USA > Ohio > The history of the state of Ohio; from the discovery of the great valley, to the present time > Part 38
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65 | Part 66 | Part 67 | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70 | Part 71 | Part 72 | Part 73
The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Williams, a daughter
-
DUNCAN MC ARTHUR Governor 1830 32.
46I
HISTORY OF OHIO.
twenty-two years of age, a son twenty-one, in very feeble health, and little John. Mr. Williams was a man of mathematical accu- racy of mind, and he reared his cabin by the compass, facing exactly south. Indeed it had two fronts precisely alike, a north and a south. Both of the doors had high, unsteady, and often icy steps, made of round beech logs. A window on each side of the doors was made by sawing a hole through the logs about two feet square. Two narrow strips of wood were placed across so as to divide it into four parts, a foot square each. Over these were pasted a newspaper, saturated with lard. When the sun shone brightly this glazing illuminated the room with a soft and cheerful light. It shut out the wind and shed the rain.
The cabin consisted of one room, twenty-four feet long by eighteen feet wide. There were two beds at the west end. Clap- boards, made of split logs, resting on wooden pins, afforded shelves. Upon these were pewter plates and various vessels of shining tin. A ladder of five rounds occupied one of the corners, by which to climb to the loft above. The chimney occupied nearly the whole of the east end of the cabin. A gun hung on pegs over the north door. For seats, they had four split-bottom chairs, and three three-legged stools. A small looking-glass, eight inches by ten, was also attached to the wall. There was a spinning-wheel in one corner of the room. The floor overhead was of loose clapboards, split from a red oak.
The evenings of this first Winter passed very heavily. There was no work which could be done. They had no tobacco to stem, no corn to shell, no turnips to scrape, and even no hickory nuts to crack. Mr. Williams had brought with him one barrel of flour and a jar of lard. It was a very tempestuous Winter. The wind howled fearfully through the gigantic tree-tops. The family were often greatly alarmed from the apprehension that some of those giants of the forest might come crushing down upon them.
"The monotony of the time," writes Mr. Williams, " for several of the first years, was broken and enlivened by the howl of wild beasts. The wolves howling around us, seemed to moan their inability to drive us from their long and undisputed domain. The bears, panthers and deers seemingly got miffed at our approach, and but seldoin troubled us. When Spring was fully come, and our little patch of corn, three acres, put in among the beech roots, which, at every step, contended with the shovel plow for the
462
HISTORY OF OHIO.
right of soil, and held it, too, we enlarged our stock of conveniences. As soon as the bark would peel we could make ropes and bark boxes. These we stood in great need of, as such things as bu- reaus, stands, wardrobes, and even barrels, were not to be had.
"The manner of making ropes of linn bark was, to cut the bark in strips of convenient length, and water-rot it, in the same man- ner as rotting flax or hemp. When this was done, the inside bark would peel off, and split up so fine as to make a pretty considera- ble rough and good-for-but-little kind of rope. We made two kinds of boxes for furniture. One kind was of hickory bark, with the outside shaved off. This we would take off all around the tree, the size of which would determine the caliber of our box. Into one end we would place a flat piece of bark, or puncheon, cut round to fit in the bark, which stood on end, the same as when on the tree. There was little need of hooping, as the strength of the bark would keep that all right enough."
They settled on beech land, which required a great deal of labor to clear. Instead of cutting down the forest, they merely girdled the large trees, leaving them standing. The underbrush and sap- lings were cut down, gathered in piles, and burned. The land was very rich, and would produce astonishing crops of corn, grow- ing up in the midst of the gnarled roots. Mr. Williams had a horse, a cow, and two sheep. They were fed mainly from the blades of corn. Salt was so scarce, costing five dollars a bushel, that they could seldom afford to use it. They had no candles. For light they relied mainly upon the fire blazing upon the hearth. They used also seasoned sticks and the bark of hickory.
