JUNIATA ISLAND--AN INDIAN PARADISE--REV. DAVID BRAINERD AMONG THE
SAVAGES--THE EARLY SETTLERS, HULINGS, WATTS, AND BASKINS--INDIAN
BATTLES--REMARKABLE ESCAPE OF MRS. HULINGS, ETC.
Juniata Island--now called Duncan's Island, in consequence of the
Duncan family being the proprietors for many years--is formed by the
confluence of the Juniata and Susquehanna. Stretching northward, it
presents a lovely and fertile plain, surrounded by gorgeous and
romantic scenery, surpassed by few places in the State. This must have
been a very paradise for the sons of the forest. Facing to the west,
before them lay their beautiful hunting-grounds; facing to the south,
the eye rested upon the "long crooked river," over whose rippling bosom
danced the light bark canoe, and whose waters were filled with the
choicest of fish. With such blessings within their reach, the
inhabitants of the Juniata Island should have been superlatively happy,
and probably would, had it not been for the internal feuds which
existed among the tribes. Although the wigwams of two distinct tribes
dotted the island on the arrival of the white man, social intercourse
and the most friendly terms of intimacy existed between them. They were
the Shawnees and the Conoys. Then, too, it betokened a peaceable spot,
and yet it had been a famous Indian battle-ground in its day. The
traditions speak of a battle fought many years ago, between the
Delawares and the Cayugas, on this island, when the gullies ran red
with blood of mighty warriors, and the bones of a thousand of them were
entombed in one common grave upon the battle-field. Both tribes
suffered severely. The Delawares, although they lost the most braves,
and were ultimately driven from the field, fought with the most savage
desperation; but the Cayugas had the advantage in point of numbers, and
some of them used fire-arms, then totally unknown to the Delawares.
The first adventurers who went up the Susquehanna were Indian traders,
who took up articles for traffic in canoes. Fascinated by the beautiful
scenery of the country, and impressed with the idea that corn and
fruits grew upon the island spontaneously, these traders did not fail
to give it a name and reputation; and curiosity soon prompted others to
visit the "Big Island," as they called it. Some of them soon went so
far as to contemplate a settlement upon it. This, however, the Indians
would not permit; they were willing to trade at all times with them,
but the island was a kind of reservation, and on no condition would
they permit the pale-faces to share it with them. Even had they
suffered white men to settle among them, none would have repented the
act, as a rash step, more bitterly than the white men themselves; for
the Shawnees were a treacherous nation, and exceedingly jealous of any
innovations upon their rights or the customs of their fathers.
Still, the island became settled at an early day. The roving Shawnees
pushed their way westward, and the prejudices of those who took their
place were probably overcome by presents of guns, ammunition, tobacco,
and _fire-water_.
The Rev. David Brainerd, a devout and pious missionary, visited the
island in 1745, in the spring while going up the river, and in the fall
while returning. His object was to convert the Indians, which he found
quite as hopeless a task as did Heckwelder and Loskiel, who preceded
him with the same object in view. During his peregrinations Brainerd
kept a journal, which, together with his life, was published by the
American Tract Society. From this journal we extract the following, in
order to give his views of savage life, as well as an interesting
account of what he saw and heard at the island:--
Sept. 20.--Visited the Indians again at Juneauta Island, and found
them almost universally very busy in making preparations for a
great sacrifice and dance. Had no opportunity to get them together
in order to discourse with them about Christianity, by reason of
their being so much engaged about their sacrifice. My spirits were
much sunk with a prospect so very discouraging, and specially
seeing I had this day no interpreter but a pagan, who was as much
attached to idolatry as any of them, and who could neither speak
nor understand the language of these Indians; so that I was under
the greatest disadvantages imaginable. However, I attempted to
discourse privately with some of them, but without any appearance
of success; notwithstanding, I still tarried with them.
The valuable interpreter was probably a Delaware Indian, who was a
visitor to take part in the dance and sacrifice, while the inhabitants
of the island were Shawnees, who originally came from the south, and
their languages were entirely dissimilar. Brainerd calls them "pagans"
and "idolaters." This is a charge the Indians used to combat most
vehemently. They most unquestionably had small images carved out of
wood to represent the Deity; yet they repudiated the idea of
worshipping the wood, or the wooden image, merely using it as a symbol
through which to worship the Unseen Spirit. If such was the fact, they
could not well be called pagans in the common acceptation of the term.
