USA > Massachusetts > Our western border : its life, combats, adventures, forays, massacres, captivities, scouts, red chiefs, pioneer women, one hundred years ago, containing the cream of all the rare old border chronicles > Part 45
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"I ask your pardon, sir," answered Brady, confusedly, feeling the rebuke was deserved. "I forgot your cloth, and we borderers fall into a rough way of speaking; but I get so riled up at the memory of the Moravian butchery that I want to talk as strong as I feel."
Mr. Christy bowed gravely, and continued: "Well, whether the Colonel could or could not control his men, it is certain he didn't; but pusillanimously shifted the responsibility on his band by a vote 'whether the Moravian Indians should be taken prisoners to Pittsburgh or put to death,' and requested that all those who were in favor of saving their lives should step out of the line and form a second rank.
*In justice to the memory of Colonel Williamson, I have to say that, although at that time very young, I was personally acquainted with him, and say with confidence he was a brave man, but not cruel. He would meet an enemy in battle and fight like a soldier, but not murder a prisoner .- Dod- dridge's Notes.
From the best evidence before us, Colonel Williamson deserves not the censure belonging to this campaign. He is acknowledged on all hands to have been a brave and meritorious officer, and had he possessed proper command, none can doubt but what the result would have been very different .- De Hass' History of Western Virginia.
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"Would you believe it, Brady, only eighteen out of all that party dared to put themselves on the side of right and justice-just a paltry eighteen. The rest were overawed or demonized, I don't know which. I was shocked! confounded ! speechless with amazement! had talked with a number of the teachers and leading Indians, and was perfectly con- vinced they were good and sincere Christians, ever on the side of peace, and having nothing whatever to do with border raids and savageries.
"I supposed that, having the same proofs, many others were likewise so convinced, but when I saw this sparse little group of protesters, I thought 'twas high time to do my duty if the Colonel wouldn't do his. So I held a brief consultation with our party, and then harangued the whole assemblage, protesting, in the most solemn manner, against such a horrible piece of hypocrisy and outrage. I went over all the circum- stances of the case; showed how we had disarmed and then enticed over these inoffensive Christians; what they had already suffered from Girty and the Ohio tribes, and finished by calling God to witness that we would be innocent of their blood."
"The base, infernal butchers," said Brady. "I hope you put it to them hot and strong."
"I did, indeed, Captain; stronger than they would bear, for, while the better part of them slunk away beyond the sound of my voice, and others winced and uneasily affected to scoff and jeer at my reproofs, the bolder scoundrels gathered about me with scowling faces and menacing gestures; called me a young milksop, a chicken-hearted boy, a black- coated pedagogue, old McMillan's baby darling, and what not.
"I tell you, Brady, I seemed to be looking into the fierce, savage faces of a pack of famished, blood-thirsty wolves; their yellow eyes shot fire; their teeth gnashed like fangs; they glared at me horribly, nervously rubbing their hands together as if they wanted to tear me to pieces. I couldn't believe these were my gay, roystering companions of the day previous. Like tigers, the smell of blood seemed to have completely crazed them, and whetted their appetites for more."
"It's marvelous," here interrupted Brady. "It does seem as if the long Indian wars had actually debased a large number of our frontier people to the savage state. Having lost so many friends and relatives by the reddys, and heard of so many horrid murders and scalpings, they are possessed with an insatiate thirst for blood, and look upon all Indians as wild varmints to be killed and scalped on sight. They are worse than the savages themselves. Well, what next?"*
*The sentiment here expressed by Brady is the same as written by Dr. Joseph Doddridge, an historian of that period, in his Notes on Indian Wars.
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TOUCHING SCENES.
" Oh, our steadfast little band of malcontents barely escaped vio- I nce, and retired to the edge of the woods, protesting in God's name against the diabolical atrocity resolved upon. Meanwhile the assassins -for I can call them by no milder name-debated as to. the mode of death. Some even advised burning the Moravians alive, as they were cooped up in the two cabins. At last it was decided to kill and scalp them wholesale, and then burn their towns and carry off all their horses, skins, &c.
" You may faintly imagine, but I can't hope to describe, the scene that ensued when this terrible news was told the victims. The males soon quieted down into a sort of sullen, stoical indifference, but the tears and wails and shrieks among the women and children were truly heart-rending. They might have moved hearts of stone-not of ada- mant.