It is said that one of the more prominent features of this life in the wilderness was its solemn, almost awful, silence. Singing birds love the companionship of men. Seldom was a bird song heard amidst the glooms of the forest. The midnight howl of the wolf, and the screech of the owl, seemed but to intensify the gen- eral silence. Even the dog, listless at the cabin door, hearing no sound to rouse him, forgot to bark. Indeed, in the days when Indians were prowling about, he was taught not to bark, lest the noise should guide the savage to the lonely cabin. Occasionally, the melancholy croak of the raven might be heard, or the tap of the woodpecker on the hollow tree, or the gobble of the wild tur- key. Speaking of this period of the history of Ohio, Mr. Atwater writes :
463
HISTORY OF OHIO.
"Our houses were logs, not always laid very close together. Before our people had time to clear fields, that would produce a harvest, the woods furnished nuts, on which their hogs fed and fattened. The wild grasses fed the cattle and horses abundantly, Winter and Summer. Better beef or sweeter pork never was tasted than the wild grasses and the nuts fattened, in almost all parts of this now State of Ohio. Many of our old settlers mourn the loss of that breed of hogs which ran wild in the woods and lived on nuts, acorns, and wild roots. The beef, too, of that period, the old settlers think, was sweeter and more like wild ani- mal's flesh than ours now is.
"In this opinion, we agree with them. The honey of those days was made by wild bees. The Indians abundantly procured it, and often sold it to our people. Our sugar was made from the maple tree, and not a few of us, even now, prefer it to that which, at a low price, we obtain from Louisiana. Wild turkeys were abundant. They were so easily taken that they sold in market for only twelve and a half cents each. A good deer sold for one dollar, or even less. Hogs were almost as easily raised as the deer. Thousands were never seen by their owner until he went out with his gun to kill them."
The majority of the settlers, at this time, were very worthy men, though, of course, there were not a few adventurers roving these wilds, of a very different character. Though the emigrants en- dured many privations after the horrors of Indian warfare had terminated, they seem to have been, in most cases, eminently happy. One of these pioneers, after he attained the luxuries to be found in a dense population, writes :
" When I look back upon the first few years of our residence here, I am led to exclaim, 'O happy days of primitive simplicity !' What little aristocratic feeling any one might have brought with him, was soon quelled; for we soon found ourselves equally de- pendent on one another. We enjoyed our winter evenings around our blazing hearths, in our log huts, cracking nuts, full as much, yes, far better, than has fallen to our lot since the distinctions and animosities, consequent upon the acquisition of wealth, have crept in upon us."
One incident, which occurred sometime before the close of the Indian war, deserves record here, as illustrative of retributive jus- tice, and of the peculiar traits in the Indian character. Captain
464
HISTORY OF OHIO.
Charles Builderback was a man of herculean frame, and noted for his recklessness in fighting the Indians. He accompanied the band of renegade white men, in its iniquitous assaults upon the Moravian villages, to which we have before alluded. It will be remembered that, in 1782, Colonel Wilkinson led a band of a hundred desperadoes to Gnadenhutten, where they perpetrated a massacre upon the friendly Moravians almost unparalleled in the annals of Indian war.
This same Captain Builderback accompanied Colonel Crawford in his totally unjustifiable expedition to the Upper Sandusky, to pursue and kill the unoffending Moravian Indians who had taken refuge there. The Indians never forget an injury; and they are very apt to learn and remember the names of those who have in- flicted wounds upon them.
Captain Builderback had reared his cabin on the Virginia shore of the Ohio River, at the mouth of Short Creek, a few miles above Wheeling. One lovely morning in June, he crossed the river to the Ohio shore in a canoe, with his wife and brother, to look after some cattle. Upon reaching the shore, about twenty Indians, rushing from ambush, fired upon them. His brother, though wounded in the shoulder, succeeded in reaching the canve, and escaped. The captain was chased some distance and taken cap- tive. In describing this event, Colonel McDonald writes :
"In the meantime Mrs. Builderback secreted herself in some drift-wood, near the bank of the river. As soon as the Indians had secured and tied her husband, not being enabled to discover her hiding-place, they compelled him, with threats of immediate death, to call her to him. With the hope of appeasing their fury, he did so.
"' Here,' to use Mrs. Builderback's words, 'a struggle took place in my breast, which I cannot describe. Shall I go to him and become a prisoner, or shall I remain, return to our cabin, and provide for and take care of our two children?'
