Battle Between the Ranger and the Drake.
Congress accepted his services by appointing him first lieutenant. He proved himself so able that in the second year of the war he was put in command of two vessels, with which he captured sixteen prizes in six weeks.
In the following year he was appointed captain of the Ranger and sent to France with letters to Benjamin Franklin, who was then American commissioner at the French court, trying to secure aid for the American cause.
At that time English vessels were annoying American coasts by burning and destroying property. Jones got permission from Franklin to attack British coasts in the same way, and he was allowed to sail from France in his vessel with that purpose in view.
His plan was to sail along the western coast of England and set fire to the large shipping-yards at Whitehaven, with which harbor, you remember, he had become familiar in boyhood. He meant to burn all the three hundred vessels lying at anchor there. Although he succeeded in setting fire to only one large ship, he alarmed the people all along the coast. The warning was carried from town to town: “Beware of Paul Jones, the pirate!”
An English war vessel, the Drake, was sent out to capture the Ranger. As the Drake carried two more guns and a crew better drilled for fighting, it was thought she would make short work of the American ship in a fight. But it was just the other way, for after a battle of a single hour the English vessel surrendered, having lost many men. The American loss was only two men killed and six wounded.
After this brilliant victory the young captain put back to France. There he found great rejoicing among the people, whose good-will was more with America than with England. And as war had already broken out between France and England, the French King was quite willing to furnish Jones with a considerable naval force.
Accordingly, in August, 1779, Captain Jones put to sea once more, this time with a fleet of four vessels. He named his flag-ship Bon Homme Richard (bo-nom′-rē-shär′), after the Richard of Poor Richard’s Almanac, which you will remember Benjamin Franklin had written.
In this ship, which was old, he set out to cruise along the western coast of Ireland, in order to capture English merchant vessels. After reaching the southern point of Ireland, he cruised northward around Scotland and down its eastern coast. Then he sailed up and down the eastern coast of England, looking for merchant vessels.
At noon on the 23d of September Jones sighted a fleet of forty-two merchantmen, guarded by two English ships of war, all sailing from the north. He at once decided to make an attack. This took place early in the evening, the action being mainly between the Richard and the English man-of-war Serapis, which was a large ship, new and swift, and very much better than the Richard.
During the first hour the American vessel got the worst of the fight and “was leaking like a basket.” The English captain, feeling sure of victory, called out: “Has your ship struck?” Our hero, Paul Jones, shouted back: “I have not yet begun to fight!”
As the British vessel came alongside his own for a more deadly struggle, Jones with his own hands lashed the two together. Soon both were badly leaking, but the fighting went on as fiercely as ever. Presently both caught fire.
The Fight Between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis.
Then Jones turned his cannon upon the mainmast of the Serapis, and when it threatened to fall the English captain surrendered. So after all it was the English ship and not the American that “struck” the flag. But the Richard could not have held out much longer, for even before the surrender she had begun to sink.
When the English captain gave up his sword to John Paul Jones, he said: “It is very hard to surrender to a man who has fought with a halter around his neck.” You see, Captain Jones would have been hanged as a pirate, if taken. Jones replied: “Sir, you have fought like a hero. I hope your King will reward you.”
This was a desperate sea duel, and it lasted from half past seven in the evening until ten o’clock. It was important also in its results, for it won much needed respect for our flag and gave a wonderful uplift to the American cause. The victor, John Paul Jones, who was loaded with honors, from that day took rank with the great sea-captains of the world.
Tell all you can about the early life of John Paul Jones.
Why did the English call him a pirate when he was sailing along the British coasts in order to destroy property?
What was the outcome of the desperate sea duel between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis?
What do you admire about John Paul Jones?
Do not fail to locate every event upon the map.
CHAPTER VII
You remember that when the Last French War began, in 1756, the English colonists lived almost entirely east of the Alleghany Mountains. If you will look at your map, you will see how small a part of our present great country they occupied.
Even up to the beginning of the Revolution the Americans had few settlers west of the Alleghanies, and had done very little there to make good their claims to land.
Yet at the close of the war we find that their western boundary-line had been pushed back as far as the Mississippi River. How this was done we shall see if we turn our attention to those early hunters and backwoodsmen who did great service to our country as pioneers in opening up new lands.
One of the most famous of these was Daniel Boone. He was born in Pennsylvania, and, like many of the heroes of the Revolution, he was born in the “thirties” (1735).
