by Allan Eckert
A short time later a new settlement was started by the Abraham Earlywine and William Sivert families, who had followed Wheeling Creek three miles above Wetzel’s claim and found a beautiful little stream entering from the north. They followed it upstream another mile and then climbed a hill to where there was a fine level ground with a clear bubbling spring 250 feet above the stream. With such isolation as this, they felt reasonably safe from Indian attack, and so they made their settlement here, and from the nature of the soil, they named it Sand Hill.140
Soon afterward an Irishman named William Boggs settled with his family at the mouth of a run that entered the Ohio only two miles below Wheeling Creek. Directly across from the creek mouth, almost on the Ohio shore, was an island not quite half a mile long but only 70 yards wide. Establishing his own little bit of immortality, he named the stream Boggs Run and the isle Boggs Island. And of course, he called his cabin and the immediate surroundings Boggs Settlement.141
Not terribly far from these settlements on Wheeling Creek and its tributaries, the McDonnell brothers—Bartholomew and James—who had come all the way from Connecticut, claimed on a fine little bottomland that they named Yankee Bottom. And at very nearly the same time seven members of the same family established their claim at the mouth of a creek only nine miles above the mouth of Wheeling Creek. The father was named Samuel McCulloch and his wife was Rachel. Only one of their two daughters, Nancy, was with them. The other was named Elizabeth and she was already well settled at the Wheeling site as the wife of Ebenezer Zane. The eldest son was named Samuel, after his father, and the other three were John, Abraham and George. All were well grown, and shortly after the McCulloch Settlement was made, the parents, fearful of Indians, returned to their home on the South Branch Potomac. Their daughter and four sons refused to accompany them; this was their new home and they meant to stay.142
Another family group settled at the mouth of a major creek entering the Ohio 12 miles below Wheeling Creek. These were the Tomlinson brothers, Joseph, James and Samuel, and their sister, Rebecca Tomlinson Martin, whose husband, a trader, had been killed by Shawnees on the Hockhocking River earlier the same year. In their initial explorations in the area, Joseph discovered, on a level terrace some 75 feet above the normal level of the Ohio River, an enormous cone-shaped mound, 70 feet high and more than 900 feet in circumference at the base. There were also seven smaller mounds within a few miles, all rising from very level bottomland. Huge, fully grown trees grew from the sides of a cone-shaped mound leveled off at the top to a circular plateau some 50 feet in diameter, upon which in the midst of a peculiar declivity grew two enormous trees—a white oak and a beech. Strange markings scored the latter’s smooth bark, obviously carved into the wood at various times over a long period, most of which were indecipherable, although there was one, newer than most, that bore the date 1734—39 years earlier.143 Curious, he did some preliminary digging into them and found artifacts of a prehistoric culture along with great numbers of human bones. He surmised that these were ancient burial mounds, and he promptly and appropriately named the stream here Grave Creek, and the expansive level bottomland he called Grave Creek Flats.144 Before long Joseph left to return briefly to their previous home at Will’s Creek Station on the upper Potomac, and when he came back he had with him a new young bride, the former Elizabeth Harkness.145
Late in the summer of 1770, William Houston arrived in his well-loaded canoe at Pittsburgh, fully prepared to settle there, but he was repulsed by the vulgarity and debauchery he found so prevalent. Leery of going too far down the Ohio lest he run into Indians, of whom he was very fearful, he decided to head upstream on the first creek of good size encountered, but ascend it far enough to be well beyond the vices of Pittsburgh and the likelihood of anyone else settling near him for a good while. It hadn’t taken him long to find a creek that suited him, and it turned out to be Chartier’s Creek.146 He turned in here and paddled upstream for more than 40 miles before coming to a particularly attractive creek entering from the southeast. Putting ashore at its mouth to rest, he rigged up a fishline and hook, baited with some beetle grubs he found by kicking apart a rotted log, and tossed it out into the water. He packed his pipe with tobacco while he waited but had no chance to spark some tinder to light it before the line began moving, heading up the smaller creek. He set the hook with a sharp tug and was dumbfounded at the strength of the pull from the other end. For some 15 minutes he fought the fish and finally pulled it up on shore—and discovered he had caught a large yellow catfish that he estimated would weigh 30 pounds. Very pleased with his catch, he knocked it in the head and tossed it into the canoe to prepare later for his dinner. Then he picked up a fist-size rock along the shoreline and lobbed it into the smaller stream.
