In the winter of 1778 or the spring of 1779, Lowry's Fort was erected, about two and a half or three miles west of Water Street, for the protection of the settlers of Water Street and Canoe Valley. Although built upon Lowry's farm, Captain Simonton was by unanimous consent elected the commander. Thus, during the year 1779 and the greater part of 1780, the people divided their time between the fort and their farms, without any molestation from the savages. Occasionally an alarm of Indian depredations sent the entire neighborhood to the fort in great haste; but just so soon as the alarm had subsided they all went to their farms again.

Some few of the neighbors, for some reason or other, would not fort at Lowry's; whether because they apprehended no danger, or because they felt quite as secure at home, we have no means of knowing. Among these was Matthew Dean, Esq., one of the most influential men in Canoe Valley, who lived but half a mile from the fort. His reason for not forting there, however, arose from an old personal animosity existing between himself and Lowry, and not from any fancied security at his own house, for he had several times, during the alarms of 1779, made preparations to remove his family to Huntingdon.

In the fall of 1780, on a Sunday evening, Captain Simonton and his wife, and his son John, a lad eight years of age, paid a visit to Dean's house. They spent the evening in conversation on the ordinary topics of the day, in the course of which Captain Simonton told Dean that he had heard of Indians having been seen in Sinking Valley, and that if any thing more of them was heard it would be advisable for them to fort. Dean gave it as his opinion that the rumor was false, and that there was no cause for alarm, much less forting.

The family of Mr. Dean consisted of himself, his wife, and eight children, with the prospect of another being added to the family in a day or two. The last words Mrs. Dean spoke to Mrs. Simonton were to have her shoes ready, as she might send for her before morning. When the Simontons were ready to start, the lad John was reluctant to go; and at the request of Mrs. Dean he was allowed to stay with their children until morning, at which time Mrs. Simonton promised to visit her neighbor.

In the morning, as soon as breakfast was over, Dean, with his two boys and two oldest girls, went to a cornfield for the purpose of breaking it up preparatory to sowing rye in it. The boys managed the plough, while the girls made what was called "steps," or holes between the corn-hills, where the plough could not be brought to bear. Mr. Dean had taken his rifle with him, and, after directing the work for a while, he saw large numbers of wild pigeons flying in the woods adjoining the field, and he went to shoot some of them. He had been in the woods but a short time when he happened to look in the direction of his house, and saw smoke issuing from it, when he immediately went to his children and informed them of it. By that time the volume of smoke had so increased that they were satisfied the house was on fire, and they all started for home at their utmost speed.

In the mean time Mrs. Simonton, according to promise, came over to Dean's house. She, too, saw the smoke some distance off, and by the time she reached the gate, which was simultaneously with the arrival of the family from the corn-field, the house was in a sheet of flame. Up to this time no one had supposed that the fire was the work of Indians.

Mrs. Simonton saw a little girl, about eight years of age, lying upon the steps, scalped; but she did not notice its being scalped,--merely supposing that the child had a red handkerchief tied around its head, and had fallen asleep where it lay. But when she went into the gate to get the child out, and the blood gushed up between the boards on which she trod, the fearful reality burst upon her mind; then she thought about her own little son, and for a while was almost frantic.

News of the disaster was conveyed to the fort, and in a few hours the entire neighborhood was alarmed. A strong force, headed by the Beattys, started in pursuit, and got upon the track of the savages, but could not find them. They even waylaid the gap through which the war-path ran; but all to no purpose, for they got clear of the settlements by some other route.

Captain Simonton, at the time of the outrage, was at Minor's Mill, getting a grist ground. On his return, he heard the news at Water Street, when he threw the bag of flour from the horse, and rode as fast as the animal could carry him to the scene of the disaster, where he arrived in a state of mind bordering closely upon madness--for he pa.s.sionately loved his little boy--just as the neighbors were taking the roasted and charred remains of Mrs. Dean and her three children out of the ashes. One of the neighbors so engaged was a daughter of Mr.

Beatty, now Mrs. Adams, still living in Gaysport, at a very advanced age, who gave us a graphic account of the occurrence.

The remains taken out were joined together, and the skeletons of Mrs.

Dean and her three children could be recognised; but no bones were found to conform to the size of Simonton's son. The Dean girls then recollected that, when last seen, he was playing near the front door with the little girl. It was then suggested that he might be killed, and that his body was perhaps lying somewhere near the house; but a most thorough search revealed nothing of the kind, and it was only too evident that the Indians had carried the child into captivity.

The murder of the Deans was the cause of universal regret, for they were known and respected by every person in the upper end of the Juniata Valley, and it did not fail to spread consternation into every settlement, even where people thought themselves beyond the reach of the merciless and bloodthirsty savages.

The reason why Simonton's child was carried into captivity, instead of being murdered and scalped, was believed to be because the Indians knew the child and expected that Simonton would follow them and pay liberally for his ransom.