As a boy, Daniel liked to wander in the woods with musket and fishing-rod, and was never so happy as when alone in the wild forest. The story is told that while a mere lad he wandered one day into the woods some distance from home and built himself a rough shelter of logs, where he would spend days at a time, with only his rifle for company.
Daniel Boone.
As he was a “good shot,” we may be sure he never went hungry for lack of food. The game which his rifle brought down he would cook over a pile of burning sticks. If you have done outdoor camp cooking, you can almost taste its woodland flavor. Then at night as he lay under the star-lit sky on a bed of leaves, with the skin of a wild animal for covering, a prince might have envied his dreamless slumber.
This free, wild life made him thoroughly at home in the forests, and trained him for the work he was to do later as a fearless hunter and woodsman.
When Daniel was about thirteen years old his father removed to North Carolina and settled on the Yadkin River. There the boy grew to manhood. After his marriage, at twenty, he built himself a hut far out in the lonely forest, beyond the homes of the other settlers.
But he was a restless man and looked with longing toward the rugged mountains on the west. Along the foothills other pioneer settlers and hunters had taken up their abode. And young Boone’s imagination leaped to the country beyond the mountains, where the forest stretched for miles upon miles, no one knew how far, to the Mississippi River. It was an immense wilderness teeming with game, and he wanted to hunt and explore in it.
He was twenty-five when he made the first “long hunt” we know about. At this time he went as far as what is now Boone’s Creek, in eastern Tennessee.
Other trips doubtless he made which increased his love for wandering; and in 1769, nine years after his first trip, having heard from a stray Indian of a wonderful hunting-ground far to the west, he started out with this Indian and four other men to wander through the wilderness of Kentucky.
For five weeks these bold hunters threaded their way through lonely and pathless mountain forests, facing many dangers from wild beasts and Indians.
But when, in June, they reached the blue-grass region of Kentucky, a beautiful land of stretching prairies, lofty forests, and running streams, they felt well repaid for all the hardships of their long journey. It was indeed as the Indian had said, alive with game. Buffaloes, wolves, bears, elk, deer, and wild beasts of many kinds abounded, making truly a hunter’s paradise.
They at once put up a log shelter, and for six months they hunted to their hearts’ content. Then one day two of the party, Boone himself and a man named Stewart, while off on a hunting expedition, were captured by an Indian band. For several days the dusky warriors carefully guarded the two white captives. But on the seventh night, having eaten greedily of game they had killed during the day, they fell into a sound sleep.
Boone’s Escape from the Indians.
Then Boone, who had been watching for this chance, arose quietly from his place among the sleeping Indians and gently wakened Stewart. The two crept stealthily away until out of hearing of the Indians, when, rising to their feet, they bounded off like deer through the dark woods to their own camp. But they found no one there, for the rest of the party had fled back home.
However, Boone and Stewart stayed on, and some weeks later they were pleasantly surprised when Daniel’s brother, Squire Boone, also a woodsman, unexpectedly arrived with another man and joined the camp. The four were quite contented, living and hunting together, until one day Stewart was shot by an Indian and killed. His death so frightened the man who had come over the mountains with Squire Boone, that the woods lost their charm for the poor fellow and he went back home.
So only the two brothers were left. They remained together three months longer in a little cabin in the forest. Then, as their powder and lead were getting low, Squire Boone returned to North Carolina for a fresh supply, leaving his brother to hold the hunting-ground.
Now Boone was left all alone. His life was continually in danger from the Indians. For fear of being surprised, he dared not sleep in camp, but hid himself at night in the cane-brake or thick underbrush, not even kindling a fire lest he should attract the Indians.
During these weeks of waiting for his brother, he led a very lonely life. In all that time he did not speak to a single human being, nor had he even a dog, cat, or horse for company. Without salt, sugar, or flour, his sole food was the game he shot or caught in traps.
How gladly he must have welcomed his brother, who returned at the end of two months, bringing the needed supplies! Other hunters also came from time to time, and Boone joined one party of them for a while.
After two years of his life in the woods he returned to his home on the Yadkin to bring out his wife and children.
By September, 1773, he had sold his farm and was ready with his family to go and settle in Kentucky. He had praised the new land so much that many others wished to go with him. So when he started there were, besides his wife and children, five families and forty men driving their horses and cattle before them. This group was the first to attempt settlement far out in the wilderness, away from the other settlers.
But while still on its way, the little company was set upon by a band of Indians near a narrow and difficult pass in the mountains. Six men were killed, among them Boone’s eldest son, and the cattle were scattered. This misfortune brought such gloom upon the party that all turned back for a time to a settlement on the Clinch River.
