USA > Pennsylvania > Westmoreland County > History of Westmoreland county, Pennsylvania, Vol. I > Part 11
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 | Part 74 | Part 75 | Part 76 | Part 77
92
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
In Ligonier Valley there was almost a constant warfare between the settlers and the Indians from the earliest settlement till 1792. It was, as we shall learn later, the first stopping place west of the Allegheny moun- tains in our 'county for those who were journeying towards the setting sun in quest of new homes. The first log cabins were erected very near the fort, mostly east of it, in the region now traversed by East Main street, Ligonier. Gradually these cabins spread out, generally locating as near the Forbes Road as possible. These settlers made frequent journeys to the fort. even in times of safety, for there were kept all supplies that could not be raised by the farmer-such as powder, lead, flints for their guns, as well as firearms. These were sent out from the east and kept at the garrison. In return they gave potatoes, grain, and such other products as the garrison stood in need of.
The valley was also a favorite place for Indian depredations, on account of its topography. They could readily approach it unheralded, for it was almost surrounded with uninhabitated mountains. When they had cap- tured families, taken scalps and stolen horses, they could readily pass out northward, crossing the Conemaugh or the Kiskiminetas, and almost at once enter an unbroken forest which practically extended to New York state. This is the reason why the northern end of the valley was more harrassed by the Indians than the southern end.
It has been extremely difficult in dealing with the Indian outrages on our early settlers, to sift the really authentic from the improbable. Of many of them all that can be found is a reference in a letter from some prominent man to the council, giving the number killed or carried away, but nothing of the circumstances surrounding the affair. There were no newspapers then to publish such news, and our ancestors had more import- ant matters to attend to than to describe their enemies. There are many traditions which, if only the romantic was sought, would interest the reader. but most of them are not sufficiently substantiated by surrounding well known facts to be included here. The years of their greatest trouble with the Indians were those of the Revolutionary War. The danger then was so great that families very rarely remained in their houses all year. With the first warning of the presence of Indians, even in the remotest section of the community, they came to the fort or to cabins near it, and remained there till the storm had blown over. From there the husband and sons went daily to their labor on their farms, with their scanty enough lunches tied in a homespun cloth, but they rarely ever went alone. They united, and, from five to twenty, sometimes more, went to one place one day, and to another the next, and so on till the crops were planted or harvested at each place. In this way their force was more formidable than though they had gone each to his own work. This custom of labor held sway long after the Indians were forever banished from this section, and was not uncommon
93
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
even in the middle of the last century. In the early days, it is needless to say, they always took their guns with them, and they often appointed one or more to keep a lookout for an approaching enemy. Their farms were called "deadnings," or "clearings." The first name indicated that the trees of the original forest had been deadened by cutting a ring around their trunks, near the ground, of sufficient depth to prevent the sap from sup- plying the tree. The trees thus treated made but little shade, and the crop grew among them comparatively well. When the trees had been largely cut down and destroyed, the land was called a "clearing," a term still in use in some sections of our county. The first clearings were made near the fort, then they reached up and down the Loyalhanna and up Mill Creek and up the Four Mile Run, so named because its junction with the Loyalhanna was about four miles from the fort.
Even in times of peace, when these settlers remained in their houses, the bolts, bars, window shutters, etc., with which to barricade the cabin against the Indians, should they appear suddenly, were always kept in order. So, too, the house-wife kept a store of provisions against a siege, and, with that in view, many of the old houses were built not near but actually on springs, so that water could be had from a spring in the cellar, in times when all outside communication was cut off. A family thus barricaded could often withstand an attack of three or four Indians, till aid would come to drive them away. Many a red-skin has bitten the dust from the shot of a farmer or his wife through a loophole made for that purpose. The following incidents of Indian warfare do not depend on tradition alone, and can be taken as actual happenings.
