and, because of these roads and the salt wells with their “salt
works,” many pioneers considered the section a very desirable one
in which to live. Settlers were constantly coming for a bushel or
two of salt and then returning home. The coming and going of people
therefore attracted less attention along the Highland Lick road
and its by-paths than in most other sections. And since only a few
months before about fifteen outlaws had been killed in Henderson
County, and all the others had been driven out [124] there was
little likelihood of undesirable persons appearing on the scene.
Principally for this reason, the two small families of recent
arrivals on Canoe Creek attracted no particular attention, and
least of all were they suspected of being notorious criminals. A
good description of the Harpes was in wide circulation, and through
General Hopkins they became especially well known in the lower
Green River country. The return of the Harpes seemed as improbable
as a second bolt of lightning in the same spot.
John Slover lived about a mile from the cabin rented by the new
arrivals, but had seen them only once or twice and then from a
distance. Slover’s career as an Indian fighter in eastern Kentucky
was well known to his friends and acquaintances and was often the
subject of discussion at fireside talks. In fact, his escape from
Indian captivity was so singular and romantic that John A. McClung
devoted a whole chapter to it when, in 1832, he published his
_Sketches of Western Adventure_.
One day Slover was hunting near Robertson’s Lick, writes Draper in
his “Sketch of the Harpes,” and, after killing a bear in the woods,
returned to a path leading homeward. While leisurely riding along
he heard the snap of a gun that failed to fire. Quickly turning in
the direction of the sound he recognized his two new neighbors,
well armed and wilder looking than Indians in battle. Comprehending
the great danger of an encounter with two fierce men apparently
prepared for murder, the experienced Indian fighter put spurs to
his horse and escaped. Slover reported this experience to some of
his friends and ventured the opinion that the two men were the
Harpes. None doubted that an unsuccessful attempt had been made to
shoot him but, on the other hand, none agreed with him that the
Harpes had returned and were loitering around the licks.
A day or two later a man named Trowbridge left Robertson’s Lick to
carry some salt to a farm on the Ohio near the mouth of Highland
Creek. Trowbridge never returned, and his disappearance remained a
mystery until a few months later when one of the Harpe women made
known the facts. Trowbridge was killed by the Harpes about eight
miles above the mouth of Highland Creek and his body sunk in the
stream.
When General Hopkins received a report of Slover’s narrow escape,
although doubting the presence of the Harpes, he detailed a number
of men to watch the place on Canoe Creek. While loitering around
their cabin the Harpes evidently not only wore clothes different
from those in which they were seen by Slover, but also managed to
change their general appearance to such an extent that Slover,
inspecting them from a distance, did not recognize the two men as
the same who had attempted to shoot him. The women were nowhere
seen by the spies, for, as learned later, they were waiting for the
Harpes to meet them at some designated place and time. The guards,
after watching the house about a week without results, quietly
returned to their homes, not realizing that the two suspected men
were aware of their movements.
The next day the Harpes started toward the hiding place of their
women and children. They traveled south about fifteen miles to
the home of James Tompkins on Deer Creek, not far from what was
then known as Steuben’s Lick, near which place, according to one
tradition, General Steuben of Revolutionary fame was wounded, some
fifteen years before, by an Indian. They rode good horses. Both
were fairly well dressed and, upon meeting Tompkins, represented
themselves as Methodist preachers. Their equipment aroused no
suspicion, for the country was almost an unbroken wilderness and
preachers as well as most other pioneers, were often seen traveling
well armed. Tompkins invited them to supper, and Big Harpe, to ward
off suspicion, said a long grace at table. In the course of their
conversation one of the Harpes asked their host about his supply of
venison. Tompkins, convinced that he was dealing with men from whom
he had nothing to fear, admitted to shooting no deer lately for the
simple reason that his powder was exhausted and had been for some
time. Big Harpe, with affected generosity, poured a teacupful from
his powder horn and presented it to Tompkins. That same powder,
as we shall see, later performed a most singular service. [28]
Bidding their host a farewell, ministerial in its pretense, the two
desperadoes, pretending to have an engagement some miles south,
took the trail in that direction.
