OHIO STATEWIDE FILES - HISTORY: Chapter 9 (Abbott, John S. C., 1875)
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			Chapter IX
		  Battles on the Frontier

   Lord Dunmore was the last royal governor of Virginia. Very serious diffi-
culties were now rising between the colonists and the mother country. These
difficulties in a few months led to the Declaration of Independence. Lord
Dunmore was very unpopular in Virginia, and was soon compelled to seek pro-
tection on board a British fleet. The Virginians were greatly exasperated
with the peace which the governor had made with the Indians. They firmly be-
lieved that the governor, in anticipation of the strife, which soon after
arose between the colonists and the mother country, had framed this peace, 
so as to make the Indians friendly to the British Crown, and hostile to the
colonists. Even then it was believed that he was contemplating the alliance
of the tomahawk and scalping knife of the savage, with the powerful enginery
of war, which Great Britain could send to crush her rebellious subjects.
George Washington, and Chief Justice Marshall, two of the most candid and 
illustrious of Virginia's sons, were ever of this opinion.
   We must not omit to mention, that while Lord Dunmore was on the march, 
the inhabitants of Wheeling sent a volunteer force of four hundred men, 
across the Ohio river, to move directly west, a distance of fifty or sixty
miles, to destroy the Indian villages on the Muskingum. This river takes its
rise within thirty miles of Lake Erie, and draining by its tributaries a 
very rich valley, nearly two hundred miles in breadth, empties into the Ohio
at Marietta, after a serpentine flow of between two and three hundred miles.
   The Indians in this region, unprepared for war, fled in all directions. 
The expedition, unopposed, burned their towns, destroyed their crops, and
took a few prisoners, who were subsequently exchanged at the Dunmore treaty.
   Six months before the peace made with the Indians at Fort Charlotte, the
first skirmish between the colonists and the British troops took place at 
Lexington, Massachusetts. The British government, hoping to alarm the colo-
nists with the menace of a frontier war with the Indians, aided by the 
strength of the British armies, sent agents to all the prominent tribes, to
rally warriors under the flag of the British monarchy.
   Colonel Guy Johnson was sent by the British government to enlist the aid
of the Iroquois Indians in its war against the infant colonies. The Iroquois
then occupied a large territory, whose central power seems to have been in
the heart of the present State of New York. It was the most powerful Indian
nation on the continent, and was composed of a confederacy of five very
warlike tribes, - the Mohawks, Oniedas, Onandagas and Senecas. Smith, in his
History of New York, writes:
   "The Five Nations laid claim to all the territory from the mouth of the
Sorel River, south of Lakes Erie and Ontario, and on both sides of the Ohio
River, until it falls into the Mississippi; and on the north side of these
lakes, the whole tracts between the Outawas River and Lake Huron."
   This would give them a territory twelve hundred miles in length by eight
hundred in breadth. They could bring nearly twenty-five hundred warriors in-
to the field. Indeed, the English actually enlisted under their banners fif-
teen hundred of these savage warriors. When we consider what savage warfare
is, with its conflagrations of peaceful homes, and its indiscriminate but-
chery of men, women and children, this must be pronounced a very inhuman
deed. But the rich British government could offer very powerful bribes to 
the poor Indians; and, on the other hand, the English colonists had treated 
the Indians so haughtily, with so little spirit of conciliation, that they
were not at all reluctant to take up arms with the prospect of gratifying
their revenge.
   It would seem that the intelligent Indian chiefs had a pretty clear com-
prehension of the nature of the conflict in which they were solicited to
engage. At a council held about this time by the chiefs, on the Miami River,
one of them, a very renowned warrior, by the name of Buckongahelas, ad-
dressed his brethren in the following eloquent and logical strain:
   "Friends, listen! a great and powerful nation is divided. The father is
fighting against the son; the son against the father. The father has called
on his Indian children to help him punish his children the Americans. I took
time to consider whether I should receive the hatchet of my father to assist
him. At first I thought it a family quarrel, in which I was not interested. 
At length it appeared to me that the father was right, and that the children
deserved to be punished a little. I so thought from the many cruel acts his
children have committed on the Indians.
   "They have encroached on our lands, stolen our property, murdered, with-
out provocation, men, women and children. Yes! they have murdered those who
were friendly to them, who were placed for protection under the roof of 
their father's house, the father himself standing sentry at the door at the 
time."
