History of the Early Settlement of the Juniata Valley Part 13

Your most obedient, humble servants,

GEORGE WOODS.

THOMAS SMITH.

BEDFORD, _November 27, 1777_.

The persons mentioned as having been killed belonged mostly to the Cove; but the number was greatly exaggerated, as in fact but two were killed and one wounded. The other five escaped, and did not return until after the report of their death had gone abroad. The names of the killed we could not ascertain.

The band of Indians, after the Dunkard ma.s.sacre, worked their way toward the Kittaning war-path, leaving behind them some few stragglers of their party whose appet.i.te for blood and treasure had not been satiated. Among others, an old and a young Indian stopped at Neff's Mill. Neff was a Dunkard; but he was a single exception so far as resistance was concerned. He had constantly in his mill his loaded rifle, and was ready for any emergency. He had gone to his mill in the morning without any knowledge of Indians being in the neighborhood, and had just set the water-wheel in motion, when he discovered the two Indians lurking, within a hundred yards, in a small wood below the mill. Without taking much time to deliberate how to act, he aimed through the window, and deliberately shot the old Indian. In an instant the young Indian came toward the mill, and Neff ran out of the back door and up the hill. The quick eye of the savage detected him, and he fired, but missed his aim. Nothing daunted by the mishap, the savage followed up the cleared patch, when both, as if by instinct, commenced reloading their rifles. They stood face to face, not forty yards apart, on open ground, where there was no possible chance of concealment. The chances were equal: he that loaded first would be victor in the strife, the other was doomed to certain death. They both rammed home the bullet at the same time--with what haste may well be conjectured. This was a critical juncture, for, while loading, neither took his eye off the other. They both drew their ramrods at the same instant, but the intense excitement of the moment caused the Indian to balk in drawing his, and the error or mishap proved fatal, because Neff took advantage of it, and succeeded in priming and aiming before the Indian. The latter, now finding the muzzle of Neff's rifle bearing upon him, commenced a series of very cunning gyrations and contortions to destroy his aim or confuse him, so that he might miss him or enable him to prime. To this end, he first threw himself upon his face; then, suddenly rising up again, he jumped first to the right, then to the left, then fell down again. Neff, not the least put off his guard, waited until the Indian arose again, when he shot him through the head.

Neff, fearing that others might be about, left the mill and started to the nearest settlement. A force was raised and the mill revisited; but it was found a heap of smouldering cinders and ashes, and the dead bodies of the Indians had been removed. It is altogether likely that the rear of the savage party came up shortly after Neff had left, fired the mill, and carried away their slain companions.

For the part Neff took in the matter he was excommunicated from the Dunkard society. Nevertheless, he rebuilt his mill; but the Dunkards, who were his main support previously, refused any longer to patronize him, and he was eventually compelled to abandon the business.

On the 4th of May, 1781, a band of marauding savages entered the Cove and murdered a man, woman, and two children, and took one man prisoner, within a mile of the fort of John Piper, who was then colonel of the county. Names or particulars could not be ascertained.

At another time--period not remembered--several prisoners were taken.

The name of the Cove was changed from the "Great Cove" to "Morrison's Cove," in honor of a Mr. Morris, as early as 1770.

CHAPTER XIX.

TOMMY COLEMAN, THE INDIAN FIGHTER--SURPRISE OF THE DUNKARD MURDERERS, ETC.

Among all the early pioneers of the upper end of the Juniata Valley none was better known to the Indians than Thomas Coleman. His very name inspired them with terror; and, in all their marauding, they carefully avoided his neighborhood. He was, emphatically, an Indian-hater,--the great aim and object of whose life appeared to be centred in the destruction of Indians. For this he had a reason--a deep-seated revenge to gratify, a thirst that all the savage blood in the land could not slake,--superinduced by one of the most cruel acts of savage atrocity on record.

It appears that the Coleman family lived on the West Branch of the Susquehanna at an early day. Their habitation, it would also appear, was remote from the settlements; and their princ.i.p.al occupation was hunting and trapping in winter, boiling sugar in spring, and tilling some ground they held during the summer. Where they originally came from was rather a mystery; but they were evidently tolerably well educated, and had seen more refined life than the forest afforded.

Nevertheless, they led an apparently happy life in the woods. There were three brothers of them, and, what is not very common nowadays, they were pa.s.sionately attached to each other.

