Cornplanter's Cave
BY HAROLD THOMAS BECK
The Warriors returned north to their homes on
the Allegheny. They were full of themselves and their victories over the rebels. Unlike
Brant and a significantly smaller number of Mohawk and Onondaga, the Seneca did not have
Sir Guy waiting to give them and their families presents from a grateful King.
Cornplanter, unlike Sayengaraghta who was also Seneca, did not have a hundred pound a year
pension. Cornplanter was not supplied British rations. He was not even supplied powder.
Cornplanter took powder and muskets from a now well supplied Continental Army when he ran
low.
The alliance with France was good for Washington and his army. The French navy,
supplemented by the small American navy, and an array of multi–national privateers,
preyed on British supply ships. Supplies destined for Savannah (now the main British port
in America) invariably wound up in Boston, New York or Philadelphia after being captured
on the high seas. Those, plus what a generous French King sent, bolstered sagging morale
and empty warehouses. The tide of war had changed.
No one bothered to tell Cornplanter. He had been actively winning his war as were the
rest of the Indians in New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio. The frontier in New York was in a
state of abandon. Over 1,200 farms were reported to be uncultivated in Tryon County alone.
It was reported that 354 families had left the county in addition to those who had been
killed by the Indians. Places like Cherry Valley, Springfield and Harpersfield were near
ghost towns. The Mohawk valley was totally deserted and now Schenectady became the edge of
the frontier.
Pennsylvania, with the exception of Pittsburgh and the eastern most part was desolate.
It was estimated that in 1780 alone, close to 3,000 scalps had been taken. The garrison at
Fort Pitt grew all the time in spite of this. Washington had begun listening to Lafayette
when he advised to hold the cities and slowly expand outward. This became his strategy and
as 1781 began, one out of every four troops in the Army was sent to the western and
northern frontiers.
Cornplanter hadn’t studied the art of warfare in a European military school. He
didn’t have the luxury of a Marquis de Lafayette or a General Braddock to advise him
or act as a mentor. He only fought on battlefields against all who chose to be his enemy
from the time he was 16 years old. Now, as he approached his forty–eighth year and
winter took its hold on the land of the Seneca, he questioned himself and his purpose.
Granted, he knew his purpose was the survival of his people, his family and himself.
Still, he searched for more. He had seen his life change with each new year. More of white
men came in spite of the best efforts of the bravest men he had ever known. Each year war
managed to take more of his closest friends until finally he felt totally alone. He was
weary of long–winded war councils and bold talk by men who had never proven
themselves in battle.
As the moon waned at the end of December, Cornplanter crossed the frozen Allegheny and
took refuge in his cave. He had several caves to which he would go when he felt the need
to be totally alone. There was one that he had discovered while he hunted with uncle years
before. He was no more than 13 at the time. As he climbed the side of a tall hill that
stood on the western side of the river a small opening appeared before him. A trail of
blood from the deer he had shot led into the opening. He feared entering the darkness of
the cave but Guyasohta (Cornplanter’s mother’s brother often known as Kiasutha)
rebuked him at his fear of the dark and the unknown.
"If you are to be a leader of our people," his uncle told him, "Your
fears must be put aside. You must judge what is best for your people. They must come
before you and even your own family. The rewards of leadership give you first claim to the
spoils of war. The price is that everyone else must be placed first in order for you to
attain that victory."
Even at that young age Cornplanter recognized a basic need of his people was food.
Setting aside his fear he entered the cave and the darkness with a drawn knife and
hatchet. The animal, dying, was against a wall in the back of the cave. Cornplanter
crawled on all fours following the sounds of the deer trying to suck air into its lungs.
Periodically the animal kicked out with its fore and rear legs. As it did one time the
young man was kicked by one of the sharp hooves and thrown back. As he recovered he lunged
on the animal and cut its throat. Moments later his uncle entered the cave with a torch.
As the fire lit the darkness a new and secret world was opened to a young man who would
grow and lead his people.
The walls of the cave were painted with figures of hunters doing battle with huge
bears. A large cat, resembling a panther with fangs, was in one such painting pictured on
the back of an enormous elk. Blood was falling from the elk and several armed warriors
were depicted in the background watching the kill. Ironically, the deer Cornplanter had
just killed was laying beneath that painting.
