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 50
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Both parties lay on their arms the whole night, kindling large fires in front, and then retiring some distance to the rear, in order to prevent night surprises.
BATTLE RENEWED THE NEXT DAY-CRAWFORD FORCED TO RETREAT.
Early the next day the battle was renewed, but only at long shot, and so continued during the whole day, but Crawford's position was plainly growing worse and more untenable each hour, while that of the enemy was just contrariwise. Crawford wished to compel closer and more decisive fighting, but his men were exhausted by the heat and thirst, or sickened by bad water, and it was finally concluded to lay by and then attempt a night attack.
A wonderful and disastrous change, however, soon set in. Then con- fidence soon turned to doubt, and doubt to dismay. Towards evening an outlying sentinel discovered a troop of horse approaching on a brisk trot in the direction of the Wyandots. They were Butler's British Rangers, and we now know were from Detroit, although none of Crawford's men knew then, if they did ever, where they were from. That British aid could come from Detroit, or from any other point, was never so much as dreamed of by any. It was now supposed they must have descended from Maumee or Sandusky Bay.
The tidings came to the Americans with startling and stunning force. A council of war was called at once. Even while they were deliber- ating, a large reinforcement of Shawnees from Mad river, about two hundred strong, was observed moving along in full view on their flank, and taking position with the Delawares, so that the trail our scouts fol- lowed ran along between two hostile camps. All over the prairie, too, small squads of the enemy could be seen pouring in from various direc- tions. Matters began to look desperate. British cavalry, with a cloud of yelling savages on one side, and a strong force of Shawnees on the
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other ! They were clearly outnumbered, two to one, and every hour was adding to their inferiority.
A retreat that night was instantly and unanimously resolved upon. It was commenced at nine o'clock, in four divisions. The dead were hastily buried, and litters were prepared for the dangerously wounded. Mean- while the desultory firing was continued. The loud, hoarse voice of Girty was frequently heard in various directions, directing and locating his different forces, and it became at once patent to the very dullest comprehension that he was preparing for an overwhelming and irresisti- ble attack the next day.
At dark the outposts were withdrawn as quietly as possible, and the whole body was put in motion. Unfortunately, the enemy early discov- ered the movement, and at once opened a hot fire. Many became pan- icky, and the retreat grew confused and precipitate. It is a delicate matter for even trained veterans to retire in face of a superior and vic- torious army. With raw volunteers an orderly withdrawal is almost impossible. Great wonder, dark as was the night, that this hasty retreat did not degenerate into an utter rout; but, thanks to the officers, some order was preserved.
A great blessing was it that the enemy was also in confusion and some alarm. They were not so sure that a retreat was intended, and were fearful of a feint or a night attack, a style of fighting that redmen never indulge in if it is possible to avoid. Unfortunately, a number of horses now became hopelessly bogged in a swamp, and had to be aban- doned. The rear suffered severely, while many parties became detached from the main body and straggled off, blindly groping their way through the black, tangled woods. Only about three hundred were found together next morning.
The unpleasant discovery was now made that Colonel Crawford, the commander, was missing, with his son, son-in-law and nephew; also Slover, the guide, and Dr. Knight, the surgeon. None had heard of them, and knew not whether killed, wounded or straggling. Colonel Williamson now took command and, aided constantly and most effici- ently by Major Rose, strove to bring order out of confusion.
It would require a volume to relate the various adventures and vicis- situdes, or the sad and cruel fate that befell individuals and groups of stragglers. Some of them are intensely exciting and interesting. We can only follow the main body, which marched steadily and rapidly along all that day. The British cavalry and a body of mounted In- dians hovered in their rear, but did little damage. That afternoon, as they were nearing the woods which bounded the Sandusky Plains on the east, the enemy began to press hard on their rear, and undertook a
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rapid flank movement on either side, with the design of cutting off all retreat, or of forcing a disastrous combat on the plain, before the shelter of the woods could be secured.
Our resolute little force was driven to bay just at the entrance of the forest, and doggedly faced about, their pursuers-all mounted, but with no artillery-overlapping them on both sides, and painfully superior both in number and equipments.
