USA > Virginia > Tazewell County > Tazewell County > Annals of Tazewell County, Virginia from 1800 to 1922 > Part 34
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*Mr. Moffit had then removed to Kentucky, and was still living there.
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her release. It was decided however, when an opportunity should occur for our returning to our friends, she should be released without remuneration. This was punctually performed, on application of Mr. Thomas Ivans, * who had come in search of his sister Martha, already alluded to, who had been purchased from the Indians by some family in the neighborhood, and was, at that time, with a Mr. Donaldson, a worthy and wealthy English farmer, and working for herself.
"All being now at liberty, we made preparations for our journey to our distant friends, and set out, I think, some time in the month of October, 1789; it being a little more than five years from the time of my captivity, and a little more than three years from the time of the captivity of my sister and Martha Ivins. A trading boat coming down the lakes, we obtained a passage, for myself and sister, to the Moravian towns, a distance of about two hundred miles, and on the route to Pittsburgh. There, according to appointment, we met with Mr. Ivins and his sister, the day after our ar- rival. He had, in the meantime, procured three horses, and we immed- iately set out for Pittsburgh. Fortunately for us, a party of friendly Indians, from these towns, were about starting on a hunting excursion, and accom- panied us for a considerable distance on our route, which was through a wil- derness, and the hunting-ground of an unfriendly tribe. On one of the nights, during our journey, we encamped near a large party of these hostile Indians. The next morning four or five of their warriors, painted red, came into our camp. This much alarmed us. They made many inquiries, but did not molest us, which might not have been the case, if we had not been in com- pany with other Indians. After this, nothing occurred, worthy of notice, until we reached Pittsburgh. Probably we would have reached Rockbridge that fall, if Mr. Ivins had not, unfortunately, got his shoulder dislocated. In consequence of this, we remained until spring with an uncle of his, in the vicinity of Pittsburgh. Having expended nearly all his money in traveling, and with the physician, he left his sister and proceeded on with sister Polly and myself, to the house of our uncle, William McPhaethus, about ten miles south-west of Staunton, near the Middle river. He received, from uncle Joseph Moore, the administrator of father's estate, compensation for his services, and afterward returned and brought in his sister."
Mr. Moore finally returned to Tazewell county, and settled on the lands formerly occupied by his father. He raised a numerous and respectable family, one of whom still resides upon the place. Mr. Moore, the subject of this narrative, lived to an advanced age. He died in September, 1851, in the eighty-first year of his age.
MASSACRE OF CAPT. JAMES MOORE'S FAMILY.
In July, 1786, a party of forty-seven Indians, of the Shawanoes tribe, again entered Abb's valley. Capt. James Moore usually kept five or six loaded guns in his house, which was a strong log building, and hoped, by the assistance of his wife, who was very active in loading a gun, together with Simpson, a man who lived with him, to be able to repel the attack of of any small party of Indians. Relying on his prowess, he had not sought
*This name is spelled wrong, the orthography being Evans.
.
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refuge in a fort, as many of the settlers had; a fact of which the Indians seem to have been aware, from their cutting out the tongues of his horses and cattle, and partially skinning them. It seems they were afraid to attack him openly, and sought rather to drive him to the fort, that they might sack his house.
On the morning of the attack, Capt. Moore, who had previously dis- tinguished himself at Alamance, was at a lick bog, a short distance from his house, salting his horses, of which he had many. William Clark and an Irishman were reaping wheat in front of the house. Mrs. Moore and the family were engaged in the ordinary business of housework. A man, named Simpson, was sick up-stairs.
The two men, who were in the field, at work, saw the Indians con ing, in full speed, down the hill, toward Captain Mocre's, who had ere this dis- covered them, and started in a run for the house. He was, however, shot through the body, and died immediately. Two of his children, William and and Rebecca, who were returning from the spring, were killed about the same time. The Indians had now approached near the house, and were met by two fierce dogs, which fought manfully to protect the family of their master. After a severe contest, the fiercest one was killed, and the other subdued. I shall again use Mr. Brown's narrative, it being quite authentic.
