Monroe-Greenbrier County WV Archives Biographies.....Paulee, Magaret ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/wv/wvfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Elizabeth Burns Elizabeth-Burns@cox.net March 17, 2016, 2:44 pm Source: Handed down through family Author: Allen Caperton NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTURE OF MRS. MARGARET HANLY PAULEE CAPERTON BY THE SHAWNEE INDIANS Dictated by herself to her grandson, Allen T. Caperton, a few years before her death. The narrator of the following in after years became Mrs. Margaret Hanly Erskine. Her death occurred on the 3rd of June, 1842, in the 90th year of her age. The scene of the capture related below is located on Rich Creek, a short distance east of Peterstown, in Monroe County, West Virginia. Mrs. Margaret Erskine, whose maiden name was Hanly, was born in Pennsylvania, February 18, 1752. When quite young she emigrated to the Greenbrier settlement in Western Virginia. Her early days were spent mostly in forts, as the settlers were frequently troubled by marauding parties of the Shawnee tribes of Indians, who came from their territory west of the Ohio to commit depredations on the pioneers. In 1777 Margaret married John Paulee. After this time the fertile lands of Kentucky were attracting the attention of the early settlers, and among these, Mr. Paulee went out to this territory and procured lands. "It was in the fall (23 September, 1779) that Margaret Paulee (age 27) and her husband, John, with one infant (female) child, about one year old, set out from the county of Monroe in a journey to Kentucky, for the purpose of establishing themselves. They were attacked by a party of Indians, who, as it was conjectured, had some notice of the projected trip, and waylaid them for the purpose of making captives. There were six Indians, and the party in company with Mr. Paulee, consisted of Mr. P. and wife, Robert Wallis, Brice Miller and James Paulee. Each man was armed with a rifle, but there being no cause to apprehend an attack, only one was loaded. It was about 12 o'clock, when I was riding in front of the cattle we were taking with us with my baby in my arms. We were about five miles from the mouth of East river, when I was alarmed by the report of a gun which seemed to have been fired from behind a log, at which my horse took fright, and at the same moment I heard my husband's voice calling to me repeatedly to ride back. I turned to obey the summons when one of the party of Indians came from behind a tree, pulled me from my horse and struck me senseless with his club. What took place during this state of insensibility I never knew, except what I could gather from the Indians, but the scalp of poor Wallis and my husband's gun were objects that met my eyes upon recovering, bearing evidence of the scene that must have been enacted. There was also in our company the wife of Wallis, and also the wife and child of James Paulee. The latter were taken prisoners and placed on a log beside me after I had been restored to consciousness. It was while we sat on the log that an Indian came with the reeking scalp of poor Wallis, who of course had been killed. My husband when he saw me dragged from my horse, ran up and fought over my body with three of the Indians, using nothing but the hilt end of his gun, when one of them put his gun to his breast and shot him through. He, thinking his wife and child were both dead, and that he had received a mortal wound, left the strife and started on his way back. He fainted several times, and observed the Indians watching him attentively, expecting him to fall from the effects of the shot. Coming to a turn in the road he left it, probably thereby effecting his escape. He had lost his gun in the scuffle, but took another which he carried with him. After going some distance in the woods he lay down expecting to die, but after resting he felt revived, and leaving his gun set out again for Woods Fort on Rich Creek. When he came to New River he waded it, and by the guidance and assistance of John Woods, he was enabled to reach the fort, where he died in a short time, under the full belief that his wife and child had fallen under the tomahawk of the merciless Indians. "After recovering from the stunning effects of the blow which I had received, I observed my infant lying a short distance from me, which I took into my arms, fondly hoping to afford it a shelter; but all my care was soon arrested by the approach of an Indian, who tore my child from my arms, killed it with a club, and then threw it barbously on the ground. The child of James Paulee afterwards met with the same fate. The party who went in pursuit of the Indians found the body of my child, which had been protected from the wolves by a little dog that was lying by its side. The body of the other child had been almost entirely destroyed by wolves. "The five Indians, and one white man named Morgan, who had married and lived among them, seemed more barbarous than the Indians. He acted as an interpreter and told them their lives would be spared and they would be taken captive. After possessing themselves of whatever of the baggage they could conventiently carry, and taking twelve of the horses, placed me on my horse and Mrs. Paulee on hers and set out. "The beds were ripped open, the feathers emptied and the ticking taken. We started up the north fork of East River, an Indian leading my horse. We continued on our way, traveling in the middle of the water for a mile or more, and then went in the direction of the Blue Stone, traveling all day and all night, never stopping until late the next night, when we encamped, our captors taking care to build their fire in a sink hole. I suffered much during those two days, having had repeated falls from my horse, caused by the savage Morgan, who seemed to take a malicious pleasure in cutting my horse and causing