Robert Campbell lived with his parents in Fairfield, now Cook township, near the Pleasant Grove church. In July, 1776, he and his brothers Will- iam and Thomas were working in the harvest field and were unguarded, for there had been no rumor of the presence of Indians for some time. Suddenly a party of Indians swooped down on them. The lads started to run home, and this disclosed to the Indians the direction of their cabin, if they did not know it before. The boys being but half grown, were soon overtaken by the Indians, who then divided, one set of them guarding the prisoner boys, while the others went to the Campbell cabin. The mother, with an infant babe in her arms, started to run away, but she was soon overtaken and struck down with one blow from a tomahawk which crushed her skull. In falling she is supposed to have killed her babe. Both were found the next day and were interred in one grave. Both had been scalped. There were left in the cabin three girls, named Polly, Isabel and Sarah, all of whom, with Robert, William and Thomas, taken in the field, were taken away as prisoners. The Indians had stolen their horses and now rode them away. The boys were compelled to walk, but the girls were taken on the horses, each one riding behind an Indian. The youngest of the girls.
94
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
could not stay on the horse, so they killed her with a blow from a toma- hawk and threw her body by the wayside, where it was found a few days afterward. This was about one mile north of their cabin. They travelled northward and crossed the Kiskiminetas below Saltsburg, and then went up through Pennsylvania to New York. There the children were separated. Thomas was sold to an English officer and was afterwards taken to Eng- land. The two girls were kept four years, and then released and returned to the valley. William came back at the close of the Revolution. While Robert was being taken north, he was in charge of a band of Indians who had a good many other prisoners with them. One night a prisoner, a half grown boy, escaped, but was retaken the day following. Shortly after that he again escaped and was again recaptured. The second attempt was not forgiven by the Indians. As soon as he was returned to camp all the prisoners were brought out and the boy was tied to a tree and gradually burned to death and to ashes. This horrible spectacle all prisoners were compelled to witness, perhaps to deter them from attempting to make an escape. After being six years in captivity Robert escaped and in 1782 reached his old home, where he lived the remainder of his days. He was known far and near as "Elder" Robert Campbell, to distinguish him from others of the same name who perhaps were less pious, for he was a leader in the Presbyterian church at Pleasant Grove. He was a most placid tem- pered man, and the progenitor of a large family which has since inhabited Cook and Donegal townships. He is buried in the little cemetery at Pleas- ant Grove.
During the war of the Revolution the Ulery family owned and lived on a farm about two miles south of Fort Ligonier, now owned by Mr. Isaac Slater. Like all other settlers in pioneer days, they stayed in the fort in dangerous times, but even then went out on every possible occasion to plant and harvest their crops. One day in July, Abigail, Elizabeth and Juliann went to a meadow near their log house to rake some new miown hay. At that time there had been no recent word of Indian incursions in the community and therefore the Ulery family was at home and doubtless off their guard. Their house stood near the present Slater farm house. In the midst of their work in the fields the girls were suddenly surprised by Indians, who had stealthily approached them under the cover of the woods beyond, and were nearly upon them before they were discovered. The three girls ran at once towards the house. Abigail, the youngest, was about sixteen years of age, while Elizabeth was eighteen, and the other sister about twenty. The two older sisters easily outran Abigail, but she followed as rapidly as possible. The other sisters doubtless thought she had been captured, for they mistook the sound of her footfalls behind them for those of an Indian pursuer, and put forth every effort to keep ahead of her. The two older girls reached the house, ran in and barred the door.
95
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
. When the younger sister reached the door she was unable to gain admit- tance, those in the inside thinking her to be an Indian pursuer. Without stopping and without making herself known, because of her frightened condition, she ran around the house and up on the higher ground above the house. The Indians were almost within reach of her when she ran from the door and they at once tried to break it in by pushing against it with their united strength. As they were doing this the father of the girls fired through the door and shot an Indian, most likely in the bowels, as he always thought. Being unable to break down the door, and perhaps fearing another shot, the Indians left the house and followed in the direc- tion the young girl Abigail had taken when she ran away. The door
Built by Isaac Slater, busband of Abigail Ulery, about 1800. In this bouse they lived and died. It is situated about two miles south of Donegal. The left hand door is modern.
