As an Indian post of ancient date, none is more universally known than "Standing Stone," where Huntingdon now stands. The very earliest traders could never ascertain by Indian tradition how long it had been a village, but that it dated back to a very remote period may be judged from the fact that the land on the flat between Stone Creek and Huntingdon was under cultivation one hundred and five years ago. It was used as one extensive corn-field, with the exception of that portion lying near the mouth of the creek, where the Indian town stood, and where also was a public ground, used on great occasions for councils or dances.
The Standing Stone—that is, the original stone—was, according to John Harris, fourteen feet high and six inches square. It stood on the right bank of Stone Creek, near its mouth, and in such a position as to enable persons to see it at a considerable distance, either from up or down the river.
About this self-same Standing Stone there still exist contradictory opinions. These we have endeavored to ascertain; and, after weighing them carefully, we have come to the conclusion that no person now living ever saw part or parcel of the original stone, notwithstanding Dr. Henderson delivered what some are disposed to believe a portion of it to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.
The original Standing Stone, we are induced to believe, in addition to serving a similar capacity to that of a guide-board at a cross-road, was the official record of the tribe. On it, no doubt, were engraved all the important epochs in its history,—its wars, its mighty deeds, its prowess in battle, and its skill in the chase. It might, too, have served as a sacred tablet to the memory of many a noble chief who fell by the arrow of an enemy. These things were, no doubt, in cabalistic characters; and, although each inscription may have been small, its meaning may have taken in almost an unbounded scope, as Indian brevity generally does.
This stone was once the cause of a war. The Tuscaroras, residing some thirty or forty miles down the river,—probably in Tuscarora Valley,—wished to declare war against the tribe at Standing Stone, for some real or fancied insult, and for this purpose sent them repeated war-messages, which the tribe at the Stone refused to give ear to, knowing as they did the strength and power of the enemy. Taking advantage of the absence of a large part of the tribe on a hunt, the Tuscaroras, in great force, came upon the village, captured the stone, and carried it off. Immediately after the return of the warriors, the entire available war-force was despatched after the depredators, who were soon overtaken. A bloody conflict ensued, and the trophy was recaptured and carried back in triumph.
Dr. Barton, it is said, discovered that the word Oneida meant "Standing Stone," in the language of the Southern Indians. [2] The Oneida tribe of the Iroquois had a tradition that their forefathers came from the South; consequently, the tribe at Standing Stone may have been part of the Oneida tribe instead of Delawares, as was generally supposed. The Tuscaroras, according to history, came from the South and became one of the Iroquois confederation in 1712. The language of the two tribes in question, although not identical, bore a strong affinity to each other. Hence we may surmise that the characters upon the stone were understood by the Tuscaroras, and that it possessed, in their eyes, sufficient value to move it some forty or fifty miles, under what we should call disadvantageous circumstances, especially when it is known that stones of a better finish could have been found anywhere along the Juniata River.
There is no doubt at all but what the original stone was removed by the Indians and taken with them in 1754 or 1755, for it is a well-ascertained fact that the Indians in the valley, with some few exceptions, (Aughwick, for instance,) joined the French in the above years.
The first survey of the land on which Huntingdon now stands was made by Mr. Lukens, in behalf of a claimant named Crawford, in 1756. It is therein named as "George Crogan's improvement." It is not improbable that Crogan may have claimed the improved fields and site of the deserted village, but that he ever made any improvement beyond probably erecting a trading-post there is a matter of some doubt. His whole history proves that he was no improving man.
On the second stone erected were found the names of John and Charles Lukens, Thomas Smith, and a number of others, with dates varying from 1768 to 1770, cut or chiselled. This stone was most unquestionably erected, by some of the men whose names it bore, on the same spot where the original stone stood, but was subsequently removed to or near where the old court-house in Huntingdon formerly stood. This position it occupied for many years, and might still stand as a monument of the past, had not some Vandal taken it into his head to destroy it. One piece of it still remains in a wall of the foundation of a house in Huntingdon.
The old Indian graveyard (and an extensive one it must have been) was on the high ground, near where the present Presbyterian church stands. To the credit of the Huntingdon folks be it said, they have never permitted a general exhumation of the bones of the Indians, to fill scientific cabinets, gratify the morbid appetites of the curious, or even to satisfy the less objectionable zeal of the antiquarian.
The few white settlers who lived at the Stone, in 1762, partially erected a stockade fort; but before the spring of 1763 they were forced to abandon it, as well as their houses, and fly to Carlisle for protection. When the settlers returned, in 1770, the fort still stood, though partially decayed. Immediately on the breaking out of the war of the Revolution, the fort was rebuilt on a more extended scale by the few inhabitants of the town and surrounding country. It was located near where the court-house now stands, immediately on the bluff, and, according to the traces of it discovered by the present generation, must have covered ten acres of ground. It was strongly built; and, when the savages were in the midst of their depredations, it was the only reliable refuge—before the erection of the Lead Mine Fort, in Sinking Valley—for all the people residing as far west as the base of the Alleghany Mountains.
