Monette, John W. History of the Discovery and Settlement of the Valley of the Mississippi, by the Three Great European Powers, Spain, France and Great Britain, and the Subsequent Occupation, Settlement, and Extension of Civil Government by the United States, Until the Year 1846, in two volumes, Volume II . New York: Harper and Brothers, Publishers, 1846. [format: book], [genre: history]. Permission: Schingoethe Center for Native American Cultures, Aurora University
Persistent link to this document: http://lincoln.lib.niu.edu/file.php?file=monette2.html

Argument. — Man in his natural Condition the Creature of Circumstances, in Habits, Feeling, and Character. — The hostile Attitude and Jealousy of the Six Nations. — Their Neutrality secured by "Treaty of German Flats," in 1776. — Indians paid to violate treaty Stipulations by the British Commissioners at Oswego in 1777, and take up Arms against the frontier People. — The frontier People become daring and vindictive. — Influence of Indian Warfare upon Manners and Usages of the Whites. — Compelled to adopt the Indian Revenge. — Volunteer Defense of the West. — Personal Characteristics of frontier Soldiers. — Athletic Form and Strength. — Patience of Toil and Privation. — Recuperative Powers of the System. — State of Feeling on the Frontiers. — Exterminating Policy of Indians. — Cruelty of British Tories. — Spirit of Revenge in the People. — Their domestic Enjoyments. — Indian scalping Parties on the Frontier. — Their cautious and destructive Movements. — Renegade white Men associated with Indians.

Indian Implements of War. — The Rifle. — The Scalping-knife. — Tomahawk. — Battle-ax. — War-club. — Declaration of War. — Torture. — Running the Gantlet. — Torture at the Stake by Fire.

Eminent Pioneers of Kentucky. — 1. Daniel Boone. — His Nativity and early Habits. — Personal Traits of Character. — His first Acquaintance with Kentucky in 1769 and 1771. — At Watauga in 1775. — Opens a Road from Holston to Kentucky River. — Captain at Boonesborough until 1778. — Captured by Indians at Blue Licks. — His Captivity and Escape. — An active Defender of Kentucky until 1783. — Abandons Kentucky in 1800. — Settles in Missouri. — His Remains and those of his Wife removed to Kentucky in 1845. — 2. Simon Kenton. — His Character as a fearless Pioneer. — Nativity and Early Habits. — Youthful Indiscretion and subsequent Hardships. — A Hunter in Kentucky. — A Hunter in Western Virginia. — Attached to Dunmore's Army. — Becomes "a Hunter of Kentucky." — His personal Appearance at the Age of twenty-one Years. — His benevolent Disposition. — Attached to Kentucky Stations. — Accompanies Colonel Clark to Kaskaskia. — Returns to Harrod's Station. — Visits the Paint Creek Towns. — Captured by Indians. — Wild Horse Torture. — Divers Tortures and Punishments suffered during his Captivity. — Sold in Detroit. — Escapes to Kentucky. — Serves under Colonel Clark in 1780 and 1782. — An active partisan Warrior until 1792. — Encounters Tecumseh. — Serves in Wayne's Army. — Abandons Kentucky in 1802. — Removes to Ohio. — Serves under Colonel Shelby in 1813. — Died in 1836. — 3. Robert Patterson. — Nativity, early Life, and Habits. — Serves in Dunmore's Army. — A prominent Pioneer of Kentucky in 1776. — Erects a Station on the Site of Lexington in 1779. — Active Defender of Kentucky during the Indian War. — 4. Major George Rogers Clark. — His early frontier Services. — His Character and Military Genius. — Superintends the Defense of Kentucky from 1776 to 1782. — Reduction of British Posts in 1778, 1779.

[A.D. 1775.] MAN is the creature of the moral and physical circumstances with which he is surrounded. As these vary, or as any peculiar circumstances predominate, so will be the physical development, and the moral and social character. Labor, toil, and constant exposure to hardships and dangers, give strength and firmness to the muscles, and develop the full stature of the body. Men accustomed from youth to brave

every danger from man and beast, exposed to the constant inroads and assaults of the savages, compelled to be on the alert at all times and places, in order to prevent surprise and death, and often driven by necessity and imminent danger to engage in fearful encounters with the wily Indian in defense of their families or friends, of necessity became bold, fearless, and implacable, eager only for vengeance or victory, whether gained by open war or stratagem.

Contending with civilized foes, man becomes imbued with all the feelings and principles of enlightened warfare, as practiced by civilized nations; but contending with the naked savage in his native forests and mountain defiles, he necessarily becomes assimilated in feelings, habits, and customs, and is compelled to meet all the savage wiles and artifices with similar caution and circumspection; he is likewise compelled to adopt their policy of extermination toward their enemies.

As a beautiful writer has observed, "The success of the early adventurers to the West is almost a miracle in colonization. Nation has heretofore precipitated itself upon nation, conquered the occupants of the soil, and seized upon their possessions; but in this case isolated emigrants, without the benefit of military or civil organization, relying upon their own bravery and skill, and with such assistance from men equally daring as accident might furnish, seized and held an extensive country, and laid the foundation of powerful states. The waste of life by incessant war was more than supplied by a constant stream of new-comers, until the aboriginal race, weakened and discouraged by contending with enemies whom no disaster or defeat appeared to diminish or dishearten, gave up in despair, and attempted by peace to save themselves from extermination." ^[21]

The Indians, at the close of Lord Dunmore's war, had been compelled to yield to the demands of the whites, and to acknowledge the Ohio River as the western boundary of the white settlements. The hostilities which had terminated with the treaty of Camp Charlotte had served only to renew the feelings of mutual enmity between the white man and the savage. These feelings of mutual enmity and jealousy were but imperfectly satisfied on either side by that treaty, for the royal governor had an eye to future events which were likely to transpire between the mother country and the colonies. Thus,

in 1776, there existed between the frontier people and the savages a feeling of mutual jealousy and mutual suspicion, which was only restrained for a time by the proclamation of the governor.

Many permanent settlements had been established on the banks of the Ohio, above Wheeling, and on many of the tributaries of the Kenhawa and Kentucky Rivers. The Indians looked upon all these advances with a jealous eye, but their remonstrances were disregarded; and when they found, year after year, that these settlements continued to increase, and that with every increase came additional claims for lands still further west, the jealousy of the savage ripened into settled revenge, and a fixed determination to arrest the white man's advance.

The wars which had raged from 1755 to 1764 had roused up the whole northwestern tribes to the importance of protecting their country from the white man's grasp. After a delusive calm of ten years, the advances under Lord Dunmore's administration had roused the Indians again to a general war, and their hostility to the whites was only quieted by another delusive peace, which had been entered into by the royal governor in view of ulterior arrangements, in case the colonial disturbances should result in open war.

[A.D. 1776.] Such was the state of Indian feeling at the opening of the Revolutionary war; the Indians were content to remain quiet and see the mother country destroy her own colonies, which had been so annoying to their peace and security. Yet the active part taken by the colonists in the war under Lord Dunmore was such as to leave no good will for them in the breast of the Indian, and they could scarcely desire the colonists to be triumphant. The colonists, however, in contending with the mother country, desired no contest with the Indian; yet, having rendered themselves obnoxious to the Indian resentment by their former efforts in favor of Great Britain for the occupancy of the West, it was deemed expedient by Congress to conciliate the Six Nations, and secure their neutrality by formal treaty.

To this end, provision had been made for a treaty early in the summer of 1776, and General Schuyler, duly authorized and provided, repaired to the "German Flats," where, early in June, the chiefs, warriors, and sachems of the Six Nations

were assembled in council. After due negotiation, a treaty was formed and signed on the 14th of June, 1776, in which the Indians stipulated to observe a strict neutrality in the war which had been commenced by England. Such was the relation existing between the Six Nations and the United States in the early part of the Revolutionary war. But British rapacity, intolerance, and barbarism could not tolerate such a state of neutrality.

[A.D. 1777.] "About one year afterward, a messenger from the British commissioners arrived among the Indian tribes, requesting all the Indians to attend a grand council to be held soon at Oswego, on Lake Ontario. The council convened, and the British commissioners informed the chiefs that the object in calling a council of the Six Nations was to engage their assistance in subduing the rebels, the people of the States, who had risen up against the good king, their master, and were about to rob him of a great part of his possessions. The commissioners added, that they would amply reward the Indians for all their services. ^[22]

"The chiefs then informed the commissioners of the nature and extent of the treaty into which they had entered with the people of the States the year before; informing them, also, that they should not violate it now by taking up the hatchet against them. The commissioners continued their entreaties without success until they addressed their avarice and their appetites. They told the Indians that the people of the States were few in number, and easily subdued; and that, on account of their disobedience to the king, they justly merited all the punishment which white men and Indians could possibly inflict upon them. They added, that the king was rich and powerful, both in subjects and money; that his rum was as plenty as the water in Lake Ontario; that his men were as numerous as the sands on the lake shore; that if the Indians would assist in the war until the close, as the friends of the king; they should never want for money or goods." "Upon such persuasion, the chiefs at length concluded a treaty with the British commissioners, in which, for certain considerations stipulated, they agreed to take up arms against the rebels, and continue in his majesty's service until they were subdued."

As soon as the treaty was concluded, the commissioners made a present to each Indian, consisting of one suit of clothes, a brass kettle, a gun, a tomahawk, a scalping-knife, a quantity of powder and lead, and one piece of gold, promising likewise a bounty on every scalp which should be brought in. Such is the price of blood and rapine with Great Britain.

In a few weeks the warriors, "full of fire and war, and anxious to encounter their enemies," sallied forth against the unsuspecting settlements of New York and Pennsylvania, and their deeds were inscribed with the scalping-knife in characters of blood upon the fields of Wyoming and Cherry Valley, along the banks of the Mohawk, and in the Valley of the Susquehanna, in massacres unparalleled in the history of Indian warfare. ^[23] Thus began the Indian war of the Revolution, prompted, sustained, and encouraged by British gold and British rum.

At the same time, orders were issued to Sir John Stewart, his majesty's agent for southern Indian affairs, commanding him to stir up the Cherokees against the frontier settlements of Virginia and the two Carolinas, occupying the territory drained by the sources of the Holston, Broad, Tugeloo, and French Broad. The flame of Indian war was lighted up simultaneously west of the mountains and against all the settlements upon the waters of the Ohio. These feeble settlements, remote from the dense population and from succor, without defense or support, were thrown, as an isolated portion of the States, entirely upon their own resources for the support of their families in the wilderness, and for the protection of their homes and lives from savage massacre and rapine. Not provided with the means of regular warfare, they were compelled to associate for mutual protection and defense with the limited means at command. Surrounded by hostile savages in every quarter, whose secret approaches and whose vengeance none could foresee or know, they were compelled to depend upon their own courage and energy of character in order to maintain an existence against the exterminating warfare of these allies of the British king. The mode of Indian warfare itself suggested their only course. To protect themselves from midnight slaughter, they were compelled to secure themselves in forts and stations, where the women and children could enjoy comparative security, while the men, armed always in the Indian manner, went out to meet

the enemy in their secret approach and in their hiding-places, whether in the recesses of the mountains or in the dense forests. Thus detached parties of two or three, and sometimes seven, were kept on constant duty as "rangers," or "spies," in traversing the forests in every direction, to prevent surprise at the stations and forts. None but the strong, the active, and the courageous dared engage in these excursions; the remainder occupied the stations and forts as permanent garrisons, and as guards to protect those who were engaged in the labors of the field, or in the avocations of domestic employments.

