George Peck's WYOMING, 1858 - Pennsylvania - Chapter 4

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                                    WYOMING;

             ITS HISTORY, STIRRING INCIDENTS AND ROMANTIC ADVENTURES.

                              By GEORGE PECK, D.D.

                               WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.

         NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE, 1858

MRS. MYERS.  133

                                       IV.

             INCIDENTS AND ADVENTURES RELATED BY MRS. MARTHA MYERS.

     "In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire 
      With good old folks, and let them tell their tales 
      Of woeful ages long ago betide."
                                             SHAKSPEARE.

  THE matter contained in the present chapter was communicated to us, for the 
purpose of a permanent record, by Mrs. Myers, in the month of August, 1841. We 
have connected the personal incidents with the current history of the times to 
which they refer, and have often supplied dates. The facts are given, as nearly 
as possible, as Mrs. Myers related them, and rest upon her authority. That the 
reader may be able to form a correct judgment as to the amount of confidence 
which is to be placed in her stories, we here give endorsements which we are 
sure will be entirely satisfactory.
  Hon. Charles Miner, the venerable historian of Wyoming, says: "Some years ago, 
when Professor Silliman was in the Valley, he visited Mrs. Myers, and I had the 
good fortune to be present at the interview: Mrs. Myers has been, and yet is, 
one of the clearest chroniclers of the early scenes. Though the light

     "'Revisits not those orbs, that roll in vain  
       To find its piercing ray,'

the mental eye retains all its early power and lustre. Though now - 1845 - 
eighty-two, years of age, it is a pleasure to sit by her side and hear

134  WYOMING.

     "'Of most disastrous chances - hair-breadth 'scapes,'
witnessed in her eventful youth." - Histor. Append., p. 14, 16.
  Mr. Lossing, after visiting Toby's Eddy, says: "Thence I rode to the residence 
of Mr. Myers, a son of the venerable lady already alluded to, where I passed an 
interesting hour with the living chronicle of the wars of Wyoming. I found her 
sitting in an easy-chair, peeling apples, and her welcome was as cheerful and as 
cordial as she could have given to a cherished friend. Her memory was clear, and 
she related the incidents of her girlhood with a perspicuity which evinced 
remarkable mental vigor. Although blindness has shut out the beautiful, and 
deprived her of much enjoyment, yet pious resignation, added to natural 
vivacity, makes her society extremely agreeable. 'I am like a withered stalk, 
whose flower hath fallen,' said she; 'but,' she added, with a pleasant smile, 
'the fragrance still lingers.'" - Field-Book, vol. i., p. 371.
  Colonel Stone says: "Near the site of the fort is the residence of Mrs. Myers, 
a widow lady of great age, but of clear mind and excellent memory, who is a 
survivor of the Wyoming invasion and the horrible scenes attending it. Mrs. 
Myers was the daughter of a Mr. Bennet, whose family was renowned in the 
domestic annals of Wyoming both for their patriotism and their courage." - 
History of Wyoming, p. 213.
  This is the lady to whose story we now invite the attention of the reader.

  Mrs. Myers's maiden name was Bennet. She was born in Scituate, Rhode Island, 
January 15,1763. Her father's name was Thomas Bennet; her mother's maiden name 
was Martha Jackson. The same year

MRS. MYERS.  135

on which Martha Bennet was born, a settlement of Connecticut people was 
commenced in Wyoming, and Mr. Bennet rented a valuable property in Rhode Island, 
and removed to the Delaware, near to Stroudsburg. He took quarters there with a 
company of people in a stone house, which was fortified and called a fort. Mr. 
Bennet's object was to settle in Wyoming, and accordingly he visited that famous 
locality, but, finding the Indians surly, he for the time abandoned the project.
  The hostile savages kept close watch of the old castle, and gave the occupants 
no little annoyance. The armed men there sometimes assumed the offensive, and 
hunted down small parties of Indians who were strolling about the woods for 
purposes of murder and plunder. On one of these occasions a brave old colored 
man took the lead, and, discovering an Indian camp, he fired upon the 
unsuspecting party, and laid one of them dead upon the ground. The rest of them 
fled with great precipitation.
  One instance of alarm at this fort terminated without bloodshed. In the dead 
of night a great stamping was heard around the fort, and it was presumed that a 
large company of mounted Indians had hemmed them in on every side. All hands 
within were soon broad awake and fully armed. Every man examined his priming, 
and was ready to make a deadly shot. They disposed their force as advantageously 
as possible, and sent a man to reconnoitre from the roof. It was soon found that 
the invading host was a company of loose horses in a nocturnal frolic. The 
alarm, of course, was turned into merriment.
  The next year Mr. Bennet removed to Goshen, New York, and rented a farm for 
six years. He set his sons

136  WYOMING.

at work upon the farm, and took his gun, his axe, and hoe, and visited the much-
coveted valley. Two attempts to effect a settlement in Wyoming were unsuccessful 
because of the hostility of the Indians, Mr. Bennet losing all his labor, but, 
more fortunate than some of the early settlers, escaping with his life.
  In February, 1769, Mr. Bennet joined a company of New England people, forty in 
all, who built a fort on the west bank of the Susquehanna, which, in honor of 
the forty hardy adventurers, was called Forty Fort. This fort was designed as a 
place of security against the Indians, but, withal was to be a Yankee 
fortification, where, if need should require, the New England settlers would be 
able to take refuge from the Pennamites. Mr. Bennet selected a situation on the 
flats about a mile above the fort, and, clearing off a portion of it, put in 
some seed. 
  The following year, 1770, Mr. Bennet united with a new recruit of settlers, 
and paused at the mouth of the Lackawanna, where they, built a block-house. Here 
they were all taken into custody by John Jennings, sheriff of Northampton 
County, Pennsylvania. As Sheriff Jennings was proceeding with his prisoners to 
Easton, "at Wyoming," probably Wilkesbarre, Mr. Bennet managed to escape, and 
returned to the east. This event took place in the summer, as in the month of 
September he was at the east. - See his affidavit in Pennsylvania Archives, vol. 
iv., p. 391.
  In September Mr. Bennet made arrangements to remove his family to Wyoming. He 
had examined the ground; he understood all the hazards of the enterprise; his 
courage was equal to the danger, and the question was settled. As to property, 
he had now but little to lose, for he had sold his farm in Rhode Island

MRS. MYERS.  137

on personal security, and both the purchaser and security had failed, and the 
whole was lost. What by industry and economy had been saved in Goshen, was now 
put into as compact a condition as possible, and loaded upon pack-horses, and 
the family commenced their march toward "the land of promise." The country now 
presented a striking contrast with the picture of Wyoming which was formed in 
the imaginations of Mr. Bennet's family. The grasshoppers had destroyed nearly 
all the vegetation, and the aspect was one of utter desolation.
  They wound their way over the mountains and through the vales until they came 
to Shehola, on the west side of the Delaware, and here they were hospitably 
entertained by a Quaker by the name of Wires. The next morning "Friend Wires" 
accompanied the miniature caravan as far as "the little meadows," where they 
took refreshments. Mrs. Bennet was boiling some chocolate over a fire made by 
the side of a log. She seemed unusually sad. " I don't know," said she, "what I 
am about to meet: I think something pretty heavy." It was not long before 
several men came up from Wyoming - one bleeding from a wound made on his head by 
a club - and reported that the Pennamites had taken possession of the fort, and 
were resolved upon driving off all the New England settlers.
  A consultation was now held upon the proper course to be pursued. Mr. Bennet 
was a man of cool courage, and he had made up his mind to try his fortunes upon 
the fertile soil of Wyoming, and he was not to be turned aside from that purpose 
by any thing but stern invincible necessity. He was bent upon going on; but what 
would he do with his family? Mrs. Bennet, who was not easily intimidated, said, 
"If it were not for the

138  WYOMING.

children, I would go along." "Friend Wires" said, "Leave the children with me; I 
will take care of them." Stimulated by the courage of Mr. Bennet and his wife, 
the two men who had fled from the country resolved to return and try their luck 
again.
  Mr. Bennet was a great hunter, and the wild woods had more attractions for him 
than the old settled country at the east: for himself, he could live any where 
in the Susquehanna Mountains by the aid of his rifle and hunting-knife. Mrs. 
Bennet was not so cool as her husband, but was equally firm in her purposes, and 
unterrified by danger. The company thought to find shelter for the time being 
with a Mr. Chapman, who had built a mill at Mill Creek, and who had been a 
neighbor and a friend of the Bennet family in Goshen.
  When Mr. and Mrs. Bennet reached Wyoming, they found the dispute between the 
New England and Pennsylvania settlers had already ripened into open war. Captain 
Ogden, the Pennamite leader, had built a block-house, which was called a fort, 
at the mouth of Mill Creek, and had in his company Deputy Sheriff Jennings. Mr. 
Bennet was a peaceable man, and did not enter at once into the war, but took 
possession of a small log house he had previously built on the flats, just above 
Forty Fort. The grain he had put in, before his return to Goshen in the spring, 
presented a most delightful prospect of an abundance of provisions for the 
following winter.
  The Yankees - that is, the fighters - invested the block-house, when Ogden 
proposed a parley. But no sooner had the besiegers entered the block-house to 
hold a conversation with the besieged, than Jennings served a writ on them, in 
the name of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. They were thirty-seven in

MRS. MYERS.  139

all; and they were all taken to Easton, a distance of sixty miles, to jail. They 
obtained bail, and immediately returned. Again they were captured and sent off 
to jail, and again they were released on bail, and returned. A re-enforcement of 
270 or 280 Yankees, under the command of Captain Durkee, came on, and built a 
fort where Wilkesbarre now stands, which they named, in honor of their leader, 
Fort Durkee. The Yankees now held the ground, and proceeded to the work of 
clearing farms and building. "The children" were brought on from Shehola, and 
Mr. Bennet was comfortably ensconced in his log cabin with his family.
  But a few months of quiet had passed before the Pennsylvanians came on with an 
augmented force, under the command of Ogden and Patterson, the latter bringing 
up the river in a boat a four-pounder. Ogden captured Captain Durkee, and put 
him in irons, and took possession of the fort.
  The Yankees were now pillaged, and, as far as possible, driven from the 
country. The house and premises generally belonging to Mr. Bennet were robbed; 
grain, cattle, and every thing movable, which could be found, were taken from 
him, but he did not leave the valley.
  The Pennsylvanians now considered their victory complete. Ogden went to 
Philadelphia, leaving a few men in the fort. In the mean time, Captain Lazarus 
Stuart came on with forty brave fellows, and drove out the small guard from the 
fort, took possession of the cannon, and turned the tide once more in favor of 
the Yankees. Mr. Bennet now took up quarters in Fort Durkee, both as a measure 
of safety and of comfort. Here Mrs. Bennet contracted an intimacy with Mrs. 
Manning and her daughters, who lived on the

140  WYOMING.

flats below the fort. Her husband, by education and profession, was a Friend, 
and yet, for some reason, he was called Captain Manning. The Manning family were 
Pennsylvanians, but were non-combatants, and, consequently, could contract 
friendly alliances with Yankee families.
  In the winter of 1771, Ogden again made his appearance, and invested Fort 
Durkee. His brother Nathan was killed by a shot from the fort, Mrs. Bennet 
witnessing the event. Stuart, finding himself unable to hold out against the 
superior numbers of the Pennsylvanians, managed to steal away, when the 
Pennamites took possession.
  Captain Ogden was terribly enraged by the death of his brother, and, seizing 
several prominent Yankees who happened to be in the fort, sent them to 
Philadelphia in irons, charged with being concerned in the murder. Mr. Bennet 
did not belong to Stuart's party of fighting men, but had taken shelter in the 
fort, with his family, when he considered their lives in imminent peril. Stuart, 
with his men, left the fort, and Mr. Bennet fell into Ogden's hands; and he, 
without the slightest reason, excepting that he was in the fort at the time, was 
one of the suspected parties, and was obliged to endure the sufferings and 
disgrace of a suspected felon for five months in jail in Philadelphia.
  The explanation of this affair is to be found in the fact that an 
"inquisition" was held over the body of Nathan Ogden by Charles Stuart, January 
21, 1771, by which it was found that said Ogden was shot by "a certain Lazarus 
Stuart." But on the back of the report of the inquest is found "a list of the 
rioters in the fort at Wyoming When Nathan Ogden was killed." There are forty-
seven of these "rioters," embracing

