That Dark and Bloody River

by Allan Eckert

  He ordered that refreshments be provided to the Indians on hand, along with a small quantity of liquor to warm their bellies and pipe tobacco to soothe their minds. He was very tired, and that would give him time to rest a bit before the council began. He drank a small cup of wine and, with a long sigh, sat down in a comfortable elbow chair. He looked around at the gathering of Indians for a moment and smiled faintly, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  And then he quietly died.

  [July 20, 1774—Wednesday]

  There was no longer any need for John Connolly or anyone else to concoct stories of Indian attacks upon whites. Since shortly after the attack on the Shawnee delegation at Pittsburgh, raiding parties had spread throughout the frontier and were fiercely descending upon settlements and isolated cabins, burning, killing and scalping. Most of the raids were being carried out by the Mingoes, and many of these by Talgayeeta himself, accompanied by a cordon of eight of his most skilled warriors.

  The exodus of so many settlers to the Monongahela and Cheat river valleys had not availed them much, since quite a few of the attacks were occurring in areas well away from the Ohio River itself. Walter Kelly and his family of five, who thought themselves safe in their little settlement far up the Kanawha at the mouth of Kelly’s Creek, were attacked and wiped out, and their slave girl and an indentured Scots boy were taken captive, causing William Morris shortly afterward to build Fort Morris on the site to protect other settlers in the area; another family of nine was destroyed on the Monongahela a short distance from the mouth of Dunkard Creek; a Redstone man who went out in the morning to find the horses he had hobbled the evening before had had his head cut off and all the horses taken; yet another was killed and scalped within sight of Redstone Old Fort; two other men east of Laurel Hill, where it was believed no attacks would occur, were similarly shot down and scalped, and when a small force was raised to pursue them, the Indians had melted away into the forest without trace; the John Flinn family of four was slain in their cabin at the mouth of Cabin Creek, and then, after the scalps were taken and the place plundered, the house was burned over their bodies.

  Experience in woodsmanship seemed to serve but little. One of the most experienced of fur traders, David Connor, fell beneath the tomahawk of Talgayeeta himself, as did Coleman Brown at Simpson Creek. The McKinzie cabin on the Kanawha was hit while Moredock McKinzie and his eldest son were away; his younger son and wife were killed, and his two daughters, Margaret and Elizabeth, aged 12 and 10 respectively, were captured.219

  Daniel Boone and Michael Stoner had been successful in reaching and warning the surveying parties under Hancock Taylor at the Falls of the Ohio and James Harrod well in the Kentucky interior, where he was establishing the first permanent white settlement, Harrodsburg.220 Those parties immediately began their return, but both groups were attacked; Hancock Taylor was killed and scalped near the Falls, and one of the surveyors laying out Harrodsburg, Jared Cowan, was similarly killed and scalped near that place.

  A flurry of fort-building was now occurring everywhere on the frontier but most particularly east of the Monongahela. On June 8, after fortifying his cabin at Spring Garden on the Youghiogheny, William Shepherd wrote to Col. Washington:

  Our whole country is in forts, what is left; but the major part is gone over the mountain. With much ado I have prevailed on about a dozen families to join me in building a fort over against my house, which has been accomplished with much difficulty and a considerable expense to me. Valentine Crawford has built another at the same rate. It was with great difficulty that any could be prevailed upon to stay, such was the panic that seized the people. If something is not done, I am much afraid the whole country must fall into the hands of the enemy. The Delawares seem to be on our side as yet, but on them there is not much dependence. I believe an Indian war is unavoidable. I have been on a scouting party as low as Grave Creek … but could see no signs of any parties. However, as soon as I returned, a party crossed the river that did mischief. Fort Pitt is blockaded, and the inhabitants of the town are picketing it in. They have about one hundred men fit for arms in town and fort, which I do not think sufficient to protect those places.