Every residence, however humble, became thus a fortified station; every man, woman, and child able to raise a gun, or ax, or club, in case of assault, became a combatant in defense of their castle, and every able-bodied man or youth was a soldier of necessity. During hostilities, every day was spent in anxious apprehension, and each night was a time of suspense and watching, uncertain who might survive the night. Life, in such a condition, was a forced state of existence against the dangers of the tomahawk and rifle, for no retreat was safe, no shelter secure, and no caution effectual against the insidious advances and midnight sallies of the ever-watchful savage. The private paths, the springs, the fields, and the hunting-grounds were all waylaid by parties of Indians, who remained quietly in their hiding-places for days to secure the devoted victim who might incautiously frequent those places. To cut off supplies, the gardens and the fields were laid waste at night, the stocks were killed in the woods, and the game was destroyed around them by lurking savages. The bear and the panther, and the most ravenous beasts of prey, were less an object of dread than the Indian, thirsting for human blood, and bent on extermination.

Every recent massacre of helpless innocence and female weakness; every ruined family; every depredation and conflagrated dwelling; every daring incursion and new alarm, served but to increase the white man's terror of the horrid warfare, and to stimulate his vengeance to deeds of blood against the omnipresent foe. To remain at home and in their fortified stations was to starve and make themselves an easy prey to their enemies, or to invite an attack from united numbers, which would overwhelm all in one promiscuous carnage; hence the active, the strong, and the daring scoured the woods

for miles in every direction, to discover any approaches that might be made, and, in case of large numbers discovered, to give the alarm, and prevent surprise to the respective stations. Were offensive operations in force required, where no regular government existed, and where no military organization had been formed, each man volunteered his individual patriotism, and devised ways and means for the general defense; each man became a private soldier, supplied and equipped himself, and entered the expedition to aid in the enterprise. The bold and experienced were, by general consent, placed in command, and all submitted to a cheerful obedience. If the object was the destruction of a remote Indian town, probably two hundred miles distant, and known to be the dwelling-place of hostile bands which had repeatedly laid waste the settlements with conflagration and blood, all were eager to engage in the enterprise. Fathers, sons, brothers, and relatives, all were ready to march to the destruction of the devoted town. Were the numbers required less than the voluntary levy, the leader selected the chosen men and the skillful warriors, leaving the remainder to defend the stations. Thus a portion of the pioneers were compelled to seek danger at a remote distance in order to secure safety for those at home. Every man was a soldier by profession and by daily practice. The frontiers were strictly military cantons for nearly forty years; every man from boyhood was a soldier, and civil government was a mere interlude between the great acts.

Courage, stimulated by the constant demands for active enterprise, unfolded to each man a knowledge of his powers and capacity. Mutual dependence, sincere friendship, and strict confidence in times of danger, cemented them into a band of brothers. The circumstances by which they were surrounded served admirably to develop all those manly traits and noble qualities which, united, constitute "nature's noblemen," such as are rarely seen in dense communities. Early and constant exercise, and habitual exposure to the labors of frontier life, in constitutions naturally vigorous, gave a noble development to their forms and physical stature.

The superiority of the early pioneers and hunters of the West was too apparent to escape the notice of the most careless observer. In stature of body, in strength and activity, in swiftness in the chase, in patient endurance of cold, hunger

and fatigue, in dexterity with the tomahawk and rifle, no set of men probably ever excelled them. Not only were their corporeal developments of the finest proportions, but their daring and active mode of life, and the dangers which they encountered and surmounted from youth to manhood, stamped upon the countenance an open, frank, and fearless air of expression, which was the true index to the soul. Such were Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, George Rogers Clark, Joseph Bowman, Robert Patterson, Benjamin Logan, James Harrod, Ebenezer Zane, Jonathan Zane, Adam Poe, Captain Whitley, Leonard Helm, John Sevier, Isaac Shelby, and many others who distinguished themselves in the darkest hours of savage danger.

These men, as were hundreds of their associates, emigrants to the western country, were persons of robust forms, of great strength, full of courage and fearless adventure. Such only could survive and withstand the hardships necessarily encountered in the western wilds, beset by savages in every direction. Hence, in the emigration from the older states, the choice spirits, the bone and sinew of the country, and the iron hearts only were attracted to the western frontier during these times of danger and privation. A detachment of these men, marshaled in the West, appeared like giants compared to common men, or like the towering grenadiers among common troops, and when experienced in Indian warfare, were more than equal to the savages themselves.

Not only did they excel in vigor of body and in physical development, but the firmness of muscle was peculiar, and all the powers of life within were endued with uncommon vigor and energy. The recuperative powers of the constitution, the vis medicatrix naturae, was active beyond all former example among a civilized people. The restorative power of the vital energy was such, that wounds of a serious character, lacerations, incisions, contusions, and even gun-shot wounds, healed speedily and with remarkable facility. Wounds which, in a dense population or in a highly-civilized community, would inevitably have been attended with gangrene and sloughing, among these frontier people produced only a temporary inconvenience, and healed by the first intention, with inflammation barely sufficient to produce a healthy granulation; many have recovered after having been tomahawked and scalped; and

Simon Kenton recovered and lived to old age after thrice enduring the ordeal of "running the gantlet" in its worst form.

Few persons living in the old settlements, remote front frontier dangers and privations during Indian hostilities, can properly appreciate the horrors of Indian warfare, such as was encountered by the frontier people of Western Virginia, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and Tennessee; no painting of the historian can fully describe them, and his most glowing descriptions fall far short of the stern reality.

The life of the frontier settler was one of fearful danger; a continual contest with a foe who recognized no rules of civilized warfare, and knew no mercy to his enemy but that of extermination. In civilized warfare, those not found in arms may be safe from the death-blow of the soldier; no civilized warrior dishonors his sword with the blood of helpless infancy, old age, or female weakness. He aims his blows at those only who are arrayed against him in open war. But the Indian kills indiscriminately. His object is the total extermination of his enemies, and children are equally the victims of his vengeance; because if males, they may become warriors, and mothers if females. The unborn infant is his enemy also; and it is not sufficient that it should cease to exist with its murdered mother, but it must be torn from its mother's womb, to share with her the horrors of savage vengeance.

[A.D. 1778.] The Indian takes no prisoners; if he deviates from this rule, avarice, not mercy, prompts the deed. He spares the lives of such as fall into his hands because his Christian allies of Canada will pay him more for the living prisoner than for his dead scalp. But perhaps the victim is reserved only for torture, to grace the horrid festival and furnish the young warriors with an opportunity to feast their eyes upon the dying agonies of an enemy to the Indian race, and to gloat upon the pangs which the slow fire inflicts upon the white man. The prisoner may be reserved, though rarely, to strengthen the tribe and to fill the place of a fallen warrior. The cruelty of the savage otherwise knows no bounds; his revenge toward his enemies is insatiable.

The confines between the white man and the savage presents human nature in its most revolting aspect. The white man insensibly, and by necessity, adopts the ferocity and the cruelty of his savage competitor for the forests; and each is alternately

excited with a spirit of the most vindictive revenge, a thirst for human blood which can be satiated only by the indiscriminate destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions.

Man, in his primitive state, is by nature a savage, and in his wars knows no object except the extermination of his enemies in one form or another. When civilized man comes in collision with the savage, all the usages and maxims of civilization, calculated to ameliorate the horrors of war, are abandoned, and civilized man becomes in all these respects a savage in his mode of warfare, in his unrestrained passions, and in his cruel excesses. Too often, indeed, under the contagion of example, we find that civilized man degenerates into the most inhuman barbarian, not excelled by the most ruthless savage. Instances of this kind were of frequent occurrence during the war of the Revolution, exemplified in the persons of the "British Tories," who fought with the Indian allies against the defenseless frontier settlements. ^[24]

Nor can it be concealed that the American pioneer, smarting under the loss of friends and relatives murdered by the savages under every species of savage torture, burning with revenge for repeated incursions and murders upon the settlements, from which they had escaped with impunity, should sometimes wreak his vengeance, when occasion offered, with an unsparing

hand. Humanity is the same in all ages under the same circumstances. The atrocities perpetrated upon the Ohio from 1777 to 1782, and in Tennessee and the Northwestern Territory as late as 1790 and 1794, no less than the inhuman barbarities of the River Raisin in 1812, were sufficient to provoke human nature to a revenge which was truly insatiable. Hence, in their successes over their savage foes, the backwoods soldier has repaid them "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."

[A.D. 1780.] Nor was the frontier settler himself proof against the example set by the savages and their British allies. More than once it has happened that the pioneer warrior, in defending his home, and in revenging the deaths of his murdered family or of his friends, has transcended the bounds of justifiable revenge, and, yielding to the impulses of outraged humanity, has inflicted the most signal and summary death upon unresisting Indians. History does not furnish an instance in which a civilized people, waging war with savages or barbarians, have not adopted the mode of warfare necessary to place them on an equality with their antagonists. It is impossible to adapt civilized warfare to the chastisement of savages.

How can the unprotected people of the frontiers meet a savage war of extermination and cruelty? Can it be met and resisted by the lenient maxims and usages of civilized warfare? In the face of the most horrid scenes of indiscriminate slaughter, the wholesale murder of settlements in cold blood, in the face of the most atrocious murders of friends and relatives, whose ghastly wounds, inflicted by the tomahawk and scalping-knife, were crying to Heaven for vengeance, shall the guilty authors be treated as civilized men? or shall they be treated as human beings? The pioneer who has witnessed these enormities will answer, that every principle of self-preservation requires the adoption of the Indian mode of revenge in its most destructive features. Civilized warfare is inefficient with the savage, and to adhere to it in a war with them is patiently to submit to self-immolation at the shrine of savage vengeance.

For forty years was the strife continued along the frontier settlements of New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina, from the first hostilities under the royal governor, Robert Dinwiddie, in 1754, to the close of the Indian hostilities by General Wayne at Fort Greenville, in August, 1795. The tribes engaged in these hostilities were alternately the "Six

Nations," and their confederates the Shawanese, the Cherokees, the Creeks, and Chickasas. During this time but few intervals of peace were known, and for the greater portion of the time the pioneer settler was constantly menaced with the tomahawk and scalping-knife, over a scope of country extending from the sources of the Alleghany River on the north to the sources of the Cumberland and Tennessee on the south.

To the inhabitants of cities and countries long settled and cultivated, it seems wonderful that any of their race should voluntarily seek the hardships which were necessarily encountered by the early emigrants to the West. That wonder is increased by the consideration that it was at the hazard of their lives, and in the midst of incessant war. With the rifle in one hand and the ax in the other, they traversed the wilderness and erected their scattered stations. Party after party was attacked and butchered on the road through the wilderness. Boat after boat was captured, and whole families were massacred upon the Ohio River and its tributaries. Scarcely a station escaped repeated sieges by the lurking savages. Some were taken and burned; and the inmates, men, women, and children, were tomahawked, or carried prisoners to the Indian towns. The men were waylaid and shot while cultivating their crops, the women and little children were captured or murdered in their cabins while their husbands and sons were in the forest or the field. Still the adventurous pioneer advanced, and thousands from the older settlements seemed to covet the danger, which certainly had its pleasures, though mingled with bitterness.

"But could there be happiness or comfort in such dwellings, and such a state of society? To those who are accustomed to modern refinements the truth appears like fable. The early occupants of log cabins in the ‘bloody land’ were among the most happy of mankind. Exercise and excitement gave them health; they were practically equal; common danger made them mutually dependent; brilliant hopes of future wealth and distinction led them on; and as there was ample room for all, and as each new-comer increased individual and general security, there was little room for that envy, jealousy, and hatred which constitute a large portion of human misery in older societies. Never were the story, the joke, the song, and the laugh better enjoyed than upon the hewed blocks or puncheon stools

around the roaring log fire of the early western settler. The lyre of Apollo was not hailed with more delight in primitive Greece than the advent of the first fiddler among the dwellers of the wilderness; and the polished daughters 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 where the zephyr plays gently over 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 waters." ^[25]

Such were the merry hearts of the frontier people in the absence of Indian hostilities and dangers. The intervals of peace were short and uncertain, but they were seasons of refreshment, which all enjoyed as a season of rest.