MRS. MYERS.  141

nearly all the respectable Yankee settlers then in the country. Thomas Bennet 
was among these so called "rioters," and was taken up as a party to the murder. 
The same evil befell several other individuals, and might have befallen any of 
the number upon the list. - See Pennsylvania Archives, vol. iv., p. 384.
  Captain Manning had raised a fine crop of corn, which he had stored away in 
the garret of his log house. As he practiced upon the principles of 
nonresistance, he could neither be a good Pennamite nor a good Yankee, and the 
consequence was that he was often persecuted by both, as one or the other 
happened to be in power. When Ogden took possession of the fort, some of "the 
boys" laid a plan to rob Captain Manning of his corn. The old Quaker had two 
buxom girls, one of whom, it was suspected, had a lover among "the Pennsylvania 
boys," and it was supposed that this fact would account for certain secret 
communications which were made to the Mannings with regard to the movements of 
the Pennamites. By some means, no matter what, the family got wind of the 
plundering expedition, and were thrown into great perplexities. The old 
gentleman could not fight, and as to magistrates and courts there were none to 
resort to. While he sat in the corner brooding over his helpless condition, his 
two daughters, who were large, muscular, and courageous, hit upon a plan of 
defense; and, upon opening it to the good old Friend, it seemed to look so 
little like war and bloodshed that he gave it the sanction of his silence. The 
girls hung over the fire a large iron kettle, and filled it with water, which, 
when the assailants made their appearance before the door, was boiling hot. They 
then took an instrument, vulgarly called a squirt-gun, constructed of the barrel 
of an old

142  WYOMING.

musket, and through the chinks between the logs sent a jet of the boiling water 
into the face and eyes of the assailants. A few shots were enough to conquer the 
courage of the gallant band, who immediately took to their heels, and put 
themselves beyond the reach of the formidable engine so efficiently served. The 
assailants ran off frantic with pain, while the girls shook their sides with 
laughter; and the good old Quaker was scarcely suspected of a dereliction of 
principle, although no one doubted but that he enjoyed the battle-scene to a 
high degree.
  The perpetual annoyances to which this quiet man was subjected induced him to 
resolve upon taking a position a little farther from the centre of action. He 
consequently constructed a rude cabin upon Lackawanna Island - now called 
Scofield's Island - near the head of the Valley. The cabin was built on each 
side of a large fallen tree, which lay high above the ground. The roof was made 
of peeled bark, and the tree constituted the ridge-pole. As the Mannings were 
about to ship their effects on board of a canoe, Mrs. Manning said to Mrs. 
Bennet, "Friend Bennet, come go with us to the island; the boys shall have as 
much ground as they can work, and there is room enough in the cabin for us both; 
thee shall take one side of the tree, and I will take the other." This was too 
good an offer to be despised. Fort Durkee was now in the hands of the 
Pennamites, and every few weeks they were running over the Valley, and giving 
the Yankees who had the courage to remain at their homes infinite trouble and 
vexation - not being particularly courteous even to the women, who had the 
assurance to stick to the stuff when their husbands were driven off or sent to 
prison. Under these circumstances, Mrs. Bennet

MRS. MYERS.  143

gladly accepted the generous offer of her friend; and "the boys" also loaded 
their canoe, and the two families pushed up the stream in company, and arranged 
their scanty catalogue of furniture and fixtures in the cabin. The Bennet boys 
had managed to save some grain, which they concealed at the head of the island.
  In the mean time Mr. Bennet had been discharged, and had returned worn out 
with his tedious imprisonment, and badly discouraged. Captain Zebulon Butler had 
come on with a new recruit of Yankees, and had shut up Ogden in the fort at Mill 
Creek, and cut off his supplies. This was in the spring of 1771. Ogden found it 
necessary to communicate with the Pennsylvania officials at Philadelphia, and, 
not willing to run the risk of sending a messenger, who would probably fall into 
the hands of the Yankees, resolved upon an ingenious and daring enterprise. He 
made his clothes into a bundle, and fastened his hat on the top of it, then tied 
to it a small cord some twenty feet long. Taking up his bundle, he walked out 
into the current, and floated down on his back ahead of his hat and clothes. Of 
course, this enterprise was undertaken in the night. The Yankee sentinels saw 
the suspicious-looking object, and riddled the hat with bullets, but Ogden 
escaped unhurt, and soon reached Philadelphia. He dashed about, and soon raised 
a quantity of provisions and a new company of recruits, commanded by Captain 
John Dick. They stealthily entered the Valley, and eagerly awaited a favorable 
opportunity of throwing themselves, with their pack horses loaded with 
provisions, into the fort.
  David Ogden, a brother of the captain, was one of the company, and learning 
that Thomas Bennet had returned from Philadelphia, and was with his family

144  WYOMING.

on Lackawanna Island, set off, with a small posse, in pursuit of him. The 
capture or murder of Bennet would be a clever little adventure while they were 
waiting for a few hours for a favorable opportunity to elude the besiegers and 
get into the fort. Ogden knew the ground perfectly, and easily eluded 
observation until he found his way to the bank of the river over against the 
island. The Mannings had received the intelligence of the arrival of Captains 
Ogden and Dick in the neighborhood of the fort, and of David Ogden's intended 
visit to the island. The young Pennamite lover had made occasional visits to the 
island, and nothing was kept from his lady friend that might be of any interest 
to the family.
  When Ogden and his friends showed themselves upon the beach, Mrs. Manning 
said, "David Ogden is coming over the river. - Bennet, thee must clear out or be 
killed." Mr. Bennet replied, "I may as well die one way as another. I have been 
in jail until I am worn out; they have robbed me of all I have in the world, and 
now let them kill me if they will." The women, however, roused him from his deep 
despondency by seizing him by the arms and shoving him out of the door just in 
time to make his escape. He hid himself in the thick undergrowth, while Ogden 
entered the cabin with the words, "Is Bennet here?" The answer was "No." Mrs. 
Bennet asked, "What do you want of him?" adding, "If you should find him, you 
would do no harm to him." " Where is he?" demanded Ogden, in an angry tone. Mrs. 
Manning replied, "He is not here." Ogden repeatedly swore that, if he could find 
him, he would shoot him. He went out and scoured the woods, but with no success. 
After informing Mrs. Manning that they intended to

MRS. MYERS.  145

enter the fort the next morning before daybreak, and after satisfying their 
hunger with the good things of the cabin, they departed, but did not immediately 
leave the island. Judging rightly that Mr. Bennet would soon come forth from his 
concealment, they hid themselves within gunshot of the cabin. When it was 
supposed that Ogden and his men had crossed the main branch of the river, Mr. 
Bennet's sons went out and called him, and he came in. He sat down in a sad 
state of mind, and Martha seated herself in his lap, and flung her arms about 
his neck, and commenced caressing him, and condoling with him in view of his 
troubles and dangers; and the sympathy of the child in this instance was a 
substantial good, for it actually saved the life of the father. Ogden afterward 
said he intended to have shot Bennet, and should have done it but for the fear 
of killing the child. The judgment of charity is that it was not merely as a 
Yankee that Ogden had formed the deliberate purpose to take Mr. Bennet's life, 
but as an accessory to the death of his brother. But Mr. Bennet was in no way 
connected with that deed: its perpetrator afterward fell in the Indian battle, 
as several affidavits to be found in the archives of the state abundantly prove.
  On being informed of Captain Ogden's intended entrance into the fort early the 
next morning, Mr. Bennet, upon the pretense of going out to catch some eels, in 
the evening crossed the river, and went down to the Yankee lines, and 
communicated the information. When the Pennsylvanians made a rush upon the 
besiegers just before day, they found them fully prepared for them. They lost 
their pack-horses and provisions. Several horses were shot down under their 
riders, and a number of the party were severely wounded. Cap-

146  WYOMING.

tains Ogden and Dick succeeded in entering the fort with about twenty of their 
men, but they entered to find famine and despondency staring them in the face on 
every side, and to feel the mortification of having contributed a considerable 
stock of provisions to the Yankee force.
  Captain Dick, in his report, says: "The information of our coming was received 
by the Yankees through a letter falling into their hands, with which an Indian 
was sent by Captain Ogden." - See Miner's History, p. 131. This was Captain 
Dick's supposition. The fact is, that the credit of giving the information to 
Captain Butler is due to Thomas Bennet.
  The besieged Pennsylvanians, finding it impossible longer to hold out, 
capitulated, and left Wyoming. The Manning family had really been serviceable to 
the Yankee cause by their connection with the Bennet family, to whom they owed a 
hearty good-will, and from whom they kept no secret which might be serviceable 
to them or their friends, and yet they were not in the confidence of the Yankee 
leaders, who resolved to drive them from the country. In pursuance of this 
resolution, on the day of the capitulation, Captain Fuller, one of the Yankee 
officers, came to the island with a company of men, and coming up to the cabin, 
cried out, "What are you doing here, you Pennamites? Clear out, or I'll burn 
your cabin over your heads." Captain Manning paused not to reason with the 
fierce Yankee, but immediately commenced packing his goods and loading them in a 
canoe. He left Wyoming never to return. He settled upon the west branch of the 
Susquehanna.
  Captain Fuller now said, "Bennet, you have suffered enough. Come down to Fort 
Lukins, and you

MRS. MYERS.  147

shall have as good a lot as there is there." Mr. Bennet took his family down to 
the fort, but refused to take up his residence there. He fitted up an old horse-
shed in Forty Fort, and made it a comfortable residence for those times and for 
that country, in which his family lived for more than two years. During this 
period Mrs. Bennet presented her husband with another daughter - the late Mrs. 
Tuttle, of Kingston - and Martha began to develop extraordinary skill at 
housework, and great power of endurance.
  The tide had now turned in favor of the New England settlers, and large 
accessions were made to their numbers. Colonel Denison came in from Hartford, 
Connecticut, and took board with Mr. Bennet. He was married to Betsy Sill, this 
being the first match consummated among the settlers.
  All this time the Indians were numerous, but very quiet. When Mr. Bennet was 
taken a prisoner to Philadelphia, some of them earnestly urged Mrs. Bennet to 
come with her children and live among them; evidently considering her life in 
danger from the Pennamites, they wished to afford her shelter and protection.
  We have seen that Mr. Bennet had been sent to Philadelphia to jail as one of 
"the rioters in the fort at Wyoming, January 21st, 1771, when Nathan Ogden was 
murdered," but had been discharged after an imprisonment of five months. Another 
of these "rioters," as they were called, was a man by the name of William 
Speedy. He was somewhat in years, and was called "Old Speedy;" but his age could 
not abate the rigor of the Pennsylvania authorities, for they kept him in close 
confinement in Philadelphia for more than two years. How, where, or precisely 
when Speedy

148  WYOMING.

was captured and committed to jail we are not able to say, but his final 
examination must have taken place some time in the year 1775. Mrs. Myers says, 
when her sister Polly was two years old, and she was twelve, her mother was 
desired to go to Philadelphia as a witness in favor of Speedy, who was to be 
tried for the murder of Nathan Ogden. This journey Mrs. Bennet performed alone 
on horseback, a distance of 120 miles, most of the way through the wilderness. 
When she reached Philadelphia she found that the court had adjourned, and she 
then made a journey to Goshen and attended to some business. When the trial came 
on she was present, and her testimony cleared Speedy. He was wasted away to a 
mere skeleton. When he was discharged his joy and gratitude overleaped all 
bounds. He fell upon his knees before Mrs. Bennet, and almost worshiped her. 
"Get up, Speedy," said she; "I have done no more than any one ought to do for a 
fellow-creature." He kissed her hand and bathed it with tears. It is refreshing 
to find that in these stern and almost barbarous times the law of kindness and 
feelings of gratitude had not become utterly erased from the human mind.
  Mrs. Bennet returned home after an absence of some weeks, during which Martha 
had been nurse, kitchen-maid, and governess. She brought water from a cold 
spring which boils up at the river's edge, below a high, steep bank. The child 
would scarcely ever consent to be left alone, and this made it necessary for 
Martha to carry her down to the spring, and bring her up on one arm, while she 
brought a pail of water with the other. She did the housework for the family, 
consisting of her father, three brothers, herself, and sister, including baking 
and washing, during her moth-

