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Mary (Lewis) Kinnan (1763 - 1848)

Mary "Polly" Kinnan formerly Lewis
Born in Basking Ridge,Somerset County,New Jerseymap
Ancestors ancestors
Wife of — married 8 Jan 1778 [location unknown]
Died at age 84 in Basking Ridge,Somerset County,New Jerseymap
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Profile last modified | Created 16 Nov 2010
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This person was created through the import of rsturley20100927.ged on 16 November 2010.

This person was created through the import of Lewis2011.ged on 09 May 2011.

Contents

Biography

In 1787 Joseph and Mary, with their 3 ch., left Bask­ ing Ridge, N.J. for western Va. In 1790-91 her younger brother, Jacob, was visiting then there when, on the evening of 13 May1791, three Indians entered the cabin. One shot Joseph, one of his young daughters and the child of a visit­ing neighbor. Jacob and the two older children escaped and ran for help, but Mary was captured and her youngest child killed. The Indians eventually took Mary to a place near Detroit, Mich., where she managed to send a letter via an Indian trader to Jacob in Basking Ridge, N.J. (Apparent­ ly American and British military groups in that area were too occupied with their own problems to provide any assist­ance. Traders only offered to carry out letters. Any rescue would have to be contrived by her own family.)

When Jacob received the letter he rode horseback to the vicinity of the Indian settlement near the western end of Lake Erie, where he managed to arrange for Mary's escape. He got her back to Basking Ridge on 11 Oct 179M, after more than 3 years in captivity.

At least a dozen versions of Mary (Lewis) Kinnan's ordeal have been written, including one of her own that accompanied her pension application. A summary of these is in "The Indian Captivity of Mary Kinnan, 1791-1794", compiled by a descendant, McKinnie L. Phelps (1967). [1][2]

Burial

Basking Ridge Presbyterian Church, Basking Ridge, Somerset County, New Jersey[3]

A Version of the Story

Vada Forbes[4] made several hand written copies of a diary in a set of duplicate day books containing outlines of the Ingram families. The diary is currently lost but was last known to be in the possession of Rachel and Darwin Barnes ("Barney") and there is a possibility that Barney may have passed since then to the family of Larry Fox. The origin of the story can't be confirmed, although it reads like a newspaper story, but is relayed as copied down by Vada. See her attribution at the end. The spelling and punctuation has been preserved somewhat.

