Showing posts with label Indian massacre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indian massacre. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

Massacre of the Holiday Family Children

 

Massacre of the Holiday Family Children




William and Adam Holliday, cousins, emigrated from the North of Ireland about 1750, and settled in the neighborhood of the Manor, in Lancaster county. The feuds which existed between the Irish and German emigrants, as well as the unceasing efforts of the proprietary agents to keep emigrants from settling upon their lands, induced the Hollidays to seek a location farther west. Conococheague suggested itself to them as a suitable place, because it was so far removed from Philadelphia that the proprietors could not well dispossess them; and, the line never having been established, it was altogether uncertain whether the settlement was in Pennsylvania or Maryland. Besides, it possessed the advantage of being tolerably well populated. Accordingly, they settled on the banks of the Conococheague, and commenced clearing land, which they purchased and paid for soon after the survey. During both the French and Indian wars of 1755-56 and the war of 1762-63 the Hollidays were in active service. At the destruction of Kittaning, William Holliday was a lieutenant in Colonel Armstrong's company, and fought with great bravery in that conflict with the savages. The Hollidays were emphatically frontier-men; and on the restoration of peace in 1768, probably under the impression that the Conococheague Valley was becoming too thickly populated, they disposed of their land, placed their families and effects upon pack-horses, and again turned their faces toward the west. They passed through Aughwick, but found no unappropriated lands there worthy of their attention. From thence they proceeded to the Standing Stone, but nothing offered there; nor even at Frankstown could they find any inducement to stop; so they concluded to cross the mountain by the Kittaning Path and settle on the Alleghany at or near Kittaning. William knew the road, and had noticed fine lands in that direction.

CHIMNEY ROCKS
OPPOSITE HOLLIDAYSBURG

CHIMNEY ROCKS OPPOSITE HOLLIDAYSBURG.

However, when they reached the place where Hollidaysburg now stands, and were just on the point of descending the hill toward the river, Adam halted, and declared his intention to pitch his tent and travel no farther. He argued with his cousin that the Indian titles west of the mountains were not extinguished; and if they bought from the Indians, they would be forced, on the extinguishment of their titles, to purchase a second time, or lose their lands and live in constant dread of the savages. Although William had a covetous eye on the fine lands of the Alleghany, the wise counsel of Adam prevailed, and they dismounted and prepared to build a temporary shelter. When Adam drove the first stake into the ground he casually remarked to William, "Whoever is alive a hundred years after this will see a tolerable-sized town here, and this will be near about the middle of it." This prediction has been verified to the letter long before the expiration of the allotted time.

In a day or two after a shelter had been erected for the families, William crossed the river to where Gaysport now stands, for the purpose of locating. The land, however, was too swampy, and he returned. The next day he crossed again, and found a ravine, south of where he had been prospecting, which appeared to possess the desired qualifications; and there he staked out a farm,—the one now owned by Mr. J. R. Crawford. Through this farm the old Frankstown and Johnstown Road ran for many years,—the third road constructed in Pennsylvania crossing the Alleghany Mountains.

These lands belonged to the new purchase, and were in the market at a very low price, in order to encourage settlers on the frontier. Accordingly, Adam Holliday took out a warrant for 1000 acres, comprising all the land upon which Hollidaysburg now stands. The lower or southern part was too marshy to work; so Mr. Holliday erected his cabin near where the American House now stands, and made a clearing on the high ground stretching toward the east.

In the mean time, William Holliday purchased of Mr. Peters 1000 acres of land, which embraced the present Crawford and Jackson farms and a greater part of Gaysport. Some years after, finding that he had more land than he could conveniently cultivate, he disposed of nearly one-half of his original purchase to his son-in-law, James Somerville.

Adam Holliday, too, having a large lot of land, disposed of a portion of it to Lazarus Lowry. Thus matters progressed smoothly for a time, until, unfortunately, a Scotchman, named Henry Gordon, in search of lands, happened to see and admire his farm. Gordon was a keen, shrewd fellow, and in looking over the records of the land-office he discovered a flaw or informality in Adam's grant. He immediately took advantage of his discovery and took out a patent for the land. Litigation followed, as a matter of course. Gordon possessed considerable legal acumen, and had withal money and a determined spirit. The case was tried in the courts below and the courts above,—decided sometimes in favor of one party and sometimes in favor of the other, but eventually resulted in Gordon wresting from Adam Holliday and Lazarus Lowry all their land. This unfortunate circumstance deeply afflicted Mr. Holliday, for he had undoubtedly been grossly wronged by the adroitness and cunning of Gordon; but relief came to him when he least expected it. When the war broke out, Gordon was among the very first to sail for Europe; and soon after the Council proclaimed him an attainted traitor, and his property was confiscated and brought under the hammer. The circumstances under which he had wrested the property from Holliday were known, so that no person would bid, which enabled him to regain his land at a mere nominal price. He then went on and improved, and built a house on the bank of the river, near where the bridge connects the boroughs of Hollidaysburg and Gaysport. The very locust-trees that he planted seventy-eight years ago, in front of his door, are still standing.

During the alarms and troubles which followed in the course of the war, Adam Holliday took a conspicuous part in defending the frontier. He aided, first, in erecting Fetter's Fort, and afterward expended his means in turning Titus's stable into a fort. This fort was located on the flat, nearly opposite the second lock below Hollidaysburg, and the two served as a place of refuge for all the settlers of what was then merely called the Upper End of Frankstown District. He also, with his own money, purchased provisions, and through his exertions arms and ammunition were brought from the eastern counties. His courage and energy inspired the settlers to make a stand at a time when they were on the very point of flying to Cumberland county. In December, 1777, Mr. Holliday visited Philadelphia for the purpose of securing a part of the funds appropriated to the defence of the frontier. The following letter to President Wharton was given to him by Colonel John Piper, of Bedford county:—

Bedford County, December 19, 1777.

