DHisiEL Boone ^CeC/L <>«>€>< A. L. BURT COMPANY, j» ^ ^ jfe ^ J^ ^ PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK Copyright, 1903, By E. A. BRAINERD, PEEFAOE. The subject of the following biography, the celebrated Colo]s:el Daniel Boone, is one of the most remarkable men which this country has produced His character is marked with origi- nality, and his actions were important and influ- ential in one of the most interesting periods of our history — ^that of the early settlement of Kentucky. Boone is generally acknowledged as the founder of that State. His having explored it alone to a considerable extent ; his leading the earliest bands of settlers; his founding Boonesborough, the nucleus of the future State ; his having defended this and other stations suc- cessfully against the attacks of the Indians ; and the prominent part which he took in militaiy ^ affairs at this period of distress and peril, cer* fi iii o 4 iv PREFACE. tainly render his claims to the distinguished honor of founding Kentucky very strong. But Boone, personally, reaped veiy little benefit from his patriotic and disinterested ex- ertions. The lands ^\^hich he had first cultivated and defended, ^^'ere taken from him by the chicanery of the law; other lands granted to him by the Spanish government were lost by his inattention to legal forms ; and in his old age he was without an acre of land which he could call his own. A few years before his death a small tract, such as any other settler in Missouri was entitled to, was granted him by Congress. But he has left to his numerous posterity a nobler inheritance — that of an imperishable fame in the annals of his country I INTRODUCTOEY NOTE. The story of pioneer life in the early wilds of Ken- tucky and '' the AVinningof the West "—to use Presi- dent Roosevelt's apt title-phrase— is exciting and full of interest. One of its first white discoverers was the hunter, John Finley, who, in 1767, with some compan- ions, crossed the Alleghanies and entered the hitherto little known region beyond. Of this early pioneer, Colonel Daniel Boone, then residing at Yadkin, S. C, interestingly heard, and in 1769 he and six comrade w^oodsmen set out across the mountains by way of Cumberland Gap to explore for themselves the Eastern Kentucky district, which in early days was known to the outer world by the now almost forgotten designa- tion of the colony of Transylvania. Previous to this time the explorers in the region had been few ; and even the Indian inhabitants had departed from it, to be afterwards harried by the troops of Lord Dunmore in the Ohio Valley in the Western border war of the Revolution. Boone's progenitors had emigrated from Devon, Eng- land, and settled in Pennsylvania, where some of them joined the Quakers, while Boone's father, in 1748, re- moved to South Carolina and settled on the Yadkin at Holman's Ford. It was there that Daniel Boone set forth, as above narrated, and, though twice captured by Indians, he escaped and returned to his home in xni Xiv INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 1771, only, however, to set out again for Kentucky two years later, and this time with his family and the families of six other emigrants. In Kentucky, Boone and his little colony built a fort on the left bank of the Kentucky River, at a place they called Boonesborough, and here they lived an exciting, adventurous life, in constant danger from lurkmg In- dians, who once more made Boone captive, with some of his people ; while two of his daughters were surprised canoeing on the river, though immediatel}^ lescued. Boone and his comrades were conveyed by the In- dians to Detroit, where all were ransomed save Boone himself, who was taken to the tribal seat, Chillicothe, and there adopted into the family of a Shawnee chief. Though closely watched by his captors, Boone, on learning that the tribe contemplated a raid on his own settlement, managed to escape, and after a journey of 160 miles turned up, to the surprise of all, in time to defend his family and people in the fort from an at- tacking party of 450 Indians and some Frenchmen, who assailed their stronghold for over twelve days, but were finally beaten off with great loss. This deter- mined assault on the fort of Boonesborough is described as " one of the most heroic of those bloody struggles between civilization and barbarism which have ren- dered the plains of Kentucky memorable." The at- tacking Indians, as we have said, were aided by some French, under Captain Ducptesne ; and both Indians and French bore British and French colors, while the surrender of the Fort was demanded in tlie name of His BriU^nnic Majesty. After the raising of the siege and the departure of the assaulting force, the Fort was afterwards free from Indian attack ; while settlement INTRODUCTORY NOTE. XV in Kentucky rapidly advanced, the Revolutionary War di'iving manj^ settlers far to the West. The event we have just related took place in August, 1778, and, four years later, Boone fought a battle against the Indians at Blue Licks, where one of his .sons was killed. In 1790, on the separation of Kentucky from Virginia, the great hunter and pioneer settled for a time at Point Pleasant, on the Kanawha Piver ; and from 1795 to 1804, after removing to Missouri, then a Spanish possession, he acted as Commandant of the Femme Osage district, having received a grant of 8,000 acres for his public services. This and other land grants Boone unfortunately lost when the United States became possessed of Spanish territory ; though he was to some extent recouped for these losses by other land grants, after an appeal to the Legislature of Kentucky and to Congress. Boone died on his Missouri farm at Charette in September, 1820, and a quarter of a century afterwards the State of Kentucky paid his memory the honor of removing his remains for interment ui Ken- tucky soil, near Frankfort. Here his grave is the ob- ject of veneration by the patriotic among his country- men, and by those especially who remember his great services at an early era to what is now the State of Keijtucky. Q. Me:&cer Adam. LIFE AND TIMES OF COLONEL DANIEL BOONE. CHAPTER I. The family of Daniel Boone— His grandfather emigrates to America, and settles in Bucks County, Pennsylvania — Fam- ily of Daniel Boone's father — Account of Exeter, the birth- place of Boone — Birth of Daniel Boone — Religion of his family — Boone's boyhood — Goes to School — Anecdote — Summary termination of his schooling. The immediate ancestors and near relations of the American Boone family, resided at Brad- mnch, about eight miles from Exeter, England. George Boone, the gi-andfather of Daniel, emi- grated to America and amved, A^dth Mary his wife, at Philadelphia, on the 10th of October, 1717. They brought with them eleven chil- dren, two daughters and nine sons. The names of three of the sons hav^e come down to us. 1 2 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. John, James, and Squire. The last of these, Squire Boone, was the father of Daniel. George Boone, immediately after his amval in America, purchased a large tract of land in what is now Bucks County, which he settled, and called it Exeter, after the city near which he was born. The records distinguish it only as the to^vnship of Exeter, ^vithout any county. He purchased also vaiious other tracts in Mary- land and Virginia; and our tradition says, among othei*s, the ground on which George- town, District of Columbia, now stands, and that he laid the to^v^n out, and gave it his own name. His sons John and James lived and died on the Exeter purchase.* Daniel Boone's father, Squire Boone, had seven sons and four daughters, viz. : James,f Samuel, Jonathan, Daniel, George, Squire, Ed« ward, Sarah, Elizabeth, Mary, and Hannah. Exeter Township is situated in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and noAV has a population of over * *•' Pittsburg Gazette," quoted by Teck. f The eldest, James, was killed by the Indians in 1773, and his son Israel was killed at the battle of Blue Lic^ks, August 19th, 1782. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 3 two thousand. Here Dauiel Boone was Ixrni, on tte nth of February, 1735 * The maiden name of Boone's mother was Sarah Morgan. Some dispute has arisen re- specting the religious persuasion of the Boone family. It would appear, on a review of the whole controversy, that before their removal to this country, the Boones were Episcopalians ; but during their residence in Pennsylvania they permitted themselves to be considered Quakers. "What sort of a Quaker Daniel Boone himself was, will be apparent in the course of our narrative. Exeter, the native place of Daniel Boone, was at this period a small frontier settlement, consisting of log-houses, surrounded with woods, which abounded with game of various kinds and were occasionally infested with hostile Indians. It is not surprising that Daniel, pass- ing the period of his boyhood in such a place, *Bogant gives 11th of February, 1735. Peck, February, 1735. Another account gives 1746 as the year of his birth, and Bucks County as his birthplace. The family record, in the handwriting of Daniel Boone's uncle, James, who was • schoolmaster, gives the 14th of July, 1733. 4 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. sliould lia\'e acquired at an early age tlie ac« complishments of a hunter and woodsman. From a mere child it was his chief delight to roam in the woods, to observe the wild haunts of Nature, and to pursue the wild animals which were then so abundant. Of the boyhood of Daniel Boone, one of his bi- ographers gives the following account. Speak- ing of the residence of the family at Exeter, he says : ^ " Here they lived for ten years ; and it was during this time that their son Daniel began to show his passion for hunting. He was scarcely able to carry a gun when he was shooting all the squiiTcls, raccoons, and even Avild cats (it is said), that he could find in that region. As he grew older, his courage increased, and then we find him amusing himself with higher game. Other lads in the neighborhood were soon taught by him the use of the rifie, and were then able to join him in his adventures. On one occasion, they all started out for a hunt, * " Adventures of Daniel Boone, the Kentucky Rifleman.' By the author of " Uacle Philip's Conversations." LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 5 and, after amusing themselves till it was almost dark, were returniug homeward, when sud- denly a wild cry was heard in the woods. The boys screamed out, 'A panther! A panther!' and ran off as fast as they could. Boone stood fii-mly, looking around for the animal. It was a panther indeed. His eye lighted upon him just in the act of springing toward him ; in an instant he leveled his rifle, and shot him through the heart. " But this sort of sport was not enough for him. He seemed resolved to go away from men, and live in the forests with these animals. One' morning he started off as usual, with his rifle and dog. Night came on, but Daniel did not return to his home. Another day and night passed away, and still the boy did not make his appearance. His parents were now greatly alarmed. The neighbors joined them in making search for the lad. After wander- ing about a great while, they at length saw smoke rising from a cabin in the distance. Upon reaching it, they foimd the boy. The floor of the cabin was covered with the skins 6 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. oi such animals as he had slain, and pieces of meat were roasting before the foe for his supper. Here, at a distance of three miles from any settlement, he had built his cabin of sods and branches and sheltered himseK in the wilderness. " It was while his father was living on the headwaters of the Schuylkill that young Boone received, so far as we know, all his education. Shoii) indeed were his schoolboy days. It happened that an Irish schoolmaster strolled into the settlement, and, by the advice of Mr. Boone and other parents, opened a school in the neighborhood. It was not then as it is now. Good schoolhouses were not scattered over the land ; nor were schoolmasters always able to teach their pupils. The schoolhouse where the boys of this settlement went was a log-cabin, built in the midst of the woods. The schoolmaster was a strange man ; some- times good-humored, and then indulging the lads ; sometimes surly and ill-natured, and then beating them severely. It was his usual custom, after hearing the first lessons of the ^ LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 7 morning, to allow the children to be out for a Ivalf hour at play, during which time he strolled off to refresh himself from his labors. He always walked in the same direction, and the boys thought that after his retui-n, when they were called in, he was generally more cimel than ever. They Avere whipped more severely, and oftentimes without any cause. They observed this, but did not know the meaning of it. One morning young Boone asked that he might go out, and had scarcely left the schooboom when he saw a squirrel running over the trunk of a fallen tree. True to his natm'e, he instantly gave chase, until at last the squirrel darted into a bower of vines and branches. Boone thrust his hand in, and, to his surprise, laid hold of a bottle of whisky. This was in the dii^ection of his master's morn- ing walks, and he thought now that he under- stood the secret of much of his ill-natuiu He returned to the schoolroom; but, when they were dismissed for that day, he told some of the larger boys of his discovery. Their plan was soon arranged. Early the next morning a bottle S LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. of whisky, lia\4ng tartar emetic in it, was placed in tlie bower and tlie other bottle thrown away. At the usual hour, the lads vrere sent out to play, and the master started on his walk. But their play was to come afterward ; they longed for the master to return. At length they were called in, and in a little time saw the success of their experiment. The master began to look pale and sick, yet still went on TS'ith his work. Several boys were called up, one after the other, to recite lessons, and all whipped soundly, Avhether right or wrong. At last young Boone was called out to answer questions in aiith- metic. He came forward ^^-ith his slate and pencil, and the master began. " If you subtract six from nine what remains ? " said he. " Three, sir," said Boone. " Very good," said the master, "now let us come to fractions. If you take three-quarters from a whole number what re- mains?" The whole, sir," answered Boone. " You blockhead ! " cried the master, l>eatincj him ; " you stupid little fool, ho^v can you show that ? " " If I take one bottle of whisky," said Boone, " and put in its place another in wliicl^ LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 9 I have mixed an emetic, the whole mil remain if nobody drinks it ! " The Irishman, dread- fully sick, ^vas now doubly enraged. He seized Boone, and commenced beating him ; the chil- dren shouted and roared ; the scuffle continued until Boone knocked the master down upon the floor, and rushed out of the room. It was a day of freedom now for the lads. The story soon ran through the neighborhood ; Boone was rebuked by his parents, but the schoolmaster was dismissed, and thus ended the boy's educa- tion. Thus freed from school, he now returned more ardently than ever to his favorite pursuit. His dog and rifle were his constant companions, and day after day he started from home, only to roam through the forests. Hunting seemed to be the only business of his life ; and he was never so happy as when at night he came home laden with game. He was an untiring wan- derer." Perhaps it was not a very serious misfortune for Daniel Boone that his school instruction was so S(\-inty, for, " in another kind of education/' 10 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. sajs Mr. Peck * " not unfrequent in the wilds of the West, he was an adept. No Indian could poise the rifle, find his way through the pathless forest, or search out the retreats of game, more readily than Daniel Boone. In all that related to Indian sagacity, border life, or the tactics of the skilful hunter, he excelled. The success- ful training of a hunter, or woodsman, is a kind of education of mental discipline, differing from that of the schoolroom, but not less effective in giving vigor to the mind, quickness of appre- hension, and habits of close observation. Boone was regularly trained in all that made him a successful backwoodsman. Indolence and im- becility never produced a Simon Kenton, a Tecumthe, or a Daniel Boone. To gain the skill of an accomplished hunter requires talents, patience, perseverance, sagacity, and habits of thinking. Amongst other qualifications, knowl- edge of human nature, and especially of Indian character is indispensable to the pioneer of a wilderness. Add to these, self-possession, self- eonttx)l^ and promptness in execution. Persons * " Life of Daniel Boone." By John M. Peck. \ LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. H who ai^e unaccustomed to a frontier residence know not how much, in the preservation of life, and in obtaining subsistence, depends on such chai'acteristics ! " In the woods siuTounding the little settle- ment of Exeter, Boone had ample opportunity for perfecting himself in this species of mental discipline, and of gaining that physical training of the limbs and muscles so necessary in the pursuits of the active hunter and pioneer. We have no record of his ever having encountered the Indians during his residence in Pennsyl- vania. His knowledge of their peculiar modes of hunting and war was to be attained not less thoroughly at a somewhat later period of life. CHAPTER n. Removal of Boone's father and family to North Carolina- Location on the Yadkin River— Character of the country and the people — Byron's description of the backwoodsman- Daniel Boone marries Rebecca Bryan— His farmer life in North Carolina — State of the country — Political troubles foreshadowed — Illegal fees and taxes — Probable effect of this state of things on Boone's mind — Signs of movement. When Daniel Boone was still a youth, his father emigrated to North Carolina. The pre- cise date of this removal of the family residence is not known. Mr. Peck, an excellent authority, says it took place when Daniel was about eight- een years old. This would make it about the year 1752. The new residence of Squire Boone, Daniel's father, was near Holman's Ford, on the Yadkin River, about eight miles from Wilkesboro'. The fact of the great backwoodsman having passed many years of his life there is still re- membered with pride by the inhabitants of that region. The capital of Watauga County which 1^ LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 13 was formed in 1849, is named Boone, in honor of Daniel Boone. The historian of North Car- olina * is disposed to daim him as a son of the State. He says: '^In North Carolina Daniel Boone was reared. Here his youthful days were spent; and here that bold spirit was trained, which so fearlessly encountered the perils through ^hich he passed in after life. His fame is part of her propei-ty, and she has inscribed his name on a town in the region where his youth was spent." " The character of Boone is so peculiar," says Mr. "Wheeler, ''that it marks the age in which he lived and his name is celebrated in the verses of the immortal Byron : (( < Of all men Who passes for in life and death most lucky, Of the great names which in om* faces stare, Is Daniel Boone, backwoodsman of Kentucky. * * * * _ Crime came not near him— she is not the child Of Solitude. Health shrank not from him, for Her home is in the rarely-trodden wild. * * * * And tall and strong and swift of foot are they, Beyond the dwariing city's pale abortions, ♦John p. Wheeler. - HistoricalSketches of North Carolina, 14 LIFE .OF DANIEL BOOIS^. Because their thoughts had never been the prey Of care or gain ; the green woods were their portions. No sinking spirits told them they grew gray, No fashions made tliem apes of her distortions. Simple they were, not savage ; and their rifles, Though very true, were not yet used for trifles. Motion was in their days, rest in their slumbers. And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil. Not yet too many nor too few their numbers; Corruption could not make their hearts her soil ; The lust which stings, the splendor which encumbers. With the free foresters divide no spoil ; Serene, not sullen, were the solitudes Of this unsighing people of the woods.' " We quote these beautiful lines, because they so aptly and forcibly describe the peculiar character of Boone ; and to a certain extent, as Mr. Wheeler intimates, his character was that of his times and of his associates. It was during the residence of the family on the banks of the Yadkin, that Boone formed, the acquaintance of Rebecca Bryan, whom he married."^ The marriage appears, by compari- * The children by this marriage were nine in number. Sons : James, born in 1756, Israel, Jesse, Daniel, and Nathan. Daughters : Susan, Jemima, Lavinia, and Rebecca. The eldest, James, was killed, as will appear in our subse- quent narrative, by the Indians, in 1773 ; and Israel fell in the battle of Blue Licks, May 17th, 1782. In 1846, Nathan, a cap- tain in the United States service, was the only sui'viving son. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 15 son of dates, to have taken place in the year 1755. " One almost regrets," says Mr. Peck, " to spoil so beautiful a romance as that which has had such extensive circulation in the vari- ous 'Lives of Boone,' and which represents him as mistaking the bright eyes of this young lady, in the dark, for those of a deer ; a mistake that nearly proved fatal from the unerring rifle of the young hunter. Yet, in truth, we are bound to say, that no such mistake ever hap- pened. Our backwoods swains never make such mistakes." The next five years after his mamage, Daniel Boone passed in the quiet pursuits of a farmer's life, varied occasionally by hunting excursions in the woods. The most quiet and careless of the citizens of North Carolina were not unob- servant, however, of the political aspect of the times. During this period the people, by their representatives in the Legislature, began that opposition to the Koyal authority, which was in after years to signalize North Carolina as one of the leading Colonies in the Revolutionary struggle. 16 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. The newly-appointed Royal Governor, Ar* thur Dobbs, arrived at iSTewbern in the autumn of 1754. " Grover nor Dobbs' administration of ten years," says the historian Wheeler, " was a continued contest between himself and the Legislature, on matters frivolous and unimpor- tant. A high-toned temper for Royal preroga- tives on his part, and an indomitable resistance of the Colonists. ^ ^ ^ ^ The people were much oppressed by Lord Grenville's agents. They seized Corbin, his agent, who lived below Edenton, and brought him to En- field, where he was compelled to give bond and security to produce his books and disgorge his illefical fees." This matter of illegal fees was pai-t of a sys- tem of oppression, kindred to the famous Stamp Act — a system which was destined to grow more and more intolerable imder Governor Tryon's administration, and to lead to the ior- mation of the famous company of Regulators, whose resistance of taxation and tyranny was soon to convulse the whole State. We are by no means to suppose that Daniel LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 17 Boone was aii unobservant spectator of what was passing even at the time we are speaking of, nor that the doings of the tax-gatherers had nothing to do with his subsequent movements. He not only hated oppression, but he hated also strife and disturbance ; and already began to long for a new migration into the distant woods and quiet intervales, where politics and the tax- gatherer should not intrude. The population in his neighborhood was in- creasing, and new settlements were being formed along the Yadkin and its tributary streams, and explorations w^ere made to the northwest on the banks of the Holston and Clinch rivers. The times were already beginning to exhibit symp- toms of restlessness and stir among the people, which was soon to result in the formation of new States and the settlement of the far West. CHAPTER III. The Seven Years' War — Cherokee war — Period of Boone*s first long excursion to the West — Extract from Wheeler's His- tory of Tennessee — Indian accounts of the western country — Indian traders — Their reports — Western travelers — Doherty — Adair — Proceedings of the traders — Hunters — Scotch traders — Hunters accompany the traders to the West — Their reports concerning the country — Other adventurers — Dr. Walker's expedition — Settlements in Southwestern Virginia — Indian hostilities — Pendleton purchase — Dr. Walker's second expedition — Hunting company of Walker and others — Boone travels with them — Curious monimaent left by him. The reader will recollect that the period re- ferred to in the last chapter comprehended the latter years of the celebrated Seven Years' War, During the chief portion of this period, the neighboring Colony of Virginia suffered all the horrors of Indian war on its western frontier — horrors from which even the ability, courage, and patriotism of Washington were fox a long time unable to protect them. The war was virtually terminated by the campaign of 1759, 18 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 19 when Quebec was taken. The next year Canada was ceded to England ; and a Cherokee war, which had disturbed the border settlers of North Carolina, was terminated. Daniel Boone's biog- raphers all agree that it was about this time when he fii-st began to make long excursions toward the West ; but it is difficult to fix exactly the date of his first long journey through the woods in this direction. It is generally dated in 1771 or 1772. We now make a quotation from Eamsay's Annals of Tennessee, which shows, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that he hunted on the Wataga River in 1760, and renders it probable that he was in the West at an earlier date. Our readers will excuse the length of this quotation, as the first part of it gives so graphic a picture of the hunter and pioneer life of the times of Daniel Boone, and also shows what had been done by others in western explorations before Boone's expeditions, commenced. " The Colonists of the Carolinas and of Yir ginia had been steadily advancing to the AVest, and we have traced their approaches in the direc- 20 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tion of our eastern boundaiy,* to tlie base of the great Appalachian range. " Of the country beyond it, little was positively known or accurately understood. A wandering Indian would imperfectly delineate upon the sand, a feeble outline of its more prominent pHysical features — ^its magnificent rivers, with their numerous tributaries — its lofty mountains, its dark forests, its extended plains and its vast extent. A voyage in a canoe, from the source of the Hogohegee f to the Wabash, J required for its performance, in their figurative language, " two paddles, two warriors, three moons." The Ohio itself was but a tributary of a still larger river, of whose source, size and direction, no in- telligible account could be communicated or understood. The Muscle Shoals and the ob- structions in the river above them, were i^epre- sented as mighty cataracts and fearful whirl- pools, and the Suck, as an awful vortex. The wild beasts with which the illimitable forests * That is, the eastern boundary of Tennessee, which was then a part of North Carolina, f Holston. X The Ohio was known many yeai's by this name. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 21 abounded, were numbered by pointing to the leaves upon the trees, or the stars in a cloudless sky. "These glomng descriptions of the West seemed rather to stimulate than to satisfy the intense curiosity of the approaching settlers. Information more reliable, and more minute, was, from time to time, furnished from other sources. In the Atlantic cities accounts had been received from French and Spanish traders, of the unparalleled beauty and fertility of the western interior. These reports, highly colored and amplified, were soon received and known upon the frontier. Besides, persons engaged in the interior traffic with the south-western Indian tribes had, in times of peace, penetrated their territories — traded with and resided amongst the natives — and upon their return to the white settlements, confirmed what had been previously reported in favor of the distant countries they had seen. As early as 1690, Doherty, a trader from Virginia, had Hsited the Cherokees and after^vard lived among them a number of years. In 1730, Adair, from South Carolina, 22 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. had traveled, not only tlirough tlie towns of this tribe, but had extended his tour to most of the nations south and west of them. He was not only an entei-prising trader but an intelli- gent tourist. To his observations upon the sev- eral tribes which he visited, we are indebted for most that is known of their earlier histor)^ They were published in London in 1775. " In 1740 other traders went among the Cherokees from Virginia. They employed Mr. Vaughan as a packman, to transport their goods. West of Amelia County, the coimtry was then thinly inhabited ; the last hunter's cabin that he saw was on Otter Eiver, a branch of the Staunton, now in Bedford County, Va. The route piu'sued was along the Great Path to the center of the Cherokee nation. The traders and packmen generally confined themselves to this path till it crossed the Little Tennessee River, then spreading themselves out among the several Cherokee villages west of the mountain, continued their traffic as low down the Great Tennessee as the Indian settlements upon Occochappo or Bear Creek, below the Muscle LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 23 Shoals, and there encountered the competition of other traders, who were supplied from New Orleans and Mobile. They returned, heavily laden with peltries, to Charleston, or the more northern markets, where they were sold at highly remunerating prices. A hatchet, a pocket looking-glass, a piece of scarlet cloth, a trinket, and other articles of little value, which at Williamsburg could be bought for a few shillings, would command from an Indian hunter on the Hiwasse or Tennessee peltries amounting in value to double the number of pounds ster- ling. Exchanges were necessaiily slow, but the profits realized from the operation were im- mensely large. In times of peace this traffic attracted the attention of many adventurous traders. It became mutually advantageous to the Indian not less than to the white man. The trap and the rifle, thus bartered for, pro- cured, in one day, more game to the Cherokee hunter than his bow and arrow and his dead-fall would have secured during a month of toilsome hunting. Other advantages resulted from it to the whites. They became thus acquainted with 24 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tlie great avenues leading througli the hunting grounds and to the occupied country of the neighboring tribes — an important circumstance in the condition of either war or peace. Fur- ther, the traders were an exact thermometer of the pacific or hostile intention and feelings of the Indians with whom they traded. Gener- ally, they were foreigners, most frequently Scotchmen, who had not been long in the country, or upon the frontier, who, ha^dng ex- perienced none of the cruelties, depredations or aggressions of the Indians, cherished none of the resentment and spirit of retaliation born with, and everywhere manifested by, the American settler. Thus, free from animosity against the aborigines, the trader was allowed to remain in the village where he traded unmolested, even when its warriors were singing the w^ai^ song or brandishing the war club, preparatory to an invasion or massacre of the whites. Timely warning was thus often given, by a returning packman to a feeble and unsuspecting settle- ment, of the perfidy and cruelty meditated against it LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 25 " This gainful commerce was, for a time, en- grossed by the traders ; but the monopoly was not allowed to continue long. Their rapid ac- cumulations soon excited the cupidity of another class of adventurers ; and the hunter, in his turn, became a co-pioneer with the trader, in the march of civilization to the wilds of the West. As the agricultural population approached the eastern base of the Alleghanies, the game became scarce, and was to be found by severe toil in almost inaccessible recesses and coves of the mountain. Packmen, returning from their trad- ing expeditions, carried with them evidences, not only of the abundance of game across the mountains, but of the facility with which it was procui^ed. Hunters began to accompany the traders to the Indian towns ; but, unable to brook the tedious delay of procuring peltries by traffic, and impatient of restraint, they struck boldly into the wilderness and western-like, to use a western phrase, set up for themselves. The reports of their return, and of their success- ful enterprise, stimulated other adventurers to a similar undertaking. 'As early as 1748 20 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Doctor Thomas Walker, of Vii'ginia, in company with Colonels Wood, Patton and Buchanan, and Captain Chai'les Campbell, and a number of hunters, made an exploring tour upon the west- em waters. Passing Powell's valley, he gave the name of " Cumberland " to the lofty range of mountains on the west. Tracing this range in a southwestern direction, he came to a remark- able depression in the chain : thi'ough this he passed, calling it " Cumberland Gap." On the western side of the range he found a beautiful mountain stream, which he named " Cumberland Elver," all in honor of the Duke of Cumberland, then prime minister of England.' ^ These names have ever since been retained, and, with Lou- don, are believed to be the only names in Ten- nessee of English origin. " xllthough Foii} Loudon was erected as early as 1756 upon the Tennessee, yet it was in ad- vance of any white settlements nearly one hun- dred and fifty miles, and was destroyed in 1760. The fort, too, at Long Island, within the bound- * Monette. The Indian name of this range was Wasioto, and of the river, Shawnee. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 27 aries of the present State of Tennessee, were erected in 1758, but no permanent settle- ments had yet been foiTaed near it. Still occa- sional settlers liad bejjrun to ^x their habitations in the southwestern section of Virginia, and as early as 1754, six families were residing west of New Eiver. ' On the breaking out of the French war, the Indians, in alliance mth the French, made an irruption into these settlements, and massacred Burke and his family. The other families, finding their situation too perilous to be maintained, retui'ned to the eastern side of New River; and the renewal of the attempt to carry the white settlements further west was not made until after the close of that war.' " Under a mistaken impression that the Vir- ( p-inia line, when extended west, would em- ( brace it, a grant of land was this year made, by the authorities of Virginia, to Edmund Pendleton, for three thousand acres of land, lying in Augusta County on a branch of the middle fork of the Indian river called ♦ Howe. 28 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. West Creek,* now Sullivan County, Tennes- see. " In this year Doctor Walker again passed over ( Clinch and Powell's River, on a tour of ex- ( ploration into what is now Kentucky. " The Cherokees were now at peace wiih. the whites and hunters from the back settlements began ^\'ith safety to penetrate deeper and fur- ther into the wilderness of Tennessee. 1 "Tfil 'Several of them, chiefly from Virginia, hearing of the abundance of game with which the woods were stocked, and allured by the prospects of gain, which might be drawn from this source, formed themselves into a company, composed of AVallen, Scaggs, Blevins, Cox, and fifteen others, and came into the valley since known as Carter's Valley, in Hawkins County, Tennessee. They hunted eighteen months upon Clinch and Powell's Rivers. Wallen's Creek and Wallen's Ridge received their name from the leader of the company ; as also did the * The original patent, signed by Governor Diuwiddie, and now in the possession of the writer, was presented to him by T. A. R. Nelson, Esq., of Jonesboro, Tennessee. It is prob* ably the oldest grant in the state. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 20 station which they erected iu the present Lee County, Virginia, the name of Wallen's station. They penetrated as far north as Laurel Moun- tain, in Kentucky, where they tenninated their journey, having met with a body of Indians, whom they supposed to be Shawnees. At the head of one of the companies that visited the West this year ' came Daniel Boon, from the Yadkin, in North Carolina, and traveled with them as low as the place where Abingdon now stands, and there left them.' " This is the first time the advent of Daniel Boon to the western wilds has been mentioned by historians, or by the several biographers of that distinguished pioneer and hunter. There is reason, however, to believe that he had hunt«d upon Watauga earlier. The writer is indebted to N. Gammon, Esq., formerly of Jonesboro, now a citizen of Knoxville, for tlie following inscription, still to be seen upon a beech tree, standing in sight and east of the present stage- road, leading from Jonesboro to Blountsville, and in the valley of Boon's Creek, a tributary of Watauga : 30 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. D, Boon aUED A, BAR On Tre& in TIiE yEAE 1760 "Boon was eighty-six yeai's old when Le died, which was September, 1820. He was thus twenty-six years old when the inscription was made. "When he left the company of huntere in 1761, as mentioned above by Hay- wood, it is probable that he did so to re\dsit the theater of a former hunt upon the creek that still bears his name, and where his camp is still pointed out near its banks. It is not im- probable, indeed, that he belonged to, or ac- companied, the party of Doctor Walker, on his first, or certainly on his second, tour of explora- tion in 1760. The inscription is sufficient au- thority, as this writer conceives, to date the arrival of Boon in Tennessee as early as its date, 1760 thus preceding the permanent settle- ment of the country nearly ten years." It will be observed that the historian in this LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. gj extract spells Boon without the final e, follow- ing the orthography of the hunter, in his in- scription on the tree. This oi^thography Boone used at a later period, as we shall show. But the present received mode of spelling the name is the one which we have adopted in this work. On a subsequent page of Wheeler's history, we find the f ollomng memorandum : " Daniel Boon, who still lived on the Yadkin, though he had previously hunted on the West- em waters, came again this year to explore the country, being employed for this purpose by Henderson & Company. With him came Samuel Callaway, his kinsman, and the ancestor of the respectable family of that name, pioneers of Tennessee, Kentucky and Missouri. Callaway was at the side of Boon when approaching the spurs of the Cumberland Mountain, and in view of the vast herds of buffalo grazing in the valleys between them, he exclaimed, " I am richer than the man mentioned in Scripture, who owned the cattle on a thousand hills ; I own the wild beasts of more than a thousand valleys." After Boone and Callaway, came another 32 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. hunter, Henry Scaggins, who was also employed by Henderson. He extended his explorations to the Lower Cumberland, and fixed his station at Mansco's Lick. We shall have occasion to speak more par- ticularly of Henderson's company and Boone's connection with it ; but we will first call the reader's attention to the state of aif airs in North Carolina at this period, and their probable in- fliience on the course pursued by Daniel Boone. CHAPTER IV. Political and social condition of North Carolina— Taxes-Law suits— Ostentation and extravagance of foreigners and gov- ernment officers— Oppression of the people— Murmurs- Open resistance-The Regulators-Willingness of Daniel Boone and others to migrate, and their reasons— John Finley's expedition to the West— His report to Boone— He determines to join Finley in his next hunting tour-New company formed, with Boone for leader-Preparations for starting-The party sets out-Travels for a month through the wilderness-First sight of Kentucky-Formmg a camp -Hunting buffaloes and other game-Capture of Boone and Stuart by the Indians-Prudent dissimulation -Escape from the Indians-Return to the old camp-Their companions lost— Boone and Stuart renew their hunting. There were many circumstances in the social and political condition of the State of North Carolina during the period of Daniel Boone's residence on the banks of the Yadkin, which were calculated to render him restless and quite willing to seek a home in the Western wilderness. Customs and fashions were chang- ing. The Scotch tradei-s, to whom we have 84 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. referred in the last chapter, and others of the same class, were introducing an ostentatious and expensive style of living, quite inappro- priate to the rural population of the colony. In dress and equipage, they far surpassed the farmers and planters ; and they were not back- ward in taking upon themselves airs of superi- ority on this account. In this they were imitated by the officers and agents of the Royal govern- ment of the colony, who were not less fond of luxury and show. To support their extrava- gant style of living these minions of power, magistrates, lawyers, clerks of court, and tax- gatherers, demanded exorbitant fees for their services. The Episcopal clergy, supported by a legalized tax on the people, were not content A^dth their salaries, but charged enormous fees for the occasional sendees. A fee of fifteen dollars was exacted from the poor farmer for performing the marriage ser\dce. The collec- tion of taxes was enforced by suits at law, with enormous expense ; and executions, levies, and distresses were of every-day occurrence. All sums exceeding forty shillings were sued for LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 35 and executions obtained in the courts, tlie origi- nal debt being saddled vdih extortionate bills of cost. Sheriffs demanded more than was due, under threats of sheriff's sales ; and they applied the gains thus made to their own use. Money, as is always the ease in a new country, Avas ex- ceedingly scarce, and the sufferings of the people were intolerable. Petitions to the Legislature for a redress of o-rievances w^ere treated w^ith contempt. The people assembled and formed themselves into an association for regulating public grievances and abuse of power. Hence the name given to them of Eegulators. They resolved "to pay only such taxes as were agreeable to law and applied to