Daniel Boone: The Pioneer of Kentucky
certificate. He was also entrusted with quite large sums of money from
his neighbors, for a similar purpose.
On his way he was robbed of every dollar. It was a terrible blow to him,
for it not only left him penniless, but exposed him to the insinuation
of having feigned the robbery, that he might retain the money entrusted
to him by his friends. Those who knew Daniel Boone well would have no
more suspected him of fraud than an angel of light. With others however,
his character suffered. Rumor was busy in denouncing him.
Colonel Nathaniel Hart had entrusted Boone with two thousand nine
hundred pounds. This of course was all gone. A letter, however, is
preserved from Colonel Hart, which bears noble testimony to the
character of the man from whom he had suffered:
"I observe what you say respecting our losses by Daniel Boone. I had
heard of the misfortune soon after it happened, but not of my being a
partaker before now. I feel for the poor people who perhaps are to lose
their pre-emptions. But I must say I feel more for Boone, whose
character I am told suffers by it. Much degenerated must the people of
this age be, when amongst them are to be found men to censure and blast
the reputation of a person so just and upright, and in whose breast is a
seat of virtue too pure to admit of a thought so base and dishonorable.
I have known Boone in times of old, when poverty and distress had him
fast by the hand, and in these wretched circumstances, I have ever
found him of a noble and generous soul, despising everything mean, and
therefore I will freely grant him a discharge for whatever sums of mine
he might have been possessed at the time."
Boone was now forty-five years of age, but the hardships to which he had
been exposed had borne heavily upon him, and he appeared ten years
older. Though he bore without a murmur the loss of his earthly all, and
the imputations which were cast upon his character, he was more anxious
than ever to find refuge from the embarrassments which oppressed him in
the solitudes of his beautiful Kentucky. Notwithstanding his comparative
poverty, his family on the banks of the Yadkin need not experience any
want. Land was fertile, abundant and cheap. He and his boys in a few
days, with their axes, could erect as good a house as they desired to
occupy. The cultivation of a few acres of the soil, and the results of
the chase, would provide them an ample support. Here also they could
retire to rest at night, with unbolted door and with no fear that their
slumbers would be disturbed by the yell of the blood-thirsty savage.
The wife and mother must doubtless have wished to remain in her pleasant
home, but cheerfully and nobly she acceded to his wishes, and was ready
to accompany him to all the abounding perils of the distant West. Again
the family set out on its journey across the mountains. Of the incidents
which they encountered, we are not informed. The narrative we have from
Boone is simply as follows: our readers will excuse the slight
repetition it involves:
"About this time I returned to Kentucky with my family. And here, to
avoid an enquiry into my conduct, the reader being before informed of my
bringing my family to Kentucky, I am under the necessity of informing
him that during my captivity with the Indians, my wife, who despaired of
ever seeing me again, had transported my family and goods back through
the wilderness, amid a multitude of dangers, to her father's house in
North Carolina. Shortly after the troubles at Boonesborough, I went to
them and lived peaceably there until this time. The history of my going
home and returning with my family forms a series of difficulties, an
account of which would swell a volume. And being foreign to my purpose I
shall omit them."
During Boone's absence from Kentucky, one of the most bloody battles was
fought, which ever occurred between the whites and the Indians. Colonel
Rogers, returning with supplies (by boat) from New Orleans to the Upper
Ohio, when he arrived at the mouth of the Little Miami, detected the
Indians in large numbers, painted, armed, and evidently on the war
path, emerging from the mouth of the river in their canoes, and crossing
the Ohio to the Kentucky shore. He cautiously landed his men, intending
to attack the Indians by surprise. Instead of this, they turned upon him
with overwhelming numbers, and assailed him with the greatest fury.
Colonel Rogers and sixty of his men were almost instantly killed. This
constituted nearly the whole of his party. Two or three effected their
escape, and conveyed the sad tidings of the massacre to the settlements.
The Kentuckians were exceedingly exasperated, and resolved that the
Indians should feel the weight of their vengeance. Colonel Bowman, in
accordance with a custom of the times, issued a call, inviting all the
Kentuckians who were willing to volunteer under his leadership for the
chastisement of the Indians, to rendezvous at Harrodsburg. Three hundred
determined men soon assembled. The expedition moved in the month of
July, and commenced the ascent of the Little Miami undiscovered. They
arrived in the vicinity of Old Chilicothe just before nightfall. Here it
was determined so to arrange their forces in the darkness, as to attack
the place just before the dawn of the ensuing day. One half of the army,
under the command of Colonel Logan, were to grope their way through the
woods, and march around the town so as to attack it in the rear, at a
given signal from Colonel Bowman, who was to place his men in position
for efficient cooperation. Logan accomplished his movement, and
concealing his men behind stumps, trees, and rocks, anxiously awaited
the signal for attack.
