This Day in Goodlove History, June 5

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This Day in Goodlove History, June 5
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Jeff Goodlove email address: Jefferygoodlove@aol.com
Surnames associated with the name Goodlove have been spelled the following different ways; Cutliff, Cutloaf, Cutlofe, Cutloff, Cutlove, Cutlow, Godlib, Godlof, Godlop, Godlove, Goodfriend, Goodlove, Gotleb, Gotlib, Gotlibowicz, Gotlibs, Gotlieb, Gotlob, Gotlobe, Gotloeb, Gotthilf, Gottlieb, Gottliebova, Gottlob, Gottlober, Gottlow, Gutfrajnd, Gutleben, Gutlove

The Chronology of the Goodlove, Godlove, Gottlob, Gottlober, Gottlieb (Germany, Russia, Czech etc.), and Allied Families of Battaile, (France), Crawford (Scotland), Harrison (England), Jackson (Ireland), LeClere (France), Lefevre (France), McKinnon (Scotland), Plantagenets (England), Smith (England), Stephenson (England?), Vance (Ireland from Normandy), Washington, Winch (England, traditionally Wales), including correspondence with George Rogers Clark, Thomas Jefferson, and ancestors William Henry Harrison, Andrew Jackson and George Washington.
The Goodlove Family History Website:
http://familytreemaker.genealogy.com/users/g/o/o/Jeffery-Goodlove/index.html
The Goodlove/Godlove/Gottlieb families and their connection to the Cohenim/Surname project:

• New Address! http://www.familytreedna.com/public/goodlove/default.aspxy



June 587 B.C.

In June 587 B.C. Ezekiel prophesied the destruction of Egypt. Ezekiel 31:1-18.[1]



June 5, 70: Titus and his Roman legions breach the middle wall of Jerusalem.[2]

June 5, 1257: Kraków, Poland receives city rights. Jews were probably among the earliest settlers of Krakow which was settled by traders from Germany. Jews had been moving to Poland from Germany since the days of the Crusades. Certainly there was a Jewish population in the town by the middle of the 14th century since the oldest synagogue in the town dates from a visit from Casimir the Great.[3]



1258 Volcano, ice core event, tropics; 200 to 800 cubic kilometers (48.0 to 191.9 cu mi) of tephra[18][4] Salisbury Cathedral completed, Manifred, illegitimate son of Frederick II crowned King of Sicily at Palermo, Mongols take Baghdad and overthrow caliphate, establishment of House of Commons (Provisions of Oxford), flagellation begins to try and prevent plagues, End of major Mongol Empire, King Henry III forced by Simon de Montfort to agree to Provisions of Oxford which is a rudimentary parliament, King forced to submit to the Provisions of Oxford- nobles not subject to king, but council, Osman I- ancestor of Ottomans, born, Mongols plunder Baghdad destroying Abbasid caliphate, English Barons, de Montfort, rebel. List of grievances limit royal power, Mongols execute last Abbasid caliph at Baghdad, Korea becomes Mongol vassal state, England's Provisions of Oxford provides responsibility to the council of barons and not the king - Simon de Montfort was head baron. [5]

King Henry III is the 22nd great grandfather of Jeffery Lee Goodlove

1258…Wet Climate May Have Fueled Mongol Invasion

A statue of Genghis Khan, the founder …

Beginning in the 13th century, the Mongol Empire spread across Asia and into the Middle East like wildfire, growing into the largest contiguous land empire the world has ever seen.

Historians have long speculated that periods of drought pushed the Mongol hordes to conquer their neighbors, but preliminary new findings suggest that theory may be exactly backward. Instead, consistent rain and warm temperatures may have given the Mongols the energy source they needed to conquer Eurasia: grass for their horses.

This idea, bolstered by the discovery of tree rings that preserve a climate history of Mongolia back to 657 A.D., is still in the preliminary stages of investigation. LiveScience spoke with Amy Hessl, the dendochronologist, or tree-ring researcher, who along with collaborators Neil Pederson and Baatarbileg Nachin first discovered the preserved trees hinting at the weather during the era of the Mongols.

LiveScience: How did you find the trees that held the Mongolian climate record?

Hessl: We were funded by the National Science Foundation and the National Geographic Society a few years ago to look at how climate change is impacting wildfire activity in Mongolia. So we had driven by this lava flow that looked reminiscent of other places I know of in the American West that have really long climate records from tree rings. The trees growing on these dry, exposed sites tend to grow until they're really old. And then once they die, the wood decays slowly. It allows you to reconstruct environmental conditions going back a very long time.

We drove by this lava flow, and I was like, "Whoa, that looks like an ideal place." So we went back, and even when we did sample, we didn't think we had anything that great. We were just throwing these pieces of wood back and forth to each other, like, "Oh, we'll make this one into coffee table art." We weren't taking it real seriously.

LiveScience: How did you realize that you'd found something important?

Hessl: I gave them to my colleague Neil Pederson [of Columbia University's Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory]. He didn't look at them for months, until finally he didn't have anything else to do, so he started to date them. I started getting these texts from him on a Friday night and he was like, "I'm back to the 1200s."

Finally, I get this text that just had three numbers on it, 657. I was like, "What was that, does he want me to call him at 6:57 in the morning?" It turned out to be the date of the oldest, most inner ring, 657 C.E. (C.E. stands for Common Era, the period coinciding with the Christian Era and preferred by some as a non-religious alternative to anno Domini, or A.D.)

There are certainly other tree-ring records that go back much farther, but this is special for Mongolia because it clearly covers the period of the rise of [Mongol Emperor] Genghis Khan. [Fight, Fight, Fight: The History of Human Aggression]

LiveScience: How can tree rings tell you what the past climate was like?

Hessl: These trees are growing on this lava, and there's very little soil development, so they're really, really water-stressed. When the tree rings are narrow, that tells you that during its growing season there was very little water available. The bigger the rings, the wetter it was.

LiveScience: What sort of climate patterns did you see as the Mongol Empire arose?

Hessl: It's very preliminary, but in the couple of trees we have in that time period we can see that the rings are not only wide, but they're consistently wide for the time that overlaps with the rise of Genghis Khan.

Our inference there is that this would have been an ideal time for high grassland productivity on the steppe, and that maybe translated into more livestock, especially horses for the Mongols.

To put it in perspective, each Mongol warrior had 10 horses at his disposal. Just right there, that's a huge amount of biomass that is required. In addition to that, when the Mongols expanded their range in their traveling and marauding, they brought with them large numbers of livestock that they used to feed themselves. Their whole military operation was basically predicated on the fact that they had large numbers of grazing animals. These climate conditions would have given them more energy to fuel their empires. [Top 10 Ways Weather Changed History]

LiveScience: What happened later on during the Mongol era?

Hessl: There's a well-known cold period that occurred after a volcanic eruption in 1258, and we can see this plunge into cold, dry conditions in Mongolia. At that same time, right around 1260, the Mongols moved their capital city out of the steppe and into Beijing, and we think it's possible that was related as well. We have a historian, Nicola DiCosmo of the Institute for Advanced Study, we're working with who is going to go back through all of the Chinese documents, Mongolian records and European accounts to try to see if there's information that would corroborate our findings or not.

LiveScience: Are you going back to Mongolia?

Hessl: I'm leaving in a week, actually! We're going to go back to the same lava flow and collect additional samples because we didn't really put our hearts into it the first time. We were only there for a few hours.

We've also identified some other lava fields in Mongolia that we think may have a similar ecological setting. We're also collaborating with some other people. One is Avery Cook Shinneman of the University of Washington, who studies lake sediments. She's going to be taking cores out of lakes in the Orkhon Valley, the seat of the Mongol Empire, looking for a little fungal spore that lives in livestock feces. What we're hoping is that we can get some general numbers and density of the livestock around these lakes going back in time.

LiveScience: What do you find interesting about linking past climate to history like this?

Hessl: It's fascinating to think about the energy sources that previous civilizations were dependent on, and when those energy sources were abundant how those societies responded, and when those energy sources evaporated, how did they adapt to that?

Society today is dealing with major threats to our primary energy source, so it's fascinating to me to look back on these earlier civilizations to see them going through the same transitions. It just puts our current situation in perspective.[6]

June 5, 1296: Edmund Crouchback (January 16, 1245 – d. June 5, 1296).[7]

Edmund Crouchback is the 21st great grandfather of Jeffery Lee Goodlove.

June 5, 1305: Raymond Bertrand de Got is elected Pope under the name Clement V. According to Elizabeth D. Malissa, “Pope Clement V is the first pope to threaten Jews with an economic boycott in an attempt to force them to stop charging Christians interest on loans.”[8]

June 5, 1341: Child of Edward III of England born:


Edmund of Langley, 1st Duke of York

June 5,1341

August 1, 1402

Married (1) Infanta Isabella of Castile sister of Gaunt's second wife; Had issue. Married (2) Joan Holland (his 2nd cousin) in 1392. No issue.[9]


Edmund of Langley, 1st Duke of York is the 2nd cousin 20x removed of Jeffery Lee Goodlove.

June 5, 1758: Lawrence Harrison and his wife Catherine, of Orange County, Virginia, conveyed for currency, to William McWilliams, the younger, of Fredericksburg, merchant, 157 acres of land in Orange County, on the south side of Wysel Run,. which is a part of a patent granted to Andrew Harrison, September 28, 1728, and by the said Andrew Harrison conveyed by deed, 1751, to his son, the said Lawrence Harrison.*

After the sale of the above-mentioned property, in Orange County, Virginia, Lawrence Harrison and his wife Catherine removed to ‘Win­chester, Virginia, where they purchased 346 acres of land from Jacob Heit, of the County of Frederick, Colony of Virginia. - The deed cover­ing this transaction bears date June 5, 1758.[10]



June 5, 1758: HEIT to HARRISON

This Indenture, June 5, 1758, between Jacob Heit of the County of Frederick, Colony of Virginia, of the first part, and Lawrence Harrison, of the said County and Colony, of the second part: WITNESS: For and in consideration of the sum of two shillings,, current money -of Virginia

~ tract or parce1 of land being in the County of Frederick 346 acres . . . granted to Jacob Heit by deed from the honorable,

the Proprietor of the Northern neck, bearing the date of March, 1752, bounded as by survey thereof, made by Mr. Guy Broadwater, as followeth: Beginning at a stake . . . standing in the line of Henry Lloyd, thence extending N. 85°, W. 84 Poles to a stake, thence 150 W., 160 . . . to a stake. . . etc. . to have and to hold. One year hence, -to be completely paid for and ended, yielding and paying therefor the rental . . . one ear of Indian corn, to the said Jacob Heit, on the last day of the said term.



Witness (Signed) Jacob Heit

James Chew

JohnSmith[11]



HARRISON to TULLIS



THIS INDENTURE, made August 2, 1762, between Lawrence Harrison, of the County of Frederick and Colony of Virginia, of the first part, and Moses Tullis, of the same . . . second part . . . Witness: For, five shillings, current money of Virginia . . to said Lawrence. Harrison, in hand paid by Moses Tullis . . . doth grant . . . said tract lying in the County aforesaid, granted to Jacob Heit, by deed under the hand and seal of the Right Honorable Thomas, Lord Fairfax, bearing date 1752 by transfer by Jacob Heit to Lawrence Harrison, bearing date June 5, 1758.

(Signed) Lawrence Harrison



THIS INDENTURE, August 3, 1762, between Lawrence Harrison and Katherine, his wife, in the County of Frederick, Colony of Virginia, of the first part, and Moses Tullis, of the same, of the second part.

