PIONEER WOMEN OF THE WEST
THE
PIONEER WOMEN
OF THE
WEST.
BY
MRS. ELIZABETH F. ELLET,
AUTHOR OF “THE QUEENS OF AMERICAN SOCIETY,” “THE WOMEN OF
THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION,” ETC.
[Illustration]
PHILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES.
1873.
PRESS OF
HENRY B. ASHMEAD,
1102 and 1104 Sansom St.
PREFACE.
An appropriate supplement to the memoirs of the “Women of the American
Revolution,” is the story of the wives and mothers who ventured into
the western wilds, and bore their part in the struggles and labors
of the early pioneers. Indeed, so obvious a consequence of the
Revolution was the diffusion of the spirit of emigration, that the
one work naturally calls for the other, the domestic history of the
period being incomplete without it. To supply this want, very little
published material existed, and that little in the shape of brief
anecdotes, scattered through historical collections made in several
Western States, and scarcely known in other parts of the Union. But a
vast store might be yielded from the records of private families, and
the still vivid recollections of individuals who had passed through
the experiences of frontier and forest life, and it was not yet too
late to save from oblivion much that would be the more interesting and
valuable, as the memory of those primitive times receded into the past.
Application has been made, accordingly, to the proper sources
throughout the Western States, and the result enables me to offer such
a series of authentic sketches as will not only exhibit the character
of many pioneer matrons--characters that would pass for strongly marked
originals in any fiction--but will afford a picture of the times in
the progressive settlement of the whole country, from Tennessee to
Michigan. To render this picture as complete as possible, descriptions
of the domestic life and manners of the pioneers, and illustrative
anecdotes from reliable sources, have been interwoven with the memoirs,
and notice has been taken of such political events as had an influence
on the condition of the country.
All the biographies, except those of Mrs. Boone and Mary Moore,
have been prepared from private records, furnished by relatives
or friends, and in two or three instances by the subjects. I do
not except those of Mrs. Williams and Mrs. Rouse, for which I am
indebted to the courtesy of Dr. S. P. Hildreth, though they appeared
in a more extended form many years since, in a Western periodical
of limited circulation. My grateful acknowledgments are due to Mr.
Milton A. Haynes, of Tennessee, for the memoirs of Mrs. Bledsoe,
Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Shelby, written for this work; and also to Mr.
A. W. Putnam, of Nashville, Tennessee, for those of Mrs. Sevier and
Mrs. Sparks. Both in Tennessee and Ohio I had access to valuable
manuscripts belonging to the Historical Societies, and to letters in
the possession of individuals. For most of the sketches illustrative
of Michigan, included in those of Mrs. Clark, Mrs. Bryan, Mrs. Rumsey
and Mrs. Noble, I have pleasure in acknowledging my obligations to
an accomplished friend--Miss Mary H. Clark of Ann Arbor, Michigan.
The published works from which extracts have been made, are generally
mentioned, and a repetition of authorities would be unnecessary.
Flint’s Life of Boone, Dr. Hildreth’s Notes on the Pioneer History of
Ohio, Howe’s Historical Collections of Ohio, and Lanman’s History of
Michigan, have chiefly aided me, though a vast number of other books
have been consulted.
A word may be permitted here as to the proprietorship of memoirs
prepared from original materials derived from private sources. It
seems reasonable that the exclusive right should belong to the one
who procures and works up such materials; and that no other person
can, without a violation of the principles of common justice, make
use of the memoirs to such an extent as to interfere with the
interests of the original work. This remark is called forth by the
fact that a volume was published in Buffalo, in 1851, entitled “Noble
Deeds of American Women, with Biographical Sketches of some of the
more prominent”--in which thirty-eight sketches prepared entirely
from original manuscripts, (the subjects not even named in any other
published work,) were taken from the volumes of “The Women of the
American Revolution,” twenty-six of them being appropriated, in an
abridged form, without the slightest acknowledgment.
E. F. E.
CONTENTS.
Page
I. MARY BLEDSOE, 13
II. CATHARINE SEVIER, 29
III. REBECCA BOONE, 42
MRS. MASON, 58
ANNA INNIS, 61
SARAH COMBS, 62
IV. CHARLOTTE ROBERTSON, 63
MRS. DUNHAM, 75
V. JANE BROWN, 79
SARAH WILSON, 106
VI. MARY MOORE, 110
MRS. DENIS, 111
MRS. CLENDENIN, 112
MRS. CUNNINGHAM, 113
MRS. SCOTT, 115
MRS. GLASS, 118
VII. ANN HAYNES, 145
VIII. RUTH SPARKS, 153
IX. SARAH SHELBY, 162
X. REBECCA WILLIAMS, 171
LOUISA ST. CLAIR, 178
MRS. LAKE, 185
SALLY WARTH, 191
JANE DICK, 193
MARY HECKEWELDER, 193
RUHAMA GREENE, 196
XI. REBECCA ROUSE, 199
XII. SARAH SIBLEY, 225
XIII. MARY DUNLEVY, 226
XIV. ANN BAILEY, 245
XV. ELIZABETH HARPER, 254
SARAH THORP, 266
MRS. WALWORTH, 271
MRS. CARTER, 272
XVI. ELIZABETH TAPPEN, 274
XVII. REBECCA HEALD, 281
MRS. HELM, 302
MRS. SNOW, 303
MRS. LEMEN, MRS. EDWARDS, 304
XVIII. ABIGAIL SNELLING, 305
XIX. MARY MCMILLAN, 338
XX. CHARLOTTE A. CLARK, 350
CHARLOTTE GEER, 357
MRS. CLARK, 359
XXI. SARAH BRYAN, 361
SYLVIA CHAPIN, 367
MRS. ST. JOHN, MRS. LOVEJOY, 368
LUCY CHAPIN, 370
MRS. ANDERSON, 373
ELIZA BULL, MRS. HARAZTHY, 374
XXII. MARY ANN RUMSEY, 376
ANN ALLEN, 382
ELIZABETH ALLEN, 382
XXIII. HARRIET L. NOBLE, 388
FRANCES TRASK, 397
MRS. SCOTT, MRS. TALBOT, MRS. GOODRICH, 400
MRS. COMSTOCK, 401
MRS. WOODWARD, 402
XXIV. JOURNAL, 403
XXV. ELIZABETH KENTON, 428
THE PIONEER WOMEN OF THE WEST.