But the sharp ear of a watch-dog detected some unusual movement, and
commenced barking furiously. An Indian warrior came from his cabin, and
cautiously advanced the way the dog seemed to designate. As the Indian
drew near, one of the party, by accident or great imprudence, discharged
his gun. The Indian gave a war-whoop, which immediately startled all the
inmates of the cabins to their feet. Logan and his party were
sufficiently near to see the women and the children in a continuous line
rushing over the ridge, to the protection of the forest.
The Indian warriors, with a military discipline hardly to be expected of
them, instantly collected in several strong cabins, which were their
citadels, and from whose loop-holes, unexposed, they could open a deadly
fire upon their assailants, In an instant, the whole aspect of affairs
was changed. The assailants advancing through the clearing, must expose
their unprotected breasts to the bullets of an unseen foe. After a brief
conflict, Colonel Logan, to his bitter disappointment and that of his
men, felt constrained to order a retreat.
The two parties were soon reunited, having lost several valuable lives,
and depressed by the conviction that the enterprise had proved an utter
failure. The savages pursued, keeping up a harassing fire upon the rear
of the fugitives. Fortunately for the white men, the renowned Indian
chieftain Blackfish, struck by a bullet, was instantly killed. This so
disheartened his followers, that they abandoned the pursuit. The
fugitives continued their flight all the night, and then at their
leisure returned to their homes much dejected. In this disastrous
expedition, nine men were killed and one was severely wounded.
The Indians, aided by their English allies, resolved by the invasion of
Kentucky to retaliate for the invasion of the Little Miami. Governor
Hamilton raised a very formidable army, and supplied them with two
pieces of artillery. By such weapons the strongest log fort could
speedily be demolished; while the artillerists would be entirely beyond
the reach of the guns of the garrison. A British officer, Colonel Boyd,
commanded the combined force. The valley of the Licking River, along
whose banks many thriving settlements had commenced, was their point of
destination.
A twelve days' march from the Ohio brought this army, which was
considered a large one in those times, to a post called Kuddle's
Station. The garrison was immediately summoned to surrender, with the
promise of protection for their lives only. Resistance against artillery
was hopeless. The place was surrendered. Indians and white men rushed
in, alike eager for plunder. The Indians, breaking loose from all
restraint, caught men, women and children, and claimed them as their
prisoners. Three persons who made some slight resistance were
immediately tomahawked.
The British commander endeavored to exonerate himself from these
atrocities by saying that it was utterly beyond his power to control the
savages. These wolfish allies, elated by their conquest, their plunder
and their captives, now demanded to be led along the valley five miles
to the next station, called Martin's Fort. It is said that Colonel Byrd
was so affected by the uncontrollable atrocities he had witnessed, that
he refused to continue the expedition, unless the Indians would consent,
that while they should receive all the plunder, he should have all the
prisoners. It is also said that notwithstanding this agreement, the same
scenes were enacted at Martin's Fort which had been witnessed at
Ruddle's Station. In confirmation of this statement, it is certain that
Colonel Byrd refused to go any farther. All the stations on the river
were apparently at his disposal, and it speaks well for his humanity
that he refused to lead any farther savages armed with the tomahawk and
the scalping knife, against his white brethren. He could order a
retreat, as he did, but he could not rescue the captives from those who
had seized them. The Indians loaded down their victims with the plunder
of their own dwellings, and as they fell by the way, sinking beneath
their burdens, they buried the tomahawk in their brains.
The exasperation on both sides was very great, and General Clark, who
was stationed at Fort Jefferson with a thousand picked men, entered the
Indian territory, burned the villages, destroyed the crops, and utterly
devastated the country. In reference to this expedition, Mr. Cecil B.
Hartley writes:
"Some persons who have not the slightest objection to war, very gravely
express doubts as to whether the expedient of destroying the crops of
the Indians was justifiable. It is generally treated by these men as if
it were a wanton display of a vindictive spirit, where in reality it was
dictated by the soundest policy; for when the Indians' harvests were
destroyed, they were compelled to subsist their families altogether by
hunting, and had no leisure for their murderous inroads into the
settlements. This result was plainly seen on this occasion, for it does
not appear that the Indians attacked any of the settlements during the
remainder of this year."
The following incident, well authenticated, which occurred early in the
spring of 1780, gives one a vivid idea of the nature of this warfare:
"Mr. Alexander McConnel of Lexington, while out hunting, killed a large
buck. He went home for his horse to bring it in. While he was absent,
five Indians accidentally discovered the body of the deer. Supposing the
hunter would return, three of them hid themselves within rifle shot of
the carcass while two followed his trail. McConnel, anticipating no
danger, was riding slowly along the path, when he was fired upon from
ambush, his horse shot beneath him, and he seized as a prisoner. His
captors were in high glee, and treated him with unusual kindness. His
skill with the rifle excited their admiration, and as he provided them
with abundance of game, they soon became quite fond of him. Day after
day the savages continued their tramp to the Ohio river, to cross over