Indian Massacres at the Great Cove, Pennsylvania
"The Great Cove, Little Cove, and Canolloways," are mentioned frequently in government papers as far back as 1749, Indian traders having penetrated them at a much earlier date than that; yet they only figure prominently from that period. The Great Cove, now known as Morrison's, commences at Pattonsville, in Bedford county, and ends at Williamsburg, on the Juniata—bounded by Dunning's and Lock Mountains on the west, and Tussey Mountain on the east. For fertile limestone land, beautiful scenery, and splendid farms, few valleys in the State equal—none surpass—Morrison's Cove.
The earliest settlement of the cove was effected by Scotch-Irish, as early as 1749; but they shared the fate of the burnt-cabin folks when Secretary Peters answered the prayers of the Indians, and were expelled. Nothing daunted, however, many of them returned, and commenced improving; that, too, before the scions of "Father Onus" had acquired the right, title, and interest, to all and singular these fine lands, for the munificent sum of £400!
The greater portion of the beautiful valley, however, was almost unexplored until the Penns made the new purchase. About 1755, a colony of Dunkards took up the southern portion of the Cove, and their descendants hold possession of it to this day. They have unquestionably the finest farms, as well as the most fertile land, in the State; and right glad should we be to end their portion of the chapter by saying so, or even by adding that for thrift and economy they stand unsurpassed; but a sense of candor compels us to speak of them as they are,—"nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice."
In the first place, let it be understood that we are in no particle indebted to them for one iota of the blessings of government we enjoy. They are strict non-resistants; and in the predatory incursions of the French and Indians, in 1756-63, and, in fact, during all the savage warfare, they not only refused to take up arms to repel the savage marauders and prevent the inhuman slaughter of women and children, but they refused in the most positive manner to pay a dollar to support those who were willing to take up arms to defend their homes and their firesides, until wrung from them by the stern mandates of the law, from which there was no appeal.
They did the same thing when the Revolution broke out. There was a scarcity of men. Sixty able-bodied ones among them might readily have formed a cordon of frontier defence, which could have prevented many of the Indian massacres which took place between 1777 and 1780, and more especially among their own people in the Cove. But not a man would shoulder his rifle; they were non-resistants! They might, at least, have furnished money, for they always had an abundance of that, the hoarding of which appeared to be the sole aim and object of life with them. But, no; not a dollar! They occupied neutral ground, and wished to make no resistance. Again; they might have furnished supplies. And they did furnish supplies to those who were risking their lives to repel the invaders,—but it was only when the almighty dollar accompanied the demand.
After the massacre of thirty of them, in less than forty-eight hours, Colonel Piper, the lieutenant-colonel of Bedford county, made a stirring appeal to them. But it was of no avail; they were non-resistants, and evidently determined to remain such.
Of the peculiar religious tenets of these primitive people we do not profess to know any thing; hence our remarks are unbiassed. We are solely recording historical facts.
As a curious anomaly in the history of the present generation, it may be stated that, although they perform that part of the compact between government and a good citizen which relates to paying taxes, they never vote, neither can the most seductive persuasions of politicians bring them to the polls. Like their forefathers, they are non-resistant—producers, but non-consumers.
During the Indian wars of 1762, quite a number of murders were committed in the Cove, and many captives taken, but the particulars are too vague for history. Although we made every effort to ascertain the names of some of the massacred and the circumstances attending their massacre, we signally failed. It may, therefore, be supposed that, in the absence of any record, there is no other method of ascertaining facts extant.
During the Great Cove massacre, among others carried into captivity was the family of John Martin. This incursion was indeed a most formidable one, led by the kings Shingas and Beaver in person. How many were killed there is no living witness to tell; neither can we conjecture the number of prisoners taken. The following petition was sent by John Martin to council:—
August 13, 1762.
The Humble Petition of Your Most Obedient Servant Sheweth, Sir, may it pleas Your Excellancy, Hearing me in Your Clemancy a few Words. I, One of the Bereaved of my Wife and five Children, by Savage War at the Captivity of the Great Cove, after Many & Long Journeys, I Lately went to an Indian Town, viz., Tuskaroways, 150 miles Beyond Fort Pitts, & Entrested in Col. Bucquits & Col. Croghan's favor, So as to bear their Letters to King Beaver & Capt. Shingas, Desiring them to Give up One of my Daughters to me, Whiles I have Yet two Sons & One Other Daughter, if Alive, Among them—and after Seeing my Daughter with Shingas he Refused to Give her up, and after some Expostulating with him, but all in vain, he promised to Deliver her up with the Other Captives to yr Excellency.