MRS. MYERS.  149

er's absence. This, for a girl of her age, was no small task. She says, "It was 
a hard siege, but I had strength given me for the trial."
  Three years of quiet in the settlement had resulted in a high degree of 
prosperity. Plenty had crowned the labor of the settlers, and there had been a 
large accession to their numbers from the New England States, not merely 
consisting of young, hardy adventurers, but the old and infirm came on, with 
their children and grandchildren, to spend the remnant of their days, in "the 
beautiful valley," and to lay their bones beneath its green sod.
  Mr. Bennet built a "double log house" on his land, which Mrs. Myers says "was 
then called a good house." "We removed," says she, "to our new house, raised 
good crops of grain, and had a fine stock of horses and cattle. We sold grain 
and bought articles of convenience from the Middletown boats. Father and 
brothers hunted beaver, bears, deer, raccoons, wild turkeys, etc., and we were 
in comfortable circumstances. Game was abundant at this period; we often saw 
wolves, bears, and deer swimming the river. One night a ferocious animal entered 
the yard, and so wounded one of the young cattle that it was found necessary to 
kill it. Father and brothers seized their guns when they heard the disturbance, 
but the savage beast bounded off just in time to save himself; they saw him 
escape, and, as near as they could judge from a mere glance, it was a panther."
In December of this year (1775) the famous expedition of Colonel Plunkett took 
place. The New England people prepared to give the colonel a warm reception at 
the head of the narrows, on both sides of the river. Mr. Bennet and his son 
Solomon were at

150  WYOMING.

the breastworks below Shawnee for two weeks, and Mrs. Bennet took down to them a 
horse-load of provisions at two different times. Men, old and young, boys and 
women, were all on hand to act their part in the defense of their homes. After 
an unsuccessful attempt to storm the Yankee works, the gallant colonel undertook 
to take his forces in a bateau across the river. The first boat-load, which, it 
is said, Colonel Plunkett commanded in person, was saluted by a brisk fire from 
the bushes by lieutenant Stuart and his men, and one of the Pennamites was 
killed and several wounded. The gallant colonel lay down in the bottom of the 
boat, and ordered the men to push out into the river and go over the falls. The 
party in the boat and those left upon the west side of the river met at the foot 
of the rapids, and, upon consultation, concluded that it was so late in the 
season, and the ice was accumulating so fast, that "prudence would be the better 
part of valor," and the Pennamite army returned home with diminished numbers, no 
spoils, and no addition to their reputation for either tact or courage.
  Colonel Plunkett and his band were sadly chagrined at their defeat. They had 
not the slightest doubts of success until they saw the impregnable position of 
the Yankees, and the spirit with which it was maintained. It is said that the 
wives of the officers bespoke, in advance, a portion of the plunder: one wanted 
a feather bed, another a silk dress, and another a smart Yankee girl for a 
servant. These anticipations were all blasted, and the only reasons which the 
adventurous officers had to give in justification of themselves was, that the 
wild Yankees had assembled in thousands, and filled the woods on both sides of 
the river; that they had availed themselves of the perpendicular ledge of rocks

MRS. MYERS.  151

from which no force could dislodge them, and the river was rapidly filling up 
with ice. In all this the numbers of the Yankee force were vastly exaggerated; 
and as for the rest, a sagacious commander ought to have understood the ground 
beforehand.
  The expedition of Colonel Plunkett terminates the first period of this 
unnatural war - a war which was not only a public calamity, but inflicted untold 
griefs upon persons and parties who pined and writhed under its consequences in 
private, who never troubled the public with their heart-crushing griefs. Young 
Lukins, son of the surveyor general, was at Sunbury at the time Plunkett set out 
for Wyoming, and he went with him merely for the romance of the thing. The poor 
fellow was killed. "His death," says Mrs. Myers, "was much lamented by the 
settlers: his father was a very worthy man, and was much respected."
  Mr. Miner gives an affecting incident of the death of another young man. He 
forced his way near the Yankee line; a Yankee marksman watched his opportunity, 
and shot him down. After the battle he visited the spot, and found a hat-band 
which he judged had been cut by the ball from his rifle. Going down the river 
with lumber many years afterward, he received the hospitalities of a fine old 
gentleman. The conversation turned upon the former troubles in Wyoming. "I lost 
a beloved son in the Plunkett invasion," said the father; and, producing the 
hat, said, "The bullet must have cut the band." The big tear stood in his eye 
while he held up the sad memento of his son's hapless fate. Of course, the scene 
was painful to the visitor, who declared that he never before realized the 
extent of the calamities of war. Ah! and this was a war between brothers - a 
feud in a family.

152  WYOMING.

     Brother with brother waged unnatural strife; 
     Severed were all the charities of life: 
     Two passions - virtues they assumed to be - 
     Virtues they were - romantic loyalty, 
     And stern, unyielding patriotism, possess'd 
     Divided empire in the nation's breast; 
     As though two hearts might in one body reign, 
     And urge conflicting streams from vein to vein."
                                    JAMES MONTGOMERY.

                  REVOLUTIONARY WAR - TROUBLE WITH THE INDIANS.

  The expedition of Colonel Plunkett was the last effort of the proprietary 
government of the Colony of Pennsylvania to remove the New England people from 
Wyoming. The prospects of a rupture with the parent government now absolutely 
demanded union, and Congress passed resolutions recommending "that the 
contending parties immediately cease all hostilities, and avoid every appearance 
of force until the dispute could be legally decided." This wise recommendation 
had its influence upon the more considerate and prudent of both parties, while 
the common danger from the hostility of the savages suggested the folly and 
madness of the longer continuance of the feud. There was no difference of 
feeling between the Pennamites and Yankees upon the question of American liberty 
and independence.
  On the 19th of April the battle of Lexington had been fought, and on the 17th 
of June that of Bunker Hill. The interest of these momentous events was felt in 
the wilds of Wyoming, as will be clearly seen by the records of certain public 
proceedings which are left upon the minutes of the town. Witness the following:
  "At a meeting of ye proprietors and settlers of ye

MRS. MYERS.  153

town of Westmoreland, August 1, 1775, Mr. John Jenkins was chosen moderator for 
ye work of ye day. Voted, that this town does now vote that they will strictly 
observe and follow ye rules and regulations of ye honorable Continental 
Congress, now sitting at Philadelphia.
  "Resolved by this town, That they, are willing to make any accommodation with 
ye Pennsylvania party that shall conduce to ye best good of ye whole, not 
infringing on ye property of any person, and come in common cause of liberty in 
ye defense of America, and that we will amicably give them ye offer of joining 
in ye proposals as soon as may be."
  On the 8th of August, the same year, a meeting was held, made up of both New 
England and Pennsylvania people, at which a patriotic resolution was passed, 
which concluded with these words: "And will unanimously join our brethren in 
America in the common cause of defending our liberty."
  July 4th, 1776, the ever-memorable Declaration of American Independence was 
passed by the Continental Congress, and August 24th we find a town meeting "held 
in Westmoreland, Wilkesbarre District," at which "Colonel Z. Butler was chosen 
moderator," when it was voted "that it now becomes necessary for the inhabitants 
of this town to erect suitable forts as a defense against our common enemy." 
Forty Fort was ordered to be enlarged and strengthened. The people, old and 
young, made large contributions in labor to these necessary provisions for the 
common defense.
  By order of Congress, "two companies on the Continental establishment" were 
raised "in the town of Westmoreland," to be "stationed in proper places for 

154  WYOMING.

the defense of the inhabitants of said town and parts adjacent" Robert Durkee 
and Samuel Ransom were elected captains of these two companies. These companies 
consisted of something more than eighty men each, and they were made up of the 
strong young men of the settlement. At the critical period when our army had 
retreated across the Delaware, these companies were "ordered to join General 
Washington with all possible expedition." This order left Wyoming in a most 
defenseless condition. Nothing but the stern necessities of the Revolutionary 
cause could be offered as the slightest palliation of the cruelty and injustice 
of this measure. These companies were raised expressly for "the defense of the 
inhabitants" of Westmoreland "and parts adjacent," but they were now called to 
leave their mothers, wives, and sisters exposed to the incursions of the 
merciless savages, without any thing like adequate means of defense.
  The Indians were evidently making preparations to identify themselves with the 
English cause. They all withdrew from Wyoming and went north. There were rumors 
of their intentions to cut off the settlement, which filled the minds of many 
with alarm. In the fall of 1777, Queen Esther came up the river with about a 
dozen Indians. She encamped at the mouth of Shoemaker's Creek, but a short 
distance from Mr. Bennet's residence. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by Martha, 
visited the queen's camp and had considerable conversation with her. She asked 
her if it was true that the Indians were coming to kill us all. She shook her 
head and shed tears. Her head was gray, and she seemed to be old. She remained 
there about a fortnight.
  Mrs. Myers says, "Not long after Queen Esther left

MRS. MYERS.  155

the Valley we heard rumors of violence committed at the north by parties of 
Indians which strolled over the country. These reports created great alarm among 
the people of Wyoming. In June, 1778, about two weeks before the battle, we had 
seven head of horses stray away. The boys going in pursuit of them asked me to 
go with them and pick cherries. We had not gone far into the woods before the 
boys saw some young hickories broken and twisted in a peculiar manner. One of 
them exclaimed, 'Oh, the Indians! The Indians have taken away the horses.' This 
turned out to be the fact. Upon our return we learned that the Indians had been 
at Peter Harris's, above Scofield's. Soon after the two Hardings were killed, 
and now we, with the settlers generally, moved into the fort. It was crowded 
full."
  Colonel John Butler, a Tory leader, with an army of eight hundred, consisting 
of Indians, Tories, and British regulars, came down the river in boats and on 
rafts, and landed just above the head of the Valley, near Sutton's Mills. - 
Colonel Denison, with a company of men, went up to reconnoitre, and found they 
had left the river and taken the mountain path. By this means he would avoid the 
danger of meeting the patriots in the Narrows, where his superior force would 
give him no advantage. The hostile army came into the Valley through a notch in 
the mountain opposite to Fort Wintermoot, a small fort which bore the name of a 
family of Tories, and was surrendered at once. A scouting party from Forty Fort 
was sent up to learn Butler's position and strength, and Finch was killed and 
Hewitt shot through the hand. This took place near where Shoemaker's Mills now 
stand, between the village of Wyoming and Carpenter's Notch. The

156  WYOMING.

next day a company went up and brought in Finch's body. After the battle the 
Indians referred to the circumstances, and said they could have killed the whole 
of both parties if they had chosen to do so. It is likely, however, this was a 
mere brag, and that really fear had something to do in the matter.

                          THE BATTLE OF JULY 3, 1778.

