Chapter XV
"On Susquehanna's side, fair Wyoming!
Although the wild flowers on thy ruined wall
And roofless homes a sad remembrance bring
Of what thy gentle people did befall,
Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of all
That see the Atlantic's wave their morn restore."
Campbell.
"Thou com'st in beauty on my gaze at last,
'On Susquehanna's side, fair Wyoming,'
Image of many a dream, in hours long past,
When life was in its bud and blossoming,
And waters, gushing from the fountain spring
Of pure enthusiast thought, dimm'd my young eyes,
As by the poet borne, on unseen wing,
I breathed, in fancy, 'neath thy cloudless skies,
The summer's air, and heard her echoed harmonies."
Halleck
LEFT Easton for the Valley of Wyoming, sixty miles distant, at three o'clock in the morning. The storm was over, and the broken clouds, flitting upon a cool wind from the northwest, permitted a few gleams of moonlight to stray down to earth. Although there were but three passengers in the coach (two ladies and an infant), I took a seat with the driver, for there were promises of a bright morning and magnificent scenery. The coachman was a good-natured Pennsylvania Dutchman, rather taciturn, and such an adept in his profession that his practiced ear detected the absence of a shoe from the foot of one of the "leaders" when three miles from Easton. A blacksmith by the road side was aroused, the shoe was replaced, and within an hour we had ascended the fertile slopes of the Delaware and Lehigh, to Nazareth, a Moravian village about half way between Easton and the Wind-gap in the Blue Mountains. The day had not yet dawned, yet the snatches of moonlight enabled me to observe the uniform and neat appearance of the houses in the village.1 We were now high among the hills, whence the mists from the rivers and valleys had rolled up when the storm ceased at midnight, and I was glad to take shelter from the chilling vapor within the coach. The seats were spacious, and, having one in exclusive possession, I made a couch of it, using the carpet bag of one of the a pillow, and slept soundly for an hour. When I awoke, the morning light was
* Nazareth is seven miles northwest of Easton. It contains a church, a sisters' house, a large and flourishing seminary for boys, and the usual dead-house and cemetery peculiar to the sect. The place was named, and, it may be said, founded, by the Rev. George Whitcfield, the eloquent cosmopolite preacher. He had labored in conjunction with the Moravians in Georgia. When, about 1740, they refused to take up arms for the governor of the province, and left Georgia for the more peaceful domain of William Penn, Whitcfield accompanied them. He began to erect a large building "in the Forks of the Delaware" as a school for negro children, while the Moravians, under Bishop Nischman, purchased the site and founded the town of Bethlehem, about ten miles distant. Whitefield named his domain, or manor, Nazareth. He did not complete his building, but sold "the manor of Nazareth" to the Moravians, who finished the edifice. It is still standing, in the eastern border of the village. The Moravian Sisters of Bethlehem wrought an elegant banner, and presented it to Count Pulaski. A drawing of the banner, and the beautiful Consecration Hymn, written by Longfellow, will be found in another part of this work.
Passage through the Wind-gap--The great Walk.--Roscommon Tavern.--An Office-hunter.
338abroad, and we were within half a mile of the Wind-gap. I again mounted the driver's box, for all around us Nature was displaying her attractions in the plenitude of her magnificence and beauty. Before us, and in close proximity, were the Blue Mountains, their summits curtained in a white fog that was rising toward the loftier clouds. Behind us, far down into the valleys and intervales, orchards, corn-fields, forests, and meadows were spread out like a carpet of mellow tints, and on every side the gentle breeze was shaking the rain-drops from the boughs in diamond showers, glittering in the first rays of the morning sun. While the bleating of sheep and the bellowing of cattle reminded us of cultivated fields behind us, the whirring of the pheasant, the drumming of the partridge, and the whistling of the quail among the rocks and lofty evergreens around betokened the uncultivated wilderness.
The Wind-gap, unlike the far-famed Water-gap in the same cluster of mountains, is a deep depression of the summit of the range, is quite level on both sides of the road for a considerable distance, and exhibits none of the majestic precipices of the latter. The earth is covered with masses of angular rocks, among which shoot up cedar and other trees and shrubs, chiefly of the coniferæ order; but the road, by industry, is made quite smooth. The hills rise on each side of the Gap to an altitude of eight hundred feet, clothed and crowned with trees. It was through this pass in the mountains that two expert walkers crossed to a spur of the Pocono when measuring the extent of a district of country northwest of the Delaware, for the proprietors of Pennsylvania, in 1737. The Indians had agreed, for a certain consideration, to sell a tract of land included within prescribed points on the river, and extending back as far as a man could "walk in a day and a half." The proprietors immediately advertised for the most expert walkers in the province, and they performed a journey, in the day and a half, of eighty-six miles! The Indians were greatly dissatisfied, for they had no idea that such a distance could be accomplished, and it included some of their finest lands. The walkers ran a considerable portion of the way. They ate as they traveled, and never stopped from sunrise until sunset. One old Indian said, bitterly, when complaining of the cheat, "No sit down to smoke--no shoot a squirrel, but lun, lun, lun, all day long." The Indians, supposing the walk would end not far from the Wind-gap, had collected there in great numbers; but, to their astonishment, the walkers reached that point on the evening of the first day.
The turnpike road through the Wind-gap, and across the valleys and mountains, to Wilkes-barre, was made by Sullivan for the passage of his troops in 1779, when marching to join General Clinton on the Tioga. Before that time the pass was little more than a rough Indian war-path, and its obscurity made the hurried flight of the people from Wyoming over the solitary region more perplexing and dreadful than it would be now.
We descended from the Wind-gap, on the western.side of the mountain, along a steep and winding road, skirting a precipice, crossed a beautiful mountain stream, and alighted at the Roscommon Tavern, among the hills, where we breakfasted at seven o'clock. At the table we were honored by the presence of one of the five candidates for the office of sheriff of Monroe county. He was out canvassing the district for votes, and a more earnest, intelligent, good-humored man I have seldom met. His strongest claim to the honors and emoluments of the office seemed to rest upon the fact that he was a representative of New England pedagogueism in the Wyoming Valley as early as "forty years ago had taught the "young ideas" of the fathers of three Wilkesbarre lawyers "how to shoot," and, therefore, he assumed to have an undisputed right to the privilege of hanging the inhabitants of a neighboring county. He accompanied us to the next tavern, the proprietor of which, a fat little man, though already bearing upon his shoulders the responsibilities of a postmaster, was another aspirant ambitiously wheezing for the office of sheriff. Both were too good-natured to be made rivals;
* The Water-gap is the passage through the Kittatinny or Blue Mountains of the Delaware River, about three miles from Stroudsburg. This village is upon the Delaware, twenty-four miles above Easton, and was the first settlement which the fugitives from Wyoming reached when fleeing from the valley in 1778 There was a fort there, called Hamilton, during the French and Indian war, and near the eastern end of the village Fort Penn was built during the Revolution.
Ascent of the Pocono.--The Mountain Scenery.--Solitude of the Region.--A Soldier Coachman.--First View of Wyoming
339they were only different candidates professing the same political faith. We left them comparing notes over a glass of whisky, and in the course of a few hours we had crossed fertile little valleys and parallel ranges of mountains, and begun the toilsome ascent of the famous Pocono. From base to summit, the distance, by the road, is about three miles, one third of which is a straight line up the mountain at an angle of thirty-five degrees. Then our way was along the precipitous sides of the hills, from which we could look upon the tops of tall trees, hundreds of feet below. It was noon when we reached the level summit, two thousand feet above tide water; and there, three fourths of a mile from the eastern brow of the mountain, John Smith keeps a tavern, and furnished us with an excellent dinner.
The road upon the top of Pocono is perfectly level a distance of four miles; and all the way to the Wilkesbarre Mountains, twenty miles, there is but little variation in the altitude. On the left, near Smith's, is an elevation called the Knob, about two hundred feet above the general level, from the apex of which it is said the highest peaks of the Catskills, sixty miles distant, may be distinctly seen on a clear morning. All around is a perfect wilderness as far as the eye can reach, and so trifling are the variations from a level, that the country appears like a vast plain. The whole is covered with shrub oaks, from three to ten feet in height, from which rise lofty pines, cedars, and tamaracks, interspersed with a few birch and chestnut trees, and occasionally a mountain ash with its blazing berries. The shrub oaks, at a distance, appeared like the soft light green grass of a meadow, and groups of lofty evergreens dotted the expanse like orchards upon a prairie. Here and there a huge blasted pine, black and leafless, towered above the rest, a
'Stern dweller of the mountain! with its feet
Grasping the crag, and lifting to the sky
Its haughty crest!"
Vast cranberry marshes spread out upon this high, rolling table-land, and supply the surrounding settlements with an abundance of that excellent fruit. Indeed, the whole region is almost a continuous morass, and the road, a large portion of the way, is a causeway made of logs. Here the gray eagle wheels undisturbed, the bear makes his lair, and the wild deer roam in abundance. These, with the flocks of pheasants, and the numerous rabbits that burrow upon this wild warren, invite the adventurous huntsman, willing to "camp out" in the wilderness. No settlements enliven the way; and the cabins and saw-mills of lumbermen, where the road intersects the streams, are the only evidences of a resident population, except three or four places where a few acres have been redeemed from the poverty of nature. This wilderness extends more than a hundred miles between the Delaware and Susquehanna Rivers, and a death-like solitude broods over the region.
I kept my seat upon the driver's box all the way from the Wind-gap to Wilkesbarre, charmed by the romance of the scene, rendered still more wild and picturesque by the dark masses of cumulous clouds that overspread the heavens in the afternoon. The wind blew very cold from the northwest, and the driver assured me that, during the hottest weather in summer, the air is cool and bracing upon this lofty highway. Poor fellow, he was an emaciated, blue-lipped soldier, recently returned from the battle-fields of Mexico, where the vomito and ague had shattered a hitherto strong constitution, and opened his firm-knit system to the free entrance of diseases of every kind. He was at Vera Cruz and Cerro Gordo. He lay sick a whole summer at Perote, and now had resumed the whip with the feeble hope of regaining lost health.
We crossed the upper waters of the Lehigh at Stoddartsville, in the midst of the great lumber country, and reached the brow of the Wilkesbarre Mountains just before sunset. There a scene of rare grandeur and beauty was revealed, heightened by contrast with the rugged and forbidding aspect of the region we had just traversed. The heavy clouds, like a thick curtain, were lifted in the west to the apparent height of a celestial degree, and allowed the last rays of the evening sun to flood the deep valley below us with their golden light. The natural beauties of the vale, reposing in shadow, were for a moment brought
A charming Landscape.--Arrival at Wilkesbarre.--Charles Minor, Esq.--His Picture of old Wyoming
340out in bold outline; and from our point of view we gazed upon a picture such as the painter's art can not imitate. Like a thread of silver the Susquehanna appeared, in its winding course, among the lofty, overshadowing trees, upon its margin, and the villages, hamlets, green woodlands, rich bottoms, and fruitful intervales of Wyoming, twenty miles in extent, and the purple mountains on its western borders were all included in the range of our vision. The thought, impious though it may be, came into my mind, that if Satan, when he took Immanuel to the top of an "exceeding high mountain," exhibited a scene like this, the temptation was certainly great. Wilkesbarre, * apparently at our feet, was three miles distant, and it was dark when we reached the Phoenix Hotel, upon the bank of the river. It had been a fatiguing day's journey of sixty miles; but a supper of venison, warm biscuit, and honey, and a comfortable bed, made me feel perfectly vigorous in the morning, and prepared for a ramble over the historic portions of the valley.
September 16, 1848 After an early breakfast I rode to the residence of Charles Miner, Esq., about two miles from the village, expecting to rely chiefly upon his varied and extensive knowledge of the history of the valley for information concerning the localities of interest, but was disappointed. * He was suffering from a severe attack of an epidemic fever then prevailing in the valley, and was unable even to converse much, yet I have not forgotten the sincere regrets and kind wishes he expressed. He referred me to several gentlemen in the village, descendants of the first settlers in the valley, and to one of them (Mr. Lord Butler, a grandson of Colonel Zebulon Butler) I am indebted for many kind services while I remained there. He accompanied me to the several localities of interest in the valley, and furnished me with such facilities for acquiring information as only a stranger can appreciate. We visited Kingston, Forty Fort, the monument, the chief battle-ground, Fort Wintermoot, Monocasy Island, &c.; but a record of the day's ramble will be better understood after a consultation of the history, and we will, therefore, proceed to unclasp the old chronicle.
History and song have hallowed the Valley of Wyoming, and every thing appertaining to it seems to be wrapped in an atmosphere of romance. Its Indian history, too, long antecedent to the advent of the whites there, is full of the poetry which clusters around the progress of the aborigines. Mr. Miner gives a graphic picture of the physical aspect of the valley. "It is diversified," he says, "by hill and dale, upland and intervale. Its character of extreme richness is derived from the extensive flats, or river bottoms, which, in some places, extend from one to two miles from the stream, unrivaled in expansive beauty, unsurpassed in luxuriant fertility. Though now generally cleared and cultivated, to protect the soil from floods a fringe of trees is left along each bank of the river--the sycamore, the elm, and more especially the black walnut, while here and there, scattered through the fields, a huge shell-bark yields its summer shade to the weary laborers, and its autumn fruit to the black and gray squirrel, or the rival plow-boys. Pure streams of water come leaping from the mountains, imparting health and pleasure in their course; all of them abounding with the delicious trout. Along those brooks, and in the swales, scattered through the uplands, grow
* This name is compounded of two, and was given in honor of John Wilkes and Colonel Barre, two of the ablest advocates of America, through the press and on the floor of the British House of Commons, during the Revolution.
** Mr. Miner is the author of a "History of Wyoming," a valuable work of nearly six hundred pages, and possessing the rare merit of originality, for a large proportion of its contents is a record of information obtained by him from the lips of old residents whose lives and memories ran parallel with the Revolutionary history of the valley, and events immediately antecedent thereto. He folded up little books of blank paper, took pens and ink, and, accompanied by his daughter Sarah, who, though blind, was a cheerful and agreeable companion, and possessed a very retentive memory, visited thirty or forty of the old people who were in the valley at the time of the invasion in 1778. "We have come," he said to them, "to inquire about old Wyoming; pray tell us all you know. We wish an exact picture, such as the valley presented sixty years ago. Give us its lights and shadows, its joys and sorrows." At night, on returning home, he read over to his daughter what he had taken down, and carefully corrected, by the aid of her memory, "any error into which the pen had fallen." In this way Mr. Miner collected a great amount of local history, which must otherwise have perished with the source whence he derived it. I shall draw liberally upon his interesting volume for many of my historic facts concerning Wyoming.
Ancient Beauty and Fertility of Wyoming.--Campbell's "Gertrude of Wyoming."--Its Errors.--First Tribes in the Valley
341the wild plum and the butter-nut, while, wherever the hand of the white man has spared it, the native grape may be gathered in unlimited profusion.
I have seen a grapevine bending beneath its purple clusters, one branch climbing a butter-nut, loaded with fruit, another branch resting upon a wild plum, red with its delicious burden; the while, growing in the shade, the hazel-nut was ripening its rounded kernel.
"Such were the common scenes when the white people first came to Wyoming, which seems to have been founded by Nature, a perfect Indian Paradise. Game of every sort was abundant. The quail whistled in the meadow; the pheasant rustled in its leafy covert; the wild duck reared her brood and bent the reed in every inlet; the red deer fed upon the hills; while in the deep forests, within a few hours' walk, was found the stately elk. The river yielded at all seasons a supply of fish; the yellow perch, the pike, the catfish, the bass, the roach, and, in the spring season, myriads of shad." *
"Delightful Wyoming! beneath thy skies
The happy shepherd swains had naught to do
But feed their flocks on green declivities,
Or skim perchance, thy lake with light canoe,
From morn till evening's sweeter pastime grew.
With timbrel, when beneath the forest's brow
Thy lovely maidens would the dance renew;
And aye those sunny mountains half way down
Would echo flageolet from some romantic town.
"Then, when of Indian hills the daylight takes
His leave, how might you the flamingo see,
Disporting like a meteor on the lakes--
And playful squirrel on his nut-grown tree:
And every sound of life was full of glee,
From merry mock-bird's song, or hum of men;
While hearkening, fearing naught their revelry,
The wild deer arched his neck from glades, and then,
Unhunted, sought his woods and wilderness again." *
Wyoming, in the Delaware language, signifies "large plains." By what particular Indian nation or tribe it was first settled is not certainly known, but it is probable that the Delawares held dominion there long before the powerful confederacy of the Five Nations, by whom they were subjugated, was formed. The tribes known as the Wyoming Indians, unto whom Zinzendorf and his Moravian brethren preached the Gospel, and who occupied the plains when the white settlers from Connecticut first went there, were of the Seneca and
* Miner's History of Wyoming, preliminary chapter, p. xiv.
** Gertrude of Wyoming. This beautiful poem is full of errors of every kind. The "lakes," the "lia mingo," and the "mock bird" are all strangers to Wyoming; and the historical allusions in the poem are quite as much strangers to truth. But it is a charming poem, and hypercriticism may conscientiously pass by and leave its beauties untouched.
Count Zinzendorf.--His Visit to Wyoming.--Jealousy of the Indians.-- Attempt to murder him.--Providential Circumstance
342Oneida nations, connected "by intermarriage with the Mingoes, and the subjugated Leni-Lenapes, or Delawares. As it is not my province to unravel Indian history, we will pass to a brief consideration of the white settlements there.
The first European whose feet trod the Valley of Wyoming was Count Zinzendorf, who, while visiting his Moravian brethren at Bethlehem and Nazareth, in 1742, extended his visits among the neighboring Indians. His warm heart had been touched by the accounts he had received of the moral degradation of the savages, and, unattended, except by an interpreter, he traversed the wilderness and preached salvation to the red men. In one of these excursions he crossed the Pocono, and penetrated to the Valley of Wyoming. With a missionary named
Mack, and his wife, who accompanied him, he pitched his tent upon the western bank of the Susquehanna, a little below the present village of Kingston, at the foot of a high hill, and near a place in the river known as Toby's Eddy. A tribe of the Shawnees had a village upon the site of Kingston. They held a council to listen to the communications of the missionaries, but, suspicious of all white men, they could not believe that Zinzendorf and his companions had crossed the Atlantic for the sole purpose of promoting the spiritual welfare of the Indians. They concluded that the strangers had come to "spy out their country" with a view to dispossess them of their lands; and, with such impressions, they resolved to murder the count. The savages feared the English, and instructed those who were appointed to assassinate Zinzendorf to do it with all possible secrecy. A cool-September night was chosen for the deed, and two stout Indians proceeded stealthily from the town to the tent of the missionary. He was alone, reclining upon a bundle of dry weeds, engaged in writing, or in devout meditation. A blanket curtain formed the door of his tent, and, as the Indians cautiously drew this aside, they had a full view of their victim. The benignity of his countenance filled them with awe, but an incident (strikingly providential) more than his appearance changed the current of their feelings. The tent-cloth was suspended from the branch of a huge sycamore, in such a manner that the partially hollow trunk of the tree was within its folds. At its foot the count had built a fire, the warmth of which had aroused a rattlesnake in its den; and at the moment when the savages looked into the tent the venomous reptile was gliding harmlessly across the legs of their intended victim, who did not see either the serpent or the lurking murderers. They at once regarded him as under the special protection of the Great Spirit, were
* Nicolas Lewis, Count Zinzendorf, was descended from an ancient Austrian family, and was the son of a chamberlain of the King of Poland. He was born in May, 1700, and was educated at Halle and Utrecht. When about twenty-one years of age, he purchased the lordship of Berthholdsdorp, in Lusatia. Some poor Christians, followers of John Huss, soon afterward settled upon his estate. Their piety attracted his attention, and he joined them. From that time until his death he labored zealously for the good of mankind. The village of Hernhutt was built upon his estate, and soon the sect spread throughout Bohemia and Moravia. He traveled through Germany, Denmark, and England, and in 1741 came to America, and preached at Germantown and Bethlehem. He returned to Europe in 1743, and died at Hernhutt in 1760. The Moravian missionaries were very successful in their operations. They established stations in various parts of Europe, in Greenland, in the West Indies, and in Georgia and Pennsylvania. Piety, zeal, benevolence, and self- denial always marked the Moravians, and at the present day they bear the character of "the best of people."