Yet they lived in continual apprehension of danger and death. "The wars of the red man were terrible; not from their numbers, for on any one expedition they rarely exceeded forty men; it was the parties of six or seven which were most to be dreaded. Skill consisted in surprising the enemy. They follow his trail, to kill when he sleeps; or they lie in ambush near a village, and watch for an opportunity of suddenly surprising an individual, or, it may be, a woman and her children, and with three strokes to each the scalps of the victims are suddenly taken off, and the brave flies back with his companions to hang the trophies in his cabin, to go from village to village, exulting in procession, to hear orators recount his deeds to the elders and the chief people, and by the number of scalps gained with his own hand to gain the high war titles of honor. Nay, parties of but two or three were not uncommon. Clad in skins, with a supply of red paint, a bow and quiver full of arrows, they would roam through the wild forest as a barque would over the ocean; for days and weeks they would hang on the skirts of their enemy, waiting the moment for striking a blow. From the heart of the Six Nations two young warriors would thread the wilderness of the South, would go through the glades of Pennsylvania, the valleys of Western Virginia, and steal within the mountain fastnesses of

the Cherokees. There they would hide themselves in the clefts of rocks, and change their place of concealment, till, provided with scalps enough to astonish their village, they would bind over the ledges and hurry home. It was the danger of such inroads in time of war that made every white family on the frontier insecure." ^[26]

The state of Indian hostilities is one of terror to the stoutest heart, because the feeble, the unprotected, and the sleeping families are their chief victims. During a state of active hostilities against an extended frontier settlement, the Indians seldom appear in great force, or desire to meet the white man in the field of battle. If an Indian army approaches the settlements, it is only to divide into numerous bands or scalping parties, for distribution against each unprotected habitation, which may become an easy prey to their wiles. These parties separate, and skulk through dense forests, concealed behind trees, bushes, logs, stumps, or in cane-brakes and tall grass, until some victim, unconscious of his approach, hears but the crack of the rifle announcing his own instant death. By night, a fearless band will gain a covert, in full view of some unsuspecting settlement, from which they can observe every movement, until evening twilight approaches, when they advance and sacrifice every soul to their vengeance.

When they appear in great force before a fort or station, where many families are congregated for protection, after the first assault scarce an Indian is seen by the besieged. Without cannon or scaling-ladders, their hope of carrying the place is predicated upon stratagem, or upon starving the inmates into capitulation. They waylay every path, and stop the supplies of water and food, and cut off their victims in detail, without exposing themselves to danger. They kill the cattle, destroy the hogs, steal the horses, plunder every thing which can be of use to them; burn the deserted houses, the barns, the stacks of grain and hay, and cut off all intercourse with those who might render them aid. The chief glory of the savage warrior is to inflict the greatest injury upon his enemy with the least injury or exposure to himself; hence he deems it an act of superior merit to destroy the unwary, the sleeping, and the unresisting victim. Although he often engages in acts of fearless daring, it is not his policy to expose his person; hence,

cunning, stratagem, and secret assaults are the means by which he effects the destruction of the unprotected. It is a maxim with him never to attack unless he possesses every advantage; and if this can be obtained by cunning, treachery, or stratagem, it redounds so much the more to his fame as a warrior.

While the scalping parties are traversing the country of an enemy, every precaution is observed to leave no "sign" or trace of their route; not a bush or twig is broken, not a stick or log is moved, not a stone disturbed, not a portion of any thing used by an Indian is dropped; not even his lodging-place for the night, or his excrement, is suffered to be exposed, lest the white man, skilled equally with himself in tracing the secret courses of his advance, might follow his trail, and take him unawares, or when asleep. Lest he should leave "a sign," he dispenses with fire, with food, with the choicest game, which may pass him undisturbed; for no indication of his route must remain to point his course to an enemy. He utters no sound above a whisper, lest some skillful hunter may be at hand and catch the sound. He walks slowly and cautiously along, and sees the minutest animal or bird that crosses the path, as far as the eye can reach; he sees every leaf that falls, every warbler that carols in the woods, and every branch that is disturbed in the forest. While he sees and hears every thing, nothing, not even the watchful tenant of the forest, sees or hears him. If any moving object in the vista of the forest attracts his eye, he becomes as motionless as a statue, and is scarcely discerned from the inanimate objects around him. Such is the character of an Indian brave as he pursues his way in search of his enemies, and such is the character of the pioneer scout, or "spy," who traverses the forests to watch the approach of the lurking foe.

An Indian army can not long keep the field and remain imbodied; hence, when they imbody for any great enterprise, they proceed rapidly in the direct course, governed by the cardinal points as to the direction, and come suddenly upon their object. A furious assault is made: if upon a "station," swarming on every side, with horrid yells, they thicken around the walls, enter the unguarded gate, or scale the palisades, and, overpowering the feeble garrison within, reduce the whole to a promiscuous scene of carnage and flame. The inmates, probably unconscious of the approaching host, had been engaged in

the ordinary avocations of domestic life, and, taken by surprise, each defends himself and his friends with such means and weapons as are at hand, without any order or preconcerted arrangement. If the station falls under the attack, the inmates and defenders are mostly put to death with indiscriminate slaughter, the houses and defenses are destroyed by fire, when the victors, laden with the spoil, and assisted by such able-bodied prisoners as might be useful to carry off the plunder, depart speedily to their towns.

If the inmates of the station have fortunately received timely intelligence of their approach, the gates are closed, every point is manned, and the men, women, and children are assigned to their proper posts and duties, while the active defenders give their savage assailants a warm and warlike reception. The Indians, perceiving the danger of persisting in the attack, retire from the reach of the fire-arms of the fort, and conceal themselves in the neighboring forest. Each man being his own commissary, and having no supplies of provision, the host is compelled to spread out in search of game and other kinds of food, while a few chosen warriors alternately remain to keep up a strict ambuscade around the fort, lest any should escape and bear intelligence to other stations for assistance and re-enforcements, or lest any should get out at night to procure sustenance for their families. Thus for many days, and sometimes for many weeks, the siege is maintained by bands of Indians alternately relieving each other, while the whole region around, for twenty miles or more, is infested with lurking bands of warriors, whose whole operations are little better than the adventures of thieves and robbers. A successful attack, or a rich supply of plunder, would itself disperse the most formidable army of Indians; for the warriors, as soon as loaded with plunder, can not be restrained from returning to their towns. ^[27]

The horrors of Indian massacre none can describe: the scene of triumph and savage revelry over the mangled bodies of their victims, in a successful enterprise against large numbers, beggars description, and presents them more as fiends incarnate than as human beings. Scenes of this character were witnessed in the war of Pontiac in 1763, when the frontier

posts toward Canada, from Niagara to Chicago, were simultaneously assailed by the allied savages. ^[28]

The most revolting influences of Indian association upon the white man is witnessed in the renegade who has become an outcast from his own people, and, with hatred to his own race, and vindictive toward those he may have injured, retires to the Indian towns, stimulates them to deeds of blood and rapine against his country, and enters with fiendish zeal upon the horrid warfare of the savage. Such men there were along the frontiers in advance of civilization, from which their misdeeds or their lawless propensities had driven them; men who, associating with the savage, found ample pretexts under British authority to wreak their vengeance, side by side with the Indian, against their own countrymen who had become enemies to regal power. These were the frontier British Tories and agents among the Indians. Imbued with all the worst passions of civilized man, they became, in their savage state, the most cruel, the most implacable, and blood-thirsty of the hostile warriors. Adopting the dress, the arms, the manners, and the life of the savage, they also wore the ornaments and paint of the Indian, not excepting the slitting of the ears and nose for the savage pendants.

Among this class of men none were more notorious than Simon Girty, a renegade Pennsylvanian, who was a hunter and trader near Fort Pitt at the commencement of the Revolutionary war. A man of enterprise and daring disposition, he shunned the intercourse of civilized life; and when the Indian tribes took up the hatchet, he retired to the towns upon the Muskingum and Scioto, and, finally, to those between the sources of the Miami and Sandusky Rivers. Here he was actively engaged in planning, organizing, and leading on many of the most powerful Indian incursions against the settlements on the Ohio north and south of Wheeling, as well as against those upon the Kentucky River. Before the close of the war, his name had become notorious as a fierce and cruel warrior, and a chief among the hostile savages. Not only did he organize their warriors and lead them to battle, but he often attended, if he did not preside, at the horrid scenes of torture at the stake.

Savage Implements of War. — The savage warrior, preparatory to the excursion of a war-party, paints his face fantastically

with vermilion and blue stripes, ornaments his head with feathers from the eagle, the owl, and the hawk, fantastically interwoven with his scalp-lock, and then prepares for his enterprise. Thus decked, and armed with his rifle, or the bow and arrows, his tomahawk, and scalping-knife, he celebrates the war-dance, and proceeds to avenge his tribe upon their enemies.

1. The rifle is indispensable to every warrior who can procure fire-arms; this accompanies him in all his excursions of every kind and of every distance, and none is more skillful in its use than the Indian.

Where the rifle is not obtainable, the bow and arrow, in the hand of the warrior, is not less deadly in its effects as an offensive weapon in a close engagement, no less than in pursuit and in retreat; it is more efficient than the rifle itself, because its deadly shafts are hurled with greater frequency.

2. The scalping-knife is a part of his dress; it is worn in his belt at all times, and is a substitute for the dagger in all cases of close personal contest. It serves the uses of a knife in all, cases: being large and sharp, it is a butcher-knife in killing his game, in skinning and dressing the bear, the deer, or the buffalo; but its most terrible use is to butcher helpless human beings, to cut their throats from ear to ear, to disembowel them, and otherwise to mangle their bodies. Its chief and indispensable use, however, and from which it derives its ominous name, is to strip the scalp from the heads of his victims as the trophies of his prowess.

3. The tomahawk is a small, narrow hatchet, not unlike those used by plasterers, having a cutting edge on one side and a hammer on the other. With the first he cleaves open the skull of his enemy as he stands or runs; with the other he knocks him in the head after he has fallen, as a butcher would a steer at the bull-ring, to extinguish life. Sometimes the tomahawk is hollow, and serves likewise for a pipe, in which he smokes his tobacco.

The tomahawk is also used as a missile, and is often thrown at the enemy before he comes into close quarters. Such is the practiced skill in throwing this weapon, that the warrior can plant its edge fast in a sapling not six inches in diameter at the distance of thirty yards. Such is his unerring aim, that he seldom fails to plant it in the head or body of the victim at whom it is thrown. This is a terrible weapon in the hands of the Indian

in a promiscuous massacre of an overpowered army or captured station.

4. The battle-ax of the Indian is still more horrid in its use. It is formed of an angular club, about two and a half feet in length, the angle of one hundred and fifty degrees, being about, ten inches from the large extremity. On the outer angle, or curve, is inserted securely a flat, sharp, triangular piece of iron about three inches long. This answers the double purpose of a tomahawk and scalping-knife. In pursuit or close attack it is equally destructive with the hatchet; and when the victim is down, one stroke across the neck, under the ear, divides the carotids, jugulars, and wind-pipe, and death is certain. Instruments of this kind were abundantly used by the savages on the Ohio frontier, and in the Kentucky and Cumberland settlements. ^[29]

5. The Bow and Arrow. — This weapon is still used in war by the Indians west of the Mississippi. It is a destructive weapon, and in the hands of the savage was often more annoying and effectual than the rifle itself, especially in a general assault in the open field, or in the rout and pursuit of a retreating army. With his bow and quiver the savage could discharge half a score of deadly arrows as he ran, while his companion with the rifle would stop to load. Every arrow which took effect was nearly as fatal as a rifle-ball, and in a mêlée and rout it could be thrown with more unerring effect.