the purpose therein named, to pay no officer more than his legal fees." The sub- sequent proceedings of the Eegulators, such as forcible resistance to officers and acts of per- sonal violence toward them, at length brought on an actual collision between them and an anned force led by the Royal Governor, Tryon (May 16, 1771,) at Alamanance, in which the Regula- tors were defeated ; and the grievances con- 36 LXl E OF DANIEL BOONE. tinued witli scarcely abated force till the Revolu- tion brought relief. Under these circumstances, it is not surpris ing that Daniel Boone and others were quite willing to migrate to the West, if it Avere only to enjoy a quiet life ; the dangers of Indian ag- gression being less dreaded than the visits of the tax-gatherer and the sheriff ; and the solitude of the forest and prairie being preferred to the society of insolent foreigners, flaunting in the luxury and ostentation purchased by the spoils of fi'aud and oppression. Among the hunters and traders who pursued their avocations in the Western wilds was John Finley, or Findley, who led a party of hunters in 1767 to the neighborhood of the Louisa River, as the Kentucky River was then called, and spent the season in hunting and trapping. On his return, he visited Daniel Boone, and gave him a most glowing description of the country which he had visited — a country abound- ing in the richest and most fertile land, inter- sected by noble rivers, and teeming with herds of deer and buffaloes and numerous flocks of LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 37 wild tui'keys, to say nothing of the smaller game. To these descriptions Boone lent a will- ing ear. He resolved to accompany Fiuley in his next hunting expedition, and to see this ter- restrial paradise with his own eyes, doubtless with the intention of ultimately seeking a home in that delightful region. Accordingly, a company of six persons was formed for a new expedition to the West, and Boone was chosen as leader. The names of the other members of this party were John Finley, John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Moncey, and William Cool. Much preparation seems to have been required. Boone's wife, who was one of the best of house- keepers and managers, had to fit out his clothes, and to make arrangements for housekeeping during his expected long absence. His sons were now old enough to assist their mother in the management of the farm, but, doubtless, they had to be supplied wdth money and other necessaries before the father could venture to leave home ; so that it was not till the 1st of May, 1769, that the party were able to set out. 38 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. as Boone, in his autobiography, expresses it, "in qneat of the country of Kentucky." It was more than a month before these ad- ventm^ers came in sight of the promised land. We quote from Mr. Peck's excellent work the description which undoubtedly formed the au- thority on which the artist has relied in paint- ing the accompanying engraving of "Daniel Boone's first view of Kentucky." It is as fol- lows : " It was on the 7th of June, 1769, that six men, weary and wayworn, were seen winding their way up the steep side of a rugged moun- tain in the wilderness of Kentucky. Their dress was of the description usually worn at that period by all forest rangers. The outside garment was a Iiimting shii't, or loose open frock, made of dressed deer skins. Leggings or drawers, of the same material, covered the lower extremities, to which was appended a pair of moccasins for the feet. The cape or collar of the hunting shirt, and the seams of the leg- gings, were adorned with fringes. The under garments were of coarse cotton. A leather belt LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE* 39 encircled tlie body ; on the right Bide waf5 sus- pended the tomahawk, to be used as a hatchet ; on the left side was the hunting-knife, powder- horn, bullet-pcuch, and other appendages in- dispensable for a hunter. Each person bore his trusty rifle ; and, as the party slowly made their toilsome way amid the shrubs, and over the logs and loose rocks that accident had thro^vn into the obscure trail which they were following, each man kept a sharp look-out, as though danger or a lurking enemy was near. Their garments were soiled and rent, the unavoidable result of long traveling and exposure to the heavy rains that had fallen; for the weather had been stoiTuy and most uncomfortable, and they had traversed a mountainous wilderness for several hundred miles. The leader of the party was of full size, with a hardy, robust, sinewy frame, and keen, piercing hazel eyes, that glanced with quickness at every object as they passed on, now cast forward in the direction they were traveling for signs of an old trail, and in the next moment directed askance into the dense thicket, or into the deep ravine, as if watching 40 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. some concealed enemy. The reader will recog- nize in this man the pioneer Boone, at the head of his companions. " Toward the time of the setting sun, the party had reached the summit of the mountain range, up which they had toiled for some three or four hours, and which had bounded their j)rospect to the west during the day. Here new and in- describable scenery opened to their view. Be- fore them, for an immense distance, as if spread out on a map, lay the rich and beautiful vales ^vatered by the Kentucky River ; for they had now reached one of its northern branches. The country immediately before them, to use a Western phrase, was ' rolling,' and, in places, abruptly hilly ; l^ut far in the vista was seen a beautifid expanse of le^el country, over Avhich the buffalo, deer, and other forest animals roamed unmolested while they fed on the lux- uriant herbage of the forest. The countenances of the party lighted up with pleasure, congratu- lations Avere exchanged, the romantic tales of Finley Avere confirmed by ocular demonstration, and orders Avere given to encamp for the night LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 41 in a neighboring ravine. In a deep gorge of the mountain a large tree had fallen, surrounded with a dense thicket, and hidden from observa- tion by the abrupt and precipitous hills. Thig tree lay in a convenient position for the back of their camp. Logs were placed on the right and left, leaving the front open, where fire might be kindled against another log; and for shelter from the rains and heavy dews, bark was peeled from the linden trees." This rude structure appears to have been the headquarters of the hunters through the whole siunmer and autumn, till late in December. During this time they hunted the deer, the bear, and especially the buifalo. The buffaloes w^ere found in great numbers, feeding on the leaves of the cane, and the lich and spontaneous fields of clover. During this long period they saw no Indians. That part of the country was not inhabited by any tribe at that time, although it was used occasionally as a hunting ground by the Shaw- anese, the Cherokees and the Chickesaws. The land at that time belonged to the colony of 42 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Virginia, ^vliicli then included whac is n'^w called Kentucky. The title to the ground was acquired by a treaty with the Indians, Oct, 5th, 1770. The Iroquois, at the treaty of Fort Stan- \vix, in 1768, had already ceded their doubtful claim to the land south of the Ohio Eiver, to Great Britain ; so that Boone's company of hunters were not trespassing upon Indian territory at this time.* But they were des- tined nevertheless to be treated as intru- ders. On the 22d of December, Boone and John Stuart, one of his companions, left their encamp- ment, and follo\Ying one of the numerous paths which the buffalo had made through the cane, they plunged boldly into the interior of the forest. They had as yet, as vre have already stated, seen no Indians, and the country had been reported as totally uninhabited. This was true in a strict sense, for although, as we have seen, the southern and northwestern tribes were in the habit of hunting here as upon neutral ground, yet not a single wigwam had been * Peck, Life of Boone. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 43 erected, nor did tlie land bear tlie slightest mark of having ever been cultivated. The different tribes would fall in with each other, and from the fierce conflicts which gener- ally followed these casual rencounters, the country had been known among them by the name of " the darTc and hloody ground! " The two adventurers soon learned the addi- tional danger to which they were exposed. While roving carelessly from canebrake to cane- brake, and admiring the rank growth of vege- tation, and the variety of timber which marked the fertility of the soil, they were suddenly alarmed by the appearance of a party of In- dians, who, springing from their place of con« cealment, rushed upon them with a rapidity which rendered escape impossible. They were almost instantly seized, disarmed, and made prisoners. Their feelings may be readily imagined. They were in the hands of an enemy who knew no alternative bet^veen adoption and torture; and the numbers and ileetness of their captors rendered escape by open means impossible, while their jealous 44 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. vigilance seemed equally fatal to any secret attempt. Boone, however, was possessed of a temper admirably adapted to the circumstances in which he was placed. Of a cold and saturnine, rather than an ardent disposition, he was never either so much elevated by good fortune or depressed by bad, as to lose for an instant the full posses- sion of all his faculties. He saw that immedi- ate escape was impossible, but he encouraged his companion, and constrained himself to ac- company the Indians in all their excursions, Avith so calm and contented an air, that their vigilance insensibly began to relax. On the seventh evening of their captivity, they encamped in a thick canebrake, and ha\ang built a large fire, lay down to rest. The party whose duty it was to watch were weary and negligent, and about midnigh"^ Boone, who had not closed an eye, ascertained, from the deep breathing all around him, that the whole party, including Stuart, was in a deep sleep. Gently and gradually extricating himself from the Indians who lay around him, he walked LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 45 cautiously to the spot where Stuart lay, and having succeeded in awakening him, without alarming the rest, he briefly informed him of his determination, and exhorted him to arise, make no noise, and follow him. Stuart, al- though ignorant of the design, and suddenly roused from sleep, fortunately obeyed with equal silence and celerity, and within a few minutes they were beyond hearing. Eapidly traversing the forest, by the light of the stars and the bark of the trees, they ascer- tained the direction in which the camp lay, but upon reaching it on the next day, to their great grief, they found it plundered and deserted, with nothing remaining to show the fate of their companions ; and even to the day of his death, Boone knew not whether they had been killed or taken, or had voluntaiily abandoned their cabin and returned.* Indeed it has never been ascertained what became of Finley and the rest of Boone's party of hunters. If Finley himself had returned to Carolina, so remarkable a person would un- * McClung. *' Western Adventures.** 46 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. doubtedly have left some trace of himself in the history of his time ; but no trace exists of any of the party who were left at the old camp by Boone and Stuart. Boone and Stuart resumed their hunting, although their ammunition was running low, and they were compelled, by the now well-known danger of Indian hostilities, to seek for more secret and secure hiding-places at night than their old encampment in the ravine. The only kind of fireaims used by the back- woods hunter is the rifle. In the use of this weapon Boone was exceedingly skilful. The fallowing anecdote, related by the celebrated naturalist, Audubon,* shows that he retained his wonderful precision of aim till a late period of his life. " Barking off squirrels is delightful sport, and, in my opinion, requires a greater degree of accuracy than any other. I first witnessed this manner of procuring squirrels whilst near the town of Frankfort. The performer was the celebrated Daniel Boone. We walked out to« gether, and followed the rocky margins of the * Ornithological Biography, pp. 293-4. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 47 Kentucky River, until we reached a piece of flat land thickly covered with black walnuts, oaks, and hickories. As the general mast was a good one that year, squirrels were seen gamboling on every tree around us. My companion, a stout, hale, and athletic man, dressed in a home- spun hunting-shirt, bare-legged and moccasined, carried a long and heavy rifle which, as he was loading it, he said had proved eflicient in all his former undertakings, and which he hoped would not fail on this occasion, as he felt proud to show me his skill. The gun was wiped, the powder measured, the ball patched with six- hundred-thread linen, and the charge sent home with a hickory rod. AVe moved not a step from the place, for the squirrels were so numerous that it was unnecessaiy to go after them. Boone pointed to one of these animals which had ob- served us, and was crouched on a branch about fifty paces distant, and bade me mark well the spot where the ball should hit. He raised his piece gradually, until the head (that being the name given by the Kentuckians to the siglii) of the barrel was brought to a line with the spot 48 IJFE OF DANIEL BOONE. which he intended to hit. The whip-like re« port resounded through the woods and along the hills in repeated echoes. Judge of my sur- prise, when I perceived that the ball had hit the piece of the bark immediately beneath the squirrel, and shivered it into splinters, the con- cussion j^roduced by which had killed the ani- mal, and sent it whirling thi'ough the air^ as if it had been blown up by the explosion of a powder magazine. Boone kept up his firing, and before many houi^ had elapsed we had pro- cured as many squirrels as we wished ; for you must know that to load a rifle requires only a moment, and that if it is wiped once after each shot, it will do duty for hours. Since that fii'st inter\dew with our veteran Boone, I have seen many other individuals perform the same feat" CHAPTER V. Arrival ot Squire Boone and a companion at the camp of ^^el Boone-Joyful meeting-News from Home and l^"«ng resumed-Daniel Boone and Stuart surprised by thrindians-Stuart killed-Escape ot Boone and his re- turn U^amp-Squire Boone's companion lost m the woods -Residence of Daniel Boone and Sqmre Boone m the .UdTrnerSquire returns to North Carolina obta.ns a freshsupply of ammunition, and agam rejoms his brother Itthe o^Icamp-Daniel Boone's own account of th.s re- markabt period of his life-His return to North C-,^a -His determination to settle in Kentucky-Othei W^t er^ ^venturers-The Long hunters-AVashington m Ken- t^y-BuUitfsparty-Floyd-s paity-Thompson s survey —First settlement of Tennessee. In the early part of tlie month of Januaiy, 1776, Boone and Stuart were agreeably sur- prised by the arrival of Squire Boone, the younger brother of Daniel, accompanied by another man, whose name has not been handed down. The meeting took place as they were hunting in the woods. The newcomers were haUed at a distance mth the usual greetmg, "Holloa! strangers, who are you?" to which they answered, MVhite men and friends." 50 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. And friends indeed they were — friends in need ; for they brought a supply of ammunition and news from Daniel Boone's home and family on the Yadkin. They had had a weary journey through the wilderness, and although they had met with no Indians on their Avay, they had frequently come upon their traces in passing through the woods. Their purpose in under- taking this formidable journey had been to learn the fate of Boone and his party, whose safety was nearly despaired of by his fiiends in North Carolina, to hunt for themselves, and to convey a supply of ammunition to Boone. It is difficult to conceive the joy vdih which their opportune arrival was welcomed. They in- formed Boone that they had just seen the last night's encampment of Stuart and himself, so that the joyful meeting was not wholly unan- ticipated by them. Thus reinforced, the party, now consisting of four skilful hunters, might reasonably hope for increased security, and a fortunate issue to their protracted hunting tour. But they hunted in gej)arate parties, and in one of these Daniel LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 51 Boone and Stuart fell in with a party of In- dians, wlio fired upon tliem. Stuart was shot dead and scalped by the Indians, but Boone escaped in the forest, and rejoined his brother and the remaining hunter of the party. A few days afterward this hunter was lost in the woods, and did not return as usual to the camp. Daniel and Squire made a long and anxious search for him ; but it was all in vain. Years afterward a skeleton was discov^ered in the woods, which was supposed to be that of the lost hunter. The two brothers were thus left in the wilder- ness alone, separated hy several hundred miles from home, surrounded by hostile Indians, and destitute of everything but their rifles. After having had such melancholy experience of the dangers to ^^'hich they were exposed, we would naturally suppose that their fortitude would have given way, and that they would instantly have returned to the settlements. But the most remarl<:al)le feature in Boone's character was a calm and cold equanimity which rarely rose to enthusiasm and never sunk to despondence. 52 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. His courage undervalued the danger to which he was exposed, and his presence of mind^ which never forsook him, enabled him on all occasions to take the best means of avoiding it. The wilderness, mth all its dangers and privations, had a charm for him, which is scarcely conceiv- able by one brought up in a city, and he deter- mined to remain alone while his brother returned to Carolina for an additional supply of ammu- nition, as their original supply was nearly ex- hausted. His situation we should noAv suppose in tlie highest degree gloomy and dispiriting. The dangers which attended his brother on his return Avere nearly equal to his own ; and each had left a wife and children, which Boone acknowledged cost him many an anxious thought. But the vdld and solitary grandeur of the country around him, where not a tree had been cut, nor a house erected, was to him an inex* haustible source of admiration and delight ; and he says to himself, that some of the most rapt- urous moments of his life were spent in those lonely rambles. The utmost caution was ueces- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 53 Bary to avoid the savages, and scarcely less to escape tlie ravenous hunger of the wolves that prowled nightly around hira in immense num- bers. He was compelled frequently to shift his lodging, and by undoubted signs saw that the Indians had repeatedly visited his hut during his absence. He sometimes lay in canebrakes without fire, and heard the yells of the Indians around him. Fortunately, however, he never encountered them."^ Mr. Perkins, in his Annals of the West, speaking of this sojourn of the brothers in the wilderness, says: And now commenced that most extraordinary life on the part of these two men which has, in a great measure, served to give celebrity to their names ; we refer to their residence, entirely alone, for more than a year in a land filled mth the most subtle and un- sparing enemies, and under the influence of no other motive, apparently, than a love of adven- ture, of Nature, and of solitude. Nor were they, during this time, always together. For three months, Daniel remained amid the forest utterly * McClung. 54 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. by himself, while his brother, with courage and capacity equal to his own, returned to North Carolina for a supply of powder and lead ; with which he succeeded in rejoining the roamer of the wilderness in safety in July, 1770. It is almost impossible to conceive of the skill, coolness, and sagacity which enabled Daniel Boone to spend so many weeks in the midst of the Indians, and yet be undiscovered by them. He appears to have changed his position continually-^to have explored the whole center of what forms now the State of Kentucky, and in so doing must have exposed himself to many different parties of the natives. A reader of Mr. Cooper's Last of the Mohicans may compre- hend, in some measure, the arts by which he was preserved, but, after all, a natural gift seems to lie at the basis of such consummate wood- craft ; an instinct, rather than any exercise of intellect, appeal^ to have guided Boone in such matters, and made him pre-eminent among those who were most accomplished in the knowledge of forest life. Then we are to remember the week's captivity of the previous year ; it Wc)S LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 55 the first practical acquaintance that the pioneer had with the AVestern Indians, and we may be assured he spent that week in noting carefully the whole method of his captors. Indeed, we think it probable he remained in captivity so long that he might learn their arts, stratagems, and modes of concealment. We are, moreover^ to keep in mind this fact : the woods of Ken- tucky were at that period filled with a species of nettle of such a character that, being once bent down, it did not recover itself, but remained prostrate, thus retaining the impression of a foot almost like snow — even a turkey might be tracked in it with perfect ease. This weed Boone would carefully avoid, but the natives, numerous and fearless, would commonly pay no regard to it, so that the white hunter was sure to have palpable signs of the presence of his enemies, and the direction they had taken. Considering these circumstances, it is even more remarkable that his brother should have re- turned in safety, mth his loaded horses, than that he remained alone unharmed ; though in the escape of both from captivity or death from 56 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. January, 1770, until their return to the Atlantic rivers in March, 1771, there is something so wonderful that the old pioneer's phrase, that he was " an instrument ordained to settle the wil- derness," seems entirely proper. Daniel Boone's own account of this period of his life, contained in his autobiography, is highly characteristic. It is as follows : " Thus situated, many hundred miles from our families in the howling wilderness, I believe few would have equally enjoyed the happiness we experienced. I often observed to my brother, * You see now how little nature requires to be satisfied. Felicity, the companion of content, is rather found in our own breasts than in the enjoyment of external things ; and I firmly be- lieve it requires but a little philosophy to make a man happy in whatsoever state he is. This consists in a full resignation to Providence, and a resigned soul finds pleasure in a path strewed with briers and thorns.' " We continued not in a state of indolence, but hunted every day, and prepared a little cottage to defend us from the winter storms. We re* LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 57 mained there undisturbed during the winter; and on the first of May, 1770, my brother re- turned home to the settlement by himself for a new recruit of horses and ammunition, leaving me by myself, without bread, salt, or sugar, without company of my fellow-creatures, or even a horse or dog. I confess I never before was under greater necessity of exercising philosophy and fortitude. A few days I passed uncomfort- ably. The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety on account of my absence and exposed situation, made sensible impressions on my heart. A thousand dreadful apprehensions presented themselves to my view, and had im- doubtedly disposed me to melancholy if further indulged. " One day I undertook a tour through the country, and the diversity and beauties of Na- ture I met ^vith in this charming season expelled every gloomy and vexatious thought. Just at the close of day the gentle gales retired, and left the place to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a conmianding ridge, 58 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. and, looking round with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, the beauteous tracts below. On the other hand, I surveyed the famous river Ohio that roiled in silent dignity, marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast di stance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows, and penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, which a few hours before I had killed. The fallen shades of night soon overspread the whole hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gape after the hovering moisture. My roving excursion this day had fatigued my body, and diverted my imagination. I laid me down to sleep, and I awoke not until the sun had chased away the night. I continued this tour, and in a few days explored a considerable part of the country, each day equally pleased as the fii'st. I returned to my old camp, which was not disturbed in my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often reposed in thick canebrakes to avoid the savages, who, I believe, often visited my LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 59 camp, but fortunately for me in my absence. In this situation I was constantly exposed to danger and deatli. How unhappy such a situ- ation for a man tormented with fear, which is vain if no danger comes, and, if it does, only augments the pain. It w^as my happiness to be destitute of this afflicting passion, with which I had the greatest reason to be affected. The prowling wolves diverted my nocturnal hours with pei-petual howlings ; and the various species of animals in this vast forest in the daytime were continually in my view. '' Thus I was suiTounded with plenty in the midst of want. I was happy in the midst of dangers and inconveniences. In such a diver- sity it was impossible I should be disposed to melancholy. No populous city, with all the varieties of commerce and stately structures, could afford so much pleasure to my mind as the beauties of Nature I found here. "Thus, through an uninterrupted scene of sylvan pleasures, I spent the time until the 27 th day of July following, when my brother, to my great felicity, met me according to appointment^ eo LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. at oiu^ old camp. Shortly after we left this place. Dot thinking it safe to stay there any longer, and proceeded to Cumberland Ei^'er, reconnoitering that part of the country until March, 1771, and giving names to the different waters. " Soon after, I returned home to my family, with a determination to bring them as soon as possible to live in Kentucky, which I esteemed a second paradise, at the risk of my life and fortune. " I returned safe to my old habitation, and found my family in happy circumstances." This extract is taken from the autobiography of Daniel Boone, written from his own dictation by John Pilson, and published in 1784. Some ^niters have censured this production as in- flated and bombastic. To us it seems simple and natural ; and we have no doubt that the very words of Boone are given for the most part. The use of glomng imagery and strong figures is by no means confined to highly-educated per- sons. Those who are illiterate, as Boone cer- tainly was, often indulge in this style. Even LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 61 the Indians are remai^kably fond of bold meta- phors and other rhetorical figures, as' is abun- dantly proved by their speeches and legends. While Boone had been engaged in his late hunting tour, other adventurers were examin- ing the rich lands south of the Ohio.'"* Even in 1770, while Boone was wandering solitary in those Kentucky forests, a band of forty hunters, led by Colonel James Knox, had gathered from the valleys of Ne^v River, Clinch, and Holston, to chase the buffaloes of the West ; nine of the foi-ty had crossed the mountains, penetrated the desei*t and almost impassable countiy about the heads of the Cumberland, and explored the re- gion on the borders of Kentucky and Tennessee. This himting party, from the length of time it was absent, is known in the traditions of the West as the party of the Long Hunters. While these bold men were penetrating the valley of the Ohio, in the region of the Cumberland Gap, others came fi'om Virginia and Pennsylvania, by the river ; among them, and in the same year that the Long Hunters were abroad (1770), * Perkins. " Aimals of the West." 02 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. came uo less noted a person than George Wash- ino-ton. His attention, as vre have before said, had been turned to the lands along the Ohio, at a very early period ; he had himself large claims, as well as far-reaching plans of settlement, and he wished with his own eyes to examine the Western lands, especially those about the mouth of the Kanawha. From the journal of his ex- pedition, published by Mr. Sparks, in the Ap- pendix to the second volume of his Washington Papers, we learn some valuable facts in reference to the position of affairs in the Ohio valley at that time. We learn, for instance, that the Vir- ginians were rapidly surveying and settling the lands south of the river as far down as the Kana- wlias ; and that the Indians, notwithstanding the treaty of Fort Stan\vix, were jealous and angry at this constant invasion of their hunting- grounds. " This jealousy and anger were not supposed to cool during the years next succeeding, and when Thomas Bullitt and his party descended the Ohio in the summer of 1773, he found that uo settlements would be tolerated south of the LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 63 river, unless the Indian lumting-grounds were left undisturbed. To leave them undisturbed was, however, no part of the plan of these white men. "This very party, which Bullitt led, and in which were the two McAfees, Hancock, Taylor, Drennon and others, separated, and while part went up the Kentucky Kiver, explored the banks, and made important surveys, including the vah ley in Avhich Frankfort stands, the remainder went on to the Falls, and laid out, in behalf of John Campbell and John Connolly, the plan of Louisville. All this took place in the summer of 1773 ; and in the autumn of that year, or early in the next, John Floyd, the deputy of Colonel William Preston, the surveyor of Fincastle County, Virginia, in which it was claimed that Kentucky was comprehended, also crossed the mountains, while General Thompson, of Penn- sylvania, made surveys upon the north fork of the Licking. When Boone, therefore, in Septem- ber, commenced his march for the West (as we shall presently relate), the choice regions which he had examined three years before w^ere known Q4: LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. to numbers, and settlers were preparing to dese- crate the silent and beautiful woods. Nor did the prospects of the English colonists stop with the settlements of Kentucky. In 1773, General Lyman, ^vith a number of militar}^ adventurers, went to Natchez and laid out several townships in that vicinity ; to which point emigration set so strongly, that we are told four hundred families passed do^vn the Ohio on their way thither, during six weeks of the summer of that year." * * Perkins. *' Annals of the West." CHAPTER VI. Daniel Boone remains two years in North Carolina after his return from the West — He prepares to emigrate to Ken- tucky — Character of the early settlers to Kentucky — The first class, hunters — The second class, small farmers — The third class, men of wealth and government ofiicers. Daniel Boone had now returned to his home on the banks of the Yadkin, after an absence of no less than two years, during which time he had not tasted, as he remarks in his autobiogra- phy, either salt, sugar, or bread. He must have enjoyed, in no ordinary degree, tlie comforts of home. Carolina, ho^vever, ^vas to be his home but for a short time. He had fully determined, to go with his family to Kentucky and settle in that lovely region. He was destined to found a State. After Boone's i*eturn to ?\'orth Carolina, more than two years passed away before he could complete the arrangements necessary for remov- ing his family to Kentucky. He sold his farm 5 ^5 66 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. on the Yadkin, which had been for many years under cultivation, and no doubt brought him a sum amply sufficient for the expenses of his journey and the furnishing of a new home in the promised land. He had, of course, to over- come the natural repugnance of his wife and children to leave the home which had become dear to them ; and he had also to enlist other adventurers to accompany him. And here we deem it proper, before entering upon the account of his departure, to quote from a cotemporary,* some general remarks on the character of the early settlers of Kentucky. ^'Throughout the United States, generally, the most erroneous notions prevail with respect to the character of the first settlers of Kentucky ; and by several of the American novelists, the most ridiculous uses have been made of the fine materials for fiction which lie scattered over nearly the whole extent of that region of daring adventure and romantic incident. The common idea seems to be, that the first \\'anderers to Kentucky were a simple, ignorant, low-bred, * W. D. Gallagher, " Hesperian," Vol. II., p. 89. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 67 gocKl-for-notliiiig set of fellows, who left the frontiei's and sterile places of the old States, where a considerable amount of labor was nec- essary to secure a livelihood, and sought the new and fertile country southeast of the Ohio Elver and northwest of the Cumberland Mountains, where corn would produce bread for them with simply the labor of planting, and where the achievements of their guns would supply them with meat and clothing ; a set of men who, with that instinct which belongs to the beaver, built a numljer of log cabins on the banks of some secluded stream, which they surrounded with palisades for the better protection of their wives and children, and then went wandering about, with guns on their shoulders, or traps under their arms, leading a solitary, listless, ruminat' ing life, till aroused by the appearance of dan- ger, or a sudden attack from unseen enemies, when instantly they approved themselves the bravest of warriors, and the most expert of strategists. The romancers who have attempted to describe their habits of life and delineate their characters, catching this last idea, and im- 68 LIFE OF DANIEL iBOONE. agiuiug tilings probable of tlie countiy they were in, have drawn the one in lines the most gi'o tesque and absurd, and colored the other with a pencil dipped in all hues but the right. To them the early pioneers appear to have been people of a character demi-devil, demi-savage, nol only without the remains of former ci^dlization, but without even the recollection that they had been born and bred where people were, at the least, measurably sane, somewhat reli- giously inclined, and, for the most, civilly behaved. " Both of these conceptions of the character ol the Pioneer Fathers are, to a certain extent, cor- rect as regards individuah among them; but the pictures which have often been given us, even when held up beside such individuah^ will prove to be exaggerations in more respects than one. Daniel Boone is an individual instance of a man plunging into the depths of an un- known Avilderness, shunning rather than seek- ing contact Avith his kind, his gun and trap the only companions of his solitude, and ^vandering about thus for months, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 69 • No mark upon the tree, nor print, nor track, To lead him forward, or to guide him back, contented and happy ; yet, for all this, if those ,vho knew him Avell had any true conception ol his character, Boone was a man of ambition and shrewdness, and energy, and fine social qnalities, and extreme sagacity. And mdnid- ual instances there may have been-though even this possibility is not sustained by the primitive histories of those times-of men who were so far ordre to the usual course of then- kind as to have afforded originals for the Sam JIuffcjs,the Nimrod Wildfires, the Ralph Stach pohs the Tom Brnces, and the EarthquaJces., .vhich so abound in most of those fictions whose hcaleiB the Western country. But that natur- alist who should attempt, by ever so minute a description of a pied blackbird, to give his readers acorrectideaofthe Cfracvlu Ferrugineaoi omi- thologists, would not more utterly fail of accom- plishing his object, than have the authors whose creations we have named, by delineating such individual instances— by holding up, as it were, such mtre specimens of an original class-failed 70 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. to convey anything like an accurate impression of the habits, customs, and general character of the Western pioneers. ** Daniel Boone, and those who accompanied tim into the wildernesses of Kentucky, had been little more than hunters in their original homes, on the frontiers of North Carolina ; and, with the exception of their leader, but little more than hunters did they continue after their emigration. The most glowing accounts of the beauty and fertility of the country northwest of the Laiu-el Eidge, had reached their ears from Finley and his companions ; and they shouldered their guns, strapped their wallets upon their backs and wandered thi'ough the Cumberland Gap into the dense forests, and thick brakes, and beautiful plains which soon opened upon their visions, more to indulge a habit of roving, and gratify an excited curi- osity, than from any other motive ; and, arrived upon the head-waters of the Kentucky, they built themsehes rude log cabins, and spent most of their lives in hunting and eating, and fighting marauding bands of Indians. Of ^ Lli E OF DANIEL BOONE. Yl Similar character were the earliest Virginians, who penetrated these wildernesses. The very first, indeed, who wandered from the parent State over tlie Laurel Ridge, down into the unknown regions on its northwest, came avow- edly as hunters and ti'appers; and such of them as escaped the tomahawk of the Indian, with very few exceptions, remained hunters and trappers till their deaths. " But this iirst class of pioneers was not either numerous enough, or influential enough, to stamp its character upon the after-coming hundreds ; and the second class of immigrants into Ken- tucky was composed of very different materials. Small farmers from IS^orth Carolina, Virginia, and Pennsylvania, for the most part, constituted this ; and these daring adventurers brought with them intelligent and aspiring minds, in- dustrious and persevering habits, a few of the comforts of civilized life, and some of the im- plements of husbandry. A number of them were men who had received the rudiments of an English education, and not a few of them had Deen reared up in the spirit, and a sincere 72 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. observance of the forms, of religious worship. Many, perhaps most of them, were from the frontier settlements of the States named ; and these combined the habits of the hunter and agriculturist, and possessed, Avith no inconsid- erable knowledge of partially refined life, all til at boldness and energy, which subsequently became so distinctive a trait of the character of the early settlers. " This second class of the pioneers, or at least the mass of those ^^ho constituted it, sought the plains and forests, and streams of Kentucky, not to induk'e anv inclination for listless ram- blings ; nor as hunters or trappers ; nor yet for the purpose of gratifying an awakened curi- osity : they came deliberately, soberly, thought- fully, in searcli of a liome^ determined, fi^om the outset, to win one, or perish in the attempt ; they came to cast their lot in a land that Avas neiv, to better their worldly condition by the acqui- sition of demesnes, to build up a new common- wealth in an unpeopled region ; they came with their wives, and their children, and their kin- (^liv^, he resolved to throw a body, if possible, into their rear. As the rrood fortune of the LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 85 Virginians tiuiied, the hank of the river fa- vored this project, and forthwith three com- panies Avere detached upon the enterprise, under the three captains, Isaac Shelby (after renowned in the revolution, and since in the war with Canada), George Matthews, and John Stewart. These companies got unobserved to their place of destination upon Crooked Creek, which nms into the Kanawha. From the high weeds upon the bank of this little stream, they rushed upon the backs of the Indians with such fury, as to drive them from their works with precipitation. The day was now decided. The Indians, thus beset from a quarter they did not expect, were ready to conclude that a reinforcement had arrived. It was about sunset when they fled across the Ohio, and immediately took up their march for their to^vns on the Scioto." Of the loss of both Indians and whites in this engagement, various statements have been given. A number amounting to seven ty-iive killed and one hundred and forty wounded of the ^vhites has been rendered ; with a loss on part of the 86 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Indians not so gi^eat, but not correctly known,* This was the severest battle ever fought with the Indians in Virginia. Shortly after this battle the Indians sent messengers to Governor Dunmore, suing for peace, and a treaty was ac- cordingly concluded. In this treaty the Indians surrendered all claim to Kentucky. The Six Nations had already done the same thing at the Treaty of Fort Stanwix in 1768. The Chero- kees had sold their claims to Henderson's com- pany ; so that when Boone settled in Kentucky it was effectually cleared of all Indian titles. • ** History of the Backwoods." CHAPTER Vni. The militia discharged— Captain Boone returns to his family — Henderson's company — Various companies of emigrants to Kentucky— Bounty lands— Harrod's party builds the first log-cabin erected in Kentucky, and founds Harrods- burg — Proceedings of Henderson's company — Agency of Captain Boone — He leads a company to open a road to Kentucky River — Conflicts with the Indians — Captain Boone founds Boonesborough — His own account of this ex- pedition—His letter to Henderson— Account of Colonel Henderson and the Transylvania Company— Failure of the scheme— Probability of Boone having been several years in the service of Henderson. On the conclusion of Dimmore's war, the militia were discharged from service, the gar- risons which had been under Captain Daniel Boone's command were broken up, and he once more returned to his family, who were still residing on Clinch River. But he was not long permitted to remain comparatively idle. Cap- tain Boone's character as an able officer and a bold pioneer was now well known and appre- ciated by the public. The marks of confidence 87 88 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. bestowed on liim by Governor Dunmore rendered liim one of tbe most conspicuous men in the Southern colonies, and his services were soon to be put in requisition by the most considerable and remarkable of all the parties of adventurers who ever sought a home in the West. This was Henderson's company, called the Transylvania Company, to whose proceedings we shall pres- ently refer. Between 1769 and 1773, various associations of men were fonned, in Virginia and North Caro- lina, for visiting the newly-discovered regions and locating lands ; and several daring adven- turers at different times during tliis period pene- trated to the head-waters of the Licking Elver, and did some surveying ; but it was not till the year 1774 that the w^hites obtained any perma- nant foothold in Kentucky. From this year, therefore, properly dates the commencement of the early settlements of the State.