   Here the orator described a very atrocious case, in which a number of 
Indians were massacred in a jail in Pennsylvania. They were not known to be
guilty of any crime, but that of being Indians. In a time of popular excite-
ment, they were in danger of being put to death by the mob. The government,
for their protection, gave them shelter in the jail. The mob broke in and 
killed them all. He then continued:
   "Often had the father been compelled to make amends for the crimes of his
children. But they do not grow better. They will continue the same they have
been, so long as any land remains to us. Look at the murders committed by 
them upon our friends who were living peaceably on the banks of the Ohio.
Did they not kill them without provocation? Are they any better now? No!"
   The colonists were much alarmed by the many indication that the savages
in a body would become the allies of the British government. The emissaries
of England were visiting nearly all the tribes from Canada to the Gulf, and
westward even to the shores of the Pacific, to combine them in the most 
dreadful of conceivable warfares, against the long line of frontier settle-
ments. To use the language of the Indian, "the indignant father hoped by 
this severe punishment to bring back his refractory children to obedience."
To thwart these plans, the colonial government promptly organized three In-
dian departments. Over each of these commissioners were appointed, who were 
to make constant and earnest endeavors to win over to the colonists those 
tribes who had not yet joined the English, or, at least, to induce them to 
remain neutral.
   At one ot the conferences, one of the American commissioners made use of 
the following illustration to explain to the Indians the origin of the quar-
rel between the colonists and the British government.
   "A cruel father placed upon the back of his son a pack heavier than he 
could bear. The boy complained, and said the burden was too heavy. The fath-
er paid no heed to his complaint. The boy totters along, staggering beneath
his pack, when he again told his father that the load was heavier than he
could possibly bear. The father, instead of lightening it, added to the bur-
den. The boy toiled along a little farther, until crushed by the weight, and
with his back almost broken, he threw the load to the ground. The angry fa-
ther came with a whip to compel his son again to lift the burden and carry 
it."
   Still it was very manifest that the sympathies of the Indians were with 
the British government, and against the colonists, from whom they had re-
ceived so many wrongs. Among the colonists there was a Colonel Morgan, who
had been a trader among the Indians, and, from his upright dealings, was
respected and beloved. He was, very judiciously, appointed as commissioner
for the middle departments. He took up his residence at Pittsburgh, and de-
voted energies to conciliate the tribes of Ohio. But though they respected
Morgan as a man, they were not friendly to his cause. With great difficulty
he succeeded in convening a small council of the chiefs of a few of the 
tribes at Pittsburgh.
   While arduously engaged in the endeavor to win these tribes whose vil-
lages were upon the banks of the Muskingum, the Scioto, and the Miami, his
efforts were frustrated by a very untoward event. These tribes were then
smarting from the blows which they had received in the Dunmore war, and in
those preceding outrages which had goaded them into the conflict.
   It will be remembered that the illustrious Shawanese chief, Cornstalk, 
who led the warriors at the battle of Point Pleasant, was opposed to the
war. He did not deem it unjust, on the part of the Indians, but his intell-
igence convinced him that they were not sufficiently strong to contend with
so powerful a foe. It will be remembered that after the battle, which he 
conducted with so much ability and bravery, it was his influence which led 
to proposals for peace. Neither will it be forgotten that Lord Dunmore, in
anticipation of the conflict which had now arisen, did, as was supposed, 
everything in his power, to win the Indians to the British arms. And the In-
dians perfectly understood that when the colonial army, under General Lewis,
were inflamed by the intense desire utterly to annihilate their tribes, Lord
Dunmore stood between them and destruction.
   And now the time had come when there was a fair opportunity for these In-
dians to satiate that spirit of revenge, which is so dear to the savage 
heart. Notwithstanding all this, Cornstalk, a man of great native strength
of mind, and of unusual intelligence, was opposed to taking any part in the 
war between the Americans and the English, as we shall designate the two
parties. He knew that war could bring to his tribe only disaster and suffer-
ing; that the paths of prosperity could lead only through fields or peace.
But the masses of the Indian people, like those of more enlightened commun-
ities, in those hours of excitement were deaf to the voice of reason. With
great unanimity they clamored for vengeance and war. Cornstalk found it al-
most impossible to stem the torrent. Still, desirous of peace, he repaired 
to the American Fort Randolph, at Point Pleasant, which was then under the
command of Captain Arbuckle.