I.
MARY BLEDSOE.
“Men’s due deserts each reader may recite,
For men of men do make a goodly show;
But women’s works can seldom come to light,
No mortal man their famous acts may know;
Few writers will a little time bestow,
The worthy acts of women to repeat;
Though their renown and the deserts be great.”
The poet’s complaint might be made with peculiar justice in the case
of American women who followed the earliest adventurers into the
unknown forests of the West. One of their own number often said--“A
good Providence sent such men and women into the world together. They
were made to match.” Such a race will probably never again live in this
country. The progress of improvement, art, and luxury, has a tendency
to change the female character, so that even a return of the perils
of war, or the necessity for exertion, would hardly develop in it the
strength which belonged to the matrons who nursed the infancy of the
Republic. They were formed by early training in habits of energetic
industry, and familiarity with privation and danger, to take their
part in subduing the wilderness for the advance of civilization.
Though their descendants cannot emulate their heroic deeds, it will
be a pleasing task to call up recollections of them; to observe their
patient endurance of hardship, and to compare their homely but honest
exterior with the accomplishment and graces of the sex in modern days.
A large portion of the history of the early settlers of the West has
never been recorded in any published work. It is full of personal
adventure, and no power of imagination could create materials more
replete with romantic interest than their simple experience afforded.
The training of those hardy pioneers in their frontier life; the daring
with which they penetrated the wilderness, plunging into trackless
forests, and encountering the savage tribes whose hunting grounds they
had invaded, and the sturdy perseverance with which they overcame
all difficulties, compel our wondering admiration. It has been truly
said of them, “The greater part of mankind might derive advantage
from the contemplation of their humble virtues, hospitable homes, and
spirits patient, noble, proud, and free; their self-respect, grafted
on innocent thoughts; their days of health and nights of sleep; their
toils by danger dignified, yet guiltless; their hopes of a cheerful old
age and a quiet grave.”
But less attention has been given to their exploits and sufferings than
they deserve, because the accounts read are too vague and general; the
picture not being brought near, nor exhibited with lifelike proportions
and coloring. A collection of memoirs of women must of necessity
include some reliable account of the domestic and daily life of those
heroic adventurers, and may perhaps supply the deficiency. Commencing
with the first colonists of Tennessee, which claims priority of
settlement, we light upon a name associated with its early annals, and
distinguished among pioneers--that of Bledsoe. But before entering on a
sketch of this family, a brief view may be given of the general state
of the country.
Until the year 1700, the territory of North Carolina and Tennessee,
and an indefinite region extending south-west and north-west, in
the language of the royal British charters, to the South Seas, was
known as “our county of Albemarle, in Carolina.” Even as late as
1750, the country lying west of the Appalachian mountains was wholly
unknown to the people of the Carolinas and Virginia. When, a few
years later, the British army under Braddock crossed the mountains
from Maryland and Pennsylvania, and marched to Fort Du Quesne, that
march was described by the writers of the times as an advance into
the deep recesses and fastnesses of a savage wilderness. At that time
the French owned all the Canadas, the valley of the Ohio and all its
tributaries, and claimed the rest of the continent to the confines of
Mexico, westward from the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. The old French
maps of that period, and the journals and letters of French traders
and hunters, together with the traditions of the Indians, afford the
only reliable information in relation to the then condition of the
country now composing Kentucky and Tennessee. In the French maps of
those times, the Kentucky, Holston, Tennessee, and Ohio are laid down.