Toby's Eddy.--Zinzendorf's Camp ground.--Alienation of the Indians.-- Gnadenhutten.--The Susquehanna Company
343filled with profound reverence for his person, and, returning to the tribe, so impressed their fellows with the holiness of Zinzendorf's character, that their enmity was changed to veneration.
A successful mission was established there, which was continued until a war between the Shawnees and the Delawares destroyed the peace of the valley.1
Not long afterward the war that ensued between the English and French drew the line of separation so distinctly between the Indian tribes that respectively espoused either cause, that the excitements of warlike zeal repressed the religious sentiments which the indefatigable missionaries were diffusing among the savages. The tribes in the interest of the French soon began to hover around the Moravian settlements. Gnadenhutten was destroyed, and the other settlements were menaced. *** For several years these pious missionaries suffered greatly, and the white settlements were broken up. After the defeat of Brad-dock in 1755, the Delawares went over to the French, and the frontiers of Pennsylvania and Virginia were terribly scourged by these new allies of the enemies of the English.
In 1753 an association was formed in Connecticut, called the Susquehanna Company, the object of which was to plant a colony in the Wyoming Valley, a region then claimed by Connecticut by virtue of its ancient unrepealed charter. **** To avoid difficulties with the
* This was originated in the following manner. The Shawnees were a secluded clan, living, by permission of the Delawares, upon the western bank of the Susquehanna. On a certain day, when the warriors of both tribes were engaged in the chase upon the mountains, a party of women and children of the Shawnees crossed to the Delaware side to gather fruit, and were joined by some of the squaws and children of the latter. At length a quarrel arose between two of the children about the possession of a grasshopper. The mothers took part respectively with their children, and the quarrel extended to all the women on both sides. The Delaware squaws were more numerous, and drove the Shawnees home, killing several on the way. The Shawnee hunters, on their return, espousing the cause of their women, armed themselves, and, crossing the river, attacked the Delawares; a bloody battle ensued, and the Shawnees, overpowered, retired to the banks of the Ohio, and joined their more powerful brethren. How many wars between Christian nations have originated in a quarrel about some miserable grasshopper!
** This is a view upon a stream called Mud Creek, a few rods from its mouth, at Toby's Eddy, in the Susquehanna, about a mile below Kingston. It was pointed out to me as the place where, tradition avers, Count Zinzendorf erected his tent, and where the singular circumstance related in the text occurred. It was near sunset on a mild day (September 16th, 1848) when I visited the spot, and a more inviting place for retirement and meditation can scarcely be imagined. It is shaded by venerable sycamore, butternut, elm, and black walnut trees. From the Eddy is a fine view of the plain whereon the Delawares had their village, and of the mountains on the eastern side of the valley. The eddy is caused by a bend in the river.
*** The Moravians had established six missionary settlements in the vicinity of the Forks of the Delaware, or the junction of the Delaware and Lehigh Rivers, viz., Nazareth, Bethlehem, Nain, Freidenshal, Gandenthaul, and Gnadenhutten. The latter, the name of which in English is "Huts of Mercy," was founded chiefly for the accommodation and protection of those Indians who embraced the Christian faith. Hence it was the first settlement attacked by the hostile savages.
**** When the regions in the interior of America were unknown, the charters given to the colonists were generally very vague respecting their western boundary. They defined the extent of each colony along the Atlantic coast, but generally said of the westward extent, "from sea to sea." Such was the expression in the Connecticut charter, and Wyoming, lying directly west of that province, was claimed as a portion of its territory. The intervening portion of New York, being already in actual possession of the Dutch, was not included in the claim.
Purchase of Wyoming.--The Delaware Company.--Opposition of Pennsylvanians.--Death of Teedyuscung
344Indians, the agents of the company were directed to purchase the land of the Six Nations, the actual owners, though it was then in possession of the Delawares. A deputation for the purpose attended the great convention and Indian council which was held at Albany in 1754, and, notwithstanding the strong efforts made by the Governor of Pennsylvania, through his agents, to the contrary, the purchase was effected. The tract bargained for included the whole Valley of Wyoming and the country westward to the Allegany River. The Pennsylvanians were irritated at what they called an unfair and illegal encroachment of the Connecticut people, and in strong terms protested against the purchase, for they claimed that the whole country included therein was covered by the charter granted to William Penn. Here, then, was planted the seed which soon burst forth into a mature tree, and bore the apples of discord in abundance.
Another Connecticut association, called the Delaware Company, had purchased lands upon the Delaware River, at a place called Cushetunk. They commenced a settlement there in 1757, and the Susquehanna Company prepared to plant their colony in Wyoming the following year. But, owing to the unsettled state of the country, the French and Indian war then being in progress, the settlement was deferred until 1762, when about two hundred colonists pushed forward, and commenced building and planting near the mouth of Mill Creek, a little above the present site of Wilkesbarre. The Indians, and among them their great chief Teedyuscung, were at first opposed to this settlement of the whites in the valley, but were soon reconciled, and lived in daily friendly intercourse with the new comers. The Pennsylvanians, however, determined to repel what they held to be a bold encroachment upon their rights. Proclamations were issued, and writs of ejectment were placed in the hands of the sheriff of Northampton county, within the limits of which Wyoming was situated; but the Yankees continued to build and plant. They brought their families into the valley, and new settlers were rapidly augmenting their numbers. An event now occurred which at one terrible blow cut off this flourishing settlement.
I briefly adverted, at the close of the last chapter, to the fact that a great council was held at Easton in 1758, where Teedyuscung, the Delaware chief, acted a conspicuous part. The Six Nations regarded the Delawares as subjects, and were jealous of the popularity and power of Teedyuscung. They could not brook his advancement, and in the autumn of 1763 a party of warriors descended the Susquehanna, and came to the valley upon a pretended visit of friendship. As previously concerted, they set fire to the house of Teedyuscung on a certain night, and the chief was burned in it; while, to crown their wicked act, they adroitly charged the deed upon the whites. The Delawares believed the tale. They loved their chief, and determined on revenge. At broad noon, on the 14th of October, they attacked
1763 and massacred thirty of the settlers in their fields. * The whole settlement was speedily alarmed, and men, women, and children fled to the mountains, from which they saw their houses plundered and their cattle driven away. At night the torch was applied to their buildings, and the lovely abode of several hundred peaceful dwellers in the morning was made a desolation. Over the wilderness of the Pocono they made their way to the Delaware, and so on to their homes in Connecticut, a distance of two hundred and fifty miles. The blow was as unexpected as it was merciless, for they regarded the Delawares as their friendly neighbors. **
The Susquehanna Company did not attempt a settlement again for several years; and in the mean time the proprietaries of Pennsylvania, taking advantage of an Indian council held at Fort Stanwix in 1768, made a direct purchase of the Wyoming Valley from the Six Nations, and took a deed from some of the chiefs A lease of the valley for seven years was given to three Pennsylvanians, *** who established a trading house there, which they for-
* This is the testimony of current history. Mr Miner, on the contrary, is persuaded that the same hands that destroyed Teedyuscung--the Six Nations--perpetrated this outrage.
** Proud, Gordon, Chapman.
*** Charles Stewart, Amos Ogden, and John Jennings. The latter was the sheriff of the county. Charles Stewart subsequently became a popular and efficient officer of the Pennsylvania line in the Continental army.
Hostilities between the "Yankees" and "Pennymitea."--Erection of Forts.- -Capture of Durkee.--Surrender of Ogden.
345tified. Forty pioneers of the Susquehanna Company, prepared to act promptly, entered the valley in February, 1769, and closely invested the Pennsylvania garrison. There were but ten men in the block-house, but they had found means to send a message to Governor Penn, informing him of their situation. They did not wait for succor, however, but, under pretense of consulting about an amicable compromise, three of the Connecticut party were decoyed into the block-house, arrested by Sheriff Jennings, and sent to Easton Jail. The Connecticut immigrants increased rapidly, and Jennings called upon the posse of the county and several magistrates to assist in their arrest. Quite a formidable force marched to Wyoming, but the Connecticut people had not been idle. They too had erected a block-house, which they called Forty Fort. Jennings demolished its doors, and arrested thirty-one of the inmates, most of whom were taken to Easton Jail. They were admitted to bail, were reenforced by about two hundred from Connecticut, and, returning to Wyoming, built a fort, which they called Fort Durkee, in honor of the officer elected to its command. This fortification was about half a mile below Wilkesbarre, near the Shawnee Flats. They also built thirty log houses around it, furnished with loop-holes for musketry, and, the number of the settlers being three hundred able-bodied men, Jennings could make no further impression upon them. He reported to the Governor of Pennsylvania that the whole power of the county was inadequate to dislodge the Yankees.
For a short time hostilities ceased, and the Susquehanna Company sent commissioners to Philadelphia to endeavor to negotiate a compromise. * Governor Penn refused to treat with them, and sent an armed force to the valley, under the command of Colonel Francis. He demanded a surrender of Fort Durkee, but the order was not obeyed. He reconnoitered, and, finding the works too strong to be successfully assaulted, returned to Philadelphia, leaving Ogden, one of the lessees of the valley, with a small force in the neighborhood. A larger force was assembled under Sheriff Jennings, well armed, and provided with a six pound cannon. Captain Ogden, who was prowling about the settlement, hearing of the approach of Jennings, darted suddenly among the houses with forty men, and captured several inhabitants, among whom was Colonel Durkee. He was taken to Philadelphia, and closely imprisoned. Jennings, with two hundred armed men, appeared before the fort, and began the erection of a battery. The garrison, alarmed, proposed to surrender upon certain conditions, which were agreed to. The articles of capitulation were drawn up in due form and signed, but Ogden acted in bad faith, and the seventeen settlers who were allowed by the capitula tion to remain in the valley and harvest their crops, were plundered of every thing and driven over the mountains.
In February, 1770, Lazarus Stewart led an armed party from Lancaster into the Valley of Wyoming, who were joined by another armed party from Connecticut. They captured Fort Durkee, and, proceeding to the house of Ogden (who was then absent), seized the cannon already mentioned. Captain Ogden, on hearing of these transactions, hastened to Wyoming with fifty men, and garrisoned his own house. A party of fifty Yankees was sent against him, and a skirmish ensued. Several Connecticut people were wounded, and one was killed. Colonel Durkee ** had now been released, and had returned from Philadelphia. Under his command the Yankees commenced a regular siege upon the fortress of the Penny-mites. *** They mounted the four pound cannon upon the opposite side of the river, and for several days played upon Ogden's house. Receiving no succor from Governor Penn, he surrendered upon terms similar to those allowed the Yankees the year before. He was to with-
* Colonel Dyer, and Jedediah Elderkin, of Windham, Connecticut.
** John Durkee was a native of that portion of Norwich, Connecticut, called Bean Hill, and was generally called the "bold Bean Hiller." He left Wyoming and returned to Connecticut. When the Revolution broke out, he entered into the contest zealously. He was at Bunker Hill, and was commissioned a colonel in the Connecticut line. He was in the battle on Long Island, at Germantown, and other engagements. He died at his residence at Bean Hill in 1782, aged fifty-four years, and was buried with military honors.
*** This civil commotion is usually termed the Pennymite and Yankee war. The former name was derived from John Penn, governor of Pennsylvania when hostilities commenced.
Treatment of Ogden.--Another Attack on the Yankees.--Capture of Fort Durkoe.--Pennymites Expelled.--New Fortifications.
346draw himself and all his men from the valley, except six, who were to remain and guard his property. But the Yankees, imitating Ogden's bad faith with them, seized his property and burned his house as soon as he was gone. Warrants were afterward issued by the Governor of Pennsylvania against Lazarus Stewart, Zebulon Butler, and Lazarus Young, for the crime of arson, but they were never harmed.
Governor Penn, fearing political outbreaks in his capital at that time, and unwilling to send any of the few troops away from Philadelphia, called upon General Gage, then in command at New York, for a detachment of his majesty's troops to restore order at Wyoming. Gage refused compliance, and the Pennsylvanians were obliged to rely upon their own resources. It was autumn before another attempt was made against the Yankees. Ogden, with only one hundred and forty men, marched by the Lehigh route, to take the settlers by surprise. From the tops of the mountains he saw the people at work in groups in their fields, and, separating his force into parties equal in numbers to the unsuspecting farmers below, they rushed down upon them, made several prisoners, and sent them to Easton. Ogden lay concealed in the mountains, awaiting another opportunity to assail the Yankees. The latter sent messengers to solicit aid from their friends on the Delaware. These fell into Ogden's hands, and, learning from them the exact position of Fort Durkee, he made a night attack upon it. It was filled with women and children, and the garrison, too weak to defend it, surrendered unconditionally. The fort and the houses of the settlement were plundered, and many of the principal inhabitants were sent prisoners to Easton and Philadelphia.
A small garrison was left by Ogden in Fort Durkee. The Yankees having left the valley, they were not very vigilant. On the night of the 18th of December, between twenty and thirty men, under Lazarus Stewart, reached the fort by stealth, and captured it, shouting, "Huzza for King George!" The Pennymites were now, in turn, driven from the valley. Stewart held possession of the fort until the middle of January following, when the sheriff of Northampton county, with a considerable force, arrived before it. Captain Ogden and his brother Nathan accompanied the expedition. A skirmish ensued at the fort, and Nathan Ogden was killed. * Stewart perceived that he could not long hold out, January 1771 on the night of the 20th withdrew from the valley, leaving twelve men in the fort. These were made prisoners and sent to Easton, and quiet again prevailed at Wyoming.
For six months the Pennymites were undisturbed in the possession of the valley, and the number of the settlers of Ogden's party had increased to about eighty. But their repose was suddenly broken by the descent from the mountains, on the 6 th of July, of seventy armed men from Connecticut, under Captain Zebulon Butler, and a party under Lazarus Stewart, who had joined him. Ogden had built another and a stronger fort, whieh he called Fort Wyoming. ** The invaders were almost daily re-enforced, and commenced several military works with a view of besieging Ogden and his party in the forts. The besieged were well supplied with provisions, and, their works being strong, they defied the assailants. Ogden, in the mean while, escaped from the fort by stratagem, *** proceeded to Philadelphia, and succeeded in inducing the acting governor (Hamilton) to send a detachment of one hundred men to Wyoming. The expedition was unsuccessful. After prosecuting the siege until the 11th of August, Captain Butler sent to the garrison a formal summons to surrender. The gar-
* A settler named William Speddy was recognized as the man who discharged the musket that killed Ogden, and in November he was tried for murder, at the Supreme Court held in Philadelphia. He was acquitted.
** This fort stood upon the ground now occupied by the court-house in Wilkesbarre. There was another fort on the bank of the river, a little below the Phoenix Hotel. Traces of the ditches were visible when I visited the spot in 1848.
*** Ogden prepared a light bundle that would float upon the water, on which he fastened a hat. To this bundle he attached a cord several yards in length, and, entering the river, swam past the sentinels, drawing the bundle at the distance of the length of the cord behind him. The hat was fired at several times, but Ogden escaped unhurt.
Close of the Civil War.--Organization of a Government--Effort to adjust Difficulties.--"Lawyers and Bull-frogs."
347rison refused compliance. Butler had no ordnance, and a colonist named Carey * made a cannon of a pepperidge log. At the second discharge the cannon burst, but they had no further need of artillery, for the garrison surrendered. On the 14th a detachment of sixty men from Philadelphia, to re-enforce the garrison, had arrived within two miles of the fort; but, hearing of the surrender, they retraced their steps. Several persons were killed during the siege. By the terms of the capitulation, Ogden and his party were all to leave the valley. Thus closed the civil war in Wyoming for the year 1771, and the Yankees were left in possession of their much-coveted domain.
The settlement now increased rapidly, and the Susquehanna Company applied to the General Assembly of Connecticut to take them under its protection until the decision asked of the king should be made. The Assembly advised them to organize a government by themselves. Pursuant to this advice, the inhabitants of Wyoming established a thoroughly Democratic government. "They laid out townships," says Chapman, "founded settlements, erected fortifications, levied and collected taxes, passed laws for the direction of civil suits, and for the punishment of crimes and misdemeanors, established a militia, and provided for the common defense and general welfare of the colony." The supreme legislative power was vested directly in the people, and exercised by themselves in their primary meetings. A magistracy was appointed; courts were instituted, having civil and criminal jurisdiction; and a high court of appeals, called the Supreme Court, was established, composed, like their Legislature, of the people themselves in primary assembly. The government was well administered, the colony rapidly increased, the people were happy, and for two years the smiles of peace and prosperity gladdened the Valley of Wyoming.
During this season of repose the Assembly of Connecticut made an effort to adjust all difficulties between the settlers and the government of Pennsylvania. Richard Penn was then governor of that province, and would enter into no negotiations on the subject. The Connecticut Assembly, therefore, made out a case and sent it to England for adjudication. ** It was submitted to the ablest lawyers of the realm--Lord Thurlow, Wedderburne, Richard Jackson, and John Dunning--and their decision was in favor of the Susquehanna Company.
* Mr. Carey was a native of Dutchess county, New York, and went to Wyoming with his sons in 1769. His brother, Samuel Carey, was a distinguished Quaker preacher. His sons became permanent settlers in Wyoming, and lived to a good old age.
** Colonel Eliphalet Dyer was sent to England as agent for the Connecticut Assembly. He was one of the most eminent lawyers of that province. His eloquence was of the most persuasive kind. In allusion to this intellectual power, a wit wrote the following impromptu, while Dyer was advocating the cause of the Susquehanna Company on the floor of the Assembly chamber:
"Canaan of old, as we are told.
When it did rain down manna,
Wa'nt half so good, for heavenly food,
As Dyer makes Susquehanna."
** This is the same Dyer alluded to in the amusing doggerel entitled "Lawyers and Bull-frogs," in which the people of Old Windham, in Connecticut, were interested. The poem is printed in the Historical Collections of Connecticut, page 448. The introduction avers that, after a long drought, a frog-pond became almost dry, and a terrible battle was fought one night by the frogs, to decide who should keep possession of the remaining water. Many "thousands were found defunct in the morning." There was an uncommon silence for hours before the battle commenced, when, as if by a preconcerted agreement, every frog on one side of the ditch raised the war-cry, Colonel Dyer! Colonel Dyer! and at the same instant, from the opposite side, resounded the adverse shout of Elderkin too! Elderkin too! Owing to some peculiarity in the state of the atmosphere, the sounds seemed to be overhead, and the people of Windham were greatly frightened. The poet says,
"This terrible night the parson did fright
His people almost in despair;
For poor Windham souls among the bean-poles
He made a most wonderful prayer.
Lawyer Lucifer called up his crew;
Dyer and Elderkin," you must come too:
Old Colonel Dyer you know well enough.
He had an old negro, his name was Cuff."
* Jedediah Elderkin accompanied Colonel Dyer to Philadelphia in 1769, in behalf of the Susquehanna Company
Peace and Prosperity of Wyoming.--Renewal of Hostilities.--Action of Congress.--Expedition of Plunkett
348The settlement was now taken under the protection of Connecticut, and incorporated into that colony. The territory was erected into a chartered town called Westmoreland, and attached to Litchfield county; representatives from it were admitted to seats in the General Assembly, and Zebulon Butler and Nathan Denison were commissioned justices of the peace. Repose continued to reign in the valley, and unexampled prosperity blessed the settlement. A town immediately adjoining Wyoming Fort was planted by Colonel Durkee, and named Wilkesbarre; and the whole valley became a charming picture of active life and social happiness. The foot-prints of civil war were effaced, and the recollections of the gloomy past were obliterated. A dream of happiness lulled the people into the repose of absolute security. Isolated in the bosom of the mountains, and far removed from the agitations which disturbed the people upon the ocean coasts, they had heard little of the martial sound of preparations for the hostilities then elaborating in the imperial and colonial councils. They were enjoying, in full measure, the blessings of virtuous democracy, and felt none of the oppressions of Great Britain, then bearing with such heavy hand upon the commercial cities of America; yet they warmly sympathized with their suffering brethren, and their hearts and hands were open to the appeals of the patriots of the east.