* The first great impetus given to adventure in Kentucky ^vas by the bounty in Western lands given by Virginia to the officers and soldiers of * Gallagher. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 89 her own troops Avho had served in the British array in the old war in Canada between the English and French. These lands ^\ ere to be surveyed on the Ohio Ri^^er and its tributaries by the claimants thus created, who had the priv- ilege of selecting them wherever they pleased within the prescribed regions. The first loca- tions were made upon the Great Kanawha in the year 1772 and the next on the south side of the Ohio itself the following year. During this year likew^ise, extensive tracts of land were lo- cated on the north fork of the Licking, and surveys made of several salt licks, and other choice spots. But 1774 was more signalized than had been any preceding year by the arri- val, in the new " land of promise," of the claim- ants to portions of its territory, and the execu- tion of surveys. Among the hardy adventurers who descended the Ohio this year and penetrated to the interior of Kentucky by the river of that name, was James Harrod, wdio led a party of Vii'ginians from the shores of the Monongahela. He disembarked at a point still known as " Harrod's Landing," and, crossing the country 90 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. in a direction nearly west, paused in the midst of a beautiful and fertile region, and huilt the first log-cabin ever erected in Kentucky, on or neai' the site of the present town of Harrodsburg. This was in the spring, or early part of the sum- mer, of 1774 * The high-wrought descriptions of tlie country- northwest of the Laurel Ridge, which were given by Daniel Boone upon his return to North Carolina after his first long visit to Kentucky, cir- culated with great rapidity throughout the entire State, exciting the avarice of speculators and in flaming the imaginations of nearly all classes of people. The organization of several companies, for the purpose of pushing adventure in the new regions and acquiring rights to land, was imme- diately attempted ; but that which commenced under the auspices of Colonel Richard Hendei^on, a gentleman of education and means, soon en- gaged public attention by the extent and bold- ness of its scheme, and the energy of its move- ments ; and either frightened fi'om their purpose, or attracted to its own ranks, the principal of ♦ GaUagher. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 91 those individuals \vlio had at first been active in endeavoring to form other associations. The wliole of tliat vast extent of country lying withiu the natural boundaries constituted by the Ohio, Kentucky, and Cumberland rivers, was at tliis time claimed by a portion of the Cherokee Indians, who resided within the limits of North Carolina ; and the scheme of Henderson's com- pany was nothing less than to take possession of this inunense tenitory, under color of a purchase from those Indians, which they intended to make, and the preliminary negotiations for which were opened with the Cherokees, through the agency of Daniel Boone, as soon as the com- pany was fully organized. Boone's mission to the Indians ha^ang been attended with complete success, and the result thereof being conveyed to the company, Colonel Henderson at once started for Port "Wataga, on a branch of the Holston River, fully authorized to effect the purchase ; and here, on the 17th of March, 1775, he met the Indians In solemn council, delivered them a satisfactory consideration in merchandise, and received a deed signed by their head chiefs. 92 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. The pui-cliase made, the next important step was to take possession of the territory thus ac- quired. The proprietors were not slow to do this, but immediately collected a small company of brave and hardy men, which they sent into Kentucky, under the direction of Daniel Boone, to open a road from the Holston to the Ken- tucky River, and erect a Station at the mouth of Otter Creek upon this latter. After a laborious and hazardous inarch through the wilderness, during which four men were killed, and five others wounded, by trail- ing and skulking parties of hostile Indians, Eoone and his company reached the banks of the KcDtucky on the first of April, and descend- ing this some fifteen miles, encamped upon the spot where Boonesborough now stands. Here the bushes were at once cut down, the ground leveled, the nearest trees felled, the foundations laid for a fort, and the first settlement of Ken- tucky commenced. Perhaps the reader would like to see Boone's own account of these proceedings. Here is the passage ^vhere he mentions it in his autobi- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 95 ogi'aphy. He has just been speaking of Gov- ernor Dunmore's war against the Shawanese Indians : " After the conclusion of which, he says, the militia was discharged from each gar- rison, and I being relieved from my post, was solicited by a number of North Carolina gentle- men, that were about purchasing the lands lying on the south side of Kentucky River from the Cherokee Indians, to attend thoir treaty at AVataga, in March, 1775, to negotiate with them, and mention the boundaries of the pur- chase. This I accepted ; and at the request of the same gentlemen, undertook to mark out a road in the best passage through the wilderness to Kentucky with such assistance as I thought necessaiy to employ for such an important un- dertaking. " I soon began this ^vork, having collected a number of enterprising men, well armed. We proceeded with all possible expedition until we came within fifteen miles of where Boones- borough now stands, and where we were fired upon by a party of Indians, that killed two and wounded two of our number ; yet, although 94 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. surprised and taken at a disadvantage, we stood our ground. This was on tlie twentieth of March, 1775. Three days after we were fired upon again, and had two men killed and three wounded. Afterward we proceeded on to Ken- tucky River without opposition, and on the fifth day of x\pril began to erect the fort of Boonesborough at a salt-lick, about sixty yards from the river, on the south side." " On the fourth day, the Indians killed one of our men. AVe were busily engaged in build- ing the fort, until the foui-teenth day of June following, without any further opposition from the Indians." In addition to this account by Captain Boone, we have another in a sort of official report made by him to Colonjel Richard Henderson, the head of the company in whose service Boone was then employed. It is cited by Peck in his Life of Boone as follows : f ''April im, 1775. " Dear Colonel : After my compliments to j^ou, I shall acquaint you with oui' misfoi*tune. T.IFE OF DANIEL BOONE, 95 On March the 25th a party of Indians fired on my company about half an hour before day, and killed Mr. Twitty and his negro, and wounded Mr. Walker very deeply; but I hope he will recover. '' On March the 28th, as we were hunting for provisions, we found Samuel Tate's son, who gave us an account that the Indians fired on their camp on the 27th day. My brother and I went down and found two men killed and scalped, Thomas McDoAvell and Jeremiah Mc- Peters. I have sent a man down to all the lower companies in order to gather them all to the mouth of Otter Creek. My advice to you, sir, is to come or send as soon as possible. Your company is desired greatly, for the people are very uneasy, but are willing to stay and venture their lives with you, and now is the time to frustrate their (the Indians,) intentions, and keep the countiy whilst we are in it. If we give w^ay to them now, it will ever be the case, This day w^e start from the battle-ground for the mouth of Otter Creek, where we shall im- mediately erect a fort which will be done before 96 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. you can come or send ; then we can send ten men to meet you if you send for them. " I am, sir, your most obedient, "Daniel Boone. ** N. B. — We stood on the ground and guard, ed our baggage till day, and lost nothing. We have about fifteen miles to Cantuck, at Otter Creek.'' Colonel Henderson was one of the most remai^kable men of his time. He was born in Hanover County, Virginia, April 20th, 1735, the same year with Boone. He studied law, and was appointed judge of the Superior Court of North Carolina under the Colonial Government. The troubled times of the Regulators shut up the courts of justice. In 1774 he engaged in his grand scheme of founding the republic of Tran- sylvania, and united with liim John Williams, Leonard Hendly Bullock, of Granville ; William Johnston, James Hogg, Thomas Hart, John Luttrell, Nathaniel Hart, and Dadd Hart, of Orange County, in the company which made LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 97 the purchase of the immense tract of lands abore referred to. The company took possession of the lands on the 20th of April, 1775 ; the Indians appointing an agent to deliver them accoi'ding to law. The Governor of North Carolina, Martin, issued his proclamation in 1775, declaring this purchase illegal. The State subsequently granted 200,000 acres to the company in lieu of this. The State of Virginia declared the same, but gi'anted the company a remuneration of 200,000 acres, bounded by the Ohio and Green rivers. The State of Tennessee claimed the lands, but made a similar grant to the company in Powell's Valle^r. Thus, though the original scheme of founding an independent republic failed, the company made their fortunes by the speculation. Henderson died at his seat in Granville, January 30, 1785, universally beloved and respected. What makes Henderson and his company particularly interesting to the admirei^ of Daniel Boone is, the strong probability that the purchase of the Cherokees was made on his I 9.8 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. representation and by his advice. This is the opinion of Judge Hall and of Mi\ Peck, who also believe that Boone was already in the service of Henderson when he made his long journey to Kentucky. " This theory," says Mr. Peck, " ex- plains why his brother, Squire Boone, came out with supplies, and why they examined the country so fully and particularly between the Kentucky and Cumberland rivers," CHAPTER IX. Description of the Old Fort at Boonesborough-Usual meth^ odB of fortification against the Indians-Amval o£ mo.e settlers at Boonesborougli-Captain Boone returns to the CUnrRiver to bring out his tamily-He enlists new emi- grants and starts for Kentucky-Reinforced by a large Ltv at Powell's Valley-Arrival at Boonesborou^h-Ar- Hval of many new settlers at Boonesborough and Harrods seXment-Ai-rival of Kenton, Floyd, the McAfees, and ::"« m^inguished persons-Arrival of Colonel Richard Callaway. As the old fort at Boonesborougli became so celebrated in the Indian wars which followed its erection, our readers may be curious to know what sort of structure it was. We have ac cordingly copied from a print in Collins' His- torical Sketches of Kentucky a view of the fort, from a di^awing made by Colonel Henderson himself, and the following description : " It was situated adjacent to the river, with one of the angles resting on its bank near the water, and extending from it in the form of a parallelo- loo Lli E OF DANIEL BOONE. gram. The length of the foi*t, allowing twenty feet for each cabin and opening, must have "been about two hundred and sixty and the breadth one hundred and fifty feet. In a few days after the work was commenced, one of the men was killed by the Indians." The houses, being built of hewn logs, were bullet-proof. They ^vere of a square form, and one of them projected from each corner, being connected by stockades. The remaining space on the four sides, as wW] be seen by the engraving, was filled up with cabins erected of rough logs, placed close together. The gates were on opposite sides, made of thick slabs of timber, and hung on wooden hinges. This was in accordance mth the fashion of the day. " A fort, in those rude military times," says Butler,* " consisted of pieces of timber sharp- ened at the end, and firmly lodged in the ground: rows of these pickets enclosed the desired space, which embraced the cabins of the inhabitants. A block-house or more, of su- perior care and strength, commanding the sides * History of Kentucky, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^ 1(>1 of the fort, with or without a ditch, completed the fortifications or Stations, as they were called. Generally the sides of the interior cabins formed the sides of the fort. Slight as this advance was in the art of war, it was more than suffi- cient against attacks of small arms in the hands of such desultory warriors as their irregular supply of pro\nsions necessarily rendered the Indians. Such Avas the nature of the military structures of the provision against their enemies. They were ever more formidable in the cane- brakes and in the woods than before even these imperfect fortifications." We have seen in Boone's own account that the fort at Boonesborough was completed on the 14th of June, 1774:. The buildings neces- sary for the accommodation aud safety of the little colony, and of the relatives and friends by whom they expected to be joined during the summer and fall, were completed about this time. Colonel Henderson, Mr. John Luttrell, and Mr. Nathaniel Hart, three of the proprie- tors, arrived at the station, which was now named Boonesborough, in compliment to the 102 LIFE OF l^AXIEL BOONE. intrepid pioneer. These gentlemen brought ont with them between thirty and forty new settlers, a goodly number of pack-horses, and some of the neeessanes of civilized life ; and the Station, upon which various improvements were soon made, at once became quite a bustling, life-like, important military place. Much pleased with the manner in which he had com- menced the settlement of a new commonwealth, and laid the foundations of what he doubted not was soon to become a great city, Boone took a part of his men and returned to the set- tlement on Clinch River, for the purpose of setting an example to others by moving out his own family. The daring pioneer was now in high spirits, and more than ever enraptm^ed with the deep forests and rich plains of Kentucky. He sounded their praises without intermission among the settlers on Clinch River, and soon induced a number of persons to agree to accom- pany him on his retain to Boonesborough. He then went about making his domestic arrange- ments, for a final removal to Kentucky, with LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 103 great energy ; and these being soon completed^ in September or October he turned his back upon his old home forever, and started with his family and a iew followers to^vard that which his unsurpassed daring and rude skill had pre- pared for them in a new land. In Powell's Valley he found Hugh McGary, Eichard Hogan, and Thomas Denton, ^vith their families and followers, awaiting hi s arri v al. His companions, as now increased, amounted to tw^enty-six men, four women, and four or five boys and girls, perhaps half-gTo^^ni ; and placing himself at the head of this interesting little colony, he proudly led it through the Cumberland Gap into the wilderness beyond, where it was destined to be the germ of a great State. When this pai*ty had anived at the head of Dick's River, McGary, Denton, and Hogan, with their families and a few followers, separated themselves from the rest, and struck through the forest for the spot where Harrod and his Monongahelians had built their cabin the year before. Boone, with the main body of the party, continued his original course, and in due time J 04 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. aiTived safely at Boonesborougli ; "and Mrs. Boone and Iter daughter," it is always recorded with an air of pleasant exultation by tlie admirers of the old pioneer, "were the earliest white women in that region, and the first of their sex and color that ever stood upon the banks of the wild and beautiful Kentucky." During the latter part of the year 1775, a great many adventurers and surveyors, princi- pally from Virginia and North Carolina, made their appearance in Kentucky ; and for all such Boonesborougli was a place of general rendez- vous. Some united themselves to Boone's col- ony, and remained permanently at his Station : others clustered around Harrod's Old Cabin, and the Fort which had by this time been erected by Logan, and made "improvements" in the vicinity of each ; but most of them returned to their several homes after having made such locations and surveys as they thought proper. Among those by whom Boone was visited in the course of this year were several men who have subsequently rendered very important ser\'ices in the settlement of the West, and t^t- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 105 tained great and deserved celebrity : such were Simon Kenton, John Floyd, the four brothers McAfee, and others. A tolerably good road, sufficient for the passage of pack-horses in single file, had been opened from the settlements on the Holston to Boonesborough, by the party which Boone led out early in the following spring, and this now became the thoroughfare for other adventurers, a number of whom re- moved their families from North Carolina to Kentucky, and settled at Boonesborough, dur- ing tlie fall and winter of this year. Colonel Richard Callaway was one of these, and there were others of equal respectability. CHAPTER X. Disturbed state of the country in 1775— Breaking out of the Revolutionary war — Exposed situation of the Kentucky settlements— Hostility of the Indians excited by the Brit- ish — First political convention in the West — Capture of Boone's daughter and the daughters of Colonel Callavvay by the Indians — Their rescue by a party led by Boone and Cal- laway — Increased caution of the colonists at Boonesborough — Alarm and desertion of the Colonies in the West by land speculators and other adventurers — A reinforcement of forty-five men from North Carolina arrive at Boones- borough—Indian attack on Boonesborough in April— An- other attack in July— Attack on Logan's Fort, and siege- Attack on Harrodsburg. The reader will iiot fail to remai^k that the period at which Daniel Boone commenced the settlement of Kentucky was the most eventful one in the history of our country. In the year 1775 hostilities between Great Britain and her American Colonies commenced at Lexington and Concord, and the whole country was mustering in arms at the time when Boone and the other Western emigrants were forming settle- ments four hundred miles beyond the frontieii 106 LiPE OF DAxNIEl. BOO.NE. 10? of Vii'gmia and tlie Carolinas. Encouraged by the treaty of Lord Dunmore with the Indians in 1774, and knowing the Indian titles to the lands they were occuxDying to have been extin- guished, they naturally counted on an unmolested possession of the region they were settling. But in this expectation they were sorely disa^)- pointed. The English officers and agents in the Northwest were indefatigable in stimulating the Indians to attack the American colonists in every quarter. They supplied them with arms and anununition, bribed them with money, and aided and encouraged them to attack the feeble settlements in Kentucky and Tennessee. But Providence overruled these circumstances for the benefit of the "Western country. "The settlement of Kentucky led to the conquest of the British posts in Illinois and Indiana, in 1778, and eventually threw the wide valleys of the West under control of the American Union." * The settlers in Kentucky in 1775 were still acting under the belief that the claims purchased * Peck, " Life of Daniel Boone." 108 LIFE OF DA^^IEL BOONE. by Henderson and Company from the Cherokees were valid, and that " the Proprietors of the Colony of Transylvania " were really founding a political State. Under this impression they took leases from the Company, and in the course of the year, eighteen delegates assembled in convention at Boonesborough, and acknowl- edged the Company as lawful proprietors, " es- tablished courts of justice, and rules for proceed- ing therein ; also a militia law, a law for the preservation of game, and for appointing civil and militia officers." ^* This was the first po- litical convention ever held in the Western Valley for the f oiTaation of a free government.f The winter and spring of 1776 J were passed by the little colony of Boonesborough in hunt- ing, fishing, clearing the lands immediately con- tiguous to the station, and putting in a crop of com. The colonists were molested but once by * Butler. " History of Kentucky." f Peck. " Life of Daniel Boone." X BIr, Peck mentions the spring of 1776, as the date of the arrival at Boonesborough of Colonel Richard Callaway, and an intimate friend of Boone, with his family, and the family of Benjamin Logan, who had returned for them the preced- ing autumn. LIFli OF DANIEL BOONE. 109 their enemies during the winter, when one n}an was killed by a small band of marauding Indians, who suddenly appeared in the vicinity, and as suddenly departed. In the middle summer months, an incident of a thrilling character occurred, which cast a deep but only momentary shadow upon the little society of Boonesborough. This was the cap- ture, by some skulking Indians belonging to a numerous band who were now prowling through the woods and brakes of Kentucky, and occa- sionally approaching the settlements for the purpose of plunder, of three young females, members of the families of Boone and Callaway. This incident, which has been taken as the groundwork of two or three Western fictions, and also had thrown around it all the warm coloring of romance, by writers professing to deal only with the authentic, is thus briefly related in the papers of Colonel John Floyd, as quoted by Mr. Butler : " On the Tth of July, 1776, the Indians took out of a canoe which was in the river, mthin mgbt of Boonesborough, Miss Betsey Callawa)^ 1 10 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. her sister Frances, and a daughter of Daniel Boone. The last two were about thirteen or fourteen years of age, and the other grown. " The affair happened late in the afternoon, and the spoilers left the canoe on the opposite side of the river from us, which prevented our getting over for some time to pursue them. Next morning by daylight we were on the track, but found they had totally prevented our following them by walking some distance apart through the thickest cane they could find. We observed their course, however, and on which side they had left their sign, and traveled upward of thirty miles. We then imagined that they would be less cautious in traveling, and made a turn in order to cross their trace, and had gone but a few miles before we found their tracks in a buffalo-path. "Pursuing this for the distance of about ten miles, we overtook them just as they were kindling a fire to cook. Our study had been more to get the prisoners without giving their captors time to murder them after they should discover us, than to kill the Indians. " We discovered each other nearly at the same LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. HI time. Four of our party fired, and then all rushed upon tliem, which prevented their caiTving anything away except one shot-gun without any ammunition. Mr. Boone and my- self had a pretty fair shot, just as they began to move off. I am well convinced I shot one through ; the one he shot dropped his gun, mine had none. " The place ^vas very thick ^sith cane, and being so much elated on recovering the three little broken-hearted girls, prevented our mak- ing any further search. We sent them off* without moccasins, and not one of them with so much as a knife or a tomahawk." Although the people of the little colony of Boonesborough were not aware of the fact at the time, the marauding Indians who thus cap- tured Miss Boone and the Misses Callaway, as they were amusing themselves by paddling about the foot of the rock in the canoe, were one of the many scouting parties of Indians who were scattered about watching all the dif- ferent settlements in Kentucky, and preparing to attack them. The incident of the captui*e of 112 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tlie girls spread an alarm, and guai^ds were stationed to defend the hands who were engaged in cultivating the ground. Toward autumn the alarm of Indian hostili- ties, and the knowledge that war was raging throughout the Colonies east of the mountains, excited so much alarm, that some three hun- dred land speculators and other adventurers deserted the Western country and returned to their old homes.* AVith the exception of the capture of the young girls mentioned above, no incident is re- corded as having disturbed the tranquillity of Boonesborough during the year 1776. An occasional immigrant added a new member to its little society, who assisted in the labors of the hardy colonists on the surrounding grounds. But its numbers received no considerable in- crease till the following summer, when (25th July, 1777) a party of immigrants from North Carolina, consisting of forty-iive men, arrived in the country, and took uj) their first abode in the wilderness at Boonesborougrli ♦?©ck. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 113 This -was a fortunate circumstance for that station and great cause of rejoicing among all the settlements, for there were none of them that had not been much molested by the In- dians since the opening of spring, and one or two of them had undergone long and regular Indian sieges. Boonesborougli had been surrounded by about one hundred of the enemy, as early as the middle of April, 1777, and fiercely attacked. But the Indians were so warmly received by the garrison on this occasion, that they in a very little time withdrew, having killed one of the settlers and wounded four others. Their own loss could not be ascertained. Increased to two hundred warriors, this party had returned to the attack of Boonesborough on the fourth of July.*''* On the present occasion, having sent detachments to alarm and annoy the neighboring settlements, in order that no reinforcements should be sent to Boonesborough, the Indians encamped about the place, with the object of attempting its reduction by a regular * Gallagher, iU LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. siege. After a close and vigorous attack for two (lays and nights, in which they succeeded in killing but one man and wounding four others, the Indians, losing all hope of success, suddenly, and ^vith gi'eat clamor, raised the siege, and disappeared in the adjacent forest. Their own loss was seven warriors, whose fall was noted from the fort. After this attack, Boonesborongh was dis- turbed no more by the Indians during the year. Had it been after the arrival of the immigrants above referred to, it would, in all probability, have taught its indefatigable enemies a lesson such as they had never then received at the hands of the Kentiickians. But notmthstanding these two considerable attacks, and the " signs " of Indians in the sur- rounding forests for the whole summer, the men continued to clear the lands adjacent to the Station, and to cultivate corn and garden vege- tables, some always keeping a vigilant look-out while the others labored. For supplies of meat they depended upon the forests, each of the men taking his turn as a hunter, at great hazard. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 115 Meantime, the other settlements in Kentucky had suffered attacks from the Indians. Logan^s Fort was invested by a force of one hundred Indians on the 20th of May, 1777, and after sustaining a vigorous siege for several days, was finally relie^'ed by the timely arrival of a rein- forcement commanded by Colonel Bowman. On the 7th of March, 1777, the fort of Harrods- burg, then called Harrodstown, was assailed by a body of Indians, but they were speedily driven off, one of their number being killed. The whites had four men wounded, one of whom afterward died of his wounds. CHAPTER XI. Arrival of George Rogers Clark in Kentucky— Anecdote of his conversation with Ray— Clark and Jones chosen as del- egates for the Colonies to the Virginia Legislature— Clark's important services in obtaining a political organization for Kentucky, and an abundant supply of gunpowder from the government of Virginia— Great labor and difficulty in bringing the powder to Harrodstown — Clark's expedition against Kaskaskias— Surprise and capture of their fort- Perilous and difficult march to Vincennes — Surprise and capture of that place— Extension of the Virginian settle- ments — Erection of Fort Jefferson. Among tlie most celebrated pioneers of the West was General George Rogers Clark, who, at the time we are now writing of, bore the rank of Major. Anxious for the protection of the Western settlements, he ^vsiS already plan- ning his celebrated conquest of the British posts in the Northwest. He first came to Kentucky in 1775 and pene- trated to Harrodsburg, which had been reoc- cupied by Colonel Harrod. In this A^sit, from his well-known and commanding talents, he was voluntarily placed in command of the ir« 116 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 117 regular troops then iu Kentucky. In the fall he returned to Virginia, and came back again to Kentucky in 1776. Mr. Butler relates the following anecdote, received from the lips of General Eay, as liaving occurred Avith General Clark upon his second visit: "I had come down," said General Eay, '' to where I now live (about four miles north of Harrodsburg), to turn some horses in the range. I had killed a small blue-wing duck that was feeding in my spring, and had roasted it nicely on the brow of the hill, about twenty steps east of my house. After having taken it oif to cool, I was much surprised on being suddenly accosted by a fine soldierly-looking man, who exclaimed, ' How do you do, my little fellow ? What is your name ? Ain't you afraid of being in the Avoods by your- self ? ' On satisfying his inquiries, I invited the traveler to partake of my duck, which he did, mthout leaving me a bone to pick, his ap- petite was so keen, though he should have been welcome to all the game I could have killed, when I after^vard became acquainted ^vith his no})le and gallant soul." After satisfying his 118 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. I questions, he inciuired of the stranger Ms own name and business in this remote region. " My name is Clark," he answered, " and I have come out to see ^vhat you brave fellows are doing in Kentucky, and to lend you a helping hand if necessaiy." General Kay, then a boy of sixteen, conducted Clark to Harrodsburg, where he spent his time in observation on the condition and .prospects of the country, natural to his compre- hensive mind, and assisting at eveiy oppor- tunity in its defense. At a general meeting of the settlers at Har- rodstown, on the 6th of June, 1775, General George Rogers Clark and Gabriel John Jones were chosen to represent them in the Assembly of Virginia. This, however, was not precisely the thing contemplated by Clark."^ He mshed that the people should appoint agents^ with general powers to negotiate with the government of Virginia, and in the event that that common- wealth should refuse to recognize the colonists as ^vithin its jurisdiction and under its protec* * Collins, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 119 tion, lie proposed to employ the lands of the country as a fund to obtain settlers and establish an independent State. The election had, how- ever, gone too far to change its object when Clark arrived at Harrodstown, and the gentlemen elected, although aware that the choice could give them no seat in the Legislature, proceeded to Williamsburg, at that time the seat of govern- ment. After suffering the most severe priva- tions in theii' journey through the wilderness, the delegates found, on their arrival in Virginia, that the Legislature had adjourned, whereupon Jones directed his steps to the settlements on the Holston, and left Clark to attend to the Kentucky mission alone. He immediately waited on Governor Henry, then lying sick at his residence in Hanover County, to whom he stated the objects of his journey. These meeting the approbation of the governor, he gave Clark a letter to the Execu- tive Council of the State. With this letter in his hand he appeared before the Council, and after acquainting them fully \vith the condition and circumstances of the colony, he made ap- 120 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. plication for live hundred- weight of giinpoAvder for the defense of the various stations. But with every disposition to assist and promote the growth of these remote and infant settle- ments, the Council felt itself restrained, by the uncertain and indefinite state of the relations existing between the colonists and the State of Virginia, from com2:)lying fully with his de- mand. The Kentuckians had not yet been recognized by the Legislature as citizens, and the proprietary claimants, Henderson & Co. were at this time exerting themselves to obtain from Virginia a relinquishment of her juris- diction over the ne^v territory. The Council, therefore, could only afford to lend the gun- powder to the colonists as friends, not give it to them SiS felloiv-citizens:^ At the same time, they required Clark to be personally responsible for its value, in the event the Legislature should refuse to recognize the Kentuckians as citizens, and in the meantime to defray the expense of its conveyance to Ken- tucky. Upon these terms he did not feel at * CoUins. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 121 liberty to accept tlie proffered assistance. He represented to the Council, that the emissaries of the British were enipk^ying every means to engage the Indians in the war ; that the people in the remote and exposed Stations of Kentucky might be exterminated for the want of a supply which he, a private individual, had, at so much hazard and hardship, sought for their relief, and that, when this frontier bulwark was thus de- stroyed, the fury of the savages would burst like a tempest upon the heads of their own citizens. To these representations, however, the Council remained inexorable; the sympathy for the frontier settlers was deep, but the assistance already offered Avas a stretch of power, and they could go no further. The keeper of the public magazine was directed to deli^ er the powder to Clark ; but having long reflected on the situa- tion, prospects, and resources of the new country, his resolution to reject the assistance, on the proposed conditions, was made before he left the Council chamber. He determined to repair to Kentucky, as he had at first contemplated, to exert the resources i<22 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. of the country for the formation of an Lutepen- chnt State. He accordingly returned the order of the Council in a letter, setting forth his reasons for declining to accept their powder on these terms, and intimating his design of applying for assistance elsewhere, adding "that a country which was not worth defending was not worth claiming." On the receipt of this letter the Council recalled Clark to their presence, and an order was passed on the 28d of August, 1776, for the transmission of the gunpowder to Pitts- bm'g, to be there delivered to Clark, or his order, for the use of the people of Kentucky. This was the first act in that long and affectionate in- terchange of good offices which subsisted be- tween Kentucky and her parent State for so many years ; and obvious as the reflection is, it may not be omitted, that on the successful ter- mination of this negotiation hung the connection between Virginia and the splendid domain she afterward acquired west of the Alleghany Moun« tains. At the fall session of the Legislature of Virginia, Messrs. Jones and Clark laid the Ken- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 123 tucky memorial before that body. They were, of course, not admitted to seats, though late in the session they obtained, in opposition to the exertions of Colonels Hendei-son and Campbell, the formation of the territory, which now comprises the present State of that name, into the County of Kentucky. The first efficient political organization of Kentucky ^vas thus obtained thi'ough the sagacity, influence, and exertions of George Eogers Clark, who must be ranked as the earliest founder of that com- monwealth. This act of the Virginia Legisla- ture first gave it form and a political existence, and entitled it, under the constitution of Yir- ginia, to a representation in tlie Assembly, as well as to a judicial and military establishment. Having obtained these important advantages from their mission, they received the intelligence that the powder was still at Pittsburg, and they determined to take that point in theii^ route home and carry it mth them. The country around Pittsburg swarmed with Indians, e^ddently hostile tc the whites, who would no doubt seek to interrupt their voyage. 124 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. These circumstances created a necessity for the utmost caution as well as expedition in their movements, and they accordingly hastily em- barked on the Ohio ^vith only seven boatmen. They were hotly jDursued the whole way by Indians, but succeeded in keeping in advance until they ariived at the mouth of Limestone Creek, at the spot where the cit}' of Maysville now stands. They ascended this creek a short distance with their boat, and concealed their cargo at different places in the woods along its banks. They then turned their boat adrift, and directed their course to Harrodstown, in- tending to retiu-n with a sufficient escort to in- sure the safe transportation of the powder to its destination. This in a short time ^vas success- fully effected, and the colonists were thus abun- dantly supplied with the means of defense against the fierce enemies who beset them on all sides.* It was foi-tunate for Virginia, says a recent writer, f that she had at this time, on her western borders, an individual of rare military * Collins. " Historical Sketches of Kentucky." t Howe. J' Historical Collections of Virginia.**^ LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. I2a genius, in the person of Colonel George Rogers Clark, "-"-tlie Hannibal of the We^t^'' who not only sav^ed her back settlements from Indian fury, but planted her standard far beyond the Ohio. The Governor of the Canadian settlements in the Illinois country, by every possible method, insti- gated the Indians to annoy the frontier. Virginia placed a small force of about 250 men under Clark, Avho, descending the Ohio, hid theii' boats, and marched northwardly, with their provisions on their backs. These being consumed, they subsisted for two days on roots, and, in a state of famine, appeared before Kas- kaskias, unseen and unheard. At midnight they surprised and took the town and fort, which had resisted a much larger force ; then seizing the golden moment, sent a detachment who with equal success surprised thi'ee other towns. Rocheblave, the obnoxious Governor, was sent to Virginia. On his person were found written instructions from Quebec to excite the Indians to hostilities, and reward them for the scalps of the Americans. The settlers transferred their allegiance to 126 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Virginia, and she, as the temtoiy belonged to her by conquest and charter, in the autumnal session of 1778 erected it into a county to be called Illinois. Insulated in the heart of the Indian country, in the midst of the most fero- cious tribes, few men but Clark could have pre- served this acquisition. Hamilton, the Governor of Detroit, a bold and tyrannical personage, determined, ^^dth an over- '\\'helming force of British and Indians, to pene- trate up the Ohio to Fort Pitt, to sweep all the principal settlements in his way, and besiege Kaskaskias. Clark despaired of keeping pos- session of the country, but lie resolved to pre- serve this post, or die in its defense. AVhile he was strengthening the fortifications, he received information that Hamilton, who was at Fort St. Vincent (Vincennes), had weakened his force by sending some Indians against the frontiers. This information, to the genius of Clark, dis- closed, vnih the rapidity of an electric flash, not only safety but new glory. To resolve to attack Hamilton before he could collect the Indians ^^as the work of a moment — the only LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 127 hope of saving the country. With a band of 150 gallant and hardy comrades, he marched across the country. It was in February, 1779. When within nine miles of the enemy, it took these intrepid men five days to cross the drowned lands of the Wabash, having often to wade up to their breasts in water. Had not the weather been remarkably mild, they must have perished. On the evening of the 23d, they landed in sight of the fort, before the enemy knew any- thing of their approach. After a siege of eigh- teen hours it surrendered, without the loss of a man to the besiegers. The Governor was sent prisoner to Williamsburg, and considerable stores fell into the possession of the conqueror. Other auspicious circumstances crowned this result. Clark, intercepting a convoy from Canada, on their way to this post, took the mail, forty prisoners, and goods to the value of $45,000 ; and to crown all, his express from Vir- ginia arrived with the thanks of the Assembly to him and his gallant band for their reduction of the country about Kaskaskias. This year ][28 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Virginia extended her western establishments through the agency of Colonel Clark, and had several fortifications erected, among which was Fort Jefferson, on the Mississppi. * ♦Howe. CHAPTER XII. Scarcity of salt at Boonesborough— Boone goes to Blue Licks to make salt, and is captured by the Indians— Taken to Chillicotbe — Affects contentment, and deceives tlie Indians —Taken to Detroit— Kindness of the British officers to him —Returns to Chillicothe— Adopted into an Indian family- Ceremonies of adoption — Boone sees a large force of Indians destined to attack Boonesborough— Escapes, and gives the alarm, and strengthens tlie fortifications at Boonesborough News of delay by the Indians on account of Boone's escape — Boone goes on an expedition to the Scioto — Has a fight with a party of Indians— Returns to Boonesborough, which is immediately besieged by Captain Duquesne with five hundred Indians— Summons to sm-render— Time gained —Attack commenced— Brave defense— Mines and counter- mines—Siege raised— Boone brings his family once more back to Boonesborough, and resumes farming. While George Rogers Clark was engaged in his campaign against the British posts in the Northwest, Daniel Boone was a prisoner among the Indians. The people at Boonesborough were siifferino; for want of salt. It could not be obtained conveniently from the Atlantic Colonies, but it could be manufactured at a place called the Bhie Licks, from salt water which abounded there. 