The expedition of [Col. David] Williamson to the Muskingum [the
massacre of the Moravian Indians at Gnadenhutten, March 8 & 9, 1782] did not allay the excitement upon the
frontier; it was now prevailing all along the border. On the 24th of March, a party of borderers
attacked a few friendly Delawares who were living on a small island at the
mouth of the Allegheny—known as Smoky or Killbuck's island, since gone—just
opposite Fort Pitt. Several of the
Indians were killed, including two who held commissions in the service of the
government; the remainder effected their escape into the fort, except two who
ran into the woods and succeeded in eluding their pursuers. Even the life of Colonel [John] Gibson was in jeopardy, who, it was
conceived, was a friend to the Indians—so great was the agitation throughout
the western country. And it is not to be wondered at— savages were making their
way into the settlements; the settlers were threatened, on all sides, with
massacres, plunderings, burnings, and captivities. There was alarm and dismay
in every quarter.
The people of the border were forced
into forts which dotted the country in every direction. These were in the
highest degree uncomfortable. They
consisted of cabins, block-houses, and stockades. In some places, where the
exposure was not great, a single blockhouse, with a cabin outside, constituted
the whole fort. For a space around, the
forest was usually cleared away, so that an enemy could neither find a lurking
place nor conceal his approach.
Near these forts the borderers worked
their fields in parties guarded by sentinels. Their necessary labors,
therefore, were performed with every danger and difficulty imaginable. Their work had to be carried on with their
arms and all things belonging to their war-dress deposited in some central
place in the field. Sentinels were
stationed on the outside of the fence; so that, on the least alarm, the whole
company repaired to their arms, and were ready for the combat in a moment.
It is not surprising that there was a
deep and widespread feeling of revenge against the hostile and marauding
savages. The horrid scenes of slaughter
which frequently met the view were well calculated to arouse such passions. Helpless infancy, virgin beauty, and hoary
age, dishonored by the ghastly wounds of the tomahawk and scalping-knife, were
common sights. When the slain were the
friends or relatives of the beholder—wife, sister, child, father, mother,
brother— it is not at all a wonder that pale and quivering lips should mutter
revenge.
From Pittsburg south, including the
valleys of the Monongahela and Youghiogheny, and the territory west of these to
the Ohio, was a scope of country having, at this time, a considerable
population; nevertheless, there were few families who had lived therein any
considerable length of time that had not lost some of their number by the
merciless Indians. 1
Christ, not man, is King!
Dale
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