   Another Shawanee chief, Red Hawk by name, with a private Indian, accom-
panied him. Cornstalk held an interview with Arbuckle, and informed him of
his earnest desire to avoid the war, and of his wish to confer with him, to
see if anything could be done to prevent hostilities. He said that so far as 
he knew, he was the only man in his tribe who was not eager to enter upon 
the war-path, and that the war feeling was so unanimous and strong that he
was afraid that he himself would be swept along by the resistless current.
   In response to this communication, Arbuckle infamously ordered the two
Shawanese chieftains, and their attendent, to be arrested and held in close
confinement in the fort. He then sent word to the Shawanese tribe that 
should they manifest any hostility against the Americans, he should retal-
iate upon his prisoners. Soon after the son of Cornstalk, Ellenipsico, came
to the fort to visit his father, probably not aware that he was held a pri-
soner. He also was arrested. Thus Arbuckle had four Shawanese captives, whom
he detained as hostages.
   The morning after the arrival of Ellenipsico, two soldiers, by the names
of Hamilton and Gillmore, crossed the Kanawha and followed down the southern
banks of the Ohio for several miles in the pursuit of game. In the meantime
a small party of Indians came stealthily through the forest, and from lurk-
ing places on the western side of the river, were carefully examining the 
condition of the fort, its assailable points, and its means of defense While
thus employed the two hunters commenced their return. Passing very near one
of these scouts, the Indian fired upon them, and Gillmore was instantly 
killed. It so happened that Captain Arbuckle, with Colonel Stuart, were 
standing on the bank of the river at that time looking across to the oppo-
site shore. The stream was about two hundred yards wide. Surprised that a 
gun should be fired so near the fort, which was contrary to orders, they
suddenly saw Hamilton rushing down the bank shooting for help, and saying
that Gillmore was killed.
   Several soldiers immediately leaped into a canoe, shot across the river, 
and rescued Hamilton. The Indians had disappeared. They brought back with 
them the bloody corpse of Gillmore, his head being scalped. The canoe had 
scarcely reached the shore, when the soldiers, exasperated with the sight of
the gory body of their slain comrade, cried out with one accord:
   "Let us kill the Indians in the fort."
   Pale with rage, and with their loaded muskets in their hands, they ascen-
ded the river's bank, and rushed towards the cabin where the captives were
confined. Captain Arbuckle and Colonel Stuart did every thing in their power
to dissuade the men from the atrocious deed. But, mad with rage, and reck-
less of consequences, they cocked their guns and threatened their commanders
with instant death, if they made any opposition to their vengeance.
   There was in the camp an Indian woman, the wife of the interpreter. She
ran to the cabin, and informed the captives of the doom which awaited them.
The clamor of the approaching soldiers was now distinctly heard by the pri-
soners. The young son of Cornstalk was greatly agitated. His noble father, 
apparently as calm as if no danger threatened, said to him:
   "My son, do not give place to fear. If the Great Spirit has sent you here
to be killed, submit to his will. Die like a man."
   As a mob rushed in at the door, Cornstalk advanced with dignity to meet 
them. He instantly fell dead, pierced by eight bullets. His companion, Red
Hawk, endeavored to escape by climbing the chimney. He was immediately shot
down. "The other Indian," writes Colonel Stuart, indignantly, "was shame-
fully mangled. I grieved to see him so long dying."
   The tidings of the atrocious murders reached the chiefs in council at
Pittsburgh. They dispersed angrily. There was no longer hope that they could
be induced to side with the colonists.
   There was, at this time, a distinguished chief of the Delaware Indians, 
by the name of White Eyes. Though his tribe was infuriated against the Amer-
icans, he espoused their cause. His enemies accused him of having been 
bribed by the colonists to act the part of the traitor to the Indians. A 
large council of the Delawares was called. Some Tories, as the American par-
tisans of England were called, escaping from Pittburgh, appeared at this
council, and urged the Indinas to immediate hostilities. They represented
that the colonists were marching upon them in great strength, to annihilate
them, if possible, before the British could come to their aid. They assured
the Indians that their only salvation was to be found in assailing the Amer-
icans all along their frontiers before they had time to organize their ar-
mies for the invasion of the Indian territory.
   White Eyes found it impossible to stem the torrent of popular feeling. 
He, however, ventured to urge that they should delay hostilities for ten 
days, till they could ascertain the truth of these rumors. A rival chief, 
who was eager for the war, rose and said, knowing that his words would meet
with the sympathy of nearly every one present:
   "I declare that every man should be called an enemy to his nation who 
throws any obstacle whatever in the way of instantly taking up arms against
the American people." 