The Story of Polly Kennan
Near to the fence that encloses the cemetery surrounding the Basking Ridge Presbyterian Church, and in full view from the street that leads from the railroad station to the village stands a small marble head-stone bearing the following inscription.
In memory of
Mary
Wife of
Joseph Kennan
Who departed this life
March 18, 1848
In the 85th year of her age
Mary Lewis the second child and oldest daughter of Zephaniah Lewis and Ann Doty, whoes ancestors came over in the Mayflower, her father (Zephaniah) is believed to be a lineal descendant of Col. Augustine Warner, the ancestor of the Washington's, for such is the tradition.
Mrs. Kidd the granddaughter of Mary Lewis Kennan, who is now living in N.J. at the age of 80 years tells with pride, "that on one occasion when his larder was particularly well supplied, he invited her to dine with him," probably about the winter of 1770 or 1777, when he was with the American army at Morristown.
Basking Ridge is about 8 miles distant, the latter winter Gen. Greene had his headquarters at the Sterline Mansion, but a short ride from her home. Two years later, though not yet sixteen, she had been married a year. Of her husband Joseph Kennan, who led her to the altar on Jan. 8, 1778, while she was yet in her 15th year, we know little, but it is asserted that their marriage was a happy one.
After living near Basking Ridge several years, they moved to Tygart Valley, Randolf Co. Va. It was during the 14th year of their married life, that the day of the tragedy occurred. As an explanation of the dastardly deed we are to, record, it is said that the previous owners of the place had been guilty of some offence, and their vengeance fell upon entirely innocent parties.
It was about harvest time the summer of 1791. On the evening of this eventful day, Mr. Lewis a brother of Mrs. Kennan, who was at the time visiting her, was sleeping in a room apart, being wearied from his labors.
While Mr. Kennan with the rest of the family were awaiting supper, in the living room, and Mrs. Kennan was just outside the door churning, without warning the door opened and 3 Indians entered the room.
Mr. Kennan spoke cordially to them, but one of them leveld his gun and shot him dead. Great excitment followed. A young man sizing the only weapon at hand, a drawing knife, struck at one of the intruders, but failing to inflict any injury, rushed from the house to alarm the neighbors. The children rushed out some through windows, some through doors, and one hid in a cupboard.
Jacob Lewis was awakened and also hastened away leaving his sister Mrs. Kennan alone, she seized her little girl and endeavored to escape, but the weight of the child impeded her, she put her over the fence, telling her to hide behind some bushes, but the child was too frightened to understand and came running and crying after her mother. A pursuing Indian seized the child by the feet and dashed her to death against a tree, this was more than the mother could stand, and seizing his gun she struck him a blow that felled him to the ground. The confusion that followed gave the other children an opportunity to effect their escape. The bravery won the admiration of the Indians and the mother was captured and held a prisoner.
After the Indians had taken the scalps of their 3 victims besides the scalp of the little girl, above mentioned and her father's, there was a neighbor's child, a Mrs. Ward's who was also killed at the same time. (She had been visiting the children)
When the Indians had taken the scalps of their 3 victims, and secured such of the household possessions as they wished to carry with them, they hastened away for it was certain they would be captured.
And strange as it may appear, she (Mrs. Kennan) came to be glad that they were not overtaken, for had they been, she never would have been secured alive, they continued on their march 6 days.
The second day she saw the cut the chicken she had been cooking, for supper the evening before, but none of it was given her, not until the next day did she have any food, and then her portion was the entrails of a wild turkey they had shot, with great consideration they showed her how to cook this portion, by holding it on a stick over the fire.
During the journey her shoes gave out, her feet became sore and she had to protect them as best she could with pieces of her apron. Her strength might have failed her entirely had not fortune, or misfortune came to her captors.
One of them was bitten by rattlesnake, and they were compelled to tarry in camp 2 weeks, until he was cured. It was on this journey she learned, it is said that the Indians at a portion of the rattlesnake, considering it a delicacy.
There is one incident connected with the journey that all my informants agree -- and a grewsome one it was, her little daughter had beautiful curly hair, but the cruel custom of the Indians spared not the head of the child, for her scalp adorned the belt of one of the "braves", when the mother was depressed or wearied byt the journey, this scalp would be produced & admired in her presence.
The story had it, that it was done to cheer her. It is stated that her captors were "Delawares." Where their home was located we may not surely know, of course it was impossible for her to understand whither she was being taken, or to imagine when she would come to an end of her life among the Indians, but she afterwards asserted that she never lost track of the day of the week, or the month, or the year, Sundays and days especially associated in her life, with experiences of joy or sorrow -- were always recalled amid the hardship she endured.