Four years Wyoming enjoyed uninterrupted peace, when its repose was suddenly broken by an attack upon a branch of the colony, located about sixty miles below Wilkesbarre, by a body of Northumberland militia, who were jealous of the increasing prosperity of the Yankees. On the 28th of September, 1775, the unsuspecting inhabitants were suddenly assailed, several of them were killed, and the residue were sent to Sunbury and imprisoned. About the same time several boats from Wyoming, trading down the river, were plundered by the Pennsylvanians. The Continental Congress was then in session in Philadelphia, and the Connecticut people of Wyoming, preferring peaceful measures to a renewal of the civil war, petitioned that body for redress. Congress, "considering that the most perfect union between the colonies was essentially necessary for the preservation of the just rights of North America," adopted resolutions urging the governments of Pennsylvania and Connecticut to "take the most speedy and effectual steps to prevent hostilities" and to adjust difficulties. * But the lawless invaders had not yet learned to respect the voice of Congress. Its resolutions were unheeded, and the imprisoned settlers were more rigidly confined, under the apprehension that the exasperated people of Wyoming, now become numerous, might make a retaliatory movement against Sunbury. A proposition was made to raise a force, and march against Wyoming to subjugate it before the people could organize a military government. Governor Penn favored the design, and Colonel Plunkett, who was also a magistrate, was placed in command of the expedition. He was ostensibly vested with civil powers, and his December 20, 1775 force was called the posse of the county. Congress, still in session in Philadelphia, passed a resolution urging the immediate termination of all hostilities be-tween the parties. ** But the Pennsylvanians paid no attention to the resolution, and Plunkett advanced toward Wyoming. His progress was slow, for the river was much obstructed by ice; and before he came to the Nanticoke Rapids, at the south end of the valley, where he was obliged to leave his boats, the people had made ample preparations to receive him. The military were under the command of Colonel Zebulon Butler, and numbered about three hundred effective men.
From the summit of a bold rock on the western side of the river, that overhung the road along which Plunkett was marching, a volley of musketry was discharged as he approached, and arrested his progress. By means of a bateau, which he caused to be brought above the rapids by land, his men attempted to cross the river, to march against Fort Wyoming on the eastern side. They were assaulted by an ambuscade on shore, and the whole invading force immediately retreated to their provision boats, moored below the rapids, where a council of war was held. This council wisely concluded that the chances of success were few, and the expedition was abandoned.
* Journals of Congress, vol. i., p. 215.
** Ibid., p. 279.
The Colonies before the Revolution.--Exposed Position of Wyoming.-- Indian Outrage.--Indian Speech.
349The war of the Revolution had now fairly commenced. The proprietary government of Pennsylvania was soon afterward virtually abolished, a constituent assembly was organized (a) and the people and the governments of both colonies had matters of much greater importance to attend to than disputes about inconsiderable settlements. Henceforth the history of Wyoming is identified with the general history of the Union. I have glanced briefly at the most important events connected with its early settlement, for they form an interesting episode in the general history of our republic, and exhibit prominently those social and political features which characterized the colonies when the war of independence broke out. Separate provinces, communities, and families, having distinct interests, and under no very powerful control from without, had learned independence of thought and action, self-reliance, patient endurance under the pressure of circumstances, and indomitable courage in the maintenance of personal and political rights, from the circumstances in which their relations to each other had placed them. It was in schools like that of the Pennymite war, the resistance of the New Hampshire Grants to the domination of New York, the opposition to the Stamp Act and kindred measures, and the Regulator movement in the Carolinas, that the people were tutored for the firm resistance which they made to British oppressions during the seven years of our struggle for political emancipation; and there is more of the true philosophy of our great Revolution to be learned by studying antecedent, but relative events, than in watching the progress of the war itself. We will now turn to a consideration of the events which occurred in Wyoming during our Revolution.
The defection of a large portion of the Six Nations, the coalition of the Delawares and Shawnees with the friends of the king westward of the Alleganies, and the menaces of the tribes bordering on Virginia, with whom Lord Dunmore, the royal governor of that province, had long tampered, seeking to bring their hatchets upon the frontier settlements of that rebellious state, gave the Continental Congress much uneasiness at the beginning of 1776. Thousands of mercenary Germans were preparing to come like "destroying locusts upon the east wind the British Parliament had voted fifty-five thousand men for the American service; loyalty to the crown was rife throughout the land; and the dark cloud of savages upon the western border of the colonies, smarting under the wrongs inflicted by the white men for a century and a half, and without any definite ideas of the nature of the quarrel in question, or means of discriminating between the parties to the feud, were ready to raise the war-cry, and satiate their appetites for vengeance, rapine, and blood. Westmoreland, or Wyoming, was peculiarly exposed, lying upon the verge of the Indian country, and to the people of its lovely valley the conciliation of the Indians was a matter of vast importance. The council of Onondaga, the chief head of the Six Nations, made professions of peaceful intentions, but there was evident hypocrisy underlying the fair appearance of the surface, and occasional outrages upon the remote settlers had been committed without rebuke. On one occasion a man named Wilson, living within the limits of Westmoreland, had been cruelly treated by the Indians, and Colonel Zebulon Butler sent a messenger to ascertain the true intentions of the savages. A chief called John returned with the messenger, and, in a speech replete with Indian eloquence, disclaimed, in behalf of the Six Nations, all thoughts of hostility to the friends of Congress. The Rev. Mr. Johnson, the first pastor in Wyoming, acted as interpreter. "We are sorry," said the chief, "to have two brothers fighting with each other, and should be glad to hear that the quarrel was peaceably settled. We choose not to interest ourselves on either side. The quarrel appears to be unnecessary. We do not well understand it. We are for peace." He continued:
"Brothers, when our young men come to hunt in your neighborhood, you must not imagine they come to do mischief; they come to procure themselves provisions, also skins to purchase them clothing.
"Brothers, we desire that Wyoming may be a place appointed where the great men may meet, and have a fire, which shall ever after be called Wyomick, where you shall judge best how to prevent any jealousies or uneasy thoughts that may arise, and thereby preserve our friendship.
Colonel Butler deceived.--Strangers in Wyoming.--Suspicions of the People.
350"Brothers, you see but one of our chiefs. You may be suspicious on that account; but we assure you this chief speaks in the name of the Six Nations. We are of one mind.
"Brothers, what we say is not from the lips, but from the heart. If any Indians of little note should speak otherwise, you must pay no regard to them, but observe what has been said and written by the chiefs, which may be depended on.
"Brothers, we live at the head of these waters [Susquehanna]. Pay no regard to any reports that may come up the stream or any other way, but look to the head waters for truth; and we do now assure you, as long as the waters run, so long you may depend on our friendship. We are all of one mind, and we are all for peace."
This was the strong language of assurance, and Colonel Butler, confident of its sincerity, wrote accordingly to Roger Sherman of the Connecticut Assembly. He mentioned in his letter that the Indians wanted an American flag as a token of friendship; and the whole tone of his communication evinced a belief in the professed attachment of the savages to the republicans. But at that very time the Mohawks, Onondagas, and Senecas were leaguing against the patriots; and already Brant and five hundred warriors had struck a severe blow of hostility to the republicans at the Cedars, on the St. Lawrence. The proposed council fire at Wyoming was doubtless intended as a pretense for assembling a large body of warriors in the heart of the settlement, to destroy it; and the desire for an American flag was undoubtedly a wish to have it for a decoy when occasion should call for its use. Events soon occurred which confirmed these suspicions, and the people of Wyoming prepared for defense against their two-fold enemy, the Indians and the Tories. *
When the war broke out, the Connecticut Assembly prevented further immigration to Westmoreland. But people came there, from the Hudson and the Mohawk Valleys, having no sympathy with either of the parties in the "Pennymite war," and, as it appeared, no sympathy with the republicans. Almost every original settler had espoused the cause of the Whigs; and the open expression of hostility to Congress by these interlopers, the most active of whom were the Wintermoots, Van Gorders, Van Alstyns, and a few other families, excited the indignation of the Wyoming people. ** The recommendation of the Continental Congress, to organize committees of vigilance in every town, had been promptly acted upon in Wyoming, and these new comers, the avowed friends of the king, were soon subjected to the severest scrutiny of the committee there. The people of Wyoming, numbering nearly three thousand, and united in thought and action, were pursuing peacefully their various occupations. The sudden influx of strangers to them, not only in person but in political creed, justly excited suspicions that they were a colony of vipers, come to nestle among them for the purpose of disseminating the poison of Toryism. Influenced by these fears, several of the most suspicious of the interlopers were arrested and sent to Connecticut. This was an unwise act, although perhaps justifiable, and was one cause of subsequent disasters.
In the mean while two companies of regular troops, of eighty-two men each, had been raised in the valley, under a resolution of Congress, commanded by Captains Ransom and
* On the 10th of March, 1777, the following resolutions were adopted at a town meeting held at Wilkes-barre: "Voted, That the first man that shall make fifty weight of good saltpetre in this town shall be entitled to a bounty of ten pounds lawful money, to be paid out of the town treasury." "Voted, That the select-men be directed to dispose of the grain now in the hands of the treasurer or collector in such a way as to obtain powder and lead to the value of forty pounds lawful money, if they can do the same." It was also subsequently voted to empower a committee of inspectors "to supply the soldiers' wives and the soldiers' widows with the necessaries of life." This was a noble resolution.
** Mr. Miner, in a letter to the late William L. Stone, mentions the fact that among the papers of Colonel Zebulon Butler he found a list of Tories who joined the Indians. The list contained sixty-one names, of which only three were those of New England men. Most of them were transient persons, who had gone to Wyoming as hunters and trappers. Six of them were of one family (the Wintermoots), from Minisink. Nine were from the Mohawk Valley, doubtless in the interest of the Johnsons, four from Kinderhook, and six from West Chester, New York. There were not ten Tory families who had resided two years in Wyoming.--See Stone's History of Wyoming, p. 181.
The Wintcrmoots.--Erection of a Fort--Counteraction of the old Settlers.--Affair on the Millstone River.
351Durkee, and were attached to the Connecticut line. * The Wintcrmoots, who had purchased land toward the head of the valley, and upon the old banks of the Susquehanna, ** at a place where bubbled forth a large and living spring of pure water, erected a strong fortification known as Wintermoot's Fort. The town meeting alluded to, suspicious of the design of the Wintermoots, who had hitherto acted so discreetly that a charge of actual hostility to Congress could not properly be made against them, thought it best to counteract their apparent belligerence, and resolved that it had "become necessary for the inhabitants of the town to erect suitable forts as a defense against the common enemy."
August 24, 1776 A fort was accordingly built, about two miles above Wintermoot's, under the supervision of the families of Jenkins and Harding, and called Fort Jenkins.' Forty Fort (so called from the first forty Yankees, the pioneers of the Susquehanna settlers in Wyoming), then little more than a weak block-house, was strengthened and enlarged, and sites for other forts were fixed on, at Pittstown, Wilkesbarre, and Hanover. It was agreed in town meeting that these several fortifications should be built by the people, "without either fee or reward from the town."
As we have observed in a former chapter, the tribes of the Six Nations which had receded from their solemn agreement of neutrality were not brought actively into the service of the king until the summer of 1777. It was then that the people of Wyoming perceived, and fully appreciated, the perils attendant upon their isolation, and the attention of the Continental Congress was often called to their exposed situation. While St. Leger was investing Fort Stanwix, some straggling parties of savages hung about and menaced Wyoming; but, after the siege was raised, the people were not disturbed again during the remainder of the year and the following spring. But early in the summer of 1778 the movements of Brant and his warriors, and the Johnsons and Butlers and their Tory legions, upon the upper waters of the Susquehanna, together with the actions of the Tories in the Valley of Wyoming, who were greatly exasperated on account of the harsh treatment of some of their number by the
* These two companies served with distinction at the skirmish on Millstone River, in New Jersey, on the 20th of January, 1777. This occurred while the main army of the Americans were suffering from the smallpox at Morristown. A line of forts had been established along the Millstone River, in the direction of Princeton. One of these, at Somerset Court-house, was occupied by General Dickinson with these two regular companies and about three hundred militia. A mill on the opposite bank of the stream contained considerable flour. Cornwallis, then lying at New Brunswick, dispatched a foraging party to capture it. The party consisted of about four hundred men, with more than forty wagons. The British arrived at the mill early in the morning, and, having loaded their wagons with flour, were about to return, when General Dickinson, leading a portion of his force through the river, middle deep, attacked them with so much spirit, that they fled in haste, leaving the whole of their plunder, with their wagons, behind them.
** Along the western side of the Susquehanna, a largo part of the way from the head of the valley to the village of Kingston, opposite Wilkesbarre, are traces of a more ancient shore than the present, when the river was broader and perhaps deeper than now. The plain extending from the ancient shore to the foot of the mountain is a uniform level, several feet above the alluvial bottom between it and the present bank of the river.
*** There was another fort, called Fort Jenkins, upon the Susquehanna, about half way between Wilkesbarre and Fort Augusta, or Sunbury. The fort in question was about eight miles above Wilkesbarre.
**** This view is from the ancient bed of the Susquehanna, looking west. The building, formerly the property of Colonel Jenkins, and now owned by Mr. David Goodwin, is upon the site of old Fort Wintermoot, which was destroyed at the time of the invasion in 1778. It is upon the ancient bank of the river, here from fifteen to twenty feet high, and about sixty rods from the stream in its present channel.
Alarm in Wyoming.--Condition of the Settlement.--Apathy of Congress.-- Patriotism of Wyoming Women.
352Whigs, greatly alarmed the people. Several of the Loyalists had left and joined the forces under Colonel John Butler, and the people very properly apprehended their return with power sufficient to satisfy their manifest spirit of vengeance. Early in May the savages had committed many robberies, and in June some murders, in the neighborhood of Tioga, and other points on the upper borders of Westmoreland. The Indians were in considerable force at Conewawah (now Elmira, in Chemung county, New York), and were in constant communication with the Tory settlers, by runners, at Wyalusing and in the neighborhood of Tunkhannoek, within the precincts of Westmoreland. These circumstances were alarming; yet the exposed territory, cut off as it was from immediate aid, if demanded, was weakened by drafts upon its able-bodied men for the Continental army, and demands upon its local treasury for the use of the Connecticut Assembly. Mr. Miner has given, in a spirited historic "pen-and-ink sketch," a picture of the condition of Wyoming at the close of 1777, and at the opening of the active operations the following year. He says, "Nearly all their able-bodied men were away in the service. The remaining population, in dread of the savages, were building six forts or stockades, requiring great labor, 'without fee or reward.' All the aged men out of the train bands, exempt by law from duty, were formed into companies to garrison the forts, one of the captains being also chief physician to the people and surgeon to the military. Of the militia the whole were in constant requisition, to go on the scout and guard against surprise. The small-pox pestilence was in every district. A tax to go to Hartford was levied in the assessment of the year, of two thousand pounds," * not in Continental bills of credit at their nominal value, but "lawful money of the state of Connecticut."
Such was the condition of Wyoming when, in June, 1778, an expedition of Tories and Indians was prepared to fall upon the defenseless inhabitants. Congress was apprised of the dark design. The officers and men in the army, from Wyoming, pleaded for their wives and little ones. General Schuyler wrote a touching letter to Congress on the subject; yet that body, always tardy in its movements, and at that time too much employed in sectional disputes and factious intrigues, left the settlement uncared for, and apparently unnoticed, except by the resolutions to permit the people to take measures for self-defense by raising troops among themselves, and finding "their own arms, and accouterments, and blankets." ** The heads of the families there exposed were cruelly detained in the ranks of the Continental army elsewhere, and thus, naked and helpless, the settlement presented an easy prey to the vultures that scented them from Niagara, and whose companions were then glutting their appetites in the Mohawk and Schoharie settlements.
A force, consisting of the Tory Rangers of Colonel John Butler, a detachment of Johnson's Royal Greens, and from five to seven hundred Indians, under the general command of Butler, and numbering in all about eleven hundred men, crossed the Genesee country from Niagara, and appeared at Tioga Point, in June, whence they embarked in canoes, and landed
* History of Wyoming, page 207. Mr. Miner mentions an instance of the patriotism of the women of Wyoming, and the draft which the people made, under the pressure of circumstances, upon their undeveloped resources. Gunpowder was very scarce at the time when the settlement was menaced by the enemy. The husbands, fathers, and brothers were away in the Continental ranks, and the females plowed, sowed, and reaped. Nor was this all: they manufactured gunpowder for the feeble garrisons in the forts. "They took up the floors of their houses, dug out the earth, put it in casks, and ran water through it, as ashes are leached. They then took ashes in another cask, and made ley, mixed the water from the earth with weak ley, boiled it, and set it to cool, and the saltpetre rose to the top. Charcoal and sulphur were then used, the mixture was pounded in an implement brought to the valley by Mr. Hollenbaek, and thus powder was produced for the public defense."--Page 212.
** See resolution of March 16th, 1778, in the Journals of Congress, vol. iv., p. 113. This resolution authorized the raising of "one full company of foot in the town of Westmoreland." Nothing further was done by Congress in behalf of the people there until the 23d of June following, when a resolution was passed to write to the two independent companies under Durkee and Ransom, then greatly reduced by battle and sickness, and permit them to return home for the defense of the settlement. Congress also resolved to pay the officers and soldiers of the companies authorized to be raised by the resolution of the 16th of March preceding, for their arms and accouterments. The sum of $1440 was granted to the Board of War, to be issued to Colonel Denison. The Continental paper dollars were then rapidly depreciating, four of them being at that time worth only one in specie.
Approach of Indians and Tories.--Preparations for Defense.--Council of War.--Position of the Wyoming Forts
353near the mouth of Bowman's Creek, on the west side of the river, about twenty miles above Wyoming. They entered the valley through a notch from the west, not far from the famous Dial Rock, * and attacked the people near Fort Jenkins, three of whom were killed. ** Butler then made his head-quarters at Wintermoot's Fort, whence he sent out scouts and July 2, 1778 foraging parties.
Virtually abandoned by Congress, the people had made all the preparations in their power to meet the invaders, of whose approach they had been informed. A company of forty of fifty regulars (so called only because the raising of the company was authorized by Congress), and a few militia, under the general command of Captain Hewett, then recruiting in the valley, composed the military force to oppose the enemy. Grandfathers and their aged sons, boys, and even women, seized such weapons as were at hand. Colonel Zebulon Butler, then an officer in the Continental army, happening to be at home when the enemy entered the valley, was, by common consent, made commander-in-chief.
Forty Fort was made the place of general military rendezvous, and thither the women and children of the valley fled for safety. Aged men garrisoned some of the smaller forts. There were fearful odds, and no alternative was left but to fight or submit to the tender mercies of the Indians and the more savage Tories. "Retirement or flight was alike impossible, and there was no security but in victory unequal as was the conflict, therefore, and hopeless as it seemed in the eye of prudence, the young and athletic men fit to bear arms, and enlisted for their special defense, being absent with the main army, the inhabitants, looking to their dependent wives, mothers, sisters, and little ones, took counsel of their courage, and resolved to give the enemy battle." ***
On the morning of the 3d of July a council of war was held in Forty Fort, to determine what action was proper. Some, among whom were Colonels Butler and Denison and Lieutenant-colonel Dorrance, were in favor of a delay, hoping that a re-enforcement from General Washington's camp, then near New Brunswick, in New Jersey might reach them in time, or that Captain Spalding, who was on the march for the valley with his company, might arrive. Others, having little hope of succor, were anxious to meet the enemy at once. While the debates were going on, five commissioned officers from the army arrived at Forty Fort. Hearing of the anticipated in-
* Dial Rock, or Campbell's Rock, as it is sometimes called, is a high bluff at the junction of the Susquehanna and Lackawana Rivers. Its name is derived from the circumstance that the rays of the sun first strike its western face at meridian, and the farmers in the valley have always an unerring indicator of noontide on clear days.
** The victims were all scalped. The bodies were interred by their friends, and over the graves of two of the Harding family, who were killed, a stone was raised, many years afterward, on which is the following inscription: "Sweet is the sleep of those who prefer death to slavery."
*** Wyoming Memorial to the Legislature of Connecticut.
**** Explanation of the Plan.--The several divisions, Hanover, Wilkcsbarre, Kingstown, Sec., mark the districts into which the town of Westmoreland was divided; in military language, the different beats. It marks the site of Fort Durkee; B, Wyoming or Wilkcsbarre Fort; C, Fort Ogden; D, village of Kingston; E, Forty Fort. [This in the early histories of the Revolution is called Kingston Fort.] F, the battleground; G, Wintermoot's Fort; H, Fort Jenkins; 7, Monocasy Island; 7, the three Pittstown stockades. The dot below the G marks the place of Queen Esther's Rock. The village of Troy is upon the battleground, and that of Wilkesbarre, upon the site of Wilkcsbarre Fort and its ravelins. The distances of the several points from the present bridge at 'Wilkcsbarre are as follows: Fort Durke, half a mile below, on the left bank. Fort Ogden, three and a half miles above, and the Pittstown stockades, about eight miles, on the same side. Forty Fort, three and a half miles; the Monument, on the battle-ground, five and a half; Queen Esther's Rock, six and a half; Wintermoot's Fort and Fort Jenkins, eight miles above, on the west or right bank of the river. Kingston is directly opposite Wilkcsbarre, half a mile westward.