The Kentucky is called Cataway, the Holston the Cherokee, and the
Little Tennessee the Tanasees. This river, after the junction of the
Holston and Tennessee, is called Ho-go-hegee, and the only Indian town
marked on its banks is at the mouth of Bear Creek, near the north-west
corner of Alabama. There were forts which were little more than trading
posts, at several points on the Ohio and Mississippi; Fort Du Quesne,
where Pittsburg now stands, and one at the mouth of the Kenhawa river;
another at the mouth of the Kentucky, and Fort Vincennes, near the
mouth of the Oubach, or Wabash; Fort Massac, half way between the
mouth of the Ohio and the Tennessee, on the Illinois side, and another
on the Tennessee, twelve miles above its mouth. They also had a fort
where Memphis now stands, called Prud’homme; another at the mouth of
the Arkansas, called Ackensâ; another near Natchez, and one at the
junction of the Coosa and Tallapoosa, called Halabamas. South of these
last forts, the Spaniards had possession in Florida, Louisiana, and
Texas. The greater part of Kentucky, Tennessee, and Western Virginia,
was represented on these maps as wholly uninhabited. Certain it is that
not more than a dozen years afterwards, when the pioneers of Tennessee
and Kentucky first explored that region, they found the banks of the
Watauga, Cumberland, and Kentucky, with their tributaries, in this
state. It was all one vast wilderness, into which hunting parties of
Indians from its distant borders entered and roamed in pursuit of game,
but in which they made no permanent lodgment. Numerous warlike nations
lived south, west, and north of this wilderness, and hither it was that
the lion-hearted pioneers of the Cumberland and Watauga came, with axe
and rifle, to subdue at once the savage and the forest.
In 1758, Col. Bird, of the British army, established Fort Chissel in
Wyth county, Virginia, to protect the frontiers, and, advancing into
what is now Sullivan county, Tennessee, built a fort near Long Island,
on the Holston or Watauga. There was not then a single white man
living in the borders of Tennessee. The year before, Governor Dobbs of
North Carolina had, at the request of the Cherokee Indians, built Fort
Lowdon, and the Indians agreed to make grants of land to all artisans
who would settle among them. Fort Lowdon was on the Little Tennessee,
near the mouth of Tellico river, in the centre of the Cherokee nation,
and about one hundred miles south of the fort at Long Island. Between
these forts were the first settlements, which struggled for several
years against the fearful ravages of Indian wars, before the beginning
of the Revolution.
At irregular intervals from 1765 to 1769, came pioneer parties from
Virginia and North Carolina, forming “camps,” “settlements,” and
“stations.” Some of the earliest emigrants were from Raleigh and
Salisbury, and settled upon the Watauga. The first settlement attempted
on the spot where Nashville now stands, is said to have been in 1778,
the “French Lick,” as the locality was named, having been discovered,
according to Haywood, in 1769 or 1770, by a party of adventurers, who
were descending the Cumberland on their way to Natchez, to dispose
of articles which they had, and purchase others which they wanted.
They saw an immense number of buffaloes and wild game. The lick and
adjoining lands were crowded with them, and their bellowing resounded
from the hills and forest. The place had previously been visited by
French hunters and trappers from the north. The surrounding hills
were then covered with cedars, whose foliage deeply shaded the rocky
soil from which they sprung, and there was no appearance of former
cultivation. No prospect spread before the eye but woods and cane,
inhabited by buffaloes, elks, wolves, foxes, and other wild animals.
Not deterred by the neighborhood of these, or fiercer savages, the new
comers here erected cabins, constructed a stockade fort, and maintained
possession against several attacks by the Indians.
Two brothers of the name of Bledsoe--Englishmen by birth,--were living
in 1769 at Fort Chissel, then upon the extreme border of civilization.
It was not long before they removed further into the wild, and they
were among the earliest pioneers in the valley of the Holston. This
portion of country, now Sullivan county, was at that time supposed
to be within the limits of Virginia. The Bledsoes, with the Shelbys,
settled themselves about twelve miles above the Island Flats. The
beauty of that mountainous region attracted others, who, impelled by
the same spirit of adventure and pride in being the first to explore
the wilderness, came to join them in establishing the colony. They
cheerfully ventured their property and lives, and endured the severest
privations in taking possession of their new homes, influenced by
the love of independence and equality. The most dearly prized rights
of man had been threatened in the oppressive system adopted by Great
Britain towards her colonies; her agents and the colonial magistrates
manifested all the insolence of authority; and individuals who had
suffered from their aggressions bethought themselves of a country
beyond the mountains, in the midst of primeval forests, where no laws
existed save the law of nature--no magistrate, except those selected by
themselves; where full liberty of conscience, of speech, and of action
prevailed. Yet almost in the first year they formed a written code
of regulations by which they agreed to be governed; each man signing
his name thereto. These settlements formed by parties of emigrants
from neighboring provinces were not, in their constitution, unlike
those of New Haven and Hartford; but among them was no godly Hooker,
no learned and heavenly-minded Haynes. As, however, from the first
they were exposed to the continual depredations and assaults of their
savage neighbors, who looked with jealous eyes upon the approach of
the white men, it was perhaps well that there were among them few men
of letters. The rifle and the axe, their only weapons of civilization,
suited better the perils they encountered from the fierce and marauding
Shawnees, Chickamangas, Creeks, and Cherokees, than would the brotherly
address of William Penn, or the pious discourses of Roger Williams.