" A petition now came up from the poor betrayed innocents that they might have some time to prepare for death. They called God to wit- ness their guiltlessness, but were ready to suffer for His sake, only ask- ing that they might sing and pray together, and make their peace with Him.
"This was grudgingly granted. It was now night. The heavens were overcast. The wind arose, and soughed mournfully through the forest where our little party sat sad and indignant; but above all the noise and bluster of the winds, floated the strong, sweet sounds of pub- lic worship.
" I could scarce believe my own ears, and several of us wended. our way to the cabins, passing the huge fires around which were assembled the main portion of the expedition. Approaching a window, I stepped upon a log, looked in, and beheld one of the most touching scenes man ever saw. The hymns were just over, and now strong, brawny, swarthy-hued men were passing around shaking each other's hands and kissing each other's cheeks. Some faces were bedewed with tears, and some convulsed with agony, but most had on them the joyful, ex- ultant expression of the victory almost won-a prefiguration, as it were, of the coming glory. Now they tenderly asked each other's pardon for offences given or griefs occasioned ; now they kneeled and offered, with uplifted faces-which seemed to brighten with a radiance almost celestial-fervent prayers to God, their Saviour, and then, as one or another would touchingly allude to their wives and children-so near to them and yet so far from them-the whole assemblage would burst out into tears and convulsive sobbings.
" Oh, Brady, 'twas just awful ! I never expect to witness on earth another such moving sight. I never hope to see God's grace and power
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so manifested, or His name so magnified. No heathen curses or boast- ings; no revilings of their cruel, merciless murderers, or calling down upon them of Almighty vengeance. All was love and joy, and resigna- tion to God's will. Some even had the amazing grace to imitate our Saviour, and cry out, 'Father, forgive them; they know not what they do.'
" The scene among the poor women and children was somewhat similar, only infinitely more harrowing and agonizing. Ruthlessly torn from those who should have been their stay and support in these last trying hours, how could their sobs and wails and pitiful cries be pent up ! And how, hearing and seeing all this, and not old enough to have the martyr's faith and joy in death, could tender, innocent chil- dren, who laugh or weep like a capricious April day, be expected to bear up against such an overwhelming woe !
"Excited by a louder and more distressful wail-more like a shriek- than usual, I summoned up courage to take one glance within. Merci- ful Father ! One was enough ! An exemplary believer, Christina by name, from Bethlehem, Pa., had just finished an exhortation for all to stand firm to the death ; that there was no hope left but in a merciful Saviour; and that if those present could not see their husbands or fathers in this world, they soon would in another and better.
"The poor creatures did not seem to realize their awful fate till then, and such a heart-rending wail arose from the whole assemblage as would have moved the dead. I saw fond mothers, with tears streaming down their tawny faces, convulsively embrace their dear little children, and children-some of them scarcely knowing what it all meant-clinging to their parents amid harrowing cries and sobbings ; but, most touching sight of all! a number of little ones of both sexes had quietly fallen asleep, and were lying around, with tearful, passionate, agonized mothers' faces hanging over them.
" Horror-stricken, I almost fell from my position at the window, and rushed off to find Williamson. I implored him to come back with me and gaze upon that dolorous scene. He declined, kindly, but firmly; said he deeply regretted the way matters stood, but was powerless to do anything. 'Twas as much as his life was worth. He had done all he could, but each man had as much authority as himself, and all were stubbornly bent on vengeance.
" I then asked permission to enter the two cabins and mingle with the victims, and help prepare them for the dreadful fate awaiting them. This raised a storm of indignant reproach among the men who, attracted by the discussion, had gathered about. Some of them had imbibed freely from a keg of sacramental wine they had discovered, and were rude and turbulent.
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" I rejoined our little party, and sadly awaited the morning. The 8th of March dawned gloomily. The air was raw and chilly, and gusts of wind and soft snow would at times sweep through the air. Two houses were chosen for the execution, one for the men and the other for the women and children. To these the wanton murderers appropriately gave the name of 'slaughter-houses !' You see those two naked chim- neys? 'Tis all that's left of them; but come, Brady ! let's go nearer, that I may explain what happened next."
DRIVEN INTO TWO SLAUGHTER-HOUSES AND INHUMANLY BUTCHERED.