Decision of the Wyoming People.--Preparations for Battle.--Forces of the Enemy.--Campbell's Injustice toward Brant
354vasion, they had obtained permission to return home to protect their families. Already Fort Jenkins had been captured, four of the garrison slain, and three made prisoners, and the other stockade would doubtless share the same fate. Already a demand for the surrender of Forty Fort and the valley had been made by Colonel John Butler, and the tomahawks of the Indians were lifted above the heads of those families who had not succeeded in reaching the fort. Upon prompt action appeared to depend their salvation; and, influenced by the pleadings of the only hope of safety left--victory in battle--the majority decided to march at once against the invaders. The decision was rash, and the minority yielded with much reluctance.
About one o'clock in the afternoon the little army, consisting of about three hundred vigorous men, old men, and boys, divided into six companies and marched from the fort, leaving the women in the most painful anxiety. They were joined by the justices of the court and other civil officers, and marched up the river to Wintermoot's Fort, intending to surprise the enemy, but Colonel John Butler was too vigilant to be caught napping. He had news of their approach, and sent for the party then demolishing Fort Jenkins to join him immediately. When the patriots approached, the enemy was prepared to meet them. Colonel John Butler and his Hangers occupied the left, which rested upon the river bank near Wintermoots; and the right, extending into a marsh at the foot of the mountains on the western verge of the plain, was composed principally of Indians and Tories, under a celebrated Seneca chief named Gi-en-gwa-tah, which signifies He who goes in the smoke. * John
* Until the late Mr. Stone made his researches for materials for his interesting biography of Joseph Brant, or Thayendanegea, it was believed that Brant and his Mohawk warriors were engaged in the invasion of Wyoming. Gordon, Ramsay, Thacher, Marshall, and Allen assert that he and John Butler were joint commanders on that occasion, and upon his memory rested the foul imputation of being a participant in the horrid transactions in Wyoming. Misled by history, Campbell, in his Gertrude of Wyoming, makes the Oneida say,
"This is no time to fill the joyous cup; The mammoth comes--the foe--the monster Brant, With all his howling, desolating band."
And again:
"Scorning to wield the hatchet for his tribe, 'Gainst Brant himself I went to battle forth, Accursed Brant I he left of all my tribe Nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth. No I not the dog that watched my household hearth Escaped that night of blood upon the plains. All perish'd! I alone am left on earth! To whom nor relative nor blood remains--No, not a kindred drop that runs in human veins."
* Brant always denied any participation in the invasion, but the evidence of history was against him, and the verdict of the world was, that he was the chief actor in the tragedy. From this aspersion Mr. Stone vindicated his character in his Life of Brant. A reviewer, understood to be Caleb Cushing, of Massachusetts, disputed the point, and maintained that Stone had not made out a clear case for the sachem. Unwilling to remain deceived, if he was so, Mr. Stone made a journey to the Seneca country, where he found several surviving warriors who were engaged in that campaign. The celebrated Seneca chief Kaoundoowand, better known as Captain Pollard, who was a young chief in the battle, gave Mr. Stone a clear account of the events, and was positive in his declarations that Brant and the Mohawks were not engaged in that campaign. The Indians were principally Senecas, and were led by Gi-en- gwa-tah, as mentioned in the text. John Brant, a son of the Mohawk sachem, while in England in 1823, on a mission in behalf of his nation, opened a correspondence with Mr. Campbell on the subject of the injustice which the latter had done the chief in his Gertrude of Wyoming. The result was a partial acknowledgment of his error by the poet, in the next edition of the poem that was printed. He did not change a word of the poem, but referred to the use of Brant's name there, in a note, in which he says, "His son referred to documents which completely satisfied me that the common accounts of Brant's cruelties at Wyoming, which I had found in books of travels, and in Adolphus's and other similar histories of England, were gross errors.... The name of Brant, therefore, remains in my poem a pure and declared character of fiction." This was well enough as far as it went; but an omission, after such a conviction of error, to blot out the name entirely from the poem, was unworthy of the character of an honest man; and the stain upon the poet's name will remain as long as the libel upon a humane warrior shall endure in the epic.
Disposition of the Belligerents for Battle.--Speech of Colonel Zebulon Butler.--The Attack.--Colonel Zebulon Butler.
355son's Greens, under Captain Caldwell, * formed on Butler's right, and Indian marksmen were placed at intervals along the line. Colonel Zebulon Butler commanded the right of the Americans, aided by Major Garratt. The left was commanded by Colonel Denison, of the Wyoming militia, assisted by Lieutenant-colonel Dorrance. The battle-ground was a level plain, partly cleared and cultivated, and partly covered by shrub oaks and yellow pines
As the Americans approached the lines of the enemy, they perceived Wintermoot's Fort, in flames, fired, no doubt, to prevent its falling into the hands of the patriots, an event that seemed quite probable to the Tory leader, who was ignorant of the exact number of men marching against him. Captains Durkee and Ransom, and Lieutenants Ross and Wells, were sent forward to reconnoiter and select the position for battle. The Wyoming companies approached separately, and as they were wheeled into line, Colonel Zebulon Butler thus addressed them: "Men, yonder is the enemy. The fate of the Hardings tells us what we have to expect if defeated. We come out to fight, not only for liberty, but for life itself, and, what is dearer, to preserve our homes from conflagration, our women and children from the tomahawk. Stand firm the first shock, and the Indians will give way. Every man to his duty." **
At the conclusion of Colonel Butler's short address, the Americans opened the battle on the enemy's left. It was about four o'clock, the sky cloudless, and the heat quite oppressive. The Americans were ordered to advance a step at each fire. Soon the battle became general, and the British left, where Colonel John Butler, stripped of his feathers and other trap-
* It is uncertain whether either of the Johnsons was in this campaign.. As they do not appear in any official connection, it is probable they were not.
** Zebulon Butler was one of the early settlers in the Wyoming Valley. He was a native of Lyme, New London county, Connecticut, and was born in 1731. On the breaking out of the French and Indian war lie entered the array as an ensign. He was at Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and other places in Northern New York. He was also in the memorable expedition to Havana during that war, and rose to the rank of captain. He left the service at the peace in 1763. In 1769 he emigrated to Wyoming, and became one of the leading men in that settlement. Before he left Connecticut he was strongly imbued with feelings of hostility to the mother country, which the agitations of the Stamp Act had engendered, and when the Revolution broke out he was found an active patriot. He was appointed colonel in 1778. He accompanied Sullivan in his memorable Indian expedition in 1779, and served with distinction throughout the war. In 1787 he was made lieutenant of the new county of Luzerne, which office he held until its abrogation by the new Constitution in 1790. He died on the 28th of July, 1795, at his residence, about a mile and a half above Wilkesbarre, and his remains were buried in the grave-yard at the borough. "Among other marks of respect to his memory," says Mr. Minor, "a monody of a dozen verses was written, one of which was inscribed on his tombstone:
"Distinguished by his usefulness. At home and when abroad, At court, in camp, and in recess, Protected still by God."
** Colonel Butler was thrice married. His first wife was Ellen Lord; his second, the daughter of the Rev Mr. Johnson, of Wyoming (the Indian interpreter already mentioned); and the third was Miss Phobe Haight, whom he married while he was on duty at West Point, near the close of the war. Colonel Butler was a well-educated and intelligent man, as his letters show.
** An autograph letter to General Washington, kindly given me by his grandson, the Hon. Chester Butler, of Wilkesbarre, from which this facsimile of his signature is copied, is a good specimen, not only of the chirography, but of the perspicuity, terseness, and comprehensive style that characterized the military dispatches of the Revolutionary officers. He was one of those reliable men whom Washington cherished in memory, and after the war he received tokens of the chief's regard. Activity, energy, and a high sense of honor were the distinguishing 'rails of Colonel Butler's character. He was not a relative of the Tory John Butler, as some have asserted.
Battle of Wyoming.--Denison's Order mistaken.--Retreat of the Americans.--Scene at Monocasy Island.
356pings, appeared, with a handkerchief tied round his head, earnestly cheering his men, began to give way. But a flanking party of Indians, which covered that wing of the enemy, and was concealed under some bushes upon the ancient river bank, kept up a galling fire. Captain Durkee was slain by one of their shots. * In the mean time the Indian sharp-shooters along the line kept up a horrid yell, the sound of which reached the ears of the women and children at the fort: For half an hour the battle was waged with unceasing energy on both sides, but the vastly superior numbers of the enemy began to manifest its advantage. The Indians on the American left, sheltered and half concealed by the swamp, succeeded in outflanking Colonel Denison, and fell with terrible force upon his rear. He was thus exposed to the cross fire of the Tories and Indians. Perceiving this, he ordered his men to fall back in order to change his position. The order was mistaken for one to retreat. That word was uttered with fatal distinctness along the line, and his whole division fled in confusion at the moment when the British left was giving way.
A few minutes more of firm resistance might have given victory to the republicans. The American Colonel Butler and Colonel Dorrance used every exertion to rally the fugitives and retrieve the loss, but in vain. Colonel Butler, seemingly unconscious of danger, rode along the lines exposed to the fire of the contending parties, beseeching his troops to remain firm. "Don't leave me, my children," he exclaimed, "and the victory is ours!" But it was too late; the Indians leaped forward like wounded tigers. Every American captain that led a company into action was slain at the head of his men. Longer resistance was vain, and the whole American line, broken, shattered, and dispersed, fled in confusion, some in the direction of Forty Fort, and others toward Monocasy Island, nearly a mile distant, and the only point on the river that promised them an opportunity to escape. The scene that ensued was terrible indeed. A portion of the flanking party of Indians rushed forward to cut off the retreat to Forty Fort, while the rest of the invaders, following the main portion of the army, who fled through the fields of grain toward Monocasy Island, slaughtered them by scores. Many who could not swim, and hesitated upon the brink of the river, were shot down; and others, who hid themselves in bushes upon the shore, were dragged out and shot or tomahawked, regardless of their cry for quarter. Many swam to Monocasy Island, whither their pursuers followed and hunted them like deers in cover. Others were shot while swimming; and some, who were lured back to the shore by promises of quarter, were butchered. Only a few escaped to the eastern side of the river and fled in safety to the mountains. **
* Captain Robert Durkee was a younger brother of Colonel John Durkee. When the Valley was menaced, and he was refused permission to return home, he resigned his commission in the army, and hastened to the defense of his family. He was a volunteer in the battle where he lost his life.
** This view is from the left or eastern bank of the Susquehanna, opposite the center of Monocasy Island, looking up the river. Toward the foreground, on the right of the picture, a little beyond the bar-post, is seen a ravine, through which the fugitives who crossed the river in safety made their way. On the left are seen the upper end of Monocasy, and a sand-bar which divides the waters of the river. The distant hills on the left are those which bound the western side of the valley. From the head of Monocasy Island, across the sand-bar, the river is often fordable in summer to the eastern side.
*** It would be neither pleasant nor profitable to relate the many instances of suffering on that occasion. All the horrors of war, although on a small scale, were exhibited on that memorable day; and were the particulars chronicled, the most rapacious gourmand of horrors might be surfeited. I will mention one or two circumstances, which sufficiently exhibit the bestiality of human character developed by civil war, destroying or stifling every feeling of consanguineous affection or neighborly regard. One of the fugitives, named Pensil, hid himself among the willows upon Monocasy Island. His Tory brother, who had joined in the pursuit, found him there concealed, and recognized him. The fugitive cast himself at his brother's feet and begged his life, promising to serve him till death if he would spare him. But the brother was changed to a demon. "Mighty well, you damned rebel!" he tauntingly replied, and instantly shot him dead! The Oneida savage mentioned in a previous chapter refused to imbrue his hands in his brother's blood. The worst passions raged with wild and desolating fury. All the sweet charities of life seemed extinguished. Lieutenant Shoemaker, one of the most generous and benevolent of men, whose wealth enabled him to dispense charity and do good, which was a delight to him, fled to the river, when Windecker, a man who had often fed at his board and drunk of his cup, came to the brink. "Come out, come out," he said; "you know I will protect you." How could Shoemaker doubt it? Windecker reached out his left hand as if to lead him, much exhausted, ashore, and dashed his tomahawk into the head of his benefactor, who fell back and floated away.--See Miner, p. 225.
Escape of Colonels Butler and Denison.--Cruelties of the Indians.--Scene at "Queen Esthers's Rock."--Queen Esther.
357Colonel Zebulon Butler escaped to Wilkesbarre Fort and Colonel Denison to Forty Fort, where the latter mustered the few soldiers that came in, placed sentinels, and prepared for a defense of the women and children collected there.
Darkness put an end to the pursuit, but not to the horrors. It was a dreadful night for Wyoming, for the enemy, elated by victory, held their fearful orgies upon the battle-field.
"Whoop after whoop with rack the car assail'd,
As if unearthly fiends had hurst their bar;
While rapidly the marksman's shot prevail'd,
And aye, as if for death, some lonely trumpet wail'd.'' *
Many prisoners suffered the martyrdom of savage torture, while some of their friends on the opposite shore, near Pittston, powerless to help them, observed the dreadful proceedings by the light of the fires. Captain Bidlack was thrown, alive, upon the burning timbers of Wintermoot's Fort, where he was held down with pitchforks until he expired! Prisoners were arranged in circles around large stones, and, while strong Indians held them, they were dispatched with a tomahawk. One of these stones, called Queen Esther's Rock, is pointed out to the curious. It is upon the old river bank, about forty rods east of the main road, three miles above Forty Fort, and near the house that belonged to a Mr. Gay. Around it sixteen prisoners were arranged in a circle, and each was held by a savage. A half-breed Indian woman, called Queen Esther, *** assumed the office of executioner, and, using a maul and tomahawk alternately as she passed around the
* Gertrude of Wyoming.
** This view is near the ancient river bank, looking westward. The rock is a sort of conglomerate, a large proportion of which is quartz. Some of it is of a reddish color, which the credulous believe to bo stains of blood still remaining. The rock projects only about eighteen inches above the ground, and its size is denoted by the figure standing beside it. In the distance, on the left, is seen the monument which has been erected to the memory of those who fell on the occasion. This scene includes a portion of the battle-ground. The little village of Troy also occupies a part of the field of conflict.
*** Queen Esther, as she was called, was the celebrated Catharine Montour, whose residence was at Catharinestown, near the head of Seneca Lake, in New York. The town was named after her, and was the first of the Indian villages destroyed by Sullivan in 1779, after the battle of Chemung. She was a native of Canada, and her father was one of the French governors, probably Frontenac. She was made a captive during the wars between the Hurons and French and the Six Nations, and was carried into the Seneca country, where she married a young chief who was signalled in the wars against the Catawbas. He fell in battle, about the year 1730. Catharine had several children by him, and remained a widow. Her superior mind gave her great ascendency over the Senecas, and she was a queen indeed among them. She accompanied the delegates of the Six Nations to Philadelphia on several occasions, where her refinement of manners and attractive person made her an object of much regard, and she was greatly caressed by the ladies of that city. From the circumstance of her refinement of manners, Mr. Stone argues that she could not have been guilty of the atrocities at Wyoming which history has attributed to her. But Mr. Miner, whose means for correct information on points connected with the history of Wyoming were much superior to those of Mr. Stone, clearly fixes the guilt upon her. She was well known to Colonel Denison and Colonel Franklin, and they both explicitly charge her with the deed. Two of her sons accompanied her in the expedition, and it is said that her fury on the occasion was excited by the death of one of them, in the fight that occurred near Fort Jenkins on the 2d of July, the day before the battle of Wyoming. She must have been then nearly eighty years of age. One of General Sullivan's men, in his journal, cited by Minor, speaks of reaching "Queen Esther's plantation" [Sheshequin], where she "dwelt in retirement and sullen majesty. The ruins of her palace," he said, "are still to be seen. In what we supposed to be the chapel we found an idol, which might well be worshiped without violating the third commandment on account of its likeness to any thing in heaven or on earth. About sunrise the general gave orders for Catharinestown to be illuminated, and accordingly we had a glorious bonfire of upward of thirty buildings." One of the sons of Kate Montour, as she was familiarly called, was with Walter Butler at Cherry Valley, and with his own hands captured Mr. Cannon, the father of Mrs. Campbell, mentioned in our account of the invasion of that settlement. The old man's life was spared, and he was taken to Niagara. Kate Montour was there, and "was greatly enraged," says Stone, "because her son had not killed him outright." This "exhibition of a savage temper" is in accordance with her acts at Bloody Rock.
Cruelties of Queen Esther.--Scenes at Forty Fort.--Negotiations for a Surrender.--Escape of Colonel Zebulon Butler.
358singing the death-song, deliberately murdered the prisoners in consecutive order as they were arranged. The time was midnight, and, the scene being lighted up by a large fire burning near, she appeared like a very fury from Pandemonium while performing her bloody work. With the death of each victim her fury increased, and her song rose clearer and louder upon the midnight air. Two of the prisoners (Lebbeus Hammond and Joseph Elliot), seeing there was no hope, shook off the Indians who held them, and, with a desperate spring, fled to a thicket, amid the rifle- balls and tomahawks that were sent after them, and escaped. Similar scenes were enacted on other portions of the battle-field on that dreadful night, but we will draw a vail before the revolting picture, and view occurrences at Forty Fort, where the hopes of the settlement were now centered.
Terrible were the suspense and anxiety of the people at the fort while the battle was in progress. They could distinctly hear the firing, and, when the shots became fewer and nearer, hope departed, for they knew the Americans were dispersed and retreating. At twilight Captain John Franklin arrived at Forty Fort, with the Hunterdon and Salem company, of thirty-five men. It was a timely re-enforcement, and revived the hopes of the little remnant of Denison's force. The night was spent in sleepless vigilance and alarm by those within the forts, while the people without were flying to the mountains and the wilderness July 4, 1778 beyond, under cover of the darkness. Early the next morning a messenger was dispatched to Wilkesbarre Fort, to send up the cannon, and cause the whole settlement to concentrate for defense at Forty Fort. But all was confusion. The people were flying in dismay, and leaving their homes a prey to the invaders. The messenger returned with his melancholy tidings just as another arrived from Colonel John Butler, demanding a surrender, and requesting Colonel Denison to come up to head-quarters, near the still burning ruins of Wintermoot's Fort, to agree on terms of capitulation. Already the principal stockade at Pittston (Fort Brown) had surrendered, and, there being no hope of a successful defense, Colonel Denison complied. Colonel Butler demanded the surrender of all the forts, and also of Colonel Zebulon Butler and his Continental troops (numbering only fifteen men) as prisoners of war. Colonel Denison hastened back, by agreement, to consult with his brother officers. He conferred with Colonel Zebulon Butler at Wilkesbarre Fort, and it was agreed that the latter and his men should immediately retire from the valley. He placed Mrs. Butler behind him upon his horse, and that night they slept at Conyngham, in the Nescopeek Valley, twenty miles from Wilkesbarre. Colonel Denison, on returning, reported to the British leader that the Continentals were beyond his command, and negotiations were opened without reference to them. The terms were verbally agreed upon, but, there being no conveniences for writing at hand, the contracting parties went to Forty Fort, and, upon a table belonging to a Mr. Bennet, the terms of capitulation were drawn up and signed. *
* The following is a copy of the articles of capitulation, dated Westmoreland, July 4th, 1778:
"Art. 1st. That the inhabitants of the settlement lay down their arms, and the garrisons be demolished.
"2d. That the inhabitants occupy their farms peaceably, and the lives of the inhabitants be preserved entire and unhurt.
"3d. That the Continental stores be delivered up.
"4th. That Major Butler will use his utmost influence that the private property of the inhabitants shall be preserved entire to them.
"5th. That the prisoners in Forty Fort be delivered up, and that Samuel Finch, now in Major Butler's possession, be delivered up also.
"6th. That the property taken from the people called Tories, up the river, be made good, and they to remain in peaceable possession of their farms, unmolested in a free trade in and throughout the state, as far as lies in my power.