  The settlers had made strong representations of their perilous condition to 
General Washington, and prayed that at least the companies raised in the 
settlement might be sent to their aid, but all was in vain. They now had no hope 
but in their own small resources and the protection of Providence. The old men 
and boys which were left armed themselves as well as they could, and resolved to 
make a brave defense against the savage Indians and the still more savage 
Tories. The little army numbered about three hundred men, and was organized in 
six companies. There were grandfathers and grandsons in this army, some of them 
entirely untrained, and most of them unaccustomed to military discipline, and to 
the arrangements and evolutions of an army. Mr. Miner says, "There were about 
two hundred and thirty enrolled men, and seventy old people, boys, civil 
magistrates, and other volunteers."
  Colonel Zebulon Butler had obtained leave of absence from the army, and came 
on in advance of the Wyoming companies, which were finally ordered to proceed to 
the scene of danger and alarm under Captain Spaulding. The command, by universal 
consent, was accorded to Colonel Butler. On the 3d of July, an Indian on 
horseback was seen at the mouth of Shoemaker's Creek, within sight of the fort. 
Upon finding

MRS. MYERS.  157

that he was noticed he galloped off. Colonel John Butler now sent orders to the 
people in the fort to surrender, which was promptly refused.
  The question was now mooted whether they should go out and fight the enemy on 
the plains above, or keep within the fort until re-enforcements should arrive. 
Captain Spaulding was coming on with an efficient, well-trained company, and 
Captain Franklin was on his way from Huntington with a company of volunteers, 
and it was the opinion of Colonels Butler and Denison that it was best to delay 
until the recruits should arrive. Captains Lazarus Stuart and William M'Karrican 
headed the party which were for marching out of the fort at once and meeting the 
foe. A warm debate upon the question followed, which closed with high words. The 
belligerent captains, perceiving that the majority was on their side, intimated 
that it was cowardice which influenced the views of the colonels, and that, if 
they should decline the command, they - the captains - would lead on the brave 
men who would volunteer to go out and flog Butler and his Indians. These 
insulting insinuations roused the spirit of Colonels Butler and Denison, and 
they resolved to hazard all upon the chances of a battle. Colonel Butler said, 
"We go into imminent danger; but, my boys, I can go as far as any of you." Those 
who were fierce for fight seemed to be under the impression that the enemy was 
about to retreat, or that they would run as soon as they saw danger. They were 
anxious to meet and punish the Indians while they were within reach, and to 
chase them out of the country.  This, as they might have known, and as the event 
proved, was all erroneous. In this case, as in many others, hot-headed and 
reckless men prevailed against sober counsels.

158  WYOMING.

The little array formed, and set out in the line of march in high spirits, with 
drums and fifes playing, and colors flying. Mr. Bennet was one of the "old men" 
who volunteered to defend the country. He, however, was so certain that the 
little army were about to be drawn into a snare and cut off, that he declared he 
would go with them no farther than "Tuttle's Creek" - the distance of one mile, 
or a little more - and he carried out his purpose. He left them at the creek, 
but his son Solomon went on. Soon after the little patriot army had left the 
fort, Major Durkee, Captain Ransom, and Lieutenant Pierce came up upon a gallop. 
They had left Captain Spaulding at Merwine's, about thirty miles from Wyoming, 
and hastened to the point of danger. Dashing into Mrs. Bennet's cabin, one sang 
out, "Can you give us a mouthful to, eat?" They were furnished with a cold cut. 
Swallowing a few mouthfuls, they took a piece in their hand and pushed on. They 
left the fort never to look upon it again; they were all slain in the battle.

     "Whence is this rage? What spirit, say, 
     To battle hurries me away? 
     'Tis Fancy, in her fiery car' 
     Transports me to the thickest war, 
     Where giant Terror stalks around, 
     With sullen joy surveys the ground, 
     And, pointing to the ensanguined field, 
     Shakes his dreadful Gorgon shield."
                                      WHARTON.

  When they came to Swetland's Hill, about one mile farther, it was reported 
that the invaders were flying, and they resolved to pursue them. They saw 
several straggling Indians, who, being fired upon, ran off as if terribly 
frightened. The enemy was lying in ambush, in three companies, disposed in the 
form of a crescent,

MRS. MYERS.  159

extending from Fort Wintermoot in a westerly direction into the marsh which lies 
along at the foot of the mountain. Their advance line fell back upon the main 
body without much resistance. Their plan was well laid, and they had now 
succeeded in leading the little band into the trap which they had set for them. 
When the moment arrived to strike, the whole body of Indians and Tories opened a 
galling fire upon the patriot ranks, and cut down a large number. The noise of 
the musketry and the whistling of the bullets were terrible, but the wild yells 
of the savages were still more so. The men stood the first shock bravely, 
returning the fire with great spirit, but without much effect on the left wing, 
the enemy being covered by the steep slope which borders the marsh and a thick 
undergrowth. Colonel Denison, discovering that he was about to be outflanked and 
surrounded, ordered his wing to "fall back." This order was mistaken for an 
order to retreat, and confusion and a panic followed, which all the efforts of 
the officers failed to arrest. Every captain fell either at the head of his men, 
or deserted and alone. Colonels Butler and Denison rode along the line, and 
endeavored to rally their men until they were left nearly alone, and exposed to 
most imminent danger. But the day was lost, and every man made shift for himself 
as best he might. Some ran down the plains, some took to the mountain, but most 
fled in the direction of the river. Many were struck down with the tomahawk; and 
others were taken prisoners, and suffered a still more terrible fate.
  When Thomas Bennet returned to the fort, he paced the bank of the river back 
and forth in the greatest excitement. When the firing began, he listened until 
he noticed the reports scattering down the plain. He

160  WYOMING.

then hastened to his cabin, exclaiming, "Our boys are beat; they will all be cut 
to pieces!" He was a man of strong nerves, but no stoic; he walked back and 
forth, and seemed all but distracted.
  Colonels Butler and Denison, being mounted, came in first. A few of the 
fugitives came in in the course of the evening, but no news came to the Bennet 
family with regard to Solomon until the next day at about two o'clock, when he 
made his appearance, and gave an account of his escape. He was at the extreme 
right, in Captain Bidlack's company. When they came up to Fort Wintermoot it was 
in flames, and the hostile army lay just above. When the firing commenced he had 
twenty-two balls in his pouch, and he shot them all away but one. They drove the 
enemy about eighty rods, the dead, British regulars, and Indians, lying strewed 
quite thick upon the ground. He used his own rifle, which would prime itself, 
and required no ramming down. He loaded quick, and took fair aim, and his man 
fell. When it was discovered that the Indians had turned Colonel Denison's left 
flank, and that our men were flying, it was now evident that the day was lost; 
then every man shifted for himself. Solomon Bennet steered his course toward the 
river; he gained the river bank against Monocasy Island, but a little in advance 
of several Indians who were in pursuit of him. He plunged into the river, and 
swam upon his back; the Indians fired upon him repeatedly, but, accurately 
watching their motions, he was always able to avoid the ball by dropping his 
head under the water at the moment they fired. The Indians seemed to enjoy the 
sport, indulging in a hearty laugh whenever young Bennet arose after dodging the 
ball. He reached the island, not knowing whether he was safe there

MRS. MYERS.  161

from the merciless foe.  He cautiously crept across the island, and then swam to 
the eastern shore. He was nearly exhausted, and, crawling up the bank on his  
hands and knees, he saw a naked man in the bushes, whom he recognized as 
Matthias Hollenback - the late Judge Hollenback, of Wilkesbarre. Bennet had 
crossed the river in his shirt and pants and now he divided his scanty supply of 
clothes with his friend, loaning him one of two garments, while he wore the 
other.  Thus furnished, they found their way to the fort at Wilkesbarre.
  When it was ascertained that arrangements were in progress for a capitulation, 
Solomon Bennet said, "I will never give myself up to an Indian."  Mrs. Bennet 
then demanded, "What will you do, then?" and added, "You must clear out 
immediately." Mr. Bennet then expressed some doubts as to his fate, when Mrs. 
Bennet answered, "You must go too." Andrew, a lad about eleven years old, began 
to cry when the mother said, with emphasis, "And you must go too, for if we are 
killed you can do us no good." Accordingly, all three left for Stroudsburg. 
These are the simple facts; but the bitter grief which attended these trying 
circumstances has never been written. There were many such sad partings on that 
terrible day, and some much more aggravated. The depth of sorrow which filled 
the hearts of husbands and wives, parents and children, sisters, on that day and 
the day, before, will only brought to light by the revelations of the last 
Judgment. The parting of the Bennet family was brief, but the separation was 
long.
  Colonel Butler left the fort upon the day of the battle, but not until he and 
Colonel Denison had agreed upon articles of capitulation, which were drawn up in

162  WYOMING.

                                 [illustration]

Mrs. Bennet's cabin. The table upon which those articles were written was 
preserved by Mrs. Myers until the day of her death, and is still in possession 
of the family. Mrs. Myers says, "Dr. Gustin went up to Fort Wintermoot with a 
white flag three times before the articles were fully agreed upon. They 
stipulated that the fort should be given up, but the inhabitants were not to be 
molested in their persons or property. The day but one after the battle, I 
think, Indian Butler, as he was called, marched his Indians into the fort in 
regular order, and, after drilling them a little, dismissed them. They ran about 
among the inhabitants, earnestly looking to see how they were situated, but for 
that day molested no one. Butler was a large, corpulent man, with a fair skin. I 
looked at him with astonishment, wondering how such a fine-looking man could 
come with the Indians to kill us.
  "The next day the Indians began to plunder the people. Colonel Denison 
remained in our cabin, but when Butler came into the fort he sent for him, and 
they sat down by the table and entered into conversation. Colonel Denison 
remonstrated with him upon the subject of the aggressions of the Indians, urging 
that it was a breach of a moist solemn engagement, such as are respected among 
all nations. Butler said, 'My men shall not molest the people. I will put a stop 
to it.' But when he went out of the fort the Indians resumed their plundering. 
Colonel Denison again sent for Butler, and again he came into our room and 
repeated his promises that it should cease. The Indians were quiet until the 
next day about two o'clock.

MRS. MYERS.  163

A large party then came into the fort, some of them drunk. Doctor Gustin 
wrestled and talked French with them. This was designed to divert them, but they 
again resumed their plundering. Toward night Butler came in again, and Colonel 
Denison had another converses with him, earnestly chiding him for the breach of 
a solemn treaty. Butler finally waved his hand and said, 'To tell you the truth, 
I can do nothing with them.' Colonel Denison chid him severely, but received the 
same answer, 'I can do nothing with them:' The colonel then vehemently urged the 
articles of capitulation, and that they had not supposed it possible for him to 
allow so wicked a breach of faith on the part of his men. His final answer was 
as before, 'I tell you, sir, I can do nothing with them' He then arose and left, 
and we saw no more of him. In fact, he left us to the tender mercies of the 
savages, without any regard to the articles which he had signed with his own 
hand. 
  "The Indians were now worse than ever. They came into our house, and a stout 
Indian claimed Colonel Denison's hunting shirt, a very nice one, made of line 
forty linen; with a double cape, fringed around the cape and wrists. The colonel 
objected; but, upon the raising his tomahawk, and mother begging him to give up, 
he consented. While she was unbuttoning the wristbands the colonel stepped back, 
and Polly Thornton, who sat by me, received a package of money from his pocket.  
It was the town money, in Continental bills; it afterward did the needy much 
good. The Indian, observing that something passed back to as, sang out, 'What's 
that?' 'You are taking the man's shirt,' replied mother. The hunting-shirt 
obtained, the Indian retired. Soon after another came

164  WYOMING.

in and demanded the colonel's new beaver hat. As in the former case, he 
objected; but, as in that instance, the lifted tomahawk and mother's entreaties 
brought him to terms.
  Our great chest, now in my possession, contained our valuable clothing. It was 
now robbed of all its contents. An Indian took mother's bonnet from her head and 
her shawl from her shoulders. She then covered her head with an old straw hat 
which was lying upon the ground. Captain Henry, an old Indian who had lived upon 
terms of intimacy with our family, and who was a prisoner in the fort when it 
was given up, came in with father's fine broadcloth coat on, which had been 
taken from the chest. He demanded, 'Where old Bennet?' Mother replied, 'Gone 
through the swamp to Stroudsburg.' 'Ah!' says he, stroking his sleeve, 'me old 
Bennet now. Where Solomon, that good marksman?' 'Gone to Stroudsburg.' 'Where 
Andrew, the little boy?' The same answer was given as before."
  One circumstance Mrs. Myers - probably from motives of delicacy - does not 
relate, which has been communicated by another eye-witness. From the history 
thus far, it will be seen that Mrs. Bennet was a woman of great spirit, and an 
unusual amount of physical strength even for those times. She could stand being 
robbed by an Indian with a tomahawk in his hand, but she could not endure to 
have her clothing pulled from her person by an Indian woman. A filthy squaw 
undertook forcibly to deprive her of one of her garments, when the spirit of the 
Yankee woman, even by all the fearful circumstances by which she was surrounded, 
could not be held down. She drew her clenched hand, and gave the old hag a blow 
in the

