James Harrod, "tall, erect, and resolute," a skilful hunter and woodsman, built, in 1774, the first log-cabin in Kentucky on the site of Harrodsburg, and early in the following spring the stockade fort of Boonesborough was built. The habitations of the early settlers had to serve for forts as well. Nowhere on the American continent did the Indians display fiercer hostility to the white settlers than in Kentucky. They made frequent and bloody raids upon them, and more than once seemed about to accomplish their destruction.
Foremost among their active assailants were the Shawnees, who, after having been driven south by the Iroquois, had returned north, and spread themselves over the fertile Miami Valley. Kentucky was their especial hunting-ground, and they made desperate efforts to keep intruding white men out. They had large villages at Logstown, Chillicothe, and Piqua, from whence they could easily swoop down upon the settlements or attack the emigrants descending the Ohio. They were regarded as a courageous, powerful, and faithless race, and have been involved in numerous bloody wars with other tribes. In all our wars with France and England, the Shawnees were found fighting against us. In one respect this tribe is peculiar. Its tradition is that their ancestors came from a foreign land, whereas the general belief of the Indians is that their ancestors came out of the ground.
No name is better known in the pioneer annals of America than that of Daniel Boone. He was of medium height, with a bright eye and a robust and athletic frame, fitted by habit and temperament for endurance. He was now forty years of age—just in the prime of life—and his reputation as a hunter and explorer, his sagacity, judgment, and intrepidity, as well as his calm determination of manner, were widely known, and inspired confidence in those who embarked with him in his perilous enterprises. Gentleness of manner and a humane disposition were also noticeable features of his character.
Boone was the type and precursor of the American backwoodsmen—a remarkable class of men, singular and unique in character, and who found their greatest happiness only when they were in a boundless forest filled with game, with a pack of dogs behind them and a rifle on their shoulders. Though frequently reckless, they were generally as remarkable for high notions of honor and generosity as for hardihood, endurance, and bravery.
The outer garment of these forest rangers was a hunting-shirt—a loose, open frock made of dressed deerskin. Leggings or drawers of the same material covered the lower extremities, to which were appended a pair of moccasins for the feet. The cape or collar of the hunting shirt and the seams of the leggings were adorned with fringes and tassels. The colors employed resembled the hues of the wood, with a view to concealment. The undergarments were of coarse cotton. A leather belt encircled the body; on the right side was suspended the hatchet; on the left side were the hunting-knife, powder-horn, bullet-pouch, and other appendages indispensable to a hunter. Each bore his trusty rifle.
"It was on the 1st of May," says Boone, "in the year 1769, that I resigned my domestic happiness for a time, and left my family and peaceful habitation on the Yadkin, in North Carolina, to wander through the wilderness of America in quest of the country of Kentucky, in company with John Finley, John Stewart, Joseph Holden, James Money, and William Cool. After a, long and fatiguing journey through a mountain wilderness, in a westward direction, on the 7th day of June following we found ourselves on Red River, where Finley had formerly traded with the Indians, and from the top of an eminence saw with pleasure the beautiful land of Kentucky.
"At this place we camped, and begun to hunt and reconnoitre the country. We found abundance of game of all sorts. The buffalo were more plenty than the cattle in the settlements; the numbers about the salt springs were amazing.
"We hunted with great success until the 22nd day of December. This day John Stewart and I had a pleasing ramble, but fortune changed the scene in the close of it. Near the Kentucky River, as we ascended the brow of a small hill, a number of Indians rushed out of a thick canebrake upon us and made us prisoners. They plundered us of what we had, and kept us in confinement seven days, treating us with common savage usage.
", ""During this time we discovered no uneasiness or desire to escape, which made them less suspicious of us, but in the dead of night, when they were asleep, I awoke my companion and we departed. At this time my brother, Squire Boone, who had come to find me, accidentally came upon our camp. This fortunate meeting gave us the utmost satisfaction. Finding a needle in a hay-mow would seem an easier task. Stewart was soon afterwards killed by the savages.