But Daniel Boone was one of those who would not give up. He said of himself that he was “ordained of God to settle the wilderness,” and in the end he carried out his unflinching purpose to make his home in the beautiful Kentucky region.
This region had already become well known by report east of the mountains. The Indians called it “a dark and bloody ground,” for, as an old chief told Boone, many tribes hunted and fought there, and the Indians had roamed over it for hundreds of years.
But none of the tribes really owned the land. So it was not possible to buy any part of it outright. Yet, to avoid strife, a friend of Boone’s, Richard Henderson, and a few others made treaties with the most powerful tribe, the Cherokees, who said that they might settle there.
As soon as it became certain that the Indians would not make trouble, Henderson sent Boone, in charge of thirty men, to open a pathway from the Holston River through Cumberland Gap to the Kentucky River.
With their axes the men chopped out a path through the dense undergrowth and cane-brakes broad enough for a pack-horse. You will be interested to know that this bridle-path was the beginning of the famous “Wilderness Road,” as it is still called. Later the narrow trail was widened into a highway for wagons, and it was along this way, rightly called a “wilderness road,” that in later years so many thousand settlers led their pack-trains over the mountains into Kentucky and Tennessee.
But that is taking a long look ahead! Just now we are thinking about the very first of these settlers, Daniel Boone and his company.
When they reached the Kentucky River, Boone and his followers built a fort on the left bank of the stream and called it Boonesborough. Its four walls consisted in part of the outer sides of log cabins, and in part of a stockade, some twelve feet high, made by setting deep into the ground stout posts with pointed tops. In all the cabins there were loopholes through which to shoot, and at each corner of the fort stood a loophole blockhouse. There were also two strong wooden gates on opposite sides of the fort.
Boonesborough.
After the fort was built, Boone went back to the Clinch River and brought on his wife and children. When they settled, it was springtime, and Kentucky was at its best. Trees were in leaf, the beautiful dogwood was in flower, and the woods were fragrant with the blossoms of May. Do you wonder that they loved their new home?
At first the cattle and horses were always driven into the fort at night. Later, however, every settler had a cabin in his own clearing, where he lived with his family and took care of his own stock. But even then in time of great danger all went to the fort, driving their animals inside its walls. This fort, with the outlying cabins, made the first permanent settlement in Kentucky.
Boone was a man you would have liked to know. Even the Indians admired him. He was tall and slender, with muscles of iron, and so healthy and strong that he could endure great hardship. Though quiet and serious, his courage never shrank in the face of danger, and men believed in him because he believed in himself, while at the same time his kind heart and tender sympathy won him lasting friendships. These vigorous and sterling qualities commanded respect everywhere.
As a rule he wore the Indian garb of fur cap, fringed hunting-shirt, moccasins and leggings, all made from the skins of wild animals he had taken. This dress best suited the wilderness life.
Of course, this life in a new country would not be without its exciting adventures. One day, some months after Boone’s family had come to Boonesborough, Boone’s daughter, with two girl friends, was on the river floating in a boat near the bank. Suddenly five Indians darted out of the woods, seized the three girls, and hurried away with them. In their flight the Indians observed the eldest of the girls breaking twigs and dropping them in their trail. They threatened to tomahawk her unless she stopped it. But, watching her chance, from time to time she tore off strips of her dress and dropped them as a clew for those she knew would come to rescue them.
When the capture became known, Boone, accompanied by the three lovers of the captured maidens and four other men from the fort, started upon the trail and kept up the pursuit until, early on the second morning, they discovered the Indians sitting around a fire cooking breakfast. Suddenly the white men fired a volley, killing two of the Indians and frightening the others so badly that they beat a hasty retreat without harming the girls.
Another exciting experience, which nearly caused the settlement to lose its leader, came about through the settlers’ need of salt. We can get salt so easily that it is hard to imagine the difficulty which those settlers, living far back from the ocean, had in obtaining this necessary part of their food. They had to go to “salt-licks,” as they called the grounds about the salt-water springs. The men would get the salt water from the springs and boil it until all the water evaporated and left the salt behind.
Boone with twenty-nine other men had gone, early in 1778, to the Blue Licks to make salt for the settlement. They were so successful that in a few weeks they were able to send back a load so large that it took three men to carry it. Hardly had they started, however, when the men remaining, including Boone, were surprised by eighty or ninety Indians, captured, and carried off to the English at Detroit.