The arrow, whether pointed with steel or stone, was rendered fatal by the envenomed point. The force with which it was sent made its wound deep and effectual. The Indian arrow will pierce a man through; and often a single arrow is fatal to the buffalo, piercing him to his heart; and the rapidity with which these shafts are sent makes them terrible to a routed foe.

Torture is a part of savage warfare. If an enemy have been noted as a warrior, or if a white man, taken in battle or captured by ambuscade, is a distinguished leader, and has been efficient in repelling the Indian incursions, they commemorate his capture by the horrid rites of torture. The same fate is doomed to the first prisoners taken in spring, upon the opening of the campaign.

1. Torture by Fire at the Stake. — The victim is taken to the appointed place for celebrating this savage festival, where the

assembled chiefs, warriors, and the whole population of the villages have convened to witness the approaching tragedy. The victim is stripped to the waist, and his face painted black. In the center of a circle of fagots stands a green sapling, to serve as a stake for the burning. With his arms pinioned, he is led into the circle and haltered to the stake, when the women and children, provided with switches, sticks, and clubs, approach and commence their part of the torture, assailing him furiously with their sticks and other implements. If he falls or reels under the innumerable blows inflicted, or recoils from their force, it serves only to excite the greatest mirth and merriment to his juvenile and feminine tormentors. In this manner he is exposed to this species of torture until he is exhausted, or until the incarnate fiends around him are wearied in their amusement, and retire. During this initiatory ceremony, the mirth and gratification experienced by his tormentors at the sufferings inflicted are expressed in repeated peals of laughter and other signs of merriment, while the warriors look on with unconcern and indifference.

The signal of a more terrible ordeal is at length given. The victim is disengaged from the stake or sapling, and secured to it by a green grape-vine tether or wet rope ten or twelve feet in length. This gives him a circle of twenty or thirty feet in diameter around the stake, which can be traversed alternately back and forth under the infliction of subsequent tortures. His head is now enveloped in a soft clay cap, to protect his brain from the immediate action of the fire, which otherwise might prevent his protracted sufferings. His feet are covered with bear-skin moccasins, having the hair outside to protect them from the burning coals which may become scattered over the area of the circle. The fagots, placed in a circle around the stake, are at length set on fire, and the blazing element soon completes a circle a few feet outside of the circle described by his tether. The prisoner, constantly shunning the fire, retreats from one point to another, and is scourged around the stake forth and backward for the amusement of the youth and old women, exposing every part of his body successively to the action of the fire, until the surface is literally roasted. During this part of the process, the youths and squaws indulge in the free and boisterous mirth at the struggles, screams, and the agony of the victim, while the crowd of spectators look on

with complacency and unconcern. At length, after this ceremony has continued half an hour or more, the victim, exhausted with suffering, becomes faint or insensible, reels to and fro, or falls upon the ground. To rouse his latent sensibilities, and to quicken his movements, the warriors, and even the squaws, step into the ring, and by the application of firebrands to his skin, or by piercing his body with blazing fagots of pine, endeavor to rouse him to renewed efforts.

If the victim be an Indian warrior, he is now goaded to perfect fury; he sweeps around the extent of his circle, kicking, biting, and stamping with inconceivable rage. As he sweeps around, the women and children fly from him with great merriment, and give place to fresh tormentors. At other times the warrior will bear all their torments without disclosing a single indication of pain, sullenly smoking his pipe, while he scornfully derides his tormentors by singing, or applying to them the most reproachful epithets, of which none is more degrading than the term of old women or squaws.

As the victim becomes faint and exhausted, the cap of clay is removed from his head, and burning coals and hot embers are poured over the head; at other times the scalp itself is removed with the scalping-knife, and hot embers poured over the bleeding skull. ^[30] At length some old warrior takes pity upon him, and with one blow of the tomahawk releases him from his agony.

2. The Gantlet. — This is likewise a severe ordeal, but not invariably fatal. This torture is likewise inflicted upon the prisoners who are deemed worthy such distinguished honor. The mode of conducting this torture is as follows: The inhabitants of one or more villages assemble near a council-house, and young and old, male and female, are formed in two parallel lines facing each other, and about ten feet apart, extending from three to six hundred yards in length, and terminating within fifty yards of the council-house, and comprising from one to five hundred individuals. The victim is taken to the remote extremity, and stripped of any clothing which might furnish protection from the blows and stripes aimed at his body, and thus he stands ready for sacrifice.

Each person in the lines has prepared himself, or herself, with some weapon or implement with which they intend to inflict

a blow or wound as he passes in his race to the council-house. The women and boys have switches, rods, or sticks; the men have sticks, clubs, paddles, and sometimes knives, with which they seek to inflict some injury as he passes. All things having been duly arranged, the signal is given, the victim takes his position at the extremity of the two lines, his race is pointed out to him, and he is told to exert himself and do his best; that if he make his way alive to the council-house, it shall be to him an asylum not to be violated. He is scourged by those around him, and commanded to run for his life. As he progresses, every one endeavors to inflict a blow as he approaches; and many a severe buffet, and many a stripe, and many a heavy blow, and sometimes a deep wound by knives, does he receive before he reaches the goal of his desire. None but the vigorous and active can expect to reach the "council-house," and few who expect it ever succeed. The repeated blows, which fall thick and heavy upon him, seldom fail to arrest his career before he has run more than half his race. ^[31]

Simon Kenton, one of the most athletic of the Kentucky pioneer warriors, succeeded in reaching the council-house in three different towns, where he was compelled to submit to this species of torture while a prisoner among the Indians.

Declaration of War. — This ceremony, with the Mingoes, was at once singular and terribly expressive. When it had been determined in council to declare war against an enemy, a formal declaration of their intention was made in their peculiar style. A chief in command of a party of warriors proceeds to the vicinity of some small settlement, where they kill and scalp all that fall into their hands, burn the houses, and completely lay waste the enclosures, and secure the plunder preparatory to their return. The war-club is then placed in some conspicuous place, where it can not fail to be seen by those who come to pay the last tribute of sepulture to their friends. The pioneer, seeing the emblem, knows well the fearful import. The symbol near the silent dead and smoking ruins gives an indication which can not be misunderstood. It declares that a national war has begun, and that the havoc near is only a notice of future visitations still more terrible. This symbol was left by Logan, the Cayuga chief, in the beginning of Lord Dunmore's war in Western Virginia. The same symbol was also left, in

the same manner, at the Big Bottom, on the Muskingum, in the winter of 1790 and 1791; a full warning of the dangers which threatened them. ^[32]

The war-club is not a weapon of war, as its name would seem to imply. It is purely symbolical, indicating that the ball has been thrown and the game has commenced. The symbol consists of the club, or bandy. It is about three feet and a half long, with each end terminating in a reversed curve, not unlike the human clavicle. In the concave extremity of one end is a large wooden ball, firmly attached to the club. This ball is about the size of a four-pound iron shot. The whole is a neat piece of workmanship, and prepared with care by the savage.

The best illustration of the manners and customs of the frontier people during savage hostilities, and their characteristic traits connected with border life, will be found in a condensed summary, a comprehensive sketch of their lives and actions. Hence, for the purpose of presenting the reader with the tissue of dangers, toils, privations, and sufferings encountered by those who opened the way for civilization in the West, we will sketch the biography of some of the prominent "hunters of Kentucky," as exhibited in the lives of Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, Robert Patterson, and George Rogers Clark; the three former, bold, experienced hunters and woodsmen in their earlier years, gradually rising to rank as soldiers and warriors; the fourth, a bold, towering, and successful commander in the warfare of the wilderness.

[A.D. 1769.] Daniel Boone, reared upon the frontiers of North Carolina and Virginia, west of the mountains, a woodsman and hunter by nature and habit, was a man of strongly-marked character. A bold and skillful hunter from his youth, shunning the dense settlements, and preferring to rove in the solitary wilderness, he became associated in his views and feelings with all that was wild, romantic, and aboriginal. Endued by nature with remarkable equanimity of feeling, which assimilated him to his red brothers of the forest, and trained from youth, by his avocation as a hunter, to traverse deep solitudes remote from social life, his countenance assumed that demure cast, which, like that of the Indian, knows no change from inward emotions, and preserves a changeless uniformity in every

vicissitude of fate or fortune. Yet in his domestic intercourse he was sociable and kind, his manners were plain and unassuming, and his benevolence embraced the whole circle of his acquaintance. With great bodily vigor, with indomitable courage, and with perseverance which never faltered in his object, he was peculiarly adapted to be the pioneer to civilization in the West, while his talents for social life fitted him for the relative and social duties which necessarily devolved upon him, surrounded by a frontier population. ^[33]

Grave, taciturn, and retiring, he courted not the presence of the crowd, or the excitements of popular assemblies, but the excitement of the battle-strife, and the daring adventures of the chase, subduing the denizens of the forest, whether man or beast, were his chief ambition, and the great business of his life.

In the summer of 1769, prompted by wealthy men of North Carolina, speculators in western lands, and allured by the glowing descriptions of Finley as to the abundance of game and the magnificence of the western wilderness, Boone plunged into the remote wilds of Kentucky, in company with John Finley, John Stuart, and three other companions, upon a protracted hunting expedition. Here, in the wilderness, two hundred miles west of the Cumberland Mountains, and three hundred miles from the frontier settlements of North Carolina, the party separated into two divisions, Boone and, Stuart taking one course, and the remaining three taking another, for the purpose of compassing a more extensive hunting range and scope of exploration. Boone and Stuart advanced westward almost to the sources of Salt River, where they found the buffalo, elk, and deer in great abundance. Bearing north, they saw Kentucky River, and with astonishment beheld its smooth channel cut out to the depth of three hundred feet in the solid rock, through which its placid waters gently moved. Here, from a lofty eminence, they beheld the beautiful plain of Kentucky. Intending to return and rejoin their party, they set out from Kentucky River; but they had proceeded only a short distance, when a party of Indians, suddenly springing from a cane-brake, seized and bound them as prisoners, depriving them of their arms, ammunition, and clothing. Close prisoners with the Indians, they were marched several days on the Canada route, when, by their knowledge of Indian character, they succeeded in making

their escape, and recovering their rifles while the savages were asleep, when they pressed forward in their return route, and at length established themselves in a hunting-camp, preparatory to the winter's toil. Here they were soon joined by Boone's brother and a small party from North Carolina, who, spending the winter in a regular hunting tour, exhibited a fair specimen of "Kentucky hunters," securing skins and peltries, and faring sumptuously on wild flesh without bread.

[A.D. 1770.] In the spring the proceeds of the winter's hunt were sent by the brother of Boone and his companions to the eastern market, and Daniel Boone and Stuart remained sole occupants of Kentucky. But they were upon forbidden ground. It was the "common hunting-grounds" of the Shawanese from the north, and of the Cherokees from the south, upon which no white man could safely establish himself. An intruder upon the rights of the savage, Boone required all his tact and experience as a hunter to avoid being discovered by the vindictive red man of the forest. The Indians were upon his trail and his haunts, and his place of rest was daily changed to insure his safety. More than once had his camp been plundered by the lurking savage in his absence, while the wily foe laid in wait near it for his return. Still Boone, superior to the red man in his own element, continued to elude pursuit. At length he was encountered by the Indians, and the first fire laid Stuart dead at his feet, when Boone, disappearing in the thick cane-brake, without arms, ammunition, or clothing, eluded his pursuers and secured his escape. Then followed the trying time of the wary hunter. Alone in the wilderness, without the means of procuring sustenance, or of defense against beasts of prey, without weapons or hunting implements, he roamed sole white tenant of the "dark and bloody ground," compelled to starve, or to subsist upon roots, shrubs, and fruits. Thus did Daniel Boone spend the summer of 1770, until fortunately relieved by his brother's return in the autumn. ^[34]

[A.D. 1772.] The next two years were spent in hunting excursions and expeditions on the extreme western frontier of North Carolina, and in frequent intercourse with the Cherokee Indians. Still haunted by the images of the glorious fertility and abundance of Kentucky, he determined to encounter the peril of conducting a colony into that remote and inhospitable

region. ^[35] Having advanced one hundred and forty miles, near the western side of Cumberland Gap, he was assailed by Indians; and after a skirmish, in which his son and some others were killed, he was compelled to fall back to the settlements on Holston. But the occupation of Kentucky was not abandoned; he only waited a more propitious time. During the latter part of this year he was interested in the success of the projected colony of Transylvania, under the superintendence of Colonel Richard Henderson and company.