This for and in consideration of the sum of two hundred pounds current money of Virginia, paid in hand to Lawrence Harrison and his wife, by Moses TuIlis.

(Signed) Lawrence Harrison.

Catherine Harrison[12]



In 1762, Lawrence Harrison sold the Frederick County property he had bought from Jacob Hite. After the sale there is a gap in what is known of Lawrence Harrison.[13]





Lawrence Harrison and Catherine Harrison are the 6th great grandparents of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



On June 5, 1764 David Vance and wife Janet sold 288 acres in Hampshire County, Virginia (now West Virgina) to Bryan Bruin. Apparently the deed was never recorded. However, on September 14, 1767 in Hampshire County, Virginia (now West Virginia) Bryan Bruin sold a large tract of land on Green Spring Run to John Mitchel. The tract consisted of seven parcels that Bryan Bruin had purchased from different people. One of those seven parcels had been purchased from David and Janet Vance. The deed stated described that parcel as: "288 acres which was granted to David Vance by Deed from the Proprietor of the Northern Neck bearing the date of April 14, 1762, and the said David Vance and Janet, his wife, conveyed to the said Bryan Bruin by Deeds of Lease and Release bearing date the days of June 4 and 5, 1764." [14]

David Vance is the 7th great Granduncle of Jeffery Lee Goodlove

June 5, 1765

At a Court continued and held for Frederick County the 5th day of June, (June 5) 1765.

This last will and testament of Richard Stephenson[15] deceased was produced in court by Honor Stephenson, John Stephenson and Hugh Stephenson the execurtrix and executors therein named who made oath that the date and the same being proved by the oaths of Humphry Wells, George McCormick and Joseph Beeler three of the witnesses thereto and ordered to be recorded and on the motion of the said Honree, John and Hugh who entered into bond with Thomsa Speake, Humphry Wells, John Hardin and David Shepherd their securities in the penaloty of Three Thousand pounds conditioned for their due and faithful administration of the estate certificate is granted them for obtaining a probate in due form.[16]



First Generation

_________________________________________



1. Richard STEPHENSON. Born bet1681-1715 in Ireland. Richard died in Berkeley County, Virginia in July 1765; he was 84.



Richard first married Honoria VALINTINE. Born after 1689. Honoria died in Berkeley County, Virginia in 1776; she was 87.



Richard second married Onoria GRIMES.



They had the following children:

i. John. Born about 1731 in Virginia. John died in Licking, Kentucky in October 1801; he was 70.

abt 1772-1780 when John was 41, he married Margaret MINTER. Born in 1755.

2 ii. Hugh (~1735-1776)

3 iii. James (~1737-1813)

4 iv. Richard (~1739-1776)

v. Elenor. Born about 1740.

5 vi. Marcus (1742-1806)[17]\



Richard Stephenson is the husband of the 7th great grandmother of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



June 5, 1771: Son of King George III

Ernest Augustus I (King of Hanover; b. June 5, 1771, d. November 19, 1851)[18]



Ernest Augustus I is the 18th cousin 4x removed of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



June 5, 1777

“At five o’clock in the morning [the regiment] was embarked on three transport ships in the North River…

“In addition to our regiment, the Leib and Mirbach Regiments, which three regiments made the brigade of Major General von Stirn, and several English regiments, were also embarked, so that our corps consisted of 4,000…” [19]

June 5, 1777

Rueffer’s account then resumes on 5 June. “Yesterday’s orders were carried out this morning when ... our regiment was sent aboard the assigned ships ... Jenny ... New Blessing ... Mermaid ... Lord Howe and we sailed from New York on [7 June].[20]



June 5, 1779: Francesca Smith (b. June 5, 1779).[21]



Francesca Smith is the 3rd cousin 8x removed of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



June 5, 1780 to January 14, 1781

Winch, Thomas (also given Thomas, Jr.).List of 6 months men raised agreeable to resolve of June 5, 1780, returned as received of Maj. Joseph Hosmer, Superintendent for Middlesex Co., by Justin Ely, Commissioner, dated Springfield; also, descriptive list of men raised to reinforce the Continental Army for the term of 6 months, agreeable to resolve of June 5, 1780, returned as received of Justin Ely, Commissioner, by Brig. Gen. John Glover[22], at Springfield, July 14, 1780; age, 18 yrs.; stature, 5 ft. 8 in.; complexion, ruddy; engaged for town of Framingham; marched to camp July 14, 1780, under command of Capt. Hancock; also, Private, Capt. Abel Holden's (Light Infantry) co., 6th Mass. regt.; pay roll for July, 1780; enlisted July 14, 1780; also, Capt. Peter Clayes's co., 6th Mass. regt.; pay roll for August and September 1780; also, pay roll for 6 months men raised by the town of Framingham for service in the Continental Army during 1780; marched July 10, 1780; discharged January 14, 1781; service, 6 mos. 14 days; also, account showing money paid by Benjamin Heywood, Paymaster, 6th Mass. regt., to the 6 months levies in said regiment from August 1, 1780, to the time of their discharge; Capt. Clayes's co.; date of payment, January 14, 1781.[23]

Thomas Winch is the 5th great granduncle of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



[June 5, 1782—Wednesday]

As the first light of dawn filtered through the island of woods, Col. Crawford’s army was not in good shape. Three of their wounded had died during the night, and three of the 19 remaining wounded were close to death. The men were haggard and hollow-eyed, few of them having gotten any sleep at all because of the sporadic whooping and shooting from the Indians during the night, each time causing the Americans to brace themselves for a full-scale attack that never developed. Morale had sunk to a low ebb and was not helped when it was discovered that sometime during the night 15 of the volunteers from Washington County had deserted and, evidently through plain dumb luck, had managed to slip unseen through the Indian lines and gotten away. Hearing this, Pvt. Thomas Mills quickly went to check where his big gray gelding was picketed, fearful they had stolen it, and was inordinately relieved to find the horse still there.

With the coming of daylight, the shooting picked up again, at first “by little flirts,” as Pvt. Stephen Burkarn put it, but soon on full battle scale. The situation was not good; Indians had once again infiltrated into the southeastern portion of the grove and the lack of water was critical, the lack of ammunition serious.

In midmorning Col. Crawford held a council with his principal officers, who were divided in their opinions as to what should be done at this point. Col. Williamson strongly believed that the first order of business should be to drive the Indians out of the lower end of the woods. He suggested that he lead 50 men to hit them from within the woods, while Maj. John Rose, with 150 men on the best remaining horses, simultaneously charge the Indians’ flank. Maj. Rose was agreeable to the plan but, after considerable discussion Col. Crawford vetoed the idea, declaring it to be little more than a suicide mission that, in the end, would accomplish little and would result in the loss of many good American lives.

All the while the fighting continued on the perimeter of the woodland, though without much apparent effect on either side. Volunteers hidden behind trees watched for and shot at any Indians they could pinpoint in the grasses, while return fire from the dense growth kept them constantly pinned down behind their trees. Though most of the shooting was ineffective, a few Indians were seen to be hit, and one of the Negroes who had come with the British from Detroit and was fighting alongside the Indians, was killed when a ball from one of the volunteers struck him in the left temple and blew away the whole right side of his head. A few balls from the Indians found their marks among the volunteers as well. Pvt. John Orr was one of the first to be hit this second day of the battle, a ball slamming through his right side just below the rib cage. He was carried by comrades to the knoll to be treated by Dr. Knight, who had just finished bandaging a fairly severe wound in the upper left arm of Orr’s own battalion commander, Maj. John McClelland.

“Just dropped by, Major,” gasped Orr through his pain, “to see how you were doing.” His attempted smile was largely a failure.

“I’m all right, son, and we’re going to get you home, I promise you.”

The fighting continued in a desultory manner throughout the day, but with little effect. Along about midafternoon the Indians began hurling verbal threats toward the woods. After a while the threats tapered off and the Indians, acting almost as if they were drunk, began exposing themselves to view rather recklessly, at the same time actually beginning to parley, telling the Americans that if they gave up, they would not be harmed. The volunteers scoffed at this, of course, and shouted back that they would never give themselves up to an army of Indians and slaves.

The shooting having tapered off to a large extent, many of the soldiers retired deeper into the woods and were either catching naps or baking stick bread and roasting chunks of bacon over campfires and stuffing food into their saddlebags. Many of them talked about running off during the night, as the group from Washington County had done the previous night.



[24]

The battle seemed to have become a stalemate, but that did not last long. Throughout the day small groups of Indians arrived from different quarters to aid in fighting the Americans, and along about sunset the Shawnees showed up under their war chief, Shemeneto. Some 200 strong, they were garishly painted with whirls and stripes of red, blue, white and ocher on their faces and bare chests. The Wyandots and Delawares greeted them with evident enthusiasm and the groups intermingled at a distance. Soon the Shawnees, trailed by some of their allies, approached the grove, waving a solid red flag and giving vent to exuberant whoopings. They aligned themselves for a considerable distance along the north flank and then began an odd ritual. One of the warriors at the far end of the line raised his gun and shot it skyward, and then others did the same in succession, with only about a second or two between shots, the firing becoming a ripple effect that went clear down the line to the other end. The volunteers had no idea what was going on, and Pvt. Angus McCoy thought it was a superstitious act—that they were firing at the sun to put it out so they could attack the Americans in the dark. Maj. Rose, however, knew that was not the case; he had seen this sort of thing before and explained:

“It is,” he said, “what the French call a fen de joie—a fire of joy—actually, something of an act of defiance. The Shawnees must have seen Frenchmen doing this at some time or another. In doing this, they are flaunting their strength, showing us they have gunpowder and lead to waste and that there is no escape for us. It is, in effect, a celebration of our impending death.”

Immediately upon its conclusion, the firing at the grove broke out again from all the loudly shrieking Indians, as strongly as it had been since the beginning of the battle, and volunteers near the perimeter had to dive for cover behind trees and logs to avoid being shot as bullets smashed bark off the trees and clipped branches in showers around them. This time the grove seemed more completely encircled by the attackers, with shots coming from the grasses all around the grove except in the area of the trail to the south and in the adjacent cranberry bog quadrant to the southwest.

Pvt. William Davies’s rifle was put out of commission when a large ball struck it in the lock area and carried away much of the breech, and Davies looked in disbelief at the barrel and stock still gripped in his stinging hands. There was amazement among many of the men, as well, when 19-year-old Ben Newland abruptly appeared among them. Newland, a popular young man on the frontier, had been captured by Indians ten months earlier and was thought to have been killed by his captors long ago. Now here he was in their camp, having escaped from the Shawnee warriors

who had just arrived. He brought word that those Shawnees were determined to torture to death in the worst possible ways any of the Americans who fell into their hands.

Col. Crawford, having ascertained that the guards were still all in place and watchful for any advance of the Indians toward the woods, called a council of the officers and announced that they would continue returning the fire until dark, at which time they would kindle their fires as they had the night before. This time, however, they would gather their forces and make a sudden concerted break out of the woods and back along the trail upon which they had arrived.

“Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Brigade Maj. Daniel Leet, “but I think that is a serious mistake. The Indians are too alert. There has to be a reason why they haven’t fired from that direction. They evidently want us to make some kind of an attempt in that direction. The southern trail has to be some kind of a trap.”

“That’s possible, Major Leet,” Crawford conceded, “but it doesn’t appear we have much of a choice. Unless, of course, you have a better idea.”

