by Jay Heavner
While Post was working his magic, Bouquet pressed westward over Laurel Ridge to Loyalhanna Creek. He arrived on September 7 and met Colonel James Burd, commanding one of the Pennsylvania battalions. Together, they erected another outpost and named it Fort Ligonier after General John Ligonier, a relative of Prime Minister William Pitt, who had authorized the campaign against the French. Forbes also realized he needed defensible places to fall back to quickly if his forces ran into trouble. Braddock had no such contingencies. This had been one big factor in his rout. They were within a scant fifty miles of Fort Duquesne and felt confident of success, much like Braddock had several years earlier.
A few short days later, Bouquet sent a reconnaissance force of 850 under the command of a headstrong man by the name of Major James Grant out toward the forks. Grant’s bungling, when he met a French and Indian force, resulted in his capture and the loss of 300 men. Bouquet was distraught by the setback, but the British forces still totaled over 6,000. He could afford to lose a few. Despite the defeat, the spirits of the troops remained high. They were very near the source of despair for the frontier settlers. It has been a long, torturous summer for the ones who stayed.
The French and Indians continued to harass and sometimes attack Fort Ligonier throughout September and October. Each time they failed and returned to Fort Duquesne, realizing the only thing that would stop the British juggernaut was the rapidly approaching winter, but the British did not know that.
It was not until November 2 that General Forbes, pale and emaciated from the disease wracking his intestines, reached Fort Ligonier. The weather took a turn for the worse, and he and the war council must make a hard choice. Should they press on to the forks of the Ohio or fall back and try again in the spring? The men, including George Washington and John Phares, reluctantly decided to wait.
The next evening, scouts came running into the fort and reported a French raiding party was sighted close to the fort. Lt. Col. George Mercer led a detachment of Virginians out to find and engage the enemy. They did, and a sharp skirmish ensued. Colonel George Washington was ordered by General Forbes to take another detachment of Virginia troops and support Mercer. Darkness continued to fall, and a fog arose, making visibility even worse. Washington’s forces cautiously approached the scene, but Mercer’s men mistook them for the French and opened fire. Washington’s men returned fire. Colonel Washington quickly realized the mistake and ran between the two forces ordering the men to cease fire. Before the fighting stopped, 14 Virginians died from friendly fire. The Colonel later confessed to John Phares that never in his life had he been so scared. John Phares, who was with him that deadly night, quickly agreed.
But all was not lost for the Virginians that night. They managed to capture 3 of the French. One was an English deserter who described the French position at their fort as desperate. Provisions and morale were low. Many soldiers left for winter quarters at other French fortifications, and there was more bad news for the French, but good for Forbes. The French’s Indian allies had nearly all left. Some chose to winter at their villages, and others, who had seen the massive English force, deserted the seemingly hopeless situation. With this bit of information, General Forbes pressed a final push to seize the vital forks of the Ohio.
On November 24, his army was only a day’s march from their objective. Indian scouts returned with news of smoke billowing from the directions of the French fort. Forbes sent cavalry ahead of the main force to report on conditions at the vital point. They found the French had destroyed everything they could not carry and burned the fort. Forbes arrived the next day and sent word to William Pitt of his success in capturing the forks. The British forces built a large fort there and kept it well manned. General Forbes had little time to enjoy this good fortune and would die from his ailment soon afterward.
Washington returned to Raytown with the Army and then retired to his home in Virginia. John Phares received permission to return to Fort Cumberland via Braddock’s Road. He took two horses with him, and in a small ravine near the Youghiogheny River, and he returned to a spot only he knew about. He dug till he found two buried cannons and stuffed his saddlebags full of gold, Braddock’s gold. When he could carry no more, he filled in the hole and carefully covered it. John Phares looked around making careful note of landmarks. There was much more gold to retrieve later.
