SV^AI! > 
 %^-^'if ^^ 
 
 %Hnv>:K^ %u 
 
 ^133NV-l 
 
 K% ^E-UNIYERJ/A ^lOS-ANCEl^ 
 ?V&: ^^ ..^1^2 ^X^S k 1 
 
 &*Jl 1$ 
 
 ^AHvaaiH^- 
 
 IOS-ANCEI/ 
 
 
 IDS-ANCElty. 
 
 S I 
 
 ^ 
 
 I i 
 
 
 I s 
 
 [-UBRARY0/ 

 
 Captivity of 
 
 RICHARD BARD, ESQ., 
 
 And His Wife, 
 
 CATHARINE POE BARD, 
 
 Collected from His Papers By His Son, 
 
 HON. ARCHIBALD BARD, 
 
 Together with an Interpolation by Joseph Pritts. 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 G. (X SEILHAMER, ESQ. 
 
 Chambersburg 
 
 Conococheague Genealogical Society. 
 J904.
 
 Captivity of 
 
 RICHARD BARD, ESQ., 
 
 And His Wife, 
 
 CATHARINE POE BARD, 
 
 Collected from His Papers By His Son, 
 
 HON. ARCHIBALD BARD, 
 
 Together with an Interpolation by Joseph Pritts. 
 INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 G. (X SEILHAMER, ESQ. 
 
 Chambersburg 
 
 Conococheague Genealogical Society, 
 J904.
 
 FOREWORDS. 
 
 The following narrative of the captivity of Richard Bard 
 and his wife by the Indians in 1758, and of their experi- 
 ences and sufferings in consequence, is reprinted in part 
 from "London's Narratives," to which it was contributed 
 by Judge Archibald Bard, a son of the captives, and in part 
 from "Border Life," published by Joseph Pritts. Like 
 
 many editors Mr. Pritts took liberties with the original 
 PI 
 
 version, substituting a prose account of Richard Bard's es- 
 cape and return journey, written by himself, for the verses 
 .. 
 
 " that were a part of the first publication. It will be ob- 
 served that the Pritts interpolation is written as if it was a 
 part of Judge Bard's narrative. In order to print both 
 versions together I have divided the reprint into three 
 parts, placing the Pritts interpolation between the begin- 
 ning and the conclusion of Judge Bard's narrative. 
 
 G. O. S. 
 Chambersburg, Pa., 1904. 
 
 447059
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 The following account of Hugh Mercer's experience in 
 the expedition of General Braddock against the French 
 and Indians in 1755. is from Blake's Biographical Diction- 
 ary, 1838: 
 
 "He served with Washington in the war against the French and Indians 
 which terminated in 1763, and was by him greatly esteemed. He was with 
 Braddock in the campaign of 1755. At the action of Fort Duquesne he was 
 wounded, and faint from the loss of blood, he lay under a fallen tree. One 
 of the pursuing Indians jumped upon the very tree, but did not discover 
 him. Mercer found a brook at which he refreshed himself. In his hunger 
 he fed on a rattlesnake, which he had killed. After pursuing his solitary 
 way through the wilderness of one hundred miles he arrived at Fort 
 Cumberland." 
 
 Fourteen years before the appearance of this story 
 Thomas J. Rogers in his "New American Biographical 
 Dictionary," published at Fasten, Pa., made similar mis- 
 statements with an amplitude that showed the sources of 
 his information. He made Mercer a sharer in Braddock's 
 expedition and "the early companion in arms of the illus- 
 trious Washington," but he did not venture to make Fort 
 Duquesne the scene of the action in which his hero was 
 wounded and Fort Cumberland the goal at which the 
 wandering and famished soldier- arrived. Instead, he 
 named Kittanning, where Mercer actually was wounded 
 while serving with Col. Armstrong's expedition in 1756, 
 as the place. "In this battle," Rogers says, "which termi- 
 nated in the defeat of the Indians and the destruction of 
 their town. General Mercer was severely wounded in the 
 right arm, which was broken. Upon that occasion he nar- 
 rowly escaped being taken prisoner, and being separated 
 from his party, wandered a fortnight in the wildnerness, 
 slaking his thirst in the brook of the forest, and subsisting 
 on the body of a rattlesnake which he had killed until he 
 reached the settled country. Being a physician, he applied 
 temporary relief to his wound. While wandering in the
 
 woods, much exhausted from the loss of blood, and the 
 want of proper food and nourishment, and surrounded by 
 hostile savages he took refuge in a hollow tree which lay 
 on the ground. In that situation he was, when many of 
 the savages came up, and seated themselves upon the tree. 
 They remained there some time, and departed without dis- 
 covering that a wounded soldier and foe was near them. 
 General Mercer then endeavored to return by the route in 
 which the army had advanced, and, incredible as it may 
 appear, he reached Fort Cumberland, through a trackless 
 wild, of more than one hundred miles, with no other nutri- 
 ment than that already mentioned." 
 
 From this story it will be seen that the Rev. J. G. Blake 
 obtained his information from Rogers, while Rogers drew 
 his inspiration from a versified account of the escape of 
 Richard Bard from captivity in 1758, published in Lou- 
 don's "Narratives," that antedated "Border Life." The 
 most cursor}- inquiry into the sources from which Rogers 
 obtained his alleged facts would have shown that the story 
 was drawn from Bard's homely verses, written as long ago 
 as 1760. From 1824, when Rogers' work appeared, not 
 only Blake but nearly every writer that has attempted a 
 biography of Mercer, however brief, has repeated the 
 same false tale. Even Washington Irving in his "Life of 
 Washington" accepts the story from, Blake, making it a 
 part of a vivid description of Braddock's defeat, but omit- 
 ting the rattlesnake, as follows : 
 
 "Among the wounded survivors of the defeat, who 
 found their way to Fort Cumberland, was Washington's 
 friend and neighbor, Dr. Hugh Mercer. He had received 
 a severe wound in his shoulder, and being unable to keep 
 up with the fugitives, concealed himself behind a fallen 
 tree. Thence he was a sad witness of a demoniac scene, 
 which followed the defeat. The field was strewn with the 
 dead and dying, and among them several gallant officers. 
 White men and red men vied with other in stripping and 
 plundering them ; those who were still alive were dispatch- 
 ed by the merciless tomahawk, and all were scalped. 
 When the plunder and massacre were finished, the victors 
 set out for the fort, laden with booty, the savages bearing 
 aloft the scalps as trophies, and making the forest ring
 
 with their yells of triumph. Mercer then set out on a 
 lonely struggle through the wilderness, guiding himself by 
 stars and the course of the streams, and arrived at Fort 
 Cumberland, almost exhausted by sickness, famine and 
 fatigue." 
 
 This same story is repeated by Charles J. Peterson in a 
 biography of Mercer, published in 1852, and it is perpetu- 
 ated in Appleton's "Cyclopedia of American Biography," 
 Peters.on making him a captain under Washington in 
 Braddock's Expedition, and the compiler for Appleton's 
 going to the absurd length of saying that "he received a 
 medal from the corporation of Philadelphia for his cour- 
 age in this expedition." 
 