Sir:—Permit me, sir, to recommend to you, for counsel and direction, the bearer, Mr. Holliday, an inhabitant of Frankstown, one of the frontier settlements of our county, who has, at his own risk, been extremely active in assembling the people of that settlement together and in purchasing provisions to serve the militia who came to their assistance. As there was no person appointed either to purchase provisions or to serve them out, necessity obliged the bearer, with the assistance of some neighbors, to purchase a considerable quantity of provisions for that purpose, by which the inhabitants have been enabled to make a stand. His request is that he may be supplied with cash not only to discharge the debts already contracted, but likewise to enable him to lay up a store for future demand. I beg leave, sir, to refer to the bearer for further information, in hopes you will provide for their further support. Their situation requires immediate assistance.

I am, sir, with all due respect, your Excellency's most obedient humble servant,

John Piper.

Mr. Holliday's mission was successful; and he returned with means to recruit the fort with provisions and ammunition, and continued to be an active and energetic frontier-man during all the Indian troubles which followed.

Notwithstanding the distracted state of society during the Revolution, William Holliday devoted much time and attention to his farm. His family, consisting of his wife, his sons John, William, Patrick, Adam, and a lunatic whose name is not recollected, and his daughter Janet, were forted at Holliday's Fort; and it was only when absolute necessity demanded it that they ventured to the farm to attend to the crops, after the savage marauders so boldly entered the settlements.

James, who we believe was next to the eldest of William Holliday's children, joined the Continental army soon after the war broke out. He is represented as having been a noble-looking fellow, filled with enthusiasm, who sought for, and obtained without much difficulty, a lieutenant's commission. He was engaged in several battles, and conducted himself in such a manner as to merit the approbation of his senior officers; but he fell gloriously at Brandywine, while the battle was raging, pierced through the heart by a musket-ball. He was shot by a Hessian, who was under cover, and who had, from the same place, already dispatched a number of persons. But this was his last shot; for a young Virginian, who stood by the side of Holliday when he fell, rushed upon the Hessian, braving all danger, and hewed him to pieces with his sword before any defence could be made.

The death of young Holliday was deeply lamented by his companions-in-arms, for he was brave and generous, and had not a single enemy in the line. His friends, after the battle, buried him near the spot where he fell; and it is doubtful whether even now a hillock of greensward is raised to his memory.

About the beginning of the year 1779, the Indians along the frontier, emboldened by numerous successful depredations, came into Bedford county—within the boundaries of which Holliday's Fort then was—in such formidable bands that many of the inhabitants fled to the eastern counties. The Hollidays, however, and some few others, tarried, in the hope that the Executive Council would render them aid. The following petition, signed by William Holliday and others, will give the reader some idea of the distress suffered by the pioneers; it was drawn up on the 29th of May, 1779:—

To the Honorable President and Council:—

The Indians being now in the county, the frontier inhabitants being generally fled, leaves the few that remains in such a distressed condition that pen can hardly describe, nor your honors can only have a faint idea of; nor can it be conceived properly by any but such as are the subjects thereof; but, while we suffer in the part of the county that is most frontier, the inhabitants of the interior part of this county live at ease and safety.

And we humbly conceive that by some immediate instruction from Council, to call them that are less exposed to our relief, we shall be able, under God, to repulse our enemies, and put it in the power of the distressed inhabitants to reap the fruits of their industry. Therefore, we humbly pray you would grant us such relief in the premises as you in your wisdom see meet. And your petitioners shall pray, etc.

N.B.—There is a quantity of lead at the mines (Sinking Valley) in this county Council may procure for the use of said county, which will save carriage, and supply our wants with that article, which we cannot exist without at this place; and our flints are altogether expended. Therefore, we beg Council would furnish us with those necessaries as they in their wisdom see cause.

P.S.—Please to supply us with powder to answer lead.

(Signed)

William HollidayP.M.
Thomas CoulterSheriff.
Richard J. DelaptCaptain.
Sam. Davidson.

The prayer of these petitioners was not speedily answered, and Holliday's Fort was evacuated soon after. The Council undoubtedly did all in its power to give the frontiers support; but the tardy movements of the militia gave the savages confidence, and drove the few settlers that remained almost to despair. Eventually relief came, but not sufficient to prevent Indian depredations. At length, when these depredations and the delays of the Council in furnishing sufficient force to repel these savage invasions had brought matters to such a crisis that forbearance ceased to be a virtue, the people of the neighborhood moved their families to Fort Roberdeau, in Sinking Valley, and Fetter's Fort, and formed themselves into scouting parties, and by these means protected the frontier and enabled the settlers to gather in their crops in 1780; still, notwithstanding their vigilance, small bands of scalp-hunters occasionally invaded the county, and, when no scalps were to be found, compromised by stealing horses, or by laying waste whatever fell in their way.

In 1781, when Continental money was so terribly depreciated that it took, in the language of one of the old settlers, "seventeen dollars of it to buy a quart of whiskey," government was in too straitened a condition to furnish this frontier guard with ammunition and provisions, so that the force was considerably reduced. Small scouting parties were still kept up, however, to watch the savages, who again made their appearance in the neighborhood in the summer, retarding the harvest operations.

About the middle of July, the scouts reported every thing quiet and no traces of Indians in the county. Accordingly, Mr. Holliday proceeded to his farm, and, with the aid of his sons, succeeded in getting off and housing his grain. Early in August, Mr. Holliday, accompanied by his sons Patrick and Adam and his daughter Janet, then about fourteen years of age, left Fort Roberdeau for the purpose of taking off a second crop of hay. On their arrival at the farm they went leisurely to work, and mowed the grass. The weather being extremely fine, in a few days they began to haul it in on a rudely-constructed sled, for in those primitive days few wagons were in use along the frontiers. They had taken in one load, returned, and filled the sled again, when an acquaintance named McDonald, a Scotchman, came along on horseback. He stopped, and they commenced a conversation on the war. William Holliday was seated upon one of the horses that were hitched to the sled, his two sons were on one side of him, and his daughter on the opposite side. All of the men, as was customary then, were armed with rifles. While this conversation was going on, and without the slightest previous intimation, a volley was suddenly fired from a thicket some sixty or seventy yards off, by which Patrick and Adam were instantly killed and the horse shot from under Mr. Holliday. The attack was so sudden and unexpected that a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder from a cloudless sky could not have astonished him more. The echoes of the Indian rifles had scarcely died away before the Indians themselves, to the number of eight or ten, with a loud "whoop!" jumped from their place of concealment, some brandishing their knives and hatchets and others reloading their rifles.

