  Early symptoms of disaffection at Boston—Origin of the Revolutionary War—First blood shed in 1770—Stirring eloquence of Joseph Warren—Feelings of Sir William Johnson—His influence with the Indians and Germans, and his unpleasant position—Last visit of Sir William to England—His death—Mysterious circumstances attending it—Suspicions of suicide unjust—His son, Sir John Johnson, succeeds to his title and estates—His son-in-law, Col. Guy Johnson, to his office as superintendent General of the Indians—Early life of Sir John—Joseph Brant appointed Secretary to Guy Johnson—Influence of the Johnson family—Revolutionary symptoms in Tryon County, fomented by the proceedings in New England—First meeting of Tryon County Whigs—Declaration of Rights—First meeting of Congress—Effect of its proceedings—in England—Tardiness of Provincial legislature of New-York—Spirit of the people—Notes of preparation in Massachusetts, &c.—Overt acts of rebellion in several States—Indians exasperated by the Virginia borderers in 1774—Melancholy story of Logan—Campaign of Lord Dunmore and Colonel Lewis—Battle of the Kanhawa—Speech of Logan—Its authenticity questioned—Peace of Chilicothe—Unhappy feeling of the Indians. It has been usually asserted by historians, that the first blood in the war of the American Revolution was shed at Lexington; but such is not the fact. The Boston massacre of 1770 was the beginning of that contest, so fearful in its commencement, so doubtful in its progress, and so splendid in its results. The storm had even then been gathering for several years, and the public mind had become exceedingly feverish, not only in regard to the conduct of the parent government, but in respect to the language and bearing of the officers of the crown stationed in the colonies. When, moreover, the people of Boston were subjected to what they considered a still greater indignity, by the quartering of soldiers among them, the irritation was such that but a small degree of forecast was necessary to the perception of an approaching explosion. The affair at Gray's Rope-Walk, on the 2d of March, increased the mutual exasperation; and the massacre that followed on the 5th was but the natural consequence. The first blow was then struck. The town was thrown into commotion, the drums beat to arms; and the news, with the exaggerations and embellishments incident to all occasions of alarm, spread through the country with the rapidity of lightning. Every where, throughout the wide extent of the old thirteen colonies, it created a strong sensation, and was received with a degree of indignant emotion, which very clearly foretold that blood had only commenced flowing; and although five years intervened before the demonstration at Lexington, there were too many nervous pens and eloquent tongues in exercise to allow those feelings to subside, or to suffer the noble spirit of liberty that had been awakened to be quenched. Such stirring orations as those of Joseph Warren were not uttered in vain; and so often as the anniversary of the 5th of March returned, were the people reminded by him, or by his compatriots of kindred spirit—"The voice of your brethren's blood cries to you from the ground." The admonition had its effect, and the resolutions of vengeance sank deeper and deeper into the hearts of the people, until the fullness of time should come. Sir William Johnson was too observing and sagacious a man not to note the signs of the times. He saw the gathering tempest, and it is believed to have given him great uneasiness. His sympathies, according to the testimony of those who knew him, were undoubtedly with the people. He was from the body of the people himself, having been the architect of his own rank and fortunes; and those who were acquainted with, and yet survive him, represent the struggle in his bosom to have been great, between those sympathies and his own strong principles of liberty on the one hand, and his duty to his sovereign on the other—a sovereign whom he had served long and faithfully, and who in turn had loaded him with princely benefactions. His domains in the Valley of the Mohawk were extensive; and his influence, through a large number of subordinate officers and a numerous tenantry, was correspondingly great. To the Indians, not only of the Six Nations but those far in the west beyond, who had fallen within the circle of his influence after the conquest of Canada and the subjugation of Pontiac, he had been as a father, and they looked up to him with veneration. Long association with him, and great Respect for his character—which, from its blunt honesty, frankness, and generosity, not altogether devoid of that roughness incident to a border population, was well calculated to secure the attachment of such people—had also given to his opinions the force of legal authority among the Colonists. The population, aside from the Indians, was chiefly Dutch, in the lower part of the Mohawk Valley; while in the interesting vale of the Schoharie Kill, and the upper district of the Mohawk, it was composed of the descendants of the German Palatinates, who had been planted there fifty years before. It was not at that period a very intelligent population; and the name of Sir William, who had been their friend and companion in peace, and their leader in war, like that of the King, was a tower of strength. It was very natural, therefore, that their opinions upon the great political questions then agitating the country, should take their complexion for the most part from those entertained by him. Hence, when the storm of civil war commenced, the Loyalists in that valley were probably more numerous, in proportion to the whole number of the population, than in almost any other section of the northern colonies. In connexion with the troubles which every man of ordinary sagacity could not but perceive