 It is surprising that these fictions should have been re- 
 peated from their inception in 1824 to the present time 
 with almost unanimous approval, while no writer ever at- 
 tempted to ascertain the truth in regard to Mercer's ser- 
 vices in the French and Indian War. After fleeing to 
 America upon the ending of the disastrous efforts of 
 Charles Edward in Scotland, Dr. Mercer settled in the 
 Conococheague Valley, where he practiced his profession 
 until the savage onslaughts that followed Braddock's un- 
 fortunate expedition. That he was with that expedition 
 there is no reason to believe. His name is not mentioned 
 in any contemporary account of Braddock's march and de- 
 feat. Tf he had met with the romantic experiences at- 
 tributed to him in so many later publications it is not like- 
 Iv that they would have escaped the contemporary chron- 
 iclers. That he was not in command of one of the Vir- 
 ginia companies is certain, and that he knew Washington 
 personally at that time is unlikely. That Dr. Mercer was 
 active in promoting measures for the protection of the 
 Conococheague frontier in the autumn of 1755 and the 
 winter of 1755-56 may be assumed, but we have no knowl- 
 edge of his movements until March 6, 1856, when he was 
 commissioned a captain in the service of the province of 
 Pennsylvania. From that time until his removal to Fred- 
 ericksburg, Va., after the close of the French and Indian 
 War, in 1765, the sources of information concerning him 
 are ample and trustworthy. 
 
 It is probable that Dr. Mercer's military service began
 
 under George Croghan at Aughwick, where Croghan built 
 a stockade in October and November, 1755. On the I2th 
 of November Croghan reported that he had forty men at 
 his stockade at Aughwick. On the i8th of December 
 Croghan was commissioned a captain in the Provincial 
 service, and a few days later he was supplied by the pro- 
 vince with arms, ammunition and blankets, including two 
 "blunder bushes/' swivel guns. In March, 1756, he turn- 
 ed these arms and material over to his successor, Captain 
 Mercer, and a stronger fort having been erected at Augh- 
 wick by direction of Governor Morris, to which Morris 
 "ave the name of Fort Shirley, Mercer had command of 
 it until the march of Colonel Armstrong's expedition 
 against Kittanning in August, 1756. 
 
 After the capture of McCord's fort in the Cumberland 
 Valley and the defeat of Captain Culbertson at Sideling 
 Hill early in April, 1756, Captain Hans Hamilton, who 
 \vas in command of Fort Lyttleton, sent an express to Fort 
 Shirley, asking Dr. Mercer to come to the succor of the 
 wounded, but fearing that Mercer could not leave his fort 
 in the conditions that then existed Hamilton also sent to 
 Carlisle for Dr. Prentice. It is probable that Captain Mer- 
 cer obeyed the summons, as on the i8th of April he was 
 at Carlisle, trying to fill up his company to sixty men. A 
 letter that he wrote to Governor Morris from Carlisle, 
 - A pri1 18. 1756. is an interesting bit of autobiography. It 
 was as follows: 
 
 Honoured Sir: 
 
 The commissary general of the musters with your Honour's instruc- 
 tions to review and pay off the garrison at Fort Shirley, arrived in a very 
 lucky time, when the greater part of our men were about to abandon the 
 fort for want of pay. It was with great difficulty I could prevent their 
 doing- o, for three weeks before, that is ever since the time of enlistment 
 had been expired. I am sorry to observe that numbers of our best men 
 declined the service and reduced me to the necessity of recruiting anew 
 through diffidence with regard to their pay, and I have been obliged to 
 c.ngage that even such as left us when paid off, should have the same al- 
 1'owance as formerly for their overplus time, depending upon my being re- 
 imbursed, as without such engagement, it was impossible to prevent the 
 fort from falling into the enemy's hands. I am now about filling up my 
 .( ompany to sixty men. agreeable to your orders, and have drawn upon 
 '(Cie commissaries for thirty pounds for this purpose. A garrison of thirty 
 rren are now at Fort Shirley, engaged to remain there until the first of 
 May, by which time I am in hopes of continuing the company and shall 
 iirmediately thereupon repair thither. It is to be feared that our com- 
 irvnication with the settlement will soon be cut off unless a greater force
 
 is ordered for the garrison. As your Honour is sensible that I can send 
 no detachment to escort provisions equal in force to parties of the enemy 
 who have lately made attempts upon our frontiers, and considering how 
 short of provisions we have hitherto been kept, the loss of one party upon 
 Vhis duty rr.ust reduce us to the last necessity. 
 
 Mr. Hugh Crawford is upon the return of Lieutenant and Mr. Thos. 
 Srrallrran, who acted before as commissary in the fort as ensign to my 
 'ccrrpany. It will be a particular obligation laid upon me to have an ex- 
 Obange of Mr. James Hays for Lieutenant and Mr. Smallman continued. 
 And perhaps Mr. Crawford would be satisfied to fill Mr. Hays' place with 
 Capt. Patterson, as members of that company are of his acquaintance. I 
 have given Mr. Croghan a receipt for what arms and other necessary 
 articles, belonging to him are at Fort Shirley, a copy of which, together 
 iwith my journal and general return shall be sent by Captain Salter, and 
 find it impossible to arm my men or complete what yet remains of our 
 outworks without them. The guns are preferable to those belonging to 
 she government and I hope will be purchased for our use. The arms be- 
 i'ng unfit for use, and cartridge boxes, powder and lead being wanted, I 
 will direct a general order to the commissary at once for all these things. 
 It is my desire that the men should be paid once every month, and I have 
 so written the department, and unless we can do this we can expect little 
 satisfaction in serving the public. 
 
 The trust your Honour has been pleased to repose in me, in giving 
 me the command of Fort Shirley, calls for my warm acknowledgements 
 and cannot fail of engaging my utmost attention and zeal in the execu- 
 tion of your orders. 
 
 It is unnecessary to deal with the capture of Kittanning 
 in this place further than to say that Captain Mercer par- 
 ticipated in the action and was wounded ; that he was re- 
 ported as carried off by his ensign and eleven men, who 
 left the main body in their return to take another road: 
 and that upon the return of the expedition to Fort Lyttle- 
 ton he had not yet arrived. As another example of the 
 manner in which the story of his return has been distorted 
 1 quote the following statement from the "Frontier Forts 
 of Pennsylvania:" 
 
 "At or about the same time, there was a Company of Cherokee Indians 
 in King's pay, being at Fort Lyttleton, and Captain Hamilton sent some 
 of them to search along the ?oot of the Allegheny mountains to see if 
 there were any signs of Indians on that route, and these Indians came 
 upon Captain Mercer, unable to rise; they pave him food, and be tn!d th OTr > 
 of the other; they took the captrin's track and found him and brought 
 him to Fort Lyttleton, carrying him on a bier of their own making. They 
 took fourteen scalps on this expedition." 
 