She kept her reckoning and cherished in her loneliness the memory of these landmarks of her former life, and though kept for many months thus without the opportunity of intercourse with any of her race, and compelled to adapt her life in many respects to the ways of her savage captors. She was glad to testify they did no violence to her person, when they came to their journey's end, she began to know the kind of life she would be compelled to lead.
At first, severe drudgery was the portion of her cup, she was made to understand that she must cut down a large tree, entirely unused to this sort of labor, the task seemed well nigh an impossible one, but after weary hours of effort the tree came crashing to the ground, feeling that she deserved well of her task master she pointed with pride to her triumph whe she was informed that this was preliminary to a farther task, te tree must be trimmed and cut into portions suitable for their purpose, this too in due time was accomplished, this it was proved to them she could be of real value in other ways, for she was an expert cook and handy with her needle, hence these more womanly tasks fell to her lot.
She didnot remain continuously in the possession of her first captors, for they sold her to another tribe, and being sold several times. She became a length the property of an old Indian squaw, it was evident too that she was carefully watched by day, and at night a large dog was left to guard her bed.
She learned enough of their language to live comfortably with them. And they came to look upon her as a superior being and were the less willing to have her escape, whether she learned to know the various localities in which she found a home, we do not know, but in the end she came to live, some 20 miles from Detroit.
Nearly 2 years passed before she had an opportunity to make her identity known. Then it was to an Indian trader, Robert Albert by name.
After the second meeting she was able to tell him more of her story, and she gave him a note to be sent to friends in New Jersey, being asked by the Indian when she was speaking to the trader she declared that he was ill and she was giving him milk. As this was a remedy the Indians always prescribed, the explanation seemed to have satisfied them Meanwhile the message was on its way.
At Detroit was stationed a detail of the United States Army under Col. England, there the Indian trader Albert told his story and a letter was written to friends in Basking Ridge, telling of the prisoner and her prayer for deliverance.
"Write it," she said, "just as if you were in my place," so the letter was forwarded by the first messenger departing for the States, evidently one bearing dispatches for the government.
On reaching Philadelphia, then the seat of Government, he fell a victim of yellow fever, which was raging there that year - 1793.
As a precautionary measure he clothes were buried, but not in the grave as himself. When all danger of infection was passed, the clothes were dug up and the letter found, and again started on its way.
In due time it reached its destination. It was near the close of the week when the letter was received, and on the Subday following, the strange tale it contained was told to the congregation of the Presbyterian Church and a collection was taken to befray the expenses of the long Journey. Jacob Lewis being the only unmarried brother was entrusted with the task of rescuing his sister.
Mr. Lewis reached Detroit on Feb. 3, 1794, having covered the 700 miles from Basking Ridge, in just 3 months.
After many weeks a contractor came to Detroit to secure men to cut and clear timber around Fort Miami, in Northern Ohio, so he engaged as a chopper, some weeks lalter the advance of Gen. Wayne and his army was reported at the fort, and with it a large number of Indians who camped in its neighborhood.
Wondering if his sister was among them he walked one evening with a companion of the ax, Thomas Matthews by name, through the Indian encampment. While strolling carelessly among they heard a woman clasp her hands and exclaim, "Lord have mercy on me."
Mr. Lewis though he know his sister at once, turned his back and walked quietly away, taking pains however, to observe the location of the trees in the vicinity.
Mrs. Kennan was busily at work on a moccasin, she was working when she saw her brother, and in the excitement of the moment had uttered the cry he had heard. She also knew that the exclamation would incite the curiosity of the Indians, so with wonderful presence of mind, she thrust the needle into her thumb, and showing the blood was able to quiet their apprehension. The presence of a cow, evidently owned by the old squaw, seemed a propitious circumstance, so the next morning Matthews proceeded to the tent, and called to exchange a loaf of bread for some milk. So Mrs Kennan was called upon to act as interpreter, so they were abled to arrange a plan for her escape, she was to come that night to a large tree where her brother and companion would be waiting.
But the cow was restless and by her much bawling, kept the Indians awake. Hence it was late before she could slip away - and then to her chagrin she failed to find anyone in waiting. After waiting in suspense until nearly dawn, she quietly returned to her tent.
Mr. Matthews returned with another loaf of bread, the mystery was explained, while she had gone to one tree, he and her brother had been patiently waiting at another, the next time she was more succesful, without pausing for prolonged greeting they hastened away.
Mr. Lewis did not deem it prudent to take his sister to the fort, so he took her to a hiding place he had prepared in the middle of a large heap of brush. Here provided food and water she was to remain until she could be taken from the neighborhood. The brush heap did not prove the most pleasant of hiding places, for soon the Indians appeared calling "Polly, Pretty Polly," however they failed to find the object of their search. Another and more serious danger now appeared for workmen began burning the brush heaps.
