USA > Ohio > Greene County > History of Greene County : together with historic notes on the Northwest, and the state of Ohio, gleaned from early authors, old maps and manuscripts, private and official correspondence, and all other authentic sources > Part 39
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In the year 1773, white men visited this place for the purpose of conciliating the Indians, and establishing amicable relations between the aboriginal owners of the soil and themselves. To this end, Captain Bullet, we are informed, came down the Ohio from Vir- ginia, to form a settlement in Kentucky. Leaving his companions on the river, he traveled through the wilderness to Old Chillicothe, to gain the consent of the Indians. Alone, bearing a white flag, he entered their town before he was discovered. Struck with admira- tion at his temerity, the Indians gathered around him, when, ac- cording to Burnett, the following dialogue ensued :
Indian Chief .- What news do you bring? Are you from the Long-knife ? If you are an ambassador, why did you not send a runner ?
Bullet .- I have no bad news. The Long-knife and the red men are at peace, and I have come among my brothers to have a friend- ly talk with them about settling on the other side of the Ohio.
Indian Chief .- Why did you not send a runner?
Bullet .- I had no runner swifter than myself; and as I was in
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haste, I could not wait the return of a runner. If you were hungry, and had killed a deer, would you send your squaw to town to tell the news, and wait her return before you would eat ?
This illustration delighted the Indians, and unbending from their native stoicism, they responded with a hearty laugh, and conduct- ing their visitor to the principal wigwam, feasted him with venison ; and after smoking with him the pipe of peace, he addressed them as follows :
BROTHERS :- I am sent with my people, whom I left on the Ohio, to settle the country on the other side of that river, as low down as the falls. We came from Virginia. . I only want the country to settle, and to cultivate the soil. There will be no objection to your hunting and trapping in it as heretofore. I hope you will live with us in friendship.
In reply, the principal chief arose and said :
BROTHER :- You have come a hard journey through the woods and the grass. We are pleased to find that your people, in settling our country, are not to disturb us in our hunting; for we must hunt to kill meat for our women and children, and to have some- thing to buy powder and lead, and procure blankets and other necessaries. We desire you will be strong in discharging your promises toward us, as we are determined to be strong in advising our young men to be kind, friendly, and peaceable toward you.
Having concluded his friendly mission, Captain Bullet returned to his companions, descended the river to the falls, and began his settlement.
Under very different circumstances was the advent of the next white man.
About the year 1777, Colonel Bowman sent Simon Kenton and two other men, Montgomery and Clark, on a scouting expedition to the old Shawanoes town, (now Oldtown,) on the Miami. Stealth- ily approaching the town at night, they observed a number of horses in an inclosure. These at the time were inestimable prizes, and forgetting their mission, they each mounted a horse, and, to cripple all pursuit, tied the others together, and started toward the Ohio. The Indians soon discovered their loss, and started in hot pursuit, and though at a distance, still followed the trail. When Kenton and his party arrived at the banks of the Ohio, they found it so rough that the horses would not venture in. A council was held, and in view of the great distance between them and their
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pursuers, it was resolved to remain until sunset, and await the probable abatement of the wind. On the contrary, however, the gale increased, and by night the river was absolutely impassable.
In the morning, while Kenton was standing some distance from his comrades, he observed three Indians and a white man approach- ing him on horseback. His rifle was at once to his eye, and aiming at the breast of the foremost Indian, he pulled the trigger; but the gun missed fire. Kenton made good use of his legs, but was soon caught, bound, and brought back. The Indians were very angry at the loss of their horses, and manifested their displeasure in no gentle way, by seizing Kenton by the hair, and shaking him " till his teeth rattled; " scourging him over the head with thir ramrods, at every blow hissing through their teeth, " Steal Indian hoss, hey !" At this juncture Montgomery came bravely to his assistance, when two savages emptied their rifles into his breast, and he fell on the spot, and in a moment his bloody scalp was shaken in the captive's face, with threats of a similar fate. In the meantime Clark, unob- served by the Indians, who were giving Kenton their sole attention, slipped away and escaped.