The journal goes on to say:--
In the evening they met together, nearly one hundred of them, and
danced around a large fire, having prepared ten fat deer for the
sacrifice. The fat of the inwards they burnt in the fire while they
were dancing, which sometimes raised the flame to a prodigious
height, at the same time yelling and shouting in such a manner that
they might easily have been heard two miles or more. They continued
their sacred dance nearly all night; after which they ate the flesh
of the sacrifice, and so retired each one to his own lodging.
Making a burnt-offering of the deer-fat to illuminate the dance, and to
make a meat-offering to the insatiate Indian appetite, after undergoing
such fatigues, of the roasted venison, had not much idolatry in it.
Unconnected with any religious ceremony, such a proceeding might have
been considered rational, and coming altogether within the meaning of
the Masonic principle which recognises "refreshment after labor." Mr.
Brainerd continues:--
Lord's-day, Sep. 21.--Spent the day with the Indians on the island.
As soon as they were well up in the morning, I attempted to
instruct them, and labored for that purpose to get them together,
but soon found they had something else to do; for near noon they
gathered together all their powaws, or conjurors, and set about
half a dozen of them playing their juggling tricks and acting their
frantic, distracted postures, in order to find out why they were
then so sickly upon the island, numbers of them being at that time
disordered with a fever and bloody flux. In this exercise they were
engaged for several hours, making all the wild, ridiculous, and
distracted motions imaginable; sometimes singing, sometimes
howling, sometimes extending their hands to the utmost stretch and
spreading all their fingers: they seemed to push with them as if
they designed to push something away, or at least to keep it off at
arm's-end; sometimes stroking their faces with their hands, then
spouting water as fine as mist; sometimes sitting flat on the
earth, then bowing down their faces to the ground; then wringing
their sides as if in pain and anguish, twisting their faces,
turning up their eyes, grunting, puffing, &c.
This looks more like idolatry than sacrificing ten fat deer and dancing
by the light of their burning fat. Yet, if curing disease by powwowing,
incantation, or the utterance of charms, can be considered idolatry, we
are not without it even at this late day. We need not go out of the
Juniata Valley to find professing Christians who believe as much in
cures wrought by charms as they do in Holy Writ itself.
"Their monstrous actions tended to excite ideas of horror, and
seemed to have something in them, as I thought, peculiarly suited
to raise the devil, if he could be raised by any thing odd,
ridiculous, and frightful. Some of them, I could observe, were much
more fervent and devout in the business than others, and seemed to
chant, whoop, and mutter, with a degree of warmth and vigor as if
determined to awaken and engage the powers below. I sat at a small
distance, not more than thirty feet from them, though undiscovered,
with my Bible in my hand, resolving, if possible, to spoil their
sport and prevent their receiving any answers from the infernal
world, and there viewed the whole scene. They continued their
hideous charms and incantations for more than three hours, until
they had all wearied themselves out, although they had in that
space of time taken several intervals of rest; and at length broke
up, I apprehend, without receiving any answer at all."
Very likely they did not; but is it not most singular that a man with
the reputation for piety and learning that Brainerd left behind him
should arm himself with a Bible to spoil the spirit of the Indians, in
case their incantations should raise the demon of darkness, which, it
would really appear, he apprehended? In speaking of the Shawnee
Indians, or "Shawanose," as they were then called, he stigmatizes them
as "drunken, vicious, and profane." What their profanity consisted of
he does not say. According to all Indian historians, the Indians had
nothing in their language that represented an oath. Brainerd goes on to
say of the Shawnees:--
Their customs, in various other respects, differ from those of the
other Indians upon this river. They do not bury their dead in a
common form, but let their flesh consume above the ground, in close
cribs made for that purpose. At the end of a year, or sometimes a
longer space of time, they take the bones, when the flesh is all
consumed, and wash and scrape them, and afterward bury them with
some ceremony. Their method of charming or conjuring over the sick
seems somewhat different from that of the other Indians, though in
substance the same. The whole of it, among these and others,
perhaps, is an imitation of what seems, by Naaman's expression, (2
Kings v. 11,) to have been the custom of the ancient heathen. It
seems chiefly to consist of their "striking their hands over the
deceased," repeatedly stroking them, "and calling upon their God,"
except the spurting of water like a mist, and some other frantic
ceremonies common to the other conjurations which I have already
mentioned.