"The two men who were reaping, hearing the alarm, * and seeing the house surrounded, fled, and alarmed the settlement. At that time, the nearest family was distant six miles. As soon as the alarm was given, Mrs. Moore and Martha Ivins (who was living in the family) barred the door, but this was of no avail. There was no man in the house, at this time, except John Simpson, the old Englishman, already alluded to, and he was in the loft, sick and in bed. There were five or six guns in the house, but having been shot off the evening before, they were then empty. It was intended to have loaded them after breakfast. Martha Ivins took two and went up stairs where Simpson was, and handing them to him, told him to shoot. He looked up, but had been shot in the head through a crack, and was then near his end. The Indians then proceeded to cut down the door, which they soon effected. During this time, Martha Ivins went to the far end of the house, lifted up a loose plank, and went under the floor, and requested Polly Moore (then eight years of age) who had the youngest child, called Margaret, in her arms (which was crying), to set the child down, and come under. Polly looked at the child, clasped it to her breast, and determined to share its fate. The Indians, having broken into the house, took Mrs. Moore and her children, viz: John, Jane, Polly, and Peggy prisoners, and having taken everything that suited them, they set it and the other buildings on fire, and went away. Martha Ivins remained under the floor a short time, and then came out and hid herself under a log that lay across a branch, not far from the house. The Indians, having tarried a short
*They saw the Indians before a gun was fired, and squatted in the grain till the Indiana sur- rounded the house, and then started: Clark ran directly to Davidson's fort. the Irishman to a settlement creek, on Bluestone, about six miles distant. The Irishman got lost, and coming upon a drove of horses, frightened them. The horses, of course, ran home, and he followed
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time, with a view of catching horses, one of them walked across this log, sat down on the end of it, and began to fix his gunlock. Miss Ivins, suppos- ing that she was discovered, and that he was preparing to shoot her, came out and gave herself up. At this he seemed much pleased. They then set out for their towns. Perceiving that John Moore was a boy, weak in body and mind, and unable to travel, they killed him the first day. The babe they took two or three days, but it being fretful, on account of a wound it had received, they dashed its brains out against a tree. They then moved on with haste to their towns. For some time, it was usual to tie, very se- curely, each of the prisoners at night, and for a warrior to lie beside each of them, with tomahawk in hand, so that in case of pursuit, the prisoners might be speedily dispatched. *
"Shortly after they reached the towns, Mrs. Moore and her daughter Jane were put to death, being burned and tortured at the stake. This lasted some time, during which she manifested the utmost Christian fortitude, and bore it without a murmur, at intervals conversing with her daughter Polly, and Martha Ivins, and expressing great anxiety for the moment to arrive, when her soul should wing its way to the bosom of its Savior. At length an old squaw, more humane than the rest, dispatched her with a tomahawk."
Polly Moore and Martha Evans eventually reached home, as described in the narrative of James Moore.
Several incidents, in this narrative, have been left out. When the Indians set fire to the house and started, they took from the stable the fine black horse Yorick. He was a horse of such a vicious nature, that no one could manage him but Simpson. The Indians had not proceeded far when one mounted him, but soon the horse had him on the ground, and was paw- ing him to death with his feet; for this purpose a few strokes were sufficient. Another mounted him and was served in like manner. Perfectly wild with rage, a very large Indian mounted him, swearing to ride him or kill him; a few plunges and the Indian was under the feet of the desperate horse, his teeth buried in his flesh, and uttering a scream as if he intended to avenge the death of his master; he had just dispatched the Indian, when another running up, stabbed him, and thus put an end to the conflict. "ALAS! POOR YORICK."
It is said that Mrs. Moore had her body stuck full of lightwood splinters which were fired, and she was thus tortured three days, before she died.
When Martha Evans and Polly Moore were among the French, they fared much worse than when among the Indians. The French had plenty, but were miserly, and seemed to care little for their wants. The Indians had little, but would divide that little to the last particle.
A song, in commemoration of the Moore captivity, is sung by some of the mountaineers to this day, but as it is devoid of poetical merit I omit its insertion. It may be seen in Howe's History of Virginia.
CHAPTER VI.