No actual attempt was ever made against Standing Stone Fort; neither were there ever any Indians seen, except on two or three occasions, very close to it. A party of lurking savages were once surprised and shot at by a number of scouts on the hill where the graveyard now stands; but they made good their escape without any injury being done.
At another time, by a display of cool courage, as well as shrewdness, that would do any general credit, the commander of the fort unquestionably saved the place from total annihilation. One morning a large body of savages appeared upon the ridge on the opposite side of the river, and, by theirmanœuvering, it was clearly evident that they meditated an attack, which, under the circumstances, must have proved disastrous to the settlers, for not more than ten men able to bear arms were in the fort at the time—the majority having left on a scouting expedition. The commander, with judgment that did him infinite credit, marshalled his men, and paraded them for half an hour in such a manner as to enable the Indians to see a constant moving of the middle of the column, but neither end of it, while the drums kept up a constant clatter. In addition to this, he ordered all the women out, armed them with frying-pans, brooms, or whatever he could lay his hands upon, and marched them about the enclosure after the same manner in which he did the men. The enemy could only make out the dim outlines of the people and hear the noise. The stratagem succeeded, and, after a very short council of war, the Indians disappeared.
Among those who figured about Standing Stone, at the beginning of the Revolution, were the Bradys. Hugh Brady's name appears in some of the old title-deeds; and the father of Sam. Brady (rendered famous by R. B. McCabe, Esq.) lived at the mouth of the little run opposite Huntingdon. Within the walls of Standing Stone Fort, General Hugh Brady and a twin-sister were born. All the Bradys went to the West Branch of the Susquehanna during the Revolution. Hugh entered the army at an early age, and, step by step, rose from the ranks to the exalted position he occupied at the time of his death. A characteristic anecdote is related of him. At one time he was lying ill at Erie, and his physician told him he could not survive. "Let the drums beat," said he; "my knapsack is swung, and Hugh Brady is ready to march!" He recovered, however, and died only a few years ago, at Sunbury.
The only massacre by Indians in the immediate vicinity of Standing Stone occurred on the 19th of June, 1777, at what was then known as the "Big Spring," two miles west of the fort. In consequence of hostile bands of Indians having been seen at a number of places in the neighborhood, and the general alarm which followed, people commenced flocking to the forts from every direction.
On the day above named, Felix Donnelly and his son Francis, and Bartholomew Maguire and his daughter, residing a short distance from the mouth of Shaver's Creek, placed a number of their movable effects upon horses, and, with a cow, went down the river, for the purpose of forting at Standing Stone. Jane Maguire was in advance, driving the cow, and the Donnellys and Maguire in the rear, on the horses. When nearly opposite the Big Spring, an Indian fired from ambuscade and killed young Donnelly. His father, who was close to him, caught him, for the purpose of keeping him upon the horse. Maguire urged the old man to fly, but he refused to leave his son. Maguire then rode to his side, and the two held the dead body of Francis. While in this position, three Indians rushed from their ambuscades with terrific yells, and fired a volley, one bullet striking Felix Donnelly, and the other grazing Maguire's ear, carrying away a portion of his hair. The bodies of both the Donnellys fell to the ground, and Maguire rode forward, passing (probably without noticing her) his daughter. The Indians, after scalping the murdered men, followed Jane, evidently with the intention of making a prisoner of her. The fleetest of them overtook her, and grasped her by the dress, and with uplifted tomahawk demanded her to surrender; but she struggled heroically. The strings of her short-gown gave way, and by an extraordinary effort she freed herself, leaving the garment in the hand of the savage; then, seizing the cow's tail, she gave it a twist, which started the animal running, and gave her an impetus which soon enabled her to pass her father. The savage still followed, but in the mean time Maguire had recovered from the consternation caused by the massacre, and immediately aimed his rifle at the Indian, when the latter took shelter behind a tree. At this juncture, a number of men who were pitching quoits at Cryder's Mill, on the opposite side of the river, who had heard the firing and the whoops of the savages, put off in a canoe to engage the Indians; but they were soon discovered, and the Indian, shaking Jane Maguire's short-gown derisively at them, disappeared. The men, doubtful as to the number of the enemy, returned to the mill, to await the arrival of a greater force.
Maguire and his daughter reached the fort in a state better imagined than described. The garrison was soon alarmed, and a number of armed men started in pursuit of the savages. At the mill they were joined by the men previously mentioned; and, although every exertion was made in their power, they could not get upon their trail, and the pursuit was abandoned.
The dead bodies of the Donnellys were taken to Standing Stone, and buried upon what was then vacant ground; but the spot where they now rest is pointed out in a garden in the heart of the borough of Huntingdon.