   This blow, which White Eyes knew was aimed at himself, called forth from 
him the following strain of impassioned eloquence: "If you will go out in 
this war, you shall not go without me. I have been for peace that I might
save my tribe from destruction. If you think me wrong, if you give more cre-
dit to runaway vagabonds than to your friends - to me, a man, a warrior and
a Delaware - if you insist upon fighting the Americans, go! and I will go 
with you. And I will not go like the bear-hunter, who setes his dogs upon
the animal, to be beaten about by his paws, while he keeps himself at a safe
distance. No! I will lead you. I will be in the front. I will fall with the
first of you. I will not survive. I will not live to bewail the destruction
of a brave people who deserved, as you do, a better fate."
    This very spirited address produced such an impression upon the Indians,
that, with much unanimity, they voted to wait ten days before committing
themselves to hostilities. The nature of the representatives made to the 
Delawares by the renegade Tories may be inferred from the following inci-
dent.
   A few days before the appointed time had expired, a clergyman, Rev. Mr.
Heckewelder, who had been a missionary among the Indians, and who was highly
respected by them, came to the Delawares to endeavor to influence them not
to join the British. White Eyes immediately convened a large council, which
Mr. Heckewelder was invited to attend. Then addressing the missionary, he
said, with emphatic words
    "You will tell us the truth with regard to the questions I now put to 
you. Are the American warriors all cut to pieces by the British troops? Is
General Washington killed? Is there no longer a Congress? Have the British
hung some of the members, and taken the rest to England to be hung? Is the 
whole country, beyond the mountains, in the possession of the British? Are
all of the Americans, who have escaped the vengeance of the British, now 
huddled together on this side of the mountains, preparing to seize our coun-
try by killing all our men, women and children? Is this true?"
   Such were the reports which had been brought to them by the Tories to 
stimulate them to war. Mr. Heckewelder replied:
   "There is not one word of truth in these statements. The Americans were 
never more determined in their opposition to the British than now. They were
never more sure of finally conquering them. Instead of wishing to destroy
your villages, or to kill your people, they earnestly desire to live with
you as brothers. They have sent me to offer you the right hand of friend-
ship."
   These influences held back the Delawares for a few months. But nearly all
the tribes in Ohio joined the British. Not long after this White Eyes took 
the small pox, and died. Through his whole life he had proved the warm 
friend of the colonists. To the honor of the American Congress, it should be
stated, that they took his son under their protection to be educated. The
following entry is to be found in the journal of that body in the year 1785:
   "Resolved, That Mr. Morgan be empowered to continue the care and direc-
tion of George White Eyes for one year; and that the Board of Treasury take 
orders for the payment of the expenses necessary to carry into execution the
views of Congress in this respect."
   White Eyes was, in all respects, a very remarkable man. He had listened
reverently to the teachings of the missionaries. The Moravian Christians had
established a mission among the Delawares. Many of the pagan Indians were 
for driving the missionaries away. Loskiel, in his history of these mis-
sions, says that "God raised up for their protection White Eyes, the ablest
chief among the Delawares." He at length succeeded in inducing the tribe to 
vote that the Christian missionaries should be taken under their special
protection. The good old chief was so overjoyed at this that he said in
council:
   "I am an old man, and know not how long I may live. I, therefore, rejoice,
that I have been able to induce you to this decision. Our children and 
grandchildren will reap the benefit of it. Now I am ready to die whenever
God pleases."
   Not long before his death he took the Bible in his hands and said to the
assembled council of the nation: "My friends, it is my dying wish that the
Delawares should hear the word of God. I will, therefore, gather together
my young men and their children. I will kneel down before that Great Spirit
who created them and me, and I will pray unto Him that He may have mercy 
upon us, and reveal His will to us. And as we can not declare that will to
those who are yet unborn, we will pray unto the Lord our God to make it 
known unto our children and our children's children."
   Mr. B. B. Thatcher, in his Indian Biography, writing of White Eyes, says:
"He was a man of enlarged political views, and no less a patriot than a 
statesman. The ends he aimed at were far more his country's than his own. He
observed the superiority of the white man to the red; and, nearer to home, 
the properity and happiness of the Christian Delawares; and he convinced 
himself thoroughly of the true causes of both. He therefore earnestly
desired that his whole nation might be civilized, to which result he con-
sidered Christianity, as he had seen it taught by the good Moravians, the
best possible promotive."
