Area History:  Early Settlers, Indiana Co, PA

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As recorded by Prof. J. T. Stewart in
"Indiana County, Pennsylvania - Her People, Past and Present"
Published by J. H. Beers & Co., 1913              Reformatted by E.K.
Warner, October 1998

EARLY SETTLERS

Without doubt the first white settler of Indiana county was George
Findley, who had migrated to the Pumroy and Wilson settlement, or what is
now Derry township, Westmoreland county, in 1764. The next year he
selected the tract afterwards occupied by his grandson, George Findley
Mathews, in East Wheatfield township, near the present town of Cramer,
Indiana Co., Pa. This selection was made by a tomahawk, but these tomahawk
rights were as valid in those days as the more cumbersome surveys of later
dates. His visits to his land were as frequent and his stay as long as the
troublesome times would permit, and when the Revolutionary war began he
had a clearing of about ten acres, and a rude cabin for his bride, whom he
had married in Maryland, not far from Hagerstown, in 1776. In 1784 he
again returned to his improvement, and continued his residence there,
though repeatedly forced to seek shelter at Fort Ligonier, or Palmer's
Fort. His home was spoken of, May 29, 1769, as the "Findley Cabbins" , in
some of the application warrants of that year. There were many early
settlers whose graves were scattered in out-of-the-way places through the
township, of whom no account is given except that they were pioneers.
William Clark was mentioned as prominent among the pioneers. His
improvement was not surveyed till June 22, 1776, and is described as
situated on the "path" between Conemaugh and Blacklick adjoining George
Findley, and including Wipey's "Cabbin" (Wipey was a peaceful Delaware
Indian who was murdered by the whites) .

Wallace's Fort, erected in 1764 or 1765, Gilson's Fort near New Derry, and
Craig's Fort on the Loyalhanna, were the resort of the fleeing inhabitants
when the alarm signal of three rapid shots told that the red face was
nigh. The Wallace Fort contained about a half acre of ground and had a
fine block house within the inclosure. In any case of actual attack by the
Indians, the women and children were placed in the lower story, while the
men proceeded above, and from the portholes the trusty rifles made havoc
with the brutal foe.

The early pioneers were exposed to constant peril from the Indians.
Although they lived in times of comparative peace, the treachery of the
red man was too well known to permit them to be caught unprepared for an
attack. The Indians generally made their raids in the fall of the year.
During harvest time they often became very troublesome. They lurked in the
woods, and cut off the unsuspecting settler when he least apprehended
danger. The pioneers plowed and reaped with rifle in hand. One of the old
pioneers used to relate how he stood with his rifle in hand, while his
wife brought water from the spring. After the French and Indian war, in
1763, the Indians were not so hostile as when incited by the French. But
when the Revolutionary war broke out, being urged by Great Britain, they
attacked the settlers with ruthless and constant barbarity. William
Findley, author of a history of Western Pennsylvania, speaking of this
period, says: "During the whole time of the Revolutionary War, and for
some time after it ceased, the country was cruelly wasted by perpetual
savage depredations."

In the month of May, 1772, Fergus Moorhead, his wife and three children,
his two brothers, Samuel and Joseph, James Kelly, James Thompson and a few
others, bid farewell to their friends in Franklin county, and set out on
their journey to the " Indian Country" west of the Alleghenies. Though the
prospects of acquiring extensive possessions and wealth for themselves and
posterity might buoy up the adventurous spirits of the three brothers, it
may well be imagined that Mrs. Moorhead left home and all endearments with
a heavy heart. But being a woman possessing great energy of character, as
is shown in the sequel, and touched, perhaps, with that romantic spirit
peculiar to that period of which we are writing, she pressed forward with
a firm step and a resolute heart, determined to share with her devoted
husband the dangers and trials of the wilderness.