Jane Maguire, who certainly exhibited a very fair share of the heroism of the day in her escape from the savage, afterward married a man named Dowling, and moved to Raystown Branch, where she reared a family of children, some of whom are still living.
Opposite the mouth of the Raystown Branch lived Colonel Fee, an active and energetic man during the Revolution. He was in Captain Blair's expedition against the tories, and for a while served as a private in the army. His widow (a sister of the late Thomas Jackson, of Gaysport) is still living, at the advanced age of eighty-seven years, and to her we are indebted for much valuable information in the construction of these pages.
The Cryders, too, are worthy of a special notice. They consisted of a father, mother, and seven sons. They built a mill at the Big Spring, which served for the people of Standing Stone and the surrounding country. They were all men suitable for the times—rugged and daring. A majority of them were constantly in service during the war of the Revolution, either as frontier-men, scouts, or fort guards. Michael Cryder, the father, used to spend his days at his mill and his nights at the fort during the troublesome times, and it was himself and five of his sons who accomplished the then extraordinary achievement of running the first ark-load of flour down the Juniata River.
The Standing Stone is frequently mentioned in the Archives, but its name is mostly coupled with rumors, grossly exaggerated, of attacks by tories, &c. There is no doubt whatever but that great distress, principally arising from a want of provisions, prevailed there during the war.
When the alarms were most frequent, and Council had been importuned time and again to send provisions to Standing Stone, as well as men for its defence, and munitions, a circular was issued to the county lieutenants, dated July 16, 1778, from which we extract the following:—
It is proper to acquaint you that Colonel Broadhead's regiment, now on a march to Pittsburg, is ordered by the Board of War to the Standing Stone; and we have ordered three hundred militia from Cumberland, and two hundred from York, to join them.
This promise to the ear of the affrighted settlers was broken to the hope. Only seventy of the Cumberland militia were taken to the Standing Stone, and thirty of them soon after removed to garrison the Lead Mine Fort.
Huntingdon was laid out previous to the commencement of hostilities—probably in 1775,—but it retained the name of Stone Town for many years. With the exception of Frankstown, it is the oldest town on the Juniata. On the formation of the county, in 1787, it took the same name. The county, during the late war with Great Britain, furnished three full companies; and, although it once was the stronghold of tories, we can now safely say that it stands among the most patriotic in the State.
SCENE BELOW WILLIAMSBURG.
The first outbreak of the war in 1775 found the frontier inhabitants few in number and without arms. Living in a remote part of the State, where no invading foe would be likely to come, many young and vigorous men went forward and joined the army. This fancied security, however, proved a sad delusion to the frontier-men; and the absence of any regular means of defence was only severely felt when the savages came down from the mountain, ripe for rapine, blood, and theft. The fact that the northwestern savages had allied themselves to the English was only fully realized by the residents of the Juniata Valley when the painted warriors came down the Kittaning War Path, and commenced their infernal and atrocious work by scalping women and innocent babes.
The first alarm and panic over, people collected together and consulted about some means of defence. The more prudent were in favor of abandoning their farms and retiring to some of the eastern settlements, which many did, especially after it was discovered that so many of the king's subjects were likely to remain loyal instead of joining the cause of the patriots. The more daring would not agree to abandon their homes, but at once pledged themselves to defend their firesides at the risk of their lives.
To this end, in the fall of 1777, and in the spring of 1778, a number of fortifications were commenced, the farms abandoned, or partially so, and the inhabitants assumed an attitude of defence. These forts were generally stockades, built of logs or puncheons, with loop-holes made to flare on the outside, in order to bring rifles to bear in several directions.
The first of these forts was built near where McCahen's Mill now stands, which was called Fetter's or Frankstown, about a mile above Hollidaysburg. A barn on the flat opposite the second lock, a mile below Hollidaysburg, was turned into a fort and called Holliday's. It was an old barn, but very large, and belonged to one Peter Titus. Through the energy of Mr. Holliday and a few others, it was made comfortable, but not deemed very secure. These forts served for the families in what was termed the Frankstown district, comprising not only Frankstown, but all the surrounding country. In Canoe Valley a fort was built, called Lowry's Fort, but it was small and inconvenient; and the house of Matthew Dean, a mile farther up, was also turned into a temporary fortress in 1777. These served the people of Canoe Valley and Water Street. The people of Hartslog Valley erected a fort south of Alexandria, on Cannon's mill-run, called Lytle's. A large and substantial garrison, called Hartsock's Fort, was built in Woodcock Valley, which served for the people of that valley and also for the residents of the middle of the Cove. The inhabitants of the lower end of the Cove, and along Clover Creek, forted at the house of Captain Phillips, some two or three miles above where Williamsburg now stands, which was turned into a temporary fortress. Anderson's Fort was erected where Petersburg now stands, while along Shaver's Creek there were two others—one at General McElery's, and the other at Alexander McCormick's, toward Stone Creek. The latter was merely a house fortified without additional buildings, as was also the house of Captain E. Rickets, in Warrior's Mark. Forts were also built at Dunning's Creek, and on the Raystown Branch, while the forts at Standing Stone and Bedford were enlarged and improved. The year following, a very substantial fort was built at the residence of Jacob Roller, in Sinking Valley, to accommodate the large influx of people into the valley. In the fall of 1778, Fort Roberdeau, or as it was better known, the Lead Mine Fort, in Sinking Valley, was completed. It was the largest as well as the best-defended post on the frontier. It was built under the superintendence of General Roberdeau, and occupied by Major Cluggage, with a regular company from Cumberland county. On the ramparts two cannon were mounted, and in the fortress there were plenty of small-arms and ammunition. This fort was strengthened by government. Lead was exceedingly scarce, and a high value was attached to it; and, fearing that the mines might fall into the hands of the enemy, the most vigilant watch was kept and the most rigid military discipline enforced.