The twain silently arose from an old canoe which had served as a seat, and almost shudderingly advanced to where the "slaughter-houses" had stood. The moon was now obscured behind a heavy, rapidly-drift- ing cloud. A brisk breeze brought mournful sounds from the encircling forests. They now stood upon the very edge of the cellar where lay the scorched and half-consumed remains of twenty women and thirty- four children.
Nothing there but a heap of charred and blackened ruins ! A rank, fetid, charnel-house odor filled the air and offended the nostrils. A blue smoke was even yet rising from one corner of the crushed and fallen timbers. The scene was weird and uncanny. The gloom and desolation became oppressive. Neither spake. At last Brady whispered :
" For God's sake, Christy, let's get out of this ! It's simply horri- ble ! I'm not easily moved, but what you've told me this night ; this sacrificial stench of burnt flesh, and that pile of still smouldering ruins, shock me deeply. I seem to see the whole awful scene before me, and feel it down to the very marrow of my bones."
" And so I," replied Christy, in low, earnest tones, while tightly clutching Brady's arm. "It's given me the horrors for two months. I saw but a small part of the damnable atrocities, and yet enough to cur- dle my blood, and at night, especially, the hellish saturnalia rise up before me in ghostly procession. I cannot shut them out. They grip and shake me like a hideous nightmare, and yet they do my soul good. ' Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.' But come! you must see the other one ;" and Christy dragged his companion hurriedly for- ward to the cellar, where lay buried amid the charred and smoking debris, the remains of forty-two slaughtered male converts.
This cellar presented about the same dismal and forlorn aspect as did the other. As the two stood gloomily looking down upon the desolate
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ruins, all at once Brady, in his turn, tightly grasped his companion's arm and hoarsely whispered :
" My God, Christy, what's that ! Don't you hear something down there ? Listen !"
" No, I don't," after a pause. "You ain't trying to frighten me, Brady ? I'm not of that_"
" Hist! hist ! there 'tis again ! By Heaven, I tell you there is a' strange sound down there-a sort of grating, grinding, crunching noise. It stopped for a moment, but I heard it just now again. Must be some varmint "-and Brady hunted around by the obscure light, and found a heavy stick of charred wood, which he, with a shout, hurled down into the cellar.
An instant noise and rush were heard from various parts of the ruins, accompanied by short, angry yelps and snarls, and immediately after could be seen leaping up from under the arched timbers and darting off, several gaunt and shaggy forms, which soon disappeared in the adjacent woods.
" Must be Indian dogs left here, and looking for their poor, lost mas- ters," nervously whispered Christy.
" Dogs be hanged," quickly answered Brady; "they're ravenous wolves gone down beneath that pile of burnt stuff to gnaw the bones of the dead. Thought I couldn't be mistaken in those crunching, mum- bling sounds. Now come away, I tell you ! I'll stop here no longer. It's a horrible charnel-house-would as soon breathe the stifling odor of the Catacombs," and Brady led the way from the place with quick, im- patient strides.
They soon left the deserted village behind them; entered the dense, sombre woods; sped along till the camp fires were in full view, and then sat down on a mossy log to rest. Here Brady felt again at home, but nothing was said for some little time. At length, while taking off his skin cap, thridding his thick chestnut curls with his fingers, and wip- ing the thick beads from his brow, Brady smilingly remarked :
" Glad to get out of that graveyard, anyhow ! It's strange, Christy, how the night will affect a strong man. Now I'm no chicken, and am deemed a pretty tough, weather-beaten old hunter. Scarcely know what nerves are in the daytime, and yet many a night in the woods, on a ' painter' or Indian hunt, I've started up and found my head filled with the sickliest kind of fancies thought Indians were on all sides of me. Every dancing, rustling leaf above my head would take strange, fantas- tic shapes in the flickering firelight, and make me as nervous as a girl with the megrims, or as a cat in a strange garret. I'd pish and pshaw, and shut my eyes tight, but not the slightest use. I never could get to
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sleep again without jumping up, giving the fire a turn, taking a pipe of tobacco, and then, maybe, going over several times my 'Now I lay me's,' &c."
" It is odd," laughed Christy. "I have the same experience. Night makes mountains out of mole hills, and it's a capital time for nursing up all one's pet troubles. Great pity that our feelings, and even our faith, should depend on the state of our liver, and on whether we've eaten pork and cabbage, or corn pone and venison for supper. I'll tell you one thing, though, Brady. I don't believe certain ones I could name of Williamson's gang would dare go within a stone's throw of that village by night, and as for gazing down at either one of those cellars, 'twould be worse on them than a regular scalping ; but shall I go on, or wait another time ? "
" Oh, yes, go on! go on! Make a finish of it at once!" said Brady. "I'm daily learning how little better many Christian whites are than wild beasts, and how much worse oftentimes than heathen."