Williamson and Rose exerted themselves to the utmost to organize a spirited and efficient defence. The latter, especially, flew from rank to rank, cheering and encouraging all by his skill, his coolness and his intrepidity. "It is not too much to say," writes Butterfield, in his ad- mirable and exhaustive account of Crawford's Expedition, "that the undaunted young foreigner was the good angel of the American forces." "Stand to your ranks, boys!" were his inspiring words sounding along the lines; "stand to your ranks! take steady aim! fire low! and don't throw away a single shot ! Remember! everything depends upon your steadiness."
The enemy attacked vigorously in front, flank and rear, but in less than an hour were forced to give way, and were driven off at every point. The battle over, a driving storm swept along with unusual fury, wetting all the arms and drenching the troops to the skin. They continued the retreat, the enemy rallying their scattered force and following hard after.
Their firing became at last so galling that a complete panic would have resulted had it not been for the almost superhuman efforts of Major Rose, who enjoined upon the wavering lines that they must keep rank or not a soul of them would ever reach home. Order was at length restored, every now and then the front company filing to the left and taking position in the rear, thus giving each company its turn in cover- ing the retreat.
Next morning, however, the enemy reappeared and hung for awhile in the rear, capturing and tomahawking two of the scouts; but just then, fortunately, the pursuit was abandoned. The last hostile shot was fired near where Crestline, O., now stands. Neither savage nor ranger was afterwards seen during the retreat ; but many stragglers found their way back to the lines, and were received with welcome hurrahs.
The Muskingum was recrossed on the roth, and Mingo Bottom was reached on the 13th, where some of the missing had arrived before them. They immediately recrossed the Ohio and dispersed to their several homes. Parties or single stragglers came in for days afterwards. The total loss in killed, wounded and missing, it has since been discov- ered, was less than seventy,
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CRAWFORD'S CAPTURE AND THRILLING ADVENTURES.
Colonel Williamson, in his official report to General Irvine at Fort Pitt, writes thus of his aid, the gallant Major Rose : " I must acknow- ledge myself ever obliged to Major Rose for his assistance, both in the field of action and in the camp. His character is estimable, and his bravery cannot be outdone." General Irvine, too, in his letter to Crawford's widow, says: " After the defeat, Williamson and others in- formed me that it was owing, in a great degree, to the bravery and good conduct of Major Rose that the retreat was so well effected."
Thus ended this twenty days' campaign in the western wilds. The total failure of the expedition created incredible alarm and dismay along the whole border, which was now left more defenceless than ever, and for months after was exposed to merciless marauds and scalping forays.
COLONEL CRAWFORD'S CAPTURE AND THRILLING ADVENTURES.
And where all this time was Colonel William Crawford, the courteous gentleman, the brave and gallant partisan officer, the daring defender of the West, and the trusted, life-long friend of Washington ? Dr. Knight, in his thrilling account of his own escape, says he had not gone over a quarter of a mile in the general retreat before he heard Crawford calling out of the dark and confusion for his son, John ; his nephew, William ; his son-in-law, Major Harrison, and on his friend, Major Rose. Knight told him he thought they were all in front, and promised to stand by him. They both waited and called for the absent men until all the troops had passed, when the Colonel said his horse had given out, and he wished some of his best friends to stay by him.
By this time they were near the marsh, where they saw some volun- teers vainly struggling to disengage their horses from the oozy bog. Crawford, Knight and two others, now changed their route to the north for a couple of miles, and then east, directing their course by the north star. They traveled all night, crossing the Sandusky. By daylight Crawford's horse gave out and was abandoned. That afternoon they fell in with Captain Biggs and Lieutenant Ashley-the latter severely wounded-and went into camp. The next day they were quietly thridding their way through the matted woods, when several Indians started up within a few feet of Knight and Crawford.
As only three were first discerned, Knight sprang behind a black oak and was taking aim when the Colonel called twice to him not to fire. One of the savages then ran up and took Crawford's hand, and an- other, whom Knight had formerly often seen, ran up to him, calling him Doctor. The party had fallen into an ambuscade of Delawares,
5
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Wingenund's camp being only half a mile off. Captain Biggs had fired at the Indians and missed ; but all succeeded, for the present, in escaping but Knight and Crawford, who were taken to the Indian camp. The scalps of Biggs and Ashley were brought in soon after.
