members of a band, or enticed into the place by some other means
for the sole purpose of robbery, is recorded by many early writers;
none of them, however, gives any details. All authors who touch on
the Cave’s history publish statements based on what other men and
women heard other people had experienced while in the hands of
the outlaws. Only one instance has been found in which the victim
himself (Dr. Charles H. Webb) recited to an author the details of
how he was decoyed to the Cave and how he escaped from the men then
occupying the place. The old flatboat robbers and flatboat wreckers
left no first-hand accounts of the methods they employed.
The year 1788 roughly marks the beginning of the big inflow
of settlers into the region west of the Alleghenies, also the
beginning of counterfeiting and other outlawry at Cave-in-Rock.
Many travelers and home-seekers followed the trails and went into
the interior afoot, on horseback, or in wagons; others took the
river to some river point and either settled there, or proceeded
overland to an inland section. Thus, by “long lines of wagons”
and “great fleets of boats” the middle West became settled. In
the meantime many a small party traveled alone over the trails or
drifted down the river in a single boat or in a small fleet, into
the new and sparsely populated country, and became easy prey for
highway robbers or river pirates who were likely to appear at any
time and in any disguise.«3»
The earliest connection of the Cave with the name of any outlaw
who became famous was in 1797, when Samuel Mason, of Revolutionary
fame and hideous fate, seems to have occupied it as a main trap for
his carefully worked out scheme of river piracy on a large scale.
He erected a great rude sign on the river bank near the mouth of
the Cave, proclaiming to every passerby that his “Liquor Vault and
House for Entertainment” was open to the public. Many captains and
their crews and many flatboat passengers were lured to it. After
Mason and his family left for the South, most of the succeeding
bands, during their necessarily short stay, operated a gambling and
drinking place on the same principle.
It was a common practice among outlaws frequently to change not
only their headquarters but their names. While at Cave-in-Rock
Mason was also known as “Wilson.” Thomas Ashe, who wrote about
it, probably did not know that the Wilson he described was Samuel
Mason. Among the various men who appeared after the departure of
Samuel Mason, alias “Wilson,” was one Jim Wilson. Whether Jim
Wilson was his real name is not known. However, between Samuel
Mason as “Wilson” and a later man known as “Jim Wilson” there
has been more or less confusion for almost a century, especially
in tradition. In 1897 William Courtney Watts wrote a historical
romance, _Chronicles of a Kentucky Settlement_, in which he
presents James Ford, of Ford’s Ferry notoriety, as “James Wilson.”
James Ford was in no way connected with Mason or with Wilson, but
his presentation under the fictitious name of “James Wilson” had
added to the already existing confusion.
After James Ford’s death, which occurred in 1833--and many years
before Watts applied the name of “James Wilson” to him--a writer
published a sketch of the career of one Jim Wilson at the Cave.
This sketch is here recapitulated, not as a story that can be
verified in all its details by history, but as a semi-historical
tale which may convey a better idea of the methods, life, and fate
of the Cave’s outlaws than formal history. Only one who will make a
study of the Cave’s past--from the available authenticated records
down to some of its absurd traditions--will recognize this story
as a picture in which facts fairly divide the scene with fiction,
and painted in colors that bring joy to the hearts of readers of
dime novels. When and by whom it was written or first published has
not been ascertained. It apparently was not written before 1836,
for the author, in his introduction, attempts a description of the
Cave as it appeared that year. The writer evidently had read Thomas
Ashe’s account published in 1808, and was also familiar with some
of the Cave’s printed history and oral traditions. The story was
probably first published in an old magazine or newspaper. In 1893
it appeared, anonymously and without credit, in the _Crittenden
Press_, of Marion, Kentucky. From that weekly it was copied by many
newspapers in the lower Ohio Valley, and is now preserved, under
various titles, in many a scrap book.