In the spring of 1775, after the close of the Indian war, he accompanied Richard Henderson and company to the Watauga, to assist in conducting the treaty for the relinquishment of the lands south of the Kentucky River. After the close of the treaty, he was the first man to advance beyond the Cumberland Gap, and, with twenty hunters and woodsmen, he proceeded to open and mark a trace more than two hundred miles through the wilderness to the banks of the Kentucky River. This was the first "blazed trace" in Kentucky. Notwithstanding the Cherokee cession, the route was infested by hostile Indians; and although several of his party were killed in repeated attacks of Indians, yet he continued to advance, and laid the foundation of Boonesborough. Returning to North Carolina, he led out in the fall the first regular colony.

He was an active and useful member of the little Republic of Transylvania until the following year, when it was merged in the "county of Kentucky." In 1777 he was appointed captain, and served in defense of the settlements on Kentucky River until the close of Indian hostilities. In the month of January, 1778, he and twenty-eight men under his command were captured by the savages, and six months he remained a prisoner among the Indians of Canada. Excelling the Indians themselves in every quality which exalts an Indian warrior, he became a favorite among them, and was adopted into their tribe as a brave. Gaining daily upon their confidence, he became their most expert and confidential hunter, and obtained his liberty to go at large with the warriors. Evincing cheerfulness, and a feigned attachment for the Indian mode of life, Boone was hardly suspected by the savages of entertaining a wish to return to Kentucky. But Kentucky and Boonesborough were the idols of his heart; and he secretly longed

for the opportunity of presenting himself to his family and friends.

In June, 1778, when the British and Indians had assembled a strong force for the invasion of Kentucky and the destruction of Boonesborough, he determined to give the alarm, and thus prevent a disastrous surprise. Seeking the first opportunity, he escaped from a regular hunting-tour, and with one meal in his wallet directed his eager steps toward Kentucky. From the head waters of the Great Miami, traversing the wilderness alone on foot, more than one hundred and fifty miles in six days, along the most unfrequented routes, he reached Boonesborough in advance of the Indian host, and gave the first intelligence of the approaching danger.

The escape of the prisoner not only gave the notice for preparation to his friends, but it likewise deferred the contemplated attack; for, knowing that the enemy, apprised of their approach, would be prepared, they thought success hopeless.

In August, 1782, he was commander of a company, and, obedient to the orders of his superiors, but against his own better judgment, advanced against the concealed savages in the disastrous battle of the Blue Licks. In the heat of the engagement, he came into a personal and mortal conflict with a powerful Shawanese warrior, and in the struggle laid him dead at his side.

[A.D. 1785.] After the close of the Indian wars, he remained a plain and retired farmer, enjoying the domestic comforts of rural life in the country which he had explored, settled, and so nobly defended. But it was not to be his abiding place. While lands were cheap and plenty, and exposed to constant dangers from hostile savages, his right to the possession and occupancy of a small portion was not disputed; but when settlements were extended, and a dense population had filled the country, and Indian dangers were past, lands became valuable, and titles were examined and compared. The hardy pioneer, the hunter, or the woodsman, unskilled in the technicalities of law, and the intricacies of land-titles and judicial procedure, was compelled to give way to the avarice of the speculator, the land-jobber, and the script-holder. The possession of paper titles, or script, from the Atlantic seaboard, when, the whole West was in the possession of the hostile Indians, had more virtue in them, and gave a better title to the emigrant stranger,

than the actual possession and conquest of the country; and those who had expelled the savages, and encountered all the horrors of a frontier life in holding possession of the country, were, in their old age, compelled to surrender the result of all their toils to some fortunate heir, born to be an unworthy script-holder and legal robber of the pioneer. In all litigation relative to land-titles in Kentucky, the law leaned to the non-resident script-holder; and Boone, who could conceive no title better than conquest and actual possession, was stripped of his lands by legal decisions, while his personal estate was exhausted in payment of costs for the unjust decisions.

No wonder that Boone, in his old age, driven from lands which he so well deserved to inherit, retired in disgust from civilized society, and sought an asylum in the remote wilds of the West, beyond the reach of the land-jobber and script-holder! In early life he had found independence and justice in the wilds of the West, and he resolved to enjoy it still in advance of civilization.

Hence, in the year 1800, taking his faithful rifle and his family, ejected from their homes, and bidding farewell to Kentucky, as he had to North Carolina thirty years before, he took up his pilgrimage to the far West, beyond the Mississippi, and sought a last resting-place on the banks of the Missouri, within the dominion of Spain. Here, in advance of civilization, and beyond the reach of a crowded population, he spent the residue of his days, where he was quietly gathered home to his fathers before he had again felt the approach of the advancing multitude.

But he was not forgotten in Kentucky; there was still virtue in that noble state duly to appreciate his merits, and a generous spirit of patriotism could not permit his bones to remain in the wilds of Missouri. The patriotic citizens of Frankfort, in the summer of 1845, transferred his mortal remains from their resting-place in Missouri, and deposited them under a monument erected to perpetuate the memories of the first pioneers of Kentucky. ^[36] Henceforth the mortal remains of Daniel

Boone, and those of Rebecca Bryan, who had been the wife of his bosom for more than forty-five years, the companion and solace of his life, and his theme in death, shall remain inseparable until the general resurrection.

2. Simon Kenton was one of the most fearless and the most successful of the Indian fighters in Kentucky, not excepting Daniel Boone himself. No man among all the daring pioneers of the West encountered the savage foe in so many ways and on so many bloody fields. No one man in his own person encountered as many dangers, as many privations, and as many hair-breadth escapes in defense of the western settlements, from the very first dawn of civilization upon the Ohio. Others may have distinguished themselves by their usefulness in any one sphere of action, or in one or more important engagements with the savages; but with Kenton it was one uninterrupted train of operations, a continued scene of perils unknown to any other man. Rarely deigning to shelter himself in forts and stations, he preferred to encounter the enemy in the open forest, depending alone for success upon his superior strength, skill, and prowess. The child of adversity and the sport of fortune, his life can not fail to present an impressive picture of the dangers, privations, and horrors of a frontier life during a state of Indian war.

Born of Irish parents, in March, 1755, in Fauquier county, Virginia, he spent the first fifteen years of his life in the humble labors of the field and in the domestic avocations of a frontier life. His father being poor, and belonging to one of the degraded classes of the British empire, from whom the lordly aristocracy of England exclude even the first glimmerings of learning and science, Simon grew up to manhood in the aristocratic province of Virginia utterly ignorant of the English alphabet, and old age found him barely able to inscribe a scroll

with an autograph intended for "Simon Kenton." Yet he was not unskilled in the strategy of the hunter and the frontier soldier.

[A.D. 1771.] At the age of sixteen, an unfortunate encounter, in which he supposed his antagonist mortally wounded, caused him to fly from the settlements, where law and order prevailed, to the remote West, where these restraints were unknown, and where obscurity might be a sure protection from the demands of law and justice. Hence, leaving his father's house and the victim of his just vengeance, he fled west of the mountains, traveling on foot all night, and lying concealed all day, living upon the most scanty forest fare, in constant fear of pursuit, until he reached the settlements upon the head waters of Cheat River. Here, almost perished with fatigue and hunger, and fearing discovery, he assumed the name of Simon Butler, and friendless, destitute, and unlettered, sought a bare subsistence by daily labor as a menial. At length, after months of arduous toil, he succeeded in supplying himself with a rifle, when he entered upon the hunter's life, and, in company with a party of hunters in a canoe, descended the Monongahela to Fort Pitt. Having secured the favor and patronage of Simon Girty, a man of talent and influence in the fort, he became special hunter for the garrison. ^[37] Here, having frequent intercourse with the friendly Indians, who then mingled freely among the whites, he learned to speak several dialects of the Indian tongue; and Yeager and Strader, two of his hunting companions, were already familiar with the Indian language. At this early date did Kenton become acquainted with the language of those who were to be his deadly foes in subsequent times.

In company with Yeager and Strader, Kenton set out down the Ohio, floating in a canoe, and visiting the Indian towns as they passed along in quest of the "cane lands" of Kentucky, of which they had heard much as a region abounding in game. At length, late in the autumn, they found themselves at the

mouth of Kentucky River. Having thus far seen none of the "cane lands," they ascended the Ohio as far as the mouth of the Great Kenhawa, and ascending this stream as far as the mouth of Elk River, on the present site of Charleston, they established a "hunting-camp" for the winter's campaign.

[A.D. 1772.] After a prosperous hunt, the spring found them on the Ohio, exchanging their rich supply of hides and peltries for clothing, ammunition, and other necessaries, which they procured from a French trader. ^[38]

The ensuing summer and fall was spent by Kenton and his party in hunting excursions, roaming over the hills, plains, and mountains which lie upon the sources of the Great Kenhawa and Big Sandy Rivers. In these romantic regions of primeval forests, Kenton himself declares he spent the most happy periods of his long and eventful life. Here, in the majestic solitudes of nature, free from care, the denizen of nature in the full vigor of health, and abounding in all that a hunter's life can desire, he enjoyed that perfect independence which fears no rival in its wide domain.

[A.D. 1773.] The spring brought with it the portents of a savage war, the clouds of the American Revolution began to lower, and Indian difficulties in the West had commenced. The encroachments of the white man had become intolerable to the Indian, for cases of individual revenge were already frequent; and Kenton, in his lonely "camp," a hundred miles from the white man's settlements, was not secure from the vindictive savage. In the cold month of March, one evening just at dark, after a tedious ramble during the day, Kenton and his two friends had returned to camp, and before a cheerful camp-fire were lounging upon their bearskin pallets, thoughtless of danger, and beguiling away the dull hours of a winter evening with cheerful glee, when, like the lightning's flash, the sharp crack of the Indian's rifle laid Yeager a lifeless corpse. Surrounded by a party of lurking Indians, lest the camp-fire should direct their unerring aim, Kenton and Strader instantly fled under the shelter of night, without clothes, arms, or rifle. Thus exposed in the wilderness before the close of winter, in their shirts, without shoes, destitute of arms or ammunition, without the means of procuring food or fire, exposed to the horrors of cold and starvation, they sought their melancholy way through

a pathless wilderness toward the white settlements. ^[39] At length, with lacerated feet and legs, skin bruised and scratched by briers and brush, and nearly perished with hunger and cold, they fell in with a hunting party on the Ohio, by whom their wants were supplied.

[A.D. 1774.] The determined hostilities of the Indians the following spring compelled the hunting parties and traders throughout the wide frontier to retire to the settlements and posts. Kenton, with others, having disposed of his hides and peltries to a French trader on the Ohio, retired to Fort Pitt.

He is next employed as a hunter and ranger attached to Lord Dunmore's army. Selected by Major Connolly at Fort Pitt, he was employed as the bearer of dispatches from his lordship to General Lewis on the Kenhawa. Failing to meet the general's division while in his lonely search, he was attacked by Indians on the Kenhawa, and escaping, made his way through a region infested with hostile savages to Fort Pitt, in time to join the main expedition to the Scioto.