 This is also drawn from Richard Bard's ballad. The 
 Cherokees did not come to Pennsylvania until the summer 
 of 1757. Bard met three of these Indians near Fort 
 Lyttleton in 1758. 
 
 Captain Mercer served west of the Susquehanna. 1756-
 
 10 
 
 57, and at Fort Augusta, 1757-58. He was promoted to 
 he major, December 4, 1757. He became colonel-com- 
 mandant of the 3rd. battalion of the Pennsylvania regi- 
 ment. May 29, 1758, and colonel of the second battalion, 
 April 13, 1760. He served in both the Forbes and the 
 Bouquet expeditions. General Mercer is worthy of a bet- 
 ter biographer than he has yet found. 
 
 That Mr. Bard's ballad contained suggestions for all the 
 perils that Mercer is said to have experienced a brief 
 analysis will show. In one stanza he says : 
 
 " In hollow logs amongst the leaves, 
 At niglit is mine abode." 
 
 This furnished the inspiration for the original inventor 
 of the manner of Mercer's escape at Braddock's defeat, 
 and possibly for Pritts' interpolation in "Border Life," but 
 there is a tradition that Bard hid from the pursuing In- 
 dians, immediately after his escape, in a hollow log, and 
 the place was shown to me at Homer City, in Indiana 
 county, where the tradition is cherished as a fact. 
 
 The rattlesnake story will be found in full in the ballad, 
 and also the sug-gestion of the statement that Mercer, be- 
 ing- a physician, treated his own wound. And here is the 
 basis for the Cherokee story: 
 
 But on the evening of this day 
 
 I met with Indians three: 
 Surprised I was, and really thought 
 
 Them enemies to be. 
 
 But they proved kind and brought me to 
 
 A place where English dwell, 
 Port Littleton; the place by me 
 Was known exceeding well. 
 
 The time since I first captive was, 
 
 This is the fourteenth day: 
 Five with the Indians and nine since 
 
 Prom them I ran away. 
 
 I believe I have proved my contention. 
 
 G. O. SEILHAMER.
 
 Narrative of the Captivity of Richard Bard, Esq., 
 Late of Franklin County, Penn'a, Deceased, 
 With His Wife and Family and Others. Collect- 
 ed From His Papers by His Son, Archibald Bard. 
 Reprinted From Loudon's "Narratives," Together 
 With an Interpolation by Joseph Pritts From 
 "Border Life." 
 
 BEGINNING OF JUDGE BARD'S NARRATIVE, 
 
 My father, Richard Bard, lived in York County, now 
 Adams, and owned the mill now called Marshall's mill, in 
 what is called Carroll's tract,* where, in the morning of 
 the 1 3th of April, 1758, his house was invested by a party 
 of nineteen Indians. They were discovered by a little girl 
 called Hannah M 'Bride, who was at the door, and on see- 
 ing them, screamed, and ran into the house. At this time 
 there were in the house, my father, mother, and lieutenant 
 
 CARROLL'S DELIGHT, as the tract was named, was a grant of 5000 
 acres from Lord Baltimore to Daniel Carroll, of Duddington Manor, 
 Prince George's County, Md., from whom it descended at his death In 
 1735, to his son, Charles, and his daughter, Mary. In 1741, the tract was 
 sold to Archibald Beard, John Withrow, James McGinley and Jeremiah 
 Lochrey. It was afterward found that the tract was within the disputed 
 Ixjundaries of the provinces of Maryland and Pennsylvania, and in 1762 
 caveats were entered in the land office at Philadelphia against granting 
 warrants for these lands. The controversy was not finally settled until 
 1802. Bard's Mill, afterward Marshall's, later Myers', and now known as 
 Virginia Mills, was not within the limits of "Carroll's Delight," but ad- 
 jacent to it.
 
 12 
 
 Thomas Potter, (brother of general Potter) who had 
 come the evening- before (being a full cousin) together 
 with a child of about 6 months old, and a 1x>und boy. 
 The Indians rushed into the house and one of them, with 
 a large cutlass in his hand, made a blow at Potter, but he 
 so managed it as to wrest the sword from the Indian, and 
 return the .blow, which would have put an end to his ex- 
 istence, had not the point struck the ceiling, which turned 
 the sword so as to cut the Indian's hand. In the mean- 
 time. Mr. Bard (my father) laid hold of a horseman's pis- 
 tol that hung on a nail, and snapped it at the breast of one 
 of the Indians, but there being tow in the pan it did not 
 go off; at this, the Indians seeing the pistol, ran out of 
 the house. By this time one of the Indians at the door 
 had shot at Potter, but the ball took him only in the little 
 ringer. The door was now shut and secured as well as pos- 
 sible ; but rinding the Indians to be very numerous, and 
 having no powder or ball, and as the savages might easily 
 burn down the house by reason of the thatched roof, and 
 the quantity of mill wood piled at the back of the build- 
 ing, added to the declarations of the Indians, that they 
 would not be put to death, determined them to surrender: 
 on which a party of Indians went to a field and made pris- 
 rners Samuel Hunter, and Daniel M'Manimy. A lad of 
 the name of William White coming to the mill, was also 
 made a prisoner. Having secured the prisoners, they 
 took all the valuable effects out of the house, and set fire 
 to the mill. They then proceeded towards the mountain, 
 and my mother enquiring of the Indians who had care of 
 her. was informed that they w r ere of the Delaware nation. 
 At the distance of about seventy rods from the house, 
 contrary to all their promises, they put to death Thomas 
 Potter, and having proceeded on the mountain about 
 three or four miles, one of the Indians sunk the spear of 
 his tomahawk into the breast of the sir all child, and after 
 repeated blows scalped it. After crossing the mountain. 
 they passed the house of Mr. Halbert T * and seeing 
 
 *HAL.BERT T , was Albert Torrence, who lived near the bend 
 
 of the East Conococheague below Scotland. He died in 177C. An illustra- 
 tion of this peculiar spellhig is found in the case of his son Albert, 1st 
 lieutenant of Capt John Rea's company, 8th Battalion, Cumberland County 
 Associators. whose name is printed Halbert Torrence in the Pa. Archives, 
 Second Series, Vol. XIV.. page 400.
 