This old story is interesting because it was written when stories
of the Cave were still fresh. Inaccuracies and confusions of names
and dates may have crept in, but it remains the first concise and
inherently reasonable account of how the Cave was first occupied as
a den by river criminals. In the presentation of the usual method
of the Cave’s renegades, it matters very little whether the first
of those desperate captains of crime bore the name of Wilson,
Mason, or Harpe. In this case it seems clearly the story of Samuel
Mason about 1797. The names they assumed might vary with every
flatboat or raft that passed. An alias is ever the shield of the
criminal. The story describes not only a method actually employed
by the Cave’s outlaws for many years, but also a method by which
the career of more than one of these river pirates was, as we shall
see later, so tragically terminated. The story runs, as follows:
“About the year 1809, one Jim Wilson, a flatboatman, while passing
down the Ohio, was overtaken by a terrific storm. He steered his
boat under the shelter of a cliff. On landing he observed the
opening of the cave. He was attracted by the commodious rooms with
dry ceilings and sanded floors, and resolved that on his return to
Pittsburgh he would bring his family hither.
“In the following spring Wilson’s boat again landed at the foot
of the cliff. This time he was not alone, but with him came his
wife, five children, two slaves, and William Hall, the great
counterfeiter. His boat was loaded with provisions, stores,
liquors, and arms, which he had stolen from the government
warehouse at Fort Pitt on the night before his departure. The great
cave was soon transformed into a dwelling and tavern large enough
to accommodate several travelers.
“Wilson’s object for landing and establishing himself in so
remote and romantic headquarters will be seen hereafter. A sign
was planted at the water’s edge bearing these words: ‘Wilson’s
Liquor Vault and House for Entertainment.’ This novel sign had a
magnetic effect upon the boatmen who were almost daily passing en
route to southern markets, with flatboats loaded with produce.
The boat crews were generally jovial fellows, fond of rum, rest,
and merriment, and hardly a boat passed without stopping. Many
were the guests at Wilson’s Tavern; thieves and gamblers stopped
off here and in a few months the place became infamous for its
licentiousness and blasphemy.
“Wilson had been for many years a deep-dyed criminal and only came
here that he might vary his crimes, and have a wider field for
operation. Out of his guests he soon formed a band of the most
noted robbers, murderers, and counterfeiters that, for two years,
had no parallel in modern history. Their headquarters were at the
Cave, but they had many stations along the Ohio above and below,
which were maintained for the purpose of preventing suspicion being
cast upon the genial landlord at the Cave. The principal station
was at Hurricane Island, where forty-five men were stationed all
the time.
“Each boat that landed at the Cave was captured and such of the
crew as would not join Wilson’s Gang were allowed to drift on to
Hurricane Island where they were again captured and the remainder
of the crew foully murdered and their bodies cast into the Ohio.
With new pilots and crews the boats and cargoes were taken to New
Orleans, and converted into cash which was conveyed to the Cave
through the wilderness of Kentucky and Tennessee.
“Many boats loaded with valuable cargoes left port on the upper
Ohio and its tributaries, under the guidance of experienced and
trustworthy officers. The officers and crews never returned. No
returns for sales were ever received. It soon became a mystery that
so many honorable men never came back to pay over the proceeds,
and to tell the perils of their voyage. It was many months before
any serious suspicions were created. After that it was found that
the cargoes were disposed of by entirely different crews from
those entrusted with them. There was but limited postal or other
communication in those days--letters of special importance were
carried by messengers who often fell into the hands of Wilson’s
men. Thereby they kept posted and, by changing the communication
to suit their purposes, and forwarding them by different carriers,
often thwarted the attempt of justice, and kept their whereabouts
enveloped in mystery for many months. ‘But it is a long lane that
hath no turn.’ It was finally ascertained that no tidings could be
had of any boat after it had passed certain points on the Ohio near
Wilson’s Tavern.
