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Preface
    Phebe Tucker Cunningham is my fraternal fifth great-grandmother, and I first learned of her story in the early 1980s when reading a series of genealogical monograms written in 1979 by my great-uncle Colvin Snider. I found the story fascinating and one that only grew more so with the passage of time. Then, in May 2012, I had a chance to visit Prickett’s Fort, near Fairmont, West Virginia, the site of Phebe’s marriage to Thomas Cunningham. It was a beautiful, warm spring day, and my visit coincided with a workshop for musicians who played early American instruments sponsored by the Prickett’s Fort Memorial Foundation. As I wandered about the fort’s grounds and listened to the wonderful music being played by those attending the workshop, I found myself imagining what Phebe and Thomas’s wedding must have been like, thinking that it was almost certainly a joyous day. In turn, I also pondered the unforeseen tragedy and challenges that lay ahead for both of them. At that moment, Phebe started to become someone other than just a name on the family tree, and the idea for this book had its genesis.
    Later, as the book was underway, I decided to seek out the location of Phebe and her husband’s frontier Virginia homestead. However, all I had that provided a clue as to its location was a bad Xerox copy of a photo my great-uncle had taken in the 1970s of a monument that marked the farm’s site and a rough description made by another ancestor in a book written in the late nineteenth century. Using those two small pieces of evidence, I turned to a tool of the twenty-first century: satellite imagery. Using a commercial image, I scanned down the road discussed in the book, looking for some sign of the stone marker. As I peered closely at the image, I finally found a small object indicated by its shadow at a curve in the road located about where my ancestor had described. Armed with that evidence and some hope, I set out for West Virginia, where I found the monument exactly where I thought it might be.
    As I stood there, I was overcome by emotion, especially when I touched the sandstone rock on which the memorial plaque rests. The stone came from a cave where Wyandot warriors hid Phebe and her infant son, as friends and neighbors searched in vain for them. I closed my eyes, and I could imagine her kneeling on the cave floor, holding her baby close to her breast as a warrior stood over her, ominously holding a tomahawk at the ready. I also could imagine what she must have been feeling: hope that her people would rescue her mixed with intense fear that her captors might kill her and her little boy before that rescue would come. At that moment, Phebe became a very real person to me and one whose story I was committed to telling.
    I had always found Phebe’s story to be tragic, inspiring and utterly compelling. She was clearly a woman of remarkable courage and determination, and I wanted to share what I could learn about her experience as well as the world that shaped not only her life and but also the lives of everyone who lived on the colonial frontier. Therefore, my approach to this book involved telling Phebe’s story by also painting a broader picture of the people, politics, wars and events that led to the raid on the Cunningham farm and her three years as a member of the Wyandot tribe in central Ohio.
    To make this story complete, however, I also knew that I needed to describe the culture and society of the Native Americans who lived on the Allegheny Plateau and in the great Ohio Country beyond its borders. As I researched and studied these peoples, often referred to as the woodland Indians, I realized what a key element they were in Phebe’s story. While I had some knowledge of the western plains nations, particularly the Comanche, I found these peoples to be very different and the Wyandot, with whom Phebe lived, to be especially remarkable. Of course, most early works on these Native American peoples, including