USA > New York > Delaware County > History of Delaware County, and border wars of New York, containing a sketch of the early settlements in the county > Part 27
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The Captain and four of his men were wounded, but not dangerously. This tragedy was ended about 1 o'clock in the morning. Exasperated by these misfortunes, the fiendish Brant collected about 300 savage warriors, and made a descent on the fort in Schoharie. It was too strongly fortified to be taken by this force ; but there were not men enough to make a sally. Learning their situation, Captain Harper disguised himself, mounted a horse, and started for Albany to obtain aid. He passed through the midst of the enemy as a tory by the name of Rose. In the evening he stopped at a public house for refreshment, where were several men whose appearance was suspicious. He went into another room and locked the door. Shortly after, four tories, one of whom had recognized him, demanded entrance. He cocked his pistols, drew his sword, opened the door, and inquired their business. When informed they wished him, he coolly remarked : "Pass that door, and you are dead men." He received no further molestation at the house, but was fired at soon after he resumed his journey, but was not injured. On his arrival at head-quarters, the com- mander dispatched a squadron of mounted men, who rode all night. The first intimation received in the fort of any assist- ance, was a furious attack on the enemy by the cavalry, just as the day dawned .- The troops in the garrison immediately made a sally; the rout was complete, the slaughter of the Indians dreadful, many of them plunging into the stream, reddening its waters with blood. Harpersfield was named in honor of this said Harper, who resided in this town during the Revolution, and enjoyed the esteem and respect of all, for his valuable services in the Revolution. Harpersfield in Ohio was settled by his descendants, and named after him.
We will now return to Murphy. From the time of the battle of Utsayantho, (Harpersfield,) he commenced fighting on his own hook. His thirst for revenge knew no bounds. He was a man of great muscular power, near six feet in height,
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of an iron constitution, and swifter on foot than any one that ever pursued him. He obtained a double-barrelled rifle of the best kind. He carried the tomahawk and scalping-knife he took on the night he and Captain Harper killed the ten Indians, and could use them all as skilfully as any Mohawk. He soon became a terror to the red men. His many miraculous escapes and bold exploits led them to believe that he was protected by the Great Spirit. He hovered around them like a vulture; many of their braves fell beneath his brawny arm. He spent most of his time in the woods alone, seeking his hated foe. He never hesitated to attack a party of three Indians, and not un- frequently dispatched the whole. His courage was as cool as his revenge was direful. Such was Murphy, a revenging foe of the red man-with a warm heart for his friends.
The next day after the battle at the lake, he prepared him- self, and pursued a party of Indians that retreated down the Delaware. On the 2d night, he came in sight of their encamp- ment, and by the light of the fire, counted twenty-seven war- riors, some of whom were evidently wounded. He determined to wait until all was quiet, and make their number less by one. This he effected about midnight, and retreated without being pursued, as the night was quite dark. He followed this party until he dispatched six of their number, when he returned to his friends, who received him with joyful hearts, fearing he had fallen into the hands of his butchering foe. They entreated him to desist from such exposure to danger, but all in vain. He rested under an oath, and most fearfully did he perform it. He desired no angel's tear to blot it from the record; he held his life in his hands, but put upon it a high prize.
He then replenished his knapsack and started for the hills bordering on the Mohawk river. On the 2nd day he arrived at a settlement of whites, who were much distressed for the loss of one of their number a few hours before. Early in the morning, a young lady had ventured outside the block-house
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to milk a cow, when four savages suddenly sprang upon her, and dragged her to the woods. Her cries were heard, her frantic friends could see her struggles, but dared not venture out, as all the men who were able, had left a few days pre- vious for the northern army, among whom were her father, two brothers, and a young officer, to whom she was engaged to be married in a short time. Her mother was overwhelmed with grief, and gave up her child as lost. She fancied her expir- ing beneath the ruthless hand of the barbarians, perhaps writh- ing under the agonies of a slow fire, surrounded by demons in human shape, drowning her cries with their savage yells. No other heart beat higher or warmer for woman, than did that of Murphy. Like a knight of chivalry he darted off in pursuit. It was then ten o'clock ; four hours had elapsed since the capture. He soon found the trail, and advanced rapidly. About five o'clock, when on the top of a bold hill, he discovered the party in the valley below. The fair captive was still alive, but ex- pected that night would close her career forever. Her antici- pated happiness had faded away; she thought an awful fate was about to seal her doom. She said in her heart, farewell father, mother, brother, lover, friends, resigned herself to God, and became abstracted from the world. The images of her fond parents, her dear brothers, and of him, with whose soul hers had sweetly mingled, all passed in review before her imagination. She could only hope to meet them in heaven.
