USA > Ohio > Fairfield County > A complete history of Fairfield County, Ohio > Part 26
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The following tragic story is here rendered current with its narration in General Sanderson's address, delivered before the Lancaster Literary Association in March, 1844, and mainly from recollection, as I have not been able to put my hands on the document at this late day, nearly thirty-three years after- ward. And here I promise that the story is not introduced as re- liable history. Of the accuracy of some of the main points, I have no doubt; at least so far as the scouts and the rescue are concerned. All, however, is traditional rather than historical. The story of the scouts and the rescue were handed down from the first settlers, and were well founded in belief, The absence of written history has been construed as casting some doubt on the reliability of the tradition, yet there is enough to justify the belief, and we render the story. The coloring and poetry are the allowable privileges of romancers :
The scene lies somewhere between 1780 and 1799, and at a time when the Wyandot Indians held undisputed possession of the Hocking Valley. Two white scouts, whose names are 19
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given as Wetzel and Maywood, were watching from the sum- mit of Mount Pleasant the movements of the Indians; for what purpose is not known. By some, it is surmised, that they were seeking redress for some depredation on the white settle- ments along the Ohio river ; by others, that their mission was to learn the strength and designs of the savages. The rocky recesses and dense growth of pine and other trees on the top and slopes of the mount afforded the scouts perfect conceal- ment, and at the same time, in the event of discovery and at- tack, a fortress of defense, as the few accessible points to the summit were easily guarded from ambush. Their principal danger, therefore, in the event of an attack, was in being starved into capitulation by a protracted siege. They easily saw the coming and going of the inhabitants of Tarhe Town, which was situated one mile to the south, and on the table- lands where the railroad works and agricultural works now are. They had succeeded for several days in maintaining per- fect concealment, and at the same time in keeping a sharp look-out.
Three-quarters of a mile west of Mount Pleasant is a hill that at the time was covered with a dense forest. The inter- mediate ground between the hill and the mount was also cov- ered with trees and underbrush. A few feet from the south- west base of the hill flowed the Hocking, and beyond it, and stretching off to the west, was a prairie, more or less grown over with high grass and clusters of willow-bushes. Imme- diately from the south base of the hill flowed a strong current of pure limpid water, which is familiarly known to this day as the "Cold Spring." The approach to it was over a tolera- bly well worn foot-path round its eastern and south-eastern margin, for the Indians were in the habit of frequenting the spring for supplies of water. The path was entirely con- cealed by the forest and thick growth of pawpaw-bushes. With the exception of the trodden path, everything there was in the same condition of nature it had been for unknown ages. The stream itself was overhung with the growths along its banks. Any one going to and from the spring was, there- fore, exposed only to the chance of meeting stray Indians, who, for the time, might be detached from the main body that was closely watched by Wetzel and Maywood.
To the Cold Spring the scouts went to get water, one keep-
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ing watch on the mount while the other performed the haz- ardous task. It was growing toward the close of the day. " Every leaf was at rest, " and that awful stillness which will forever remain unknown to all those unfamiliar with forest life, reigned all around. Not a sound, save the humming of insects in the tree-tops, broke the silence profound. To those who have penetrated the depths of the forest, this buzzing of flies will be remembered as only serving to make the silence, the "dumb silence, still more dumb. "
It was a little more than one mile to Tarhe Town, but if a thousand miles had intervened, it could not have been more quiet in the vicinity of the Cold Spring. True, roving Indians might have lurked almost at the next step, unheard, for so solitary and silent was their tread when off the war-path, or when not engaged in some of their many ways of making sport, that one might pass almost in contact with them, wholly unaware of their near presence. To those unfamilar with Indian life in the forest, no idea can be formed of their cat-like movements. Naturally of few words, their feet shod with the soft moccasin, and traveling, as is their habit, in single file, they move as noiselessly as if miles away, so far as human ears are concerned. This is doubtless owing to their trained habits of stealing stealthily on their prey. On the other hand, their appalling war whoop, familiar only to frontiersmen, when excited, makes the forest ring with wild echoes far and near, and creates the instinct of seeking to widen the space between them and the white man whose ear catches the sound. Even the beasts of the forest scamper away to their wild recesses to seek safety from their deadly foe, as soon as the shriek reaches them.
