"As soon as the Colonel arrived they surrounded him, stripped him naked, and compelled him to sit on the ground, near a large fire, around which were about thirty warriors and more than double that number of squaws and boys. They then fell upon him and beat him severely with sticks and their fists. In a few minutes a large stake was fixed in the ground, and piles of hickory poles, of about twelve feet in length, were spread around it; Colonel Crawford's hands were then tied behind his back; a strong rope was produced, one end of which was fastened to the ligature, between his wrists, and the other tied to the bottom of the stake. The rope was long enough to permit him to walk around the stake several times and then return. Fire was then applied to the hickory poles, which lay in piles, at the distance of six or seven yards from the stake." (1)

"The Colonel observing these terrible preparations, called to the noted Simon Girty, who sat on horseback at the distance of a few yards from the fire, and asked if the Indians were going to burn him. Girty very coolly replied in the affirmative. The Colonel heard the intelligence with firmness, merely observing that he would bear it with fortitude. When the hickory poles had been burnt assunder in the middle, Captain Pipe arose and addressed the crowd in a tone of great energy and animated gestures, pointing frequently to the Colonel, who regarded him with an appearance of unruffled composure. As soon as he had finished, a loud whoop burst from the assembled throng, and they all at once rushed upon the unfortunate Crawford. For several seconds the crowd was so great around him, that Knight could not see what they were doing; but in a short time they had sufficiently dispersed to give him a view of the Colonel. His ears had been cut off and the blood was streaming down each side of his face. A terrible scene of torture now commenced. The warriors shot charges of powder into his naked body, commencing with the calves of his legs, and continuing to his neck. The boys snatched the burning hickory poles and applied them to his flesh. As fast as he ran around the stake to avoid one party of tormentors, he was promptly met at every turn by others with burning poles, red hot irons, and rifles loaded with powder only; so that in a few minutes nearly one hundred charges of powder had been shot into his body, which had became black and blistered in a dreadful manner. The squaws would take up a quantity of coals and hot ashes, and throw

(1) M'Clung's Description in the History of the Backwoods, p. 226.

them upon his body, so that in a few minutes, he had nothing but fire to walk upon." (1)

"In this extremity of his agony, the unhappy Colonel called aloud upon Girty, in tones that rang through Knight's brain with maddening effect: "Girty! Girty!! shoot me through the heart!! Quick! Quick!! Do not refuse me!!" "Don't you see I have no gun, Colonel!" replied the monster, bursting into a loud laugh, and then turning to an Indian beside him, he uttered some brutal jests upon the naked and miserable appearance of the prisoner."

"The terrible scene had now lasted more than two hours, and Crawford had become much exhausted. He walked slowly around the stake, spoke in a low tone, and earnestly besought God to look with compassion upon him, and pardon his sins. His nerves had lost much of their sensibility, and he no longer shrunk from the fire-brands, with which they incessantly touched him. At length he sunk in a fainting fit upon his face, and lay motionless. Instantly an Indian sprung upon his back, knelt lightly upon one knee, made a circular incision with his knife upon the crown of his head, and clapping the knife between his teeth, tore the scalp off with both hands. Scarcely had this been done, when a withered hag approached with a board full of burning embers, and poured them upon the crown of his head, now laid bare to the bone.The Colonel groaned deeply, arose and again walked slowly around the stake! But why continue a description so horrible? Nature, at length could endure no more, and at a late hour in the night, he was released by death, from the hands of his tormentors." (2)

Dr. Knight was doomed to be burned at a Shawanese town, about forty miles distant from Sandusky, and committed to the care of a young Indian, to be taken there. The first day they travelled about twenty-five miles, and encamped for the night. In the morning, the gnats being very troublesome, the Doctor requested the Indian to untie him, that he might help him to make a fire to keep them off. With this request the Indian complied. While the Indian was on his knees and elbows, blowing the fire, the Doctor caught up the end of a stick which had been burned in two, about eighteen inches long, with which he struck the Indian on his head with all his might, so as to knock him forward into the fire. Rising up instantly, he ran off with great rapidity, howling most dismally. Knight seized the Indian's rifle and pursued him, but drawing back the lock too violently, he broke the main spring, and relin

(1) M'Clung's description, History of the Backwoods, p. 266, 267. (2) M'Clung's description in the History of the Backwoods, p. 268.

quished the pursuit. Dr. Knight then made the best of his way home, and reached Fort M'Intosh on the twenty-second day, nearly famished. During his journey he subsisted on roots, a few young birds and berries.

John Slover, who had been a prisoner among the Indians, and was one of the pilots of the army, was also with two others taken prisoner, and sent to one of the Shawanese towns on the Scioto. One of his fellow prisoners was murdered on the way; being first painted black, and then obliged to run the gauntlet, when they cut him with tomahawks, shot his body black with loads of powder blowed into him, and burnt holes into it with hot irons. His surviving companion was sent to another town to be burned, soon after they arrived at the council house. After keeping Slover a few days, for the purpose of examining him concerning the condition and number of the American troops, which they could do in their own language, as he understood the Miami, Shawanese and Delaware languages, a council of the chiefs was called, and Slover was condemned to be burned.

