of the country was, for one or two persons to stand as watchmen or
sentinels, whilst others labored in the field; and even whilst one went
to a spring to drink, another stood on the watch with his gun ready
to give him protection by shooting a creeping Indian, or one rising
from the thicket of canes and brush, that covered him from view; and
wherever four or five were assembled together at a spring or other
place where business required them to be, they held their guns in their
hands, and with their backs turned to each other, one faced the north,
another the south, another the west, watching in all directions for a
lurking or creeping enemy. While the people were so much harassed and
galled by the Indians that they could not plant and cultivate their
corn-fields, a proposition was made in a council of the inhabitants
of the bluff, to break up the settlement and go off. Capt. Robertson
pertinaciously resisted this proposition; it was then impossible to get
to Kentucky; the Indians were in force upon all the roads and passages
which led thither; for the same reason it was equally impracticable
to remove to the settlements on the Holston. No other means of escape
remained but that of going down the river in boats, and making good
their retreat to the Illinois; and to this plan great obstacles were
opposed, for how was the wood to be obtained with which to make the
boats? The Indians were every day in the skirts of the bluff, lying
concealed among the shrubs, privy and cedar trees, ready to inflict
death upon whoever should attempt to go to the woods to procure timber
for building a boat. These difficulties were all stated by Capt.
Robertson; he held out the dangers attendant on the attempt on the one
hand; the fine country they were about to possess themselves of on the
other; the probability of new acquisitions of numbers from the interior
settlements, and the certainty of being able, by a careful attention to
circumstances, to defend themselves till succor could arrive. Finally,
their apprehensions were quieted, and gradually they relinquished the
design of evacuating the positions they occupied.”[9]
The following extract from a “Talk” from “The Glass,” a Cherokee chief,
to Gov. Blount, dated “Look-out Mountain,” Sept. 10th, 1792, may show
something of the state of feeling prevalent between the hostile parties.
“Codeatoy returned here from the treaty at Nashville, and tells us
that Col. Robertson said there had been a great deal of blood spilled
in his settlement, and that he would come and sweep it clean with our
blood. This caused our young warriors to assemble together to meet him,
as he told Codeatoy that the first mischief that should be done, he
would come; and we knew of course it would not be long before something
might happen, as there are Creeks daily going to that settlement; and
as they expect to suffer for the doings of others, they resolved they
would meet him, or go to the settlements and do mischief, as they
were to be the sufferers, do it who would. But with the assistance of
Bloody Fellow, John Watts, and some other head men, we have sent them
to their different homes, and to mind their hunting, in hopes you will
not suffer any of your people to send any more threatening talks. We
took pity upon the innocent that might suffer on both sides, which
undoubtedly would have been the case. As I have always listened to your
talks, I hope you will listen to mine, and have peace.”[10]
Gov. Blount writes to Gen. Robertson, March 8th, 1794:
“Your letter of 6th Feb., sent express by James Russell, was handed to
me much stained with his blood by Mr. Shannon, who accompanied him.
Russell was wounded by a party of Indians who ambuscaded him about
eighteen miles from South West Point, which he with difficulty reached,
and was obliged to continue there for several days before he could be
removed. He is now in the hands of a skilful surgeon, and it is hoped
will recover. His fifty dollars have been dearly earned; but instead of
complaining, he may rejoice that he has so often escaped.”[11]
In a letter from John McKee to “The Glass” and other chiefs of the
lower towns of the Cherokee nation, he speaks of an expectation on
their part that he would meet them on the middle ground for a “ball
play.” This was a national game, by which parties sometimes decided
their claims to disputed land. It was a manly sport often witnessed by
assembled thousands.
The following description of the game is furnished by a gentleman of
Nashville, who has lived among the Indians.
