, were killed or taken prisoners. One Indian was
killed, and two badly wounded. Had Reece engaged

sooner in the conflict, the other two who had entered the
house, would no doubt have been likewise killed; but being
a quaker, he looked on, without participating in the
conflict, until his daughter was wounded. Having then
to contend singly, with superior prowess, he was indebted
for the preservation of his life, to the assistance of those
whom he refused to aid in pressing need.

On the eleventh of April, some Indians visited the
house of Wm. Morgan, at the Dunkard bottom of Cheat
river. They there killed a young man by the name of
Brain, Mrs. Morgan, (the mother of William) and her
grand daughter, and Mrs. Dillon and her two children;
and took Mrs. Morgan (the wife) and her child prisoners.
When, on their way home, they came near to Pricket's
fort, they bound Mrs. Morgan to a bush, and went in
quest of a horse for her to ride, leaving her child with
her. She succeeded in untying with her teeth, the bands
which confined her, and wandered the balance of that day
and part of the next before she came in sight of the fort.
Here she was kindly treated and in a few days sent home.
Some men going out from Pricket's fort some short time
after, found at the spot where Mrs. Morgan had [176] been
left by the Indians, a fine mare stabbed to the heart.—Exasperated
at the escape of Mrs. Morgan, they had no doubt
vented their rage on the animal which they had destined
to bear her weight.

In the last of April, a party of about twenty Indians
came to the neighborhoods of Hacker's creek and the
West Fork. At this time the inhabitants of those neighborhoods
had removed to West's fort, on the creek, and to
Richards' fort on the river; and leaving the women and
children in them during the day, under the protection of a
few men, the others were in the habit of performing the
usual labors of their farms in companies, so as to preserve
them from attacks of the Indians. A company of men,
being thus engaged, the first week of May, in a field, now
owned by Minter Bailey, on Hacker's creek, and being a
good deal dispersed in various occupations, some fencing,
others clearing, and a few ploughing, they were unexpectedly
fired upon by the Indians, and Thomas Hughes and

Jonathan Lowther shot down: the others being incautiously
without arms fled for safety. Two of the company,
having the Indians rather between them and West's fort,
ran directly to Richards', as well for their own security as
to give the alarm there. But they had been already apprized
that the enemy was at hand. Isaac Washburn, who
had been to mill on Hacker's creek the day before, on his
return to Richards' fort and near to where Clement's mill
now stands, was shot from his horse, tomahawked and
scalped. The finding of his body, thus cruelly mangled,
had given them the alarm, and they were already on their
guard, before the two men from Hacker's creek arrived
with the intelligence of what had been done there. The
Indians then left the neighborhood without effecting more
havoc; and the whites were too weak to go in pursuit,
and molest them.

The determination of the Shawanees to revenge the
death of their Sachem, had hitherto been productive of no
very serious consequences. A while after his murder, a
small band of them made their appearance near the fort
at Point Pleasant; and Lieutenant Moore was dispatched
from the garrison, with some men, to drive them off.
Upon his advance, they commenced retreating; and the
officer commanding the detachment, fearing they would
escape, ordered a quick pursuit. He did not proceed far
before he fell into an ambuscade. He and three of his
men were killed at the first [177] fire;—the rest of the
party saved themselves by a precipitate flight to the fort.

In the May following this transaction, a few Indians
again came in sight of the fort. But as the garrison had
been very much reduced by the removal of Captain Arbuckle's
company, and the experience of the last season
had taught them prudence, Captain McKee forbore to
detach any of his men in pursuit of them. Disappointed,
in their expectations of enticing others to destruction, as
they had Lieutenant Moore in the winter, the Indians suddenly
rose from their covert, and presented an unbroken
line, extending from the Ohio to the Kanawha river in
front of the fort. A demand for the surrender of the garrison,

was then made; and Captain McKee asked 'till the
next morning to consider of it. In the course of the night,
the men were busily employed in bringing water from the
river, expecting that the Indians would continue before
the fort for some time.

In the morning, Captain McKee sent his answer by
the grenadier squaw, (sister to Cornstalk, and who, notwithstanding
the murder of her brother and nephew, was
still attached to the whites, and was remaining at the fort
in the capacity of interpreter)[4] that he could not comply
with their demand.—The Indians immediately began the
attack, and for one week kept the garrison closely besieged.
Finding however, that they made no impression on the
fort, they collected the cattle about it and instead of returning
towards their own country with the plunder, proceeded
up the Kanawha river towards the Greenbrier
settlement.