During the first year, not more than fifty families had crossed the
mountains; but others came with each revolving season to reinforce the
little settlement, until its population swelled to hundreds. During the
Revolutionary struggle, that region became the refuge of many patriots
driven by British invasion from Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia,
some of the best families seeking homes there. Patriotic republicans
who had sacrificed everything for their country, hoped to find in the
secluded vales and thick forests of the West that peace and quiet which
they had not found amidst the din of civil and foreign war. But they
soon experienced the horrors of savage warfare, which swept away their
property, and often robbed them of their wives and children, either by
a barbarous death or slavery as captives dragged into the wild recesses
of the Indian borders. They took up their residence, for mutual aid
and protection, in clusters around different stations, within a short
distance of one another, and many lived in the forts. Notwithstanding
the frequent and terrible inroads upon their numbers, they increased to
thousands within ten or fifteen years.
Not long after the Bledsoes established themselves upon the banks of
the Holston, Col. Anthony Bledsoe, who was an excellent surveyor, was
appointed clerk to the commissioners who ran the line dividing Virginia
and North Carolina. Bledsoe had before this ascertained that Sullivan
County was comprised within the boundaries of the latter province.
In June, 1776, he was chosen by the inhabitants of the county to the
command of the militia. The office imposed on him the dangerous duty of
repelling the savages and defending the frontier. He had often to call
out the militia and lead them to meet their Indian assailants, whom
they would pursue to their villages through the recesses of the forest.
In this month more than seven hundred Indian warriors advanced upon the
settlements on the Holston, with the avowed object of exterminating the
white race through all their borders. The battle of Long Island, fought
a few miles below Bledsoe’s station, near the Island Flats, was one
of the earliest and hardest fought battles known in the traditionary
history of Tennessee. Col. Bledsoe, at the head of the militia, marched
to meet the enemy, and in the conflict which ensued was completely
victorious; the Indians being routed, and leaving forty dead upon the
field. This disastrous defeat for a time held them in check; but the
spirit of savage hostility was invincible, and in the years following
there was a constant succession of Indian troubles, in which Col.
Bledsoe was conspicuous for his bravery and services.
In 1779, Sullivan County having been recognized as a part of North
Carolina, Governor Caswell appointed Anthony Bledsoe colonel, and
Isaac Shelby lieutenant-colonel, of its military company. About the
beginning of July of the following year, General Charles McDowell, who
commanded a district east of the mountains, sent to Bledsoe a dispatch,
giving him an account of the condition of the country. The surrender
of Charleston had brought the State of South Carolina under British
power; the people had been summoned to return to their allegiance, and
resistance was ventured only by a few resolute spirits, determined
to brave death rather than submit to the invader. The whigs had fled
into North Carolina, whence they returned as soon as they were able
to oppose the enemy. Colonels Tarleton and Ferguson had advanced
towards North Carolina at the head of their soldiery; and McDowell
ordered Col. Bledsoe to rally the militia of his county, and come
forward in readiness to assist in repelling the invader’s approach.
Similar dispatches were sent to Col. Sevier and other officers, and the
patriots were not slow in obeying the summons.
While the British Colonel Ferguson, under the orders of Cornwallis,
was sweeping the country near the frontier, gathering the loyalists
under his standard and driving back the whigs, against whom fortune
seemed to have decided, a resolute band was assembled for their succor
far up among the mountains. From a population of five or six thousand,
not more than twelve hundred of them fighting men, a body of near
five hundred mountaineers, armed with rifles and clad in leathern
hunting-shirts, was gathered. The anger of these sons of liberty had
been stirred up by an insolent message received from Col. Ferguson,
that “if they did not instantly lay down their arms, he would come
over the mountains and whip their republicanism out of them;” and they
were eager for an opportunity of showing what regard they paid to his
threats.
At this juncture, Col. Isaac Shelby returned from Kentucky, where he
had been surveying land for the great company of land speculators
headed by Henderson, Hart, and others. The young officer was betrothed
to Miss Susan Hart, a belle celebrated among the western settlements
at that period, and it was shrewdly suspected that his sudden return
from the wilds of Kentucky was to be attributed to the attractions
of that young lady; notwithstanding that due credit is given to the
patriot, in recent biographical sketches, for an ardent wish to aid
his countrymen in their struggle for liberty by his active services at
the scene of conflict. On his arrival at Bledsoe’s, it was a matter of
choice with the colonel whether he should himself go forth and march
at the head of the advancing army of volunteers, or yield the command
to Shelby. It was necessary for one to remain behind, for the danger
to the defenceless inhabitants of the country was even greater from
the Indians than the British; and it was obvious that the ruthless
savage would take immediate advantage of the departure of a large
body of fighting men, to fall upon the enfeebled frontier. Shelby
on his part insisted that it was the duty of Bledsoe, whose family,
relatives, and defenceless neighbors looked to him for protection,
to stay with the troops at home for the purpose of repelling the
expected Indian assault. For himself, he urged, he had no family to
guard, or who might mourn his loss, and it was better that he should
advance with the troops to join McDowell. No one could tell where
might be the post of danger and honor, at home or on the other side of
the mountains. The arguments he used no doubt corresponded with his
friend’s own convictions, his sense of duty to his family, and of true
regard to the welfare of his country; and the deliberation resulted
in his relinquishment of the command to his junior officer. It was
thus that the conscientious, though not ambitious patriot, lost the
honor of commanding in one of the most distinguished actions of the
Revolutionary war.