For we must not forget that all this time, while we have been following Boone’s fortunes west of the Alleghanies, on the east side of those mountains the Revolution was being fought, and the Indians west of the Alleghanies were fighting on the English side. They received a sum of money for handing over to the English at Detroit any Americans they might capture, and that is why the Indians took Boone and his companions to that place.
But, strangely enough, the Indians decided not to give Boone up, although the English, realizing that he was a prize, offered five hundred dollars for him. The Indians admired him because he was a mighty hunter, and they liked him because he was cheerful. So they adopted him into the tribe and took him to their home.
Boone remained with them two months, making the best of the life he had to lead. But when he overheard the Indians planning to make an attack upon Boonesborough, he made up his mind to escape if possible and give his friends warning.
His own words tell the brave story in a simple way: “On the 16th of June, before sunrise, I departed in the most secret manner, and arrived in Boonesborough on the 20th, after a journey of one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had but one meal.” He could not get any food, for he dared not use his gun nor build a fire for fear his foes might find out where he was. He reached the fort in safety, and was of great service in beating off the attacking party. This is only one of the many narrow escapes of this fearless backwoodsman.
Another incident illustrates his quick wit. One day, while he was in a shed looking after some tobacco, four Indians with loaded guns appeared at the door. They said: “Now, Boone, we got you. You no get away any more. You no cheat us any more.” While they were speaking Boone had gathered up in his arms a number of dry tobacco leaves. Rubbing them to dust, he suddenly flung it into the faces of the Indians, filling their eyes and nostrils. Then, while they were coughing, sneezing, and rubbing their eyes, he escaped.
Boone Throwing Tobacco into the Eyes of the Indians Who Had Come to Capture Him.
These are but a few of Boone’s dangerous adventures. From them all he came out safe and for years continued to be the able leader of the settlers at Boonesborough.
There he remained until after Kentucky was admitted as a State into the Union (1791). Four years later he moved still farther west, led on by love for the wild, lonely life of the forest, a life which never lost its charm for him, even down to his last days.
He died in 1820, eighty-five years old, his long life covering a period of very great change in the growth of our country. By that time we had become a nation with broadly expanded boundaries.
It has been said that but for Daniel Boone the settlement of Kentucky could not have been made for several years. However this may be, we know that he was one of those fearless and daring men whose courage helped to establish that part of our country long known as “the West.”
What kind of boyhood had Daniel Boone?
Imagine yourself to have been in his place during the weeks when he was alone in the Kentucky forests; give an account of what happened.
Tell about his second capture by the Indians and his escape. Why did they admire him?
What did he do for Kentucky? What kind of man was he?
CHAPTER VIII
Another pioneer who lived in Boone’s day was James Robertson. Like Boone, he came from North Carolina, and he led the way for the settling of Tennessee very much as Boone did for Kentucky. The story of those days shows that he was one of the most forceful and successful of the early English pioneers who led out settlements west of the Alleghanies.
James Robertson.
Born in 1742, Robertson was ten years younger than Washington. But this boy’s early life was very different from young George Washington’s, for little James was born in a backwoods cabin, and his father and mother were too poor to send him to school. So he grew up to manhood without being able to read and write.
But he wanted to study, and was persevering and brave enough to learn the letters of the alphabet and how to spell and to write after he had grown to manhood. We can be sure, therefore, that James was the right sort of boy, and that he would have mastered books if he had been given the chance, just as he mastered the wilderness in later life. But it is as a backwoodsman that we first come to know Robertson and learn why he was trusted and followed so willingly.
Although not tall, he was vigorous and robust, having fair complexion, dark hair, and honest blue eyes that met one’s glance squarely. His frank, serious face, his quiet manner, and his coolness and daring in the midst of danger gave him a mastery over others such as it is given but few men to have.
Like Boone, he was noted as a successful hunter; but hunting and exploring were not with him the chief motives for going into the wilderness. He was first of all a pioneer settler who was seeking rich farming lands with near-by springs, where he could make a good home for his family and give his children advantages which he himself had never enjoyed.
Led by this motive, he left his home in North Carolina to seek his fortune among the forest-clad mountains, whose summits he could see far-away to the west. With no companion but his horse and no protection but his rifle, he slowly and patiently made his way through the trackless woods, crossing mountain range after mountain range, until he came to the region where the rivers flowing westward had their beginning.
Much to his surprise, he found here on the Watauga River some settlers from Virginia, who gave him a kindly welcome. He stayed long enough to plant a crop of corn and see it grow up and ripen.