 MRS. MYERS. 165

face which felled her to the ground. The squaw, recovering, grappled the pale-
faced woman, but was soon worsted in the struggle. It was an anxious moment with 
the friends of Mrs. Bennet who were present. Would she be tomahawked on the 
spot? was the question revolved in every mind. That question was soon settled by 
a roar of laughter from the Indians, one of them patting her on the back with 
the complimentary words, "Good squaw." The vanquished old thief then sneaked 
off, woefully crestfallen. The masculine nerve of the women of those times seems 
to have been given them for the occasion, or which, perhaps, is a more truthful 
theory, were developed by the times. Circumstances originate characters. By a 
law of Providence, human nature adjusts itself to the circumstances by which it 
is surrounded. But let us proceed a little farther with Mrs. Myers's story, in 
her own language.
  "They took our feather beds, and, ripping open the ticks, flung out the 
feathers, and crammed in their plunder, consisting mostly of fine clothing, and, 
throwing them over their horses, went off. A squaw came riding up with ribbons 
stringing from her head over her horse's tail. Some of the squaws would have on 
two or three bonnets, generally back side before. One rode off astride of 
mother's side-saddle, that, too, wrong end foremost, and mother's scarlet cloak 
hanging before her, being tied at the back of her neck. We could not help 
laughing at the ridiculous figure she cut, in spite of the deep trouble which 
then all but overwhelmed us all.
  "Few of the Tories came into the fort; but a young man by the name of Parshal 
Terry, who was in the battle under Butler, came in painted, and called

166  WYOMING.

to see his friends at their cabin. His brother had been in the battle on our 
side. He was shy, but was recognized. 
  "Indians came in who appeared to be friendly; they painted and tied white 
bands around our heads, as they said, that we might be known as prisoners of 
war, and not be in danger of being kited by strange Indians." 
  Something more than a week after the battle the houses throughout the 
settlement were fired. The smoke arose from all quarters at the same time. Soon 
after this, the widows of Timothy Pierce and John Murphy - their maiden name 
was Gore - with Ellis and Hannah Pierce - maiden ladies - requested Mrs. Bennet 
to visit the battleground with them, to see if they could identify the bodies of 
Pierce and Murphy. They found the bodies of the slain broiling in the hot sun, 
but so changed that they could not distinguish one from another. The husbands of 
the two young widows, and three brothers - Silas, Asa, and George Gore - lay 
upon the ensanguined field, but the heartbroken visitors had not even the poor 
satisfaction of identifying their remains. The company returned to the fort sick 
at heart, to have their imaginations haunted for long years with the awful 
spectacle which they had witnessed, of the mangled and wasting bodies of their 
neighbors, brothers, and husbands.
  General Washington had projected an expedition into the Indian country 
effectually to chastise the savages, and to make an end of their incursions upon 
the frontier settlements. The people in the fort, not fully appreciating the 
time which would be necessary to prepare for such an expedition, entertained 
hopes of the arrival of the army of relief daily, and so remained

MRS. MYERS.  167

there about two weeks. At the expiration of this period, Colonel Denison was 
making arrangements to go down the river in a canoe to bring up his family. 
Martha Bennet had lost all her best clothes, and found that it was necessary for 
her soon to make a move of some sort to replenish her exhausted wardrobe. She 
finally ventured to sob out, "If I could leave mother and sister, I would go 
with Colonel Denison down to Sunbury, to Captain Martin's, and work, and get me 
some clothes." Esquire Pierce, coming up, inquired into the cause of Martha's 
grief. Upon learning the facts, he addressed her in his quaint style: "Go along, 
gal, go along, and I'll take care of mother and child." She accordingly took 
passage in Colonel Denison's canoe, and arrived at Sunbury the next day. She 
found a company of between thirty and forty persons from the Valley quartered in 
a house. One of the company was Desdemona Marshall, the late Mrs. Wadsworth, of 
Huntington. Miss Bennet was received with great cordiality, and invited to 
remain with them, and be one of the household.
  This family of fugitives, united by common sufferings and common dangers, was 
not to remain long together. There was a rumor of hostile Indians on the west 
branch of the Susquehanna, and a woman and a boy were tomahawked and scalped in 
the immediate neighborhood. Miss Bennet and others went to see them while they 
were yet alive. It was soon rumored that the Indians and Tories had again 
visited Wyoming, and all the settlers had left. A company commenced making 
preparations to go across the mountains to Stroudsburg, and Miss Bennet accepted 
an invitation to go with them. All the means of conveyance they had was a small 
cart drawn by a yoke of

168  WYOMING.

steers. There were some small children in the company, who were allowed to ride 
when they were tired, but as for the rest they all walked. Their journey was of 
the distance of about seventy-five miles, and nearly all the way through the 
wilderness, and crossing the high ridges which lie between the Susquehanna and 
the Delaware. The Misses Bennet and Marshall, with three other girls, 
outstripped the company, and saw nothing of them during the day. They became 
hungry, and turned aside and picked berries to satisfy the demands of nature. 
The path was exceedingly rough, and Miss Bennet's shoes gave out in consequence 
of the constant contact with stubs and sharp stones, and her feet were so 
injured as to leave blood behind them. "But," says she, "we made ourselves as 
happy as possible, amusing ourselves with singing songs and telling stories." 
They were constantly annoyed with fears of "the Indians," knowing that those 
dreadful scourges of the country might chance to cross their path at any moment. 
As the darkness of night began to approach, they met two men whom they first 
supposed to be Indians, but, perceiving them to be white men, they sung out, 
"How far is it to a house?" The answer was as cheering as it was cordial. "Two 
miles; be of good courage; we are hunting for some cows, and will soon be in." 
The young pedestrians soon arrived, and found the house guarded by several men. 
The family had gone, and most of the goods were removed. They made a supper of 
bread and milk, and lay down upon sacking bottoms from which the beds had been 
removed. They waited for the arrival of the company with great anxiety until 
about two o'clock in the morning, when, to their great joy, they arrived in 
safety.

MRS. MYERS.  169

  The morning's light came, and our travelers were early on their way. They 
passed through Easton, where they bought provisions. That day "the girls" kept 
within sight of their companions in travel. The third day, at night, they 
arrived at Stroudsburg. Miss Bennet there met her mother and sister, but was 
greatly disappointed in not finding her father and brothers. Her brother Solomon 
had been to Middletown in pursuit of her, had returned that day, and set out 
immediately, with Colonel Butler and Captain Spaulding, for Wyoming. Mrs. Myers 
says, in relation to the events of that day, "One disappointment followed 
another in quick succession, and I seemed almost left without hope."
     "Come, Disappointment, come!
       Though from Hope's summit hurled, 
     Still, rigid nurse, thou art forgiven, 
     For thou, severe, wert sent from heaven
       To wean me from the world;
         To turn my eye From vanity,
   And point to scenes of bliss that never, never die."
                                      HENRY KIRKE WHITE.

  Soon after Martha Bennet left the fort, Indians came in, who seemed any thing 
but friendly and trustworthy. "More Indians come," said they, "right away; eat 
Yankees up." This tale was told undoubtedly, to intimidate those of the settlers 
who still remained, and to frighten them away. Whatever was thought of it, the 
fact that parties of those hated, murderous, plundering wretches kept prowling 
about was a sufficient reason for the last white person to quit the Valley. Mrs. 
Bennet, with her child, came over the mountain in company with Major Pierce and 
his family, perhaps the last of the settlers who were left. The child, aft-

170  WYOMING.

erward Mrs. Tuttle, was then five years old, and she always recollected that 
dreadful journey. At that tender age she had to walk nearly the whole distance 
on foot, having no beasts of burden in the company. She remembered camping out, 
or rather lying on the ground, under the open heavens, in what has ever since 
been called "The Shades of Death." Hungry and weary, they laid themselves down 
upon the bare ground, and invoked oblivious sleep. Mrs. Bennet drew out a 
portion of her skirt, and told little Polly to lie on it as close to her as 
possible. Mrs. Tuttle lived to a great age, and we learned these facts from her 
mouth not long before her death.
  It may be a matter of wonder how so many of the settlers subsisted in the fort 
for more than two weeks, after having been robbed of every thing by the Indians. 
This mystery is explained by a curious fact. There was a capacious cellar under 
a building in the fort where a considerable quantity of provisions was stored. 
When the Indians commenced the work of plundering, as a company of them 
approached this place of deposit, some witty individual sang out, with apparent 
concern, "Small-pox! small-pox!" The old brave who was on the lead grunted out 
"Oh!" and sheered off, the others following him; they jabbered in Indian, and 
looked back at the reputed "pock-house" with no little consternation. After this 
the Indians kept at a distance from the place, invariably going round it, and 
casting at it one of those significant Indian glances so indicative of a horror 
of being caught in some trap. The "wit" of our brave fathers and mothers did not 
always "come afterward," but often "hit the nail on the head," and stood them in 
stead when all other resources were utterly exhausted. This

MRS. MYERS. 171

happy hit probably saved the lives of many of the settlers; for "humane" as the 
Tory leaders boasted of being, and "magnanimous" as some authorities contend 
that the "Red Man" is, not a hoof, nor a kernel, nor a morsel of bread or meat 
which the cruel invaders could either seize and carry away, or consume by fire, 
was left to the people, to keep them from perishing with hunger.
  Soon after the arrival of Major Pierce's company of fugitives, Mrs. Bennet 
heard a young Philadelphia lawyer uttering terrible threats against the Yankees, 
declaring that he would go to Wyoming with a company, and a Yankee should not 
set foot upon the ground. She immediately made it her business to communicate 
the matter to Colonel Butler. The very next day Colonel Butler and Captain 
Spaulding mustered their men and set off for Wyoming, preferring the hazard of 
meeting the Indians to that of allowing the Pennamites to take possession of the 
country.
  The company saw no Indians, but every where met the sad traces of their 
ravages. The houses of the settlement were nearly all reduced to ashes, the 
crops were destroyed, and the horses, cattle, etc., were either killed or driven 
off. The beautiful and fruitful vale, which in the spring presented so charming 
a prospect of a rich harvest, was now the very picture of desolation. Colonel 
Butler and his company repaired to the battle-field, and gathered up the remains 
of those who were slain on the fatal 3d of July, and buried them in a common 
grave, where the monument now stands.
  Mrs. Bennet and her daughters did not remain long at Stroudsburg, but went to 
Goshen, where they took up quarters with a Captain John Bull, "an old gray

172  WYOMING.

headed man with a large family." Mrs. Bennet "did two days' work in one" at the 
spinning-wheel, while Martha "did housework for fifty cents a week." They made 
shirts and pants, and sent them to Wyoming to Mr. Bennet and the boys, who 
remained there, and worked their land and enlarged their clearing. The 
Revolutionary war was now in full blast; there were no manufactories in the 
country, and foreign goods were extremely scarce and dear. Mrs. Myers says that 
at this period they gave "fifty cents a yard for calico."
  Early in the spring Mrs. Bennet went to "Bethlehem, ten miles below 
Litchfield," to her brother Samuel Jackson's. Captain Bull sent his son with a 
horse part of the way, and they "rode by turns." They remained among their 
friends "in Litchfield, Nobletown, and Canaan until the next spring." They 
frequently received intelligence from Wyoming, and finally began to meditate 
returning. In the fall Solomon Bennet came on with a horse to bring his mother 
and two sisters back to their loved and much-desired Wyoming home. Mrs. Bennet 
and her youngest daughter rode upon the horse, attended by Solomon, while Martha 
took passage in a sloop from Canaan to Newburg. They met at the latter place, 
and, passing Washington's camp, went on to Goshen. Here they purchased a yoke of 
oxen and a cart, and, loading upon this homely vehicle the fruits of Mrs. 
Bennet's and Martha's earnings, they commenced their slow march. They came by 
Stroudsburg, and thence through the road made by Sullivan's army; and, finally, 
Mr. Bennet's family, after more than two years' separation, were together again.
  Mr. Bennet had fitted up "one of Sullivan's old bar-

