U.S. Data Repository -- USGenNet Inc. -- Please read the U.S. Data Repository Copyright Statement on the following page: History and Progress of the County of Marion, West Virginia by George A. Dunnington, Publisher 1880 CHAPTER VII: CAPTAIN BOOTH KILLED-- CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN COCHRAN-- DAVID MORGAN'S ENCOUNTER WITH TWO INDIANS. On the 16th of June, 1778 Captain James Booth and Nathaniel Cochran were at work in a field on Booth's creek, near where the little village of Briertown is now situated. They were surprised by a party of Indians, who fired upon them killing Booth, and slightly wounding Cochran, who betook himself to flight, hoping to get beyond the range of the Indians' guns and escape; in this he did not succeed, for he was overtaken by them, made prisoner and carried into their towns. The death of Captain Booth was mournfully regretted by the settlers, for he was a man of great energy, good education, and possessed extraordinary talents. He was probably the most prominent man in the settlements, and his death was felt to be a very great loss. Cochran was afterwards taken by the Indians from their towns in Ohio to Detroit, where he was sold and remained a captive for a long period. While at Detroit he made an attempt to escape, and would have succeeded had he not unfortunately taken a path which led him directly to the old Maumee towns, where he was recaptured, and, after being detained for a time, was sent back to Detroit. After enduring many hardships and suffering many privations, being traded backwards and forwards among the Indians of that section and Canada, he was finally exchanged, and found his way home. A youth of scarce eighteen when taken by the Indians, he returned a man of thirty-five. He was afterwards a Captain in the militia, and lived to a ripe old age. Five of his children are still living in this state. They are William Cochran, the oldest, age 91, living at Worthington; James, father of Nathaniel. Cochran of Fairmont, who lives in Jackson county; John, living near the mouth of Booth's creek; Mrs. Hannah Rowan, and Mrs. Polly Bowman, who live near Booth's creek. Two or three days after the killing of Capt. Booth, the same party of Indians met Benjamin Shinn, Wm. Grundy and Benjamin Washburn returning from the head of Booth's creek, and Grundy fell a victim to the savages; going on farther, the Indians saw a boy about sixteen years old standing in the path leading from Simpson's to Booth's creek, mending his saddle-girth. They fired at him, and the ball passing directly through him, killing both himself and his horse. These inroads made by the Indians in 1778 led the inhabitants to make greater preparations for security than ever before, fearing that when the winter was over hostilities would be again renewed. Many of the settlements received accessions to their number from the emigrants who were constantly, arriving, and the population gradually increased until it was evident that the time was rapidly approaching when the progress of civilization would be so great that the uncivilized must give way before it, for every settler lessened the dangers of frontier life as he increased its power to repel them, Their troubles were not yet over, however, for early in the year 1779, the settlers were alarmed by circumstances which led to the belief that Indians were lurking in the neighborhood. The inhabitants around Prickett's fort especially became alarmed and entered the fort; yet their fears seemed groundless, for days passed and no signs of the Indians were seen. A sense of security began to take possession of them; but as spring was rapidly approaching, the season when the savages usually commenced their depredations, they continued to make the fort their place of abode at night, but attended to their farm duties during the day. Among those who sought refuge in Prickett's fort was the David Morgan mentioned in a former chapter, who at the time was upwards of seventy years of age. About the first of April, being unwell himself, he sent his two children--Stephen, a youth of sixteen (afterwards the father of the late Hons. William S. and Charles Morgan,) and Sarah, a girl of fourteen--to feed the cattle on his farm, which on the opposite side of the river about a mile distant. Unknown to their father; who supposed they would return immediately, the children took with them bread and meat for a lunch, and resolved to spend the day on the farm, preparing the ground for watermelons. Accordingly, after feeding the stock, Stephen set himself to work, his sister helping him in various ways, and occasionally going to the cabin, a short distance west of where they were, to wet some linen she was bleaching. After the children left the house Morgan, whose illness increased, went to bed, and falling asleep, dreamed that he saw Sarah and Stephen walking about the yard of the fort, scalped. This dream, which under any circumstances would not tend to produce a comfortable feeling in the mind of the dreamer, caused Morgan no little apprehension, when on awaking he found the children were still absent. Taking with him his gun he immediately set out for the farm to see what detained them. Impressed with the fear that he would find his horrible dream realized, he ascended a slight eminence which overlooked the field where the children were, and was overjoyed to see them safe talking busily as they worked. Unobserved by them, he sat down to rest on an old log, commanding a full view of them and the cabin, he had been there but a short time when, happening to look towards the house, he saw two Indians