USA > West Virginia > Wetzel County > History of Wetzel County, West Virginia > Part 2
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
hear them hallooing in every direction, as they hunted through the brush. At length, the evening wore away the day, he found himself alone in the friendly thicket. But what could he do? His hands were fastened with iron cuffs and bolts, and he knew of no friend on the same side of the Ohio to whom he could apply for assistance. He had a friend who had re- cently put up a cabin on the Virginia side of the Ohio, who, he had no doubt, would lend him any assistance in his power. With the most gloomy foreboding of the future, a little after night-fall he left the thicket and made his way to the Ohio. He came to the river about three or four miles below the fort. He took this circuit, as he expected guards would be set at every point where he could find a canoe. How to get across the river was the all-important question. He could not make a raft with his hands bound. He was an excellent swimmer, but he was fearful he could not swim the Ohio with his heavy iron handcuffs. After pausing some time, he determined to make the attempt. Nothing worse than death could happen; and he would prefer drowning to again falling into the hands of Harmer and his Indians. Like the illustrious Caesar in the storm, he would trust the event to fortune; and he plunged into the river. He swam the greatest part of the distance on his back, and reached the Virginia shore in safety; but so much exhausted that he had to lay on the beach some time be- fore he was able to rise. He went to the cabin of his friend, where he was received with rapture. A file and hammer soon released him from his iron handcuffs. His friend (I have forgot- ten his name) furnished him with a gun, ammunition and blan- ket, and he was again free, and prepared to engage in any new enterprise that would strike his fancy. He got into a canoe, and went to Kentucky, where he considered himself safe fram the grasp of General Harmer.
After this unfortunate happening he went south, where he staid for about five years, and his friends and relatives were wondering as to his whereabouts, and upon inquiry learned of
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
his close confinement at Natches, having been convicted of a felony; some say counterfeiting, and some say being intimate with the wife of a Spaniard; the latter probably being the cause. His friends immediately received a pardon for him, upon which he returned home (Wheeling), where he resided with a near relative, Mrs. George Crookis, and upon being joked by her, she asked him if it was not about time for him to choose a wife, upon which he replied that "there is no one in this world for him, but in Heaven." He returned south after being at the Crookis homestead for a number of years, vowing to avenge himself against the Spaniard, who had put him in jail for something he said he had never done. Whether he did or not was never known. "The appearance of Louis Wetzel," says Judge Foster, "looked to be about twenty-six years of age, about five feet ten inches high, being full breasted and very broad across the shoulders, his face being heavily pitted from the effects of smallpox; his hair reached to the calves of his legs." David McIntire, of the county of Belmont, Ohio, was the last man known to have seen Louis Wetzel. He saw him at Natches, where he was on a visit to a friend, one Phillip Sykes. He died in 1808. The number of scalps taken by him is unestimable; the best authorities estimate it at something near one hundred.
STOUT HEARTED LOUIS WETZEL.
Stout hearted Louis Wetzel Rides down the river shore, The wilderness behind him, The wilderness before.
He rides in the cool of morning, Humming the dear old tune,
"Into the heart of the greenwood, Into the heart of June."
He needs no guide in the forest More than the honey bees;
His guides are the cool green mosses To the northward of the trees.
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
Nor fears him the foe whose footstep Is light as the summer air; His tomahawk hangs in his shirt belt, The scalp knife glitters there.
The stealthy Wyandottes tremble And speak his name with fear, For his aim is sharp and deadly, And his rifle's ring is clear.
So pleasantly rides he onward, Pausing to hear the stroke Of the settler's ax in the forest, Or the crack of a falling oak.
The partridge drums on the dry oak, The croaking croby crows, The black bird sings in the spice bush, The robin in the haws.
And as they chatter and twitter, The wild bird seems to say: "Do not harm us, good Louis, And you shall have luck to-day."
A sharp clear ring through the greenwood, And with mightier leap and bound, The pride of the western forest Lies bleeding on the ground.
Then out from the leafy shadows A stalwart hunter springs, And his unsheathed scalp knife glittering, Against his rifle rings.
"And who art thou," quoth Louis, "That comest twixt me and mine?" And his cheek is flushed with anger, As a bacchant's flushed with wine.
"What boots that to thy purpose?" The stranger hot replies; "My rifle marked it living, And mine, when dead, the prize."
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
Then with sinewy arms they grapple, Like giants fierce in brawls, Till stretched along greensward The humble hunter falls.
"Now take this rod of alder, Set it by yonder tree A hundred yards beyond me, And wait you there and see."
"For he who dares such peril But lightly holds his breath, May his unshrieved soul be ready To welcome sudden death."
So the stranger takes the alder, And wandering stands in view, While Wetzel's aim grows steady And he cuts the rod in two.
"By heavens," exclaims the stranger, "One only, far and nigh,
Hath arms like the lithe young ash tree Or half so keen an eye,"
"And that is Loui's Wetzel," Quoth Louis. "Here he stands."
So they speak in gentle manner And clasp their friendly hands.
Ride out of the leafy greenwood, As rises the yellow moon,
And the purple hills lie pleasantly In the softened air of June.
-FLOHUS B. PIMPTON.
SIMON GIRTY.
The notorious Simon Girty once led a band of savages through Wetzel county. We here give a sketch of him, taken from McDonald's History of Ohio.
Simon Girty was from Pennsylvania, to which his father had emigrated from Ireland. The old man was beastly intem- perate, and nothing ranked higher in his estimation than a jug of whisky. Grog was his song, and grog he would have. His sottishnes turned his wife's affection. Ready for seduction, she yielded her heart to a neighboring rustic, who, to remove all obstacles to their wishes, knocked Girty on the head and bore off the trophy of his prowess. Four sons of this interesting couple were left, Thomas, Simon, George and James. The three latter were taken prisoners in Braddock's war by the Indians. George was adopted by the Delawares, became a ferocious savage, and died in a drunken fit. James was adopted by the Swanees, and became as depraved as his other brothers. It is said that he often visited Kentucky at the time of its first settlement, and inflicted most barbarous tortures upon all captive women who came within his reach. Traders who were acquainted with him say so ferocious was he that he would not have turned on his heel to save a prisoner from the flames. To this monster are to be attributed many of the cruelties charged upon his brother Simon, yet he was caressed by Proctor and Elliott. Simon was adopted by the Senecas, and became an expert hunter; in Kentucky and Ohio he sustained the character of an unrelenting barbarian. One hundred years ago his name was associated with everything that was cruel and fiendlike; to the women and children par- ticularly, nothing was more terrifying than the name of Simon
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
Girty. At that time it was believed by many that he had fled from justice and was seeking refuge among the Indians, deter- mined to do his countrymen all the harm in his power. This impression was as erroneous one; being adopted by the In- dians, he joined them in their wars and conformed to their usages. This was the education he had received, and their foes were his. Although trained in all his pursuits as an Indian, it is said to be a fact susceptible of proof that through his im- portance many prisoners were saved from death. His influ- ence was great, and when he chose to be merciful it was gener- ally in his power to protect the imploring captive. His repu- tation was that of an honest man, and he fulfilled his engage- ments to the last cent. It is said he once sold his horse, rather than to incur the odium of violating his promise. He was in- temperate, and when intoxicated ferocious and abusive to friends. Although much disabled the last ten years of his life by rheumatism, he rode to his hunting ground in pursuit of game, suffering the most excruciating pains. He often boast- ed of his warlike spirit. It was his constant wish, one that was gratified, that he might die in battle. He was at Proctor's defeat, and cut to pieces by Colonel Johnson's men. Girty led the first attack against Fort Henry in 1777; he also led an at- tack against Baker's fort the same year, but without effect.
FORT HENRY, AT WHEELING, W. VA.
Wetzel county was at one time a part of Ohio county, and was during the sieges of Fort Henry, and a sketch of the sieges would be appropriate. We have selected a sketch written by G. L. Cranmer.
Originally called Fort Fincastle in honor of Lord Dunmore, who, at the time of its erection, was Governor of the Colony, in the year 1776 its name was changed to Fort Henry, in honor of Patrick Henry, the first Governor of the Commonwealth. It was erected in the year 1774, the immediate cause of its erec. tion being found in the fact that an apprehended attack from the savages during that year was anticipated, and a place of defence for the protection of the infant settlement, of which they were destitute, was demanded. It was planned by Gen- eral Gorge Rogers Clark, Commandant of the Western Military Department, and was built by the settlers.
