 | [62] CHAPTER III. Chronicles of border warfare, or, A history of the settlement by the whites, of north-western Virginia, and of the Indian wars and massacres in that section of the state |  |
[62] CHAPTER III.
The destruction of the Roanoke settlement in the
spring of 1757, by a party of Shawanees, gave rise to the
campaign, which was called by the old settlers the "Sandy
creek voyage." To avenge this outrage, Governor Dinwiddie
ordered out a company of regulars (taken chiefly
from the garrison at Fort Dinwiddie, on Jackson's river)
under the command of Capt. Audley Paul; a company of
minute-men from Boutetourt, under the command of Capt.
William Preston; and two companies from Augusta, under
Captains John Alexander[1]
and William Hogg. In
Capt. Alexander's company, John M'Nutt, afterwards
governor of Nova Scotia, was a subaltern. The whole
were placed under the command of Andrew Lewis.[2]
Beside the chastisement of the Indians, the expedition
had for its object, the establishment of a military post at
the mouth of the Great Sandy. This would have enabled
them, not only to maintain a constant watch over marauding
parties of Indians from that quarter; but to check the
communication between them and the post at Galliopolis;
and thus counteract the influence which the French there
had obtained over them.[3]
The different companies detailed upon the Shawanee
expedition, were required to rendezvous on the Roanoke,
near to the present town of Salem in Bottetourt, where
Col. Lewis was then posted. The company commanded
by Capt. Hogg failed to attend at the appointed time;
and Col. Lewis after delaying a week for its arrival,
marched forward, expecting to be speedily overtaken by it.
To avoid an early discovery by the Indians, which
would have been the consequence of their taking the more
public route by the Great Kenhawa; and that they might
fall upon the Indians towns in the valley of the Scioto,
without being interrupted or seen by the French at Galliopolis,
they took the route by the way of New river and
Sandy. Crossing New river below the Horse-shoe, they
descended it to the mouth of Wolf creek; and ascending
this to its source, passed over to the head of Bluestone
river; where they delayed another week awaiting the arrival
of Capt. Hogg and his company.[4]
—They then
marched to the head of the north fork of Sandy, and continued
down it to the great Burning Spring, where they
had been conveyed [63] on pack horses, were entirely exhausted.
Two buffaloes, killed just above the spring, were
also eaten while the army continued here; and their hides
were hung upon a beech tree. After this their subsistence
was procured exclusively by hunting.
The army then resumed their march; and in a few
days after, it was overtaken by a runner with the intelligence
that Capt. Hogg and his company were only a
day's march in the rear. Col. Lewis again halted; and
the day after he was overtaken by Hogg, he was likewise
overtaken by an express from Francis Fauquier[5]
with orders for the army to return home; and for the disbanding
of all the troops except Capt. Paul's regulars,[6]
who were to return to Fort Dinwiddie.
This was one of the first of Gov. Fauquier's official acts;
and it was far from endearing him to the inhabitants west
of the Blue ridge. They had the utmost confidence in
the courage and good conduct of Col. Lewis, and of the
officers and men under his command—they did not for an
instant doubt the success of the expedition, and looked
forward with much satisfaction, to their consequent exemption
in a great degree, from future attacks from the
Indians. It was not therefore without considerable regret,
that they heard of their countermanding orders.
Nor were they received by Lewis and his men with
very different feelings. They had endured much during
their march, from the inclemency of the weather; more
from the want of provisions—They had borne these hardships
without repining; anticipating a chastisement of the
Indians, and the deriving of an abundant supply of provisions
from their conquered towns—They had arrived
within ten miles of the Ohio river, and could not witness
the blasting of their expectations, without murmuring.
A council of war was held—disappointment and indignation
officers were in favor of proceeding to the Ohio river, under
the expectation that they might fall in with some
of the enemy—they marched to the river and encamped
two nights on its banks. Discovering nothing of an
enemy, they then turned to retrace their steps through
pathless mountains, a distance of three hundred miles, in
the midst of winter and without provisions.
The reasons assigned by the friends of Gov. Fauquier,
for the issuing of those orders were, that the force detailed
by Gov. Dinwiddie, was not sufficient to render secure
an establishment at the contemplated point—near the Indian
towns on the Scioto—within a few days journey of
several thousand warriors on the Miami—in the vicinity
of the hostile post at Galliopolis and so remote from the
settled part of Virginia, that they could not be furnished
with assistance, and supplied with provisions and military
stores, without incurring an expenditure, both of blood
and money, beyond what the colony could spare, for the
accomplishment of that object.
