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MAR 29 1899

LIBRARY.

Bright fund.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, BY JOHN MCDONALD,

in the Clerk's Office for the District Court of Ohio.

PREFACE.

IN presenting the reader with the following narratives of the distinguished men whose characters are attempted to be delineated, no apology is deemed necessary. The subject is one in which all men, who love to see portrayed from the stump, the rise, and progressive improvements of our country, must feel a lively interest. Is there a man whose feelings are so obtuse, as not to follow General Massie and his compatriots, with intense anxiety, through the wilderness, surveying the country, and forming new settlements in the midst of dangers and difficulties the most appalling? if such there be, I envy him not his insensible stupidity.

The defects in the composition, none will more sincerely deplore than myself; and I regret, more than any other can, that my attainments as an author are not more fully equal to the subjects on which I have treated.

I have endured more pain, from diffidence and even timidity, in presenting myself to the public as an author, than I have suffered from fear in the most dangerous situation. It must appear novel to see a man over sixty years of age, without any of the advantages of education, having but little leisure, and always hard pressed to secure a living, turn his attention to the labor of composition in the evening of life. Under these disadvantageous circumstances, little eclat is expected; if humble mediocrity is allowed I will be content. I took up my pen to rescue from oblivion the names of men who "have done some service to the state."

In this age of enterprise and intellectual improvement, shall it be said by posterity, that, while the bones of our pioneer fathers are

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mouldering into dust, no record of their useful labors shall be preserved to perpetuate their memories? "The man dies, but his memory should live."

There are certain epochs in the history of every country which indissolubly fix themselves in the memory of its inhabitants, from generation to generation. The war for independence, and the first settling of the western country being simultaneous, these were the starting points, from which we date our national existence. The brilliant achievements performed by our forefathers to effect these memorable objects appear to have formed the critical ERA, on which long hung, in doubtful suspense, the destiny of these United States. It will be admitted by all, that the old Indian war was a continuation of the war of the Revolution. And, as Thomas Paine eloquently said in his Crisis, "these are the times that try men's souls; the summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will in this crisis shrink from the service of his country-but he that stands it out now deserves the love and thanks of man and woman."

In many scenes of the grand drama, were tragedies performed which, for boldness and sublimity of execution, throw romance into shade. The names and characters of some of the actors have found a place in the history of the country-but of many, very many, who in that crisis performed brilliant exploits, the names and memories are lost forever; whilst the names of others are only remembered in lingering, changeful, traditionary legends.

In attempting to describe the awful catastrophes and frightful combats which took place on the western frontier, we sometimes meet incidents to which language is not equal. "The conception is too bulky to be born alive, and in the struggle for expression every finger tries to be a tongue." When we reflect on the bold assaults, or the ingenious, masterly retreats of the old frontier-men-the patient fortitude with which they endured fatigue and hunger—it is evident, that man little knows till he is tried in the school of adversity what calamities and hardships are beyond his endurance. The dangers from their enemies, though great, were only an item in the catalogue of their sufferings. They had to travel through thick woods without road or path, scratched with briars, stung by nettles, or torn by thorns. When night approached, no shelter to protect them from the "pitiless pelting of the storm," or comfortable couch on which to repose their weary limbs; the moist earth was

their bed, the firmament of heaven their covering; tormented with gnats and musquitoes, their nights were sleepless; when morning light returned, their cares and watchfulness were resumed, to guard against the danger of being surprised by their bold, vigilant and dexterous enemy.

It must be remembered that the period is almost at hand, when to speak of the enterprising men who first settled on the banks of the beautiful river Ohio, from personal knowledge, will be closed forever. Who, and what they were, and what they accomplished, if not immediately recorded, can shortly be known only as traditionary legends. To cast his mite of information on this subject, to those who may succeed him, is the principal design of the author.

When a retrospective glance is taken of the path pursued by the old frontier-men, and the difficulties and dangers encountered and overcome, all will admit, that they performed their fearful duties with a firmness unsurpassed in the annals of history. Many of them bled under the tomahawk of the red men, and to all their existence was one connected period of toil, privation, and watchfulness.

Having been an humble actor in many of the scenes described, the incidents which I did not witness were communicated by the actors shortly after the events took place, so that the reader can place the fullest reliance in the truth of the narratives related in the following pages.

The biography of General Massie I had published in the Western Christian Advocate some time since; and, as herewith presented, it has been revised by Henry Massie, (son of the General,) and I have no doubt is much improved on the original draft. Perhaps the work would have pleased better had his friendly pen revised the other parts of the volume.

It is unnecessary to inform the reader that the author of the following pages makes no pretension to the accomplishment of learning this the learned reader will soon discover. My early life was passed with hunters, boatmen, and soldiers, where there were but rare opportunities of associating with men of learning, or polite acquirements. I have the most humble opinion of my literary abilities; and when I engaged in writing and publishing in the newspapers sketches of the lives of some of the old backwoodsmen, with whose history I was well acquainted, it was without the most distant idea of writing a book. The approbation with which my narratives ap