“I think so, Colonel,” Leet replied. “I’ve been studying the firing. There’s been practically nothing coming from the southwest, but that’s all marsh country and it’s not likely we could get through there. But, other than that, directly to the west of the woods there hasn’t been much firing at all, and it’s high ground. I would suggest we launch a surprise attack in that direction and break through the Indian line.”

“That’s stupid!” David Williamson spoke up bluntly. “God Almighty, that would put us even deeper into their country and in an area we’re not familiar with. That’s a lot riskier than going south, where at least we know the lay of the land to some extent.”

“I’d have to agree with Colonel Williamson in that regard,” Crawford said. “The break will be made toward the south, not the west.”

Maj. Leet shook his head, obviously not in agreement. “Our maps tell us there’s a trail west of us about a mile called the Oak Creek Trail. We could hit that, circle around these damned prairies and bogs and go south, then cut eastward to hit Bouquet’s old war trail at the Muskingum and follow it home.”

“I said we will go south, Major,” Crawford said sharply, “and we will. Now let’s start getting things ready.”

Disgruntled, Leet shrugged but said nothing more. Then the miller, Capt. John Hardin, spoke up brashly.

“There have got to be at least twelve hundred Indians out there!” he exclaimed. “For all we know, most of ‘em are lining that road just waiting for us to walk into their trap. I think we would stand a much greater chance if the individual companies separated and each went off on its own, and made its own way back to safety.”

Col. Crawford gave Capt. Hardin a scornful look and immediately quashed that idea, then issued the direct order that the entire army would stay together as a complete unit and that absolute discipline must be maintained.

A definite sense of foreboding permeated the Americans in the grove as the twilight deepened into night and the men began making preparations for the retreat; though they were relieved that at last they would be leaving this place, they feared what lay ahead. Were the Indians, as so many suspected, lying in wait for them in great numbers along the trail by which they had arrived here? Were they at this moment silently slipping into the woods under cover of night to fall upon them as they packed their gear and readied their horses? It was 150 miles of wilderness between here and the Ohio River, in every mile of which they could be struck with a devastating force that they would not be able to counteract. Would that occur?

As Col. Crawford had directed, a large number of small fires were built to give the illusion that the army was settling into its camp for the night. Some of these fires were built on the graves of their fallen comrades to disguise the freshly turned earth and prevent the Indians from digging up dead to scalp them. Among the 23 wounded were seven who were so severely injured they could not ride; litters were made that could be suspended between two horses to carry them. Pvt. John McDonald, in severe pain from his broken thigh, was one of these. The whole body of the army was to form in four divisions, keeping the wounded in the center.

While these preparations were under way, the hard-headed Capt. John Hardin gathered together his own men and drew them off to the side. All four Hardins were together—Capt. John Hardin Sr., and his son John, Jr., as well as his illegitimate son John, called Jack, and his nephew Thomas. He whispered to his men that he was sure the army was going to ride straight into an ambush, and he had no intention of becoming a part of it. In direct disobedience of Col. Crawford’s orders, he told them he would lead his own company to safety his own way, and any among them who did not wish to accompany him was free to leave now and be cut to pieces with the main army. Only a few refused to go along, and within a few minutes Hardin and his men were quietly leading their horses toward the western fringe of the woodland, close to half a mile west of the south trail. Here the fires of the Indians were farther apart, and it seemed the men would be able to slip through the enemy lines.

The full movement of the retreat was scheduled to begin at nine o’clock, and by sunset just about all were in readiness. Gradually the main army, under guidance of its various commanders, moved into a marching order, with Maj. John McClelland’s battalion in the lead position, ready to move the instant the order was passed in whispers through the line. McClelland glimpsed Pvt. John Orr, horseless, arms clasped snug against his bandaged side, standing ready, with several other men who had lost their horses, to move on foot with the retreat when it began. Despite the waves of pain emanating from his bandaged upper left arm, the major remembered his earlier promise to this severely injured soldier, and now he dismounted and gave Orr his own horse, helping the grateful private into the saddle.

It was at about this juncture when word reached Col. Crawford that Capt. John Hardin was slipping off with his company, intent on finding his own way to safety. Infuriated at such flagrant insubordination bordering on desertion, Crawford placed the army in temporary command of the only officer near him, Brigade Maj. Daniel Leet, and galloped off westward from the trail to overtake Capt. Hardin’s company and order the men back to the army. Almost immediately angry murmurings rose from the men who saw him depart but did not understand his intention and presumed he was deserting them to save his own life. And because their surgeon, Dr. Knight, and their guide, John Slover, were also rmssing, they thought all three had fled on their own.[25]

Col. Crawford had traveled away from the main force on Hardin’s trail for only a few minutes when everything fell apart. Hardin’s company, several hundred yards ahead of Crawford, in the prairie darkness near the western perimeter of the woods, had spotted an extensive dark area between the fires in one location, which Capt. Hardin took to be the dividing line between the newly arrived Shawnees, whose fires arced southward and eastward, toward the marsh and the road, and the Delawares and Wyandots, whose fires arced northward and then eastward flanking the northern perimeter of the woods. Selecting that darkest spot between the Indian fires as the area where they were most likely to succeed in breaking through the Indian line, he led his men quietly in that direction. It didn’t work out; midway in its passage, the small company was detected and, in moments, a whole barrage of shooting broke the silence of the night. Only one of the volunteers was hit, and that just a minor graze across the shoulder. Hardin instantly put his force into a gallop and surged ahead, making for the darkness beyond and putting distance between themselves and their pursuers.

The burst of gunfire, however, had far-reaching ramifications. In one brief instant the men in the main army formation concluded they were being attacked by the whole Indian force, and their fear turned into abject panic. Men yelled in terrified voices, and horses screamed as they were suddenly kicked into a milling, confused welter of hooves and bodies. The Indians on the north line instantly added their voices and gunfire to the confusion and plunged headlong into the woods.

The greater part of the army was abruptly in chaotic motion, thundering madly through the darkness to the south, generally along the trail but with splinter groups breaking off here and there, their horses rearing and shrieking and filled with unbridled terror. Among those behind Maj. McClelland’s advance party but in the van of the main army was Pvt. Thomas Mills, who had vaulted into his saddle the instant panic broke out and kicked his gray gelding into a gallop at the very forefront of the tumultuous rush.

The men on foot in the advance division, including Maj. McClelland, were simply ridden over by the mass of horses behind them, and a good many were badly injured and left behind to their fate. Abandoned as well were the many volunteers still on sentry duty, especially along the northern perimeter of the woods, who had not yet even been informed that a retreat was planned. These sentries—some patrolling and others taking their turns at getting some sleep—were simply overrun by the many fiercely shrieking Indians charging into the woodland from the north. The sentries had little chance and were killed or captured at their posts, some never even awakening before tomahawks ended their lives.

The initial pandemonium of the troops in the main army continued, and McClelland’s advance mounted battalion, fearing to be overridden by those behind, plunged ahead even more furiously, distancing themselves from the followers and, as had been feared, surging directly into a mass of Indians, largely Shawnees and Delawares, positioned for just such an eventuality. Both McClelland’s precipitous advance and the Hardin company’s flight were providential acts that, though horribly disconcerting at first, aided the bulk of the main army immeasurably.

The Indians were not quite sure what was occurring. The chiefs were at first under the impression—bolstered by the initial breakthrough of the Hardin company —that the movements were feints to decoy them into an exposed position. That impression did not last. Their hesitation evaporated as the realization dawned that this was a panic-inspired full-scale retreat, and they immediately surged to attack in the darkness.

With Col. Crawford still gone and likely by this time either to be dead or captured, Col. David Williamson now relieved Brigade Maj. Leet and took over command of the army, assisted by Maj.John Rose. Their portion of the army was no longer so panic-stricken as before, and they were, for the most part, still together as a unit. Fortunately, Jonathan Zane was with them, and when he suggested a way he might be able to lead them through the Indian lines, the new commander listened closely. It was a reasonable plan and now, at Williamson’s orders, they veered southwest, away from the road. While the Indians were diverted into concentrating on Hardin’s company at the western prairie front and on McClelland’s advance force on the road south, the main army skirted the northern arc of the expansive cranberry bog and began moving down its western side, fortuitously getting the bog between themselves and the Indians. Zane, riding beside Col. Williamson, continued to guide them through the darkness.

As the panic had broken out and the troops thrashed away in the darkness, Francis Dunlavy, at the northeastern edge of the occupied portion of the grove, found himself left suddenly crouching behind a log with another soldier and wondering what was happening. Dunlavy had a horse, but the young soldier with him, his panic rising, had none. Dunlavy urged that they both get on the horse and rush after the others as swiftly as possible, but the young volunteer was frozen with fear.

“Come on, man!” Dunlavy urged. “Get on the horse. There’s no time to waste.” Still the youth remained locked in place, wailing in his terror, and now Indians, attracted by the noise he was making, shrieked triumphantly as they burst into the far end of the glen on foot. One charged with uplifted tomahawk and Dunlavy instantly leaped into the saddle and kicked his horse into a gallop to the south. The young soldier fell dead with a tomahawk in his brain just as Dunlavy plunged into the deeper darkness of the woods beyond.

Back on the road close to the woods, Maj. John McClelland, still afoot and dazed from having been overridden and passed by his troops, suddenly heard Indians coming toward him, and he broke into a run. Wounded as he was, he could not run fast and tired quickly. Within 100 yards he was overtaken and felt his arms gripped on both sides by warriors—Shawnees—and his weapons ripped away from him. He braced himself for the tomahawk blow that would end his life, but it did not fall. Instead, he was hustled off in the darkness by the Indians toward one of their watchfires.

Col. Crawford, upon hearing the outbreak of firing at Hardin’s company, wheeled his horse around and retraced his path back toward the south trail where it emerged from the woods and where the main army had been. He arrived there just as the rear of that force, mostly afoot, was leaving the woods, and he mingled with the men, calling out for his son, son-in-law and nephew, who, last he knew, should be among these men. They did not answer, and none of the passing men had any idea where they were. Fearing they were still deeper in the woods, Crawford reined his mount back into the grove to search for them.

The chaos continued and, as balls whistled among the rear divisions under Majs. John Brinton and Daniel Leet, the woods were rapidly emptying of the volunteers, except for those who were confusedly moving in circles or who were wounded and horseless. Among the latter was Capt. Ezekiel Rose, who had taken a ball that passed through his chest and out his back. Though conscious, he was in shock and certain he was dying. He considered it most important that he say The Lord’s Prayer before he died. In his confused state he kept making mistakes in the wording, and upon realizing he had done so, he would immediately break off and begin the prayer again. Men of his own company and others tried to help him onto a horse, but he struggled against them, deeming it necessary that he complete the prayer before attempting escape. Maj. Leet happened by, saw what was occurring and, exasperated, picked him up and practically dumped him into the saddle, then ordered a private up behind him to hold him on as they rode.

Maj. Brinton abruptly took a ball and, badly wounded, was himself helped away, while Maj. Leet took over his command, and with some 90 men in tow, including Col. Crawford’s son John, he led them directly west through the woods, heading for the Oak Creek Trail he had earlier advocated using, taking a chance on breaking through the Indian line in that direction. He succeeded, not only in bursting past the Indians but in reaching the trail running west of the cranberry bog. The Indians fired in wild abandon as the whites charged through, but they did not follow so large a body of men in the darkness, fearing that they would themselves be slain.