Kenton was thrown upon his back, his face to the sun, his neck fastened to a sapling by a halter, his arms stretched to their full , extent, and pinned to the ground by stakes, his legs forced apart and secured in the same way. A stick was placed across his breast, and each end fastened to the ground, so that he could not move his body. This was done, too, in the most accomplished style of savage cruelty-kicks, cuffs, and blows, accompanied with imprecations of " a tief," " a hoss steal," ",a rascal," "a squaw," etc., prefixed always with " damn." In this uncomfortable condition, Kenton remained all day and the next night. In the morning, the Indians having collected their scattering horses, selected one of the wildest and most vicious colts, placed Kenton upon it, tied his hands behind him, and his feet under its belly, and started him ahead of them, through the thick woods and brambles, on their return. At night they halted, and untying their prisoner, who was now bloody and scarred from the scratches of the brush and brambles, placed him in the same uncomfortable position as the night before.
"Again the horse was brought ; 'Twas but a day he had been caught ; And snorting, with erected mane, And struggling fiercely, but in vain.
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In the full foam of wrath and dread, To me the desert-born was led ; They bound me on, that menial throng, Then loosed him, with a sudden lash- Away ! away ! and on we dash."
The following day, they reached the Indian village of Chillicothe- now Oldtown in this county-on the Little Miami. In the mean- time, a courier had preceeded them, and informed the village of their arrival,every member of which came running to look at the illustrious captive. One of the chiefs, Blackfish, with a stout hick- ory in his hand approached Kenton, and accosted him thus : " You have been stealing our horses, have you ?"
" Yes," was Kenton's bold reply.
" Did Col. Boone tell you to steal our horses ?" "No," answered Kenton, " I did it of my own accord."
Blackfish then applied the hickory so vigorously over the bare head and shoulders of the captive, as to cause the rapid flow of blood, accompanied with the acutest pain. The whole motley crew, con- sisting of nearly two hundred men, women, and children, now sur- rounded him, yelling, hooting, and screaming like the stygian off- spring of the hadean guard, stopping often to beat and kick. him, and calling loudly for his immediate execution at the stake, that their savage eyes might behold the pleasing spectacle. A stake was driven in the ground, and Kenton was firmly lashed to it with rawhide thongs. Piece by piece, the demoniac hags stripped his clothing off, and danced, yelling fiendlishly around, till midnight, when he was released to run the gauntlet next morning.
Nearly three hundred savages of all ages, and both sexes were assembled for the occasion. Stretching away in two parallel lines about six feet apart, the Indians stood armed with axes, clubs, hick- orys, and all sorts of weapons. Between these lines the unfortunate victim, naked, and already bleeding, was compelled to run, with the glimmering prospect of safety in the council house. With his arms above his head, he swiftly flies down the line, receiving at each step, kicks, blows, stripes, and wounds, until, at the lower extremity, he observes two warriors with knives ready to take his life. Breaking through the lines, he rushes for the council house, pursued by the howling redskins. Just as he had reached the town, and the coun- cil house was within his reach, he was confronted by an Indian with his blanket around him, walking leisurely out to the same. Fling-
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ing off his covering, he sprang upon Kenton, who, exhausted, and wounded could but feebly resist, and was soon surrounded by the enraged crowd, who kicked, and scourged him until he was nearly dead. When he had partially recovered, they brought him food and water, and as soon as he was able, they took him to the council house to decide upon his fate. The warriors disposed themselves in a circle, with an old chief in the center. Many speeches were made, some for burning, and some for mercy; but Kenton soon learned from the ferocious glances cast upon him that his fate was sealed. After the deliberations and speeches, the old chief passed the war club to the nearest warrior, and with a knife and stick prepared to register the votes. Those who were in favor of death, struck the ground violently with the club, those to the contrary passed it on ; a notch was cut on one side for death, and on the op- posite for mercy. It was soon decided in favor of death, at which one prolonged shout arose.
The next question was, when and where should the execution take place. Some were in favor of immediate action, and some de- sired to make it a "solemn national sacrifice." It was finally decided, however, that the place should be Waughcotomoco (now Zanesfield, Logan County).