That same evening, however, they made their appearance on the farm
of Squire Silas McBee, one-half mile northwest of Tompkins’ place.
Squire McBee was a justice of the peace and had been active in
fighting outlaws. The murderers were, therefore, very much disposed
to butcher him. It was early in the evening and the moon was
shining brightly when they approached his house. The Squire kept a
half dozen dogs for bear and deer hunting and, hearing an uproar
among them, the McBees went to the door to investigate the cause.
They saw the pack fiercely attacking two men, but, suspecting that
the intruders might be of an unwelcome character, made no effort to
restrain the hounds. After a fierce fight with the dogs, the Harpes
withdrew.
Foiled in their attempt at Squire McBee’s, they proceeded about
four miles northwest and late that night reached the house of Moses
Stegall--about five miles east of what later became the town of
Dixon. Stegall (also spelled Steigal, and various other ways) was
absent, but his wife and their only child, a boy of four months,
were at home and had, only a few hours before, admitted Major
William Love, a surveyor, who had come to see Stegall on business.
Mrs. Stegall, expressing an opinion that her husband would return
that night, invited him to remain. He climbed to the loft above
on a ladder on the outside of the house and was in bed when the
new arrivals entered the cabin. [57] Stegall at one time lived in
Knox County, Tennessee, [21] and evidently was acquainted with the
Harpes, for Mrs. Stegall knew them but had received instructions
from the Harpes never to address them by their real names in the
presence of a third person. [12E] Major Love came down and met
the two men, little suspecting who they were. In the conversation
that followed the murderers themselves inquired about the Harpes
and, among other things, stated that, according to rumor, the two
outlaws were then prowling around in the neighborhood. [27]
Mrs. Stegall, having only the one spare bed in the loft, was
obliged to assign it to the three men. After Major Love had fallen
asleep one of the Harpes took an axe which he always carried in his
belt and, with a single blow, dashed out the brains of the sleeping
man. The two villains then went down to Mrs. Stegall’s room. She,
knowing nothing to the contrary, presumed Major Love was still
asleep. While reprimanding her for assigning them a bed with a man
whose snoring kept them awake, they proceeded to murder her and her
baby. After gathering some bedding and clothing, among which was
Major Love’s hat, and leaving the three bodies in the house, they
set it afire. [27] It was soon a smoking ruin.«11»
Such, briefly, is the account of the killing of Mrs. Stegall
as given by all writers who describe this tragedy and as still
told in western Kentucky by those who are familiar with local
traditions. Breazeale, however, published some details which are
very characteristic of the inhumanity of the Harpes, but which are
not woven into any of the other versions. They are probably omitted
more for the reason that the accounts are sufficiently gruesome
without them than because of the possibility that such brutality
might be questioned.
This version has it that on the morning the two Harpes burnt
Stegall’s house, they arose and asked Mrs. Stegall to prepare
breakfast for them. She consented to do so, explaining that since
her child was not well and she had no one to nurse it the meal
would necessarily be somewhat long in preparation. The men then
suggested that she place the baby in the cradle and let them
rock it. This she did. “After Mrs. Stegall had prepared their
breakfast and the ruthless and savage murderers had partaken of her
hospitality, she went to the cradle to see if the child was asleep,
expressing some astonishment (as Micajah Harpe acknowledged when
he was afterward taken) that her child should remain quiet for so
great a length of time.... She beheld her tender, harmless, and
helpless infant lying breathless, with its throat cut from ear to
ear.... But the relentless monsters stayed not their bloody hands
for the tears and heart-broken wailings of a bereaved mother. They
instantly dispatched her, with the same instrument (a butcher
knife) with which they had cut the throat of the child; then set
fire to the house and fled.” [21]
Before leaving the Stegall farm they stole Major Love’s horse and
one belonging to Stegall. They concealed themselves along the road
that ran between Stegall’s and McBee’s, reasoning that if the
Squire saw the light of the burning house, he would hasten there
in the morning over this road and thus easily become their victim.
