_Conclusion._
Colonel Boone Appeals to Congress--Complimentary Resolutions of the
Legislature of Kentucky.--Death of Mrs. Boone.--Catholic
Liberality.--Itinerant Preachers.--Grant by Congress to Colonel
Boone.--The Evening of his Days.--Personal Appearance.--Death and
Burial.--Transference of the Remains of Mr. and Mrs. Boone to Frankfort,
Kentucky.
Colonel Boone having lost all his property, sent in a memorial, by the
advice of his friends, to the Legislature of Kentucky, and also another
to Congress. Kentucky was now a wealthy and populous State, and was not
at all indisposed to recognise the invaluable services she had received
from Colonel Boone. In allusion to these services Governor Moorehead
said:
"It is not assuming too much to declare, that without Colonel Boone, in
all probability the settlements could not have been upheld; and the
conquest of Kentucky might have been reserved for the emigrants of the
nineteenth century."
What obstacle stood in the way of a liberal grant of land by the
Kentucky Legislature we do not know. We simply know that by a unanimous
vote of that body, the following preamble and resolution were passed:
"The Legislature of Kentucky, taking into view the many eminent services
rendered by Colonel Boone, in exploring and settling the western
country, from which great advantages have resulted, not only to this
State, but to this country in general, and that from circumstances over
which he had no control, he is now reduced to poverty; not having, so
far as appears, an acre of land out of the vast territory he has been a
great instrument in peopling; believing also that it is as unjust as it
is impolitic, that useful enterprise and eminent services should go
unrewarded by a Government where merit confers the only distinction; and
having sufficient reason to believe that a grant of ten thousand acres
of land, which he claims in Upper Louisiana, would have been confirmed
by the Spanish Government, had not said territory passed by cession into
the hands of the General Government; therefore
"Resolved by the General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Kentucky: That
our Senators in Congress be requested to make use of their exertions to
procure a grant of land in said territory to said Boone, either the ten
thousand acres to which he appears to have an equitable claim, from the
grounds set forth to this Legislature, by way of confirmation, or to
such quantity in such place as shall be deemed most advisable by way of
donation."
While this question was pending before Congress, Colonel Boone met with
the heaviest grief he had thus far encountered on his stormy pilgrimage.
In the month of March, 1813, his wife, whom he tenderly loved, died at
the age of seventy-six. She had been one of the best of wives and
mothers, seeking in all things to conform to the wishes of her husband,
and aid him in his plans. She was a devoted wife and a loving mother.
Colonel Boone selected upon the summit of a ridge the place for her
burial, and marked out the spot for his own grave by her side.
We have no means of knowing what were the religious views which
sustained Mrs. Boone in her dying hour. Her life was passed in the
discharge of the humble duties of a home in the wilderness, and she had
no biographer. But we do know that the religion of Jesus had penetrated
many of these remote cabins, and had ennobled the lives of many of these
hardy pioneers.
Under the Spanish Government, the Roman Catholic Religion was the
established religion of the province, and none other was openly
tolerated. Still, the authorities were so anxious to encourage
emigration from the United States, that they avoided any rigorous
enforcement of the law. Each emigrant was required to be "a good
Catholic," _un bon Catholique_. But by connivance of the authorities,
only a few general questions were asked, such as:
"Do you believe in Almighty God? in the Holy Trinity? in the true
Apostolic Church? in Jesus Christ our Saviour? in the Holy Evangelists?"
The ceremony was closed by the declaration that the applicant was _un
bon Catholique_. Thus many Protestant families entered the Spanish
territory, and remained undisturbed in their religious principles.
Protestant clergymen crossed over the Mississippi river and, unmolested,
preached the gospel in the log cabins of the settlers. The Catholic
priests received their salaries from the Spanish crown, and no taxes for
religion were imposed.
The Reverend John Clark, a very zealous Christian minister, made monthly
excursions to the Spanish territory. The commandant at St. Louis, Mr.
Trudeau, would take no notice of his presence till the time when he knew
that Mr. Clark was about to leave. Then he would send a threatening
message ordering him to leave within three days. One of the emigrants,
Mr. Murich, of the Baptist persuasion, who knew the commandant very
well, petitioned for permission to hold religious meetings at his house
and to have Mr. Clark preach. Mr. Trudeau replied:
"You must not put a bill upon your house, or call it a church. But if
any of your friends choose to meet at your house, sing, pray, and talk
about religion, you will not be molested provided you continue, as I
suppose you are, _un bon Catholique_."