 13 
 
 him out, shot at him, but without effect. Thence, passing 
 late in the evening M 'Cord's old fort, they encamped 
 about half a mile in the gap. The second day having 
 passed into the Path Valley, they discovered a party of 
 white men in pursuit of them ; on which they ordered the 
 prisoners to hasten, for should the whites come up with 
 them, they should be all tomahawked. Having been thus 
 hurried, they reached the top of the Tuskarora mountain 
 and all had sat down to rest, when an Indian without any 
 previous warning, sunk a tomahawk into the forehead of 
 Samuel Hunter, who was seated by my father, and by repeat- 
 ed blows put an end to his existence. He was then scalped, 
 and the Indians, proceeding on their journey, encamped 
 that evening some miles on the north of Sideling Hill. 
 The next day they marched over the Alleghany moun- 
 tain, through what is now called Blair's gap. On the 
 fifth day, whilst crossing Stony Creek, the v.-ind blew a hat 
 of my father's from the head of the Indian in whose cus- 
 tody he was. The Indian went down the stream some 
 distance before he recovered it. In the mean time my 
 father had passed the creek, but when the Indian return- 
 ed, he severely beat my father with the gun, and almost 
 disabled him from traveling any farther. And now, re- 
 flecting that he could not possibly travel much farther, and 
 that if this was the case, he would be immediately put to 
 death, he determined to attempt his escape that night. 
 Two days before this, the half of my father's head was 
 painted red. This denoted that a council had been held, 
 and that an equal number were for putting him to death 
 and for keeping him alive, and that another council was 
 to have taken place to determine the question. Being 
 encamped, my parents, who before this had not liberty 
 to speak to one another, were permitted to assist each 
 other in plucking a turkey, and being thus engaged, the 
 design of escaping was communicated to my mother. 
 After some of the Indians had laid down, and one of them 
 was amusing the others, with dressing himself with a 
 gown of my mother's, my father was called to go for water. 
 He took a quart and emptying it of what water it contained, 
 stept about six rods down to the spring.* My mother per- 
 ceiving this, succeeded so well in confining the attention
 
 14 
 
 of the Indians to the gown, that my father had got about 
 one hundred yards, when the Indians from one fire, cried 
 to those of another, "your man is gone." They ran after 
 him, and one having brought back the quart, said, "here 
 is the quart, but no man." They spent two days in look- 
 'ing after him, while the prisoners were confined in the 
 camp ; but .after an unsuccessful search, they proceeded 
 down the stream to the Allegheny river, thence to fort 
 Duquesne, now fort Pitt. After remaining there one 
 night and a day, they went about twenty miles down the 
 Ohio, to an Indian town, on entering Avhich a squaw took 
 a cap off my mother's head, and with many others severely 
 beat her. Now almost exhausted with fatigue, she re- 
 quested leave to remain at this place, but was told she 
 might, if she preferred being scalped to proceeding. They 
 then took her to a town called Cususkey. On arriving 
 at this place, Daniel M'Manimy was detained outside of 
 the town, but my mother, the two> boys and girl, were 
 taken into the town, at the same time having their hair 
 pulled, faces scratched, and beaten in an unmerciful man- 
 ner. Here I shall extract from my father's papers the 
 maner and circumstances of M'Manimy's death. This 
 account appears to have been obtained from my mother, 
 shortly after her return, who received it from those who 
 had been eye witnesses of the tragical scene. The In- 
 dians formed themselves into a circle, round the prisoner, 
 and commenced by beating him; some with sticks, and 
 some with tomahawks. He was then tied to a post near 
 a large fire, and after being tortured some time with burn- 
 ing coals, they scalped him, and put the scalp on a pole 
 to bleed before his face. A gtm barrel was then heated 
 red hot, and passed over his body, and with a red hot 
 bayonet they pierced his body with many repetitions. In 
 this manner they continued torturing him, singing and 
 shouting, until he expired. Shortly after this, my mother 
 
 *THE SPRING where Mr. Bard made his escape is on the farm of 
 John McGhee, about a mile west of Homer City, in Indiana county. Pa. 
 Tradition points to M'Conachey's cliff, at the bridge a short distance be- 
 low the Pa. R. R. station, as the place where he concealed himself in a 
 hollow log when the Indians were in pursuit of him.
 
 15 
 
 set out from this place, leaving the two boys and girl, 
 whom she never saw again, until they were liberated. 
 She was now distressed beyond measure ; going she knew 
 not where, without a comforter, without a companion, 
 and expecting to share the fate of M'Manimy in the next 
 town she would reach. In this distressed situation she met 
 a number of Indians among whom was a captive woman. 
 To her my mother made known her fears, on which she 
 \vas informed that her life was not in danger, for that belt 
 of wampum, said she, about your neck, is a certain sign, 
 that you are intended for an adopted relation. They, 
 scon after, arrived at a town, and being taken into the 
 council-house, two squaws entered in and one stept up 
 and struck my mother on the side of her head. Pc-ce:v:n^ 
 'that the other was about to follow this example, she turn- 
 ed her head and received a second blow. The warriors 
 were highly displeased, such acts in a council-house being 
 contrary to usage. Here a chief took my mother by the 
 hand, and delivered her to two Indian men, to be in the 
 place of a deceased sister. She was put in charge of a 
 'squaw in order to be cleanly clothed. She had remained 
 here, with her adopted friends near a month, when her 
 party began to think of removing to the headwaters of the 
 Susquehanna, a journey of about two hundred miles. 
 This was very painful to my mother, having already trav- 
 eled above two hundred miles over mountains and 
 swamps until her feet and legs were extremely swollen 
 and sore. Fortunately, on the day of their setting out, a 
 horse was given to her by her adopted brother; but be- 
 fore they had traveled far, one of the horses in the com- 
 pany died, when she was obliged to surrender hers to 
 supply its place. After proceeding on her journey some 
 miles, they were met by a number of Indians, one of whom 
 told her not to be discouraged, as a peace was about to 
 take place shortly, when she would have leave to return 
 home. To this information she was the more disposed to 
 give credit, as it came from one who was a chief counsel- 
 lor in the Delaware nation with whom she was a prisoner. 
 Having arrived near the end of her journey, to her great 
 surprise, she saw a captive dead by the road side, having
 
 i6 
 
 been tomahawked and scalped. She was informed that 
 he had endeavored to escape, but was overtaken at this 
 place. On arriving at the place of destination, having. 
 \n all, traveled near five hundred miles, the fatigue which 
 she had undergone, with cold and hunger, brought on a 
 severe fit of sickness, which lasted near two months. In 
 this doleful situation, having no person to comfort, or 
 sympathize with her, a blanket was her only covering, and 
 her bed was the cold earth, in a miserable cabin ; boiled 
 corn was her only food. She was reduced to so weak a 
 state as to consider herself as approaching the verge of 
 dissolution. But recovering from her sickness, she met 
 with a woman with whom she had been formerly ac- 
 quainted. This woman had been in captivity some years, 
 and had an Indian husband by whom she had one child. 
 My mother reproved her for this, but received for answer, 
 that before she had consented, they had tied her to a 
 stake in order to burn her. She added, that as soon as 
 their captive women could speak the Indian tongue, they 
 were obliged to marry some one of them, or be put to 
 death. This information induced her to determine never 
 to learn the Indian language, and she adhered to this de- 
 termination all the time she remained with them, from 
 the day of her captivity to that of her releasement, a space 
 of two years and five months. She was treated during 
 this time, by her adopted relations, with much kindness : 
 even more than she had reason to expect. 
 