Pvt. Michael Myers, one of the sentries on the northern perimeter, heard the gunfire and assumed the Indians were attacking from the west. He leaped up onto the broad trunk of a fallen tree and looked into the woods toward the southwest, trying to ascertain more accurately the origin of the firing. He heard a noise behind and spun around to see the shadowy forms of Indians emerging from the deep grasses and rushing toward him. He snapped off a shot but missed and, almost in the same instant, an arrow buried itself in his leg just above the knee, tumbling him to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, gripping his empty rifle now by the barrel to swing as a club. The warriors were swarming to him by then, and he managed to hit several with the gun, but then a tomahawk blow knocked the rifle out of his grip, cut his hand badly and dislocated his thumb. Driven to his knees by warriors swarming over him, he still managed to shake them off and get to his feet again. He yanked out the arrow projecting from his leg and raced off toward the darkest part of the woods. Despite the wound, he eluded his pursuers and emerged from the grove just above the marsh, into which he plunged without pause.

As Col. Crawford penetrated deeper into the woods searching for his three relatives, another horseman, hearing him calling their names, rode up to him. It turned out to be Dr. John Knight, coming from the direction of the knoll, and they joined. Knight evinced concern about a couple of men still on the knoll who were dying and whom he had been loath to leave as the retreat formed up. He had decided to stay with them as long as possible. Then had come the pandemonium from the panicked troops on the south and the howls and shrieks of the Indians entering the woods on the north approaching the knoll. He’d had no other choice then but to leave his trunkful of surgical tools and medical supplies behind and the dying men to their fate, snatch up a rifle, powderhorn and lead pouch belonging to one of the dying men, and try to overtake the army. That was when he encountered his commander.

Now Col. Crawford and Dr. Knight tried to decide what their best move might be. Knight assured his commander that by this time all the men were well ahead of them with the retreating army. Crawford was, of course, unaware that his son was already breaking through the Indian line to the west under Maj. Leet, while his nephew, William Crawford, and his son-in-law, William Harrison, were together with Maj. McClelland’s advance force, now under heavy attack and scattering like flushed quail. The two young men, for the moment, having become separated from others, rode southeastward until they were well away from the road, then turned south again, expecting to intersect the trail once more in a mile or so and rejoin their unit.

Col. Crawford grimly concluded that if Dr. Knight was incorrect, his three relatives had already been taken prisoner or killed, and so he terminated his search. But now the question was what to do. He was furious at the disorder of the premature retreat and complained bitterly about the disobedience of the troops. From the sounds to the south, the screams of the Indians dominating, it seemed evident that the Indians were now in force in that direction. The cries of the Indians approaching through the woods from the north cut off that avenue of escape, so with a few murmured words Crawford led the way toward the northwest. They picked their way carefully through the dark woodland, pausing now and then as they heard nearby Indians approach and then pass them unseen. At length they came to the far northwestern edge of the grove and found the prairie silent before them, a few untended watchfires dimming. Logic dictated that they turn southward and pass west of the bog, as Maj. Leet had earlier suggested, but, still convinced the Indians lay in wait there, Crawford took a different tack.

“I think our best chance,” he told Knight, “is to head straight north for a while until we’ve cleared the Indian lines and then head east for the river, get across and continue in that direction for a good way before swinging to the south, then east again, and then south again to confuse any of the Indians that might be trying to follow us. That way maybe we can avoid them, and we should be able to hit the trail again by daylight and perhaps intercept the army.” Having no better suggestion, Knight agreed, and they moved off at once.

While the height of the panic prevailed, the rear guard of the army was all confusion. Many of the men, hearing the crash of guns and seeing muzzle flashes in the dark woods behind them, struck out in whichever direction happened to lead away from the assumed danger. A good number, emerging from the woodland, immediately galloped to the southwest and almost at once encountered the northern swell of the expansive cranberry marsh. Into it they plunged with reckless abandon. Very quickly their horses mired and they abandoned them and continued on foot, slogging waist deep, sometimes neck deep, in water and muck, losing weapons, provisions and footwear in the process. All the while they were pressed by those behind, who were hastened by the hail of balls following them and ripping through the tangle of bushes and other marsh growth. For six volunteers who hesitated or fell, including Pvt. Benjamin McQueen, the Indians were almost instantly upon them with tomahawks and scalping knives.

Back at the rear of the main army, McQueen’s brother, Thomas, also a private, got separated from his company during the retreat and linked up with a Frenchman and a lieutenant in similar straits. All three were still mounted, but their horses were in bad condition, and concluding they could not catch up, the three struck out overland in an effort to get home on their own.

Pvt. John Sherrard of Capt. Biggs’s company, who had supplied men with water from the root-hole pool in the woods during the battle there, found himself separated in the wild retreat from his unit and riding beside a longtime friend, Pvt. Conrad Harbaugh of Capt. John Beeson’s company. Sherrard’s horse was in better condition than Harbaugh’s, which was wheezing and groaning from exertion, but Harbaugh had a good saddle while Sherrard was uncomfortably seated on a packsaddle. The two young men discussed whether it would be wisest to trot their horses after their units and conserve the strength of the animals, or put them into a gallop at once to overtake them. At that juncture Sherrard glimpsed a shadowy figure nearby and correctly guessed it was an Indian.

“Take cover!” he hissed, and leaped down, pulling his horse toward a big tree behind which he might find cover. Harbaugh’s reaction was slower and, as he dismounted, a lead ball whined out of the darkness and drilled straight through the right side of his chest. He dropped to the ground, struggled a moment to get up and then sank back into a sitting position.

“Lord have mercy on me,” he said aloud. “I’m a dead man!”

The Indian, evidently expecting the second man to return fire, raced away on foot in the darkness. Sherrard ran to Harbaugh to assist and was dismayed to find his companion dead, still in a sitting posture. He sadly lowered the body into a supine position and, unwilling to be burdened with carrying two guns, lay the dead man’s rifle beside him. The death was a great blow to him, but this was no time for indecision, so he swiftly removed saddle and bridle from Harbaugh’s horse and turned the animal loose. Jerking his own uncomfortable packsaddle and pack off his horse and tossing them aside, then removing the makeshift rope rein, he replaced them with Harbaugh’s bridle and saddle and in moments was mounted and moving off. No shots came and no one pursued him, but he had traveled fewer than 100 yards when he suddenly realized he had left behind his bedroll attached to the packsaddle and that all his provisions were inside the rolled-up blanket. He turned back.

He found Harbaugh’s body where he had left it but was amazed to find that in the short time he had been gone, the Indian had returned and taken Harbaugh’s scalp and gun. The horse he had turned loose was also gone. Searching about quickly, Sherrard fortunately located his packsaddle with the bedroll still attached, overlooked by the Indian, and he swiftly tied it behind the saddle on his own horse. Then he remounted and slapped the horse into a gallop. Within three miles he managed to catch up to the rear of the retreating army.

Pvt. Michael Walters was another of those soldiers afoot at the rear of the main army and, as he trotted along trying to keep up with the horsemen, he was joined by two other privates afoot, Christopher CoiThian and James Coffins, all three of Capt. Beeson’s scattered company. They concluded, as Thomas McQueen had, that they would never be able to overtake the mounted men ahead of them, and they quickly made a pact to remain together through whatever might occur and to do their utmost to protect one another.



Before the panic occurred, John Slover, knowing his horse would need all its strength on the retreat, had taken his mount to a nearby glade and was feeding the animal there. On the outbreak of panic, he instantly realized what was occurring and leaped into the saddle and headed for the southern edge of the woodland, emerging a little distance west of the road. He reined his horse toward it but traveled only a short way when he discovered that the main part of the force had veered to the southwest. He headed his mount that way and put it into a gallop in an effort to overtake them. In doing so, he overshot their path and wound up in the extensive marshland.

Slover forced his mount through the water and muck for a time, but the horse eventually bogged down badly and was quickly losing its strength. Not far behind he could hear some warriors closing in, so he dropped off the saddle, smacked the horse on its rump to send it floundering away with a splashing racket for the Indians to follow and himself waded silently straight ahead toward the western edge of the marsh a mile distant.

Slover had continued wading through the marsh without pause and at last, only a short time ago, the ground became firmer under his feet. In a few more minutes he left the mire behind, and now, after continuing westward for a time, he had finally come to the Oak Creek Trail. There he encountered five volunteers who had become separated in the darkness from the group under Maj. Daniel Let. They included Col. Crawford’s nephew, Ens. William Crawford, and the colonel’s son-in law, William Harrison, along with Pvts. William Nemins, James Paul and Thomas Heady. The six immediately joined forces and began angling toward the southeast, hoping to link up again with their units but, failing that, to reach the Ohio River on their own. With Slover, one of the expedition’s guides, now with them, their chances of doing so were greatly improved.

Hardly half a mile away, Pvt. James Collins, having become separated in the panic from his brother Joshua and several others, had been struck by a vagrant ball that entered his hip at a sharp angle and passed through the muscle tissue without striking any bones, exiting close to his backbone. It had knocked him off his horse, and the animal raced away. Dazed, a few moments later Collins tried to rise and was surprised at being able to do so successfully. The wound hurt considerably, but he found he could still walk, albeit with difficulty.

“Helluva thing,” he muttered, “to go out on my first real Injen hunt and get shot in the ass!”

Continuing to limp along carefully in the darkness, he soon connected with three other privates on foot who had become separated from their company. In whispers they discussed their present dangerous situation and, convinced they could not catch up to the army, decided to strike out eastward on their own and head for home as best they could.549

Less than a mile farther south on the trail, Collins’s brother, Joshua, was also afoot, his horse having given out. In the darkness he linked up with two other privates, Michael Walters and Christopher Coffman, whose horses had also failed beneath them—the penalty of having set out on this campaign with horses that were essentially worthless in the beginning. As his brother James had done only a short time before, Joshua Collins suggested they strike out overland, away from the trails, and try to get back to the Ohio. Coffman and Walters agreed, and they set off, determined to travel as rapidly as they could through the remainder of this night to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the Sandusky towns.

Meanwhile, in water, muck and mire to his armpits, Michael Myers had bulled his way through snaggly brush and stumbled over unseen submerged logs to the middle of the marsh. At that point, some 15 minutes ago, he had had a severe scare when there was a thrashing in the mucky cover to his right. He reached for his belt sheath to free his hunting knife and defend himself, but the approaching person turned out to be a friend and neighbor, Martin Swigart. They had almost wept with the relief of encountering each other. Together they floundered through the remain­der of the muck to the west side of the marsh.

Emerging and quickly encountering the Oak Creek Trail just as John Slover had done a short time before them, they found a soldier who had dropped out of Leet’s movement with a ball lodged in his ankle. Unable to walk farther with the ball still inside and seeing that Myers had his knife in the belt sheath, he begged them to cut the ball out.

“It’ll hurt like hell,” Myers warned, “but you’ll have to keep quiet, or you’ll bring the Injens down on us.”

“For God’s sake, do it!” the soldier moaned. “I won’t make a sound.”

Myers removed his knife from its sheath, leaned over the man’s foot and began probing with the tip of the blade. Despite his effort to remain silent, the man screamed at the pain. Myers clapped his hand over the man’s mouth, and his words came out in a hiss.

“No more crying out, you hear?” The man nodded, and Myers added, “You holler again, we’ll have to leave you on your own.”

The man moaned an assent and Myers again bent over him and touched his blade to the wound. Once more the man’s scream rent the air, and Myers desisted. “We’re not gonna let you get us killed,” he said with finality, and he and Swigart left the man lying where he was and moved on.