9 129 130 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. In January, 1778, accompanied by thirty men, Boone went to the Blue Licks to make salt for the different Stations ; and on the 7th of Feb- ruary following, while out hunting, he fell in with one hundred and two Indian waniors, on their march to attack Boonesborough. He in- stantly fled, but being upward of fifty years old, he was unable to outstrip the fleet young men who pursued him, and was a second time taken prisoner. As usual, he was treated \Adth kindness until his final fate should be deter- mined, and was led back to the Licks, M^here his party were still encamped. Here Boone surrendered his whole party to the number of twenty-seven, upon a promise on the part of the Indians of life and good treatment, both of which conditions were faithfully observed. This step was apparently unnecessary ; but the result showed that it was a master stroke of policy on Boone's part. He knew the natm-e of the Indians, and foresaw that they would forth- with return home with their prisoners, and thus save Boonesborough from attack. Had the Indians gone on to that place, by LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 131 showing their prisonei^ and threatening to put them to the torture, they might have obtained important results. But they did nothing of the kind. As Boone had calculated, they went home with their prisoners and booty. Captain Boone has been censured foi the surrender of his men, which he made at his own capture, and at a subsequent period was tried by court-martial and acquitted. This was a just de- cision. The surrender caused the Indians to re- turn home with their prisoners instead of attack- ing Boonesborough, which would almost cer- tainly have been taken and destroyed if this surrender had not been made. Elated with their unexpected success, the Indians now returned at once to old Chillicothe, the principal town of the Sha^vnees, on the Little Miami, treating their prisoners, during a march of three days in very cold and inclement weather, as well as they fared themselves, as re- garded fire and pro^dsions. Boone and his com- panions were kept in captivity by the Indians, and closely watched for several weeks, when the old pioneer and ten of his men were con.' 132 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ducted to Detroit, then a Britisli garrison, and all but Boone presented to tlie commandant, hy wliom they were all well treated. For tlie old pioneer himself, the Indians had conceived a particular liking ; and they stubbornly refused to give him up, though several gentlemen of Detroit were very anxious they should leave him, and the commandant offered to ransom him by a liberal sum. He was therefore compelled to accompany them back to Chillicothe, their town on the Little Miami ; which they reached after a march of fifteen days. Boone was now fonnally adopted as a son in one of the Indian families. " The forms of the ceremony of adoption," says Mr. Peck,* " were often severe and ludicrous. The hair of the head is plucked out by a painful and tedious operation, leaving a tuft, some three or four inches in diameter, on the crown for the scalp- lock, which is cut and dressed up with ribbons and feathers. The candidate is then taken into the river in a state of nudity, and there thor- oughly washed and rubbed, 'to take all his * " Life of Daniel Boone," LIFE O^ DAKIEL BOONE. 130 Vaite blood out.' This ablution is usually per- foitiied by females. He is then taken to the council-house, where the chief makes a speech, in which he expatiates upon the distinguished honors conferred on him. His head and face are painted in the most approved and fashion- able style, and the ceremony is concluded with A grand feast and smoking." After undergoing after this fashion what was not inaptly termed the Indian toilet, Boone -^Yas considered a regular member of the tribe, and by judiciously accommodating himself to his ncAv condition, he rapidly won upon the regards of the Indians, and soon secured their confidence. They challeuged him to a trial of skill at their shooting-matches — in Avhich he took care not to excel them — invited him to accom- pany them on their hunting excursions, bestow- ed particular notice upon him in various ways, and always treated him with much consider- ation. As regarded merely his physical com- fort, Boone's situation was, at this time, rather enviable than other^vise ; but he felt a depress- ing anxiety Avith re.2:ard to his wife and chil- 134 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. dreii, aucl doubted the safety and prosperity of the Station, mthout his own watchfulness and superintendence. He therefore detennined to escape from his captors at the earliest possible period, and very impatiently waited an oppor- tunity for accomplishing this purpose. Early in June a party of Indians went to the Scioto Licks to make salt. Boone was taken A\dth them, but kept so constantly employed at the kettles, that he found no chance of escaping. Having sufficiently supplied themselves with the desired article, the party retiu^ned ; and at the Chillicothe town Boone found four hundred and fifty Indian warriors, armed well and painted in a most frightful manner, ready to march a:^ainst Boonesborough : this was on the fifteenth or sixteenth of the month. Boone now saw the absolute necessity of es- caping at once, and determined to make the attempt ^vithout delay. He rose at the usual time the next morning, and went out upon a hunt. His object was to give his wary masters the slip, in such a manner as would be least likely to excite their suspicions, and b« LIFE OF DANIEL BOONB. 135 tfc longest in determining them upon a pur- suit Nc sooner was lie at sucli a distance from the town as would prevent observations of his movements, than he struck out rapidly in the dii'ection of Boonesborough. So gi-eat was his anxiety, that he stopped not to kill anything to eat, but performed his journey — a distance of one hundred and sixty miles — in less than five days, upon one meal, which, before starting, he had concealed in his basket. On ariiving at Boonesborough, he found the fort, as he feared he should, in a bad state for defense ; but his acti^^ty soon strengthened it, and his courage at once reinspired the sinking hearts of the gai*- rison. Everything was immediately put in proper condition for a vigorous defense, and all became impatient for intelligence of the move- ments of the enemy. A few days after Boone's escape from the Indians, one of his fellow-prisoners succeeded likemse in eluding their vigilance, and made his way safely and expeditiously to Boones- borough. This man arrived at the Station at a 136 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. y time when tlie garrison were hourly expe^tiig the appearance of the enemy, and reported tAat, on account of Boone's elopement, the Indians had postponed their meditated invasion of the settled regions for three weeks.* It rras dis- covered, however, that they had their spies in the country, watching the movements of the different garrisons ; and this rendered the settlers wary and active, and gave all the Stations time and opportunity to strengthen themselves, and make every preparation for a powerful resist- ance of Avhat, they could not but believe, was to be a loDg and great eifort to drive them from the land, and utterly destroy their habita- tions. Week passed after week, but no enemy ap- peared. The state of anxiety and watchfulness in which the garrison at Boonesborough had, for so long a time, been kept, was becoming irksome, and the men were beginning to relax in their vigilance. This Boone observed, and it determined him to undertake an expedition, which lie had been probably meditating for * Gallagher, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 1S7 some time. On the 1st of August, therefore, with a company of nineteen of the brave spirits by whom he was surrounded, he left the fort with the intention of marching against and sur- prising one of the Indian towns on the Scioto. He advanced rapidly, but with great caution, and had reached a point within four or five miles of the town destined to taste of his venge- ance, when he met its warriors, thirty in num- ber, on their way to join the main Indian force, then on its march toward Boonesborough. An action immediately commenced, which terminated in the flight of the Indians, who lost one man and had two others wounded. Boone received no injury, but took three horses, and all the " plunder " of the war party. He then despatched two spies to the Indian town, who returned ^^ith the intelligence that it was evacuated. On the receipt of this infor- mation, he started for Boonesborough with all possible haste, hoping to reach the Station before the enemy, that he might give warning of their approach, and strengthen its numbers. He pas;^ed tlie main body of the Indians on the 13? LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. sixth day of liis march, and on the seven fcL reached Boonesborough. On the eighth day the enemy's force marched up, ^vith British colors flying, and invested the place. The Indian army was commanded by Captain Duqnesne, with eleven other Canadian Frenchmen and several distinguished chiefs, and was the most formidable force which had yet invaded the settlements. The commander sun> moned the garrison to surrender in the name of his Britannic Majesty. Boone and his men, perilous as was their situ- ation, received the sununons without apparent alarm, and requested a couple of days for the consideration of what should be done. This was granted ; and Boone summoned his brave companions to council: hut fifty men ai^pemed ! Yet these fift}^, after a due consideration of the terms of capitulation proposed, and with the knowledge that they were surrounded by sav- age and remorseless enemies to the number of about five Tiimdred^ determined, unanimously, to ^' defend tJiefort as long as a Qiian of them lived r' LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 139 The two clays Laving expired, Boone an- nounced this determination from one of the bastions, and thanked the British commander for the notice given of his intended attack, and the time allowed the garrison for preparing to defend the Station. This reply to his summons was entirely unexpected by Duquesne, and he heard it vnth evident disappointment. Other terms were immediately proposed by him, which " sounded so gratefully in the ears " of the gar- rison that Boone agreed to treat ; and, -snth eight of his companions, left the fort for this purpose. It was soon manifest, however, by the conduct of the Indians, that a snare had been laid for them; and escaping from their wily foes by a sudden eifort, they re-entered the palisades, closed the gates, and betook them- selves to the bastions. A hot attack upon the fort now instantly commenced but the fire of the Indians was re- tui^ned from the garrison with such unexpected briskness and fatal precision that the besiegers were compelled to fall back. They then shel- tered themselves behind the nearest trees and 140 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. stumps and continued tlie attack witli more caution. Losing a number of men himself, and perceiving no falling off in tlie strength or the marksmanship of the garrison, Duquesne resorted to an expedient which promised greater success. The foii: stood upon the bank of the river, about sixty yards from its margin ; and the purpose of the commander of the Indians was to undermine this, and blow up the garrison. Duquesne was pushing the mine under the fort with energy when his operations were discovered by the besieged. The miners precipitated the earth which they excavated into the river ; and Boone, perceiving that the water was muddy below the fort, while it was clear above, in- stantly divined the cause, and at once ordered a deep trench to be cut inside the fort, to coun- teract the work of the enemy. As the earth was dug up, it was thrown over the wall of the fort, in the face of the besieging commander. Duquesne was thus informed that his design had been discovered ; and being con- vinced of the futility of any further attempts LIFE OF 13ANIEL BOONE. 141 of thai kind he discontinued Lis mining opera- tions, and once more renewed tlie attack upon tlie Station in the manner of a regular Indian siege. His success, however, was no Letter than it had been before; the loss appeared to be all upon his side ; his stock of provisions was nearly ex- hausted ; having for nine days tried the bravery of his savage force, and tasked his own in- genuity to its utmost, he raised the siege, anc] abandoned the grand object of the expedi- tion. During this siege, " the most formidable," says Mr. Marshall, " that had ever taken place in Kentucky from the number of Indians, the skill of the commanders, and the fierce countenances and savage dispositions of the wamors," only two men belonging to the Station were killed, and four others wounded. Duquesne lost thirty-seven men, and had many wounded, who, according to the invariable usage of the Indians, were immediately borne from the scene of action. Boonesborough was never again disturbed by my formidable body of Indians. New Stations 142 ^JtFE OF DANIEL BOONE. were springing up every year between it and the Ohio River, and to pass beyond these for the purpose of striking a blow at an older and stronger enemy, was a piece of folly of which the Indians were never known to be guilty. During Boone's capti\dty among the Shaw- nees, his family, supposing that he had been killed, had left the Station and returned to their relatives and friends in North Carolina ; and as early in the autumn as he could well leave, the brave and hardy warrior started to move them out again to Kentucky. He returned to the settlement with them early the next summer, and set a good example to his companions by industriously cultivating his fai-m, and volun- teeringhis assistance, whenever it seemed needed, to the many immigrants who ^vere now pouring into the country, and erecting new Stations in the neighborhood of Boonesborough. He was a good as well as a great man in his sphere, says Mr. Gallagher (our chief authority for the foregoing incidents) ; and for his many and im- portant services in the early settlements of Ken- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 143 tucky, lie well deserved the title of Patriarcli which was bestowed upon him during his life, and all the praises that have been sung to his^ memory since his death * * W. D. Gallagher, in " Hesperiaiu* CHAPTER XIII. Captain Boone tried by court-martial — Honorably acquitted and promoted — Loses a large sum of money — His losses by lawsuits and disputes about land — Defeat of Colonel Rogers's party — Colonel Bowman's expedition to Chilli- cothe — Arrival near the town — Colonel Logan attacks the tov^n — Ordered by Colonel Bowman to retreat — Failure of the expedition — Consequences to Bowman and to Logan. Some complaint having been made respecting Captain Boone's surrender of liis party at tlie Blue Licks, and other parts of his military con- duct, his friends, Colonel Eichard Callaway and Colonel Benjamin Logan, exhibited charges against him Avhich occasioned his being tried by coui^t-martial. This ^vas undoubtedly done with a view to put an end to the calumny l)y dis- proving or explaining the charges. The result of the trial was an honorable acquittal, increased popularity of the Captain among his fellow- citizens, and his promotion to the rank of Major lU to me raiiijk. ul xvxttj<.»r ' Peek. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 115 While Boone had been a prisoner among the Indians, his wife and family, supposing him to be dead, had returned to North Carolina. lu the autumn of 1778 he went after them to the house of Mrs. Boone's father on the Yadkin. In 1779, a commission having been opened by the Virginia Legislature to settle Kentucky land claims, Major Boone " laid out the chief of liis little prope]*ty to procure land warrants, and having raised about twenty thousand dollars in paper money, with which he intended to pur- chase them, on his way from Kentucky to Rich- mond, he was robbed of the ^vhole, and left destitute of the means of procuring more. This heavy misfortune did not fall on himself alone. Large sums had been intrusted to him by his friends for similar purposes, and the loss was extensively felt." Boone must have suffered much anxiety in consequence of this affiair. Little is known re- specting it, excepting that it did not impair the confidence of his friends in his perfect integrity. This appeal's in the following extract of a letter from Colonel Thomas Hart, late of Lex- t6 110 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ingtoii, KeDtucky, to Captain Nathaniel Hart., dated Grayfields, August 3d, 1780. '^ I observe what ^^ou say respecting oiu* losses by Daniel Boone. [Boone had been robbed of funds in part belonging to T. and N. Hart.] I had heard of the misfortune soon after it hap- pened, but not of my being partaker before now. I feel for the poor people, who, perhaps, are to lose even their pre-emptions : but I must say, I feel more for Boone, whose character, I am told, suffers by it. Mucli degenerated must the people of this age be, when amongst them are to be found men to censure and blast the repu- tation of a person so just and upright, and in whose breast is a seat of virtue too pure to ad- mit of a thought so base and dishonorable. I have known Boone in times of old, when pov- erty and distress had him fast by the hand ; and in these ^vi^etched circumstances, I have ever found him of a noble and generous soul, despising everything mean ; and therefore I will freely gi^ant him a discharge for whatever sums of mine he might have been possessed of at the time." Boone's ignorance of legal proceedings, and LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 147 his avereion to lawsuits, appear to have occa- sioned the loss of his real estate ; and the loose manner in which titles were granted, one con- flicting with another, occasioned similar losses to much more experienced and careful men at the same period. During the 3'ear 1779 the emigration to Ken- tucky was much greater than any previous one. The settlers do not seem to have been so much annoyed by the Indians as formerly. Yet this year is distinguished in the annals of Kentucky for the most bloody battle ever fought between the whites and Indians within her borders, with the single exception of that of the Blue Licks. It took place opposite to Cincinnati. Colo- nel Kogers had been down to New Orleans to procui'e supplies for the posts on the Upper Mississippi and Ohio. Having obtained them, he ascended these rivers until he reached the place mentioned above. Here he found the Indians in their canoes coming out of the mouth of the Little Miami, and crossing to the Kentucky side of the Ohio. He conceived the plan of surprising them as they landed. The Oliio a\ as 148 LII'E OF I3ANIEL BOONE. very low on the Kentucky side, so that a large sand-bar was laid bare, extending along the shore. Upon this Eogers landed his men, but, before they could reach the spot where they ex- pected to attack the enemy they were them- selves attacked by such superior numbers that the issue of the contest was not doubtful for a single moment. Rogers and the greater part of his men were instantly killed. The few who were left fled toward the boats. But one of them was already in the possession of the Indi- ans, whose flanks were extended in advance of the fugitives, and the few men remaining in the other pushed off from shore without waiting to take their conu*ades on board. These last now turned around upon their pursuers, and, furiously charging them, a small number broke through their ranks and escaped to Harrodsburg. The loss in this most lamentable affair was about sixty men, very nearly equal to that at Blue Licks. The Kentuckians resolved to invade the In- dian country, and Chillicothe was selected as the point to feel the Aveight of their vengeance. Colonel Bowman issued a call, invitiuo: all those LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 149 who were willing to accompany him in the ex- pedition to rendezvous at Harrodsburg. This was the manner of organizing such expeditions in Kentucky. An officer ^vould invite volun- teers to participate with him in an incursion into the Indian country. All who joined were expected to submit to his direction. On this occasion there ^vas no want of zeal among the people. Bowman's reputation as a soldier was good, and three hundred men ^vere soon collected, among whom were Logan and HaiTod, both holding the rank of captain. It does not appear that either Boone or Kenton engaged in this enterprise. Indeed, the first is said to have been absent in North Carolina, his family having returned there after liis capture in the preceding year, supposing him to be dead. The expedition moved in the month of July — its destination well known — and its march so well conducted that it approached its object without discovery. From this circumstance, it would seem that the Indians were but little apprehen- sive of an invasion from those who had never ]>efo]^ ventured on it, and whom they were in 150 I^IFE OF DANIEL BOONE. the habit of invading annually ; or else so secure in their own courage that they feared no enemy, for no suspecting spy ^vas out to foresee approach- ing danger. Arrived within a short distance of the town, night approached, and Colonel Bow- man halted. Here it was determined to invest and attack the place just before the ensuing day, and several dispositions were then made very proper for the occasion, indicating a considerable share of militaiy skill and caution, which gave reasonable promise of a successful issue. At a proper hour the little army separated, after a movement that placed it near the town, the one part, under the command of Bowman in person — the other, under Captain Logan; to whom precise orders had been given to march, on the one hand, half round the town ; while the Colo- nel, passing the other way, was to meet him, and give the signal for an assault. Logan im- mediately executed his orders, and the place was half enveloped. But he neither saw nor heard the commander-in-chief. Logan now ordered his men to conceal themselves in the grass and weeds, and behind such other objects as were LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. I5I present, as the day began to show itself, and lie had not }'et I'eceived the expected order to begin the attacl: ; nor had he been able, though anxions, to ascertain what liad intercepted or delayed his superior officer. The men, on shift- ing abont for hiding-places, had alarmed one of the Indians' dogs, who forthwith set to barking with the agitation of apparent fright. This brought out an Indian wanior, who proceeded with caution on the way that the dog seemed to direct his own attention, and in a short time, if he had continued his progress, might have been made a prisoner ; but, at this critical moment, one of the party with the Colonel fired his gun ; which the Indian, well understanding as coming from an enemy, gave an instantaneous and loud w^hoop, and ran immediately to his cabin. The alarm was instantly spread through the towTi, and preparation made for defense. The party with Logan was near enough to hear the bustle and to see the women and children escaping to the cover of the woods by a ridge which ran between them and where Colonel Bowman with his men had halted. 152 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. In the meantime tlie waiTiors equipped them- selves mtli their military habiliments, and re- paii'ed to a strong cabin ; no doubt, designated in their councils for the like occurrences. By this time daylight had disclosed the whole scene, and several shots were discharged on the one side, and returned from the other, while some of Logan's men took possession of a few cabins, from which the Indians had retreated — or rather perhaps it should be said, repaired to their stronghold, the more effectually to defend them- selves. The scheme was formed by Logan, and adopted by his men in the cabins, of making a movable breastwork out of the doors and floor — and of pushing it forward as a battery against the cabin in which the Indians had taken post ; others of them had taken shelter from the fire of the enemy l^ehind stumps, or logs, or the vacant cabins, and w^ere waiting orders ; when the Colonel finding that the Indians were on their defense, despatched orders for a retreat. This order, received with astonishment, ^vas obeyed with reluctance ; and what rendered it the more distressing, was the unavoidable exposure which LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. I53 the men must encounter in the open field, or prairie, which surrounded the town : for they were apprised that from the moment they left their cover, the Indians would fire on them, until they were beyond the reach of their balls. A retreat, however, was deemed necessaiy, and every man was to shift for himself. Then, instead of one that was orderly, commanding, or supported — a scene of disorder, immilitary and mortifying, took place ; here a little squad would rush out of or break from behind a cabin — there individuals would rise from a log, or start up from a stump, and run with all speed to gain the neighboring wood. At length, after the loss of several lives, the remnant of the invading force was reunited, and the retreat continued in tolerable order, under the painful reflection that the expedition had failed, without any adequate cause being known. This was, however, but the introduction to dis- grace, if not of misfortune still more extraor- dinary and distressing. The Indian warriors, commanded by Blackfish, sallied from the town, and commenced a pui^uit of the discomfited in 154: LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. vaders of their forests and firesides, which they continued for some miles, harassing and galling the rear of the fugitives without being checked, notwithstanding the disparity of numbers, there not being more than thirty of the savages in pursuit. Bowman, finding himself thus pressed, at length halted his men in a low piece of ground covered with bnish ; as if he sought shelter from the enemy behind or among them. A situation more injudiciously chosen, if chosen at all, cannot be easily imagined- — since of all others it most favored the purposes of the Indians. In other respects the commander seems also to have lost his understanding — he gave no orders to fire — made no detachment to repulse the enemy, who, in a few minutes, by the whoops, yells, and firing, were heard on all sides — but stood as a mark to be shot at or one panic-struck. Some of the men fired, but with- out any precise object, for the Indians were scattered and hid by the grass and bushes. What would have been the final result it is dif- ficult to conjecture, if Logan, Han^od, Bulger, and a few others had not mounted some of the LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Jgg pack-horses and scoured the woods, first in one direction, then in another; rushing on the Indians wherever they could find them, until very fortunately Blackfish was killed ; and this being soon known, the rest fled. It was in the evening when this event occurred, which being repoii^ed to the Colonel, he resumed his march at dark— taking for his guide a creek near at hand, which he pursued all night without any remark- able occurrence— and in quiet and safety thence returned home, with the loss of nine men killed and another wounded : having taken two Indian scalps : which, however, was thought a trophy of small renown. A somewhat different account is given by some, in which Bowman is exculpated from all blame. According to this, it was the \agorou8 defense of the Indians which prevented him from fulfilling his part of the combinations. Be this as it may, it is certain that Bowman lost reputation by the expedition; while, on the other hand, the conduct of Logan raised him still higher in the estimation of the people. CHAPTER XIV. Invasion of Kentucky by Colonal Byrd's party— He capture? the garrisons at Ruddle's Station and Martin's Fort — Colo- nel Clark's invasion of the Indian country — He ravages the Indian towns — Adventure of Alexander McConnell— Skirmish at Pickaway — Result of the expedition — Boone goes to the Blue Licks with his brother — Attacked by the Indians — Boone's brother killed — Boone promoted to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel — Clark's galley — Squire Boone's Station removed to Bear's Creek — Attack by the Indians — Colonel Floyd's defeat— Affair of the McAfees — Attack on McAfee's Station repelled — Fort Jefferson evacuated — At- tack on Montgomery Station — Rescue by General Logan. The year 1780 was distinguished foi* two events of much importance : the invasion of Kentucky by the British and Indians^ under Colonel Byrd, and General Clark's attack upon the Shawanee towns. The first of these was a severe and unexpected blow to Kentucky. Mai'shall says that the people in their eagerness to take up land had almost forgotten the exist- ence of hostilities. Fatal security, and most fatal with such a foe, whose enterprises wera 156 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 157 conducted with such secrecy that their first announcement was their presence in the midst of the unprepared settlement. In fact, the care* lessness of the Western borderers is often un- accountable, and this is not the least surprising instance of it. That they did not anticipate an attempt to retaliate the incursion of Bowman into the In- dian country is indeed astonishing. It was very fortunate for the Kentuckians that their ene- mies were as little gifted with perseverance as they were with vigilance. This remark is to be undei^stood in a restricted sense of both par* ties. When once aroused to a sense of their dan. ger none were more readily prepared, or more watchful to meet it than the settlers ; and on the other hand, nothing could exceed the per- severance of the Indians in the beginning of their enterprises, but on the slightest success (not reverse) they wished to return to exhibit their trophies at home. Thus, on captiu"ing Boone and his party, instead of pushing on and attacking the settlements which were thus weak- ened, the}' retiirned to display their prisoners. 158 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. The consequences were tliat these defects neu« tralized each other, and no very decisive strokes were made by either side. But the English Governor Hamilton, who had hitherto contented himself with stimulating the Indians to hostili- ties, now aroused by the daring and success of Clark, prepared to send a powerful exj)edition by way of retaliation, against the settlements. Colonel Byrd was selected to command the forces, which amounted to six hundred men, Canadians and Indians. To render them irresist- ible, they were supplied ^nth two pieces of artil- lery. The posts on the Licking were the first objects of the expedition. In June they made their appearance before Ruddle's Station ; and this, it is said, was the first intimation that the garrison had received of their danger, though Butler states that the enemy were twelve days on their march from the Ohio. The incidents of the invasion are few. The fort at Ruddle's Station was in no condition to resist so powerful an enemy backed by artillery, the defenses being nowise superior to those we have before described. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 159 They were summoned to surrender in the name of his Britannic Majesty, with the promise of protection for their lives only. What could they do ? The idea of resisting such a force was vain. The question presented itself to them thus : Whether they should surrender at once and give up their property, or enrage the In- dians by a fruitless resistance, and lose their property and lives also. The decision was quickly made, the post was surrendered and the enemy thronged in, eager for plunder. The in- mates of the fort were instantly seized, families were separated ; for each Indian caught the first person whom he met, and claimed him or her as his prisoner. Three who made some re- sistance were killed upon the spot. It was in vain that the settlers remonstrated with the British commander. He said it Avas impossible to restrain them. This doubtless was true enough, but he should have thought of it before he as- sumed the command of such a horde, and con- sented to lead them against weak settlements. The Indians demanded to be led at once against Martin's Fort, a post about five miles dis- 1^0 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tant. Some say that the same scene was enacted over here ; but another account states that so strongly Avas Colonel Byrd affected by the bar- barities of the Indians, that he refused to ad- vance further, unless they would consent to al- low him to take charge of all the prisoners who should be taken. The same account goes on to say that the demand ^v as complied with, and that on the suri'ender of Martin's Fort, this ar- rangement was actually made ; the Indians tak- ing possession of the property and the Biitish of the prisoners. However this may be, the capture of this last-mentioned place, which was surrendered under the same circumstances as Ruddle's, was the last operation of that cam- paign. Some quote this as an instance of weak- ness ; Butler, in particular, contrasts it with the energy of Clark. The sudden retreat of the enemy inspired the people with joy as great as their consternation had been at the ncAvs of his unexpected advance. Had he pressed on, there is but little doubt that all the Stations would have fallen into his hands, for there were not men enough to spare from LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 101 them to meet liim in the field. The greatest difficulty would have been the carnage of the artillery. The unfortunate people M'ho had fallen into the hands of the Indians at Ruddle's Station were obliged to accompany their cap- tors on their rapid retreat, heavily laden with the plunder of their OAvn dwellings. Some returned after peace was made, but too many, sinking under the fatigues of the journey, perished by the tomahawk. Soon after the retreat of the enemy, General Clark, who was stationed at Fort Jefferson, called upon the Kentuckians to join him in an invasion of the Indian country. The reputation of Clark caused the call to be responded to with great readiness. A thousand men Avere collected, with whom Clark entered and devastated the enemy's territory. The principal toAvns were burned and the fields laid waste. But one skir* mish was fought, and that at the Indian village of Pickaway. Tlie loss was the same on both sides, seventeen men being killed in each army. Some writers Nvho have not the slightest objec- tion to war very gravely express doubts as to ZI 152 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. whether the expedient of destroying the crops of the Indians was justifiable. It is generally treated by these men as if it was a wanton dis- play of a vindictive spirit, when in reality it was dictated by the soundest policy ; for when the Indians' harvests were destro}'ed, they were compelled to subsist their families altogether by hunting and had no leisure for their murderous inroads upon the settlements. This result was plainly seen on this occasion, for it does not ap- pear that the Indians attacked any of the settle- ments during the remainder of this year. An adventure which occurred in the spring, but was passed over for the more important operations of the campaign, claims our att-en* tion, presenting as it does a picture of the varie- ties of this mode of warfare. We quote from McClung : "Early in the spring of 1780 Mr. Alexander McConnell, of Lexington, Kentucky, went into the woods on foot to hunt deer. He soon killed a large buck, and returned home for a horse in order to bring it in. During his ab« sence a party of five Indians, on one of their LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 163 usual skulking expeditions, accidentally stum- bled on tlie body of the deer, and perceiving that it had been recently killed, they naturally supposed that the hunter would speedily return to secure the flesh. Three of them, therefore, took their stations within close rifle-shot of the deer, while the other two followed the trail of the hunter, and waylaid the path by which he was expected to return. McConnell, expecting no danger, rode carelessly along the path, which the two scouts were watching, until he had come within view of the deer, when he was fired upon by the whole party, and his horse killed. While laboring to extricate himself from the dying animal, he was seized by his enemies, instantly overpowered, and borne off as a prisoner. " His captoi^, however, seemed to be a merry, good-natured set of fellows, and permitted him to accompany them unbound, and, what was rather extraordinary, allowed him to retain his gun and hunting accouterments. He accompanied them with gi^eat apparent cheerfulness through the day, and displayed his dexterity in shooting I(j4 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. deer for the use of the company, until they began to regard him vnth gi-eat partiality. Having traveled with them in this manner for several days, they at length reached the banks of the Ohio River. Heretofore the Indians had taken the precaution to bind him at night, al though not very securely ; but, on that evening, he remonstrated with them on the subject, and comj^lained so strongly of the pain which the cords gave him, that they merely wrapped the buffalo tug loosely around his wrists, and hav- ing tied it in an easy knot, and attached the extremities of the rope to their own bodies in order to prevent his moving without awakening them, they very composedly went to sleep, leaving the prisoner to follow their example or not, as he pleased. "McConnell determined to effect his escape that night if possible, as on the following night they would cross the river, which would render it much more difficult. He therefore lay quietly until near midnight, anxiously ruminating upon the best means of effecting his object. Acci- dentally casting his eyes in the direction of his LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 105 feet, they fell upon the glittering blade of a knife, which had escaped its sheath, and was now lying near the feet of one of the Indians. To reach it with his hands, without disturbing the two Indians to whom he was fastened, ^va8 impossible, and it w^as very hazardous to attempt to draw it up with his feet. This, however, he attempted. With much difficulty he grasped the blade between his toes, and, after repeated and long-continued efforts, succeeded at length in bringing it Avithin reach of his hands. " To cut his cords was then but the work of a moment, and gradually and silently extncat- ing his person from the arms of the Indians, he -s^^alked to the fire and sat down. He saw that his work wa« but half done. That if he should attempt to retiu'n home without destroying his enemies, he would assuredly be pursued and probably overtaken, ^vhen his fate would be certain. On the other hand, it seemed almost impossible for a single man to succeed in a con- flict with five Indians, even although unarmed and asleep. He could not hope to deal a blow with his knife so silently and fatally as to 16G LIFE OF DANIEL BOOXE. destroy eact one of his enemies in turn without a^vakening the rest. Their slumbers were pro- verbially light and restless ; and, if he failed with a single one, he must instantly be over- powered by the suiTivors. The knife, therefore, was out of the question. " After anxious reflection for a few minutes, he formed his jplan. The guns of the Indians were stacked near the fire ; their knives and tomahawks were in sheaths by their sides. The latter he dared not touch for fear of awakening their o^^Tiers ; but the f onner he carefully re- moved, with the exception of two, and hid them in the woods, where he knew the Indians would not readily find them. He then returned to the spot where the Indians were still sleeping, per- fectly ignorant of the fate preparing for them, and, taking a gun in each hand, he rested the muzzles upon a log within six feet of his victims, and, having taken deliberate aim at the head of one and the heart of another, he pulled both triggers at the same moment. "Both shots were fatal. At the report of the guns the others sprung to their feet and LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 167 stared wildly around them. McConnell, wlio had ruu instantly to the spot where the other rifles were hid, hastily seized one of them and fired at two of his enemies who happened to stand in a line with each other. The nearest fell dead, being shot through the center of the body ; the second fell also, bellowing loudly, but quickly recovering, limped off into the woods as fast as possible. The fifth, and the only one who remained unhurt, darted off like a deer, with a yell which announced equal terror and astonishment. McConnell, not wishing to fight any more such battles, selected his own rifle from the stack, and made the best of his way to Lexington, where he arrived safely within two days. " Shortly afterward, Mrs. Dunlap, of Fayette, who had been several months a prisoner amongst the Indians on Mad E-iver, made her escape, and returned to Lexington. She re- ported that the survivor returned to his tribe vdth a lamentable tale. He related that they had taken a fine yoimg hunter near Lexington, and had brought him safely as far as the Ohio ; I (58 LIFE OF DANIEL BOOXE. tliat while encamped upon the bank of the river a large party of ^^ hite men had fallen npon them in the night, and kiDed all his com- panions, together with the poor defenselesi^ prisoner, who lay bound hand and foot, unable either to escape or resist." In October, 1 780, Boone, who had brought his family back to Kentucky, went to the Blue Licks in company with his l)rother. They were attacked by a party of Indians, and Dan- iel's brother was killed, and he himself pursued by them with the assistance of a dog. Being hard pressed, he shot this animal to pre^•ent his barking from giving the alarm, and so escaj^ed. Kentucky having l)een divided into three counties, a more perfect organization of the militia was effected. A Colonel and a Lieu- tenant-Colonel were appointed for each count}- ; those who held the first rank -were Floyd, Lo- gan, and Todd. Pope, Trigg, and Boone held the second. Clark ^vas Brio^adier-General, and com- mander-in-chief of all the Kentucky militia ; be- sides which he had a small num]>er of regulai's at Fort Jefferson. Spies and scouting parties LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 169 were coiitiiiually employed, and a galley was constructed b}- Clark's order, wliicli was fur- nished Avitli liglit pieces of artillery. This new species of defense did not, however, take very well with the militia, ^vho disliked serving upon the watei', probably because they found their freedom of action too much circumscribed. The regulars were far too few to spare a force suffici- ent to man it, and soon it fell into disuse, though it is said to have been of considerable service Awhile it was employed. Had the Kentuckians possessed such an auxiliary at the time of Byrd's invasion, it is probable that it would have been repelled. But on account of the I'e- luctance of the militia to serve in it, this useful vessel was laid aside and left to rot. The campaign, if Ave may so term it, of 1781, began very earl}'. In March, several parties of Indians entered Jefferson County at different points, and ambushing the paths, killed four men, among Avhoni Avas Colonel A^^illiam Linn. Captain Wliitaker, Avith fifteen men, pursued one of the parties. He folloAved their trail to the Ohio, \\ lien, supposing they had crossed over, he 170 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^nbarked his men in canoes to continae the pur- suit. But as they were in the act of pushing off, the Indians, who were concealed in their rear, fired upon them, killing or wounding nine of the party. Notwithstanding this heavy loss, the survivors landed and put the Indians to flight. Neither the number of the savages engaged in this affair or their loss is mentioned in the narra- tive. In April, a station which had been settled by Squii'e Boone, near Shelbyville, became al- armed by the report of the appearance of Indi- ans. After some deliberation, it was determined to remove to the settlement on Bear's Creek. While on their way thither they were attacked by a body of Indians and defeated with great loss. These are all the details of this action we have been able to find. Colonel Floyd collected twenty-five men to pursue the Indians, but, in spite of all his caution, fell into an ambuscade, which was estimated to consist of two hundred warrioi^. Half of Colonel Floyd's men were killed, and the survivors supposed that they had slain nine or ten of the Indians, This, however, is not probable ; either the number of the In- LIFE OF DANIEL BOOXE. 