"7th. That the inhabitants that Colonel Denison now capitulates for, together with himself, do not take up arms during the present contest.
"Nathan Denison
Signed John Butler.
"Zarah Beech, Samuel Gustin,
John Johnson, William Caldwell."
Surrender of the Fort.--Treaty Table.--Conduct of the Tories.--Bad Faith of the Indiana.--The Treaty.
359Colonel Butler, ascertaining that there were several casks of whisky in the fort, ordered them to be rolled to the bank of the river and emptied, fearing that they might fall into the hands of the Indians and make them unmanageable.
Every thing being arranged, the two gates of the fort were thrown open. The arms of the patriots were piled up in the center, and the women and children retired within the huts that lined the interior of the stockade. At the appointed time the victors approached, with drums beating and colors flying. They came in two columns, whites and Indians. The former were led by Colonel John Butler, who entered the north gate, and the latter by Queen Esther, the bloody priestess of the midnight sacrifice. She was followed by Gi-en-gwa-tah, who, with his warriors, entered the south gate. The Wily chief, fearing treachery, glanced quickly to the right and left as he entered. The Tories, with their natural instinct for plunder, immediately seized the piled arms. Butler ordered them to desist, and presented the muskets to the Indians. The inhabitants were then marked by the Indians with black paint in their faces, and ordered to carry a white cloth on a stick. These were badges which, the savages said, would insure their protection.
The terms of the capitulation were respected by the invaders, particularly the Indians, for a few hours only. Before night they spread through the valley, plundering the few people that were left, and burning the dwellings of those already gone to the wilderness. The village of Wilkesbarre, containing twenty-three houses, was burned, and the inhabitants, with others remaining in the valley, fled in dismay toward the mountains, whither a great number of their friends had gone during the night. Only one life *** was taken after the surrender
* The table on which the capitulation was drawn up and signed was still in possession of a daughter of Mr. Bennet (Airs. Myers) when I visited her in September, 1848. I shall have occasion to mention this venerable woman presently. The table is of black walnut, small, and of oval form, and was a pretty piece of furniture when new. It is preserved with much care by the family. The house of Mr. Bennet was near Forty Fort, and himself and family, with their most valuable effects, were within the stockade when it surrendered.
** This was Sergeant Boyd, a deserter from the British army. Standing in the gateway of the fort after the capitulation, Colonel Butler recognized him, and said, sternly, "Boyd, go to that tree!" "I hope," said Boyd, imploringly, "your honor will consider me a prisoner of war." "Go to that tree, sir," shouted Butler. The sergeant obeyed, and a volley from some Indian marksmen laid him dead upon the spot.
* In all accounts of the war John Butler is denominated a colonel, while here he gives what was doubtless his true title. Lord George Germaine, in a dispatch to Sir Henry Clinton, gives him the rank of lieutenant colonel. This capitulation was highly honorable, and certainly affords a plea in favor of the merciful character of Butler claimed for him by his friends. In the transactions which subsequently took place he declared his inability to control the Indians. Thia may have been true. But no honorable man would have headed such an expedition; and whatever may have been his efforts to allay the whirlwind of destruction which he had raised, history holds him responsible, next to his government, for the dreadful tragedy in Wyoming. The stories of his cruelties, set afloat by the flying fugitives from the valley, and incorporated in the histories of Gordon, Ramsay, and other early historians of the war, have been refuted by ample testimony, and proved to be the offspring of Imaginations greatly excited by the terrors of the battle and flight. The story, that when Colonel Denison asked Butler upon what terms he would accept a surrender, he replied, "The hatchet," and tales of a kindred nature of cruelties permitted by him, have no foundation in truth.
Flight of the People over the Pocono.--Incidents of the Flight.-- Providential Aid of Mr. Hollenback.--Preservation of Papers
360of Forty Fort, but numbers of women and children perished in their flight in the great swamp on the Pocono Mountains, known as the Shades of Death, and along the wilderness paths by the way of the Wind-gap and Water-gap, to the settlements on the Lehigh and Delaware. So sudden was their departure, that scarcely a morsel of food was secured. Terrible indeed were the incidents of that flight, as related by the sufferers and their friends, and recorded by Chapman and Miner. "Tears gushed from the eyes of the aged widow of Mr. Cooper," says Mr. Miner, "when she related that her husband had lain on his face to lap up a little meal which a companion in their flight had spilled on the earth. Children were born, and several perished in the 'Dismal Swamp,' or 'Shades of Death,' as it is called to this day. Mrs. Treusdale was taken in labor; daring to delay but a few minutes, she was seen with her infant moving onward upon a horse. Jabez Fish, who was in the battle, escaped; but, not being able to join his family, was supposed to have fallen; and Mrs. Fish hastened with her children through the wilderness. Overcome by fatigue and want, her infant died. Sitting down a moment on a stone, to see it draw its last breath, she gazed in its face with unutterable anguish. There were no means to dig a grave, and to leave it to be devoured by wolves seemed worse than death; so she took the dead babe in her arms and carried it twenty miles, when she came to a German settlement. Though poor, they gave her food; made a box for the child, attended her to the grave-yard, and decently buried it, kindly bidding her welcome until she should be rested.
"The wife of Ebenezer Marcy was taken in labor in the wilderness. Having no mode of conveyance, her sufferings were inexpressibly severe. She was able to drag her fainting steps but about two miles that day. The next, being overtaken by a neighbor with a horse, she rode, and in a week was more than a hundred miles with her infant from the place of its birth.
"Mrs. Rogers, from Plymouth, an aged woman, flying with her family, overcome by fatigue and sorrow, fainted in the wilderness, twenty miles from human habitation. She could take no nourishment, and soon died. They made a grave in the best manner they could.... Mrs. Courtwright relates that she, then a young girl flying with her father's family, saw sitting by the road side a widow, who had learned the death of her husband. Six children were on the ground near her--the group the very image of despair, for they were without food. Just at that moment a man was seen riding rapidly toward them from the settlements. It was Mr. Hollenback. * Foreseeing their probable destitution, he had providentially loaded his horse with bread, and was hastening back, like an angel of mercy, to their relief. Cries and tears of gratitude and welcome went up to heaven. He imparted a morsel to each, and hastened on to the relief of others.
The widow of Anderson Dana, Esq., ** and her widowed daughter, Mrs. Whiton, did not learn certainly the death of their husbands until they were at Bullock's, on the mountain, ten miles on their way. Many then heard the fate of their relatives, and a messenger brought to Mr. Bullock word that both his sons were dead on the field. Then were heard mourning and lamentation, with wringing of hands. Mrs. Dana had been extraordinarily careful. Not only had she provided food, but had taken a pillow-case of valuable papers (her husband being much engaged in public business), the preservation of which has thrown much light on our path of research. Depending chiefly on charity, the family sought their ancient home in
* Mr. Hollenback survived the battle, and escaped by swimming the river at Monocasy Island. He crossed the mountains to the settlements in advance of the fugitives.
** Anderson Dana was from Ashford, Windham county, Connecticut. He was a lawyer of good attainments; his talents and zeal, in the promotion of the welfare of the Wyoming settlement, obtained from the people their unanimous suffrage, and he was elected a member of the Connecticut Assembly. Returning home when Wyoming was threatened, he mounted his horse, and, riding from family to family throughout the valley, aroused the people to action, and, though exempt from military duty, hastened to the field and fell. His son-in-law, Stephen Whiton, but a few weeks married, also went into the battle and was slain.
Picture of the Flight.--Story of the Fugitives published at Poughkeepsie.--Errors of History.--Bad Faith of the Invaders
361Connecticut. These few instances, selected from a hundred, will present some idea of the dreadful flight."1
What a picture did that flight present! No embellishment of fancy is needed to give it effect. One hundred women and children, with but a single man to guide and protect them, are seen, in the wildest terror, hurrying to the mountains. "Let the mind picture to itself a single group, flying from the valley to the mountains on the east, and climbing the steep ascent; hurrying onward, filled with terror, despair, and sorrow; the affrighted mother, whose husband has fallen, with an infant on her bosom, a child by the hand, an aged parent slowly climbing the rugged steep behind them; hunger presses them severely; in the rustling of every leaf they hear the approaching savage; a deep and dreary wilderness before them, the valley all in flames behind; their dwellings and harvests all swept away in this spring flood of ruin, and the star of hope quenched in this blood shower of savage vengeance." **
From the settlements on the Delaware the fugitives made their way to Connecticut by various routes, and the tales of horror of a few who crossed the Hudson at Poughkeepsie were published in a newspaper printed there. The account of the atrocities therein related was repeated every where in America and in Europe, and, remaining uncontradicted, formed the material for the darkest chapter in the annals of the Revolution, as recorded by the earlier historians. No doubt the fugitives believed they were telling truths. The battle, the devastation of the valley, and the flight across the wilderness were matters of their own experience; and other refugees, joining them in their flight, added their various recitals to the general narrative of woe. We will not stop to detail what has been erroneously written. The pages of Gordon, Ramsay, and Botta will satisfy those who wish to "sup on horrors." The researches of Mr. Minor have obliterated half the stain which those recitals cast upon human nature, and we should rejoice at the result, for the honor of the race. It is but just to the memory of the dead to say, in passing, that the conduct of Colonels Zebulon Butler and Nathan Denison *** on the occasion has been falsely represented, and injustice done to their characters. All that could be done was done by those brave and devoted men.
Our story of the disaster in Wyoming is almost ended. Although alarm and distress prevailed there until the close of the war, there were no hostilities of greater moment than the menaces of savages and a few skirmishes with marauders. But, before closing the historic tome, let us briefly glance at the events in the valley which followed the surrender of the forts and the flight of the people.
As we have seen, the terms of capitulation were broken by the invaders within a few hours after the treaty was signed, and the houses of the people and fields of waving grain were plundered and destroyed. The Indians began by breaking open the trunks and boxes in the huts of the surrendered fort. The town papers were scattered, and many valuable records were destroyed. Colonel Denison called upon Butler repeatedly to enforce the terms of capitulation by restraining the Indians. Butler did, indeed, attempt to restrain them, but they utterly disregarded his orders. At length, finding his authority set at naught, doubtless considering his own life in danger should he attempt harsh measures of control, and probably fearing greater enormities on the part of the Indians, Butler withdrew from the July 8, 1778 valley. **** Gi-en-gwa- tah interposed his authority, and a greater part of the Indians
* History of Wyoming, p. 230.
** The Hazleton Travelers. This is not a volume, but a series of biographical and historical sketches by Charles Miner, Esq., in the form of colloquies between two travelers from Hazleton. They were published in the Wyoming Republican in 1837-8. They are admirably conceived and written, and contain vivid pictures of the character and sufferings of the people of Wyoming during the Revolution.
*** Colonel Nathan Denison was a native of New London, Connecticut, and was one of the early settlers in Wyoming. He was well educated, and was an active man in the valley. After the close of the war he held several important offices under the authority of Pennsylvania. He died January 25th, 1809, aged sixty-eight years.
**** Mr. Miner gives Colonel Butler full credit for humane intentions, and believes that he desired to regard faithfully the terms of the capitulation, and that he made the most earnest endeavors to prevent the pillage and murders which ensued. On the authority of a Mr. Finch, a prisoner at the time, who went over the battle-ground with Mr. Miner in 1838, he says that Colonel Butler received a letter on the 5th, which hastened his departure from the valley. It probably gave him notice of the approach of Captain Spalding or some other expected re-enforcements. Mr. Miner tells an amusing anecdote of Finch. They called together upon Mrs. Jenkins, an aged lady, more than eighty years old, who was a prisoner in Forty Fort. She instantly recognized Finch, and said, with much archness and humor, "Oh, yes, Finch, to be sure I remember you. An old squaw took you and brought you in. She found you in the bushes, and, as she drove you along, patted you on the back, saying, 'My son, my son!'" Finch did not relish the exposure as well as the by-standers. He had been playing the hero in his account of the battle. Mrs. Jenkins stripped him of his plumage, and he soon after left the valley.
Departure of the Invaders from the Valley.--Indian Cruelties.--Arrival at Succor.--Expedition against the Indians.
362followed the leaders, with Queen Esther and her retinue in the van. The appearance of the retiring enemy was extremely ludicrous, aside from the melancholy savageism that was presented. Many squaws accompanied the invaders, and these brought up the rear. Some had belts around their waists, made of scalps stretched upon small hoops; some had on from four to six dresses of chintz or silk, one over the other; and others, mounted on stolen horses, and seated, "not sidewise, but otherwise," had on their heads four or five bonnets, one within another.
As soon as Butler and the main body of the invaders left the valley, the Indians that remained, wholly uncontrolled, swept over the plains in small bands of from five to ten, and wantonly destroyed the crops, burned houses and barns, and treated the few remaining people most cruelly. * Several murders were committed, and terror again reigned in the valley. Colonel Denison, and all who remained at Forty Fort, fled, some down the river and some to the mountains. Except a few who gathered about the fort at Wilkesbarre, the whole people abandoned the settlement. It presented one wide scene of conflagration and ruin.
Captain Spalding was between the Pocono and Blue Mountains, nearly fifty miles from Wilkesbarre, on the day of the battle. Apprised of the event by the flying settlers, he hastened forward, and when within twelve miles of the valley sent two scouts to reconnoiter. From the brow of the mountain they saw the flames rising in all directions, and the valley in complete possession of the invaders. The efforts of a single company would be vain, and Captain Spalding returned to Stroudsburg, to await the orders of Colonel Zebulon Butler, August 3, 1778 who soon returned to Wyoming. When the enemy had left the valley, Spalding marched thither, and took up his quarters at Wilkesbarre Fort, a which he strengthened. Other means for the defense of the valley were adopted, and a few of those who had fled returned, with the hope of securing something that might be left of all their desolated possessions. Some of them were waylaid and shot by straggling Indians and Tories. There was no security; throughout that fertile valley fire was the only reaper, and the luscious fruits fell to the earth ungathered. Even the dead upon the battle-ground lay unburied until the autumn frosts had come; and when their mutilated and shriveled bodies were collected and cast into one common receptacle of earth, but few could be identified, October 22 That sad office was performed by guarded laborers, while parties of the enemy, like hungry vultures, scented their prey from afar, and hovered upon the mountains, ready to descend upon the stricken settlers when opportunity should offer.
Colonel Hartly, of the Pennsylvania line, joined Colonel Zebulon Butler, and an expedition was arranged to expel the marauders. In September a detachment of one hundred and thirty men marched to Shesequin, Queen Esther's plantation, a beautiful plain on the east branch of the Susquehanna (now in Bradford county), where a battle ensued. Several of
* One illustrative instance I will mention. From the farm of an old man named Weekes, seven persons, three of whom were his sons, one a grandson-in-law, two relatives, and the last a boarder, went out to the battle. At night the whole seven lay dead on the field! After the capitulation, a band of Indians came to his house and ordered him away. "How can I?" he said; "my whole family you have killed. How can I with fourteen grandchildren, all young and helpless." They feasted on the food in his house; and one of the Indians, taking the hat from the old man's head, and placing himself in a large rocking-chair which he had taken to the road, rocked with much glee. They then informed him that he might have three days allowed him to prepare for departure, and the use of a pair of oxen and a wagon to carry away his grandchildren. He departed, and the savages set fire to the building, and destroyed all that was left. Over the rough country along the Lackawanna Mr. Weekes made his way to Orange county.--See Miner's Wyoming, p. 238, and Hazleton Travelers.
Return of Settlers.--Continued Alarm.--Murder of Mr. Slocum.--Sullivan's Expedition.--Situation of Wyoming.
363the Indians were killed, their settlement was broken up, and a quantity of plunder that had been taken from Wyoming was recovered. Returning to Wyoming, Colonel Hartly was called away, but left a garrison of one hundred men at Wilkesbarre Fort. Thus defended, although the season was much advanced, a few armed settlers plowed and sowed. Marauding parties of the enemy still hovered upon the mountains, and several of the whites were murdered in their fields, among whom was Jonathan Slocum, a member of the Society of Friends. The interesting story of the abduction of his little daughter, and her subsequent discovery among the Indians, will be related in the next chapter.
In March, 1779, the garrison at Wilkesbarre was menaced by a party of about two hundred and fifty Indians and painted Tories, who surrounded the fort. The discharge of a field piece drove them away, but, the garrison being too feeble to attempt a pursuit, the marauders carried off' much plunder, not, however, without suffering considerably in some smart skirmishes with the inhabitants. In April a re-enforcement for the garrison, under Major Powell, while marching toward Wyoming, fell into an Indian ambuscade. April 30Six of his men were killed, but the Indians were routed.
Toward the close of June, General Sullivan arrived in the valley, with his division of the army destined for the invasion of the Seneca country, the events of which have been narrated in a preceding chapter. The troops had rendezvoused at Easton, and marched to Wyoming by the way of the present turnpike. They arrived on the 23d of June, and encamped on the flats below Wilkesbarre. A large fleet of boats, that had been prepared in the lower waters of the Susquehanna, arrived, with provisions and stores, on the 24th. We have seen that Sullivan's movements were remarkably slow, and that the enemy became perfectly acquainted with his strength and his plans before he reached Tioga. The Indians, guided by the mind of Brant, tried to divert the attention of Sullivan by attacks upon his outposts. * Several of these occurred, but the American force was too large to be much affected by them, and on the 31st of July the tents were struck, and the whole army, with martial music and the thunder of cannon, moved up the Susquehanna, proceeding on the east side. As the fleet of boats approached Monocasy Island and the battle-ground, the lively music of fife and drum was changed to a solemn dirge, in honor of the patriot dead. The army encamped the first night a little above Pittston, near the confluence of the Susquehanna and Lackawanna Rivers. On the 5th it arrived at Wyalusing, on the 9th at Queen Esther's Plains (Shesequin), and on the 11th reached Tioga Point. The remainder of the story of the expedition has already been told.
As soon as the American army was gone, the Indians and Tories came prowling upon the borders of the valley, and, until peace was proclaimed, the settlers had no an hour of repose. "Revenge upon Wyoming," says Stone, "seemed a cherished luxury to the infuriated savages, hovering upon her outskirts upon every side. It was a scene of war, blood, and suffering.... In the course of this harassing warfare there were many severe skirmishes, several heroic risings of prisoners upon their Indian captors, and many hair-breadth escapes." ** It would require a volume to detail them, and the reader, desirous of more minute information, is referred to the works of Chapman, Miner, and Stone. I have other and broader regions to traverse and explore, and other pages of our wondrous history to open and recite. Let us close the book for the present, and ramble a while along the banks of the Susquehanna, where the tragedy we have been considering was enacted, but where now the smiles of peace, prosperity, and repose gladden the heart of the dweller and the stranger.
* The boldness of the Indians was remarkable. Although the Americans in camp were three thousand strong, they approached within two or three miles of the tents, and committed murders.
** History of Wyoming p. 206.
Present Scenery in Wyoming.--Allusion to Campbell's Poem--Visit to Kingston and Forty Fort
364
Chapter XVI
"I then but dream'd: thou art before me now
In life, a vision of the brain no more.
I've stood upon the wooded mountain's brow,
That beetles high fly lovely valley o'er.
Nature hath made thee lovelier than the power
Even of Campbell's pen hath pictured; he
Had woven, had ne gazed one sunny hour
Upon thy smiling vale, its scenery
With more of truth, and made each rock and tree
Known like old friends, and greeted from afar;
And there are tales of sad reality
In the dark legends of thy border war,
With woes of deeper tint than his own Gertrude's are."
Halleck.
MIST still reposed upon the waters, and veiled the fringe of trees along the Susquehanna, when, late in the morning, I left Wilkesbarre, in company with Mr. Lord Butler, to visit the celebrities of the valley. The poetry of the bard and the solemn prose of the historian awakened thoughts and associations which invested every venerable tree and antiquated dwelling, the plains, the river, and the mountains, with all the glowing characteristics of romance. The simple beauty of nature, though changed in feature, is as attractive as of old.
"But where are they, the beings of the mind,
The bard's creations, molded not of clay,
Hearts to strange bliss and sufferings assign'd--
Young Gertrude, Albert, Waldegrave--where are they?
Waldegrave 'twere in vain
To point out here, unless in yon scarecrow
That stands full uniform'd upon the plain
To frighten flocks of crows and blackbirds from the grain.