John traveled through the woods of Pennsylvania and Maryland without incidence. Near Haystack Mountain, he took the path he used when he deserted from Braddock’s Army. How things had changed from that day. His horse stumbled, going up the steep bank from the Potomac and nearly fell with him on it. Fortunately, it recovered its footing. A fall here would have killed them both. He went through the short gap with the gushing springs from which both he and the horse drank till they were full. The stream led them to Patterson Creek. They forded the cold, icy stream carefully, and John was soon at his plot he had claimed by tomahawk rights. He went to the hidden fissure cave he once called home and buried the gold under rocks. If he had been alone, he would have slept in the cave, but he had two horses to worry about. Wolves and mountain lions might desire to make a meal of his animals, and he did not want to see that happen, so he slept in a crude lean-to shelter. Tomorrow he’d go to Fort Cumberland and receive his official discharge from the army. He’d use a little of his newfound wealth to purchase supplies and tools for building the barn and then his cabin. He and his animals would live in the barn until he could get his cabin finished. And all the time, he’d be thinking about what to do with the gold, Braddock’s gold.
Chapter 10
Two years passed since John Phares left his position as Colonel Washington’s aide. They were very productive years. With help from neighbors, he erected a small barn and cabin. Gone was the lean-to first used for shelter. He no longer needed the cave, though, on hot summer nights, he sometimes wondered if sleeping in the cool, damp hole may not be a good idea. The harvest from the land he cleared was good. Ample rains had fallen when needed, and his animals increased their number. Somewhere in the hills around him, his pigs were fattening themselves on chestnuts, acorns, and any small creatures not faster than the pig’s hungry mouths.
His pregnant wife Jenny would deliver soon, and he wanted to make the trip to the Youghiogheny River in Pennsylvania as short as possible. She was not happy with him leaving as her time drew near, but it was the best time in the year to get ginseng which had grown big and fat during the summer. The weather would take a turn for the worst in the near future, and travel would be difficult if not impossible. Going for ginseng root meant some quick cash and provided a reason for his journey to where it grew abundantly on the high plateau. A neighbor woman, the widow Wagoner, would stay with Jenny in his absence and help out. He needed to get the gold, Braddock’s gold, buried near the river while the frontier was peaceful. How long it would last, he did not know. Even though the French were defeated, the many tribes of Indians still were a formidable force and a threat to the settlers in the eastern Appalachians.
John traveled swiftly over the improved trails Braddock’s forces cut for his Army before the rout at the forks of the Ohio. Colonel Washington’s men upgraded it further in 1758 on orders from General Forbes. Forbes had not used this route on his march to the forks, but instead cut a new route through the highlands of Pennsylvania much to Washington’s dismay and protest. Just the same, it made John’s journey easier on the way west to the buried treasure.
He pushed himself and his two horses hard and made the trip in two days. On the morning of the third day, John found the secluded spot near the Youghiogheny River and dug up all the gold coins he could carry on the two animals. He filled in the hole which exposed the ends of cannons holding Braddock’s missing payroll and covered it carefully leaving little evidence the ground had been disturbed. The falling leaves of autumn would complete the hiding.
After noon, he returned along the same river toward home. He was not sure what he would tell Jenny about coming home empty-h
anded without some ginseng. The pregnant woman was not moving far from the house, and he knew he could get the gold to the fissure cave without her knowing, but what would he tell her about having no ginseng? There was plenty in the woods, but the harvesting of the plants by the local settlers had made it scarcer. Somehow, he did not think she’d believe him if he told her he found none. He knew of men, some of the long hunters, who had other women besides their wives when they lived away from home and also had children with them. He hoped she trusted him better than that, but still, she might wonder.
Somewhere ahead of him, he heard a crying that raised the hair on the back of his neck. A horse was screaming in pain, and the noise seemed to be coming from the river. He hurried forward and found a man trying to right a downed horse with a heavy load at a fording place. John tied his horses and ran into the stream to help the man and horse. There was no time for introductions, and the man was more than happy with unexpected help. Together they got the heavily burdened horse up and out of the swift-flowing water. They were exhausted when they reached the dry river bank and sat down breathing heavily. The other man was dressed like a typical frontiersman. Somehow, he had managed to keep his felt hat on during the confusion. He wore a buckskin frock, breeches, and moccasins. Between his pants, he spoke to John. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you. I thought I had lost my horse and ginseng.” He stopped to catch his breath. “Name’s Dan’l Boone. Sorry, I don’t know yours, but I know a friend when I see one.”