Then, late in the autumn, having decided that this was a good place for his family, he started back home. His faithful horse was his only companion. Some corn in his leather wallet was all the food he carried. He trusted his rifle for the rest.
Early Settlements in Kentucky and Tennessee.
All went well for a time, but in the depth of the pathless forest he missed his way, and the mountains became so steep and rough that his horse could not get across. Imagine his sorrow when, to save his own life, he had to part from his dumb friend and start on alone.
Other misfortunes befell him. The little store of corn that he had brought with him gave out, and his powder became so wet that it was useless for shooting game. So almost his only food for fourteen days was such nuts and berries as he could gather in his desperate search.
He was near death by starvation when he chanced to meet two hunters. They gave him food and asked him to join them. Then, allowing him to take turns in riding their horses, they helped him to reach home in safety.
You might think that this bitter experience would have made Robertson unwilling to risk another journey back through the wilderness. But, as we have said, he was not easily thwarted, and the thought of what lay beyond the mountains made him hold the cost light.
He gave such glowing accounts of the wonderful country he had seen that by spring sixteen families were ready to go with him to make their home there.
Let us in imagination join this group of travellers as it starts out to cross the mountains. Each family has its pack-horse—perhaps a few families have two—carrying household goods. These are not so bulky as ours to-day, for pioneer life is simple, and the people have at most only what they need. There are, of course, some rolls of bedding and clothing, a few cooking utensils, a few packages of salt and seed corn, and a flask or two of medicine. The pack-horse carries also the mother and perhaps a very small child or two. The boys who are old enough to shoulder rifles march in front with their father, ready to shoot game for food or to stand guard against Indians. Some of the older children drive the cows which the settlers are taking along with them.
After reaching the place selected for their settlement, the younger children are set to clearing away the brush and piling it up in heaps ready for burning. The father and the elder sons, who are big enough to wield an axe, lose no time in cutting down trees and making a clearing for the log cabin. All work with a will, and soon the cabin is ready.
Living-Room of the Early Settler.
The furniture, like the cabin itself, is rude and simple. A bedstead is set up in a corner, a washstand is placed near by, and a few three-legged stools are put here and there; and of course there is a table to eat at. Places are quickly found for the water bucket, used to bring water from the stream, the gourd dipper with which to fill it, and other small utensils; while pegs driven into the wall in convenient places hold clothes, rifles, skins, and the like.
Grinding Indian Corn.
If our pioneers are well-to-do, there may be tucked away in some pack a wool blanket, but usually the chief covering on the bed is the dried skin of some animal: deer, bear, or perhaps buffalo.
There is plenty of food, though of course it is plain and simple, consisting mostly of game. Instead of the pork and beef which are largely eaten in the east, we shall find these settlers making their meal of bear’s meat or venison.
For flour corn-meal is used. Each family has a mill for grinding the kernels into meal, while for beating it into hominy they use a crude mortar, made perhaps by burning a hole in the top of a block of wood.
Bread-making is a simpler matter with them than with us, for a dough of corn-meal is mixed on a wooden trencher and then either baked in the ashes and called ash-cake or before the fire on a board and called johnny-cake. Corn-meal is also made into mush, or hasty pudding; and when the settler has cows, mush-and-milk is a common dish, especially for supper.
For butter the settlers use the fat of bear’s meat or the gravy of the goose. Instead of coffee, they make a drink of parched rye and beans, and for tea they boil sassafras root.
Every backwoodsman must be able to use the rifle to good effect, for he has to provide his own meat and protect himself and his family from attack. He must be skilful also in hiding, in moving noiselessly through the forests, and in imitating the notes and calls of different beasts and birds. Sharp eyes and ears must tell him where to look for his game, and his aim must be swift and sure.
But most important of all, he must be able to endure hardship and exposure. Sometimes he lives for months in the woods with no food but meat and no shelter but a lean-to of brush or even the trunk of a hollow tree into which he may crawl.
Deer and bear are the most plentiful game; but now and then there is an exciting combat with wolves, panthers, or cougars, while prowling Indians keep him ever on his guard. The pioneer must be strong, alert, and brave.
Each family depends upon itself for most of the necessaries of life. Each member has his own work. The father is the protector and provider; the mother is the housekeeper, the cook, the weaver, and the tailor. Father and sons work out-of-doors with axe, hoe, and sickle; while indoors the hum of the spinning-wheel or the clatter of the loom shows that mother and daughters are busily doing their part.