171 dians engaged, or their loss, is much exaggerated. Colonel Floyd himself had a narrow escape, being dismounted ; he would have been made prisoner, but for the gallant conduct of Captain Wells, who gave him his horse, the colonel l)e' ing exhausted, and ran by his side, to support Mm in the saddle. These officers had formerly been enemies, but the magnanimous behavior of "Wells on this occasion made them steadfast friends. ' " As if every month," says Marshall, " was to furnish its distinguishing incident — in May, Samuel McAfee and another had set out from James McAfee's Station for a plantation at a small distance, and when advanced about one- fourth of a mile they were iired on ; the man fell— -McAfee wheeled and ran toward the fort ; in fifteen steps he met an Indian — they each halt and present their guns, with muzzles almost touching — at the same instant they each pull trigger. McAfee's gun makes clear fire, the Indian's flashes in the pan — and he falls: McAfee continues his retreat, but the alarm being given, he meets his brothers, Eobert and 172 i-IFE OF DANIEL BOONE. James — ^the first, though cautioned, ran along the path to see the dead Indian, by this time several Indians had gained the path bet\Yeen him and the fort. All his agility and dexterity was now put to the test — he flies from tree to tree, still aiming to get to the fort, but is pur- sued by an Indian ; he throws himself over a fence, a hundred and fifty yards from the fort, and the Indian takes a tree — Robert, sheltered by the fence, was soon prepared for him, and while he puts his face by the side of the tree to look for his object, McAfee fires his rifle at it, and lodged the ball in his mouth — in this he finds his death, and McAfee escapes to the fort." In the mean time, James McAfee was in a situation of equal hazard and perplexity. Fiv^e Indians, lying in ambush, fired at, but missed him ; he flies to a tree for safety, and instantly received a fire from three or four Indians on the other side — the bullets knock the dust about his feet, but do him no injury ; he abandons the tree and makes good his retreat to the foi*t. One white man and two Indians were killed. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 173 Such were the incidents of Indian warfare — and such the fortunate escape of the brothers. Other events occurred in rapid succession — the Indians appear in all directions, and with horrid yells and menacing gestures commence a fire on the fort. It was returned with spirit; the women cast the bullets — the men discharged them at the enemy. This action lasted about two hours; the Indians then withdrew. The firing had been heard, and the neighborhood roused for the fight. Major Magary, with some of his men, and others from other stations, to the number of forty, appeared on the ground soon after the Indians had retreated, and determined on pursuing them. This was accordingly done with promptitude and celerity. At the distance of a mile the enemy were overtaken, attacked, and defeated. They fled — were pursued for several miles — and completely routed. Six or seven Indians were seen dead, and others wounded. One Kentuckian was killed in the action ; another mortally wounded, who died after a few days. Before the Indians entirely withdrew from the fort they killed all the 174 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. cattle they saw, without making any use of them. From this time McAfee's Station was never more attacked, although it remained for several years an exposed frontier. Nor should the re- mark be omitted that for the residue of the year there were fewer incidents of a hostile nature than usual. Fort Jefferson, which had been established on the Mississippi, about five miles below the mouth of the Ohio, had excited the jealousy of the Choc- taws and Chickasaws, who claimed the territory in which it was built. In order to appease them, it was deemed advisable to evacuate the post. The hostile tribes north of the Ohio had by this time found the strength of the settlers, and saw that unless they made a powerful effort, and that speedily, they must forever relinquish all hope of reconquering Kentucky. Such an effort was determined upon for the next yeai* ; and in order to weaken the whites as much as possible, till they were prepared for it, they continued to send out small parties, to infest the settlements. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 175 At a distance of about twelve miles from Logan's Fort was a settlement called tlie Mont- gomery Station. Most of tlie ^Deople were con- nected with Logan's family. This Station was surrounded in the night. In the morning an attack was made. Several persons were killed and others captured. A gii'l who escaped spread the alarm ; a messenger reached Logan's Fort, and General Logan with a strong party pursued the Indians, defeated them and recovered the prisoners. CHAPTER XV. News of Cornwallis's surrender — Its effects — Captain Estill's defeat— Grand army of Indians raised for the conquest of Kentucky— Simon Girty's speech — Attack on Hoy's Station — Investment of Bryant's Station — Expedient of the be- sieged to obtain water — Grand attack on the fort— Repulse — Regular siege commenced — Messengers sent to Lexington — Reinforcement obtained — Arrival near the fort — Ambushed and attacked — They enter the fort — Narrow escape of Qirty — He proposes a capitulation — Parley — Reynolds' an- swer to Girty— The siege raised— Retreat of the Indians. In October, 1781, Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktowii. This event was received in Ken- tucky, as in other parts of the country, with great joy. The power of Britain was supposed to be broken, or at least so much crij)pled, that they would not be in a condition to assist theii* Indian allies as they liad previously done. The winter passed away quietly enough and the people were once more lulled into security from which they were again to be rudely awakened. Early in the spring the parties of the enemy recommenced their forays. Yet there was noth- 176 LIFE OF" DANIEL BOONli:. 177 ing in these to excite unusual apprehensions. At first they were scarcely equal in magnitude to those of the previous year. Cattle ^^ ere killed, and horses stolen, and individuals or small par- ties were attacked. But in May an affair occiu'red possessing more interest, in a military point of view, than any other in the history of Indian wars. In the month of May a party of about twenty, five Wyandots invested Estill's Station, on the south of the Kentucky River, killed one white man, took a negro prisoner, and after destroying the cattle, retreated. Soon after the Indians disappeared. Captain Estill raised a company of twenty-five men ; with these he pursued the Indians, and on Hinkston's Fork of Licking, two miles below the Little Mountain, came within gunshot of them. They had just crossed the creek, which in that part is small, and were as- cending one side as Estill's party descended the other, of two approaching hills of moderate elevation. The watercourse which lay between had produced an opening in the timber and brush, conducing to mutual discovery, whil« 18 178 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. botli hill 8 were well set with trees, interspei^ed with saplings and bushes. Instantly after dis- covering the Indians, some of Captain EstilFs men fired at them ; at first they seemed alarmed, and made a movement like flight ; but their chief, although wounded, gave them orders to stand and fight — on which they promptly pre- pared for battle by each man taking a tree and facing his enemy, as nearly in a line as practi- cable. In this position they returned the fire and entered into the battle, Avhich they con- sidered as inevitable, with all the fortitude and animation of individual and concerted bravery so remarkable in this paiiicular tribe. In the meantime. Captain Estill, with due attention to what was passing on the opposite side, checked the progress of his men at about sixty yards distance from the foe, and gave orders to extend their lines in front of the Indians, to cover themselves by means of the trees, and to fire as the object should be seen — with a sure aim. This order, perfectly adapted to the occasion, was executed with alacrity, as far ^s circumstances would admit, and the desultoiy LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 179 mode of Indian fighting was thought to require. So that both sides were preparing and ready at the same time for the bloody conflict which ensued, and which proved to be singularly ob- stinate. The numbers were equal; some have said, exactly twenty-five on each side. Othei-s have mentioned that Captain Estill, upon seeing the Indians form for battle, despatched one or two of his men upon the back trail to hasten for- ward a small reinforcement, which he supposed was following him ; and if so, it gave the In- dians the superioi-ity of numbers without pro- ducing the desired assistance, for the reinforce- ment never arrived. Now w^ere the hostile lines within rifle-shot, and the action became warm and generrJ to their extent. Never was battle more like single combat since the use of fire-arms ; each man sought his man, and fired only when he saw his mark ; Avounds and death were inflicted on either side — neither advancing nor retreating. The firing was deliberate ; with caution they looked, but look they would, for the foe, although life 180 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. itself was often tlie forfeit. And ttus both sides iirmly stood, or bravely fell, for more than an hour ; upward of one-fourth of the combat- ants had fallen, never more to rise, on either side, and several others were wounded. Never, probably, was the native bravery or collected fortitude of men put to a test more severe. In the clangor of an ardent battle, when death is forgotten, it is nothing for the brave to die — when even cowards die like brave men — but in the cool and lingering expectation of death, none but the man of the true courage can stand. Such Avere those engaged in this conflict. Never was maneuvering more necessaiy or less prac- ticable. Captain Estill had not a man to spare from his line, and deemed unsafe any movement in front mth a view to force the enemy from their ground, because in such a movement he must expose his men, and some of them would inevitably fall before they could reach the ad- versary. This would increase the relative su- periority of the enemy, while they woukl receive the survivors with tomahawk in liand, in the use of which they were practised and expert, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 181 He clearly perceived that no advantage was to be gained over tlie Indians ^vhile the action was continued in their o\vn mode of warfare. For although liis men were probably the best shooters the Indians were undoubtedly the most expert liiders ; that victory itself, could it have been purchased with the loss of his last man, would afford but a melancholy consolation for the loss of friends and comrades, but even of victory, Avithout some maneu^^r he could not assure himself. His situation was critical, his fate seemed suspended upon the events of the min- ute ; the most prompt expedient was demanded. He cast his eyes over the scene ; the creek was before him, and seemed to oppose a charge on the enemy — retreat he coukl not. On the one hand he observed a valley running from the creek toward the rear of the enemy's line, and immediately combining this circumstance with the urgency of his situation, rendered the more apparently hazardous by an attempt of the In- dians to extend their line and take his in flank, he determined to detach six of his men by this valley to gain the flank or rear of the enemy, 182 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. while Hinself, mth tlie residue, maintained Ms position in front. The detacliment was accordingly made under the command of Lieutenant Miller, to whom the route was sho^A'n and the order given, conform- ably to the above mentioned determination ; un- fortunately, however, it was not executed. The lieutenant, either mistaking his way or intention- ally betraying his duty, his honor, and his cap- tain, did not proceed with the requisite despatch ; and the Indians, attentive to occurrences, finding out the weakened condition of their adversaries, rushed upon them and compelled a retreat after Captain Estill and eight of his men were killed. Four others were badly wounded, who, notwith- standing, made their escape ; so that only nine fell into the hands of the savages, who scalped and stripped them, of course. It was believed by the survivors of this action that one half of the Indians were killed ; and this idea was corroborated by reports from their towns. There is also a tradition that Miller, \vith his detachment, crossed the creek, fell in vrith tlie LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 1§3 enemy, lost one or two of his men, and had a third or fourth wounded before lie retreated. The battle lasted two hours, and the Indian chief was himself killed immediately after he had slain Captain Estill ; at lea^t it is so stated in one account we have seen. This action had a very depressing effect upon the spirits of the Kentucldans. Yet its results to the victors were enough to make them say, with Pyrrhus, " A few more such victories, and we shall be un- done." It is very certain that the Indians wovild not have been willing to gain many such vic- tories even to accomplish their darling object — the expulsion of the whites from Kentucky. The grand army, destined to accomplish the conquest of Kentucky, assembled at Chillicothe. A detachment from Detroit reinforced them, and before setting out, Simon Gii-ty made a speech to them, enlarging on the ingratitude of the Long-knives in rebelling against their Great Father across the water. He described in glow^- ing terms the fertility of Kentucky, exhorting them to recover it from the grasp of the Long- knife before he should be too strong for them. 184 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. This speecli met with the cordial approbation o{ the company ; the army soon after took up its march for the settlements. Six hundred war- riors, the flower of all the Korthwestern tribes, were on their way to make what they knew must be their last effort to diive the intruders from their favorite hunting-ground. Various parties preceded the main body, and these appearing in different places created much confusion in the minds of the inhabitants in re- gard to the place M^here the blow was to fall. An attack was made upon the garrison at Hoy's Station, and two boys were taken prisoners. The Indians, twenty in number, were pursued by Captain Holden, with seventeen men. He over- took them near the Blue Licks, (that fatal spot for the settlers,) and after a sharp conflict was obliged to retreat with the loss of four men. News of this disaster arrived at Biyant's Station, (a post on the Elkhoi'n, near the road from Lexington to Maysville,) on the fourteenth of August, and the garrison prepared to march to the assistance of Hoy's Station. But in the night the main body of the enemy arrived before LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 185 the fort, it having been selected as the point for the first blo^v. The water for the use of the garnson was di'awn from a spring at a considerable distance from tlie fort on the northwestern side. Near this spring the greater pail of the enemy sta- tioned themselves in ambush. On the other side of the fort a body was posted with orders to make a feint of attacking, in order to draw the attention of the garrison to that point, and gWe an opportunity for the main attack. At daylight the garrison, consisting of forty or fifty men, were preparing to march out, when they were startled by a heavy discharge of rifles, with an accompaniment of such yells as come only from an Indian's throat. " All ran hastily to the picketing," says McClung, " and beheld a small party of Indians exposed to open view, firing, yelling, and making the most furious gestures. The appearance was so singular, and so different from theii* usual manner of fighting, that some of the more wary and experienced of the garrison instantly pro- nounced it a decoy party, and restrained the ]56 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. young men from sallying out and attacking them, as some of them were strongly disposed to do. The opposite side of' the fort was instantly manned, and several breaches in the picketing rapidly repaired. Their greatest distress arose from the prospect of suif sring for water. The more experienced of the garrison felt satisfied that a powerful party was in ambuscade near the spring ; but at the same time they supposed that the Indians would not unmask themselves until the firing upon the opposite side of the fort was returned with such wannth as to induce the belief that the feint had succeeded. "Acting upon this impression, and yielding to the urgent necessity of the case, they summoned all the women, without exception, and explain- ing to them the circumstances in which they were placed, and the improbability that any in- jury would be offered them, until the firing had been returned from the opposite side of the fort, they urged them to go in a body to the spring, and each to bring up a bucketful of water. Some of the ladies, as was natural, had no relish for the undertaking, and asked why the men LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 187 could not bring water as well as themselves ? observing that they were not bullet-proof, and that the Indians made no distinction between male and female scalps. ''To this it ^vas answered, that women were in the habit of bringing water every morning to the fort, and that if the Indians saw them en- gaged as usual, it would induce them to believe that their ambuscade was undiscovered, and that they would not unmask themselves for the sake of iu-ing at a few women, when they hoped, by remaining concealed a few moments longer, to obtain complete possession of the fort. That if men should go down to the spring, the Indians would immediately suspect that something was wrong, would despair of succeeding by ambus- cade, and would instantly rush upon them, fol- low them into the fort, or shoot them down at the spring. The decision was soon over. "A few of the boldest declared their readiness to brave the danger ; and the younger and more timid rallying in the rear of these veterans, they all marched down in a body to \\\^ spring, within point-blank shot of more than five hundi-ed In- 188 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. diaii warrioi-s. Some of tlie girls could not help betraying symptoms of terror, but the married women, in general, moved \Yith a readiness and composure which completely deceived the In- dians. Not a shot was fired. The party were permitted to fill their buckets, one after another, wthout interruption ; and although their stej)s became quicker and quicker, on their retm*n, and Avhen near the gate of the fort, degenerated into a rather unmilitary celerity, attended with some little crowding in passing the gate, yet not more than one-fifth of the water was S2:)illed, and the eyes of the youngest had not dilated to more than double their ordinary size. "Being now amply supplied with water, they sent out thirteen young men to attack the decoy party, with orders to fire with great rapidity^ and make as much noise as possible, but not to pursue the enemy too far, while the rest of the garrison took post on the opposite side of the fort, cocked their guns, and stood in readiness to receive the ambuscade as soon as it was un- masked. The firing of the light parties on the Lexington road was soon heard, and quickly be- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 180 came sliai^p and serious, gradually becoming more distant from the fort. Instantly, Girty sprung up at the head of his five hundred war- riors, and rushed rapidly upon the western gate, ready to force his way over the undefended palisades. Into this immense mass of dusky bodies, the garrison poured several rapid volleys of rifle balls with destructive effect. Their con- sternation may be imagined. With wild cries they dispersed on the right and left, and in two minutes not an Indian was to be seen. At the same time, the party who had sallied out on the Lexington road, came running into the fort at the opposite gate, in high spirits, and laughing heartily at the success of their maneuver. "After this repulse, the Indians commenced the attack In regular form, that is, regular In- dian form, for they had no cannon, which was a great ovemght and one A\hich we would not have expected them to make, after witnessing the terror with which they had inspired the KentucMans in Byrd's invasion. "Two men had left the garrison immediately upon discovering the Indians, to carry the news 190 LIFE OF DAKIEL BOONE. to Lexington and demand succor. On arriving at that place they found the men had mostly gone to Hoy's Station. The couriers pursued, and overtaking them, quickly brought them back. Sixteen horsemen, and forty or fifty on foot, staii:ed to the relief of Bryant's Station, and arrived before that place at two o'clock in the afternoon. "To the left of the long and narrow lane, where the Maysville and Lexington road now runs, there were more than one hundred acres of green standing corn. The usual road from Lexington to Bryant's I'an parallel to the fence of this field, and only a few feet distant from it. On the opposite side of the road was a thick wood. Here more than three hundred Indians lay in ambush, within pistol-shot of the road, awaiting the approach of the party. The horse- men came in view at a time when the firing had ceased and everything was quiet. Seeing no enemy and hearing no noise, they entered the jane at a gallop, and were instantly saluted with a shower of rifle-balls, from each side, at the distance of ten paces. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 191 " At tLe first shot the whole party set spurs to their horses, and rode at full speed through u rolling fire from either side, which continued for several hundred yards, but owing partly to the furious rate at which they rode, partly to the clouds of dust raised by the horses' feet, they all entered the fort unhiu't. The men on foot were less fortunate. They were advancing through the corn-field, and might have reached the fort in safety but for their eagerness to suc- cor their friends. Without reflecting that, from the weight and extent of the fire, the enemy must have been ten times their number, they ran up with inconsiderate courage to the spot where the firing was heard, and there found themselves cut off from the fort, and within pistol-shot of more than three hundred savages. "Fortunately the Indians' guns had just been discharged, and they had not yet had leisure to reload. At the sight of this brave body of footmen, however, they raised a hideous yell, and rushed upon them, tomahawk in hand. Nothing but the high corn and their loaded rifles could have saved them from destruc- 192 Lli'E OF DANIEL BOONE. tdon. The Indians were cautious in rusMng upon a loaded rifle witli only a tomahawk, and when they halted to load theii^ pieces, the Ken- tuckians ran with great rapidity, turning and dodging through the corn in every direction. Some entered the wood and escaped through the thickets of cane, some were shot down in the corn-field, others maintained a running fight, halting occasionally behind trees and keeping the enemy at bay with their rifles ; for, of all men, the Indians are generally the most cautious in exposing themselves to danger. A stout, active, young fellow was so hard pressed by Girty and several savages, that he was com- pelled to discharge his rifle (however unwilling, having no time to reload it), and Girty fell. "It happened, however, that a piece of thick sole-leather was in his shot-pouch at the time, which received the ball, and preserved his life, although the force of the blow felled him to the ground. The savages halted upon his fall, and the young man escaped. Although the skirmish and the race lasted more than an hour, during which the corn-field presented a scene LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 193 of tui^moil and bustle which can scarcely be conceived, yet very few lives were lost. Only six of the white men were killed and wounded, and probably still fewer of the enemy, as the whites never fired until absolutely necessary, but reserved their loads as a check upon the enemy. Had the Indians pursued them to Lexington, they might have possessed themselves of it without resistance, as there was no force there to oppose them ; but after following the fugitives for a few hundred yards, they returned to the hopeless siege of the foi-t." * The day ^vas nearly over, and the Indians were discom^aged. The\^ had made no percep- tible impression upon the fort, but had sustained a severe loss ; the country was aroused, and they feared to find themselves outnumbered in their turn, Girty determined to attempt to frighten them into a capitulation. For this piu'pose he cautiously approached the works, and suddenly showed himself on a large stump, from which he addressed the garrison. After extolling their valor, he assured them that their resistance * McClung. X3 194: LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. was useless, as lie expected Ms artillery shortly, when their fort would be crushed without diffi- culty. He promised them perfect security for their lives if they surrendered, and menaced them with the usual inflictions of Indian rage if they refused. He concluded by asking if they knew him. The garrison of course gave no credit to the promises of good treatment con- tained in this speech. They were too well acquainted with the facility with which such pledges were given and violated ; but the men- tion of cannon was rather alarming, as the ex- pedition of Colonel B}Td was fresh in the minds of all. None of the leaders made any answer to Girty, but a young man by the name of Rey- nolds took upon himself to reply to it. In re- gard to the question of Giii}y, "Whether the garrison knew him ? " he said : " ' That he was very weU known ; that he him- self had a worthless dog, to which he had given the name of "Simon Girty," in consequence of his striking resemblance to the man of that name ; that if he had either artillery or reinforce- ments, he might bring them up and be d d ; LIFE OF DANIEL EOONE. J 95 that if either himself, or any of the naked rascals with him, found their way into the fort, they would disdain to use their guns against them, but would drive them out again with switches, of which they had collected a great number for that iiui^-^ose alone ; and finally he declared that they also expected reinforcements ; that the whole country was marching to their assistance ; that if Girty and his gang of mur- derers remained twenty-four hom^s longer before the fort, their scalps would be found drying in the sun upon the roofs of their cabins.' " * Girty affected much sorrow for the inevita- ble destruction which he assured the ganison awaited them, in consequence of their obstinacy. All idea of continuing the siege was now aban- doned. The besiegers evacuated their camp that very night ; and with so much precipi- tation, that meat was left roasting before the fires. Though we cannot wonder at this relin- quishing of a long-cherished scheme when we consider the character of the Indians, yet it would be impossible to account for the appear- * McClung. 19(5 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ance of precipitancy, and even terror, ^y\i}{ which their retreat was accompanied, did we not perceive it to be the first of a series of similar artifices, designed to draw on their enemies to theii' own destruction. There ^vas nothing in the circumstances to excite great apprehensions. To be sure, they had been repulsed in their at- tempt on the fort ^\ath some loss, yet this loss (thirty men) would by no means have deten'ed a European force of similar numbers from prose- cuting the enterprise. Gii'ty and his great Indian army retired to- ward Euddle's and Martin's Stations, on a cir- cuitous route, toward Lower Blue Licks. They expected, however, to be pursued, and evidently desired it, as they left a broad trail behind them, and marked the trees which stood on their route with their tomahawks.* * Frost ; ** Border Wars of the West." Peck : " Life of Boone." McCliing : " Western Adventure." CHAPTER XVI. Arrival of reinforcements at Bryant's Station — Colonel Daniel Boone, his son and brother among them — Colonels Trigg, Todd, and others— Great number of commissioned officers — Consultation — Pursuit commenced without waiting for Colonel Logan's reinforcement — Indian Trail — Apprehen- sions of Boone and others — Arrival at the Blue Licks — In^ dians seen — Consultation — Colonel Boone's opinion — Rash conduct of Major McGary — Battle of Blue Licks com- menced—Fierce encounter with the Indians— Israel Boone, Colonels Todd and Trigg, and Majors Harland and McBride killed — Attempt of the Indians to outflank the whites — Retreat of the whites — Colonel Boone nearly surrounded by Indians— Cuts his way through them, and returns to Bryant's Station — Great slaughter— Bravery of Netherland — Noble conduct of Reynolds in saving Captain Patterson — Loss of the whites — Colonel Boone's statement — Remarks on McGary's conduct — The fugitives meet Colonel Logan with his party — Return to the field of battle — Logan returns to Bryant's Station. The intelligence of tlie siege of Bryant's Station had spread far and wide, and the whole region round was in a state of intense excite- ment. The next morning after the enemy's re- treat reinforcements began to arrive, and in the course of the day successive bodies of militia 197 198 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. presented themselves, to the number of one liimdi'ed and eighty men. Among this number was Colonel Daniel Boone, his son Israel, and his brother Samuel, with a strong party of men from Boonesborough. Colonel Stephen Trigg led a similar corps from HaiTodsburg ; and Colonel John Todd headed the militia from Lexington. Majors Harland, McGary, McBride, and Levi Todd were also among the arrivals.* It is said that nearly one-third of the whole force assembled at Bryant's Station were com- missioned officers, many of whom had hurried to the relief of their countrymen. This supe- rior acti\dty is to be accounted for by the fact that the officers were generally selected from the most active and skilful of the pioneers. A consultation was held in a tumultuous manner, and it was determined to pui'sue the enemy at once. The Indians had retreated by way of the Lower Blue Licks. The pursuit was commenced without waiting for the junction of * Peck. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 199 Colonel Logan, who was known to be coming up w ith a strong reinforcement. The trail of the enemy exhibited a degree of carelessness very unusual in an Indian retreat. Various arti- cles were strewn along the path, as if in terror they had been abandoned. These symptoms, while they increased the ardor of the young men, excited the apprehensions of the more ex- perienced borderers, and Boone in particular. He noticed that, amid all the signs of disorder 80 la\ashly displayed, the Indians seemed to take even unusual care to conceal their numbers by contracting their camp. It would seem that the Indians had rather overdone their stratagem. It was very natural to those not much experi- enced in Indian warfare to suppose that the articles found stre^\'n along the road had been abandoned in the hurry of flight; but w^hen they found that the utmost pains had been taken to point out the way to them by chopping the trees, one W'Ould have thought that the rawest among them, who had only spent a few months on the border, could have seen through so transparent an artifice. But these indications 200 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. were disregarded in tlie desire felt to punish the Indians for their invasion. Nothing was seen of the enemy till the Ken tuckians reached the Blue Licks. Here, just as they arrived at Licking Eiver, a few Indians were seen on the other side, retreating without any appearance of alarm. The troo23s now made a halt, and the officers held a consultation to determine on the course to be pursued. Colonel Daniel Boone, on being appealed to as the most experienced 2)^i'son present, gave his opinion as follows : " That their situation was critical and deli- cate ; that the force opposed to them was un- doubtedly numerous and ready for battle, as might readily be seen from the leisurely retreat of the few Indians who had appeared upon the crest of the hill ; that he was well acquainted with the ground in the neighborhood of the Licks, and was apprehensive than an ambuscade was formed at the distance of a mile in advance, where two ravines, one upon each side of the ridge, ran in such a manner that a concealed enemy might assail them at once both in front LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 201 and flank before they were apprized of tlie danger. "It would be proper, therefore, to do one of Uvo things : either to await the arrival of Logan, wlio was now undoubtedly on his march to join them ; or, if it was determined to attack without delay, that one-half of their number should march up the river, which there bends in an elliptical form, cross at the rapids, and fall upon the rear of the enemy, while the other division attacked them in front. At any rate, he strongly urged the necessity of reconnoitering the ground carefully before the main body crossed the river." * McClung, in his "Western Adventures," doubts whether the plan of operation proposed by Colonel Boone would have been more sue- cessful than tliat actually adopted, suggesting that the enemy would have cut them off in de- tail, as at Estill's defeat. But before the officers could come to any conclusion. Major McGary dashed into the river on horseback, calling on all who were not cowards * MoClung, 202 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. to follow. The next moment the whole of the party were advancing to the attack with the greatest ardor, but without any order whatever. Horse and foot struggled through the river to- gether, and, without waiting to form, rushed up the ascent from the shore. " Suddenly," says McClung, " the van halted. They had reached the spot mentioned by Boone, where the two ravines head, on each side of the ridge. Here a body of Indians presented them- selves, and attacked the van. McGary's party instantly retm-ned the fire but under great dis- advantage. They were upon a bare and open ridge ; the Indians in a bushy ra\'ine. The center and rear, ignorant of the ground, hurried up to the assistance of the van, but were soon stopped by a terrible fire from the ravine which flanked them. They found themselves enclosed as if in the Avings of a net, destitute of proper shelter, while the enemy were in a great measure covered from their fire. Still, however, they maintained their ground. The action became wai'm and bloody. The parties gradually closed, the Indians emerged from the ravine, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 2U3 and the fire became mutually destructive. The officers suffered dreadfully. Todd and Trigg in the rear, Haiiand, McBride and j^oung Israel Boone in front, were already killed. "The Indians gradually extended their line to turn the right of the Kentuckians, and cut off their retreat. This was quickly perceived by the weight of the fire from that quarter, and the rear instantly fell back in disorder, and at- tempted to rush through their only opening to the river. The motion quickly communicated itseK to the van, and a hurried retreat became general. The Indians instantly sprung forward in pursuit, and, falling upon them with their tomahawks, made a cruel slaughter. From the battle-ground to the river the spectacle was ter- rible. The horsemen, generally, escaped ; but the foot, particularly the van, which had ad- vanced furthest within the wings of the net, were almost totally destroyed. Colonel Boone, after witnessing the death of his son and many of his dearest friends, found himself almost en- tirely surrounded at the very commencement of the retreat. 204 LIFE OF DAKIEL BOONE. "Several hundred Indians were between Mm and the ford, to which the great mass of the fugitives were bending their flight, and to which the attention of the savages was principally directed. Being intimately acquainted A^dth the ground, he, together with a few friends, dashed into the ravine which the Indians had occupied, but which most of them had now left to join in the pursuit. After sustaining one or two hesivj fires, and baffling one or two small parties who pursued him for a short distance, he crossed the river below the ford by swim- ming, and, entering the wood at a point where there was no pursuit, returned by a circuitous route to Bryant's Station. In the meantime the great mass of the victors and vanquished crowded the bank of the ford. "The slaughter was great in the river. The ford was crowded ^\dth horsemen and foot and Indians, all mingled together. Some were com- pelled to seek a passage above by swimming; some who could not swim were ovei-taken and killed at the edge of the water. A man by the name of Netherland, who had formerly been LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 205 strongly suspected of cowardice, here displayed a coolness and presence of mind equally noble and unexpected. Being finely mounted, he had outstripped the great mass of fugitives, and crossed the ri\'er in safety. A dozen or twenty horsemen accompanied him, and, having placed the river between tliem and the enemy, showed a disposition to continue their flight, mthout regard to the safety of their friends ^vho were on foot and still struggling with the ciUTent. "Netherland instantly checked his horse, and in a loud voice called upon his companions to halt, fire upon the Indians, and save those who were still in the stream. The party instantly obeyed, and, facing about, poured a close and fatal discharge of rifles upon the foremost of the pursuers. The enemy instantly fell back from the opposite bank, and gave time for the harassed and miserable footmen to cross in safety. The check, however, was but momen- tary. Indians were seen crossing in great num- bers above and below, and tlie flight again became general. Most of the foot left the great buffalo track, and plunging into the thickets, 200 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, escaped by a circuitous route to Bryant's Sta- tion." Tlie pursuit was kept up for twenty miles, though with but little success. In the flight from the scene of action to the river, young Ee}Tiolds (the same who replied to Gii-ty's summons at Bryant's Station), on hoi-seback, overtook Captain Patterson on foot. This officer had not recovered from the effects of "wounds received on a former occasion, and was altogether unable to keep up with the rest of the fugitives. Reynolds immediately dismounted, and gave the captain his horse. Continuing his flight on foot, he swam the riv^er, but was made prisoner by a party of Indians. He was left in charge of a single Indian, whom he soon knocked down, and so escaped. For the assistance he so gal- lantly rendered him, Captain Patterson rewarded Rejmolds with a present of two hundred acres of land. Sixty whites were killed in this battle of the Blue Licks, and seven made prisoners. Colonel Boone, in his Autobiography, says that he wag LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 207 infonned that the Indian loss in killed was four more than that of the Kentuckians, and that the former put four of the prisonei'S to death, to make the numbers equal. But this account does not seem worthy of credit, when we consider the vastly superior numbers of the Indians, their advantage of position, and the disorderly manner in which the Kentuckians advanced. If this account is true, the loss of the Indians in the actual battle must have been much greater than that of their opponents, many of the latter having been killed in the pursuit. As the loss of the Kentuckians on this oc- casion, the hea\de8t they had ever sustained, was undoubtedly caused by rashness, it becomes oiu' duty, according to the established usage of historians, to attemjDt to show where the fault lies. The conduct of McGary, which brought on the action, appears to be the most culpable. He never denied the part which is generally attributed to him, but justified himself by say- ing that while at Bryant's Station, he had ad\dsed ^^'aiting for Logan, but was met with 208 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. the charge of cowardice. He believed that Todd and Trigg were jealous of Logan, who was the senior colonel, and would have taken the command had he come up. This statement he made to a gentleman several years after the battle took place. He said also to the same person, that when he found tliem hesitating in the presence of the enemy, he " burst into a passion," called them cowards, and dashed into the river as before narrated. If this account be true, it may somewhat palliate, but certainly not justify the action. Before the fugitives reached Bryant's Station they met Logan advancing with his detach- ment. The exaggerated accounts he received of the slaughter induced him to return to the above-mentioned place. On the next mornino" all who had escaped from the battle were as- sembled, when Logan found himself at the head of four hundred and fifty men. With this force, accompanied by Colonel Boone, he set out for the scene of action, hoping that the enemy, encouraged by their success, would await hi;^ arrival, But when he reached the field LIFE OF DANIEL BOOXE. 