HARMAN AND PEMBERTON FIGHTS-BATTLE BETWEEN THE HARMANS AND SEVEN INDIANS.
In the fall of 17842 Henry Harman and his two sons, George and Mat- thias, and George Draper left the settlement, to engage in a bear hunt on Tug river. They were provided with paek-horses, independent of those used for riding, and on which were to be brought in the game. The country in which their hunt was to take place, was penetrated by the "war-path" leading to, and from the Ohio river; but as it was late in the season they did not expect to meet with Indians.
Arriving at the hunting-grounds in the early part of the evening, they stopped and built their eamp; a work executed generally by the old man, who might be said to be particular in having it eonstrueted to his own taste. George and Matthias loaded, and put their guns in order, and started to the woods, to look for sign, and perchanee kill a buek for the evening's re- past, while Draper busied himself in hobbling and earing for the horses.
In a short time, George returned with the startling intelligence of Indians! He had found a eamp but a short distance from their own, in which the partly consumed sticks were still burning. They could not, of course, be at any considerable distance, and might now be concealed near them, watching their every movement. George, while at the camp, had made a rapid search for sign, and found a pair of leggins, which he showed the old man. Now old Mr. Harman, was a type of frontiermen, in some things, and particularly that remarkable self-possession, which is so often to be met with in new countries, where dangers are ever in the path of the settler. So taking a seat on the ground, he began to interrogate his son on the dimen- sions, appearances, etc., of the camp. When he had fully satisfied himself, he remarked, that "there must be from five to seven Indians," and that they must paek up and hurry back to the settlement, to prevent, if possible, the Indians from doing mischief; and, said he, "if we fall in with them, we must fight them."
Matthias was immediately ealled in, and the horses repacked. Mr. Harman and Draper, now began to load their guns, when the old man ob- serving Draper laboring under what is known among hunters as the 'Buck Ague,' being that state of excitement, which causes excessive trembling, remarked to him, "My son, I fear you cannot fight."
The plan of march was now agreed upon, which was, that Mr. Harman and Draper should lead the way, the paek-horses follow them, and Matthias and George, bring up the rear. After they had started, Draper remarked to Mr. H., that he would get ahead, as he could see better than Mr. H., and that he would keep a sharp lookout. It is highly probable
1Nov. 12th, 1788, is the correct date, as shown by reliable documents.
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that he was cogitating a plan of escape, as he had not gone far before he de- clared he saw the Indians, which proved not to be true. Proceeding a short distance further, he suddenly wheeled his horse about, at the same time crying out, "Yonder they are-behind that log:" as a liar is not to be be- lieved, even when he speaks the truth, so Mr. Draper was not believed this time. Mr. Harman rode on, while a large dog, he had with him, ran up to the log and reared himself up on it, showing no signs of the presence of Indians. At this second, a sheet of fire and smoke from the Indians rifles, completely concealed the log from view, for Draper had really spoken the truth.
Before the smoke had cleared away, Mr. Harman and his sons were dismounted, while Draper had fled with all the speed of a swift horse. There were seven of the Indians, only four of whom had guns; the rest being armed with bows and arrows, tomahawks and scalping-knives. As soon as they fired, they rushed on Mr. Harman, who fell back to where his two sons stood ready to meet the Indians.
They immediately surrounded the three white men, who had formed a triangle, each man looking out, or, what would have been, with men enough a hollow square. The old gentleman bid Matthias to reserve his fire, while himself and George fired, wounding, as it would seem, two of the Indians. George was a lame man, from having had white swelling in his childhood, and after firing a few rounds, the Indians noticed his limping, and one who had fired at him, rushed upon him thinking him wounded. George saw the fatal tomahawk raised, and drawing back his gun, prepared to meet it. When the Indian had got within striking distance, George let down upon his head with the gun, which brought him to the ground; he soon recovered, and made at him again, half bent and head foremost, intending, no doubt, to trip him up. But as he got near enough, George sprang up and jumped across him, which brought the Indian to his knees. Feeling for his own knife, and not getting hold of it, he seized the Indian's and plunged it deep into his side. Matthias struck him on the head with a tomahawk, and finished the work with him.