There are some articles, however, like salt and iron, which the settlers cannot always get in the backwoods. These they must obtain by barter. So each family collects all the furs it can, and once a year, after the harvest is gathered, loads them on pack-horses, which are driven across the mountains to some large trading town on the seacoast. There the skins are traded for the needed iron or salt.
Often many neighbors plan to go together on such a journey. Sometimes they drive before them their steers and hogs to find a market in the east.
A bushel of salt costs in these early days a good cow and calf. Now, that is a great deal to pay; and furthermore, as each small and poorly fed pack-animal can carry but two bushels, salt is a highly prized article. Since it is so expensive and hard to get, it has to be used sparingly by the mountaineers. Therefore the housewife, instead of salting or pickling her meat, preserves or “jerks” it by drying it in the sun or smoking it over the fire.
The Tennessee settler, like Boone’s followers in Kentucky, dresses very much like the Indians, for that is the easiest and most fitting way in which to clothe himself for the forest life he leads. And very fine do many stalwart figures appear in the fur cap and moccasins, the loose trousers, or simply leggings of buckskin, and the fringed hunting-shirt reaching nearly to the knees. It is held in by a broad belt having a tomahawk in one side and a knife in the other.
A Kentucky Pioneer’s Cabin.
While this free outdoor life develops strong and vigorous bodies, there is not much schooling in these backwoods settlements. Most boys and girls learn very little except reading and writing and very simple ciphering, or arithmetic. If there are any schoolhouses at all, they are log huts, dimly lighted and furnished very scantily and rudely.
The schoolmaster, as a rule, does not know much of books, and is quite untrained as a teacher. His discipline, though severe, is very poor. And he is paid in a way that may seem strange to you. He receives very little in cash, and for the rest of his wages he “boards around” with the families of the children he teaches, making his stay longer or shorter according to the number of children in school.
In many ways, as you see, the life of the pioneer child, while it was active and full of interest, was very different from yours. He learned, like his elders, to imitate bird calls, to set traps, to shoot a rifle, and at twelve the little lad became a foot soldier. He knew from just which loophole he was to shoot if the Indians attacked the fort, and he took pride in becoming a good marksman. He was carefully trained, too, to follow an Indian trail and to conceal his own when on the war-path—for such knowledge would be very useful to him as a hunter and fighter in the forests.
Such was the life of these early woodsmen and their families, and to this life Robertson and those who went out with him soon became accustomed. On their arrival at the Watauga River the newcomers mingled readily with the Virginians already on the ground.
Robertson soon became one of the leading men. His cabin of logs stood on an island in the river, and is said to have been the largest in the settlement. It had a log veranda in front, several rooms, a loft, and best of all, a huge fireplace made of sticks and stones laid in clay, in which a pile of blazing logs roared on cold days, making it a centre of good cheer as well as of heat. To us it would have been a most inviting spot for a summer holiday.
Robertson was very prosperous and successful at Watauga; but in 1799, after ten years of leadership at this settlement, a restless craving for change and adventure stole over him, and he went forth once more into the wilderness to seek a new home still deeper in the forest.
The place he chose was the beautiful country lying along the great bend of the Cumberland River, where Nashville now stands. Many bold settlers were ready and even eager to join Robertson in the new venture, for he was a born leader.
A small party went ahead early in the spring to plant corn, so that the settlers might have food when they arrived in the autumn. Robertson and eight other men, who made up the party, left the Watauga by the Wilderness Road through Cumberland Gap, crossing the Cumberland River. Then, following the trail of wild animals in a southwesterly direction, they came to a suitable place.
Here they put up cabins and planted corn, and then, leaving three men to keep the buffaloes from eating the corn when it came up, the other six returned to Watauga.
In the autumn two parties started out for the new settlement. One of these, made up mostly of women and children, went by water in flatboats, dugouts, and canoes, a route supposed to be easier though much the longer of the two. Whether it was easier, we shall see. The other party, including Robertson himself, went by land, hoping thus to reach the place of settlement in time to make ready for those coming by water.
Robertson and his men arrived about Christmas. Then began a tedious four months of waiting for the others. It was springtime again, April 24, when they at last arrived. Their roundabout route had taken them down the Tennessee River, then up the Ohio, and lastly up the Cumberland. The Indians in ambush on the river banks had attacked them many times during their long and toilsome journey, and the boats were so slow and clumsy that it was impossible for them to escape the flights of arrows.
But when they arrived, past troubles were soon forgotten, and with good heart, now that all were together, the settlers took up the work of making homes.