stealing from it towards the children. Fearing a sudden alarm would deprive them of their self-possession and unfit them for escape, Morgan retained his seat upon the log, and in a low voice, with as careless a manner as he could assume, told them of their danger and said, "run to the fort." The children instantly started and the Indians with hideous yells immediately pursued them. At this moment Morgan made himself known, and the Indians giving up the chase, sheltered themselves from his bullets behind two trees. Believing that discretion is the better part of valor, and not wishing to fight against such odds, Morgan then attempted to place himself out of danger by flight, but age and infirmity prevented his making much headway, and he soon realized that he would be speedily overtaken by the Indians, who were following in hot pursuit. Resolved to die game, he suddenly wheeled and made ready to fire at them, but seeing the motion they instantly sprang behind trees, and Morgan, wishing to save himself in the same manner, got behind a sugar sapling, but finding it insufficient for his protection he quitted it for a large oak a short distance further on. One of the Indians then took possession of the sapling he had just left, but seeing it could not shelter him, threw himself down behind a log which lay at the root of the tree. This also was not sufficient to cover him, and Morgan seeing him exposed, fired at him. The ball took effect and the savage, rolling over on his back stabbed himself twice. Having thus rid himself of one of his pursuers Morgan again took to flight, the surviving Indian close upon him. There were now no trees to shield him, and the Indian could readily overtake him; and his gun being unloaded he had no means of defense. The race had continued for about ten yards, when looking over his shoulder Morgan observed the Indian almost upon him with his gun raised. Morgan watched closly the Indian's finger upon the trigger and as he pressed it sprang to one side, letting the bullet whiz harmlessly by. Seeing that a hand-to-hand encounter was inevitable, Morgan then aimed a blow with his gun at his adversary, who in return hurled his tomahawk at him, cutting off three fingers of his left hand and knocking the weapon from his grasp. They then closed, and Morgan, being a good wrestler in spite of his years, succeeded in throwing the Indian. He was not strong enough to maintain his position, however, for the Indian was soon on top of him, and with a yell of triumph began feeling for his knife, with which to dispatch him. Fortunately for Morgan, the savage, while in the house had seen a woman's apron, and, pleased with its bright color, had- taken and bound it around his waist above the knife; this hindered him from getting at the knife quickly and while he continued fumbling for it, Morgan succeeded in getting one of the Indian's fingers in his mouth. Finally the Indian found his knife, grasping it near the blade, while Morgan caught hold of the extremity of the handle, and as the redskin drew it from its scabbard, the old man closed his teeth on the finger he held with terrible force, causing the savage involuntarily to relax his grasp, Morgan quickly drew the knife through his hand and in an instant plunged it into his body, then, feeling the Indian sink lifeless back in his arms, he loosed his grasp and started for the fort. Meantime, Sarah, unable to keep pace with her brother, who by this time had reached the fort, followed in his footsteps until she came to the river where he had plunged in and swam across. She was making her way to the canoe when her father overtook her and they crossed to the fort together. After relating his adventures to the occupants of the fort, Morgan, well nigh exhausted, retired to rest, while a party of men went to the farm to see if traces of any other Indians could be found. On arriving at the place where the struggle had taken place the wounded Indian was not to be seen. They trailed him by the blood which had flowed from his side, and presently found him concealed in the branches of a tree. As they came towards him he greeted them appealingly with the salutation, "How do do broder, how do broder," and surrendered himself into their hands. Then occurred a most shocking scene. The vindictive passions of the men were fully aroused; so that they tomahawked and scalped the wounded Indian--a proceeding worthy of savage warfare--and as if the measure of their revenge was not filled, they flayed him, tanned his skin, and converted it into shot pouches and belts. The above incident took place on that part of Morgan's plantation which is a short distance north-east of the residence of the late George P. Morgan. David's cabin stood near where the burying ground of the Morgan family is now situated, and his body, with those of his family, rest within the enclosure. About two months after this occurrence, as John Owens, John Juggins and Owen Owens were going to their corn field on Booth's creek, they were attacked by Indians, who killed and scalped John Owens and John Juggins, but Owen Owens succeeded in making his escape. A son of John Owens, who had been sent to the pasture for the horses, to use in plowing, heard the report of the gun, and not suspecting anything was wrong, came riding along on one horse, leading another. He was first observed by the Indians, and made aware of their presence by the bullets that came whistling past him. None of them took effect, however, and the Indians made a futile attempt to capture him by catching hold of the bridle reins, but he urged forward his horse and escaped unhurt.