The remains of the Deans were buried, and the family bore up as well as they could under the sad infliction; but it was some years before Matthew Dean fairly recovered from the blow.

The descendants of the Dean family are numerous--a majority of them living in the neighborhood of Williamsburg, Blair county. One of the young girls in the cornfield at the time of the ma.s.sacre married a Mr.

Caldwell, and was the mother of David Caldwell, at present one of the a.s.sociate judges of Blair county.

Captain Simonton never became reconciled to the loss of his son. He made all the inquiries he could; wrote to government, and even went from his home as far as to Chillicothe, Ohio, to attend a treaty; but all to no purpose: he could obtain no tidings of him. While there, he caused proclamation to be made to the Indians, offering a reward of 10 for any information as to his whereabouts, or 100 for his recovery.

This was a munificent sum for the ransom of a mere boy, considering the financial condition of the country; and the Indians promised to find him, if possible.

A year after his return home, the final treaty for the delivery of prisoners was held in the Miami Valley. Again Captain Simonton undertook the journey--then a more formidable undertaking than traversing half the Union would be now.

But he was again doomed to bitter disappointment. The children were brought forward, but none bore the slightest resemblance to his lost boy. So the captain returned to his home, bereft of all hope. The last feeble prop was gone, and Simonton was as near being a broken-hearted man as any one could well be without giving way entirely to despair.

When the late war with Great Britain broke out, Huntingdon county, notwithstanding it had more than its proportion of tories in the time of the Revolution, furnished three companies to go to the Canadian frontier. In Captain Moses Canan's company were two, probably three, of Captain Simonton's sons. They knew they had a brother abducted by the Indians, but it never occurred to either of them that they should ever see him.

The companies of Captains Allison, Canan, and Vandevender, encamped in Cattaraugus, New York,--a country then occupied by the Seneca Indians.

These Indians were neutral at that time, although they favored the American cause and readily furnished supplies to the soldiers. Among them was a white man, who appeared to hold a very prominent position.

He owned lands, cattle, horses, lived in a well-constructed house, and was married to a squaw, by whom he had several children. This was the long-lost John Simonton. After Captain Canan's company had left, two men belonging to Vandevender's company, originally from Water Street, commenced talking about this white man among the Indians; and both of them agreed that he bore a most striking resemblance to the Simonton boys.

Next day, happening to meet him in front of his own house, one of them accosted him with the somewhat abrupt question of "What is your name?"

He answered, in broken English, "John Sims."

"Are you from the Juniata?" continued the man.

"I think I am," was Simonton's reply.

"Do you remember any thing of the country?"

"I remember my father, who used to have two big fires, and large barrels, in which he stirred with a long pole."

This answer satisfied them. Old Captain Simonton had a small distillery, and the man remembered the process of distilling very correctly.

"Wouldn't you like to go to your old house and see your relatives?"

inquired one of the men.

He answered that he should like very much to do so, but that he was so much of an Indian that he doubted whether his presence would afford much satisfaction to his friends.

On being told that some of his brothers were in one of the companies, he was so much affected that he shed tears, and expressed great anxiety to see them. He evidently felt himself degraded, and saw between himself and his brothers an insurmountable barrier, built up by upward of thirty years of life among the savages; and yet he longed to see them.

While talking to the men, his wife took him away, and he was not seen again by them while they remained there. His wife had a powerful influence over him, and she used it to the best advantage; for she really began to suspect that the men had traced his origin.

Poor old Captain Simonton!--he never lived to learn the fate of the boy he so much doated upon.

One of the sons of Captain Simonton--a very old man--still lives several miles west of Hollidaysburg.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

HOLLIDAYSBURG--THE HOLLIDAY FAMILY--DEATH OF LIEUTENANT HOLLIDAY AT THE BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE--Ma.s.sACRE OF A PORTION OF WILLIAM HOLLIDAY'S FAMILY--JOHN HOLLIDAY, ETC.

William and Adam Holliday, cousins, emigrated from the North of Ireland about 1750, and settled in the neighborhood of the Manor, in Lancaster county. The feuds which existed between the Irish and German emigrants, as well as the unceasing efforts of the proprietary agents to keep emigrants from settling upon their lands, induced the Hollidays to seek a location farther west. Conococheague suggested itself to them as a suitable place, because it was so far removed from Philadelphia that the proprietors could not well dispossess them; and, the line never having been established, it was altogether uncertain whether the settlement was in Pennsylvania or Maryland. Besides, it possessed the advantage of being tolerably well populated. Accordingly, they settled on the banks of the Conococheague, and commenced clearing land, which they purchased and paid for soon after the survey. During both the French and Indian wars of 1755-56 and the war of 1762-63 the Hollidays were in active service. At the destruction of Kittaning, William Holliday was a lieutenant in Colonel Armstrong's company, and fought with great bravery in that conflict with the savages. The Hollidays were emphatically frontier-men; and on the restoration of peace in 1768, probably under the impression that the Conococheague Valley was becoming too thickly populated, they disposed of their land, placed their families and effects upon pack-horses, and again turned their faces toward the west. They pa.s.sed through Aughwick, but found no unappropriated lands there worthy of their attention. From thence they proceeded to the Standing Stone, but nothing offered there; nor even at Frankstown could they find any inducement to stop; so they concluded to cross the mountain by the Kittaning Path and settle on the Alleghany at or near Kittaning. William knew the road, and had noticed fine lands in that direction.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHIMNEY ROCKS OPPOSITE HOLLIDAYSBURG.]