Two Indians had attacked the old man with bows, and were maneuver- ing around him, to get a clear fire at his left breast. The Harmans, to a man, wore their bullet-pouches on the left side, and with this and his arm he so completely shielded his breast, that the Indians did not fire till they saw the old gentleman's gun nearly loaded again, when one fired on him, and struck his elbow near the joint, cutting one of the principal arteries. In a second more, the fearful string was heard to vibrate, and an arrow entered Mr. Harman's breast and lodged against a rib. He had by this time loaded the gun, and was raising it to his face to shoot one of the Indians, when the stream of blood from the wounded artery flew in the pan, and so soiled his gun that it was impossible to make it fire. Raising the gun, however, had the effect to drive back the Indians, who retreated to where the others stood with their guns empty.
Matthias, who had remained an almost inactive spectator, now asked permission to fire, which the old man granted. The Indian at whom he fired appeared to be the chief, and was standing under a large beech tree. At the
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report of the rifle, the Indian fell, throwing his tomahawk high among the limbs of the tree under which he stood.
Seeing two of their number lying dead upon the ground, and two more badly wounded, they immediately made off; passing by Draper, who had left his horse, and concealed himself behind a log.
As soon as the Indians retreated, the old man fell back on the ground exhausted and fainting from loss of blood. The wounded arm being tied up and his face washed in cold water, soon restored him. The first words he uttered were, "We've whipped, give me my pipe." This was furnished him, and he took a whiff, while the boys scalped one of the Indians.
When Draper saw the Indians pass him, he stealthily crept from his hiding-place, and pushed on for the settlement, where he reported the whole party murdered. The people assembled and started soon the following morning to bury them; but they had not gone far before they met Mr. H., and his sons, in too good condition to need burying.
Upon the tree, under which the chief was killed, is roughly carved an Indian, a bow, and a gun, commemorative of the fight. The arrows which were shot into Mr. Harman, are in possession of some of his descendants.
PEMBERTON'S FIGHT.
Richard Pemberton, the hero of this battle, lived in the Baptist valley, about five miles from Jeffersonville. In addition to a small farm around his cabin, he cultivated a field, now owned by William O. George, about one and a half miles from his dwelling.
On a Sabbath morning late in August, 1788, he started to his field ac- companied by his wife and two children, to see that his fences were not down, and to repair any breach that might have been made. According to the custom of the times, Mr. Pemberton had taken with him his gun, which was his constant companion. After satisfying himself that his crops were safe, the little party started back. They had gone but a few hundred yards, how- ever, when two Indians, armed with bows and arrows, knives, and toma- hawks, came yelling toward them at full speed. In an instant the pioneer's gun was leveled and the trigger pulled; it missed fire, and in his hurry to spring the lock again, he broke it, and of course could not fire. Seeing him raise his gun to shoot, caused the Indians to halt, and commence firing arrows at him. Keeping himself between his wife and children and the Indians, he ordered them to get on as fast as possible and try to reach a house at which a Mr. Johnson lived, and where several men were living. This house was some half mile distant, but he hoped to reach it, and save those whom he held dearest-his wife and children. The Indians made every possible attack to separate him from his family, all of which proved vain. They would retreat to a respectful distance, and then come bound- ing back like so many furies from the regions of indescribable woe. When they came too near, he would raise his gun as if he was really reserving his fire, which would cause them to halt and surround him. But at every nttack they shot their arrows into his breast, causing great pain.
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For nearly an hour this running fight was kept up; still the blood-thirsty savages pressed on; at last, he was sufficiently near to Johnson's house to be heard, and he raised his powerful voice for succor; he was heard, but no sooner did the men at the house hear the cry of "Indians," than they took to their heels in an opposite direction. At last he arrived at the house, closely pursued by the Indians, and entering after his family, barred up the door, and began to make preparations for acting upon the offensive, when the Indians made a rapid retreat. Pemberton reached his own house the following day, where he resided many years, an eyesore to those who had so ingloriously fled from his assistance. Many arrow points which entered his breast, were never removed, and were carried to the end of life, as the best certificate ofhis bravery, and devotion to his family.