“A meeting of the Pittsburgh shippers was called and it was
determined to ferret out the mystery. This would be a shrewd piece
of detective work which would be attended by many dangers. A large
reward was offered for information as to the exact location of
the robber band. John Waller, a determined and ambitious man of
Maysville, Kentucky, resolved to secure the reward or perish in
the attempt. He was furnished with a cargo contributed by various
shippers along the Ohio, and with five trusted companions he set
out early in the spring of 1810. They floated with the current
many days. At last one evening they came in sight of the Cave, and
were attracted by the novel sign and also the presence of several
females on the bank, who made gestures for them to land. They held
a hasty consultation and resolved to land; a few sweeps of the
steering oar brought them to the foot of the cliff.”
That which follows this clear description of ordinary circumstances
is evidently a mixture of fact and fiction that represents the
imaginative style of the day. It is quite plain that the author
himself had not personally visited the Cave, but had relied upon
the fictions of Thomas Ashe or the reflections from Ashe’s account
that had gained circulation and belief. He accepts the mythical
“upper cave” and has the Cave divided off into rooms and a
“council chamber,” no relics of which have ever been reported by
any matter-of-fact observer from that time to this. The leader,
“Jim Wilson,” he converts into a semi-savage with matted and
tangled hair and beard, who is yet a shrewd trader and an orator of
no mean power for his day. On the occasion of the initiation of new
recruits Jim Wilson delivers a romantic and argumentative speech
that is equal to the best fiction of the times.
The story narrates graphically how Waller and his men were overawed
and compelled, under fear, to agree to join the robber band;
how they were received into it with melodramatic ceremonies and
then were oath-bound, but not fully trusted; how they made their
escape--the savage and astute robbers being, of course, fooled for
the exigencies of the event; how the Waller force combined with
its waiting reinforcements, returned, captured Jim Wilson and then
went to Hurricane Island and destroyed that part of the band; and
how eventually “Jim Wilson’s head was severed, his body buried ...
the head identified and delivered to the proper authorities at
Pittsburgh ... and the captors received the merited reward.” This
last point is plainly an echo of Mason’s fate.
This story of the activities of the early renegades of
civilization, and of the river pirates who occupied the Cave bears
upon its face the stamp of truth that fits neatly into practically
all traditions from about 1795 to about 1820.
Before Mason became famous, however, greater scoundrels than he
were to attract public attention, and hold it for some years.
The story of the Harpes--“Big” and “Little” Harpe--is one that
may freeze the blood as read now in the light of old records and
personal accounts that seem to bring the reader into the very
presence of these two brutes. In the security of law and order in
these days the facts seem remote, but when the sparse settlement of
the West in 1799 is realized, and the further fact that wilderness
hospitality opened doors to all travelers and admitted these
monsters freely with good people, it is possible then to conceive
the horror their deeds and presence aroused.
The Harpes--A Terrible Frontier Story
The career of the two Harpes«4» in Tennessee, southern Illinois,
and Kentucky, particularly Kentucky, at the close of the eighteenth
century has rarely been equalled in the history of crime, either in
peace or war. Its beginning was so sudden, its motives wrapped in
such mystery, its race so swift, and its circumstances so terrible
and unbelievably brutal as to justify Collins, the distinguished
historian of Kentucky, in referring to the brothers as “the most
brutal monsters of the human race.”
At that time, 1798–99, Kentucky had a pioneer population of about
two hundred thousand, which was largely centered in the new
trading and agricultural towns in the eastern part and in the rich
bluegrass country. The remainder of the state, except along the
water courses, was well nigh a wilderness. In the southern and
western portions buffalo grazed, and bear were plentiful. East
Tennessee, where the scourge of crime began, was even more sparsely
settled. This pioneer population was vigorous, rude, and accustomed
even to Indian atrocities. Among the settlers were many who, as
fugitives from justice, had deliberately sought seclusion from the
eastern states because of criminal offenses. The Ohio River was
infested with inland pirates, and the early rivermen themselves
were a rough and violent type. Isolation led well-meaning pioneers
to be generous and confiding to those whom they had tested, but
to a great degree might was right, and strangers looked askance at
each other and were prepared for the worst.