Had Capt. Hogg with his company, been at the place
of rendezvous at the appointed time, the countermanding orders
of the governor [64] could not have reached the army,
until it had penetrated the enemy's country. What might
have been its fate, it is impossible to say—the bravery of
the troops—their familiar acquaintance with the Indian
mode of warfare—their confidence in the officers and the
experience of many of them, seemed to give every assurance
of success—While the unfortunate result of many
subsequent expeditions of a similar nature, would induce
the opinion that the governor's apprehensions were perhaps
prudent and well founded. That the army would
soon have had to encounter the enemy, there can be no
doubt; for although not an Indian had been seen, yet it
seems probable from after circumstances, that it had been
discovered and watched by them previous to its return.
On the second night of their march homeward, while
encamped at the Great falls, some of Hogg's men went
out on the hills to hunt turkeys, and fell in with a party
of Indians, painted as for war. As soon as they saw that
were killed—the fire was returned and a Shawanee warrior
was wounded and taken prisoner. The remaining Indians,
yelling their war whoop, fled down the river.
Many of the whites, thinking that so small a party of
Indians would not have pursued the army alone, were of
opinion that it was only an advanced scout of a large body
of the enemy, who were following them: the wounded Indian
refused to give any information of their number or
object. A council of war was convoked; and much diversity
of opinion prevailed at the board. It was proposed
by Capt. Paul to cross the Ohio river, invade the towns on
the Scioto, and burn them, or perish in the attempt.[7]
The
proposition was supported by Lieut. M'Nutt, but overruled;
and the officers, deeming it right to act in conformity
with the governor's orders, determined on pursuing
their way home. Orders were then given that no
more guns should be fired, and no fires kindled in camp,
as their safe return depended very much on silence and
secrecy.
An obedience to this order, produced a very considerable
degree of suffering, as well from extreme cold as from
hunger. The pack horses, which were no longer serviceable
(having no provisions to transport) and some of which
had given out for want of provender, were killed and
eaten. When the army arrived at the Burning spring,
the buffalo hides, which had been left there on their way
down, were cut into tuggs, or long thongs, and eaten by
the troops, after having been exposed to the heat produced
by the flame from the spring.—Hence they called it Tugg
river—a name by which it is still known. After this the
army subsisted for a while on beachnuts; but a deep snow
were removed.
About thirty men then detached themselves from the
main body, to hunt their way home. Several of them
were known to have perished from cold and hunger—
others were lost and never afterwards [65] heard of; as
they had separated into small parties, the more certainly
to find game on which to live. The main body of the
army was conducted home by Col. Lewis, after much suffering—the
strings of their mocasons, the belts of their
hunting shirts, and the flaps of their shot pouches, having
been all the food which they had eaten for some days.[8]
A journal of this campaign was kept by Lieut. M'Nutt,
a gentleman of liberal education and fine mind. On his return
to Williamsburg he presented it to Governor Fauquier
by whom it was deposited in the executive archives. In
this journal Col. Lewis was censured for not having proceeded
directly to the Scioto towns; and for imposing on
the army the restrictions, as to fire and shooting, which
have been mentioned.—This produced an altercation between
Lewis and M'Nutt, which was terminated by a personal
encounter.[9]
During the continuance of this war, many depredations
were committed by hostile Indians, along the whole
extent of the Virginia frontier. Individuals, leaving the
forts on any occasion, scarcely ever returned; but were,
almost always, intercepted by Indians, who were constantly
prowling along the border settlements, for purposes of
kind, and indeed of many of a more important character,
no longer exist in the memory of man—they died with
them who were contemporaneous with the happening of
them.[10] On one occasion however, such was the extent of
savage duplicity, and such, and so full of horror, the
catastrophe resulting from misplaced confidence, that the
events which marked it, still live in the recollection of the
descendants of some of those, who suffered on the theatre
of treachery and blood.
On the south fork of the South Branch of Potomac, in,
what is now, the county of Pendleton, was the fort of
Capt. Sivert.[11]
In this fort, the inhabitants of what was
the tempest of savage ferocity; and at the time the
Indians appeared before [66] it, there were contained
within its walls between thirty and forty persons of both
sexes and of different ages. Among them was Mr. Dyer,
(the father of Col. Dyer now of Pendleton) and his family.
On the morning of the fatal day, Col. Dyer and his sister
left the fort for the accomplishment of some object, and
although no Indians had been seen there for some time,
yet did they not proceed far, before they came in view of
a party of forty or fifty Shawanees, going directly towards
the fort. Alarmed for their own safety, as well as for the
safety of their friends, the brother and sister endeavored
by a hasty flight to reach the gate and gain admittance into
the garrison; but before they could effect this, they were
overtaken and made captives.
