The Wyoming Massacre - July 3rd 1778

Not all America at 250 stories have a happy ending. Not all have heroes. But they deserve to be told anyway. This is one of those…

In the 17th and 18th centuries, the Wyoming Valley of northeastern Pennsylvania was oddly controversial. A beautiful, lush and fertile valley along the banks of the Susquehanna River, it became the ball in two different games of three-card Monte, played by both the Iroquois and the British Crown. The Valley was originally part of Iroquois territory. It was also part of a land grant made by Charles II to the Province of Connecticut. That’s clear. It’s also clear that several years later, Charles was anxious to settle his financial affairs with William Penn and presented him with the Province of Pennsylvania. Penn’s grant also included the Wyoming Valley. It was an oversight, I’m sure, that the valley was part of both grants. The pastoral, peaceful valley would not stay that way as it became the focus of confrontation between Connecticut and Pennsylvania.

For their part, the Iroquois sensed opportunity. After the French and Indian War, they sold their claim to the Wyoming Valley to both Connecticut and Pennsylvania, pocketing the sale price twice. Yet when Connecticut sent 200 settlers, they were attacked by the Native Americans and driven out, leaving twenty dead. This led to what’s known as the Pennamite Wars, as competing groups of settlers and Native Americans fought over the same lands. A champion of the Pennsylvania claims was Lazarus Stewart, a one-time captain of a group called the Paxton Boys during the French and Indian War. They fancied themselves a militia. The reality was that they were little more than a mob…angry, drunken, and armed. A bad combination. Their singular contribution to the French and Indian War was to murder a group of about twenty unarmed Conestoga Indians, whom the Paxton Boys decided were in league with the Seneca, who were raiding the frontier. Though Governor John Penn offered a substantial reward for the capture of the ringleaders involved in the massacre, none were ever identified. Many of the residents expressed sympathy towards the Paxton Boys, and no arrests were ever made. Stewart would return to bloody the pages of history again.

The conflict in the Valley continued. Both sides constructed a series of forts, stockades and blockhouses along both banks of the Susquehanna. These covered what is now Wilkes-Barre and Pittston on the east bank and Kingston, Forty Fort, Wyoming and Exeter on the west side. Forty Fort, PA is named for one of those forts… the fort named for a group of forty settlers from Connecticut. The conflict also formed a large militia. By the time the Revolution came around, 1,000 men were enlisted. And while they might favour CT or PA, they were mostly patriots. Supporters of the Crown had mostly left to join the Royal Greens, a loyalist regiment organized by Sir Guy Johnson of New York. When independence was declared, about half the militia went off to join General Washington’s new Continental Army. They made up most of the able-bodied men. The half left behind were mostly elderly or boys… and Lazarus Stewart.

By the spring of 1778, after the embarrassing defeat at Saratoga, Tory forces of the Royal Greens and a group called John Butler’s Rangers were itching for retaliation. Butler and Seneca chiefs Sayenqueraghta and Cornplanter met at the Indian village of Tioga, New York, in early June 1778. It was decided that Butler (along with his rangers and the Royal Greens) and the Senecas would attack the Wyoming Valley. They descended the Susquehanna in boats and canoes to the mouth of Bowman’s Creek, where the river sweeps in a great bend. By marching across this peninsula, they traveled about twenty miles to the western mountains overlooking the valley. They established camp on the high grounds with a sweeping view of the river and all the Wyoming settlements. The next day, June 28th, native and ranger scouts returned with four scalps and three prisoners, taken from the fields surrounding the Exeter Grist Mill. One, a boy named John Harding, escaped by lying hidden among the willows with his mouth just above the water. Word of Butler’s presence quickly spread throughout the valley. According to Richard McGinnis, a loyalist carpenter with Major John Butler’s Tory forces, “the Savages burnt the mill and took 3 prisoners, two white men and a Negro whom they afterward murdered in their own camp.”

