The Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley

I am not claiming even to myself that I, Jonathan Ogden, who was just turned sixteen years of age on the first day of June, in the year of grace 1778, was any more ardent in the desire to do whatsoever I might toward breaking the shackles which the king had forged upon us than any other of my acquaintance in or around Wilkesbarre, but it so chanced that when we learned of the doings of the Indians nearabout Conewawah, which was seemingly good proof the red villains had their faces turned toward the valley, the idea of us lads banding ourselves together came into my mind before my comrades had hit upon it.

As a matter of course, even while we were having a war of our own and among ourselves, we had heard of the Minute Boys of the Green Mountains and of Lexington, and more than once had I burned with the desire to start some such organization in the valley; but what with writs of ejectment here, and attacks by the Tories there, it seemed as if we lads had our hands full in obeying the commands of our elders, without scheming to push ahead for ourselves.

When we learned that Brant and his warriors, with the Johnsons, the Butlers, and their Tory following, were looking with unfriendly eyes toward our little settlements, it seemed of a verity that then was come the time when we few lads might do the work of men, and truly was it needed.

We of the valley had sent forth as soldiers an hundred and sixty-four men, who had already done brave work in New Jersey. When that force marched away, I question if an able-bodied man, of sufficient age to be liable for military duty, had been left at home. We had old men, cripples, and invalids, numbering perhaps seventy-five, and they, with the women, made up the entire list which could be counted on for the defence of our homes.

We in Wilkesbarre knew to our sorrow that, when it was apparent to all the world what the Johnsons and the Butlers would do, our fathers and neighbors in the army pleaded for furloughs in order that they might defend their homes; but such permission had either been refused, or no answer given to the request.

When General Schuyler wrote to the Congress, explaining how helpless were the people of the valley, and asking that some steps be taken toward our defence, a resolution was passed, generously allowing that we raise troops among ourselves, and find “our own arms, accoutrements, and blankets.”

On learning this, we all questioned whether our representatives in Congress really understood the condition of affairs when such a resolution was passed, for, if they did, then was it cruel sarcasm to give us permission to raise troops when there were none in the valley left of military age.

All this, as I thus set it down, seems a roundabout way of coming at my story. What I should write, and without so many words, is that on a certain morning in June, meeting Elias Shendle as I was driving the cow to pasture, I said to him that which came into my mind on the moment:

“What say you, Elias, to raising a company of lads here in the valley, who shall show that they can do the work of men?”

Elias stared at me with open mouth while one might have counted ten, and then replied doubtfully:

“I question, Jonathan, whether you could find six lads of our age, if you spent a full week in the search.”

While Elias was hesitating, the purpose so suddenly come into my mind was strengthened, and, determined to prove that the suggestion I had made could readily be carried out, I forgot about the cow, leaving her to wander as she would, while I said:

“Sit you down, Elias, and let us name over the lads hereabout from thirteen to sixteen years old. If peradventure we can find twenty, would it not be better those twenty were banded together with a single purpose--the defence of our homes, if nothing more--than that we remain idly sucking our thumbs, while Johnson and his Tories, or Brant and his wolves, descend upon us?”

Elias was a lad slow to think, but quick of action once he had grasped an idea, and for the moment he seemingly found it impossible to remember a single name, but, before thirty minutes were gone by, we had a list of twenty-two lads whom I knew could, if they were so disposed, act the part of soldiers, and all of whom were true to the Cause.

That was the beginning of the movement hatched by Elias and me, which resulted in the forming of a company of lads who styled themselves the Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley.

Some of our elders gave us encouragement by word of mouth. More than that, the most generous could not do, for we had already exhausted our resources in providing for those who had joined the American army; but a goodly number of the people laughed outright when we proposed to take upon ourselves, so far as might be, the defence of the settlements.

A motley party it was when we were first assembled, but I question whether in many of the colonies could have been found an equal number of lads who were more earnest in their purpose, and more ready to brave hardships and fatigue than we.

Since it is not probable that this poor apology for a history of our doings will be read by any who knew us, there is no good reason why I set down all the names here, save as it shall be necessary to speak of what this or that one did during the years which followed, for until the colonies were free, we Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley remained together, an independent company even after we joined the Continental Army.