The contending parties always consist of twelve on a side--twenty-four
in all, selected from among the most athletic men in the station. Each
side is headed by one who is captain, or principal man. The ball used
on such occasions was generally made of the common punk, obtained from
the knots of trees, or some soft dry root, and is always covered with
dressed buckskin, and about the size of a walnut. The ball is never
to be touched with the hands, but is caught, held, and thrown with a
set of sticks made expressly for the purpose. The ball stick is made
of a piece of tough wood, about six feet in length, and the thickness
of a small walking-stick, reduced one half in the middle, for about
ten inches. The piece of wood is then bent till the ends are brought
together, forming a bowl something like the bowl of a spoon, while the
two strips of wood are wrapped together from the bowl to the ends with
a leathern string, to make the handle; the bowl being finished with
buckskin strings, fastened to the wood on all sides, and crossing each
other, forming meshes like a fine seine, and left loose so as to bag a
little. The ball-stick, when finished, was a spoon with a bowl about as
large as a man’s hand, and a handle some three feet long. Each man is
furnished with two sticks, which together would hold as much as a quart
measure.
The playground is generally laid off east and west, and the two poles
are placed from a quarter to half a mile from each other. The poles are
two stakes put up about twenty yards apart, and the ball has to pass
between these two stakes in order to count one in the game. Halfway
between the poles a line is drawn; those who wish the ball to pass
through the western pole, take their stand about twenty yards east of
the centre line, and those in favor of the eastern pole take their
position about the same distance on the west of the line. While the two
captains take their stand at the division line, the ball is laid upon
the ground, on the centre line. One of the captains takes it up with
his sticks, and throws it up some thirty or forty feet; and then the
game begins. The two captains, one in favor of the western, the other
of the eastern pole, as the ball descends, contend for it, leaping
as high as they can, while the sticks rattle and crash together;
should these two be of equal strength and expertness in the game,
the contention may be long and fierce, and it sometimes so happens
that they struggle until perfectly exhausted, without the ball taking
a start for either pole. At other times the ball is caught in its
descent, and hurled with great rapidity towards one of the poles; but
whatever direction it takes, it meets the opposition of eleven persons
who have taken their stand in that direction, by some of whom it is
sure to be caught and hurled in a different direction. I have seen the
ball hurled back and forward in this way for minutes together. At other
times I have seen the whole twenty-four contend pell-mell together for
several seconds, while a spectator could not tell where the ball was.
Again, I have seen the whole party take a right angular direction to
the poles, in consequence of the hand being interrupted at the moment
of throwing the ball, and thus work away entirely without the limits of
the playground, until recalled by the judges.
There is no time for breathing, from the moment the ball is thrown up
at the centre line, until it passes through one of the poles, unless
the judges should call them off for the purpose of recess; and never
have I seen human beings so much fatigued as at the end of one of these
strains.
One thing which I have observed extremely objectionable in these
plays, is this; any one of the party is allowed to _double up_ his
antagonist, notwithstanding they are not permitted to strike, scratch,
or bruise each other. The _doubling_ is done in the following manner:
One will catch his antagonist, throw him upon his back, take him by the
feet, elevate them, and press his head and shoulders upon the ground
until the poor fellow is disabled in the back. This practice results
sometimes in rendering the individual so helpless, that he has to be
carried off the ground.
The only clothing carried into a ball-play, is the belt, with a piece
of some kind of cloth about eighteen inches square, appended in front;
but they generally come out of these plays, as far as clothing is
concerned, about as they came into the world. There is always the
same number in reserve that are engaged in the play, so that when one
is disabled, another supplies his place, in order that the number,
twenty-four, may be kept up. There are two sets of judges; six for and
six against the western pole, take their position there; and in like
manner at the eastern pole. The ball has to pass twelve times between
the same pole, or stakes, before the game ends.
In 1794, Mrs. Robertson went on horseback into South Carolina
accompanied by her eldest son, to bring out her aged parents, who
had removed to that State with some of their children. They returned
to Tennessee with their daughter, who was now able to offer them a
comfortable home, and under her roof the remainder of their days
passed in peace and comfort. Both lived beyond the eightieth year of
their life, and had the passage to the grave smoothed by the devoted
attentions of an affectionate daughter, and her equally devoted
children.