Thus, in reality, there was scarcely any restraint in those remote
regions, even under the Spanish regime, imposed upon religious freedom.
Christian songs, the penitential and the triumphant, often ascended,
blended with prayers and praises from these lonely and lowly homes in
the wilderness. Thus characters were formed for heaven, and life was
ennobled, and often far more of true nobility of soul and more real and
satisfying enjoyment were found in those log huts, illumined only by the
blaze of the pitch pine knot, than Louis XIV. and his courtiers ever
experienced amidst the splendors and the luxuries of Versailles and of
Marly.
We do not know that Colonel Boone ever made a public profession of his
faith in Christ, though somewhere we have seen it stated that he died an
honored member of the Methodist Church. It is certain that the religious
element predominated in his nature. He was a thoughtful, serious,
devout, good man. He walked faithfully in accordance with the light and
the privileges which were conferred upon him in his singularly
adventurous life.
Colonel Boone was seventy-nine years of age when Congress conferred upon
him a grant of eight hundred and fifty acres of land. He had never
repined at his lot, had never wasted his breath in unavailing murmurs.
He contentedly took life as it came, and was ever serene and cheerful.
But this grant of land, though it came so late, greatly cheered him. He
was no longer dependent upon others. He had property rapidly increasing
in value to leave to the children and the grand-children he so tenderly
loved. His aged limbs would no longer allow him to expose himself to the
vicissitudes of hunting, and he took up his abode with one of his sons,
enjoying, perhaps, as serene and happy an old age as ever fell to the
lot of mortals. His conversation often gathered charmed listeners around
him, for he had a very retentive memory, and his mind was crowded with
the incidents of his romantic career. It is said that at this period of
his life an irritable expression never escaped his lips. His
grand-children vied with each other in affectionate attentions to one
whom they ardently loved, and of whose celebrity they were justly proud.
Colonel Galloway, the gentleman whose two daughters were captured, with
one of the daughters of Colonel Boone, in a boat by the Indians, which
event our readers will recall to mind, visited Colonel Boone in Missouri
about this time. He gives a very pleasing description of the gentle and
genial old man, as he then found him.
His personal appearance was venerable and attractive, very neatly clad
in garments spun, woven, and made in the cabin. His own room consisted
of a cabin by itself, and was in perfect order. "His countenance was
pleasant, calm, and fair, his forehead high and bold, and the soft
silver of his hair in unison with his length of days. He spoke feelingly
and with solemnity of being a creature of Providence, ordained by heaven
as a pioneer in the wilderness to advance the civilization and the
extension of his country. He professed the belief that the Almighty had
assigned to him a work to perform, and that he had only followed the
pathway of duty in the work he had pursued; that he had discharged his
duty to God and his country by following the direction of Providence."
His stormy day of life had passed away into an evening of unusual beauty
and serenity.
Still he was continually busy, engaged in innumerable acts of kindness
for his neighbors and his friends. He could repair rifles, make and
carve powder horns of great beauty, and could fashion moccasins and
snowshoes of the most approved patterns. His love for the solitude of
the wilderness, and for the excitement of the hunter's life, continued
unabated to the last. He loved to cut tender slices of venison, and to
toast them upon the end of his ramrod over the glaring coals of his
cabin fire, finding in that repast a treat more delicious than any
gourmand ever yet experienced in the viands of the most costly
restaurants of the Palais Royal, or the Boulevard.
Upon one occasion he could not resist the impulse of again going
hunting, though in the eighty-second year of his age. Exacting from his
friends the promise that should he die, his remains should be brought
back and buried by the side of those of his wife, he took a boy with him
and went to the mouth of the Kansas River, where he remained two weeks.
Returning from this, his last expedition, he visited his youngest son,
Major Nathan Boone, who had reared a comfortable stone house in that
remote region, to which emigrants were now rapidly moving. Here he died
after an illness of but three days, on the 26th day of September, 1820.
He was then eighty-six years of age.