Appalled at the shocking tragedy, and undecided for a moment what course to pursue, Holliday was surprised to see McDonald leap from his horse, throw away his rifle, run toward the Indians, and, with outstretched arms, cry "Brother! Brother!" which it appears was a cry for quarter which the savages respected. Holliday, however, knew too much of the savage character to trust to their mercy—more especially as rebel scalps commanded nearly as good a price in British gold in Canada as prisoners; so on the impulse of the moment he sprang upon McDonald's horse and made an effort to get his daughter up behind him. But he was too late. The Indians were upon him, and he turned into the path which led down the ravine. The yells of the savages frightened the horse, and he galloped down the path; but even the clattering of his hoofs did not drown the dying shrieks of his daughter, who was most barbarously butchered with a hatchet.

In a state of mind bordering on distraction, Holliday wandered about until nearly dark, when he got upon the Brush Mountain trail, on his way to Sinking Valley. His mind, however, was so deeply affected that he seemed to care little whither he went; and, the night being exceedingly dark, the horse lost the trail and wandered about the mountain for hours. Just at daybreak Mr. Holliday reached the fort, haggard and careworn, without hat or shoes, his clothes in tatters and his body lacerated and bleeding. He did not recognise either the fort or the sentinel on duty. He was taken in, and the fort alarmed, but it was some time before he could make any thing like an intelligible statement of what had occurred the day previous. Without waiting for the particulars in detail, a command of fifteen men was despatched to Holliday's farm. They found the bodies of Patrick and Adam precisely where they fell, and that of Janet but a short distance from the sled, and all scalped. As soon as the necessary arrangements could be made, the bodies of the slain were interred on the farm; and a rude tombstone still marks the spot where the victims of savage cruelty repose.

This was a sad blow to Mr. Holliday; and it was long before he recovered from it effectually. But the times steeled men to bear misfortunes that would now crush and annihilate the bravest.

The Scotchman McDonald, whom we have mentioned as being present at the Holliday massacre, accompanied the savages, as he afterward stated, to the Miami Valley, where he adopted their manners and customs, and remained with them until the restoration of peace enabled him to escape. He returned to the Valley of the Juniata; but he soon found that Holliday had prejudiced the public mind against him by declaring the part he took at the time of the massacre to have been cowardly in the extreme, notwithstanding that the cowardice of McDonald actually saved Holliday's life, by affording him means to escape. The people generally shunned McDonald, and he led rather an unenviable life; yet we might suppose, taking all the circumstances into consideration, that, in illustrating the axiom that "self-preservation is the first law of nature," he did nothing more than any man, with even less prudence than a canny Scotchman, would have done. But any thing having the least squinting toward cowardice was deemed a deadly sin by the pioneers, and McDonald soon found it necessary to seek a home somewhere else.

After the declaration of peace, or, rather, after the ratification of the treaty, Gordon came back to Pennsylvania and claimed his land under its stipulation. He had no difficulty in proving that he had never taken up arms against the colonies, and Congress agreed to purchase back his lands.

The Commissioners to adjust claims, after examining the lands, reported them worth sixteen dollars an acre; and this amount was paid to Adam Holliday, who suddenly found himself the greatest monied man in this county—having in his possession sixteen or seventeen thousand dollars.

Adam Holliday lived to a good old age, and died at his residence on the bank of the river, in 1801. He left two heirs—his son John, and a daughter married to William Reynolds.

After the estate was settled up, it was found that John Holliday was the richest man in this county. He married the daughter of Lazarus Lowry, of Frankstown, in 1803, and in 1807 he left for Johnstown, where he purchased the farm, and all the land upon which Johnstown now stands, from a Dr. Anderson, of Bedford. Fearing the place would never be one of any importance, John Holliday, in a few years, sold out to Peter Livergood for eight dollars an acre, returned to Hollidaysburg, and entered into mercantile pursuits.

William Holliday, too, died at a good old age, and lies buried on his farm by the side of his children, who were massacred by the Indians.

In the ordinary transmutation of worldly affairs, the lands of both the old pioneers passed out of the hands of their descendants; yet a beautiful town stands as a lasting monument to the name, and the descendants have multiplied until the name of Holliday is known not only in Pennsylvania, but over the whole Union.

[Note.—There are several contradictory accounts in existence touching the massacre of the Holliday children. Our account of it is evidently the true version, for it was given to us by Mr. Maguire, who received it from Mr. Holliday shortly after the occurrence of the tragedy.

It may be as well here to state that the original Hollidays were Irish-men and Presbyterians. It is necessary to state this, because we have heard arguments about their religious faith. Some avow that they were Catholics, and as an evidence refer to the fact that William called one of his offspring "Patrick." Without being able to account for the name of a saint so prominent in the calendar as Patrick being found in a Presbyterian family, we can only give the words of Mr. Maguire, who said:—

"I was a Catholic, and old Billy and Adam Holliday were Presbyterians; but in those days we found matters of more importance to attend to than quarrelling about religion. We all worshipped the same God, and some of the forms and ceremonies attending church were very much alike, especially in 1778, when the men of all denominations, in place of hymn-books, prayer-books, and Bibles, carried to church with them loaded rifles!"

It may be as well to state here also that the McDonald mentioned had two brothers—one a daring frontier-man, the other in the army,—so that the reader will please not confound them.]

                                57 gruesome stories in Indian torture and capture



 

Monday, May 10, 2021

Indian Massacres Around Franktown, Pennsylvania

Indian Massacres  Around Franktown, Pennsylvania


OLD INDIAN TOWN OF FRANKSTOWN — INDIAN BURIAL-PLACES — MASSACRE OF THE BEDFORD SCOUT, E

Frankstown is probably the oldest place on the Juniata River—traders having mentioned it as early as 1750. The Indian town was located at the mouth of a small run, near where McCune's Mill now stands, and at one time contained a considerable number of inhabitants. The Indian name of the place was Assunepachla, which signifies a meeting of many waters, or the place where the waters join. This would seem to be an appropriate name, since, within a short distance of the place, the river is formed by what was then known as the Frankstown Branch, the Beaver Dam Branch, the Brush Run, and the small run near McCune's Mill.