The Indians rushed immediately to the fort and commenced
a furious assault on it. Capt. Sivert prevailed,
(not without much opposition,) on the besieged, to forbear
firing 'till he should endeavor to negotiate with, and buy
off the enemy. With this view, and under the protection
of a flag he went out, and soon succeeded in making the
wished for arrangement. When he returned, the gates
were thrown open, and the enemy admitted.
No sooner had the money and other articles, stipulated
bloody tragedy was begun to be acted. Arranging the
inmates of the fort, in two rows, with a space of about
ten feet between them, two Indians were selected; who
taking each his station at the head of a row, with their
tomahawks most cruelly murdered almost every white
person in the fort; some few, whom caprice or some other
cause, induced them to spare, were carried into captivity,
—such articles as could be well carried away were taken
off by the Indians; the remainder was consumed, with the
fort, by fire.
The course pursued by Capt. Sivert, has been supposed
to have been dictated by timidity and an ill founded apprehension
of danger from the attack. It is certain that
strong opposition was made to it by many; and it has
been said that his own son raised his rifle to shoot him,
when he ordered the gates to be thrown open; and was
only prevented from executing his purpose, by the interference
of some near to him. Capt. Sivert was also supported
by many, in the plan which he proposed to rid the
fort of its assailants: it was known to be weak, and
incapable of withstanding a vigorous onset; and [67] its
garrison was illy supplied with the munitions of war.
Experience might have taught them, however, the futility
of any measure of security, founded in a reliance on Indian
faith, in time of hostility; and in deep and bitter
anguish, they were made to feel its realization in the present
instance.
In the summer of 1761, about sixty Shawanee warriors
penetrated the settlements on James river. To avoid
the fort at the mouth of Looney's creek, on this river,
they passed through Bowen's gap in Purgatory mountain,
in the night; and ascending Purgatory creek, killed
Thomas Perry, Joseph Dennis and his child and made
prisoner his wife, Hannah Dennis. They then proceeded
to the house of Robert Renix, where they captured Mrs.
Renix, (a daughter of Sampson Archer) and her five children,
William, Robert, Thomas, Joshua and Betsy—Mr.
Renix not being at home. They then went to the house
of Thomas Smith, where Renix was; and shot and scalped
Jew, a white servant girl.[12]
William and Audley Maxwell, and George Matthews,
(afterwards governor of Georgia,) were then going to
Smith's house; and hearing the report of the guns, supposed
that there was a shooting match. But when they
rode to the front of the house and saw the dead bodies of
Smith and Renix lying in the yard, they discovered their
mistake; and contemplating for a moment the awful spectacle,
wheeled to ride back. At this instant several guns
were fired at them; fortunately without doing any execution,
except the cutting off the club of Mr. Matthews' cue.
The door of the house was then suddenly opened; the
Indians rushed out and raising the war cry, several of
them fired—Audley Maxwell was slightly wounded in
the arm.
It appeared afterwards, that the Indians had seen
Matthews and the Maxwells coming; and that some of
them had crowded into the house, while the others with
the prisoners went to the north side of it, and concealed
themselves behind some fallen timber. Mrs. Renix, after
she was restored to her friends in 1766, stated that she
was sitting tied, in the midst of four Indians, who laying
their guns on a log, took deliberate aim at Matthews; the
others firing at the Maxwells—The sudden wheeling of
their horses no doubt saved the lives of all three.
The Indians then divided, and twenty of them taking
the [68] prisoners, the plunder and some horses which
they had stolen, set off by the way of Jackson's river, for
with the ostensible view of committing farther depredations.
But Matthews and the Maxwells had sounded the
alarm, and the whole settlement were soon collected at
Paul's stockade fort, at the Big spring near to Springfield.
Here the women and children were left to be defended by
Audley Maxwell and five other men; while the others,
forming a party of twenty-two, with George Matthews at
their head, set out in quest of the enemy.
The Indians were soon overtaken, and after a severe
engagement, were forced to give ground. Matthews and
his party followed in pursuit, as far as Purgatory creek;
but the night being very dark in consequence of a continued
rain, the fugitives effected an escape; and overtaking
their comrades with the prisoners and plunder, on
the next evening, at the forks of the James and Cowpasture
rivers, proceeded to Ohio without further molestation.