On the way to this place, Kenton determined to make an effort to escape, knowing his fate could be no worse. At a favorable moment he rushed into the woods with such desperate swiftness that had he not stumbled upon a party of red skins on horseback he would have escaped. All hope now left him, and he felt de- serted by God and man. At Piqua he was mockingly tied to the stake. At Waughcotomoco he ran the gauntlet again, and was severely hurt.
While sitting in gloom among his enemies in the council house, the door was opened and Girty, with his prisoners and scalps, ap- peared. The anxious gaze of Kenton was met by scowls of savage hatred. Previous to this, it is related that Kenton, after his at- tempted escape, had been given up to the boys and women, who rolled him in the mud and water until he was nearly suffocated, then he was taken out and his face painted black, signifying his fate. In this condition, Girty, who had formerly been his bosom companion, did not recognize him, until in conversation he reveal- ed his name ; when the hardened wretch, who had murdered men, women, and children, threw himself in his arms, and with tears in
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his eyes, promised to use every effort to save his life. He immedi- ately called a council, and earnestly pleaded for the life of his friend. Speeches for and against were made, and the scale hung doubtful, until the fiery eloquence of Girty prevailed, and Kenton was saved.
He remained with his liberator for some time, until the return of a disappointed war party, which took possession of him again, and despite the appeals of Girty, condemned him to the stake, and compelled him again to run the gauntlet. Girty came to him, and told him he must die. A halter was then placed around his neck, and he was led toward the place of execution. On the road they passed an Indian sitting smoking on a log, directing his wife in her efforts at chopping, who on sight of Kenton, seized the ax, and struck him a severe blow. He was sharply rebuked by the Indian guards, for trying to destroy their material for torture.
On their journey, they stopped at the village of the humane Logan, who immediately sent runners to Sandusky (his intended place of execution), to intercede for his life, but on their return, Logan in- formed him that he must go instantly to Sandusky. Thus was his poor soul harrowed with hope and fear. On his arrival, an Indian agent named Druyer, at the instigation of Logan, purchased him of the Indians, and in a speech, persuaded them to let him go to De- troit, where he remained till the following June, when he, with others escaped from the British. In this perilous adventure, he was forced to run the gauntlet eight times, tied to the stake three times, beaten and kicked, and struck with an ax, rolled and wallowed in the mud, and yet his powerful constitution resumed its wonted vigor when released, and he lived to the age of eighty-one.
About the year 1778, during the investment of Boonesborough, the want of salt created great suffering. Boone selected about thirty companions, and started for the salt springs on the Licking River about a hundred miles north. His narrative is so character- istic, that we subjoin it here.
"On the 7th of February, as I was hunting to procure meat for the company, I met a party of one hundred and two Indians, and two Frenchmen on their march against Boonesborough; this place being particularly the object of the enemy. They pursued, and took me, and brought me the eighth day to the Licks, where twenty- seven of my party were, three of them having previously returned home with the . salt. I, knowing it was impossible for them to
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escape, capitulated with the enemy, and at a distance in their view, gave notice to my men of their situation, with orders not to resist, but surrender themselves captives.
" The generous usage the Indians had promised before in my capi- tulation, was afterwards fully complied with, and we procceded with them as prisoners to Old Chillicothe, the principal Indian town on the Little Miami (now Oldtown, in this county), where we arrived after an uncomfortable journey in very severe weather, on the 18th of February, and received as good treatment as prisoners could ex- pect from savages."
It is related that Boone told a friend of his, that on this journey their supply of food became exhausted, and that they killed, and devoured all their dogs, and after this lived ten days on a decoction made from the inner white oak bark, which, after drinking, he could travel with any of them. Finally they killed a deer, and with that precaution taught by nature, boiled its entrails to a jelly, and drank it freely to prepare their stomachs for more substantial food. They offered it to Boone, but his stomach revolt- ed, until they forced him to drink about half a pint which acted freely as a cathartic. The grimaces he made in swallowing it afford- ed much amusement to the savages, who we may imagine exclaim- ed. "No like much, heap no good." After his medicine had oper- ated well, they allowed him to eat, informing him, that had he done so before, it would have killed him.