   Mr. Loskiel writes: "The chieftain, White Eyes, who had often advised 
other Indians, with great earnestness, to believe in the Gospel of Jesus 
Christ, but had always postponed joining the believers himself, on account
of being yet entangled in political concerns, was unexpectedly called into
eternity. The Indian church, to whom he had rendered very essential ser-
vices, was much affected at the news of his death. And they could not but
hope that God our Savior had received his soul in mercy."
   The death of White Eyes left the Delawares under almost the exclusive 
influence of the Chieftain Pipe. He was a very different man - a confirmed
pagan, immoral in his habits, and a reviler of Christianity. Still he was a 
man of much intelligence, of remarkable abilities. He had heard of negro 
slavery, and loved to tell the stories of the unmerciful beating of negroes.
"These are the benefits," he would add mockingly, "of what you call Chris-
tian civilization."
   Chieftain Pipe frankly confessed that he deemed it for the interest of 
the nation to join the English against the Americans, though he declared 
that he hated both parties alike. "The Americans," said he, "are so poor 
that they cannot give a blanket or a shirt in exchange for our peltries. But
the English are rich. They will give us all we need. Unless we make them our
friends we shall perish of want."
   A few months after the death of White Eyes, and after the Delawares had
joined the English in many bloody forays against the settlers on the fron-
tiers, there was a large council of the Indian allies convened by the Bri-
tish authorities, at Detroit. Chieftain Pipe was present. Fixing his eyes
sternly upon the commandment he made the following extraordinary speech:
   "Father!" then pausing for a moment, and turning to the Indian chiefs
around him, he pointed his finger to the commandant and said, scornfully:
"I do not know why I should call HIM Father. I have never known any father
but the French.  Still has this name is imposed upon us, I will use it.
   "Father! sometime ago you put a war hatchet into my hands. You said, 
'Take this, and try it on the heads of my enemies, the Long Knives. Then let
me know if it is sharp and good.' When you gave me the hatchet, I had no 
wish to go to war against a foe who had done me no harm. But you say that 
you are my father; that I am your child. I obeyed. I knew that if I did not,
you would withhold from my tribe the necessities of life. We could obtain
them nowhere else.
   "Father! perhaps you think me a fool for risking my life at your bidding,
and in a cause where I could gain nothing. It is your cause, not mine. You
Long-Knives raised a quarrel among yourselves, and you ought to fight it 
out. You should not compel your children, the Indians, to expose themselves
to danger for your sake.
   "Father! many lives have already been lost on YOUR ACCOUNT. The tribes
have suffered, and have been weakened. Children have lost parents and bro-
thers. Wives have lost husbands. It is not known how many more will perish
before YOUR WAR will end.
   "I have said that you may think me a fool for rushing thoughtlessly on 
your enemy. Do not believe this. Do not think that I am ignorant that soon
you may make peace with the Long-Knives. You say that you love the Indians.
It is for your interest to say so, that you may have them at your service.
   "Father! listen, while you are setting us on your enemy as the hunter 
sets his dog upon the game; while we are rushing on that enemy of yours, 
with the bloody hatchet you have given us, we may chance to look back to 
the place from which you started us. And what shall we see? Perhaps we shall
see our Father shaking his hands with the Long-Knives, with those he now
calls his enemies. I may then see him laugh at my folly for obeying his
orders. And yet am I not risking my life at his command? Father remember 
this."
   Then handing the commandant a stick, upom which there was strung a large
number of scalps of Americans, he continued:
   "This is what has been done with the hatchet you gave me. I have obeyed
your commands. The hatchet I found sharp. And yet I did not do all that I 
might have done. No! I did not. My heart failed me. I felt compassion for 
your enemy. Innocent women and children had no part in your quarrels. 
Therefore I spared them. I took some prisoners. As I was bringing them to 
you, I spied one of your large canoes, upon which I placed them. In a few
days you will receive these prisoners. If you examine their skin you will
find that it is of the same color as your own.
   "Father! I hope you will not destroy what I have spared. You have the 
means of preserving that which would perish with us from want. The Indian
warrior is poor. His cabin is always empty. Your house is always full."
   This remarkable and well authenticated speech certainly indicates any-
thing but a strong attachment for the English on the part of their Indian
allies.