When Matthews and his men, on the morning succeeding
the engagement, returned to the field of battle,
they found nine Indians dead; whom they buried on the
spot. Benjamin Smith, Thomas Maury and the father of
Sally Jew, were the only persons of Matthews' party,
who were killed—these, together with those who had been
murdered on the preceding day, were buried near the fork
of a branch, in (what is now) the meadow of Thomas
Cross sr.
In Boquet's treaty with the Ohio Indians, it was stipulated
that the whites detained by them in captivity were
to be brought in and redeemed. In compliance with this
stipulation, Mrs. Renix was brought to Staunton in 1767
and ransomed, together with two of her sons, William,
the late Col. Renix of Greenbrier, and Robert, also of
Greenbrier—Betsy, her daughter, had died on the Miami.
Thomas returned in 1783, but soon after removed and settled,
on the Scioto, near Chilicothe. Joshua never came
back; he took an Indian wife and became a Chief among
the Miamies—he amassed a considerable fortune and died
near Detroit in 1810.
Hannah Dennis was separated from the other captives,
their language; painted herself as they do; and in many
respects conformed to their manners and customs. She
was attentive to sick persons and was highly esteemed by
the Indians, as [69] one well skilled in the art of curing
diseases. Finding them very superstitious and believers
in necromancy; she professed witchcraft, and affected to
be a prophetess. In this manner she conducted herself,
'till she became so great a favorite with them, that they
gave her full liberty and honored her as a queen. Notwithstanding
this, Mrs. Dennis was always determined to
effect her escape, when a favorable opportunity should
occur; and having remained so long with them, apparently
well satisfied, they ceased to entertain any suspicions
of such a design.
In June 1763, she left the Chilicothe towns, ostensibly
to procure herbs for medicinal purposes, (as she had before
frequently done,) but really to attempt an escape. As
she did not return that night, her intention became suspected;
and in the morning, some warriors were sent in
pursuit of her. In order to leave as little trail as possible,
she had crossed the Scioto river three times, and was just
getting over the fourth time 40 miles below the towns,
when she was discovered by her pursuers. They fired at
her across the river without effect; but in endeavoring to
make a rapid flight, she had one of her feet severely cut
by a sharp stone.
The Indians then rushed across the river to overtake
and catch her, but she eluded them by crawling into the
hollow limb, of a large fallen sycamore. They searched
around for her some time, frequently stepping on the log
which concealed her; and encamped near it that night.
On the next day they went on to the Ohio river, but finding
no trace of her, they returned home.
Mrs. Dennis remained at that place three days, doctoring
the Ohio river, at the mouth of Great Kenhawa, on a log
of driftwood, travelling only during the night, for fear of
discovery—She subsisted on roots, herbs, green grapes,
wild cherries and river muscles—and entirely exhausted
by fatigue and hunger, sat down by the side of Greenbrier
river, with no expectation of ever proceeding farther.
In this situation she was found by Thomas Athol and
three others from Clendennin's settlement, which she had
passed without knowing it. She had been then upwards
of twenty days on her disconsolate journey, alone, on
foot—but 'till then, cheered with the hope of again being
with her friends.
She was taken back to Clendennin's, where they
kindly [70] ministered to her, 'till she became so far invigorated,
as to travel on horseback with an escort, to Fort
Young on Jackson's river; from whence she was carried
home to her relations.
In the course of a few days after Hannah Dennis had
gone from Clendennins, a party of about sixty warriors
came to the settlement on Muddy creek, in the county of
Greenbrier. That region of country then contained no
inhabitants, but those on Muddy creek, and in the Levels;
and these are believed to have consisted of at least one
hundred souls. The Indians came apparently as friends,
and the French war having been terminated by the treaty
of the preceding spring, the whites did not for an instant
doubt their sincerity. They were entertained in
small parties at different houses, and every civility and act
of kindness, which the new settlers could proffer, were extended
to them. In a moment of the most perfect confidence
in the innocense of their intentions, the Indians
rose on them and tomahawked and scalped all, save a few
women and children of whom they made prisoners.
After the perpetration of this most barbarous and
bloody outrage, the Indians (excepting some few who took
charge of the prisoners) proceeded to the settlement in
the Levels. Here, as at Muddy creek, they disguised
their horrid purpose, and wearing the mask of friendship,
This gentleman had just returned from a successful hunt,
and brought home three fine elks—these and the novelty
of being with friendly Indians, soon drew the whole settlement
to his house. Here too the Indians were well
entertained and feasted on the fruit of Clendennin's hunt,
and every other article of provision which was there, and
could minister to their gratification. An old woman, who
was of the party, having a very sore leg and having understood
that Indians could perform a cure of any ulcer,
shewed it to one near her; and asked if he could heal it
—The inhuman monster raised his tomahawk and buried
it in her head. This seemed to be the signal of a general
massacre and promptly was it obeyed—nearly every man of
the settlement was killed and the women and children
taken captive.