Wetzel had been to the spring, and with his canteens filled with water, was stealing as stealthily away as he came. In his right hand he grasped his unerring rifle, while his eyes and ears were wide open to catch the faintest sound or movement, or intimations of unwelcome presence. He was just making the bend round the south corner of the hill, not exceeding fifty yards from the spring, when suddenly, and without the least premonitory sound, he found himself visa-vis with a couple of squaws. There was not a moment to be lost in delib- eration, and his plan was formed with lightning speed, for he knew that a yell from one of the savages before him would
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speedily bring to the spot a score or more of warriors, . when his fleetness of foot would be his only chance of safety ; and be- sides, he knew such a catastrophe could not fail of discovering his retreat, greatly imperiling the chances of escape. With the quickness and agility of a tiger he dropped his gun, and springing forward, grasped the throat of each in his powerful hands, rushed into the stream but a few feet to the right, and plunged their heads beneath the water, which was considerably swollen by recent rains, where he intended to keep them until all danger of making a noise was forever at an end with both of them. One of them was old, the other young and athletic. The latter resisted heroically, and finally, getting her head above water, and her mouth cleared, she addressed Wetzel in English. This caused him to desist, and to question her, when, to his great astonishment, she informed him that she was a white girl, and a captive. Time was precious, and ascertaining that the old squaw was quite dead, the scout and the rescued girl started for Mount Pleasant. They had no more than reached the base of the mount, when, from back in the direction they had come, came the most deafening yells, as if from five hundred throats, which told them that the body of the drowned squaw had been found, as well as the trail of the white man's foot. There was nothing now left for them but to gain the summit as soon as possible, and prepare for the defense, for they knew the savages in great numbers would soon be upon them. They were not long in gaining the top, where they rejoined Maywood, and a brief council was held, as to the course of defense to be pursued.
There were not more than twoor three points of access, and to these the attention of the besieged was entirely directed. Night was fast coming on, and the scouts were told by the girl, who was able to converse freely with them, that there was little probability that the Indians would hazard the attempt to gain the top of the mount in the dark. Their means of defense consisted of two rifles, and a supply of ammunition sufficient to hold out for several days. Their greatest source of anxiety arose from the fact of their scanty supply of provisions, and the utter impossibility of procuring water, unless the passage to the spring and back could be accomplished in the night. But that feat seemed too full of peril to be thought of, for they knew
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that every possible point of escape from the mount would be carefully guarded by dark assassins.
It was not long after Wetzel and the girl gained the sum- mit of Mount Pleasant, when they were surrounded on all sides by the howling savages, who sent up at them the most demoniac yells of defiance, which continued until darkness came on, when all was profoundly silent. In the meantime the points of access were closely sentineled ; but throughout the tedious and sleepless night, no signs of attempt to scale the rocky fortress were indicated.
The night passed away as the earth rolled round to meet the God of Day, who was again to light up the world with his burning face in the East. Wetzel, Maywood and the girl, felt no want of slumber throughout the terrible vigil. Their nerves were wrought up to too great a degree of tension to per- mit nature to assert her demands, for well they knew that death, perhaps by terrible torture, would be their certain doom if they should fall into the hands of their merciless foes. They knew also that with the return of day the attack would be vig- orously renewed. Their supply of water was nearly out, and their little stock of provisions was diminishing, and starvation and famishing seemed imminent, unless they should go down and surrender themselves to a fate far more to be feared than starvation and the agonies of consuming thirst. They resolved, therefore, to withstand the siege to the last, rather than to sub- mit themselves to the fiendish revenge of the relentless sav- ages. To still further add to the terror of the scouts, the dis- covery was made towards morning that the girl had disap- peared in the darkness-perhaps gone back to the camp to re- port their helplessness, and to aid in their ultimate capture.