Believing their object to be the destruction of that
settlement, and knowing from their great force that they
would certainly accomplish it, if the inhabitants were unadvised
of their approach, Captain McKee despatched two
men to Col. Andrew Donnelly's, (then the frontier
house,) with the intelligence. These men soon came in
view of the Indians; but finding that they were advancing
in detached groups, and dispersed in hunting parties,
through the woods, they despaired of being able to pass
them, and returned to the fort. Captain McKee then
made an appeal to the chivalry of the garrison, and asked,
"who would risk his life to save the people of Greenbrier."
John Pryor and Philip Hammond, at once stepped forward,
and replied "WE WILL." They were then habited
after the Indian manner, and painted in Indian style by
the Grenadier Squaw, and departed on their hazardous,
but noble and generous undertaking. Travelling, night
and day, with great rapidity, they [178] passed the Indians
at Meadow river, and arrived, about sunset of that day
at Donnelly's fort, twenty miles farther on.

As soon as the intelligence of the approach of the Indians,
was communicated by these men, Col. Donnelly had
the neighbors all advised of it; and in the course of the
night, they collected at his house. He also dispatched a
messenger to Capt. John Stuart, to acquaint him with the
fact; and made every preparation to resist attack and ensure
their safety, of which his situation admitted. Pryor
and Hammond told them how, by the precaution of Captain
McKee, the garrison at Point Pleasant had been saved
from suffering by the want of water; and advised them to
lay in a plentiful supply, of that necessary article. A hogshead
was accordingly filled and rolled behind the door of
the kitchen, which adjoined the dwelling house.

Early next morning, John Pritchet (a servant to Col.
Donnelly) went out for some firewood, and while thus engaged,
was fired at and killed. The Indians then ran into
the yard, and endeavored to force open the kitchen door;
but Hammond and Dick Pointer (a negro belonging to Col.
Donnelly) who were the only persons within, aided by the
hogshead of water, prevented their accomplishing this object.
They next proceeded to cut it in pieces, with their
tomahawks. Hammond seeing that they would soon succeed
in this way, with the assistance of Dick, rolled the
hogshead to one side, and letting the door suddenly fly
open, killed the Indian at the threshold, and the others
who were near gave way. Dick then fired among them,
with a musket heavily charged with swan shot, and no
doubt with effect, as the yard was crowded with the enemy;
a war club with a swan shot in it, was afterwards
picked up near the door.

The men in the house, who were asleep at the commencement
of the attack, being awakened at the firing of
Hammond and Dick, now opened a galling fire upon the
Indians. Being chiefly up stairs they were enabled to do
greater execution, and fired with such effect that, about
one o'clock, the enemy retired a small distance from the
house. Before they retired however, some of them succeeded
in getting under the floor, when they were aided
by the whites below in raising some of the puncheons of
which it was made. It was to their advantage to do this;

and well did they profit by it. Several of the Indians were
killed in this attempt to gain admittance, while only one
of the whites received a wound, which but slightly injured
his hand.

When intelligence was conveyed to Capt. Stuart of
the approach of so large a body of savages, Col. Samuel
Lewis was with him; and they both exerted themselves to
save the settlement from destruction, by collecting the inhabitants
at a fort where Lewisburg now stands. Having
succeeded in this, they sent two men to Donnelly's to learn
whether the Indians had advanced that far. As they approached,
the firing became distinctly audible, and they
returned [179] with the tidings. Capt. Stuart and Col.
Lewis proposed marching to the relief of Donnelly's fort,
with as many men as were willing to accompany them;
and in a brief space of time, commenced their march at
the head of sixty-six men. Pursuing the most direct route
without regarding the road, they approached the house on
the back side; and thus escaped an ambuscade of Indians
placed near the road to intercept and cut off any assistance
which might be sent from the upper settlements.

Adjoining the yard, there was a field of well grown
rye, into which the relief from Lewisburg, entered about
two o'clock; but as the Indians had withdrawn to a distance
from the house, there was no firing heard. They
soon however, discovered the savages in the field, looking
intently towards Donnoly's; and it was resolved to pass
them. Capt. Stuart and Charles Gatliff fired at them, and
the whole party rushed forward into the yard, amid a
heavy discharge of balls from the savage forces. The people
in the fort hearing the firing in the rear of the house,
soon presented themselves at the port holes, to resist, what
they supposed, was a fresh attack on them; but quickly
discovering the real cause, they opened the gates, and all
the party led on by Stuart and Lewis, safely entered.