The encampment for the night was soon arranged by the red men, during which, Murphy approached as near as pru- dence would admit, before the mantle of night should cover him, determined that if they attempted any violence to the young lady, he would immediately rush upon them. With an eagle eye he watched every motion. They built a large fire, prepared their last supper, and about ten o'clock tied the hands and feet of their prisoner to two poles, and were soon in a pro- found sleep. For a few minutes she struggled, but soon found
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she was unable to extricate herself. Her bosom heaved with sighs, her eyes rolled wildly in their sockets; she seemed already on the torturing rack. Our knight was so near, he could see all this by the light of the fire. It was too much for him to endure. He drew his knife from its scabbard, and ad- vanced with slow and cautious steps. He was soon discovered by the young lady, and motioned her to keep silence. He unbound and removed her and the guns to some distance, and" enjoined her to keep silent, and if he became overpowered, to flee for her life ; for he had determined to kill his hated foes, or perish in the attempt. With his tomahawk in one hand, and his knife in the other, he returned. Waiting a few mo- ments for their sleep to become more sound, he approached their muscular frames. He plunged his knife into the hearts of three,-the fourth awoke, aimed a blow at Murphy with his tomahawk, which he parried, and cleft the head of the savage to the brain. As the Indian arose, the heroic girl, instead of making her escape, seized a gun and rushed to the aid of her deliverer. But the work was done, and the heroic knight stood contemplating with a species of maniac delight, the quivering bodies, expiring in the agonies of death. The liberated captive now gazed on the stranger. To her, all was inexplicable mystery. In a few words he explained the whole. matter, and assured her of his protection back to her habita- tion. She lifted her hands and eyes to heaven and exclaimed, "May God reward my benefactor !" A flood of tears choked further utterance, she clasped his hands in gratitude, and in- voked her God to command the richest blessings of heaven to rest upon him. That was the happiest moment of Murphy's life. His pleasure was purer and nobler, than if he had gained a crown or conquered a world.
The Rubicon passed, he took the blankets, which had not been unpacked, and persuaded his fair charge to take a little rest, which she much needed, after the trying scenes she had
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passed through on that gloomy day. Although sleep came not to her on that memorable night, she felt refreshed when the day dawned. The sun arose in all the beauty of a June morning; not a cloud obscured the sky. They started for the block-house, following the track, where they arrived about three in the afternoon. No one knew that the gallant Murphy had gone in pursuit of the captured girl. He had listened to their story the morning previous, with apparent indifference, with- out making any reply; concealing his design, fearing it might prove an entire failure. He was half suspected of being a tory, and in league with the savages, who had abducted the young girl. He was a stranger, of whose business and distinc- tion they knew nothing. Under such peculiar circumstances, their feelings can be but faintly conceived, much less described. It was a scene of thrilling interest, calculated to awaken the finest feelings of the human heart, the loftiest tones of unal- loyed gratitude. The next morning he left them, under a shower of invoked blessings and benedictions, and proceeded to his place of destination.
He arrived safely in the neighborhood of the Mohawk river, where he killed several of the red men, and narrowly escaped being killed himself. As he was lying in ambush he disco- vered an Indian, who from his actions he believed to be alone, and at once shot him. Instantly two brawny warriors rushed upon him with uplifted tomahawks. One he brought to the ground, from the contents of the barrel of his rifle; the other advanced and aimed a blow at his head, which he warded off, and plunged his knife to the heart of the savage.
