Historical Tales [calibre 5.4.1]

This attack was the work of Simon Girty, one of the most detestable characters that the drama of American history ever brought upon the stage. He was the offspring of crime, his parents being irredeemably besotted and vicious. Of their four sons, two, who were taken prisoner by the Indian at Braddock's defeat, developed into monsters of wickedness. James was adopted by the Delawares, and became the fiercest savage of the tribe. Simon grew into a great hunter among the Senecas,—unfortunately a hunter of helpless human beings as much as of game,—and for twenty years his name was a terror in every white household of the Ohio country. He is spoken of as honest. It was his one virtue, the sole redeeming leaven in a life of vice, savagery, and cruelty.

INDIAN ATTACK AND GALLANT DEFENCE.

In the summer of 1777 this evil product of frontier life collected a force of four hundred Indians for an assault on the white. His place of rendezvous was Sandusky; his ostensible purpose to cross the Ohio and attack the Kentucky frontier settlements. On reaching the river, however, he suddenly turned up its course, and made all haste towards Fort Henry, then garrisoned by Colonel Sheppard, with about forty men.

The movements of Girty were known, and alarm as to their purpose was widely felt. Sheppard had his scouts out, but the shrewd renegade managed to deceive them, and to appear before Fort Henry almost unannounced. Happily, the coming of this storm of savagery was discovered in time enough to permit the inhabitants of Wheeling, then composed of some twenty-five log huts, to fly for refuge to the fort.

A reconnoitring party had been sent out under Captain Mason. These were ambushed by the cunning leader of the Indians, and more than half of them fell victims to the rifle and the tomahawk. Their perilous position being perceived, a party of twelve more, under Captain Ogle, sallied to their rescue. They found themselves overwhelmingly outnumbered, and eight of the twelve fell. These untoward events frightfully reduced the garrison. Of the original forty only twelve remained, some of them little more than boys. Within the fort were this little garrison and the women and children of the settlement. Outside raged four hundred savage warriors, under a skilful commander. It seemed absolute madness to attempt a defence. Yet Colonel Sheppard was not one of the men who lightly surrender. Death by the rifle was, in his view, better than death at the stake. With him were two men, Ebenezer and Silas Zane, of his own calibre, while the whole garrison was made up of hearts of oak.

As for the women in the fort, though they were of little use in the fight, they could lend their aid in casting bullets, making cartridges, and loading rifles. Among them was one, Elizabeth Zane, sister of the two men named, who was to perform a far more important service. She had just returned from school in Philadelphia, knew little of the horrors of border warfare, but had in her the same indomitable spirit that distinguished her brothers. A woman she was of heroic mould, as the events will prove.

It was in the early morning of September 26 that Girty appeared before the fort. A brief period sufficed, in the manner related, to reduce the garrison to a mere handful. Sure now of success, Girty advanced towards the palisades with a white flag, and demanded an unconditional surrender.

Colonel Sheppard was ready with his answer. He had already felt the pulse of his men, and found that it beat with the same high spirit as his own. He mounted upon the ramparts, stern and inflexible, and hurled back his reply,—

"This fort shall never be surrendered to you, nor to any other man, while there is an American left to defend it."

"Are you mad, man?" cried Girty. "Do you know our force? Do you know your own? Resistance is folly."

"I know you, Simon Girty. That is enough to know. You have my answer."

In a rage, Girty hurled back a volley of dark threats, then turned away, and ordered an instant attack. Unluckily for the garrison, some of the deserted log-huts were sufficiently near to shelter the Indians, and enable them to assault the fort under cover. They swarmed into these houses, and for six hours kept up an incessant fire on the works, wasting their bullets, as it proved, for none of them did harm to fort or man. As for the defenders, they had no ammunition to waste. But most of them were sharp-shooters, and they took good care that every bullet should tell. Nearly every report from behind the walls told a story of wound or death. As good fortune willed, the savages had no artillery, and were little disposed to hazard their dusky skins in an assault in force on the well-defended walls.

At midday the attack temporarily ceased. The Indians withdrew to the base of Wheeling Hill, and the uproar of yells and musketry was replaced by a short season of quiet. It was a fortunate reprieve for the whites. Their powder was almost exhausted. Had the assault continued for an hour longer their rifles must have ceased to reply.

What was to be done? The Indians had withdrawn only for rest and food. They would soon be at their threatening work again. Answer to them could not long be continued. When the fire from the fort ceased all would be over. The exultant savages would swarm over the undefended walls, and torture and outrage be the lot of all who were not fortunate enough to die in the assault.