They were greatly surprised however, as the morning ad- vanced, that there were no indications of Indians below. Not even the sound of a voice could be heard far or near. In the meantime the watch was kept up, lest some secret and silent approach was being made. Still the silence that reigned all around remained unbroken, a circumstance that further con- tributed to increase their apprehensions.
Near the eastern part of the "Standing Stone" (the name given to Mount Pleasant by the Indians) was a steep and rugged ascent, over points of jagged rocks, down which the eye peered more than a hundred feet through the thick over-
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hanging foliage, while the sentinel above could keep himself concealed from even the sharpest Indian eye. It was per- haps ten o'clock, or about that hour, when Wetzel, from his concealment, caught sight of a stalwart Wyandot silently and cautiously creeping upon a footing far down below. He at last gained his point, and paused, with rifle in hand, as he seemed to listen, and perhaps calculated his plans for a further ascent. It was but a moment. There was a curl of smoke, a sharp crack of a rifle, and the brawny savage sprang into the air but to be precipitated headlong on the rocks far beneath, a life- less corpse. Almost instantly another took his place, seeming to come from a crevice on the left. Another curl of smoke ;
another sharp crack, and another tumble into the abyss as suddenly followed. A third phantom curl, and three bronzed bodies lay a crushed mass of flesh and bones at the foot of Mount Pleasant. This third tragedy was instantly followed by the wildest tumult from every point of the surrounding thickets below. Seemingly, a thousand guttural throats were opened to give vent to the most hellish rage. The clamor lasted several minutes, when all again became quiet, and the remainder of the day passed with the usual stillness of the forest solitudes.
With the accession of the darkness of the second night, Wetzel and Maywood seated themselves together on a pile of rocks, for the purpose of holding a counsel as to what was to be done. Their position was at a point just above where the three Indians had a few hours previously met so unex- pectedly their dcom. They were contemplating the chances of possible escape in the face of such imminent peril. It was to be a daring and perilous descent ; but they were beginning to feel the pinchings of hunger and thirst ; nevertheless, they were both powerful men, and very fleet on foot, and they hoped that if once they got safely to the table-land below, un- perceived by their foes, to be able to effect their escape. Pro- found darkness and silence surrounded. Suddenly, and with- out the least premonitory sound whatever, a gentle hand was placed on Wetzel's shoulder, at the same time that a canteen filled with fresh water was placed on his knee, accompanied by a few small pieces of jerked venison ; and then, in a whis- per, a female voice said, "Be on this spot to-morrow night, and await my coming." They began to interrogate the mys
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terious visitant, or would have done so, but their words were unanswered, and they began to grope around, but soon found they were alone-the presence had glided away as noiselessly as it came. The effect on their spirits was nevertheless as- suring, though from whence the phantom came, or what its portent, was all mystery. Their sinking courage was raised a little ; but what could it all mean ?
That night they slept by turns, and with rising hopes, and nothing occurred to cause the least alarm. The next day passed very much as the preceding one had done, with the exception that all was silent around the mountain. Various questions were considered and dismissed in turn. Had the Indians abandoned the siege, under the belief that mysterious spirits were aiding the spies by shooting from the recesses of the rocks; for the occurrences of the previous day were as mysterious to the scouts as to the Indians themselves. On the other hand, had the besiegers settled down on the plan of simply guarding the passes until their prisoners, impelled by starvation, should come down, or ended their lives by slow death. And thus passed the second day.