A short while later Myers and Swigart, hearing Indians nearby, separated and, both fearing to call out and reveal their presence, each moved on by himself. Myers came to where some Indian horses were picketed together. He slipped quietly among them, selected the one that appeared to be most powerful and secured it by forming a bridle out of willow withes, which he put around the horse’s lower jaw. He quietly led the horse out of hearing of anyone who might be nearby, then mounted and rode through the remainder of the night.

Well ahead of where Myers and Swigart became separated, a group of ten men south of the marsh had also become separated in the darkness from Maj. Leet’s retreat as it passed through a region of thick brush. Their horses, already jaded, could barely push their way through, and finally the ten, including Pvt. Jonas Sams, dismounted and left their mounts, continuing on foot. In the pale moonlight they eventually managed to make their way back to the prairie grass. Using the moon to get their bearings, they moved off slightly east of south and soon came to a dimly perceived trail heading in a more easterly direction. Some of the men declared it was the trail they were seeking, but Sams and others argued the point.

“Ain’t no way,” Sams said, “our boys could’ve passed ‘long this here trail ‘thout leavin’ a bigger swath than this. I’m fer goin’ on the way we been headin’.”

Split in their opinions, the group split in their action, half following the small trail just encountered, while Sams and the other four continued moving just east of south.

The Sams group were not the only men to get separated from their comrades in the darkness. The unit under Maj. John Rose fell back from that under Col. Williamson and took a wrong trail in the dark, angling toward the west. They increased their speed to catch up to the others, and were wondering why they had not done so when the moon rose and they discovered their error. By the dim moonlight, they could see that no body of horsemen had ridden this trail just before them and that they were riding southwest.

“Well,” remarked Pvt. Angus McCoy philosophically, “one thing you can say for takin’ a wrong trail—we ain’t been bothered by the Injens lately. ‘Course, in the direction we’re headin’, we’ll wind up in the Shawnee towns, an’ I reckon they’ll have a warm welcome for us.”

Without further ado, Maj. Rose turned the column to the left and, cutting straight through untrammeled prairie grass, rode rapidly for over two miles before finding the correct trail again, which, at that point was running nearly parallel to the less used trail they had mistakenly taken.

Having intercepted the principal trail, Maj. Rose discovered they were at this point about three miles south of the old Half King’s Town that they had found abandoned on their approach here. He also found that the main force under Col. Williamson had not yet passed here, but in only a matter of minutes that portion of the army arrived, the big gray gelding with Pvt. Thomas Mills perched on its back clearly visible in the moonlight. The two units quickly merged, swelling the number of the whole to around 250 men.

Williamson’s force had not had an easy time of it. Its delay in arriving at that point had been due to a couple of unfortunate circumstances. First, their mounts had initially been pushed too hard when the panic broke out and had played out to the point that a fair number had to be abandoned and their riders forced to accompany the remainder afoot; only a small number of the horses seemed capable of going on with a hard ride—Pvt. Mills’s gray being one of them. Second, the following Indians and British Rangers had quickly overtaken them and inaugurated an annoying rear action, sniping at the retreaters from under cover and quickly killing or capturing any stragglers. About a dozen men were missing and presumed killed or captured.

Now, with the two principal forces of the main army rejoined, Col. Williamson placed Capt. John Biggs’s company as a strong rear guard and resumed the march through the darkness, intent on getting as far away from the Sandusky towns as possible before the break of day.[26]



June 4, 1782



Next morning about six o’clock their guns were discharged, at the distance of two or three hundred yards, which continued till day, doing little or no execution on either side.

The field officers then assembled and agreed, as the enemy were every moment increasing, and we hade already a number of wounded, to retreat that night. The whole body was to form into three lines, keeping the wounded in the centre. We had four killed and twenty-three wounded, of the latter, seven very dangerously, on which account as many biers were got ready to carry them; most of the rest were slightly wounded and none swo bad but they could ride on horseback.

After dark the officers wern on the outr posts and brought in all the men as expeditiously as they could. Just as the troops were about to form, several guns were fired by the enemy, upon which some of our men spoke out and said our intention was discovered by the Indians who were firing alarm guns. Upon which some in front hurried off and the rest immediately followed, leaving the seven men that were dangerously wounded, some of whom however got off on horseback, by means of some good friends, who waited for, and assisted them.

We had not got a quarter of a mile from the field of action when I heard Col. Crawforde calling for his son, John Crawford, his son-inlaw, Major Harrison, Major Rowe and William Crawford, his nephews, upon which I came up and told him I believed they were on before us. He asked was that the doctor? I told him it was. He then replied thay were not in front, and begged of me not leave him. I promised him I would not.

We then waited and continued calling for these men till the troops had passed us. The Colonel told me his horse had almost given out, that he could not keep up with the troops, and wished some of his best friends to remain with him. He then exclaimed against the militia for riding off in such an irregular manner, and leaving some of the wounded behind, contrary to his orders. Presently there came two men riding after us, one of them an old man, the other a lad.
We enquired if they had seen any of the above persons? They answered thay had not.

By this time there was very hot firing before us, and as we judged, near where our main body must have been. Our course was then nearly Southwest, but changing it, we went north about two miles, the two men remaining in company with us. Judging ourselves to be now out of the enemy’s lines, we took a due East course, taking care to keep at the distance of fifteen or twenty yards apart, and directing ourselves by the North star.

The old man often lagged behind, and when this was the case, never failed to call for us to halt for him. When we were near the Sandusky creek he fell one hundred yards behind, and bawled out, as usual, for us to halt for him. When we were preparing to reprimand him for making a noise, I heard an Indian hallo, as I thought, one hundred and fifty yards from the man, and parly behind him. After this we did not hear the man call again, neither did he ever come up to us any more.

It was now past midnight, and about daybreak Col. Crawford’s and the young man’s horses gave out, and they left them. We pursued our journey Eastward, and about two o’clock fell in with Capt. Biggs, who had carried Lieut. Ashley from the field of action, who had been dangerously wounded. We then went on about the space of an hour, when a heavy rain coming on, we concluded it was best to encamp, as we were encumbered with the wounded officer. We then barked four or five trees, made an encampment and a fire, and remained there all that night. [27]





June 5-6, Retreat of the American Army.

June 5, Colonel William Crawford was captured by the Indians. Colonel William Crawford was put to death by burning at the stake by the Indians. The place is marked by a monument near Crawford, Ohio, a small settlement north of Upper Sandusky, Ohio.

Some members of his army:

Martin Swlckard Andrew Monros John Cotton

Henry Franks, Sr.6[28]



Painting of Battle Island by Frank Halbedel[29]





June 5th Wednesday, 1782



June 5th Wednesday.—the firing begun at Sun rise & continued all Day at long shot. the ennemy’s intention was evidently, to cause us to waste our ammunition. They kept mannuvering all Day, trying to make small numbers look large; so to draw our attention, amuse us, untill a rein forcement would arrive them— A plan was proposed to send a party of 150 men mounted on the best Horses, upon the enemy’s left Flank and attack them at the same time with 50 Foot in front in that small stripe of Woods. Col. Williamson was to lead the foot and the Command of the horse was assigned to me. Col C—d talked of taking the sense of his Field Officers, and the proposal was laid a side. Even our Light horse had been ordered the Evening before to dismount, & post themselves behind Trees.

I observed the number of Horsemen among the ennemy increase visibly, which the enemy show’d us to very great advantage: & in the evening a Body of 150 Shawnoes advanced quite openly in 8 Columns on the common road in our Rear, carrying a standard (red) at the head of their Centre Column. These encamped to the S. in the rear upon our left. There was now but about a quarter of a mile between the Shawnoes and Delaware encampments in our Rear across the road we had to return on. the Delawares etc extended from E. in the Rear of Right all along upon our Right untill nearly West in front of us along the road to Sandusky.

At Sunset the enemy fired off their guns all round by way of a Feu de joie—this political stroke of theirs had that effect it was intended for, & compleated the Business with us.

Orders had been issued to make Biers for such Wounded as could not ride on horseback. Now it was ordered the men should singly go & sadie their horses & put on their Loads. A retreat was agreed on to be made in the night, marching in 2 columns a long the same Road we came, and fighting our way if we should be discovered & attacked by the enemy.

Immediately after Dark we were collected & paraded in Companies to take up our Line of march as agreed on, and had called in all our Sentinels, when one Capt. Hardin at the head of a large party, thinking our enterprize rather hazardous was moving off toward the town first, and expected by a circuitous march to fall into our path & by that means avoid the enemy’s vigilance. Col. C—d desired Harrison & myself to detain the Body untill he should persuade Hardin’s party to return, as we were too much weakened by this separation— He was not long gone, when the ennemy begun to fire into our encampment. that instant every Body was pushing as if it had been a signal agreed on for that purpose. Most all took to the South round the lower end of the Shawnee encampment and some few went along the path agreeable to our made known plan. These suffered considerably as the enemy was alarmed by their sentries & guards on the Road— At the old TownS of Sandusky our party of about 50 struck the road and an other larger party fell in at our Rear. to avoid passing a large glade a mile from the town we wanted to follow the trail of our outermost left Column on our advance, which took as I recollected through the Woods round the head of the glade to our right & South. Unmindfull that the Shawnee path did take off at the same place, we fell upon it and followed it for near 2 miles, deceived by the trails on each side, as the Shawnoes advanced in 3 Columns. the rise of the moon undeceived us at last and we struck strait across into our proper path 3 miles from the old Town. here Col. Williamson & his party joined us, which increased our number to about 250 men.[30]



ORDERS GIVEN ON AN EXPEDITION OF VOLUNTEERS TO SANDUSKY, 1782.



PLAINs OF SANDUSKY



Orders. Field of Action: June the 5th 1782

It behoves every Officer to pay the greatest attention to the sufferings of those Brave Men who so nobly fought, & whose Wounds yet Bleed for their Country. Such as Dr Knight judges not able to ride, are to be immediately provided with Biers. The Officers of those Companies such men belong to, will see this Order diligently and expeditiously executed.— they will likewise cause their Men to sadle & load their horses singly during the day—not in a Body: which might discover our intentions to the Ennemy— [31]



June 5, 1782

Next morning we again prosecuted our journey, and having gone about three miles found a deer which had been recently killed. The meat was sliced from the bones and bundled up in the skin, with a tomahawk lying by it. We carried all with us, and advanceing about one mile further, espied the smoke of a fire. We then gave the wounded officer into the charge of the young man, directing him to staybehind whilst the Colonel, the Captain and myself walked up as cautiously as we could toward the fire. When we came to it, we concluded, from several circumstances, some of our people had encamped there the preceding night. We then went about roasting the venison, and when just about to march, observed one of our men coming upon our tracks. He seemed at first very shy, but having called to him he came up and told us he was the person who had killed the deer, but upon hearing us come up, was afraid of Indians, hid it in a thicket and made off. Upon this we gave him some bread and rasted venison, proceeded all together on our journey, and about two o’clock came upon the paths by which we had gone out. Capt. Biggs and myself did not think it safe to keep the road, but the Colonel said the Indians would not follow the troops farther than the plains, which we were then considerably past. As the wounded officer rode Capt. Bigg’ horse, I lent the Captain mine. The Colonel and myself went about one hundred yards in front, the Captain and the wounded officer in the centre, and the two young men behind. After we had traveled about one mile and a half, several Indians started up withing fifteen or twenty steps of the Colonel and me. As we at first discovered only three, immediately got behind a large black oak, made ready my piece and raised it up to take sight, when the Colonmel called me twice not to fire, upon that one of the Indians ran-up to the Colonel and took him by the hand.