   The State of Virginia had quite an important fort on the south banks of 
the Ohio, about a quarter mile above the creek at Wheeling. This fort con-
tained a square enclosure of nealy an acre. The pickets which enclosed it
were eight feet high, with a strong block-house at each of the corners. It
was called Fort Henry, in honor of Patrick Henry, Virginia's renowned orator
and patriotic governor. Within the enclosure was a magazine for provisions
and ammunition, an unfailing well, barracks for the soldiers, and a number 
of small log cabins for the use of families. Its location was admirable, in
beauty as well as in utility. The fertile land around was cleared and cul-
tivated, so as to afford pleasant accomodations for thirty cabins. This 
happy and thriving village was the commencement of what is now the City of
Wheeling. The works were considered sufficiently strong to repel any as-
saults which savages could make. As the requisition of the war called for 
the services in the field of all the vigorous men, the works were feebly
garrisoned with but forty soldiers. Half of those were enfeebled old men, 
and the remainder were mere boys.
   It is remarkable that the savages themselves were often more merciful in
their treatment of the colonists, than the renegade white men who joined
them. One of the most notorious of these renegades, who proclaimed himself
a Tory, and who fought under the banners of Great Britain, was a man named
Simon Girty. He had become an adopted member of the Wyandot tribe. He stood
high among them as hunter, orator and warrior. In all the councils of the
Indians, the most ferocious sentiments came from his lips. The cause of the 
peculiar venom of this man has probably the following explanation.
   In Lord Dunmore's war, he, Girty, was attached to the division of General
Lewis. It would appear that this general was an arrogant, opinionated, pas-
sionate man. Girty was merely a private in the ranks. He had, however, 
performed some very important services as a scout, and was an exceedingly
bold and self-reliant man. In some altercation with the General, Lewis 
struck him over the head with his cane, cutting a deep gash in his forehead,
and causing the blood to stream profusely down his cheek and upon the floor.
   Girty turned to leave the apartment. Upon reaching the door, he stopped
for a minute, fixed his eyes sternly upon the General, and said, with an
oath: "Your quarters, sir, shall swim in blood for this." He immediately
escaped from the fort, and joined the army of the Wyandots, under Cornstalk,
then advancing upon Point Pleasant. He fought fiercely by the side of his
new Indian friends during all that bloody day. Maddened almost to frenzy, it
is probable not a few of his former comrades fell by the bullets from his
rifle. When the Wyandots, after their repulse, retired to their distant 
homes on the Sandusky, he declared that he had foresworn his white blood, 
and hereafter leagued himself with the red man forever. Dressed in the garb
of the Indian, with his plumed head-dress, his painted flesh, his features
bronzed by long exposure, no ordinary observer could distinguish him from
the rest of the tribe.
   Perfectly acquainted with the state of affairs at Fort Henry, he organ-
ized, secretly, an army to strike it by surprise. Five hundred Indian war-
riors, armed with rifles and accustomed to their use, and led by his intell-
igence, would, it was thought, make short work with a garrison of forty old
men and young boys. The British government furnished them with the best of
rifles and a full supply of ammunition. With stealthy tread these mocassined
warriors crossed nearly the whole breadth of Ohio, and effecting the pass-
age of the river, in their canoes, took their positions, undiscovered, in 
the dense surrounding forest. Their first object was, to prevent any poss-
ibility of escape, that no messenger might be sent to distant stations with
tidings of the siege. The next was, to prevent any parties from reaching the
fort with reinforcements or supplies.
   Colonel David Shepherd, who was in command, was a brave and resolute off-
icer. Though he had a sufficient supply of arms within the fort, the maga-
zine only about sixty yards from the fort, where larger supplies were 
stored. Colonel Shepherd kept out his scouts in all directions to give warn-
ing of approaching danger. Though Girty succeeded in eluding their vigil-
ance, still a vague rumor had reached the garrison that a large army had 
been concentrated on the Sandusky to enter upon some military expedition. 
But its destination was not known.
   On the morning of the 26th of September, 1777, the alarming report spread
through the little village that Indian warriors had been seen in the vicin-
ity, prowling through the woods. Almost instantly there was a simutaneous
rush into the fort. The villagers caught up such articles as were nearest at
hand, and abandoned their homes. The next morning, Colonel Shepherd though 
it expedient to dispatch an express to the nearest settlement for reinforce-
ments. A negro and a white man were sent out to a pasture, at a little dis-
tance from the fort, to bring in some horses. As they were passing through a
corn-field, six Indians suddenly rose upon them. The white man, at whom they
probably all first aimed, instantly fell dead, riddled with bullets. The
fleet-footed negro reached the fort unharmed.