were fermenting, Sir William visited England for the last time in the Autumn of 1773, returning in the succeeding Spring. He probably came back with his loyal feelings somewhat strengthened. It was not his fortune, however, good or ill, to see the breaking out of the tempest, the near approaches of which he had been watching with an intenseness of observation corresponding with the magnitude of his own personal interests, which must necessarily be involved. He died suddenly, at Johnson Hall, on or about the 24th of June, 1774. It was reported by his enemies,—or rather by the enemies of the Crown,—that he perished by his own hand, in consequence of the clouds which he saw darkening the political sky; and such an impression is yet very generally entertained. The tradition is, that on the day of his decease he had received despatches from England, which were handed to him while sitting in Court, and with which he immediately left the Court-house and walked to his own house. These despatches, it was afterward reported, contained instructions to him to use his influence with the Indians in behalf of the Crown, in the event of hostilities. Another version of the tradition is, that on the day in question he had received despatches from Boston, the complexion of which, in his own mind, indicated that a civil war was near and inevitable. In such an event he saw that he must either prove recreant to his principles, or take part against the Crown; and, to avoid either alternative, it has been extensively believed that he put an end to his life. [FN-1] But there is no just ground for this uncharitable conclusion. It is true that he had, on the evening of the 24th, received despatches from Massachusetts, the tenor of which, by excitement, may have hastened the malady to which his system was predisposed. It was a busy day at Johnstown. The Circuit Court was in session, at which, however, Sir William was not present, being engaged in holding a treaty with some of the Six Nations. In the course of his speech to the Indians on that occasion, he alluded to the despatches he had received, and stated to them that troubles were brewing between the Americans and their King—advising them not to abandon the cause of the latter, who had always been benevolent and kind to them. "Whatever may happen," said the Baronet, "you must not be shaken out of your shoes." [FN-2] [FN-1] Mr. Campbell, in his "Annals," favors this opinion. He says—"There is something still mysterious connected with his death. He had been out to England, and returned the previous Spring. During a visit which he made shortly afterward to Mr. Campbell, an intimate friend of his at Schenectady, the conversation turned upon the subject of the disputes between the Colonies and the Mother Country. He then said, he should never live to see them in a state of open war."—Ann. p. 12. [FN-2] MS. statement of a gentleman whose father was with Sir William that morning, and was present at the Indian Council. In the afternoon of that day Sir William was taken with a fit. Colonel Johnson, his son, was absent at the Old Fort—distant nine miles. An express was sent for him, and, mounting a fleet English blood-horse, he rode for the Hall with all possible haste. His horse fell dead when within three quarters of a mile of the house, having run upward of eight miles in fifteen minutes. The Colonel hired the horse of some one standing by, and pushed forward to the Hall. On entering the room, he found his father in the arms of a faithful domestic, who attended upon his person. He spoke to his parent, but received no answer; and in a few minutes afterward the Baronet expired [FN]—of apoplexy, beyond a doubt. This was early in the evening. While the judges of the Court were at supper in the village, one mile distant, a young Mohawk Indian entered their apartment and announced the event. [FN] MS. statement of Colonel William Feeter, in possession of the author. Col. F. is yet living (May, 1837.) Sir William was succeeded in his titles and estates by his son, Sir John Johnson; but the reins of authority, as General superintendent of the Indian Department, fell into the hands of the son-in-law of Sir William, Colonel Guy Johnson, who had long been in office as the Assistant, or Deputy of the old Baronet. This officer was assisted by Colonel Daniel Clans, who had likewise married a daughter of Sir William. On the decease of his father, Sir John also succeeded to his post as Major General of the militia. Of the early life of Sir John Johnson not much is known. He was not as popular as his father, being less social, and less acquainted with human nature and the springs of human action. He accompanied his father on some of his warlike expeditions, however, and probably saw considerable service. Soon after the termination of the French war, he was sent by his father, at the head of a small expedition, to the Mohawk canton of Oghkwaga,[FN-1] to arrest a Captain Bull, and some other malcontents and disaffected Indians, who were charged with being engaged in an effort to enlist the Six Nations in a war against some other Indians, or possibly to win them over to the designs of Pontiac. For this purpose young Johnson had a choice corps of men placed under his command, most of whom had served with the Baronet against the French. He had also a detachment of Indians with him. The expedition was arranged somewhat with a view of display—for the purpose, as it was conjectured, of giving eclat to the young commander. The enterprise was successful—Bull and his adherents were taken, and brought in irons to Johnstown. From thence they were sent to Albany and imprisoned for a time, but were all subsequently discharged. Before the Revolution commenced, Sir John married Miss Mary Watts, of the city of New-York.