"For he would look particularly droll
In his 1 Iberian boot' and ' Spanish plume,'
And be the wonder of each Christian soul,
As of the birds that scarecrow and his broom.
But Gertrude, in her loveliness and bloom,
Hath many a model here; for woman's eye,
In court or cottage, wheresoe'er her home,
Hath a heart-spell too holy and too high
To be o'er-praised, even by her worshiper--Poesy."
Halleck.
We crossed the plain to Kingston, a pretty village about half a mile westward of Wilkesbarre, and then proceeded to the site of Forty Fort, three and a half miles above, which is reached by a road diverging toward the river from the main road to the head of the valley. It stood near the river bank, at a curve in the stream. Not a single trace of it is left, the spot having been long a common, perfectly smooth, and covered with a green sward. Near the site of the fort is a venerable house, one of the few that escaped the general conflagra-
The "Treaty Table" at Forty Fort.--Site of the Fort.--Visit to the Monument.--Inscription upon it.
365tion, and close by is the residence of one of Mrs. Myers's family, in whoso possession I found the treaty table, pictured in the last chapter. The venerable owner was not there, but I afterward saw her at the house of her son, near Kingston. A cottage and its garden occupy the bank of the river where the trembling families at Forty Fort stood and listened to the noise of the battle; and from that point is a charming river view, bounded on the northwest by the lofty range of the Shawnee Mountains, through which the Susquehanna makes its way into the valley.
From Forty Fort we rode up to the monument, which is situated in a field a few rods east of the main road, near the pleasant little village of Troy, five and a half miles from Wilkesbarre. It is constructed of hewn blocks of granite, quarried in the neighborhood, is sixty two and a half feet in height, and stands upon the spot where the dead were buried in the autumn succeeding the battle. * On two marble tablets are engraved the names of those who fell, so far as could be ascertained, and also of those who were in the battle and survived. Another marble tablet contains an inscription, written by Edward Mallory, Esq. ** This monument, like many others proposed to be erected to the memory of Evolutionary men or events, was tardily conceived and more tardily executed. It remained unfinished nearly forty years after the first movements were made toward raising money for the purpose. As early as 1809,
Mr. Minor, the historian of the valley, wrote several essays intended to awaken public attention to the duty of erecting a monument, and in 1810 Charles F. Wells, Esq., wrote a stirring ode, concluding with the patriotic interrogation,
"O, when shall rise, with chisel'd head,
The tall stone o'er their burial-place,
Where the winds may sigh for the gallant dead,
And the dry grass rustle around its base?"
* Professor Silliman visited many of the Revolutionary grounds about twenty years ago. In his Journal, vol. xviii., p. 310, in describing his visit to Wyoming, he says that a Mr. Perrin, one of those who assisted in the burial of the dead, went over the ground with him, and assured him that, owing to the intense heat and dryness of the air, the bodies were shriveled, dry, and quite inoffensive. ** The following is the inscription upon the monument:
Near this spot was fought,
On the afternoon of Friday, the third day of July, 1778,
THE BATTLE OF WYOMING,
In which a small band of patriot Americans,
Chiefly the undisciplined, the youthful, and the aged,
Spared, by inefficiency, from the distant ranks of the republic,
Led by Colonel Zebulon Butler and Colonel Nathan Denison With a courage that deserved success,
Boldly met and bravely fought A combined British, Tory, and Indian force Of thrice their number.
Numerical superiority alone gave success to the invader,
And wide-spread havoc, desolation, and ruin Marked his savage and bloody footsteps through the valley.
THIS MONUMENT,
Commemorative of these events,
And of the actors in them,
Has been erected Over the bones of the slain,
By their descendants and others, who gratefully appreciate
The services and sacrifices of their patriot ancestors.
Efforts to erect the Wyoming Monument.--Success of the Ladies.-- Incidents of the Battle.--The Inman Family.
366 These appeals caused meetings to be held and resolutions to be adopted, but little more substantial was done until 1839, when a committee from Wyoming repaired to Hartford, to solicit pecuniary aid from the Legislature of Connecticut. The committee set forth the claims of the Wyoming people upon Connecticut, in consideration of past allegiance and services. A report was made, proposing a grant of three thousand dollars, but no further action was taken during that session. In 1841 another petition was presented, and so ably was the matter conducted that the lower branch of the Legislature voted the appropriation asked for, by a large majority. The Senate did not concur, and another failure was the consequence. The ladies of Wyoming, doubtless feeling the truth of Dr. Clarke's assertion, that "in all benevolent or patriotic enterprises the services of one woman are equal to those of seven men and a half," resolved that the monument should be erected. They formed a "Luzerne Monumental Association," * solicited donations, held fairs, and by their energy obtained the necessary funds and erected a monument, commemorative alike of patriotic deeds and of female influence. There is a world of philosophy (which solicitors of subscriptions would do well to observe) in the saying of Judge Halliburton's clock peddler, "The straight road to the pockets of the men is through the hearts of the women."
From the monument northward to the site of Wintermoot's Fort, a mile and a half, the road passes over the battle-ground; but tillage has so changed the whole scene, that nothing remains as token or landmark of the fight, except the ancient river bank, and the tangled morass toward the mountains, through' which the Indians made their way and fell upon Colonel Denison's rear. The place was pointed out to me, upon the road side, where, tradition says, one of the Wyoming men, somewhat intoxicated, lagged behind and fell asleep, when the little band marched to the attack of the invaders. When the retreat became general, and Colonel Zebulon Butler saw no other means of safety but flight, he put spurs to his horse. A swift-footed settler, hotly pursued by savages, caught the tail of Colonel Butler's horse as he passed by, and, with the tenacity of the witch that fastened upon the tail of Tam O'Shanter's mare, held on until he was far beyond danger. As they passed the spot where the inebriate had just awaked, perfectly sober, the man at the tail shouted to him to shoot the pursuing savage. He did so, and the Indian fell dead in the road. Near the same spot Rufus Bennet was pursued by an Indian. Both had discharged their pieces, and the savage was chasing with tomahawk and spear. Richard Inman, one of five brothers who were in the battle, shot the Indian with his rifle, who fell dead within a few feet of his intended victim.' Passing over the battle- ground, we visited the site of Wintermoot's Fort, a view of which is given on page 351, and, going down on the ancient bank of the Susquehanna, we came to Queen Esther's Rock, noticed and described on page 357. There is a scow ferry near, by which we crossed to the eastern side of the river, along whose margin, skirted with lofty-trees, we had a delightful ride to the ravine opposite Monocasy Island. Here the road departs from the river bank, and passes among fertile intervales between that point and Wilkesbarre. The wheat harvests were garnered, but the corn-fields and orchards were laden with the treas-
* The most active ladies in the association were descendants of those who suffered at the time of the invasion. The names of the officers of the society are as follows: Mrs. Chester Butler, President; Mrs. G M. Hollenback and Mrs. E. Carey, Vice-presidents; Mrs. J. Butler, Mrs. Nicholson, Mrs. Hollenback, Mrs Lewis, Mrs. Ross, Mrs. Conyngham, Sirs. Beaumont, Mrs. Drake, Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Carey, Executive Committee; Miss Emily Cist, Treasurer; Miss Gertrude Butler, Secretary; Mrs. Donley, Mrs. L. Butler, Corresponding Committee.
** The Inman family were terrible sufferers. Five brothers went to the field of battle. Two others (for the father had seven sons) would have gone forth, but they had no arms. Two were killed on the field, two escaped without injury, and the fifth, plunging into the waters under some willows on the river shore while heated by the exertions of the battle and the flight, took such a cold that in a few weeks he was in his grave. The remainder of the family fled with the rest of the settlement. In the fall they ventured to return, and put in some winter grain. A surviving son, a lad of nineteen years, while in the field, heard, as he supposed, some wild turkeys in the woods. He went after them, shots were heard, but the boy never came back. In the spring his body was found. He had been murdered and scalped by the Indians. Thus four sons of Elijah Inman perished within a few months. One of the sons, Colonel Edward Inman, is still living, I believe, upon a fine farm a few miles below Wilkesbarre.
Residence and Grave of Colonel Zebulon Butler.--Mr. Slocum and his Family History.--Abduction of his Sister.
367ures of the season, their abundance betokening the extreme fertility of the soil. We passed the homestead of Colonel Butler, near which,
"On the margin of yon orchard hill,
Are marks where time-worn battlements have been,
And in the tall grass traces linger still.
Of arrowy frieze and wedged ravelin."
Near the entrance to the village we came to the cemetery where repose many of the patriot dead of Wyoming. There rest the remains of Colonel Butler and his wife. The rude slab that first marked the bed of the hero had been removed, and in its place a neat white marble stone is laid, bearing the following inscription: "In memory of Colonel Zebulon Butler, of the Revolutionary army, who died July 28th, 1795, in the 64th year of his age; and also in memory of Mrs. Phoebe H. Butler, his wife, who died January 19th, 1837, in the 82d year of her age."
It was late in the day when I reached my lodgings, and, wearied by the rambles of the morning, resolved to pass the remainder of the afternoon with the Hazleton Travelers. Their conversation was exclusively of those who acted and suffered at the time of the massacre, and I listened with intense interest to the recitals of the "knowing one." I would gladly give the details here, if my space would allow, for they furnish one of the most interesting of those chapters in our Revolutionary history, showing the terrible cost at which our liberties were purchased. Mr. Minor has made the record, and to it the reader is referred.
I passed the evening with the venerable Joseph Slocum, whose family was among the sufferers in the Wyoming Valley. He related to me all the particulars of the capture and final discovery of his sister Frances, and other incidents connected with the sufferings of his family. His father was a Quaker, and was distinguished for his kindness to the Indians. He remained unharmed at the time of the invasion, and, while the torch was applied to the dwellings of others, his was left untouched. But his son Giles was in the battle. This doubtless excited the ire of the Indians, and they resolved on vengeance. Late in autumn they were seen prowling about the house, which was situated about one hundred rods from the Wilkesbarre Fort. A neighbor named Kingsley had been made a prisoner, and his wife and two sons had a welcome home in Mr. Slocum's family. One morning the November 2, 1778 two boys were grinding a knife near the house, when a rifle-shot and a shriek brought Mrs. Slocum to the door. An Indian was scalping the eldest boy, a lad of fifteen, with the knife he had been grinding. The savage then went into the house, and caught up a little son of Mrs. Slocum. "See!" exclaimed the frightened mother, "he can do thee no good; he is lame." The Indian released the boy, took up her little daughter Frances, aged five years, gently in his arms, and, seizing the younger Kingsley, hastened to the mountains. Two Indians who were with, him carried off a black girl, about seventeen years old Mr. Slocum's little daughter, aged nine years, caught up her brother Joseph (my informant) two and a half years old, and fled in safety to the fort, where an alarm was given, but the savages were beyond successful pursuit.
About six weeks afterward Mr. Slocum and his father-in-law, Ira Trip, were December 16 shot and scalped by some Indians while foddering cattle near the house. Again the savages escaped with their horrid trophies. Mrs. Slocum, bereft of father, husband, and child, and stripped of all possessions but the house that sheltered her, could not leave the valley, for nine helpless children were yet in her household. She trusted in the God of Elijah, and, if she was not fed by the ravens, she was spared by the vultures. She mourned not for the dead, for they were at rest; but little Frances, her lost darling, where was she? The lamp of hope kept on burning, but years rolled by, and no tidings of the little one came. When peace returned, and friendly intercourse with Canada was established, two of the little captive's brothers started in search of her. They traversed the wilderness to Niagara, offering rewards for her discovery, but all in vain. They returned to Wyoming, convinced that the child was dead. But the mother's heart was still the shrine of hope,
Mrs. Slocum's Presentiments.--A Foundling.--Disappointment.--Singular Discovery of the "lost Sister."
368and she felt assured that Frances was not in the grave. Her soul appeared to commune with that of her child, and she often said, "I know Frances is living." At length the mother's heart was cheered; a woman (for many years had now passed, and Frances, if living, must be a full- grown woman) was found among the Indians, answering the description of the lost one. She only remembered being carried away from the Susquehanna. Mrs. Slocum took her home and cherished her with a mother's tenderness. Yet the mysterious link of sympathy which binds the maternal spirit to its offspring was unfelt, and the bereaved mother was bereaved still. "It may be Frances, but it does not seem so. Yet the woman shall be ever welcome," said Mrs. Slocum. The foundling also felt no filial yearnings, and, both becoming convinced that no consanguinity existed, the orphan returned to her Indian friends. From time to time the hope of the mother would be revived, and journeys were made to distant Indian settlements in search of the lost sister, but in vain. The mother went "down into the grave mourning," and little Frances was almost forgotten. Her brothers had become aged men, and their grandchildren were playing upon the very spot whence she had been taken.
In the summer of 1837, fifty-nine years after her capture, intelligence of Frances was received. Colonel Ewing, an Indian agent and trader, in a letter from Logansport, Indiana, to the editor of the Lancaster Intelligencer, * gave such information that all doubts respecting her identity were removed, and Joseph Slocum, with the sister who carried him to the fort, and yet survived, immediately journeyed to Ohio, where they were joined by their younger brother Isaac. They proceeded to Logansport, where they found Mr. Ewing, and ascertained that the woman spoken of by him lived about twelve miles from the village. She was immediately sent for, and toward evening the next day she came into the town, riding a spirited young horse, accompanied by her two daughters, dressed in full Indian costume, and the husband of one of them. An interpreter was procured (for she could not speak or understand English), and she listened seriously to what her brothers had to say. She answered but little, and at sunset departed for her home, promising to return the next morning. The brothers and sister were quite sure that it was indeed Frances, though in her face nothing but Indian lineaments were seen, her color alone revealing her origin.
True to her appointment, she appeared the following morning, accompanied as before. Mr. Joseph Slocum then mentioned a mark of recognition, which his mother had said would be a sure test. While playing one day with a hammer in a blacksmith's shop, Joseph, then a child two and a half years old, gave Frances a blow upon the middle finger of the left hand, which crushed the bone and deprived the finger of its nail. This test Mr. Slocum had withheld until others should fail. When he mentioned it, the aged woman was greatly agitated, and, while tears filled the furrows of her face, she held out the wounded finger. There was no longer a doubt, and a scene of great interest ensued. Her affections for her
*This letter was dated January 20th, 1835, a year and a half previous, and gave the following account: "There is now living near this place, among the Miami tribe of Indians, an aged white woman, who, a few days ago, told me that she was taken away from her father's house, on or near the Susquehanna River, when she was very young. She says her father's name was Slocum; that he was a Quaker, and wore a large-brimmed hat; that he lived about half a mile from a town where there was a fort. She has two daughters living. Her husband is dead. She is old and feeble, and thinks she shall not live long. These considerations induced her to give the present history of herself, which she never would before, fearing her kindred would come and force her away. She has lived long and happily as an Indian, is very respectable and wealthy, sober and honest. Her name is without reproach." The cause of the delay in the publication of the letter, and of its final appearance and effect, was not a little singular. Mr. Ewing sent it to the postmaster at Lancaster, with a request that he would have it published in a Pennsylvania paper. The postmaster, not acquainted with the writer, concluded that it was a hoax, and cast the letter among other papers, where it remained a year and a half. One day his wife, while engaged in arranging the office, saw the letter, and, having her feelings very much interested, sent it to the editor of the Intelligencer. It so happened that the issue of his paper in which the letter was published contained an important temperance document, and a large number of extra copies were printed for general distribution. One of these was sent to a gentleman in Wyoming, who, having heard the story of the "lost sister," and knowing Mr. Joseph Slocum, put the paper into his hands; and thus, by a series of providential circumstances, a clew to Frances was discovered.
Interview between the "lost Sister" and her white Kindred.--Her Narrative.--Her Condition.--Children and Grandchildren
369kindred, that had slumbered half a century, were aroused, and she made earnest inquiries after her father, mother, brothers, and sisters. Her full heart--full with the cherished secrets of her history--was opened, and the story of her life freely given.
She said the savages (who were Delawares), after taking her to a rocky cave in the mountains, departed for the Indian country. The first night was the unhappiest of her life. She was kindly treated, being carried tenderly in their arms when she was weary. She was adopted in an Indian family, and brought up as their daughter. For years she led a roving life, and loved it. She was taught the use of the bow and arrow, and became expert in all the employments of savage existence. When she was grown to womanhood both her Indian parents died, and she soon afterward married a young chief of the nation, and removed to the Ohio country. She was treated with more respect than the Indian women generally; and so happy was she in her domestic relations, that the chance of being discovered and compelled to return among the whites was the greatest evil that she feared, for she had been taught that they were the implacable enemies of the Indians, whom she loved. Her husband died, and, her people having joined the Miamies, she went with them and married one of that tribe. The last husband was also dead, and she had been a widow many years Children and grandchildren were around her, and her life was passing pleasantly away When she concluded the narrative, she lifted her right hand in a solemn manner, and said, "All this is as true as that there is a Great Spirit in the heavens!" She had entirely forgotten her native language, and was a pagan. To her Christ and the Christian's Sabbath were unknown.
On the day after the seeond interview, the brothers and sister, with the interpreter, rode out to her dwelling. It was a well-built log house, in the midst of cultivation. A large herd of cattle and sixty horses were grazing in the pastures. Every thing betokened plenty and comfort, for she was wealthy, when her wants and her means were compared. Her annuity from government, which she received as one of the Miami tribe, had been saved, and she had about one thousand dollars in specie. Her white friends passed several days very agreeably with her; and subsequently her brother Joseph, with his daughter, the wife of
* This portrait I copied from a painting of life size in the possession of her brother, Mr. Joseph Slocum, of Wilkesbarre. It was painted for him by an artist named Winter, residing at Logansport. Her underdress is scarlet, and the mantle with the large sleeve is black cloth. The Indians gave her the name of Ma-con-a-qua, a Young Bear. The names of her children and grandchildren are as follows: Eldest daughter, Kich-ke- ne-che-quah, Cut Finger; youngest daughter, O-saw-she-quah, Yellow Leaf. Grandchildren: Kin-pe-no-quah, Corn Tassel; Wap-pa-no-se-a, Blue Corn; Kim-on-sa-quah, Young Panther.
A Sabbath in Wyoming.--Visit to Mrs. Myers.--Incidents of her Life.-- Escape of her Father and Brother from Indians.
370the Hon. Ziba Bennet of Wyoming, made her another visit, and bade her a last farewell. She died about four years ago, and was buried with considerable pomp, for she was regarded as a queen among her tribe. *
September 18, 1848 I passed a Sabbath in Wyoming. It was a dull and cheerless day. The mountains were hooded with vapor, and all day a chilly drizzle made the trees weep. But Monday morning dawned clear and warm, and in the course of the day I revisited Forty Fort and the battle-ground, ascended the mountain to Prospect Rock, to obtain another glorious view of the valley, peeped into the black caverns of the coal mines at the foot of the hills, and at noon took shelter from the hot sun in the shaded walks of Toby's Eddy, where Zinzendorf pitched his tent. 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 woes of Wyoming. I found her sitting in an easy chair, peeling apples, and her welcome was as cheerful and 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 that 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," she said; "but," she added, with a pleasant smile, "the fragrance still lingers." She was sixteen years old at the time of the invasion, and was in Forty Fort when it surrendered. Every minute circumstance there she remembered clearly, and her narrative of events was substantially the same as recorded in the last chapter. Her father's house was near the fort, and for a week after the surrender it was spared, while others were plundered and destroyed. Every morning when she arose her first thought was their house, and she would go early to see if it was safe. One morning as she looked she saw the flames burst through the roof, and in an hour it was a heap of embers. She remained two weeks in the valley after the surrender of the fort. The Indians kept her face painted and a white fillet around her head, as a protection against the tomahawks of strange savages, and she was treated very kindly by them. When Colonel Denison and others fled from the valley, she and her family accompanied them. After the savages left the valley, her family returned, and for seventy years she has enjoyed the sweets of peace and domestic happiness. Her maiden name was Bennet, and her family were conspicuous in the events at Wyoming during the Revolution.1 2 She has been many years a widow. One of her sons was high sheriff of Luzerne county, another was a magistrate, and a daughter is the wife of the Rev. Dr. Peck, the editor of the Methodist Episcopal Review, published at the "Book Concern," in New York. She is yet living (November, 1849), at the ripe age of eighty-eight years, honored and beloved by all.