The cave consisted of three chambers all large enough for a man to stand erect and
still be unable to touch the rock ceiling. The first chamber, where the deer was killed,
was covered with paintings. It opened to a second where a stone fire pit was in the
center. There were beds of straw, six of them, against the walls around the
stone–lined pit. Each bed was also lined with large stones so the straw would stay in
place. Finally, in the third chamber, there was a clear pond. Water came out of the wall
and ran down the multi–colored stone into a pond that was four feet in its deepest
point. The water was crystal clear and large trout that had no eyes swam around. Plants
grew on the bottom of the pond which were evidently the source of their nourishment along
with the smaller fish that appeared and disappeared like clouds in the water. There was no
visible outlet for the water so it had to be assumed that it had a spot where it
re–entered the ground to emerge on the mountainside as a spring flowing down to the
river.
"Uncle," Cornplanter said as he stood at the pool’s edge. "Who
belongs to this place?"
"You, from this day on because it was you who has found it," the man
answered.
"Who did it once belong to?" he asked.
"The Erie," he said.
"What became of them?" the young man asked.
The fate of the Erie Indians was not spoken of around the fires of the Iroquois
peoples. The other five nations did not speak of it because they feared reprisals from the
Seneca. The Seneca did not speak of it because of the shame it brought to them. Guyasohta,
recognizing his nephew would be a chief one day, told the story to the young man.
He told him that the lands of the Kenjua Flats, the Conewango and the Brokenstraw were
that of the Erie Nation. They were a peaceful people who farmed, fished and hunted. They
paid tribute to the Seneca for protection from the Shawnee and the Miami who lived to the
west and coveted their rich lands. Once a year at the time of harvest the Chief of the
Seneca would travel down the river from Teshanushagoghta (Cold Spring) to collect his
tribute. Corn, potatoes, beans, squash, fruits, fish and game would be arrayed for the
chief to choose from. He was given first choice of everything and by agreement was
entitled to a third. This tradition was hundreds of years old and any breach of the
agreement would be humiliating to the mighty Seneca. However, on one occasion a dispute
arose between the wives of the two chiefs. The wife of the Seneca chief saw some of the
handiwork of the Erie women. She asserted to her husband that the agreement should include
not only fish, game and the harvest, but also the handiwork of the Erie women.
At first the chief would not hear of it but the woman continued to insist. Finally the
chief in taking his rightful third of an ample harvest insisted on the work of the women
also. Rightfully the Erie chief asserted that the ancient agreement did not include such
items. In doing so the Seneca Chief felt humiliated by the chief who was lesser in
stature. He returned to his town and remained angry for several weeks. Finally, in
frustration, he gathered all of his warriors together. They traveled down the river and
attacked the Erie in their towns. They took no captives and allowed no one to escape.
Every man, woman, and child was put to the hatchet. Their bodies were not buried but left
where they fell. The last of the Erie tried to escape to the west. Along present day U.S.
Route 6 east of Corry, Pa., they were overtaken and murdered.
Word spread throughout Ohio, New York and Pennsylvania of the atrocity. Iroquois chiefs
met beneath the tree of peace and demanded the Seneca Chief explain his actions. When his
explanation was unacceptable, he and his family were banished from the lands of the Six
Nations. There was a division over this action but in the following year there was no rain
and the elders of the Six Nations blamed the dastardly deed of the Seneca. The drought
lasted nearly three years and everywhere the shame of the Seneca was spoken of as the
cause. The remains of the Erie were finally taken up by the Seneca women and carried to a
place atop a hill near Tionesta. Facing to the south the remains of nearly 1,000 were
placed in three burial mounds. The rains finally returned when the Erie were laid to rest.
Cornplanter never forgot the first time he came to the cave. At the instruction of
Guyasohta he told no one of this place. He kept it as his own to come to and contemplate
whenever the load of leadership became too much. As he sat alone in his cave he thought
once more of the survival of his people. He could not help thinking of his people as the
peaceful Erie and now the whites as the greedy Seneca. If the Erie chief had allowed the
agreement to be changed, would it have allowed his people to continue to live on their
lands? Would it have saved them from the wrath of the Seneca hatchets? Cornplanter
considered all of that as he sat alone in the cave that overlooked the valley of the
Allegheny. He knew the might of the white man and realized their numbers would increase as
his people would diminish. As he lost warriors there was no one to take that place. The
whites replaced every one with three. Cornplanter sat and wondered what to do.
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