By chance, a small number of "regulars" were home on furlough, including a regular-army officer, Col. Zebulon Butler (not to be confused with Major John Butler, who commanded the British forces). When word arrived by scouts sent out by Butler and militia colonel Nathan Denison that “about fifty canoe loads of enemy,” large parties of loyalists and their Native American allies, had gathered on each side of the river, the alarm was sounded, and settlers rushed to the stockades for protection. Colonel Zebulon Butler took command of the American militia that gathered at Forty Fort across the river from Wilkes-Barre. On July 1st, Zebulon Butler received word of the attack at the mill and sent Col. Denison with all his force to Exeter. They found two Iroquois standing guard over the scalped and mutilated bodies of their victims. These were shot dead—one where he sat and the other as he was in the river, fleeing to get away. They buried the dead at and returned to Forty fort.

Early on July 2nd, a British delegation approached Forty Fort and demanded not only the surrender of Forty Fort, but of all the fortifications on both sides of the river. Reportedly, militiaman Colonel Lazarus Stewart, speaking on his own authority, said “that he would never give it over to Tories and savages but stand it out to the last and defend it to the last extremity.” The next morning, Friday, July 3, a delegation was again sent, delivering the same demand of surrender. Colonel Butler called an immediate council of war. He, along with Colonel Nathan Denison and Lt. Colonel George Dorrance, cautioned against sallying from their defenses to attack what he believed to be a far superior enemy. They favored a delay, pointing out that reinforcements had been sent for. Colonel Butler was shouted down and called a coward by a zealous group, led by now-Colonel Lazarus Stewart. Stewart still had respect among Wyoming’s militia, particularly the younger men. He threatened to disobey Butler and lead all who would follow him against the British and their native allies. Based on the slaughter of the workers at Exeter Mill, he and others argued that once the forts were captured, the inhabitants would be murdered and their homes put to the torch. Colonel Butler gave in, and by mid-afternoon on July 3rd, 1778, the militia assembled and marched to battle.

It was a trap.

Between 375 and 400 militiamen left Fort Forty and advanced north towards the enemy. They proceeded up what is now Wyoming Avenue and stopped at a bridge that crossed Abraham’s Creek. Here, one Thomas Bennet declared that they were “marching into a snare and that they would be destroyed.” Reportedly, Bennet and a few others turned back at Abraham’s Creek and returned to the fort. The rest hurried north. It was reported that the British were retiring. They halted again at Swetland’s Hill. Colonel Butler ordered a halt. He wanted to hold the line with a possible return to the fort to await confirmation of the enemy’s withdrawal. However, it was too late to halt the passions of the inexperienced militia. They insisted on chasing the enemy from their valley, led by Stewart’s demands that they press on. Again, Butler relinquished and they marched further north, arriving at Exeter Flats around 4 PM - about a mile from the enemy, where they would face their destiny. The battlefield would soon become a bloodbath, one that included the brash Stewart.

It was now 4 PM, and the weather was hot and sultry when the two forces met. There are two versions of what happened. Earlier reports state that the loyalists and Native Americans engaged the militiamen openly as they approached and continued a heated firefight from the opening shots. As the Americans advanced on the enemy, Col. Butler ordered his militiamen to fire, and at each discharge, to advance a few steps. Along the whole line, the discharges were rapid and steady. As they advanced, they poured in their fires, forcing the British line to give way. The Native Americans on the right kept up a galling fire from their hiding place in the woods. For half an hour, a hot fire had been given and sustained, when the superior numbers of the British forces began to develop their power. The Native Americans began to flank the American left, throwing that wing into confusion. Col. Denison gave orders that the leftmost company should wheel back, so as to form an angle with the main line, thus presenting their front, rather than the flank, to the enemy. The difficulty of performing something only professional veterans would venture proved fatal to militiamen facing their first trial under fire. On the attempt, many thought the order to wheel left meant a general retreat. The entire left line did so, allowing the native allies to rush in. It was utter confusion now on the left as the entire American line caved in, the keening war cries of the Seneca mixing with the screams of the dying.