The name of Frankstown was given it by the traders. Harris, in his report of the distances between the Susquehanna and the Alleghany, called it "Frank (Stephen's) Town." The general impression is that the town was named by the traders in honor of an old chief named Frank. This, however, is an error. It was named after an old German Indian trader named Stephen Franks, who lived contemporaneously with old Hart, and whose post was at this old Indian town. The truth of this becomes apparent when we remember that the Indians could not pronounce the r in their language; hence no chief was likely to bear the name of Frank at that early day. Old Franks, being a great friend of the Indians, lived and died among them, and it was after his death that one of the chiefs took his name; hence arose the erroneous impression that the name was given to the town in honor of the chief.

How long Assunepachla was an Indian settlement cannot be conjectured, but, unquestionably, long before the Indians of the valley had any intercourse with the whites. This is evidenced by the fact that where the town stood, as well as on the flat west of the town, relics of rudely-constructed pottery, stone arrow-heads, stone hatchets, &c., have repeatedly been found until within the last few years.

The use of stone edge-tools was abandoned as soon as the savages obtained a sight of a superior article,—probably as early as 1730. The first were brought to the valley by Indians, who had received them as presents from the proprietary family.

It is stated that the first brought to Assunepachla cost a special trip to Philadelphia. Three chiefs, having seen hatchets and knives at Standing Stone, were so fascinated with their utility that they resolved to have some. Accordingly they went to work at trapping; and in the fall, each with an immense load of skins, started on foot for Philadelphia, where they arrived after a long and fatiguing march. They soon found what they wanted at the shop of an Englishman; but, being unable to talk English, they merely deposited their furs upon the counter and pointed to the tomahawks and knives. This indicated trade; and the Englishman, after a critical examination of their skins, which he found would yield him not less than £100, threw them carelessly under the counter, and gave them a hatchet and a knife each. With these the savages were about to depart, well satisfied; but the trader suddenly bethinking himself of the possibility of their falling in with the interpreters, and their ascertaining the manner in which they had been swindled, called them back, and very generously added three clasp-knives and a quantity of brass jewelry.

With these they wended their way back, proud as emperors of their newly-acquired weapons. Never did chiefs enter a place with more pomp and importance than our warriors. The very dogs barked a welcome, and the Indians came forth from their wigwams to greet the great eastern travelers. Their hatchets, knives, and trinkets passed from hand to hand, and savage encomiums were lavished unsparingly upon them; but when their practicability was tested, the climax of savage enthusiasm was reached. The envied possessors were lions: they cut, hewed, and scored, just because they could.

But—alas for all things mutable!—their glory was not destined to last long. The traders soon appeared with the same kind of articles, and readily exchanged for half a dozen skins what the warriors had spent a season in trapping and a long journey to procure.

On the point of Chimney Ridge, near Wert's farm, below Hollidaysburg, was an Indian burial-place, and another on the small piece of table-land near the mouth of Brush Run. At both places, skeletons of mighty chiefs and all-powerful warriors have been ruthlessly torn from their places of sepulture by the plough, and many other relics have been exhumed.

The greater portion of the warriors residing at Frankstown went to Ohio in 1755, and took up the hatchet for their "brothers," the French, and against Onus, or their Father Penn. This act, the colonial government persuaded itself to believe, was altogether mercenary on the part of the savages. The real cause, as we have already stated, was the dissatisfaction which followed the purchase of the Juniata Valley by the Penns, for a few paltry pounds, from the Iroquois, at Albany, in 1754.

The town of Frankstown still continued to be a prominent Indian settlement until the army of General Forbes passed up the Raystown Branch when the spies sent out brought such exaggerated reports of the warlike appearance and strength of the army that the settlement was entirely broken up, and the warriors, with their squaws, pappooses, and movable effects, crossed the Alleghany by the Kittaning War-Path, and bade adieu to the valley which they were only too well convinced was no longer their own.

The remains of their bark huts, their old corn-fields, and other indications of their presence, were in existence until after the beginning of the present century.

On the flat, several white settlers erected their cabins at an early day, and a few near the old town, and others where the town of Frankstown now stands.

During the Revolution, as we have stated, a stable erected by Peter Titus was turned into a fortress. In summer, the location of the fort can still be traced by the luxuriant growth of vegetation upon it. This fort was called Holliday's Fort. The fort at Fetter's, a mile west of Hollidaysburg, was known as the Frankstown garrison. In those days there was no such place as Hollidaysburg, and the Frankstown district took in a scope of country which now serves for five or six very large townships; in short, every place was Frankstown within a radius of at least ten miles.

Holliday's Fort was a mere temporary affair; while the Frankstown garrison was a substantial stockade, manned and provisioned in such a manner that a thousand savages could by no possible means have taken it. It never was assaulted except upon one occasion, and then the red-skins were right glad to beat a retreat before they were able to fire a gun.

Near this fort occurred the massacre of the Bedford scout. This was unquestionably the most successful savage sortie made upon the whites in the valley during the Revolution; and, as some of the bravest and best men of Bedford county fell in this massacre, it did not fail to create an excitement compared to which all other excitements that ever occurred in the valley were perfect calms.

We shall, in the first place, proceed to give the first report of the occurrence, sent by George Ashman, one of the sub-lieutenants of the county, to Arthur Buchanan, at Kishicoquillas. Ashman says:—

Sir:—By an express this moment from Frankstown, we have the bad news. As a party of volunteers from Bedford was going to Frankstown, a party of Indians fell in with them this morning and killed thirty of them. Only seven made their escape to the garrison of Frankstown. I hope that you'll exert yourself in getting men to go up to the Stone; and pray let the river-people know, as they may turn out. I am, in health,

Geo. Ashman.

Of course Colonel Ashman was not near the place, and his despatch to Buchanan is, as a natural consequence, made up from the exaggerated reports that were carried to him at the instance of the affrighted people residing in the vicinity where the massacre occurred. The following is the official report, transmitted by Ashman to President Reed:—

Bedford County, June 12, 1781.