CHAPTER VII. CAPTIVITY OF THE DAVIDSON FAMILY, AND OTHER MASSACRES.
To tell a tale of Indian barbarity, is at all times painful. Even where the hardy backwoodsman is the victim, our sympathies become aroused for those of our own race, and we ardently wish the tale could have been otherwise told. But I have only learned the extent of my synpathy, when mothers and children have been the suffering party, in a tale told me by a hoary-headed old man, whose breast would heave as though some uncom- mon emotion was interfering with the natural pulsations of his heart. To witness the pearly drops gathering in his eye, as memory called up the days of yore, and the trembling of his voice, as he recounted the many sufferings of the captive mother or daughter, have never failed to awaken the tender- est sympathies of my soul, and produce a desire to so tell the same tale, that others might be similarly affected. This though, cannot be done-the in- tonations of the voice cannot be written, nor would it be in proper taste to attempt to throw around a scene, intended for a historical collection, the enchanting colors of language. Beside, there are a variety of tastes to please, and the writer who can give universal satisfaction has yet to write. There is one distinguishing feature, however, which all admire, and I have made this the test by which I have tried my labors, viz: simple truth. It is my place to record the fact, which may, in course of time, become material for him who delights to dwell on the ideal.
Andrew Davidson left his house, on business of importance, which would keep him from home several days. His horse was ready saddled, and kiss- ing his wife and children, bade them adieu for a season, promising to make all speed and return. Long and anxiously did the kind-hearted mother look at his retiring form. But as he passed from her sight, she turned again to her children, and silently wept over them, as if she felt the desolation of her situation. The family consisted of the three children of Mrs. Davidson, two girls and a boy, all small, and a bound boy and a girl, orphans, whose parents were Broomfields.
The bound children were between seven and ten, and, of course, were but little help to Mrs. Davidson. At the period of which I write, 1789-'90, the women of western Virginia willingly shared in the more laborious part of the household toil, and when their husbands were absent, performed such labors as were before performed by their husbands.
Several days had elapsed since the departure of her husband, when Mrs. Davidson found her doors suddenly darkened by the swarthy forms of several Indians, who, speaking English, told her she must go with them to their towns in the west.
There remained no alternative to her, though her situation was such as almost to prevent the possibility of her performing such a trip. She took
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up her youngest child, the Indians taking the others, and left the house to try the realities of Indian captivity, of which she had heard much said. They had not proceeded far when they relieved her of her burden; one of the Indians taking her child, and, unexpectedly to her, carried it on in safety.
The exertions and anxiety of mind undergone by Mrs. Davidson, was the cause of an addition of numbers to the captives. Two hours relaxation from the march, was sufficient rest, in the estimation of the Indians, and again they pushed on, one of the Indians carrying the stranger, which after a day's time, was drowned, on account of apparent or real indisposition.
The Indians who captured Mrs. Davidson, were more humane that she expected. They seemed to pity her, and showed every leniency that could be asked for, under the circumstances.
But, when they arrived at the Indian towns, quite a different fate awaited them. The two girl children were tied to trees, and shot before her eyes. The boy, her son, was given to an old squaw, who, in passing over a river, upset her canoe, and he was drowned. What became of the bound boy and girl was never known.
Mr. Davidson, two years after, it being a time of peace, went to the Shawanoe towns to look for his wife, who had been sold to a French gentle- man. Mr. Davidson made inquires after her, but could learn nothing of her fate. An old Indian, who no doubt pitied him, told him that if any Indian in the town knew of her whereabouts, he could not be told, as they would have to refund the price paid for her in case she had to be given up. But, that if he(Mr. Davidson)would go home, that he would find outwhere his wife was, and inform him. Mr. Davidson returned, little thinking that the Indian would heep his promise.
In a short time after Mr. Davidson returned, the old Indian conveyed the necessary intelligence to him, and he set out a second time, but now toward Canada, whither he had been informed she was. When he had got into the Canada settlements, |he stopped at the house of a wealthy French farmer, to get a meal's victuals, and to inquire the way to some place where he had heard she was.
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