 I shall now return to the narration of facts respecting 
 my father, after he had made his escape from the Indians 
 .is before stated. It will be perceived that the following 
 verses were composed by Richard Bard shortly after his 
 wife's releasement, and were not intended for publication, 
 but as they contain the most correct statement that can 
 at this day be procured on the subject, it has been thought 
 proper to publish them, omitting all that has a relation to 
 anything previous to his escape : 
 
 'Bove six score miles we now have marched. 
 
 Yet fifty doth remain. 
 Between us and the bloody place, 
 
 Where standeth Fort Duquesne.
 
 At three rods distance from a run, 
 Encamped this night are we : 
 
 But when for drink they do me send 
 No more they see of me. 
 
 Alas! for me to go 'tis hard. 
 Since with them is my wife. 
 
 Yet 'tis the way that God ordained 
 For me to save my life. 
 
 The omitted Dart of the ballad was as follows: 
 
 On a woeful day the heathen came, 
 And did us captives make: 
 
 And then the miseries commenced, 
 Of which we did partake. 
 
 Vin eteen the number of them was, 
 And in the house they came: 
 
 But battle unto them we gave, 
 And drove them out again. 
 
 One of the foremost that came 
 With him a cutlass brought: 
 
 But cousin Potter took the same: 
 As they together fought. 
 
 At one a pistol I did snap, 
 
 But off it did not go: 
 "A pistol! pistol!" he cries out, 
 
 And from the door they go. 
 
 But ere they go they at us shoot, 
 
 Us thinking for to kill; 
 But 'mazingly God them deprived 
 
 Of their malicious will. 
 
 O, terrifying were the screams 
 
 That we from them did hear; 
 As also was the sight because, 
 
 They naked did appear. 
 Back of the house they soon ap- 
 pear, 
 
 "Surrender," they request; 
 And since their number was so 
 great, 
 
 We thought the same was best. 
 
 Then quickly came they in the 
 
 house. 
 
 And made of us their prey: 
 They did us bind and house did 
 
 rob, 
 
 And so all went away. 
 
 With us our child they captive 
 take. 
 
 A child of tender age: 
 Five more young persons are 
 
 Exposed to cruel rage. 
 
 And now together when we're sum- 
 med, 
 
 The number is just nine: 
 Which these most cruel Indians 
 
 Have captured at this time. 
 
 Not far, however, did we go 
 
 Ere to a hill we came, 
 Where tney our cousin Potter's 
 blood 
 
 Inhumanly did spill. 
 
 Those hardened savages did act 
 As though they did no wrong, 
 
 And in his head a tomahawk left, 
 And brought his scalp along. 
 
 Out of my arms my child they took, 
 
 As we along did go: 
 And to the helpless babe they did 
 
 Their crued malice show. 
 
 Both head and heart the tomahawk 
 
 pierced, 
 
 In order him to slay; 
 And then they robbed him of his 
 
 clothes, 
 And brought his scalp away. 
 
 But God the cries of innocent blood, 
 
 Undoubtedly will hear: 
 And he the same for to avenge 
 
 Will certainly appear.
 
 But after me they quickly run, 
 Nor doubting of their prize : 
 
 But God turns into foolishness 
 The wisdom of the wise. 
 
 O cruel man in vain you strive, 
 
 In vain yon follow me : 
 For since the Lord gainsaith I can 
 
 Xo more your captive be. 
 
 "If you do speak," they say to me, 
 "We'll surely at you fire," 
 
 When leave to speak unto my wife 
 I did from them desire. 
 
 To do a favor leave was asked 
 By my beloved, that she 
 
 Her love might there manifest. 
 And it express to me. 
 
 But they do aggravate our grief, 
 Throughout each doleful h~'.;r: 
 
 Xo privilege they would allow 
 To speak unto each other. 
 
 As we were travelling, they saw 
 
 A man and at him shot 
 Power and mercy here appeared, 
 
 For get him they did not. 
 
 But forty miles now having gone, 
 
 This day is at an end; 
 They halt, and here to stay this 
 night 
 
 Is what they do intend. 
 
 And here, the fire and us between, 
 Our infant's scalp they place; 
 
 Thinking that while we viewed the 
 
 same, 
 Our sorrows would increase. 
 
 And ere they do themselves com- 
 pose 
 
 In order for to rest, 
 An unseen way they take to bind 
 
 The poor and the oppressed. 
 
 And when the morning's light ap- 
 pears, 
 
 And we the road pursue, 
 An awful sight is on the same 
 
 Presented to our view. 
 
 For in our sight they tomahawked 
 One who with us was taken: 
 
 And for a bed to this poor man 
 His blood by them was given. 
 
 O, terrifying 'twas indeed 
 To hear his dying screams, 
 
 And from his head and heart to 
 
 view 
 Those red and running streams. 
 
 But at his terror they did laugh. 
 
 They mock his dying groans: 
 Most artfully they imitate 
 
 His last expiring moans. 
 
 By reason of the rugged road 
 
 our raiment it all tore, 
 And down our legs the blood doth 
 run, 
 
 Unfelt the like before. 
 
 Whilst on the dismal road I think, 
 With wondering filled am I, 
 
 How it could be that my poor wife 
 Could cross those mountains high. 
 
 For I myself did almost faint 
 
 Under their cruel hands: 
 But it was God that strengthened 
 us, 
 
 Against their hard commands. 
 
 O, may all those that never saw 
 
 Or felt the like of this, 
 -Unto the Lord give praise and 
 
 thanks, 
 And God forever bless. 
 
 With great barbarity we're used, 
 
 As guilty of a fault, 
 If, we without acquainting them, 
 
 To take a drink do halt.
 
 IJCK! the device can disappoint 
 
 Of crafty folk and wise : 
 So that perform they can't always 
 
 Their cruel enterprise. 
 
 But now although at liberty, 
 
 Through mercy I am set, 
 Yet miserable is my life 
 
 For want of food to eat. 
 
 O, dreadful sore my feelings were 
 
 Which force me to depart, 
 Whilst no provisions I had got 
 
 My life for to support. 
 
 O'er hill that's high, and swamp that's deep 
 
 I now alone must go: 
 Travelling oh, I suffer much, 
 
 For bruise my feet I do. 
 
 But now to Allegheny hill, 
 
 At length we come unto, 
 Where those inhuman savages 
 
 Expose some of us do. 
 
 As we ascend this lofty hill, 
 No wonder we're amazed 
 
 To hear the awful sound that's 
 
 made 
 When war halloos are raised. 
 
 For every scalp and pris'ner gained, 
 A loud halloo they make: 
 
 As if it were their great delight 
 A human life to take. 
 
 The night that we lay on the hill, 
 
 A snow on us did fall: 
 This was a night of sore distress 
 
 Unto each of us all. 
 