A rope was then put around his neck-his arms were fastened behind him he was stripped naked, and blackened in the usual manner. He was tied to the fatal post, and the flames were now kindled. Just as the savages were about commencing the torture, there suddenly came on a heavy thunder storm. The wind blew a hurricane,—the rain fell violently, and the fire already kindled, was instantly extinguished. The savages stood amazed, and were a long time silent. At last one said, "We will let him alone until morning, and take a whole day in burning him." Slover was then loosed from the stake, and made to sit down, when they danced around him until eleven o'clock at night, beating him, and wounding him, with tomahawks and clubs. When they ceased, he was taken to an empty house, where a rope was fastened around his neck, and tied to a beam of the house. His arms were also pinioned behind him with a cord. In this situation he was suffered to lie down on a board, guarded by three warriors. They frequently asked him how he liked eating fire to-morrow. They continued talking and smoking until after midnight, when they laid down and went to sleep. Slover then resolved to make an effort to get loose if possible, and soon extracted his arms from the cord which bound them. One of the warriors then got up and stirred the fire. He then was apprehensive that he was lost, and lay still for fear of being examined. The Indian soon laid himself down again, and his hopes revived. He then attempted to unloose the rope around his neck, and tried to bite it with his teeth, but in vain, as it was large and very hard, being made of the hide of a buf

falo. He began to despair, and resigned himself to his fate. At this time, the day began to break. He at length resolved to make another and last effort, and by pulling the rope, by putting his fingers between it and his neck, to his surprise it easily untied, and he slipped it over his head. He then stepped over the warriors as they lay, looked back to see if he had disturbed them, and sprang over the fence into a cornfield. He had not gone far, before he came across a squaw with four children, sleeping under a tree. He then changed his course for part of the commons of the town, on which was a number of horses feeding, and having caught. one, and taking the cord from his arm, with which he had been tied, he used it for a halter, and a piece of an old quilt which he had found near, for a saddle, he mounted and rode off at full speed. It was now daylight; but the horse being strong and swift, and the country open and level, he crossed the Scioto about fifty miles distant by ten o'clock.Having travelled about twenty miles further, his horse gave out, when he instantly left him, and run on foot about twenty miles further, making in the whole distance, about ninety miles. Being perfectly acquainted with the route, he reached Wheeling on the third day, nearly famished with hunger, and exhausted with fatigue. (1)

Thus ended this disastrous campaign. It was the last one which took place in this section of the country during the war of the revolu tion. It was undertaken with the very worst views-those of murder and plunder. It was conducted without sufficient means to encounter, with any prospect of success, the large Indian forces, upon the plains of Sandusky. There was not that subordination and discipline which is always necessary to success; and it ended in total discomfiture, and an awful sacrifice of life. Never did any enterprise more signally fail, and never was a deed of blood more terribly revenged, than the murder of the Christian Indians at the Moravian towns.

"The enlightened historian must view the whole Indian war, from the murder of Cornstalk, Ellinipsico and Red Hawk, at the commencement of the war, to the inhuman burning of Colonel Crawford, in no other light than a succession of the most wonton murders of all ages, from helpless infancy to decrepid old age, and of both sexes: without object and without effect. It was a war of mutual but unavailing slaughter, devastation and revenge, over whose record humanity still drops a tear of regret, but that tear cannot efface its disgraceful history."(2)

(1) Incidents of Border Life, p. 145–46–47.

(2) Dodridge's Notes, p. 280-281.

CHAPTER XII.

CAPTURE OF KASKASKIA, AND OTHER BRITISH POSTS ON THE MISSISSIPPI IN 1778, BY COLONEL GEORGE Rogers CLARKE-HIS SURPRISE OF VINCENNES, AND ITS SURRENDER BY GOVERNOR HAMILTON TO THE AMERICAN COMMANDER-THE FOUNDING OF LOUISVILLE-THE DARING EXPLOITS OF SIMON KENTON, HIS CAPTIVITY, SUFFERINGS, AND ESCAPE-COLONEL DANIEL BOONE'S EXPEDITION TO AN INDIAN TOWN ON PAINT CREEK-HIS DEFENCE OF BOONESBORO' AGAINST 500 INDIANS UNDER DU QUESNE, A BRITISH OFFICER.

One of the most extraordinary expeditions during the war of the revolution, was that of Colonel GEORGE ROGERS CLARKE, in 1778, against Kaskaskia and Vincennes, then in possession of the British. These places supplied the Indians with munitions of war, and enabled them to harrass the frontier settlements of Virginia, now the State of Kentucky. (1)— The capture of these posts was deemed so important, that the Legislature of Virginia voted to raise a regiment of State troops for the purpose. The command was given to Colonel Clarke, who planned the expedition, and who possessed great courage, uncommon energy of character and capacity for Indian warfare. He was a man of extraordinary talents, and possesed a military genius which enabled him to plan with consummate wisdom, and to execute his designs with decision and promptitude. Having visited the western settlements the preceding year, he was satisfied, that in order to curb the Indians effectually, it was necessary to strike at the powerful, though distant allies, by whom they were encouraged and supported. His great mind readily comprehended the situation of the country; he made himself acquainted with the topography of the whole region, as far as it was then known; with the localities of the enemy's posts, and the strength of their forces. His representations induced the Legislature of Virginia to enter with vigor into his plan, and such was the confidence he inspired into the public mind, that a regiment consisting of nearly three hundred men, were raised without delay, and placed under his command. (2) He was duly authorized to act against the British posts on the Mississippi and the Wabash; yet the object of the expedition was kept a profound secret. (3)

With this force, he left Virginia, crossed the mountains to the Monongahela, embarked in boats, and descended to the falls of the Ohio, where he was joined by some volunteers from Kentucky, then western Virginia. At this place he left thirteen families, who had descended the Ohio

(1) Kentucky was separated from Virginia in 1786, after which it was a territorial government, until 1792, when it was admitted into the Union. (2) Hall's Sketches of the West, Vol. II. p. 118.