A Biographical Sketch of
EPHRAIM WEBSTER
First White Person who made a permanent settlement in Onondaga County
From Onondaga; or Reminiscences of Earlier and Later Times, Vol. 1, by Joshua V. H. Clark, A.M., Stoddard and Babcock, Syracuse, N.Y., 1849, pp. 337-348
Click here for picture of Ephraim Webster's home, from Pioneer Times in the Onondaga Country, by Carroll E. Smith, LL.D., C. W. Bardeen, Publisher, Syracuse, NY, 1904, pg. 57
He was present at the great council, held at Fort Stanwix, in 1784, at which a treaty was made between the Six Nations and the United States. At this council, the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas and Senecas were represented. But the Senecas were slow in coming forward, and Webster was dispatched for them. His message, it is said, ran thus: "The great council of the thirteen fives has been a long time kindled - four of the great Indian nations, have laid fuel on the fire - the great pot is already boiling, and the pottage cannot be cooked (business cannot proceed) unless their brethren, the Senecas, are present. They are desired to make haste."
He remained two years at Oriskany, and during that time made several excursions with the Indian hunters to Onondaga. Webster became intimate, and quite a favorite with his new neighbors, the Onondagas, who invited him to come out and trade with them. The invitation was cheerfully accepted. Accordingly in the spring of 1786, he came to Onondaga, in company with a Scotchman, named Selkirk, with a small boat load of goods, brought from Schenectady by water. They erected a temporary trading house on the east bank of the Onondaga creek, near where it empties into the lake, and there exposed their stock of goods for sale. This spot is still pointed out by the Indians as Webster's camp. At the close of the season, they had acquired a rich pack of furs.* With these, Webster proceeded to New-York. The following spring he came out alone, but was followed by two other traders, whose names were Campbell and Maibee. They proceeded up the creek, to the Onondaga Hollow. Webster traded at his old location, and all departed again in autumn to make sale of their furs. He pursued this course for several years, but from this time made it a point to winter with his new friends.
During the controversy with the western Indians, which so soon followed the revolutionary war, between the years 1788 and 1794, he was, on account of his knowledge of Indian manners and language, employed to gain intelligence in the vicinity of the Miamis. He was fully successful in his mission, reported to the satisfaction of those by whom he was employed, and received a suitable reward. He was often with the Onondagas at Oswego, while the fort was retained by the British, and was, by the officers of the garrison, supposed to be a full-blood Indian, so completed was he usually disguised. From some cause or other, at one time they mistrusted he was a white man, and charged him with being a spy. In order to induce him to declare his real character, or to expose himself in some way, they plied him freely with strong liquor, and then used every device to effect their purpose. They awakened him suddenly from sleep, saluted him familiarly in the English language, of which he expressed entire ignorance; being always guarded and prepared, they gained no advantage over him, and he left them as much in the dark as when they commenced.
During the early part of his sojourn with the Indians, they granted to him a mile square of land in the most fertile part of the Hollow, west of the creek, and south of the road. He lived with an Indian woman, after the Indian custom. This lot of land, containing six hundred and forty acres, was finally grated to Webster, "as a free and voluntary gift," on the part of the people of the State of New-York, by the Legislature in 1795, and the commissioners of Indian lands, consisting of Philip Schuyler, John Cantine, John Richardson and David Brooks, were directed to execute a deed therefor, on the part, and in the name of the people of the State of New-York.
After the death of his Indian woman, which happened soon after this grant by the State, he married a white woman of the name of Danks, of very respectable connections, by whom he had a family of sons and daughters, several of whom are now living in the Onondaga valley.
He was in the service of the United States, in the war of 1812, with
La Fort, an Onondaga chief, and some three hundred of his warriors, on
the Niagara frontier. At that time he held a Captain's commission
in the militia of the State of New-York, and wielded a salutary influence
over the Indians. He was at the battle of Chippewa, and acted as
interpreter in the transmission of orders from General Brown to Hoh-a-ho-a-qua,
the Captain of the Six Nations, on this occasion. The action commenced
on the bank of the river, between a part of British Indians and American
militia. The British Indians were in full view, and the Onondagas
were ordered to make a circuit through the woods and open a fire upon the
British right flank. In this they succeeded beyond their expectation.
They stole stealthily along the woods and gave the Canadian Indians a shot,
upon which they dispersed in all directions, and were closely pursued by
our Indians. After this there was no such thing as order among the
Indians, during the remainder of the day. If a Canada Indian came
in sight, he was immediately followed and hunted down. In the early
part of the action, Captain Webster gave his gun to an Onondaga, who had
none, and during a part of the battle was without one. At length
he was supplied, taking one from the hand of a wounded solider.