Col. Shelby took the command of those gallant mountaineers who
encountered the forces of Ferguson at King’s Mountain on the 7th
October, 1780. Three days after that splendid victory, Bledsoe received
from him an official dispatch giving an account of the battle. The
daughter of Col. Bledsoe well remembered having heard this dispatch
read by her father, though it has probably long since shared the fate
of other valuable family papers.
When the hero of King’s Mountain, wearing the victor’s wreath,
returned to his friends, he found that his betrothed had departed
with her father for Kentucky, leaving for him no request to follow.
Sarah, the above mentioned daughter of Col. Bledsoe, often rallied
the young officer, who spent considerable time at her father’s, upon
this cruel desertion. He would reply by expressing much indignation
at the treatment he had received at the hands of the fair coquette,
and protesting that he would not follow her to Kentucky, nor ask her
of her father; he would wait for little Sarah Bledsoe, a far prettier
bird, he would aver, than the one that had flown away. The maiden,
then some twelve or thirteen years of age, would laughingly return his
bantering by saying he “had better wait, indeed, and see if _he_ could
win Miss Bledsoe who could not win Miss Hart.” The arch damsel was not
wholly in jest; for a youthful kinsman of the colonel--David Shelby,
a lad of seventeen or eighteen, who had fought by his side at King’s
Mountain--had already gained her youthful affections. She remained true
to this early love, though her lover was only a private soldier. And
it may be well to record that the gallant colonel, who thus threatened
infidelity to his, did actually, notwithstanding his protestations, go
to Kentucky the following year, and was married to Miss Susan Hart, who
made him a faithful and excellent wife.
During the whole of the trying period that intervened between the
first settlement of east Tennessee and the close of the Revolutionary
struggle, Col. Bledsoe, with his brother and kinsmen, was almost
incessantly engaged in the strife with their Indian foes, as well as
in the laborious enterprise of subduing the forest, and converting the
tangled wilds into the husbandman’s fields of plenty. In these varied
scenes of trouble and trial, of toil and danger, the men were aided and
encouraged by the women. Mary Bledsoe, the colonel’s wife, was a woman
of remarkable energy, and noted for her independence both of thought
and action. She never hesitated to expose herself to danger whenever
she thought it her duty to brave it; and when Indian hostilities
were most fierce, when their homes were frequently invaded by the
murderous savage, and females struck down by the tomahawk or carried
into captivity, she was foremost in urging her husband and friends
to go forth and meet the foe, instead of striving to detain them for
the protection of her own household. During this time of peril and
watchfulness, little attention could have been given to books, even had
the pioneers possessed them; but the Bible, the Confession of Faith,
and a few such works as Baxter’s Call, Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress,
etc., were generally to be found in the library of every resident on
the frontier.
About the close of the year 1779, Col. Bledsoe and his brothers, with
a few friends, crossed the Cumberland mountains, descended into the
valley of Cumberland River, and explored the beautiful region on its
banks. Delighted with its shady woods, its herds of buffaloes, its rich
and genial soil, and its salubrious climate, their report on their
return induced many of the inhabitants of East Tennessee to resolve
on seeking a new home in the Cumberland Valley. The Bledsoes did not
remove their families thither until three years afterwards; but the
idea of settling the valley originated with them; they were the first
to explore it, and it was in consequence of their report and advice
that the expedition was fitted out, under the direction of Captain
(afterwards General) Robertson and Col. John Donaldson, to establish
the earliest colony in that part of the country.[1]
The daughter of Col. Bledsoe has in her possession letters that passed
between her father and Gen. Robertson, in which repeated allusions are
made to the fact that to his suggestions and counsel was owing the
first thought of emigration to the valley. In 1784, Anthony Bledsoe
removed with his family to the new settlement of which he had thus
been one of the founders. His brother, Col. Isaac Bledsoe, had gone
the year before. They took up their residence in what is now Sumner
County, and established a fort or station at “Bledsoe’s Lick”--now
known as the Castalian Springs. The families being thus united, and the
eldest daughter of Anthony married to David Shelby, the station became
a rallying point for an extensive district surrounding it. The Bledsoes
were used to fighting with the Indians; they were men of well known
energy and courage, and their fort was the place to which the settlers
looked for protection--the colonels being the acknowledged leaders of
the pioneers in their neighborhood, and the terror, far and near, of
the savage marauders. Anthony was also a member of the North Carolina
Legislature from Sumner County.
From 1780 to 1795, a continual warfare was kept up by the Creeks and
Cherokees against the inhabitants of the valley. The history of this
time would be a fearful record of scenes of bloody strife and atrocious
barbarity. Several hundred persons fell victims to the ruthless foe,
who spared neither age nor sex; and many women and children were
carried far from their friends into hopeless captivity. The settlers
were frequently robbed and their negro slaves taken away; in the course
of a few years two thousand horses were stolen; their cattle and hogs
were destroyed, their houses and barns burned, and their plantations
laid waste. In consequence of these incursions, many of the inhabitants
gathered together at the stations on the frontier, and established
themselves under military rule for the protection of the interior
settlements. During this desperate period, the pursuits of the farmer
could not be abandoned; lands were to be surveyed and marked, and
fields cleared and cultivated, by men who could not venture beyond
their own doors without arms in their hands. The labors of those active
and vigilant leaders, the Bledsoes, in supporting and defending the
colony, were indefatigable. Nor was the heroic matron--the subject
of this sketch--less active in her appropriate sphere of action. Her
family consisted of seven daughters and five sons, the eldest of whom,
Sarah Shelby, was not more than eighteen when they came to Sumner.