During the summer of 1776, very few depredations were committed; but in the following year, as succeeding chapters will show, the incursions and massacres of the Indians were so bold and cruel that the utmost consternation prevailed, and business was in a great measure suspended. The settlers managed to get their sowing done in both fall and spring, but much was sowed that never was reaped. To add to their deplorable condition, the horrors of starvation were constantly staring them in the face.
In order to get in crops, it was necessary to have the reapers guarded and sentinels posted at each corner of a field, while half-grown boys followed in the very footsteps of the laborers, carrying their rifles loaded and primed for defence. By such means they managed to get a scant supply of grain.
The cattle were suffered to graze at large, for seldom, if ever, any of them were molested. Hogs, too, were suffered to run at large in the woods, feeding upon roots and acorns. When meat was wanted, a party ran down a hog or heifer, butchered it, and took it to the fort. As for such luxuries as coffee, tea, sugar, &c., they were among the missing, and little cared for.
It is not, we hope, to the discredit of any of the best men in the Juniata Valley now, to say that their fathers were born in forts and rocked in sugar-troughs, and their grandfathers wore entire suits, including shoes, made of buckskin, lived sometimes on poor fare, and short allowance at that. They were the men whose sinewy arms hewed down the monarchs of the forest, and, with shovel, hoe, plough, and pick, that we might enjoy the bounties of mother earth when they were mouldering in the bosom thereof, made "waste places glad" and the wilderness to blossom like the rose. Hallowed be their names! But, while we raise the tuneful lay to sing psalms of praise to the glorious old pioneers who by hardship and toil have entailed such blessings upon us, is it not a melancholy reflection to think that in but a few succeeding generations the scanty pages of ancient histories alone will be the monuments to chronicle their deeds?
We have been unable to procure any thing like a full and complete list of the early settlers of the entire valley; yet we deem it necessary to give what we have procured, as a necessary adjunct to our work. It will be perceived that many of the names are familiar, and the descendants are still scattered profusely over this section of the country, as well as the Union.
Mr. Bell, in his Memoir, states that, at the time of his earliest recollection, between the Stone (Huntingdon) and the mountain, the pioneers had principally settled along the streams. The prevailing religion was the Presbyterian, although there were Lutherans and Roman Catholics, "and probably as many who professed no religion at all as all the other denominations put together."
In addition to those whose names have already appeared, or will appear hereafter, we may incidentally mention, as early settlers about Lewistown, the McClays, McNitts, and Millikin; west of Lewistown, along the river, the Junkins, Wilsons, Bratton, and Stackpoles.
HART'S WATERING PLACE.
At Huntingdon, Ludwig Sills, Benjamin Elliot, Abraham Haynes, Frank Cluggage, Mr. Allabaugh, and Mr. McMurtrie; west of Huntingdon, in the neighborhood of Shaver's Creek, Samuel Anderson, Bartholomew Maguire, General McElevy, McCormick, and Donnelly. Of course, this place was settled at a later day than the country farther east.