Sir:—I have to inform you that on Sunday, the third of this instant, a party of the rangers under Captain Boyd, eight in number, with twenty-five volunteers under Captain Moore and Lieutenant Smith, of the militia of this county, had an engagement with a party of Indians (said to be numerous) within three miles of Frankstown, where seventy-five of the Cumberland militia were stationed, commanded by Captain James Young. Some of the party running into the garrison, acquainting Captain Young of what had happened, he issued out a party immediately, and brought in seven more, five of whom are wounded, and two made their escape to Bedford,—eight killed and scalped,—Captain Boyd, Captain Moore, and Captain Dunlap missing. Captain Young, expecting from the enemy's numbers that his garrison would be surrounded, sent express to me immediately; but, before I could collect as many volunteers as was sufficient to march to Frankstown with, the enemy had returned over the Alleghany Hill. The waters being high, occasioned by heavy rains, they could not be pursued. This county, at this time, is in a deplorable situation. A number of families are flying away daily ever since the late damage was done. I can assure your Excellency that if immediate assistance is not sent to this county that the whole of the frontier inhabitants will move off in a few days. Colonel Abraham Smith, of Cumberland, has just informed me that he has no orders to send us any more militia from Cumberland county to our assistance, which I am much surprised to hear. I shall move my family to Maryland in a few days, as I am convinced that not any one settlement is able to make any stand against such numbers of the enemy. If your Excellency should please to order us any assistance, less than three hundred will be of but little relief to this county. Ammunition we have not any; and the Cumberland militia will be discharged in two days. It is dreadful to think what the consequence of leaving such a number of helpless inhabitants may be to the cruelties of a savage enemy.

Please to send me by the first opportunity three hundred pounds, as I cannot possibly do the business without money. You may depend that nothing shall be wanting in me to serve my country as far as my abilities.

I have the honor to be

Your Excellency's most obedient, humble servant,

George AshmanLieut. Bedford County.

It would appear that even a man holding an official station is liable to gross mistakes. In this instance, Ashman, who lived remote from the scene of the disaster, was evidently misled by the current rumors, and such he transmitted; for there are still persons alive, who lived at the time of the occurrence in the immediate vicinity, who pronounce Ashman's statement as erroneous, and who give an entirely different version of the affair.

The seventy Cumberland county militia, under strict military discipline, were sent first to Standing Stone, and afterward to Frankstown, early in the spring of 1781. They were under the command of Colonel Albright and Captain Young, and were sent with a view to waylaying the gaps of the Alleghany Mountains, and preventing any savages from coming into the valley. Instead of doing so, however, they proved themselves an inefficient body of men, with dilatory officers, who chose rather the idle life of the fort than scouting to intercept the savages. In fact, these men, in the service and pay of the Supreme Executive Council of the State to protect the frontier, were never one solitary cent's worth of advantage to the inhabitants. Such a force, one would suppose, would have inspired the people with confidence, and been fully able to cope with or repel the largest war-party of savages that ever trod the Kittaning War-Path during the Revolutionary struggle.

Notwithstanding the presence of this large body of men, stationed as it were almost at the mouth of the gap through which the Indians entered the valley, the depredations of the savages were almost of daily occurrence. The inefficiency of the Cumberland militia, who either could not or would not check the marauders, at length exasperated the settlers to such an extent that they resolved to form themselves into a scouting party, and range through the county for two months.

This project was favored by Colonel Ashman, and he agreed to furnish a company of rangers to join them. The enrolment of volunteers by Captain Moore, of Scotch Valley, assisted by his lieutenant, a Mr. Smith, from the vicinity of Frankstown, proceeded; and on the second of June, 1781, these men met at Holliday's Fort, then abandoned for want of provisions. There they were joined by the rangers, under command of Captain Boyd and Lieutenant Harry Woods, of Bedford, but, instead of there being a company, as the volunteers were led to expect, there were but eight men and the two officers above named.

From Holliday's Fort they marched to Fetter's, where they contemplated spending the Sabbath. It was their intention to march through the Kittaning Gap to an old State road, (long since abandoned,) from thence to Pittsburg, and home by way of Bedford.

While debating the matter and making the necessary arrangements, two spies came in and reported that they had come upon an Indian encampment near Hart's Sleeping Place, which had apparently been just abandoned, as the fire was still burning; that, from the number of bark huts, the savages must number from twenty-five to thirty.

This raised quite a stir in the camp, as the scouts evidently were eager for the fray. The officers, who were regular woodsmen, and knew that the Indians would not venture into the settlement until the day following, were confident of meeting them near the mouth of the gap and giving them battle. They at once tendered to Colonel Albright the command of the expedition; but he refused to accept it. They then importuned him to let a portion of his men, who were both anxious and willing, accompany them; but this, too, he refused.

Nothing daunted, however, the rangers and the volunteers arose by daybreak on Sunday morning, put their rifles in condition, eat their breakfast, and, with five days' provisions in their knapsacks, started for the mountain.

We sincerely regret that the most strenuous effort on our part to procure a list of this scout proved futile. Here and there we picked up the names of a few who were in it; but nothing would have given us greater pleasure than to insert a full and correct list of these brave men. In addition to the officers named, we may mention the following privates:—James Somerville, the two Colemans, two Hollidays, two brothers named Jones, a man named Grey, one of the Beattys, Michael Wallack, and Edward Milligan.

The path led close along the river, and the men marched in Indian file, as the path was narrow. When they reached the flat above where Temperance Mill now stands, and within thirty rods of the mouth of Sugar Run, the loud warwhoop rang upon the stillness of the Sabbath morning; a band of savages rose from the bushes on the left-hand side of the road, firing a volley at the same time, by which fifteen of the brave scout were stretched dead in the path. The remainder fled, in consternation, in every direction,—some over the river in the direction of Frankstown, others toward Fetter's Fort. A man named Jones, one of the fleetest runners, reached the fort first. To screen the scout from the odium of running, he reported the number of the enemy so large that Albright refused to let any of his command go to the relief of the unfortunate men.