Mrs. Bledsoe was almost the only instructor of these children, the
family being left to her sole charge while her husband was engaged
in his toilsome duties, or harassed with the cares incident to an
uninterrupted border warfare.
Too soon was this devoted wife and mother called upon to suffer a far
deeper calamity than any she had yet experienced. Anthony Bledsoe had
removed his family into his brother Isaac’s fort at Bledsoe’s Lick. On
the night of the 20th of July, 1788, a number of Indians approached,
and placed themselves in ambush about forty yards in front of a
passage dividing the log houses occupied by the two families. To draw
the men out, they then sent some of their party to cause an alarm by
riding rapidly through a lane passing near. Roused by the noise, Col.
Anthony Bledsoe rose and went to the gate. As he opened it, he was
shot down, the same shot killing an Irish servant, named Campbell, who
had been long devotedly attached to him. The colonel did not expire
immediately, but was carried back into the house, while preparations
were made for defence by Gen. William Hall, and the portholes manned
till break of day. The wife of Isaac Bledsoe suggested to her husband,
and afterwards to her brother-in-law, in view of the near approach
of death, that it was proper to make provision for his daughters. He
had surveyed large tracts of land, and had secured grants for several
thousand acres, which constituted nearly his whole property. The law
of North Carolina at that time gave all the lands to the sons, to the
exclusion of the daughters. In consequence, should the colonel die
without a will, his seven young daughters would be left destitute. In
this hour of bitter trial, Mrs. Bledsoe’s thoughts too were not alone
of her own sufferings, and the deadly peril that hung over them, but
of the provision necessary for the helpless ones dependent on her
care. Writing materials were procured, and having called Clendening to
draw up the will, he being too much agitated to write, Isaac Bledsoe
supported his dying brother while affixing his signature. Thus a
portion of land was assigned to each of the daughters, who in after
life had reason to remember with gratitude the presence of mind and
affectionate care of their aunt.
Mrs. Bledsoe’s sufferings from Indian hostility were not terminated
by this overwhelming stroke. A brief list of those who fell victims,
among her family and kinsmen, may afford some idea of the trials she
endured, and of the strength of character which enabled her to bear up,
and to support others, under such terrible experiences. In January,
1793, her son Anthony, then seventeen years of age, while passing near
the present site of Nashville, was shot through the body, and severely
wounded, by a party of Indians in ambush. He was pursued to the
gates of a neighboring fort. Not a month afterwards, her eldest son,
Thomas, was also desperately wounded by the savages, and escaped with
difficulty from their hands. Early in the following April, he was shot
dead near his mother’s house, and scalped by the murderous Indians. On
the same day, Col. Isaac Bledsoe was killed and scalped by a party of
about twenty Creek Indians, who beset him in the field, and cut off his
retreat to his station near at hand.
In April, 1794, Anthony, the son of Mrs. Bledsoe, and his cousin of
the same name, were shot by a party of Indians, near the house of Gen.
Smith, on Drake Creek, ten miles from Gallatin. The lads were going
to school, and were then on their way to visit Mrs. Sarah Shelby, the
sister of Anthony, who lived on Station Camp Creek.
Some time afterwards, Mrs. Bledsoe was on the road from Bledsoe’s Lick
to the above mentioned station, where the court of Sumner County was
at that time held. Her object was to attend to some business connected
with the estate of her late husband. She was escorted on her way by
the celebrated Thomas Sharp Spencer, and Robert Jones. The party was
waylaid and fired upon by a large body of Indians. Jones was severely
wounded, and turning, rode rapidly back for about two miles; after
which, he fell dead from his horse. The savages advanced boldly upon
the others, intending to take them prisoners.
It was not consistent with Spencer’s chivalrous character to attempt to
save himself by leaving his companion to the mercy of the foe. Bidding
her retreat as fast as possible and encouraging her to keep her seat
firmly, he protected her by following more slowly in her rear, with his
trusty rifle in his hand. When the Indians in pursuit came too near,
he would raise his weapon, as if to fire; and as he was known to be
an excellent marksman, the savages were not willing to encounter him,
but hastened to the shelter of trees, while he continued his retreat.
In this manner he kept them at bay for some miles, not firing a single
shot--for he knew that his threatening had more effect--until Mrs.
Bledsoe reached a station. Her life and his own were on this occasion
saved by his prudence and presence of mind; for both would have been
lost had he yielded to the temptation to fire.
