Harbison Family

Massy Harbison was born in Hamwell township, Somerset County, N.J., March 18, 1770, and was the daughter of Edward White, a soldier of the Revolution, who served for three years, in which time he was in every battle but that of Long Island. He heard the roaring of the cannon and the din of war at the battles of Trenton, Monmouth, and Brandywine. After the establishment of peace her father and family moved from New Jersey to Redstone Fort (now Brownsville), on the Monongahela River. This was in 1783, and in 1787, at that place, she married John Harbison. In 1789 she and her husband moved to Allegheny township and settled on the head-waters of Chartiers Creek, being among the very first to locate in this region. In 1789 and 1790 the inhabitants on the banks of the Allegheny River and in this township enjoyed repose and cleared up much land and built several cabins, but in March, 1791, the Indian war broke out. The first act of Indian aggression and cruelty was the attack of the savages upon the house of Thomas Dick, living below the mouth of Deer Creek, March 18, 1791. Mr. Dick and his wife were made prisoners, and a young man living in the house with them was killed and scalped, and a considerable number of horses stolen. Mr. Dick and and wife were kept prisoners until Gen. Wayne’s victory, in the fall of 1794. On the night of March 2d seven Indians came to the house of Abraham Russ, living two miles below the mouth of Bull Creek, and twenty-three from Pittsburgh, on the Allegheny River, in a friendly manner, leaving their rifles at the door (a well-known token of Indian friendship), and solicited their supper. Their request was complied with and supper procured for them, and they sat down and supped. When they had finished their meal one of the savages went and placed himself against the door to prevent any of the family from escaping, while the rest, with their tomahawks, murdered and scalped four men, old Mrs. Russ (the mother of Mr. Russ), and six children, then plundered what they pleased from the house, bore away their plunder, setting fire to the house and burning the dead bodies with the buildings. Mrs. Dary, daughter of old Mrs. Russ, witnessed an Indian’s taking her own child, eighteen months old, and knocking its brains out against the head of her mother, by which means her mother was also killed. She, however, made her escape in pulling open the clapboard-door, with three of her daughters. Agnes Clerk escaped with two children, as did also Catharine Cutwright, who lost her husband and son, murdered in her sight. John Dary, a lad of thirteen years and son of Jacob Dary, the proprietor of the house, but who was absent from home, when he saw the Indians at supper, suspected from their manner that all was not right, and he privately escaped from the house and hid himself in a hollow tree, where he remained until the next morning, when he removed to a hole in some rocks on Little Bull Creek. Here he remained until the third day, when he was frightened from his retreat by the appearance of a wolf. Jacob, a younger brother of six years of age, escaped from the house during the bloody conflict and hid himself under a log and covered himself with leaves. While he was thus secreted the Indians repeatedly came upon the log with fire in their hands in quest of those who bad escaped. The women and children who had escaped hastened to the river, when they called so as to be heard a mile and a half, and Levi Johnson, Mrs. Russ’ son-in-law, ventured at the hazard of his life to cross the river in a canoe for them, by which means seventeen persons were preserved from the savages. The night was very frosty and severe, and those who had thus crossed the river had to run nine miles, many of them nearly naked, without shoes to their feet, and through the woods for a place of shelter. By eleven o’clock that night, William Critchlow and Samuel Orr carried the news of these heart-sickening events to Mrs. Mary Harbison, and to the other eight families within a mile of the Allegheny and Kiskiminetas Rivers. Mrs. Harbison then mounted on a horse, with one child in her arms and another about four years old tied on behind her. Although within two months of confinement she thus traveled seven miles to James Paul’s, on Pine Run, where she with her escort and children arrived about daybreak. By the time the sun rose there was between seventy and eighty women and children collected at this retreat. All the men, four excepted, had left them to pursue the Indians. The pursuers first went to the place where the awful massacre had taken place; there they found the smell which proceeded from the burning of the dead bodies to be so awfully offensive that they were scarcely able to endure it. From thence they went a mile below the Kiskiminetas, on the Allegheny, and erected a block-house called "Reed’s Station," where in two weeks all the families who had fled from Allegheny township returned and remained during the summer. John Harbison then enlisted for six months, in a corps raised by Capt. Guthrie, and proceeded to the Miami villages, under the command of Gen. St. Clair, and was in the fatal engagement in which the Indians so completely out-generaled and defeated St. Clair, where he was wounded, on Nov. 6, 1791. The Indians attacked David McKee and another young man at a fish-basket on the river seven miles from the station, and most brutally massacred them. This was the last Indian barbarity perpetrated on the banks of the Allegheny that season.