"""But for the grace of God there goes John Bunyan !' said once the 'inspired tinker,' on seeing a drunken, worthless wretch reeling down the street of Bedford, and I suspect," added Christy, " we all have that same tendency of going back to our original wildness which fruit trees are said to possess. But to resume :
"On the morning of the 8th the doomed Christians again commenced their devotions, but were interrupted by one of the executioners bluntly asking if they were not yet ready for death. The reply came in the affirmative ; they had commended their souls to God and were now pre- pared for the sacrifice.
" The cabin in which the males were confined belonged to a cooper, and one of the party-you'd be shocked, Brady, if I called him by name-taking up a cooper's mallet, said : 'How exactly this will an- swer for the business,' and commencing with Abraham, who I learned was a most devoted and exemplary disciple, he felled, as a butcher would so many beeves, no less than fourteen Christians ! He now handed the bloody mallet to another miscreant, with the remark : 'My arm fails me ! Go on in the same way ! I think I've done pretty well !' and so the horrid, hellish work went on till over forty were thus dropped, scalped and hacked to pieces.
" In the other house, Judith, an aged and remarkably pious and gentle widow, was the first victim. Christina, before mentioned, fell on her knees and begged for life. In vain ! In vain ! The tigers had again tasted blood. In both houses men, women and children were bound by ropes in couples, and were thus 'led like lambs to the slaughter.' Most all of them, I heard-for I only saw that part of the butchery which I
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was compelled to witness-marched cheerfully, and some smilingly, to meet their death.
" And in this atrocious and inhuman manner," solemnly continued Christy, " died, in all, over ninety Christian Indians, and may God have had mercy on their souls, and given them, in Heaven, that joy and peace which His enemies prevented them from knowing on earth."
" Amen !" added Brady, in his deep, bass tones, "and may His curse and punishment equally follow __ "
"Stop ! stop ! my hasty friend. 'Vengeance is mine : I will repay, sayeth the Lord.' We can safely rest this matter with Him. 'The mills of the Gods grind slow, but they grind exceeding fine.' Five of the slain were extremely aged and accomplished native teachers-two of them originally converts to Brainard, in New Jersey, and one, the famous fighting chief, Glickhiccan.
" But the children ! Ah, the tender, innocent children ! whose lov- ing voices of praise had so often ascended from the home, the school and the chapel ; my heart faileth me to describe the shocking and har- rowing scene of their horrid death. Their agonizing cries pierce my ears ; their pitiful, beseeching young faces wring my heart even to this day."
ONE LITTLE BOY SAVED-SLAUGHTER RENEWED AT SMOKY ISLAND.
" My God ! what sickening savagery !" gasped Brady. " It fairly stuns and appalls me! And were none of those precious innocents al- lowed to live ? "
" I'll tell you, my friend, for your query leads me to the part I took in the tragedy. After exhausting every effort to stay the carnage, I had, with very many others, kept aloof from the slaughter pens, but all at once heard a piercing shriek, and saw a bright, active young lad of about eight years running for dear life in my direction, and pursued by one of the murderers with a gory, uplifted tomahawk. I immediately sprang towards him. The little fellow saw me ; ran as hard as his tiny legs would carry him, and wound his arms tight about my limbs, crying- 'Good pale face ! save 'ittle Injun boy. Don't let him kill Benny ! oh, don't !'
" I would have saved that life with my own ! Raising my rifle and drawing a bead on him, I sternly warned off the pursuing cut-throat. Fortunately those who saw the affair were as much moved as I was, and backed me up at once. And so the bloody miscreant was forced to re- tire sullenly without his prey."
" And what became of the lad ?" eagerly asked Brady.
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ONE LITTLE BOY SAVED.
" He's at my father's house on Buffalo Creek, and-oh, strange in- consistency of man !- the very caitiffs who were so pitiless at the car- nage, overwhelmed the little fellow with their attentions on the route home. He became a great favorite with all. Happily for him he has a child's memory, and is now as merry and frolicsome as any of my lit- tle brothers with whom he plays. I intend raising him and making a missionary of him, as the only reparation I can give for my share in this disgraceful expedition." *
" Oh, you're not to blame," said his companion, "and I thank you in the name of our common humanity for what you were able to do ; but what became of those at the upper village ?"