"On the 10th of March following," says he, "I and ten of my men were conducted by forty Indians to Detroit, where we arrived the thirteenth day, and were treated by Governor Hamilton, the British commander at that post, with great humanity. During our travels, the Indians entertained me well, and their affection for me was so great, that they utterly refused to leave me there with the others, although the governor offered them one hundred pounds sterling for me, on purpose to give me a parole to go home. Several English gentlemen there being sensible of my adverse fortune, and touched with humane sympathy, generously offered a friendly sup- ply for my wants, which I refused with many thanks for their kind- ness, adding, that I never expected it would be in my power to recompense such unmerited generosity."
By reason of the material aid rendered by the Indians, in their war against the colonies, the British dared not go to a length that would in any way displease them. They had taken a particular
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fancy to Boone, whose peculiarly quiet disposition pleased them, whose prowess as a hunter they admired, whose superior skill in all the artifices of border warfare was fully appreciated by them, and they indulged the hope, that by kind treatment they could in- duce him to live with them.
After remaining ten days in Detroit, having disposed of all their prisoners for a ransom, except Boone, they began the long and weary return, bringing him with them, to Old Chillicothe, on the Little Miami, in. this county. In the language of one narrator, " The country they traversed, now so full of wealth, activity, and all the resources of individual and social happiness, was then a vast wilderness, silent and lonely. Still, in its solitude it was very beau- tiful, embellished with fertile plains, magnificent groves, and crystal streams." At Chillicothe he was formally adopted into the family of Blackfish, one of the most noted chiefs of the Shawanoes tribe.
We resume his own narrative. "At Chillicothe," he says, "I spent my time as comfortably as I could expect. I was adopted, according to their custom, into a family where I became a son, and had a great share in the affections of my new parents, brothers, sisters, and friends. I was exceedingly familiar and friendly with them, always appearing as cheerful and satisfied as possible, and they put great confidence in me. I often went hunting with them, and frequently gained their applause for my activity at our shoot- ing matches. I was careful not to excel them when shooting, for no people are more envious than they in their sport. I could ob- serve in their countenances and gestures the greatest expressions of joy when they exceeded me, and when the reverse happened, of envy. The Shawanoes king took great notice of me, and treated me with profound respect and entire friendship, often trusting me to hunt at my liberty. I frequently returned with the spoils of the woods, and as often presented some of what I had taken to him, expressive of my duty to my sovereign. My food and lodging were in common with them; not so good, indeed, as I could desire, but necessity makes everything acceptable."
The spirit of contentment and friendship manifested by Boone, was not solely the result of artifice; for their kind and generous treatment of him, and his knowledge of the many wrongs they had suffered at the hands of the white man, had implanted a feel- ing of real sympathy for them in his bosom. Yet all this could not make him one of them. His thoughts were of his home, and
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the loved ones there, and his mind was ever active in thinking of escape.
The process of adoption as performed by the Indians was both ludicrous and severe. First, the patient was taken to the water and scrubbed from head to foot, to wash all the white blood out; then all his hair, with the exception of a tuft on the crown, was plucked out by the roots. This was allowed to grow long, and was orna- mented with feathers and ribbons. This was the warriors' banner, and when he lost his colors he was emphatically "snatched bald- headed." His face was painted in the highest style of Indian art, after which he was taken to the council house, and addressed by the chief, who, with great ceremony and earnestness, went through the formalities of adoption.
Boone, now, with his painted face, feathers and ribbons, dress, and Indian toggery, was the "noblest Roman of them all," and with his bronze complexion could hardly be distinguished from a veritable redskin. Notwithstanding all this, his captors kept a con- stant though unobtrusive watch over him. They knew that while he was ostensibly contented, it was not human nature to be so; and while they allowed him to hunt alone, they measured his pow- der and counted his bullets. A five days' journey to Boonesborough could not be made without food, and by preventing him from accu- mulating ammunition, he could not procure food. . He, however, circumvented this by cutting his balls in two, and loading with but little powder, thus, little by little, laying away quite a store.
Early in June, they took him with them, about sixty miles east, to a salt "lick" on the Scioto River, for the purpose of making salt. The savages being naturally averse to labor, and Boone having a thorough knowledge of the process, for the double pur- pose of getting the salt and preventing an opportunity of escape, kept him busy over the kettles all the time. After about two weeks' absence, they returned to the Little Miami with a good supply of salt.