On the return of John Harbison from St. Clair’s expedition, and on his recovery from his wounds, he was made a spy and ordered to the woods on duty, March 22, 1792. The appointment of spies to watch the movements of Indians was so consonant with the desires and interests of the inhabitants that the frontiers along this township now resumed the appearance of quiet and confidence. Those who had been for nearly a year huddled in Reed’s Station block-house were scattered to their own habitations, and began the cultivation of their farms. The house of John Harbison was a favorite place for the spies to rendezvous. On May 15th Capt. Guthrie, John Harbison, and other spies came to this house to get supper, and Mrs. Harbison, accompanied by a guard (William Maxwell), went to the spring for water. While there they heard a sound, like the bleating of a lamb or fawn, which alarmed them, and they hastily retreated to the house. Whether it was a decoy, or a warning of future trouble, they were unable to determine. On the night of May 21st two of the spies, James Davis and Mr. Sutton, came to lodge at the Harbison house, and the next morning at daybreak, when the horn blew at the block-house, within sight and distant about two hundred yards, the two men got up and went out. Mrs. Harbison was awake and saw the door open, and thought the men had left it open. She intended to rise immediately, but having a child at the breast, and it being awakened, she lay with it at the breast to get it to sleep again, and accidentally fell asleep herself. The first thing Mrs. Harbison knew from falling asleep was the Indians pulling her out of the bed by the feet, when she looked up and saw the house full of savages, every one having his gun in his left hand and tomahawk in his right. Beholding the dangerous situation in which she was, she immediately jumped to the floor on her feet, with the young child in her arms, then took a petticoat to put on, having only the one on in which she slept; but the Indians took it from her, and as many times as she attempted to put it on they succeeded in taking it from her, so she had to go just as she had been in bed. While she was struggling with the Indians for clothing, others of them went and took the two oldest children out of another bed, and took the two feather-beds to the door and emptied them. They then began to destroy all they were unable to carry away, and while at this work Mrs. Harbison made for the door, and succeeded in getting out with one child in her arms and another by her side; but the other little boy was so much displeased by being so early disturbed in the morning that he would not come to the door. When she got out she saw Mr. Wolf, one of the soldiers, going to the spring for water, and beheld three of the Indians attempting to get between him and the block-house, Mr. Wolf being unconscious of his danger, for the savages had not yet been discovered. She then gave a terrific scream, by which means Mr. Wolf discovered his danger and started to run to the block-house, when seven or eight Indians fired at him, but the only injury he received was a bullet in his arm, which broke it, and he succeeded in making his escape to the block-house.

When Mrs. Harbison gave the alarm one of the Indians came up to her with his tomahawk as though about to take her life; a second came and placed his hand before her mouth and told her to hush, when a third came with a lifted tomahawk and attempted to give her a blow, but the first that came raised his tomahawk and averted the blow, and claimed her as his squaw. The commissary with his waiter slept in the store-house near the block-house, and upon hearing the report of the guns came to the door to see what was the matter, and seeing the danger he was in made his escape to the block-house, but not without being discovered by the Indians, several of whom fired at him, and one of the bullets went through his handkerchief, which was tied about his head, and took off some of his hair. The waiter on coming to the door was met by the Indians, who fired upon him, and he received two bullets through his body and fell dead by the door. The Indians then set up their terrific yells and pushed forward and attempted to scalp the man they had killed, but were prevented from this by the heavy fire which was kept up through the port-holes from the block-house. In this scene of horror and alarm Mrs. Harbison began to meditate an escape, and for this purpose attempted to direct the attention of the Indians from her and to fix it on the block-house, and thought if she could succeed in this she would retreat to a subterranean cavern with which she was acquainted which was in the run near where the Indians then were. So she began to converse with those nearest her, and they began to question her respecting the strength of the block-house, the number of men in it, etc., and being informed there were forty men there and that they were excellent marksmen, they immediately determined to retreat, and for this purpose ran to those besieging the block-house and brought them away. They then began to flog Mrs. Harbison with their whipping-sticks and to order her along. Thus what she intended as the means of her escape was the means of hastening her departure in the hands of the savages. It was, however, the means of the preservation of the fort and the people in it, for when the Indians gave up their attack and retreated some of the white men in the fort had the last load of ammunition in their guns, and there was no possibility of procuring more, for it was all fastened up in the storehouse, which was inaccessible.