As the Colemans were coming to the fort, they found the other Jones lying behind a log for the purpose of resting, as he said. Coleman advised him to push on to the fort, which he promised to do.

Captain Young at length started out with a party to bring in the wounded. The man Jones was found resting behind the log, but the rest was a lasting one; he was killed and scalped. Another man, who had been wounded, was also followed a short distance and killed and scalped,—making, in all, seventeen persons who fell by this sad and unlooked-for event. In addition to the seventeen killed, five were wounded, who were found concealed in various places in the woods and removed to the fort. Some reached the fort in safety, others were missing,—among the latter, Harry Woods, James Somerville, and Michael Wallack.

It appears that these three men started over the river, and ran up what is now known as O'Friel's Ridge, hotly pursued by a single savage. Woods and Wallack were in front, and Somerville behind, when the moccasin of the latter became untied. He stooped down to fix it, as it was impossible to ascend the steep hill with the loose moccasin retarding his progress. While in this position, the Indian, with uplifted tomahawk, was rapidly approaching him, when Woods turned suddenly and aimed with his empty rifle [5] at the Indian. This caused the savage to jump behind a tree scarcely large enough to cover his body, from which he peered, and recognised Woods.

"No hurt Woods!" yelled the Indian; "no hurt Woods!"

This Indian happened to be the son of the old Indian Hutson, to whom George Woods of Bedford paid a small annual stipend in tobacco, for delivering him from bondage. Hutson had frequently taken his son to Bedford, and it was by this means that he had become acquainted with Harry and readily recognised him. Woods, although he recognised Hutson, had been quite as close to Indians as he cared about getting; so the three continued their route over the ridge, and by a circuitous tramp reached the fort in the afternoon.

Many years afterward, long after the war, when Woods lived in Pittsburg, he went down to the Alleghany River to see several canoe-loads of Indians that had just arrived from above. He had scarcely reached the landing when one of the chiefs jumped out, shook him warmly by the hand, and said—

"Woods, you run like debble up Juniata Hill."

It was Hutson—by this time a distinguished chief in his tribe.

The fate of the unfortunate scout was soon known all over the country, expresses having been sent in every direction.

On Monday morning Captain Young again went out with a small party to bury the dead, and many of them were interred near the spot where they fell; while others, after the men got tired of digging graves, were merely covered with bark and leaves, and left on the spot to be food for the wolves, which some of the bodies unquestionably became, as Jones sought for that of his brother on Tuesday, and found nothing but the crushed remains of some bones.

In 1852, a young man in the employ of Mr. Burns exhumed one of these skeletons with the plough. It was found near the surface of the earth, on the bank of the river. The skull was perforated with a bullet-hole, and was in a remarkable state of preservation, although it had been in the ground uncoffined for a period of seventy-one years! It was placed in the earth again.

Immediately after the news of the massacre was spread, the people from Standing Stone and other places gathered at Fetter's; and on the Tuesday following a party of nearly one hundred men started in pursuit of the Indians. Colonel Albright was solicited to accompany this force with his command and march until they overtook the enemy; but he refused. The men went as far as Hart's Sleeping Place, but they might just as well have remained at home; for the savages, with the scalps of the scout dangling from their belts, were then far on their way to Detroit.

When the firing took place, it was plainly heard at the fort; and some of the men, fully convinced that the scout had been attacked, asked Colonel Albright to go out with his command to their relief. He merely answered by saying that he "knew his own business."

For his part in the matter, he gained the ill-will of the settlers, and it was very fortunate that his time expired when it did. The settlers were not much divided in opinion as to whether he was a rigid disciplinarian or a coward.

Men, arms, and ammunition, in abundance followed this last outrage; but it was the last formidable and warlike incursion into the Juniata Valley.

OLD BRIDGE
NEAR PETERSBURG

OLD BRIDGE NEAR PETERSBURG.


57 gruesome stories if Indian capture and torture

 

Friday, May 7, 2021

The Sand Creek Indian Massacre of the Cheyenne Indians

The Sand Creek Indian Massacre of the Cheyenne Indians



The following letters were printed in the New York Tribune in the winter of 1879. They are of interest, not only as giving a minute account of one of the most atrocious massacres ever perpetrated but also as showing the sense of justice which is to be found in the frontiersman's mind to-day. That men, exasperated by atrocities and outrages, should have avenged themselves with hot haste and cruelty, was, perhaps, only human; but that men should be found, fifteen years later, apologizing for, nay, justifying the cruel deed, is indeed a matter of marvel.

LETTER I.

In June 1864, Governor Evans, of Colorado, sent out a circular to the Indians of the Plains, inviting all friendly Indians to come into the neighborhood of the forts, and be protected by the United States troops. Hostilities and depredations had been committed by some bands of Indians, and the Government was about to make war upon them. This circular says:

"In some instances, they (the Indians) have attacked and killed soldiers, and murdered peaceable citizens. For this the Great Father is angry, and will certainly hunt them out and punish them, but he does not want to injure those who remain friendly to the whites. He desires to protect and take care of them. For this purpose, I direct that all friendly Indians keep away from those who are at war, and go to places of safety. Friendly Arapahoes and Cheyennes belonging to the Arkansas River will go to Major Colby, United States Agent at Fort Lyon, who will give them provisions and show them a place of safety."

In consequence of this proclamation of the governor, a band of Cheyennes, several hundred in number, came in and settled down near Fort Lyon. After a time they were requested to move to Sand Creek, about forty miles from Fort Lyon, where they were still guaranteed "perfect safety" and the protection of the Government. Rations of food were issued to them from time to time. On the 27th of November, Colonel J. M. Chivington, a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Denver, and Colonel of the First Colorado Cavalry, led his regiment by a forced march to Fort Lyon, induced some of the United States troops to join him, and fell upon this camp of friendly Indians at daybreak. The chief, White Antelope, always known as friendly to the whites, came running toward the soldiers, holding up his hands and crying "Stop! stop!" in English. When he saw that there was no mistake, that it was a deliberate attack, he folded his arms and waited till he was shot down. The United States flag was floating over the lodge of Black Kettle, the head chef of the tribe; below it was tied also a small white flag as additional security—a precaution Black Kettle had been advised by United States officers to take if he met troops on the Plains. In Major Wynkoop's testimony, given before the committee appointed by Congress to investigate this massacre, is the following passage:

"Women and children were killed and scalped, children shot at their mothers' breasts, and all the bodies mutilated in the most horrible manner. *** The dead bodies of females profaned in such a manner that the recital is sickening, Colonel J. M. Chivington all the time inciting his troops to their diabolical outrages."