"On the 1st day of May, 1770, my brother returned home 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."
In this lonely situation Boone was constantly exposed to danger and death. To dispel its gloom and melancholy he made frequent explorations of the country. He did not confine his lodging to his camp, but often reposed in thick canebrakes to avoid the savages who, as he believed, often visited his camp, but, fortunately for him, always in his absence. At the end of three months his brother returned, and in the following spring both set out for North Carolina to bring their families to Kentucky.
In the fall of 1773 the emigrants left their homes for the wilderness, and at Powell's Valley were joined by five other families. The encampment of these parties of emigrants at night was near some spring or watercourse, where temporary shelters were made by placing poles in a sloping position, with one end resting on the ground, the other elevated in forks. On these tent-cloth, prepared for the purpose, or articles of bed-covering, was stretched. The fire was kindled in front against a fallen tree or log, towards which the feet were placed while sleeping. The clothing worn during the day was seldom removed at night.
", "Near the Cumberland Gap an Indian attack cut off six young men of Boone's party, among them his eldest son. This calamity caused the return of the remainder and the abandonment of the enterprise.
It seems surprising to us, looking back from our peaceful homes upon these pioneer settlers, men, women, and children, to think that they could thus take their lives in their hands, and journey so faraway from their native country and home, to encounter the horrors of Indian warfare. In their cabins, and while cultivating their fields, they were constantly to this peril. Yet the population continued to increase by immigration, and many small settlements were begun. The more solitary of these, however, could not withstand the attacks of the Indians, and were all deserted during the first year of Indian hostilities.
How near and how real these perils were, an incident of this early period will serve to show.
One warm July afternoon, three young girls, one a daughter of Boone, the others daughters of Colonel Calloway, carelessly crossed the river opposite to Boonesborough in a canoe, and were playing and splashing the water with their paddles, the canoe meanwhile drifting near the shore. Five Indians were lying here concealed, one of whom, reaching the rope that hung from the bow of the boat, turned its course up the stream and in a direction to be hidden from the view of those in the fort. The loud shrieks of the captured girls were heard, but too late for their rescue. Both Boone and Calloway were absent, and night set in before they returned and arrangements could be made for pursuit.
", "Next morning at daylight, Boone, with eight others, were on the track, but found it obscure, the Indians having walked some distance apart through the thickest canes they could find. Observing their general course by signs known only to experienced woodsmen, they travelled in the direction thus indicated upward of thirty miles; then crossing their trace they soon found their tracks in a buffalo path, and ten miles farther on overtook them, just as they were kindling a fire to cook their evening meal.
Each party discovered the other at the same moment. Four of Boone's party fired, killing two of the Indians, and all immediately rushed in, in order to give them no time to murder the captives. The Indians fled, leaving guns, knives, prisoners, and everything in their hasty flight. Boone and his friends were too much elated at recovering their broken hearted little girls to think of further pursuit. The joy of the parents on thus recovering their lost darlings may be imagined, it cannot be described.
The repulse of the savages from Boonesborough and Harrod's Station was followed by an attack on Logan's fort, which contained fifteen persons The forts of Boone and Harrod were about equidistant from Logan's, but as they were also menaced, no aid could be expected from them. The little garrison suffered greatly, but was sustained by the dauntless bravery of Logan. The savages, disappointed in their attacks upon the other two forts, seemed all the more determined to wreak their vengeance upon this.
At the moment of attack, the women were without the fort, milking the cows, the men guarding them. From the cover of a thick canebreak the approaching Indians fired upon them, killing two and wounding a third; the remainder reached the fort unhurt.