Fergus Moorhead had a wagon in which he placed the provisions necessary
for the journey, his farming utensils and household effects. This was
drawn by three good horses. His other live stock consisted of a yoke of
oxen, two milch cows, several head of sheep and hogs, and a lot of fowls.
The progress of the party was necessarily slow. The military road opened
out some years previous, from Cumberland to Fort Pitt, was the only one
that led at that time across the mountains, and was in many places
scarcely traceable, while it occasionally passed through swamps and
ravines, and then again over rocks and along mountain slopes, so as to
render it almost impassable. But even this road, bad as it was, had to be
abandoned, as its course diverged considerably from the point which the
adventurers wished to gain. Hence they had to make their way, as best they
could, through the wilderness. It would be useless to attempt a
description of the trials, the hardships and the dangers to which the
party were daily and hourly exposed. Beasts of prey were roaming on all
sides, seeking an opportunity to devour them. The rattlesnake and
copperhead lay coiled among the weeds and bushes, ready to strike the
deadly blow. And, most dangerous of all, the war whoop which sounded from
hill to hill, and echoed through the intervening valleys, gave warning of
the proximity of the savage, thirsting for plunder and for blood. Both
night and day they were continually in peril. With nothing but the heavens
for a covering they laid down at night to rest themselves, and forget for
a few hours the fatigue of the day in the lap of " nature's fond nurse,
calm sleep," while one of the party stood sentinel, not knowing what
moment they might be attacked by the wild beasts or the Indians.
Frequently they had to halt and cut away logs and remove other
impediments, and as there were no bridges, they had frequently to cross
the streams at imminent risk.

At the end of four weeks from the time they had left Franklin county the
party reached their point of destination. Where the town of Indiana is now
built, was the spot that had been selected for a settlement by Fergus
Moorhead, who had made an excursion into this section in 1770. For some
reason the party changed their determination, and located a few miles
further west. Having sat themselves down in the forest, without house or
shelter, and remote from the nearest settlement, we may readily imagine
that their situation was far from being comfortable. The land afterwards
owned by Isaac A. Moorhead was that which they selected for their future
home. They naturally looked around to find a spot of ground on which to
erect buildings that would answer their immediate necessities, and
selected the site of the Isaac Moorhead house. On the next morning they
commenced the work of building a cabin. They also built pens for their
horses, cows, oxen, sheep, hogs and fowls. When the buildings were
completed they were once more enabled to lie down, if not under their own
" vine and fig tree" at least beneath their own roof, and enjoy the
refreshing sweets of slumber. We next see them laying the "axe to the
root" of the sturdy oaks of the forest and prostrating them with unsparing
hands. They planted some corn and potatoes, for which they had cleared and
grubbed a small patch of ground, and after this put another one in order
for the garden. When this was completed, Joseph and Samuel Moorhead left
their brother and his family to return home. By this time harvest was
rapidly approaching, and it was necessary that provisions he collected for
the stock the next winter. In this respect Fergus Moorhead was highly
favored. The land subsequently owned by David Ralston, south of Indiana,
was then partly clear of timber and brush, and clothed with a coat of
luxuriant grass, of which he cut a sufficient quantity to supply his
animals during the whole winter.

During the summer he employed himself in clearing land for the purpose of
raising grain. The difficulties of a pioneer's life can only be
apprehended fully by those who have had such experience as this family
had, and the hardships and annoyances are almost beyond human conception.
They were encouraged with the promise made far back in the days that are
numbered with the past, that "the desert places should be made glad and
the wilderness to blossom as the rose."

The venomous reptiles and beasts of prey with which the country abounded
proved the greatest annoyance. It was almost impossible to go beyond the
cabin door without hearing the quick snap of the viselike jaws of the wolf
or seeing the subtle panther crouching on a neighboring tree, its fiercely
brilliant eyes peering through the thick foliage, or the bloodshot eyes of
the catamount glaring hideously from a neighboring thicket. It was not
uncommon to be confronted by a huge bear or two, that were at all times
ready to greet the intruders with a friendly "hug." The copperheads and
rattlesnakes were so numerous that, attracted by the shelter of the house,
they would steal into it and secrete themselves in the beds or any place
that would afford them concealment. The cunning fox, too, could be seen
loitering around, in constant readiness to commit some petty deprecation.

