After an old engraving.
]
In the days of the Indian wars and of the Revolution such danger was
always imminent, particularly when the men were working in the fields,
or out hunting to provide food for the family. Then the women, with
loaded guns, stood guard to protect the home and children from lurking
enemies.
The chronicles relating incidents of border warfare abound with stories
of heroines who played conspicuous parts in the defense of single log
houses, as well as of stations and forts. Moulding the bullets and
loading the guns, they handed them to the men, who could consequently
fire three times where they otherwise could have fired but once. If
there happened to be a lull during the fight, the women carried water
and food to the smoke-blackened fighters, tended the wounded, baked
bread and cared for the children. In cases of emergency, they stood at
the loop-holes, firing the rifles with all the skill and precision of
men.
When, during the War of Independence, the Mohawk Valley became the scene
of many horrible ravages by the Indians and Tories, Christian Schell, a
Palatine, together with his wife and six sons, occupied a lonely log
house. It was in the early hours of August 6, 1781, when 48 Indians and
16 Tories made a sudden raid upon this family. Schell and his sons were
working in the field, but detected the enemy soon enough to make their
escape to the house. All succeeded in reaching it, except the two
youngest lads, who were captured by an Indian. The latter was shot by
Schell, but it was impossible to free the boys, as they were hurried off
by other Indians.
Then the battle commenced and an almost incessant firing was kept up
until night, =Mrs. Schell= assisting her husband and sons in loading the
guns. Several times the attacks of the enemy were repelled. But when
darkness had set in, McDonald, the leader of the Tories, succeeded in
reaching the door of the cabin and attempted to force an entrance by
using a crowbar he had found in front of the house. Suddenly a shot from
Schell hit him in the leg and brought him down. Quick as lightning the
bold German unbarred the door, grasped the wounded man and dragged him
in a prisoner, thus saving the house from being set fire to, for in such
a case the leader of the attacking party within, would likewise have
perished in the flames.
Enraged by the capture of their leader, the enemy made several furious
assaults. Jumping close to the house, they thrust their guns through the
loop-holes and began to fire into the building. But Mrs. Schell, cool
and courageous, seized an axe and by well-directed blows spoiled every
gun by destroying the barrels. As the men opened a terrific fire from
above at the same time, the besiegers fell back in a hurry, and the
following morning disappeared, having suffered a loss of twenty-three
dead and wounded.
Another example of noble-spirited womanhood is that of =Elizabeth Zane=,
a young girl of seventeen years, living near Fort Henry in West
Virginia. When in November, 1782, the fort was besieged by several
hundred Indians and the little garrison of forty-two men had been
reduced to only twelve, the situation became extremely desperate, as the
supply of powder was nearly exhausted.
There was a full keg of powder hidden in the cabin of the Zanes, but
this hut stood some ninety yards from the gate of the fort and could be
reached only by passing the whole distance under fire of the Indians, a
feat which seemed altogether hopeless. But the perilous attempt had to
be made. When the commander of the fort called for volunteers, several
responded, among them, to the general surprise, Elizabeth Zane. She
argued that the garrison of the fort was already too weak for the life
of one of the soldiers to be risked. As her own life was of no
importance, she claimed the privilege of attempting the dangerous task.
Refusing to listen to any objection, Miss Zane slipped out of the gate
and strolled leisurely to her home, as though there were no redskins in
the whole world. The Indians, wondering what it meant, made no attempt
to molest the girl.
Entering the cabin, she found the keg of powder, and a few minutes later
reappeared with the keg concealed under a tablecloth. Not before the
girl had gone some distance did the Indians realize the meaning of the
girl’s mission and at once opened a brisk fire on her. But the girl sped
with the fleetness of a fawn and reached the fort in safety amid a
shower of bullets, several of which passed through her clothes. By this
daring act the little garrison was so inspired and fought with such
tenacity that the Indians despaired of capturing the fort and finally
retreated.—
In 1787 John Merrill, a settler in Nelson County, Kentucky, was awakened
one night by the furious barking of his dogs. Opening the door of his
cabin to reconnoitre, he was shot by several Indians, but managed to bar
the door, before sinking dead to the floor. His wife, a woman of great
energy and strength, jumped out of bed, grasped a large axe and sprang
forward to be prepared for the coming attack. Scarcely had she reached
the door when the Indians began to chop it down with their tomahawks.
But as soon as the savages sought to enter the breach, the woman, making
a terrific effort, killed or badly wounded four of the enemy.
Foiled in their attempt to force the door, some of the redskins climbed
onto the roof of the cabin and tried to enter by way of the chimney. But
again the solitary woman confronted them. Snatching her featherbed and
hastily ripping it open, she flung its contents upon the still glowing
embers. At once a furious blaze and stifling smoke ascended the chimney,
overcoming two of the Indians. Dazed, they fell down into the fire,
where they were instantly dispatched with the axe. Then, with a quick
side stroke, the woman inflicted a terrible gash in the cheek of the
only remaining savage, whose head just appeared in the breach of the
door. With a horrible yell the intruder withdrew, to be seen no more.
In Western Pennsylvania, in the year 1792, there stood some twenty-five
miles from Pittsburgh the crude cabin of a settler, named Harbisson. One
day, during his absence, the home was attacked by Indians, who, after
ransacking the house, carried off the wife prisoner. But there were
three children, two boys aged five and three respectively, and an
infant. As the mother had no hand for the little fellow of three, one of
the savages relieved her from this embarrassment by grasping the child,
whirling it through the air and smashing his head against a tree. And
when the older brother began to weep, his crying was stopped forever by
cutting his throat. The mother fainted at the horrible sight, but the
savages brought her back to consciousness again by giving her a few
blows across the face. At night the poor woman noticed one of the
savages busying himself with making two small hoops. The captive watched
him with languid curiosity and saw that he had something in his hand.
Then a flash of horror-struck recognition flickered in the woman’s eyes.
She saw the bloody scalps of her children, which the savage was
stretching on the hoops to dry. “Few mothers,” so the unfortunate woman
said afterwards, “have been subjected to such dreadful trials. Those who
did not see the scalps of their own children torn from their heads and
handled in such a way, cannot imagine the horrible pain that tortured my
heart!”
In the dark of the second night the poor mother managed to make her
escape. It rained in torrents, but hugging the baby to her breast, she
entered the endless forest and wandered the whole night and the next
days, making her way to the settlements. She arrived there on the sixth
day after incredible sufferings and almost starved. So changed was she
by the many hardships, that her nearest neighbors failed to recognize
her. The skin and flesh of her feet and legs was hanging in pieces,
pierced by hundreds of thorns, some of which went through her feet and
came out a long time afterwards at the top.—
[Illustration: