ALLEGHANY.
Alleghany was formed in 1822, from Bath, Bottetourt, and
Monroe. Its mean length is twenty-six, mean breadth twenty
miles. Most of this county is a high mountain valley, drained by
the head waters of the James. The main Alleghany chain forms
its boundary on the west; Peter's mountain and Warm Spring
mountain divide the county into two nearly equal parts, having only
a narrow gap at Covington, and Middle Mountain and Rich Patch
form its southeastern boundary. The passage of Jackson's River
through Waite's mountain, is a sublime feature of the natural
scenery of the county. Population in 1830, 2,816; 1840, whites
2,142, slaves 547, free colored 60; total, 2,749.
Covington, the county-seat, lies one hundred and ninety-six miles
west of Richmond, at the head of the James River navigation, on
Jackson's River, fifteen above its confluence with the Cow-Pasture,
both of which by their union constitute the James. It contains, at
present, about fifty dwellings. At some future period, it is contemplated
that the James River Canal will be continued to here;
in which case, it will be the depôt between the land and water
communication in the chain of the James River and Kanawha
improvements, and will then command the trade of a large and
fertile region of country. Near Covington, a fort, called Fort
Young, was built in the early settlement of the country, as a protection
against the Indians.
Peter's Mountain derived its name from Peter Wright, a famous hunter at the time
of the first settlement, who was accustomed to hunt upon it. He resided near the
present site of Covington. Near the house of Mr. John Lewis, there is, on the roadside,
a large shelving rock, called Peter's Rock, where, says tradition, he sought shelter in a
snow storm. There he lay for several days, until the snow was four feet deep, when he
was obliged to eat his moccasins to prevent starving. He at length discovered and
shot a deer, which furnished him with food. He left, at his death, two sons, both of
whom emigrated to the west many years since.
There was an eccentric female, who lived in this section of the country towards the
latter part of the last century. Her name was Ann Bailey. She was born in Liverpool,
and had been the wife of an English soldier. She generally went by the cognomen
of Mad Ann. During the wars with the Indians, she very often acted as a
messenger, and conveyed letters from the fort, at Covington, to Point Pleasant. On
these occasions she was mounted on a favorite horse of great sagacity, and rode like a
man, with a rifle over her shoulder, and a tomahawk and a butcher's-knife in her belt.
At night she slept in the woods. Her custom was to let her horse go free, and then
walk some distance back on his trail, to escape being discovered by the Indians. After
the Indian wars she spent some time in hunting. She pursued and shot deer and bears
with the skill of a backwoodsman. She was a short, stout woman, very masculine and
coarse in her appearance, and seldom or never wore a gown, but usually had on a petticoat,
with a man's coat over it, and buckskin breeches. The services she rendered in
the wars with the Indians, endeared her to the people. Mad Ann, and her black pony
Liverpool, were always welcome at every house. Often, she gathered the honest, simple-hearted
mountaineers around, and related her adventures and trials, while the
sympathetic tear would course down their cheeks. She was profane, often became intoxicated,
and could box with the skill of one of the fancy. Mad Ann possessed
considerable intelligence, and could read and write. She died in Ohio many years since.
In 1764, a party of about fifty Indians came into this region, and then dividing into
two, one went towards the Roanoke and Catawba settlements, and the other in the direction
of Jackson's River, where each committed murders and depredations. Captain
Paul, who commanded at Fort Dinwiddie, went in pursuit of the latter party, and accidentally
came upon the other, about midnight, encamped on New River, at the mouth
of Indian Creek. In an instant after firing upon them, Captain Paul and his men
rushed forward to secure the wounded and prevent further escapes, as most of them had
ran. One of the party raised his tomahawk to strike, as he supposed, a squaw, who sat
composedly awaiting the result. As the tomahawk was descending, Captain Paul
threw himself between the assailant and his victim, and received the blow on his arm,
exclaiming: "It is a shame to hurt a woman, even a squaw!" She proved to be Mrs.
Catharine Gunn, an English woman, an acquaintance of Captain Paul, taken prisoner
on the Catawba a few days before, when her husband and two children were killed. On
being asked why she had not made known she was a prisoner, by crying out, she replied:
"I had as soon be killed as not—my husband is murdered—my children are
slain—my parents are dead. I have not a relation in America—every thing dear to me
here is gone—I have no wishes, no hopes, no fears—I would not have risen to my feet
to have saved my life."