The cattle were in constant danger of the most ferocious of these animals,
and not infrequently it was necessary to take the dogs and go to their
relief. At night they were very much annoyed by attacks on the cattle or
sheep in their pens, and Mr. Moorhead would frequently be forced to arise
and assist the dogs in driving them away. This was always attended with
the greatest danger, from the fact that the snakes were so numerous as to
almost preclude the possibility of escaping unharmed. They were also in
constant dread of the Indians, who, when the attention of the dogs was
drawn to the nocturnal depredators of the cattle and sheep pens, might
seize the opportunity to attack the family in their wildwood home.

He had brought with him a sufficient quantity of flour to answer his
family's wants till his potatoes and corn would be matured and fit for use
in the fall. He carried the corn to a mill on the Kiskiminetas, in what is
now Westmoreland county, to be ground into meal. Here new difficulties had
to be encountered, inasmuch as he had to go the intervening distance
between his house and the mill without the aid of a road, his course lying
through the woods, up hill and down dale; through brake, bush and swamp,
his only guide the bright sun that shone in the heavens above him. At
night he had to lie outdoors, and his horses had to content themselves
with such sustenance as the woods afforded. The dangers of the day would
only be supplanted by those of the night. We can imagine that his was "no
very comforting condition" and the thought that his wife and three
children were alone in the midst of the wild forest was not calculated to
add to his peace of mind.

The wild game which abounded in the woods supplied him with all the animal
food of which he was in need, but for salt, tobacco, iron, clothes, etc.,
he had to return to Franklin county, and these articles had also to be
packed across the mountains, on horseback. This was no small undertaking
for one man, nor was it unattended by great danger, for it required three
or four weeks to make the journey. During all that time he would travel
day and night, halting only long enough to permit his horses to graze on
the grass that grew in the woods, which was the only food upon which they
had to subsist, not knowing at what moment he might be killed by the
Indians, or devoured by some wild beast. The thought that his small family
might be at the mercy of the savages, and that on his return he might find
them murdered, his home burned, and his goods destroyed, was a source of
infinite concern to. him, and but served to urge him along the more
speedily.

Under such difficulties and anxieties the Moorhead family lived for four
years, from the time they left their home in Franklin county, and located
in Indiana county, till the ever memorable year of 1776. Independence year
was fraught with important national events and individual incidents. In
that year the American colonies took active measures to shake off the
"British Yoke", and the same year several engagements occurred on land and
sea. The British employed all the Indians that would engage on their side,
to the number, as has been estimated, of about twelve thousand, but many
small parties, acting as spies and marauders on the frontier, were not
included in that estimate.

At this time of which we write Samuel Moorhead, who had been elected
captain, was stationed (July, 1776) with a small company of backwoods
militia at Kittanning. Being attacked with smallpox, he was unable to
perform his duty as an officer, and on this account went to his brother,
Fergus, and prevailed upon him to take command of the company, while he
remained with Fergus's family until he had recovered from his illness. He
then went to Kittanning, where he and his brother passed the evening in
talking about their family and friends, and planning how they would manage
their business. It was decided that Fergus should return to his home, on
the following morning, in company with a soldier, named Simpson. A party
of Indians who were lurking around the fort overheard the conversation of
the Moorheads, and being familiar with the road Moorhead and Simpson would
take in the morning -it being then known as the "Kittanning Path" -they
secreted themselves near it, on a hill, since called "Blanket Hill," about
midway between Kittanning and Moorhead's, and there awaited the approach
of their intended victims. Upon the arrival of Moorhead and Simpson, who,
though on horseback and armed, did not suspect an attack the Indians
fired, killing Simpson and the two horses on the spot, and before Moorhead
could get away they seized him and made him a prisoner. After scalping
Simpson, they stripped off his clothes, and left his naked body lying at
the side of the path, with the two dead horses.

The Indians ordered Moorhead to take off his boots and loaded the two
saddles and bridles on his back and started with him into the woods, so as
to evade pursuit, marching in single file and taking care not to trample
down the weeds, in order to leave their trail as indistinct as possible.
In this way they proceeded rapidly all day, and in the evening came to a
halt to take supper, which consisted of the remains of a deer killed some
days previous, and of a groundhog, which one of the party shot during the
evening. Having finished the meal the party prepared for lodgings by
gathering some dry leaves on which to sleep, and then made arrangements to
secure Moorhead against escape during the night. They caused him to lie
down and drove a stake into the ground on each side of him, and passed a
long rope over his body, on each end of which an Indian lay. In this way
they confined him each night during his captivity.

