Dr. Barton, it is said, discovered that the word Oneida meant "Standing Stone," in the language of the Southern Indians.[ [2] The Oneida tribe of the Iroquois had a tradition that their forefathers came from the South; consequently, the tribe at Standing Stone may have been part of the Oneida tribe instead of Delawares, as was generally supposed. The Tuscaroras, according to history, came from the South and became one of the Iroquois confederation in 1712. The language of the two tribes in question, although not identical, bore a strong affinity to each other. Hence we may surmise that the characters upon the stone were understood by the Tuscaroras, and that it possessed, in their eyes, sufficient value to move it some forty or fifty miles, under what we should call disadvantageous circumstances, especially when it is known that stones of a better finish could have been found anywhere along the Juniata River.
There is no doubt at all but what the original stone was removed by the Indians and taken with them in 1754 or 1755, for it is a well-ascertained fact that the Indians in the valley, with some few exceptions, (Aughwick, for instance,) joined the French in the above years.
The first survey of the land on which Huntingdon now stands was made by Mr. Lukens, in behalf of a claimant named Crawford, in 1756. It is therein named as "George Crogan's improvement." It is not improbable that Crogan may have claimed the improved fields and site of the deserted village, but that he ever made any improvement beyond probably erecting a trading-post there is a matter of some doubt. His whole history proves that he was no improving man.
On the second stone erected were found the names of John and Charles Lukens, Thomas Smith, and a number of others, with dates varying from 1768 to 1770, cut or chiselled. This stone was most unquestionably erected, by some of the men whose names it bore, on the same spot where the original stone stood, but was subsequently removed to or near where the old court-house in Huntingdon formerly stood. This position it occupied for many years, and might still stand as a monument of the past, had not some Vandal taken it into his head to destroy it. One piece of it still remains in a wall of the foundation of a house in Huntingdon.
The old Indian graveyard (and an extensive one it must have been) was on the high ground, near where the present Presbyterian church stands. To the credit of the Huntingdon folks be it said, they have never permitted a general exhumation of the bones of the Indians, to fill scientific cabinets, gratify the morbid appetites of the curious, or even to satisfy the less objectionable zeal of the antiquarian.
The few white settlers who lived at the Stone, in 1762, partially erected a stockade fort; but before the spring of 1763 they were forced to abandon it, as well as their houses, and fly to Carlisle for protection. When the settlers returned, in 1770, the fort still stood, though partially decayed. Immediately on the breaking out of the war of the Revolution, the fort was rebuilt on a more extended scale by the few inhabitants of the town and surrounding country. It was located near where the court-house now stands, immediately on the bluff, and, according to the traces of it discovered by the present generation, must have covered ten acres of ground. It was strongly built; and, when the savages were in the midst of their depredations, it was the only reliable refuge—before the erection of the Lead Mine Fort, in Sinking Valley—for all the people residing as far west as the base of the Alleghany Mountains.
No actual attempt was ever made against Standing Stone Fort; neither were there ever any Indians seen, except on two or three occasions, very close to it. A party of lurking savages were once surprised and shot at by a number of scouts on the hill where the graveyard now stands; but they made good their escape without any injury being done.
At another time, by a display of cool courage, as well as shrewdness, that would do any general credit, the commander of the fort unquestionably saved the place from total annihilation. One morning a large body of savages appeared upon the ridge on the opposite side of the river, and, by theirmanœuvering, it was clearly evident that they meditated an attack, which, under the circumstances, must have proved disastrous to the settlers, for not more than ten men able to bear arms were in the fort at the time—the majority having left on a scouting expedition. The commander, with judgment that did him infinite credit, marshalled his men, and paraded them for half an hour in such a manner as to enable the Indians to see a constant moving of the middle of the column, but neither end of it, while the drums kept up a constant clatter. In addition to this, he ordered all the women out, armed them with frying-pans, brooms, or whatever he could lay his hands upon, and marched them about the enclosure after the same manner in which he did the men. The enemy could only make out the dim outlines of the people and hear the noise. The stratagem succeeded, and, after a very short council of war, the Indians disappeared.
Among those who figured about Standing Stone, at the beginning of the Revolution, were the Bradys. Hugh Brady's name appears in some of the old title-deeds; and the father of Sam. Brady (rendered famous by R. B. McCabe, Esq.) lived at the mouth of the little run opposite Huntingdon. Within the walls of Standing Stone Fort, General Hugh Brady and a twin-sister were born. All the Bradys went to the West Branch of the Susquehanna during the Revolution. Hugh entered the army at an early age, and, step by step, rose from the ranks to the exalted position he occupied at the time of his death. A characteristic anecdote is related of him. At one time he was lying ill at Erie, and his physician told him he could not survive. "Let the drums beat," said he; "my knapsack is swung, and Hugh Brady is ready to march!" He recovered, however, and died only a few years ago, at Sunbury.
The only massacre by Indians in the immediate vicinity of Standing Stone occurred on the 19th of June, 1777, at what was then known as the "Big Spring," two miles west of the fort. In consequence of hostile bands of Indians having been seen at a number of places in the neighborhood, and the general alarm which followed, people commenced flocking to the forts from every direction.