" He shouted to her a second time to come to him, saying that, if she obeyed, it would perhaps be the means of saving his life. She no longer hesitated ; but left her place of safety, and surren- dered herself to his savage captors. All this took place in full view of their cabin, on the opposite shore, and where they had left their two children, one a son, about three years of age, and an infant daughter. The Indians, knowing that they would be pur-
465
HISTORY OF OHIO.
sued as soon as the news of their visit reached the stockade at Wheeling, immediately commenced their retreat. Mrs. Builder- back and her husband traveled together that day and the follow- ing night. The next morning the Indians separated into two bands. One band took Captain Builderback and the other his wife, and each party continued the journey westward, by different routes."
Mrs. Builderback was taken to a large Indian encampment on the Tuscarawas River. Here she was soon joined by the party who had taken her husband in charge. But he was no longer with them. Brutally they tossed his scalp into her lap, which she instantly recognized. That dreadful night the Indians held a fiend-like carouse, and their hideous yells awoke all the echoes of the forest. Poor Mrs. Builderback, utterly exhausted with fatigue, sleeplessness and anguish, fell soundly asleep, and for a few hours God mercifully granted her the oblivion of all her suf- ferings.
The Tuscarawas River is one of the upper tributaries of the Muskingum. It was on the banks of the latter stream, but a few miles below the encampment, that the innocent Moravians were slaughtered. In that massacre the first blood was shed by Cap- tain Builderback. He shot down a Moravian chief by the name of Shebosh, and then tomahawked and scalped him. The In- dians, who were leading their captive, passed very near the spot where this cruel tragedy was enacted. One of them chanced to ask his name. For a moment he hesitated. Then knowing that they would learn it from his wife, and not deeming it possible that they could know anything of his previous history, he replied, Charles Builderback.
Instantly the little band stopped and looked at each other with astonishment and with malignant triumph. "Ah!" said one of them, "Charles Builderback! You kill many Indians. You big captain. You kill Moravians." His doom was sealed. These untutored savages deemed it a religious duty which they owed the spirits of their slaughtered brethren to punish their slayer with death by torture. He was bound to a tree, and demoniac ingenuity was exercised in drawing from his quivering nerves the utmost possible agony. With the exception of his tormentors, God alone heard his shrieks and witnessed the convulsions of his torment.
466
HISTORY OF OHIO.
As soon as the capture of Builderback was known at Wheeling a party of scouts set out in pursuit of the Indians. They soon struck their trail, and followed it until they found the charred and mangled body of the victim, presenting appalling indications of the lingering and dreadful death he had endured.
Mrs. Builderback, though her mental sufferings were severe, was treated humanely. The Indians took her to the upper waters of the Great Miami. Here she was adopted into the family of a chief, and was required to perform all that drudgery which was usually exacted of squaws. She carried, upon her shoulders, meat from the hunting-grounds, cut it up and dried it, made moccasins and leggins, and other clothing. In this captivity, hearing nothing of the fate of her family, she continued for sev -. eral months.
At length a friendly Indian informed the commandant at Fort Washington that there was a white woman in captivity in one of the Miami towns. Upon the payment of a liberal ransom she was brought to the fort and surrendered. Speedily she was sent up the river to her lonely and desolated cabin and to her orphan children. Without loss of time she took her two children and re-crossed the mountains to her parental home in Lancashire County, in Virginia.
It may be mentioned, as illustrative of the vicissitudes of this strange earthly life, and of the recuperative energies of the human soul, that after the lapse of two years she married Mr. John Green. With her husband and family she again crossed the mountains, and found a pleasant and prosperous home in the beautiful Valley of the Hockhocking, where peace and plenty reigned. Here, almost forgetful of the woes of her early life, she lived for nearly half a century, not dying until about the year 1842.
The following account of the escape of Mr. John Davis from the Indians, is but one among many similar adventures which might be told. We give the narrative mainly as it has been des- cribed by Colonel John McDonald. Mr. Davis, while hunting on the Big Sandy, with one companion, was surrounded at his camp fire, in the night, by about thirty warriors, and was taken captive.
The Indians were returning from an unsuccessful attack upon one of the white men's stations upon the Big Sandy. They had several of their wounded with them. They had succeeded, here and there, in accumulating considerable plunder, and the horses
467
HISTORY OF OHIO.
which they had stolen were heavily laden. They consequently did not travel more than ten or twelve miles a day.