0(,9 he found it deserted. The bodies of the slain Kentuckians, frightfully mangled, were strewed over the ground. After collecting and interring these, Logan and Boone, Unding they could do nothing jnore, returned to Bryant's Station, where they disbanded the troops. "By such rash men as McGary," says Mr. Peck,^ "Colonel Boone was charged with want of courage, when the result prov^ed his superior wisdom and foresight. All the testi- mony gives Boone credit for his sagacity and correctness in judgment before the action and his coolness and self-possession in covering the retreat. His report of this battle to Benjamin Harrison, Governor of Virginia, is one of the few documents that remain from his pen." " Boone's Station^ Fayette County^ August ?>()th, 1782. " Sir : Present circumstances of affairs cause me to write to your Excellency as follows : On the 16th instant a lai'ge number of Indians, "with some white men, attacked one of our fron- * " Life of Boone," p. 130. »4 210 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tier Stations, known by the name of Bryant's Station. The siege continued from about sun- rise till about ten o'clock the next day, when they marched off. Notice being given to the neigh- boring Stations, we immediately raised one hundred and eighty-one horse, commanded by Colonel John Todd, including some of the Lin- coln County militia, commanded by Colonel Trigg, and pursued about forty miles. " On the 19th instant we discovered the enemy lying in wait for us. On this discovery, we formed our columns into one single line, and marched up in their front within about forty yards, before there was a gun fired. Colonel Trigg commanded on the right, myself on the left. Major McGary in the center, and Major Hai'lan the advanced party in front. From the manner in w^hich we had formed, it fell to my lot to bring on the attack. This was done with a very hea\y fire on both sides, and extended back of the line to Colonel Trigg, where the enemy were so strong they rushed up and broke the right wing at the first fire. Thus the enemy got in our rear, with the loss of seventy-seven of LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 211 oiu' men and twelve wounded. Afterward we were reinforced by Colonel Logan, whicli made our force four hundred and sixty men. We marched again to the battle-ground ; but find- ing the enemy had gone, we proceeded to bury the dead. ''We found forty-three on the ground, and many lay about, which we could not stay to find, hungry and weary as we were, and some- what dubious that the enemy might not have gone off quite. By the signs, we thought that the Indians had exceeded four hundred ; ^vhile the whole of this militia of the county does not amount to more than one hundred and thirty. From these facts your Excellency may fonn an idea of our situation. " I know that your own circumstances are ciitical ; but are we to be wholly forgotten ? I hope not. I trust about five hundred men may be sent to our assistance immediately. If these shall be stationed as our county lieutenants shall deem necessary, it may be the means of saving our part of the country ; but if they are placed under the direction of General Clark, they ^viU 212 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. be of little or no ser\nce to our settlement. The Falls lie one hundred miles west of us, and the Indians northeast ; while our men are fre- quently called to protect them. 1 have encour- aged the people in this county all that I could ; but I can no longer justify them or myself to risk our lives here under such extraordinary hazards. The inhabitants of this county are very much alarmed at the thoughts of the Indians bring- ing another campaign into our country this fall. If this should be the case, it will break up these settlements. I hope, therefore, your Excellency will take the matter into consideration and send us some relief as quick as possible. " These are my sentiments, without consulting any person. Colonel Logan will, I expect, im- mediately send you an express, by whom I humbly request your Excellency's answer. In the meanwhile, I remain, ^'Daniel Boone." CHAPTER XVII. The Indians return home from the Blue Licks— They attack the settlements in Jefferson County— Affair at Simpson's Ci-eek— General Clark's expedition to the Indian country- Colonel Boone joins it— Its effect— Attack of the Indians on the Crab Orchard settlement— Rumor of intended inva- sion by the Cherokees— Difficulties about the treaty with Great Britain— Hostilities of the Indians generally stim- ulated by renegade whites — Simon Girty— Causes of his hatred of the whites— Girty insulted by General Lewis- Joins the Indians at the battle of Point Pleasant— Story of his rescuing Simon Kenton— Crawford's expedition, and the Burning of Crawford— Close of Girty*s career. Most of tlie Indians who had taken part itt the battle of the Blue Licks, according to their custom, returned home to boast of their victory, thus abandoning all the advantages which might have resulted to them from following up their suc- cess. Some of them, however, attacked the settle- ments in Jefferson County, but they were pre- vented from doing much mischief by the vigilance of the inhabitants. They succeeded, however, in breakino; up a small settlement on Simpson's 214 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Creek. This tliey attacked in tlie night, wMle the men, wearied by a scout of several days, were asleep. The enemy entered the houses before their occupants were fully aroused. Notwith standing this, several of the men defended themselves with great courage. Thompson Ran- dolph killed several Indians before his wife anu infant were struck down at his side, when he es- caped with his remaining child through the roof. On reaching the ground he was assailed by two of the savages, but he beat tkem off, and escaped. Several women escaped to the woods, and two were secreted under the floor of a cabin, where they remained undiscovered. Still the Indians captured quite a number of women and children, some of whom they put to deatb on tlie road home. The rest were liberated the next year upon the conclusion of peace with the English. General George Rogers Clark proposed a re- taliatory expedition into the Indian country, and, to carry out the plan, called a council of the superior officers. The council agreed to his plan, and preparations were made to raise the requisite number of troops by drafting, if there should be, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 215 any deficiency of volunteers. But it was not found necessary to resort to compulsory meas- ures, both men and supplies for the expedition were raised without difficulty. The troops to the number of one thousand, all mounted, as- sembled at Bryant's Station, and the Falls of the Ohio, from whence the two detachments marched under Logan and Floyd to the mouth of the Licking, where General Clark assumed the command. Colonel Boone took part in this expedition ; but probably as a volunteer. He is not mentioned as having a separate command. The history of this expedition, like most others of the same nature, possesses but little interest. The army with all the expedition they could make, and for which the species of force was peculiarly favorable, failed to surprise the Indians. These latter opposed no resistance of importance to the advance of the army. Occa- sionally, a straggling party would fire upon the Kentuckians, but never waited to receive a similar conijpliment in return. Seven Indians were taken prisoners and three or four killed ; one of them an old chief, too infirm to fly, was 216 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. killed by Major McGaiy. The towns of the Indians were burnt and their iields devastated. The expedition returned to Kentucky ^vith the loss of four men, two of whom were accidentally killed by their own comrades. This invasion, though apparently so barren of result, is supposed to have produced a beneficial effect, by impressing the Indians \a ith the num- bers and courage of the Kentuckians. They appear from this time to have given up the ex- pectation of reconquering the country, and con- fined their hostilities to the rapid incursions of small bands. During the expedition of Clark, a party of Indians penetrated to the Crab Orchard settle- ment. They made an attack upon a single house, containing only a woman, a negro man, and two or three children. One of the Indians, who had been sent in advance to rex^onnoiter, seeing the weakness of the garrison, thought to get all the glory of the achievement to him- self. He boldly entered the house and seized the negro, w^ho proving strongest threw him on the LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 217 floor, when the woman despatclied him with an ax. The other Indians, coming up, attempted to force open the door, which had been closed by the children during the scuffle. There was no gun in the house, but the woman seized an old barrel of one, and thrust the muzzle through the logs, at which the Indians re- treated. The year 1783 passed away without any dis- turbance from the Indians, who were restrained by the desertion of their allies the British. In 1784, the southern frontier of Kentucky was alarmed by the rumor of an intended invasion by the Cherokees, and some preparations were made for an expedition against them, which fell through, however, because there was no au- thority to carry it on. The report of the hos- tility of the Cherokees proved to be untrue. Meanwhile difficulties arose in perfomiance of the terms of the treaty between England and the United States. They appear to have orig- inated in a dispute in regard to an article con- tained in the treaty pro\ading that the British army should not carry away with them any 218 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. negroes or other property belonging to the American inhabitants. In consequence of what they deemed an infraction of this article, the Virginians refused to comply -vvith another, which stipulated for the repeal of acts prohibit- ing the collection of debts due to British sub- jects. The British, on the other hand, refused to evacuate the western posts till this article w^as complied with. It was natural that the intercoui'se which had always existed between the Indians and the garrison of these posts, during the period they had acted as allies, should continue, and it did. In the unwritten history of the difficulties of the United States Government with the Indian tribes within her established boundaries, noth- ing appears clearer than this truth: that the fierce and sanguinary resistance of the aborigines to the encroachments of the Anglo-Americans has ever been begun and continued more through the instigations of outlawed white men, who had sought protection among them from the arm of the law or the knife of indi\ddual vengeance, and been adopted into their tribes, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. £19 than from the promptings of theii- own judg. ments, their disregard of death, their thirst for the blood of their oppressors, or their love of country.* That their sense of wrong has at all times been keen, their hate deadly, and their braveiy great, is a fact beyond dispute; and that they have prized highly their old hunting-grounds, and felt a waim and lively attachment to their beautiful village sites, and regarded with especial veneration the burial-places of their fathers, their whole history attests ; but of their own weakness. in war, before the ams and numbers of their enemies, they must have been convinced at a very early period; and they were neither so duU in apprehension, nor so weak in intellect, as not soon to have perceived the utter hopelessness, and felt the mad folly of a continued contest with their invaders. Long before the settlement of the whites upon this continent, the Indians had been subject to bloody and exterminating wars among them- selves; and such conflicts had generally resulted • GaUagher. " Hesperiaji," voL i. p. 843. 220 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. in the flight of the weaker party towards the West, and the occupancy of their lands by the conquerors. Many of the tribes had a tradition among them, and regarded it as their unchange- able destiny, that they were to journey from the rising to the setting sun, on tlieir way to the bright waters and the gi'een forests of the ''Spirit Land," and the ^vorHng out of this destiny seems apparent, if not in the location, course, and character of the tumuli and other remains of the great aboriginal nations of whom even tradition furnishes no account, certainly in what we know of the history of the tribes found on the Atlantic coast by the first Eui^o- pean settlers. It seems fairly presumable, from our knowl- edge of the history and character of the North American Indians, that had they been left to the promptings of their o\vn judgments, and been influenced only by the deliberations of their own councils, they would, after a brief, but perhaps most bloody, resistance to the en- cmachments of the whites, have bowed to what would have struck their untutored minds as ay LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 221 irie\dtable destiny, and year after year flowed silently, as the European wave pressed upon them, fui-tlier and further into tlie vast wildernesses of the mighty West. But left to their own judgments, or their own delib- erations, tliey never have been. Early armed by renegade white men with European weap- ons, and taught the improvement of their own rude instruments of warfare, and instigated not onl}^ to oppose the strides of their enemies after territory, but to commit depredations upon their settlements, and to attempt to chastise them at theii' very thresholds, they drew down upon themselves the wrath of a people which is not slow to anger, nor easily appeased ; and as far back as the Revolution, if not as the colonizing of Massachusetts, their breasts were fQled wdth a hatred of the whites, deadly and unslumberini2^. Throuo^h all our subse- quent transactions with tliem, this feeling has been increasing in magnitude and intensity : and recent events have carried it to a pitch which will render it enduring forever, perhaps not in its activity, but certainly in its bitterness. 2^22 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Whether more amicable relations with the whites during the first settlements made upon this continent by the Europeans would have changed materially the ultimate destiny of the aboriginal tribes, is a question about which diversities of opinion may well be entertained ; but it is not to be considered here. The fierce, and bloody, and continuous op- position which the Indians have made from the first to the encroachments of the Anglo-x\meri- cans is matter of history : and close scrutiny mil show that the great instigators of that op- position have always, or nearly so, been Tene* gade wTiite men. Scattered through the tribes east of the Alleghanies, before and during the American Revolution, there were many such miscreants. Among the Western tribes, during the early settlement of Kentucky and Ohio, and at the period of the last war with Great Britain, there were a number, some of them men of talent and great activity. One of the boldest and most notorious of these latter was one whom we have had frequent occasion to men- tion, Simon Girty — for many years the scourge LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 223 of the infant settlements in the West, the terror of women, and the bugaboo of children. This man was an adopted member of the great Wyandot nation, among whom he ranked high as an expert hunter, a brave warrior, and a pow- erful orator. His influence extended through all the tribes of the West, and was generally exerted to incite the Indians to expeditions against the " Stations " of Kentucky, and to acts of cruelty to their white prisoners. The blood- iest counsel was usually his ; his was the voice which was raised loudest against his country- men, who were preparing the way for the intro- duction of civilization and Christianity into this glorious region ; and in all great attacks upon the frontier settlements he was one of the prime movers, and among the prominent leaders. Of the causes of that venomous hatred, which rankled in the bosom of Simon Girty against his countrymen, we have two or three versions: such as, that he early imbibed a feeling of con- tempt and abhorrence of civilized life, from the brutality of his father, the lapse from virtue of 224: LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. his mother, and the corruptions of the com munity in which he had passed his boyhood ; that, while acting with bravery against the Indians on the Virginia border, he was stung to the quick, and deeply offended by the appoint- ment to a station over his head, of one who was his junior in years, and had rendered nothing like his services to the frontiers ; and that, when attached as a scout to Dunmore's expedition, an indignity was heaped upon him Avhich thor- oughly soured his nature, and drove him to the Indians, that he might more effectually execute a vengeance which he swore to wreak. The last reason assigned for his defection and ani- mosity is the most probable of the three, rests upon good authority, and seems sufficient, his character considered, to account for his desertion and subsequent career among the Indians. The history of the indignity alluded to, as it has reached the writer ^ from one who Avas associated Math Girty and a partaker in it, is as follows ; The two were acting as scouts in the expedition Bet on foot by Governor Dunmore, of Virginia, * Gallagher. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 225 in the year 1774, against the Indian towns of Ohio. The two di\dsions of the force raised for this expedition, the one commanded by Governor Dunmore in person, the other by General Andrew Le^vis, were by the orders of the Gov- ernor to form a junction at Point Pleasant, where the Great Kanawha empties into the Ohio. At this place. General Lewis arrived with his com- mand on the eleventh or twelfth of September ; but after remaining here two or three ^v^eeks in anxious expectation of the approach of the other division, he received despatches from the Gov- ernor informing him that Dunmore had changed his plan, and determined to marcli at once against the villages on the Scioto, and ordering him to cross the Ohio immediately and join him as speedily as possible. It was during the delay at the Point that the incident occurred which is supposed to Iiave had such a tremendous in- fluence upon Girt>''s after-life. He and his as- sociate scout had rendered some t^\^o or three months' services, for which they had as yet drawn no part of their pay ; and in their present idleness they discovered means of enjoyment, of 226 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. which they had not money to avail themselves. In this strait they called upon General Lewis in person at his quarters and demanded their pay. For some unknown cause this was refused, which produced a slight murmuring on the part of the applicants, when General Lems cursed them, and struck them several severe blows over their heads with his cane. Girty's associate was not much hurt ; but he himself was so badly wounded on the forehead or temple that the blood streamed down his cheek and side to the floor. He quickly turned to leave the apartment, but, on reaching the door, wheeled round, planted his feet firmly upon the sill, braced an arm against either side of the frame, fixed his keen eyes unflinchingly upon the general, uttered the ex- clamation, " Bij God^ si/\ your quarters shall swim ill hlood for this ! " and instantly disap- peared beyond pursuit. General Le^vis was not much pleased mth the sudden and apparently causeless change which Governor Dunmore had made in the plan of the expedition. Nevertheless, he immedi- ately prepared to obey the new orders, and had LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^27 given dli^ections for the construction of rafts upon widch to cross the Ohio, when, before day- light on the morning of the 10th of October, some of the scouts suddenly entered the encamp- ment with the infonnation that an immense body of Indians was just at hand, hastening upon the Point. This was the force of the brave and skilful chief Cornstalk, whose genius and valor were so conspicuous on that day, throughout the whole of which raged the hardly-contested and most bloody Battle of the Point, Givtj had fled from General Lewis im- mediately to the chief Cornstalk, forsworn his white nature, and leagued himself with the Eed- man forever; and ^vith the Indians he was now advancing, under the cover of night, to sui'prise the Virginian camp. At the distance of only a mile from the Point Cornstalk was met by a de- tachment of the Virginians, under the command of Colonel Charles Lewis, a brother of the gen- eral ; and here, about sunrise on the 10th of Oc- tober, 1774, commenced one of the longest, severest, and bloodiest battles ever fought upon the Western frontiers. It terminated, as we ^28 ^i?^£^ OF DANIEL BOONE. have seen, about sunset, with the defeat of the Indians, it is ti-ue, but with a loss to the whites which carried mourning into many a mansion of the Old Dominion, and which ^vas keenly felt throughout the countiy at the time, and remem- bered with sorrow long after. Gii*ty having thrown himself among the In- dians, as has been related, and embraced their cause, now retreated with them into the interior of Ohio, and ever after followed their fortunes without swerving. On arriving at the to^vns of the Wyandots, he was adopted into that tribe, and established himself at Upper Sandusky. Being active, of a strong constitution, fearless in the extreme, and at all times ready to join their war parties, he soon become very popular among his new associates, and a man of much consequence. He was engaged in most of the expeditions against the frontier settlements of Pennsylvania and Vii'ginia — always brave and always cruel — till the year 1778, when occurred an incident which, as it the only bright spot ap- parent on the whole dark career of the rene- gade, shall be related with some particularity. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 229 Girty happened to be at Lower Sandusky this year, when Kenton— known at that period as Simon Butler— was brought in to be exe- cuted by a party of Indians who had made him a prisoner on the banks of the Ohio. Years be- f .re, Kenton and Girty had been bosom com- panions at Fort Pitt, and served together subse- quently in the commencement of Dunmore's ex- pedition ; but the victim was already blackened for the stake, and the renegade failed to recog- nize in him his former associate. Girty had at this time but just returned from an expedition against the frontier of Pennsylvania which had been less successful than he had anticipated, and was enraged by disappohitment. He, there- fore, as soon as Kenton was brought into the village, began to give vent to a portion of his spleen by cuffing and kicking the prisoner, whom he eventually knocked down. He knew that Kenton had come from Kentucky ; and this harsh treatment was bestowed in part, it is thought, to frighten the prisoner into answers of such questions as he might wish to ask him. He then inquired how many men there 230 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. were in Kentucky. Kenton could not answer this question, but ran over the names and ranks of such of the officers as he at the time recollected. " Do you know William Stewart ? " asked Giii:y. " Perfectly well," replied Kenton ; " he is an old and intimate acquaintance." " Ah ! what is your name, then ? " " Simon Butler," answered Kenton ; and on the instant of this announce- ment the hardened renegade caught his old com- rade by the hand, lifted him fi'om the ground, pressed him to his bosom, asked his forgiveness for having treated him so brutally, and promised to do everything in his power to save his life and set him at liberty. " Syme ! " said he, weep- ing like a child, " you are condemned to die, but it shall go hard with me, I tell you, but I will save you from tliaty There have been various accounts given of this interesting scene, and all agree in represent- ing Girty as having been deeply affected, and moved for the moment to penitence and tears. The foundation of McClung's detail of the speeches made upon the occasion was a manuscript dictated by Kenton himself a LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^31 nuniDer of years before his deatiu From this write.^ we therefore quote : " As soon as Girty heard the name he became strongly agitated ; and, springing from his seat, he threw iis arms around Kenton's neck, and em- braced him with much emotion. Then turninp- to the assembled warriors, who remained aston- ished spectatoiB of this extraordinary scene, li^ addressed them in a short speech, which the deep earnestness of his tone, and the energy of his gesture, rendered eloquent. He informed them that the prisoner, whom they had just eon- demned to the stake, was his ancient comrade and bosom friend ; that they had traveled the same warpath, slept upon the same blanket and dwelt in the same wigwam. He entreated them to have compassion on his feelings — to spare him the agony of witnessing the tor- ture of an old friend by the hands of his adopted brothers, and not to refuse so trifling a favor as the life of a white man to the earnest intercession of one who had proved, by three years' faithful service, that he was sincerely and zealously devoted to the cause of the Indians. 232 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. "The sj)eecli was listened to in nnbi^keu silence. As soon as lie had finished, s^^'eral chiefs expressed tlieir approbation by a deep guttiu-al interjection, while others were ^qually as forward in making kno^vn their objections to the proposal. They urged that Iiie fate had al- ready been determined in a large and solemn council, and that they Avould be acting like scjuaws to change their minds every hour. They insisted upon the flagrant misdemeanors of Kenton — that he had not only stolen their horses, but had flashed his gun at one of their young men — that it was ^ain to suppose that so bad a man could ever become an Indian at heart, like their brother Girt\- — that the Ken- tuckians were all alike — very bad people — and ought to be killed as fast as they were taken — and Anally, they observed that many- of their people had come trom a distance, solely to assist at the torture of the prisoner, and pathetically painted the disappointment and chagrin with which they would hear that all their trouble had been for nothing. '' Gij'h' listened with <»b\-ious impatience to LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 233 the young warriors who had so ably argued against a reprieve — and starting to his feet, as soon as the others had concluded, he urged his former request with great earnestness. He briefly, but strongly recapitulated his own serv- ices, and the many and weighty instances of attachment he had given. He asked if lie could be suspected of partiality to the whites ? When had he ever before interceded for any of that hated race ? Had he not brought seven scalps home with him from the last expedition ? and had he not submitted seven white prisoners that very evening to their discretion ? Had he ever expressed a ^dsh that a single captive should be saved ? TJiis ^vas his first and should be his last request : for if they refused to Z/;/?, what was never refused to the intei'cession of one of their natural chiefs, he would look upon himself as disgraced in their eyes, and considered as un- Avorthy of confidence. Which of their own natural warriors had been more zealous than himself? From what expedition had he ever shrunk ? — \vhat white man had ever seen his l>ack? AVhose tomahawk had been bloodier 23tl: LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. than his ? He would say no more. He asked it as a first and last favor, as an evidence that they approved of his zeal and fidelity, that the life of his bosom friend might be spared. Fresh speakers arose upon each side, and the debate was carried on for an hour and a half with great heat and energy. "During the whole of this time, Kenton's feelings may readily be imagined. He could not understand a syllable of what was said. He saw that Girty spoke Avith deep earnestness, and that the eyes of the assembly were often tui'ned upon himself with various expressions. He felt satisfied that his friend was pleading for his life, and that he was violently opposed by a large part of the council. At length the war-club was produced, and the final vote taken. Kenton watched its progress mth thrill- ing emotion — which pelded to the most rapt- urous delight, as he perceived that those who struck the floor of the council-house were decid- edly inferior in number to those w^ho passed it in silence. Having thus succeeded in his benev- olent purpose, Girty lost no time in attending LIFE OP IDAKTEI. BOONE. 235 to the comfort of his friend. He led him into his own wigwam, and from his o^vn store gave him a pair of moccasins and leggins, a breech- cloth, a hat, a coat, a handkerchief for his neck and another for his head." In the course of a few weeks, and after pass- ing through some further difficulties, in which the renegade again stood by him faithfully, Kenton was sent to Detroit, from which place he effected his escape and returned to Kentucky. Girty remained wdth the Indians, retaining his old influence, and continuing his old career ; and four years after the occurrences last detailed, in 1782, we find him a prominent figure in one of the blackest tragedies that have ever disgraced the annals of mankind. It is generally believed by the old settlers and their immediate descend ants, that the influence of Gii^ty at this period over the confederate tribes of the whole north •west, was almost supreme. He had, it is true no delegated authority, and of course was pow erless as regarded the final determination of any important measure ; but his voice was pei-mitted in council among the chiefs and his inflaming 230 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. haraugiies were always listened to with delight by the young warriors. Among the sachems and other head-men, he was what may well be styled a " power behind the throne " ; and as it is well known that this unseen power is often " greater than the throne itself," it may reason- ably be presumed that Girty's influence was in reality all which it is supposed to have been. The horrible event alluded to above was the burniiig of Crmvford ; and as a knowledge of this dark passage in his life is necessary to a full development of the character of the renegade, an account of the incident, as much condensed as possible, \vill be given from the histories of the unfoi-tunate campaign of that year. The frontier settlements of Pennsylvania and Virginia had been greatly harassed by repeated attacks from bands of Indians under Girty and some of the Wyandot and Shawanee chiefs, dur- ing the whole period of the Kevolutionary War ; and early in the spring of 1782 these savage incursions became so frequent and galling, and the common mode of fighting the Indians on the line of frontier, when forced to do so in self- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 23T defense, proved so inefficient, that it was found absolutely neeessaiy to carry the war into the country of the enemy. For this purpose an expedition against the AVyandot to^VIl8 on the Sandusky was gotten up in May, and put under the command of Colonel William Crawford, a brave soldier of the Kevolution. This force, amounting to upward of four hundred mounted volunteers, commenced its march through the wilderness northwest of the Ohio River, on the 25th of May, and reached tlie plains of the San- dusky on the 5th of June. A spii-it of insubor- dination had manifested itself during tlie march, and on one occasion a small body of the volun- teers abandoned the expedition and returned to their liomes. The disaffection which had pre- vailed on the march continued to disturb the com- mander and divide the ranks, after their arrival upon the very site (now deserted temporarily) of one of tlie enemy's principal towns ; and the officers, yielding to the mshes of theii^ men, had actually determined, in a hasty council, to abandon the objects of the expedition and return home, if they did not meet ^vith the Indians in 23S LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, large force in the coiu^se of another day^s march. Scarcely had this determination been anjaounced, however, when Colonel Crawford received in- telligence from his scouts of the near approach of a lai^ge body of the enemy. Preparations were at once made for the engagement, which almost instantly commenced. It was now about the middle of the afternoon; and from this time till dusk the firing was hot and galling on both sides. About dark the Indians drew off their force, when the volunteers encamped upon the battle-ground and slept on their arms. The next day the battle was renewed by small detachments of the enemy, but no general engagement took place. The Indians had suffered severely from the close firing which en- sued upon their first attack, and were now ma- neuvering and awaiting the arrival of reinforce- ments. No sooner had night closed upon this madly spent day, than the officers assembled in council. They were unanimous in tlie opinion that the enemy, already as they thought more numerous than their own force, was rapidly increasing in numbers. They therefore deter- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 230 mined, without a dissenting voice, to retreat that night, as rapidly as circumstances would permit. This resolution was at once announced to the whole body of volunteers, and the arrange- ments necessary to carry it into effect were im- mediately commenced. By nine or ten o'clock everything was in readiness — the troops properly disposed — and the retreat begun in good order. But unfortunately, says McClung, "they had scarcely moved an hundred paces, when the report of several rifles was heard in the rear, in the direction of the Indian encampment. The troops instantly became very unsteady. At length a solitary voice, in the front rank, called out that their design was discovered, and that the Indians would soon be upon them. Nothing more was necessary. The cavalry were instantly broken ; and, as usual, each man endeavored to save himself as he best could. A prodigious uproar ensued, which quickly communicated to the enemy that the white men had routed them- selves, and that they had nothing to do but pick up stragglers." A scene of confusion and car- nage now took place which almost beggars 2i0 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. description. All tliat night and for tlie whole of the next day, the work of hunting out, running down, and butchering continued without inter- mission. But a relation of these sad occurrences does not properly belong to this nari'ative. The brief account of the expedition which has been given was deemed necessary as an introduction to the event which now claims attention. Among the prisoners taken hy the Indians w^ere Colonel Crawford, the commander, and Dr. Knight, of Pittsburg, who had gone upon the expedition as sm^geon. On the 10th of June these gentlemen were marched toward the principal town of the Wyandots, where they arrived the next day. Here they beheld the mangled bodies of some of their late companions, and were doomed to see others, yet living, butchered before their eyes. Here, likewise, they saw" Simon Girty, who appeared to take an infernal delight in gazing upon the dead bodies, and \dewing the tortures which were inflicted upon the li^dng. The features of this wretch, who had known Colonel Crawford at Fort Pitt, were clad in malicious smiles at beholding the LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 211 brave soldier in his present strait; and toward Dr. Knight he conducted himself with insolence as w^ell as barbarity. The Colonel ^vas soon stripped naked, painted black, and commanded to sit down by a large fire which was blazing close at hand ; and in this situation he was sur- rounded by all the old women and young boys of the town, and severely beaten with sticks and clubs. While this Avas going on, the In- dians were sinking a large stake in the ground, and building a circle of brushwood and hickory sticks aroimd it, with a diameter of some twelve or fifteen feet. These preparations completed, Crawford's hands were tied firmly behind his back, and by his wrists he ^vas bound to the stake. The pile was then fired in several places, and the quick flames curled into the air. Girty took no part in these operations, but sat upon his horse at a little distance, observing them with a malignant satisfaction. Catching his eye at the moment the pile was fired, Crawford inquired of the renegade if the savages really meant to burn hinL Girty coldly answered " Yes," and the Colonel calmly resigned himself 16 242 LIFR OF DANIEL BOONE. to Lis fate. The Avhole scene is minutely de* scribed in the several histories which have been written of this unfortunate expedition ; but the particulars are too horrible to be dwelt upon here. For more than two hom-s did the gallant soldier sur\dve at that ilame-girdled stake ; and during the latter half of this time he was put to every torture which savage ingenuity could devise and hellish vengeance execute. Once only did a word escape his lips. In the ex- tremity of his agony he again caught the eye of Girty ; and he is reported to have exclaimed at this time, " Girty ! Girty ! shoot me through the heart ! Do not refuse me ! quick ! — quick ! " And it is said that the monster merely replied, " Don't you see I have no gun, Colonel ? " then biu*st into a loud laugh and turned away. Crawford said no more; he sank repeatedly beneath the pain and suffocation which he en- dured, and was as often aroused by a new tor- ture ; but in a little while the " vital spark " fled, and the black and swollen body lay sense- less at the foot of the stake. Dr. Knight was now removed from the spot, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 243 and placed under the charge of a Shawanee warrior to be taken to Chillicothe, where he was to share in the terrible fate of his late com- panion. The Doctor, however, was fortunate enough to effect his escape, and after wandering through the mlderness for three weeks, in a state boa-dering on starvation, he reached Pitts- burg. He had been an eye-witness of all the tortures inflicted upon the Colonel, and subse- quently published a journal of the expedition ; and it is from this that the particulars have been derived of the several accounts which have been published of the litrning of Craw* ford,^ It was not to be expected that such a man as Simon Girty could, for a great many years, maintain his influence among a people headed by chiefs and warriors like Black-Hood, Buck- ongahelas, Little Turtle, Tuthe, and so forth. Accordingly M'e And the ascendency of the renegade at its height about the period of the expedition against Bryant's Station, already described ; and not long after this it began to * Gallagher, 244 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. wane, when, discontent and disappointment in- ducing him to give way to his natural appetites, he partook freely of all intoxicating liquors, and in the course of a few years became a beastly drunkard. It is believed that he at one time seriously meditated an abandonment of the In- dians and a return to tlie whites ; and an anec- dote related by McClung, in his notice of the emigration to Kentucky, by way of the Ohio River, in the year 1785, would seem to give color to this opinion. But if the intention ever was seriously indulged, it is most likely that fear of the treatment he would receive on be- ing recognized in the frontier settlements, on account of his many bloody enormities, pre- vented him from carrying it into effect. He re- mained with the Indians in Ohio till Wayne's victory, when he forsook the scenes of his for- mer influence and savage greatness, and estab- lished himself somewhere in Upper Canada. He fought in the bloody engagement which termi- nated in the defeat and butchery of St. Clair's army in 1791, and was at the battle of the Fal- len Timbers in 179-4, but he had no command in LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 245 eitlier of tliose engagements, and was not at this time a man of any particular influence. In Canada, Girty was something of a trader, but gave himself up almost wholly to intoxicat- ing diinks, and became a perfect sot. At this time he suffered much from rheumatism and other diseases ; but he had grown a great braggart, and amidst his severest pains he would entertain his associates, and all who were will- ing to listen, with stories of his past prowess and cruelty. He had now the most exaggerated no- tions of the honor attaching to the character of a great warrior ; and for some years before his death his constantly-expressed wish was, that he might find an opportunity of signalizing his last years by some daring action, and die upon the field of battle. Whether sincere in this wish or not, the opportunity was afforded him. He fought with the Indians at Proctor's defeat on the Thames in 1814, and was among those who were here cut down and trodden imder foot by Colonel Johnson's regiment of mounted Kentuckians. Of the birthplace and family of Simon Girty 24g LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. we have not been able to procure any aatisfac- tory information. It is generally supposed, from tlie fact that nearly all of his early compan> ions were Virginians, that he was a native of the Old Dominion ; but one of the early pio- neers (yet living in Franklin County), who knew Girty at Pittsburg before his defection, thinks that his native State was Pennsylvania. This venerable gentleman is like^vise of the opinion, that it was the disappointment of not getting an office to which he aspired that first filled Girty's breast \^dth hatred of the whites, and roused in him those dark thoughts and bitter feelings which subsequently, on the occurrence of the first good opportunity, induced him to desert his countr^nnen and league himself with the Indians. That Girty was an applicant or candidate for some office, and was defeated in his efforts to obtain it by an individual who was generally considered less desendng of it than he, my informant has distinct recollections ; and also remembers that his defeat was occa- sioned principally through the exertions, in be- half of his opponent, of Colonel William Craw- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 2J:7 ford. This affords a key to the cause of Girfey's fiendlike conduct toward the Colonel when, some ten years afterward, the latter was bound to the stake at one of the Wyandot towns, and in the extremity of his agony besought the rene- gade to put an end to his misery by shooting him through the heart: it offers no apology, however, for Girty's brutality on that occasion. The career of the renegade, commenced by treason and pursued through blood to the knee, affords a good lesson, which might well receive some remark; but this nan^ative has already extended to an unexpected length, and must here close. It is a dark record ; but the his- tories of all new countries contain somewhat similar passages, and their preservation in this form may not be altogether without useful- ness.