[FN-2] [FN-1] The author has found much difficulty in attempting to determine the orthography of this place. It is now generally written Oquaga. In the Congressional journals of the Revolution it was spelled Oneaquaga. By some writers it is written Oghquaga. The late highly intelligent Mohawk chief, Norton, always wrote it Oghkwaga, which orthography has been adopted by the author. [FN-2] Sister to the late venerable John Watts, who died in September, 1836. The successors of Sir William Johnson did not, however, possess the same degree of moral power over the population of Tryon County, Indian or white, as had been exercised by him. But they nevertheless derived essential aid from "Miss Molly," who was a woman of talents as well as tact, and possessing great influence among the Indians, who were her own people, Molly was in turn aided by the counsels and exertions of her brother, Joseph Thayendanegea, who had been much in the service of Sir William during the latter years of his life, and who, on the death of the Baronet, was advanced to the post of Secretary of Guy Johnson. These gentlemen, however, (Sir John Johnson, Guy Johnson, and Colonel Glaus,) living in great splendour, at, and in the neighbourhood of Johnstown, and thus allied with the family of a powerful Mohawk sachem, were still enabled to exert a decided influence, especially among the Indians. They were likewise in close official and political alliance with Colonel John Butler, an opulent and influential gentleman of that county, and his son Walter N. Butler—names rendered memorable, if nothing worse, by association with certain bloody transactions, which will be developed in the progress of the present volume. But, notwithstanding all their influence—and no family in America had ever been regarded with greater deference by the surrounding population than that of the Johnsons—they were not long in discovering that the principles now openly avowed in Massachusetts, could not be confined within the limits of that colony, or even of New England. Though less openly proclaimed, yet as the waters of a fountain ooze through the earth unseen until they have gathered force enough to break the surface and gush forth, so was it with the principles of Liberty sent abroad by "the Boston rebels," as they worked their way up the valley of the Mohawk; and the successors of Sir William Johnson were not long in discovering, that although they could still count among their retainers a large number of adherents, the leaven of civil liberty had nevertheless been more deeply at work than they had desired, or probably supposed. The celebrated "Boston Port Bill," enacted in consequence of the destruction of the tea in that harbour in 1773, had gone into operation only a month preceding the death of Sir William; and in the next month subsequent to his decease, a public meeting was held in the Palatine district, warmly seconding the proposition of Massachusetts for the assembling of a general Congress, for mutual consultation and counsel in the existing posture of the political affairs of the Colonies. The original draft of the proceedings of that meeting is yet in existence, in the hand-writing of Col. Christopher P. Yates—a patriot who embarked early in the struggle, and served to the end. They breathed the genuine spirit of freedom, and as a declaration of rights, are well entitled to a place among the fervid papers of that day, which were so powerful in their operation upon the public mind. After setting forth the concern and sorrow felt by the meeting, at the shutting up the port of Boston, and the tendency of the acts of Parliament for raising a revenue in the American Colonies, which they held to be an abridgment of the privileges of the people, the meeting resolved: 1st. That they recognised the King as their lawful sovereign, would bear true faith and allegiance to him, and would, with their lives and fortunes, support and maintain him on the throne of his ancestors, and the just dependence of the Colonies upon the crown of Great Britain. 2d. That they considered it their greatest happiness to be governed by British laws, and would pay cheerful submission to them, as far as they could do so, consistently with the security of the Constitutional rights of English subjects, "which were so sacred that they could not permit them to be violated." 3d. That all taxes without their own consent, or the consent of their representatives, were unjust and unconstitutional; and the acts of Parliament upon the subject were denounced, as obvious encroachments upon the rights and liberties of British subjects. 4th. That the act closing the port of Boston was arbitrary and oppressive to the inhabitants, whom they considered to be suffering in the common cause. 5th. That they would unite with their brethren elsewhere, in relieving the necessities of the suffering poor in Boston, and in "any thing tending to support our rights and liberties." 6th. Approving of the calling of a general Congress, and of the five members who had already been appointed by their brethren of New-York. 7th. That they would abide by such regulations as might be agreed upon by the said Congress. 