Another man testified as to what he saw on the 30th of November, three days after the battle, as follows:

"I saw a man dismount from his horse and cut the ear from the body of an Indian, and the scalp from the head of another. I saw a number of children killed; they had bullet-holes in them; one child had been cut with some sharp instrument across its side. I saw another that both ears had been cut off. *** I saw several of the Third Regiment cut off fingers to get the rings off them. I saw Major Sayre scalp a dead Indian. The scalp had a long tail of silver hanging to it."

Robert Bent testified:

"I saw one squaw lying on the bank, whose leg had been broken. A soldier came up to her with a drawn sabre. She raised her arm to protect herself; he struck, breaking her arm. She rolled over, and raised her other arm; he struck, breaking that, and then left her without killing her. I saw one squaw cut open, with an unborn child lying by her side."

Major Anthony testified:

"There was one little child, probably three years old, just big enough to walk through the sand. The Indians had gone ahead, and this little child was behind, following after them. The little fellow was perfectly naked, travelling in the sand. I saw one man get off his horse at a distance of about seventy-five yards and draw up his rifle and fire. He missed the child. Another man came up and said, 'Let me try the son of a b——. I can hit him.' He got down off his horse, kneeled down, and fired at the little child, but he missed him. A third man came up, and made a similar remark, and fired, and the little fellow dropped."

The Indians were not able to make much resistance, as only a part of them were armed, the United States officers having required them to give up their guns. Luckily they had kept a few.

When this Colorado regiment of demons returned to Denver they were greeted with an ovation. The Denver News said: "All acquitted themselves well. Colorado soldiers have again covered themselves with glory;" and at a theatrical performance given in the city, these scalps taken from Indians were held up and exhibited to the audience, which applauded rapturously.

After listening, day after day, to such testimonies as these I have quoted, and others so much worse that I may not write and The Tribune could not print the words needful to tell them, the committee reported: "It is difficult to believe that beings in the form of men, and disgracing the uniform of United States soldiers and officers, could commit or countenance the commission of such acts of cruelty and barbarity;" and of Colonel Chivington: "He deliberately planned and executed a foul and dastardly massacre, which would have disgraced the veriest savage among those who were the victims of his cruelty."

This was just fifteen years ago, no more. Shall we apply the same rule of judgment to the white men of Colorado that the Government is now applying to the Utes? There are 130,000 inhabitants of Colorado; hundreds of them had a hand in this massacre, and thousands in cool blood applauded it when it was done. There are 4000 Utes in Colorado. Twelve of them, desperate, guilty men, have committed murder and rape, and three or four hundred of them did, in the convenient phrase of our diplomacy, "go to war against the Government;" i.e., they attempted, by force of arms, to restrain the entrance upon their own lands—lands bought, owned and paid for—of soldiers that the Government had sent there, to be ready to make way upon them, in case the agent thought it best to do so! This is the plain English of it. This is the plain, naked truth of it.

And now the Secretary of the Interior has stopped the issue of rations to 1000 of these helpless creatures; rations, be it understood, which are not, and never were, a charity, but are the Utes' rightful dues, on account of lands by them sold; dues which the Government promised to pay "annually forever." Will the American people justify this? There is such a thing as the conscience of a nation—as a nation's sense of justice. Can it not be roused to speak now? Shall we sit still, warm and well fed, in our homes, while five hundred women and little children are being slowly starved in the bleak, barren wildernesses of Colorado? Starved, not because storm, or blight, or drouth has visited their country and cut off their crops; not because pestilence has laid its hand on them and slain the hunters who brought them meat, but because it lies within the promise of one man, by one word, to deprive them of one-half their necessary food for as long a term of years as he may please; and "the Secretary of the Interior cannot consistently feed a tribe that has gone to war against the Government."

We read in the statutes of the United States that certain things may be done by "executive order" of the President. Is it not time for a President to interfere when hundreds of women and children are being starved in his Republic by the order of one man? Colonel J. M. Chivington's method was less inhuman by far. To be shot dead is a mercy, and a grace for which we would all sue, if to be starved to death were our only other alternative.

H. H.

New York, Jan 31st, 1880.

                                        57 gruesome stories of Indian capture and torture





Wednesday, May 5, 2021

1200 Bodies Excavated at a Historic Massacre Site

1200 Bodies Excavated at a Historic Massacre Site


Within the confines of a few city blocks in a small Ohio town, was strewn the bodies of 1200 men women, and children in the largest massacre in U.S. history. This was the battle between Gen, St. Clair and  the Miami Indians.  More info in future posts


                                                         57 gruesome stories of capture and torture





In 1891, the battle sites were excavated, and the remains of some 1200 people were buried in a memorial park downtown.

Sunday, January 17, 2021

Captured and Tortured: Trilogy of Terror

 Captured and Tortured: Trilogy of Terror

Get it here


Here within is a collection of fifty-seven accounts of first-hand narratives of people captured by Indians in colonial times and lived to tell their story of the life, customs, kindness, and cruelties of Native Americans. Various torture methods by different tribes are described in graphic detail by people that witnessed these horrible atrocities. Indian raids on small farming communities were bloody and gruesome events with young and old stripped, clubbed, and scalped. Women were captured and taken to Canada, where they were sold as slaves to the French. While many were treated harshly by the Indians, some were treated with much kindness by their captors. Journals from colonists captured by the Indians provide unprecedented accounts of how the Indians lived and how they existed on the run from the British army and the much-feared Mohawk Indians. They witnessed the colonial men captured and the cruelties, torture, and death in the most horrendous manners in their travels. They were only able to endure these torments by their unwavering belief that God would see them through their terrible ordeal. It is a true testament to the power of faith that sustained and eventually delivered them from their captivity. Warning: This book described acts of terrible violence and should not be read by anyone under eighteen.