* • Gallagher. CHAPTER XVIII. Season of repose— Colonel Boone buys land — Builds a log- house and goes to farming — Kentucky organized on a new basis — The three counties united in one district, and coiu'ts established — Colonel Boone surprised by Indians — Escapes by a bold stratagem — Increase of emigration — Transporta- tion of goods commences — Primitive manners and customs of the settlers — Hunting — The autumn hunt — The hunting camp — Qualification of a good hunter — Animals hunted — The process of building and furnishing a cabin — The hoase- warming. After tlie series of Indian hostilities recorded in the chapters immediatel}' preceding this, Kentucky enjoyed a season of comparative re- pose. The cessation of hostilities between the United States and Great Britain in 1783, and the probable speedy cession of the British posts on the Northwestern frontier, discouraged the Indians, stopped their customary incursions on the Kentuckians, and gave them leisure to ac- quire and cultivate new tracts of land. Colonel Boone, notwithstanding the heary ^48 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 210 loss of money (Avhich has been already men- tioned) as he was on his journey to North Caro- lina, was now able to purchase several locations of land. He had been compensated for his military sei'vices by the Commonwealth of Virginia, to which Kentucky still belonged. On one of his locations he built a comfortable log-house and recommenced farming, with his usual industry and perseverance, varying the pursuits of agri- culture with occasional indulgence in his favor- ite sport of hunting. In 1783 Kentucky organized herself on a new basis, Virginia having united three counties into one district, having a court of common law and chancery for the whole territory which now forms the State of Kentucky. The seat of justice at first was at Harrodsburg; but for want of convenient accommodations for the sessions of the courts, they were subsequently removed to Danville, which, in consequence, became for a season the center and capital of the Stat^.* A singular and highly characteristic adven- * Perking. Peck. ^•50 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ture, in wliich Boone was engaged about this time, is thus narrated by Mr. Peck : "Though no hostile attacks from Indians disturbed the settlements, still there were small parties discovered or signs seen on the frontier settlements. On one occasion about this period four Indians came to the farm of Colonel Boone, and nearly succeeded in taking him prisoner. The particulars are given as they were narrated by Boone himself, at the wedding of a grand- daughter a few months before his decease, and they furnish an illustration of his habitual self- possession and tact with Indians. At a short dis- tance from his cabin he had raised a small patch of tobacco to supply his neighbors (for Boone never nsed the 'filthy weed' himself), the amount, perhaps, of one hundred and fiftj^ hills. " As a shelter for curing it, he had built an enclosure of rails, a dozen feet in height, and covered it with cane and grass. Stalks of to- bacco are usually split and strung on sticks about four feet in length. The ends of these are laid on poles, placed across the tobacco LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 25 1 house, and in tiers, one above the other to the roof. Boone had fixed his temporary shelter in such a manner as to have three tiers. He had covered the lower tier, and the tobacco had become dry, when he entered the shelter for the purpose of remo-sdng the sticks to the upper tier, preparatory to gathering the re- mainder of the crop. He had hoisted up the sticks from the lower to the second tier and was standing on the poles that supported it while raising the sticks to the upper tier, when four stout Indians with guns entered the low door and called him by name. ' Now, Boone, we got you. You no get away more. We cany you oif to Chill icothe this time. You no cheat us any more.' Boone looked down upon their upturned faces, saw theii^ loaded guns pointed at his breast, and recognizing some of his old friends the Shawanees, who had made him prisoner near the Blue Licks in 1778, coolly and pleasantly responded, 'Ah, old friends, glad to see you.' Perceiving that they manifested impatience to have him come down, he told them he was quite willing to go with 252 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. them, and only l)egged they would wait ^vhere they were, and watch him closely, until he could finish removing his tobacco. "While parleying with them, inquiring after old acquaintances, and proposing to give them his tobacco when cured, he diverted their atten- tion from his purpose until he had collected too:ether a number of sticks of dry tobacco, and so turned them as to fall between tlie poles directly in their faces. At the same instant he jumped upon them with as much of the dry tobacco as he could gather in his arms, filling their mouths and eyes with its pungent dust; and blinding and disabling them from following him, rushed out and hastened to his cabin, where he had the means of defense. Notwith- standing the narrow escape, he could not resist the temptation, after retreating some fifteen or twenty yards, to look round and see the success of his achievement. The Indians, blinded and nearly suilocated, were stretching out their hands and feeling about in different directions, calling him by name and cursing him for a rogue, and themselves for fools. The old man, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 253 in telliug the story, imitated theii* gestures and tones of voice with great glee.'' Emigration to Kentucky was now rapidly on the increase, and many new settlements were formed. The means of establishing comfortable homesteads increased. Horses, cattle, and swine were rapidly increasing in nimiber, and trading in various commodities became more general. From Philadelphia merchandise was trans- ported to Pittsbui'g on pack-horses, and thence taken down the Ohio Kiver in flat- boats and distributed among the settlements on its banks. Country stores, land specula- tors, and paper money made their appearance, affording a clear augury of the future activity of the "West in commercial industry and enter- prise. Most of the settlers came from the interior of North Carolina and Virginia ; and brought with them the manners and customs of those States. These manners and customs were primitive enough. The folloAving exceedingly graphic description, which we transcribe from " Dod- dridge's Notes," will afford the reader a compe- 254 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tent idea of rural life in the times of Daniel Boone. " Hunting. — ^This was an impoi'tant part of the employment of the early settlers of this country. For some years the woods supplied them with the greater amount of their subsist- ence, and with regard to some families, at certain times, the whole of it ; for it was no uncommon thing for families to live several months Avith- out a mouthful of bread. It frequently hap- pened that there was no breakfast until it was obtained from the woods. Fur and peltry were the people's money. They had nothing else to give in exchange for rifles, salt, and iron, on the other side of the mountains. " The fall and early part of the winter was the season for hunting deer, and the Avhole of the winter, including part of the spring, for bears and fur-skinned animals. It was a cus- tomary saying that fur is good during every month in the name of which the letter r occurs. '' The class of hunters with whom I was best acquainted, were those whose hunting ranges LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, 255 were on the eastern side of the river, and at the distance of eight or nine miles from it. As soon as the leaves were pretty well down, and the weather became rainy, accompanied with light snows, these men, after acting the part of hus- bandmen, so far as the state of warfare permitted them to do so, soon began to feel that they were hunters. They became uneasy at home. Every- thing about them became disagreeable. The house was too wai*m, the feather-bed too soft, and even the good wife was not thought, for the time being, a proper companion. The mind of the hunter was wholly occupied with the camp and chase. " I have often seen them get up early in the morning at this season, ^valk hastily out, and look anxiously to the woods and snuff the au- tumnal winds with the highest raptiu'e, then re- turn into the house and cast a quick and atten- tive look at the riile which ^vas ahvays sus- pended to a joist by a couple of buck horns, or little forks. His hunting dog, imderstanding the intentions of his master, would wag his tail, and by every blandishment in his power 256 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. express his readiness to accompany him to the woods. " A day was soon appointed for the march of the little cavalcade to the camp. Two or three horses furnished with pack-saddles were loaded with flour, Indian meal, blankets, and every- thing else requisite for the use of the hunter. " A hunting camp, or what was called a half- faced cabin, was of the following f onn ; the back part of it was sometimes a large log ; at the dis- tance of eight or ten feet from this, two stakes were set in the ground a fe^v inches apart, and at the distance of eight or ten feet from these, two more, to receive the ends of the poles for the sides of the camp. The Avhole slope of the roof, was from the front to the back. The covering was made of slabs, skins, or blankets, or, if in the spring of the year, the bark of hickory or ash trees. The front Avas entirely open. The fire was built directly before this opening. The cracks between the logs were filled with moss. Dry leaves served for a bed. It is thus that a couple of men in a few hours will construct for themselves a temporary, but LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 257 tolerably comfortable defense, from the iiiclem- eiicies of tlie weather. The beaver, otter, muskrat and squirrel are scarcely their equals in despatch in fabricating for themselves a covert from the tempest ! ^'A little more pains would have made a hunting camp a defense against the Indians. A cabin ten feet square, bullet proof, and fur- nished with port-holes would have enabled two or three hunters to hold twenty Indians at ba}^ for any length of time. But this precaution I believe was never attended to ; hence the hunters were often surprised and killed in their camps. " The site for the camp was selected with all the sagacity of the ^voodsman, so as to have it sheltered by the surrounding hills from every wind, but more especially from those of the north and west. '' An uncle of mine, of the name of Samuel Teter, occupied the same camp for several years in succession. It Avas situated on one of the southern branches of Cross Creek. Although I lived for many years not more than fifteen miles 17 ^58 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. from the place, it was not till within a veiy few years ago that I discovered its situation. It was shown me by a gentleman living in the neighborhood. Viewing the hills round about it I soon perceived the sagacity of the hunter in the site for his camp. Not a wind could touch him ; and unless by the report of his gun or the sound of his ax, it would have been by mere accident if an Indian had discovered his conceal- ment. " Hunting was not a mere ramble in pursuit of game, in which there was nothing of skill and calculation ; on the contrary, the hunter, before he set out in the morning, was informed, by the state of the weather, in what situation he might reasonably expect to meet with his game; whether on the bottoms, sides or tops of the hills. In stormy weather, the deer always seek the most sheltered places, and the leeward side of the hills. In rainy weather, in which there is not much wind, they keep in the open woods on the highest ground. "In every situation it was requisite for the hunter to ascertain the course of the wind, so as LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 2o9 to get the leeward of the game. This he et fected by putting his finger in his mouth, and holding it there until it became warm, then holding it above his head, the side which first becomes cold shows which way the wdnd blows. " As it was requisite too for the hunter to know the cardinal points, he had only to observe the trees to ascei-tain them. The bark of an aged tree is thicker and much rougher on the north than on the south side. The same thing may be said of the moss : it is much thicker and stronger on the north than on the south side of the trees. " The whole business of the hunter consists of a succession of intrigues. From morning till night he Avas on the alert to gain the wdnd of his game, and approach them without being dis- covered. If he succeeded in killing a deer, he skinned it, and hung it up out of the reach of the wolves, and immediately resumed the chase till the close of the evening, when he bent his course toward the camp ; when he arrived there he kindled up his fire, and together wath his fellow hunter, cooked his supper. The supper 260 i^iPE or DANIEL BOONE. finished, the adventures of the day furnished the tales for the evening. The spike buck, the Uvo and three-pronged buck, the doe and barren doe, figured through their anecdotes with great advantage. It should seem that after hunting awhile on the same ground, the hunters became acquainted ^vith nearly all the gangs of deer within their range, so as to know each flock of them when ttey saw them. Often some old buck, by the means of his superior sagacity and watchfulness, saved his little gang from the hunter's skill, by giving timely notice of his approach. The cunning of the hunter and that of the old buck were staked against each other, and it frequently happened that at the conclusion of the hunting season, the old fellow was left the free uninjured tenant of his forest ; but if his rival succeeded in bringing him do\^^l, the victory was followed by no small amount of boasting on the part of the conqueror. "When the weather was not suitable for hunting, the skins and carcasses of the game were brought in and disposed of. '' Many of the hunters rested from their labors LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 2»)1 on the Sabbath day ; some from a motive of piety ; others said that whenever they hunted on Sunday, they were sure to have bad luck on the rest of the week. "The House- WARMmG. — I will proceed to state the usual manner of settling a young couple in the world. " A spot was selected on a piece of land of one of the parents, for their habitation. A day was appointed shortly after their marriage, for commencing the work of building their cabhi. The fatigue-party consisted of clioppers, whose business it was to fell the trees and cut them oft' at proper length. A man A\dtli a team for haul- ing them to the place and aiTanging them, prop- erly assorted, at the sides and ends of the building ; a carpenter, if such he might be called, whose business it ^vas to search the woods for a proper tree for making clapboards for the roof. The tree for this purpose must be straight- grained, and from three to four feet in diameter. The boards were split four feet long, with a large frow, and as wide as the timber would allow. They ^vere used without planing or / 2C2 LIFE OF DANIEL BOOXE. .sliaviijg. Anotlier division were employed in getting piinclieons for the floor of the cabin ; this Avas done by slitting trees, abont eighteen inches in diameter, and hewing the faces of them with a broad-ax. They were half the length of the floor they were intended to make. The materials for the cabin were mostly prepared on the first day, and sometimes the foundation laid in the evening. The second day m* as allotted for the raising. " In the morning of the next day the neigh- bors collected for the raising. The first thing to be done was the election of four corner men, whose business it was to notch and place the logs. The rest of the company furnished them with the timbers. In the meantime the boards and puncheons were collecting for the floor and roof, so that by the time the cabin was a few rounds high, the sleepers and floor began to be laid. The door was made by sawing or cutting the logs in one side so as to make an opening about three feet wide. This opening was secured by upriglit pieces of timber about three inches thick, through which holes were bore(J LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. S6S into the ends of tlae logs for tte purpose of pinning them fast. A similar opening, but wider, was made at the end for the chimney. This was built of logs, and made large, to admit of a back and jambs of stone. At the square, two end logs projected a foot or eighteen inches beyond the wall, to receive the butting poles, as they were called, against which the ends of the first row of clapboards was supported. The roof was formed by making the end logs shoi-ter, until a single log formed the comb of the roof, on these logs the clapboards were placed, the ranges of them lapping some distance over those next below them, and kept in their places by logs, placed at proper distances upon them. "The roof, and sometimes the floor, were finished on the same day of the raising. A third day was commonly spent by a few car- penters in leveling off the floor, making a clap* board door and a table. This last was made of a split slab, and supported by four round legs set in auger-holes. Some three-legged stools were made in the same manner. Some pins stuck in the logs at the back of the house sup- ^^4 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ported some clapboards Avhicli served for shelres for the table furniture. A single fork, p2aeed with its lower end in a hole in the "floor, and the upper end fastened to a joist, served for a bedstead, by placing a pole in the fork with one end through a crack between the logs of the wall. This front pole ^vas crossed by a shorter one within the fork, with its outer end through anotlier crack. From the front pole, throucrh a crack between the loo-s of the end of o o the house, the boiirds were put on which formed the bottom of the bed. Sometimes other poles were pinned to the foik a little distance above these, for tlie purpose of supporting the front and foot of the bed, while the walls were the supports of its back and head. A few pegs around the walls for a display of the coats of the women and hunting-shirts of the men, and two small forks or buck-horns to a joist for the rifle and shot-pouch, completed the caipenter work. "In the meantime masons Avere at work. With the heaii; pieces of the timber of which tlie clapboards were made^ they made billets for LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 265 cliunklug up the cracks between the logs of the cabin and chinniey ; a large bed of mortar was made for daubing up these cracks ; a few stones formed the back and jambs of the chimney. "The cabin being finished, the ceremony of house-warming took place, before the young couple were permitted to move into it. " The house-warming was a dance of a whole night's continuance, made up of the relations of the bride and groom and their neighbors. On the day following the young couple took possession of their new mansion." CHAPTER XIX. Condition of the early settlers as it respects the mechanic arts — Want of skilled mechanics — Hominy block and hand- mill — Sweeps — Gunpowder — Water mills — Clotliing — Leather — Farm tools — Wooden ware — Sports — Imita ting- birds — Throwing the tomahawk — Athletic sports — Dancing — Shooting at marks — Emigration of the present time com- pared with that of the early settlers — Scarcity of iron — Costume — Dwellings — Furniture — Employments — The women — Their character — Diet — Indian corn — The great improvements in facilitating the early settlement of the West — Amusements. Befoke leaving the subject of the actual con- dition of the early settlers in the West, we take another extract from " Doddridge's Notes," com- prising his observations on the state of the me- chanic arts amonof them and an account of some of their favorite sports. " Mechaotc Arts. — In gi^^ng the history of the state of the mechanic arts as they were ex- ercised at an early period of the settlement of this countiy, I shall present a people, driven by necessity to perform works of mechanical skill, 266 LIFE OF DANIEL BOOXE. 2()7 far beyond wliat a person enjoying all the ad- \antages of civilization would expect from a population placed in such destitute circum- stances. "My reader will naturally ask, where were their mills for grinding grain ? Where their tanners for making leather ? AVhere their smiths' shops for making and repairing theii' farming utensils ? Who were their carpenters, tailors, cabinet-workmen, shoemakers, and weavers? The answer is those manufacturers did not exist ; nor had they any tradesmen, who were professedly such. Every family were under the necessity of doing everything for themselves as well as they could. The hominy block and hand-mills were in use in most of our houses. The first was made of a large block of wood about three feet long, with an excavation burned in one end, wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, so that the action of the pestle on the bottom threw the corn up to the sides toward the top of it, from whence it continually fell down into the center. " In consequence of this movement, the whole 268 Llf'E OF DANIEL BOONE. mass of the grain was pretty equally subjected to the strokes of the pestle. In the fall of the year while the Indian corn was soft, the block and pestle did very well for making meal for johnny-cake and mush; but were rather slow when the corn became hard. " The sweep was sometimes used to lessen the toil of pounding grain into meal. This was a pole of some springy, elastic wood, thii*ty feet long or more ; the butt end was placed under the side of a house, or a large stump ; this pole was supported by two forks, placed about one-third of its length from the butt end, so as to elevate the small end about fifteen feet from the ground ; to this was attached, by a large mortise, a piece of sapling about ^ve or six inches in diameter and eight or ten feet long. The lower end of this was shaj^ed so as to answer for a pestle. A pin of wood was put through it, at a proper height, so that two persons could work at the sweep at once. This simple machine very much lessened the labor and expedited the work. " I remember that when a boy I put up an excellent sweep at my father's. It was made LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^^(^ of a sugar-tree sapling. It was kept going almost constantly from morning till night by our nelgliboi's and friends for several weeks. "In the Greenbi'iar country, where were a num- ber of saltpeter caves, the first settlers made plenty of excellent gunpoAvder by the means of those sweeps and mortars. " A machine, still more simple than the mortar and pestle, was used for making meal while the com was too soft to be beaten. It was called a grater. This was a half-circular piece of tin, perforated with a punch from the concave side, and nailed by its edges to a block of wood. The ears of corn were rubbed on the rough edge of the holes, while the meal fell through them on the board or block, to which the gi'ater was nailed, which, being in a slant- ing direction, dip charged the meal into a cloth or bowl placed for its reception. This, to be sure, was a slow way of making meal ; but necessity has no law. " The hand-mill was better than the mortar and grater. It was made of two circular stones, the lowest of which was called the bed-stone, 270 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, the upper one tie iiinner. These were placed in a hoop, "vvith a spout for discharging the meal. A staff was let into a hole in the upper surface of the runner, near the outer edge and its upper end through a hole in a board fastened to a joist above, so that two persons could be employed in turning the mill at the same time. The grain was put into the opening in the runner by hand. The mills are still in use in Palestine, the ancient country of the Jews. To a mill of this sort our Saviour alluded when, with reference to the destruction of Jerusalem, he said : ' Two women shall be grinding at a mill, the one shall be taken and the other left.' " This mill is much preferable to that used at present in upper Egypt for making the dhourra bread. It is a smooth stone, placed on an in- clined plane, upon which the grain is spread, which is made into meal by rubbing another stone up and down upon it. " Our first water mills were of that description denominated tub-mills. It consists of a per- pendicular shaft, to the lower end of which an horizontal wheel of about four or five feet iu LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 271 diameter is attached, the upper end passes through the bedstone and carries the runner after the manner of a trundlehead. These mills were built with very little expense, and many of them answered the purpose very w^ell. "Instead of bolting cloths, sifters were in general use. These were made of deer skins in the state of parchment, stretched over a hoop and perforated with a hot wire. " Our clothing was all of domestic manufac- ture. We had no other resom-ce for clothing, and this, indeed, was a poor one. The crops of flax often failed, and the sheep were de- stroyed by the wolves. Linsey, which is made of flax and wool, the former the chain and the latter the filling, was the warmest and the most substantial cloth we could make. Almost every house contained a loom, and ahnost every woman was a weaver. "Every family tanned their own leather. The tan vat was a large trough sunk to the upper edge in the ground. A quantity of bark was easily obtained every spring in dealing and fencing land. This, after drying, was 2Y2 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. brought in, and in wet days was shaved and pounded on a block of wood with an ax or mallet. Ashes were used in place of lime for taking off the hair. Bears' oil, hogs' lard, and tallow answered the place of fish oil. The leather, to be sure, was coarse ; but it was sub- stantially good. The operation of currying was performed by a drawing-knife with its edge turned, after the manner of a curiying-knife. The blocking for the leather was made of soot and hog's lard. " Almost every family contained its own tailors and shoemakers. Those who could not make shoes could make shoepacks." These, like moccasins, ^vere made of a single piece on the top of the foot. This was about two inches broad and circular at the lower end. To this the main piece of leather was sewed, with a gathering stitch. The seam behind was like that of a moccasin. To the shoepack a sole was sometimes added. The women did the tailor- work. They could all cut out, and make hunting shirts, leggins, and drawers. " The state of society which exists in every LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 073 country at an early period of its settlements is well calculated to call into action every native mechanical genius. So it happened in this country. There was in almost every neighbor- hood some one whose natural ingenuity enabled him to do many things for himself and his neighbors, far above what could have been rea- sonably expected. With the few tools which they brought with them into the countiy, they certainly performed wonders. Their plows, harrows with their w^ooden teeth, and sleds, were in many instances well made. Their cooper- ware, Avhich comprehended everything for holding milk and water, was generally pretty Avell executed. The cedar- ware, by hav- ing alternately a white and I'ed stave, was then thought beautiful ; many of their puncheon floors were very neat, their joints close, and the top even and smooth. Their looms, although heavy, did veiy well. These who could not exercise these mechanic arts were under the necessity of giving labor or barter to their neighbors, in ex- change for the use of them, so far as their necessities required. 274 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. '' Sports. ™One important pastime of our boyB was that of imitating the noise of every bii'd and beast in the woods. This faculty was not merely a pastime, but a very necessar}^ pail; of education, on account of its utility in ceitain circumstances. The imitations of the gobbling, and other sounds of mid turkeys, often brought those keen-eyed and ever- watchful tenants of the forests within the reach of their rifle. The bleating of the fawn brought its dam to her death in the same way. The hunter often col- lected a company of mopish owls to the trees about his camp, and amused himself with their hoarse screaming ; his howl would raise and ob- tain responses from a pack of Avolves, so as to infoim him of their neighborhood, as Avell as guard him against their depredations. " This imitative faculty was sometimes requi- site as a measure of precaution in w^ar. The In- dians, when scattered about in a neighborhood, often collected together, by imitating tui'keys by day and wolves or owls by night. In similar situations, our people did the same. 1 have often witnessed the consternation of a whole LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 275 settlement, in consequence of a few screeches of owls. An early and correct use of this imitative faculty was considered as an indication that its possessor would become, in due time, a good hunter and valiant wamor. Throwing the tomahawk was another bo}dsh sport, in which many acquired considerable skill. The toma- hawk, ^yith its handle of a certain length, will make a given number of turns in a given distance. Say in five steps, it will strike with the edge, the handle downward ; at the distance of seven and a half, it will strike with the edge, the handle upward, and so on. A little experi- ence enabled the boy to measure the distance with his e} e, when "walking through the woods, and strike a tree with his tomahawk in any way he chose. ''The athletic sports of running, jumping, and wrestling were the pastimes of boys, in common with the men. " A well-grown boy, at the age of twelve or thirteen years, was furnished with a small rifle and shot-pouch. He then became a fort soldier, and had his porthole assigned him. Hunting 2^g LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. squirrels, turkeys, and raccoons soon made him expert in the use of Lis gun. " Dancing was the principal amusement of our young people of both sexes. Their dances, to be sui-e, Nvere of the simplest form. Three and four-handed reels and jigs. Country dances, cotillions, and minuets were unknown. I re- member to have seen, once or twice, a dance which was called " The Irish Trot," but I have long since forgotten its figure. " Shooting at marks was a common diversion amonsc the men, when their stock of ammunition would allow it ; this, however, was far from be- ing always the case. The present mode of shoot- ing off-hand was not then in practise. This mode was not considered as any trial of the value of a gun, nor, indeed, as much of a test of the skill of a marksman. Their shooting was from a rest, and at as great a distance as the length and weight of the baiTel of the gun would throw a ball on a horizontal level. Such was their regard to accuracy, in those sportive trials of their rifles, and of their own skill in the use of them, that they often put moss, or some other LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 277 feoft substance on the log or stump from which they shot, for fear of having the bullet thrown from the mark by the spring of the barrel. When the riile -svas held to the side of a tree for a rest, it was pressed against it as lightly as possible, for the same reason. " Riiles of former times Avere different from those of modern date ; f ew^ of them carried more than forty-five bullets to the pound. Bullets of a less size were not thought sufficiently heavy for himting or war." Our readers wall pardon the length of these extracts from Doddridge, as they convey accu- rate pictures of many scenes of Western life in the times of Daniel Boone. We add to them a single extract from '' Ramsay's Annals of Ten- nessee." The early settlement of that State took place about the same time with that of Kentucky, and was made by emigrants from the same re- gion. The follo^^dng remarks are therefore per- fectly applicable to the pioneers of Kentuck}^ " The settlement of Tennessee was unlike that of tho j)resent new country of the United States. Emigrants from the Atlantic cities, and from 2^8 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, most points In the Western interior, now embark upon steamboats or other craft, and earryiiig vrith them all the conveniences and comforts of civ- ilized life — indeed, many of its luxuries — are, in a few days, without toil, danger, or exposure, transported to their new abodes, and in a fev\^ months are surrounded ^vith the a23pendages of home, of civilization, and the blessings of law and of society. The wdlds of Minnesota and Nebraska by the agency of steam, or the stal- wart arms of Western boatmen, are at once trans- formed into the settlements of a commercial and civilized people. Independence and St. Paul, six months after they are laid off, have their stores and their workshops, their artisans, and their mechanics. The mantua-maker and the tailor arrive in the same boat with the carpenter and ma^on. The professional man and the printer quickly follow. In the succeeding year the piano, the drawing-room, the restaurant, the billiard table, the church bell, the village and the city in miniature, are all found, while the neighboring interior is yet a wilderness and a desert The town and comfort, taste and urban- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 279 ity ai^e fii'st ; the clearing, the farm-house^ the wagon road and the improved country, second. It was far different on the frontier in Ten- nessee. At first a single Indian trail was the only entrance to the eastern border of it, and for many years admitted only of the hunter and the pack-horse. It was not till the year 1776 that a wagon was seen in Tennessee. In con- sequence of the want of roads — as well as ^f the great distance from sources of supply — the first inhabitants w^ere ^vithout tools, and, of course, without mechanics — much more, without the conveniences of living and the comforts of Jiousekeeping. Luxuries were absolutely un- known. Salt ^vas brought on pack-horses from Augusta and Richmond, and readily conamanded ten dollars a bushel. The salt gourd, in every cabin, was considered as a treasure. The sugar- maple furnished the only article of luxury on the frontier ; coffee and tea being unknoAvn, or beyond the reach of the settlers ; sugar was seldom made, and was only used for the sick, or in the preparation of a sweetened dram at a wedding, or the arrival of a newcomer. The 280 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. appendages of the kitdien, tbe cupboard, and the table were scanty and simple. " Iron was brought at great expense, from the forges east of the mountain, on pack horses, and was sold at an enoi-mous price. Its use was, for this reason, confined to the constniction and repair of plows and other farming utensils. Hinges, nails, and fastenings of that material were seldom seen. " The costume of the first settlers corresponded well with the style of their buildings and the quality of their furniture. The hunting-shirt of the militiaman and the hunter was in general use. The rest of their apjDarel was in keeping with it — plain, substantial, and well adapted for comfort, use, and economy. The apparel of the pioneer's family was all home-made, and in a whole neighborhood there would not be seen, at the first settlement of the country, a single article of dress of foreign growth or manufacture. Half the year, in many families, shoes were not worn. Boots, a fur hat, and a coat wdth buttons on each side attracted the gaze of the beholder and sometimes received censure and rebuke. A LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 2sl f^tranger from the old States cliose to doff his niffles, his broadcloth, and his queue, rather thau endure the scoff* and ridicule of the back- woodsmen. " The dwelling-house, on every frontier in Tennessee, was the log-cabin. A carpenter and a mason were not needed to build them — much less the painter, the glazier, or the upholsterer. Every settler had, besides his rifle, no other in- strument but an ax, a hatchet, and a butcher knife. A saw, an auger, a froe, and a broad- ax would supply a whole settlement, and were used as common property in the erection of the log-cabin. The floor of the cabin was some- times the earth. No saw-mill was yet erected ; and, if the means or leisure of the occupant authoiized. it, he split out puncheons for the floor and for the shutter of the entrance to his cabin. The door was hung with wooden hinges and fastened by a wooden latch. " Such was the habitation of the pioneer Ten- nessean. Scarcely can one of these structures, venerable for their years and the associations which cluster around them, be now seen in Ten- 0S2 Lir'E OF DANIEL BOONE. nessee. Time and improvement have displace^l them. Here and there in the older counties, may yet be seen the old log-house, which sixty years ago sheltered the first emigrant, or gave, for the time, protection to a neighborhood as- sembled within its strong and bullet-proof walls. Such an one is the east end of Mr. Martin's house, at Campbell's Station, and the center part of the mansion of this writer, at Mecklenburg, once Gilliam's Station, changed somewhat, it is true, in some of its aspects, but preserving even yet, in the height of the story and in its old- fashioned and capacious fireplace, some of the features of primitive ai^chitecture on the frontier. Such, too, is the present dwelling-house of Mr. Tipton, on Ellejoy, in Blount County, and that of Mr. Glasgow Snoddy, in Sevier County. But these old buildings are becoming exceedingly rare, and soon not one of them will be seen. Their unsightly proportions and rude architec- ture will not much longer offend modern taste, nor provoke the idle and irreverent sneer of the fastidious and the fashionable. When the last one of these pioneer houses shall have fallen into LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 2S3 decay and ruins, the memory of their first occu- pants will still be immortal and indestructible. " The intei'ior of the cabin was no less unpre- tending and simple. The whole furniture, of the one apartment — answering in these j^ri^'Jiitive times the purposes of the kitchen, the dining- room, the nursery and the dormitory — ^were a plain home-made bedstead or two, some split- bottomed chairs and stools ; a large puncheon, supported on four legs, used, as occasion required, for a bench or a table, a water shelf and a bucket ; a spinning-wheel, and sometimes a loom, finished the catalogue. The wardi^obe of the family was equally plain and simple. The walls of the house were hung round with the dresses of the females, the hunting-shirts, clothes, and the arms and shot-pouches of the men. " The labor and employment of a pioneer family were distributed in accordance with sur- rounding circumstances. To the men was as- signed the duty of procuring subsistence and materials for clothing, erecting the cabin and the station, opening and cultivating the farm, hunt- ing the mid beasts, and repelling and pursuing 284 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. the Indians. The women spun the ilax, the cotton and wool, wove the cloth, made them up, milked, churned, and prepared the food, and did their full share of the duties of housekeeping. An- other thus desciibes them : " There we behold woman in her true glory ; not a doll to carry silks and jewels, not a puppet to be dandled by fops, an idol of profane adoration, reverenced to-day, discarded to-morrow ; admired, but not respected ; desired, but not esteemed ; ruling by passion, not affection ; imparting her weak- ness, not her constancy, to the sex she should exalt ; the source and mirror of vanity. We see her as a wife, partaking of the cares, and guid- ing the labors of her husband, and by her domestic diligence spreading cheerfulness all around ; for his sake, sharing the decent refine- ments of the world, without being fond of them ; placing all her joy, all her happiness in the mer- ited approbation of the man she loves. As a mother, we find her the affectionate, the ardent instructress of the children she has i^ared from infancy and trained them up to thought and virtue, to meditation and benevolence ; address- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^85 ing them as rational beings, and preparing tliem to become men and women in tlieir turn. " ^ Could there be happiness or comfort in such dwellings and such a state of society ? To those who are accustomed to modern refine- ments, the truth appears like fable. The early occupants of log-cabins were among the most happy of mankind. Exercise and excitement gave them health ; they were practically equal ; common danger made them mutually depend- ent ; brilliant hopes of future wealth and dis- tinction led them on ; and as there was ample room for all, and as each newcomer increased indi\ddual and general security, there was little room for that envy, jealoiLsy, and hatred which constitute a large portion of human misery in older societies. Never were the stoiy, the joke, the song, and the laugh better enjoyed than upon the hewed blocks, or puncheon stools, around the roaring log fire of the eaily Western settler. The lyre of Apollo was not hailed with more delight in primitive Greece than the advent of the first fiddler among the d\velleri of the wilderness ; and the polished daughters 2S6 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. of the East never enjoyed themselves half so well, moving to the music of a full band, upon the elastic floor of their ornamented ball- room, as did the daughters of the emigrants, keeping time to a self-taught fiddler, on the bare earth or puncheon floor of the primitive log cabin. The smile of the polished beauty is the wave of the lake, ^vhere the breeze plays gently os^er it, and her movement is the gentle stream which drains it ; but the laugh of the log-cabin is the gush of nature's fountain, and its movement, its leaping water.' *'^ "On the fi'ontier the diet was necessarily plain and homely, but exceedingly abimdant and nutritive. The Goshen of America f fur- nished the richest milk, the finest butter, and the most savory and delicious meats. In their rude cabins, with tlieir scanty and inartificial furni- ture, no people ever enjoyed in wholesome food a greater variety, or a superior quality of the necessaries of life. For bread, the Indian corn was exclusively used. It was not till 1790 that the settlers on the rich bottoms of Cumberland * Kendall. f Butler. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. ^SIT and Nollicliucky discovered the remarkable ad- aptation of the soil and climate of Tennessee to the production of this grain. Emigrants from James River, the Catawba, and the Santee were surprised at the amount and quality of the com crops, surpassing greatly the best results of agri- cultural labor and care in the Atlantic States. This superiority still exists, and Tennessee, by the census of 1850, was the corn State. Of all the farinacea, corn is best adapted to the condition of a pioneer people ; and if idolatry is at all justifiable, Ceres, or certainly the Goddess of Indian corn, should have had a temple and worshipers among the pioneers of Tennessee. Without that grain, the frontier settlements could not have been foimed and maintained. It is the most certain crop — requires the least preparation of the ground — is most congenial to a virgin soil — needs not only the least amount of labor in its culture, but comes to maturity in the shortest time. The pith of the matured stalk of the corn is esculent and nutritious ; and the stalk itself, compressed between rollers, furnishes what is known as corn-stalk molasses. ^^ LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. " This grain requiresj also, the leaat care and trouble in presenang it. It may safely stand all winter upon the stalk without injury from the weather or apprehension of damage by dis- ease, or the accidents to which other grains are subject. Neither smut nor rust, nor weavil nor snow-storm, will hurt it. After its maturity, it is also prepai'ed for use or the granary with little labor. The husking is a short process, and is even advantageously delayed till the moment aiTives for using the corn. The machinery for converting it into food is also exceedingly sim- ple and cheap. As soon as the ear is fully formed, it may be roasted or boiled, and forms thus an excellent and nourishing diet. At a later period it may be grated, and furnishes, in this form, the sweetest bread. The grains boiled in a variety of modes, either whole or broken in a mortar, or roasted in the ashes, or popped in an oven, are well relished. If the grain is to be converted into meal, a simple tub-mill an- swers the purpose best, as the meal least perfectly ground is always preferred. A bolting-cloth is not needed, as it diminishes the sweetness and LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 289 value of tlie flour. The catalogue of tlie advan- tages of this meal might be extended further. Boiled in water, it f onus the frontier dish called mmh^ which was eaten with milk, with honey, molasses, butter or gravy. Mixed with cold water, it is at once ready for the cook ; covered wdth hot ashes, the preparation is called the ash cake ; placed upon apiece of clapboard, and set near the coals, it fonns the journey-cake ; or managed in the same way, upon a helveless hoe, it forms the hoe-cake ; put in an o^^en, and covered over with a heated lid, it is called, if in a large mass, a pone or loaf ; if in smaller quan- titles, dodgei-s. It has the further advantage, over all other flour, that it requires in its prep- ai-ation few culinary utensils, and neither sugar, yeast, eggs, spices, soda, potash, or other et eet- eras^ to qualify or perfect the bread. To all this it may be added, that it is not only cheap and well tasted, but it is unquestionably ih^ most wholesome and nutriti\'e food. The largest and healthiest people in tlie world have lived upon it exclusively. It formed the principal bread of that robust race of men — giants iu 19 290 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. miniature — wliicli, lialf a century since, was seen on the frontier. ^ The dignity of history is not lowered by this enumeration of the pre-eminent qualities of Indian corn. The rifle and the ax have had their influence m subduing the wilderness to the purposes of civilization, and they deserve their eulogists and trumpeters. Let paeans be sung all over the mighty AVest to Indian com — \\'ith- out it, the West would have still been a mlder- ness. Was the frontier suddenly invaded ? AVithout commissary or quartermaster, or other sources of supply, each soldier parched a peck of corn ; a portion of it was put into his pockets, the remainder In his wallet, and, thromng it upon his saddle, with his rifle on his shoulder, he was ready, in half an hour, for the campaign. Did a flood of emigration inundate the frontier with an amount of consumers disproportioned to the supply of grain ? The facility of raising the Indian corn, and its early maturity, gave promise and guaranty that the scarcity would be temporary and tolerable. Did the safety of the frontier demand the ser\aces of every adult LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 291 militiaman ? Tlie boys and women coulcl, them- selves, raise corn and furnisli ample supplies of bread. The crop could be gathered next year. Did an autumnal intermittent confine the whole family or the entire population to the sick-bed ? This certain concomitant of the clearing, and cultivating the new soil, mercifully ^^dthholds its paroxysms till the crop of corn is made. It requires no further labor or care afterward. Paeans, say we, and a temple and worshipers, to the Creator of Indian corn ! The frontier man could gratefully say : ' He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. Thou preparest a tahle before me in presence of mine enemies^ " The sports of the frontier men were mainly athletic, or warlike — ^the chase, the bear hunt, the deer drive, shooting at the target, throwing the tomahaw^k, jumping, boxing and wrestling, foot and horse-racing. Playing marbles and pitching dollars, cards and backgammon were little known, and were considered base or effem- inate. The bugle, the violin, the fife and drum, furnished all the musical entertainments. These 992 LI^ OF DANIEL BOONE. were much used and passionately adinire'as at war, restless spirits among the others were found to take part with them, and the whites, on the other hand, were not particular to dis- tinguish between hostile and friendly Indians. Though the depredations continued this year, LIFE OF DANIEL BOOKE. S2') no affair of unusual interest occurred; small parties of the Indians infested the settlements, murdeiing and plundering the inhabitants. They were generally pursued, but mostly with- out success. Major McMillan was attacked by sLx or seven Indians, but escaped unhurt after killing two of his assailants. A boat upon the Ohio was fired upon, ^ve men killed, and a woman made prisoner. In their attacks upon boats, the Indians employed the stratagem of which the whites had been warned by Girty. White men would appear upon the shore, begging the crew to rescue them from the Indians, who were pursuing them. Some of these were renegades, and others prisoners compelled to act this part, under threats of death in its most dreadful form if they refused. The warning of Girty is supposed to have saved many persons from this artifice ; but too often unable to resist the many appeals, emi- grants became victims to the finest feelings of our nature. Thus in March, 1790, a boat descending the 326 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. river was decoyed ashore, and no sooner had it rf'^ched the bank than it was captured by fifty Indians, who killed a man and a woman, and made the rest prisoners. An expedition was made against the Indians on the Sciota by Gen^ eral Harmer, of the United States army, and General Scott, of the Kentucky militia, but nothing of consequence was achieved. In May a number of people returning from Divine serv- ice, on Bear Grass Creek, were attacked, and one man killed, and a woman made prisoner, who was afterward tomahawked. Three days after, a boat containing six men and several families was captured by sixteen Indians mthout loss. The whites were all carried off by the Indians, vrlio intended, it is said, to make them slaves ; one of the men escaped and brought the news to the settlements. In the fall Harmer made a second expedition w^hich was attended mth great disasters. Sev- eral marauding attacks of the Indians ensued ; nor was peace finally restored until after the treaty of Greenville, which followed the subjuga^ tion of the Indians by General Wayne in 1794, CHAPTER XXI. Colonel Boone meets with the loss of all his land in Kentucky, and emigrates to Virginia — Resides on the Kanawha, near Point Pleasant — Hears of the fertility of Missouri, and the abundance of game there — Emigrates to Missouri— Is ap- pointed commandant of a district under the Spanish Govern- ment — Mr. Audubon's narrative of a nigiit passed with Boone, and the narratives made by him during the night Extraordinary power of his memory. A PERIOD of severe adversity for Colonel Boone now ensued. His aversion to legal tech- nicalities and his ignorance of legal forms were partly the cause of defects in the titles to the lands which he had long ago acquired, improved, and nobly defended. But the whole system of land titles in Kentucky at that early period was so utterly defective, that hundreds of others who were better informed and more careful than the old pioneer, lost their lands by litigation and the arts and rogueries of land speculators, who made it their business to hunt up defects in land titles. 3^7 328 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. The Colonel lost all his land — even his >eaiiti- fill farm near Boonesboroiigh, which oaght to have been held sacred by any men possessed of a particle of patriotism or honest feeling, was taken from liim. He consequently left Ken- tucky and settled on the Kanawha River in Virginia, not far from Point Pleasant. This re- moval appears to have taken place in the year 1790. He remained in this place several years, cultivating a farm, raising stock, and at the proper seasons indulging in his favorite sport of hunting. Some hunters ^vho had been pursuing their sport on the western shores of the Missouri River gave Colonel Boone a very vivid descrip- tion of that country, expatiating on the fertility of the land, the abundance of game, and the great herds of buffalo ranging over the vast ex- panse of the prairies. They also described the simple manners of the people, the absence of lawyers and lawsuits, and the iVrcadian happi- ness ^A'hich was enjoyed by all in the distant region, in such glowing terms that Boone re-, solved to emigrate and settle there, leaving his LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. §29 fourtli son Jesse in the Kanawha valley, where he had man-ied and settled, and ^vho did not follow him till several }'ears after.*"' Mr. Peck fixes the period of this emigration in 1795, Pei'kins, in his " Western Annals," places it in 1797. His authority is an article of Thomas J. Hinde in the " American Pioneer," who says : " I was neighbor to Daniel Boone, the first Vv'hite man that fortified against the Indians in Kentucky. In October, 1797, I sa^v him on pack-horses take up his journey for Missouri, then Upper Louisiana." Mr. Peck says if ''At that period, and for several years after, the country of his retreat be- longed to the Cro^vn of Spain. His fame had reached this remote region before him ; and he received of the Lieutenant-Governor, who re- sided at St. Louis, " assurance that ample por- tions of land should be aiven to him and his family." His first residence was in the Femme Osage settlement, in the District of St. Charles, about foi*ty-five miles west of St. Louis. Here he remained with his son Daniel M. Boone until * Peck, t Life of Boone. 330 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 1804, when he removed to the residence of his youngest son, Nathan Boone, with whom he continued till about 1810, when he went to re- side wath his son-in-law, Flandei^s Callaway. A commission from Don Chai'les D. Delassus, Lieutenant-Governor, dated July 11th, 1800, appointing him commandant of the Femme Osage District, was tendered and accepted. He retained this command, which included both civil and military duties, and he continued to discharge them with credit to himself, and to the satisfaction of all concerned, until the trans- fer of the government to the United States. The simple manners of the frontier people of Missouri exactly suited the peculiar habits and temper of Colonel Boone." It was during his residence in Missouri that Colonel Boone was visited by the great natu- ralist, J. J. Audubon, who passed a night mth him. In his Ornithological Biography, Mr. Audubon gives the following narrative of what passed on that occasion : " Daniel Boone, or, as he was usually called in the Western country, Colonel Boone, happened LIFE OF DAXiEL BOONE. 331 to spend a Dight with me under the same roof, more than twenty yeai^ ago * We had returned from a shooting excursion, in the course of Avhich his extraordinary skill in the management of the rifle had been fully displayed. On retiring to the room appropriated to that remarkable in- di\4dual and myself for the night, I felt anxious to know more of his exploits and adventures than I did, and accordingly took the liberty of proposing numerous questions to him. The stature and general appearance of this -wanderer of the Western forests approached the gigantic. His chest w^as broad and prominent ; his mus- cular powers displayed themselves in every limb ; his countenance gave indication of his great courage, enterprise, and perseverance ; and when he spoke, the very motion of his lips brought the impression that whatever he uttered could not be otherwise than strictly true. I undressed, whilst he merely took off his himt- ing-shirt, and arranged a few folds of blankets on the floor, choosing rather to lie there, as he observed, than on the softest bed. When we * This would be about the year ISiO» B32 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. had both disposed of oui-selves, each aftei' his own fashion, he related to me the following ac- count of his powers of memoiy, which I lay be- fore you, kind reader, in his own words, hoping that the simplicity of his style may prove inter- esting to you. " ' I was once,' said he, ' on a hunting ex- pedition on the banks of the Green River, vrhen the lower parts of this State (Kentucky) were still in the hands of nature, and none but the sons of the soil were looked upon as its la¥.dPul proprietors. We Virginians had for some time been waging a war of intrusion upon them, and I, amongst the rest, rambled through the woods in pursuit of their race, as I now would follow the tracks of any ravenous animal. The Indians outwitted me one dark night, and I was as unex- 23ectedly as suddenly made a prisoner by them. The trick had been managed with great skill ; for no sooner had I extinguished the iii'e of my camp, and laid me down to rest, in full security, as I thought, than I felt mj^self seized by an in- distinguishable number of hands, and was im- mediately pinioned, as if about to be led to the LIFE OF DAXIKL BOOXE. ^33 scaffold lor exeoiitiou. To liave attempted to be refractory would have proved useless and dangerous to m\' lii'e ; and I suffered myself to be removed from my camp to theii's, a few miles distant, ^vitllOut uttering even a word of com- plaint. You are aware, I dai-e say, that to act in this manner was the Ijest policy, as you understand that by so doing I j)roved to the Indians at once that I was bom and bred as fearless of death as any of themselves. " ' When we reached the camp, great rejoic* ings were exhibited. Two squaws and a few papooses appeared particularly delighted at the sight of me, and I was assured, by very imequi- vocal gestures and words, that, on the morrow, the mortal enemy of the Red-skins would cease to live. I never opened my lips but was busy contri\Hlng some scheme which might enable me to give the rascals the slip before dawn. The women immediately fell a-searching about my hunting-shirt for whatever they might think val- uable and, fortunately for me, soon found my flask filled with MonongaMa (that is, reader, gtrong whisky). A terrific grin was exhibited 33i LIFE OF DANIEL BOONt:. on theii* murderous countenances, while mv heart throbbed with joy at the anticipation of their intoxication. The crew immediately began to beat their bellies and sing, as they passed the bottle from mouth to mouth. How often did I wish the flask ten times its size, and filled with aquafortis ! I observed that the squaws drank more freely than the warriors, and again my spirits were about to be depressed, when the re- poii; of a gun was heard at a distance. The In- dians all jumped on their feet. The singing and drinking were both brought to a stand, and I saw, with inexpressible joy, the men walk off to some distance and talk to the squaws. I knew that they were consulting about me, and I foresaw that in a few moments the warriors would go to discover the cause of the gun hav- ing been fired so near their camp. I expected that the squaws would be left to guard me. Well, sir, it was just so. They returned ; the men took up their guns, and walked away. The squaws sat down again, and in less than iave minutes had my bottle up to their dirty mouths, LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 33o gui-gling down their throats the remains of the whisky. " ' With what pleasure did I see them becom- ing more and more drunk, until the liquor took such hold of them that it was quite impossible for these women to be of any service. They tiunbled down, rolled about, and began to snore ; when I, having no other chance of freeing my- self from the cords that fastened me, rolled over and over toward the foe, and, after a short time, burned them asunder. I rose on my feet, stretch- ed my stiffened sinews, snatched up my rifle, and for once in my life spared that of Indians. I now recollect how desirous I once or twice felt to lay open the skulls of the wretches wath my tomahawk ; but when I again thought upon killing beings unprepared and unable to defend themselves, it looked like murder without need, and I gave up the idea. " ' But, su', I felt determined to mark the spot, and walking to a thrifty ash sapling I cut out of it three large chips, and ran off. I soon reached the river, soon crossed it, and threw myself deep into the canebrakes, imitating the 336 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. tracks of an Indian with my feet so tliat no chance might be left for those from whom I had escaped to overtake me. " ' It is now nearly twenty years since this happened, and more than five since I left the whites' settlements, which I might probably never have visited again had I not been called on as a witness in a lawsuit that was pending in Kentucky, and which I really believe would never have been settled had I not come forward and established the beginning of a cei-tain bound- ary line. This is the story, sir : " ^ Mr. moved from Old Virginia into Ken- tucky, and ha^dng a large tract granted to him in the new State, laid claim to a certain parcel of land adjoining Green Kiver, and, as chance would have it, took for one of his corners the very ash tree on which I had made my mark, and finished his survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as it is expressed in the deed, " at an ash marked by three distinct notches of the tomahawk of a white man." " * The tree had gi*own much, and the bark had covered the marks ; but, somehow or other, Mr. LIFE OF DANIEL BOUNL. 337 heard from some one all that I have already said to you, aud thinking that I might remember the spot alluded to in the deed, but which was no longer discoverable, ^vrote for me to come and tiy at least to find the place or the tree. His letter mentioned that all my expenses should be paid, and not caring much about once more going back to Kentucky I started and met Mr. . After some conversation, the affair Avith the In- dians came to my recollection. I considered for a while, and began to think that after all I could find the very spot, as well as the tree, if it was yet standing. u 4 ]^j. and I mounted our hoi*ses, and off we went to the Green River Bottoms. After some difficulties— for you must be aware, sir, that great changes have taken place in those ^voods— I found at last the spot where I had crossed the river, and, waiting for the moon to rise, made for the course in which I thought the ash tree grew. On approaching the place, I felt as if the Indians were there still, and as if I was still a prisoner among them. Mr. and »t 338 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. I camped near what I conceived the spot, and waited mitil the return of day. " ' At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and, after a good deal of musing, thought that an ash tree then in sight must be the very one on which I had made my mark I felt as if there could be no doubt of it, and mentioned my thought to Mr. . " Well, Colonel Boone," said he, " if you think so, I hope it may prove true, but we must have some witnesses ; do you stay here about and I will go and bring some of the settlers whom I know." I agreed. Mr. trotted off, and I, to pass the time, rambled about to see if a deer w^as still living in the land. But ah ! sir, what a wonderful difference thiii;y years make in the country ! Why, at the time when I was caught by the Indians, you would not have walked out in any direction for more than a mile mthout shooting a buck or a bear. There were then thousands of buffaloes on the hills in Kentucky ; the land looked as if it never would become poor ; and to hunt in those days was a pleasure indeed. But when I was left to \nyself on the banks of Green Kiver, I dare say LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 839 for the last time in my life, a few signa only of deer were to be seen, and, as to a deer itself, I saw none. a c jyjj.. returned, accompanied by three gentlemen. They looked upon me as if I had been Washington himself, and walked to the ash tree, which I now called my owti, as if in quest of a long-lost treasure. I took an ax from one of them, and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no signs were to be seen. So I cut again until I thought it was time to be cautious, and I scraped and worked away with my butcher- knife until I did come to where my tomahawk had left an impression in the wood. We now went regularly to work, and scraped at the tree mth care until three hacks, as plain as any three notches ever were, could be seen. Mr. and tlie other gentlemen were astonished, and I must allow I ^vas as much surprised as pleased myself. I made affidavit of this remarkable occun-ence in presence of these gentlemen. Mr. gained his cause. I left Green River forever, and came to where we now are and, sir, I wish you a good- night; " CHAPTER XXII. Colonel Boone receives a large grant of land from the Spanish Government of Upper Louisiana— He subsequently loses it by neglecting to secure the formal title — His lawsuits in his new home— Character of the people—Sketch of tke his- tory of Missouri— Colonel Boone's hunting— He pays his debts by the sale of furs— Hunting excursions continued— In danger from the Indians— Taken sick in liis hunting camp— His relatives settled in his neighborhood— Colonel Boone applies to Congress to recover his land— The Legis- lature of Kentucky supports his claim— Death of Mrs. Boone— Results of the application to Congress— He receives one-eleventh part of his just claim— He ceases to hunt- Occupations of his declining years— Mr. Harding paints his portrait. In consideration of his official services as Syndic, ten thousand ai^Dents* of excellent land were given to Colonel Boone by tlie Govern- ment. Under the special law, in order to make his title good, he should have obtained a con- firmation of his grant from the immediate rep- resentative of the Crown, then residing in New * An arpent of land is eightv-five hundredtlis of an acre. 34:0 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 3lt Orleans. But his friend, the Commandant at St. Louis, undertook to dispense with his res- idence on the land which Avas another condition to a sound title, and Boone probably supposed that '* all would be right " Avithout attending to any of the formalities, and neglected to take the necessary steps for holding his land securely. It is probable that he foresaw that Missouri would soon become a part of the United States, and expected justice from that quarter. But in this he Avas disappointed, for when that event took place, the commissioners of the United States appointed to decide on confirmed claims felt constrained by their instructions and rejected Colonel Boone's claims for want of legal for- malities. Thus was the noble pioneer a second time de- prived of the recompense of his inestimable serv- ices by his inattention to the precaution neces- sary for securing his rights. This second mis- fortune came upon him some time after the period of which we are now writing. Meantime Colonel Boone found his residence in Missouri agreeable, and in every respect con- 342 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, genial to his habits and tastes. His duties as Syndic were light ; and he was allowed ample time for the cultivation of his land, and for oc- casional toiu's of hunting, in which he so greatly- delighted. Trapping beaver was another of his favorite pursuits, and in this new country he found abundance of this as well as other species of game. A greater part of the people of Missouri were emigrants from the United States, pioneers of the West, who had already resisted Indian ag- gressions, and were welcome by the French and Spanish settlers as a clear accession to their military strength. A brief notice of the history of this State, showing how the different kinds of population came there, will be not inappropriate in this place. Though the French were the first settlers, and for a long time the principal inhabitants of Missouri, yet a very small portion of her present population is of that descent A fort was built by that people as early as 1719, near the site of the present capital, called Fort Orleans, and its LIFE OF DANIEL BUUNE. 3:^3 lead mines worked to some extent tlie next year. St. Genevieve, the oldest town in the State, was settled in 1755, and St. Louis in 1764. At the treaty of 1763 it was assigned, with all the ter- ritory west of the Mississippi, to Spain. " In 1780, St. Louis was besieged and attacked by a body of British troops and Indians, fifteen hundred and foi-ty strong." During the siege, sixty of the French were killed. The siege was raised by Colonel George Rogers Clark, who came with five hundred men to the relief of the place. At the close of the American Ee volution, the teiiitory west of the Mississippi remained with Spain till it was ceded to France, in 1801. In 1803, at the purchase of Louisiana, it came into the possession of the United States, and f onned part of the territory of Louisiana until the formation of the State of that name * ).812, when the remainder of the territory was named Missouri, from which (after a stormy debate in Congress as to the admission of slaver}-) was separated the present State of ilissouri in 1721/ ♦ Lippinoott'B Gazett««r. 344 I-IFE OF DANIEL BOONE. The office of Syndic, to whicli Colonel Boone liad l^een appointed, is similar to that of justice of the peace under our own government : but it is more extensive, as combining military with civil powers. Its exercise in Colonel Boone's district did not by any means occupy the whole of his time and attention. On the contrary, he found sufficient time for hunting in the winter months — the regular hunting season. At first he was not very successful in obtaining valuable furs, but after two or three seasons he was able to secure a sufficient quantity to enable him, by the proceeds of their sale, to discharge some out- standing debts in Kentucky; and he made a journey thither for that purpose. When he had seen each creditor, and paid him all he de- manded, he returned home to Missouri, and on his ai* il he had but half a dollar remaining. "To his family," says Mr. Peck, " and a circle of friends who had called to see him, he said, 'Now I am ready and w^illing to die. I am relieved from a burden that has long oppressed me. I have paid all my debts, and no one will sajj when I am gone, "Boone waa LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 345 a dishonest mau." I am perfectly wiUing to die."* Boone still continued his hunting excursions, attended sometimes by some friend : but most frequently by a black servant boy. On one of these occasions these two had to resist an attack of Osage Indians, whom they speedily put to flight. At another time, when he was entirely alone, a large encampment of Indians made its appearance in his neighborhood ; and he was compelled to secrete hhnself for twenty days in his camp cooking his food only in the middle of the night, so that the smoke of his fire would not be seen. At the end of this long period of inaction the Indians went oif. At another time, while in his hunting camp, with only a negro boy for his attendant, he fell sick and lay a long time unable to go out. When sufficiently recovered to walk out, he pointed out to the ])oy a place where he w ished to be buried if he should die in camp, and also gave * The ownei-s of tlie money of which he was robbed on his journey to Virginia, as ah-eady related, had vohintarily relin- quished all claims on him. This was a simple act of justice. 346 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. the boy very exact directions about his buiiaJ, and the disposal of his rifle, blankets and peltry* Among the relations of Colonel Boone, who were settled in his neighborhood, were Daniel Morgan Boone, his eldest son then living, w^ho had gone out before his father ; Nattra, with his wife, who had followed in 1800 ; and Flanders Callaway, his son-in-law, who had come out about the tune that Missouri, then Upper Louisiana, became a part of the United States territory^f We have abeady stated that the land granted to Colonel Boone, in consideration of his per- forming the duties of Syndic, was lost by his omission to comply with the legal formalities necessary to secure his title. In addition to the ten thousand arpents of land thus lost, he had been entitled as a citizen to one thousand arpents of land according to the usage in other cases ; but he appears not to have complied with the condition of actual resi- dence on this land, and it was lost in conse- quence. * Peck. t IWd. LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 347 In 1812, Colonel Boone sent a petition to Congre8S praying for a confinnation of his orig- inal claims. In order to give greater Vv'eiglit to his application, he presented a memorial to the General Assembly of Kentucky, on the thir- teenth of January, 1812, soliciting the aid of that body in obtaining from Congress the con- firmation of his claims. The Legislature, by a unanimous vote, passed the following preamble and resolutions : "The Legislature of Kentucky, taking into view the many eminent services rendered by Col. Boone, in exploring and settling the western country, from which great advantages have re- sulted, not only to this State, but to his country in general ; and that from circumstances over which he had no control, he is now reduced to poverty, not ha\ang, so far as appears, an acre of land out of the vast territory he has been a great instrument in peopling ; believing, also, that it is as unjust as it is impolitic, that useful enterprise and eminent services should go unre- warded by a government where merit confers the onl}' distinction; and having sufficient 3i8 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. reason to believe that a grant of ten thoHsand acres of land, wliicli he claims in Upper Louis- iana, would have been confirmed by the Spauish government, had not said territory passed, by cession, into the hands of the general govern- ment: wherefore, " Resolved, by the General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Kentucky, — That our Sena- tors in Congress be i-equested to make use of their exertions to procure a grant of land in said territory to said Boone, either the ten thousand acres to which he appears to have an equitable claim, from the grounds set forth to this Legislature, by ^vay of confirmation, or to such quantity in such place as shall be deemed most ad\dsable, by way of donation.*" Notwithstanding this action of the Legislature of Kentucky, Colonel Boone's appeal, like many other just and reasonable claims presented to Congress, was neglected for sometime. During this period of anxious suspense, Mrs. Boone, the faithful and affectionate wife of the venerable pioneer, who had shared his toils and anxieties, and cheei'ed his home for so many year^^*, ^vas LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 349 taten from his side. She died in March, 1818, at the age of seventy-six. The venerable pioneer was now to miss her cheerful compan- ionship for the remainder of his life ; and to a man of his affectionate disposition this must have been a severe privation. Colonel Boone's memorial to Congress re- ceived the earnest and active support of Judge Cobum, Joseph Vance, Judge Burnett, and other distinguished men belonging to the West- ern country. But it was not till the 24th of December, 1813, that the Committee on Public Lands made a report on the subject. The report certainly is a very inconsistent one, as it fully admits the justice of his claim to eleven thousand arpents of land, and recom- mends Congress to give him the miserable pit- tance of one thousand arpents, to ^vhich he ^vas entitled in common with all the other emigrants to Upper Louisiana! The act for the confir- mation of the title passed on the 10th of Feb- ruar}^, 1814. For ten years before his decease. Colonel Boone gave up his favorite pursuit of hunting. 350 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. The infirmities of age rendered it imprudent for him to venture alone in the woods. The closing years of Colonel Boone's life were passed in a manner entirely characteristic of the man. He appears to have considered love to mankind, reverence to the Supreme Being, de- light in his works and constant usefulness, as the legitimate ends of life. After the decease of Mrs. Boone, he divided his time among the different members of his family, making his home with his eldest daughter, Mrs. Callaway, visiting his other children, and especially his youngest son, Major Nathan Boone, for longer or shorter periods, according to his inclination and convenience. He was greatly beloved by all his descendants, some of whom were of the fifth generation ; and he took great delight in their society. *'Hi8 time at home," says Mr. Peck, "was usually occupied in some useful manner. He made powder-horns for his gi^andchildren, neighbors, and friends, many of which were carved and ornamented with much taste. He repaired lifles, and performed various descrip- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 351 tions of handicraft with neatness and finish. Making powder-horns — repairing rifles — em- ployments in pleasing unison with old pursuits, and by the associations thus raised in his mind, always recalling the pleasui'es of the chase, the stilly whispering hum of the pines, the frag- rance of wild flowers, and the deep solitude of the primeval forest." In the summer of 1820, Chester Harding, who of American artists is one of the most celebrated for the accuracy of his likenesses, paid a visit to Colonel Boone for the purpose of taking his portrait. The Colonel was quite feeble, and had to be supported by a friend, the Rev. J. E. Welsh, while sitting to the artist.^ This portrait is the original from which most of the engravings of Boone have been executed. It represents him in his hunting- dress, with his large hunting-knife in his belt. The face is very thin and pale, and the hair per- fectly white, the eyes of a bright blue color, and the expression of the countenance mild and pleasing. •*Peck. Life of Boone. :^ CHAPTER XXIII. Last illness, and death of Colonel Boone — His funeral — Account of his family — His remains and those of his wife removed from Missouri, and reinterred in the new cemetery in Frankfort, Kentucky— Character of Colonel Boone. In September, 1820, Colonel Boone liad an attack of fever, from wliicli he recovered so as to make a \asit to the house of his son, Major Nathan Boone. Soon after, from an indiscre- tion in his diet, he had a relapse ; and after a confinement to the house of only three days, he expired on the 26th of September, in the eighty- sixth year of his age. He was buried in a coffin which he had kept ready for several years. His remains were laid by the side of those of his deceased wife. The great respect and reverence entertained toward him, attracted a large concourse from the neigh- boring country to the funeral. The Legislature of Missouri, then in session, passed a resolution 352 LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 3:>a that the membei"s should wear the badge of mourning usual in such cases for twenty days ; and an adjournment for one day took place. Colonel Boone had five sons and four daugh- ters. The two oldest sons, as already related, were killed by the Indians. His third, Colonel Daniel Morgan Boone, resided in Missouri, and died about 1842, past the age of eighty. Jesse Boone, the fourth son, settled in Missouii about 1805, and died at St. Louis a few years after. Major Nathan Boone, the youngest child, resided for many years in Missouri, and received a com- inission in the United States Dragoons. He was still living at a recent date. Daniel Boone's daughters, Jemima, Susannah, Rebecca, and Lavinia, were all married, lived and died in Ken- tucky. In 1845 the citizens of Frankfort, Kentucky, having prepared a rural cemetery, resolved to consecrate it by interring in it the remains of Daniel Boone and his wife. The consent of the family being obtained the reintennent took place on the 20th of August of that year. The pageant was splendid and deeply interest- ed f;:;4- LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. Dig. A few survivoi^ of Boone's contemporaries were present, gathered from all parts of the State, and a numerous train of his descendants and relatives led the van of the procession es- corting the hearse, which was decorated with forest evergreens and white lilies, an appropriate tribute to the simple as well as glorious char- acter of Boone, and suitable emblem of his en- during fame. The address was delivered by Mr. Crittenden, and the concourse of citizens from Kentucky and the neighboring States was im- mense. The reader of the foregoing pages will have no difficulty in forming a correct estimate of Boone's character. He was one of the purest and noblest of the pioneers of the West. Re- garding himself as an instrument in the hands of Providence for accomplishing great purposes, he was nevertheless always modest and unas- suming, never seeking distinction, but always accepting the post of duty and danger. As a military leader he was remarkable for prudence, coolness, bravery, and imperturbable self-possession. His knowledge of the character LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE. 355 of the Indians enabled him to divine their in- t-entions and baffle their best laid plans ; and notwithstanding his resistance of their inroads, he was always a great favorite amongst them. As a father, husband, and oitizen his character seems to have been faultless ; and his intercourse with his fellow-men was always marked by the strictest integrity and honor. ->^ /\. L. Buii;*s CacaKogue of Books ft Young People by Popular Writers, 52 » 58 Duane Street, New York "« n^ ^ BOOKS FOR BOYS. Joe's Luckr A Boy's Adventures in California. Bjij Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price SlOO. The Blory Is chock full of stirrinc: incidents, while the amusine situ* ations are furnished by Joshua Bickford, from Pumpkin toUow, and th* fellow who modestly styles himself the '•liiu-tail Roarer, from Pike Co., Missouri." Mr. Al;rer never writes a poor book, and "Joe's Luck" is cer- tainly one of his best. Tom the Bootblack; or. The Road to Success. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. A bright, enterprising lad was Tom the Bootblack. He was not at all ashamed of his humble callln?, though always on the lookout to better himself. The lad started for Cinciunati to look up his heritage. Mr, Grey, tbi uuck, did not hesitate to employ a rutlian to kill the lad. The plan failed, and Gilbert Grey, once Tom the bootblack, came into a com- fortable fortune. This is one of Mr. Alger's best stories. Dan the Newsboy. By Horatio Alger^ Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. 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A very entertaining book. The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success. By Horatio A-gkr, Jr. 13mo, cloth illustrated, price Sl.W. The career of "The Errand Boy" embraces tbe city adventurffi of .i tmart country lad. Philip was brought up by a kind-hearted innkeeper named Brent. The death of Mrs. Brent f)aved the way for the hero'3 subsequent troubles. A retired merchant in New York secures him the situation of errand boy, and thereafter stands as his friend. Tom Temple's Career. By Horatio .A lger, Jr. 13 mo, cloth, illustrated, price 51-00. Tom Temple is a bright, self-reliant lad. He leaves Plympton village to seek work in New York, whence he undertakes an Important mission to California. Some of his adventures in the far west are so startling th?it the reader will scarcely close the book uutil the last page shall have beeu reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style. For sale by r.ll booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt ** orlcft bj Uhi r)n>..UHh*r. A. L. BUET. W-68 Ou«Q« gtrMk Hew Y(a»- ^ • 2 A. L, BUItrs BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. BOOKS FOR BOYS. "" ' Frank Fov/ler, the Cash Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. Frank Fowler, a poor boy, bravely dotermines to make a living for hiiriselr' and his foster-sister Grace. Goius to New York be obtains 8 situation as cash boy la a dry goods store. He renders a service to a wealthy old gentleman who takes a fancy to the lad, and thereafter helps the lad to gain success and fortune. Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitious, unselfish boy. He supports hia mother and sister on meagre wajj.^s earned as a shoe-pegger in John Simpson's factory. Tom Is discharged from the factory and starts over- land for California. He meets with many adventures. The story is told in a way which has made Mr. Alger's name a household word in so many homes. The Train Boy. 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