I returned to Wilkesbarre at sunset. The evening was as pleasant as June, September 20. the moonlight scene from the upper piazza of the Phoenix, embracing the quiet-flowing Susquehanna, with its fringe of noble trees; the sparkling of the lights at
* When the Miamies were removed from Indiana, the "lost sister" and her Indian relatives were exempted. The affecting story of her life was laid before Congress, and so eloquently did John Quincy Adams plead her cause, that he drew tears from the eyes of many members. Congress gave her a tract of land a mile square, to be held in perpetuity by her descendants, and there her children and grandchildren still dwell.
** Her brother Solomon was in the battle. In the spring succeeding the invasion, the father of Mrs. Myers, her brother (a lad), and Lebbeus Hammond (one of the two who escaped from Queen Esther at the bloody rock) were captured by a party of Indians while at work in the field, and hurried away to the north. It was evident that they were destined for torture, and, while the Indians were drinking at a spring on the third day of their journey into the wilderness, they concerted a plan for escape. Mr. Bennet, being old, was allowed to travel unbound, but the arms of Hammond and the boy were tied. There were six Indians in the party. At night all were laid down to sleep but Mr. Bennet and an Indian. The former brought in dry wood for the fire, and kept himself busy for some time. He then sat down by the fire, and, taking up a spear, he rolled it playfully on his thigh. The Indian finally began to nod, and the others were snoring soundly. Watching his opportunity, Bennet thrust the savage through with the spear, cut the cords that bound his son and Hammond, and the three attacked the sleeping savages. Five were killed, the other one escaped. The captives returned home, bringing, as trophies, the scalps of the slain savages.
Revival of Civil War in Wyoming.--Decree of Trenton.--Its Effect. Injustice toward the "Yankees."--Inaction of Congress.
371Kingston, and the dark outline of the Shawnee Mountains, all hallowed by historic associations, was one of great beauty and interest. Let us employ the quiet hour in reminiscences of some stirring events that occurred, within trumpet call of our presence, after the Revolution, for early on the morrow I must leave Wyoming, perhaps forever.
We have considered the civil war that disturbed Wyoming before the Revolution. That great movement absorbed all lesser topics; but as soon as the storm had subsided, and private interests again became paramount, old jealousies and animosities were resuscitated, and struggled into active life. As soon as all fear of the Indians had subsided, Connecticut poured hundreds of immigrants into this paradise of the Susquehanna. The influx was regarded with jealousy by the Pennsylvanians, and it was not long before all the rancor of the Penny- mite and Yankee war was reproduced.
The Articles of Confederation, under which the general government of the United States was carried on, having made provision for the adjustment of difficulties that might arise between states, and Connecticut insisting upon the maintenance of its jurisdiction over Wyoming, Pennsylvania applied to Congress to appoint a commission to hear the claimants by representatives, and to determine the question in dispute. The commissioners met at Trenton, in New Jersey, toward the close of 1782, and, after a session of five weeks, decided, unanimously, that Connecticut had no right to the land in controversy, and that the jurisdiction and preemption of all lands belonged to Pennsylvania. The people of Wyoming appeared to be well satisfied with the decision, for, considering it a question of jurisdiction only, they deemed it a matter of little moment whether they rendered allegiance to Connecticut or Pennsylvania. The Pennsylvanians, however, did not so construe the decision, but contended not only for jurisdiction, but for the soil, and steps were immediately taken for a sweeping ejectment of the Connecticut settlers. In March ensuing, two companies were sent to garrison the fort at Wilkesbarre, under the pretext of affording protection to the people; and the name of the fort was changed to Dickinson, in honor of the President of the Council of the State. Pennsylvania had already appointed three commissioners to repair to Wyoming, to inquire into the state of affairs, and report proper measures to be adopted toward the settlers. Their report proposed an entire surrender, on the part of the Wyoming people, of their tenures, and all claim to the soil then in their possession, with their improvements; in lieu of which they were to receive an indefinite compensation, at the option of their oppressors, in the wild lands of some unknown region. It was a most unjust and tyrannical measure, for the right to the soil had been purchased, not only with money, but with the dreadful sufferings of those about to be driven away. This report of the commissioners, and the quartering of troops in the valley, now that the war was ended, and the spirit of tyrannical domination that characterized the soldiers, greatly exasperated the people, and they were upon the verge of open insurrection for several months.
Early in the autumn two special justices of the peace were appointed, who, in concert with the military, formed a tribunal for the adjudication of all questions arising under the civil law. The real object of constituting this tribunal, sustained by military force, was obvious; it was to dispossess the Connecticut people of their farms. The tribunal became an instrument of cruelty and oppression, and a disgrace to the character of civilization. The next year, according to Chapman, "the people were not only subject to insult, but their crops were destroyed in their fields, their cattle were seized and driven away, and 1783 in some instances their houses were destroyed by fire and the females rendered victims of licentiousness." But why this rigorous treatment? "It was," says Pickering, "not only to strip the people of their possessions, but, by wearying them of their 'promised land,' drive them from the valley." Although the inhabitants were greatly excited, they loved peace and order, and appealed to the Legislature of Pennsylvania for justice. Their appeal was unnoticed, and they sent a memorial to Congress. That body resolved (a) that a a January 23, 1784 committee of the states should hear both parties on the first Monday in June following; but neither Congress nor a committee of the states were in session at the time designated, and the people were left without redress.
Great Deluge in Wyoming.--Danger and Distress of the Inhabitants.-- Reappearance of the Soldiers.--Renewal of Hostilities.
372In the mean while a terrible scourge swept over the valley. The winter had been intensely cold; snow fell to a great depth, and the Susquehanna was bridged by ice of uncommon thickness. The mountains, covered with forests, treasured up vast beds of snow among their rocks and in their deep ravines, from the action of the sun. In March, a warm rain fell for nearly three days in succession. The snow melted, and every mountain rivulet became a sweeping torrent, pouring its volume into the Susquehanna. The ice in the river was broken up, and the huge masses, borne upon the flood, obstructed by trees, formed immense dams, spreading the waters of the swollen river over the plains. At length the narrow Nanticoke pass at the lower end of the valley became blocked with the ice, and the water, flowing back, submerged the river flats, and filled all the lower intervales. Houses and barns were uplifted on the bosom of the waters. The people fled to the higher points in the valley, some to the mountains. For several hours the waters continued to rise, until suddenly a dam in the mountain gorge, at the upper end of the valley, gave way, and down came the flood with fearful strength. All the ice barriers in the valley were broken up, and the ponderous masses of ice, mingled with floating houses, barns, fences, drowned cattle and sheep, stacks of hay, furniture, and agricultural implements, were scattered over the plains, * or hurried forward to the broader expanse of the river below. It was a scene of fearful grandeur, and to the poor settlers, shivering in the mountains, or huddled upon the little hills in the midst of the roaring floods, the star of hope seemed forever set. The present was utter desolation--the future would unveil injustice and oppression.
As soon as the floods subsided the inhabitants returned, and with them came the soldiers, who snatched from them nearly all of the little food that had been saved, for they were "quartered upon the people." Their rapacity and oppression were greater than ever, and the settlers, anxious to retrieve their farms from the ruin of the flood, were not allowed to work in peace, but were tormented by them continually. At length the people resolved to oppose their oppressors by force, and armed for the purpose. The magistracy, indignant at their presumption, sent out the soldiers to disarm them; and in the process one hundred and fifty families, many of whom had lost portions of their household in the battle of Wyoming, were turned out of their newly-constructed dwellings, and compelled to fly on foot through the wilderness to the Delaware, a distance of eighty miles. Houses were burned, and other atrocities were committed. Ashamed of such conduct, the Legislature of Pennsylvania (which had refused to vote supplies to the sufferers by the flood), when the naked facts were known, endeavored to heal the wounds which, under its sanction, had been inflicted, and, in a measure, to wipe out the stain that rested upon the state authorities. The troops were discharged, except a small guard left at Fort Dickinson, and a proclamation was issued, inviting the people who had been driven away to return. Some of them did so, but the valley was allowed but a short season of repose.
So many of the discharged soldiers joined the guard at the Wilkesbarre Fort, that the people, alarmed, garrisoned Forty Fort. A party of them, having occasion to visit their July 20, 1784 grain-fields below, were fired upon by a detachment of thirty from the other fort, and two promising young men were killed. The people resolved on retaliation, and about midnight marched to Wilkesbarre Fort, to take the garrison by surprise. The latter, informed of the movement, were prepared to receive them, and the settlers returned to Forty Fort with a stock of provisions. On the 27th, the people, led by Colonel John Franklin, a native of Connecticut, invested the Wilkesbarre Fort, and made a formal summons for surrender. Two hours were allowed the besieged for an answer. Before one hour had elapsed information was received that a considerable re-enforcement for the garrison was approaching. The siege was raised, and the besiegers returned to Forty Fort. It was a false alarm; the strangers, who were supposed to be the pioneers of a large number who were approaching,
* It is said that so huge were many of the masses of ice that were lodged in different portions of the valley, that it was the last of July before they were melted away.
Armstrong's Expedition.--Stratagem.--Change in Publie Sentiment--The Censors.--Appeal for Relief.
a September 17. 373were a committee appointed by the state council to proceed to Wyoming and disarm both parties. A conference was held, and such was the state of feeling that neither party would listen to the commissioners.
Stronger measures were now deemed necessary, and Colonel John Armstrong was sent with a considerable force to establish order in the valley. From Easton he sent forward a detachment, which was captured among the mountains on its way to Wyoming, by a party of Connecticut people. Armstrong pushed forward, and on the 4th of August 2, 1784
August reached Wyoming, where his whole force numbered about four hundred men, including the garrison in Wilkesbarre or Dickinson Fort. He found Forty Fort too strong for successful attack, and resorted to stratagem. He professed pacific intentions, and proposed to the people of all parties to deliver up their arms at Fort Dickinson, and there reclaim any property which they might identify as their own. Numbers of the Connecticut people believed him sincere, went to the fort, delivered up their arms, and were captured. Forty of them were sent to the prison at Sunbury, and nearly as many to Easton. The jailer of the latter place was knocked down by a young man named Inman, and the whole party escaped. (a) They returned to the valley in company with about forty Vermonters, and, finding Armstrong and the few men left with him (for a large portion of his men had been discharged when the prisoners were sent to jail) harvesting the crops, they attacked them and drove them into Fort Dickinson. Forty Fort was again garrisoned by the people, and a plan was arranged for recovering the arms which they had surrendered. A blockhouse in which they were stored was attacked, and the arms recovered. Two men in the block-house were mortally wounded.
On hearing of this latter event, the executive council sent another expedition to Wyoming, under Armstrong, who was at the same time promoted to the office of adjutant general of the state. But the sympathies of the people of Pennsylvania began to be enlisted in favor of the Wyoming settlers, and they were regarded as a persecuted party. President Dickinson also remonstrated with the Council and General Assembly, but to no purpose. * It so happened that about this time the Board of Censors held their septennial meeting. They called upon the Assembly for papers relative to Wyoming. The Assembly refused acquiescence. A mandamus was issued, but the Assembly treated it with contempt. Thus treated, and viewing affairs justly, the Censors openly espoused the cause of the Connecticut people, condemned all of the military proceedings, and passed a vote of censure upon the government of the state. This strengthened the hands and hearts of the Wyoming people. They defied Armstrong and his troops; and as winter was approaching, food scarce, and not a recruit could be obtained, that officer discharged the garrison and returned to Philadelphia Though relieved of the presence of the military, the condition of the settlers was indeed deplorable. What the spring flood had spared was small, and the presence of the troops had prevented sowing and reaping. They appealed to Congress and to Connecticut for aid, ** but they received little more than the cold charity of words--"Be ye clothed, and be ye fed"--without contributing to their necessities. The last military expedition against Wyoming had been accomplished, yet the question of possession was unsettled, and they had but little heart to improve their lands, not knowing how soon other efforts might be made to dispossess them. The population, however, increased rapidly, and for two years quiet prevailed
* Pennsylvania, under its first independent state Constitution, had no officer bearing the title of governor. The government of the commonwealth was vested in a House of Representatives, a president, and council. There was also a Board of Censors, elected by the people, who were to meet once in seven years, to inquire whether the Constitution had, in the mean while, been violated, and to transact other general supervisory business, such as trying impeachments, recommending the repeal of unwholesome laws, &c.
** In their appeal to the Connecticut Assembly they set forth that their "numbers were reduced to about two thousand souls, most of whom were women and children, driven, in many cases, from their proper habitations, and living in huts of bark in the woods, without provisions for the approaching winter, while the Pennsylvania troops and land claimants were in possession of their houses and farms, and wasting and destroying their cattle and subsistence."
Luzerne.--Timothy Pickering in Wyoming.--Organization of the County.-- Memoir of Pickering
1786 in 374Wyoming. On the petition of the people, the district of Wyoming and vicinity were formed into a new county, which they named Luzerne. *
About this time Colonel Timothy Pickering, ** of Massachusetts, but then a resident of Pennsylvania, visited Wyoming, and made himself thoroughly acquainted with the affairs of the valley. He became convinced that the settlers were satisfied with the political system of the state, and were ready to become obedient citizens of the commonwealth if they could be quieted in the possession of their farms. These views he communicated to Dr. Rush and other eminent men in Philadelphia, who, anxious to have an amicable adjustment of the difficulties, proposed to Mr. Pickering to accept of the five principal county offices, and remove to Wyoming; for he, being a New England man, would doubtless exercise great influence over the people. He accepted the proposition and went to Wyoming, hearing to the Connecticut people the full assurance that the Pennsylvania Legislature would pass a law quieting them in their possessions.
Clothed with the necessary power, Colonel Pickering proceeded to hold elections and to organize the county. He succeeded in persuading the people to memorialize the Legislature for a compromise law, the chief provisions of which should be, that, in case the
* So called in honor of the Chevalier de Luzerne, the distinguished ambassador from France to the United States during the latter years of the Revolution.
** Timothy Pickering was born in Salem, Massachusetts, on the 17th of July, 1745. He entered Harvard University at the age of fourteen years, and received collegiate honors in 1763. He was elected register of deeds in the county of Essex; and before the Revolution he was a colonel of the Essex militia, and acquired a thorough knowledge of military tactics. When the town meeting was held at Salem in 1774, and an address voted to General Gage on the subject of the Boston Port Bill, Colonel Pickering was appointed to write the address and deliver it in person to the governor. For him is claimed the distinction of conducting the first resistance, in arms, to the power of the mother country. On Sunday, the 26th of February, 1775, an express arrived at Salem from Marblehead with the intelligence that British troops were landing from a transport, with the intention of marching through Salem to seize some military stores in the interior. The people were dismissed from their churches, and, led by Colonel Pickering, they opposed the progress of the British at a draw- bridge. A compromise was effected, the British were compelled to march back to Marblehead, and bloodshed was avoided. * When he heard of the battle of Lexington, Colonel Pickering marched, with his regiment, to intercept the enemy. In 1775 he was appointed a judge of the Court of Common Pleas for Essex. In the fall of 1776, with seven hundred Essex men, he performed duty under Washington, and was with the chief in his retreat across the Jerseys. He was engaged in the battles of Brandywine and Germantown, holding the office and rank of adjutant general. Congress appointed him a member of the Board of War with Gates and Mifflin; and in 1780 he succeeded General Green as quartermaster general. At the close of the war he fixed his residence in Philadelphia, soon after which he was deputed to attempt the settlement of the troubles in Wyoming. He was a member of the convention called to revise the Constitution of Pennsylvania in 1790. Washington appointed him postmaster general in 1791, which office he held nearly four years, when, on the resignation of General Knox, he was appointed Secretary of War. In 1795 Washington made him his Secretary of State, which position he held until 1800, when he was removed by President Adams on political grounds. He was poor on leaving office, and, building a log house for his family upon some wild land that he owned in Pennsylvania, he commenced the arduous duties of clearing it for cultivation. Through the liberality of his friends, he was induced to return to his native state, out of debt, and a comfortable living in prospect. He was a United States senator in 1803, and again in 1805. He was a member of the Board of War in Massachusetts in 1812, and in 1814 was elected a member of the United States House of Representatives. He retired from public life in 1817, and died in Salem on the 29th of January, 1829, aged eighty-four years.
* Of this exploit, Trumbull, in his M'Fingal, wrote: "Through Salem straight, without delay, The bold battalion took its way; March'd o'er a bridge, in open sight Of several Yankees arm'd for fight; Then, without loss of time or men, Veer'd round for Boston back again, And found so well their projects thrive, That every soul got back alive!"
New Difficulties in Wyoming.--John Franklin.--Arrest of Franklin.--Ethan Allen.
1787. 375commonwealth would grant them the seventeen townships * which had been laid out, and on which settlements had been commenced previous to the decree of Trenton, they would, on their part, relinquish all their claims to any other lands within the limits of the Susquehanna purchase. The law was enacted, but new difficulties arose. Many of the best lands in these townships had been granted by the government of Pennsylvania to its own citizens, in the face of the claims of the Connecticut people. These proprietors must be satisfied.
Commissioners were accordingly appointed, under the law, to go to Wyoming to examine and adjust claims on both sides. ** They met in May, arranged the preliminaries, and adjourned until August. The law satisfied those within the seventeen townships, but the Connecticut people had extended settlements beyond these limits, and these, excluded from the benefits of the law, were much dissatisfied. It was also said that, pending the negotiations, the Susquehanna Company had been using great exertions to increase the number of settlers in the unincluded districts, and Colonel Pickering positively asserted that gratuitous offers of land were made to such as would come armed, "to man their rights." *** The most active man in this alleged movement was John Franklin, whose great popularity enabled him to stir up a violent commotion among the "out-siders"--so violent that the commissioners were obliged to flee from the valley for personal safety. Chief-justice M'Kean issued a warrant for the arrest of Franklin, on the charge of high treason. But how should they catch him? They could not trust the proper officer, the sheriff of Luzerne county, who was living in the midst of the insurgents, as they were called. Four strong, bold men, two of whom had served in the Revolutionary army, were selected for the purpose, and they repaired to Wyoming. ****
Franklin was then thirty-five miles distant, exciting the people to armed resistance. Preparations were made for his safe-conduct to Philadelphia, and, on his return, he was arrested at the "Red House," near the river. It was with great difficulty that he was secured, and, as the people were assembling for his rescue, he would doubtless have escaped, had not Colonel Pickering interfered. Observing the commotion from the window of his house, he sallied out with his pistols, and, presenting one to the breast of Franklin, kept him quiet while he was securely bound to a horse. Franklin was carried to Philadelphia and cast into prison.
The interference of Colonel Pickering greatly exasperated the people, and retaliatory measures were immediately adopted. He was informed of the fact that a party was about to seize him,
* These townships were Salem, Newport, Hanover, Wilkesbarre, Pittston, Westmoreland, Putnam, Braintree, Springfield, Claverack, Ulster, Exeter, Kingston, Plymouth, Bedford, Huntington, and Providence. These towns were represented as nearly square as circumstances would permit, and to be about five miles on a side, and severally divided into lots of three hundred acres eaeh. Some of these lots were set apart as glebes, some for schools, and others for various town purposes.
** The commissioners were Timothy Pickering, William Montgomery, and Stephen Balliott.
***About this time "no little sensation was produced in the valley," says Minor, "by the appearance of the far-famed General Ethan Allen, from Vermont, arrayed in cocked hat and regimentals. The purpose of his visit was as well understood by Pickering as by Franklin and his associates. A grant of several thousand acres was made to him by the Susquehanna Company. How many men he was pledged to lead from the Green Mountains we have no means of ascertaining; but it was not doubted that his object was to re-connoiter, and concert measures for early and decisive action."
**** Three of these were Captain Lawrence Erbe, Captain Brady, and Lieutenant M'Cormick. The other name is not known.
the river, and about seventy-five rods below the bridge. It is the place where John Franklin was arrested. On his return from a political tour down the valley, he came up by the way of Hanover to Wilkesbarre. While standing near the ferry, an acquaintance came up to him and said, "A friend at the Red House wishes to speak to you." Franklin walked to the house, where a person caught him from behind, and attempted to pinion his hands. He was a powerful man. and shook off his captors; but, a noose being thrown over his head, he was secured. They then attempted to get him on horseback, when he cried out, "Help, help! William Slocum! where is William Slocum?" and, drawing his pistols, discharged one, but without effect. He was felled by a blow, and laid almost senseless. It was seeding time, and nearly all the men were in the fields. But the Yankee blood of Mrs. Slocum (the mother of the "lost sister") was up, and, seizing a gun, she ran to the door, exclaiming, "William! Who will call William? Is there no man here? Will nobody rescue him?"--Miner. Colonel Pickering's dwelling was near the "Red House." It is still standing, but so modernized what its original character is lost.
