University of Virginia Library

DEPREDATIONS EAST OF THE MOUNTAINS.

Although this part of our work is designed chiefly to embrace
the operations, by and against, the western Indians
during the twenty years immediately preceding the treaty of
Greenville, still we cannot pass without some notice those
which occurred prior to the peace of November, 1774. Premising
this much, we will turn back the pages of history and
briefly glance at some of the bolder acts in the bloody drama,
performed on the then frontier of Virginia.

Allusion has already been made to the irruptions of savages
in the Valley of Virginia, during the years following Braddock's
defeat. One of their earliest acts was the captivity
of a Mrs. Neff on the south-branch of the Wappatomaca.
Having secured their prisoner and helped themselves to some
plunder, the savages (fourteen in number) left for their homes,
by way of Fort Pleasant.[1] On the second night, they reached

the vicinity of the fort, and leaving Mrs. Neff in the care of
an old Indian, the warriors separated into two parties, that
they might better watch the fort.

"At a late hour in the night, Mrs. Neff discovering that
her guard was pretty soundly asleep, ran off. The old fellow
very soon awoke, fired off his gun, and raised a yell. Mrs.
N. ran between the two parties of Indians, got safe into Fort
Pleasant, and gave notice where the enemy were encamped.
A small party the same evening came from another fort a few
miles above, and joined their friends in Fort Pleasant. After
the escape of Mrs. N., the Indians collected into a deep glen,
near the fort. Early the next morning, sixteen men, well
mounted and armed, left the fort with a view to attack the
Indians. They soon discovered their encampment by the
smoke of their fire. The whites divided themselves into two
parties, intending to enclose the Indians, but unfortunately,
a small dog which followed them, starting a rabbit, alarmed
the Indians, upon which they cautiously moved off, passed
between the two parties of white men unobserved, took a position
between them and their horses, and opened a most destructive
fire. The whites returned the fire with great firmness
and bravery, and a desperate and bloody conflict ensued.
Seven of the whites fell dead, and four were wounded. The
others retreated to the fort. Three Indians fell in this battle,
and several were wounded. The victors secured the white
men's horses, and took them off. This was called the battle
of the Trough.

Just before the above action commenced, Mr. Vanmeter,
an old man, mounted his horse, rode upon a high ridge, and
witnessed the battle. He returned with all speed to the fort,
and gave notice of the defeat."

These repeated depredations of the savages, induced Gov.
Dinwiddie, early in 1756, to order an expedition against the
Indian towns on the Ohio. Maj. Andrew Lewis was appointed
to command this expedition, and directed to proceed against
the Shawanese villages near the mouth of the Great Kanawha.

Major Lewis led his men through great peril and suffering
within a few miles of the Ohio, when a message ordering a
return of the expedition reached him. The whole party suffered
intensely during this march, and once were reduced to
the necessity of cutting their buffalo skins into tugs and
eating them; hence the name of Tug river.[2]

The Indians having noticed the advance and return of this
expedition, naturally supposed that it was deemed unsafe to
penetrate the Indian country with a force so inadequate to
the duty before them; and thus elated, pushed their acts of
depredation with increased fury. They struck across the
mountains by way of the Kanawha, Monongahela, Cheat, &c.,
carrying death to many a helpless family, and spreading alarm
throughout the entire valley.

In the summer of 1757, a body of Shawanese, led on by
their celebrated chief Kill-buck, crossed the Alleghanies and
committed various acts of depredation. Some thirty or forty
of this party appeared in the neighborhood of Edward's fort
and killed two men at a mill, whom they scalped, and then
made off, taking with them a quantity of meal. Information
having been conveyed to the fort, forty men, under Captain
Mercer, started in pursuit of the murderers. The Indians,
expecting this, concealed themselves beneath a bank and
awaited the approach of the whites. As a decoy, they had
strewn along the path some of the meal taken from the mill.
Mercer's party discovering this, supposed the Indians were
making a speedy retreat, and, not apprized of their strength,

moved on at a brisk step, until the whole party were drawn
immediately over the line of Indians beneath the bank, when
the latter opened a most destructive fire upon them, sixteen
falling dead at the first discharge. The others attempting to
save themselves by flight, were pursued and slaughtered in
every direction, until, out of the forty, but six escaped to the
fort. One poor fellow, who ran up the side of the mountain,
was fired at by an Indian; the ball penetrated just above his
heel, ranged up his leg, shivering the bones, and lodged a
little below his knee; he slipped under the lap of a fallen
tree and there hid himself, and lay in that situation for two
days and nights before he was discovered by his friends. It
was that length of time before the people at the fort would
venture out to collect and bury the dead. This wounded man
recovered, and lived many years after.