As may well be supposed, the rejoicings of the savages at their late decisive victory had been immense. The allied forces retired to the Half King's town to celebrate the triumph with all sorts of dances, orgies and ceremonies. The British horse were compelled to retire to Detroit immediately, but the Indian women and children came out from their hiding places, and the festivities were kept up for some time. Among the spoils were numerous horses, guns, saddles, lashing- ropes, etc.
The first excitement over, a runner was sent to bring Crawford and Knight on to Pipe's town on the Tymochtee. Their doom was already sealed, but they were kept in total ignorance of their fate. As before stated, the burning and torture of prisoners was an obsolete custom among the Wyandots, and the Delawares did not dare to so put them to death without permission from Pomoacon. To obtain this the crafty Pipe resorted to a ruse. A runner, with a belt of wampum, was dis- patched to the Half King with a message to the effect that they had a cherished project to accomplish and did not wish him to interfere, and that they would consider the return of the wampum as equivalent to his pledged word. The Half King was puzzled. He narrowly questioned the messenger, who feigned ignorance. Finally, supposing it must be some war expedition against the border which the Delawares wished to undertake, he returned the belt to the messenger with these words : "Say to my nephews they have my pledge !"
This was poor Crawford's death warrant. On June roth he and Knight, with nine other prisoners, were all marched off on the trail to the Half King's town. Crawford had been told that Simon Girty- who had scarcely reached Detroit, from a border raid, before news of Crawford's expedition and Pomoacon's earnest appeal for immediate aid summoned him away again-was at the Half King's town. Girty was an old acquaintance of Crawford-some say a rejected suitor of one of his daughters-and at the latter's appeal he was conducted, under charge of two warriors, to interview the renegade. The rest continued on.
Crawford saw Girty that night ; very little is known of the confer- ence, but a Christian Indian, Tom Galloway by name, asserts that he heard the whole talk, and that Crawford had made to Girty an earnest appeal for his life, offering him a thousand dollars if he succeeded ; and that Girty promised he would do all he could for him.
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CRAWFORD'S CAPTURE AND THRILLING ADVENTURES.
This being reported to Pipe and Wingenund, only made them more determined on his speedy death.
Girty also told the Colonel that Major Harrison, his son-in-law, and young William Crawford, his nephew, were prisoners to the Shawnees, but had been pardoned by them. True as to their capture, but false as to the pardon. The prisoners at the Half King's town, soon after Crawford's departure, were tomahawked and their heads stuck upon poles. It is certain they were not tortured to death.
Knight and his fellow prisoners meanwhile had been taken on to Old Town, and securely guarded during the night. Next day Pipe and Wingenund approached them, the former with his own hands painting all their faces black, a sure sign of intended death. Crawford soon after came up, and now saw the two redoubtable Delaware war chiefs for the first time. They both came forward and greeted him as an old ac- quaintance, Pipe telling him, in his blandest and oiliest manner, that he would have him shaved (adopted), but at the same time he painted him black !
The whole party now started for Pomoacon's town, the two chiefs keeping Knight and Crawford in the rear. They soon had the inex- pressible horror of seeing, at intervals of half a mile apart, the dead, scalped bodies of four of their fellow prisoners. To add to their alarm and dismay, they now diverged off into a trail leading from Pomoacon's hut directly to Pipe's town. Their very last hope now died in their sad hearts.
On the Little Tymochtee, where there was an Indian hamlet, they overtook the other five prisoners, and all were ordered to sit on the ground. Here a lot of squaws and children fell on the five prisoners with incredible fury, and tomahawked and scalped them all. One hideous old hag cut off the head of John McKinly, and kicked it about over the grass. The boys came up to where the horror-stricken Knight and Crawford were sitting apart, and frequently dashed the gory and reeking scalps into their very faces.
Again they were driven forward, and were soon met by Simon Girty and several prominent Indians, all mounted. Girty well knowing what fate had been decided for Crawford, had ridden across the plains to Pipe's town-let us hope to save him, if possible.
Those who contend that Girty was nothing but a wild beast, assert that he never interfered or intended to interfere ; that he not only con- sented to Crawford's death, but took a fiendish delight in witnessing it. Others, having quite as good means of information, strongly assert that he did all he could for Crawford, but that that was not much.