  Shortly after this, David Shepherd, who had moved to the crossings of the Youghiogheny, built a small fortification there and called it Shepherd’s Fort.221 Connolly was still calling for men to assemble at Fort Pitt, and many had answered; enough that, in preparation for the campaign into Ohio ready to be launched by Col. Angus McDonald, he dispatched William Crawford at the head of 200 men to Wheeling to build a fort there and name it Fort Fincastle.

  Oddly enough, in the midst of the exodus of settlers, there were not only a large number who doggedly stayed on their claims but others who incredibly continued to come into the frontier area and establish themselves. Not only did William Morris build his fort where the Kelly family had been killed, two of his brothers settled on tributaries of the Gauley River—Leonard at the mouth of Slaughter Creek, Henry on Peters’ Creek. Even in the high danger area of Wheeling, William Linn was undaunted and set about building a cabin on the claim he had bought from Ebenezer Zane, just over two miles up from the mouth of Wheeling Creek.

  The intrepid Rebecca Martin, sister of the Tomlinson brothers, refused to leave their cabin on the Grave Creek Flats. Today, only two months after the frightening experience of stepping on the body of the dead Indian in the river, she had another experience no less harrowing and infinitely more dangerous. Joe and Jim had gone to Fort Pitt to join in the McDonald campaign, and Sam would have gone as well, had he not been temporarily lamed in a fall down a ravine.

  This morning at sunrise, Sam had hobbled out to the cornfield a few hundred yards distant to do some hoeing, taking one of his rifles with him and leaving the other, loaded and primed, hanging on its hooks over the fireplace for Rebecca, should she need it. No more than a half-hour later, she was busy building a fire in that fireplace and was on her hands and knees, blowing at the coals to get the flames going better. Hearing a creaking of the floorboards behind her, she thought it was Samuel and turned, but her smile vanished. A tall Shawnee warrior clad only in moccasins and breechclout, with raised tomahawk in hand, stood within arm’s length. She stifled a gasp as he made a sign with his free hand for her to remain silent. She remained outwardly calm, her eyes fixed on the threatening tomahawk and ready to lunge to the side if it started to descend. They stood this way for a long moment, and then the Shawnee, obviously nervous and fearing someone would enter, let his eyes flick around the cabin. When he saw the rifle over the mantel, he took a step away from her and lifted it from its hooks, backed to the cabin door, took a quick look outside for danger and then leaped out and was gone.

  A deep shudder ran through Rebecca, and she came unsteadily to her feet. She glanced at the empty hooks over the fireplace and shook her head in exasperation; with the gun gone, she would have no choice but to tell Samuel what had happened.

  [August 22, 1774—Monday]

  The expedition led by Col. Angus McDonald against the Shawnees at Wapatomica turned out to be a great disappointment to all the whites on the frontier.

  For many weeks during the early summer, men had gathered at Fort Pitt to take part in the campaign, their hopes high that they would resoundingly defeat the Indians and force them so far away into the northwestern wilderness that the Ohio River Valley would become safe for their continued claiming and development. It hadn’t turned out quite that way.

  In early July, McDonald had arrived at Fort Pitt with a few hundred men and found enough others gathered there to swell his force to nearly 400. Among the men on hand were Simon Kenton, George Rogers Clark, William Linn, Jake Drennon, John Hardin, the Greathouse brothers, the Tomlinsons and McCullochs and Zanes. Simon Girty was there as well, with the rank of ensign, and he and Kenton met and got along so well together that they made an oath between themselves of perpetual friendship. Girty had only shortly before been released from the guardhouse in Fort Pitt, whe
re he had been temporarily incarcerated by newly promoted brevet Col. Connolly for voicing sentiments that were in sympathy to the plight of the Indians.