MRS. MYERS.  173

racks, just opposite to Wilkesbarre, for a house." They had an abundance of corn 
and garden vegetables, but no flour, as there was no grist-mill in the Valley. 
The only resort of the settlers, for the time, was to a hominy block. This was a 
block cut from the trunk of a large tree, hollowed, and set on end. The corn was 
put in the hollow, and bruised with a pestle hung upon a spring pole. Such was 
the demand for hominy that this rude mill was kept going day and night. The 
girls often worked the mill, and not unfrequently were obliged to wait long for 
their turn. There were now about thirty families in the settlement.
  General Sullivan had left several companies in the garrison at Wilkesbarre, 
under the command of Colonel Moore. Among the officers were Captain Schott and 
Lieutenant Lawrence Myers, who married and settled in the country. The former 
married Naomi Sill, and the latter Sarah Gore. A store for the supply of the 
garrison was provided, and was under the directions of the commissary, William 
Stuart. He had flour, and, although none could be obtained from him for the 
labor of the men, yet Miss Bennet, being skillful in fine knitting and working 
lace, could procure it for her work. By knitting a pair of stockings and a pair 
of gloves for the commissary, and working a lace cap and some silk lace to trim 
a cloak for his lady, she procured one hundred pounds of flour. All this work 
she did "nights by pine-light, after spinning two sixteen-knotted skeins of 
flax." Besides all this, she it did much about house, and often had to work the 
hominy block." Her "rule was to go to bed at one or two o'clock in the morning." 
She says, "We were constantly afraid of the Indians, and the well-known cry

174  WYOMING.

of the sentinels, 'All's well!' which broke upon the stillness of the night 
during my nightly toils, was to me a most welcome and pleasant sound." She 
notices a little incident, small in itself, but significant and fruitful in its 
results. She says, " A company of us girls would often go out and gather five-
finger-leaf for tea, and while on these little excursions we were guarded by the 
soldiers." Ah! indeed! "Guarded!" yes, and loved and wooed "by the soldiers," as 
the facts afterward proved.
  Tea was proscribed because it was taxed by the British government, and could 
not easily be obtained, and when it could be had it was drunk stealthily. The 
people generally sought the best substitute which the soil afforded, and this, 
at best, was poor enough. Congress was obliged, for purposes of revenue, to lay 
a tax on many of the conveniences of life. Those who enjoyed the luxury of glass 
lights in their houses had to pay a tax on every pane. Mrs. Myers says that 
Lieutenant Van Horn, a Pennamite, for whom she certainly had no great respect, 
came around taking account of the windows which were in the hastily-built cabins 
of the settlers. Addressing her, he demanded, "How many lights have you in your 
house?" "Oh, plenty of lights," was the answer. "Look all around, and you will 
see for yourself," at the same time pointing to the chinks between the logs. The 
functionary becoming satisfied, from the evidence afforded by his own eyes, that 
there was not a pane of glass in the old barrack, soon took his leave.
  Miss Martha, at this period, was one of the most efficient agents in supplying 
the necessaries of life to the family. We have seen that she procured flour for 
her work where it could not be obtained by the

MRS. MYERS.  175

settlers "for either love or money." She procured meat in the same way. She knit 
a lace cap for an old Mrs. M'Clure, and procured of her three pigs, for which 
she had refused the cash. These animals grew, and turned to most excellent 
account.
  Things had been so managed that most of the Pennamites belonged to the 
garrison; and some of the officers being of this class, the Yankee settlers were 
often subjected to petty annoyances. Mr. Bennet could procure no land to work 
under cover of the fort, and finally resolved to make an attempt to work his own 
land above Forty Fort. On the 27th of March, 1780, he commenced plowing within 
"the Ox-bow," a bend in the creek on the flats, between Elijah Shoemaker's and 
the river. His team consisted of a yoke of oxen and a horse. The boy Andrew rode 
upon the horse. When they came to the bend in the creek the horse seemed shy. 
Mr. Bennet said, "I fear all is not right. I think we will only go around once 
more." When they came again to the same point, four Indians sprung from the 
bushes, and one seized Mr. Bennet, and another took Andrew from the horse. The 
Indians hurried off their prisoners, and soon came up with two more Indians, 
having Lebbeus Hammond as a prisoner. Mr. Bennet exclaimed, "Hammond, are you 
here?" With downcast look, Hammond answered "Yes." An Indian mired Hammond's 
horse in the marsh and left him. They then took the old war-path over the 
mountain.
  When Mr. Bennet left home, he told his wife that if he did not return by 
sundown she might conclude some harm had befallen him. Soon after sundown Mrs. 
Bennet gave the information at the fort that her husband and son had not 
returned, and desired that a

176  WYOMING.

party might be sent out in search of them. Mr. Hammond's wife was also alarmed 
on account of his failing to return as expected. Not knowing but that a large 
party of Indians had made a descent upon the Valley, it was thought not to be 
prudent to go out that night. They fired the alarm-gun, and waited till morning. 
A company then went out, and found Mr. Bennet's oxen and horse trembling with 
the cold, the weather having changed during the night. They followed on the 
track of the Indians to the top of the mountain, and then returned.
  Mrs. Bennet and her remaining children were now left in a state of most cruel 
suspense for the space of six or seven days. Any supposition which contained  
the elements of probability was terrible almost beyond endurance. There were a 
few things possible between the worst presumption - and that was that the 
prisoners would be cruelly tortured to death - and the most favorable, which 
was, that they would be taken to Canada. Mr. Bennet was somewhat in years, and 
was afflicted with rheumatism, and it was most probable that he would break down 
under the hardships of his captivity, and fall a victim to savage cruelty. The 
barbarous tortures inflicted by the savages upon the helpless victims of their 
fiendish orgies were all like household words with Mrs. Bennet and her children. 
Their midnight dreams were occupied with the fearful tragedy of a cold-blooded 
massacre by the instrumentality of the tomahawk, the scalping-knife, and blazing 
pine knots. In their imaginations, the aged sire and his boy were often seen 
suffering the most excruciating tortures for hours, and then their bodies left 
to be devoured by wild beasts. All this was highly probable, and all the 
reasonings about it based on facts, which

MRS. MYERS.  177

the settlers in the Valley of Wyoming had more perfect knowledge of than any 
other people upon earth.
  In the midst of the gloom and despondency of the families of Mr. Bennet and 
Mr. Hammond, and the general impression that the prisoners would never return, 
three emaciated, limping, reeling figures were seen directing their course 
toward the fort at Wilkesbarre. Who could they be? As they came near, it was 
discovered that they were "the Bennets and Hammond." Their appearance almost 
seemed like a resurrection from the dead. The mystery was soon explained; they 
had arisen upon their captors at Meshoppen, and cut them to pieces, and had 
found their way back to the embraces of their families and friends. Their feet 
had been badly frozen, and the consequences were most painful. When the 
excitement of their flight was over, they scarcely had a spark of life left. 
Good nursing soon restored their physical strength, and Mr. Hammond and Andrew 
Bennet were able to get about in a few weeks; but Mr. Bennet's feet were so 
dreadfully injured by the frost that several of his toes came off at the first 
joint, and he was obliged to walk with crutches for more than a year, during 
most of which time he suffered indescribably, and required much attention. We 
shall give a particular account of the rising and escape of the Bennets and 
Hammond in a chapter by itself.
  Mrs. Myers says: "We remained under cover of the fort another year. Solomon 
married the widow Upson: her maiden tame was Stevens. Her husband was killed by 
the Indians. Upson, with another man and a boy, were in the woods making sugar. 
When the boy was out gathering sap, he saw the Indians come up slyly to the 
camp, and pour boiling sap into

178  WYOMING.

Upson's mouth while he lay fast asleep on his back. The other man they 
tomahawked, and made a prisoner of the boy.
  In the spring of 1781, Mr. Bennet, his son Solomon, and old Mr. Stevens each 
built a small log house on the flats near where Mr. Bennet's house stood before 
the battle. They raised fine crops, and had abundance until another calamity 
overtook them.

                                 THE ICE FLOOD.

        "See how the noble river's swelling tide, 
        Augmented by the mountain's melting snows, 
        Breaks from its banks, and o'er the region flows."
                                                   BLACKMAN.

  In March, 1784, the spring of "the hard winter," a heavy rain suddenly melted 
the vast burden of snow upon the mountains and plains, broke up the strong ice 
in the river, and formed it into dams in the narrows and at the head of the 
islands. At about two o'clock P.M., Colonel Denison and Esquire Myers came 
riding down the river on horseback. Seeing the three families apparently 
unapprised of their danger, one of them cried out, "Bennet, what are you about? 
The ice will soon be upon you in mountains." Mrs. Bennet had previously been 
urging her husband to take the family to the high bank across the creek. He, 
however, relied securely upon the tradition communicated to him from "the oldest 
Indians," that "the water had never been over these flats."
  After the warning given by Colonel Denison and Esquire Myers, however, the old 
gentleman gave up his policy of inaction, and "began to stir about." The big 
canoe was loaded, and went off, carrying the old people and the children. The 
boys drove the cattle

MRS. MYERS.  179

to Swetland's Hill, taking along the wagon and horses. They barely escaped, the 
water rising so rapidly that it came into the wagon-box just before they reached 
the hill. Martha staid at the house and assisted in loading the canoe, which 
Solomon Bennet and Uriah Stevens run back and forth between the house and the 
bank. As they were engaged packing up, the ice above gave way with a tremendous 
roar. Martha cried out, "Boys, we are gone!" She says, "In an instant we were in 
the canoe - I can not tell how - and were lifted up among the tops of the trees, 
and surrounded by cakes of strong ice. The boys rowed, and I pulled by the limbs 
of the trees; but, in spite of all we could do, we were driven down the stream 
rapidly. It was now dark, and our people, with lighted torches, came along the 
bank in the greatest anxiety of mind, frequently calling out, 'Where are you?' 
As we were swept along by the terrible current, and unable to make much headway 
in consequence of the obstructions occasioned by the ice, we saw the lights 
following along the bank, and occasionally heard our friends shout out, 'Keep up 
good courage; you will soon reach the shore.' We struggled for life, and at 
eleven or twelve o'clock at night we reached the shore. Uriah Stevens sprung 
upon a log which lay by the shore, and thence upon the ground. I followed him, 
but the moment I struck the log it rolled, and I was plunged under the water. I 
was fortunate enough to rise within reach of the young man, and he pulled me 
out. Solomon, in the canoe, was then driven out among the ice, and it was an 
hour or more before he reached the shore. My clothes were frozen on me, and I 
was badly chilled. I was obliged to walk half a mile in this condition before I 
could get to the fire."

180  WYOMING.

  Many of the houses of the settlers were carried entirely away. Mr. Bennet's 
house was taken down the stream some distance, and lodged against some trees 
near the creek. The other families lost their hogs and poultry. Seven head of 
young cattle which were driven to the hill were not contented to remain there, 
and were all drowned in an attempt to return. Mrs. Myers says, "Our wheat was in 
the chamber, and, although some of it was washed, we had plenty left. Our corn 
and meat were saved. Our potatoes and cabbage, being buried, remained 
undisturbed; so that, although our house was gone, we had plenty of provisions."
  Mr. Bennet now hastily put up a temporary cabin, constructed of boards and 
blankets. Mrs. Myers says, "For seven weeks we lived all but out of doors, doing 
our cooking by a log before our miserable cabin. After this we occupied our new 
double log house, which stood near where Elijah Shoemaker now lives, and, by 
slow degrees, was improved so as to be comfortable."

                    RENEWAL OF THE PENNAMITE AND YANKEE WAR.