 For we could not come near the 
 fire 
 
 Through all that night: 
 O had not God sustained us 
 
 We sure had died outright. 
 
 When in the morning we arise. 
 "March on" by them we're told: 
 
 But this to us is misery great, 
 Our feet being sore and cold. 
 
 At Laurel Hill we found a creek 
 Both high and swift the stream, 
 
 So by the hand I took my wife. 
 To help her o'er the same. 
 
 But for this love I showed to her 
 
 At me they're in a rage, 
 And nothing else but me to beat, 
 
 Their, anger can assuage. 
 
 So great the strokes the cruel foes 
 
 Have given to me here, 
 That for ten days the bruises do 
 
 Exceeding plain appear. 
 
 The load to carry which they here 
 
 Did give to me this day, 
 I an acount will minute down. 
 
 From truth I will not stray. 
 
 Two bear skins, very large indeed, 
 
 And one bed quilt also, 
 Two blankets and six pounds of 
 meat, 
 
 All on my back must go.
 
 20 
 
 Unto a hill I now arrive. 
 About four miles 'tis broad : 
 
 All over this the snow doth lie- 
 Though elsehere it is thawed. 
 
 Much laurel is upon this hill, 
 Its leaves are filled with snow : 
 
 So I upon my hands and knees, 
 Under the same must go. 
 
 My hands through this excessive cold. 
 
 Extremely swelled are : 
 Of miseries I in this place 
 
 Abundantly do share. 
 
 But 'tis not only in the day, 
 
 That hardships do abound : 
 For in the night they also do 
 
 Encompass me around. 
 
 In hollow logs amongst the leaves. 
 
 At night is mine abode ; 
 No better lodgings, wet or dry. 
 
 Throughout this lonely road. 
 
 fhree days have passed since my escape. 
 
 And now for three days more. 
 I must lie by and -quiet be, 
 
 My foot's so very sore. 
 
 \mazingly my foot is swelled. 
 
 With heat 'tis in a flame; 
 And though I'm in the desert land. 
 
 Can't walk, I am so very lame. 
 
 But it is not my foot alone 
 
 That misery is to me, 
 For by not having food to eat, 
 
 My woes increased be.
 
 21 
 
 Almost five days I now have been, 
 
 Without the least supplies ; 
 Except bark bud which I did pull, 
 
 As I did pass them by. 
 
 Though I'm not able now to walk, 
 
 I creep upon my knees : 
 To gather herbs that I may eat, 
 
 My stomach to appease. 
 
 But whilst I'm roving thus about 
 
 A rattlesnake at speed, 
 I view a running unto me ; 
 
 This mercy is indeed. 
 
 For by this snake I am supplied, 
 
 When kill the same I do; 
 How reasonable this mercy is, 
 
 None but myself can know. 
 
 The rattlesnake, both flesh and bone 
 
 All but the head I eat: 
 And though 'twas raw it seemed to me 
 
 Exceeding pleasant meat. 
 
 Full souls do loathe the honey comb 
 When they've enough to eat : 
 
 Rut unto him that hungry is, 
 Each bitter thing is sweet. 
 
 When ripened is my healing foot, 
 
 Which mightily did ache, 
 I with a thorn did pierce the same, 
 
 And so of ease partake. 
 
 But lest my foot I further hurt. 
 
 My breeches tear I do: 
 And round my foot I do them tie, 
 
 That I along may go.
 
 22 
 
 But when to walk I do attempt, 
 
 Gives me excessive pain : 
 Yet I must travel with sore foot, 
 
 Or die and here remain. 
 
 So when a few miles I did go, 
 
 Unto a hill I come : 
 Whilst on the lofty top thereof, 
 
 I thought I heard a drum. 
 
 And judging people to be near, 
 
 On them I gave a call ; 
 But sure there was no one to hear, 
 
 Being weak, conceit was all. 
 
 But by these calls for help I gave, 
 
 I evidently see, 
 That I'm more spent than what I thought. 
 
 Or judged myself to be. 
 
 For though I'd raise my voice as high 
 
 As I had power to do, 
 'Bove fifty rods it can't be heard, 
 
 "Pis so exceeding low. 
 
 Being now eight days since I escaped, 
 
 I to a river came : 
 Whilst wading it I suffered much, 
 
 Being so very lame. 
 
 But having Juniata crossed, 
 
 ] to a mountain came : 
 With cold I ne'er was so distressed 
 
 /si was on the same. 
 
 For in a night that's very cold, 
 
 I here my lodgings take : 
 And as my clothes were lately wet, 
 
 I tremble did and shake.
 
 23 
 
 My hands by this excessive cold, 
 
 Are so benumbed that I 
 Can't move, no, not a single joint, * 
 
 Were it a world to buy. 
 
 Then I, though the night was dark, 
 Did homewards march away: 
 
 Lest I should perish with the cold, 
 Should I for daylight stay. 
 
 But on my journey in this night, 
 
 With joy a fire I see : 
 This was the strangest providence 
 
 That ever happened me. 
 
 t 
 For when I by the same do stay, 
 
 Until the light appear: 
 I see a road just at my hand, 
 
 Which doth my spirit cheer. 
 
 If I had not beheld this fire, 
 This Indian path I crossed : 
 
 And then, to all 'appearance, I 
 Must surely have been lost. 
 
 Along this path I went in haste, 
 
 As far as I could make : 
 But 'twas not fast that I could go, 
 
 I was so very weak. 
 
 For I had been nine days and nights, 
 
 In a most starving state, 
 Not having any means of strength, 
 
 Except the snake I ate. 
 
 But on the evening of this day 
 
 I met with Indians three : 
 Surprised I was, and really thought 
 
 Then enemies to be.
 
 24 
 
 But they proved kind and brought me to 
 
 A place where English dwell. 
 Fort Littleton ; the place by me 
 
 Was known exceeding well. 
 
 The time since I first captive was. 
 
 This is the fourteenth day : 
 Five with the Indians and nine since 
 
 From them I ran away. 
 
 Thanks to the Lord, who did provide 
 
 Food in the wilderness 
 For me, as did preserve 
 
 My life whilst in distress. 
 
 Thanks to the Lord, because that he 
 
 In desert's pathless way, 
 Directed me so that I did 
 
 At no time go astray. 
 
 And now from bondage though I'm freed, 
 
 Yet she that's my beloved. 
 Is to a land that's far remote, 
 
 Bv Indians removed. 
 
 II. 
 
 INTERPOLATION BY MR. PRITTS. 
 
 I shall now return to the narration of facts respecting 
 my father, after he had made his escape from the Indians 
 as before stated. 
 