In shape it was a parallelogram, being about three hundred and fifty-six feet in length and about one hundred and fifty feet in width, and was surrounded by pickets about twelve feet high with bastions at each corner. Inside of the stockade cabins were erected for the shelter of such as sought protec- tion, a magazine for military stores, a block house, the second story of which projected over the lower, filled with port holes, through which the trusty rifle of the pioneer sent its death- dealing missile. On the top of the block house was a mounted swivel, a four pounder, which did effective work in an emer- gency. Wells were also sunk in the inclosure, so that a supply of water was secured at all times.
To the southeast, and about fifty yards distant from the Fort, stood the residence of Col. Ebenezer Zane-a cabin built
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
of rough-hewn logs, with a kitchen or outbuilding in the rear, which also had attached to it a magazine for military stores.
This house served as an outpost during the last siege of the Fort, which occurred on the 11th day of September, 1782, and contributed greatly to the defeat of the Indians and their Bri- tish allies on that memorable occasion. There were two regu- lar sieges of the Fort-the one in the year 1777 and the other in the year 1782, both of which were successfully repulsed. At the last siege the Indians were commanded by James Girty, and the British troops by Captain Pratt. Many writers name Simon Girty as the one in command on this occasion, but this is a mistake, as at this time he was with an Indian army which had invaded the territory of Kentucky, and he was present with that force at its attack on Bryant's Station, which oc- curred but a short time prior to the attack on Fort Henry.
James Girty was even more vindictive and bloodthirsty than his brother Simon Girty, but was not so conspicuous a charac- ter as the latter. There is reason to believe, however, that many of the atrocious deeds attributed to Simon Girty, the re- cital of which even at this late date makes the blood to run cold with horror, were perpetrated by James.
On the happening of the last siege the settlers on short and sudden notice had barely time to escape to the shelter of the Fort, so unexpected was the appearance of the savages. Con- sequently their homes, together with their furniture, were left exposed to the rapacity and cupidity of their assailants. It was towards evening that the Indian force with their allies appeared, and from that time until midnight repeated and fu- rious assaults were made by them on the Fort and its inmates, which were as often repulsed.
Awaiting the dawn of day, the attacks were renewed, but with as little success as during the preceding night. In the af- ternoon of the second day the besieged, finding their stock of powder had almost given out, it became with them a serious
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HISTORY OF WETZEL COUNTY.
question as to how they were to obtain a supply. There was plenty of it in the magazine at the house of Col. Zane, but ap. parently for all practical purposes it might have been a hun- dred miles distant. In this juncture Silas Zane, who was in command of the Fort, called atention to the critical state of af- fairs, and asked for volunteers to undertake the perilous feat of going to Col. Zane's house for the purpose of obtaining the needed supply. Several young men fleet of foot as well as bold and intrepid, offered their services, and each clamored to have the preference in an enterprise which, humanly speaking, boded almost certain death.
At this crisis a young lady seventeen years of age, who had been engaged in moulding bullets and loading the guns of the men during the siege, stepped forward and besought her bro- ther, Silas Zane, to permit her to undertake the arduous task, accompanying her arguments with representations to the ef- fect that she, being a woman, could be more easily spared than a man; that each man was needed for the defence, and that the loss of her life as compared with one of the sterner sex would be a small matter. Her arguments prevailed and she was per- mitted to essay the effort.
Divesting herself of superfluous clothing, the gates were thrown open for her egress, when, bounding forth with the fleetness of a deer, her long black hair streaming like a banner on the air, she rapidly sped in the direction of her brother's house, which she reached in security. Not a rifle had been raised nor a shot fired at her, the Indians, when they saw her, contemptuously exclaiming, "A squaw," "A squaw."
Hastily communicating her errand, Col. Zane snatched a ta- ble-cloth at hand, which he securely bound around her waist, and emptying into it the coveted powder, she set out on her re- turn. She had covered about half the distance between the house and the Fort, when the savages, apprehending her pur- pose, fired a storm of bullets at her person, which happily
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proved harmless. In recounting her adventures subsequently, and especially this stirring incident, she would relate that the bullets whistled around her so thick and came so fast that her eyes were blinded with the dust so that she could scarcely dis- tinguish her way to the fort. As the gates were thrown open for her entrance, the Indians made an unavailing effort to reach them by rushing towards them and securing an ingress.
