News of Cornwallis's surrender--Its effects--Captain Estill's
defeat--Grand army of Indians raised for the conquest of
Kentucky--Simon Girty's speech--Attack on Hoy's Station--Investment
of Bryant's Station--Expedient of the besieged to obtain
water--Grand attack on the fort--Repulse--Regular siege
commenced--Messengers sent to Lexington--Reinforcements
obtained--Arrival near the fort--Ambushed and attacked--They
enter the fort--Narrow escape of Girty--He proposes a
capitulation--Parley--Reynolds's answer to Girty--The siege
raised--Retreat of the Indians.
In October, 1781, Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown. This event was
received in Kentucky, as in other parts of the country, with great joy.
The power of Britain was supposed to be broken, or at least so much
crippled, that they would not be in a condition to assist their Indian
allies, as they had previously done. The winter passed away quietly
enough, and the people were once more lulled into security, from which
they were again to be rudely awakened. Early in the spring the parties
of the enemy recommenced their forays. Yet there was nothing in these
to excite unusual apprehensions. At first they were scarcely equal in
magnitude to those of the previous year. Cattle were killed, and horses
stolen, and individuals or small parties were attacked. But in May an
affair occurred possessing more interest, in a military point of view,
than any other in the history of Indian wars.
In the month of May, a party of about twenty-five Wyandots invested
Estill's Station, on the south of the Kentucky River, killed one white
man, took a negro prisoner, and after destroying the cattle, retreated.
Soon after the Indians disappeared, Captain Estill raised a company of
twenty-five men; with these he pursued the Indians, and on Hinkston's
Fork of Licking, two miles below the Little Mountain, came within
gunshot of them. They had just crossed the creek, which in that part
is small, and were ascending one side as Estill's party descended the
other, of two approaching hills of moderate elevation. The water-course
which lay between, had produced an opening in the timber and brush,
conducing to mutual discovery, while both hills were well set with
trees, interspersed with saplings and bushes. Instantly after
discovering the Indians, some of Captain Estill's men fired at them; at
first they seemed alarmed, and made a movement like flight; but their
chief, although wounded, gave them orders to stand and fight--on which
they promptly prepared for battle by each man taking a tree and facing
his enemy, as nearly in a line as practicable. In this position they
returned the fire and entered into the battle, which they considered
as inevitable, with all the fortitude and animation of individual and
concerted bravery, so remarkable in this particular tribe.
In the mean time, Captain Estill, with due attention to what was passing
on the opposite side, checked the progress of his men at about sixty
yards distance from the foe, and gave orders to extend their lines
in front of the Indians, to cover themselves by means of the trees,
and to fire as the object should be seen--with a sure aim. This order,
perfectly adapted to the occasion, was executed with alacrity, as far as
circumstances would admit, and the desultory mode of Indian fighting was
thought to require. So that both sides were preparing and ready at the
same time for the bloody conflict which ensued, and which proved to be
singularly obstinate.
The numbers were equal; some have said, exactly twenty-five on each
side. Others have mentioned that Captain Estill, upon seeing the Indians
form for battle, dispatched one or two of his men upon the back trail to
hasten forward a small reinforcement, which he supposed was following
him; and if so, it gave the Indians the superiority of numbers without
producing the desired assistance, for the reinforcement never arrived.
Now were the hostile lines within rifle-shot, and the action became warm
and general to their extent. Never was battle more like single combat
since the use of fire-arms; each man sought his man, and fired only when
he saw his mark; wounds and death were inflicted on either side--neither
advancing nor retreating. The firing was deliberate; with caution they
looked, but look they would, for the foe, although life itself was often
the forfeit. And thus both sides firmly stood, or bravely fell, for more
than an hour; upward of one-fourth of the combatants had fallen, never
more to rise, on either side, and several others were wounded. Never,
probably, was the native bravery or collected fortitude of men put to
a test more severe. In the clangor of an ardent battle, when death is
forgotten, it is nothing for the brave to die--when even cowards die
like brave men--but in the cool and lingering expectation of death,
none but the man of the true courage can stand. Such were those engaged
in this conflict. Never was maneuvering more necessary or less
practicable. Captain Estill had not a man to spare from his line, and
deemed unsafe any movement in front with a view to force the enemy
from their ground, because in such a movement he must expose his men,
and some of them would inevitably fall before they could reach the
adversary. This would increase the relative superiority of the enemy,
while they would receive the survivors with tomahawk in hand, in the
use of which they were practiced and expert. He clearly perceived that
no advantage was to be gained over the Indians while the action was
continued in their own mode of warfare. For although his men were
probably the best _shooters_, the Indians were undoubtedly the most
expert _hiders_; that victory itself, could it have been purchased with
the loss of his last man, would afford but a melancholy consolation for
the loss of friends and comrades; but even of victory, without some
maneuvre, he could not assure himself. His situation was critical; his
fate seemed suspended upon the events of the minute; the most prompt
expedient was demanded. He cast his eyes over the scene; the creek was
before him, and seemed to oppose a charge on the enemy--retreat he
could not. On the one hand he observed a valley running from the creek
toward the rear of the enemy's line, and immediately combining this
circumstance with the urgency of his situation, rendered the more
apparently hazardous by an attempt of the Indians to extend their line
and take his in flank, he determined to detach six of his men by this
valley to gain the flank or rear of the enemy; while himself, with the
residue, maintained his position in front.