him to throw me over his head. I could learn nothing of their purposes but through Morgan, who informed me that they intended to take us to a Shawnee town and make squaws of us. They took no other precaution to secure us than to place us pretty well in their midst, and taking ourshoes, which were returned to us next morning. "I frequently thought of attempting to make my escape, but every time I raised my hand an Indian would raise his. I ate nothing for two or three days. The savages seemed desirous that we should partake of whatever they got to eat. Those who killed my child were now kinder than the rest. I had prepared myself with a little dried beef, biscuit and cheese, which I partook of. I also had a bottle of spirits to use in case of sickness, which ws still hanging to the horn of my saddle, but becoming laramed lest they might get drunk and become more barbarous, I loosed it and let it fall in the weeds, where it may remain to this day. "The next day we continued our route in a westward direction through a wilderness, nothing occurring until we reached the Ohio River, where they placed our saddles in a conoe and crossed it, the Indians swimming beside the horses, and then accross to the Scioto, and thence to the Miami River. The Scioto we crossed at the old Chillicothe town. We forded the Miami and came in sight of the Shawnee town, where we camped, and the next morning the Indians gave signal by firing the guns, and giving a peculiar yell, that they had returned with prisoners, plunder and scalps. "The object in stopping was to prepare for some ceremonies attending all whose lot it was to be prisoners. They came shouting and rejoicing and one of them approached me and held out his hand. I offered mine in return, when he struck me a blow which brought me to the earth. The chief ofthe gang that had taken us seemed enraged at this treatment and interposed for my protection. The sympathy created by this treatment probably saved me from the necessity of running the gauntlet, which all prisoners have to undergo, and which the savages call a welcoming. "The manner of it is, a large number of squaws and Indian boys place themselves along a line, armed with clubs and switches; the prisoner is required to run an appointed distance, and to undergo all the blows that can be inflicted. I saw two boys named Moffit who were brought in and forced to run the gauntlet. They were started and one turned upon the first blow and returned it, which pleased the Indians so that he escaped the balance and was adopted. "Through the interference of the chief I escaped running the gauntlet, but my fellow-prisoner was forced to undergo it and suffered severly. We were then taken before the council and through an interpreter questioned closely. They inquired particularly if my husband was not a captain, and upon my replying in the negative, they cautioned me not to tell a lie, being assured that he was a captain by the courageous manner in which he had behaved. "Upon further consultation, it was determined that I should be adopted in the family of Wa-ba-kah-kah-to (White Bark), into which family, having been gifted with the white waumpum belt, I entered. "This chief was king of the tribe, and had been at the battle of Point Pleasant, where he was wounded. After my adoption Wa-Ba-kah-kah-to told me I must be contented, to fear no one, and not to be ordered by any of the women. My greatest and most distressing apprehension was they should take it into their heads to compel me to marry one of the Indians, and this apprehension was rendered stronger from the conduct of a white female prisoner, who had intermarried, and hearing that it had been proposed to me, and that if I did not consent I would be murdered. I communicated my uneasiness to Wa-ba-kah-kah-to who informed me that I need not fear anything, that there would never be any compulsion if I was unwilling. "I was likewise further relieved by Simon Girty, who soon after I was captured, came to see us, and informed us that we need not fear on that score, that they were not the people to compel any one to such a course. This Girty was a white man who had joined the Indians and had great influence with them. History will award to him as savage feelings as ever inhabited the breast of man. "The Indian who killed my child seemed particulary desirous to atone for his barbarity, by various acts of kindness, such as sending for me to partake of anything he got. I suffered greatly, more than I otherwise would have done from being in a delicate condition. "I saw McKee and Girty often--the former was a gentlemanly man and there were Simon, James and George, all three had Indian wives. The Indians thought a great deal of MdKee and Girty. There was an Indian chief named Blue Pocket, (Jacket) who had married a half French woman of Detroit, who lived in great style, had curtained beds and silver spoons. I was fond of visiting this house; they always seemed kind, and desirous of giving me tea, etc. He had his negro slaves; so had McKee. "Nothing of the moment occurred until the May after my capture, when my little boy was born. An old Indian squaw took a chunk of fire and conducted me to the woods, where I was left alone with nothing but a shelter of bushes over me for the space of 10 days, when I was permitted to return to the town. "The squaws seemed very much delighted with my child, carrying it through the town, showing it with great joy, seeming to think it a beauty. "There ws a string of corn brought me and a mortar to pound in, but luckily a man from Detroit, who had engaged me to make him a shirt, came with a kerchief of flour. "About a year after I had been taken, I met with a young man named Thomas McGuire, who had previously been taken by the Indians, but got out of their hands by joining a company of rangers, who informed me all about the defeat and death of my husband. "Nothing of