“You’re welcome.” John took another much-needed breath. “You looked like you could use some help, and it was me or nothin’.” He took another breath. “Name’s John, John Phares. It’s good to meet you, Dan’l, or is it Daniel Boone?”
“It don’t make much diff’rance what you call me, just as long as you don’t forgit to call me for supper.” They chuckled at the joke.
Daniel went on, “I’m much obliged for your help. Say you look familiar. Were you with General Braddock on his march here five years ago? It sure seems to me our paths have crossed somewheres before.”
John could feel his stomach churn. He was still worried someone would recognize him from his time in the British Army. To them, he was a deserter with a price on his head. John spoke carefully. “You know, you’re not the first person who’s told me that. Somewheres out here, I have a twin from another mother.”
Boone laughed at that. “Yeah, they tell me that me and my cousin Daniel Morgan look a lot alike, and havin’ the same first name don’t help.”
John said, “I think I may have met Morgan. Perhaps you recognize me from General Forbes campaign to the forks of the Ohio 2 years ago, or maybe I met you when I was Colonel Washington’s aide. I carried messages to the frontier forts all over Virginia and even made it to Fort Dobbs in North Carolina.”
Boone looked at him carefully. “Guess it could have been any of those. I got kinfolk down on the Yadkin River in North Carolina. Just the same, you done me a big favor today, and for that, I call you ‘friend.’ I owe you one. You appear to me as a man I can trust. Ain’t too many woulda done what you done for me just now.”
“Thank you,” John said. “Friends are always good to have here on the frontier. Which way are you going with that load of ginseng?”
“I’m heading for Winchester, Virginia. I heard tell they’re payin’ top price for it there. And you, which way are you headin’?”
“I’m headin’ the same direction, but I’m only goin’ as far as Ashby’s Fort cross the Potomac nears to Fort Cumberland. What you say we travel together? There’s still some unsavory characters roaming these woods, and there’s safety in numbers.”
“You make a good point. I’d be happy to have you as a trav’lin’ partner.”
And so it was. Over the next three days, the two men made their way to John’s home. John showed Daniel Boone the short cut he knew to Winchester via the gap in Knobley Mountain. On the second day, he also thought of an idea that would help him and Boone.
“Dan’l, he said. “I could use your help. I have my own reasons for traveling to Pennsylvania, and I told my wife I was goin’ for ginseng. You have some, and I need it. Would you consider ‘rentin’ it to me?”
Boone looked at him curiously. “I know we all have reasons for doin’ what we do, and I can understand a man wantin’ to keep them to hisself, but I don’t reckon I know why or what you mean by ‘rentin’ my ginseng. I think I’d like to hear a little more explanation of this.”
“What I can tell you is this. I told my wife I was going for ginseng. If I come back without it, she’s gonna wonder why. You have ginseng, and I don’t. Can I ‘rent’ it from you for a short while? I can pay you in gold for what the ginseng is worth and then some more as ‘rent.’ When we get to my cabin, you’ll buy it from me with the gold I gave you, but you keep the ‘rent’ money and ask no questions. You can then take the ginseng to Winchester and sell it.”
Boone rubbed his chin as he pondered this idea. He smiled, “You know, if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have that ginseng and probably not the horse either. I guess a man has a reason for everything and some he can keep to hisself, so Mr. Phares if you want to ‘rent’ my ginseng, I’m gonna let you under those generous terms you just proposed. I’m a man of my word, and I believe you are, too. Let’s shake on it,” and they did.
When they got to John’s cabin on the side of the hill, Jenny greeted them. She said she was having mild contractions, and the neighbor had gone for the midwife. John kissed her and walked her to the porch. He and Boone quickly exchanged the ginseng and gold as they had agreed. Out of Jenny’s hearing, he told Boone he’d like to do this yearly if possible. Boone thought about it, agreed, and the two men shook on it. He left for Winchester shortly afterward with directions containing another short cut that John knew.