 The Indians, as soon as he was missed, gave ch;ise. 
 Finding himself closely pursued, he hid in a hollov.- log 
 until they had gone by and out of hearing, when, turning 
 in a different direction, he resumed his flight. Two days,
 
 25 
 
 it has been said, were spent by the Indians in search of 
 him ; in the mean time, with much fatigue and suffering, 
 he came to a mountain four miles across, and at the top 
 covered with snow. By this time he was almost ex- 
 hausted, having traveled nearly constantly for two days 
 and nights, and being without food, except a few buds 
 plucked from the trees as he went along; his shoes were 
 worn out ; and the country he traveled through being ex- 
 tremely rough and in many places covered with briers of 
 a poisonous nature, his feet were very much lacerated and 
 swollen. To add to his difficulties the mountain was over- 
 grown with laurel and the snow lodged upon its leaves 
 so bent it down that he was unable in many places to get 
 along in his weak condition, except by creeping upon his 
 hands and knees under the branches. Three days had now 
 elapsed since his escape ; and although he feared that the 
 Indians were still in pursuit of him, and that by traveling 
 along the mountain they would find his tracks in the snow, 
 and by that means be led to his place of concealment, yet 
 he found himself so> lame that he could proceed no farther. 
 His hands also, by crawling upon them in the snow, be- 
 came almost as much swollen as his feet. He was there- 
 fore compelled to lye by, without much prospect indeed 
 of ever proceeding any farther on his journey. Besides 
 the danger of being overtaken by his savage pursuers, he 
 was in fact in a starving condition, not having tasted food 
 since his escape, except the buds already mentioned, 
 plucked as he journed on from the beanwood or red-bud 
 tree, as it is called. On the fifth day, however, as he was 
 creeping on his hands and knees (not being able yet to 
 walk) in search of buds or herbs to appease his hunger, 
 he was fortunate enough to see a rattlesnake, which he 
 killed and ate raw. After lying by three or four days, 
 he allayed the swelling 1 of his feet, by puncturing the fester- 
 ed parts with a thorn ; he then tore up his breeches, and 
 with the pieces bound up his feet as well as he could. 
 Thus prepared, he again set out upon his journey, limping 
 along with great pain ; but he had no other alternative, ex- 
 cept to remain where he was and die. He had gone but 
 a few miles when, from a hill he had just ascended, he 
 was startled by the welcome sound of a drum; he called
 
 26 
 
 as loud as he could, but there was no one to answer ; it 
 was but a delusion of the imagination. Sad and disap- 
 pointed he journeyed on again, and on the eighth day 
 crossed the Juniata by wading it, which on account of his 
 lameness, he accompli shed with great difficulty. It was 
 now night and very cold, and his clothes being wet, he 
 was so benumbed that he was afraid to lie down lest he 
 should perish ; and he, therefore, lame and wearied as he 
 was, determined to pursue his journey, although it was 
 very dark. Providential circumstance! for in the course 
 of the night as he wandered on, he scarcely knew whither, 
 he was attracted by the sight of a fire apparently aban- 
 doned the day before, probably by a party of the settlers 
 who were out in pursuit of the savages. Remaining here 
 till morning, he discovered a path leading in the direc- 
 tion of the settlements, which he followed with as much 
 speed as he was able. This was the ninth day since his 
 escape, during which time a few buds and four snakes 
 were all he had to subsist on. In the afternoon of this 
 day he was alarmed by suddenly meeting at a turn of his 
 path three Indians ; but they proved friendly, and instead 
 of killing him, as he expected when he first saw them, 
 they conducted him in a few hours to Fort Littleton'* (in 
 Bedford county,) a place well known to him, where he re- 
 mained a few days, until sufficiently recruited in strength 
 to proceed home. 
 
 III. 
 
 CONCLUSION OF JUDGE BARD'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 Some time after my father's return home, he went to 
 fort Pitt, which was then in the hands of the English, and 
 
 FORT LITTLETON, properly Port Lyttleton, was situated at the 
 Sugar Cabins, in what is now Dublin township, Fulton county. It's site 
 is often confounded with Burnt Cabins, a few miles distant. It was on 
 the new road to the Ohio, built to furnish General Braddock with supplies. 
 "I have called it Fort Lyttleton," Governor Morris wrote Feb. 9, 1756, "in 
 honour of my friend Geor.ere."
 
 27 
 
 a number of Indians being on the opposite side of the riv- 
 er, about to form a treaty, he one evening 1 went over, to 
 make inquiry concerning my mother. My father observ- 
 ed among them several who were present when he was 
 taken prisoner ; to these he discovered himself. But 
 they professed not to know him, on which he enquired of 
 them if they did not recollect having been at the taking 
 of nine persons, referring them to the time and place. 
 They then acknowledged it, and enquired of him how he 
 got home, &c. after which he made enquiry concerning 
 my mother, but they said they knew nothing of her, but 
 promised to give him some information by the time of his 
 return the next day. He then returned to the fort. Shortly 
 after this, a young man who had been taken by the Indians 
 when a child, followed him, and advised him. not to return, 
 for that when he had left them he had heard them say, 
 that they never had a stronger desire for anything than 
 to have sunk the tomahawk into his head, and that they 
 had agreed to kill him on his return next day. After this 
 man had requested my father not to mention anything of 
 his having been with him,, or of the subject of their con- 
 versation, he returned to camp. 
 
 I may here state that from the time that my father was 
 taken by the Indians, until my mother was released, he 
 did little else than wander from place to place in quest of 
 information respecting her, and after he was informed 
 where she was, his whole mind bent upoti contriving plans 
 for her redemption. Desiring with this view to go again to 
 Pittsburg, he fell in with a brigade of wagons commanded 
 by Mr. Irvine; with them he proceeded as far as Bedford, 
 l>ut finding this a tedious way of traveling, he spoke to 
 the coniimanding officer of the place to get captain White 
 Eyes.* who 1 commanded a party of Indians, to promise to 
 accompany him to Pittsburg. This was accordingly done. 
 
 *WHITE EYES, alias Koquethagachton, was a celebrated captain and 
 Counsellor of the Delawares of the Ohio country. He was a warm friend 
 of the Moravian mission in Ohio, and on Dunmore's War and the Revolu- 
 tion he earnestly strove to keep the Delawares neutral. While on a visit 
 to Washington. D. C.. in 1902, a great-grandson of Capt. White Eyes was 
 introduced by Senator Quay, of Pennsylvania, to Senator Bard, of Cali- 
 fornia, a great-grandson of Richard Bard.
 