through which the Indian was shot is a heavy oaken one, and is yet pre- served by the Slater family. The hole through which the Indian was shot is about in its center. The young girl Abigail ran but a short distance until she found a hiding place in a hole in the ground, made by a large tree having been blown out of root. In this depression were many leaves, dropped there by the wind, and with these and with tall weeds and grass she pretty thoroughly concealed herself. She lay there but a few minutes until the Indians came by and stopped to search for her, for they doubtless
96
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
thought she would most likely hide herself in the branches of the fallen tree, and undoubtedly searched more thoroughly among the branches than at the root. She heard one of them say to another to look carefully, for she was certainly there, because he could smell her, and that they would scalp and kill her when they found her. Long years afterwards she told her grandchildren and many others that the greatest trial of her life had been to keep from jumping up and attempting to run away at this instant, which would of course have been fatal to her. She said also that she was in agonizing fear lest her hiding place should be discovered by the movement of the leaves covering her, occasioned by the violent beating of her heart.
But her rescue came from another source. Fortunately for the girl the wounded Indian was moaning bitterly, as though in great agony, and de- manded a great deal of attention from his fellows. This undoubtedly saved her life, for her hiding place must necessarily have been discovered with but little further search. So they took the groaning Indian away, one on - either side supporting him, and left the hidden girl to herself. She at once, when they were out of sight, ran rapidly to the cabin, this time be- ing received into the house and wel- comed with open arms, for the family thought she was lost in cap- tivity or death. The Indians with their wounded comrade went but Door of Ulery log bouse, showing hole through which Indian was shot. Tbis door has been preserved by the Slater family a short distance till they passed over the brow of the hill and were out of sight of the house. There it has always been supposed the Indian died and was buried, for a grave was afterwards found there, and bones supposed to be Indian bones were dug up on the spot many years afterwards by Isaac Slater.
When the Indians once raided a community they did not generally visit the same place again for some time, for the result of an attack was to arouse the neighborhood thoroughly. For their own safety, therefore, the Indians usually skulked away to a new locality where their presence was unheralded. Relying on the expected immunity from further attacks, the family very soon resumed their usual work. Most likely the day following, the two girls, Elizabeth and her older sister, went out to work in the same
97
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
fields again. Fields were small then, and were skirted with large trees and underbrush. Concealed in this way, two Indians approached the cabin and managed to get between it and the girls in the field, thus effectually cutting off their retreat homeward and precluding the possibility of an es- cape such as they had made the day before. Only two of the girls were in the field the second day, their sister Abigail not yet having recovered from her experience of the day before. Elizabeth and Juliann, thus cut off from a place of safety to which they could fly, were easily captured by the Indians. They took them with them at once, going to the southeast, or towards the present location of Brants' school house. The young women were overcome with grief, and were litterly dragged along for about a half a mile. The Indians tried to have the girls accompany them willingly, and held out every inducement in the way of promises of kind treatment and safety if they would do so, then threatening them with instant death if they did not accompany them more cheerfully. The Indians probably thought it necessary for them to 'get out of that community with their captives as soon as possible, lest they be followed by a rescuing party. But the threat of death had less horror for the average pioneer woman than cap- tivity among the savages, and their flight from the community was still retarded by the struggling women. It is probable that both of the girls were barefooted when taken as prisoners, for shoes, in that early period, were rarely ever worn by either men or women when about their work in the summer-time. At all events, the girls soon complained that the thorns and briers were hurting their feet. The Indians then, to make peace with them and to facilitate their journey, gave them each a pair of moccasins. When they were near a rivulet which flows past Brant's school house and thence into the Two Mile Run, the captors became truly savage at the way their progress was delayed by the struggling women, and again asked them to chose between captivity or death. This had probably no effect upon the heart-broken girls except to add to their shrieks of horror and to increase their efforts to escape. The Indians then tomahawked and scalped them both, and left them lying on the hillside in the woods. It is probable that they were impelled to do this because of their fear of pursuit by their father or other rescuing parties of greater strength. The Indians hurried on, but were gone but a short time when they returned, having forgotten to take their moccasins from the feet of the girls. Neither of the girls liad been killed by the blows given them, nor by being scalped. When the Indians returned Juliann was lying on the ground as they had left her, though she was conscious of her surroundings. Elizabeth had unfortu- nately so far recovered that she was sitting up and leaning against a tree. She was killed at once by the Indian sinking his tomahawk through the top of her head. Juliann lay quiet, and heard the one Indian advise the other to make sure of her death by sinking the tomahawk into her brain 7
98
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
too, but with the reply that she was as dead as she would ever be, they pro- cured their moccasins and hastened away.