“I christen you Catfish Creek,” he said aloud, then laughed at his own silly little ceremony. But Catfish Creek it was, and when he ascended it about a mile, he found a fine high clearing about 30 yards in diameter, surrounded by forest that would provide timbers for a cabin and wood for fuel; he knew he had found the place he was seeking. He pulled his canoe up on shore, unloaded some of his things and built a fire to cook his catfish. Then, looking around, he grinned to himself and spoke aloud again. “Reckon if I could name the creek,” he said, “I can name this place, too. From now on, this is Catfish Camp.” And Catfish Camp it was.147
Shortly after, other settlers ascended Chartier’s and, liking Houston’s choice of location, took up claims and settled in rapidly growing numbers around him. Some claimed considerably more than legally permitted. One of these was Andrew Van Swearingen, who took out claims in both his wife’s name and his own and, according to some, under some fictitious names as well.148 Thomas Edgington was one of the earlier settlers at Catfish Camp, but he didn’t get his land by claiming it. Born and raised in Hampshire County, Virginia, he was an adventurous man, and life on the frontier appealed to him. In 1771 he left home for good and settled at Redstone, but within a year tired of the constant transient activity there and sought a new place. Far up Chartier’s Creek he found Catfish Camp. The most desirable land there was already taken, but he learned that Andrew Van Swearingen had enough land that he might sell him some. They negotiated, and Van Swearingen, for the sum of $160, sold him a 700-acre tract of his holdings. By the following spring, Edgington had built his own cabin there and settled in with his family. The following year, Van Swearingen, having sold off the remainder of his claims at Catfish Camp to half a dozen new settlers, moved with his family down the Ohio to the large bottom that began at the mouth of Buffalo Creek and extended northward along the east side of the river for two and a half miles. Well up from the river level, he claimed a 400-acre location and built a new cabin.149
About that same time, another party that went far upstream before stopping was led by the Bane brothers—Isaac, Jesse and Nathan—who turned their large canoe up Tenmile Creek from the Monongahela, ascended for 16 miles, then turned into a stream coming from the north and followed it another three miles until, just above the mouth of a fine clear run, they found a good, level, lightly wooded terrace 20 feet above the creek waters. Here they established Bane Settlement. Soon afterward they were joined by two more of their brothers, Joseph and Ellis.150
Paddling far up the Monongahela in mid-April 1770, James Booth and John Thomas passed the mouth of Tygart Valley River and in three miles came to another stream, considerably smaller, entering from the southeast. They followed the tributary upstream for five miles and discovered an extensive rolling meadow rimmed by forest that was so appealing, they immediately made their claims and called the place Booth’s Settlement and the stream Booth’s Creek.151 Later that same month, a settlement was established by the Prickett-Hall-Ice party on the Monongahela River, five miles below the mouth of the Tygart Valley River at the mouth of the stream they named Prickett’s Creek. Fearful of being attacked, they petitioned for government protection and, later in the summer, a small fortification called Prickett’s Fort was estab
lished adjacent to the settlement by David Morgan, built under direction of Col. William Byrd on the Monongahela adjacent to the settlement.152
It was in 1770 that hardy explorers moving about in the Greenbrier Valley discovered animals congregating in an area eight miles east of Camp Union, where a series of springs bubbled from the earth, issuing a strong sulfurous odor. The rocks at the edges of the springs were coated with a white mineral crust, and the area was named White Sulphur Springs. Soon the medicinal value of these waters was recognized and a new flurry of settlement occurred in the area.