They were Delaware Indians of the Wingenund tribe. Captain Biggs fired amongst them but did no execution. They then told us to call these people and make them come there, else they would go and kill them, which the Colonel did, but they forgot us and escaped for that time. The Colonel and I were then taken to the Indian camp, which was about half a mile from the place where we were captured. On Sunday evening five Delawares who had posted themselves at some distance further on the road brought back to the camp, where we lay, Captain Biggs’ and Lieutenant Ashley’s scalps, with an Indian scalp which Captain Biggs had taken in the field of action; they also brought in Biggs’ horse and mine, they told us the other two men got away from them.[32]



June 5, 1782

The next day (they) fired on each other at the distance of three hundred yards, doing little or no execution. In the evening of theat day it was proposed by Col. Crawford, as I have since been informed, to draw off with order; but at the moment of our retreat the Indians (who had probably perceived that we were about to retreat) firing alarm guns, our men broke and rode off in confusion, treading down those who were on foot, and leaving the wounded men who supplicated to be taken with them.

I was with some others on the rear of our troops feeding our horses in the glade, when our men began to break. The main body of our people had passed by me a considerable distance before I was ready to set out. I overtook them before they crossed the glade, and was advanced almost in front. The company in which I was had separated from me, and had endeavored to pass a morass, for coming up I found their horses had stuck fast in the morass, and endeavoring to pass, mine also in a short time stuck fast. I ought to have said, the company of five or six men with which I had been immediately connected, and who were some distance to the right of the main body, had separated from me, &c. I tried a long tome to disengage my horse, until I could hear the enemy just behind me, and on each side, but in vain. Here then I was obliged to leave him. The morass was so unstable that I was to the middle in it, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I got acrossit, but which having at length done, I cme up with the six men who had left their horses in the same manner I had done; two of these, my compnions, having lost their guns.

We traveled that night, making our course towards Detroit, with a view to shun the enemy, who we conceived to have taken the paths by which the main body of our people had retreated.[33]



June 5, 1806: Louis Napoléon Bonaparte, the brother of Napoleon Bonaparte, began his reign as King of Holland. Louis was supportive of his Jewish subjects and sought to make them full-fledged citizens of his Dutch kingdom. He “changed the market-day in some cities (Utrecht and Rotterdam) from Saturday to Monday” and abolished the use of the "Oath More Judaico" Henceforth, Jews and Christians would swear to the same oath when testifying. in the courts of justice, and administered the same formula to both Christians and Jews. In an attempt to improve their skills in the art of war, ‘’he formed two battalions of 803 men and 60 officers, all Jews.” Prior to his reign, the Jews had been until then excluded from military service. [Editors Note – It may seem strange to westerners living in the 21st century, but at that time, serving in the military was considered a sign of full-citizenship. If you will remember the story of Asser Levy and his fight to serve in the militia in New Amsterdam you will understand the importance of what Louis did.][34]

June 5, 1838 – The round-up of the Cherokee in Tennessee.[35]

Internment camps in Bradley County: Cherokee Agency, Rattlesnake Springs, South Mouse Creek No. 1, South Mouse Creek No. 2, Gunstocker Spring, Upper Chatata, Beeler Ridge, Chestua Creek, Camp Ross at Red Clay, Bedwell’s Springs, Wildwood Spring, Camp Hetzel (Cleveland), and Candy’s Creek. Internment camps in Hamilton County: Camp Cherokee near Ross’ Landing and Camp Clanewaugh at Indian Springs.[36]

June 5, 1851: Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin appears as a serial in an anti-slavery newspaper in Washington, D.C.[37]



Sun. June 5, 1864

Went on picket all the co 15 on capt post had a good time cloudy and

thundering all day wrote letter home[38]



June 5th, 1865: Henry David Thomason (b. June 5, 1865),[39]



Henry David Thomason is the 7th cousin 4x removed of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



June 5, 1935: Alexander von Linsingen explained


Alexander von Linsingen


Lived:

February 10, 1850 —


Placeofbirth:

Hildesheim, Germany


Placeofdeath:

Hannover, Germany


Allegiance:

Germany


Serviceyears:

1968–1918


Rank:

Generaloberst


Awards:

Pour le Mérite mit Eichenlaub


Alexander Adolf August Karl von Linsingen (1850-1935) was one of the best German field commanders during World War I.

Linsingen joined the Prussian Army in 1868 and rose to Corps Commander in 1909. He was one of the very few top German generals not to have served on the general staff.

At the beginning of World War I, Linsingen was a Corps commander in the First Battle of the Marne. Transferred to the Eastern Front where German and Austrian armies were threatened by a Russian offensive in Galicia, Linsingen took command of Army Group South (1915). He defeated the Russian armies in the Battle of Stryi in 1915, capturing 60,000 Russian prisoners. He was awarded the Pour le Mérite. In 1916 he faced the Brusilov offensive. After an initial retreat, he checked the Russian advance near Kovel. He was promoted to Colonel-General, the highest rank for a general in the German Army. In 1917-1918 he led the German offense to Ukraine. After the end of the war with Russia, he became the Military Governor of Berlin (1918). Under the Nazis, outraged by their racist policies, Linsingen who was a Christian but of Jewish descent, demonstratively joined the Union of Jewish War Veterans. Alexander von Linsingen died on June 5, 1935 and is interned at the Neuen St. Nikolai-Friedhof in Hannover, Germany.[40]





June 5, 1940: The German Army invades France.[41]




June 5, 1942:

The night of June 4-5 set the stage for the rest of the battle, though its consequences weren't fully realized until June 6. First, shortly after 1800, Spruance notified Fletcher of the attack on Hiryu, asking if Fletcher had further instructions. Recognizing that he could not effectively fight a carrier battle from the bridge of a cruiser, Fletcher yielded tactical command to Spruance: "Negative. Will conform to your movements."

Spruance's instincts in commanding surface forces took over. Despite the pounding the enemy's carriers had taken, their powerful surface forces remained unharmed. Outnumbered and outclassed in every category of big-gun ship, Spruance could not risk a night engagement. At 1915, Task Force 16 and the remainder of Task Force 17 turned due east, away from the Japanese and Midway, and then due north at midnight. Shortly after midnight, a surface radar contact caused mild alarm, but nothing came of it. At 0420, the ships turned southwest and again approached Midway. Spruance considered a fifth enemy carrier - or a carrier revived from the previous day's attacks - a possibility. An enemy landing on the atoll remained a threat as well.

Remarkably, on the evening of June 4 occupation of Midway still seemed viable to the Japanese as well. To say that Japanese estimates of the situation were confused would be an understatement. Contact reports received that afternoon and evening identified five US cruisers and one carrier, burning; then five cruisers and five carriers, all burning; then one carrier afire and four others untouched. According to some reports, the US fleet was heading west, towards the Japanese. According to others, the fleet was withdrawing to the east. Nagumo, understandably discouraged by the day's events, was effectively relieved at about 2130, when Fleet Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto - desperate to salvage victory - ordered Nagumo to withdraw and protect Hiryu, and directed Vice Admiral Nobutake Kondo - commanding the cruisers and battleships in the Midway Occupation Force - to take command of the surface ships in Nagumo's force and destroy the Americans in a night engagement. Yamamoto also directed a submarine - I-168, which we will encounter again - and four cruisers under Rear Admiral Takeo Kurita to approach and bombard Midway in the early morning.

These orders were issued at 2030, June 4. Within a few hours, Yamamoto was having second thoughts. His plans would place his heavy ships within easy range of Midway- and carrier-based US aircraft in the morning, with no air protection of their own. In fact, none of the Japanese forces arrayed against Midway could enjoy air support until June 7, when light carriers Ryujo and Junyo, hastily recalled from the Aleutians operation, would be on the scene. Realizing the futility of pressing on, Yamamoto cancelled the Midway bombardment shortly after midnight, June 5. At 0255, he ordered a general withdrawal.[42]

The Japanese debacle had not yet ended. At 0342, June 5, the US submarine Tambor SS-198 startled Kurita's cruisers, which were then 90 miles west of Midway, retiring westward. In executing an emergency turn away from the sub, cruiser Mogami rammed her sistership Mikuma, buckling Mogami's bow and opening Mikuma's fuel tanks to the sea. By dawn, the two damaged cruisers, screened by two destroyers, were making 14 knots, a long slick of oil from Mikuma trailing behind them.

At dawn, June 5, Task Force 16 was steaming westward at 15 knots. In thick weather, and with too few SBDs to both scout and mount a strike, Spruance gave his airmen a well-deserved rest, while waiting for contact reports from Midway's planes. At 0700, Spruance received Tambor's report of "many unidentified ships" from earlier that morning. With a Japanese landing on Midway seemingly in the offing, Task Force 16 increased speed to 25 knots and proceeded to pass north of Midway. An hour later, a Midway-based PBY reported a damaged carrier with two battleships and three cruisers retiring to the northwest. As the morning wore on, an enemy assault on Midway seemed less likely, so Spruance turned northwest, to pursue the reported carrier.



"Incontestable Mastery of the Air" - Hornet dive-bombers attack Japanese cruisers near the end of the Battle of Midway, June 6, 1942.


With the trail growing cold, in Enterprise, CDR Browning proposed launching all available Dauntlesses at 1400, armed with 1000-pound bombs, to attack the enemy carrier. The airmen, catching wind of the plan, revolted. Their objection was not to the attack itself, but to the 240 mile gap estimated to lie between TF-16 and the enemy. Lugging a 1000-pound bomb, there was no hope the SBDs would have enough fuel to return to their carriers. A tense moment followed on the Flag bridge: Enterprise Air Group Commander McClusky supported by VS-6 Commander Earl Gallaher and Enterprise Captain George D. Murray, confronted Browning in front of RADM Spruance. In the end, Spruance overrode Browning, telling McClusky, "I will do what you pilots want."

The plan was modified to launch the strike at 1500, with the SBDs carrying 500-pound bombs. Once again, Hornet was not kept fully apprised of the plans, and was not quite ready to launch when the first of 32 SBDs - planes from both Enterprise and Yorktown squadrons - rumbled down the Big E's flight deck at 1512. By 1543, however, groups from both carriers were in the air and cruising northwest.

The mission itself was inconsequential. Failing to find the reported carrier, first Hornet's and then Enterprise's attack groups dove on destroyer Tanikaze. Tanikaze zigzagged furiously and fired "a large volume of small caliber and anti-aircraft fire." Not a hit was scored, a credit to the destroyer's commander, CDR Motoi Katsumi. In Enterprise's group, LT Samuel Adams of Scouting Five was shot down, with his gunner Joseph Karrol, ARM 2/c: a high price to pay for no good end.

The attack groups didn't return to Task Force 16 until after nightfall. Much has been said of Marc Mitscher's decision to "turn on the lights" late June 20, 1944, the end of the Battle of the Philippine Sea. Mitscher commanded Hornet at Midway, and he may have later been inspired by Spruance's actions on June 5, 1942. Normally, warships operated in complete darkness at night: the glow of a cigarette was enough to alert a submarine to a ship's presence. But on this night, Spruance endeared himself to his aviators by ordering TF-16 to illuminate the ships, so the Dauntlesses could land. Enterprise recovered four more SBDs than it had launched. Five from Hornet landed on the Big E, while Hornet took in one Scouting Six bomber. There was not a single accident, though many of the pilots were not qualified for night landings.