On the following morning Moorhead was deprived of his clothes, and was
forced to put on Indian dress. He was compelled, as the day before, to
carry saddles and bridles, and to travel all that day and all the day
following, without eating anything. They took from him his tobacco, thus
depriving him of what, under the circumstances, would have been to him a
great luxury. After traveling about fifty miles over hills and rocks,
through swamps and thickets, and crossing streams and ravines, they
reached an Indian camp. The Indian that shot Simpson, and the one who
first seized Moorhead, fired their guns and raised the scalp halloo as
they approached the encampment. This was a long yell for every scalp that
was taken, followed by shrill, quick, piercing shrieks. These were
answered from the camp by the discharge of rifles, and whooping and cries
of joy. All rushed out to meet the approaching party.

As the Indians crowded around him, Moorhead expected to be put to death at
once, but they offered him no violence, and entertained the war party with
great hospitality. Here they remained two nights and a day, and
leaving early in the morning after the second night, traveled about forty
miles, and in the evening reaching an Indian village. Here he saw the
Indians for the first time perform several dances, one of which was the war
dance, from which circumstances he inferred his hour was come, and that he
was to be killed forthwith. But his apprehensions were happily unfounded,
though he was compelled to pass through a trying ceremony. After kindling
a large fire the whole company, men, women and children, danced around it
for a long time, and then formed into two lines, armed with hatchets,
ramrods and switches. Having thus arranged matters, they called
Moorhead to run the gauntlet, but as he had never before heard of such a
ceremony he did not understand them. His captor endeavored to explain it
to him, saying he was to pass through the two lines and receive a blow from
each individual as he passed, and exhorted him to run his best, as the
faster he ran the sooner the performance would be over. Moorhead entered
upon the chase with the feelings of a man who supposed he was running for
his life, and was severely switched along the line, three fourths of the
way, when a tall chief, more devilish, if possible, than his companions,
threw sand in his eyes, which added to his pain and completely blinded
him. He
tried, however, to proceed, but in his efforts to grope along, he was
pushed about from one to another, and struck and switched, until two young
warriors each took him by the hand, and ran with him into the wigwam,
where he was quickly visited by his captor, who asked him if he felt sore.
Moorhead replied that he felt very much hurt, and inquired what he had
done to merit such usage. The Indian told him that he had done no harm,
but this was the customary treatment of their prisoners; that he had now
seen all their ceremonies, and that in the future he
would receive better treatment.

Moorhead was taken by his captors to Quebec. On the way the party traveled
very slowly, some days advancing but two or three miles. Relying entirely
upon their success in hunting for means of subsistence, it may be readily
understood they did not "fare sumptuously" every day, but of what they
had, the prisoner now always got his share. When they reached Quebec,
Moorhead was sold to the British, and there kept in confinement for eleven
months. From the British he received worse treatment than at the hands of
the Indians. His food was of the coarsest and most unhealthy sort, the
bread being dry and moldy and the meat sour and at times almost putrid.
From the second day of his captivity to the close his garments were
neither changed nor washed. During all that time his hair was not cut nor
combed, nor his beard shaved. At the end of eleven months he was exchanged
and sent to New York.

From New York, Moorhead set out immediately, on foot, for his former home
in Franklin county. Though supplied with provisions, such was the reduced
state of his health, in consequence of long confinement and ill treatment,
that he was able to carry only a small stock with him. He was obliged to
stop free frequently during the day to rest, and, as his journey was
mostly through the wilderness, he had to sleep at night in the open air.
At length his stock of provisions was exhausted, and he was compelled to
kill a dog that had followed him from New York, and subsist upon its meat.
Even this unpalatable food did not hold out, and he lived for many days on
frogs and fruits. So altered was his appearance that when he reached his
father's, in Franklin county, no one knew him.