   Colonel Shepherd immediately sent fourteen of the most able of his men to
pursue the Indians. They passed through the corn-field, and were cautionsly
proceeding, down the river, when they fell into an ambush, and were suddenly
assailed in front, flank and rear by several hundred of Girty's party. Ele-
ven of these men were almost instantly killed. Captain Mason, though severly
wounded, succeeded in creeping, unseen by the Indians, into a heap of logs 
and brush, where, in the endurance of terrible suffering, he concealed him-
self till the Indians abandoned the siege. Two of his soldiers also escaped 
death in the same way.
   Colonel Shepherd, in the fort, hearing the firing, immediately sent Cap-
tain Ogle, with twelve men, to rescue the imperiled party. He also fell into
an ambush, and two-thirds of his party were immediately killed. Captain Ogle
was severly wounded, but succeeded in concealing himself. Three of the sol-
dires, one of them mortally wounded, escaped into the woods. Thus out of the 
garrison of forty, thirty were either killed or dispersed. Ten only were 
left in the fort. Still it is probable that some of the villagers, who had
fled from the surrounding cabins, were men accustomed to the rifle. Many of
the women, also, in those stormy times, were taught to use that weapon of
skill.
   Girty now, with his whole force, advanced to the assault, rending the air
with hideous yells. He encountered, however, shots from the garrison, which, 
though, few in number, were so accurately aimed, striking down several of 
his warriors, that the Indians recoiled. He then changed his plan of attack.
Parties of his sharpshooters were placed in every house in the village, and
at every other point where they could find protection, and which commanded
the fort. These men kept up an incessant fire whenever there was the slight-
est chance of striking one within the palisades. At length, Girty approached
the window of one of the cabins, and waving a white flag, with a loud shout
demanded the surrender of the fort to the King of Great Britain. All the 
inmates were threatened with massacre should the garrison attempt any fur-
ther defense. The response came back, through one of the port-holes, that
Colonel Shepherd would never surrender the fort to the renegade so long as a 
single man was left to defend it.
   Immediately the battle was renewed, and a spirited fire was kept up on 
both sides. The Indians were very much more exposed than the garrison. And
generally even boys of sixteen were keen marksmen. Almost every report from 
behind the pickets was death to some Indian warrior. This was one of the 
most beautiful autumnal days, calm, serene and brilliant. The surrounding
scene of the placid river, the green hills and the fertile vales was very 
lovely. It seemed as though God intended this for a happy world, and that
his children might live here in the enjoyment of peace and prosperity. But
the infuriate passions of men were convening the Eden-like loveliness into a 
pandemonium. Yells of demoniac savages, blended with the uproar of the bat-
tle, and horrid war held high carnival. For six hours there was no cessation
of the conflict which had commenced early in the morning. There was a black-
smith's shop in the village. Girty got a large oaken log, which he converted
into a cannon, binding it firmly around with iron hoops. This he loaded al-
most to the muzzle with slugs of iron. With this he hoped to batter down the
gate. Though he took the precaution to stand at a safe distance himself, 
many fo the Indians, thinking it was impossible for such a gun to explode, 
gathered around to witness the effect of the discharge. The match was ap-
plied. The gun burst into a hundred fragments. Many of the warriors were 
killed and others severly wounded. A loud yell proclaimed to the inmates of
the fort the disaster.
   One act of heroism merits special notice. The ammunition in the fort was
nearly exhausted. It will be remembered that there was another magazine 
within about sixty yards of the fort. The Indians had not seized it, for 
they could not do so without being shot. It was a necessity that some one
should go to bring a keg of powder. The enterprise was hazardous in the ex-
treme, for hundreds of Indian sharpshooters were on the watch. Colonel Shep-
herd, unwilling to order any man thus to expose himself to almost certain 
death, called for a volunteer. Several young men promply stepped forward.
Colonel Shepherd said that the weakness of the garrison was such, that one
only would be permitted to go. As they were discussing the question, a young
girl, Elizabeth Zane, stepped forward and said:
    "In the present weak state of the garrison no man ought to be allowed
needlessly to peril his life. If I fall the loss is of but little conse-
quence, if one of our soldiers fall, it many prove a fatal calamity, invol-
ving the capacity and death of all in the garrison."