8th. Appointing a committee of correspondence for that district, [FN] and recommending the other districts of the county to do the same. [FN] Christopher P. Yates, Isaac Paris, and John Frey. The Congress met in Philadelphia in September, 1774, and after adopting a declaration of rights, and setting forth wherein those rights had been violated, they agreed upon an address to the King, exhibiting the grievances of the Colonies, and praying for his Majesty's interposition for their removal. An address to the people of British America was likewise adopted, together with an appeal to the people of Great Britain, as also a letter to the people of Canada. [FN-1] The Congress then adjourned, to meet again in May, 1775. The papers put forth from that august assembly had a powerful effect upon the public mind. They were also highly extolled by Lord Chatham in the House of Peers, who declared, that "In all his reading and observation—and it had been his favourite study—for he had read Thucydides, and had studied and admired the master states of the world—for solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, under such complication of circumstances, no nation or body of men could stand in preference to the General Congress at Philadelphia." [FN-2] [FN-1] Mr. R. H. Lee wrote the address to the American people, and Mr. Jay that to the people of Great Britain. [FN-2] Parliamentary Register. The Provincial Assembly of New-York was the only legislature in the Colonies that withheld its approbation from the proceedings of the Congress—the loyalists of that Colony being, from a variety of causes, more numerous and influential than in any other of the provinces. In the Valley of the Mohawk they were particularly zealous and active; and the Johnson family, with their associates, were ceaseless in their efforts to divert the revolutionary spirit, which was but too obviously abroad. But like the bitter plant in the vegetable pharmacopoeia, the principles of liberty only thrive more rapidly beneath a pressure, and the spark which had been struck in the Palatine district, they not only found it impossible to extinguish, but a measure of their own adoption had the effect of kindling it into a blaze—and, once kindled, the fire of liberty is as inextinguishable as the Greek. In Massachusetts, however, other menacing measures besides the passage of resolutions, were adopted toward the close of 1774. Governor Gage having issued writs for the holding of a General Assembly, in October, afterward countermanded the writs by proclamation. But the new members, to the number of ninety, maintaining the illegality of the proclamation, met notwithstanding. Neither the Governor, nor any substitute, appearing to complete their organization, they formed themselves into a Provincial Congress, and adjourned to Concord. From Concord, after some collisions with the Governor, they removed to Cambridge; and in the course of their sittings measures were adopted for the public defence, and the organization of minute men, to the number of twelve thousand. Connecticut and New Hampshire were requested to augment the number to twenty thousand. Governor Gage complained bitterly that the edicts of this Congress were implicitly obeyed throughout the country. Before the year had expired, a royal proclamation was received, prohibiting the exportation of military stores to America. This document caused general indignation. In Rhode Island and New Hampshire the people at once seized upon the arms and ordnance in their public places and garrisons, and other corresponding measures were adopted by the Colonial authorities. In the more Southern provinces signs of jealousy and discontent began to be more unequivocally manifested. A meeting of the military officers of Virginia, under Lord Dunmore, was held, at which resolutions, professing loyalty and looking rebellion, were adopted. The Provincial Congress of Maryland approved of the proceedings of the General Congress; and in South Carolina, Judge Dayton, in a memorable charge to a Grand Jury at Camden, set the ball in motion in that Colony. Doctor Franklin, being in London, was required to attend a meeting of the Committee for Plantations, to whom had been referred the petition of the Massachusetts Assembly for the removal of Governor Hutchinson and Lieutenant-Governor Oliver. He supported the petition, and was, the day after, dismissed by the Crown from the office of postmaster for the Colonies. It may readily be conceived that an excitement thus increasing from day to day, and thus rapidly extending the circle of its influence, would not long be confined to measures of remonstrance and petition. Most unfortunate was it, therefore, that, just at this conjuncture, while all sagacious men saw by the shadows what events were coming, and all good men were solicitous for the preservation of the character and augmentation of the physical strength of the country, a small band of bad ones adopted a course well fitted to awaken the jealousy of the whole Indian race, and exasperate a portion of them to the highest pitch of anger and revenge. It was evident that the Colonies were about to measure swords with one of the strongest powers in Christendom, and to strike for freedom. True wisdom, therefore, required that the clouds of Indians darkening more than a thousand miles of our border, and in the North forming an intermediate power between our own settlements and the country of the anticipated foe, should be at least conciliated into neutrality, if not courted into an alliance. But a contrary course was taken by some of the frontier-men of Virginia, and a hostile feeling awakened by a succession of outrages, unprovoked and more cruel than savages, as such, could have committed. The well-informed reader will at once anticipate that reference is now had to the hostilities upon the North-western frontier of Virginia, commonly known as Cresap's War, from the agency of a subaltern officer of that name, whose wanton cruelty provoked it, and one striking event of which has rendered every American ear familiar with the name of Logan, the celebrated "Mingo Chief." [FN] [FN] Mingo, Mengwe, Maquas, and Iroquois, are all only different names applied to the Six Nations. The wars and the conquests of the Six Nations had been the cause of transplanting many families, among whom were some of distinction, over the countries subjected to their arms. Among these was the family of Logan, the son of Shikellimus, [FN] a distinguished Cayuga sachem, who had removed from the particular location of his own tribe, to Shamokin, or Conestoga, within the borders of Pennsylvania, where he executed the duties of principal chief of those of the Six Nations residing on the Susquehanna. He was a man of consequence and humanity, and one of the earliest to encourage the introduction of Christianity by Count Zinzendorf. He was a great friend to the celebrated James Logan, who accompanied William Penn on his last voyage to America, and who subsequently became distinguished in the colony for his learning and benevolence. Hence the name of the famous son of Shikellimus, so closely identified with the scenes about to be described. [FN] Shikellimus was a contemporary of the famous Cannassatego, and is known in Colden's History of the Six Nations by the different names of Skickcalamy, Shicalamy, and Shick Calamy.