Soon after the death of his wife, Colonel Boone made his own coffin,
which he kept under his bed awaiting the day of his burial. In this
coffin he was buried by the side of his wife. Missouri, though very
different from the Missouri of the present day, was no longer an
unpeopled wilderness. The Indians had retired; thousands of emigrants
had flocked to its fertile plains, and many thriving settlements had
sprung up along the banks of its magnificent streams. The great respect
with which Colonel Boone was regarded by his fellow-citizens, was
manifest in the large numbers who were assembled at his burial. The
Legislature of Missouri, which chanced then to be in session, adjourned
for one day, in respect for his memory, and passed a resolve that all
the members should wear a badge of mourning for twenty days. This was
the first Legislature of the new State.
Colonel Boone was the father of nine children, five sons and four
daughters. His two eldest sons were killed by the Indians. His third
son, Daniel Morgan Boone, had preceded his father in his emigration to
the Upper Louisiana, as it was then called, and had taken up his
residence in the Femme Osage settlement. He became a man of influence
and comparative wealth, and attained the advanced age of fourscore.
Jesse, the fourth son, also emigrated to Upper Louisiana about the year
1806, where he died a few years after. The youngest son, Nathan, whose
privilege it was to close his father's eyes in death, had found a home
beyond the Mississippi; he became a man of considerable note, and
received the commission of Captain in the United States Dragoons. The
daughters, three of whom married, lived and died in Kentucky.
In the meantime Kentucky, which Boone had found a pathless wilderness,
the hunting ground of Indians who were scarcely less wild and savage
than the beasts they pursued in the chase, was rapidly becoming one of
the most populous, wealthy and prosperous States in the Union. Upon the
eastern bank of the Kentucky River, the beautiful city of Frankfort had
risen surrounded by remarkably romantic and splendid scenery. It had
become the capital of the State, and was situated about sixty miles from
the entrance of the Kentucky into the Ohio River. Many of the houses
were tastefully built of brick or of marble, and the place was noted for
its polished, intelligent, and hospitable society.
It was but a few miles above Frankfort upon this same river that Colonel
Boone had reared the log fort of Boonesborough, when scarcely a white
man could be found west of the Alleghanies. In the year 1845, the
citizens of Frankfort, having, in accordance with the refinements of
modern tastes, prepared a beautiful rural cemetery in the suburbs of
their town, resolved to consecrate it by the interment of the remains of
Daniel Boone and his wife. The Legislature, appreciating the immense
obligations of the State to the illustrious pioneer, co-operated with
the citizens of Frankfort in this movement. For twenty-five years the
remains of Col. Boone and his wife had been mouldering in the grave upon
the banks of the Missouri.
"There seemed," said one of the writers of that day, "to be a peculiar
propriety in this testimonial of the veneration borne by the
Commonwealth for the memory of its illustrious dead. And it was fitting
that the soil of Kentucky should afford the final resting place for his
remains, whose blood in life had been so often shed to protect it from
the fury of savage hostility. It was the beautiful and touching
manifestation of filial affection shown by children to the memory of a
beloved parent; and it was right that the generation which was reaping
the fruits of his toils and dangers should desire to have in their midst
and decorate with the tokens of their love, the sepulchre of this
Primeval Patriarch whose stout heart watched by the cradle of this now
powerful Commonwealth."
The honored remains of Daniel Boone and his wife were brought from
Missouri to Frankfort, and the re-interment took place on the 13th of
September, 1845. The funeral ceremonies were very imposing. Colonel
Richard M. Johnson, who had been Vice-President of the United States,
and others of the most distinguished citizens of Kentucky, officiated as
pall-bearers. The two coffins were garlanded with flowers, and an
immense procession followed them to their final resting place. The Hon.
John J. Crittenden, who was regarded as the most eloquent man in the
State, pronounced the funeral oration. And there beneath an appropriate
monument, the body of Daniel Boone now lies, awaiting the summons of
the resurrection trumpet.
"Life's labor done, securely laid
In this his last retreat,
Unheeded o'er his silent dust,
The storms of earth shall beat."
_THE END._
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:
Minor corrections have been made to ensure uniform usage of hyphenation
and abbreviations, and to standardize spelling in the text.