As I was the one who had proposed that we band ourselves together, my comrades made me their captain, and Elias Shendle was the lieutenant. Other officers were not needed.

As a matter of course, we all owned muskets of some kind, for lads of our age were forced to seek food in the forest, and, without meaning to boast of our skill, I dare venture to say that two out of every three could kill a squirrel by “winding him,” which is to say that we could bring him down without inflicting a wound. We were accustomed to hardships of every kind; it was not considered a serious matter, save when there might be danger from Indians, for us to go so far afield as to find it necessary to camp in the woods overnight, whatever the season, and, therefore, were we in good bodily condition to take up such duties as we voluntarily, and in the face of the laughter of our neighbors and friends, proposed to assume.

And now that I may arrive the more quickly to the setting down of our deeds, rather than our intentions, let him who reads imagine that we twenty-two lads bound ourselves to come together in the half-ruined hut which had been built by Isaac Bassett, and abandoned when he journeyed with the other Tories to join Johnson, every morning at seven o’clock, in order to drill and otherwise put ourselves in as near soldierly shape as might be come at by me, who had no knowledge whatsoever of military matters.

In three days we had arrived at that point where all of us understood the necessity of obeying without question a word of command, but more than that had not been accomplished, and then was come the time when all those people who had ridiculed the idea of our attempting anything of the kind began to realize that we might be of valuable assistance.

A family by the name of Dykeman, living five miles or more from Wilkesbarre, were murdered or carried away into captivity by the Indians, and then it was that we were needed, for at once every man and woman remaining in the settlement set about making preparations for defence, by building stockades here or there where it seemed probable they might be needed. On the instant we were called upon to man this fort of logs, or that fortified house, that the others might work in safety, and thus, without drill or study, as it were, did we become, in our own eyes at least, veritable soldiers.

Our third station was at Fort Jenkins, about two miles above Wintermoot’s Fort, and there we had been asked to go because of word brought in that a party of twelve or fifteen, white men and Indians, had lately been seen entering this resort of the Tories.

We were to the northward of all the other fortifications belonging to our friends,--meaning those who were loyal to the American Cause,--and while opposite our station, directly across the river, were the three Pittstown stockades, we could have no communication with them save by crossing the rapid-running stream, which would require, owing to the current, some considerable time.

In other words, we lads, at whom the people of Wilkesbarre laughed, because we had proposed to set ourselves up as soldiers, were really holding, or pretending to hold, the entrance to the valley, and to do which we had not above twenty rounds of ammunition apiece.

As I have said, it was rumored that white men and Indians had been seen entering Wintermoot’s Fort stealthily, and therefore they could well be considered enemies. Whether they had left that place or not I was determined to find out, because it stood us in hand to know in what force were our neighbors.

We Minute Boys were the sole occupants of the fort, and if the Tories took it into their heads that we might in time prove dangerous, there was every reason to believe we would speedily be beset.

I talked the matter over with Elias Shendle during the first hour after our arrival at the fort, and before we were fairly settled down. He was of my opinion, that our first duty consisted in ascertaining how many of those whom we had every reason to consider enemies were in the vicinity, and because it would not look well for the captain of a company to order one of his men to do a certain piece of work, since he might be charged with not daring to perform it himself, I proposed alone to make what military men would call a reconnaissance.

To this Elias made most emphatic protest, claiming that because of having been given command of the company I had no right to leave it in order to do the work of a scout, and he wound up his argument by declaring that he himself would undertake the work.

Well, the result of it was that as soon as night came Elias crept secretly away, for we were not minded any of our comrades should know of the work in hand, lest they be eager to have a share in what was certainly a hazardous venture, since we knew full well that Wintermoot’s people would not hesitate to kill any whom they might find spying upon them.

I went with him to the small gate of the stockade, for it must be remembered that these so-called forts in the valley were really nothing but blockhouses enclosed in a fence of logs, and, watching his opportunity when none was looking, he went out, saying, as he did so:

“I shall be back before sunrise, if I come at all.”

“Ay, lad, but you must come!” I cried.

As if seized with a certain timorousness at the intimation in his own words of the danger which was to be faced, he made no reply, and suddenly was swallowed up in the gloom.

Not until he had departed from view did I fully realize how hazardous might be this venture which he was making, and asked myself whether it was warranted.