While lying in wait for McBee, the outlaws halted two men named
Hudgens and Gilmore, who were returning from Robertson’s Lick with
packs of salt. The Harpes accused them of murdering the Stegall
family and burning the house. The charge was denied, but when the
two prisoners were told they must appear before Squire McBee to
prove their innocence, they willingly submitted to arrest. While
marching them along, Big Harpe purposely dropped behind and shot
Gilmore through the head, killing him instantly. Hudgens, seeing
this, ran away, hoping to escape, but was overtaken by Little
Harpe, who snatched from him his gun and with it beat out his
brains. [12L]
The murderers then resumed their hiding place, watching for the
approach of the expected McBee. In the meantime, John Pyles and
four other men from Christian County, returning from Robertson’s
Lick, found the Stegall house a smouldering ruin, with not a human
being in sight. Surroundings indicating that the disaster was still
unknown in the neighborhood, they proceeded to McBee to notify
him of their discovery. They were unmolested by the Harpes, who
doubtless felt confident that the men would later return over the
same road with McBee and thus give them the hoped for chance to
shoot the justice of the peace from ambush.
McBee knew nothing of the fire until John Pyles reported it. He
immediately rode to the home of William Grissom (or Grisson) who
lived about a mile north of Stegall’s. It so happened that he took
a short trail instead of the main road and thus providentially
escaped the Harpes. He and Grissom, armed and well mounted,
accompanied by Grissom’s family, rode to the Stegall home. They not
only found the house burned to the ground, as described by John
Pyles, but also discovered in the ashes the half-burned remains
of Mrs. Stegall and Major Love. They then proceeded to McBee’s
house, fortunately taking the same short cut over which the Squire
had ridden in the morning. They had scarcely dismounted when
Moses Stegall rode up. Then, for the first time, Stegall heard of
what had happened to his family since he left home. The necessity
of organizing a pursuing party had already been agreed upon and
Stegall was sent to Robertson’s Lick for volunteers. [12M]
That same afternoon or night the Harpes and their women and two
children, with all their goods and horses, began their flight. The
next morning Stegall returned with John Leiper, Matthew Christian,
and Neville Lindsey. These four, with Silas McBee, William
Grissom, and James Tompkins, constituted a party of seven daring
backwoodsmen, who were prepared to pursue and capture the Harpes,
regardless of what danger and hardship the effort might involve.
Then began the chase after the Harpes--a chase made so cold and
dramatic by its results, that for more than a century every
minute detail of it has been sought by historians and by all
who are curious about those full moments when life and death
look each other in the eye with the event hanging on the balance
of an instant. Various have been the accounts printed, nearly
all agreeing in the main features but differing in those small
details, the rendering of which seems to excite as it satisfies the
curiosity of the mind. The most accurate account of this chase of
death was published in September, 1842, in _The Western Literary
and Historical Magazine_. It was prepared by the distinguished
historical collector and author, Lyman C. Draper, who rendered
invaluable service to western annals by gathering and preserving
more data pertaining to the early history of the Middle West than
any other man of his generation. His “Sketch of the Harpes” was
written, as he is careful to explain, after a long conversation
with Squire Silas McBee himself. After its publication the
narrative was submitted for correction to Squire McBee, who made
but four almost immaterial changes, all of which are noted in the
account to follow.
It is well at the outset to point out that Silas McBee was a man
of education and wide experience, more competent than any of the
others engaged in this whirlwind chase to observe and give an
account of all that occurred. He was born in 1765, fought as a
youth at King’s Mountain, as he had in other Revolutionary battles
and Indian wars. He was a brave soldier, an enthusiastic hunter,
and an ideal pioneer of public spirit and character. In Alabama
he served as a member of its first legislature. After living in
western Kentucky, where for many years he did much for the general
good, he removed to Mississippi and died there in 1845 at the age
of eighty. [41] One of his daughters was the wife of Governor
T. M. Tucker, of Mississippi, and another the wife of United States
Senator Thomas H. Williams, of the same state.