The Indians then resumed the attack, and maintained
a constant fire at the house, until near dark, when one
of them approached, and in broken English called out, "we
want peace." He was told to come in and he should have
it; but he declined the invitation to enter, and they all retreated,

dragging off those of their slain, who lay not too
near the fort.

Of the whites, four only were killed by the enemy.
Pritchet, before the attack commenced,—James Burns and
Alexander Ochiltree, as they were coming to the house
early in the morning,—and James Graham while in the
fort. It was impossible to ascertain the entire loss of the
Indians. Seventeen lay dead in the yard; and they were
known to carry off others of their slain. Perhaps the disparity
of the killed, equalled, if it did not exceed the disparity
of the number engaged. There were twenty-one
men at Donnoly's fort, before the arrival of the reinforcement
under Stuart and Lewis; and the brunt of the battle
was over before they came. The Indian force exceeded
two hundred men.

It was believed, that the invasion of the Greenbrier
country had been projected, some time before it actually
was made. During the preceding season, an Indian calling
himself John Hollis, had been very much through the
settlement; and was known to take particular notice of
the different forts, which he entered under the garb of
friendship. He was with the Indians in the attack on
Donnoly's fort; and was recognized as one of those who
were left dead in the yard.

On the morning after the Indians departed, Capt.
Hamilton went in pursuit of them with seventy men; but
following two days, without [180] perceiving that he gained
on them, he abandoned the chase and returned.

About the middle of June, three women went out
from West's fort, to gather greens in a field adjoining;
and while thus engaged were attacked by four Indians,
lying in wait. One gun only was fired, and the ball from
it, passed through the bonnet of Mrs. Hackor, who screamed
aloud and ran with the others towards the fort. An Indian,
having in his hand a long staff, with a spear in one
end, pursuing closely after them, thrust it at Mrs. Freeman
with such violence that, entering her back just below
the shoulder, it came out at her left breast. With his
tomahawk, he cleft the upper part of her head, and carried
it off to save the scalp.

The screams of the women alarmed the men in the
fort; and seizing their guns, they ran out, just as Mrs.
Freeman fell. Several guns were fired at the Indian while
he was getting her scalp, but with no effect. They served
however, to warn the men who went out, that danger was
at hand; and they quickly came in.

Jesse Hughs[5] and John Schoolcraft (who were out)
in making their way to the fort, came very near two Indians
standing by the fence looking towards the men at
West's, so intently, that they did not perceive any one
near them. They however, were observed by Hughs and
Schoolcraft, who, avoiding them, made their way in, safely,
Hughs immediately took up his gun, and learning the fate
of Mrs. Freeman, went with some others to bring in the
corpse. While there, he proposed to go and shew them,
how near he had approached the Indians after the alarm
had been given, before he saw them. Charles and Alexander
West, Chas. Hughs, James Brown and John Steeth,
went with him. Before they had arrived at the place, one
of the Indians was heard to howl like a wolf; and the men
with Hughs moved on in the direction from which the
sound proceeded. Supposing that they were then near
the spot, Jesse Hughs howled in like manner, and being
instantly answered, they ran to a point of the hill and
looking over it, saw two Indians coming towards them.
Hughs fired and one of them fell. The other took to
flight. Being pursued by the whites, he sought shelter in
a thicket of brush; and while they were proceeding to intercept
him at his coming out, he returned by the way he
had entered, and made his escape. The wounded Indian
likewise got off. When the whites were in pursuit of the
one who took to flight, they passed near to him who had
fallen, and one of the men was for stopping and finishing
him; but Hughs called to him, "he is safe—let us have
the other," and they all pressed forward. On their return,
however, he was gone; and although his free bleeding enabled
them to pursue his track readily for a while, yet a

heavy shower of rain soon falling, all trace of him was
quickly lost and could not be afterwards regained.

On the 16th of June as Capt. James Booth and
Nathaniel Cochran, were at work in a field on Booth's
creek, they were fired at by [181] the Indians. Booth fell,
but Cochran, being very slightly wounded, took to flight.
He was however, overtaken, and carried into captivity to
their towns. From thence he was taken to Detroit, where
he remained some time; and endeavoring to escape from
that place, unfortunately took a path which led him immediately
to the Maumee old towns. Here he was detained
a while, & then sent back to Detroit, where he was
exchanged, and from whence he made his way home, after
having had to endure much suffering and many hardships.
The loss of Booth was severely felt by the inhabitants in
that settlement. He was not only an active and enterprising
man, but was endowed with superior talents, and
a better education than most of those who had settled
in the country; and on these accounts was very much
missed.