importance occurred until the summer of 1780, when Colonel Clark made his incursion upon the Indians. The Indians knew of Clark's advance from the time he crossed the Ohio, and seemed very much alarmed. I was taken, with other prisoners, and secreted in the woods within hearing of the firing. "After the battle was over we returned to the town (Pickaway) which was entirely laid waste, where we stayed about a week-gathered of the corn and dried it, when I was taken with the fever and ague. We then left and went on fifty or one hundred miles (Sandusky Plains). I had my horse and saddle, which I was permitted to ride, while the squaws carried large packages. We went where the hunting was good and lived the whole winter on meat. I suffered with fever and ague about eight weeks. "At this place we settled, lived in camp during the winter, and afterwards built a town which was called McKeestown. I employed myself in sewing, getting two shillings a shirt and made four of them a day. "In the summer of 1782 there arose a difficulty which nearly put an end to my career. A party of Indians, headed by the same individual who had taken me prisoner and killed my child, agreed upon an expedition into Kentucky for the same purpose that had formerly taken them to Virginia, which expedition terminated by the death of chief Wabapusito, the son of Wa-ba-kah-kah-to. "The news of his death was received with sorrowful lamentations by all of the tribes. His father was inconsolable and required something to appease him for his loss. There had been taken in Kentucky two boys, Jacky Calaway, about 9 years old, and Dicky Hou, about 12, who were placed iwth us, and lived in Wa-ba-pusitor's house. "The old chief, notwithstanding all the partiality he had shown for me, was so grieved by the death of his son that he conceived the horrible idea of avenging his loss by burning within his own house the prisoners he had made, the two boys and myself. "I had observed a considerable commotion for several days before I was enabled to ascertain its cause, when by accident as I passed a blacksmith shop, I overheard the white man inquire and to my surprise and horror, learned that the old chief had resolved upon my destruction. I also learned further, that the greatest exertions had been made to avert our doom; that numbers of Indians had interceded in our behalf; that McKee had been sent for to exert his authority, and that preparations had been made to steal us off in the event of a failure with the old chief by every other means. "There was an assembly of nearly all the tribes of Shawnees. Wa-ba-kah-kah-to and another chief of considerable character, sat over the council fire the whole of the night, consulting upon the place of our death, the chief using every argument to defend, and Wa-ba-kah-kah-to intent upon burning us. This I ascertained through my own ears, for having learned enough of the Shawnee language to undertand the principal part of what was said, I concealed myself in their vicinity and heard all that passed between them. "The morning, however, after this, a messenger arrived from McKee, with a wampum belt and a talk, the substance of which was that he would not suffer the execution. "The old chief, I suppose, finding himself opposed by so many, and so violently, proposed at length that if the interpreter would give him a handsomely mounted rifle which he had in his hand, that it would all be forgotten, to which the interpreter immediately acceded, and thus a rifle gun appeased what all argument of prudence or mercy, aided by an acknowledged partiality, failed to effect. After this took place the old chief's manner and treatment was the same. Following the advice of McKee, I disguised my knowledge of what had been in contemplation. The two boys were adopted, and little Jacky Calaway was placed with me. "I heard through the Indians of Crawford's defeat, capture and death; saw the Indians upon their return from the fight with scalps. The reason they gave for treating Crawford so barbarously was in retaliation for accounts of the death of Cornstalk and a Shawnee chief who had commanded at the battle of Point Pleasant (West Virginia) and who had surrendered himself and son as hostages, and were treacherously murdered by Arbuckle's men, who were stationed at the point. "This was contrary to their commander's orders, and done under the pretext that Cornstalk's friends had murdered one Gilmore a short time before. It is stated in a book called Border Warfare that an Indian calling himself Job Hollis, who pretended friendship towards Captain Arbuckle, but betrayed him, was recognized as one of the slain at Donnally's fort, but this is a mistake, and I saw and talked with Hollis during my captivity among the Shawnee's about his exploits in Greenbrier. "The marriage ceremonies among the Shawnees consists in boiling a large vessel of dumplings, which were served out by the chief squaw in small vessels that every guest is expected to bring for the wedding. The dumplings the guests take home and eat and the day following the bridegroom goes out and kills a deer which he presents to his wife, who takes it to her mother. She gives him bread and he gives him meat. The squaws do the principal part of the courting, the men being for the most part modest even to bashfullness. "From the time of his adoption little Jack Calaway lived with me, and was a great comfort and relief. He had to take his morning plunge with the other Indians, winter and summer, and frequently has he come into the cabin with icicles hanging in his hair. I always had a fire on hand for him. "Between the period of Crawford's death and the time an attempt to ransom me was made, nothing occurred worth transcribing. I lived as comfortably as one could among savages, and apart from friends without any tolerable probability of ever meeting with them. "The hostile feelings between the Shawnees