This act of heroism upon the part of Elizabeth Zane saved the lives of the inmates of the Fort and enabled them to suc- cessfully withstand the siege.
In the meantime the besiegers had been greatly harrassed and embarrassed by the continual firing from Col. Zane's house, which as an outpost contributed largely to the protec- tion of the stockade. On the second night it was therefore re- solved by the Indians to attempt its destruction. About mid- night the savages became quiet and they had suffered their fires to die out, while a hush of silence rested on the scene around. The vigilance of the occupants of the house, however, was not deceived by appearances.
Old Sam, a Guinea negro who belonged to and was strongly attached to his master, Col. Zane, was on the alert with his trusty rifle in hand. He perceived a dark object with a lighted brand wriggling along on the ground, which ever and anon would wave to and fro in the air and blow upon it to rekindle. Allowing the Indian, for such it was, to approach within sure range, Sam fired, when the savage jumped to his feet, but fell back again yelling with rage and pain, until he either made his . own way off or was aided to do so by others. Twice during the night did Sam frustrate two similar attempts on the part of the Indians.
Old Sam and his wife were cared for assiduously until their death. They lived for many years after in a cabin which was erected for them on the upper portion of the Island, and died
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in peace and contentment, honored and respected by all who knew them, whose name was legion.
On the morning of the third day the Indians held a pow-wow or council and determined to raise the siege, greatly to the re- lief of the inmates of the house and Fort. With demonstra- tions of disgust and contempt they turned their backs upon the besieged, the greater portion of them recrossing the river, while a smaller portion went on a raid against some of the smaller forts back of Wheeling in the vicinity of the Pennsyl. vania line.
While peace between Great Britain and the Colonies had not yet been proclaimed, and was not for some months subsequent, yet virtually it did prevail and continued until its formal decla- ration, so that this siege of Fort Henry was the last battle of the Revolution, and the capstone of the war was laid on the soil of Western Virginia.
Elizabeth Zane, the heroine of Fort Henry, was twice mar- ried-the first time to a man by the name of Clark, and all her life was spent in the immediate vicinity of the scene of her ex- ploits. Her immediate descendants have all deceased, but her heroism will ever remain as a monument to perpetuate her name and fame.
Unless speedily rescued, the past with all its splendid achievements, its incidents and its memories, will be swal- lowed up in oblivion. To the youth of our land we therefore appeal not to let these things die. Let them become the guar- dians of our pioneer history, and by frequent recurrence to the scenes of the past restore their loyalty and revive their patri- otism.
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DAVID MORGAN'S ADVENTURE.
In the neighborhood of what was once Prickett's Fort, Mo- nangalia county, then Virginia, a sanguinary contest took place between Capt. David Morgan and two Indians. Mor- gan was at that time over sixty years of age. In the early part of April, feeling himself unwell, he sent his two children, Stephen, a youth of sixteen, and Sara, a girl of fourteen, to feed the cattle at his farm, about a mile off. The children, thinking to remain all day, and spend the time in preparing ground to plant watermelons, unknown to their father took with them some bread and meat. Having fed the stock, Ste- phen set himself to work, and while he was engaged in grub- bing his sister would remove the brush, and otherwise aid him in the labor of clearing the ground, occasionally going to the house to wet some linen which she had spread out to bleach. Morgan, after the children had been gone some time, betook himself to bed, and soon falling asleep, dreamed that he saw Stephen and Sara walking about the fortyard, scalped. Aroused from slumber by the harrowing spectacle presented to his sleeping view, he inquired if the children had returned, and was informed that they had not. He then set out to see what detained them, taking with him his gun. As he approached the house, still impressed with the horrible fear that he should find his dream true, he ascended an eminence from which he could distinctly see over his plantation, and descrying from thence the objects of his anxious solicitude, he went near where the children were working, and seated himself on a log. He had been there but a few minutes, when he saw two Indians come out from the house and start toward the children, on which he told them in a careful manner to make for the fort at