At the period of most imminent danger to the settlement, Mrs. Robertson
was often deprived of the support which kept the other women from
despondency. Her husband was looked upon as the special protector of
the infant colony, and had laborious duties to perform for its security
and comfort. He was obliged every year to take the long and hazardous
journey through the wilderness to North Carolina, for the purpose
of attending the sessions of the Legislature, and using his utmost
endeavors to have the aid of that body extended to the feeble and
distant settlement on the Cumberland. This was done by Gen. Robertson
for eight or ten years in succession, and while thus absent from home
a great part of his time, he and his family were exposed to perils of
various kinds, and obliged to remain ignorant for long intervals of
each other’s condition. For fourteen years these trials, endured by
Mrs. Robertson and her family, called for their utmost fortitude and
energy to bear up under them, and under harassing anxiety for the fate
of their absent guardian, exposed unprotected to the attacks of savage
enemies.
On one occasion, Gen. Robertson and his eldest son, Jonathan, then
nearly grown to manhood, went into the surrounding woods to see after
some horses that had gone astray. The General had a led horse, and did
not take his gun. They had scarcely entered the woods when they were
fired on by five or six Indians who lay in ambush near the path. A ball
passed through the young man’s thigh and entered his horse’s side; the
father also received two balls, one fracturing the bones of his left
arm just above the wrist, the other passing through the flesh of his
right arm without injuring the bone. Jonathan’s horse, maddened by
fright and the wound, became unmanageable, and plunged so violently,
that fearing the animal might fall with him, and entangle him beyond
escape, he raised himself in his stirrups and leaped to the ground,
alighting on his feet. He then turned on the Indians, who rushed
towards him, and prepared to fire, while the savages ran to the shelter
of trees to protect themselves. One was behind a tree not large enough
to screen his body, and young Robertson taking aim, fired at him; then
hastened after his father, whose horse, released for the moment from
the control of the bridle by the disabling of the rider’s hands, had
dashed off furiously in a different direction from the fort. When the
General heard his son shouting to him, he checked the animal, and the
young man sprung on the back of the led horse, which had followed close
on the heels of the other. The whole scene occurred within the hearing
of the inmates of the fort, and as the fugitives were compelled to take
a circuitous route to reach a place of safety, it may be imagined what
were the feelings of the wife and mother during a prolonged period of
fearful suspense, when the probabilities that her husband and son were
murdered or captive, increased with every passing moment. The Indian
Jonathan had shot, was found afterwards so badly wounded that he died
in a few days. His gun and shot-bag were found secreted under a log
near the tree, the bark of which had been scalped by the bullet.
A short time after Jonathan’s marriage, he determined on making a
settlement on some land he had purchased, a mile or so from his
father’s fort. He built a cabin, and commenced clearing the land; but
was prevented by other occupations from continuing his work, and hired
a man by the name of Hiland to carry it on. This laborer went to the
place alone; but had been employed only a few days, when returning one
evening from his work, he cut a large bundle of green cane, and was
carrying it on his shoulder to his house; the rustling of this cane
afforded a party of Indians a fair opportunity of coming up behind him
without being perceived, and as he was in the act of throwing the cane
over the fence, they shot him down and scalped him. Gen. Robertson,
hearing of the occurrence, determined, if possible, to insure future
security to the settlers by pursuing and cutting off these marauding
parties, and issued an order to Capt. Thomas Murray, to raise a company
of volunteers and overtake the Indians, or pursue them into the very
heart of the nation. A detachment was raised; the settlers, anxious to
strike a blow for their own security, joining in large numbers, and
the pursuit was commenced with a hundred and ten mounted men. After a
few days, the spies reported the Indians encamped on the Tennessee at
the Muscle Shoals; the company attacked the camp, and several of the
savages were killed, some making their escape, and two squaws being
captured.