From the day he was taken prisoner until his arrival in Franklin county he
had not heard a word of his family, neither did his family know anything
of his fate. Mrs. Moorhead had been left with three small children, and
soon after her husband's capture gave birth to a fourth, which was one of
the first if not the first white child born in the county, and was named
by his mother Fergus, after the father. In the meantime one of the
children had died of smallpox, and upon Mrs. Moorhead devolved the duty of
placing her child in the silent grave. Shortly afterwards she was visited
by her brother, who assisted her in boxing up and burying her provisions
and effects, after which she accompanied him on horseback to her former
home in Franklin county, where she remained till the unexpected return of
her husband; for all had given him up for lost.

In 1781 the Moorhead family returned to their home in Indiana county. The
articles which had been buried were mostly in a good state of
preservation. The live stock was gone, having most probably been killed by
the In-: Indians. A number of families from the counties east of the
mountains dame with Moorhead and settled in this vicinity. Among the
number were James Kelly, James Thompson, Moses Chambers, Colonel Sharp,
Samuel and William Hall, brothers, the Walkers, Doties and others.

The first thing they did was to erect a fort or blockhouse near Moorhead's
cabin (on the present site of the stone house, E. B. Campbell farm) large
enough to contain all the families and their effects. Here they remained
at night and also during the ensuing winter, considering it unsafe to
sleep in their cabins. They next betook themselves to clearing out farms,
and worked alternately on each tract, so as to give each individual an
equal chance with the others, to have his ground prepared for seeding in
the fall. While the party was at work felling timber and clearing the
ground, two or three men. stood guard with loaded rifles, so as to give
timely notice of the approach of danger, and be ready to resist an attack
from the enemy. But fortunately the Indians did not trouble them.

In the course of a few years, the settlers became comfortably situated.
They raised live stock and grain in abundance, engaged in domestic
manufactures, and erected saw and grist mills, and soon became a thrifty
come community. Their children grew up and settled on lands around them,
and each year brought arrivals of new families from the East.

As the settlements increased, the Indians withdrew, and in a little over
twenty years this section had been organized into a county, its seat of
justice had been located, and its public buildings were erected.

Mr. Moorhead died at the age of eighty-nine years, and left a numerous and
respectable progeny, many of whom are yet residents of this county. Some
of them occupy the very spot which was the scene of so many trials and
hardships in days of yore.

Dr. Doddridge tells us that in his lifetime he had noted marked changes in
climate When he first ventured into this section the snow lay long and
deep amid the unbroken forests, and the summers were short and hot. With
the first breath of spring, the season that brings such joy to the. hearts
of all in this day, the fathers and mothers of that day looked with a kind
of terror on the trees, as they clothed themselves in verdure and deepened
the gathering shadows of the pathless woods. Then it was that the Indian'
chose his season of warfare and rapine. Then was the season of their
scanty harvests, planted in fear and worked in parties large enough to
afford a respectable fighting force, while the families huddled together
in the stockades and forts, watching and waiting for the return of the
men. Not a single time did they open the gates of their forts in the
morning without the fear that the savages were lying in ambush. Then the
adventurous pioneer, who refused to listen to warnings, boasted that his
crop of corn was better worked than that of his more circumspect neighbor,
who retired within the fort at the first call of spring. If the savages
had been seen in the neighborhood, runners were sent out in all
directions. At night the runner came stealthily to the window or door, and
gently rapped to awaken the sleepers. Constant fear taught our forefathers
to sleep lightly.' A few whispered words exchanged, and he disappeared in
the forest to warn the next cabin. All was then quick and silent
preparation. No light dare be struck, not even to stir the fire, but
dressing the children as quickly as possible, and praying that the baby
would continue to sleep, for his cry might mean destruction, they caught
up a few articles in the dark, and taking the rifle from the peg feared
every shadow, while they stole off to the fort. The other children were so
imbued with fear, that the name, Indians, whispered in their ears, made
them mute.