Early in the spring,--probably in the year 1763,--while employed in boiling sugar, one of the brothers discovered the tracks of a bear, when it was resolved that the elder two should follow and the younger remain to attend to the sugar-boiling. The brothers followed the tracks of the bear for several hours, but, not overtaking him, agreed to return to the sugar-camp. On their arrival, they found the remains of their brother boiled to a jelly in the large iron kettle! A sad and sickening sight, truly; but the authors of the black-hearted crime had left their sign-manual behind them,--an old tomahawk, red with the gore of their victim, sunk into one of the props which supported the kettle.

They buried the remains as best they could, repaired to their home, broke up their camp, abandoned their place a short time after, and moved to the Juniata Valley.

Their first location was near the mouth of the river; but gradually they worked their way west, until they settled somewhere in the neighborhood of the mouth of Spruce Creek, on the Little Juniata, about the year 1770. A few years after, the two brothers, Thomas and Michael, the survivors of the family, moved to the base of the mountain, in what now const.i.tutes Logan township, near where Altoona stands, which then was included within the Frankstown district.

These men were fearless almost to a fault; and on the commencement of hostilities, or after the first predatory incursion of the savages, it appears that Thomas gave himself up solely to hunting Indians. He was in all scouting parties that were projected, and always leading the van when danger threatened; and it has very aptly, and no doubt truly, been said of Coleman, that when no parties were willing to venture out he shouldered his rifle and ranged the woods alone in hopes of occasionally picking up a stray savage or two. That his trusty rifle sent many a savage to eternity there is not a shadow of doubt.

_He_, however, never said so. He was never known to acknowledge to any of his most intimate acquaintances that he had ever killed an Indian; and yet, strange as it may seem, he came to the fort on several occasions with rather ugly wounds upon his body, and his knife and tomahawk looked as if they had been used to some purpose. Occasionally, too, a dead savage was found in his tracks, but no one could tell who killed him. For such reserve Mr. Coleman probably had his own motives; but that his fights with the savages were many and b.l.o.o.d.y is susceptible of proof even at this late day. We may incidentally mention that both the Colemans accompanied Captain Blair's expedition to overtake the tories, and Thomas was one of the unfortunate "Bedford Scout."

To show how well Thomas was known, and to demonstrate clearly that he had on sundry occasions had dealings with some of the savages without the knowledge of his friends, we may state that during the late war with Great Britain, on the Canadian frontier, a great many Indians made inquiries about "_Old Coley_;" and especially one, who represented himself as being a son of Shingas, pointed out to some of Captain Allison's men, who were from Huntingdon county, a severe gash on his forehead, by which he said he should be likely to remember "Coley" for the balance of his life.

In the fall of 1777, Fetter's Fort was occupied by some twenty-five men capable of bearing arms, belonging to the Frankstown district. Among these were both the Colemans, their own and a number of other settler's families.

The Indians who had murdered the Dunkards, it appears, met about a mile east of Kittaning Point, where they encamped, (the horses and plunder having probably been sent on across the mountain,) in order to await the arrival of the scattered forces. Thomas and Michael Coleman and Michael Wallack had left Fetter's Fort in the morning for the purpose of hunting deer. During the day, snow fell to the depth of some three or four inches; and in coming down the Gap, Coleman and his party crossed the Indian trail, and discovered the moccasin tracks, which they soon ascertained to be fresh. It was soon determined to follow them, ascertain their force, and then repair to the fort and give the alarm. They had followed the trail scarcely half a mile before they saw the blaze of the fire and the dusky outlines of the savages seated around it. Their number, of course, could not be made out, but they conjectured that there must be in the neighborhood of thirty; but, in order to get a crack at them, Thomas Coleman made his companions promise not to reveal their actual strength to the men in the fort.

Accordingly they returned and made report--once, for a wonder, not exaggerated, but rather underrated. The available force, amounting to sixteen men, consisting of the three above named, Edward Milligan, Samuel Jack, William Moore, George Fetter, John Fetter, William Holliday, Richard Clausin, John McDonald, and others whose names are not recollected, loaded their rifles and started in pursuit of the savages. By the time they reached the encampment, it had grown quite cold, and the night was considerably advanced; still some ten or twelve Indians were seated around the fire. Cautiously the men approached, and with such silence that the very word of command was given in a whisper.

