It however sometimes happened, after the apparent onset of winter, the weather became warm; the smoky time commenced, and lasted for a considerable number of days. This was the Indian summer, because it afforded the Indians another opportunity of visiting the settlements with their destructive warfare. The melting of the snow saddened every countenance, and the genial warmth of the sun chilled every heart with horror. The apprehension of another visit from the Indians, and of being driven back to the detested fort, was painful in the highest degree, and the distressing apprehension was frequently realized.

Toward the latter part of February we commonly had a fine spell of open warm weather, during which the snow melted away. This was denominated the "pawwawing days," from the supposition that the Indians were then holding their war councils, for planning off their spring campaigns into the settlements. Sad experience taught us that in this conjecture we were not often mistaken.

Sometimes it happened that the Indians ventured to make their excursions too late in the fall or too early in the spring for their own convenience.

A man of the name of John Carpenter was taken early in the month of March, in the neighborhood of what is now Wellsburg. There had been several warm days, but on the night preceding his capture there was a heavy fall of snow. His two horses, which they took with him, nearly perished in swimming the Ohio. The Indians as well as himself suffered severely with the cold before they reached the Moravian towns on the Muskingum. In the morning after the first day's journey beyond the Moravian towns, the Indians sent out Carpenter to bring in the horses, which had been turned out in the evening, after being hobbled. The horses had made a circuit, and fallen into the trail by which they came, and were making their way homewards.

When Carpenter overtook them, and had taken off their fetters, he had, as he said, to make a most awful decision. He had a chance and barely a chance to make his escape, with a certainty of death should he attempt it without success; while on the other hand, the horrible prospect of being tortured to death by fire presented itself. As he was the first prisoner taken that spring, of course the general custom of the Indians, of burning the first prisoner every spring, doomed him to the flames.

After spending a few minutes in making his decision, he resolved on attempting an escape, and effected it by way of forts Laurens, M'Intosh and Pittsburg. If I recollect rightly, he brought both his horses home with him. This happened in the year 1782. The capture of Mr. Carpenter, and the murder of two families about the same time, that is to say, in the two or three first days of March, contributed materially to the Moravian campaign, and the murder of that unfortunate people.

CHAPTER VIII.

THIS, in one point of view at least, is to be considered as a second Mo ravian campaign, as one of its objects was that of finishing the work of murder and plunder with the christian Indians at their new establishment on the Sandusky. The next object was that of destroying the Wyandot towns on the same river. It was the resolution of all those concerned in this expedition, not to spare the life of any Indians that might fall into their hands, whether friends or foes. It will be seen in the sequel that the result of this campaign was widely different from that of the Mora. vian campaign the preceding March.

It should seem that the long continuance of the Indian war had debased a considerable portion of our population to the savage state of our nature. Having lost so many relatives by the Indians, and witnessed their horrid murders and other depredations on so extensive a scale, they became subjects of that indiscriminate thirst for revenge, which is such a prominent feature in the savage character; and having had a taste of blood and plunder, without risk or loss on their part, they resolved to go on and kill every Indian they could find, whether friend or foe.

Preparations for this campaign commenced soon after the close of the Moravian campaign, in the month of March; and as it was intended to make what was called at that time "a dash," that is, an enterprise conducted with secrecy and despatch, the men were all mounted on the best horses they could procure. They furnished themselves with all their outfits, except some ammunition, which was furnished by the lieutenant colonel of Washington county.

On the 25th of May 1782, four hundred and eighty men mustered at the old Mingo towns, on the western side of the Ohio river. They were all volunteers from the immediate neighborhood of the Ohio, with the exception of one company from Ten Mile, in Washington county. Here an election was held for the office of commander-in-chief for the expedition. The candidates were Col. Williamson and Col. Crawford. The latter was the successful candidate. When notified of his appointment, it is said that he accepted it with apparent reluctance.