In a few days after this transaction, Benjamin Shinn,
Wm. Grundy, and Benjamin Washburn, returning from a
lick on the head of Booth's creek, were fired on by the
Indians, when near to Baxter's run. Washburn and Shinn
escaped unhurt, but Grundy was killed: he was brother
to Felix Grundy of Tennessee, whose father was then residing
at Simpson's creek, at a farm afterwards owned by
Colonel Benjamin Wilson, senior.

This party of Indians continued for some days, to
prowl about the neighborhood, seeking opportunities of
committing murder on the inhabitants; fortunately however,
with but little success. James Owens, a youth of sixteen
years of age, was the only one whom they succeeded
in killing after the murder of Grundy. Going from Powers'
fort on Simpson's creek, to Booth's creek, his saddle
girth gave way, and while he was down mending it, a ball
was discharged at him, which killed both him and the
horse.

Seeing that the whites, in that neighborhood, had all
retired to the fort; and being too weak, openly to attack

it, they crossed over to Bartlett's run, and came to the
house of Gilbert Hustead, who was then alone, and engaged
in fixing his gun lock. Hearing a noise in the yard,
for which he was unable to account, he slipped to the door,
to ascertain from whence it proceeded. The Indians were
immediately round it, and there was no chance for his
escape. Walking out with an air of the utmost pleasantry,
he held forth his hand to the one nearest him, and
asked them all to walk in. While in the house he affected
great cheerfulness, and by his tale [182] won their confidence
and friendship. He told them that he was a King's
man and unwilling to live among the rebels; for which
reason, when others retired into the fort, he preferred
staying at his own house, anxiously hoping for the arrival
of some of the British Indians, to afford him an opportunity
of getting among English friends. Learning upon
enquiry, that they would be glad to have something to eat,
he asked one of them to shoot a fat hog which was in the
yard, that they might regale on it that night, and have
some on which to subsist while travelling to their towns.
In the morning, still farther to maintain the deception he
was practising, he broke his furniture to pieces, saying
"the rebels shall never have the good of you." He then
accompanied them to their towns, acting in the same, apparently,
contented and cheerful manner, 'till his sincerity
was believed by all, and he obtained leave to return for
his family. He succeeded in making his way home, where
he remained, sore at the destruction of his property, but
exulting in the sucess of his artifice.

While this party of Indians were thus engaged, on
Booth's creek and in the circumjacent country, a more
numerous body had invaded the settlements lower down,
and were employed in the work of destruction there.
They penetrated to Coburn's creek unperceived, and were
making their way (as was generally supposed) to a fort
not far from Morgantown, when they fell in with a party
of whites, returning from the labors of the cornfield, and
then about a mile from Coburn's fort. The Indians had
placed themselves on each side of the road leading to the
fort, and from their covert fired on the whites, before they

were aware of danger. John Woodfin being on horseback,
had his thigh broken by a ball; which killed his
horse and enabled them to catch him easily.—Jacob Miller
was shot through the abdomen, and soon overtaken,
tomahawked and scalped.—The others escaped to the fort.

Woodfin was afterwards found on a considerable eminence
overlooking the fort, tomahawked and scalped.
The Indians had, most probably, taken him there, that he
might point out to them the least impregnable part of the
fortress, and in other respects give them such information,
as would tend to ensure success to their meditated
attack on it; but when they heard its strength and the
force with which it was garrisoned, despairing of being
able to reduce it, in a fit of disappointed fury, they murdered
him on the spot.

[183] They next made their appearance on Dunkard
creek, and near to Stradler's fort. Here, as on Coburn's
creek, they lay in ambush on the road side, awaiting the
return of the men who were engaged at work, in some of
the neighboring fields. Towards evening the men came
on, carrying with them some hogs which they had killed
for the use of the fort people, and on approaching where
the Indians lay concealed, were fired on and several fell.
Those who escaped injury from the first fire, returned the
shot, and a severe action ensued. But so many of the
whites had been killed before the savages exposed themselves
to view, that the remainder were unable long to
sustain the unequal contest. Overpowered by numbers,
the few, who were still unhurt, fled precipitately to the
fort, leaving eighteen of their companions dead in the
road. These were scalped and mangled by the Indians in
a most shocking manner, and lay some time, before the
men in the fort, assured of the departure of the enemy,
went out and buried them.

