Here it is >From A History of Pendleton County, West Virginia by Oren F. Morton, Franklin, West Virginia, February 23, 1910 Fort Seybert Massacre A most severe blow now befell the west settlements of Pendleton. The defense of Fort Upper Tract was intrusted to Captain James Dunlap who had commanded a detachment in the Big Sandy Expedition. A band of French and Indians appeared in the Valley and on April 27, 1758, they captured and burned the fort, killing twenty-two persons, including Dunlap himself. No circumstantial account of the disaster seems to have been written and we have no assurance that any of the defenders were spared. If the massacre was complete, it would go far to explain the silence of local tradition. So exceedingly little, in fact, has been handed down in this way that some Pendleton people have thrown doubt on the existence of the fort, to say nothing of the burning and killing. There is documentary proof, however, on all these points. The tragedy of Fort Seybert took place on the following day, April 28, 1758. In this case our knowledge is more complete. There were survivors to return from captivity and relate the event. The account they gave us has been kept very much alive by their descendants in the vicinity. Yet these divergences are not very material, although in the course of a century and a half, some variations have crept into the narrative. Through a careful study and comparison of the various sources of information, it is possible to present a fairly complete account of the whole incident. The attacking party was composed of about 40 Shawnees, led by Killbuck. There is a vague statement that a Frenchman was among them. This force was doubtless in contact with the one that wrought the havoc at Upper Tract. But since the recollections of Fort Seybert are nearly silent as to anything that happened at Upper Tract, it is probable that Killbuck took an independent course in returning to the Indian Country. The only mention of Upper Tract in the Fort Seybert narrative is that "an express" was sent there for aid, but turning back after coming within sight of the telltale column of smoke from the burning buildings. The number of persons "Forting" in the Dyer Settlement was, perhaps, forty. Very few of these were men, several having gone across the Shenandoah Mountain the day previous. Some of the women of the settlement appear, also, to have been away. There was a fog shrouding the bottoms of the South Fork on this fateful morning and the immediate presence of the enemy unsuspected. Eastward from the site of the stockade the ground falls rapidly to the level of the river bottom. At the foot of the slope is a damp swale through which was then flowing a stream crossed by a log bridge. A few yards beyond was the spring which supplied water for the fort. A willow cutting was afterwards set near the spring which grew into a tree, four and a half feet in diameter and dried up the fountain. A woman going there for water was unaware, at the time, that an Indian, supposed to be Killbuck himself, was lurking under the bridge. The "brave" did not attempt a capture probably because the bridge was in sight of the Fort and also within easy shooting range. The wife of Peter Hawes, daughter of Roger Dyer, went out with a bound-boy named Wallace to milk some cows. While following the path toward the present post office, they were surprised and captured by two Indians. Mrs. Hawes is said to have had a pair of sheep shears in her hand and to have attempted to stab one of the savages with the ugly weapon. It may have been the same one who had attempted to tease her and whom Mrs. Hawes, collecting all of her strength, pushed over the bank. Reappearing after this unceremonious tumble, the maddened Redskin was about to dispatch her but was prevented by his laughing companion, who called him a "squaw man." Bravery, wherever shown, has always been admired by the American Native. William Dyer, Roger's son, had gone out to hunt and was waylaid near the Fort. His flintlock refused to prime and he fell dead, pierced by several balls from the Indian guns. The presence of the enemy now being known, Nicholas Seybert, a son of the Captain and about 15 years of age, took his station in the upper room of the Fort and mortally wounded an Indian who had raised his head from behind the cover of a rock in the direction of the spring. This seems to be the only loss that the enemy sustained. It is said that a horseman was riding toward the Fort but, hearing the firing and knowing that something was wrong, he hastened to spread the alarm among the more distant settlers. Killbuck called upon the defenders to give up, threatening no mercy if they did not but good treatment if they did. Captain Seybert took the extraordinary course of listening to this deceitful parley. Whether the fewness of adult men or a shortage in supplies and ammunition had anything to do with his resolve is not known. A thoroughly vigorous defense may not have been possible but there was nothing to lose in putting up a bold front. Voluntary surrender to a savage foe is almost unheard of in American Border Warfare. There was the more reason for resisting to the very last extremity, since Killbuck was known to have an unenviable name for treachery in warfare. It is certain that the commander was remonstrated with but, with what looks like a display of German obstinacy, he yielded to the demand of the enemy which included the turning over of what money the defenders possessed. Just before the gate was opened an incident occurred which might have saved the day. Young Seybert had taken aim at Killbuck and was about to fire when the muzzle of his gun was knocked down, the ball only raising the dust at Killbuck's feet. Accounts differ as to whether the aim was frustrated by the boy's father or by a man named Robertson. Finding the surrender determined upon, the boy was so enraged that he attempted to use violence upon his parent. He did not, himself, surrender but was taken prisoner by being overpowered by the savages. As the Indians rushed through the gate, Killbuck dealt the Captain a blow with the pipe end of this tomahawk, knocking out several teeth. After the inmates were secured and led outside, the fort was set on fire. A woman named Hannah Hinkle, perhaps bedfast at the time, perished in the flames. Taking advantage of the confusion of the moment, the man Robertson managed to secrete himself and, as the savages withdrew, he hurried toward the river, followed a shelving bluff so that his footsteps might the less easily be traced, and made his way across the Shenandoah Mountain. He was the only person to effect his escape. The captives appear to have been halted