Another version seems more likely. The British delayed firing, allowing the Americans to fall prey to an ambush. Marching forward, guns ready, the Americans fired their first volley at two hundred yards, hurting no one. They advanced a few paces, reloaded and fired again with the same result. The rangers and Indians continued to lie still without returning fire. By the time the Americans were about 50 yards from Butler’s forces, they had fired three or four volleys. It was then that Sayenqueraghta, the Seneca war chief, gave the signal for the Indians to fire, and the rangers followed suit. At such close range, that volley scythed through the American ranks. The Indians closed in around their flanks. An attempt by the American left wing to fall back to a better position was taken by others as a signal for a general retreat, resulting in a rout. Overpowered and unprepared, the militiamen panicked, dropped their guns, and fled in all directions.

Whichever version is true, what is certain is that the battle, such as it was, was over in twenty minutes. The slaughter, however, continued. The Native Americans and Rangers were merciless in their pursuit of the militiamen. Each man for himself, the farmers were chased down and shot, tomahawked, or had their brains bashed in with war clubs and battle hammers. Many scalps were taken as the warriors and rangers collected bounty payments upon their return to Fort Niagara. Few militiamen would escape. The British collected their forces and by nightfall, advanced to Forty Fort.

Of the nearly four hundred militiamen who took the field, only sixty at most were to escape the carnage, including Colonels Zebulon Butler and Denison, to find their way back to Forty Fort. The Loyalists and Iroquois killed almost all who were captured, and only five prisoners were taken alive. Butler reported that his Indian allies had taken 227 scalps. This single action had nearly wiped out every male patriot in the entire Wyoming Valley region. Colonel Zebulon Butler, after having vacillated on attacking and running from the field, continued his flight. The night of July 3rd, after having escaped to Fort Forty, he and seventeen of his soldiers abandoned the inhabitants and escaped to the mountains. Colonel Denison took command of the fort and what was left of the Wyoming militia. He had to defend the fort with only a few aged men, some young boys, and a small number of wounded. The rest were women and children; most, if not all, having lost husbands, sons and fathers.

On the morning of the 4th, the British approached the fort and demanded an unconditional surrender. Butler offered honorable terms of capitulation. If the garrison and region agreed to take a pledge to never again take up arms against the King of England, he guaranteed that no harm would come to any woman or child or anyone not bearing arms. He further included respecting private property, assuring that his men would not loot or destroy dwellings. Denison had no choice but to accept. He agreed to surrender Forty Fort and two other posts, along with what remained of his militia. Butler paroled them on their promise to take no part in further hostilities. Major Butler spared non-combatants, but not their homes. He wrote: “But what gives me the sincerest satisfaction is that I can, with great truth, assure you that in the destruction of the settlement not a single person was hurt except such as were in arms, to these, in truth, the Indians gave no quarter.”

British Major Butler, for the most part, kept his promise not to allow his forces to molest those who remained in the Valley. Counter to exaggerated claims made in newspaper accounts of the battle and aftermath, there was little loss of innocent human life. However, private property was another matter. Butler’s guarantee to spare the settlers’ homes was an empty promise or perhaps a ruse. The valley was devastated. Homes and villages were torched. Property was pilfered and livestock slaughtered. Later, in a report to Lieutenant Colonel Mason Bolton, British commander at Fort Niagara, dated July 8th, Butler appeared to boast that eight palisaded forts were destroyed, along with all the mills, and about a thousand homes. In addition, he reported that a thousand head of cattle had been killed or driven off, as well as a great number of sheep and swine. McGinnis confirmed this writing that, “My heart was affected for the women and children, who came after us, crying and beseeching us that we would leave them a few cows, and we told them it was against the orders of Colonel Butler…” Shortly afterwards, Major Butler called his army together and took up his return march northward to Fort Niagara.