This Spencer--for his gallantry and reckless daring named “the
Chevalier Bayard of Cumberland Valley,”--was famed for his encounters
with the Indians, by whom he had often been shot at, and wounded on
more than one occasion. His proportions and strength were those of a
giant, and the wonder-loving people were accustomed to tell marvellous
stories concerning him. It was said that at one time, being unarmed
when attacked by Indians, he reached into a tree, and wrenching off
a huge bough by main force, drove back his assailants with it. He
lived for some years alone in Cumberland Valley--it is said from 1776
to 1779--before a single white man had taken up his abode there; his
dwelling being a large hollow tree, the roots of which still remain
near Bledsoe’s Lick. For one year--the tradition is--a man by the name
of Holiday shared his retreat; but the hollow being not sufficiently
spacious to accommodate two lodgers, they were under the necessity
of separating, and Holiday departed to seek a home in the valley of
the Kentucky River. But one difficulty arose; those dwellers in the
primeval forest had but one knife between them! What was to be done?
for a knife was an article of indispensable necessity; it belonged to
Spencer, and it would have been madness in the owner of such an article
to part with it. He resolved to accompany Holiday part of the way on
his journey, and went as far as Big Barren River. When about to turn
back, Spencer’s heart relented; he broke the blade of his knife in two,
gave half to his friend, and with a light heart returned to his hollow
tree. Not long after his gallant rescue of Mrs. Bledsoe, he was killed
by a party of Indians, on the road from Nashville to Knoxville. For
nearly twenty years he had been exposed to every variety of danger, and
escaped them all; but his hour came at last, and the dust of the hermit
and renowned warrior of Cumberland Valley now reposes on “Spencer’s
Hill,” near the Crab Orchard, on the road between Nashville and
Knoxville.
Bereaved of her husband, sons, and brother-in-law by the murderous
savages, Mrs. Bledsoe was obliged alone to undertake, not only the
charge of her husband’s estate, but the care of the children, and their
education and settlement in life. These duties were discharged with
unwavering energy and Christian patience. Her religion had taught her
fortitude under her unexampled distresses; and through all this trying
period of her life, she exhibited a decision and firmness of character,
which bespoke no ordinary powers of intellect. Her mind, indeed, was
of masculine strength, and she was remarkable for independence of
thought and opinion. In person she was attractive, being neither tall
nor large until advanced in life. Her hair was brown, her eyes gray,
and her complexion fair. Her useful life was closed in the autumn of
1808. The record of her worth, and of what she did and suffered, may
win little attention from the careless many, who regard not the memory
of our “pilgrim mothers:” but the recollection of her gentle virtues
has not yet faded from the hearts of her descendants; and those to
whom they tell the story of her life will acknowledge her the worthy
companion of those noble men to whom belongs the praise of having
originated a new colony and built up a goodly state in the bosom of the
forest. Their patriotic labors, their struggles with the surrounding
savages, their efforts in the maintenance of the community they had
founded--sealed, as they finally were, with their own blood, and the
blood of their sons and relatives--will never be forgotten while the
apprehension of what is noble, generous, and good survives in the
hearts of their countrymen.
II.
CATHERINE SEVIER.
In one of the pioneer parties from the banks of the Yadkin, in North
Carolina, who crossed the rugged mountains to seek new homes in the
valley of the Watauga, came Samuel Sherrill, with his family consisting
of several sons and two daughters. One of these daughters, Susan,
married Col. Taylor, a gentleman of considerable distinction; the
other, Catharine, became the second wife of Gen. Sevier. Mr. Sherrill’s
residence was finally upon the Nola Chucka, and known as the Daisy
Fields. He was a tiller of the soil, a hard-working man, “well to do in
the world” for an emigrant of that day, and he was skilled in the use
of the rifle, so that it was said, “Sherrill can make as much out of
the grounds and the woods as any other man. He has a hand and eye to
his work; a hand, an eye, and an ear for the Indian and the game.”
Buffalo, deer, and wild turkeys came around the tents and cabins of
those first emigrants. A providence was in this that some of them
recognized with thankfulness. These settlements encroached upon the
rights and hunting-grounds of the natives; and although some had been
established and permitted to remain undisturbed for several years, yet
when Capt. James Robertson arrived from Virginia, in 1772, with a large
party of emigrants, and selected lands on the Watauga, he endeavored
to secure an occupation with the approbation of the Indians; therefore
he effected a “lease” from the Cherokees of all the lands on the river
and its tributaries for eight years.
Jacob Brown, with his family and friends, arrived from North Carolina
about the same time with the Sherrills, and these two families became
connected by intermarriage with the Seviers, and ever remained
faithful to each other through all the hostile and civil commotions of
subsequent years. The family of Seviers came among the very earliest
emigrants from Virginia, and aided in the erection of the first fort on
the Watauga.[2]
With few exceptions, these emigrants had in view the acquisition of
rich lands for cultivation and inheritance. Some indeed were there, or
came, who were absconding debtors or refugees from justice, and from
this class were the tories of North Carolina mostly enlisted.
The spirit of the hunter and pioneer cannot well content itself in a
permanent location, especially when the crack of a neighbor’s rifle, or
the blast of his hunting-horn may be heard by his quick ear; therefore
did these advanced guards often change their homes when others crowded
them at a mile’s distance. It must be remembered that these advances
into the wilderness could only be made by degrees, step by step,
through years of tedious waiting and toilsome preparation. And thus,
though they had a lease from the Indians, a foothold in the soil,
stations of defence, and evidently had taken a bond of fate, assuring
them in the prospect of rich inheritances for their children, they
could not all abide while the great West and greater Future invited
onward. Richer lands, larger herds of buffaloes, more deer, and withal
as many Indians were in the distance, upon the Cumberland and Kentucky
Rivers. The emigrants advanced, and they took no steps backwards. In a
few years they were found organizing “provisional governments” upon
“the dark and bloody ground” of Kentucky, and at the Bluffs, the site
of the beautiful capital of Tennessee. And these Watauga and Nola
Chucka pioneers were the leading spirits throughout.
