MORGAN'S RENCONTRE.
One of the most remarkable instances of personal heroism
in the history of the West, is that of the celebrated combat
between David Morgan and two Indians. Other instances,
exhibiting equal success with even greater disparity of numbers,
are upon record; but in none do we find more of true
courage, energy, and intrepidity, than in this unequal contest
between a man of advanced years and feeble health,
struggling with, and finally vanquishing both his powerful
adversaries. The settlements along the upper Monongahela,
which had suffered so severely during the preceding fall, had
not as yet been disturbed by the enemy, and many imagined
that there was to be no repetition of them, at least during the
present season. They however, still remained shut up in
their block-houses, and rarely ventured far without appropriate
means of defence. Of those who removed with their
families to Prickett's fort,
[18]
was David Morgan, one of the
earliest settlers on the frontier, and a man of great energy of
character, and of sterling worth. He was a near relative of
General Morgan of Revolutionary memory, and like that distinguished
officer, possessed, in a remarkable degree, courage
and capacity for almost any emergency.
At the time of which we speak, Mr. Morgan was upwards
of sixty years of age, and for some days had been slightly
indisposed. Early in April, he desired two of his children,
Stephen,[19]
sixteen years of age, and Sarah, about fourteen, to
feed the stock at his farm, distant about one mile, and on the
opposite side of the river. This he did, in consequence of
feeling worse that morning than usual. No Indians had yet
been seen in the neighborhood, and of course he considered
all perfectly safe.
As the weather was fine, the brother and sister concluded
to remain and prepare a piece of ground for melons. Soon
after they left the fort, Mr. Morgan lay down, and shortly
falling to sleep, dreamed that he saw the children walking
before him, scalped. This vision awoke him, and finding,
upon inquiry, that the children had not returned, he became
uneasy, and started immediately in hunt of them. Approaching
the premises, he beheld his children busily engaged in the
manner already indicated.
Seating himself upon a log close at hand, Morgan watched
his children for some time, when suddenly he saw emerge
from the house two Indians, who moved rapidly up toward
Stephen and his sister. Fearing to alarm the children, Morgan
cautiously warned them of their danger, and told them
to go at once to the fort. They instantly obeyed, and the
Indians, discovering their movements, gave their accustomed
whoop, and started in pursuit. Morgan, having hitherto
escaped their attention, now arose, and returning their shout,
caused the savages to seek behind trees instant protection.
Knowing that the chances of a fair fight were almost hopeless,
Morgan thought to escape by running, and so manage as
to keep the trees between himself and the enemy. In this,
however, he was mistaken; impaired health, and the infirmities
of age disabled him from keeping long beyond the reach
of the fleet and athletic warriors. Finding, after a run of
some two hundred yards, that the savages were rapidly gaining
on him, he determined to shoot one, and take his chance
with the other. Turning to fire, both Indians sprung behind
trees, and Morgan did the same; but finding the one he first
gained too small to protect his person, he quitted it and made
for another, which was reached in safety.
One of the Indians, hoping to get nearer his intended victim,
ran to the tree which Morgan had left, but finding it too
small, threw himself behind a log close at hand. This, however,
did not conceal him entirely, which Morgan noticing,
instantly fired, and shot the savage through the part exposed.
Feeling himself mortally wounded, with more than Spartan
fortitude, he drew his knife, and inflicted two deep stabs upon
his breast. To him death had no fears, save as dealt by the
hand of his white antagonist.
The heroic old man, having thus effectually disposed of one
of his pursuers, again resorted to flight. The chances were
now desperate, as the Indian had the double advantage of
tomahawk and rifle. Running fifty or sixty yards, he glanced
hurriedly over his shoulder, just in time to see the savage
ready to fire. Jumping to one side, the ball passed harmlessly
by, and the two now felt that the combat must be brought to
close quarters. With all the fury of his nature, the savage
rushed upon his adversary with loud yells and uplifted tomahawk.
Morgan prepared to meet him with his gun, but the
savage aimed a blow with his tomahawk, with such force and
effect as to knock the rifle from Morgan's grasp, and cut
two of the fingers from his left hand. They now clinched,
and the combat became equal, except the savage was the
younger and much more powerful of the two. Frantic at the
loss of his companion, and his own ill-success, he fought with
a desperation rarely known in single combat; Morgan, on
the other part, inspirited by the success which had thus far
attended him, nerved his arm, and strung every muscle to the
conflict, resolved to kill his combatant, or sell his own life as
dearly as possible. Our hero, in his younger days, had been
a most expert wrestler, and was thus enabled with ease to
throw the Indian; but the latter, more active and powerful,
readily turned him. With a yell of exultation, the savage
now held his adversary down, and began to feel for his knife.
Morgan saw the movement, and well knew all would be over
if the savage got possession of it.
The Indian was prevented getting the knife by a woman's
apron, which he had wrapped around his body in such a manner
as to confine the handle. Whilst endeavoring to extricate it,
Morgan got one of the Indian's thumbs between his teeth, and so
firmly did he hold it, and effectually grind it, that the poor wretch
was sadly disconcerted, and more than once screamed with
pain. Finally, he grasped his knife, but so close to the blade,
that Morgan noticing it, caught the end of the handle, and
drew it quickly through the Indian's hand, cutting it severely.
The savage was now literally hors de combat, and springing to
his feet, endeavored to get away; but the resolute Morgan, not
yet having done with him, held on to the thumb, until he had
inflicted a mortal thrust in the side of his enemy. Letting go,
the Indian sank almost lifeless to the ground, and Morgan
made his way to the fort. Before reaching the river, he overtook
his children. After hearing his adventure, a party of
men left the fort, and proceeded to the place of conflict. On
reaching the spot, nothing was to be seen of the wounded
Indian; but his trail of blood indicated the place of his
concealment. The poor creature had taken the knife from
his side, bound up the wound with the apron already alluded
to, and as the whites approached him, he feelingly accosted
them, with "How do do, broder?" What followed, we would,
for the sake of our common humanity, fain screen; but, as the
facts have often been published, and the whole affair has
become matter of history, we can see no propriety in withholding
any part now.
"How do do, broder?" met with no fraternal response from
the party who discovered his retreat. He was immediately
dispatched; and not satisfied with that, himself and companion
were both scalped, and then flayed. Their skins were afterwards
tanned and made into shot-pouches, belts, razor-straps,
&c. Human nature revolts at the contemplation of such acts
of wanton barbarity. The impression has hitherto prevailed
that Morgan was one of this party. This, we are assured, is
not the fact. He was too much exhausted from loss of blood,
and the severe personal conflict, to go out with the men, and
of course could not have participated.