As soon as weather permitted reasonable travel down the Ohio in 1770, surveyors—individually and in teams—started the descent. Many were looking for any places along the left bank where there were good bottoms that could be claimed for themselves or their employers. Quite a few of them ascended the major streams they encountered and made tomahawk improvements along the way. One of the very first parties was led by the Taylor brothers, Richard and Hancock, who followed the Ohio all the way to its mouth at the Mississippi before turning back.
In May 1771 a settlement called Holliday’s Cove was established 66 miles down the Ohio from Fort Pitt and 25 miles above Wheeling Creek. It was located a couple of miles up Harmon’s Creek and among its earliest settlers were John Doddridge, Benjamin Biggs, George Lefler and Harmon Greathouse, the latter having two huge loutish sons named Jacob and Daniel.153
Later that same year a young giant of a man paddled down the Ohio with two companions bent on locating what were reported to be the most fabulous hunting lands imaginable—a mysterious area called the canelands far down the river in the Kan-tuck-kee country. They searched for a long while and didn’t find them at first, so they gave up for the time being and paddled up the Kanawha. At the Elk River they turned upstream and stopped two miles later at the mouth of a small stream. The young man followed a well-used game trail some five miles to where another creek emptied into the Kanawha, near which there was a fine salt lick and evidence of many animals having been attracted. He returned to where they had put in with their canoe and here they made a semipermanent camp to spend the winter, perhaps longer. The companions of the young man were named George Strader and John Yeager. The big young man himself was named Simon Kenton.154
In 1772 Richard Wells searched widely for good stream bottoms that were unclaimed and finally, in exasperation, claimed his 400 acres, plus a thousand-acre preemption right on the high level ground of the divide separating Harmon’s Creek from Cross Creek.155
The Abb’s Valley Settlement was established in 1771 on the headwaters of the Bluestone River by Absalom Looney and quickly attracted new settlers, such as the families of James Moore and John Pogue. About the same time the Simpson’s Creek Settlement, begun five years earlier on the West Fork of the Monongahela, was enlarged by the arrival of a number of families, including those of John Powers, Jonas Webb and James Anderson.
Walter Kelly brought his family down the New River to the Kanawha and, on the upper reaches of that river, at the mouth of a stream he named Kelly Creek after himself, he established the Kelly’s Creek Settlement.156
With great courage—or perhaps foolhardiness—a pair of surveyors named Thomas Hedges and Thomas Young descended the Ohio over 430 miles and, on a narrow bottomland along the left bank, pressed their luck by building the first “improver’s cabin,” as they called it.157
While numerous forts were being erected during this period, a major one was deliberately destroyed. Fort de Chartres, a bastion for the French since 1720 and under British control since late 1765, was finally deemed to be a strategic liability rather than an asset and was ordered by Gen. Thomas Gage to be destroyed. This was done by its final commanding officer, Capt. Hugh Lord, in April 1773.158
All the northwestern tribes were at first dumbfounded and then deeply concerned by this sudden overwhelming movement of whites into the lands where they lived or hunted. Yet despite the ominous portent it posed to their way of life, they showed remarkable restraint. Though absolute war against the whites was prohibited in general tribal councils, it was agreed that everything possible should be done to force these people back to their own side of the Alleghenies. They began doing so by the only legal means open to them: They attended council after council with the whites and lodged official complaints to the Indian agents—men such as Sir William Johnson, George Croghan, Conrad Weiser, Alexander McKee and others—as well as to governmental authorities, who were usually sympathetic to a degree but invariably professed helplessness in controlling the situation. Though such counciling with white authorities continued, the Indians then took to confronting interlopers and politely asking them to leave. When these requests consistently had little effect, they demanded the whites leave and laced those demands with threats. When even that had little or no effect, greater degrees of harassment occurred—the killing of cattle and other livestock, theft of horses, burning of outbuildings and cabins. True, some killings had occurred from the beginning, but these were most often the actions of hot-headed braves who believed such action was necessary, not only to definitely put the point across to the whites that they risked their lives by coming into Indian lands but, equally, in retaliation for the murders of Indians that were being committed, murders that not only went unpunished but were applauded by other whites. Nevertheless, the actions of these young warriors were not condoned by the tribes in general.