Pickering's Escape to Philadelphia.--His Return. Abduction and Treatment--Wyoming quieted.--Departure from Wyoming.
376and he fled to the mountains, whence he made his way to Philadelphia. The partisans of Franklin now became alarmed. They acknowledged their offense to the council, and prayed for pardon. Under these circumstances, Pickering thought it safe for him to return to his family, particularly as the very people whose acts had driven him away had chosen him a delegate to the General Assembly during his exile! He returned, but found many of the people still much exasperated against him, and he was often menaced. Finally, one night in June, fifteen ruffians, with painted faces, burst open the door of the room where 1778 himself and wife were sleeping, bound him with cords, and in the darkness of the night carried him up the valley. For twenty days he was kept by them in the forest, and subjected to ill treatment in various forms. Sometimes they threatened him with death; then he was manacled and chained, and in this way the miscreants tormented him, and tried to wring from him a letter to the executive council recommending the discharge of Franklin. When this requirement was first proposed, and his own release promised on his compliance, Pickering promptly replied, "The executive council better understand their duty than to discharge a traitor to procure the release of an innocent man." This determined tone and manner he preserved throughout. They finally released him, and he found his way back to Wilkesbarre, where his death was considered a matter of certainty. Haggard and unshaven, his wife regarded him with consternation, and his children fled from him affrighted.
This was the last scene in the drama of violence so long enacted in Wyoming. Franklin was liberated on bail, and finally discharged; and he and Pickering often met as friends in public life afterward. The disputes about land titles and possessions in Wyoming remained unsettled for nearly fifteen years, while the population rapidly increased. Ultimately the claims were all quieted by law, and for the last forty years the sweet vale of Wyoming has presented a beautiful picture of repose and prosperity. * We will close the record and retire, for the moon has gone down behind the western hills, and chilly vapors are coming up from the bosom of the river.
September 20, 1848 I left Wilkesbarre on the mail-coach early on Tuesday morning, for the Lackawanna Valley and the coal regions of Luzerne. The whole of Wyoming was wrapped in a dense fog, and from the driver's box, where I had secured a seat, it was with difficulty that we could observe objects beyond the leaders. The coveted pleasure of another view of the beautiful scenery as we passed along the uplands was denied; but when we arrived at Pittston, the cool breeze that came through the mountain gateway of the Susquehanna, and from the valley of the Lackawanna, swept away the vapor, and revealed the rich plains at the head of the valley, the majestic curve of the river where it receives its tributary, and the grandeur of its rocky margins toward the north. At the junction of the rivers we turned eastward, and in a few moments Wyoming and all its attractions were left behind, and scenery and associations of a far different cast were around us.
The Lackawanna River flows in a deep bed, and its valley, wider than Wyoming, is very rough and hilly, but thickly strewn with fertile spots. Iron and anthracite every where abound; and the latter is so near the surface in many places, that the farmers in autumn quarry out their winter's stock of fuel upon their own plantations with very little labor. Several iron manufactories are seated upon the river between its mouth and Carbondale, and little villages, brought forth and fostered by these industrial establishments, enliven the otherwise ungenial features of the route. At one of these, called Hyde Park, we lunched and changed horses, receiving an addition to our company in the person of a tall, cadaverous Yankee lumberman, who, with a huge musk-melon and jack-knife in his hand, took a seat
* Chapman. Gordon, Miner, Stone.
A Yankee Lumberman.--Carbondale.--The Coal Mines.--Fatal Accident.-- Heroic Benevolence of Mr. Bryden.
377beside me on the driver's box. Having satisfied his own appetite with the melon, he generously handed the small remainder to the driver and myself; and the moment his jaws ceased mastication, his tongue began to wag like a "mill-tail." He discoursed fluently, if not wisely, upon the general demerits of fever and ague, whose subject he had been for nearly a year, and upon the particular productiveness of "Varmount."
"It's a garden of flowers," he said, while York state, and all 'tother side on't, is wild land, raisin' nothin' but snakes and agers."
"Compared to New England, our horses are colts,
Our oxen are goats, and a sheep but a lamb;
The people poor blockheads and pitiful dolts--
Mere Hottentot children, contrasted with them."
He was a capital specimen of the genus "brag," refined by superb Munchausen polish. His voice was a shrill falsetto, and, every word being audible to the passengers, we soon had a laughing chorus within the coach that awoke the echoes of the hills.
Approaching Carbondale, the road gently ascends a mountain ridge until all traces of cultivation disappear, and pines and cedars compose the forest. From this rugged height it winds along the steep acclivities; and the mining village, in the bosom of a deep, rocky intervale, may be seen below, at a distance of more than a mile. It was about two o'clock when we arrived at Carbondale. Having two hours leisure before the departure of the mail-coach for Honesdale and the Delaware, I applied to Mr. James Clarkson, the chief surveyor at the mines, for permission to enter one of them. It was cordially granted, and, in company with his assistant, Mr. Alexander Bryden, as guide, I entered the one wherein an appalling circumstance, resulting in the death of several miners, occurred on the morning of the 12th of January, 1846. Indications of danger were observed several months previously in one of the chambers. The pillars of coal and pine logs that supported the roof seemed to be crushing beneath the superincumbent weight, and the chamber was abandoned. Other portions of the mine appeared to be safe, although in some cases the roof of slate was cracked. Suddenly, at about eight o'clock on the morning in question, nearly sixty acres of the hill covering the mines sunk about two feet, crushing every thing beneath it, and producing a powerful concussion. The fall was accompanied by a sound similar to distant thunder, and a shock which was perceptible throughout the village. Fortunately, a large portion of the workmen were at breakfast. Under or beyond the fallen body were about sixty men. The intelligence of the disaster rapidly spread, and general alarm pervaded the town. There were few who did not fear that some relative or friend was buried in the mine. The scene was exceedingly painful, and not easily described. There were daughters, wives, and mothers at the mouth of the mine, in an agony of expectation that a loved one was lost, and for a while it was difficult to enter to attempt a rescue of those within. The superintendents and others proceeded immediately, and at the risk of their own lives, to examine the bounds of the destruction. It was soon perceived that some, whose station must be within the limits of the fall, were probably killed.
Beyond the point where the roof was secure, some thirty or more of the men had escaped immediate death, but their situation was truly horrible, having lost their lights, the roof still cracking and breaking around them, and scarcely a hope left of escape from the spot. Mr. Bryden, with courage sustained by love for his fellow-men, boldly entered the mine, and endeavored to reach the point where the men were imprisoned. He succeeded, after much labor, and released them. Informed that a man who had met with a serious accident had been left in another chamber, Mr. Bryden directed his steps thitherward. He found the wounded man, and carried him upon his back to his companions. Within five minutes after Mr. Bryden left the chamber with his burden of life, the passage he had traversed was entirely closed by the crushed pillars of coal.
Among those known to have been at about the center of the fall a short time before the occurrence, was a young Scotchman named Hosea, another of the superintendents. Diligent search was made for him on that and the succeeding day without success. On the third day, while a party were in search of him, he emerged from the mines unaided, having
Escape of Mr. Hosea.--Effects of the Concussion. Entrance and Exploration of the Mine.--Interior Appearance
378dug his way out through fallen masses with his hands! The excitement relative to him had been extreme, and his sudden appearance, under the circumstances, produced great joy. He had been recently married. His young bride, having lost all hope of his recovery alive, was in a store purchasing mourning materials, when he was carried by homeward in a sleigh. The people flocked to his house, and saluted him as one risen from the dead.
The hours he had spent entangled in the passages of the mines were horrible indeed. At one time he saw the glimmer of lights. He tried to make himself heard by the party carrying them, but was unsuccessful. He ran toward them, but, stumbling against a car, he fell senseless. When he revived, the lights had disappeared, and all was intense gloom. He scrambled over broken rocks and through narrow apertures', and finally reached one of the rail-roads and made his way out, having been forty- eight hours laboring, without food or drink, in removing the fallen masses. Fourteen perished by the disaster; the bodies of nine have been recovered, the remainder are still in the chambers--to them the "chambers of death." The air was expelled from the mine, when the superincumbent mass settled, with great force.
A train of empty cars, drawn by a horse driven by a boy, was just entering when the event occurred. The boy and horse were instantly killed, and the train was shattered in pieces. The horse appeared to have been rolled over several times by the blast, and pieces of the harness were found thirty feet from his body.
It was into this mine, now considered perfectly safe, that Mr. Bryden conducted me. Seated upon a square block of wood on the bottom of one of a train of mine cars, in the attitude of a toad, each with a torch in his hand, we entered an aperture at the base of the mountain, by the side of the canal. The cars (five in a train), running upon iron rails, and drawn by a horse, are three feet long and two feet wide at top, tapering to the bottom. Thus boxed up, and our heads bowed in meek submission to the menaces of the low roof, of the passage, we penetrated the mountain nearly half a mile, when we came to an inclined plane. There the horse that took us in was attached to a loaded train that had just descended, and went back to the entrance. The darkness was so profound, that objects could be seen by the light of our torches only a few feet from us, and on all sides were the black walls of anthracite, glistening in some places with water that trickled through the crevices. At the foot of the inclined plane we were one hundred and seventy feet beneath the surface of the earth. Up the rough steep, seven hundred and fifty feet, we clambered on foot, and, when half way to the summit, we saw the cables moving and heard the rumble of a descending train. * The passage is so narrow that there is very little space on each side of the cars. We were, therefore, obliged, for our safety, to seek out one of the slippery ledges of anthracite wide enough to sustain us, and, while thus "laid upon a shelf," the vehicles, with their burden, thundered by.
A little beyond the inclined plane is the region of the fall. Here the roof is lower than in other parts. Crushed timbers and pulverized anthracite, the remains of the supporters of the chambers, are seen for some distance; and the filled-up avenues that led to other chambers, where some of the bodies remain buried, were pointed out to me. We at length reached the chambers where men were working, each with a lamp suspended by a hook from the front of his cap. So intense was the darkness, that, when a little distance from a workman, nothing of him could be seen but his head and shoulders below the lamp. The coal is quarried by blasting with powder; and the sulphurous vapor that filled the vaults, and the dull lights, with hideous-looking heads, apparently trunkless, beneath them, moving in the gloom, gave imagination free license to
* There is a double track upon the inclined plane, and, by means of cables and pulleys, the loaded train hauls up the empty one by force of gravity. From the main entrance many avenues are seen that extended to other chambers now exhausted. As fast as these avenues become useless, the rails are taken up and they are filled with the slate or other impurities of the mines.
Fossils--. Ascent from the Mine.--Night Ride.--A Grumbler.--Change in the Coal Region.
379draw a picture of the palace of Pluto. Added to the sight was the feeling of awe which the apparent dangers of the place engendered, as the recollection of the tragedy just recorded was kept alive by the identification of localities connected with the event, by my guide.
After collecting a few fossils, * we sought the "wind entrance," and, ascending a flight of steps about twenty-five feet, we stood high upon the mountain overlooking Carbondale, three quarters of a mile from the place of our entrance. Notwithstanding the air is comparatively pure within, except in the working chambers at the time of blasting, I breathed much freer when standing in the sunlight, and removed from all danger. Hastening down the mountain to the canal, I washed my fossils and hurried to the stage-office in the village, where I arrived just in time to hear the provoking rattle of the coach-wheels half a mile distant, on the road to Honesdale, leaving me to decide the question whether to remain over a day, or, departing at nine in the evening, ride all night. I chose the latter alternative, and passed the remainder of the afternoon among the mines and miners.
I left Carbondale at nine in the evening, and arrived at Cherry Hill, thirteen miles distant, at one in the morning. The road was exceedingly rough and the coach rickety. I had but a single fellow-passenger, and he was as deaf as a post. He was a grumbler of the first water, and his loud thoughts so amused me that I had no inclination to sleep. At Cherry Hill we awaited the coach from Honesdale. Informed that its arrival would be two hours later, we took beds; but the first dream had scarcely begun, when the wooden voice
* The coal is covered by a layer of slate, so even on its under surface that the roofs of the passages, when the coal has been removed, are quite smooth and flat. Upon this flat surface are impressions of stalks and leaves of plants of immense size, intermingled with those of the fern, of the size which now grow on the borders of marshes. Some of these fossil stalks found between the slate and the coal measure from ten to sixteens inches across (for they are all flattened, as if by pressure), and were evidently at least thirty feet long. They lie across each other in every direction, and in all cases the stalks are flattened. Many theories have been conceived to account for the origin of the coal and of the appearance of these fossils. The most plausible seems to be that the bed of coal was once a vast bed of peat, over whieh, in ages past, grew these mammoth ferns; that the slate that covers the upper stratum of coal was thrown up, in a semi-fluid state, from the bowels of the earth by volcanic action, and flowed over the fields of peat, easting down the ferns and other vegetables flat beneath the whelming mass, which, in time, became indurated, and was formed into slate. The huge stalks that have been found may have belonged to a species of water-lily that abounded when the mastodon and megatherium browsed in the marshes that now form the coal beds of the Lackawanna Valley.
** The miners, when they branch off from the main shaft or avenue, leave pillars of coal about eighteen feet square, to support the roof or mass above. These huge pillars were crushed by the great weight upon them, in the accident recorded.
* Note.--The change whieh the Delaware and Hudson Canal and Mining Company has wrought in the physical features of this region is wonderful. Twenty years ago the whole country in the vicinity of Carbondale was an uninhabited wilderness; now fertile farms and thriving villages are there. * When Maurice Wurts, of Philadelphia, after spending years in exploring the country between the Lackawanna and the Hudson, presented his plan for the gigantic work now in progress, his friends looked upon him as nearly crazed, and, like Fulton, he was doomed to have hope long deferred. But there were some who comprehended the feasibility of the undertaking, and estimated correctly its golden promises of profit. The work was begun, and in 1829 seven thousand tons of anthracite coal were forwarded to New York. Wonderfully has the business increased. The company now employs between five and six thousand men and boys, over one thousand horses, and nearly nine hundred canal-boats, independent of the vessels at Rondout. Last year (1848) the company forwarded to market four hundred and fifty thousand tons of coal, and its monthly disbursements are about one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. At Carbondale there are nine mines or entrances; and about seven hundred men, chiefly Irish and Welsh, are employed under ground there. The coal is sent from Carbondale to Honesdale, a distance of sixteen miles, in cars upon an inclined plane, and there it is shipped for market upon the Delaware and Hudson Canal, the termination of which is upon the Hudson River, at Rondout, Ulster county.
* Carbondale contained about seven thousand Inhabitants, and Housedale about four thousand.
A Coach Load.--Result of Politeness.--Bad Coach and Driver.--Milford.-- The Sawkill
380of a Dutch hostler broke our slumbers with the cry of "Stage!" We were charged a quarter each for the privilege of warming a cold bed, which made the deaf grumbler swear like a pirate. A young woman, unused to crowds, occupied a place by the side of the driver, and I was obliged to shrink into proper dimensions to share a seat within, with two elderly women who were by no means diminutive. "I can't be squeezed, I can't be squeezed!" cried one of them, as I opened the coach-door to get in. My size was magnified in the darkness to very improper dimensions, but the lady was pacified by a solemn assurance that what she saw was more than half overcoat. Thus packed, we were trundled over one of the roughest roads in Pike county, and at six o'clock were set down at Decker's, among the Lackawanna Mountains, where we breakfasted. Before reaching there, rain began to fall, and the delicate young lady, who occupied a seat with the driver for the sake of fresh air, implored shelter within. Of course her petition was granted, but she proved a destroyer of the comfort of two of the passengers. She was a plump Dutch girl, weighing nearly two hundred, and the two old gentlemen, who, in the plenitude of their good will and politeness, had offered her a seat upon their knees before she alighted from above, "worked their passage" down the rough mountain roads, for the horses were allowed a loose rein while the shower lasted. One of the victims, whose obesity was conspicuous, declared that his gallantry could not have extended another rood, and that the announcement of the appearance of Decker's sign-post was as grateful to him as the "land ho!" is to the returning mariner.
At Decker's we changed coaches, horses, and drivers. The former, like the morals of the latter, were very dilapidated. A worse vehicle and more wicked driver than we were in the custody of I never encountered. The rain fell copiously for two hours, and every passenger was subjected to the filthy drippings through the leaky roof of the coach, and the more filthy drippings of profanity and low slang from the lips of the driver, who was within speaking distance of a companion upon another stage.
Toward noon the clouds broke, and I escaped from my damp prison to the driver's box just as we reached the brow of the loftiest hill over which the road passes before descending to the Delaware Valley. Twenty miles eastward loomed up the dark range of the Shawangunk Mountains; on our right, far below, sparkled a beautiful bell-shaped lake fringed with evergreens, and, as far as the eye could reach, wooded hills stood "peeping over each others shoulders." The scenery was as wild and more diversified than that of the Pocono. Suddenly we came upon the brow of the mountain that overlooks the beautiful plain of Milford, on the Delaware, and in a few minutes we were rattling through the pretty village. Milford is remarkable for the picturesque beauty of its own location and surrounding country, and for the size of one of its publicans, who died in 1841. * Near it are the beautiful falls of the Sawkill, where,
"Swift as an arrow from the bow,
Headlong the torrent leaps,
Then tumbling round in dazzling snow
And dizzy whirls it sweeps.
.
Then shooting through the narrow aisle
Of this sublime cathedral pile,
Amid its vastness, dark and grim,
It peals its everlasting hymn."
Street.
* Milford has been settled about fifty years. The chief business of the place is the lumber trade. It is quite a large village, and, since 1814, has been the county seat of Pike. In 1800 there were but two houses and a blacksmith's shop upon its site. The plain was then covered with pines, hemlocks, and bushes. The wadding of a hunter's gun set the brush on fire, and the plain was cleared for a great distance. The buildings, however, remained untouched. Some wag published an account of the fire, and said that it had "ravaged the town of Milford, and had left but two houses and a blacksmith's shop standing!" The publican referred to was a tavern-keeper named Lewis Cornelius, whose dimensions were nearly as great as those of the famous Daniel Lambert. His height was six feet; in circumference at the waist, six feet two and a half inches; circumference below the waist, eight feet two inches; circumference of arm above the elbow, two feet two inches; below the elbow, one foot nine inches; at the wrist, one foot three inches; of the thigh, four feet three inches; of the calf of the leg, two feet seven inches; weight, six hundred and forty-five and a half pounds, without any clothes.
Delaware River and Valley.--Port Jervis.--The Neversink Valley.-- Shawangunk Mountains.--Orange and Rockland.
381But the pleasure of a visit thither were denied us by the urgent beck of time. It was after me o'clock, and we must be at Port Jervis, eight miles distant, at three, to enter the ears or the Hudson River, our point of destination.
The road from Milford to Port Jervise * passes along the margin of the Delaware Valley, sometimes beneath steep acclivities that seem ready to topple down. We crossed the river upon a bateau propelled by two strong men with poles, and guided by a rope stretched over the stream, and reached the rail-way station just as the last bell was ringing and a dark cloud began to pour out its contents. In a few minutes we were sweeping along the slopes of the Neversink Valley, and ascending, by a circuitous route, to the lofty passes among the shawangunk Mountains.
The scenery here was indescribably grand. On the right the hills towered far above, and on the left, a thousand feet below, was the fertile valley of the Neversink lying in the shadows of the lofty hills on the west. The table-land upon the summit inclines gently to the eastward; and a little before sunset we passed through the fine grazing lands of Orange, lying between Middletown and Goshen, where the cow-herds furnish the materials for the far-famed Goshen butter. Westward of Middletown we passed near the historic ground of Minisink, and at twilight, descending the rugged slopes of Rockland along the winding course of a mountain stream, we passed by Ramapo and Tappan, places famous in our Revolutionary history. A visit there was reserved for another occasion, and, proceeding to Piermont, on the Hudson, the termination of the rail- road, I embarked for New York, and reached home at nine in the evening.
* Port Jervis was then (1848) the western terminus of travel on the New York and Erie Railroad. It s situated on the eastern side of the Delaware, upon a small triangular plain at the mouth of the Neversink Creek, within the state of New York.
Poughkeepsie.--Origin of its Name.--Condition of the State in 1777.
382