The first house erected where Alexandria now stands was located near a spring, and was built and occupied by two young Scotchmen, named Matthew Neal and Hugh Glover, as a kind of trading-post. They dealt in goods generally, and in whiskey particularly. The natural consequences of a free indulgence in the latter were fights innumerable, "even in them days," and the place received the euphonious title of "Battle Swamp," which clung to it for many years. Near that place, at what was called "Charles's Fording of the Big Juniata," was the celebrated log which gave rise to the name of the valley. Charles Caldwell lived in the neighborhood—was the oldest settler, and the only one residing within two miles of "Battle Swamp." In what then constituted the valley—say in 1776—lived John Tussey, Robert Caldwell, and Edward Rickets, on the banks of the Little Juniata. On the main stream, or what was then termed the Frankstown Branch, on the northwest side, resided John Bell, William Travis, James Dean, Moses Donaldson, and Thomas Johnston. On the southwest bank resided John Mitchell and Peter Grafius. George Jackson lived on the banks of the Little Juniata, probably a mile from the mouth of Shaver's Creek; and a mile farther up lived Jacob and Josiah Minor. In the neighborhood of Water Street and Canoe Valley, John and Matthew Dean, Jacob Roller, John Bell, Lowry, Beattys, Moreheads, Simonton, Vanzant, John Sanders, Samuel Davis, Edward Milligan. Near Frankstown, and in it, Lazarus Lowry, the Moores, Alexander McDowell. West of Frankstown, Joseph McCune, Mclntyre, John McKillip, McRoberts, and John Crouse. Most of the latter lived along where the Reservoir now is—the building of which destroyed the old McCune and McRoberts farms. On the flat, west of Frankstown, lived Peter Titus and John Carr; in the Loop, A. Robinson and W. Divinny; John Long, near where Jackson's farm now is; Foster, where McCahen's Mill now stands; and a little distance farther west, David Bard, a Presbyterian preacher; Thomas and Michael Coleman, Michael Wallack, James Hardin, a Mr. Hileman, and David Torrence, in the neighborhood of where Altoona now stands. Of course, this list does not comprise all the old settlers, nor probably even a majority of them, but we copy a portion of the names from Mr. Bell's Memoir. A number of them were given to us by Maguire, and some were found in an old ledger, belonging to Lazarus Lowry when he kept store in Frankstown in 1790.
The man Hart, whose name is perpetuated, in connection with his log, by the valley we have spoken of, was an old German, who followed the occupation of trading among the Indians. He was probably the first permanent white settler along the Juniata west of the Standing Stone; and, long before he settled, he crossed and recrossed the Alleghany Mountains, by the old war-path, with his pack-horses. "John Hart's Sleeping Place" is mentioned, in 1756, by John Harris, in making an estimate of the distance between the rivers Susquehanna and Alleghany. Hart's Sleeping Place is about twelve miles from the junction of the Burgoon and Kittaning Buns, and still retains its name. When he took up his residence along the river, he hewed down an immense tree, and turned it into a trough, out of which he fed his horses and cattle; hence the name, "Hart's Log."
It is stated that upon one occasion, when Hart was an old man, some savages came into his settlement on a pillaging excursion. They knew Hart, and went to his cabin, but he happened to be from home. On his log they left a tomahawk, painted red, and a small piece of slate upon which rude hieroglyphics were drawn—one resembling an Indian with a bundle upon his back, over whose head were seven strokes and whose belt was filled with scalps. In front of this drawing was the sun rising, and behind them a picture of the moon.
On Hart's return, he soon found that Indians had been about. The meaning of the articles left he could readily decipher. The red hatchet upon the log signified that Indians were about, but to him they laid down the hatchet. The picture of the rising sun signified that they were going to the east. The strokes indicated the number of warriors, and the bundle and scalps intimated that they would both plunder and murder. The moon signified that they would return at night.
Hart, although he felt safe under such an assurance, had no desire to encounter the red-skins; so he scratched upon the reverse of the slate the outline of a heart, and laid by the side of it a pipe—which, interpreted, meant, "Hart smokes with you the pipe of peace," and left.
On his return next day he found the Indians had returned, and passed the night at his log, where they had left a quantity of pewter platters, mugs, &c. It afterward appeared that they had been at several houses, but the inmates had fled. From one they stole a quantity of silver money, and at the house of a Dunkard they stole the pewter-ware. At the log they attempted to run the metal into bullets, but, finding it a failure, they probably left the heavy load in disgust.
TUB MILL AT BARRE FORCE, LITTLE JUNIATA.
Among the vicissitudes incident to the settlement of the valley was a very serious one, in the shape of sometimes an absolute want of flour—not always owing to a lack of grain, but the want of mills. Especially did this operate seriously during the Revolution. The few mills at such great distances apart rendered it necessary for parties of neighbors to join in company, arm themselves, and go to mill together—all waiting until the grain was turned into flour. The want of adequate machinery prevented the erection of mills, and those that were built prior to the Revolution, and during the continuance of the war, could scarcely do the requisite amount of work for the country, sparsely as it was settled. To look at some of the old gearing and machinery in use then would only confirm the adage that "necessity is the mother of invention."
The late Edward Bell, of Blair county, who rose to competence by his own indomitable energy and perseverance, and commanded the esteem and respect of all who knew him, once boasted to us that the first shoes he ever wore he made for himself in Fort Lowry.
"And," said he, "I made them so well that I soon became shoemaker to the fort. There is no doubt but that I could have followed the business to advantage; but I never liked it, so I served a regular apprenticeship to the millwrighting."