Sir, yr Excellency's Most Humble Servt, Humbly & Passionately Beseeches Yr Beningn Compassion to interpose Yr Excellencies Beneficent influence in favor of Yr Excellencies Most Obedient & Dutiful Servt.
John Martin.
After the march of General Forbes from Raystown, and immediately preceding it, no Indian depredations were committed in the Cove up to the commencement of hostilities between the Colonies and Great Britain. The Indians in the French interest were constantly on the alert; and their spies prowling on the outskirts did not fail to report at head-quarters the arrival at Raystown of Colonel Boquet and his army, the formidable bearing and arms of which convinced the savages that it was prudent to keep within the bounds of the French power.
The first Indian depredations of the Revolution in the Juniata Valley were committed in November, 1777. A large body of Indians—not less than thirty—armed with British rifles, ammunition, tomahawks, scalping-knives, and all other murderous appliances they were capable of using, came into the settlement with the avowed intention of gathering scalps for His Britannic Majesty's officers at Detroit. Their coming was not unlooked-for, but the settlers were unprepared for them. The constant rumors afloat that a large body of savages, British, and tories, were coming, struck the people with so much panic that there was no effort made to give any such force as might come a warlike reception, but their energies were concentrated in measures of defence.
The first Indian depredators, or at least the greater portion of them, were seen at a camp-fire by a party of hunters; and if the proper exertions had been made to cut them off, few other outrages would have followed. The supposition is that there were two parties of about fifteen each, who met at or near Neff's Mill, in the Cove. On their way thither, the one party killed a man named Hammond, who resided along the Juniata, and the other party killed a man named Ullery, who was returning from Neff's Mill on horseback. They also took two children with them as prisoners.
The alarm was spread among the inhabitants, and they fled to the nearest forts with all despatch; and on this first expedition they would have had few scalps to grace their belts, had the Dunkards taken the advice of more sagacious people, and fled too; this, however, they would not do. They would follow but half of Cromwell's advice:—they were willing to put their "trust in God," but they would not "keep their powder dry." In short, it was a compound they did not use at all.
The savages swept down through the Cove with all the ferocity with which a pack of wolves would descend from the mountain upon a flock of sheep. Some few of the Dunkards, who evidently had a latent spark of love of life, hid themselves away; but by far the most of them stood by and witnessed the butchery of their wives and children, merely saying, "Gottes wille sei gethan." [3] How many Dunkard scalps they carried to Detroit cannot now be, and probably never has been, clearly ascertained,—not less than thirty, according to the best authority. In addition to this, they loaded themselves with plunder, stole a number of horses, and under cover of night the triumphant warriors marched bravely away.
Thomas Smith and George Woods, both, we believe, justices of the peace at the time, wrote to President Wharton as follows:—
November 27, 1777.
Gentlemen:—The present situation of this country is so truly deplorable that we should be inexcusable if we delayed a moment in acquainting you with it. An Indian war is now raging around us in its utmost fury. Before you went down they killed one man at Stony Creek; since that time they have killed five on the mountain, over against the heads of Dunning's Creek, killed or taken three at the Three Springs, wounded one, and killed some children by Frankstown; and had they not providentially been discovered in the night, and a party gone out and fired on them, they would, in all probability, have destroyed a great part of that settlement in a few hours. A small party went out into Morrison's Cove scouting, and unfortunately divided; the Indians discovered one division, and out of eight killed seven and wounded the other. In short, a day hardly passes without our hearing of some new murder; and if the people continue only a week longer to fly as they have done for a week past, Cumberland county will be a frontier. From Morrison's, Crayl's, and Friend's Coves, Dunning's Creek, and one-half of the Glades, they are fled or forted; and, for all the defence that can be made here, the Indians may do almost what they please. We keep out ranging-parties, in which we go out by turns; but all that we can do in that way is but weak and ineffectual for our defence, because one-half of the people are fled: those that remain are too busily employed in putting their families and the little of their effects that they can save and take into some place of safety, so that the whole burden falls upon a few of the frontier inhabitants, for those who are at a distance from danger have not as yet offered us any assistance. We are far from blaming the officers of the militia because they have not ordered them out, for if they had, they really can be of little or no service, not only for the foregoing reasons, but also for these:—Not one man in ten of them is armed. If they were armed, you are sensible, take the country through, there is not one fourth man that is fit to go against Indians, and it might often happen that in a whole class there might not be a single person who is acquainted with the Indians' ways of the woods; and if there should be a few good men, and the rest unfit for that service, those who are fit to take the Indians in their own way could not act with the same resolution and spirit as if they were sure of being properly