Lord Dunmore, in fitting out the expedition against the Indian tribes,
which ended with the memorable battle of Point Pleasant, gave John
Sevier the commission of captain.
In the first Cherokee war of 1776, the early settlements were in
great danger of being destroyed. The prowling savages picked off the
emigrants in detail, and being somewhat successful resolved to attack
the settlements and stations at different points on the same day--in
June, 1776. But they were so defeated in the battles of Long Island
and at the Island Flats, on the Holston, and in their attack and siege
of the Watauga Fort, that a happy change was wrought, and hopes of
quiet were encouraged. The attack on the latter station was conducted
by an experienced Indian chief, Old Abraham, of the Chilhowee Mountain
region. It was a fierce attack, but the fort fortunately held within
it two of the most resolute men who have ever touched the soil of
Tennessee, and to whom East and Middle Tennessee were subsequently more
indebted than to any other men who have ever lived--James Robertson
and John Sevier--they having then no higher titles than captains. Some
thirty men were under their command or direction.
The approach of the Indians had been stealthy, and the first alarm
was given by the flight and screams of some females, who were closely
pursued by the savages in large force. One of the women was killed,
and one or two captured. In this party of females was Miss Catharine
Sherrill, daughter of Samuel Sherrill, who had removed into the fort
only the day previous.
Miss Sherrill was already somewhat distinguished for nerve, action,
and fleetness. It was said “she could outrun or outleap any woman;
walk more erect, and ride more gracefully and skilfully than any other
female in all the mountains round about, or on the continent at large.”
Although at other times she proved herself to know no fear, and could
remain unmoved when danger threatened, yet on this occasion she admits
that she did run, and “run her best.” She was very tall and erect, and
her whole appearance such as to attract the especial notice and pursuit
of the Indians; and as they intercepted the direct path to the gate of
the fort, she made a circuit to reach the enclosure on another side,
resolved, as she said, to scale the walls or palisades. In this effort,
some person within the defences attempted to aid, but his foot slipped,
or the object on which he was standing gave way, and both fell to the
ground on opposite sides of the enclosure. The savages were coming with
all speed, and firing and shooting arrows repeatedly. Indeed, she said,
“the bullets and arrows came like hail. It was now--leap the wall or
die! for I would not live a captive.” She recovered from the fall, and
in a moment was over and within the defences, and “by the side of one
_in uniform_.”
This was none other than Capt. John Sevier, and the first time she
ever saw him. This was the beginning of an acquaintance destined in a
few years to ripen into a happy union, to endure in this life for near
forty years. “The way she run and jumped on that occasion was often
the subject of remark, commendation, and laughter.” In after life she
looked upon this introduction, and the manner of it, as a providential
indication of their adaptation to each other--that they were destined
to be of mutual help in future dangers, and to overcome obstacles in
time to come. And she always deemed herself safe when by his side. Many
a time did she say: “I could gladly undergo that peril and effort again
to fall into his arms, and feel _so out of danger_, But then,” she
would add, “it was all of God’s good providence.” Capt. Sevier was then
a married man, his wife and younger children not having yet arrived
from Virginia. His wife’s name was Susan Hawkins, and she was a native
of Virginia, where she died.
In 1777, Capt. Sevier received a commission from the State of North
Carolina, and was thus decidedly enlisted in the cause of American
independence; and not long after this, he was honored with the
commission of colonel, bearing the signature of George Washington. In
1779, his wife died, leaving him ten children. Several of the eldest
were sons, who had come with their father to gain and improve a home
in the wilderness. They were trained to arms and to labor. He had
selected land on the Watauga and Nola Chucka, his chosen residence
being on the latter stream, and for many years known as Plum Grove.
In the year 1780, he and Miss Sherrill were married, and she devoted
herself earnestly to all the duties of her station, and to meet the
exigencies of the times. It may well be supposed that females spun,
wove, and made up most of the clothes worn by these backwoods people.
Girls were as well skilled in these arts as were the boys in such as
more appropriately belonged to their sphere and strength.
Not long after the marriage, Col. Sevier was called to the duty of
raising troops to meet the invasion of the interior of North Carolina,
under Tarleton, Ferguson, and other British officers. Preparations
were hastily made, and the various forces assembled which fought the
important battle of King’s Mountain. Col. Sevier had three sons and one
brother in that engagement. His favorite brother, Joseph, was killed,
and one son wounded. These sons were between the ages of sixteen and
twenty-one. Boys were early taught to use the rifle with skill. This
was the formidable weapon in pursuit of game, and in all the Indian
wars.
It was always a source of much gratification to Mrs. Sevier, and one of
which she fondly boasted, that among the first work she did after her
marriage, was to make the clothes which her husband and three sons wore
the day they were in the memorable battle of King’s Mountain. And she
would say, “Had his ten children been sons, and large enough to have
served in that expedition, I could have fitted them out.”[3]