A thrilling incident now occurred. Harrison, one of the men who had fallen, was still alive, and was seen to be making ineffectual struggles to drag himself to the fort, from which his distressed family witnessed the harrowing struggle. The sight moved the intrepid Logan to make an effort for his rescue. So perilous seemed the attempt, that one man only could be induced to accompany him, and he, a tried soldier, recoiled at the gate. Left alone, Logan saw the poor fellow, after crawling a short distance, sink to the earth exhausted. Taking his life in his hand he darted forth, raised the wounded man in his arms, and bore him amidst a shower of balls safely to the fort.
Logan's courage, sagacity, and endurance were now to be put to a severer test. The ammunition of the little garrison was well-nigh exhausted. None could be had nearer than Rolston. Through the forest and over the Cumberland Mountains, by an untrodden route, he led a little party of volunteers to this remote settlement, and in ten days returned with the necessary means of repelling the besiegers, who were finally driven off by a relieving force under Colonel Bowman.
Benjamin Logan, who built this fort near the present site of Stanford, about the time Boone's fort was erected, was by birth a Virginian. By the death of his father he was left, at the age of fourteen, with the care of a large family. The nobleness of his nature was shown at this early period. Though entitled by law to the whole landed estate of his father, he shared it equally with his brothers and sisters. In 1775, as we have seen, he settled in Kentucky. Boone's, Harrod's, and Logan's stations were for a long time the grand rallying points for the solitary settlers dispersed over the country; thenceforward Logan was identified with the military and civil history of Kentucky. In 1785 he conducted a successful expedition against the north-western tribes, and four years later was a member of the convention that framed the constitution of the State.
Early in 1778, Boone, while making salt at the Lower Blue Licks, was captured by the Indians and taken to Detroit. Colonel Hamilton, the British commandant, offered his captors a ransom of £100, which was refused. They knew the value of their prisoner, and compelled him to return with them to Chillicothe. He was soon afterwards adopted into the family of Black Fish, one of the principal chiefs of the Shawnee tribe, and wisely appeared to be reconciled to his situation, and to accommodate himself to his new mode of life; he thus succeeded in winning their confidence and affection.
In his narrative he says:
"I often went hunting with them, and frequently gained their applause for my shooting. I was careful not to excel many of them at this sport, for no people are more envious than they. I could observe in their countenances and gestures the greatest expression of joy when they excelled me, and, when the reverse happened, of envy. The Shawnee king took great notice of me, and treated me with profound respect and entire friendship, often trusting me to hunt at my liberty. I made him frequent presents from the game I had secured."
Although Boone was allowed to hunt, the Indians did not wholly trust him. They counted his bullets, and he was obliged to show what game he had shot, and thus prove that he had not concealed any ammunition to be used in effecting an escape. But Boone had an artfulness beyond that of the Indian, for he divided the balls into halves and used light charges of powder.
Learning one day that an expedition against Boonesborough was preparing, and that its defences were in a dilapidated state, he determined to escape. No opposition was made to his taking his usual hurt on the 16th of June. He rose very early, took his gun, and secreted some venison, so as not to be entirely destitute of food.
He had one hundred and sixty miles to travel, through forests and swamps, and across numerous rivers. All his skill and tact as a woodsman were required to throw the Indians off the trail. He was not an expert swimmer, and he anticipated serious difficulty in crossing the Ohio, swollen at this time by continuous rains, and running with a strong current. Fortunately he found an old canoe, which he repaired, and which bore him safely to the Kentucky shore. He was less than five days on the journey, eating but one regular meal on the way, which was a turkey he shot after crossing the Ohio. His reappearance at Boonesborough was hailed with delight, and he was looked upon as one risen from the dead. The fort was at once repaired and strengthened, and in ten days was ready for a siege.
This work was a parallelogram, enclosing nearly an acre. In a trench four or five feet deep, large pickets were planted so as to form a compact wall from ten to twelve feet above the level of the ground. These pickets were of hard timber and about a foot in diameter. At the angles of the fort there were small, projecting squares of still stronger material and planting, technically called flankers, with oblique port-holes, so that the sentinel could rake the external front of the work without being himself exposed. Two immense folding gates were the means of communication from without.