  Cols. McDonald and Connolly quickly got the men organized into companies, after which McDonald left Connolly in charge of a small garrison at Fort Pitt and marched the majority to Wheeling, arriving there on July 24. Capt. William Crawford’s advance force of 200 men was at that time just putting the finishing touches to Fort Fincastle, which enclosed about three-quarters of an acre, and there were about 30 settlers’ cabins in the cleared land between the fort and the forested bluffs to the east. Jonathan Zane, Thomas and Joseph Nicholson and Tady Kelly were commissioned to guide the army through 90 miles of wilderness to Wapatomica. A majority of Crawford’s force joined McDonald for the march into the Ohio country, with Crawford and the remainder left behind as a garrison for the new fort.222

  A variety of boats had been brought down from Pittsburgh, and the army, having marched down to the mouth of Fish Creek, 23 miles below Wheeling, was ferried across the Ohio River. Forming on the other side near Captina Creek, they moved overland toward the Shawnee capital village of Wapatomica at the Forks of the Muskingum. They encountered no Indians until within just a couple of miles of the Forks, when they were ambushed by 50 warriors. Col. McDonald, instead of taking the lead with his force, had appointed Capt. George Rogers Clark to that position, while he remained well toward the rear and, much to the discomfiture of his troops, grew increasingly unsure of himself. When the ambush broke out at the head of the line, Angus McDonald had literally dived to safety behind a log and cowered there until the attackers were driven off. The fight was very brief; two militia men had been killed in the first firing and eight others slightly wounded, including Capt. John Hardin, who was nicked by a ball in the knee, and William Linn, who took a ball in the left shoulder.223 Simon Girty became the object of cheers when he pulled off a spectacular long shot of well over 150 yards, badly wounding one of the Shawnees who had imprudently shown himself, the only known casualty among the attackers. Within minutes the skirmish was all over.

  When the army arrived at the Forks of the Muskingum a short time later, they found Wapatomica abandoned and most of the wegiwas and cabins on fire. Those not already burning were set afire at McDonald’s orders. The Shawnees had moved their capital much deeper into the interior, and no one was quite sure where, but it was rumored that it would be reestablished on the headwaters of the Mad River, 100 miles due west. Announcing this to be a great victory, McDonald quickly turned his army around and now, eager to be in front, led them back to Wheeling. Respect for the commander had disintegrated, however, and he seethed with fury when, in their camps, a voice would call out of the darkness on one side, “Who hid behind the log?” and 100 voices or more would immediately thunder in chorus, “The colonel!” It was about that time when Capt. George Rogers Clark won the respect of the men by soundly thrashing a burly hare-lipped private named Strother Crawford, who was advocating outright rebellion and mass desertion in the face of Col. McDonald’s cowardice.

  Nothing else untoward occurred on the march back to Wheeling and, with a full company of men left behind to garrison Fort Fincastle at Wheeling, McDonald continued the march to Fort Pitt, arriving here today. Everyone was relieved to find that Lord Dunmore was on the march with his force and should be arriving soon to begin his campaign against the Shawnee villages on the Scioto. Similarly, Gen. Andrew Lewis was ready to begin his march down the New and Kanawha rivers to the rendezvous at the mouth of the Kanawha. When these two forces met, they would merge into a powerful army of some 3,000 men. With that in the offing, the militia bivouacked at Fort Pitt to wait and join the expedition.

  [August 28, 1774—Sunday]

  The Shawnees had long been considering a new site for their capital village of Wapatomica—one that would be well removed from any likelihood of attack from the whites. For several years they had been considering an isolated site on the upper Mad River some four miles above the village of Mackachack, principal village of the Maykujay sept of the tribe under Chief Moluntha, and just over two miles downstream from the Wyandot village called Tarhe’s Town. Now, having been forced by McDonald’s army to abandon Wapatomica at the Forks of the Muskingum—the town of Kikusgowlowa, chief of the Thawegila sept—they had wasted no time coming to this new site and getting themselves established. Wegiwas were quickly erected, and a large log council house was begun. With over 100 warriors working at the task, plus twice that many women and children, the work went swiftly. Though construction was not yet completed, today Kikusgowlowa opened the first council held in the new msi-kah-mi-qui—council house.224