The army marched along "Williamson's trail," as it was then called, until they arrived at the upper Moravian town, in the fields belonging to which there was still plenty of corn on the stalks, with which their horses were plentifully fed during the night of their encampment there.

Shortly after the army halted at this place, two Indians were discov ered by three men, who had walked some distance out of the camp. Thres shots were fired at one of them, but without hurting him. As soon as the news of the discovery of Indians had reached the camp, more

than one half of the men rushed out, without command, and in the most tumultuous manner, to see what happened. From that time, Col. Crawford felt a presentiment of the defeat which followed.

The truth is, that notwithstanding the secrecy and dispatch of the enterprise, the Indians were beforehand with our people. They saw the rendezvous on the Mingo bottom, and knew their number and destination. They visited every encampment immediately on their leaving it, and saw from their writing on the trees and scraps of paper, that "no quarter was to be given to any Indian, whether man, woman, or child."

Nothing material happened during their march until the 6th of June, when their guides conducted them to the site of the Moravian villages, on one of the upper branches of the Sandusky river; but here, instead of meeting with Indians and plunder, they met with nothing but vestiges of desolation. The place was covered with high grass; and the remains of a few huts alone announced that the place had been the residence of the people whom they intended to destroy, but who had moved off to Scioto some time before.

In this dilemma, what was to be done? The officers held a council, in which it was determined to march one day longer in the direction of Upper Sandusky, and if they should not reach the town in the course of the day, to make a retreat with all speed.

The march was commenced on the next morning through the plains of Sandusky, and continued until about two o'clock, when the advance guard was attacked and driven in by the Indians, who were discovered in large numbers in the high grass with which the place was covered. The Indian army was at that moment about entering a piece of woods, almost entirely surrounded by plains; but in this they were disappointed by a rapid movement of our men. The battle then commenced by a heavy fire from both sides. From a partial possession of the woods which they had gained at the onset of the battle, the Indians were soon dislodged. They then attempted to gain a small skirt of wood on our right flank, but were prevented from doing so by the vigilance and bravery of Maj. Leet, who commanded the right wing of the army at that time. The firing was incessant and heavy until dark, when it ceased. Both armies lay on their arms during the night. Both adopted the policy of kindling large fires along the line of battle, and then retiring some distance in the rear of them, to prevent being surprised by a night attack. During the conflict of the afternoon three of our men were killed and several wounded.

In the morning our army occupied the battle ground of the preceding day. The Indians made no attack during the day, until late in the evening, but were seen in large bodies traversing the plains in various direcfions. Some of them appeared to be employed in carrying off their dead and wounded.

In the morning of this day a council of the officers was held, in which á retreat was resolved on, as the only means of saving their army, the Indians appearing to increase in numbers every hour. During the sitting of this council, Col. Williamson proposed taking one hundred and fifty vol anteers, and marching directly to Upper Sandusky. This proposition

the commander-in-chief prudently rejected, saying, "I have no doubt but that you would reach the town, but you would find nothing there but empty wigwams; and having taken off so many of our best men, you would leave the rest to be destroyed by the host of Indians with which we are now surrounded, and on your return they would attack and destroy you. They care nothing about defending their towns-they are worth nothing. Their squaws, children and property, have been removed from them long since. Our lives and baggage are what they want, and if they can get us divided they will soon have them. We must stay together and do the best we can."

During this day preparations were made for a retreat by burying the dead and burning fires over their graves to prevent discovery, and preparing means for carrying off the wounded. The retreat was to commence in the course of the night. The Indians, however, became apprised of the intended retreat, and about sundown attacked the army with great force and fury, in every direction excepting that of Sandusky.