However, difficulties with the Indians were not over. The first company of settlers that arrived had been left quite unmolested. But now, as spring opened, bands of Indian hunters and warriors began to make life wretched for them all. There is no doubt that the red men did not like to have the settlers kill the game, or scare it off by clearing up the land; but the principal motive for the attacks was the desire for scalps and plunder, just as it was in assailing other Indian tribes.
The Indians became a constant terror. They killed the settlers while working in the clearings, hunting game, or getting salt at the licks. They loved to lure on the unwary by imitating the gobbling of a turkey or the call of some wild beast, and then pounce upon their human prey.
As the corn crop, so carefully planned, had been destroyed by heavy freshets in the autumn, the settlers had to scour the woods for food, living on nuts and game. By the time winter had set in, they had used up so much of their powder and bullets that Robertson resolved to go to Kentucky for more.
He went safely, though quite alone, and returned on the evening of January 15 (1780) with a good supply of ammunition. You may be sure he had a hearty welcome in the fort, where all were gathered. There was much to talk about, and they sat up till late into the night. All went to bed, tired and sleepy, without any fear. For at that season of the year the red men seldom molested them; and no sentinels were left on guard.
Soon all were in deep slumber except Robertson, whose sense of lurking danger would not let him sleep. He kept feeling that enemies might be near. And he was right. For just outside the fort, prowling in the thick underbrush and hidden by the great trees, there lay in ambush a band of painted warriors, hungry for plunder, eager for scalps.
They creep forward to their attack. They are very cautious, for a bright moon lights up the blockhouses and the palisaded fort.
Suddenly a moving shadow falls upon the moonlit clearing outside the fort. An Indian is stealthily crossing from the dark woods to the wall. There he crouches close, to be out of sight of the inmates of the fort. Another crouching figure, and another. One by one every feathered warrior crosses and keeps close to the palisade.
The next move is to slide cautiously the strong bar and undo the chain which fastens the gate. It is done skilfully enough, but the chain clanks or the hinges creak. The wakeful Robertson springs quickly to his feet. His keen eyes catch sight of the swift, dark figures, moving stealthily into the fort.
“Indians!” he shouts, and off goes his rifle. Instantly every settler has snatched the gun lying at his side. In a second the shots ring out; and the Indians flee through the gate to disappear into the leafy woods. But they have lost one man, whom Robertson has shot, and have killed or wounded three or four of the settlers. Robertson, by keen watchfulness, has saved the fort from capture and his comrades from probable torture or death.
This was only one of many occasions in which Robertson’s leadership saved the day. After the Revolution ended (1783) the Indians were not so unfriendly, for the English were no longer paying them for scalps. People, therefore, became less timid about crossing the mountains, and a large number migrated from Virginia and North Carolina to the Tennessee settlement and made their homes at Nashville. As numbers grew larger, dangers became less.
By this time Robertson had become well known through the successful planting of his two settlements, and for the wisdom and bravery with which he managed them. As a reward for his valuable services, Washington later on (1790) made him a general in the army. In 1814 he died.
He is the kind of man we like to think of as a pioneer in the making of our history. Sturdy and self-reliant, strong and fearless, he cheerfully faced the unending struggle with the hard conditions of those early days. Though his life was narrow, it cut deep in its loyalty to friends and country.
What can you tell of Robertson’s boyhood?
Imagine yourself as one of a group of travellers on the way to Kentucky or Tennessee, and tell all you can about the journey.
Tell all you can about the food, clothing, shelter, and other conditions of life in these backwoods settlements.
What sort of training did the pioneer boy receive in school and at home?
Why did Robertson plant a settlement at the place where Nashville now stands?
How did he save this settlement from the Indians? What do you admire about him?
Are you making frequent use of the map?
CHAPTER IX
Another daring leader who did much to build up the settlements in Tennessee was John Sevier.
John Sevier.
Born in 1745, Sevier was but three years younger than Robertson, and was closely associated with him in later life. Sevier’s birthplace was in the western part of Virginia, but while he was still a young boy, the family was driven from their home by the Indians and went to Fredericksburg, Virginia. There he went to the same school which George Washington had attended not many years before.
John’s mother had taught him to read, and at school he learned some useful things; still he was not fond of books, and learned most from people and what was going on about him.
He left school when he was sixteen and married before he was seventeen. About six miles from his father’s house he put up a building which was dwelling, storehouse, and fort all in one. Here on the frontier he carried on a thriving trade with settlers and Indians, and was so successful that by the time he was twenty-six he was looked upon as a rich man.