—Drake. Logan had removed from his father's lodge at Shamokin to the Shawanese country on the Ohio, where he had become a chief. He was a friend of the white men, and one of the noblest of his race; not only by right of birth, but in consideration of his own character. During the Indian wars connected with the contest with France, which were continued for a considerable time after the conquest of Canada, he took no part, save in the character of a peace-maker. The circumstances which transformed this good and just man from a sincere friend into a bitter foe, will appear in the following narrative:—It happened in April or May of 1774, that a party of land-jobbers, while engaged in exploring lands near the Ohio river, were robbed, or pretended to have been robbed, of a number of horses by the Indians. The leader of the land-jobbers was Captain Michael Cresap. Alarmed at the depredation upon their property, or affecting to be so, Cresap and his party determined to make war upon the Indians, without investigation, and irrespective, as a matter of course, of the guilt or innocence of those whom they should attack. On the same day, falling in with two Indians, Cresap and his men killed them. Hearing, moreover, of a still larger party of Indians encamped at some distance below the site of the present town of Wheeling, the white barbarians proceeded thither, and after winning the confidence of the sons of the forest by pretended friendship, fell upon and slaughtered several of their number, among whom were a part of the family of the white man's friend—Logan. [FN] [FN] Doddridge, in his History of the Indian Wars, states that no evidence of the imputed theft was ever adduced; and affirms his belief that the report was false, and the Indians innocent, even of a comparatively minor trespass. Soon after this atrocious affair, another followed, equally flagitious. There was a white settlement on the east bank of the Ohio, about thirty miles above Wheeling, among the leading men of which were one named Daniel Greathouse, and another named Tomlinson. A party of Indians, assembled on the opposite bank of the river, having heard of the murders committed by Cresap, determined to avenge their death, of which resolution Greathouse was admonished by a friendly squaw, who advised him to escape, while he was reconnoitering for the purpose of ascertaining their numbers. He had crossed the river with thirty-two men under his command, and secreted them for the purpose of falling upon the Indians; but finding that they were too strong for him, he changed his plan of operations, re-crossed the river, and, with a show of friendship, invited them over to an entertainment. Without suspicion of treachery the Indians accepted the invitation, and while engaged in drinking—some of them to a state of intoxication—they were set upon and murdered in cold blood. Here again, fell two more of the family of Logan—a brother and sister, the latter being in a situation of peculiar delicacy. The Indians who had remained on the other side of the river, hearing the noise of the treacherous attack, flew to their canoes to rescue their friends. This movement had been anticipated; and sharp-shooters, stationed in ambuscade, shot numbers of them in their canoes, and compelled the others to return. These dastardly transactions were enacted on the 24th of May. They were soon followed by another outrage, which, though of less magnitude, was not less atrocious in its spirit, while it was even more harrowing to the feelings of the Indians. The event referred to was the murder, by a white man, of an aged and inoffensive Delaware chief named the Bald Eagle. He had for years consorted more with the white people than his own, visiting those most frequently who entertained him best. At the time of his murder he had been on a visit to the fort at the North of the Kanhawa, and was killed while alone, paddling his canoe. The man who committed the murder, it was said, had been a sufferer at the hands of the Indians; but he had never been injured by the object upon whom he wreaked his vengeance. After tearing the scalp from his head, the white savage placed the body in a sitting posture in the canoe, and sent it adrift down the stream. The voyage of the dead chief was observed by many, who supposed him living, and upon one of his ordinary excursions. When, however, the deed became known, his nation were not slow in avowals of vengeance.[FN-1] Equally exasperated, at about the same time, were the Shawanese, against the whites, by the murder of one of their favourite chiefs, Silver Heels, who had in the kindest manner undertaken to escort several white traders across the woods from the Ohio to Albany, a distance of nearly two hundred miles.