While this tragedy was acting, a negro woman, who
was [71] endeavoring to escape, was followed by her crying
child.—To save it from savage butchery, she turned
round and murdered it herself.
Mrs. Clendennin, driven to despair by the cruel and
unprovoked murder of her husband and friends, and the
spoilation and destruction of all their property, boldly
charged the Indians with perfidy and treachery; and alleged
that cowards only could act with such duplicity.
The bloody scalp of her husband was thrown in her face
—the tomahawk was raised over her head; but she did
not cease to revile them. In going over Keeny's knot on
the next day, the prisoners being in the centre, and the
Indians in the front and rear, she gave her infant child to
one of the women to hold for a while.—She then stepped
into the thicket unperceived, and made her escape. The
crying of the infant soon lead to a discovery of her flight
—one of the Indians observed that he could "bring the
cow to her calf," and taking the child by the heels, beat
out its brains against a tree.
Mrs. Clendennin returned that night to her home, a
distance of ten miles; and covering the body of her husband
field, lest she might be pursued and again taken prisoner.
While in the corn field, her mind was much agitated by
contending emotions; and the prospect of effecting an escape
to the settlements, seemed to her dreary and hopeless.
In a moment of despondency, she thought she beheld a
man, with the aspect of a murderer, standing near her;
and she became overwhelmed with fear. It was but the
creature of a sickly and terrified imagination; and when
her mind regained its proper tone, she resumed her flight
and reached the settlement in safety.[15]
These melancholy events occurring so immediately
after the escape of Hannah Dennis; and the unwillingness
of the Indians that she should be separated from them,
has induced the supposition that the party committing
those dreadful outrages were in pursuit of her. If such
were the fact, dearly were others made to pay the penalty
of her deliverance.
This and other incidents, similar in their result, satisfied
the whites that although the war had been terminated
on the part of the French; yet it was likely to be continued
with all its horrors, by their savage allies. This was
then, and has since been, attributed to the smothered hostility
of the French in [72] Canada and on the Ohio river;
and to the influence which they had acquired over the
Indians. This may have had its bearing on the event;
but from the known jealousy entertained by the Indians,
of the English Colonists; their apprehensions that they
would be dispossessed of the country, which they then held
(England claiming jurisdiction over it by virtue of the
treaty of Paris;) and their dissatisfaction at the terms on
which France had negotiated a peace, were in themselves
sufficient to induce hostilities on the part of the Indians.
Charity would incline to the belief that the continuance
of the war was rightly attributable to these causes—the
other reason assigned for it, supposing the existence of a
itself.
In October, 1764, about fifty Delaware and Mingo
warriors ascended the Great Sandy and came over on New
river, where they separated; and forming two parties, directed
their steps toward different settlements—one party
going toward Roanoke and Catawba—the other in the direction
of Jackson's river. They had not long passed,
when their trail was discovered by three men, (Swope,
Pack and Pitman) who were trapping on New river.
These men followed the trail till they came to where the
Indian party had divided; and judging from the routes
which had been taken, that their object was to visit the
Roanoke and Jackson's river settlements, they determined
on apprizing the inhabitants of their danger. Swope and
Pack set out for Roanoke and Pitman for Jackson's river.
But before they could accomplish their object, the Indians
had reached the settlements on the latter river, and on
Catawba.
The Party which came to Jackson's river, travelled
down Dunlap's creek and crossed James river, above Fort
Young, in the night and unnoticed; and going down this
river to William Carpenter's, where was a stockade fort
under the care of a Mr. Brown, they met Carpenter just
above his house and killed him. They immediately proceeded
to the house, and made prisoners of a son of Mr.
Carpenter, two sons of Mr. Brown[16]
[73] (all small children)
in the field at work. The Indians then dispoiled the house
and taking off some horses, commenced a precipitate retreat—fearing
discovery and pursuit.