The detachment was accordingly made under the command of Lieutenant
Miller, to whom the route was shown and the order given, conformably to
the above-mentioned determination; unfortunately, however, it was not
executed. The lieutenant, either mistaking his way or intentionally
betraying his duty, his honor, and his captain, did not proceed with the
requisite dispatch; and the Indians, attentive to occurrences, finding
out the weakened condition of their adversaries, rushed upon them and
compelled a retreat, after Captain Estill and eight of his men were
killed. Four others were badly wounded, who, notwithstanding, made their
escape; so that only nine fell into the bands of the savages, who
scalped and stripped them, of course.
It was believed by the survivors of this action that one half of the
Indians were killed; and this idea was corroborated by reports from
their towns.
There is also a tradition that Miller, with his detachment, crossed the
creek, fell in with the enemy, lost one or two of his men, and had a
third or fourth wounded before he retreated.
The battle lasted two hours, and the Indian chief was himself killed
immediately after he had slain Captain Estill; at least it is so stated
in one account we have seen. This action had a very depressing effect
upon the spirits of the Kentuckians. Yet its results to the victors were
enough to make them say, with Pyrrhus, "A few more such victories, and
we shall be undone." It is very certain that the Indians would not have
been willing to gain many such victories, even to accomplish their
darling object--the expulsion of the whites from Kentucky.
The grand army, destined to accomplish the conquest of Kentucky,
assembled at Chillicothe. A detachment from Detroit reinforced them, and
before setting out, Simon Girty made a speech to them, enlarging on the
ingratitude of the Long-knives in rebelling against their Great Father
across the water. He described in glowing terms the fertility of
Kentucky, exhorting them to recover it from the grasp of the Long-knife
before he should be too strong for them. This speech met with the
cordial approbation of the company; the army soon after took up its
march for the settlements. Six hundred warriors, the flower of all the
Northwestern tribes, were on their way to make what they knew must be
their last effort to drive the intruders from their favorite
hunting-ground.
Various parties preceded the main body, and these appearing in different
places created much confusion in the minds of the inhabitants in regard
to the place where the blow was to fall. An attack was made upon the
garrison at Hoy's Station, and two boys were taken prisoners. The
Indians, twenty in number were pursued by Captain Holden, with seventeen
men. He overtook them near the Blue Licks, (that fatal spot for the
settlers,) and after a sharp conflict was obliged to retreat with the
loss of four men.
News of this disaster arrived at Bryant's Station, (a post on the
Elkhorn, near the road from Lexington to Maysville,) on the fourteenth
of August, and the garrison prepared to march to the assistance of Hoy's
Station. But in the night the main body of the enemy arrived before the
fort, it having been selected as the point for the first blow.
The water for the use of the garrison was drawn from a spring at a
considerable distance from the fort on the northwestern side. Near this
spring the greater part of the enemy stationed themselves in ambush. On
the other side of the fort a body was posted with orders to make a feint
of attacking, in order to draw the attention of the garrison to that
point, and give an opportunity for the main attack. At daylight the
garrison, consisting of forty or fifty men, were preparing to march out,
when they were startled by a heavy discharge of rifles, with an
accompaniment of such yells as come only from an Indian's throat.
"All ran hastily to the picketing," says McClung, "and beheld a small
party of Indians exposed to open view, firing, yelling, and making the
most furious gestures. The appearance was so singular, and so different
from their usual manner of fighting, that some of the more wary and
experienced of the garrison instantly pronounced it a decoy party, and
restrained the young men from sallying out and attacking them, as some
of them were strongly disposed to do. The opposite side of the fort was
instantly manned, and several breaches in the picketing rapidly
repaired. Their greatest distress arose from the prospect of suffering
for water. The more experienced of the garrison felt satisfied that a
powerful party was in ambuscade near the spring; but at the same time
they supposed that the Indians would not unmask themselves until the
firing upon the opposite side of the fort was returned with such warmth
as to induce the belief that the feint had succeeded.