on a hillside about a quarter of a mile to the west. Here, after some deliberation on the part of the victors, they were gradually separated into two rows and seated on logs. One row was for captivity and the other for slaughter. On a signal the doomed persons were swiftly tomahawked and their scalped and bleeding bodies left where they fell. Mrs. Hawes fainted when she saw her father sink under the blows of his executioner and to this circumstance she may have been indebted for her exemption. James Dyer, a tall, athletic boy of fourteen years broke away and, being a good runner, attempted to reach a tangled thicket on the river bank a half mile eastward and the same distance above the present post office. He almost succeeded in reaching and crossing the river but was finally headed off and retaken. It was now probably past noon and the Indians, with their convoy of eleven captives and their own wounded comrade, borne on an improvised litter, began the climbing of South Fork Mountain. A woman whose given name was Hannah had a squalling baby. An Indian seized the infant and stuck its neck in the fork of a dogwood. The mother found some consolation in the belief that her child was killed by the blow and not left to a lingering death. Greenwalt Gap, nine miles distant was reached by nightfall by taking an almost air line course regardless of the nature of the ground. Here the disabled Indian died, after suffering intensely from a wound in the head. He was buried in a cavern 500 feet up the mountain side. Until about sixty years ago portions of the skeleton were still to be seen. The next halt was near the mouth of the Seneca and without pursuit or mishap, the raiding party returned to its village near Chillicothe, Ohio. The people slain in the massacre were seventeen, some accounts putting the number at twenty-one or even more. Among them were Captain Seybert, Roger Dyer and the bound boy Wallace, whose yellow scalp was afterwards recognized by Mrs. Hawes. It is the brunette captive that Indians have preferred to spare. Including William Dyer, the four names are the only ones remembered. It is worthy of note that apart from Seybert and the two Dyers, none of the heads of families in the region around appear to be missing. Possible exceptions are John Smith, William Havener and William Stephenson. The infant son of William Dyer was with his mother's people east of Shenandoah Mountain. Of the captives the only remembered names are those of Nicholas Seybert, James Dyer, the wives of Peter Hawes and Jacob Peterson and a Havener girl. The girl either escaped or was returned and counseled settlers to be more careful in the future in exposing themselves to the risk of capture. A brave took pity on Mrs. Peterson and gave her a pair of moccasins to enable her to travel with greater comfort. It is not remembered whether any of the captives returned, except the two boys mentioned, Seybert and Dyer and the Havener girl. As the party was about to cross the Ohio, young Seybert remarked upon a flock of wild turkeys flying high in the distance. "You have sharp eyes," observed Killbuck. "Was it not you that killed our warrior?" "Yes, and I would have shot you, too, if my gun had not been knocked down." "You little devil," commented the chief, "if you had killed me my warriors would have given up and come away. Brave boy! You'll make a good warrior. But don't tell my people what you did." Several years after his return the young man sold his father's farm to John Blizzard and he made a new home on Straight Creek. Some of his descendants still live in the vicinity. James Dyer was among the Indians for about two years. He sometimes accompanied a trading party on a visit to Fort Pitt, now Pittsburgh. On his last trip he resolved to attempt to escape. He eluded the Indians and slipped into a cabin of a trader and the woman within hid the boy behind a large closet and chest, piling over him a mass of furs. In trying to find him the Indians came into the hut and threw off the skins, one by one until he could see the light through the opening among them but fortunately, for his purposes, the Indians thought it not worth while to make the search complete. After remaining a while at the old home in Philadelphia, the young man returned to Fort Seybert and for more than forty years was one of the most prominent citizens of the county. James Dyer is said to have been instrumental in effecting the rescue of his sister Sarah Hawes by her brother-in-law, Matthew Patton. Her captivity lasted three and a half years. A complete account of this tragedy may be found in a pamphlet by Mary Lee Keister Talbot entitled ""The Dyer Settlement and the Fort Seybert Massacre." The following version of the rescue of Mrs. Hawes is given in an article by Mrs. Alonzo D. Lough, in "The Moorefield Examiner" of Moorefield, West Virginia. When Matthew Patton took his cattle to market at Pittsburgh, the dealer to whom he sold them told him an Indian tribe there had a "red headed woman" among them. Mr. Patton suspected that this was his wife's sister and had the dealer to arrange for her to come into his store, where he concealed her behind his counter, and covered her with furs. The Indians began to search for her and entered the store, and as in searching for her brother, threw off part of the covering hides. Thoroughness not being characteristic of Indian habits, they ceased in both searches, before uncovering the fugitives. That night Mr. Patton accompanied by Mrs. Hawes, left Pittsburgh secretly and traveled until daylight when he hid her in the top of a fallen tree. Night came on and Mr. Patton rejoined her and they traveled again. After that he provided her with other clothes instead of her Indian apparel and they traveled by day until their return. Mrs. Hawes had been with the Indians seven years and had traveled to the Great Lakes and over much of the prairie of the middle west. The sale of personal property of James Dyer in 1807, netted $1975. Inventory included 8 horses, 65 cattle, 62 hogs and 23 sheep. There were 15 books, a Bible going for $9 and a copy of Johnson's Dictionary at $3.33. The furnishings of the house amounted to $189, including a clock selling for $60 and a desk at $25. We here have a man who read books, was considered rich and owned the best furnished dwelling in the county. Roger's estate, in 1810, brought $6403.33. ----- Original Message ----- From: firebird <pamrooney@prodigy.net> To: <WVPENDLE-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Monday, July 26, 1999 10:40 PM Subject: Ft Seybert > Could some one repost the article on the Ft Seybert massacre? > I deleted it when I thought I was saving it. > TIA > > pamrooney@prodigy.net >