When within sixty yards, a halt was called. One Indian appeared to be engaged in mixing paint in a pot over the fire, while the remainder were talking,--probably relating to each other the incidents attending their late foray. Their rifles were all leaning against a large tree, and Thomas Coleman conceived the bold design of approaching the tree, although it stood but ten feet from the fire, and securing their arms before attacking them. The achievement would have been a brilliant one, but the undertaking was deemed so hazardous that not a man would agree to second him in so reckless and daring an enterprise. It was then agreed that they all should aim, and at the given word fire. Coleman suggested that each man should single out a particular savage to fire at; but his suggestion was lost upon men who were getting nervous by beginning to think their situation somewhat critical. Aim--we will not call it deliberate--was taken, the word "_fire_!" was given, and the sharp report of the rifles made the dim old woods echo. Some three or four of the savages fell, and those who were sitting around the fire, as well as those who were lying upon the ground, instantly sprang to their feet and ran to the tree where their rifles stood. In the mean time, Coleman said--

"Quick! quick! boys, load again! we can give them another fire before they know where we are!"

But, on looking around, he was surprised to find n.o.body but Wallack and Holliday left to obey his order! The number proving unexpectedly large, the majority became frightened, and ran for the fort.

The Indians, in doubt as to the number of their a.s.sailants, took an early opportunity to get out of the light caused by the fire and concealed themselves behind trees, to await the further operations of this sudden and unexpected foe.

Coleman, Wallack, and Holliday, deeming themselves too few in number to cope with the Indians, followed their friends to Fetter's Fort.

Early the next morning, all the available force of the fort started in pursuit of the Indians. Of course, they did not expect to find them at the encampment of the night previous; so they took provisions and ammunition along for several days' scout, in order, if possible, to overtake the savages before they reached their own country. To this end, Coleman was appointed to the command, and the march was among those denominated by military men as _forced_.

When they reached the scene of the previous night's work, the evidence was plain that the savages had departed in the night. This the hunters detected by signs not to be mistaken by woodsmen; there was not a particle of fire left, and the coals retained no warmth. The tracks of the savages west of the fire, too, showed that they conformed to those east of the fire, in appearance, whereas, those made by the hunters in the morning looked quite differently. It was then evident that the Indians had a start of some six or eight hours.

On the spot where the fire had been the small earthen paint-pot was found, and in it a portion of mixed paint. Near the fire, numerous articles were picked up:--several scalping-knives, one of which the owner was evidently in the act of sharpening when the volley was fired, as the whetstone was lying by its side; several tomahawks, a powder-horn, and a number of other trifling articles. The ground was dyed with blood, leaving no doubt remaining in regard to their execution the night previous. They had both _killed and wounded_,--but what number was to remain to them forever a mystery, for they carried both dead and wounded with them.

This was a singular trait in savage character. They never left the body of a dead or wounded warrior behind them, if by any possible human agency it could be taken with them. If impossible to move it far, they usually buried it, and concealed the place of burial with leaves; if in an enemy's country, they removed the remains, even if in a state of partial decay, on the first opportunity that offered. To prevent the dead body of a brave from falling into the hands of an enemy appeared with them a religious duty paramount even to sepulture. As an evidence of this, Sam Brady, the celebrated Indian-fighter, once waylaid and shot an old Indian on the Susquehanna who was accompanied by his two sons, aged respectively sixteen and eighteen years. The young Indians ran when their father fell, and Brady left the body and returned home.

Next morning, having occasion to pa.s.s the place, he found the body gone, and by the tracks he ascertained that it had been removed by the lads. He followed them forty miles before he overtook them, bearing their heavy burden with the will of st.u.r.dy work-horses. Brady had set out with the determination of killing both, but the sight so affected him that he left them to pursue their way unharmed; and he subsequently learned that they had carried the dead body one hundred and sixty miles. Brady said that was the only chance in his life to kill an Indian which he did not improve. It may be that filial affection prompted the young savages to carry home the remains of their parents; nevertheless, it is known that the dead bodies of Indians--ordinary fighting-men--were carried, without the aid of horses, from the Juniata Valley to the Indian burial-ground at Kittaning, and that too in the same time it occupied in making their rapid marches between the two points.

But to return to our party. After surveying the ground a few moments, they followed the Indian trail--no difficult matter, seeing that it was filled with blood--until they reached the summit of the mountain, some six or eight miles from the mouth of the Gap. Here a consultation was held, and a majority decided that there was no use in following them farther. Coleman, however, was eager to continue the chase, and declared his willingness to follow them to their stronghold, Kittaning.

