neither desert or yield; and when Girty recommenced his eloquence, a shot from some impatient listener suddenly stopped his mouth. Then commenced the siege. It was just sunrise in the valley, through which the quiet river flowed as peacefully as if war was never known. A calm, warm, bright September day-one of those days most lovely among the many pleasant ones of a year in the Ohio valley. And from sunrise till noon, and from noon till night of that day, the hundreds of besiegers and units of besieged, about and within Fort Henry, ceased not to load and discharge musket or rifle till it was too hot to hold. About noon the fire of the assailants slackened, and then, as powder was scarce in the fort, and it was remembered that a keg was concealed in the house of Ebenezer Zane, some sixty yards distant, it was determined to make an effort to obtain it. When the question "Who will go?" was proposed, however, so many competitors appeared, that time was wasted in adjusting the claims to what was almost sure death. The rest of the story is given by Mr. George S. McKiernan, from whom the whole account is derived. "At this crisis a young lady, the sister of Ebenezer and Silas Zane, came forward and desired that she might be permitted to execute the service. This proposition seemed so extravagant that it met with a peremptory refusal; but she instantly renewed her petition in terms of redoubled earnestness, and all the remonstrances of the colonel and her relatives failed to dissuade her from her heroic purpose. It was finally represented to her that either of the young men, on account of his superior fleetness and familiarity with scenes of danger, would be more likely than herself to do the work successfully. She replied that the danger which would attend the enterprise was the identical reason that induced her to offer her services, for, as the garrison was very weak, no soldier's life should be placed in needless jeopardy, and that, if she were to fall, the loss would not be felt. Her petition was ultimately granted, and the gate opened for her to pass out. The opening of the gate arrested the attention of several Indians who were straggling through the village. It was noticed that their eyes were upon her as she crossed the open space to reach her brother's house; but seized, perhaps with a sudden freak of clemency, or believing that a woman's life was not worth a load of gunpowder, or influenced by some other unexplained motive, they permitted her to pass without molestation. When she reappeared with the powder in her arms, the Indians suspecting, no doubt, the character of her burden, elevated their firelocks and discharged a volley at her as she swiftly glided toward the gate; but the balls flew wide of the mark, and the fearless girl reached the fort in safety with her prize."* The allies of Britain, finding rifles powerless when used against well-built block-houses and pickets, determined upon trying an extemporary cannon, and having bound a hollow maple with chains, having bored a touch hole, and plugged up one end, they loaded it liberally and leveled it at the gate of the impregnable castle. It was now evening, and the disappointed Wyandots gathered about their artillery, longing to see its loading of stones open to them the door of the American citadel. The match was applied; bursting into a thousand pieces, the cannon of Girty tore, maimed, and killed his copper-colored kinsfolk, but hurt no one else. During that night many of the assailants withdrew disheartened. On the morning of the 28th, fifteen men came from Cross creek to the aid of Fort Henry, and forty-one from Short creek. Of these, all entered the fort except Major McColloch, the leader of the Short creek volunteers, who was separated from his men, and left at the mercy of the natives. His escape is thus described by Mr. McKiernan : "From the very commencement of the war, his reputation as an Indian hunter was as great, if not greater, than that of any white man on the north-western border. He had participated in so many renconters, that almost every warrior possessed a knowledge of his person. Among the Indians his name was a word of terror; they cherished against him feelings of the most frenzied hatred, and there was not a Mingo or Wyandot chief before Fort Henry who would not have given the lives of twenty of his warriors to secure to himself the living body of Major McColloch. When, therefore, the man whom they had long marked out as the first object of their vengeance, appeared in their midst, they made almost superhuman efforts to acquire possession of his person. The fleetness of Mr. McColloch's well-trained steed was scarcely greater than that of his enemies, who, with flying strides, moved on in pursuit. At length the hunter reached the top of the hill, and, turning to the left, darted along the ridge with the intention of making the best of his way to Short creek. "A ride of a few hundred yards in that direction brought him suddenly in contact with a party of Indians, who were returning to *See American Pioneer, vol. ii. p. 309. their camp from a marauding excursion to Mason's Bottom, on the eastern side of the hill. This party being too formidable in numbers to encounter single-handed, the major turned his horse about, and rode over his own trace, in the hope of discovering some other avenue to escape. A few paces only of his countermarch had been made, when he found himself confronted by his original pursuers, who had, by this time gained the top of the ridge, and a third party was discovered pressing up the hill directly on his right. He was now completely hemmed in on three sides, and the fourth was almost a perpendicular precipice of one hundred and fifty feet descent, with Wheeling creek at its base. The imminence of his danger allowed him but little time to reflect on his situation. In an instant he decided upon his course. Supporting his rifle in his left hand, and carefully adjusting his reins with the other, he urged his horse to the brink of the bluff, and then made the leap which decided his fate. In the next moment the noble steed, still bearing his intrepid rider in safety, was at the foot of the precipice. McColloch immediately dashed across the creek, and was soon beyond the reach of the Indians."