  Mr. Bennet had just removed his family into his new house, while it was 
without chimney or chinking, when the old troubles between the two classes of 
settlers were revived. Armstrong and Van Horn, under the authority of the 
Legislative Council of Pennsylvania, had come on with a company of armed men, 
taken possession of the fort at Wilkesbarre, and proceeded to drive the New 
England people from the country by force and arms.  Captain Swift, a Yankee, was 
wounded in an attempt to fire the fort, and was lodged at the widow Brockway's, 
at Tuttle's Creek.  Many families were driven from their houses; among them were 
the wid-

MRS. MYERS.  181

ows Shoemaker and Lee, near neighbors to Mr. Bennet. In vain did they plead that 
their husbands had been slain by the Tories and Indians, and they were helpless 
and defenseless widows, and they could not leave their homes and take a long 
journey through the wilderness. Go they must, and they made the best of the 
necessity. They left a portion of their goods with Mrs. Bennet, and were taken 
to Wilkesbarre, and thence, with Esquire Lawrence Myers, Giles Slocum, and many 
others, were hurried on toward "the swamp." At Capouse, Myers and Slocum 
escaped, but the great mass of the persecuted people had no remedy but to submit 
to their fate. Mr. Miner says, "About five hundred men, women, and children, 
with scarce provisions to sustain life, plodded their weary way, mostly on foot, 
the road being impassable for wagons; mothers, carrying their infants, literally 
waded streams, the water reaching to their arm-pits, and at night slept or the 
naked earth, the heavens their canopy, with scarce clothes to cover them." What 
a reflection, this, upon Armstrong, Patterson, Van Horn, and Company!
  Mr. Bennet and Colonel Denison escaped, and went up the river to Wyallusing. 
Mrs. Bennet stuck by the stuff. She had never yet left the Valley for the 
Pennamites, and she had made up her mind that she never would. She was not left, 
however, in the possession of her home without an effort to drive her away. Mrs. 
Myers says, "Van Horn and his posse came up, having pressed a Mr. Roberts, with 
his team, to carry off our goods. Van Horn ordered mother to clear out, but she 
firmly replied that she was in her own house, and she would not leave it for him 
or any body else. He ordered Andrew and me to put things upon the wagon, a 
service which we refused to render. Some of the

182  WYOMING.

men went to the corn-house, where there was a quantity of corn; but mother 
seized a hoe, and, presenting herself before the door, declared that she would 
knock the first man down who touched an ear of the corn.
  They looked astonished, and left her. They then began to look about the house, 
and they found the big chest belonging to the widows, which was so heavy that 
they found it hard to lift, and they threatened to break it open with an axe. 
They carried some of our things out of the house; but, before they had commenced 
loading up, they became alarmed lest they should be noticed by the Yankee boys, 
a company of whom were at the widow Brockway's, and they left rather hastily, 
charging mother to be ready to leave the next morning. When they left Roberts 
went about his business, and 'the boys' came and helped us return our things to 
their appropriate places. The Pennamites gave us no more interruption."
  A few days after the above events had transpired, Miss Bennet went out to milk 
the cows very early - as she says, when she "could see the stars." John 
Satterlee came along, to whom she said, "Satterlee, what in the world are you 
doing so early?" He answered, "We have Dave Ogden out here in the woods." "Who 
has him?" demanded Miss Bennet. "Bill Slocum," was the answer. Said she, "Do let 
him go; he'll certainly kill you. Is he bound?" "No," was the answer. "Can you 
give me something to eat?" asked Satterlee. "Yes; but you must not tell where 
you got it," was the answer. A cold cut was set before him; and, after 
satisfying his hunger, he left, smiling. Miss Bennet charged him again and 
again, while he sat at the table, either to "let Ogden slip away or to bind him 
fast." Colonel Franklin, the Yankee leader,

MRS. MYERS.  183

had his head-quarters at Mill Creek, on the opposite side of the river, whither 
Satterlee and Slocum were bound with their prisoner. They took him into a canoe 
at the mouth of Shoemaker's Creek; and pushed off. Ogden soon asked, "Boys, can 
you swim' " No," was the answer. Ogden's arms were pinioned, but his feet were 
free. He upset the canoe, turned on his back, and easily shoved himself across 
the river. Slocum hung to the canoe, but poor Satterlee went down and was 
drowned. Oden and Slocum came out on the bar opposite Forty Tort, and took 
different directions. Five of the finest young men in the settlement were killed 
during these terrible conflicts, among whom was William Smith, a young man of 
fine character, and much beloved.
  "The boys" at the widow Brockway's had nearly exhausted their powder. Word 
came to Colonel Franklin, but it was a difficult matter to convey across the 
river the needed supply. Mrs. Kennedy - an old lady called Mother 
Kennedy - volunteered to convey the powder to the place where it was wanted. She 
tied it around her waist, under her dress, and brought it to Mr. Bennet's, 
whence it soon found its way up to the widow Brockway's.
  Soon after this a large company, under the command of Captain Bolin, a fine-
looking man, crossed the river from Wilkesbarre, and marched up toward the 
headquarters of "the boys." The captain called at Mr. Bennet's, and asked for a 
drink of water. Miss Bennet heard him, with a great swell, say, "I'll dislodge 
them." They moved on toward the widow Brockway's; there were four houses there, 
built of hewed logs, so situated and provided with loop-holes as to constitute a 
formidable fortification. Martha Bennet

184  WYOMING.

was anxious for the result, and soon went around the corner the house and 
listened. A brisk discharge of flre-arms soon commenced,, but did not long 
continue. Bolin's company fired upon the block-houses, and were promptly 
answered. The redoubtable captain took his position behind a large tree, but the 
well-directed aim of some one of "the boys" inflicted upon him a mortal wound, 
and he soon expired. The company then fled down the flats, bearing the corpse of 
their captain.
  When the hostile band were seen in full retreat, Miss Bennet made a visit to 
Mrs. Brockway's, and found no one at all hurt; but Mrs. Myers, afterward Mrs. 
Bidlack, being there for safety, said a ball passed just over her head. She 
returned with Miss Bennet, and spent the night. Mother Kennedy's' powder did the 
work this time, and, in fact, terminated this unhappy war. Mrs. Myers says, "The 
widows Shoemaker and Lee soon returned, and we were no more molested. This awful 
civil war was finally ended, to the great joy of all who loved peace and valued 
human life."
  The view which we present of the Pennamite and Yankee wars, it will be 
observed, is given from the Yankee stand-point, and often reflects discredit 
upon the other party. It must not, however, be understood that all the 
Pennsylvanians concerned in the wars are regarded as equally guilty, nor that 
there were none among them entirely innocent. The whole responsibility of the 
sanguinary proceedings, which occasioned so much suffering, rests upon the land-
jobbers; they were the men who kept up the quarrel, while innocent parties on 
both sides suffered most severely.
  With the termination of the last Pennamite and Yankee war Mrs. Myers's 
narration closes. What re-

MRS. MYERS.  185

mains to be done is to give a more particular account of the conclusion of this 
unfortunate struggle; and a brief sketch of the subsequent history of the 
relater of the stories which we have endeavored faithfully to record.
  The Pennamite and Yankee war was finally terminated on the principle of mutual 
concession, but not without great difficulty. At the close of the Revolutionary 
war, the "Superior Executive Council of Pennsylvania" petitioned Congress for a 
hearing in relation to the Connecticut claim, "agreeable to the ninth article of 
the Confederation." Connecticut promptly met the overture. A court was 
constituted by mutual consent, which held its session in Trenton, New Jersey. 
The decree was awarded, on the 30th of December, 1782, in favor of the 
jurisdiction of Pennsylvania. The Pennsylvanians, of course, were pleased, and 
the New England people made up their minds to submit to the decision. There was, 
however, still a question left open of vastly greater importance than the 
jurisdiction over the country; that question was the right of the soil. The 
Pennamites thenceforward made every effort to drive out the Yankees, and to 
possess their lands. A military force was employed to drive off "the intruders," 
and to take from them the fruit of their toils and sacrifices. Blood again began 
to flow, and there were prospects of a more terrible conflict than had yet taken 
place in the ill-stared valley. In the sanguinary conflicts which now occurred 
Swift was wounded, and Stevens and Smith were killed on the Yankee side, and 
Bolin and others fell on the side of the Pennamites. Untold hardships were 
inflicted upon the greatest portion of the settlers; they were absolutely driven 
out of the Valley by the point of the

186  WYOMING.

bayonet. They were driven through the swamp, that being the nearest way to 
Connecticut. This way consisted of sixty miles of wilderness, and it had to be 
traced ton foot. Esquire Elisha Harding, one of the sufferers, gives the 
following graphic and touching account of the exodus: "It was a solemn scene: 
parents, their children crying for hunger; aged men on crutches - all urged 
forward by an armed force at our heels. The first night we encamped at Capouse, 
the second at Cobb's, the third at Little Meadow, so called. Cold, hungry, and 
drenched with rain, the poor women and children suffered much. The fourth night 
at Lackawack, fifth at Blooming-grove, sixth at Shehola; on the seventh arrived 
at the Delaware, where the people dispersed, some going up, and some dawn the 
river. I kept on east, and when I got to the top of Shongum Mountain, I looked 
back with this thought: Shall I abandon Wyoming forever? The reply was, No! oh 
no! there lie my murdered brothers and friends. Dear to me art thou, though a 
land of affliction. Every way looks gloomy except toward Wyoming. Poor, ragged, 
and distressed as I was, I had youth, health, and felt that my heart was whole. 
So I turned back to defend or die." - Miner's History, p. 346.

    "And oh ! ye fountains, meadows, hills, and groves, 
    Think not of any severing of your loves :
      I love the brooks which down their channels fret 
    E'en more than when I tripped lightly as they. 
    The innocent brightness of a new-born day
        Is lovely yet;
    The clouds that gather round the setting sun
      Do take a sober coloring from an eye
      That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality:  
    Another race bath been, and other palms are won."
                                                         WORDSWORTH.

MRS. MYERS.  187

  Public sentiment in Pennsylvania condemned this brutal outrage upon the common 
laws of humanity, and the land-sharks who were concerned in it were compelled to 
modify their course. The Legislative Council of Pennsylvania found it necessary 
to adopt conciliatory measures, and finally put the New England people into 
peaceable possession of their homes, on terms which the considerate were willing 
to accept. There was an ultra Yankee party, which sprung up under the leadership 
of Colonel John Franklin, and they openly opposed the jurisdiction of 
Pennsylvania. A series of conflicts followed between Franklin and his party on 
the one hand, and Colonel Pickering, the government functionary, and his party 
on the other, during which Franklin, upon the charge of treason, was seized and 
sent in irons to Philadelphia; and, in retaliation, Pickering was abducted and 
carried off into the woods, and kept on short allowance among the musquitoes for 
near three weeks. Franklin was tamed by his long imprisonment of more than one 
year, and the people of Wyoming had rest.
  It is a curious fact that, in all these troubles with the State of 
Pennsylvania, the Yankees had the sympathies of a multitude of the people in 
this state; and there were those who suffered in common with them, not only from 
Pennsylvania, but from various other states. The Shoemakers and M'Dowells were 
Pennsylvanians, and Esquire Lawrence Myers was from Maryland. No matter where 
they were from, to Connecticut they must go, and they were pushed off through 
the swamp. Myers escaped at Capouse, and "the widows," after the brave posse of 
"militia" had quit them at the Delaware, went down stream to their friends. The 
guilt of these people, it is presumed, consisted in their

188  WYOMING.

having formed alliances with the Yankees, or taken a Connecticut title for their 
lands. Myers had married a Yankee wife, and that was a sufficient reason why he 
should be marched off through the swamp toward Connecticut.
  The Revolutionary war closed, and peace blessed all parts of the country 
except Wyoming. A five years' war between two parties which had contracted a 
bitter hatred for each other followed, in which property and life were 
sacrificed, and the bitter fruits of civil war made up a fearful harvest. But 
peace - welcome peace - finally came, and the wounds inflicted by the sanguinary 
scenes of thee fearful times were gradually healed.
  In the midst of the terrible conflicts and unexampled sufferings which we have 
been called to survey as we have passed through the preceding pages, there were 
tender greetings and matrimonial affiances. The brave girls of those times found 
means of access to the hearts of the brave lads, both in the army and among the 
hardy settlers. As, in the popular romances, love and murder hold prominence in 
the plot, and are closely related, so, in the history of Wyoming, these two 
antagonisms stand out in bold relief, and are traced in parallel lines. While 
the soldiers were guarding the girls in their excursions over the plains in 
quest of "five-finger-leaf," or the wild fruits which clustered in abundance in 
the thickets - while the thunder of the battle roared, and while old and young 
fled in dismay before the conquering foe, common danger and mutual sympathy 
engendered attachments. Glances were exchanged and hearts were won in the midst 
of civil commotions, while the groans of the slain were wafted upon the breeze.