supported by men like themselves. The consequence would be that the Indians, after gaining an advantage over them, would become much more daring and fearless, and drive all before them. A small number of select men would be of more real service to guard the frontiers than six times that number of people unused to arms or the woods. It is not for us to dictate what steps ought to be taken, but some steps ought to be taken without the loss of an hour. The safety of your country, of your families, of your property, will, we are convinced, urge you to do every thing in your power to put the frontiers in some state of defence. Suppose there were orders given to raise about one hundred rangers, under the command of spirited officers, who were well acquainted with the woods and the Indians and could take them in their own way. They could be raised instantly, and we are informed there are a great number of rifles lying in Carlisle useless, although the back country is suffering for the want of arms. It was a fatal step that was taken last winter in leaving so many guns when the militia came from camp; about this place, especially, and all the country near it, they are remarkably distressed for the want of guns, for when the men were raised for the army you know we procured every gun that we could for their use. The country reflect hard on us now for our assiduity on those occasions, as it now deprives them of the means of defence. But this is not the only instance in which we hear reflections which are not deserved. The safety of our country then loudly called on us to send all the arms to the camp that could be procured, and it now as loudly calls on us to entreat that we may be allowed some as soon as possible, as also some ammunition; as that which was intrusted to our care is now almost delivered out to the officers who are fortifying, and what remains of it is not fit for rifles. We need not repeat our entreaties that whatever is done may be done as soon as possible, as a day's delay may be the destruction of hundreds.
We are, in haste, gentlemen,
Your most obedient, humble servants,
George Woods.
Thomas Smith.
Bedford, November 27, 1777.
The persons mentioned as having been killed belonged mostly to the Cove; but the number was greatly exaggerated, as in fact but two were killed and one wounded. The other five escaped, and did not return until after the report of their death had gone abroad. The names of the killed we could not ascertain.
The band of Indians, after the Dunkard massacre, worked their way toward the Kittaning war-path, leaving behind them some few stragglers of their party whose appetite for blood and treasure had not been satiated. Among others, an old and a young Indian stopped at Neff's Mill. Neff was a Dunkard; but he was a single exception so far as resistance was concerned. He had constantly in his mill his loaded rifle, and was ready for any emergency. He had gone to his mill in the morning without any knowledge of Indians being in the neighborhood, and had just set the water-wheel in motion, when he discovered the two Indians lurking, within a hundred yards, in a small wood below the mill. Without taking much time to deliberate how to act, he aimed through the window, and deliberately shot the old Indian. In an instant the young Indian came toward the mill, and Neff ran out of the back door and up the hill. The quick eye of the savage detected him, and he fired, but missed his aim. Nothing daunted by the mishap, the savage followed up the cleared patch, when both, as if by instinct, commenced reloading their rifles. They stood face to face, not forty yards apart, on open ground, where there was no possible chance of concealment. The chances were equal: he that loaded first would be victor in the strife, the other was doomed to certain death. They both rammed home the bullet at the same time—with what haste may well be conjectured. This was a critical juncture, for, while loading, neither took his eye off the other. They both drew their ramrods at the same instant, but the intense excitement of the moment caused the Indian to balk in drawing his, and the error or mishap proved fatal, because Neff took advantage of it, and succeeded in priming and aiming before the Indian. The latter, now finding the muzzle of Neff's rifle bearing upon him, commenced a series of very cunning gyrations and contortions to destroy his aim or confuse him, so that he might miss him or enable him to prime. To this end, he first threw himself upon his face; then, suddenly rising up again, he jumped first to the right, then to the left, then fell down again. Neff, not the least put off his guard, waited until the Indian arose again, when he shot him through the head.
Neff, fearing that others might be about, left the mill and started to the nearest settlement. A force was raised and the mill revisited; but it was found a heap of smouldering cinders and ashes, and the dead bodies of the Indians had been removed. It is altogether likely that the rear of the savage party came up shortly after Neff had left, fired the mill, and carried away their slain companions.
For the part Neff took in the matter he was excommunicated from the Dunkard society. Nevertheless, he rebuilt his mill; but the Dunkards, who were his main support previously, refused any longer to patronize him, and he was eventually compelled to abandon the business.
On the 4th of May, 1781, a band of marauding savages entered the Cove and murdered a man, woman, and two children, and took one man prisoner, within a mile of the fort of John Piper, who was then colonel of the county. Names or particulars could not be ascertained.
At another time—period not remembered—several prisoners were taken.
The name of the Cove was changed from the "Great Cove" to "Morrison's Cove," in honor of a Mr. Morris, as early as 1770.