The third night covered the mountain with the usual sombre shades and quiet, and the scouts took their seats on the rocks where the strange visitor found them the night before, resolved to await patiently what might be in store for them, for that some mysterious agency was at work in their behalf they could no longer doubt. Less than one hour elapsed, when a dark shadow noiselessly glided up to the place where they were seated, depositing at their feet a package, accompanied with the whispered words, " Put on these clothes instantly, and be prepared to follow me." Within less than five minutes, apparently two full-robed Wyandot warriors were following their strange guide across the top of the mount towards its northern margin, with cat-like steps. Hand-in- hand the three figures entered a secret passage beneath the dense laurel bushes with which the rocks were overgrown. So narrow and steep in its descent was this fissure, that they were compelled to creep, rather than walk, the guide in ad- vance, and all shrouded in Egyptian darkness. Not a sound was uttered ; scarcely a breath could be heard as they slowly descended the narrow defile. At length, and after the lapse of fifteen or twenty minutes, the three forms emerged into
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the open space at the northern base of the mount, and as noiselessly glided down the slope of some forty or fifty feet. They were now under the cover of the dense thicket of under- growth, and at least a hundred yards away from the point of immediate danger. A brief whispered council was now held, when the trio started on a circuitous route of more than two miles, and at about eleven o'clock entered Tarhe Town, easily passing the pickets with the pass-word.
The Indians were all slumbering, and, after a little peram- bulating through the dark camp, the south line was passed in safety, and the fugitives were making swift flight down the Hocking, and before daylight were far beyond immediate danger. In the meanwhile, the body of the Wyandot war- riors were closely environing Mount Pleasant.
The girl's story was briefly as follows: She had been cap- tured by the Indians near Marietta, about three years before, when she was about thirteen years of age. During the two days and nights of the siege of Mount Pleasant, she had mingled as freely with the savages as before, representing to them that she had escaped from the scout at the Cold Spring, while he was in the act of drowning the old squaw. The rifle with which she picked off the three Indians who were in the act of attempting to gain the summit, she had abstracted from the camp while disguised as a warrior. The two suits of In- dian garb she procured by stealth. The secret passage down the north side of the mount she had discovered while pretend- ing to assist in the siege.
History, or rather traditional history, has it, that this girl subsequently married and became the mother of a family, and lived to a good old age.
Many will remember the thrilling little story of "Forest Rose," which made its appearance in this county something over twenty years ago, in pamphlet form, and which was so generally read. Perhaps no novel, or romance, of its class, ever attracted more attention, or was more widely circulated. It is still in the market, and new editions are being called for. The Mount Pleasant scouts and the rescue at the Cold Spring was the text of Forest Rose. It was written by Emer- son Bennet, then of Cincinnati, but now of Philadelphia. The author of this volume having made the acquaintance of Mr. Bennet, while a resident of Cincinnati, called his atten-
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tion to the address of General Sanderson in 1844, and at his request sent him a copy, which was unearthed after several weeks' search, and hence " Forest Rose." This was about the year 1849 or 1850.
A PROPHESY.
The following prophetic venture, and its literal fulfillment, will exhibit pretty correctly the onward course of things in the Western country within the last fifty years. But not of the Western country alone-of the world.
In the winter of 1827, the compiler of this volume was the Secretary of a debating school in one of the Western counties of Ohio. We held our meetings in the little brick school- house of the village. The building stood a little out to one side, and near the Methodist Meeting-house.
The railroad idea was just beginning to incubate in the East, and the heresy had got on the wings of the winds- merest inklings of it, and had been wafted to the brains of even some chimerists of the "Far-West." A Yankee had been through the country exhibiting a miniature locomotive on wires stretched across the room, and charging a quarter for the sight. The thing was pronounced a Yankee trick by the con- servative element of the community. Three-fourths of the people were conservative then; in fact, radicalism scarcely dared show its face.
We had a Captain Brown among us. He was voted a vis- ionist-a castle-builder. It has since appeared that he was one who let his mind run off in all directions ; a man who did not believe that things were finished, or that the acme of knowledge and the ultimatum of invention were reached.
At one of the meetings he made a speech-a railroad speech. He said the time was coming, and not far off, when railroads would be laid all over the West, and that people would yet travel fifteen miles an hour by steam. He said there would some day be a railroad from Cleveland to Cincinnati, and it would not pass far from that spot.
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The meeting was largely attended that night, including ladies and many of the older and staid citizens.