* Finding all attempts to take the fort fruitless, the Indians killed all the stock, including more than three hundred cattle, burned houses and fences, and destroyed every article of furniture. Of the forty-two men who had been in the fort, twenty-five were killed, all outside of the walls, and of the savages, probably one hundred perished. Some of the incidents of the first siege of Fort Henry here detailed,† are referred by some of the early historians of the west to the second siege of that fort, in 1782. The story of the wooden cannon made by the Indians, and the "gunpowder exploit," are especially referred to that period. In regard to the latter incident, there is a further difficulty arising, from the fact that another claimant for the honor of the exploit has appeared. The statement of Mrs. Cruger, made in 1849, affirms that at the attack on Fort Henry, in 1782, of which she was at that time an inmate, Miss Molly Scott, ran from the house of Colonel Zane to the fort, to obtain a supply of gunpowder for the use of those who were defending it. She avers, that she herself assisted in placing the *American Pioneer, vol. ii. p. 312. The authority here followed is that of the American Pioneer. Withers, in his borderwarfare, presents many of the incidents of the first siege, as here given, in 1782. powder in Molly Scott's apron; and affirms that Elizabeth Zane was not then at Wheeling.* There is a further difficulty in the conflicting statements made in regard to the presence of Simon Girty, at that siege. N. B. Craig, Esq., whose accuracy is unquestioned, says: "On the 28th of March, 1778, Simon Girty, Alexander McKee, and Matthew Elliott, made their escape from Pittsburgh, and ever after were active agents of the British government, and exercised much influence with the Indians against the United States." If the date here assigned to the flight of Girty and his companions is correct, it necessarily contradicts the statement that he was present at the siege of Wheeling, in 1777. As Girty's name is associated with the whole history of the Indian wars of that period, it may be proper to refer more particularly to his origin and history. The father of Girty, was a native of Ireland, who emigrated to, and settled in Pennsylvania about the year 1740. He was a man of bad character and dissolute habits. He had four sons, Thomas, Simon, George, and James. It is said he was murdered by the paramour of his wife, who afterward married her, and removed with her about 1754, to the extreme frontier. There the whole family were taken by the Indians, and the step-father was burned before the eyes of his family. Of the remaining members, Thomas was rescued by Colonel Armstrong, in the Kittanning expedition, and the rest were ransomed at various times from 1758 to 1765, but only the mother and Simon returned. George Girty was adopted by the Delawares, and continued with them until his death. He became a perfect savage, and adopted entirely the manners of the Indians. To consummate cunning, he added the most fearless intrepidity. He fought in the battle of Point Pleasant, Blue Licks, and Sandusky, and gained himself much distinction for skill and bravery. In his latter years he gave himself up to intemperance and died drunk, about 1813, on the Miami of the Lake. James Girty fell into the hands of the Shawanese, who adopted him as a son. As he approached manhood he became dextrous in all the arts of savage life. To the most sanguinary spirit he added all the vices of the depraved frontier men, with whom he frequently associated. It is represented that he often visited Kentucky at the time of its first settlement, and many of the inhabitants felt the * De Hass's Western Virginia, p. 280. effects of his courage and cruelty. Neither age nor sex found mercy at his hand. His delight was in carnage. When unable to walk in consequence of disease, he laid low with his hatchet captive women and children who came within his reach. Traders who were acquainted with him, say, so furious was he, that he would not have turned on his heel to save a prisoner from the flames. His pleasure was to see new and refined tortures inflicted, and to perfect this gratification he frequently gave directions. To this barbarian are to be attributed many of the cruelties charged on his brother Simon. Yet this monster was caressed by Elliott and Proctor. Thomas Girty alone, of the sons, returned to civilized life. He was one of Brady's spies in the Indian wars after the revolution, and died, perhaps in Butler county, Pennsylvania, in 1820. Simon Girty was the most notorious of the family. He was adopted by the Senecas, but returned with his mother to the settlements, after his release. He joined the army under Lord Dunmore, in 1774, and in that campaign was the companion of Simon Kenton, sleeping, as he said, often under the same blanket. At the revolution, he sought a commission in the continental army, was refused, and with McKee and Elliott, who were dissatisfied for the same reason, left the vicinity of Pittsburgh, and joined the Indians. In Kentucky and Ohio, he sustained the reputation of a relentless barbarian, and his name was associated with every thing cruel and fiend-like. This impression was in part erroneous. It is said to be a fact susceptible of proof, that through his importunities, many prisoners were saved from death. His influence among the Indians was great, and when he chose to be merciful, it was generally in his power to protect the imploring captive. His reputation was that of an honest man. In the payment of his debts he was scrupulously exact; knowing and duly appreciating integrity, he fulfilled his engagements to the last cent. It is stated that on one occasion he sold his horse, rather than incur the odium of violating his promise. He was a great lover of rum. Nothing could afford him more joy than a keg of this beverage. When intoxicated, in abuse he was indiscriminate, sparing neither friends nor foes. Then it was he had no compassion in his heart. Although much disabled by rheumatism, for the last ten years of his life he rode to his hunting grounds in pursuit of game. Suffering the most excruciating pains he often boasted of his warlike spirit, and it was his constant wish that he might breathe his last in battle. It is probable that he was gratified, for it is said he was cut to pieces by Johnston's mounted men at the battle of the Thames. This, however, is not certain. |