Mr. Davis was well aware that the Indians often put their cap- tives to death by the most horrible tortures, Many circumstances led him to the conviction that he was reserved for that fate. He doubted not that as soon as they should reach their distant towns, the tribe would be assembled, he would be bound to the stake, and the savages would have a gala day in inflicting upon him the most awful torments. He, therefore, resolved to attempt an escape, even under the most desperate circumstances, preferring much to die by the bullet or from a sudden blow of the tomahawk than by lingering tortures at the stake.
The Indians, having swam their horses across the Ohio River, on their journey, came to a small stream, called Salt Creek, in the present County of Jackson. Here they encamped for the night. Their mode of securing their prisoners seemed to render an escape impossible. A strong rope or thong was cut from the raw hide of a buffalo; this they tied around the prisoner's waist. The two ends were then tied each around the waist of an Indian. Thus the prisoner, at the encampment, laid down upon the ground with these Indians on each side of him, and in the closest proximity. He could not turn at all; he could not move even without dis- turbing the Indians, and receiving from them cruel blows.
In the morning, as they resumed their journey, the captives were released from this most uncomfortable confinement. With their hands bound behind them, and an Indian armed with rifle and tomahawk before and behind each one, they trudged along in single file through the narrow trail. They were told that instant death would be the consequence of any attempt to leave the line of march.
During the long hours of the night, Davis lay in his uncomfort- able position, brooding over the awful fate which awaited him. As the day began to dawn he hunched one of the Indians, and by signs requested to be untied. The savage raised his head and looked around, and seeing that it was still quite dark, and that no Indians were yet moving, gave him a severe blow with his fist, and told him to lay still.
Fire and faggot, sleeping or awake, were constantly floating be- fore his mind's eye. The torturing suspense would fill his soul with horror. After some time a number of Indians rose up and
468
HISTORY OF OHIO.
made their fires. It was growing light, but not light enough to draw a bead. Davis again jogged one of the Indians to whom he was fastened, and said that the tug hurt his middle, and again requested the Indian to untie him. The Indian looked around, and seeing that it was getting light, and that there were a number of Indians about the fires, untied him.
Davis rose to his feet. The doom before him nerved him with the energies of despair. He resolved upon an immediate attempt to escape, whatever the result might be. It was morning twi- light ; chill, cheerless and foggy. Some of the Indians were still sleeping. Others were moving about, kindling fires and prepar- ing breakfast. The two Indians to whose guard he was intrusted still stood at his side. As Davis looked around and saw how desperate was the undertaking to escape, his heart throbbed vio- lently, and, for a moment, even his eyesight began to fail him.
The Indians had placed a pole between two forked sticks, and had stacked their guns so that they could grasp them at any mo- ment. These guns were but a few yards behind where Davis stood. Quite a group of Indians were before him, moving around the fire. Should he start back to plunge into the forest, the In- dians, as they rushed after him, could easily seize a gun by the way. Should he make a bold and vigorous plunge directly through the midst of them, they would have to run back for their guns. This would give the captive a little advantage in the race, especially as the morning light was dim and a thick mist hung over the gloomy landscape.
All this passed through his mind in a moment. Summoning all the frenzied energies of despair, he made the plunge. One stout Indian who stood directly in his way he struck such a blow with his clenched fist as to prostrate him sprawling in the fire. With the speed of an antelope he sprang into the forest. The Indians, inured to such surprises, were instantly on the pursuit. The somber forest echoed with their yellings. But he was soon out of sight among the gigantic trees, and no one could get a shot at him. The pursuers, knowing the direction in which he had fled, put their swiftest runners on his trail, and for some time the demoniac howlings of the savages were so near that the fugitive had but little hope of escape. But if overtaken he resolved, if possible, not to be taken alive.
At length he felt conscious that he was gaining ground upon
469
HISTORY OF OHIO.
the savages. He could no longer hear the twigs break beneath their footsteps, and their whoops and yells sounded more distant. Reaching the summit of a long, sloping ridge, he looked back for the first time, and, to his inexpressible joy, could see no foe. But his feet were terribly torn by thorns and gashed by the sharp stones over which he had heedlessly rushed. He sat down, took off his waistcoat, tore it into two pieces, and bound them around his feet for moccasins.