A couple of days subsequently I received the following note, signed by a dozen of the solid men of the neighborhood, with a request that it should be read at the next debating school :
" You are welcome to the use of the school-house to debate all proper questions, but such things as railroads are impossi- bilities, and are impious, and will not be allowed. "
I read the note, and the railroad idea was squelched. Cap- tain Brown did not live to see his prophesy fulfilled, but the railroad station now is within three hundred yards of where the school-house was then.
JUDGES OF COURT.
As before stated, a few gaps in the succession of county offi- cers have occurred, which, from the irregularity and imperfec- tion of records, I have found it impossible to supply. This is . specially true with reference to Judges of the Court between 1812 and 1820. Should any one ever find it necessary to know what years Judges Grimkey or Swan were on the bench (which is scarcely probable), the matter can be determined by reference to early legislation, or election returns at the State Auditor's office.
CONCLUSION.
To the aged citizens of Fairfield County ; to the middle- aged ; and to the young, I address some closing thoughts and reflections. We are approaching the point now where, as authors sometimes say, we must part. But you and I, dear reader, will not part. You have kept my company in my pilgrimage back through the decades of years, to where this now fertile and rich valley and its adjacent country was, to 'use an expression more familar to the ear than comprehended by the mind, a howling wilderness where "nothing dwelt but beasts of prey, or men as fierce and wild as they." Together we have stood mentally in the wilds of the unbroken forests of
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the Hocking Valley, and on Mount Pleasant's lofty summit, and listened to the discordant yells of the untutored savage, the screaming panther, the howling wolf, the barking fox, and the doleful hooting of the big owl, before the first dawnings of civilization shed their cheering rays over scenes that "long in darkness lay." But we stood on the boundaries of a barren waste of desert ; a desert into which no Anglo-Saxon eye ever peered-the desert of the past unknown and unnumbered years, for there was nothing to mark the drifting cen- turies. The untaught children of the forest put up no monu- ments-left no chronicles-nothing to tell whence they came or how long they inhabited the land. The few vague tradi- tions they were found to possess pointed to nothing-nothing the trained mind could take hold of to link with the far-back. All, to the coming white race, was only darkness-oblivion. Who lived here a thousand years ago? What could the eye have seen ? The question can never be answered.
Dimly we have contemplated the youth, John Kieth, trad- ing with the Wyandots at the foot of Mount Pleasant, one hundred and fourteen years ago. We imagine him in the act of exchanging trinkets with the swarthy denizens of the forest for their peltries and furs. And then we have seen him parting with his employer, as the latter left to return to Fort Pitt to exchange his skins for a fresh stock of goods, and then return and send the youth, Kieth, back to South Carolina under Indian escort. And we have seen the young man's hopes all blasted by being compelled to accept adoption into the Indian life, or die; the remnant of goods confiscated by the savages, and then the breaking up of the camp, and the departure, when Mount Pleasant and all the valley became for the time a solitude. Whether the trader ever returned, or whether he subsequently learned the future career of John Kieth, we can never be permitted to know. The curtain drops.
Further on we have found the Hocking Valley teeming with savages, for the Wyandots were a cruel and bloodthirsty tribe. We mentally stand upon Mount Pleasant (then the Standing Stone) and in imagination watch the maneuvering about Camp Tarhe Town in the distance, while the smoke from the bark-covered wigwams curls up through the plumb- bushes and rests quiescently among the tree-tops. Here and
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there the mind takes in the conception of strolling squads of warriors skulking through the forests, followed by their shaggy spaniels or insignificant fistes, and anon a line of riders coursing along in single file, now and then coming into view as they pass the open space, occasionally screaming out their thrilling war-whoop. Meanwhile, the squaws lounge about the tents, or busy themselves with the drudgery. But as yet the voice of the white man has not come to these solitudes. We are obliged to keep ourselves concealed and our voices silent, for our discovery would be our doom, because there are no strong arms nor humane beings within hundreds of miles who could save us from a terrible fate.
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