Yet such a rude and hardy people as these were gripped with horror
at the atrocities of the Harpes, at their often unmeaning and
unprovoked murders. It is difficult in these days of well ordered
government to realize the mysterious terror and excitement that
began near Knoxville in 1798 and swept through the wilderness to
the borders of the Mississippi, and across the Ohio into Illinois
like some sudden, creeping fire that breaks out in underbrush, and
grows steadily in intensity and rage until it sweeps forests before
it. All this was, in a measure, realized in the breasts of human
beings as the hideous crimes of the Harpes increased.
Aside from the wars and the recorded importances of political
development, the episode of the Harpes is the most astounding event
in the early life of the Middle West. It engaged the memory of men
for forty years, and the pens of numerous historians, and writers
of memoir have been occupied with it ever since. In the main the
story has been well preserved, but in the details there has been
the variation that grows with repetition. The most dignified
historians have not disdained to seek the minute details attaching
to the persons and actions of these two men from the moment they
began their criminal career to the thrilling blood-chase in which
the older brother was captured and killed, and the younger escaped
into exile and to an even more dramatic and terrible death.
To this day the story of “The Harpes” and “Harpe’s Head” is told
about firesides in the Cave-in-Rock country, in southern and
western Kentucky and in eastern Tennessee. It has been perpetuated
in folk ballads and written by scores of pens. [93]
It is the purpose here to bring together the many threads of the
tale as they have been verified and corrected by original records
sought from Wisconsin to New Orleans, and from Knoxville to
Cave-in-Rock and the Mississippi River.
Judge James Hall, while living in Illinois, wrote a brief account
of one of the crimes committed by these outlaws, and in April,
1824, published it in _The Port Folio_ of Philadelphia. In his
introductory remarks he comments: “Neither avarice nor want nor
any of the usual inducements to the commission of crime, seemed
to govern their conduct. A savage thirst for blood--a deep-rooted
enmity against human nature, could alone be discovered in their
actions.... Plunder was not their object; they took only what would
have been freely given them, and no more than what was necessary
to supply the immediate wants of nature; they destroyed without
having suffered injury, and without the prospect of benefit....
Mounted on fine horses they plunged into the forest, eluded pursuit
by frequently changing their course, and appeared unexpectedly to
perpetrate new horrors, at points distant from those where they
were supposed to lurk.”
Judge Hall, up to that time, had done little more than describe
one of their last crimes, yet _The Cincinnati Literary Gazette_,
May 28, 1825, came out with a statement admitting that there may
have been two outlaws by the name of Harpe, but added: “We have
no hesitation in asserting that their history, as published in
_The Port Folio_, is unworthy of belief.... The horrible details
concerning these men ... such disgusting sketches of human
depravity and barbarism manifest either a vitiated taste or a total
disregard of the morals of the community.”
As far as is now known, at least two papers published in the
month following came to the defense of Judge Hall’s account. _The
Illinois Gazette_, of Shawneetown, among other things, declared:
“The depravity and bloodshed which marked their existence ... are
circumstances too strongly impressed upon the recollections of our
early settlers to be contradicted at this date.”
_The Columbian_, of Henderson, Kentucky, in a half column article
devoted to the same subject, asserts: “The account published in
_The Port Folio_ is correct in every essential point.... However it
may be regretted that such monsters as the Harpes ever should have
existed to disgrace humanity, yet it is an uncontrovertible fact.” [56]
In the August, 1825, issue of _The Port Folio_ Judge Hall published
an account of another murder committed by the Harpes--the killing
of Thomas Langford, who was among their first victims in Kentucky.