Here is the McBee narrative of that famous chase:
“Mounted, and equipped, and provisioned for a few days, the little
troop started about noon on their expedition against the Harpes,
leaving their women and a faithful old negro servant with a few
guns, to defend the temporarily fortified domicil at McBee’s. The
trail of the Harpes was soon struck south of the road leading to
the Lick; and after pursuing it a few miles, a spot was reached
where the outlaws had evidently dispersed a large drove of
buffaloes, with the design, doubtless, of so tramping down and
tangling the wild grass and shrubbery as to render it difficult, if
not impossible, to discover their course of flight. The pursuing
party understood the stratagem, and though a little puzzled at
first, they soon regained the trail, which, however, forked off at
a little distance--the party dividing, followed each for a mile or
two when the elliptical forks again united. After this they had no
difficulty in keeping the path. At nightfall they halted and camped
on the bottom of the western shore of Pond River, a considerable
tributary of Green River. Their simple repast despatched, and
horses secured, they retired to rest--the earth their bed, a wallet
their pillow, and their only covering the broad canopy of heaven.
That night they slept with an eye half open, but nothing occurred,
save a smart dash of rain, to require particular notice.
“Early the following morning the pursuit was resumed, fording Pond
River with ease, and riding on rapidly till an hour after sun up,
when a couple of dead dogs were found in the trail, recognized as
having belonged to the unfortunate Hutchins and Gillmore whom the
Harpes had so wantonly murdered. From the fact that the bodies were
not swollen in such hot August weather, it was inferred that the
dogs had not long been killed, and that the fugitives could not
be far ahead. They had probably killed the dogs to prevent their
barking, and thus the better to enable them to make good their
escape. It was now proposed by Squire McBee, in order to advance
with the least noise, that four of the most expert footmen should
dismount and push on as rapidly as due regard to caution would
permit, leaving the horses for the remaining three to lead along
more leisurely, yet keeping within hailing distance in case of
need. Leiper, Steigal, Christian, and Lindsay, accordingly went
ahead on foot, while McBee, Grissom, and Tompkins followed with
the horses in charge. The pursuit continued in this manner for
a mile or so, when, not finding the outlaws, the footmen again
mounted their horses, and all went on together. But a short time
elapsed before Squire McBee discovered the ruffians on a distant
hill-side, a strip of low land intervening--both on foot with guns
in hand, Big Harpe having a horse by his side, and both holding a
parley with a person on horseback [corrected by Draper to _afoot_]
whom they had apparently just met. McBee exclaimed ‘there they
are,’ pointing towards them, and at the same time putting spurs
to his horse dashed over the low ground and made for the spot.
Big Harpe instantly mounted and darted off in one direction, and
Little Harpe on foot in another, while the other individual rode
[corrected by Draper to _ran_] rapidly towards McBee, and when
within sixty or eighty yards suddenly dismounted [Draper eliminated
‘dismounted’] and betook himself to a tree. Seeing this bellicose
demonstration on the part of an armed man, McBee in the excitement
of the moment, drew up his gun, loaded with two balls, and ‘blazed
away’ at that part of the body exposed to view, both bullets
taking effect, one passing through the right thigh, and the other
the right arm. At this moment Steigal recognised the wounded man
as a settler living up Pond River some two or three miles; and
perceiving some of the rest of the party in the act of levelling
their pieces, Steigal exclaimed ‘don’t shoot, it’s George Smith!’
The unfortunate man, who knew Squire McBee, now calling him by name
apologised for his singular conduct by saying, that he was nearly
bereft of his senses, expecting every moment that the Harpes would
kill him, and when he _treed_ he had not recovered from his fright
and was totally unfitted to perceive the folly and madness of the
act. Little Harpe, he said, had met him with his gun in one hand,
and a kettle in the other, going after water; and made enquiries
about the settlements, speaking in an elevated tone, evidently
that his brother might hear from the camp, not more than eighty
rods distant, and come to his aid--such at least was the effect,
intentional or not, for Big Harpe rode up and dismounted, and had
been there but a few moments when McBee and his party unexpectedly
made their appearance. Smith desired Squire McBee to assist him
home, which with pleasure he consented to do after the Harpes were
secured. He redeemed his promise, and in time Smith recovered both
from his fright and his wounds [corrected by Draper to read: ‘Smith
hobbled home by himself and in due time etc.’].