It is to this circumstance, then, that we are indebted for the following unique description of the old continental mill, which still stands at J. Green & Company's (formerly Dorsey's) forge, on the Little Juniata, in Huntingdon county. It was built before the Revolution,—as near as can be ascertained, in 1774,—by Jacob and Josiah Minor. Mr. Bell, in his manuscript, says:—
It was a curious piece of machinery when I first saw it. The house was about twelve feet high, and about fourteen feet square, made of small poles and covered with clapboards. There was neither floor nor loft in it. The husk was made of round logs built into the wall; the water or tub wheel was some three feet in diameter, and split boards driven into the sides of the shaft made the buckets. The shaft had a gudgeon in the lower end and a thing they called a spindle in the upper end, and was not dressed in any way between the claws. The stones were about two feet four or six inches in diameter, and not thick, and in place of a hoop they had cut a buttonwood-tree that was hollow and large enough to admit the stones, and sawed or cut it off to make the hoop. The hopper was made of clapboards, and a hole near the eye of the stone answered for the dampsil, with a pin driven in it, which struck the shoe every time the stone revolved. The meal-trough, made out of part of a gun, completed the grinding fixtures. The bolting-chest was about six feet long, two and half feet wide, and four feet high, made of live-wood puncheons, split, hewed, and jointed to hold flour, with a pair of deer-skins sewed together to shut the door. There was not one ounce of iron about the chest or bolting-reel. It had a crank or handle on one end, made of wood—the shaft, ribs, and arms, of the same material; and the cloth was leona muslin, or lining that looked like it.
Rather a one-horse concern for our day and generation! and its capacity must have been about as one to one thousand, when compared with the mills of the present age. We should like to see how some of the people of the valley now would relish bread baked from flour bolted through Leona muslin! It might do for dyspepsia; indeed, we doubt whether such a disease was known in the valley at so early a day.
The mill of which Mr. Bell speaks, although it may have been the first in his neighborhood, was by no means the first driven by the waters of the Juniata. William Patterson erected a mill, where Millerstown now stands, as early as 1758, which, however, was carried off by a flood a year or so after it was in operation.
The first mill in the Upper Valley was built on Yellow Creek, by the squatters, previous to the edict of the Penn family which destroyed the cabins; but in what year, or by whom built, or what its ultimate fate was, we are unable to say.
The second mill in the valley was built where Spang's Mill now stands, in Blair county, then considered a part of the Cove. It was erected by a man named Jacob Neff, a Dunkard. This mill was burned down during the Revolution by the Indians, but speedily rebuilt, and stood for many years thereafter.
The third was the "Tub" Mill, of which Mr. Bell gives a description. The term tub was applied to it in consequence of the peculiar formation of the water-wheel. Nearly all the mills of those days were worked with a tub-wheel.
Directly after, a mill was erected by a Mr. Fetter, near where McCahen's Mill now stands, near Hollidaysburg. No traces whatever are left of it.
About the same period, two brothers, named Beebault, built a mill, almost the counterpart of the Minor Mill, at the mouth of Spruce Creek. Relics of this mill stood until within a few years.
The next was a small mill built by a man named Armitage, at Mill Creek, below Huntingdon.
Nathaniel Garrard built one in Woodcock Valley, about six miles from Huntingdon.
Another was built in the vicinity of Frankstown; another near where Martha Forge, in the Gap, now stands.
Cryder's Mill, above Huntingdon, was finished about 1776.
These were all the mills that existed in the upper end of the valley prior to the Revolution. Although small, they were evidently of immense value—people having sometimes been compelled to travel some forty miles to obtain their services. The vestiges of all are gone, like shadows that have passed away, save the old Continentaller described by Mr. Bell. It alone stands, a relic of the past.
"The Great Cove, Little Cove, and Canolloways," are mentioned frequently in government papers as far back as 1749, Indian traders having penetrated them at a much earlier date than that; yet they only figure prominently from that period. The Great Cove, now known as Morrison's, commences at Pattonsville, in Bedford county, and ends at Williamsburg, on the Juniata—bounded by Dunning's and Lock Mountains on the west, and Tussey Mountain on the east. For fertile limestone land, beautiful scenery, and splendid farms, few valleys in the State equal—none surpass—Morrison's Cove.
The earliest settlement of the cove was effected by Scotch-Irish, as early as 1749; but they shared the fate of the burnt-cabin folks when Secretary Peters answered the prayers of the Indians, and were expelled. Nothing daunted, however, many of them returned, and commenced improving; that, too, before the scions of "Father Onus" had acquired the right, title, and interest, to all and singular these fine lands, for the munificent sum of £400!