This issue, successful though it was, did not fail to spread alarm through the spa.r.s.ely-settled country. People from the neighborhood speedily gathered their families into the fort, under the firm impression that they were to be hara.s.sed by savage warfare not only during the winter, but as long as the Revolutionary struggle was to continue. However, no more Indians appeared; this little cloud of war was soon dispelled, and the people betook themselves to their homes before the holidays of 1777, where they remained during the winter without molestation.

It is said of old Tommy Coleman--but with what degree of truth we are unable to say--that, about twenty years ago, hearing of a delegation of Indians on their way to Washington, he shouldered his trusty old rifle, and went to Hollidaysburg. There, hearing that they had gone east on the ca.n.a.l packet, he followed them some three miles down the towing-path, for the express purpose of having a crack at one of them.

This story--which obtained currency at the time, and is believed by many to this day--was probably put into circulation by some one who knew his inveterate hatred of Indians. An acquaintance of his informs us that he had business in town on the day on which the Indians pa.s.sed through; hence his appearance there. His gun he always carried with him, even on a visit to a near neighbor. That he inquired about the Indians is true; but it was merely out of an anxiety to see whether they looked as they did in days of yore. His business led him to Frankstown, but that business was not to shoot Indians; for, if he still cherished any hatred toward the race, he had better sense than to show it on such an occasion.

He died at his residence, of old age, about fifteen years ago, beloved and respected by all. Peace to his ashes!

[Ill.u.s.tration: ARCH SPRING.]

CHAPTER XX.

SINKING VALLEY--THE LEAD MINES--FORT ROBERDEAU--INDIAN MURDER, AND HEROIC CONDUCT OF A WOMAN--ENCOUNTER WITH A SAVAGE--MURDER OF ROLLER AND BEBAULT, ETC.

One of the most prominent points in Pennsylvania, during the Revolution, was Sinking Valley, owing, in a great measure, to the fact that it had a fort, under military discipline,--where the sentry marched upon ramparts, where the reveille aroused the inmates at the dawn of day, and where people felt secure in the immediate presence of muskets with bristling bayonets, a pair of cannon, and an abundance of ammunition, and where, for a long time, the greater part of the lead used by the Continental army was procured.

There is every reason to believe that the lead mines of Sinking Valley were known to the French as early as 1750. Although they searched extensively for minerals, it is not probable that they ventured as far into the Penn lands as Sinking Valley, unless the secret of the existence of the mines had been imparted to them by the Indians.

The Indians of the Juniata, after they had acquired the use of fire-arms, could always procure an abundance of lead. This, they said, they procured--almost pure--on a ridge, near where Mifflintown now stands, in Kishicoquillas Valley; and also at the foot, or in one of the ravines, of the mountain. With true Indian craft, the warriors kept the precise location of the lead mines a secret. The scarcity of lead, in early days, made it a valuable commodity to the settlers; and many an Indian's jug was filled with whiskey on promise of showing the lead mines--promises that were always "kept to the ear, but broken to the hope." It is, therefore, pretty evident that all the lead-ore the savages displayed was procured in Sinking Valley;--if they obtained any at other places along the Juniata, the mines have not yet been discovered, and not for the lack of many thorough searches for them, either.

The supposition that the French had been prospecting extensively in Sinking Valley many years ago is based upon the fact that, previous to Roberdeau's erecting the fort, several old drifts or openings were discovered, as well as an irregular trench, extending from the upper to the lower lead mines,--a distance of nearly six miles. The vestiges of this trench are still visible, and there is no question but what the digging of it and the immense amount of labor necessary for its construction was performed in the full confidence that they would be rewarded by the discovery of a silver mine, or, at least, an inexhaustible bed of pure lead-ore.

The fact that lead-ore existed in Sinking Valley was ascertained by the settlers about 1763, and the consequence was that a number of persons took up their residence there, but without purchasing lands. The certainty of the existence of lead, and the fabulous stories of the existence of various other precious metals, induced the proprietary family to reserve it to themselves, and to that end George Woods surveyed it for them a short time previous to the Revolution.

The earliest accounts we have of any permanent settlers in Sinking Valley bears date of 1760. There is a well-authenticated story of an occurrence that once took place in 1763, but neither names nor dates have been transmitted. Mr. Maguire had frequently heard the woman's name mentioned, who became quite a heroine, and lived in Sinking Valley until some time during the Revolution; but it had slipped his memory.

The story was that a man occupied a cabin in the upper end of the valley, and one day left it to go to the mouth of the Bald Eagle, leaving his wife and child at home. No savages had been in the neighborhood for some time, and, in fact, no friendly Indians either, except some few who resided in what is now known as Tuckahoe Valley.