His flight was nearly west, hoping to reach the Scioto River, and to follow that down to the Ohio. He would then, in some: way, paddle himself across the river and regain his home in Ken- tucky. Through indescribable sufferings he at length reached the Scioto, near where Piketown now stands. Here he crossed the stream. As there were Indian villages on the banks of the river he kept several miles back from the stream, moving every step of the way with the utmost caution. He reached the majestic flood of the Ohio on the Ist of January, about eight miles below the mouth of the Scioto. For three days and two nights he had toiled through the wilderness without food, save such roots as starvation compelled him to eat, and without covering or fire. It is strange that human strength can endure such privations.
It is pleasant to record that "Mr. Davis was an unwavering believer in that All-seeing Eye whose providence prepares means to guard and protect those who put their trust in Him. His con- fidence and his courage never forsook him for a moment during: this trying and fatiguing march."
" When he reached the Ohio," writes Mr. McDonald, "he began to look about for some dry logs to make a kind of raft on which to float down the stream. Before he began to make his raft he looked up the river, and, to his infinite gratification, he saw a Kentucky boat come floating down the stream. He now thought his deliverance sure. Our fondest hopes are frequently blasted in disappointment. As soon as the boat floated opposite: to him he called to the people in the boat, told them of his lam- entable captivity and fortunate escape.
"The boatman heard his tale of distress with suspicion. Many boats, about this time, had been decoyed to the shore by similar tales of woe; and their inmates, as soon as they landed, had been cruelly massacred. The boatmen refused to land. They said that they had heard too much about such prisoners and escapes to be:
470
HISTORY OF OHIO.
deceived in his case. He followed along the shore, keeping pace with the boat as it slowly glided down the stream. The more pitiably he described his forlorn situation, the more determined were the boat's crew not to land for him.
"He at length requested them to row the boat a little nearer the shore, and he would swim to them. To this proposition the boatmen consented. They commenced rowing towards the shore, when Mr. Davis plunged into the freezing water and swam to- wards the boat. Their suspicions now gave way, and they rowed with all their force to meet him. He was at length lifted into the boat almost exhausted. The boatmen were not to blame for their suspicions. They now administered to his relief and comfort everything in their power. The next morning he was landed at Massie's Station, now Manchester, and was soon restored to his friends in health and vigor."
What became of the companion of Mr. Davis, in his captivity, we have not learned. It is terrible to reflect upon the numerous tragedies which occurred during these wars, and which have never been recorded. The human mind sickens with anguish in con- templating many of these scenes too awful to be described. And when the crushed spirit, with sobbing voice, asks, " How long, oh Lord, how long?" The only answer which comes back is, "Be still and know that I am God."
A little boy, Jonathan Alder, was taken captive and adopted into one of the tribes. After he had been with the Indians about a year, they took him with them to the salt works on the Scioto. Here he met a Mrs. Martin, who was also a prisoner. They had many very affecting interviews. In the following artless language the child describes their meeting :
"It was now better than a year after I was taken prisoner, when the Indians started off to the Scioto salt springs, near Chil- licothe, to make salt, and took me along with them. Here I got to see Mrs. Martin, that was taken prisoner at the same time I was; and this was the first time I had seen her since we were separated at the council-house. When she saw me, she came, smiling, and asked me if it was me. I told her it was. She asked me how I had been. I told her I had been very unwell, for I had the fever and ague for a long time.
" So she took me off to a log, and there we sat down; and she combed my head, and asked me a great many questions about
47I
HISTORY OF OHIO,
how I lived, and if I didn't want to see my mother and little brothers. I told her that I should be glad to see them, but never expected to again. She then pulled out some pieces of her daugh- ter's scalp, that, she said, were some trimmings that they had trimmed off the night after she was killed, and that she meant to keep them as long as she lived. She then talked and cried about her family, that was all destoyed and gone, except the remaining bits of her daughter's scalp. We staid here a considerable time, and meanwhile took many a cry together. And when we parted again, took our last and final farewell, for I never saw her again."
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.