However, when they reached the place where Hollidaysburg now stands, and were just on the point of descending the hill toward the river, Adam halted, and declared his intention to pitch his tent and travel no farther. He argued with his cousin that the Indian t.i.tles west of the mountains were not extinguished; and if they bought from the Indians, they would be forced, on the extinguishment of their t.i.tles, to purchase a second time, or lose their lands and live in constant dread of the savages. Although William had a covetous eye on the fine lands of the Alleghany, the wise counsel of Adam prevailed, and they dismounted and prepared to build a temporary shelter. When Adam drove the first stake into the ground he casually remarked to William, "Whoever is alive a hundred years after this will see a tolerable-sized town here, and this will be near about the middle of it." This prediction has been verified to the letter long before the expiration of the allotted time.

In a day or two after a shelter had been erected for the families, William crossed the river to where Gaysport now stands, for the purpose of locating. The land, however, was too swampy, and he returned. Next day he crossed again, and found a ravine, south of where he had been prospecting, which appeared to possess the desired qualifications; and there he staked out a farm,--the one now owned by Mr. J. R. Crawford.

Through this farm the old Frankstown and Johnstown Road ran for many years,--the third road constructed in Pennsylvania crossing the Alleghany Mountains.

These lands belonged to the new purchase, and were in the market at a very low price, in order to encourage settlers on the frontier.

Accordingly, Adam Holliday took out a warrant for 1000 acres, comprising all the land upon which Hollidaysburg now stands. The lower or southern part was too marshy to work; so Mr. Holliday erected his cabin near where the American House now stands, and made a clearing on the high ground stretching toward the east.

In the mean time, William Holliday purchased of Mr. Peters 1000 acres of land, which embraced the present Crawford and Jackson farms and a greater part of Gaysport. Some years after, finding that he had more land than he could conveniently cultivate, he disposed of nearly one-half of his original purchase to his son-in-law, James Somerville.

Adam Holliday, too, having a large lot of land, disposed of a portion of it to Lazarus Lowry. Thus matters progressed smoothly for a time, until, unfortunately, a Scotchman, named Henry Gordon, in search of lands, happened to see and admire his farm. Gordon was a keen, shrewd fellow, and in looking over the records of the land-office he discovered a flaw or informality in Adam's grant. He immediately took advantage of his discovery, and took out a patent for the land.

Litigation followed, as a matter of course. Gordon possessed considerable legal ac.u.men, and had withal money and a determined spirit. The case was tried in the courts below and the courts above,--decided sometimes in favor of one party and sometimes in favor of the other, but eventually resulted in Gordon wresting from Adam Holliday and Lazarus Lowry all their land. This unfortunate circ.u.mstance deeply afflicted Mr. Holliday, for he had undoubtedly been grossly wronged by the adroitness and cunning of Gordon; but relief came to him when he least expected it. When the war broke out, Gordon was among the very first to sail for Europe; and soon after the Council proclaimed him an attainted traitor, and his property was confiscated and brought under the hammer. The circ.u.mstances under which he had wrested the property from Holliday were known, so that no person would bid, which enabled him to regain his land at a mere nominal price. He then went on and improved, and built a house on the bank of the river, near where the bridge connects the boroughs of Hollidaysburg and Gaysport. The very locust-trees that he planted seventy-eight years ago, in front of his door, are still standing.

During the alarms and troubles which followed in the course of the war, Adam Holliday took a conspicuous part in defending the frontier. He aided, first, in erecting Fetter's Fort, and afterward expended his means in turning t.i.tus's stable into a fort. This fort was located on the flat, nearly opposite the second lock below Hollidaysburg, and the two served as a place of refuge for all the settlers of what was then merely called the Upper End of Frankstown District. He also, with his own money, purchased provisions, and through his exertions arms and ammunition were brought from the eastern counties. His courage and energy inspired the settlers to make a stand at a time when they were on the very point of flying to c.u.mberland county. In December, 1777, Mr. Holliday visited Philadelphia for the purpose of securing a part of the funds appropriated to the defence of the frontier. The following letter to President Wharton was given to him by Colonel John Piper, of Bedford county:--

_Bedford County, December 19, 1777._