Young Robertson, meanwhile, was not discouraged from prosecuting his
enterprise, but removed to his new place with his wife, and a negro
named Ephraim. Determined to persevere in preparing the land and
making a home for his family, he engaged two of his wife’s cousins,
named Cowen, to assist him in his labors. They were all at work one
day in the clearing, and were as usual summoned to dinner by a call
from the house. They had stacked their arms against a large tree some
fifty yards from the edge of the clearing, and between that and the
house. It had been settled between them that in case of an attack by
Indians, they should rush instantly to seize their arms, each take
a tree, and make a stand against the enemy. On hearing the call to
dinner, the men laid down their working implements, and stopped to
push up the brush which had not been consumed into the brush-piles,
not perceiving that several Indians had crept along under cover of the
woods, and approached very near them. The moment they discovered the
enemy, they sprang forward to secure their arms, while the savages,
who had reached the edge of the clearing by the time the white men
gained their weapons, rushed in pursuit. The directions previously
agreed upon were observed, and each pioneer snatched his gun and sprang
behind a tree. At the moment Robertson raised his gun, he perceived
an Indian partly concealed behind another tree, and preparing to
fire. His body projected far enough beyond the cover to afford a fair
chance of hitting him; Robertson fired, and at the same instant the
Cowens did also. This spirited defence alarmed the Indians; they began
to retreat, and had disappeared in the cane before their foes could
reload. Meanwhile poor Ephraim, who had a terror of gunpowder, could
not stand his ground with the rest of the party, but hastened with all
his speed towards the house; and when, after the flight of the enemy,
the white men raised the Indian yell by way of a triumph note, the
affrighted negro, rushing into the cabin, gave the inmates reason to
suppose that all their friends were killed and scalped. This horrible
fear, however, was soon dissipated by the appearance of the victorious
settlers returning to the house. One of the Cowens was slightly wounded
in the hand, and the rim of Robertson’s hat on one side was nearly
severed from the crown by an Indian bullet, but no other injury had
been received. This incident is worthy of notice, as the only instance
during the period of the Indian troubles in which white men, fired on
while at work in the field, made a stand, and succeeded in driving off
the assailants. It was afterwards ascertained from the Indians that
five of their number had been either killed or wounded so desperately
that they died before reaching home. It should be mentioned that one
of the pioneers used a British musket loaded with rifle bullets, and
fired at a number of Indians together as they rushed into the thin
cane bordering the clearing. It was believed the party of savages had
numbered fifteen.
An instance of female heroism which occurred at a station some six
miles west of Nashville, may be here related. Mrs. Dunham, the wife of
one of the pioneers, while sitting in her house at work--her little
children playing in the yard--heard them scream out suddenly, and
rushing to the door, saw them running from several Indians. One of the
savages was in the act of clutching her daughter, six or seven years of
age, and succeeded in laying hold of the child, a few yards from the
door. There were no men on the premises; but the mother seized a hoe
standing against the house near the door, and rushed at the Indian with
the uplifted weapon. Before she came near enough to strike him with
it, however, he let go the child, who ran into the house, the mother
following. The Indian pursued them closely, and pushed his gun into
the door before it could be closed, to shoot Mrs. Dunham. She kept
her hold of the door, and slammed it to violently, catching the gun
between it and the door-post, and holding it with all her force, while
the savage tried in vain to get the weapon released. She then, with
singular presence of mind, called aloud as if to some person within,
“Bring me that gun!” The Indian understood enough of English to know
her meaning, and believing there were other persons in the house, he
left his gun and made off. The other children had found shelter in the
house, and were thus preserved from massacre by their mother’s energy
and self possession.
Mrs. Dunham’s oldest son, Daniel--a boy nine or ten years of age--had a
remarkable escape. He was out playing one day with two or three other
boys a little larger than himself, and the youthful party carelessly
wandered a short distance out of gunshot of the fort. They were
observed by some Indians who resolved to take them prisoners. This
was a more profitable business than killing them, as they could make
useful servants of the captives, or obtain a large ransom for them
from their bereaved friends. With this object, the savages left their
guns, and crept stealthily as near the boys as the nature of the ground
permitted them to do without being seen. As they rose upon their feet
to spring forward and seize their prey, the boys saw them, gave a cry
of alarm, and instantly started in a life and death race for the fort.