 28 
 
 and the Indians having agreed to take him safe to Pitt, 
 my father set out with them, having- a horse and a new 
 rifle. They had proceeded but about two miles, when an 
 Indian turned off the road and took up a scalp which that 
 morning had been taken off one of the wagoners. This 
 alarmed my father not a little; but having proceeded 
 about ten miles further, the Indians again turned off" the 
 road, and brought several horses and a keg of whiskey 
 which had been concealed. Shortly after this, the Indians 
 began to drink so as to become intoxicated. White Eyes 
 then signified to my father that as he had ran off from 
 them, he would then shoot him, and raised his gun to 
 take aim; but my father, stepping behind a tree, ran 
 round it while the Indian followed. This for a time gave 
 great amusement to the bystanders, until a young Indian 
 stepped up, twisted the gun out of the hands of White 
 Eyes, and hid it under a log. The Indians became consid- 
 erably intoxicated, and scattered, leaving White Eyes with 
 my father. White Eyes then made at him with a large 
 stick, aiming at his head, but my father threw up his arm, 
 and received so severe a blow as to blacken it for weeks. 
 At this time an Indian of another nation, who had been 
 sent as an express to Bedford, came by. Captain White 
 Eyes applied to him for his gun to shoot my father, but 
 the Indian refused, as they were about making peace, 
 and the killing of my father would bring on another war : 
 (being of different nations they were obliged to speak in 
 English.) By this time my father, finding himself in a 
 desperate situation, resolved at all events to attempt an 
 escape; he said to captain White Eyes, our horses are 
 going away, and went towards them, expecting every min- 
 ute to receive a ball in his back, but on coming up to his 
 horse, he got on him and took to the road ; he had gone 
 but a short distance when he saw the Indian who had taken 
 the gun out of White Eyes' hand sleeping at a spring, and 
 I have often heard him say, had it have been any of the 
 other Indians, he would have shot him. Fearing pursuit, 
 he rode as fast as his horse could go, and, having traveled 
 all night, he got to Pittsburg the next morning shortly 
 after sunrise, and he was not there more than three hours 
 until the Indians were in after him : but from a fear of in-
 
 29 
 
 jury being done my mother, should he kill them, he sup- 
 pressed his anger, and passed the matter by. Here he had 
 an opportunity of writing her a letter, requesting her to 
 inform her adopted friends, that if they would bring her in 
 he would pay them forty pounds. But having waited for 
 an answer until he became impatient, he bargained with 
 an Indian to go and steal her away. But the night before 
 he was to start he declined going, saying that he would be 
 killed if he went. In this situation he resolved at all haz- 
 ards to go himself and bring her; for which purpose he 
 set out and went to a place on the Susquehannah, I think 
 it was called Shamokin, not far from what is called the 
 Big Cherry Trees.* From here he set out en an Indian 
 path, along which he had traveled until evening, when he 
 was met by a party of Indians who were bringing in my 
 mother ; the Indians passed him by and raised the war 
 halloo my mother felt distresed at their situation, and 
 my father perceiving the Indians not to be in a good 
 humor, began to promise them their pay, as he had prom- 
 ised by letter, when they would come to Shamokin, but 
 the Indians told him that if he got them among the whites 
 he would then refuse to pay them, and that they would 
 then have no redress; finding they were thus apprehen- 
 sive, he told them to keep him as a hostage out in the 
 woods and send his wife into town, and he would send an 
 order for the money to be paid them, and that if it was 
 not done they might do with him as they pleased. This 
 had the desired effect they got quite good humored and 
 brought them in, on doing which the money was paid 
 agreeably to promise. Before my father and mother left 
 Shamokin, he requested an Indian who had been an 
 adopted brother of my mother, if ever he came down 
 amongst the white peopletocall and see him. Accordingly, 
 some time afterwards the Indian paid him a visit, he liv- 
 ing then about ten miles from Chambersburg. The In- 
 dian having continued for some time with him, went to a 
 tavern, known bv the name of M'Cormack's, and there 
 
 *BIG CHERRY TREES wa> near the present town of Sunbury, then 
 generally called Shamokin. 
 
 447059
 
 30 
 
 became somewhat intoxicated, when a certain Newgen,* 
 (since executed in Carlisle for stealing horses,) having a 
 large knife in his hand, struck it into the Indian's neck, 
 edge foremost, designing thereby to thrust it in between 
 the bone and throat, and by drawing it forward to cut his 
 throat, but he partly missed his aim, and only cut the fore- 
 part of the windpipe. On this Newgen had to escape 
 from justice ; otherwise the law would have been put in 
 force against him. And it has been remarked, that ever 
 after he continued to progress in vice until his death. A 
 physician was brought to attend the Indian ; the wound 
 was sewed up, and he continued at my father's until he 
 had recovered ; when he returned to his own people, who 
 put him to death, on the pretext of his having, as they 
 said, joined the white people. 
 
 In August, 1764, (according to the best accounts of 
 the time,") my father and his family, from fear of the In- 
 dians, having moved to my grandfather Thomas Poe's, 
 about three miles from his own place, he took a black girl 
 with him to his own place to make some hay and being 
 there at his work, a dog which he had with him began to 
 bark and run towards and from a thicket of bushes. Ob- 
 serving these circumstances he became alarmed, and 
 taking up his gun, told the girl to run to the house, for 
 he believed there were Indians near. So they made tow- 
 ards the house, and had not been there more than an 
 hour, when from the loft of the house they saw a party, 
 commanded by Cantain Potter, late General Potter, in 
 pursuit of a party of Indians who had that mornine mur- 
 dered a school master of the name of Brown, with ten 
 sriall children, and scalned and left for dead one by the 
 name of Archibald McCullough, who recovered and was 
 
 *NEWGEN means Nugent; he was one of a noted family of outlaws 
 that lived on the Palling' Spnng. near Chambersburg, Pa. '''hree N''"">nt 
 brothers were mentioned in fh'r father's will, pro--'" 1 i-, i7<v> -^'11- 
 liam, Benjamin and James. William and Benjamin were Indicted a num- 
 ber of times for felonies, but generally managed to jump their bail. The 
 name of James Nugent is not found in the criminal records of Cumberland 
 county for twenty years after indictments began to be found against his 
 elder brothers, but finally at a court of oyer and termlner held at Carlisle 
 before Thomas M'Kean, Chief Justice, and George Bryan, Justice, a jury 
 was empaneled May 26, 1780, to try Benjamin Nugent and James Nugent 
 for "felony and robbery," they were sentenced to be hanged, May 29, 1780.
 
 living not long since. It was remarkable that with but 
 few exceptions, the scholars were much averse to going 
 to school that morning. And the account given by 
 McCullough is. that when the master and scholars met at 
 the school, two of the scholars informed him that on their 
 way they had seen Indians, but the information was not 
 attended to by the master, who ordered them to their 
 books ; soon aftenvards two old Indians and a boy rushed 
 up to the door. The master seeing them, prayed them 
 only to take his life and spare the children ; but unfeel- 
 ingly the two old Indians stood at the door whilst the boy 
 entered the house and with a piece of wood, made in the 
 form of an Indian maul, killed the master and scholars, 
 after which the whole of them were scalped. 
 
 *MASSACRB OF THE SCHOOL CHILDREX-Enoch Brown and his 
 scholars eleven in number were killed and scalped by the Indians, July 
 26. 1764. The school-house was at what was known as Guitner's school- 
 house in later years.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
 
 te 
 
 I \ 
 
 I I 
 
 t 
 
 2 4 
 
 s 
 1i 
 
 o 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 JAN 2 1 199 
 
 
 yi7i 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 315