Hoh-a-ho-a-que was mortally wounded, during the hottest of the
fight. Captain Webster went to his aid, raised his head in his arms,
and asked him if he was badly wounded. The chief replied, "very bad"
- "I died Captain of the Six Nations; I have done my duty;" and expired
without a groan. Towards the close of the action, Captain Webster
found himself alone, and passed from the woods to the open field.
He soon saw Doxtator, an Oneida chief, pursued by five or six mounted Wyandots.
They passed near him, and knowing well the Indian rules of warfare, he
stood erect and firm, looking them full in the face; they passed him unharmed.
Doxtator was shot just as he leaped a fence near by, upon which the Wyandots
wheeled and rode off. In this engagement, the Onondagas lost six,
besides their leader.
Mr. Webster was for a great number of years Indian Agent and interpreter for the Onondagas. For several years he held by lease from the Indians, three hundred acres of land, the title of which was afterwards confirmed to him and his heirs by the State Legislature. He enjoyed the perfect confidence of the Indians and whites, and several distinguished gentlemen have given him, on different occasions, exalted evidences of their esteem and confidence. He has been often heard to speak of his wanderings among the Indians, as the happiest days of his life. He was a man, kind, social, and obliging, mild in disposition, of excellent character, and on the whole a very remarkable man. He held the offices of Justice of the Peace and supervisor of the town of Onondaga for a number of years; a Justice first in 1805, and the first Supervisor of Onondaga, 1788. He was largely engaged in the ginseng trade with a gentleman of Boston, and was the only man who had influence enough with the Indians to engage them to dig it. Mr. Webster had acquired the art of manufacturing or preparing this tuberous root for market, in such a manner as to make it semi-transparent, and at this time it was an article of commerce, carried on mostly with China. It is called by the Indians garentoquen, which signifies with legs separated, from the frequent divided form of the root. Since the death of Mr. Webster, the digging and traffic have been discontinued with the Onondagas. The name ginseng is said to be of Chinese origin. With that people it was considered a great medicinal panacea, being a highly mucilaginous sweetness, not unlike liquorice accompanied with a slight bitterness - the Panax trifolium of Botanists.
Mr. Webster died at Tuscarora, in 1825, at the advanced age of seventy-two years, much lamented by the Indians and a large circle of friends. He was buried at Onondaga.
Many interesting anecdotes were related by Mr. Webster, of circumstances which occurred during his early intercourse with the Indians, some of which are singularly illustrative of Indian character, and from their exhibiting in an elevated manner the virtues of fortitude, fidelity, gratitude and honor, as once understood and appreciated by the Indians, may not be wholly uninteresting here.
It sometimes happened that the Indians, either from fancied or real
wrongs, would become offended with Webster, and even go so far as to threaten
his life, and make the most alarming demonstrations towards taking it.
At one time they tied him to a tree, and there amused themselves by throwing
a tomahawk at the tree to which he was tied, to see how near they could
come to his head and not hit it. Sometimes the whistling missile
would graze his hair. The sport was kept up for more than half an
hour, during which Webster neither flinched nor moved a muscle, a circumstance
greatly admired by the Indians, who usually have a contemptible notion
of the white man's fortitude. After they became tired of the sport,
they liberated him with shouts of exultation.
In the early part of the intercourse of Mr. Webster with the Onondagas,
he had occasion to go on business for the Natives to Canada. On his
return, he employed a young brave of the Onondagas below Oswego, to pilot
him through the woods to Onondaga. While on the route, he observed
that the Indian felt sad and gloomy, as if something weighed heavy on his
mind. In vain he tried to arouse him from his cold and frigid humor.
Webster's faculties of cheering and amusement were exhausted, without a
relaxation of gravity or sadness on the part of the Indian. At length
Webster accosted him with a tone of anxiety, inquiring what could be the
matter. Upon which he answered, "Me going to die." Webster
thinking it only a whim of the Indian, refrained from further conversation.
They trudged silently along and in due time approached the castle.
They had arrived there but a short time, when six Indians of the Cayuga
nation made their appearance, and without one word, or the least ceremony,
one of them walked up to the Onondaga and with an axe cleft his skull.
In a moment the blow was followed by another of the party, and the young
man was no more. The Cayugas retired as if nothing had happened.
The Onondagas lamented their brother, and there were injured ones ready
to avenge his death. It seems there had for a long time been a family
feud between a portion of the Onondagas and some Cayugas, and this was
continued by a succession of murders for several years. This young
man, so unceremoniously slain, had been engaged in the murder of a Cayuga,
and these Cayugas, on the watch, had caught a glimpse of him, and he had
seem the track of the Cayugas across his path, which produced the sadness
upon his countenance. But to retrace his steps would have betrayed
cowardice, a feeling which an Indian in his own free, uncontaminated state,
knows nothing of.