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once, as they were in great danger. They started to run and the Indians took after them, but the old gentleman showing himself at this instant, caused them to forbear the chase and shelter themselves behind treees. The old man then tried to escape by flight, and the Indians took after him. His age and his health prevented him from keeping out of their reach, and finding that they were gaining on him, he turned around to shoot, on which the savages took shelter behind trees, Morgan doing the same thing. The one that the Indian got behind was too small to shelter him, and Morgan seeing that a part of his body was in view, shot and killed him. Having succeeded in killing one of the savages he again took to flight, and the re- maining Indian again took after him. The race continued for about sixty yards; Morgan was fast giving out. He looked over his shoulder and saw the Indian not ten steps behind him, with his gun raised as if he was going to fire. Morgan then dodged to one side and the bullet went whizzing past him. The odds now were not so great as before, and Morgan stopped running and made at the savage with his gun, on which the Indian hurled a tomahawk at him, cutting two of his fingers off and injuring another severely. They then grabbed holds, and Morgan, being a good wrestler, threw his adversary, but found himself turned. The savage was now on top of him, feeling for- his knife and sending forth a most terrific yell, as is their cus- tom when thinking a victory secure. A woman's apron, which the Indian had taken from the house and fastened around him above his knife, hindered him from getting at it quickly, and Morgan, getting one of his fingers in his mouth, deprived him of the use of one hand. The Indian at last got hold of his knife, catching it on the lower part of the blade. Morgan, too, got a small hold on the extremity of the handle, and as the In- dian drew it from the scabbard Morgan bit his finger so hard that he relaxed his hold, thus giving Morgan a chance to draw it through his hand, cutting it severely. By this time both had
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gained their feet, and the savage, seeing the advantage that Morgan was gaining over him. tried to disengage himself, but Morgan held fast to him and succeeded in giving him a fatal blow that made the almost lifeless body sink in his arms. He then loosened his hold and departed for the fort. On his way he met his daughter, who not being able to keep pace with her brother, was following his footsteps. Assured thus far of the safety of his children, he accompanied his daughter to the fort and then returned with a company of men to see if there were any more Indians about. On arriving at the spot where the battle took place, the wounded Indian was not to be seen, but they trailed him by the blood to the branches of a fallen tree, and as they approached him he saluted them familiarly: "How do do, broder; how do do, broder." Alas, poor fellow, but their brotherhood extended no farther than to the gratification of a vengeful feeling. He was tomahawked and scalped. He and his companion were flayed, their skins tanned and convert- ed into saddle seats, shot pouches and belts. On the day of the unveiling of the monument that was erected in his memory on the site of the combat in Monongalia county, there was on ex- hibition at the spot a shot pouch and saddle girth made from the skins of the same Indians he killed. The shot pouch is now in the possession of , of this county. The knife that the Indians were killed with is owned by some of Mor- gan's descendants in Marion county.
LEVI MORGAN.
The people of Wetzel county are interested in the life and deeds of Levi Morgan, from the fact that Hon. Aaron Morgan, at the recent session of the Legislature, obtained an appropria- tion from that body of $3,500, for the erection of a monument in the court house yard at New Martinsville in his honor. The author has used great pains in securing the deeds of him more than anything else, his place of birth, for the year is not known by the author, and is unable to find out, neither can he obtain the year of his death. All that we can find out is that he moved on a farm near Louisville, Kentucky, after Wayne's treaty. In 1878 the Indians visited the settlement on Buffalo, in Pennsylvania, and Levi Morgan was there, skinning a wolf, which he had just taken from a trap. He saw three Indians, one riding a horse which belonged to a neighbor of his, and one that he knew very well, having rode it number of times previous. The other two were walking close behind, coming toward him. On looking in the direction they were coming, he recognized the horse and supposed the rider to be its owner, and on looking again discovered his mistake, and quickly seized his gun, sprang behind a large boulder, the Indians tak- ing shelter behind trees as soon as he was from their view. He turned and glanced around the rock and found that the Indians were looking for him at the other end of the rock, and seeing one peep out, immediately pulled his gun and fired, on which the Indian fell dead. But on turning to reload his gun, found that he had left his powder horn where he was skinning the wolf. He then darted from behind the rock with all of his speed, and one of the savages took after him. For some time he held his own in the race, but the savage, being used to such
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