" Why, soon as the slaughter was over, a party of the most insatiable of the freebooters scurried off on horseback to Schoenbrun ; but, thank God, the game had fled. The village was found completely deserted, so setting fire to it, they returned and finished their devastation here, by first burning the two 'slaughter-houses,' and then the chapel, school house and all the other buildings.
" Hastily gathering up their ill-gotten and blood-stained plunder, they started for home, driving before them about fifty stolen horses. Some time after they marched to Smoky Island, opposite Fort Pitt ; attacked a settlement of peaceful and friendly Delawares there, under Killbuck, Big Cat, and the young chief who was to succeed White Eyes ; killed and scalped him with many others ; drove off the other chiefs and a ser- geant's guard from the fort ; crossed to Pittsburgh, boasting of their in- human atrocities, and ended by having a public vendue of all the blankets, guns, horses and other booty, so vilely and meanly stolen ; and so my story's ended."
"And a sad and shameful one it is," said Brady, as he rose slowly to his feet. "I fairly shudder at it-can scarce credit it-seems like some horrid nightmare! Come! I feel sore about this. Let's to camp! There's no use in a hell if not meant for just such fellows."
We may add here some few additional facts derived from Moravan writers, and of which, of course, Mr. Christy was then ignorant. Two Indian lads, respectively aged fourteen and fifteen, made a miraculous escape from the 'slaughter-houses.' One (Thomas by name) was knocked down and scalped with the rest, but after a while, coming to his senses, he.saw Abel, a friend, also scalped, covered with blood and trying to get on his feet. Fearing a return of the murderers, Thomas lay down and feigned death. True enough, the murderers did return, and seeing
* One little boy of eight years old (named Benjamin) was happily saved by a humane white man of the party, who privately took him off to his home, where he raised him to a man, whence he af- cerwards returned to the Indian country .- Heckewelder, Mor. Missions.
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Abel still living, chopped his head off. Thomas now crept over all the dead, mutilated bodies, stole out at the door, and concealed himself until dark and escaped.
The other lad referred to as escaping was in the house with the women and children, and raising a loose plank which served as a trap into the cellar, he and a companion slipped into the basement, and lay there during the whole time of the butchery, the blood of the slaughtered women and children running down upon them in streams through the crevices of the rough plank floor. At dark they both attempted to escape by a small hole which served for a window. The smaller one succeeded, but his companion stuck fast and was burnt with the house.
These two lads, the only human beings, besides the child mentioned, who escaped the slaughter, took to the woods at different times, and with that unerring sagacity which seems to be an instinct with Indians of all ages, made a straight course home. The next day they met on the trail, and also fell in with the spared fugitives from Schoenbrun. These latter had providentially been warned in time for all to escape.
A runner named Stephen had been sent down from Sandusky by the missionaries Zeisberger and Heckewelder to the three Moravian towns, summoning the corn-gathering parties to return. As he was much spent on arriving at Schoenbrun, two fresh messengers were sent on to Gnad- enhutten and Salem. On approaching the former, they saw tracks of shodden horses; then came on the scalped and mangled body of young Shabosch, and then saw in the distance the whites and Indians all crowded together. Hastening back with the news, the Indians at Schoenbrun at once took to the woods near by, and were there concealed when the monsters visited and burned their beautiful village.
Many attempts some of them of late years-have been made by his- torical writers to exculpate Williamson in regard to this terrible butchery. It cannot be done! The damned blood spot will not out at the bidding of any feeble apologist. The commander of the expedition must be held, not only as particeps criminis, but as its very "head and front." Dr. Doddridge asserts that, as a militia officer, Williamson could advise but not command, and that "his only fault was that of too easy com- pliance with popular prejudice." It is a gross abuse of words to call that a fault which should be deemed a flagrant crime.
" If the Colonel had but dared to head the eighteen protestants, and had boldly and firmly opposed the dastardly ruffians, not a man, woman or child would have bled. He did not so dare, but shirked his plain duty, bandying honied words and flimsy arguments when he should have thun- dered out commands or presented rifles. As with Macbeth, "All great Neptune's ocean cannot wash this blood clean from his hand."
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