When Carpenter was shot, the report of the gun was
heard by those at work in the field; and Brown carried
the alarm to Fort Young. In consequence of the weakness
of this fort, a messenger was despatched to Fort
Dinwiddie, with the intelligence. Capt. Paul (who still
commanded there,) immediately commenced a pursuit with
twenty of his men; and passing out at the head of Dunlap's
creek, descended Indian creek and New river to Piney
creek; without making any discovery of the enemy. On
Indian creek they met Pitman, who had been running all
the day and night before, to apprise the garrison at Fort
Young of the approach of the Indians. Pitman joined in
pursuit of the party who had killed Carpenter; but they,
apprehending that they would be followed, had escaped to
Ohio, by the way of Greenbrier and Kenhawa rivers.[17]
As Capt. Paul and his men were returning, they accidently
met with the other party of Indians, who had been
there. They were discovered about midnight, encamped
on the north bank of New river, opposite an island at the
mouth of Indian creek. Excepting some few who were
watching three prisoners, (whom they had taken on Catawba,
and who were sitting in the midst of them,) they
were lying around a small fire, wrapped in skins and blankets.
Paul's men not knowing that there were captives
among them, fired in the midst, killed three Indians, and
wounded several others, one of whom drowned himself to
preserve his scalp—the rest of the party fled hastily down
the river and escaped.
In an instant after the firing, Capt. Paul and his men
rushed forward to secure the wounded and prevent further
escapes. One of the foremost of his party seeing, as he
supposed, a squaw sitting composedly awaiting the result,
raised his tomahawk and just as it was descending, Capt.
Paul threw himself between the assailant and his victim;
and receiving the blow on his arm, exclaimed, "It is a
shame to hurt a woman, even a squaw." Recognising the
voice of Paul, the woman named him. She was Mrs.
Catharine Gunn, an English lady, who had come to the
country some years before; and who, previously to her
marriage, had lived in the family of Capt. Paul's father-in-law,
where she became acquainted with that gentleman—
She had been taken captive by the Indians, on the Catawba,
a few days before, when her husband and two only children
were killed by them. When questioned why she had
not cried out, or otherwise made known that she was a
white prisoner, 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 save my
life."
[74] When Capt. Paul came on the enemy's camp, he
silently posted his men in an advantageous situation for
doing execution, and made arrangements for a simultaneous
fire. To render this the more deadly and efficient,
they dropped on one knee, and were preparing to take deliberate
to his comrades, "Pull steady and send them all to hell."
This ill timed expression of anxious caution, gave the
enemy a moment's warning of their danger; and is the
reason why greater execution was not done.
The Indians had left all their guns, blankets and
plunder—these together with the three white captives,
were taken by Capt. Paul to Fort Dinwiddie.[18]
Father of Dr. Archibald Alexander, sometime president of Hampden
Sydney College in Virginia, and afterwards a professor at Princeton
in New Jersey.
Comment by L. C. D.—He was the grandfather of Dr. Alexander.
The attacks on the Roanoke settlement, mentioned by Withers, occurred
in June and July, 1755 (not the spring of 1757, as he states); that
on Greenbrier, in September following; and the expedition against the
Shawnees did not take place in 1757, but in February and March, 1756.
Diaries and other documents in the Wisconsin Historical Society's library
prove this. Dr. Draper estimated that Lewis's force was about 263 whites
and 130 Cherokees—418 in all. The several companies were officered
by Peter Hogg, John Smith, William Preston, Archibald Alexander,
Robert Breckenridge, Obadiah Woodson, John Montgomery, and one
Dunlap. Two of Dr. Thomas Walker's companions in his Kentucky
exploration of 1750, were in the expedition—Henry Lawless and Colby
Chew. Governor Dinwiddie had stipulated in his note to Washington,
in December, 1755, that either Col. Adam Stephen or Maj. Andrew
Lewis was to command. Washington having selected the latter, disspatched
him from Winchester about the middle of January, 1756, with
orders to hurry on the expedition. To the mismanagement of the
guides is attributed much of the blame for its failure. The interesting
Journals of Capt. William Preston and Lieut. Thomas Norton are in
the possession of the Wisconsin Historical Society.—R. G. T.
But Gallipolis was not settled until 1790, as has been previously
shown. Withers confounds the modern French town of Gallipolis,
whose residents were the sad victims of Indian outrages rather than the
abettors of them, with the old Shawnee town just below the mouth
of the Scioto (site of Alexandria. O.). This fur-trading center was a
village of log huts built by the French for the accommodation of their
Shawnee allies, and was a center of frontier disturbances.—R. G. T.
Preston's Journal does not lay much stress on Hogg's delay. Norton's
Journal, speaking of Hogg, says, "common soldiers were by him
scarcely treated with humanity," and he seems to have regularly overruled
and disobeyed Lewis. There was much rancor in camp, and Norton
writes of the Cherokee allies, "The conduct and concord that was
kept up among the Indians might shame us, for they were in general
quite unanimous and brotherly."—R. G. T.