", "As Boonesborough was the first fort built in that region, it at once excited the jealous fears of the Indians, and became the special object of their hatred. The settlement around it was incessantly harassed by marauding parties. Few dared venture beyond the immediate vicinity of the fort. A first attack had been easily repelled; another, and much fiercer one, a few weeks later, had a similar result.
Boone himself had, on one occasion, a narrow escape. Two men at work in the fields were fired upon, and one of them was tomahawked and scalped within sight of the fort. Simon Kenton, who was on the lookout, shot this savage dead and gave chase to the others. Boone, hearing the alarm, rushed out with ten men and engaged the enemy, but soon found himself intercepted by a large body of them. He and his men charged the Indians at once, but were received with a volley that wounded him and six of his companions. Boone's leg was broken, and an Indian was in the act of tomahawking him when Kenton's rifle brought him down. The party, including all the wounded, succeeded in gaining the fort.
Boonesborough had now to encounter the most formidable force ever sent against it. Four hundred and fifty Indians under Black Fish, the chief who had adopted Boone, together with a few Canadians, the whole commanded by a French officer, Captain Du Quesne, appeared before the fort and demanded its surrender. The garrison consisted of sixty-five men. Boone demanded two days in which to consider the proposition. During the time thus gained the garrison collected their horses and cattle and brought them into the fort, the women also being actively employed in bringing water from the spring.
At the end of the two days, Boone, standing upon one of the bastions, returned to Du Quesne the final answer of the garrison. The latter portion of it must have sounded a little ironical to the French officer, who listened attentively to this uncommonly long speech from the taciturn backwoodsman.
"We are determined," said Boone, "to defend our fort while a man is living. We laugh at all your formidable preparations, but thank you for giving us notice and time to provide for our defence."
", "Du Quesne, who seems not to have been very sanguine as to his success, then proposed that the garrison should send out nine of its chosen men to make a treaty, which, if concluded, would terminate the siege and end in the peaceable return of the besiegers to their homes. Boone says, "This sounded grateful in our ears, and we agreed to the proposal." We can only wonder that men so familiar with Indian treachery should have seriously entertained such a proposition. They seem to have believed in the sincerity of Du Quesne, but fortunately did not omit to take certain wise precautions.
The conference took place within sixty yards of the fort, under the cover of the trusty rifles of the garrison. Liberal terms were offered and accepted, the articles were drawn up and signed in due form, and the commissioners prepared to withdraw. But the farce had been played out and it was time for business. Under pretence of a friendly hand-shake at parting, two stout Indians grasped each of Boone's party. They had mistaken their men, however. The stalwart pioneers easily shook them of, and succeeded in regaining the fort in safety amid a general discharge from the savages, but protected by the rifles of their friends in the fort.
For nine days and nights the savages persisted in the attack, employing all means known to them to effect their purpose—setting the fort on fire, and even attempting, though unsuccessfully, to undermine it. They decamped on the tenth day, having lost thirty killed and a much larger number wounded. After their departure one hundred and twenty-five pounds of bullets were picked up, besides what stuck in the logs of the fort; "certainly a great proof of their industry," as Boone humorously remarks.
", "Of the defenders of the fort, one was killed and one wounded by a negro deserter, a good marksman, who fired from the top of a neighboring tree. Boone perceiving this watched him, and, when he saw his head, fired. The man was found after the battle with a ball in his head, the shot being made at the distance of one hundred and seventy-five yards. This was a feat worthy of the renowned Leatherstocking.
A desperate encounter at Ricket's Fort, in Western Virginia, between an elderly man, named Morgan, and two Indians is worth recording.