[FN-2] [FN-1] McClung, as cited by Drake. [FN-2] Heckewelder. The consequence of these repeated outrages, perpetrated by white barbarians, was the immediate commencement of an Indian war, the first leader of which was Logan, who, with a small party of only eight warriors, made a sudden and altogether unexpected descent upon a Muskingum settlement, with complete success. In the course of the Summer great numbers of men, women, and children, fell victims to the tomahawk and scalping-knife. Logan, however, though smarting under a keen sense of his own wrongs, set his face against the practice of putting prisoners to the torture, so far as he could. In one instance, he so instructed a prisoner doomed to run the gauntlet, as to enable him to escape without receiving essential injury. In another case, with his own hand he severed the cord which bound a prisoner to the stake, and by his influence procured his adoption into an Indian family. To punish these atrocities, provoked, as all authorities concur in admitting, by the whites, a vigorous campaign was undertaken by the Governor of Virginia, Lord Dunmore, with a force of between two and three thousand men. Eleven hundred of these Provincials, mostly riflemen, and comprising much of the chivalry of Virginia, constituting the left wing, were entrusted to the command of General Andrew Lewis, [FN] with instructions to march direct for Point Pleasant, at the mouth of the Great Kanhawa; while his lordship, proceeding with the right wing, was to cross the Ohio at a higher point, and fall upon the Indian towns in their rear. For reasons never satisfactorily explained, although the cause of some controversy at the time, there was a failure of the expected co-operation on the part of Lord Dunmore. [FN] Andrew Lewis was, in fact, only a colonel; but he was in the chief command of the division, and as he had a brother, Charles Lewis, also a colonel, he has been designated as a General by courtesy, and for the purpose of distinguishing the commander from the other colonel. General Lewis commenced his march on the 11th of September. His course was direct, through a trackless wilderness, one hundred and sixty miles; over which all the supplies of the army were necessarily to be transported on pack-horses. The march was very slow and tedious—occupying nineteen days. Arrived at or near the junction of the Kanhawa with the Ohio, Lewis waited eight or nine days to obtain tidings from Lord Dunmore, but heard not a syllable. Early on the morning of the 10th of October, two of Lewis's scouts, who were about a mile in advance, were fired upon by a large body of Indians; one of the scouts was killed, and the other escaped to camp with the intelligence. It was yet half an hour to sunrise, and instant dispositions were made to move forward and attack. Just as the sun was rising, the Indians, who were advancing upon a like errand, were met, and an engagement ensued, which continued with greater or less severity through the day. The Virginians had bivouacked upon a point of land between the two rivers, giving the Indians an important advantage of position, inasmuch as, if defeated, retreat would be impossible for the former, while the latter could fly at their pleasure. But such was not the purpose of the Indians. Their numbers have been variously stated, from eight to fifteen hundred, consisting of Shawanese, Delawares, Mingoes, Wyandots, Cayugas, and several other tribes, led in chief by Logan, assisted by other celebrated chiefs, among whom were Cornstock, Ellenipsico, (his son,) and the Red Eagle. The onset was impetuous upon both sides. Colonel Charles Lewis led the right of the Virginians, and was in advance. He fell almost at the first fire, mortally wounded, and shortly afterward expired—having walked back to his own camp. The Virginians, like the Indians, sought every advantage by fighting from the shelter of trees and bushes; but in the first part of the engagement the advantages were with the Indians, and two of the Virginia regiments, after severe loss, especially in officers, were compelled to give way. Colonel Fleming, who commanded the left, though severely wounded in the beginning of the action, by two balls through his arm and another through the breast, bravely kept the field for some time, cheering his men, and, urging them not to lose an inch of ground, directed them to outflank the enemy. But the assault of the Indians was vigorous and their fire so severe, that the left, like the right, was yielding, when, at the most critical moment, Colonel Field's regiment was brought with great spirit and resolution into the action, by which timely movement the fortunes of the day were retrieved. The impetuosity of the Indians was checked, and they were in turn forced to retreat—falling back to avail themselves of a rude breast-work of logs and brush-wood, which they had taken the precaution to construct for the occasion. Colonel Field was killed at the moment his gallant regiment had changed the aspect of the battle, and he was succeeded by Captain Isaac Shelby, afterward the brave and hardy old Governor of Kentucky. The Indians made a valiant stand at their breast-work, defending their position until nearly night-fall. For several hours every attempt to dislodge them was unsuccessful; the savages fighting like men who had not only their soil and homes to protect, but deep wrongs to avenge. "The voice of the mighty Cornstock was often heard during the day, above the din of battle, calling out to his warriors, 'Be strong! Be strong!' And when, by the repeated charge of the Virginians, some of his warriors began to waver, he is said to have sunk his tomahawk into the head of a coward who was attempting to fly." [FN] [FN] Drake—who compiles his account of this spirited engagement, from Withers, McClung, and Doddridge. The action had continued extremely hot until past twelve o'clock, after which it was abated at intervals, though a scattering fire was kept up most of the time during the day, Toward night, finding that each successive attack upon the line of the Indians in front but weakened his own force, without making