The Delawares were obstinately bent on making the " Big Captain,"
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OUR WESTERN BORDER.
as they styled Crawford, a victim and an example. The late horrible massacre of so many of their tribe on the Muskingum had rendered them absolutely envenomed and pitiless, and it is probable that no one- not even Pomoacon himself-could have saved Crawford. Girty was an adopted Wyandot, and any strong or' persevering effort on his part to defraud the zealous and infuriated Delawares of their revenge would not only have subjected him to insult, but to personal injury.
Joseph Mccutcheon, in an article on Girty in the American Pioneer, asserts that he gathered from the Wyandots themselves that Girty offered a large sum of money to Pipe for Crawford, which the chief received as a great insult, promptly replying :
" Sir, do you think I am a squaw? If you say one word more on the subject, I will make a stake for you and burn you along with the White Chief."
Girty, knowing the Indian character, retired in silence.
Mccutcheon also asserts that Girty had sent runners to Mohican Creek and Lower Sandusky, where there were some white traders, to come immediately and buy Crawford off. The traders came, but were too late, Crawford being then in the midst of his tortures.
Be all this as it may, if any efforts were made in Crawford's behalf, they were totally ineffectual. As the two prisoners moved along, almost every Indian they met struck them with their fists or with sticks. Girty asked Knight if he was the doctor ; Knight said yes, and extended his hand ; upon which Girty called him a - rascal, and bid him begone, and afterwards told him he was to go to the Shawnees towns.
COLONEL CRAWFORD'S AWFUL AND PROTRACTED TORTURES.
We now approach the sad end of this mournful, cruel tragedy. The other prisoners were dispatched promptly and without ceremony, but for the " Big Captain " a more dreadful, appalling fate was reserved. All the devilish and excruciating tortures which ever entered into savage head to conceive were to be visited on the distinguished leader of the ill-starred expedition.
Almost within sight of Pipe's town, and amid a yelling, infuriated crowd of over one hundred braves, squaws and boys, a brisk fire was kindled. It was late on the afternoon of Tuesday, June 11th, 1782. There were the two Delaware war chiefs, Pipe and Wingenund ; Simon Girty, and Captain Elliott, in the uniform of a British officer, stood near. Dr. Knight was also a horrified and unwilling spectator of the awful scene.
----
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CRAWFORD'S AWFUL AND PROTRACTED TORTURES.
He and Crawford, stripped entirely naked and painted black, were first ordered to sit down, when all at once the savages fell upon them and belabored them most unmercifully. Meanwhile a long stake had been firmly planted, to which the poor Colonel was fastened by a rope just long enough to allow him to either sit down or take two or three turns around. The wretched victim, seeing all these frightful prepara- tions and the scowling, distorted visages of the yelling and leaping de- mons about him, called to Girty, and asked if the savages intended burning him. Girty answered "yes;" to which Crawford said he would strive to bear it all with fortitude. Pipe, who, of all present, seemed the most savage and implacable, made one of his ardent, stirring harangues, exciting his motley audience to a perfect fury.
Heckewelder relates that when Wingenund afterwards came to Detroit, he was severely censured for not saving the life of his old acquaintance, Colonel Crawford. He listened calmly, and then said to Heckewelder: "These men talk like fools," and then, turning to his accusers, he said, in English: "If King George himself had been on the spot, with all his ships laden with treasures, he could not have ransomed my friend, nor saved his life from the rage of a justly exasperated multitude." He never after would allude to the torture, but was full of grief, and felt greatly hurt at those who censured him; for he contended that the Gnadenhutten massacre was a wanton and most atrocious insult to his nation, and that the blood of those innocent Christians, so inhumanly butchered, called aloud for vengeance.
Another circumstance Heckewelder asserts was much against the pris- oner. It was reported that the Indian spies, on examining the camp at Mingo Bottom, after the expedition left, found on the peeled trees these words, written with coal: "No quarters to be given to an Indian, whether man, woman or child !" If such rumors were circulated among the savages, they must have been done for effect, or were after-thoughts designed to excuse these atrocious tortures. There is not a tittle of evi- dence going to prove any such ferocious bravado, although doubtless a large proportion of the volunteers were the same Indian haters who were out on the Williamson raid.