On his return, Boone was struck with consternation on learning that during his absence a band of four hundred and fifty of their bravest warriors had been preparing to attack Boonesborough. What must have been that brave man's agony over the impending slaughter of his wife and children ! He knew the post was unpre- pared for an attack, and too weak to resist it. He was compelled to attend their councils with a smiling face, while he was tortured
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with apprehension. He understood every word they said, although he cunningly led them to believe he was ignorant of their language. To allay their suspicions, he seemed to enter into their plans and . co-operate with them. The time had come when he must attempt escape at all hazards, and alarm the fort. The least unwary or false move would arouse suspicion and redouble their vigilance; but so adroitly did he conceal his agitation that the Indians, entirely ab- sorbed in their new enterprise, became less watchful.
We copy his biographer : "On the morning of the 16th of. June, Boone arose very early to take his usual hunt. With his secreted ammunition, and the amount allowed him by the Indians for the day, he hoped to be able to save himself from starvation during his flight of five days through the pathless wilderness. There was a distance of one hundred and sixty miles between Old Chillicothe and Boonesborough. The moment his flight should be suspected, four hundred and fifty Indian warriors, breathing vengeance, and in perfect preparation for the pursuit, would be on his track. His capture would almost certainly result in his death by the most cruel tortures, for the infuriated Indians would wreak upon him all their vengeance.
It is, however, not probable that this silent, pensive man, allowed these thoughts to disturb his equanimity. An instinctive trust in God seemed to inspire him. He was forty-three years of age, and in the knowledge of wood-craft and in powers of endurance no Indian surpassed him. Though he would be pursued by sagacious and veteran warriors, and by young Indian braves,-a pack of four hundred and fifty savages following with keener scent than that of the blood-hound, one poor victim,-yet undismayed he entered upon the appalling enterprise. The history of the world perhaps presents but few feats so difficult, and yet so successfully perform- ed; and yet the only record which this modest man makes in his autobiography, of this wonderful adventure is as follows :
" On the 16th, before sunrise, I departed in the most secret man- ner, and arrived at Boonesborough on the 20th, after a journey of one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had but one meal."
It was necessary, as soon as Boone got out of sight of the village, to fly with the utmost speed, to put as great a distance as possible between himself and his pursuers, before they should suspect his attempt at escape. He subsequently learned that as soon as the Indians apprehended that he had actually fled, there was the most
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intense commotion in their camp, and immediately a large number of their fleetest runners and keenest hunters were put upon his trail. He dared not fire a gun. Had he killed any game, he could not have ventured to kindle a fire to cook it. He had secretly pro- vided himself with a few cuts of dried venison, with which he could appease his hunger as he pressed forward by day and-by night, scarcely allowing himself one moment for rest or sleep. His route lay through forests and swamps, and across many streams swollen by recent rains.
At length he reached the Ohio River. Its current was swift and turbid, rolling in a majestic flood half a mile in width, filling the bed of the stream with almost fathomless waters from shore to shore. Experienced as Colonel Boone was in wood-craft, he was not a skillful swimmer. The thought of how he should cross the Ohio had given him much anxiety. Upon reaching its banks he fortunately-may we not say providentially ?- found an old canoe which had drifted among the bushes upon the shore. There was a large hole at one end, and it was nearly filled with water. He succeeded in bailing out the water and plugging up the hole, and crossed the river in safety. Then for the first time he so far in- dulged in a feeling of security as to venture to shoot a turkey, and kindling a fire, he feasted abundantly upon the rich repast. It was the only meal in which he indulged during his flight of five days.
On his arrival at Boonesborough he was welcomed as one risen from the grave. Much to his disappointment, he found that his wife, with his children, despairing of ever seeing him again, had left the fort and returned to the house of her father, in North Carolina. She supposed the Indians had killed him, and, in the language of Boone, "oppressed with the distresses of the country, and bereaved of me, her only happiness, she had undertaken her long and perilous journey through the wilderness." Continues his biographer, " it is gratifying to record that she reached her friends in safety."
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