any perceptible impression upon the Indians, and rightly judging that if the latter were not routed before dark, the contest must be resumed under at least doubtful circumstances on the following day, a final attempt was made to throw a body of troops into the rear. Three companies were detached upon this service, led by Captain Shelby. The ground favoured the enterprise. Availing themselves of the tall weeds and grass upon the bank of a creek flowing into the Kanhawa, those companies passed the flank of the Indian ranks unobserved, and falling vigorously upon their rear, drove them from their lines with precipitation. Night came on, and the Indians, supposing that reinforcements of the Virginians had arrived, fled across the Ohio, and continued their retreat to the Scioto. They had not the satisfaction of taking many scalps—the bodies of a few stragglers only falling into their possession. In the official account it was stated that they scalped numbers of their own warriors, to prevent the Virginians from doing it. Of those Indians first killed, the Virginians scalped upward of twenty. [FN-1] The loss of the Indians was never known. It must, however, have been severe; since, in addition to the killed and wounded borne away, numbers of the slain were thrown into the river, and thirty-three of their warriors were found dead upon the field on the following day. The loss of the Virginians was likewise severe. Two of their colonels were killed, four captains, many subordinate officers, and between fifty and sixty privates, besides a much larger number wounded.[FN-2] [FN-1] Official Report. [FN-2] Doddridge states the number of killed at 75, and of wounded at 140. In the estimate given in the text, Thatcher has been followed. It is stated by Drake, that a stratagem was resorted to in this action by the Virginians, similar to one that had been practised in the early New England war of the Indians at Pawtucket. The Virginians, concealing themselves behind trees, would hold out their hats from behind and draw the fire of the Indians; the hat being instantly dropped, the Indian warrior who had brought it down, supposing that he had killed the owner, would rush forward to secure the scalp of his supposed victim—only to fall beneath an unexpected tomahawk. Arrived at Chilicothe, a council of the Indians was convened to debate upon the question what was next to be done. Cornstock, it was said, had been opposed to giving battle at Point Pleasant, but had resolved to do his best on being overruled in council. Having been defeated, as he had anticipated, he demanded of the council, "What shall we do now? The Long Knives are coming upon us by two routes. Shall we turn out and fight them?" No response being made to the question, he continued, "Shall we kill all our squaws and children, and then fight until we are all killed ourselves?" As before, all were silent; whereupon Cornstock struck his tomahawk into the war-post standing in the midst of the council, and remarked with emphasis: "Since you are not inclined to fight, I will go and make peace." [FN] Saying which, he repaired to the camp of Lord Dunmore, who, having descended the Ohio, was now approaching the Scioto. [FN] Doddridge. Meantime General Lewis, having buried his dead, and made the necessary dispositions for an advance into the heart of the Indian country, moved forward in pursuit of the enemy—resolved upon his extermination. He was soon afterward met by a counter-order from Lord Dunmore, which he disregarded; and it was not until the Governor visited Lewis in his own camp, that a reluctant obedience was exacted. Meantime the negotiation proceeded, but under circumstances of distrust on the part of the Virginians, who were careful to admit only a small number of the Indians into their encampment at any one time. The chief speaker on the part of the Indians was Cornstock, who did not fail to charge the whites with being the sole cause of the war—enumerating the provocations which the Indians had received, and dwelling with peculiar force upon the murders committed in the family of Logan. [FN] This lofty chief himself refused to appear at the council. He was in favour of peace, but his proud spirit scorned to ask for it; and he remained in his cabin, brooding in melancholy silence over his own wrongs. [FN] Cornstock was a truly great man. Col. Wilson, who was present at the interview between the Chief and Lord Dunmore, thus speaks of the chieftain's bearing on the occasion: "When he arose, he was in no wise confused or daunted, but spoke in a distinct and audible voice, without stammering or repetition, and with peculiar emphasis. His looks, while addressing Dunmore, were truly grand and majestic, yet graceful and attractive. I have heard the first orators in Virginia, Patrick Henry and Richard Henry Lee; but never have I heard one whose powers of delivery surpassed those of Cornstock." Of so much importance was his name considered by Lord Dunmore however, that a special messenger was despatched to ascertain whether he would accede to the articles of peace. This messenger was Colonel John Gibson, an officer in Dunmore's army, and afterward a man of some distinction. The "Mingo Chief" did not dissent from the terms, but gave not his sanction without an eloquent rehearsal of his grievances—relating, in full, the circumstances of the butchery of his own entire family, to avenge which atrocities he had taken up the hatchet. His conference with Gibson took place in a solitary wood, and at its close, he charged him with the celebrated speech to Lord Dunmore, which has become familiar wherever the English language is spoken:— "I appeal to any white man to say if he ever entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed, as they passed, and said, 'Logan is the friend of the white men.' I had even thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last Spring, in cold blood and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it; I have killed many; I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace; but do not harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one." This speech has ever been regarded as one of the most eloquent passages in the English language. Mr. Jefferson remarked of it—"I may challenge the whole orations of Demosthenes, and of Cicero, and of any more eminent orator, if Europe has furnished more eminent, to produce a single passage superior to it;" and an American statesman and scholar,[FN-1] scarcely less illustrious than the author of this noble eulogium, has subscribed to that opinion.