The greater portion of the beautiful valley, however, was almost unexplored until the Penns made the new purchase. About 1755, a colony of Dunkards took up the southern portion of the Cove, and their descendants hold possession of it to this day. They have unquestionably the finest farms, as well as the most fertile land, in the State; and right glad should we be to end their portion of the chapter by saying so, or even by adding that for thrift and economy they stand unsurpassed; but a sense of candor compels us to speak of them as they are,—"nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice."
In the first place, let it be understood that we are in no particle indebted to them for one iota of the blessings of government we enjoy. They are strict non-resistants; and in the predatory incursions of the French and Indians, in 1756-63, and, in fact, during all the savage warfare, they not only refused to take up arms to repel the savage marauders and prevent the inhuman slaughter of women and children, but they refused in the most positive manner to pay a dollar to support those who were willing to take up arms to defend their homes and their firesides, until wrung from them by the stern mandates of the law, from which there was no appeal.
They did the same thing when the Revolution broke out. There was a scarcity of men. Sixty able-bodied ones among them might readily have formed a cordon of frontier defence, which could have prevented many of the Indian massacres which took place between 1777 and 1780, and more especially among their own people in the Cove. But not a man would shoulder his rifle; they were non-resistants! They might, at least, have furnished money, for they always had an abundance of that, the hoarding of which appeared to be the sole aim and object of life with them. But, no; not a dollar! They occupied neutral ground, and wished to make no resistance. Again; they might have furnished supplies. And they did furnish supplies to those who were risking their lives to repel the invaders,—but it was only when the almighty dollar accompanied the demand.
After the massacre of thirty of them, in less than forty-eight hours, Colonel Piper, the lieutenant-colonel of Bedford county, made a stirring appeal to them. But it was of no avail; they were non-resistants, and evidently determined to remain such.
Of the peculiar religious tenets of these primitive people we do not profess to know any thing; hence our remarks are unbiassed. We are solely recording historical facts.
As a curious anomaly in the history of the present generation, it may be stated that, although they perform that part of the compact between government and a good citizen which relates to paying taxes, they never vote, neither can the most seductive persuasions of politicians bring them to the polls. Like their forefathers, they are non-resistant—producers, but non-consumers.
During the Indian wars of 1762, quite a number of murders were committed in the Cove, and many captives taken, but the particulars are too vague for history. Although we made every effort to ascertain the names of some of the massacred and the circumstances attending their massacre, we signally failed. It may, therefore, be supposed that, in the absence of any record, there is no other method of ascertaining facts extant.
During the Great Cove massacre, among others carried into captivity was the family of John Martin. This incursion was indeed a most formidable one, led by the kings Shingas and Beaver in person. How many were killed there is no living witness to tell; neither can we conjecture the number of prisoners taken. The following petition was sent by John Martin to council:—
August 13, 1762.
The Humble Petition of Your Most Obedient Servant Sheweth, Sir, may it pleas Your Excellancy, Hearing me in Your Clemancy a few Words. I, One of the Bereaved of my Wife and five Children, by Savage War at the Captivity of the Great Cove, after Many & Long Journeys, I Lately went to an Indian Town, viz., Tuskaroways, 150 miles Beyond Fort Pitts, & Entrested in Col. Bucquits & Col. Croghan's favor, So as to bear their Letters to King Beaver & Capt. Shingas, Desiring them to Give up One of my Daughters to me, Whiles I have Yet two Sons & One Other Daughter, if Alive, Among them—and after Seeing my Daughter with Shingas he Refused to Give her up, and after some Expostulating with him, but all in vain, he promised to Deliver her up with the Other Captives to yr Excellency.
Sir, yr Excellency's Most Humble Servt, Humbly & Passionately Beseeches Yr Beningn Compassion to interpose Yr Excellencies Beneficent influence in favor of Yr Excellencies Most Obedient & Dutiful Servt.
John Martin.
After the march of General Forbes from Raystown, and immediately preceding it, no Indian depredations were committed in the Cove up to the commencement of hostilities between the Colonies and Great Britain. The Indians in the French interest were constantly on the alert; and their spies prowling on the outskirts did not fail to report at head-quarters the arrival at Raystown of Colonel Boquet and his army, the formidable bearing and arms of which convinced the savages that it was prudent to keep within the bounds of the French power.
The first Indian depredations of the Revolution in the Juniata Valley were committed in November, 1777. A large body of Indians—not less than thirty—armed with British rifles, ammunition, tomahawks, scalping-knives, and all other murderous appliances they were capable of using, came into the settlement with the avowed intention of gathering scalps for His Britannic Majesty's officers at Detroit. Their coming was not unlooked-for, but the settlers were unprepared for them. The constant rumors afloat that a large body of savages, British, and tories, were coming, struck the people with so much panic that there was no effort made to give any such force as might come a warlike reception, but their energies were concentrated in measures of defence.