An Indian chief who was known as Capt. John, and who was a man of influence among the Onondagas, who lived to a great age, and who was greatly beloved by the whites, and uniformly tender and kind in his disposition, exhibits an instances of the most savage barbarity, illustrating in a remarkable manner, the sweetness of revenge to the savage. During the old French war, a French officer wantonly killed a little girl belonging to the Ta-whis-kon-ta, (Spring-the-trap, or Capt. John.) The murderer of the innocent child, was discovered by the chief, who instantly set his mark upon him, and for several years visited Canada for the purpose of obtaining revenge. Long and patiently he waited for an opportunity to avenge the blood of his child, by the blood of its murderer, but no opportunity presented itself in the person of the murderer. At length he caught sight of a child of the Frenchman's who was innocently at play near the house of her parent, rushed upon her, buried his tomahawk in her skull, and dragged the body into the woods. Here the monster stripped the corpse of its clothing, divested it of its skin, leaving it to decay, or become a prey to swine or wild beasts. Capt. John kept this skin hung up a long time in his cabin, as a trophy of his vegenance and ferocity, and often feasted his eyes upon it with joy, exulting in the murder of the innocent child as a worthy deed.
In 1806, was a time of great sickness among the Onondaga Indians. Capt. John, feeling that his end was approaching, strayed to the west side of the lake, nearly opposite to Liverpool, and died in the bushes. The latter part of summer and autumn of that year was unusually cold. The crops of corn were entirely cut off by early frost. In this dilemma, the Indians called a council to inquire why the Great Spirit should inflict so great a calamity upon them. After due deliberation it was decided that it was because Capt. John lay cold, and the white people were solicited to turn out and bury him, which they did on the spot where he expired.
There was a place near the first gate on the plank road, north of Salina,
formerly known as Capt. John's bear trap, a spot where he had been accustomed
to bait and trap those animals.
During the sojourn of Mr. Webster among the Indians, he was often in
peril of his life, and frequently threatened with immediate death, occasioned
by the strange fancies of those by whom he was surrounded. But Providence
seemed always to interpose in his behalf, and upon on occasion in rather
a remarkable manner. It seems that for some real or fancied wrong
which he had committed, he was judge worthy of death. So determined
were the Indians to accomplish his destruction that he gave up all for
lost, and fully made up his mind that his time had come. His grave
was dug and he was told to prepare for immediate death. A large ring
was formed around him. His executioners, four in number, were appointed,
and their positions taken; four glittering tomahawks gleamed in the sun-light
as they leapt from the warriors belts. A sturdy brave was placed
at each side firmly holding each hand, stretching his arms in a horizontal
manner to their utmost extent. The fatal blow was about to be struck.
It was asked him (as is the custom) if he had any request to make before
he expired. He said he only desired a cooling draught of water.
"None, none, none," exclaimed several voices at once. He appealed
to them in affecting tones, requesting them in the most supplicating manner
not to deny a dying friend this last simple request. The venerable
war chief, Oun-di-a-ga, stood forth, while the ready weapons were poised
over his naked head. "Hold," said he, "stay your hands, offend not
the Great Spirit. Let him drink one cup of water for the last time."
The cup was accordingly presented to him; one hand was released from the
Indian who held it. Webster took the cup, gracefully bowed his head,
and most cordially drank to the health of the chiefs and brave warriors
of the Onondaga nation.
This maneuver was so unexpected, so appropriate, and done with so much grace and aboriginal naiveté; so respectfully, and with so much coolness and gravity of demeanor, that with one voice they shouted, "he is free," "let him go," "he is one of us," and was instantly released. The Indians returned quietly to their homes, conducting him with them, ever after which he was treated with the greatest kindness, and none molested him or made him afraid.