When a party of Shawnees under a subchief called Captain Will discovered Daniel Boone and five others of his party wandering about Kentucky and hunting there, a fight broke out and one of Boone’s men was killed. Boone and the other four were captured and held for a week, yet treated with surprising courtesy and concern. Amazingly, the Indians even apologized for the death and, though they confiscated the furs the whites had collected in Kentucky, along with their horses and some of their weapons and supplies, they left them enough to get them safely back home. Captain Will, who could speak English surprisingly well, released Boone and his four men, saying:
“Now, Brothers, go home and stay there. Do not come here anymore. This is the Indians’ hunting grounds, where we must hunt to provide for our families over the winter. All the animals, skins and furs were given as a gift by Moneto for our support, without which we could not survive. You must go. Consider us to be the stinging bugs who guard their nests: if you are so foolish as to come here again, you may be sure the wasps and yellow jackets will sting you severely.”
The Boone party started away, all except Boone and his companion, John Stewart.159 Instead of taking the good advice, these two followed the Indians, crept into their camp by night and managed to take back a few of their horses. Then it was they who were followed and recaptured. Amazingly, they were not killed and, in fact, as before, were treated quite well. Two days later they escaped again and this time overtook their companions. It was during this period that Boone spied a Shawnee boy fishing in a stream and took a bead on him with his rifle, then decided against killing him and lowered the gun, only to find that a warrior he hadn’t even seen, the boy’s father, had similarly taken a bead on him and would have fired instantly had he hurt the boy in any way. They talked together politely and then each went his own way. Boone was going home, but he knew that he would soon be back.
The worst incident at this time of Indian attack against whites actually had nothing to do with the northwestern tribes except for its aftermath. In the spring of 1772, Adam Stroud, a Dutchman formerly of the Philadelphia area, along with his wife and five children, had descended the New River to the mouth of the Gauley River, then ascended that stream to a lovely area they called The Glades, and here they established themselves. Hardly had they planted their roots, however, when they were discovered by a roving war party of Cherokees, who massacred all seven. When the deed was discovered, a great fear shot through the other settlers establishing themselves farther down the Kanawha and along the Ohio. A party of men was assembled by William White and William Hacker on the upper New River a
nd descended the stream searching for the perpetrators. The Cherokees had long departed by that time, but the party heard from a trader of the existence of the Delaware village of Bulltown on the Little Kanawha and decided those were the Indians who must have done it. They fell on the town by surprise, killed the chief, Captain Bull, and five families of Delawares before the remainder made their escape. About 20 Indians were killed, and when the survivors eventually returned and found the dreadful remains, they immediately abandoned the village and paddled down the Ohio to the Wabash, up that stream to the mouth of the White River, then up the White for 18 miles before stopping to establish a new village.160
Oddly, little attention was paid to this incident, the whites generally feeling that the Stroud massacre had been avenged and the Indians more or less accepting it as an unfortunate occurrence but one that did not require retaliation, lest a general war break out. The most direct result seemed to be that Indians living in their proximity made another general movement away from the intruders and reestablished their villages deep in the Ohio country or even farther west, in the Indiana country. Four other Delaware villages were abandoned—one near the mouth of the Loyalhannon not far from Fort Bedford, another on the upper Allegheny near the mouth of Conewango Creek, the third at the mouth of the Kiskeminetas, also on the Allegheny, and, most significantly, the largest village still existing on the Allegheny, Kittanning.161 Also, the village called Mingo Town, long situated on the right bank of the Ohio 70 miles below Fort Pitt, was abandoned.