Some time afterwards, the Indians, in much greater force,
and aided, it was believed, by several whites, determined to
carry this fort by storm. The garrison had been considerably
reinforced; among others, by the late Gen. Daniel Morgan,
then a young man. The Indians made the assault with great
boldness; but on this occasion they met with a sad reverse of
fortune. The garrison sallied out, and a desperate battle
ensued. The assailants were defeated with great slaughter,
while the whites lost comparatively but few men.[3]

These constant inroads of the savages induced the people
to erect suitable forts at convenient points. Many of
these little stockades arose along the Valley, which greatly
served to protect the inhabitants and restrain the savages.
Of these were Ashby's, on Patterson creek, near the present
town of Frankfort; Hedges, on the road from Martinsburg
to Bath; Riddel's and Wardon's, on Lost river; George's,
near Petersburg, &c.

During the following year, (1758,) the savages again re-appeared

east of the mountains, and spread desolation and
terror wherever they went. These visitations, doubtless for
better security, were generally made in large parties, and
their presence could not but create alarm among the sparsely
populated settlements. The following account of one of these
marauding parties, we take from the interesting local history
of that region. A party of about fifty Indians, penetrated the
neighborhood of Mill creek, about nine miles south of Woodstock.
This was pretty thickly settled; and among other
houses, George Painter had erected a large log one, with a
good sized cellar. On the alarm being given, the neighboring
people took refuge in this house. Late in the afternoon they
were attacked. Mr. Painter, attempting to fly, had three
balls shot through his body, and fell dead, when the others
surrendered. The Indians dragged the dead body back to
the house, threw it in, plundered the house of what they
chose, and then set fire to it. While the house was in flames,
consuming the body of Mr. Painter, they forced from the
arms of their mothers four infant children, hung them up in
trees, shot them in savage sport, and left them hanging.
They then set fire to a stable containing sheep and calves.
After these atrocities they moved off with forty-eight prisoners;
among whom were Mrs. Painter, five of her daughters,
and one of her sons; a Mrs. Smith and several of her children;
a Mr. Fisher and several of his children, among them a
lad of twelve or thirteen years old, a fine well grown boy, and
remarkably fleshy. This little fellow, it will presently be seen,
was destined to be the victim of savage cruelty.

Two of Painter's sons, and a young man by the name of
Jacob Myers, escaped. One of the Painters, with Myers,
ran over that night to Powell's fort, a distance of at least
fifteen miles, and to Keller's fort, for aid. A small party of
men set out early the next morning, well mounted and armed.
They reached Mr. Painter's early in the day; but on learning
the strength of the Indians, they declined going in pursuit,
as they were too weak to follow.

After six days' travel they reached their villages, and held
a council, when it was determined to sacrifice their helpless
prisoner, Jacob Fisher. They first ordered him to collect a
quantity of dry wood. The poor little fellow shuddered,
burst into tears, and told his father they intended to burn
him. His father replied, "I hope not;" and advised him to
obey. When he had collected a sufficient quantity of wood
to answer their purpose, they cleared and smoothed a ring
around a sapling, to which they tied him by one hand, then
formed a trail of wood around the tree, and set it on fire.
The poor boy was then compelled to run round in this ring of
fire until his rope wound him up to the sapling, and then back
until he came in contact with the flame, whilst his infernal
tormentors were drinking, singing, and dancing around him,
with "horrid joy." This was continued for several hours;
during which time the wretches became beastly drunk, and
as they fell to the ground, their squaws would keep up the
fire. With long sharp poles, they pierced the body of their
victim whenever he flagged, until the poor and helpless boy
fell and expired with the most excruciating torments, whilst
his father and brothers were compelled to be witnesses of the
heart-rending tragedy.

After an absence of about three years, Mrs. Painter, with
her son and two of her daughters; Mrs. Smith, who had the
honor, if it could be so deemed, of presenting her husband
with an Indian son,[4] by a distinguished chief; Fisher, and his
surviving sons, with several others, returned home. Three of
Mrs. Painter's daughters remained with the Indians; one of
whom, after many years captivity, returned. The others
married and spent their lives with their swarthy companions.

In connection with this, we may state, that a most remarkable

feature of the Indian life, was the peculiar power of
fascination which it exercised over those subjected to its
influence. Other instances are upon record which show that
this attachment to the allurements of savage life, was often
astonishing. The following will serve as an illustration.

About the year 1758, a man by the name of John Stone,
near what is called the White House, in the Hawksbill settlement,
was killed by Indians. Stone's wife, with her infant
child and a son about seven or eight years old, and George
Grandstaff, a youth of sixteen years old, were taken prisoners.
On the south-branch Mountain, the Indians murdered Mrs.
Stone and her infant, but took the boy and Grandstaff to
their towns. Grandstaff remained about three years a prisoner.
The boy Stone grew up with the Indians, came home, and
after obtaining possession of his father's property, sold it, got
the money, returned to the Indians and was never heard of
again.