Soon after Mr. Webster had located himself at Onondaga, a young brave of the Cayuga nation, one morning presented himself before the chiefs of the Onondagas and Mr. Webster, while sitting at the door of the council-house. The young man said, "i have come to dwell among you and your people if you will permit. I have left forever the home of my father and the hearth of my mother. I seek a home with you; my name is Mantinoah, deny me not." The most aged chief, Ka-whick-do-ta, answered him, "Mantinoah, you are welcome here, sit you down with us. Be our son, we will be to you a father; you can hunt and fish with our young men, and tread the war path with the braves of our nation; you shall be honored as you deserve." Near two years passed around and Mantinoah was apparently contented and happy, always foremost in the chase, most active in the dance, and loudest in the song. Between Mantinoah and Webster, a bond of firmest friendship was formed. When Webster climbed the hill, Mantinoah was his companion. When Mantinoah watched the midnight moon, Webster whispered friendship in his ear. Their eyes caught the first glimmering of the rising sun together, and its last parting gleam, as it sunk below the western horizon, departed from both their visions at the same time. Mantinoah said to his friend one morning, "I must soon leave your peaceful valley forever. I go towards the setting sun; I have a vow to perform. My nation and my friends know Mantinoah will be true. My friend, I desire you to go with me." Webster consented. Preparation was made for the journey. The left the Onondaga Valley together. Mantinoah looked upon it for the last time. After a walk of three or four days, taking their journey leisurely, hunting and fishing by the way, they arrived at an eminence near Mantinoah's village. "Here," said Mantinoah, "let us rest - let us here invoke the Great Spirit to grant us strength to pass triumphantly through the scenes of this day. Here," he said, "we will eat, and here, for the last time, will smoke the pipe of peace and friendship together." After a repast of broiled venison and bread, the pipe was passed from one to the other in regular succession. "Now," said Mantinoah to his friend, " a little more than two years have elapsed since in my native village near to us, in a burst of passion, I slew my bosom friend and chosen companion. The chiefs of my nation declared me guilty on my friend's blood, and decreed I must suffer death. It was then I sought your nation. It was then I won your friendship. The nearest of kin to him I slew, according to our customs, was to become my executioner. My execution was deferred for two full years, during which time I was condemned to banishment from my nation. I vowed to return.
The term of two full years expires this day, when the setting sun sinks behind the topmost branch of yonder tree. Beneath the broad branches of this venerable oak, where we now stand, as the foot of this ancient rock, against which I now lean, I stand prepared to receive my doom. My friend, we have had many a cheerful sport together; our joys have not been circumscribed; our griefs have been few; look not so sad now, but let new joys arouse you to happiness. When you return to the Onondagas, bear witness, that Mantinoah died like a true brave of the Cayugas; that he trembled not at the approach of death, like the coward pale-face, nor shed tears like a woman. My friend, take my belt, my knife, my hunting pouch, my horn and rifle; accept them as mementos of our friendship; I shall need them no longer; a few moments and the avenger will be here; the Great Spirit calls, I am ready; Mantinoah fears not to die; farewell." Webster firmly remonstrates against his determination. In vain he urges him to escape the consequences. A short silence ensues; a yell is heard in the distance. Mantinoah responds. A single Indian approaches, and takes Mantinoah by the hand. He, too, has been his early friend; but the laws of the savage cannot be broken. After mutual salutations and expressions of kindness, the avenger addressed him: Mantinoah, you have slain my brother; our laws declare me his avenger, and your executioner. Your time is come; death is at hand, prepare to meet him. Be steadfast, be firm; and may the Great Spirit sustain you. Upon this, Mantinoah gracefully elevated his manly form, carefully bared his broad bosom, calmly laid his arms across his manly breast; not a muscle moved, not a breath was heard. There he stood, ready for the voluntary sacrifice, immovable as adamant. Accompanied by a deafening yell, the bright tomahawk of the avenger glittered in the fading light; its keen edge sank deep into the brain of the victim. THe thirsty earth crank the life blood of Mantinoah, and he sank without a groan, a lifeless corpse before his friend. Instantly, as if by magic, a host of savages appeared, the mournful song of death reechoed through the forest, the gloomy dance for the dead moved in melancholy solemnity around the corpse of the departed; the low, guttural moan peculiar to the savage, murmured through the trees, and all was still. They silently surveyed the scene; when slowly, in groups, in paris, and singly, the witnesses of this thrilling scene retired.
The feelings of Mr. Webster on this occasion, may be more easily imagined
than they can possibly be described. Immediately after the tragic
event of which we have spoken, the Indians most cordially invited Mr. Webster
to their village, gave him the most solemn assurances of perfect safety
and protection, very hospitably entertained him for a few days and when
ready to return, a party of Cayugas conducted him to his home. However
much the foregoing may appear like fiction, it is nevertheless true.
The facts have often been related by Mr. Webster while living, to many
old inhabitants and first settlers in the vicinity, who will yet bear witness
to its authenticity.
FOOTNOTE:
*About the time of closing up the fall trade, Selkirk was taken sick, died and was buried somewhere on the bank of the lake, not far distant from their trading house.
Home of Ephraim Webster, on farm given him by the state, Onondaga Valley
picture taken from Pioneer Times in the Onondaga Country,
by Carroll E. Smith, LL.D., C. W. Bardeen, Publisher, Syracuse, NY, 1904, pg. 57
Information on Ephraim Webster from Onondaga's Centennial, by Dwight H. Bruce, Boston History Co., 1896, Vol. I.
Updated 22 August 1998