The first Indian depredators, or at least the greater portion of them, were seen at a camp-fire by a party of hunters; and if the proper exertions had been made to cut them off, few other outrages would have followed. The supposition is that there were two parties of about fifteen each, who met at or near Neff's Mill, in the Cove. On their way thither, the one party killed a man named Hammond, who resided along the Juniata, and the other party killed a man named Ullery, who was returning from Neff's Mill on horseback. They also took two children with them as prisoners.
The alarm was spread among the inhabitants, and they fled to the nearest forts with all despatch; and on this first expedition they would have had few scalps to grace their belts, had the Dunkards taken the advice of more sagacious people, and fled too; this, however, they would not do. They would follow but half of Cromwell's advice:—they were willing to put their "trust in God," but they would not "keep their powder dry." In short, it was a compound they did not use at all.
The savages swept down through the Cove with all the ferocity with which a pack of wolves would descend from the mountain upon a flock of sheep. Some few of the Dunkards, who evidently had a latent spark of love of life, hid themselves away; but by far the most of them stood by and witnessed the butchery of their wives and children, merely saying, "Gottes wille sei gethan." [3] How many Dunkard scalps they carried to Detroit cannot now be, and probably never has been, clearly ascertained,—not less than thirty, according to the best authority. In addition to this, they loaded themselves with plunder, stole a number of horses, and under cover of night the triumphant warriors marched bravely away.
Thomas Smith and George Woods, both, we believe, justices of the peace at the time, wrote to President Wharton as follows:—
November 27, 1777.
Gentlemen:—The present situation of this country is so truly deplorable that we should be inexcusable if we delayed a moment in acquainting you with it. An Indian war is now raging around us in its utmost fury. Before you went down they killed one man at Stony Creek; since that time they have killed five on the mountain, over against the heads of Dunning's Creek, killed or taken three at the Three Springs, wounded one, and killed some children by Frankstown; and had they not providentially been discovered in the night, and a party gone out and fired on them, they would, in all probability, have destroyed a great part of that settlement in a few hours. A small party went out into Morrison's Cove scouting, and unfortunately divided; the Indians discovered one division, and out of eight killed seven and wounded the other. In short, a day hardly passes without our hearing of some new murder; and if the people continue only a week longer to fly as they have done for a week past, Cumberland county will be a frontier. From Morrison's, Crayl's, and Friend's Coves, Dunning's Creek, and one-half of the Glades, they are fled or forted; and, for all the defence that can be made here, the Indians may do almost what they please. We keep out ranging-parties, in which we go out by turns; but all that we can do in that way is but weak and ineffectual for our defence, because one-half of the people are fled: those that remain are too busily employed in putting their families and the little of their effects that they can save and take into some place of safety, so that the whole burden falls upon a few of the frontier inhabitants, for those who are at a distance from danger have not as yet offered us any assistance. We are far from blaming the officers of the militia because they have not ordered them out, for if they had, they really can be of little or no service, not only for the foregoing reasons, but also for these:—Not one man in ten of them is armed. If they were armed, you are sensible, take the country through, there is not one fourth man that is fit to go against Indians, and it might often happen that in a whole class there might not be a single person who is acquainted with the Indians' ways of the woods; and if there should be a few good men, and the rest unfit for that service, those who are fit to take the Indians in their own way could not act with the same resolution and spirit as if they were sure of being properly supported by men like themselves. The consequence would be that the Indians, after gaining an advantage over them, would become much more daring and fearless, and drive all before them. A small number of select men would be of more real service to guard the frontiers than six times that number of people unused to arms or the woods. It is not for us to dictate what steps ought to be taken, but some steps ought to be taken without the loss of an hour. The safety of your country, of your families, of your property, will, we are convinced, urge you to do every thing in your power to put the frontiers in some state of defence. Suppose there were orders given to raise about one hundred rangers, under the command of spirited officers, who were well acquainted with the woods and the Indians and could take them in their own way. They could be raised instantly, and we are informed there are a great number of rifles lying in Carlisle useless, although the back country is suffering for the want of arms. It was a fatal step that was taken last winter in leaving so many guns when the militia came from camp; about this place, especially, and all the country near it, they are remarkably distressed for the want of guns, for when the men were raised for the army you know we procured every gun that we could for their use. The country reflect hard on us now for our assiduity on those occasions, as it now deprives them of the means of defence. But this is not the only instance in which we hear reflections which are not deserved. The safety of our country then loudly called on us to send all the arms to the camp that could be procured, and it now as loudly calls on us to entreat that we may be allowed some as soon as possible, as also some ammunition; as that which was intrusted to our care is now almost delivered out to the officers who are fortifying, and what remains of it is not fit for rifles. We need not repeat our entreaties that whatever is done may be done as soon as possible, as a day's delay may be the destruction of hundreds.
We are, in haste, gentlemen,
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 massacre, worked their way toward the Kittaning war-path, leaving behind them some few stragglers of their party whose appetite 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.