When the line of march was formed by the commander-in-chief, and the retreat commenced, our guides prudently took the direction of Sandusky, which afforded the only opening in the Indian lines and the only chance of concealment. After marching about a mile in this direction, the army wheeled about to the left, and by a circuitous route gained the trail by which they came, before day. They continued their march the whole of the next day, with a trifling annoyance from the Indians, who fired a few distant shots at the rear guard, which slightly wounded two or three men. At night they built fires, took their suppers, secured the horses and resigned themselves to repose, without placing a single sentinel or vidette for safety. In this careless situation, they might have been surprised and cut off by the Indians, who, however, gave them no distur bance during the night, nor afterwards during the whole of their retreat. The number of those composing the main body in the retreat was supposed to be about three hundred.

Most unfortunately, when a retreat was resolved on, a difference of opinion prevailed concerning the best mode of effecting it. The greater number thought it best to keep in a body and retreat as fast as possible, while a considerable number thought it safest to break off in small parties, and make their way home in different directions, avoiding the route by which they came. Accordingly many attempted to do so, calculating that the whole body of the Indians would follow the main army. In this they were entirely mistaken. The Indians paid but little attention to the main body of the army, but pursued the small parties with such activity, that but very few of those who composed them made their escape.

The only successful party who were detached from the main army, was that of about forty men under the command of a Capt. Williamson, who, pretty late in the night of the retreat, broke through the Indian lines under a severe fire and with some loss, and overtook the main army on the morning of the second day of the retreat.

For several days after the retreat of our army, the Indians were spread over the whole country, from Sandusky to the Muskingum, in pursuit of the straggling parties, most of whom were killed on the spot. They even

pursued them almost to the banks of the Ohio.

A man of the name of

Mills was killed, two miles to the eastward of the site of St. Clairsville, in the direction of Wheeling from that place. The number killed in this way must have been very great: the precise amount, however, was never fairly ascertained.

At the commencement of the retreat, Col. Crawford placed himself at the head of the army, and continued there until they had gone about a quarter of a mile, when missing his son John Crawford, his son-in-law Maj. Harrison, and his nephews Maj. Rose and William Crawford, he halted and called for them as the line passed, but without finding them. After the army had passed him, he was unable to overtake it, owing to the weariness of his horse. Falling in company with Dr. Knight and two others, they traveled all the night, first north, and then to the east, to avoid the pursuit of the Indians. They directed their coures during the night by the north star.

On the next day they fell in with Capt. John Biggs and Lieut. Ashley, the latter of whom was severely wounded. There were two others in .company with Biggs and Ashley. They encamped together the succeeding night. On the next day, while on their march, they were attacked by a party of Indians, who made Col. Crawford and Dr. Knight prisonThe other four made their escape; but Capt. Biggs and Lieutenant Ashley were killed the next day.

ers.

Col. Crawford and Dr. Knight were immediately taken to an Indian encampment, at a short distance from the place where they were captured. Here they found nine fellow prisoners and seventeen Indians. On the next day they were marched to the old Wyandot town, and on the next morning were paraded, to set off, as they were told, to go to the new town. But alas! a very different destination awaited these captives! Nine of the prisoners were marched off some distance before the colonel and the doctor, who were conducted by Pipe and Wingemond, two Delaware chiefs. Four of the prisoners were tomahawked and scalped on the way, at different places.

Preparations had been made for the execution of Col. Crawford, by setting a post about fifteen feet high in the ground, and making a large fire of hickory poles about six yards from it. About half a mile from the place of execution, the remaining five of the nine prisoners were tomahawked and scalped by a number of squaws and boys.

When arrived at the fire, the colonel was stripped and ordered to sit down. He was then severely beaten with sticks, and afterwards tied to the post, by a rope of such length as to allow him to walk two or three times round it, and then back again. This done, they began the torture by discharging a great number of loads of powder upon him, from head to foot; after which they began to apply the burning ends of the hickory poles, the squaws in the mean time throwing coals and hot ashes on his body, so that in a little time he had nothing but coals to walk on. In the midst of his sufferings, he begged of the noted Simon Girty to take pity on him and shoot him. Girty tauntingly answered, "You see I have no gun, I cannot shoot;" and laughed heartily at the scene. After suffering about three hours he became faint and fell down on his face.

An Indian