From the mouth of the Hocking River across to the Scioto, Kenton was employed as a spy, or scout, to range the forest in advance of the army, to observe the movements and "signs" of the savages, and to guard the army against surprise or ambuscade. The service of a "spy," or scout, in an Indian country, is one of great danger and great responsibility, and none but choice men are assigned to the arduous and dangerous task. None ever possessed the requisites of a spy more amply than Simon Kenton, and when he was in advance of the army it was more safe from ambuscade than if preceded by a cohort. Thoroughly acquainted with the Indian character and wiles, with deliberate courage, a steady nerve, a keen eye, ranging miles in advance of the marching column, and moving with the caution and silence of the wolf, he detected the first "signs" of a lurking enemy, himself unseen. Such was Kenton's task in the expedition to the Scioto.

[A.D. 1775.] The campaign closed, and Kenton resumed his favorite employment, and passed the winter in a hunting tour among the mountains and highland forests of that wild and romantic region on the sources of the Big Sandy. The spoils of the winter hunt having been again exchanged for a plentiful supply of ammunition, he descended the Ohio, again to explore

the famous "cane lands" of Kentucky. In company with Thomas Williams, early in May he encamped for the night at the mouth of Limestone Creek, but "saw no cane." Next morning with his rifle, he commenced a hunting ramble over the highland plain, and before he had proceeded four miles from the river, to his great joy he saw "the most luxuriant cane" growing upon the richest lands he had ever seen, and which abounded in game, and was finely watered with gushing springs. Near a fine spring, bursting from the rock, he selected a tract of land, which he determined to secure under the preemption laws of Virginia. This was the first time Kenton had felt a desire to appropriate lands to his own use, and it became the fruitful source of perplexity and loss. His location was within one mile of the present town of Washington, in Mason county, Kentucky. ^[40]

With his companion, Williams, he erected his camp, declared half an acre of ground, and planted a patch of corn, when his "right of settlement" was complete. The whole region for sixty miles south and west was the range of his hunting-grounds and his summer explorations.

In one of his solitary excursions upon the waters of Elkhorn, disguised as an Indian, he encountered Michael Stoner, a hunter from North Carolina, also in Indian guise. A silent contest of Indian strategy for mutual destruction commenced, but not a word was spoken. Each knowing himself to be a white man, and believing his antagonist an Indian, sought by all the arts of Indian warfare, to protect himself, and draw the enemy's fire. After mutual efforts and manoeuvers ineffectually to draw each other from his shelter, or to steal his fire, Stoner, suspecting that his antagonist was verily not an Indian from his covert exclaimed, "For God's sake, if you are a white man, speak!" The spell was broken. They were both white men speaking the same tongue and soon were companions in the solitary wilderness. Stoner conducted Kenton to the new settlements which had been commenced at Boonesborough and Harrodsburg. This was Kenton's first introduction to the inhabitants on the Kentucky River; and here he subsequently took up his abode as an active defender of these settlements through the Indian wars which soon commenced. ^[41]

But where was Thomas Williams? Indian hostilities had

been commenced by straggling bands of hunting warriors, and when Kenton returned to his pre-emption improvement near Limestone Creek, he found it deserted. The Indians had been there and plundered the camp, and a few rods distant he found evidences of a fire, and hard by were human bones, which told the fate of Williams, the first victim of the war in Kentucky. Returning to Harrod's Station, Kenton soon found employment congenial with his nature in guarding the inhabitants from danger and in supplying them with meat.

[A.D. 1776.] The Indians began to move against all the new settlements, most of which were soon abandoned, and their occupants retired for safety to the vicinity of Boonesborough, Harrod's Station, and Logan's Fort. These places, being securely fortified, served as places of general rendezvous. Kenton served all these stations in the capacity of a general scout, or "ranger," to detect the first approach of the enemy, during the remainder of this year. Here he commenced his pupilage in the wiles of actual Indian warfare, in which he soon became noted for his courage, skill, and stratagem against the wary Indian.

His first enterprise was one for the supply of ammunition for the general defense of the stations. A volunteer with Robert Patterson and twenty-eight other pioneers of Kentucky, he accompanied Major George Rogers Clark from Harrod's Station to the mouth of Limestone Creek, for the purpose of escorting and transporting on foot twenty-five kegs of powder to the stations on Kentucky River.

[A.D. 1777.] Kenton was now in his twenty-first year, and presented a fair specimen of a hardy, athletic young backwoods hunter. In stature he was above the middle size, standing in his moccasins six feet and one inch. His ordinary weight varied from one hundred and seventy to one hundred and eighty pounds; his muscle was full and firm, and free from redundant fat; his body was vigorous, active, and patient of toil, hunger, and exposure; his form was erect and graceful, his limbs well proportioned, and possessing uncommon strength. In personal prowess he had few equals, either among the American pioneers or among the native tribes of the forest.

His complexion was naturally fair, his hair flaxen brown, and his eye a soft grayish blue. In his eye there was a

bewitching smile, which seldom failed to fascinate the beholder and bespeak his partiality. In his disposition he was frank and void of suspicion, generous, kind, and confiding to a fault. Careless of himself and his own interests, he was most happy when he could serve those around him.

Unskilled in the lore of schools or the refinements of polished society, he was one of nature's noblemen, uncontaminated by luxury and vice. Honest himself, he could scarcely conceive a motive for deception or dishonesty in others. Skilled in all the signs and maxims of Indian warfare, and expert in all the mysteries of the chase and in the exploration of unfrequented regions — true to his course as the needle to the pole, he was at home in the most retired valley or in the most intricate forest, and with his comprehensive knowledge of the relative bearings of remote points, he required no pathway to direct his feet.

Mild and benevolent in his feelings, he was slow to anger; but when his rage was once excited, it was a hurricane of action. When enraged, his fiery glance withered the object of his fury from his presence. ^[42]

His voice was soft and tremulous, but not unpleasant to the ear.

It was in the spring of 1777 that he commenced his fierce contests with the wily savage in Kentucky. While on a tour of duty as a scout, in company with five others, near "Hingston's Station," he was attacked by a superior party of Indian warriors, and after a vigorous defense he was defeated, with the loss of one man killed and all their horses captured by the victors.

Soon afterward, by the orders of Major Clark, the captain of each station was required to keep out three state-rangers, or spies, for the security of the settlements; and Captain Boone selected Simon Kenton as one of his state-spies on the part of Boonesborough. In company with five others, he was dispatched on a tour of duty, to guard the inhabitants from surprise. To accomplish this object, it was necessary to traverse the whole region from the principal forts and stations upon the Kentucky to the Ohio, and from the mouth of Licking on the north to the mouth of Kentucky River and to "the falls" on the south. ^[43]

Kenton's first adventure in his new capacity was close at hand. One morning early, while with two companions he was just leaving Boonesborough on a morning hunt, and before he had left the gate, the alarm was given by two men who were suddenly driven back from the woods, with five Indians close at their heels. One of the men fell under the tomahawk within seventy yards of the fort. The pursuer, eager for his trophy, was tearing the scalp from his victim, when the unerring rifle of Kenton dropped him upon his fallen foe. Kenton, with his companions, gave pursuit to the remaining four Indians as they retreated to the woods. Re-enforced by Captain Boone and ten men from the fort, Kenton's party advanced until they were drawn into an ambuscade, and the whole of Boone's party became engaged in a destructive skirmish. During the deadly strife, while Indians and white men were sheltered each by his tree, Kenton perceived upon his right an Indian taking deadly aim upon Captain Boone, and, quick as thought, he dropped the savage before his aim was complete, and Captain Boone's life was the trophy of his skill. He had scarcely reloaded his piece, when the Indians in large numbers were perceived deploying from a covert on the left, in order to cut off their retreat to the fort. The fearless Boone resolved to force his way through their line to the fort; but in the advance the intrepid captain fell, having his leg fractured by a rifle-ball, when the pursuing savage raised the yell of triumph as he drew his tomahawk to give the fatal blow. But Kenton's unerring and quick-sighted aim dropped the warrior in his tracks before the tomahawk had done its work. Twice had Kenton saved the life of Boone that day; which drew from the intrepid captain, after being borne to the fort, and in the presence of the garrison, the well-earned and highly-prized plaudit of "Well done, Kenton! you have acted like a man this day!" ^[44]

[A.D. 1778.] During two subsequent sieges of Boonesborough, in which the garrison and inmates were reduced to great extremities, Kenton was a valuable and indefatigable defender; by whose skill as a hunter, and by whose fearless daring and perilous service the lives of the starving station were preserved.

The Indians, having dispersed in detached parties for miles around the fort, had killed all the cattle and stock of every kind; gardens and fields, with every other source of sustenance,

were destroyed; even the wild game for miles was consumed or driven off; and none dared to roam the forest in search of meat. It fell to Kenton's lot to risk his life for the preservation of the whole station. Accompanied by a few choice companions, in the dead of night, eluding the beleaguering host in the gloom of darkness, he plunged into the remote forest lying south and west beyond the lurking savages, in search of the deer and the elk.

Penetrating the remote forest under cover of the night, they sought for game at the distance of nearly fifteen miles from the station, where they remained for several days, until they had secured an ample supply. The meat thus procured was carefully cut from the bones and jerked, or dried in small pieces upon spits before a slow fire until greatly reduced in bulk. Loaded with this substantial nutriment, the hunters made their cautious way back to the fort, and, eluding the watchful savages in the darkness of the night, arrived safely at the fort, and were admitted by their friends. Supplies thus obtained were the means of securing the beleaguered stations from famine and starvation. This substitute for better fare was eaten or made into broth, without bread, salt, or vegetables. Such was the service which Simon Kenton rendered to the Kentucky stations in the years 1777 and 1778.

But Kenton's restless genius sought a wider field of action. In June, 1778, he was the first man from the Kentucky stations who volunteered to join the hazardous expedition under Colonel Clark against Kaskaskia; he was also the first man to enter Fort Gage, the man who surprised Governor Rocheblave in his bed, and received from him the surrender of the fort, with its sleeping garrison.

No sooner had the Illinois posts and country been subdued and quietly occupied by the Virginians, than Kenton, seeking more active adventures in Kentucky, was made the bearer of dispatches to Colonel Bowman at Harrodsburg, and undertook, in his route thither, to reconnoiter the British post at Vincennes, on the Wabash, in order to furnish Colonel Clark with correct information of its condition, force, and the feelings of the people. At Vincennes, after lying concealed by day and reconnoitering by night for three days and nights, he transmitted to Colonel Clark the true state of the post, informing him of its weakness and the disaffection of the people. Thirteen

days after his departure from Vincennes, he arrived in Harrodsburg and delivered his dispatches safe to Colonel Bowman. ^[45]

In August, Daniel Boone, having escaped from his long captivity among the Indians, proposed to lead an incursion against the Indian town of Chillicothe, upon the North Fork of Paint Creek, now occupied by the present town of Frankfort, in Ross county. The enterprise was one congenial with Kenton's taste, and his feelings were soon enlisted in the hazardous undertaking. In company with Boone and eighteen chosen companions, all armed with rifles, and supplied with knapsacks filled with parched corn for rations in their march, Kenton set out for the Indian town, distant one hundred and sixty miles. Within six miles of the town, Boone encountered a party of forty Indians, who were taken by surprise and routed, without loss to the assailants. But the fugitives, giving the alarm to the town, rendered surprise impracticable, and Boone ordered a speedy retreat. Kenton could not retire without another adventure. In company with Montgomery, a fearless Irishman, he laid in concealment near the town for two days and nights, until they succeeded in capturing two horses from the Indians, upon which they retreated to Boonesborough. ^[46]

In September following, Kenton planned an incursion to the Paint Creek towns in quest of horses. In company with Montgomery, and a companion named Clark, he succeeded in bringing off seven horses from the Indian town as far as the Ohio River. Here, having imprudently delayed two days in crossing his horses over to the Kentucky shore, he was overtaken by a party of Indians in pursuit. After a severe conflict, Kenton was overpowered and taken prisoner, Montgomery was killed, and Clark escaped.