Weakened by the severe loss sustained in this bloody
skirmish, had the Indians pushed forward to attack the
fort, in all human probability, it would have fallen before
them. There were at that day very few settlements which
could have maintained possession of a garrison for any
length of time, after having suffered so great a diminution

of the number of their inhabitants, against the onsets
of one hundred savages, exercising their wonted
energy: and still less would they be able to leave their
strong holds, and cope with such superior force, in open
battle. Nor were the settlements, as yet, sufficiently contiguous
to each other, to admit of their acting in concert,
and combining their strength, to operate effectively against
their invaders. When alarmed by the approach of the
foe, all that they could generally do, was, retire to a fort,
and endeavor to defend it from assault. If the savages,
coming in numbers, succeeded in committing any outrage,
it usually went unpunished. Sensible of their want of
strength, the inhabitants rarely ventured in pursuit, to
harrass or molest the retiring foe. When, however, they
would hazard to hang on their retreat, the many precautions
which they were compelled to exercise, to prevent
falling into ambuscades and to escape the entangling artifices
of their wily enemies, frequently rendered their enterprises
abortive, and their exertions inefficient.

[184] The frequent visits paid by the Indians to the
country on the West Fork, and the mischief which they
would effect at these times, led several of the inhabitants
to resolve on leaving a place so full of dangers, as soon as
they could make the necessary preparations. A family
of Washburns particularly, having several times very narrowly
escaped destruction, commenced making arrangements
and fitting up for their departure. But while two
of them were engaged in procuring pine knots, from which
to make wax for shoemaking, they were discovered, and
shot at by the Indians. Stephen fell dead, and James was
taken prisoner and carried to their towns.—He was there
forced to undergo repeated and intense suffering before
death closed the scene of his miseries.

According to the account given by Nathaniel Cochran
on his return from captivity, Washburn was most severely
beaten, on the first evening of his arrival at their village,
while running the gauntlet; and although he succeeded in
getting into the council house, where Cochran was, yet
he was so disfigured and mutilated, that he could not be
recognised by his old acquaintance; and so stunned and

stupified, that he remained nearly all night in a state of
insensibility. Being somewhat revived in the morning,
he walked to where Cochran sat by the fire, and being
asked if he were not James Washburn, replied with a
smile—as if a period had been put to his sufferings by the
sympathetic tone in which the question was proposed—
that he was. The gleam of hope which flashed over his
countenance, was transient and momentary. In a few
minutes he was again led forth, that the barbarities which
had been suspended by the interposition of night, might
be revived; and he made to endure a repetition of their
cruelties. He was now feeble and too much exhausted to
save himself from the clubs and sticks, even of the aged
of both sexes. The old men and the old women, who followed
him, had strength and activity enough to keep pace
with his fleetest progress, and inflict on him their severest
blows. Frequently he was beaten to the ground, and as
frequently, as if invigorated by the extremity of anguish,
he rose to his feet. Hobbling before his tormentors, with
no hope but in death, an old savage passed a knife across
his ham, which cutting the tendons, disabled him from
proceeding farther. Still they repeated their unmerciful
blows with all their energy. He was next scalped, though
alive, and struggling to regain his feet. [185] Even this
did not operate to suppress their cruelty. They continued
to beat him, until in the height of suffering he again exhibited
symptoms of life and exerted himself to move.
His head was then severed from his shoulders, attached
to a pole, and placed in the most public situation in the
village.

After the attack on the Washburns, there were but
two other outrages committed in the upper country during
that season. The cessation on the part of the savages,
of hostile incursions, induced an abandonment of the
forts, and the people returned to their several homes, and
respective occupations. But aggression was only suspended
for a time. In October, two Indians appeared
near the house of Conrad Richards, and finding in the
yard a little girl at play, with an infant in her arms, they
scalped her and rushed to the door. For some time they

endeavored to force it open; but it was so securely fastened
within, that Richards was at liberty to use his gun
for its defence. A fortunate aim wounded one of the assailants
severely, and the other retreated, helping off his
companion. The girl who had been scalped in the yard,
as soon as she observed the Indians going away, ran,
with the infant still in her arms and uninjured, and entered
the house—a spectacle of most heart-rending wretchedness.