He at once retreated to the fort at Schoharie, for fear he might in turn be ambushed. From thence he again returned to his friends at the block-house, and found them in great dis- tress. About two hours previous to his arrival two men, who were at work in the corn-field, had been taken by a party of Indians. The number of savages was not known; there were 29*
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but five remaining at the place with them. Murphy com- menced an immediate but cautious pursuit. Early in the evening they discovered the fire of their encampment, and discovered eight warriors who were preparing a war dance, and to wreak their vengeance upon their unhappy captives. As their preparations increased, Murphy and his comrades drew nearer. The prisoners were bound to a tree, around them faggots were placed, for the fire was to cap the climax of the festivity of the savages. Dreadful must have been the sufferings of the victims, now, beyond the reach of hope, and about to be tortured by a slow fire. The firing of the faggots was made the signal of attack. At length the blazing torch was raised, the heroic party rushed upon the Indians, placed the muzzles of their guns to their heads, and blew them into fragments. Six of them were instantly killed, and the next moment the spirits of the other two joined their companions, in their journey through the air. ~ The deliverance of the captives was unexpected, as it was joyful and soul-cheering. Of such thrilling scenes, nothing but experience can convey a correct idea, or draw a faithful picture. On the next day the party reached the block-house, where high-beating hearts and convulsed bosoms were awaiting the result of the bold expedi- tion. With open arms and joyful hearts the wives embraced their husbands, a flood of tears spake the feelings of their enraptured souls, with an eloquence unknown to words. Murphy was the hero, who richly merited and warmly received the gratitude of all. In the same manner this enraged Irish- man, who was known by the cognomen of Indian-killer, con- tinued to harass and murder the Indians, until they were driven from their ancient haunts. To relate all his wonderful exploits would require a volume. He had many hair-breadth escapes, was never taken prisoner, but once with Harper, nor dangerously wounded. He was much dreaded and feared by the Indians. He had a great desire to wreak his vengeance
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on Brant. But that murderous tory always remained with the main force, and cautiously avoided danger. For the Indian warrior, Murphy had no sympathy. The squaws and papooses he never molested, nor would he stoop to sacrifice any but their fighting men. To the day of his death, he indulged in feelings of the most direful revenge toward the natives of the forest.
At the restoration of peace, Murphy married and settled in Schoharie, but, in a few years after that period, he lived on the Charlotte, bordering on Harpersfield, and remained there until his death, which is about twelve miles, as Judson says, from Utsayantho, or Harpersfield, where the battle was fought, which place he often revisited, until prevented by old age. It was there, that I often listened to his stories. That ground had been enriched by the blood and moistened by the tears of hundreds. During the Revolution three pitched battles were fought there between the whites and Indians, the last of which was so disastrous to the red men, that they abandoned that ground to their enemy, the whites. In that beautiful valley, now improved by cultivation, Murphy always appeared ani- mated, and would " fight his battles over again." The scenes of past life, with all their dreadful and thrilling interest, would rush upon his memory, and often have I seen the big tears chasing each other rapidly down the furrows of his war- worn cheeks. He lived to the age of about seventy-five, beloved and esteemed by all, when his brave spirit took its final leave of this world of vicissitudes and changes. His bones moulder in Schoharie, near where the old fort stood, and not a stone is reared to tell the inquisitive stranger where they lie.
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CHAPTER XV.
The following interesting production, from the pen of a daughter of E. B. Fenn, Esq., is inserted, at the request of numerous friends.
THE ADVENTURES OF A YANKEE WOMAN,
BY MAUD SUTHERLAND, JR.
I.
" Honor and fame from no condition rise ; Act well your part-there all the honor lies."
MAN was created for the stern realities of life ; to wield with a giant's hands the destinies of nations ; to dive into the hid- den mysteries of this beautiful world; to perfect the arts and sciences, and to perform deeds of noble daring; while woman's sphere is to dispense benevolence, love and charity, to those around her. To this rule there are exceptions. There are females, whose minds are so constituted, that no task is too arduous, no danger too great, for them to grapple with and over- come.