“After they broke and ran, the outlaws were instantly out of
sight. A little search enabled the pursuers to discover the camp,
which proved to be a natural room perhaps fifteen feet square,
under a shelving rock projecting from the cliff of a ridge facing
the south, with a large rock directly in front, leaving but a
narrow entrance--affording altogether a very secluded and safe
retreat, susceptible of easy defence. The pursuing party were
rather cautious in approaching the camp, but Little Harpe’s woman
alone remained. When questioned about the Harpes, she frankly said
that Big Harpe had just been there, mounted each of his women on
a good horse, and darted off in great haste. She was asked to
point out the direction they had taken, which she readily did--the
men, however, in their hurry, overlooked the trail and returned
to the camp. Squire McBee, thinking she had purposely deceived
them to gain time for Big Harpe and his women, raised his gun and
threatened to kill her instantly if she did not give the correct
information; upon which she went and pointed it out precisely as
she had described it. After perhaps half an hour’s delay in finding
the camp and parleying with the woman, the pursuers again proceeded
with all possible haste, bent on the destruction of Big Harpe, and
fully determined that nothing should divert them from their purpose.
“Squire McBee was left to bring on the prisoner, whom he mounted on
one of the outlaw’s horses, and, though thus encumbered, he kept
nearly up with the party. When about two miles from the camp, Big
Harpe was again discovered on a ridge a short distance ahead, and
some of the party halloed to him to stop, upon which he abandoned
his women to their fate, and dashed on alone--Leiper, in the
meantime, making an ineffectual shot at the fugitive. Tompkins
and Lindsey were left in charge of the two captured women, while
Leiper, Christian, Grisson, and Steigal renewed the chase with
increased animation. Leiper not being able to draw his ramrod,
owing to its swollen condition from the rain of the preceding
night, had exchanged guns with Tompkins. The fleeing outlaw was
closely pressed, Christian, Steigal, and Grisson each giving him
a shot in the pursuit--Christian’s alone taking effect, wounding
him in the leg. Harpe, discovering that Leiper was considerably
in advance of the others, and supposing his gun empty, concluded
to take advantage, as he thought, of the circumstance, and get a
fair shot at his dangerous adversary. He accordingly stopped his
horse, and while renewing his priming, Leiper took unerring aim,
and fired--and the same powder which the outlaws had a few days
previously given Tompkins, now sped the ball that mortally wounded
Big Harpe. Though badly shot through the spine of his back, the
wounded ruffian, determined to sell his life as dearly as possible,
levelled his gun at Leiper; but even that deserted him in his
hour of need--_it snapped_! and he threw it away in disgust. As
Leiper and Christian were rapidly advancing upon him, Steigal and
Grisson having lagged far behind, Harpe drew a large tomahawk and
brandished it furiously to keep off his pursuers, at the same time
urging on his jaded horse as well as he could. Leiper and Christian
kept close at hand, repeatedly calling upon him to surrender, when
he would again brandish his tomahawk in savage defiance. He finally
agreed to surrender himself if they would stop their horses;
accordingly they all reined up, Leiper and Christian dismounted and
made some demonstrations towards loading; perceiving which, Harpe
suddenly dashed off. Leiper’s horse, which had been standing by his
side, though not held by him, now took fright and darted off after
Harpe’s horse. Seeing the accident, Christian instantly mounted
his steed and quickly overtook the runaway horse, returned him to
Leiper, and both without loading renewed the pursuit. They easily
followed the trail through a small canebrake of thick growth, and
just as the fugitive was emerging from it they overhauled him, not
more than half a mile distant from where he had taken French leave.
His horse was walking quite leisurely, and Harpe’s wonted daring
and bravery seemed to have forsaken him; and, faint from the loss
of blood, he had either lost his tomahawk or thrown it away. They
rode up and pulled him from his horse without resistance.