He was attractive in appearance, being tall, slender, and erect, with frank blue eyes, fair skin, and brown hair. He was a man of commanding presence, and his athletic figure seemed well suited to the fringed hunting-suit which every pioneer wore.
His merry disposition and great charm of manner easily won many friends; and these he kept by his natural kindness and courtesy. He was never happier than when entertaining generously those who came to his home. Yet these gentle and lovable qualities did not prevent him from being a brave and skilful warrior, who could carry terror to the hearts of his foes.
It was while he was engaged in his trading business that Sevier heard of Robertson’s settlement in the west, and became interested in it as a possible home for himself and his family. In 1772 he decided to ride through the forests to the Watauga settlement and find out what kind of place it was.
Alone over the mountains and through the woods he made the journey. At the journey’s end, when he met Robertson, they became friends at once, for in spirit and aims they were much alike. Both were brave and fearless, and both were seeking better homes for their families.
Sevier decided to join the settlement on the Watauga, and went back to bring his wife and two children. Returning with them, he entered heartily into the common life of the frontier, with its many hardships and pleasures, and soon became a prominent man in the little colony.
For a time after their arrival the settlement was not much troubled by the Indians. The Cherokees had given their consent to have the land taken up, and all went well for a period.
But, as we have already seen in the case of Boone, the breaking out of the Revolution, and the action of the British in arming the Indians with guns and rewarding them for bringing in captives, disturbed this peace and stirred up the tribes against the backwoodsmen.
The Cherokees then broke their agreement with the settlers and in large numbers made bold and murderous attacks upon the many back-country settlements in southwestern Virginia, the eastern Carolinas, northwestern Georgia, and what is now eastern Tennessee.
As Watauga was the nearest settlement to the Cherokee towns and villages, it was likely to suffer most from the attack. Robertson commanded the fort, with Sevier as his lieutenant. Only forty or fifty men were in the fort when it was attacked, although it was crowded with women and children. But these few men were resolute, well armed, and on their guard.
It was in the gray light of the early morning that the Indians stole up for the attack. But a friendly squaw had given warning of danger, and the settlers were ready. The loopholes opened upon the Indians and they were at once beaten back with loss. This was the beginning of a long, dreary siege. As the stockade was too strong to be taken by an assault, the Indians tried to starve the colonists out. For about three weeks they lurked about so that the people within the fort dared not go outside for food, and had to live mostly on parched corn.
It was a weary time. As you may imagine, all became very tired of that diet and very impatient at being kept shut up within the palisades for so long, and from time to time some one would venture out, heedless of warning and of danger. In running this risk, three or four men were shot by the Indians, and one boy was carried off to an Indian village and burned at the stake. A woman also was captured.
You will be interested in the thrilling experience of another woman. Her name was Kate Sherrill. She was tall and beautiful, graceful and gentle in manner, and, as we shall see, not lacking courage.
One day, taking a pitcher to get water from the river, she had ventured some distance from the fort, when Indians dashed out of the forest and sprang toward her. Seeing her danger, she darted swiftly back, with her bloodthirsty foes close at her heels.
It was a race for life, and she knew it. There was not time to reach the gate; so she ran the shortest way to the fort, caught hold of the top of the pickets, and, by an almost superhuman effort sprung over to the other side. She did not fall to the ground as she expected, but into the arms of John Sevier, for he was standing at a loophole close by, and caught her. He had witnessed her danger and helped her to escape by shooting the Indian closest in the chase. A romance is connected with this, for we are told that John Sevier, who was then a young widower of thirty-one, married Kate Sherrill during the siege.
Although the Indian braves were eager for the scalps of the Watauga settlers, they failed to capture the fort and finally went away, just as they did from the neighboring settlements. For a while, but only for a while, the pioneers were left free from Indian ravages.
In spite of the danger, however, daring men kept coming to join the pioneers at the Watauga settlements. Sevier continued to be a leading man in that backwoods region, and when, some years later, Robertson, as you remember, left Watauga to go to the Cumberland valley, Sevier became the most prominent man in the colony.
He was so prosperous that he could surround himself with much comfort. He built a rambling, one-story house on the Nolichucky Creek, a branch of the French Broad River. It was the largest in the settlement and was noted for the lavish entertainments given there, for Sevier was the same generous host as of old. His house consisted of two groups of rooms connected by a covered porch. Sevier with his family lived in one of the groups, and housed his guests in the other. There were large verandas and huge fireplaces, in which, during cold weather, cheerful wood-fires blazed.