MDDM Ch. 31 "that brave Paxton vermin" (304.32)

[jbor]

Paxton Boys (1763)

As the war [against Pontiac and the allied tribes] progresses, feelings run
high against Indian people, even in places far removed from the frontier.
Near Lancaster, Pennsylvania, twenty remaining Susquehannock [many of the
tribal elders had been executed by George Washington's grandfather, Colonel
John Washington, back in 1674, an act which was condemned by both Lord
Calvert and William Penn, but for which Grandpa Washington was not
prosecuted] live peacefully on the lands of their forefathers. They are much
liked by their neighbors, and earn a living selling handmade brooms,
baskets, and wooden bowls.

On a wintry day riders thunder toward the Susquehannock settlement. Nearly
everyone is away in Lancaster trucking their wares. Only six people are left
behind, including four women, an old man named Shehaes, and a little boy,
Christy. Christy is a playmate of the Quaker children in town; he makes them
bows and arrows. The riders are an armed vigilante mob known as the Paxton
Boys. In a blast of gunfire they tear through the Susquehannock settlement.
No one is spared. Old Shehaes, asleep in his bed, is butchered with an axe
and scalped. 

The Paxton boys ride into Lancaster with bloody axes hanging from their
saddles. Two little Quaker boys recognize Christy's gun. Kindly neighbors
rush the fourteen surviving Susquehannock to the town jail for their own
protection. On December 27, the Paxton Boys - now fifty-seven strong - ride
into Lancaster, and bash open the jail door. The Paxton Boys do not regard
themselves as animals. Far from it - they are Presbyterians and, two days
after Christmas, have come to carry out the Scriptures' instructions to
Joshua - to rid the world of heathens.

*

"Those cruel men ... by violence broke open the [jail] door, and entered
with the utmost fury.... When the poor wretches saw they had no protection
... nor could possibly escape ... they divided into their little families,
the children clinging to the parents.... Men, women, and little children
were every one inhumanly murdered! - in cold blood!... The bodies of the
murdered were then brought out into the street and exposed, till a hole
could be made in the earth, to receive and cover them. But the wickedness
cannot be covered, the guilt will lie on the whole land.... The blood of the
innocent will cry to heaven for vengeance."
                                      - John Penn, Pennsylvania governor

"Near the back door of the prison lay and old Indian and his [wife],
particularly well known and esteemed by the people of the town.... His name
was Will Soc. Around him ... lay two children, about the age of three years,
whose heads were split with a tomahawk and their scalps taken off. Toward
the middle of the jail-yard, along the west side of the wall, lay a stout
Indian ... shot in his breast. His legs were chopped with the tomahawk, his
hands cut off, and finally a rifle ball discharged in his mouth, so that his
head was blown to atoms, and the brains were splashed against and yet
hanging to the wall for three or four feet around.... In this manner lay the
whole of them - men, women, and children - spread about the prison-yard,
shot, scalped, hacked, and cut to pieces."
                                      - William Henry, American colonist

"These poor people have been always our friends. Their fathers received ours
with kindness and hospitality.... Behold the return we have made to them!...
Unhappy people! To have lived in such times and by such neighbors!"
                                      - Benjamin Franklin, American colonist

Many of our old People are dead, so that we are now left as it were Orphans
in a destitute Condition, which inclines us to leave our old Habitations.
When we are gone, ill-minded People may tell you Stories to our Prejudice,
but we assure You that Distance will not alter our Affections for You.
Therefore give no Ear to such Stories, as we on our Part will not think you
can lose your Regard for Us, tho' there are some who would persuade Us that
we are now not so much regarded by you as we have been.
                                      - Catardirha, Susquehannock

            _From the Heart: Voices of the American Indian_. (1997) Edited
            and with Narrative by Lee Miller. London: Pimlico, pp. 97-99

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