Later that night, with help from the midwife, Jenny gave birth to a girl they named Jasmine. John wasn’t much of a praying man, though he knew the Good Lord watches over everyone from above. All in the cabin bowed their heads as he prayed, “Dear Lord, thank you for this new life, this child you have given us. Keep her healthy and safe from this day forward. Watch over my friend Boone. He needs it as we all do now and forever. Again, thank you for this child and my safe return home. Please keep Your eye on us. I know You watch over the tiny sparrow, and You’ll watch out for us. Amen.”
All present said ‘amen’ in agreement. Little could John know how his prayer would be answered.
Chapter 11
On an early spring morning in 1772, with the sun was just peeping over Middle Ridge to the east, John Phares sat on the porch of his old one-room log cabin just like he had the day before, but things would never be the same. Injun Joe was dead, and John had nearly lost his whole family yesterday on the worst day of his life.
The day started out like any other day. He awoke to find his wife’s warm body snuggled up next to him. It had been 12 years since he’d bought her indentured servant papers from Mr. Durham, a pompous Englishman passing through. John paid Durham far more than he needed to, but he wanted the man to go far away and never to come back. He had not returned, and John believed Durham dead.
John had found Jenny beautiful the first time he saw her, even though she wore a soiled dress and had uncombed hair. As a Christmas present, he’d torn her bondage papers up and given her freedom. She chose to stay and became his wife. He felt blessed as she had. Five little Phares children now ran around the homestead with Jasmine, aged 11, being the oldest.
This morn, Jenny woke early, also and the two consummated their love in the dark cabin before the children awoke. After Jenny went back to sleep, John put on his clothes and slipped out the door to the porch. He sat in a dark silence broken by a distant whippoorwill’s repeated call. He heard the door open, and five-year-old Billy walked out. His nightshirt nearly touched the ground. He yawned, stretched, and plopped down on the hard bench next to his father.
“Hi, little man. You’re up early,” said Jo
hn. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
“No, you and Mom was making too much noise.”
John grimaced a little, but in the darkness, the little boy did not notice. John thought all the kids were asleep, but it appeared he was wrong.
The little boy said, “You weren’t hurting Mom, were you? She sounded like she was in pain.”
John knew they’d been caught, and he had to tell the little boy something his five-year-old mind would understand. “Billy, I’d never hurt your Mom. I love her more than life itself. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He paused, “sometimes when mommies and daddies play, they may make a lot of noise, but they’re just having fun, understand?”
Billy nodded his head, covered in auburn hair. “Daddy,” he said. “When you and mommy play, could you play quieter like you sometimes tell us kids? It’s hard to sleep with you all playing so loudly.”
John said he would try, and the little boy curled up next to him. John put his arm around the small boy who was soon asleep again. When the boy began to snore, his dad picked him up carefully and gently and carried him back into the cabin. He laid him down next to his mother. It would not be the first time one or several of the children would be found in their parent’s bed in the morning.
But that was yesterday, and it seemed a lifetime had gone by since then. He looked at the funeral pyre prepared for old Injun Joe. The first day John had seen the old Indian, he’d taken pity on the poor old gray-haired man carrying a haversack with two books in it. A bunch of the boys was making fun of the sick little man and his books. Redskins were too dumb to read, they said, but John knew many whites could not either. John watched for a while but grew tired of the strong tormenting the weak. He separated them and remembered the laughter as he did. John said he would see the old Indian got well, and then he could go on his way. Didn’t he know they said the only good Indian was a dead one? He’d slit their throats while they slept, but John ignored them. Over the years, he had developed some empathy for the native population, which had been here before the white man. He remembered how the English pushed around the Scots and Irish in the old world, and he had been a Scot. They just wanted to be left alone and live their lives as they always had for hundreds of years, but even in Scotland, there had been wars and feuds among the various tribes and clans. Either way, there no going back to the way it had been.