Soon after, David Edwards, returning from Winchester
with salt, was shot near the Valley river, tomahawked
and scalped; in which situation he lay for some time before
he was discovered. He was the last person who fell
a victim to savage vengeance, in North Western Virginia
in the year 1778.

The repeated irruptions of the Indians during the
summer of the year;[6] and the frequent murders and great
devastation committed by them, induced Government to
undertake two expeditions into the Indian country. One
thousand men were placed under the command of General
McIntosh, some time in the fall, and he received orders to
proceed forthwith against the Sandusky towns. Between
two and three hundred soldiers were likewise placed under
Colonel Clarke, to operate against the Canadian settlements
in Illinois. It was well known that the Governor
of those settlements was an indefatigable agent of British
cruelty, stimulating the savages to aggression, and paying
them well for scalps, torn alike from the heads of the
aged matron and the helpless infant.[7] [186] The settlements
in Kentucky, were constantly the theatre of outrage
and murder; and to preserve these from entire destruction,
it was necessary that a blow should be aimed, at the

hives from which the savages swarmed, and if possible,
that those holds, into which they would retire to reap the
rewards of their cruelties and receive the price of blood,
should be utterly broken up. The success of those two
expeditions could not fail to check savage encroachments,
and give quiet and security to the frontier; and although
the armies destined to achieve it, were not altogether adequate
to the service required, yet the known activity and
enterprize of the commanding officers, joined to their
prudence and good conduct, and the bravery and indefatigable
perseverance and hardiness of the troops, gave
promise of a happy result.

The success of the expedition under Colonel Clarke,[8]

fully realized the most sanguine expectations of those,
who were acquainted with the adventurous and enterprising
spirit of its commander; and was productive of essential
benefit to the state, as well as of comparative security to
the border settlements. Descending the Ohio river, from
Fort Pitt to the Falls, he there landed his troops, and concealing
his boats, marched directly towards Kaskaskias.
Their provisions, which were carried on their backs, were
soon exhausted; and for two days, the army subsisted entirely
on roots. This was the only circumstance, which
occurred during their march, calculated to damp the
ardor of the troops. No band of savage warriors, had
interposed to check their progress,—no straggling Indian,
had discovered their approach. These fortunate omens
inspired them with flattering hopes; and they pushed forward,
with augmented energy. Arriving before Kaskaskias
in the night, they entered it, unseen and unheard, and
took possession of the town and fort, without opposition.
Relying on the thick and wide extended forests which interposed
between them and the American settlements, the
inhabitants had been lulled to repose by fancied security,
and were unconscious of danger until it had become too
late to be avoided. Not a single individual escaped, to
spread the alarm in the adjacent settlements.

But there still remained other towns, higher up the
Mississippi, which, if unconquered, would still afford
shelter to the savages and furnish them the means of annoyance
and of ravage. Against these, Colonel Clarke
immediately directed [187] operations. Mounting a detachment
of men, on horses found at Kaskaskias, and
sending them forward, three other towns were reduced
with equal success. The obnoxious governor at Kaskaskias
was sent directly to Virginia, with the written instructions
which he had received from Quebec, Detroit
and Michillimacinac, for exciting the Indians to war, and
remunerating them for the blood which they might shed.

Although the country within which Colonel Clarke
had so successfully carried on operations, was considered
to be within the limits of Virginia; yet as it was occupied
by savages and those who were but little, if any, less hostile
than they; and being so remote from her settlements,
Virginia had as yet exercised no act of jurisdiction over
it. But as it now belonged to her, by conquest as well as
charter, the General Assembly created it into a distinct
county, to be called Illinois; a temporary government was
likewise established in it, and a regiment of infantry and
a troop of cavalry, ordered to be enlisted for its defence,
and placed under the command of its intrepid and enterprising
conqueror.

The expedition directed under General McIntosh, was

not equally successful. The difficulty of raising, equipping,
and organizing, so large a force as was placed under
his command, at so great a distance from the populous
district of the state, caused the consumption of so much
time, that the season for carrying on effective operations
had well nigh passed before he was prepared to commence
his march. Anxious however, to achieve as much as could
then be effected for the security of the frontier, he penetrated
the enemy's country, as far as Tuscarawa, when it
was resolved to build and garrison a fort, and delay farther
operations 'till the ensuing spring. Fort Laurens was accordingly
erected on the banks of the Tuscarawa, a garrison
of one hundred and fifty men, under the command of
Colonel John Gibson, left for its preservation, and the main
army returned to Fort Pitt.