The Indians, when they had flogged her, took her away with them, and also took her eldest boy, about five years old, for he was still at the door by her side. Her middle boy, of about three years of age, had by this time obtained a situation by the fire in the house, and was crying bitterly to his mother not to go, and making little complaints of the depredations of the savages. But the latter were unwilling to let the child remain behind them, and they took him by the hand to drag him away with them; but he was so very unwilling to go, and made such a noise by crying that, they took him up by the feet and dashed his brains out against the threshold of the door. They then stabbed, scalped, and left him for dead. This inhuman butchery drew from Mrs. Harbison a terrific scream, and drove her almost to blindness, from which she was brought to her recollection by a blow given her by an Indian across her face and head. During all this agonizing scene she kept her infant in her arms. They then marched her along to the top of the bank, some fifty rods, stopped, and divided their plunder captured, when she counted their number (thirty-two), two of whom were white men painted as Indians. Several of the Indians could speak English well, and some of them she knew, having seen them go up and down the Allegheny River. She knew two to be Senecas and two to be Munsies, for they had called at the shop to get their guns repaired, and she had seen them there. They then went some forty rods and caught her uncle John Currie’s horses, and two of whom, into whose custody she was put, started with her towards the mouth of the Kiskiminetas, and the rest went off towards Puckety. When they came to the bank that descended towards the Allegheny the bank was so very steep, and there appeared so much danger in descending it on horseback, that she threw herself off the horse in opposition to the will and command of the Indians. Her horse descended without falling, but the one on which the savage rode who had her little boy fell and rolled over repeatedly, and her little boy fell back over the horse, but was not materially injured. He was then taken up by one of the Indians, who went to the bank of the river, where they had secreted some bark canoes under the rocks, opposite to the island lying between the Kiskiminetas and Buffalo. Not being able to make their horses cross the river, they left the horses behind and took their prisoners in one of the canoes to the point of the island, and then left the canoes. When they landed one of the savages with his tomahawk murdered and scalped her oldest boy in her presence, which caused her to sink senseless to the ground with her infant in her arms. She was brought to mind by severe blows from the savages; but seeing the scalp of her darling boy again relapsed into unconsciousness, when they hid it and led her into the water, which revived her." The Indians then proceeded rapidly forward, crossed Big Buffalo, also Conequenessing Creek (where Butler now stands), thence six miles to Little Buffalo, and crossed it where the old Sarver mill is. Mrs. Harbison, now weary of life, tormented and beaten by the Indians, determined to make the savages kill her to end her miseries. She took from her shoulder a large powder-horn they made her carry in addition to her child, and threw it in contempt on the ground, expecting to be immediately tomahawked. They put it on again, and twice she repeated this proceeding, thus inviting her destruction; but her action pleased the Indians for her boldness, and they did not molest her.