The Indians were elated with their good fortune in capturing such a formidable antagonist and warrior, a future object for the vengeance of the Shawanese towns.

Kenton, deeming his case utterly hopeless, gave himself up to despair, in the fearful anticipation of all the horrors of Indian torture, and the protracted sufferings of the slow fire and the stake. Nor were these forebodings dispelled by the savage mirth over him, amid taunts and sallies of savage wit, while they ironically professed to admire his horse-stealing propensity, slapping him gently on the face with Montgomery's scalp.

The horrors of his captivity during nine months among the Indians may be briefly enumerated, but they can not be described. The sufferings of his body may be recounted, but the anguish of his mind, the internal torments of spirit, none but himself could know.

The first regular torture was the hellish one of Mazeppa. He was securely bound, hand and foot, upon the back of an unbroken horse, which plunged furiously through the forest, through thickets, briers, and brush, vainly endeavoring to extricate himself from the back of his unwelcome rider until completely exhausted. By this time Kenton had been bruised, lacerated, scratched, and mangled, until life itself was nearly extinct, while his sufferings had afforded the most unbounded ecstasies of mirth to his savage captors. This, however, was only a prelude to subsequent sufferings. ^[47]

Upon the route to the Indian towns, for the greater security of their prisoner, the savages bound him securely, with his body extended upon the ground, and each foot and hand tied to a stake or sapling; and to preclude the possibility of escape, a young sapling was laid across his breast, having its extremities well secured to the ground, while a rope secured his neck to another sapling. In this condition, nearly naked, and exposed to swarms of gnats and musquetoes, he was compelled to spend the tedious night upon the cold ground, exposed to the chilling dews of autumn.

On the third day, at noon, he was within one mile of old Chillicothe, the present site of Frankfort, where he was detained in confinement until the next day. Toward evening, curiosity had brought hundreds, of all sexes and conditions, to view the great Kentuckian. Their satisfaction at his wretched condition was evinced by numerous grunts, kicks, blows, and stripes, inflicted amid applauding yells, dancing, and every demonstration of savage indignation.

This, however, was only a prelude to a more energetic mode of torture the next day, in which the whole village was to be partakers. The torture of a prisoner is a school for the young warrior, to stir up his hatred for their white enemies, and keep alive the fire of revenge, while it affords sport and mirth to gratify the vindictive rage of bereaved mothers and relatives, by participating in the infliction of the agonies which he is compelled to suffer.

Running the gantlet was the torture of the next day, when nearly three hundred Indians, of both sexes and all ages, were assembled for the savage festival.

The ceremony commenced. Kenton, nearly naked, and freed from his bonds, was produced as the victim of the ceremony. The Indians were ranged in two parallel lines, about six feet apart, all armed with sticks, hickory rods, whips, and other means of inflicting pain. Between these lines, for more than half a mile, to the village, the wretched prisoner was doomed to run for his life, exposed to such injury as his tormentors could inflict as he passed. If he succeeded in reaching the council-house alive, it would prove an asylum to him for the present.

At a given signal, Kenton started in the perilous race. Exerting his utmost strength and activity, he passed swiftly along the line, receiving numerous blows, stripes, buffets, and wounds, until he approached the town, near which he saw an Indian leisurely awaiting his advance with a drawn knife in his hand, intent upon his death.

To avoid him, he instantly broke through the line, and made his rapid way toward the council-house, pursued by the promiscuous crowd, whooping and yelling like infernal furies at his heels. Entering the town in advance of his pursuers, just as he had supposed the council-house within his reach, an Indian was perceived leisurely approaching him, with his blanket wrapped around him; but suddenly he threw off his blanket, and sprung upon Kenton as he advanced. Exhausted with fatigue and wounds, he was thrown to the ground, and in a moment he was beset with crowds of savages, eager to strip him, and to inflict upon him each the kick or blow which had been avoided by breaking through the line. Here, beaten, kicked, and scourged until he was nearly lifeless, he was left to die.

A few hours afterward, having partially revived, he was supplied with food and water, and was suffered to recuperate for a few days, until he was able to attend at the council-house and receive the announcement of his final doom.

After a violent discussion, the council, by a large majority, determined that he should be made a public sacrifice to the vengeance of the nation, and the decision was announced by a burst of savage joy, with yells and shouts which made the

welkin ring. The place of execution was Wappatomica, the present site of Zanesfield, in Logan county, Ohio. On his route to this place, he was taken through Pickaway and Mackacheck, on the Scioto, where he was again compelled to undergo the torture of the gantlet, and was severely scourged through the line.

At this place, smarting under his wounds and bruises, he was detained several days, in order that he might recuperate preparatory to his march to Wappatomica. At length, being carelessly guarded, he determined, if possible, to make his escape from the impending doom. In this attempt he had proceeded two miles from the place of confinement, when he was met by two Indians on horseback, who in a brutal manner drove him back to the village. The last ray of hope had now expired, and, loathing a life of continual suffering, he in despair resigned himself to his fate.

His late attempt to escape had brought upon him a repetition of savage torture, which had well-nigh closed his sufferings forever, and he verily believed himself a "God-forsaken wretch." Taken to a neighboring creek, he was thrown in and dragged through mud and water, and submerged repeatedly, until life was nearly extinct, when he was again left in a dying state; but the constitutional vigor within him revived, and a few days afterward he was taken to Wappatomica for execution.

At Wappatomica he first saw, at a British trading-post, his old friend Simon Girty, in all the glory of his Indian life, surrounded by swarms of Indians, who had come to view the doomed prisoner and to witness his torture. Yet Girty suspected not the presence of his old acquaintance at Fort Pitt. Although well acquainted with Kenton only a few years before, his present mangled condition and his blackened face left no traces of recognition in Girty's mind. Looking upon him as a doomed victim, beyond the reach of pity or hope, he could view him only as the victim of sacrifice; but so soon as Kenton succeeded in making himself known to Girty, the hard heart of the latter at once relented, and sympathizing with his miserable condition and still more horrid doom, he resolved to make an effort for his release. His whole personal influence, and his eloquence, no less than his intrigue, were put in requisition for the safety of his fallen friend. He portrayed in

strong language the policy of preserving the life of the prisoner, and the advantage which might accrue to the Indians from the possession of one so intimately acquainted with all the white settlements. For a time Girty's eloquence prevailed, and a respite was granted; but suspicions arose, and he was again summoned before the council. The death of Kenton was again decreed. Again the influence of Girty prevailed, and through finesse he accomplished a further respite, together with a removal of the prisoner to Sandusky. ^[48]

Here, again, the council decreed his death, and again he was compelled to submit to the terrors of the gantlet, preliminary to his execution. Still Girty did not relax his efforts. Despairing of his own influence with the council, he secured the aid and influence of Logan, "the friend of white men." Logan interceded with Captain Druyer, a British officer, and procured, through him, the offer of a liberal ransom to the vindictive savages for the life of the prisoner. Captain Druyer met the council, and urged the great advantage such a prisoner would be to the commandant at Detroit, in procuring from him such information as would greatly facilitate his future operations against the rebel colonies. At the same time, appealing to their avarice, he suggested that the ransom would be proportionate to the value of the prisoner.

[A.D. 1779.] Captain Druyer guarantied the ransom of one hundred dollars for his delivery, and Kenton was delivered to him in charge for the commandant at Detroit. At the latter post Kenton remained a prisoner of war until June 3d, 1779, when, with the aid of Mrs. Harvey, a trader's wife, he made his escape, in company with Captain Nathan Bullitt and John Caffer, fellow-prisoners from Kentucky, and set out through the wilderness for the settlements on the Kentucky River, ^[49] having been so fortunate as to supply themselves each with a rifle.

To avoid hostile bands on the frequented route from Detroit to Kentucky, Kenton plunged into the western wilderness by way of the Wabash. Through this circuitous route, depending for sustenance upon the rifle alone, they pursued their lonely journey on foot without seeing the face of another human being until, after thirty-three days, they arrived safely at the Falls of the Ohio. Such was the termination of Simon

Kenton's sufferings and perils among the Indians in 1779; such, too, had been the renewed cause for eternal hostility to the Indian race.

[A.D. 1780-1792.] From this time until the close of the war Kenton was an active partisan in all the movements against the Indians in Kentucky, both offensive and defensive. First, we find him an active scout, with one companion, watching every movement of the Indian host under Colonel Bird, as they retired from the invasion of Kentucky in the summer of 1780, and faithfully reporting the same to his commander at Harrod's Station. Next, we find him commanding a choice company of riflemen in Colonel Clark's mounted regiment against the Miami towns in the autumn of the same year; and on the whole route, from the mouth of Licking, Kenton's company led the way, and conducted the invasion to the hostile towns upon the sources of the Little Miami and Scioto Rivers. Next, in 1782, we find him again a volunteer captain, commanding a choice company under Colonel Clark in his terrible incursion against the Indian towns upon the head waters of the Scioto and Miami Rivers. From 1784 to 1792 he was a frontier settler in the exposed region of Mason county, Kentucky, and took the command of all the defensive and offensive operations from his county against the savages. During these operations he was engaged in many fearful encounters with the savages, and once with the great, rising Shawanese warrior, Tecumseh himself.

[A.D. 1793.] Next we find him, in the autumn of 1793, acting major of a volunteer battalion of choice spirits from Kentucky, under General Scott, attached to General Wayne's army.

[A.D. 1795-1802.] After the close of the Indian war, Major Kenton retired to his farm near Washington, in Mason county, where he remained beloved by all for his generous and confiding friendship, and for his unbounded hospitality. His house was known as the stranger's home and the pioneer's welcome. He had become a wealthy frontier resident; possessed of extensive landed estates, a great number of cattle and horses, besides domestic stock of divers kinds, with abundant fields, he began to enjoy the comforts of a green old age in peace and competence. But a dark cloud was about to lower upon the evening of his life. Ignorant of the technicalities of law, and of the intricacies of land-titles, he had quietly enjoyed his possessions, unsuspicious of the requirements of law in the conveyance

of lands and the formalities requisite to complete inchoate titles, until he was involved in litigation. Defending imperfect titles to lands which he believed justly his own, his whole attention was engrossed in efforts to secure himself and family from poverty and dependence in his declining age. He was now in his forty-seventh year; his ardor and physical energy abated, his spirits depressed by misfortunes which had followed in close succession, he saw himself ejected from one piece of land after another, which he had defended against the savage in his youth, and for which he had shed his blood and endured tortures indescribable. One suit after another was decided against him; one tract of land after another was lost; and one bill of costs after another stripped him of his remaining property, until he was reduced to absolute poverty.

Such was the recompense which Kentucky awarded to her pioneers and early defenders. Such was her gratitude to Boone, Clark, and Kenton.

Thus was Major Simon Kenton, in the forty-seventh year of his age, refused a resting-place in the country which he had defended against the savage, and for which he had spent the prime of his life, and had done and suffered more than any other man in Kentucky.

Hence, in 1802, he emigrated to the Northwestern Territory, and settled on the frontier, near Urbana, in Champaign county of the present state of Ohio, in a region then scarcely reclaimed from the Indian warwhoop. Here, in advance of civilization, he settled, preferring the dangers of Indian warfare to the treachery of civilized man. He became a useful member of the frontier settlements, poor and retired, but beloved by his neighbors, who subsequently elected him to the office of brigadier-general in the new militia organization of the state. In 1810 he became a worthy member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and such he continued until his death.