It required considerable diplomacy on the part of Lewis and Mathews to keep them from smoking their captive out of her hiding place. It was near the close of the second day that a boat called the Shawnee appeared on the river near the mouth of the Miamee[?], when the captain was apprised of the situation, he agreed to take Lewis and his sister, provided she could be gotten on board. With a hundred Indians standing around this was no easy task, but putting on a bold face, he led her through the crowd arrayed in a suit of his own clothes, and playing the part of a sick man, she was gotten safely on board, though one Indian seemed to have guessed the truth, for he shouted, "your sick man is a prisoner," and endeavored to swim out to the boat, he was too late for the Shawnee was safely moored by daylight, at Turtle Island.
Here they boarded a brig bound for Detroit. After crossing the head of the lake, they were becalmed and fearing possible evil consequences of the delay, they were put ashore on the Canada side, and made their way up along the river which they crossed over, when the city was reached, here at a tavern they found lodging, after a delay of a week, made necessary by the illness of Mr. Lewis. That first week of waiting was followed by others, until a vessel appeared bound for the mouth of the Chippewa, thus supplied with passes by Col. England.
Bidding farewell to all their friends they had made in Detroit, they started out on their journey home, they reached their journey's end with safety, the latter part of Oct. 1794, lacking only a few days of a year from the time Mr. Lewis had set out.
"There was great rejoicing in the whole family and neighborhood." Mrs. Kennan was in her 32nd. yr. when she was brought back to her home, of her childhood. As she died in her 85th. year, we can see that she lived a little over 50 yrs. after her release, she found a home with her brother Thomas who lived less than a mile south of the village, and only a short distance from the home in which Gen. Lee had been captured in 1776. As already intimated she was frequently appealed to tell her story. And for a time did it with great willingness. But in later years she felt a reluctance, to touch upon these days.
And when mere curiosity prompted the inquiry, she utterly refused to speak to them. Part of the time she devoted to nursing, and thus became an - "Angel of Mercy," to many a helpless infant - among the householders, wherein she served in this capacity.
We mention that of Rev. Wm C. Brownlee, who was pastor of the Basking Ridge Presbyterian Church from 1818 to 1825. and afterwards served the Reformed Church as Prof. of Languages, in Rutgers for a year - and then for over 20 years as Pastor of the Collegiate Church in New York City, She is said to have been precise and exacting in her manner, and yet of the most lovable disposition, she was highly respected by all who knew her. Especially so by the pastors of the Basing Ridge Church, who honored her, not only for the trying experiences of her early life, but also for the sincerity of character, that was wrought through severe chastening. It is stated that the anniversaries of her capture, were spent by herself in the seclusion of the forest.
When speaking to anyone in the open, she would instinctively place her back against a tree or other protection.
She never used salt on her vegetables, and when preparing food for others seldom supplied sufficiency of it to suit their taste.
Of her 2 sons a few words should be said.
Joseph, the elder, was possibly the one whom it is stated, that he was struck on the head by an Indian, and was never thereafter "right in his mind," however he was right enough to enlist in the army during the war of 1812, and later to apply for, and receive a pension, on which in his latter days he lived in dignified retirement, he died in 1844, being outlived by his mother 4 years, her grave adjoins his in the Basking Ridge Cemetery.
In the history of the Henderson and Somerset Counties, it is stated that Mrs. Kennan as well as her son, was in 1840, among the pensioners of the Government, their names are spelled Kinanan.
The younger son, Lewis, grew to manhood near Basking Ridge and married Jennie Morgan. Some years after they removed to the lake country, in New York State, there the remainder of his life was spent.
At the time of his death, his home was at Romulus, Seneca Co.
His daughter Fannie, now the widow of John Kidd, still lives in Elizabeth, New Jersey, being well past 80 years of age. Other descendants of the Lewis Kinnan are living, but of them I need not speak.
Mrs. Kidd states - she being the only surviving child of Lewis, the younger of the 2 boys - that they rode all the way from their home in Virginia, to Basking Ridge, New Jersey, on a horse named, "Silvertail," with their uncle Jacob Lewis, where they found homes with their uncles.
N.B - This story was copied from a book prepared for me by my Aunt Lizzie Lewis [possibly she meant Elizabeth Lewis].
Vada Alice Ingram Forbes eldest daughter of Mary Frances Lewis and James Walter Ingram.

Sources

  1. TRUE NARRATIVE OF THE SUFFERINGS OF MARY KINNAN, by Mary Kinnan, First published in Elizabethtown, 1795. Reprinted in West Virginia History
  2. Early Lewises of Northern New Jersey compiled by Ralph Kimball Potter, Lakewood, N.J., 1972
  3. Find A Grave, database and images (https://www.findagrave.com : accessed 18 January 2018), memorial page for Mary Lewis Kinnan (1763–12 Mar 1848), Find A Grave Memorial no. Find A Grave: Memorial #70839584, citing Basking Ridge Presbyterian Church Cemetery, Basking Ridge, Somerset County, New Jersey, USA ; Maintained by Celeste Simmons (contributor 47318155)
  4. Ingram and Lewises, also Story of Polly Kinnan, by Mrs. Vada Forbes




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