Battle's End

The night of June 5-6, Task Force 16 steamed west-northwest, arriving at a position 340 miles northwest of Midway by dawn. Operating close to the limits of Midway's search planes, Spruance now depended on his own scouts to find the retreating enemy. At 0510, Enterprise launched 18 SBDs - including planes from VS-6, VB-3, and the five Hornet SBDs - to search westward out to 200 miles. At 0645, a Hornet SBD reported an enemy battleship, accompanied by a cruiser and three destroyers, steaming slowly west. (Poor transmission caused the report to be received as one carrier and five destroyers.) Forty-five minutes later, a second Hornet SBD dropped a message on Enterprise's flight deck, reporting two heavy cruisers and two destroyers, in approximately the same position as the earlier report.

This time, Hornet was the first to launch, and on Saturday, June 6, her airmens' luck changed. Launching at 0757, Hornet put 25 Dauntlesses in the air, eight armed with 500-pound bombs, the rest with 1000-pounders. At 0930, Hornet Air Group commander CDR Stanhope Ring located the enemy ships, and at 0950 initiated the attack. His victims were the hapless cruisers Mogami and Mikuma.

Mogami took two bomb hits in this first attack, Mikuma several more. As Hornet recovered her strike at 1035, Enterprise prepared to launch her own: 31 Dauntless dive bombers, accompanied by the last three Torpedo Six Devastators, and an escort of 12 VF-6 Wildcats. Spruance, while convinced the torpedo planes could inflict critical damage on the enemy ships, could not accept further losses.Accordingly he instructed LT(jg) Robert Laub, who was to command VT-6, "if there is one single gun firing out there, under no circumstances are you to attack."

Enterprise's attack got underway at 1045. Led by LT Wallace Short of Yorktown's Scouting Five, the group passed over what appeared to be two cruisers and two destroyers at noon. After flying on another 30 miles in search of the non-existent battleships, Short turned back and commenced attack on the cruisers - Mogami and Mikuma - at 1215. Again Mogami absorbed two hits, but Mikuma took at least five, leaving her dead in the water, her topside utterly wrecked. Fighting Six got in the action as well, making repeated strafing runs on the destroyers, expending 4000 rounds of ammunition and "knocking off huge pieces of metal". Laub's three torpedo planes hung back and never attacked. All three returned safely to the Big E.



The Japanese cruiser Mikuma sinking following multiple attacks by Enterprise and Hornet dive-bombers, June 6,1942.


As Enterprise and Hornet worked over the Japanese cruisers, I-168, the enemy submarine ordered to shell Midway early June 5 found Yorktown. By this time, a little after noon, June 6, things were looking up for the hard-hit carrier. Since the evening of June 4, Hughes DD-410 had stood by her, ready to torpedo the carrier should she be at risk of capture by the Japanese. The morning of June 5, Hughes reported the carrier appeared salvageable, and by 1426, Yorktown was under tow by the minesweeper Vireo AM-52. As the day wore on, a salvage party, led by Yorktown's Captain Buckmaster, arrived, boarded the ship, and began stripping her of equipment to reduce her list. Additional destroyers, including Hammann DD-412 arrived to cover her withdrawal.

By 1237, June 6, I-168 had slipped to within 500 yards of the carrier, which made only three knots in tow by the straining Vireo. Poor acoustical conditions impeded the sonar equipment aboard the destroyers, enabling I-168 to fire four torpedoes at about 1334. One torpedo missed, one caught Hammann amidships and broke her in half, while the last two ripped open Yorktown's battered port side. The damage was more than the salvage crew could overcome, and at 0458, June 7, Yorktown - sistership of Enterprise and Hornet - rolled over and settled beneath the waves.

Even as I-168 delivered the fatal blow to Yorktown, Hornet again struck at the wrecked enemy cruisers, launching 24 SBDs armed with 1000-lb bombs which attacked at 1445. Shortly afterwards, Enterprise launched her last mission of the battle, two SBDs equipped with cameras, to photograph the enemy ships. Mogami managed to escape, eventually reaching Truk, and out of action for over a year. The SBDs found Mikuma settling quickly: the photos they took rank among the best known of the Pacific War.


The Consequences

Shortly after the final attacks on Mikuma, Spruance concluded it would be best to break off pursuit of the enemy, as he would soon be in range of enemy planes based on Wake Island. At 1900, Task Force 16, its ships full of exhausted but victorious aviators and sailors, turned east, first to rendezvous with oilers, and then to proceed southeast to Pearl Harbor, arriving late June 13.

For a number of reasons, the decisive role that Enterprise and the US Navy played at Midway remained under-appreciated for some time. Stories of the Army Air Force's exploits during the battle reached the news media first. Despite the fact that not a single hit was scored by the AAF's bombers, initially they received much of the credit for the destruction of Nagumo's carriers. Only time and the lifting of the veils of secrecy and censorship would reveal the facts.

The Army and Marine planes based at Midway deserve full credit for their attacks on the enemy carriers, and the disruption they caused. Yet at twenty minutes past ten, the morning of June 4, 1942, dive bombers from Enterprise and Yorktown found four undamaged enemy carriers, preparing to launch a powerful attack against the US fleet. Six minutes later, three of those carriers were infernos. Enterprise destroyed two enemy carriers in those six minutes, Yorktown one. Aviators from both carriers, flying from Enterprise, destroyed the fourth carrier later that same day.

In no other battle was Enterprise so instrumental in forging decisive victory as she was at Midway. In no other battle did Enterprise - or arguably any other US Navy ship - deliver in a single blow such a stunning reversal to Japanese fortune.

Midway was a brilliant, inspired and fortuitous victory for the United States. In a single stroke, the US Navy, assisted by the Marines and the Army Air Force, essentially "leveled the playing field" in the Pacific. But the battle was not - as it is frequently referred to - the turning point of the war in the Pacific. The moment when the tide of fortunes would turn irreversibly in the Allies favor was still many months away. The decision would be reached in the South Pacific, on New Guinea, and on a then-unfamiliar island at the eastern end of the Solomon Islands, named Guadalcanal.

Beginning in August 1942, six months of brutal land and naval battles would bloody Guadalcanal and the surrounding seas. In those six months, no other US carrier would be more heavily engaged than Enterprise.[43]

Uncle Howard Snell was on board the Enterprise.



June 5, 1942: The document bearing the number XXVb indicates that the first five deportation convoys (March 27, June 5, 22, 25 and 28, 1942) represented anti-Jewish reprisal measures and therefore include French citizens. In the future, thanks to an agreement with Vichy, convoys of thousands of stateless, Polish, Czech, and Russan Jews would leave from the unoccupied zone. [44]



June 5, 1953:



Jeff,



Thanks for the response. He was definitely a Cohen. I have a copy of a letter writen to the Gottlober family by a Los Angeles Rabbi Rabbi F.E. Rottenberg dated June 5, 1953. He sent a page from a book published in the 1880's in Warsaw. It was a picture of "five founders of modern Hebrew poetry and literature".Number five is listed in Hebrew letters as "Abraham Ber Hacohen Gottlober", Which would translate as" Abraham Baer the Cohen Gottlober."



Bill Nemoyten


Bill, Thank you for sharing this important information. First of all to be selected as one of the "five founders of modern Hebrew poetry and literature" is quite an honor. Honestly this does not surprise me based on the small amount of translated pieces of his works that I have read. His words really do jump off the page. I believe the greatness of a writer is their ability to transcend time, and Abraham Ber Hacohen Gottlober's work surely does. Secondly, his being a Cohen only underlines the DNA Cohen Modal Haplotype that all the Goodlove's, Godloves and many others that are DNA matches have. That we all have a common ancestry and are somehow connected at one point, even though some of our recent past has seemingly disappeared. We now have hope, through the miracle of DNA to reconnect, and through the writings of Abraham Ber Hacohen Gottlober we can see what life was like before. Thank you for sharing. I look forward to hearing more. Jeff Goodlove



June 5, 1961: USS Scamp (SSN-588) James Kirby, Sonar




Career

Name:

USS Scamp


Ordered:

July 23, 1957


Builder:

Mare Island Naval Shipyard


Laid down:

January 23, 1959


Launched:

October 8, 1960


Commissioned:

June 5, 1961


Decommissioned:

April 28, 1988


Struck:

April 28, 1988


Honors and
awards:

Three campaign stars for Vietnam War service


Fate:

Entered the Submarine Recycling Program in 1990


General characteristics


Class and type:

Skipjack-class submarine


Displacement:

2,830 long tons (2,880 t) surfaced
3,500 long tons (3,600 t) submerged


Length:

232 ft (71 m)


Beam:

32 ft (9.8 m)


Draft:

30 ft 5 in (9.27 m)


Propulsion:

1 × S5W reactor
2 × Westinghouse steam turbines, 15,000 shp (11 MW)
1 shaft


Speed:

More than 20 knots (23 mph; 37 km/h)


Complement:

83 officers & men


Armament:

6 × 21 in (530 mm) torpedo tubes



Service record


Part of:

US Seventh Fleet


Operations:

Vietnam War


Awards:

3 Battle stars


For other ships of the same name, see USS Scamp.

USS Scamp (SSN-588), a Skipjack-class nuclear-powered submarine, was the second ship of the United States Navy to be named for the scamp, a member of the serranidae family of fish.

Her keel was laid down on January 23, 1959 at Mare Island Naval Shipyard in Vallejo, California. She was launched on October 8, 1960, sponsored by Mrs. John C. Hollingsworth, widow of Commander John C. Hollingsworth, the commanding officer of Scamp (SS-277) at the time of her loss in November 1944. She was commissioned at Mare Island on June 5, 1961 with Commander W. N. Dietzen in command. [45]

June 5, 1961: USS SCAMP was the second SKIPJACK - class nuclear-powered attack submarine and the second ship in the Navy to be named after the fish. Both decommissioned and stricken from the Navy list on April 28, 1988, the SCAMP later entered the Navy’s Nuclear Powered Ship and Submarine Recycling Program at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, Bremerton, Wash., and finished it on September 30, 1991.



General Characteristics: Awarded: July 23, 1957

Keel laid: January 23, 1959

Launched: October 8, 1960

Commissioned: June 5, 1961

Decommissioned: April 28, 1988

Builder: Mare Island Naval Shipyard, Vallejo, Calif.

Propulsion system: one S5W nuclear reactor

Propellers: one

Length: 251.64 feet (76.7 meters)

Beam: 31.5 feet (9.6 meters)

Draft: 27.9 feet (8.5 meters)

Displacement: Surfaced: approx. 2,880 tons Submerged: approx. 3,500 tons

Speed: Surfaced: approx. 15 knots Submerged: approx. 30 knots

Armament: six 533 mm torpedo tubes

Crew: 8 Officers, 85 Enlisted [46]

James Kirby was the father in law of Jeffery Lee Goodlove



June 5, 1967: The Six-Day War begins as the Israeli Air Force conducts raids, destroying most of Egypt’s, Jordan’s, and Syria’s air forces.[47]



June 5, 2012: Navy marks Midway’s 70th anniversary

By: The Associated Press - Sentinel-Record





MIDWAY COMMEMORATION: WWII Battle of Midway veteran Henry Kudzik, 87, of Bethlehem, Pa., right, holds a photograph of a sinking destroyer, next to fellow veterans including Howard Snell, of Kingman, Ariz., during a Battle of Midway 70th Commemoration ceremony at the U.S. Navy Memorial in Washington ...[48]

Navy marks Battle of Midway's 70th anniversary

Tuesday, June 05, 2012



WWII Battle of Midway veteran Henry Kudzik, 87, of Bethlehem, Pa., right, holds a photograph of a sinking destroyer, next to fellow veterans including Howard Snell, of Kingman, Ariz., during a Battle of Midway 70th Commemoration ceremony at the U.S. Navy Memorial in Washington, Monday, June 4, 2012. (AP Photo/Jacquelyn Martin)

Associated Press

PEARL HARBOR, Hawaii (AP) - June 5, 2012 (WPVI) -- Six months after the devastating attack on Pearl Harbor, Japan sent four aircraft carriers to the tiny Pacific atoll of Midway to draw out and destroy what remained of the U.S. Pacific Fleet.