In the same number he devotes a few pages to a verification of the
statements he published then and a few months previous. And before
half had been told about the Harpes, _The Cincinnati Literary
Gazette_ was convinced of its error in doubting and disputing the
veracity of Judge Hall. Judge Hall wrote several pages justifying
the publication of the weird and wonderful facts of the career of
the Harpes. His arguments published in 1825 in his own defense hold
good today and may be equally well applied to the story of the
Harpes here given, which, as far as is known, is the first attempt
to compile a complete history of these notorious outlaws:
“If it is intended to be objected, that these ‘horrid details,’
even if true, are not proper for publication--I reply, that
whatever tends to develop the history or character of a people, is
a legitimate subject of public discussion. History to be of any
value must be true. It must disclose not only the truth but the
whole truth. In vain would the historian seek this in the frail
monuments vaguely preserved in the uncertain legend of tradition.
He must resort to national records and to the testimony of writers
contemporary with the events which he attempts to describe, and
if the latter abstain from the narration of ‘disgusting sketches
of human depravity and barbarism,’ history must be curtailed
of her most fruitful source of incident, and men and nations
stripped of their boldest peculiarity. It is perhaps forgotten
that ‘depravity and barbarism’ constitute almost the sole basis
of history, tragedy, and the epic song; that kings and courts are
nothing without them; that they revel amid ‘the pomp, pride, and
circumstance of glorious war;’ and stand forth in bold relief in
every department of civil subordination. It is to be deplored that
such is the fact; but while crime and folly continue to predominate
in the affairs of men, they will be found to swell the pages of
those who attempt to exhibit correct pictures of human nature.
“In describing the American backwoodsmen, a class of men peculiar
to our country, I have thought it proper to introduce among other
authentic anecdotes the story of the Harpes. My object was to
display as well the extraordinary sufferings to which the earliest
emigrants to the western country were exposed, as the courage with
which they met and repelled those hardships.”
The Harpes were believed to be brothers. They were natives of North
Carolina. Micajah, known as Big Harpe, was born about 1768, and
Wiley, known as Little Harpe, was born about 1770. Their father
was said to have been a Tory who fought under the British flag at
King’s Mountain and took part in a number of other battles against
the colonists. Before the close of the Revolution and immediately
thereafter many of the Tories living in the south Atlantic colonies
fled toward the Mississippi. Those who still sympathized with the
King of England and continued to live in the “Old States” were, in
most sections, ostracized by their neighbors. It was to this class
that the parents of the Harpes belonged; and it was, therefore, in
an environment of hatred for and by neighbors that the two sons
grew up.
About the year 1840 Colonel G. W. Sevier, son of Governor John
Sevier, in an interview with Lyman C. Draper, the historian, stated
that Big Harpe, when asked shortly before he was killed why he had
committed so many crimes, answered that he had been badly treated
and consequently had become disgusted with all mankind. [12G] The
same statement is made by J. W. M. Breazeale, another well-known
early Tennesseean, who had lived in Knoxville the greater part of
his life and had investigated the careers of the outlaws.
One writer attributes their acts of fiendish inhumanity to the fact
that they believed every man’s life, whether good, indifferent or
bad, was predestined and that the All Wise had foreordained for
them a hatred of humanity and a career of crime. [121] Draper, in
his “Sketch of the Harpes,” comments on the fact that “their tawny
appearance and dark curly hair betrayed a tinge of African blood
coursing through their veins.”
Criminologists may or may not agree as to the underlying cause of
the great thirst for blood possessed by the Harpes, but the fact
that they were the most savage and terrible characters in this
period of American history cannot be disputed.
About the year 1795 the two men, accompanied by Susan Roberts and
Betsey Roberts, left North Carolina for Tennessee. Susan claimed
to be the legal wife of Big Harpe, whereas Betsey merely posed as
such. Big Harpe, however, claimed both women as his wives. The
Harpes cared as little for the laws of matrimony as for any other
laws and the legality or illegality of anything they did was a
matter of indifference to them.