Another attempt at making a settlement within the limits of Indiana county
was made in the year 1769, in the forks of the Conemaugh and Blacklick.
The country had been explored as early as 1766-67, and the explorers were
particularly pleased with it. It was clear of timber or brush, and clothed
in high grass - a sort of prairie. Moses Chambers was an early settler.
Having served several years on board a British man-of-war, he was
qualified for a life of danger and hardship. Moses continued to work on
his improvement till he was told one morning that the last johnnycake was
at the fire. What was to be done ? There was no possibility of a supply
short of the Conococheague. He caught his horse and made ready. He broke
the johnnycake in two pieces, and giving one half to his wife, the partner
of his perils and fortunes, he put up the other half in the lappet of his
coat with thorns, and turned his horse's head to the far east. There were
no inns on the road those days, nor a habitation west of the mountains,
save, perhaps, a hut or two at Fort Ligonier. The Kittanning path was used
to Ligonier, and thence the road made by General Forbes, army. Where good
pasture could be had for his horse, there Moses tarried. To him day was as
night, and night as the day. He slept only while his horse was feeding;
nor did he give rest to his body nor ease to his mind until he returned
with his sack full of corn. Moses Chambers was not the only one who had to
encounter the fatigue and trouble of procuring supplies from Franklin
county. All had to do so, such was the condition of this country, and such
the prospect of settlers after the peace of 1763. A scarcity of provisions
was one of the constant dangers of the early settlers, and, to make the
case worse, there were no mills, even after they began to raise grain. The
first year some Indian corn was planted. It grew and in the form of
"roasting ears" was gladly gathered for food. One can almost see the hardy
dame, with her home-made apron of "lye color and white" pinned round her
waist, stepping cautiously between the rows of corn, selecting the finest,
that is to say the best ears for dinner, ay, and for breakfast and supper,
too. About the year 1773 William B. Bracken built a mill on Blacklick,
which was a great convenience to the settlers. They marked out a path by
which they traveled to Bracken's mill. Around and near him gathered John
Stewart, Joseph McCartney, John Evans, Thomas Barr, and John Hustin. About
the year 1774, Samuel Moorhead commenced building a mill on Stony run, but
before it was completed the settlers were driven off by the Indians. They
fled to what was then called the Sewickley settlement. This was during the
Dunmore war. However, they returned in the fall to their improvements, and
Moorhead completed the mill.

Along and near Crooked creek located Andrew Sharp (killed by the Indians
in 1794), Benjamin Walker, Israel Thomas, James McCreight, Jacob Anthony,
David Peelor, and John Patison. Among the early settlers along the
Conemaugh river, Blacklick creek, and its tributaries, and in the
'southern part of the county, were Charles Campbell, Samuel Dixon, John
McCrea, John Harrold, Phillip Altman, Patrick McGee, Archey Coleman,
George Repine, Malachia Sutton, William Loughry, Jonathan Doty, Jacob
Bricker, James Ewing, James Ferguson, Peter Fair, James 'McComb, Samuel
McCartney, John Neal, Alexander Rhea, William Robertson, Daniel Repine,
John Shields, Robert Liggett, David Reed, William Graham, Ephraim Wale
lace, George Mabon, the Hices, Hugh St. Clair, James McDonald, and William
Clark.

The northern part of the county, in the early days called "the Mahoning
country" was settled at a more recent date. Among the early settlers were
the Bradys, the Thompsons, William Work, Hugh Cannon, John Leasure,
William McCall, John Park, William McCrery, the Pierces, Robert Hamilton,
Joshua Lewis, and John Jamison. In addition to those named, among the
early settlers, in the central portion of the county, were Andrew Allison,
Thomas Allison, Gawin Adams, George Trimble, Alexander Taylor, John Lytle,
Daniel Elgin, Conrad Rice, Thomas Wilkins, Daniel McKisson, James
Mitchell, Andrew Dixon, John Agey, Blaney Adair, Thomas McCrea, Thomas
Burns, William Lowry, John Wilson, Robert Pilson, John Thompson, Patrick
Lydick, James Simpson, Christopher Stuchell and William Smith.

Little is known or recorded concerning the adventures of the settlers
during the war of the Revolution, and the subsequent campaigns of Harmar,
St. Clair, and Wayne. It is probable their residence here was precarious
and unsettled. Every settler was a soldier, and preferred, indeed,
occasionally the use of the rifle to that of the axe or the plow. John
Thompson was one of the very few who remained here. He erected a
blockhouse six miles northeast of Indiana borough, where he resided
throughout all the troubles of the frontier. After Wayne's treaty, in
1795, the settlers again returned to their homes, and resumed the
occupations of peace.