But this time the U.S. knew about Japan's plans. U.S. cryptologists had cracked Japanese communications codes, giving Fleet Commander Adm. Chester Nimitz notice of where Japan would strike, the day and time of the attack, and what ships the enemy would bring to the fight.

The U.S. was badly outnumbered and its pilots less experienced than Japan's. Even so, it sank four Japanese aircraft carriers the first day of the three-day battle and put Japan on the defensive, greatly diminishing its ability to project air power as it had in the attack on Hawaii.

On Monday, current Pacific Fleet commander, Adm. Cecil Haney and other officials flew 1,300 miles northwest from Oahu to Midway to mark the 70th anniversary of the pivotal battle that changed the course of the Pacific war.

"Historians are still writing about it, military planners are still studying it, and we cherish the opportunity to commemorate it," Haney said.

Midway is now a National Wildlife Refuge hosting more than one million seabirds. Navy photos of the ceremony show an honor guard standing at attention next to a field of ground-nesting Laysan albatross and other seabirds.

Haney and two veterans from the battle were among 150 people at the ceremony, which included releasing leis and flower petals in a small boat to honor those who died in the battle.

The veterans also took part in a ribbon-cutting for an exhibit at the refuge memorializing the battle.

"After the battle of Midway we always maintained the initiative and for the remaining three years of the war, the Japanese reacted to us," Vice Adm. Michael Rogers, commander of the U.S. Fleet Cyber Command, told a crowd gathered outside Nimitz's old office at Pearl Harbor on Friday to commemorate the role naval intelligence played in the events of June 4-7, 1942.

"It all started really in May of 1942 with station Hypo (the Combat Intelligence Unit at Pearl Harbor) and the work of some great people working together to try to understand what were the Japanese thinking, what were they going to do," Rogers said Friday.

Intelligence wasn't the only reason for U.S. victory.

The brave heroics by dive bomber pilots, Japanese mistakes and luck all played a role. But Nimitz himself observed that the code-breaking was critical to the outcome, said retired Rear Adm. Mac Showers, the last surviving member of the intelligence team that deciphered Japanese messages.

"His statement a few days later was 'had it not been for the excellent intelligence that was provided, we would have read about the capture of Midway in the morning newspaper,'" said Showers said in an interview.

Japan's vessels outnumbered U.S. ships 4-to-1, Japan's aviators had more experience, and its Zero fighter planes could easily outmaneuver U.S. aircraft.

But Japan, unlike the U.S., had little knowledge of what its enemy was doing.

Japanese commanders believed a U.S. task force was far away in the Solomon Islands. Then, as June 4 neared and Nimitz prepared his troops, Japanese commanders failed to recognize signs of increased military activity around Hawaii as an indication the U.S. had uncovered their plans to attack Midway, the site of a small U.S. base.

The U.S. lost one carrier, 145 planes and 307 men. Japan lost four aircraft carriers, a heavy cruiser, 291 planes and 4,800 men, according to the U.S. Navy and to an account by former Japanese naval officers in "Midway: The Battle That Doomed Japan, the Japanese Navy's Story."

The defeat was so overwhelming that the Japanese navy kept the details a closely guarded secret and most Japanese never heard of the battle until after the war.

Nimitz got his intelligence from Showers and a few dozen others relentlessly analyzing Japanese code in the basement of a Pearl Harbor administrative building.

Japanese messages were written using 45,000 five-digit numbers representing phrases and words.

The cryptographers had to figure out what the numbers said without the aid of computers.

"In order to read the messages, we had to recover the meaning of each one of those code groups. The main story of our work was recovering code group meanings one-by-painful-one," Showers said.

At the time of the Dec. 7, 1941, attack on Pearl Harbor, they understood a small fraction of the messages. By May 1942, they could make educated guesses.

A key breakthrough came when they determined Japan was using the letters "AF" to refer to Midway.

Showers said Cmdr. Joseph Rochefort, the team's leader, and Nimitz were confident the letters referred to the atoll. But Adm. Ernest King, the Navy's top commander, wanted to be sure before he allowed Nimitz to send the precious few U.S. aircraft carriers out to battle.

So Nimitz had the patrol base at Midway send a message to Oahu saying the island's distillation plant was down, and it urgently needed fresh water. Soon after, both an intelligence team in Australia and Rochefort's unit picked up a Japanese message saying "AF" had a water shortage.

Showers was an ensign in the office, having just joined the Navy. He analyzed code deciphered by cryptographers, plotted ships on maps of the Pacific, and filed information.

Now 92 and living in Arlington, Va., the Iowa City, Iowa, native went on to a career in intelligence. He served on Nimitz's staff on Guam toward the end of the war, and returned later to Pearl Harbor for stints leading the Pacific Fleet's intelligence effort. After the Navy, he worked for the Central Intelligence Agency.

Showers said commanders weren't always as open to using intelligence to plan their course of attack the way Nimitz was. Some were suspicious of it.

But Midway changed that.

"It used to be a lot of people thought intelligence was something mysterious and they didn't believe in it and they didn't have to pay attention to it. Admiral Nimitz was fortunately what we call intelligence-friendly," Showers said.

(Copyright ©2012 WPVI-TV/DT. All Rights Reserved.)[49]







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[1] The One Year Chronology Bible, NIV, page 1100.


[2] http://thisdayinjewishhistory.blogspot.com/


[3] http://thisdayinjewishhistory.blogspot.com/


[4] Timetable of major worldwide volcanic activity, Wikipedia


[5] mike@abcomputers.com


[6] http://news.yahoo.com/wet-climate-may-fueled-mongol-invasion-174809996.html


[7] Wikipedia


[8] http://thisdayinjewishhistory.blogspot.com/


[9] Wikipedia


[10] Torrence and Allied Families, Robert M. Torrence, pg 322


[11] Torrence and Allied Families, Robert M. Torrence, pgs 322-323


[12] Torrence and Allied Families, Robert M. Torrence pg 323


[13] Ref 31.6 Conrad and Caty, by Gary Goodlove, Author Unknown


[14] Ancestry.com


[15] His executors produced his will in the County Court of Frederick at Winchester, Virginia, on June 5th, the same year(1765). This leaves a gap of two months from the date of the will, until it was proved; during which time the shroud of death crept over the Stephenson home. Once again, Honor Stephenson felt the pangs of widowhood, as the family laid their husband and father to rest. Needless to say, the family graves generally are found in a burial plot, on the plantations or farms of early America and this family would be no exception. As stated before, there is a burial plot on the Stephenson homestead, but the inscriptions are not legible and very little evidence is left.

(From River Clyde to Tymochtee and Col. William Crawford by Grace U. Emahiser, 1969, page 72.)


[16] From River Clyde to Tymochtee and Col. William Crawford by Grace U. Emahiser, 1969, page 72.


[17] www.frontierfolk.net/ramsha_research/families/Stephenson.rtf


[18] http://www.nndb.com/people/948/000068744/




[19] Quartermaster Zinn of the von Donop Regiment: Enemy Views, by Bruce E. Burgoyne pg. 149.


[20] Enemy Mine, Bruce Burgoyne pg 150


[21] Proposed Descendants of William Smith.


[22] Brigadier General John Glover was born at Salem, Mass., on November 5, 1732. There is no record of where John Glover was “made a Mason,” but documents in the archives of the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts name him and his brothers Samuel and Johnhathan in “A List of Brothers before the Opening of the Lodge in Barblehead and belonging to the Same Town.” That ladge, constituted March 25, 1760, received its charter on January 14, 1778, and its present name, Philanthropic Lodge, on June 12, 1797 under Grand Master Paul Revere. In January 1775, the Marblehead Regiment of Minutemen elected Glover 2nd Lt. Colonel, its third ranking officer, and its weekly drills sharply increased. With the unexpected death of its Commander in April, Glover assumed command of the regiment. The Marblehead men were fishing on the Grand Banks when “the shot heard round the world” was fired at Lexington and Concord. On their return Col. Glover’s recruiting efforts soon raised a regiment of 505 officers and men,, all but seven being “Headers.” The Northern Light, November 1982, Vol. 13, “George Washington’s Amphibious Commander”, Vol. 13, No. 5, page 14.


[23] About Massachusetts Soldiers and Sailors in the War of the Revolution, 17 Vols.Prepared by the Secretary of the Commonwealth, this is an indexed compilation of the records of the Massachusetts soldiers and sailors who served in the army or navy during the...


[24] At dusk 140 Shawnee troops bearing a red banner (“standard”) rode into view on the common roads from the south. (Rose in his journal states that 150 Shawness arrived. John Turney, then commanding the British rangers, reported 140 reinforcements in his letter to Detroit ttwo days later.) Advanceing in three columns, the new arrivals camped west of the road near a marsh. A single sentinel was stationed in the marsh itself. These reinforcements closed substantially the enemy circle; the only gap was a half mile where the road ran south from the woods. To the right of that road Delaware troops were camped, and from there around the woods on the north and west Wyandots and groups of Lake Indians kept watch. The British rangers fought from the woods opposite the end of the lightly-timbered leg occupied by American militia and a few advance pociets of Indians. (Here I draw on circumstantial evidence in the Journal of Private Michael Walters and Turney’s June 7 letter-report to De Peyster. (The Sandusky Expedition, Parker B. Brown, 1988)


[25] The belief that Crawford, Slover and Knight had abandoned the army to their fate persisted for many years among some of the survivors, even though it later became widely known what had actually transpired.


[26] That Dark and Bloodly River, Allan W. Eckert


[27] Narrative by Dr. Knight.


[28] The Brothers Crawford, Allen w. Scholl, 1995


[29] Dan Reinhart


[30] Journal of a Volunteer Expedition to Sandusky, Baron Rosenthal, “John Rose”.


[31] Journal of a Volunteer Expedition to Sandusky, Von Pilchau


[32] Narrative by Dr. Knight.


[33] Narrative of John Slover


[34] http://thisdayinjewishhistory.blogspot.com/


[35] Timetable of Cherokee Removal.


[36] Timetable of Cherokee Removal.


[37] On This Day in America by John Wagman.


[38] William Harrison Goodlove Civil War Diary annotated by Jeffery Lee Goodlove


[39] Proposed Descendants of William Smythe


[40] unknown


[41] On This Day in America by John Wagman.


[42] http://www.cv6.org/1942/midway/midway_4.htm


[43] http://www.cv6.org/1942/midway/midway_5.htm


[44] Memorial to the Jews Deprted from France 1942-1944 by Serge Klarsfeld, page 35.




[45] This article incorporates text from the public domain Dictionary of American Naval Fighting Ships. The entry can be found here.Skipjack-class submarine:


•Skipjack
•Scamp
•Scorpion
•Sculpin
•Shark
•Snook












[46] http://navysite.de/ssn/ssn588.htm


[47] On This Day in America by John Wagman.


[48] http://www.hotsr.com/news/2012/06/05/navy-marks-midway-s-70th-anniversary-522339.php


[49] http://abclocal.go.com/wpvi/story?id=8689568