Of such was Harriet Lovejoy. "Endowed by nature with a mind far above the common level, and rendered more brilliant by cultivation, she pursued a course that many of the sterner sex would have avoided gladly. She became acquainted with a man, whose sphere of action was the battle-field. Acquain- tance strengthened into friendship, and friendship ripened into love. During the winter previous to the close of the last war, they were married. No pomp or splendor reigned during
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those nuptial services, but there were hearts present that beat high with fond hopes and anticipations. Colonel Leavenworth was to leave immediately for Chippewa, Bridgewater, and Lundy's Lane, and thither Mrs. L., alias Harriet Lovejoy, was to accompany him; and she shrank not from the trials and difficulties attending this undertaking. Early on the morning following their marriage, was the time appointed for their de- parture. Parents and friends breathed many a prayer for their safe return. Good wishes for their success and prosperity, were tendered them, and the pangs of parting were rendered less acute in the hope of soon returning to their loved home ; yet, ere their departure, they were joined by four hundred and thirty brave men, the flower of Delaware county militia, who were to repair with Colonel Leavenworth, to the battle-field, to maintain the peace, rights, honor, prosperity and happiness of their own country ; to dispel the dark cloud that hung over a nation's destiny, and to perpetuate to future generations, the rich inheritance bequeathed them by their Revolutionary fathers, -thus proving by their heroic deeds, that they were not de- generate scions of a noble stock. Many hardships and diffi- culties stared them in the face, sufficient to appal the stoutest heart; but their courage failed not, although exposed to the rigors of intense cold, and with barely provisions sufficient to sustain life. At length their journey is accomplished. They have reached the battle-ground-their feet are treading foreign land.
II.
" There are swift hours in life-strong rushing hours, That do the work of tempests in their might."
Let us draw aside the curtain. The battle has commenced. The veteran troops of Old England, and the hardy sons of
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America, are in close contact. Onward they rush to the charge, with hearts burning for victory. Several times the American forces are driven back, and again they rally and rush upon the enemy, eager to obtain that which is dearer to them than life-their altars and their homes. Two horses are killed, on which Col. L. rode, and still he escapes uninjured. For- tune seems to smile on the efforts of the British troops; but this is not a damper on the spirits of the Americans. They know that their cause is a just one, and they feel that the smiles of a righteous Providence will yet be theirs. They are seek- ing to retrieve their country's safety, that lay bleeding at every pore.
Naught is heard but the clashing of arms, the roar of artil- lery, and the groans of the wounded and dying. The fate of the day is decided-the British troops are routed-the Ame- rican flag floats in triumph over the battle-field. Dearly was this victory purchased, for the bravest troops are slain, and only a handful of men are left, to relate the horrors of the day. Among the number of wounded, is Colonel Leavenworth.
Now the assistance of a wife is requisite ; and faithfully Mrs. Leavenworth performed her task : tenderly she watched over her husband, administering everything necessary for his com- fort, through those long days and nights of pain and anguish ; yet her attention was not confined to her husband alone. Like . an angel of mercy sent to bless mankind, she visited the sick and dying soldiers, performing all those acts of kindness, -springing from a heart formed of benevolence and love- that were necessary to alleviate their distress, to comfort them in their afflictions, and pour the balm of consolation on their stricken hearts.
O woman, kind and tender-hearted ! Thou hast a heart to feel for others' woes and sorrows. Thou canst dispense bless- ings and happiness, that will cause the faint and weary heart to revive, like the parched and withered plant after the gentle
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rain. Under the kind care and attention of Mrs. L., her hus- band and his soldiers recovered speedily. Here let me remark, that the soldiers loved Mrs. L. as their own life, and to use the words of one : "I never loved my mother with a greater intensity than I do this woman." There was not one of the army but would have sacrificed his own life to preserve hers.
Delaware county was clothed in mourning for the loss of the slain. Of four hundred and thirty soldiers, who left their happy homes to sustain their country's honor, only twenty- eight survived to accompany their brave Colonel and Lady on their return home. 1
III.
" Leave me not, leave me not, Say not adieu ; Have I not been to thee Tender and true ?"
Two years passed away,-the clarion of war is no more heard -peace and plenty is smiling on happy America. Instead of - the soldier in uniform, we behold the busy multitude at work in their shops and fields.
They are enjoying the liberty for which they fought so bravely. At this time Colonel L. received an appointment as Indian Agent, to the North-west Territory. He must now leave his wife and child for the first time, and struggle on in the wilds of the distant West, with no one to cheer him in his hours of loneliness. Vainly Mrs. L. urged her husband to allow her to accompany him, but there were hardships to en- counter, that he wished his wife not to meet. The hour of separation draws near, and tender was the scene of parting. A tear stole down the manly face of the husband, as he re- pressed the heaving sigh that was swelling his heart with deep emotion, for he wished not to break up the fountains of
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a heart, dearer to him than his own life, already heaving with anguish.