Not long after their capture their father missed them and turned to search for them. They were not found until the day following. The dead girl was buried perhaps near where the tragedy took place. Juliann was as tenderly cared for as possible at her home and at Fort Ligonier and finally recovered. Her scalp wound never healed over entirely, though we believe that after a year or so it gave her no pain. She was never healthy, but lived most of her life with her sister, Abigail, who at the close of the Revolution, was married to Isaac Slater. Abigail was the grandmother and namesake of the mother of the writer, as well as the grandmother of Mr. Isaac Slater, at present a citizen of Ligonier borough. From them the writer secured this story. They had heard their grand- mother tell it many times. She lived more than three-quarters of a cen- tury after she made her marvelous escape from the Indians, and until her oldest great-grandchildren were nearly full grown, and died October 29, 1855.
Of the capture of Charles Clifford we have a very good account both by tradition and by various writings which confirm it. He resided on Mill Creek, a tributary of Loyalhanna, two and one-half miles northwest of Fort Ligonier. In winter time he and his family stayed in or near the fort, and in the early spring they resumed their work on their clearings. On April 27, 1779, he and two sons went to their land to do some work preparatory to planting their spring crops. When they reached the place of their work they could not find their horses which they had left there the day before to graze over night. The boys set to clearing up the land, and the father went to look for the horses. He first went up to some newly deadened timber tracts near the present town of Waterford, for there he had found them once before when they strayed away. Not finding them there he continued the search, and finally reached the Forbes road leading to the fort, perhaps between Waterford and the present town of Laughlinstown.
Still he could not find his horses, and so concluded to abandon the search and returned to the fort by this road. He had gone down the road but a short distance until he was fired on by five Indians who were concealed behind a log lying by the wayside. None of the balls wounded him severely, though one of them splintered his gunstock and thus cut his face, which bled profusely, though it was only a flesh wound. The Indians ran up to him. wiped the blood from his face, and seemed very glad he was not injured. They told him he would make a good man for them, and that they would take him to Niagara. They took from him his hat, coat, vest and shirt, allowing him to retain his trousers and shoes. One of the Indians cut away the brim from his hat and amused his fel- lows very much by wearing the crown. Another wore his shirt and an- other his vest. They gave him his coat to put on, but to this he objected un-
09
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
less they gave him his shirt also, saying he could not wear a coat without a shirt under it. But they did not take his suggestion kindly, and he was forced to submit, and told to hurry up as they must hasten on their journey. On the long march they treated him much more kindly than one might expect. The whole race was superstitious, and when five of them shot at him at once and failed to kill him, they concluded that he had some power to ward off dangers and might be very useful to them. They did not tie his arms, as was their universal custom even among half-grown boys. At night he slept between two Indians, with a leather strap across his breast, the ends held firmly by the Indians lying on them. As soon as they lay down they slept, but Clifford had too many things to think of to sleep so readily. Gently he drew the one end of the strap from under the Indian by his side and sat up. The moon was shining bright, but there sat an Indian on a log, whose turn it was to watch the camp and keep up the fire. The watch sat silent and motionless as a statue, but the prisoner knew he was awake and would probably make short work of him if he attempted to escape. They had journeyed nearly north from where they captured him. At a point where now the village of Fairfield is located, they were joined by fifty-two other Indians, whose general trend was northward. The chief, Clifford said, had his head and arms covered with silver trinkets. They tore down fences to roast meat, but warily marched a mile or so away from the smoke to eat and prepare a place to rest over night. Clifford had great desire to see the other