  The meeting was brief. Their little victory over the McDonald force had not left them with any illusions that their trouble with the whites was over. Spies were watching the two armies—under Dunmore and Lewis—now being readied to come against the Scioto towns, and for this reason Wapatomica had not been reestablished in their vicinity. McDonald’s invasion had clearly shown just how vulnerable the villages on the Muskingum and Scioto were to attack from the Shemanese. For that reason, a large section of the Thawegila sept had decided they wanted no more war and, despite the scorn of Kikusgowlowa and the rest of the tribe for such weakness, left their Ohio friends and kin and went south to live again among the Creeks.225

  The main item of business at today’s council was to select and dispatch runners to the various allied tribes. Within an hour they were on their way to inform those allies of the relocation of Wapatomica and that the time was now at hand for them to live up to their promises previously made: They were to raise parties of warriors and send them to join with the Shawnees as soon as possible at Chalahgawtha on the Scioto. There the battle plans would be decided upon and a march made against the threatening armies of Shemanese, who were soon to assemble at the mouth of the Kanawha.

  And nearby, in the new wegiwas that had been set up, Shawnee mothers, who used to quiet their children by invoking the traditional superstition that owls would come to carry noisy children away, were now employing a new phrase to silence crying babies and rowdy toddlers: “Hush now, or Cresap and Greathouse will come to get you, for they both have ears like wolves!”

  [September 5, 1774—Monday]

  Today the potential revolution moved a large step closer to reality. The First Continental Congress assembled in Philadelphia, with all the American colonies represented except Georgia. They elected Peyton Randolph of Virginia as president and set forth the framework of a Declaration of Rights and Grievances to present to George III. Part of their resolutions included plans to import nothing further from Great Britain after December 1 and to export nothing to them unless their grievances were redressed. They agreed to resist restrictive taxation and other obnoxious measures employed by the King against them and to raise forces of minutemen to actively resist coercion. They also resolved to cease all official intercourse with England.

  George Washington was among the Virginia delegates but not entirely in line with their desire for independence from the Crown.226 He described as repugnant the idea of a revolutionary war and added: “I abhor the idea of American independence.… No thinking man in all of North America desires independence.”

  He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  [September 30, 1774—Friday]

  A rousing cheer erupted from more than 800 throats as the army of Gen. Andrew Lewis emerged from the trees and saw, stretched out before them, the broad expanse of the Ohio River. For 19 days they had been on the move, and all were exhausted from the toil of marching 165 miles through the wilderness to this point. Where possible, and to avoid the deep ravines and difficult creek crossings near the main rivers, they had followed the old Indian paths along the base of the hills, traveling by way of Muddy Creek, Keenys Knobs, Rich Creek, the Gauley Valley, Twentymile Creek, Bell Creek, Kelly’s Creek and then finally the Kanawha itself. That latter stream, as they had followed it, seemed very large and yet now, only a short distance a
head to the left of the large triangular bottom being called Point Pleasant, the glistening clear waters merged with the slightly murkier waters of a river easily three times larger.

  For by far the majority of these men, this was their first view of the great Ohio, the river called Spaylaywitheepi by the people they were prepared to destroy. Some 400 yards across its smoothly rolling surface loomed the Ohio shoreline, stretched out in a wide bottom there but, beyond, rising into hills 300 feet above the river level.

  They had hoped, all of them, that Dunmore’s army would be there awaiting them, but it was immediately apparent that they had arrived first. Once again a sense of apprehension rose in many; was this, perhaps, confirmation of the rumors that Dunmore was deliberately setting them up for disaster?

  The stories had been prevalent among the men as they first began assembling at Camp Union on the Greenbrier during the final days of August. It was clear to all that Lord Dunmore, both as Governor of Virginia Colony and as a private citizen devoted to the King, deplored the rising revolutionary sentiment, and his previous unprecedented actions of arbitrarily abolishing the right of assembly, of curbing free speech and of even dissolving the Virginia Assembly clearly indicated he would go to almost any length to harass and humiliate the colonists. Would it not be the ultimate humiliation to put them into the position of suffering a defeat at the hands of half-naked savages armed with knives and bows and war clubs? And if that occurred, would not other colonists who might have been leaning toward the revolutionary sentiment be inclined to draw back and lean instead toward continued colonialism?227