[A.D. 1813.] But the patriotic fire of Kenton had not been extinguished by the ingratitude of Kentucky and the unfeeling avarice of her people. Again, in 1813, in the fifty-eighth year of his age, rejecting inglorious ease when his country required his services, his military ardor revived, and as a volunteer under Governor Shelby, he joined the Kentucky troops as they advanced through Urbana in their march to the northwestern frontier. Attached to the military family of Governor Shelby,

and true to his former spirit, he adhered to the fortune of the army, and closed his military career by his intrepid aid in achieving the glorious victory of the Thames, in Upper Canada.

[A.D. 1820.] In 1820 he removed to the head of Mad River, in Logan county, near the site of the old Indian town Wappatomica, one of the places where, in 1779, he had encountered the horrors of Indian torture. Here, in a beech forest, he took up his final residence, where he lived in humble poverty through the evening of his eventful life, relieved from actual want, during the last twelve years, by a mere pension of twenty dollars per month from the Federal government. On the 24th of June, 1836, he resigned his spirit to God, in peace with all men, and in hope of a glorious immortality. ^[50]

[A.D. 1836.] Thus died General Simon Kenton, in the eighty-second year of his age, a man who, as a western pioneer, passed through more dangers, privations, perils, and hairbreadth escapes than any man living or dead; a man whose iron nerve never quailed before danger, and whose patriotism warmed up the evening of his life. After a long life devoted to his country, having passed through a thousand dangers, and having outlived the sufferings of a thousand deaths, he was permitted to die quietly in his bed at home, in peace and resignation, in the midst of a flourishing settlement, where once was the center of the Indian power. His bones repose within the bosom of the state which sheltered and protected his declining age, and well does Ohio deserve to retain them.

[A.D. 1774-1776.] 3. Robert Patterson, a native of Pennsylvania, was one of the most enterprising pioneers of Kentucky. At the age of twenty-one years he served as a ranger six months on the frontiers of Pennsylvania, during Lord Dunmore's Indian war. ^[51] After the treaty of Camp Charlotte he was a pioneer on the Monongahela until the autumn of 1775, when, in company with John M'Clellan and six other pioneers, he descended the Ohio from Fort Pitt to Limestone Creek, and thence traversing the country by way of the Blue Licks, proceeded to the stations then erecting on the Kentucky River. Soon afterward he joined M'Clellan in the formation of a settlement near "Royal Spring," on the present site of Georgetown, in Scott county, Kentucky. Here he contributed to the erection of the first log house built in this portion of that great

state, and which was subsequently fortified and known as "M'Clellan's Station." Attacked by Indians on the 29th of December following, the feeble garrison, encumbered with women and children, and unable to withstand a siege, secretly left the fort by night, and were conducted by Patterson safely to the more secure settlements near Harrodsburg. Here he became an active defender of the feeble colony first formed in Kentucky, and was called by Major George Rogers Clark, in 1776, to assist him in forwarding ammunition from Fort Pitt to be distributed among the settlements on Kentucky River. ^[52]

In the month of October, in company with Major Clark and five other companions, he engaged in the perilous enterprise of conveying powder to the Kentucky stations. Descending the Ohio River from Fort Pitt in a large canoe, with five hundred pounds of powder in twenty-five kegs, this fearless party eluded the hostile savages infesting the river until they reached the mouth of Hocking River. Here they were furiously assailed by a party of Indians on shore, when Patterson was severely wounded in the arm, and two of his companions were killed. The remainder effected their escape with the precious treasure, and succeeded in safely reaching the "Three Islands," above Limestone Creek. Here the powder was securely concealed from the lurking Indians until an ample escort from "Harrod's Station" should be able to convey it safely to the settlements.

From this time he continued an active pioneer soldier, engaged in the defense of the Kentucky settlers until June, 1778, when, with ten comrades from the stations, he volunteered to accompany Colonel Clark in his expedition against the British posts in the Illinois country. In this expedition he was an active and efficient subaltern, and took a prominent part in the capture of Kaskaskia and Fort Gage, on the 4th of July, 1778. In September following, in company with seventy others, whose term of service had expired, he returned to Kentucky and entered into the militia service at Harrod's Station.

In April, 1779, as ensign, commanding twenty-five men, he repaired to the south fork of Elk-horn, and encamped on the present site of Lexington, in Fayette county. On the 17th of April a stockade was commenced, which was the first white man's residence in the beautiful region which now surrounds the city of Lexington.

About the middle of May following, he joined the expedition under Colonel Bowman against the Shawanese towns on the sources of the Little Miami, in which he distinguished himself as a valuable and efficient officer. In August, 1780, he again served as an officer under Colonel George Rogers Clark in the expedition which spread terror and devastation throughout the Shawanese towns, from the sources of the Scioto to those of the Wabash. From this time until the close of the Indian wars, he was one of the regular defenders of the Kentucky stations in all attacks, and in every invasion of the Indian country. In the terrible and disastrous battle of the Blue Licks, on the 19th of August, 1782, he was a prominent actor, ^[53] and greatly distinguished himself for his generous courage. For several years subsequent to the winter of 1790, he was an active pioneer in the Northwestern Territory in establishing the first settlements made on the north side of the Ohio, between the Great and Little Miamies.

4. George Rogers Clark, a man whose history has not yet been written, was one of the most prominent pioneer defenders of the whole West; confined to no particular section of country, his field of operation was the whole western settlements, over which he exercised a watchful care, which secured them from utter extermination and ruin. For decision, energy, forethought, good sense, and intrepidity, he will compare favorably with any general of the Revolutionary war. In the West, he was certainly the best soldier that ever led an army against the savages, and he knew how to control those uncontrollable beings better than any other man of his day. ^[54]

Clark, if not the first founder of Kentucky, was certainly a principal architect in rearing the superstructure. He was the guardian angel which stood over the infant colony from 1776 until 1785 with the aegis of his protection, and his name deserves to stand enrolled high among the worthies who have been honored as the fathers of the western country comprised in the eastern half of the Valley of the Mississippi, and his bones should lie side by side with those of Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton in the capital of Kentucky, under the monument which patriotism may rear to their memories.

He has been justly esteemed as the most extraordinary

military genius which Virginia has ever produced, although the field of his operations was the remote wilderness of the West. Judge Hall declares him to have been "a man of extraordinary talents and energy of character, and possessed of a military genius, which enabled him to plan with consummate wisdom, and to execute his designs with decision and promptitude." His great mind ^[55] readily comprehended the situation of the country; he made himself acquainted with the topography of the whole region and the localities of the enemy's forts, as well as the strength of their forces. He possessed the rare faculty of "penetrating the designs" of his antagonist; thus becoming informed of the actual condition and movements of the enemy, he could deduce his subsequent operations and his ulterior designs, and hence was enabled to anticipate and defeat, all his plans and movements before they were matured. In the execution of his plans, his movements were made with such precision and celerity, and conducted with such consummate judgment, that success was always doubly insured.

In his personal appearance Major Clark was commanding and dignified; hence, as Mr. Marshall observes, "His appearance was well calculated to attract attention; and it was rendered particularly agreeable by the manliness of his deportment, the intelligence of his conversation, and, above all, by the vivacity and boldness of his spirit for enterprise." ^[56]

Major Clark was a native of Virginia, and was engaged in the early defense of the western inhabitants of the Old Dominion; yet the most important portion of his history commences in 1776, when he was upon the Ohio frontier, engaged in the protection of the settlements against Indian hostilities consequent upon the war of the Revolution. He was upon the frontiers near the Monongahela and southward to the Kenhawa during the year 1776, and superintended the construction of Fort Fincastle for the protection of the inhabitants in the vicinity of Wheeling Creek, as well as other settlements north and south of that point, near the Ohio River. Subsequently he repaired to Kentucky, and superintended the construction and defense of the settlements in that quarter. Finding those settlements in a state of insecurity, and destitute of ammunition for defense, he procured from the executive of Virginia an appropriation of five hundred pounds of powder for the use of

the Kentucky stations. Repairing in person to Fort Pitt, he obtained the powder, and with six men conducted it safely through the Indian territory, down the Ohio to the "Three Islands," near Limestone Creek, where it was carefully concealed from the scrutiny of the savages, who roamed the whole country. Finding it too hazardous to advance with the precious treasure without a strong guard, he returned to Harrodsburg on foot, in company with Captain Jones, and by way of "M'Clellan's Station," for a sufficient escort to conduct it safely to the forts. Having procured the aid of Simon Kenton, Robert Patterson, and twenty-seven other hunters of like mold from the stations, he set out for the place of concealment, and returned a few days afterward, each man bearing his keg of powder.

[A.D. 1777.] Shortly afterward he received his commission from the governor, authorizing him to organize the militia of the Kentucky stations. The militia of Kentucky were accordingly organized into three companies: one at Boonesborough, under Captain Daniel Boone; one at Logan's Fort, under Captain Benjamin Logan; and one at Harrod's Station, under Captain James Harrod. This was the first militia organization in Kentucky. From this time, Major Clark, as the real father of Kentucky, continued to watch over the infant settlements with paternal solicitude, which never faltered, until the close of the Revolutionary difficulties. During his service on the western frontier, he was advanced to the rank of brigadier-general, and was actual commander-in-chief of all the Virginia forces on the Ohio.

His observing eye and his military perception soon discovered that, after Detroit, the posts at Vincennes and Kaskaskia were the grand sources of Indian hostilities, the points from which emanated the plans and operations of the western savages for the destruction of the Kentucky settlements. Having been perfectly convinced of this fact, he conceived the design of putting an end to these incursions by the capture or destruction of these posts. Concealing his designs, he proceeded to Williamsburg, the capital of Virginia, to concert with the governor and Executive Council a plan for accomplishing this object. His views and plans were approved by the governor, and measures were adopted to enable him to execute his designs. It was then that Major Clark was commissioned as

colonel, with authority to raise a battalion of seven companies in the western counties of Virginia for a secret expedition under his command.

Early in June his recruiting captains returned with their levies from the counties west of the Blue Ridge to Pittsburgh, and he descended the Ohio with the broken companies to "the Falls." Here, encamped on "Corn Island," he tarried some time, in hopes of recruiting his forces from the stations; but the secret expedition was unpopular in the settlements, which were entirely dependent on the protection of the militia, and it was deemed inexpedient to reduce their numbers, and thereby invite attack from the enemy.

With one hundred and fifty-three men, he descended the river below the mouth of the Tennessee; there concealing his boats, he advanced through the wilderness direct to Kaskaskia, and on the night of July 4th took possession of the British post and the town of Kaskaskia, without the loss of a man or the fire of a gun.

[A.D. 1778.] A few days sufficed to reduce the whole country to the allegiance of Virginia, and the posts to her arms. Before the lapse of many days he was master of all the British posts from the Wabash to the Upper Mississippi, had established the authority of Virginia, and had sent the governor and commandants prisoners of war to the State capital.

[A.D. 1779.] The following year, the British commandant at Detroit having advanced upon Vincennes and recovered the post, which had been without a garrison, Colonel Clark, with the same celerity as at Kaskaskia, advanced eastward to the Wabash, at the most wet and inclement season of the winter, and after an investment of thirty-six hours, captured the entire British force and recovered the place, sending Colonel Hamilton and his officers prisoners of war to Virginia.

[A.D. 1780.] Having supreme military command on the Lower Ohio and on the Mississippi, he established Fort Jefferson on the Mississippi, a few miles below the Ohio, thus extending the authority and the arms of Virginia to the remotest limit of British power in the West. For several years afterward he commanded on the Ohio above "the Falls," and became the admiration and the terror of the hostile tribes.

The history of Colonel Clark during the subsequent years, until 1786, is so intimately blended with that of Kentucky, that it is unnecessary here to trace his services further.

Previous section

Next section