prisoners and to learn if his sons were among them. They had only one other prisoner, whose name was Peter Maharg. When Clifford found him he was sitting on a log much dejected, too much so to reply to Clifford's salutation, and sat with his head down in perfect silence. As it was learned afterwards he had been taken the same day and while hunting his horses. Maharg had a small dog with him when looking for his horses. He had seen the Indians before they saw him, and was making his escape, but his dog running ahead of him, came run- ning back to his master as soon as he saw the Indians. To the Indian this was all that was necessary. Maharg was taken at once. They further scoured the northern part of the valley for prisoners or booty, but finding nothing that was not guarded they left on the third day for their home, which was near the boundary between Pennsylvania and New York, near the head waters of the Allegheny river. They had thus journeyed about two hundred miles and killed but two people and secured but two prisoners. On their long march homeward they marched by daylight, but always camped an hour or so before sunset. Eight or ten of them guarded the prisoners while the others hunted through the woods. At the camp they generally all met about the same time, and the hunters generally brought in venison, turkey or smaller birds. After the evening meal they lay down after the manner of the first night. After they crossed the Allegheny river
100
HISTORY OF WESTMORELAND COUNTY.
the game became very scarce, perhaps because of the hard winter. They could not shoot even a squirrel. All the party from that on suffered greatly from hunger. At one time for three days they had nothing to eat at all except the tender bark of young chestnut trees. This they cut with their tomahawks and offered it to their prisoners. Each of them refused, and received the consolation of "you fool; you die." They now sent out two swift Indians who went ahead and in three days returned with some other Indians, among them some squaws, and who had beans, dried corn, and dried venison. They gave the two prisoners a fair share of these provisions. The Indians then divided into two parties, and one of them took the dejected Maharg, while the other took Clifford. Maharg was treated most cruelly, most likely because he remained so morose and de- jected, for this from the first disgusted them with him. They made him run the gauntlet, and pounded him so severely that he fell before he had passed the line. The beating he received did not stop when he fell. He never recovered from it, but bore marks from it on his body when he was laid down many years afterwards in his last sleep. Running the gauntlet consisted in passing between two lines of Indians stationed about six feet apart, and the lines the same distance apart. The Indians were provided with clubs, and each had a right to hit the prisoner as he passed. If the prisoner was strong and active he could sometimes escape pretty well, but it was at best a most painful and dangerous ordeal.
Clifford had been from the first under an Indian who claimed him as his servant. After he had become somewhat accustomed to traveling without a shirt, his Indian gave him a shirt and hat. The shirt was cov- ered with blood and had two bullet holes in it, and was probably taken from one of the men whom they had killed. Before he was taken prisoner, Clifford while working among the bushes had badly snagged his foot, and this without care became very painful, and the long marches had brought about inflammation and swelling. On showing it to his particular Indian guardian, he examined it very carefully and then went to a wild cherry tree with his tomahawk and procured some of the inner bark. This he boiled in a small pot and made a syrup with which he bathed the foot, and after laying the boiled bark on the wound bound it up with pieces of a shirt. It very rapidly reduced the swelling and allayed the pain. They kept Clifford six weeks and then delivered him to the British at Montreal. He learned much about their customs and curious manners, and never failed to interest his hearers by a narration of his experience and observations among them. He saw four prisoners running the gauntlet, one of whom was killed. At another time, when a horse had kicked a boy, the animal was at once shot by the father of the lad, and the Indians ate the raw meat of the animal, which they thought very delicious. At Montreal he grew in favor with the officers of the garrison and fared much better than
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.