MRS. MYERS.  189

    "In peace Love times the shepherd's reed,
    In war she mounts the warrior's steed;
    In halls in gay attire is seen,
    In hamlets dances on the green."
                                SCOTT'S Lay of the last Minstrel.

  The tender emotions originating under the fitful circumstances of the times 
were often dissipated by the sad rumors which were too common to excite 
surprise. The cup of bliss was often dashed to the ground by the chances of war 
ere it touched the fevered lip. The affianced bade adieu to his loved one, to 
play the man for his country or his party, and never returned. His fall upon the 
battle-field or at the post of public duty sent to one heart a deeper thrill of 
sorrow than that which agonized the heart of the mother who bore him. The story 
of his fate for long years with that one would be the leading fact in the 
history of a most eventful period.
  The picture which is but faintly drawn above is not an imaginary one. There 
were cases of the kind - there may have been many - there certainly was one. 
Martha Bennet and William Smith were solemnly pledged to each other through 
life, for weal or woe. Smith was shot in cold blood from the fort, when occupied 
by the Pennamites, while walking across the street in his shirt-sleeves in the 
evening, near the termination of that unnatural civil war. Miss Bennet was 
disconsolate, and for a considerable time thought to spend her life in a state 
of celibacy. William Smith was a son of the wife of Doctor William Hooker Smith 
by a former husband by the name of Smith. The death of Smith created a deep 
sensation among the settlers, and inflicted an incurable wound upon the hearts 
of a large and respectable circle of relations and

190  WYOMING.

friends. Martha Bennet - subsequently Mrs. Myers - was treated as a sister by 
the numerous family of Dr. Smith - daughters and sons - until they had all gone 
far down the vale of years.
  In the great conflict for ascendency between John Franklin and Timothy 
Pickering, many of the leading spirits in the preceding conflicts on the Yankee 
side were for submission to the laws of Pennsylvania, and consequently arranged 
themselves on the side of Pickering. It was finally agreed to hold what, in 
modem parlance, would be called a great mass meeting, on the old battle-ground 
at Forty Fort, in May, 1787, and decide the question by popular vote. A stand 
was erected for the moderator, clerk, and speakers, and the hard-fisted settlers 
were assembled to listen to the propositions of the parties and the pleadings of 
the advocates. James Sutton, Esquire, was called to the chair. Colonel Pickering 
made an eloquent speech in favor of submission to the jurisdiction of 
Pennsylvania, giving the most ample assurances that the government would protect 
the settlers in all their rights as citizens, and that there should be no more 
harassing proceedings instituted against them. Colonel Franklin then arose and 
rehearsed the grievances of the settlers, and denounced "the pretended 
compromise" and all its supporters in the most unmeasured terms. The blood of 
the old Yankees was stirred. Some were on one side, and others on the other, but 
all were excited and determined on victory. The old argument of physical force 
was not yet quite out of date, and, in the absence of fire-arms, each man ran to 
the grove hard by and cut a club. Many blows were dealt out on both sides, but 
were so adroitly parried off that no heads were broken. There was a general 
melee. Esquire

MRS. MYERS.  193

Sutton was driven from the stage and disappeared. Supposing that he was spirited 
away, and was about to be victimized by the hair-brained partisans of Franklin, 
a party scoured the woods and by-places, and found him, now left to himself. 
Colonel Hollenback cracked Colonel Franklin about the ears with his riding-whip, 
loading him with a volley of epithets. A rather informal vote to sustain the 
laws of Pennsylvania and accept the proposed compromise was passed, and the 
gathering dispersed.
  A new-comer mingled in this scene. The reader has noticed the name of Lawrence 
Myers introduced on several occasions in the preceding narrative: The father of 
Esquire Myers removed, with his family, from Germany in the year 1760, and 
settled in Frederick, in the State of Maryland. He had four sons, Lawrence, 
Philip, Henry, and Michael. The two former served the country in the 
Revolutionary war in the Maryland line, and were in the battle of Germantown. 
Lawrence had come to Wyoming, and married, and become identified with the New 
England settlers. He was a man of spirit and enterprise, and was appointed 
deputy sheriff under the laws of Pennsylvania, and exercised his functions and 
his influence in quieting matters under the compromise. His brother Philip came 
on to Wyoming in 1785, and was present at "the club-fight" He had sought the 
hand of Martha Bennet, and they were joined in marriage July 15, 1787, he being 
aged 27, and she 25 years.
  Mr. Thomas Bennet gave his son-in-law a town lot on the north line of old 
Forty Fort. On this he erected a comfortable house, constructed of yellow pine 
logs, hewed, and pointed with lime mortar, and lined on the inside. This old 
relic still stands, and, if no vio-

194  WYOMING.

lence is done to it, with reasonable repairs may live to see the opening of the 
next century.
  The storm of war had blown over, old grudges between the two classes of 
settlers were fast fading away, and society was assuming a condition of 
stability and prosperity.

    "Affliction's cloud, however dark,
      Grows lighter by the lapse of years,
    And many a sorrow now we mark,
      Once deeply felt, whose very tears
    Have left, as brighter scenes passed by, 
    Only a rainbow in the sky."
                                      ROSCOE.

  Mr. Myers purchased a lot of one hundred and fifty acres, extending from Forty 
Fort to the top of the mountain. He cleared up his farm, and raised a large 
family of children. Mrs. Myers's great force of character never forsook her. She 
possessed a strength of will and a firmness of nerve which carried her through 
dangers, sufferings, and toils enough to have broken down many ordinary women. 
For many years Mr. Myers kept a public house. His house being situated on an 
eddy in the Susquehanna, it was a great place of resort for the lumbermen 
bringing their pine lumber from the upper part of the Susquehanna and its 
tributaries, and taking it to the Baltimore and Philadelphia markets. The 
consequence was that Mr. Myers's house was thronged for weeks by the hardy 
"raftsmen" every spring. The house would often be literally jammed full, and 
nearly all the night would be occupied by all the help that could be raised in 
preparing for breakfast. But Mrs. Myers's resources never failed her; no one 
left her table without having had set before him an abundant supply of food, 
prepared in the best style of the times. She was an ad-

MRS. MYERS.  195

                         THE MYERS HOUSE [illustration]

mirable housewife down to old age; and when her circumstances would have excused 
her from anxious care, from mere habit she governed the kitchen and directed all 
the cooking processes.
  Mrs. Myers was a large-hearted, liberal woman. She had the poor always with 
her. Upon the town lots at Forty Fort were located a race of poor people - some 
of them idle, some intemperate, and many of them vicious. Whoever or whatever 
they were, worthy or unworthy of her charity, they were never turned away empty. 
Every day, summer and winter, poor, squalid, ragged, barefooted women and 
children were dismissed from her door with some of the necessaries of life. And 
she did not always wait for an application on the part of the needy. Often at 
dinner she would say, "Boys, I want to ride out this afternoon." No questions 
would be asked, but at the proper time the horse and carriage were ready, and 
often she was her own driver. She first ordered her bags and baskets of good 
things deposited in the carriage, and then off she went to make the heart of the 
needy glad. Mrs. Myers was no mean driver, even when she had become advanced in 
age. When between sixty and seventy years of age, she was left in the carriage, 
in the village of Kingston, by some male member of the family. In his absence 
the animal became restive, and set off at full speed. Instead of giving him a 
chance for a fair run up the plain, smooth road homeward, she obliged him to 
describe half a circle and come up against a heavy "pair of bars." The animal by 
this time had acquired a tremendous momentum, and in an attempt to scale the 
bars he went through them with a terrible crash; then, being in a barn-yard, his 
race ended. When a dozen men, who had started

196  WYOMING.

on the chase, came up, the old heroine was upon the seat, with the reins fast in 
her hands, with nothing about the carriage or harness injured at all. During the 
whole operation she had not uttered a word, excepting a moderate "whoa!" to the 
horse, and this she ceased to do when she found it of no use. Upon her return 
home she spoke of the event with perfect composure, attributing her safety 
entirely to the providence of God.
  Mrs. Myers was left a widow on April 2, 1835. Mr. Myers had a protracted 
illness, and during his decline and gradual approach to the hour of his 
departure his ever-faithful and kind-hearted companion never left him, scarcely 
for a day, to the care of others. On renewing the fire one night, a spark of 
burning anthracite coal struck her eye near the pupil. This injury brought on 
cataract. She had scarcely lost the sight of one eye before the other began to 
fail, and she finally lost that, and the world was thenceforward shut out from 
her vision.

        "Thus with the year 
    Seasons return, but not to me returns 
    Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, 
    Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, 
    Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; 
    But clouds instead, and ever-during dark 
    Surrounds me; from the cheerful ways of man 
    Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
    Presented with a universal blank 
    Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, 
    And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out."
                                          MILTON.

  She lived after this nearly sixteen years, an example of pious resignation, 
and an interesting instance of physical and intellectual vigor.

MRS. MYERS.  197

  Mrs. Myers was visited by Professor Silliman previous to her blindness. Mr. 
Miner gives an account of the visit in his history. Colonel Stone and Mr. 
Lossing, in turn, with other interesting tourists and authors, called upon her, 
as the most accurate chronicler of the stirring and romantic events of the early 
history of Wyoming. All make honorable mention of her. Her accurate memory of 
the scenes which came under her own observation, and those which were matter of 
common report and universal belief in the olden time, is remarked with 
admiration by the authors above referred to. But those alone who had been 
accustomed to hear these events related for years are prepared fully to 
appreciate her extreme accuracy of recollection. Her children, who heard her 
stories hundreds of times, we will venture to say, never caught her in a single 
contradiction or a material variation in relating the same facts. She never 
obtruded her reminiscences upon unwilling ears, but, when requested - and this 
was often done - she was always prepared to recall the strange events of her 
life.
  What was very extraordinary in the case of Mrs. Myers is that she continued, 
to the last point of life, to remember recent occurrences as well as those which 
transpired in the days of her youthful vigor. Her active habits made it 
unpleasant to her to remain long at the same place. She consequently itinerated 
around among her children, who were settled in the neighborhood. While at one of 
these places she learned, by overhearing conversation, and occasionally asking a 
question, all that was going on upon the premises; and when she removed to 
another place, she related all the domestic news, giving most accurate accounts 
of the whole course of business. Let it not be sup-

198  WYOMING.

posed, however, that she exposed the imperfections or weaknesses of one family 
circle to another. She never dwelt upon the faults of the absent; and, in 
speaking of one of her children to another, she always made every thing as fair 
as possible. No mother was ever more constant and earnest in the pursuit of the 
best means to establish and maintain a most cordial family feeling among her 
children.
  Mr. Myers died at the old homestead, the house which he first occupied after 
his marriage, and in which all his children were born and reared. Mrs. Myers 
died at the house of her son-in-law, Madison F. Myers, on the old Lawrence Myers 
farm, January 3, 1851. She had been rather indisposed for a few days, and 
required special attention. Her daughter visited her room at about one o'clock 
in the morning, and, finding her awake, asked her how she was. She made no 
complaint, but urged her to retire and take some rest. Upon receiving a spoonful 
of liquid to moisten her lips, she said, "How good the Lord is." These were her 
last words. The daughter retired, and the nurse fell asleep. At early dawn she 
was found lifeless. The lamp of life had quietly expired, no evidence being left 
of the slightest struggle, or the unnatural motion of a muscle - twelve days 
short of eighty-nine years of age.

        "Thrice welcome, Death! 
    That after many a painful, bleeding step, 
    Conducts us to our home, and lands us safe 
    On the long-wished-for shore. Prodigious change! 
    Our bane turned to a blessing! Death disarmed, 
    Loses his fellness quite: all thanks to Him 
    Who scourged the venom out. Sure the last end 
    Of the good man is peace! How calm his exit! 
    Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground,

MRS. MYERS.  199

    Nor weary, worn-out winds expire so soft. 
    Behold him in the coming tide of life -  
    A life well spent, whose early care it was 
    His riper years should not upbraid his green: 
    By unperceived degrees he wears away, 
    Yet, like the sun, seems larger at his setting."
                                         ROBERT BLAIR.