This expedition was sent out under the auspices of Gov. Dinwiddie—Fauquier
did not become governor until 1758. No countermanding
orders were sent.—L. C. D.
Withers, deriving his information from Taylor's sketches, was misled
as to any intention of establishing a fort at the mouth of the
Kanawha; and also as to Paul's, or any one else's proposition to cross
the Ohio, and invade the Shawnee towns. The only aim was, to reach
the Upper Shawnee town.—L. C. D.
Comment by R. G. T.—"Upper Shawnee town" was an Indian village
at the mouth of Old Town Creek, emptying into the Ohio from the
north, 39 miles above the mouth of the Great Kanawha.
If such a journal ever existed, it passed into the hands of Gov.
Dinwiddie, or possibly to Gov. Fauquier; but no reference to it is found
among the Dinwiddie Papers, as published by the Virginia Historical Society;
nor in the Calendar of State Papers, published by the State of Virginia.
It is to be remarked, however, that few of the records of that
period have been preserved by that State.—L. C. D.
Shortly after, M'Nutt was appointed governor of Nova Scotia, where
he remained until the commencement of the American revolution. In
this contest he adhered to the cause of liberty, and joined his countrymen
in arms under Gen. Gates at Saratoga. He was afterwards known
as a meritorious officer in the brigade of Baron de Kalb, in the south—
he died in 1811, and was buried in the Falling Spring church yard, in
the forks of James river.
Preston's MS. Register of the persons of Augusta county, Va.,
killed, wounded, captured by the Indians, and of those who escaped, from
1754 to May, 1758, is in the Wisconsin Historical Society's library. It is
to be regretted that Col. Preston, whose opportunities were so good, did
not continue the Register till the end of the Indian wars. It is a most
valuable document as far as it goes, and supplies many dates and facts
hitherto involved in doubt and obscurity.—L. C. D.
Seybert's Fort was situated on the South Fork, twelve miles northeast
of Franklin, in Pendleton County. At the time of this invasion,
there was a fort located on the South Branch, garrisoned by Capt.
James Dunlap and a company of rangers from Augusta county. Preston's
Register states, that on the 27th of April, 1758, the fort at which
Capt. Dunlap was stationed, was attacked and captured, the captain
and twenty-two others killed; and, the next day, the same party, no
doubt, attacked Seybert's Fort, killing Capt. Seybert and sixteen others,
while twenty-four others were missing. Washington, at the time, placed
the number as "about sixty persons killed and missing."
A gazette account, published at Williamsburg, May 5th ensuing,
says: "The Indians lately took and burnt two forts, where were stationed
one of our ranging companies, forty of whom were killed and scalped,
and Lieut. Dunlap and nineteen missing."
Kercheval's History of the Valley gives some further particulars: That
Seybert's Fort was taken by surprise; that ten of the thirty persons
occupying it, were bound, taken outside; the others were placed on a
log and tomahawked. James Dyer, a lad of fourteen, was spared, taken
first to Logstown, and then to Chillicothe, and retained a year and ten
months, when as one of an Indian party he visited Fort Pitt, and managed
to evade his associates while there, and finally reached the settlements
in Pennsylvania, and two years later returned to the South Fork.
It is added by the same historian, as another tradition, that after the
fort had been invested two days, and two of the Indians had been killed,
the garrison agreed to surrender on condition of their lives being spared,
which was solemnly promised. That when the gate was opened, the
Indians rushed in with demoniac yells, the whites fled, but were retaken,
except one person; the massacre then took place, and ten were
carried off into captivity.
Still another tradition preserved by Kercheval, says the noted Delaware
chief, Killbuck, led the Indians. Seybert's son, a lad of fifteen,
exhibited great bravery in the defense of the fort. Killbuck called out
to Capt. Seybert, in English, to surrender, and their lives should be
spared; when young Seybert at this instant, aimed his loaded gun at
the chief, and the father seized it, and took it from him, saying they
could not successfully defend the place, and to save their lives should
surrender, confiding in Killbuck's assurances. Capt. Seybert was among
the first of those sacrificed. Young Seybert was among the prisoners,
and told the chief how near he came to killing him. "You young
rascal," laughingly replied Killbuck, "if you had killed me, you would
have saved the fort, for had I fallen, my warriors would have immediately
fled, and given up the siege in despair."—L. C. D.
The name is Renick. Robert Renick, who was killed on the occasion
referred to, was a man of character and influence in his day. His
name appears on Capt. John Smith's company roll of Augusta militia as
early as 1742; and four years later, he was lieutenant of a mounted
company of Augusta militia. Instead of 1761, the captivity of the Renick
family occurred July 25, 1757, as shown by the Preston Register,
which states that Renick and another were killed on that day—Mrs.