Young Dunham, the smallest lad, was the hindmost, but he fled with the
speed of a frightened fawn, closely pursued, however, his enemy gaining
ground upon him, till just as he came within the range of protection
from the fort, the Indian overtook him, and laid hold of his flannel
hunting shirt. Throwing his arms back suddenly, the nimble boy slipped
out of the garment and ran on, leaving the disappointed savage holding
his trophy, for he dared not pursue the fugitive any further.
Through a multitude of such trials Mrs. Robertson was preserved. She
was the mother of eleven children, and lived to an advanced age,
leaving a number of descendants, useful and prosperous citizens in
the valley to which she came as a pioneer. She witnessed the gradual
growth of the place selected as her home from a wilderness to a rude
settlement, and thence to a town of importance. In 1805 Nashville
boasted but one brick house, although Market-street and a few others
were laid out. There was a log schoolhouse, and the wild forest
encircled the future capital. There was difficulty at that time in
procuring supplies of provisions; it took three or four months to go to
and from New Orleans in the flat-bottomed boats, which always started
as soon as the waters rose, and returned in the spring laden with
groceries, grain, and various articles for provision and clothing. Furs
were procured of the Indians. There were at that period no good schools
in the valley, and pupils were sent to Carolina and the Eastern States
to be educated, by parents who were able to afford the expense. Stores
for use or trading purposes were sometimes brought in wagons from
Baltimore and Philadelphia, through the eastern portion of Tennessee;
but pack-horses had been generally used. Two men could manage ten or
fifteen horses, carrying each about two hundred pounds, by tying one
to the other in single file, one man taking charge of the leading, the
other of the hindmost horse, to keep an eye on the proper adjustment
of the loads, and to stir up any that appeared to lag. Bells were
indispensable accompaniments to the horses, by which they could be
found in the morning when hunting up preparatory to a start. Grass or
leaves were inserted in the bells to prevent the clapper from moving
during the travel of the day. The first wagon-load of merchandize
brought over the mountains on the southern route, is said to have been
in 1789, when it was nearly a month making a trip of one hundred and
forty miles.
“The water-craft used in descending the Ohio in those primitive times,
were flat boats made of green oak plank, fastened by wooden pins to a
frame of timber, and caulked with tow or any other pliant substance
that could be procured. Boats similarly constructed on the northern
waters, were called “arks,” but on the Western rivers they were
denominated Kentucky boats. The materials of which they were composed
were found useful in constructing temporary buildings for safety
and protection against the inclemency of the weather, after they had
arrived at their destination.”[12]
In early life Mrs. Robertson became a member of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, and with her husband joined the first society of that
denomination organized in the country, under the preaching of Wilson
Lee. The class met to hear the word preached and for social communion,
about three miles west of Nashville. She continued an exemplary member
of this Church to her death.
In all the relations of life she was faithful, and strict in the
performance of every duty. Her manners were modest, unassuming and
gentle; she was kind and affectionate in her family, a most devoted
and loving mother, and a careful, though indulgent mistress. She was
ever open-hearted and benevolent, soothing the ills she had no power to
remove. Her industrious habits and self-denying virtues were an example
to all who knew her, and she was esteemed and beloved by a large circle
of friends and acquaintances. In person she was rather above the
medium size, with a symmetrical form, and regular, interesting, and
expressive features. She retained to the close of life the faculties
of mind and body in uncommon vigor; and in the full expectation of a
glorious immortality calmly closed her eyes on the scenes of earth in
her ninety-third year, June 11th, 1843, at the house of her son-in-law,
John B. Craighead, three miles west of Nashville.
General Robertson was engaged during the greater part of his life in
public service. In his latter years he was appointed Indian agent in
the Choctaw nation, where he died in 1814. His bones were removed
some years since from the Indian lands, and deposited in the burial
ground at Nashville. The sons murdered by the Indians were Peyton
Henderson, eleven years of age, and James Randolph, about twenty.
With the exception of these, and an infant daughter, the children of
Mrs. Robertson lived to marry and have families of their own. Three
daughters and two sons are living at this date, and Dr. Robertson, one
of the sons, is one of the most highly esteemed citizens of Nashville.
V.
JANE BROWN.