In order to give Mr. Brainerd's impression of their customs, as well as
an interesting account of a "medicine-man" who possessed rather
singular religious opinions, we shall close with his journal, with
another paragraph:--
When I was in this region in May last, I had an opportunity of
learning many of the notions and customs of the Indians, as well
as observing many of their practices. I then travelled more than
one hundred and thirty miles upon the river, above the English
settlements, and in that journey met with individuals of seven or
eight distinct tribes, speaking as many different languages. But of
all the sights I ever saw among them, or indeed anywhere else, none
appeared so frightful or so near akin to what is usually imagined
of _infernal powers_, none ever excited such images of terror in
my mind, as the appearance of one who was a devout and zealous
reformer, or rather restorer of what he supposed was the ancient
religion of the Indians. He made his appearance in his _pontifical
garb_, which was a coat of _bear-skins_, dried with the hair on,
and hanging down to his toes; a pair of bear-skin stockings, and a
great _wooden_ face, painted, the one half black, the other half
tawny, about the color of an Indian's skin, with an extravagant
mouth, but very much awry; the face fastened to a bear-skin cap,
which was drawn over his head. He advanced toward me with the
instrument in his hand which he used for music in his idolatrous
worship, which was a dry tortoise-shell with some corn in it, and
the neck of it drawn on to a piece of wood, which made a very
convenient handle. As he came forward, he beat his tune with the
rattle, and danced with all his might, but did not suffer any part
of his body, not so much as his fingers, to be seen. No one would
have imagined, from his appearance or actions, that he could have
been a human creature, if they had not had some intimation of it
otherwise. When he came near me, I could not but shrink away from
him, although it was then noonday, and I knew who it was, his
appearance and gestures were so prodigiously frightful. He had a
house consecrated to religious uses, with divers images cut upon
the several parts of it. I went in, and found the ground beaten
almost as hard as a rock with their frequent dancing upon it. I
discoursed with him about Christianity. Some of my discourse he
seemed to like, but some of it he disliked extremely. He told me
that God had taught him his religion, and that he never would turn
from it, but wanted to find some who would join heartily with him
in it; for the Indians, he said, were grown very degenerate and
corrupt. He had thoughts, he said, of leaving all his friends, and
travelling abroad, in order to find some who would join with him;
for he believed that God had some good people somewhere, who felt
as he did. He had not always, he said, felt as he now did; but had
formerly been like the rest of the Indians, until about four or
five years before that time. Then, he said, his heart was very much
distressed, so that he could not live among the Indians, but got
away into the woods, and lived alone for some months. At length, he
said, God comforted his heart, and showed him what he should do;
and since that time he had known God and tried to serve him, and
loved all men, be they who they would, so as he never did before.
He treated me with uncommon courtesy, and seemed to be hearty in
it. I was told by the Indians that he opposed their drinking strong
liquor with all his power; and that if at any time he could not
dissuade them from it by all he could say, he would leave them, and
go crying into the woods. It was manifest that he had a set of
religious notions, which he had examined for himself and not taken
for granted upon bare tradition; and he relished or disrelished
whatever was spoken of a religious nature, as it either agreed or
disagreed with _his standard_. While I was discoursing, he would
sometimes say, "Now that I like; so God has taught me," &c.; and
some of his sentiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied the
existence of a devil, and declared there was no such creature known
among the Indians of old times, whose religion he supposed he was
attempting to revive. He likewise told me that departed souls went
_southward_, and that the difference between the good and bad was
this: that the former were admitted into a beautiful town with
spiritual walls, and that the latter would forever hover around
these walls in vain attempts to get in. He seemed to be sincere,
honest, and conscientious, in his own way, and according to his own
religious notions, which was more than ever I saw in any other
pagan. I perceived that he was looked upon and derided among most
of the Indians as a _precise zealot_, who made a needless noise
about religious matters; but I must say that there was something in
his temper and disposition which looked more like true religion
than any thing I ever observed among other heathens.
If Brainerd was not grossly imposed upon, the Indian was a remarkable
man, and his code of ethics might be used with profit by a great many
persons now treading the paths of civilization and refinement. But it
is more than probable that he had based the groundwork of his religion
on what he had learned from the Moravian missionaries. In the ensuing
summer Brainerd again ascended the Susquehanna, where he contracted
disease by exposure, and died in the fall.