and Americans had not subsided. In the summer of 1782 there were strong but ineffectual attempts made to redeem me. The old chief replied to all their proposals that I was not a slave to be sold and that he would not part with me. I was adopted and had become one of his family. "A Mr. Higgins, whose generous exertions in my behalf can never be forgotten, tried hard. The old chief's feelings were sincere, and I do not think that any price could have overcome them. Indeed, there seemed on the part of all the Indians, the squaws especially with whom I had been living, an attachment toward me as ardent and affectionate as any I have ever known among my own kindred and friends. "My feelings toward the old chief were of course anthing by affectionate after I had discovered his desire to sacrifice me and my child to appease his anger on account of the death of his son, and when I perceived that the only obstacle to my redemption was his will, it will not be wondered at that I wished, nay that i prayed fervently for his death. "My prayer, however sinful it may seem, was followed by his death. On the day before he died I was summoned to attend him, when he expressed a consciousness that his end was nigh. Directing my attention to a point in the sky, he informed me that when the sun reached that place, his spirit would take its flight. This presentiment was correct, for precisely at the time he appointed, he expired. He expressed great concern for my situation, was fearful that my cabin would not be kept supplied with wood, and manifested a regard for me which he could not have felt had he known my anxiety for his death. "My friend, Mr. Higgins, immediately after the old chief's death, commenced negotiating for my ransom with the son of the old man, into whose custody I had gone, and after a short time succeeded by paying the sum of $200.00. Yet there was an obstacle--the Indians were desirous of detaining my child, having taken it into their heads that it was not included in the bargain. "A general council of the Shawnees was assembled before which I was summoned and their view made known regarding my child. They alleged that if they were to keep the child they would thereby have a pledge that I would occasionally visit them-to all of which I replied that I would never go without my child, that if it remained I would likewise. "After this reply and short consultation, it was announced to me that I should be permitted to go and take my child with me. when I made known my determination to the squaws of leaving, their demonstrations of sorrow at parting with me were truly affecting. Notwithstanding the prospect of again meeting with my friends, I could not but shed tears upon parting with the poor creatures, who seemed so sincerely attached, and I shed tears of both joy and sorrow. Poor little Jacky, what would I not have given to have taken him with me, when he was exclaiming "What shall I do now?" "I was taken to Mr. McCormick, where I lived until the following spring under the protection of Mr. Teays and several other ransomed captives. "I set out for my home in company with eight other ransomed captives, and had a tedious travel through a wilderness the greater part of the way, during which time we suffered much for the want of something to eat. For three days we had nothing whatever to eat and my poor child (about 4) would have died had it not been for the nourishment afforded by a few seeds with which I had the good fortune soon afterwards to secure a pheasant from a hawk, which enabled myself and child to stand it better. That evening Mr. Teays shot a wild turkey and we were able to resume the journey. "We traveled on to Fort Pitt, then up the Monongahela River to the Tigers Valley River and on to the mountains, encountering many difficulties along the way, then over a long chain of mountains to the Greenbrier settlement. From there to home we had a very unpleasant journey. Upon reaching home (May 1784) I was restored to my relations all of whom believed I had perished. "After eight days we reached Fort Pitt, when I was made sensible of the effect of habit, by being placed in a feather bed in which it was impossible for me to sleep. "My son John Paulee grew up with every promise and prospect of doing well. He went as secretary to a fur company and had succeeded in laying in a fine quantity of furs, with which he and the company were descending the Yellow Stone River when they were attacked by a tribe of Mandan Indians, who murdered nearly all, he being among the number. "Little Jacky was redeemed about a year after I left him and came to Kentucky, where he lived to a good old age and died about 18 months ago. "Polly Paulee, my sister-in-law, who belonged to a couple of squaws, succeeded in making her escape about a year before I was redeemed. She had been permitted to go on a visit to Detroit for the purpose of trading and while there gave them the slip. She was protected by the governor of Detroit at whose house she afterward married an officer named Myers. This officer tried hard for my redemption. With this man she went to England and afterwards returned to Georgetown where she was murdered by Indians." A year after her return Margaret married Michael Erskine and had five children: Jane, Henry, William, Alexander and Michael. She died in May 1842 at 90 and is buried in the ceretery at Union, Monroe County, West Virginia. Her son John Paulee traveled with John Caperton and Michael Erskine to Texas where he joined a fur trading company. While on the Yellowstone River he was killed by Mandan Indians Additional Comments: Account was dictated to Allen Caperton on Margaret Paulee's 80th birthday. I will be submitting a painting of Margaret Paulee File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/wv/monroe/bios/paulee8bs.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.poppet.org/wvfiles/ File size: 23.6 Kb