Heckewelder also gives a highly interesting account of the conversa- tion alleged to have occurred just before the commencement of the tor- tures, between Wingenund and Crawford, in which the former solemnly asserted that by Crawford's making himself an accomplice of the exe- crable miscreant Williamson, it was out of his power or that of any of his friends to save him.
Upon Crawford's most solemn assurance that both he and all good men not only condemned that atrocious slaughter, but that he was put
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at the head of this expedition expressly to prevent any excesses of that kind, and that it was not undertaken, as the Indians asserted, against the remnant of the Christian Indians, but for a purely military purpose, the chief said the Indians could not be made to believe such a story ; that if Williamson had been taken, he (Wingenund) and his friends might have effected something; but since that savage murderer had run off, no man would dare to interfere; that the blood of the slaughtered, the relatives of those massacred, and that the whole nation cried aloud for revenge.
Heckewelder thus concludes: "I have been assured by respectable Indians that at the close of this conversation, which was related to me by Wingenund, as well as by others, both he and Crawford burst into a flood of tears; they then took an affectionate leave of each other, and the chief immediately hid himself in the bushes, as the Indians express it, or retired to a solitary spot. He never afterwards spoke of the fate of his unfortunate friend without strong emotions of grief, which I have several times witnessed." Whether this conversation actually occurred; whether it was the coinage of Heckewelder or of Wingenund-and each presumption has its adherents-must, at this late day, be left entirely to conjecture and the probabilities of the case. Certain it is, the cruel tortures went on.
The men now took up their guns and shot powder into Crawford's naked body from his feet up to his neck, to the number of full seventy loads. They then crowded in on him, and must have cut off his ears, since Dr. Knight saw the blood running in streams from both sides of his head. The circle of fire rose from small hickory poles, and was placed several yards from the stake, so that the poor sufferer had not, like the blessed martyrs of old, the consolation of a speedy, if a horri- ble death, but by a hellish refinement of cruelty his tortures were design- edly prolonged. It would not serve the purposes of these incarnate fiends to have the victim become too soon insensate; they must gall and sting, beat and harass, rack and worry him by slow installments. Happy was the savage who could wreak upon the wretched sufferer one pang or agony more exquisite or excruciating than the last! who could wring from his poor humanity a more profound groan, or who could give his shrinking nerves or quivering flesh one added torment.
As Crawford began his weary rounds about the post, the yelling fiends would take up the blazing fagots and apply them to his shrinking, powder-scorched body. The squaws, more pitiless, if possible, than the men, gathered up the glowing embers on broad peelings of bark and cast them over his trembling body. Oh, it was horrible-most hor- rible. No escape from these merciless devils ; their leering, hideous faces
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presented on all sides, and very soon the writhing martyr walked solely on a bed of scorching coals.
CRAWFORD'S LAST MOMENTS-"HE GIVES UP THE GHOST "
In the very midst of these awful orgies, Crawford called upon Girty again and again to shoot him and end his misery. Girty, it is said, re- plied he had no gun. He would not have dared to shoot even had he been so disposed. He soon after came up to Knight, and bade him pre- pare for the same death. He then observed that the prisoners had told him that if he were captured by the Americans they would not hurt him. He did not believe it, but was anxious to know the Doctor's opinion on the subject. He, at the same time, railed against Colonel John Gibson, of Fort Pitt, as one of his most hated enemies, and much more to the same purpose.
The unhappy Doctor was so distressed at the poignant and excruciat- ing torments inflicted right before his very eyes upon his friend, and by the near prospect of a similar awful fate, that, he says in his " Narra- tive," he scarcely heard, much less answered.
Crawford was now nearly exhausted by his long-continued sufferings. His flesh was becoming callous, his nerves dulled by excess of pain. He bore all with heroic fortitude, uttering no cries, but calling in low, sad tones on a merciful God to have pity on him and give him surcease of suffering.
For nearly two hours longer he suffered every variety of inhuman torture. Devils in hell could devise no more or no worse. At last, be- ing almost spent, and his dull, deadened nerves no longer responding to any kind of torment, he lay down on his fiery bed.
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