Saturday, March 11, 2017

Indian Massacres in Grant and Hardy County, West Virginia

Indian Massacres in Grant and Hardy County, West Virginia


  

     A Shawnee chief named Killbuck, whose home was  probably in Ohio, invaded what is  now 
Grant and Hardy Counties in the spring of 1756, at the head of sixty or seventy savages. He killed 
several settlers and made his escape. He appeared again two years later in Pendleton County, 
where he attacked and captured Fort Seybert,  twelve  miles west of the present town of Franklin,
 and put to death more  than  twenty persons who had taken refuge in the fort. The place no
 doubt could have made a  successful resistance had not the inmates trusted to the promise 
of  safety made by the Indians, who thus were admitted into the fort, and at once massacred the 
settlers. In 1758 the Indians again invaded Hampshire County and killed a settler near Forks of 
Capon. This same year eight Indians came into the country on the South Branch of the Potomac,
 near the town of Petersburg, and attacked the cabin of a man named Bingaman. They had forced
 their way into the house at night, and being at too close 
quarters for shooting, Bingaman clubbed his rifle and beat seven of them to death. The eighth
 made his escape. In 1759 the Indians committed depredations on the Monongahela River near 
Morgantown. 

57 gruesome stories of Indian capture and torture







Monday, March 6, 2017

Slaughter and Massacre at Schenectady, New York, January 11, 1690

Slaughter and Massacre at Schenectady, New York, January 11, 1690





1690.  Jan. 11. 
The French reach the trail leading to Corlaer (Schenectady) under Sieur Le Moyne de Sainte Helene and Lieut. Daillebout de Mantet, and decide to attack that place first, rather than Albany, with about 100 men and as many Indians. At 11 o'clock, it being decided because of the severity of the winter night to wait no longer, detachments approach the various city gates, which through laxity were found unprotected. The village was stockadoed with pine logs ten feet high, with gates at the north and south ends of Church street. It is stated that there were within the wall about eighty houses shielding nearly four hundred souls. A stockade fort at the north end of Church street, where it meets Front street, held a garrison detachment of 24 men of Capt. Jonathan Bull's Connecticut company, under Lieut. Talmadge, sufficient to make repulse. The signal of attack was given Indian fashion, when detachments were at each gate, and the torch was applied, everyone being killed by the sword as in midnight fear they rushed from their abodes. Only two houses were standing at the end of two hours, — that of Sander Glen, across the Mohawk, because of previous kindness shown to the French, and of the widow Bratt, whither the wounded M. de Montigny was carried. Pieter Schuyler (in his letter of the 15th, to Gov. Bradstreet of Massachusetts) states: "The whole village was instantly in a Blaze. Women with child (wereripped open, and their Infants cast into the Flames, or dashed against Posts of the Doors. Sixty Persons perished in the Massacre, and twenty-seven were carried into Captivity. The rest fled naked during the massacre, but twenty-one were lost on the road, Feb. 8. French depart from Schenectady at 11 o'clock on Sunday, taking 30 prisoners, fifty good horses being seized to convey the plunder; but of these only sixteen were to reach Montreal, the others being required for food on return march, Feb. 9. Simon Schermerhorn, wounded and blood-besmeared, arrives in the early morn at Albany on his panting steed, and announces the massacre; following him at intervals, other fugitives arrive from the vicinity of Schenectady and give the alarm that Albany is to be burned as was Schenectady, with the consequence that instead of despatching all the militia at command to help the Mohawk valley inhabitants or to pursue the French, they feel impelled to make a defence at home, and messengers are sent on horse with all speed to Kinderhook, Claverack and Kingston to procure assistance, Feb. 9. Capt. Bull takes a detail of soldiers from Albany companies to Corlear (Schenectady) and inters the bloody, blackened and frozen bodies, at the same time, by orders received, invites the Mohawks to build castles of defence at that place and on the island (Van Rensselaer) for the further protection of Albany, Feb. 9. Convention commissions Robert Livingston and Capt. Geret Teunise to go to Massachusetts and Connecticut to treat with their governors regarding necessity of joining forces to invade Canada, March 2. Jacob Leisler commissions Johannes de Bruyn, Johannes Prevoost and Jacob Milborne to go to Albany with 160 soldiers to possess Fort Orange and control King William's government, March 4. Leisler's claim to administer the government of the province recognized by the city and Pieter Schuyler allowed to retain office of mayor; but Johannes Cuyler is appointed town-clerk in stead of Robert Livingston, April. Leisler at council of war in New York, favors expedition against Canada, May 1. Board of Indian Commissioners constituted. Four persons escaping, who had been taken prisoners at Schenectady, arrive at Albany and relate terrible experiences on their journey back with the French to Canada, they subsisting on dead horses, eating mosses and bark of trees, June 9. The famous "Ballad" of the burning of Schenectady (twenty graphic stanzas) composed by Walter Wilie of Albany, June 12. Leisler appoints his friend Milborne the commander-in-chief of the expedition to be raised by the several provinces to invade Canada ; but the New Englanders of importance decry the appointment for so important a post of one they say is only a trades man of little intelligence, and the government of Connecticut recommends Maj-Gen. Fitz John Winthrop, to which Leisler finally agrees, June. Gen. Winthrop arrives at Albany with his Connecticut troops, commissioned to lead the American forces against the French in Canada, and camps at the Schuyler Flatts, Watervliet, north of city, July 21. Gen. Winthrop, disgusted with the small quantity of men for his expedition, finding that the colonies had not sent half of the promised allotments. New York sending August. Gen. Winthrop joins Col. Pieter Schuyler and his army at the "Great Carrying Place" (Fort Edward) whom he finds busily engaged in making bark canoes for the expedition through the two lakes; but much discouraged by reason of lack of proper transportation for so many, they hold a council at which it is determined to return to Albany, first commissioning Johannes Schuyler (the youngest brother of the Mayor) a captain, who proceeds to accept what militia will volunteer to join his invasion from among the Dutch and Indians, and in the end makes a campaign that is successful in some measure,