"Acting upon this impression, and yielding to the urgent necessity of the
case, they summoned all the women, without exception, and explaining to
them the circumstances in which they were placed, and the improbability
that any injury would be offered them, until the firing had been
returned from the opposite side of the fort, they urged them to go in a
body to the spring, and each to bring up a bucketfull of water. Some of
the ladies, as was natural, had no relish for the undertaking, and asked
why the men could not bring water as well as themselves? Observing that
_they_ were not bullet-proof, and that the Indians made no distinction
between male and female scalps.
"To this it was answered, that women were in the habit of bringing water
every morning to the fort and that if the Indians saw them engaged
as usual, it would induce them to believe that their ambuscade was
undiscovered, and that they would not unmask themselves for the sake of
firing at a few women, when they hoped, by remaining concealed a few
moments longer, to obtain complete possession of the fort. That if men
should go down to the spring, the Indians would immediately suspect that
something was wrong, would despair of succeeding by ambuscade, and would
instantly rush upon them, follow them into the fort, or shoot them down
at the spring. The decision was soon over.
"A few of the boldest declared their readiness to brave the danger; and
the younger and more timid rallying in the rear of these veterans, they
all marched down in a body to the spring, within point-blank shot of
more than five hundred Indian warriors. Some of the girls could not help
betraying symptoms of terror, but the married women, in general, moved
with a steadiness and composure which completely deceived the Indians.
Not a shot was fired. The party were permitted to fill their buckets,
one after another, without interruption; and although their steps became
quicker and quicker, on their return, and when near the gate of the
fort, degenerated into a rather unmilitary celerity, attended with some
little crowding in passing the gate, yet not more than one-fifth of the
water was spilled, and the eyes of the youngest had not dilated to more
than double their ordinary size.
"Being now amply supplied with water, they sent out thirteen young men
to attack the decoy party, with orders to fire with great rapidity, and
make as much noise as possible, but not to pursue the enemy too far,
while the rest of the garrison took post on the opposite side of the
fort, cocked their guns, and stood in readiness to receive the ambuscade
as soon as it was unmasked. The firing of the light parties on the
Lexington road was soon heard, and quickly became sharp and serious,
gradually becoming more distant from the fort. Instantly, Girty sprung
up at the head of his five hundred warriors, and rushed rapidly upon the
western gate, ready to force his way over the undefended palisades.
Into this immense mass of dusky bodies, the garrison poured several
rapid volleys of rifle balls with destructive effect. Their consternation
may be imagined. With wild cries they dispersed on the right and left,
and in two minutes not an Indian was to be seen. At the same time, the
party who had sallied out on the Lexington road, came running into the
fort at the opposite gate, in high spirits, and laughing heartily at the
success of their maneuvre."
After this repulse, the Indians commenced the attack in regular form,
that is regular Indian form, for they had no cannon, which was a great
oversight, and one which we would not have expected them to make, after
witnessing the terror with which they had inspired the Kentuckians in
Byrd's invasion.
Two men had left the garrison immediately upon discovering the Indians,
to carry the news to Lexington and demand succor. On arriving at that
place they found the men had mostly gone to Hoy's Station. The couriers
pursued, and overtaking them, quickly brought them back. Sixteen
horsemen, and forty or fifty on foot, started to the relief of Bryant's
Station, and arrived before that place at two o'clock in the afternoon.
To the left of the long and narrow lane, where the Maysville and
Lexington road now runs, there were more than one hundred acres of green
standing corn. The usual road from Lexington to Bryant's, ran parallel
to the fence of this field, and only a few feet distant from it. On
the opposite side of the road was a thick wood. Here, more than three
hundred Indians lay in ambush, within pistol-shot of the road, awaiting
the approach of the party. The horsemen came in view at a time when
the firing had ceased, and every thing was quiet. Seeing no enemy, and
hearing no noise, they entered the lane at a gallop, and were instantly
saluted with a shower of rifle balls, from each side, at the distance
of ten paces.
At the first shot, the whole party set spurs to their horses, and rode
at full speed through a rolling fire from either side, which continued
for several hundred yards, but owing partly to the furious rate at which
they rode, partly to the clouds of dust raised by the horses' feet, they
all entered the fort unhurt. The men on foot were less fortunate. They
were advancing through the corn-field, and might have reached the fort
in safety, but for their eagerness to succor their friends. Without
reflecting, that from the weight and extent of the fire, the enemy
must have been ten times their number, they ran up with inconsiderate
courage, to the spot where the firing was heard, and there found
themselves cut off from the fort, and within pistol-shot of more than
three hundred savages.