   After some hesitation the proposition of the heroic girl was accepted, 
and she sallied forth on her dangerous errand. On leaving the gate the sa-
vages observed her, but not molesting her, she secured the prize for which
she went and commenced her return. The Indians, on seeing a keg of powder in
her hand, discharged a volley at her; but with the swiftness of a deer she 
sped on and into the gate unharmed. By her daring she infused new courage in-
to the trembling garrison, and by her cheery words, and constant labors, in
running bullets, and in every other way rendering assistance, "she did what
she could" to help those who were struggling for life.
   As came on the Indians dispersed, in small bands, throughout the forest, 
and gathered around their camp-fires to rehearse the events of the day.
Their defiant yells, songs and revelry fell painfully upon the ears of the 
feeble and exhausted garrison. The Indians, five hundred in number, had no 
fear that the few men in the fort could think of venturing outside of the
palisades to attack them. They, therefore, took no pains to establish senti-
nels.
   In some unknown way, tidings of the attack reached one of the American 
stations not far distant. A little after midnight, Colonel Swearingen, from
Cross Creek, at the head of fourteen men, succeeded in cautiously creeping
through the Indian lines, and in entering the fort unharmed.
   Just before the day was breaking, General Samuel M'Culloch, who had al-
ready obtained much renown as a frontier warrior, reached the fort, with 
forty mounted grenadiers, from Short Creek. In this movement the post of 
danger was the rear. There the heroic general was found, anxious to see all
his men safe in the fort before he entered himself. The men, though closely
beset by the Indians, crowded in at the gate, which was thrown open to re-
ceive them. But the leader was cut off. With all ease the Indians could have
shot him, but they were desirous of taking him a captive - perhaps, admiring
his courage they hoped to adopt him, as a chief, like Girty, into their
tribe.
   It is said that he had participated in so many conflicts with the Indians
that almost every warrior was familiar with his person. His hame had been
among them all a word of terror. There was given twenty of his warriors to 
secure the living body of General M'Culloch. When, therefore, the man, whom
they had long marked out as the first option of their vengeance, appeared in
their midst, they made almost superhuman efforts to acquire possession of 
his person.
   A large number of Indians rushed to secure him. Mounted on a very fleet
and powerful steed, he wheeled his charger, and plunging through the line of
his foes, reached the top of Wheeling Hill, at some little distance east of
the fort. Hundreds of Indians were pursuing him, like hounds after a hare, 
and the solitudes of the forest resounded with their clamorous war cries.
   His situation now seemed hopeless. On two sides he was surrounded by his
pursuers. The third side presented impending cliffs and rocky steeps which
were quite inaccessible. On the fourth side there was a long precipice, 
nearly perpendicular, descending about one hundred and fifty feet to Whee-
ling Creek. There was no time for deliberation. Capture was, in his view, 
certain death, and probably death by the most dreadful tortures. The howling
savages were close upon him. Leaning far back in his saddle, and, firmly
bracing his feet in the stirrups, he pressed his spurs into his horse's
flanks. The noble steed seemed to share the consciousness of his master. 
Terrified by the fiend-like yells rising from several hundred throats, he
glared with distended eye-balls for a moment upon the savages, rapidly
approaching, in their flaunting war dress resembling demons rather than men,
and gave the awful plunge. For a moment it seemed as though both horse and 
rider must roll over and over, down the almost perpendicular declivity, till
they should reach the bottom in a mangled mass of death.
   But over the rocks, and through the thickets, the well trained steed, 
sliding and stumbling, held his way, until, almost miraculously, the bottom 
was reached in safety. Horse and rider then instantly disappeared in the 
depths of the forest, and the heroic general returned to his friends with
new laurels of victory upon his brow.
   The Indians had sufficient intelligence to perceive that the fort thus
reinforced could not be taken. They, however, before retiring, set fire to 
all the houses and fences in the village, destroyed everything that could be
destroyed, and killed or carried off three hundred head of cattle. The loss 
of the colonists was a little over thirty in killed and wounded. Twenty-six
were killed outright. It was estimated that the loss of the savages was from 
sixty to one hundred. This, however, was mostly a matter of conjecture, as 
the savages either concealed or carried off their dead.
   Such were the horrid ravages of this storm of war, thus bursting upon the
peaceful village, in one of the most lovely of autumnal days. The storm 
passed speedily away, but left behind it smouldering ruins, blood, de