They now changed their positions, putting the Indian behind her who claimed her as his squaw, to protect and keep her from doing herself any injury. They reached the Indian camp two miles above Butler before dark, and at night put her into a large dark bottom up a run, where they cut the brush in a thicket and pinioned her arms back, but left her hands with a little liberty. The next night they changed her to another station in the same valley. On the morning of the 24th, when her guard fell asleep, she escaped with her infant at her breast, being guided in her directions by a flock of robins, and wandered about, often hiding in rocks and caves to escape her pursuers, who frequently passed almost over her. On Saturday, May 26th, the fifth day, she struck the head-waters of Pine Creek, which falls into the Allegheny four miles above Pittsburgh, not then knowing where she was. Several times she had narrow escapes from wolves and rattlesnakes. Changing her course she came to Squaw Run (head-waters), and in the evening to within a mile of Allegheny River. The next morning (Sunday), the sixth day, she was well-nigh exhausted, but wandered around, and came opposite to the fort at the point of Six-Mile Island. She saw three men on the other side of the river and called to them, but they seemed unwilling to risk the danger of coming after her, and requested to know who she was. She replied, and they asked her to walk up the bank for a while to see if the Indians were making a decoy of her or not; but she answered that her feet were so sore that she could not walk. Then one of them, James Closier, got into a canoe to fetch her, and the other two stood on the bank with their rifles cocked ready to fire on the Indians provided they were using her as a decoy. When Mr. Closier came near the shore and saw her haggard situation he exclaimed, "Who in the name of God are you?" He was one of her nearest neighbors before she was taken, yet in six days she was so much altered that he did not know her, either by her voice or countenance. She had her infant at her breast, and was at once taken to the fort, where two of the women, Sarah Carter and Mary Ann Crozier, picked out of her feet and legs one hundred and fifty thorns, as counted by Felix Nigley, and the next evening at Pittsburgh as many more were extracted.

After her capture the Indians, who had left her, went to John Curry’s house and plundered and burned it, and then continued on to Puckety. But the inhabitants hearing of their approach were flying in every direction. A mile up the creek they fell in with the families of Flail and Mellon. The Indians fired upon them, wounding the two men and old Mrs. Flail, and captured Elizabeth, Mr. Flail’s eldest daughter. They burned the house and barn of Hugh Mellon. Some sixty women and children, who had fled from their respective homes, collected together that night at the house of Mr. McLaughlin, where the Indians came and took a number of horses from the field. On the 24th they killed Bartholomew Garvey, who was on his way to Reed’s Station with two horse-loads of bacon for the garrison there; this happened fifty rods from Chambers’ Station. In the following week Samuel Holmes, wife and daughter, on Crooked Creek, were taken prisoners. Miss Elizabeth Flail was six months in captivity. Shortly after Mrs. Harbison’s return from captivity she and her husband removed to Coe’s Station, seventeen miles above Pittsburgh, to begin life anew, having lost all their effects by the savages. There were no more Indian incursions until 1794, after St. Clair’s defeat. In June of that year they attacked a canoe going up the Allegheny, and killed John Carter and wounded William Cousins and Peter Kinner. Two or three days after this the savages attacked the boat of Capt. Sharp as he was descending the Kiskiminetas River, about fifteen miles from its mouth, and killed four of his men and mortally wounded the captain himself, who survived the wounds a few weeks and died in Pittsburgh. The boat in which they were killed and wounded floated down the stream, entered the Allegheny, and passed two stations in the night without being discovered, or without the assistance of any one on board to steer or to row her, and came opposite to Thomas Gurty’s, a little below the mouth of Deer Creek, when the fourth man died, and when the women who were in the boat, fearing that the captain was about to die and that they would be left alone, called to the people on shore for their assistance, who immediately put off a boat to their rescue, and brought their boat to the shore. Four of the men had wives in the boat with them, who were compelled to witness the murder of their husbands, and to sit in their blood as it flowed freely and warm from their veins. The wife of Capt. Guthrie, who was in the boat with her husband, was shortly after she arrived in Pittsburgh delivered of her ninth child. In December, 1794, Mrs. Harbison and her husband removed again to the waters of Bull Creek. Her husband was at this time a spy and only came home once in eight or ten days. In the following spring they removed to the mouth of Buffalo Creek, at Cregg’s Station. In the middle of May, on the approach of the Indians, all the women and children at the station, under the command of Mrs. Harbison, got into a pirogue, assisted by Mrs. Mahaffey, and floated down to Owen’s Station, where there were some men to protect them.