Fortunately the Indians' guns had just been discharged, and they had not
yet had leisure to reload. At the sight of this brave body of footmen,
however, they raised a hideous yell, and rushed upon them, tomahawk in
hand. Nothing but the high corn and their loaded rifles, could have
saved them from destruction. The Indians were cautious in rushing upon
a loaded rifle with only a tomahawk, and when they halted to load their
pieces, the Kentuckians ran with great rapidity, turning and dodging
through the corn in every direction. Some entered the wood and escaped
through the thickets of cane, some were shot down in the corn-field,
others maintained a running fight, halting occasionally behind trees and
keeping the enemy at bay with their rifles; for, of all men, the Indians
are generally the most cautious in exposing themselves to danger.
A stout, active, young fellow, was so hard pressed by Girty and several
savages, that he was compelled to discharge his rifle, (however
unwilling, having no time to reload it,) and Girty fell.
It happened, however, that a piece of thick sole-leather was in his
shot-pouch at the time, which received the ball, and preserved his life,
although the force of the blow felled him to the ground. The savages
halted upon his fall, and the young man escaped. Although the skirmish
and the race lasted more than an hour, during which the corn-field
presented a scene of turmoil and bustle which can scarcely be conceived,
yet very few lives were lost. Only six of the white men were killed and
wounded, and probably still fewer of the enemy, as the whites never
fired until absolutely necessary, but reserved their loads as a check
upon the enemy. Had the Indians pursued them to Lexington, they might
have possessed themselves of it without resistance, as there was no
force there to oppose them; but after following the fugitives for a few
hundred yards, they returned to the hopeless siege of the fort.[40]
The day was nearly over, and the Indians were discouraged. They had
made no perceptible impression upon the fort, but had sustained a
severe loss; the country was aroused, and they feared to find themselves
outnumbered in their turn. Girty determined to attempt to frighten them
into a capitulation. For this purpose he cautiously approached the works,
and suddenly showed himself on a large stump, from which he addressed
the garrison. After extolling their valor, he assured them that their
resistance was useless, as he expected his artillery shortly, when their
fort would be crushed without difficulty. He promised them perfect
security for their lives if they surrendered, and menaced them with the
usual inflictions of Indian rage if they refused. He concluded by asking
if they knew him. The garrison of course gave no credit to the promises
of good treatment contained in this speech. They were too well
acquainted with the facility with which such pledges were given
and violated; but the mention of cannon was rather alarming, as the
expedition of Colonel Byrd was fresh in the minds of all. None of
the leaders made any answer to Girty, but a young man by the name of
Reynolds, took upon himself to reply to it. In regard to the question
of Girty, "Whether the garrison knew him?" he said:
"'That he was very well known; that he himself had a worthless dog, to
which he had given the name of 'Simon Girty,' in consequence of his
striking resemblance to the man of that name; that if he had either
artillery or reinforcements, he might bring them up and be d----d; that
if either himself, or any of the naked rascals with him, found their way
into the fort, they would disdain to use their guns against them, but
would drive them out again with switches, of which they had collected
a great number for that purpose alone; and finally he declared, that
they also expected reinforcements; that the whole country was marching
to their assistance; that if Girty and his gang of murderers remained
twenty-four hours longer before the fort, their scalps would be found
drying in the sun upon the roofs of their cabins.'"[41]
Girty affected much sorrow for the inevitable destruction which he
assured the garrison awaited them, in consequence of their obstinacy.
All idea of continuing the siege was now abandoned. The besiegers
evacuated their camp that very night; and with so much precipitation,
that meat was left roasting before the fires. Though we cannot wonder
at this relinquishing of a long-cherished scheme when we consider the
character of the Indians, yet it would be impossible to account for the
appearance of precipitancy, and even terror, with which their retreat
was accompanied, did we not perceive it to be the first of a series
of similar artifices, designed to draw on their enemies to their own
destruction. There was nothing in the circumstances to excite great
apprehensions. To be sure, they had been repulsed in their attempt on
the fort with some loss, yet this loss (thirty men) would by no means
have deterred a European force of similar numbers from prosecuting the
enterprise.
Girty and his great Indian army retired toward Ruddle's and Martin's
Stations, on a circuitous route, toward Lower Blue Licks. They expected,
however, to be pursued, and evidently desired it, as they left a broad
trail behind them, and marked the trees which stood on their route with
their tomahawks.[42]
[Footnote 40: McClung.]
[Footnote 41: McClung.]
[Footnote 42: Frost: "Border Wars of the West." Peck: "Life of Boone."
McClung: "Western Adventure."]