Pursued by them, and losing ground in the race, he stepped behind a tree to get a shot. The Indians did the same. One of them, not being sufficiently covered, was shot by Morgan, who then resumed his flight, his gun being now unloaded. The remaining Indian followed, and, gaining rapidly upon him, fired, but missed him. Then canoe a hand-to-hand struggle for life. Morgan struck with his gun. The Indian threw his tomahawk, which cut off one finger and otherwise wounded Morgan's hand, at the same time striking his gun from his grasp. They closed, and Morgan, who was an expert wrestler, threw the Indian, but was soon overturned and beneath his more powerful foe, who uttered the fearful Indian yell of assured victory. A woman's apron, which, with savage fondness for adornment, the Indian had tied around his waist, hindered him while feeling for his knife. His adversary in the mean time had not been idle, and had succeeded in seizing the fingers of one of the Indian's hands between his teeth. The latter at length got hold of his knife, but so near the blade that Morgan was able to grasp the handle. Closing his teeth still more firmly upon the imprisoned hand, causing the other to relax a little of its force, Morgan by a desperate effort succeeded in drawing the knife through the hand of the savage. Its possession enabled him speedily and victoriously to end the desperate contest.
"Truth is often stranger than fiction;" the following is a well-authenticated instance in proof of this saying:
In the autumn of 1779, a party, under Major Rodgers, while ascending the Ohio River in flat-boats, were decoyed on shore near the mouth of the Licking River, and totally defeated, a few only escaping. Among the wounded was Captain Robert Benham, who had been shot through both hips. Fortunately, a large fallen tree lay near the spot where he fell. Painfully dragging himself into its concealing foliage, he escaped the notice of the Indians. On the evening of the second day he shot a raccoon, hoping to devise some way of reaching it, so that he could kindle a fire and make a meal.
Scarcely had his gun cracked, however, when he heard a human cry. Supposing it to be an Indian, he hastily reloaded his gun and remained silent, expecting the approach of an enemy. Again he heard the voice, but this time it was much nearer. A third halloo was quickly heard, followed by the exclamation,
"Whoever you are, for God's sake answer me?"
Benham, who, as we have seen, had been shot through both legs, replied, and the man who now appeared had escaped from the same conflict with both arms broken. Each was thus enabled to supply what the other wanted. Benham, having the free use of his arms, could load his gun and kill game with great readiness, while his companion, having the use of his legs, could kick the game to the spot where Benham sat, who was able to cook it. He also fed his comrade and dressed his wounds, as well as his own, tearing up both of their shirts for this purpose. To obtain water, Benham placed the rim of his hat between the teeth of his companion, who would then wade into the river lip to his neck, and by lowering his head would fill it with water.
In a few days they had killed and eaten all the birds and squirrels within reach, and the man with the broken arms was sent out to drive game within gunshot of Benham. Fortunately, wild turkeys were abundant, and Benham seldom failed to kill two or three of each flock. In this manner they supported themselves until they were able to travel, when they camped at the month of the Licking, where they anxiously awaited the approach of some boat which might take them to the Falls of the Ohio.
One day, late in November, they espied a flat-boat moving leisurely down the river. Benham hoisted his hat upon a stick and hallooed loudly for help. The crew, supposing that they were Indians endeavoring to decoy them ashore, passed on as rapidly as possible. Benham beheld them receding, with a sensation of utter despair, for the place was one that was much frequented by the Indians, and the approach of winter threatened them with death unless they could speedily be relieved.
The boat had passed him nearly half a mile, when he saw a canoe put off from it and cautiously approach the Kentucky shore. He called loudly to them for assistance, mentioned his name, and made known his After a long parley, and with great reluctance on the part of the crew, the canoe at length touched the shore, and Benham and his friend were taken on board.
Their appearance was certainly suspicions. They were almost naked, and their faces were garnished with six weeks' growth of beard. The one was barely able to hobble on crutches, and the other had a partial use of but one hand. They were taken to the Falls of the Ohio, now Louisville, Kentucky, where their wounds were properly attended to, and after a few weeks were entirely healed. Benham afterwards served through the campaigns of Harmar, Wilkinson, St. Clair, and Wayne.