[FN-2] [FN-1] De Witt Clinton. [FN-2] Thatcher's Ind. Biography. It is due in candour to state, that the authenticity of this celebrated speech has been questioned. On the first publication of Jefferson's Notes, the relatives and friends of Cresap made a great outcry against the charge of his having murdered Logan's family. Among other arguments in his defence, it was contended that the speech attributed to Logan had, in substance and almost in words, been delivered to the General Assembly of Virginia by a sachem named Lonan, twenty years before the date assigned to it by Mr. Jefferson. The speech referred to was discovered in the travels of Robin, a Frenchman, who visited the Colonies at an early period of the war of the Revolution. The passage stands thus in the English translation of "Robin's New Travels in America:"— "Speech of the savage Lonan, in a General Assembly, as it was sent to the Governor of Virginia, anno 1754:— "Lonan will no longer oppose making the proposed peace with the white men. You are sensible he never knew what fear is—that he never turned his back in the day of battle. No one has more love for the white men than I have. The war we have had with them has been long and bloody on both sides. Rivers of blood have run on all parts, and yet no good has resulted therefrom to any. I once more repeat it—let us be at peace with these men. I will forget our injuries; the interest of my country demands it. I will forget—but difficult, indeed, is the task! Yes, I will forget that Major —— cruelly and inhumanly murdered, in their canoes, my wife, my children, my father, my mother, and all my kindred. This roused me to deeds of vengeance! I was cruel in despite of myself. I will die content if my country is once more at peace, But when Lonan shall be no more, who, alas! will drop a tear to the memory of Lonan?" If the date to this speech be the true one, there is an end to the claim of Logan. But the resemblance in many manuscripts, between the figures 4 and 7, is so close as to induce a belief, (Dr. Barton's Journal of 1808 to the contrary notwithstanding) that the error may have been made by the English translator. This opinion is strengthened by the similarity between the name given by Robin,—Lonan—and Logan. The difference consists in a single letter, and might well have been the error of the Frenchman, when writing the identical story of Logan. In the course of his investigations, Mr. Jefferson was furnished with a note, written by Logan, and sent to a white settlement, attached to a war-club, by the hand of an Indian runner, Heckewelder also says the speech was authenticated by Col. Gibson, and adds:—"For my part I am convinced that it was delivered precisely as it was related to us, with this only difference, that it possessed a force and expression in the Indian language, which it is impossible to translate info our own," Lord Dunmore, it is believed, was sincerely desirous of peace—from motives of humanity, we are ready to believe, although writers of less charity have attributed his course to a more unworthy feeling. Peace, therefore, was the result of the council. But it will readily be conceded that the Indian warriors could not have retired to their respective tribes and homes, with any feelings of particular friendship toward the white men. On the contrary, the pain of defeat, and the loss of the warriors who fell, were causes of irritating reflection, in addition to the original and grievous wrong they had suffered at the hands of Cresap and Greathouse. The Six Nations, as a confederacy, had not taken part in the war of the Virginia border; but many of their warriors were engaged in it, especially the Cayugas, to which nation Logan belonged, and the warriors of the Six Nations colonized on the banks of the Susquehanna and its tributary the Shamokin. These, it may be reasonably inferred, returned from the contest only to brood longer over their accumulated wrongs, and in a temper not over-inclined to cultivate the most amicable relations with the Colonies. In one word, the temper of the whole Indian race, with the exception of the Oneidas, was soured by these occurrences of the year 1774;—a most unfortunate circumstance, since events were then following in rapid succession, which within a twelvemonth rendered the friendship of the nations not only desirable, but an object of vast importance. But before the direct narrative leading to those events is resumed, it may be well to end the melancholy tale of Logan, "which can be dismissed with no relief to its gloomy colours." After the peace of Chilicothe he sank into a state of deep mental depression, declaring that life was a torment to him. He became in some measure delirious;[FN-1] went to Detroit, and there yielded himself to habits of intoxication. In the end he became a victim to the same ferocious cruelty which had already rendered him a desolate man. Not long after the treaty, a party of whites murdered him as he was returning from Detroit to his own country.[FN-2] [FN-1] Allen's Biog. Dic. [FN-2] Thatcher. |
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