Renick and seven children, and a Mrs. Dennis, captured; and the same
day, at Craig's Creek, one man was killed and two wounded. The
Renick traditions state that Mrs. Renick had only five children when
taken; and one born after reaching the Indian towns; and corrects
some other statements not properly related in Withers's narrative of
the affair.—L. C. D.
In 1763-65, the great Shawnee village just below the mouth of the
Scioto (site of Alexandria, O.), was destroyed by floods. Some of the
tribesmen rebuilt their town on a higher bottom just above the mouth
(site of Portsmouth, O.), while others ascended the Scioto and built
successively Old and New Chillicothe.—R. G. T.
Further particulars of this captivity are in Royall's Sketches of History,
Life, and Manners in U. S. (New Haven, 1826), pp. 60-66.—R. G. T.
Carpenter's son (since Doctor Carpenter of Nicholas) came home
about fifteen years afterwards—Brown's youngest son, (the late Col.
Samuel Brown of Greenbrier) was brought home in 1769—the elder son
never returned. He took an Indian wife, became wealthy and lived at
Brown's town in Michigan. He acted a conspicuous part in the late war
and died in 1815.
Comment by L. C. D.—Adam Brown, who was captured as mentioned
in the above text and note, was thought by his last surviving son, Adam
Brown, Jr., whom I visited in Kansas in 1868, to have been about six years
old when taken; and he died, he thought, about 1817, at about seventy-five
years of age. But these dates, and his probable age, do not agree; he
was either older when taken, or not so old at his death. The mother
was killed when the sons were captured, and the father and some others
of the family escaped. The late William Walker, an educated Wyandott,
and at one time territorial governor of Kansas, stated to me, that the
Wyandotts never made chiefs of white captives, but that they often attained,
by their merits, considerable consequence. It is, however, certain
that Abraham Kuhn, a white prisoner, grew up among the Wyandotts,
and, according to Heckewelder, became a war chief among them, and
signed the treaty at Big Beaver in 1785; and Adam Brown himself signed
the treaties of 1805 and 1808, and doubtless would have signed later ones
had he not sided with the British Wyandotts, and retired to Canada,
near Malden, where he died.
It is highly probable that this foray took place in 1763. During
this year, as features of the Pontiac uprising, bloody forays were made
on the more advanced settlements on Jackson, Greenbrier, and Calf Pasture
rivers, and several severe contests ensued between whites and
Indians. Captains Moffett and Phillips, with sixty rangers, were ambuscaded
with the loss of fifteen men. Col. Charles Lewis pursued the
savages with 150 volunteers raised in a single night, and on October 3rd
surprised them at the head of the South Fork of the Potomac, killing
twenty-one, with no white losses. The spoils of this victory, beside the
"five horses with all their trappings," sold for £250. This was the most
notable of the several skirmishes which took place on the Virginia frontier,
that year.—R. G. T.
Perhaps this affair is that related by Capt. William Christian, in
a letter dated Roanoke, Oct. 19th, 1763, as published in the gazettes of
that day—there are, at least, some suggestive similarities: "Being
joined by Capt. Hickenbotham, with twenty-five of the Amherst militia,
we marched on Tuesday last, to Winston's Meadows, where our scouts
informed us, that they had discovered a party of Indians about three
miles off. Night coming on, prevented our meeting them; and next
day, being rainy, made it difficult to follow their tracks. As they were
on their return, Capt. Hickenbotham marched to join Capt. Ingles down
New River. I, with nineteen men and my ensign, took a different
route in quest of them. We marched next day on their tracks until
two hours before sunset, when we heard some guns, and soon afterwards
discovered three large fires, which appeared to be on the bank of Turkey
Creek, where it empties into New river. Upon this we immediately advanced,
and found they were on an island. Being within gun-shot, we
fired on them, and loading again, forded the creek. The Indians, after
killing Jacob Kimberlain, a prisoner they had with them, made but a
slight resistence, and ran off. We found one Indian killed on the spot,
and, at a little distance, four blankets shot through, and very bloody.
We took all their bundles, four guns, eight tomahawks, and two mares.
They had several other horses, which being frightened by the firing,
ran off and were lost. The party consisted of upwards of twenty Indians.
By the tracks of blood, we imagined several of them were
wounded." This affair occurred Oct. 12th.—L. C. D.
| [62] CHAPTER III. Chronicles of border warfare, or, A history of the settlement by the whites, of north-western Virginia, and of the Indian wars and massacres in that section of the state | |