The earliest permanent white settler upon the island was a gentleman
named Hulings, who located near the mouth of the Juniata, over which,
in after years, he established a ferry; and, after travel increased and
the traders took their goods up the rivers on pack-horses, he built a
sort of causeway, or bridge, for the passage of horses, at the upper
end of the island. He settled on the island in 1746. He was followed by
another adventurer, named Watts, who staked out a small patch of land,
with the view of farming it. It was already cleared, and he purchased
it from the Indians. The children of these families intermarried, and
their descendants to this day own the greater portion of the island. A
few years after the settlement of Watts and Hulings, a gentleman named
Baskin came from below, and settled near the point of the island. He
was an enterprising man, and had no sooner erected himself a temporary
shelter than he established a ferry across the Susquehanna. The ferry
became profitable, and Baskin realized a fortune out of it. It was a
sort of heirloom in the family for several generations, until the State
improvements were built, when a bridge was erected. Baskin's Ferry was
known far and wide; and there are still some descendants of the name
residing, or who did reside a few years ago, where the ferry crossed.
Shortly after Braddock's defeat, the country was greatly alarmed by
rumors that the French and Indians were coming down the Susquehanna in
great numbers, with the avowed intention of slaughtering the British
colonists and laying waste all their habitations. Nor was this rumor
without foundation; for the massacres already committed up the
Susquehanna seemed fully to justify the apprehension. Travel along the
river was suspended, and a portion of the settlers fled to Paxton.
Hulings abandoned his ferry, and, with a convoy of friendly Delaware
Indians, he went to Fort Duquesne, where he immediately purchased land,
with the view of settling permanently. There, however, he found little
more peace and quiet than he enjoyed at the island. The country was
rife with alarms of Indian depredations, and the settlers were in
constant dread of an attack which they could not repel. Hulings became
dissatisfied, because the exchange had disappointed all his reasonable
expectations, and he determined to return. To this end he disposed of
his land for £200--land which now composes the heart of the city of
Pittsburg, and could not be purchased for £2,000,000. In company with
another party of friendly Indians on their way to the east, he returned
to the island, re-established his ferry, built himself a house at the
bridge, and for some years lived in security.
About 1761, accounts of Indian depredations above again alarmed the
lower settlements; but Mr. Hulings paid no attention to them, until a
large number of them were seen but a short distance above the island,
encamped upon a piece of table-land. In great haste he packed up a few
of his most valuable articles, and, putting his wife and child upon a
large black horse, took them to the Point, so as to be ready to fly the
moment the savages made their appearance. At this place there was a
half-fallen tree, from the branches of which an excellent view of his
house, as well as of the path beyond it, could be obtained. Here
Hulings watched for some time, hoping that if the Indians did come
down, and find his house abandoned, they would go up the Juniata.
Suddenly it occurred to Hulings that in his haste he had left some
valuable keepsakes, and he returned forthwith alone. After
reconnoitering for some time, he entered the house, and was somewhat
surprised to find an Indian tinkering at his gun-lock. The savage was
unable to shoot, and, as Hulings was a man of powerful frame, he feared
to make a personal attack upon him. Both appeared to be ready to act
upon the defensive, but neither was willing to risk an attack.
In the mean time, the reconnoitering and parleying of Hulings had taken
up so much time that Mrs. Hulings became alarmed, and concluded that
her husband had been murdered. Without a thought of the danger, she
took her child upon the horse before her, plunged him into the
Susquehanna, and the noble charger carried them safely to the other
shore--a distance of nearly a mile, and at a time, too, when the river
was unusually high! Such an achievement in modern times would make a
woman a heroine, whose daring would be extolled from one end of the
land to the other.
Soon after this extraordinary feat, Mr. Hulings arrived, and he, in
turn, became alarmed at the absence of his wife; but he soon saw her
making a signal on the other side, and, immediately unmooring a canoe
at the mouth of the Juniata, he got into it and paddled it over. It was
the only canoe in the neighborhood,--an old one left by Baskin when he
fled. Hulings had scarcely rejoined his wife before he saw the flames
shooting up from the old log ferry-house, and the savages dancing
around it, brandishing their weapons; but they were out of harm's way,
and succeeded in reaching Paxton the same day. In a year or so they
returned, and ended their days on the island.
Reference is made by historians to a battle fought between the whites
and Indians on the island in 1760. The old inhabitants, too, spoke of
one, but we could ascertain nothing definite on the subject. No mention
whatever is made of it in the Colonial Records.
After this period but few of the roving bands or war-parties ever came
down either the Susquehanna or the Juniata as far as the island. The
massacre of the Conestoga Indians inspired the up-country savages with
so much terror that they deemed it certain death to go near the
settlement of the Paxton boys.
By the time the Revolution commenced, the neighborhood of the mouth of
the Juniata was thickly populated, and the inhabitants had within their
reach ample means of defence; so that the savages in the employ of the
British prudently confined their operations to the thickly-settled
frontier.