" Harriet, Harriet, I must leave you. To the tender care of the ' widow's God,' I now commend you. In His hands you are safe, and may He protect and watch over you and our child, until in His own good time we meet again. Farewell :" and the next moment Colonel L. sprang into his carriage, and was fast receding from those who loved him devotedly, sin- cerely.
Amid the ever-changing scenes he was called to realize, the image of his lovely wife and child was ever with him, serving as a beacon-light to cheer and guide the husband and father, during his lonely pilgrimage.
Could Mrs. L. be forgetful ? No. Sweet thoughts of her husband would steal over her mind, ravishing her senses with love and beauty, and causing her heart to grow fonder and fonder, and long more and more for the companionship of an absent dear one.
Soon after Colonel L.'s departure, Mrs. L. occupied her time in teaching a select school, that afterwards laid the foun- dation for the Delaware Academy. This served in a great measure to dispel her loneliness. Great was her joy when- ever she received messages from her husband, filled as they were, with fond regrets and tender recollections. He revealed his heart fully to his wife, and she read therein naught but constancy and affection. Her letters in turn, were such as would inspire his magnanimous soul with confidence, and so deeply was his mind absorbed in their contents, that he seemed to forget his cares and perplexities-I had almost said, their very existence.
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IV.
" The scene is changed. Once more I feel the pressure of thy hand, and Thy warm kiss on my cheek."
A few years passed, and Mrs. L. received a letter from her husband, wishing her to join him at Prairie Du Chien, and bring their daughter with her. Hasty were the preparations for their departure. Minutes appeared like hours, and hours like days to her. A person unlike Mrs. L. would have shud- dered at the idea of undertaking so long and tedious a journey, alone and unprotected, but with her usual courage and fortitude, she only said : "I will try," and half of the task was accom- plished. k
We now behold her wending her way to the "Far West." Her course is south on the Atlantic, across the Gulf of Mexi- co, and north on the Mississippi river, to St. Louis. These were lonely hours to her; yet, as she was a great admirer of Nature and its works, she enjoyed many pleasant hours in be- holding the sun as it seemed to rise out of the bosom of the sea, decking the eastern sky with all possible loveliness, or watch its decline as it sunk gradually in the ocean, burnish- ing the waters with a golden light, or watch the foam of the ocean's billow as the noble ship sails swiftly o'er its bosom.
Arriving at St. Louis, she repaired to the hotel her husband had directed her to. Reaching the inn, she inquired of the landlord, " If any person was waiting at his house for Mrs. L." He replied, " there was," and left the room: A few moments elapsed, and Mrs. L. heard a gentle rap at her door. She obeyed the summons. Before her stood the tall and athletic form of an Indian chief. The feathers that adorned his head were beautiful, and waved gracefully to-and-fro. His face
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was painted after the customs of the chiefs, and this gave a frightful aspect to his countenance. In his belt was a scalp- ing-knife, and by his side hung a tomahawk. For the first time Mrs. L.'s heart sank within her, and she thought : "Is this the person who will accompany me during the remainder of my journey ?"
Summoning all her courage, she invited him "to be seated." He declined the invitation politely, and handed her a package. She recognized the handwriting. It was her husband's, and this inspired her with new confidence.
" Mrs. Leavenworth, I am sent by your husband to conduct you to him. When will you be ready to commence the journey ?"
"To-morrow at sunrise," she replied.
"I will call for you at that time," he replied; and bowing with the native hautuer of an Indian chief, he left the room.
With pleasure and interest, she perused her husband's letters, assuring her of her safety while on her journey through the wilderness. The Indians were friendly, and would protect her from all harm. The distance yet to travel was 700 miles, and a great part of the distance was through a dense forest where the foot of the white man had never trod. At her usual hour for retiring she laid her daughter by her side, and sweet were her dreams. She dreamed of happy hours whose existence seemed the present ; while the reality was yet in the future.
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