_ANDREW JACKSON, DEPUTY SHERIFF AND FIREMAN._
Russell Bean was not distinguished alone because he was the first white
child born within the limits of what is today the state of Tennessee:
he was said to have been the most perfect specimen of manhood in the
whole country, without an equal for strength, activity and physical
endurance, and absolutely devoid of fear. He was a genius, also: he was
a gunsmith by trade, and it was said that he could make more implements
of war and other things of utility, with fewer tools, than any other
man ever known in that day and country. He went to Connecticut, soon
after he reached manhood, and brought back with him to the western
world a supply of what were then modern tools and supplies, with which
he established a kind of manufactory of arms, etc.
Bean had a flat-bottomed boat built under his directions, and with a
cargo of arms of his manufacture, consisting of rifles, pistols, dirks,
etc., he went alone down the Nolichucky to the Tennessee, thence to the
Ohio, and down the Mississippi to New Orleans, where he remained for
about two years, engaged in foot races, horse racing, cock-fighting
and other sports of the times in that then great city. On returning
to Jonesboro, he found his wife--who was a daughter of Col. Charles
Roberson, and had borne him several children--nursing an infant. Her
seducer, it was said, was a merchant of the town named Allen. Bean
left the house without a word, got drunk, came back, took the baby out
of the cradle, and deliberately cut off both its ears close up to its
head, saying that he “had marked it so that it would not get mixed up
with his children.” He was arrested and, court being in session, he
was tried and convicted of this act of inhuman cruelty, and sentenced,
in addition to other punishment, to be branded in the palm of the
hand. This was done; whereupon he immediately bit out of his hand the
part containing the brand, and spat it upon the ground. He was also
imprisoned, but soon escaped from jail, and was allowed to remain at
large, for the reason that the officers were afraid of him. His wife
soon got a divorce from him; but he was determined to kill Allen, and
it was known that on several occasions he had secretly watched for
him. Failing to get a chance at Allen, who was really in hiding, Bean
sought a difficulty with Allen’s brother, whom he assaulted and beat
unmercifully. For this he was indicted; but, up to the time that court
met with Jackson on the bench, the officers had not been able to arrest
him, or at all events they had not arrested him. They reported to Judge
Jackson that they could not take Bean; that he was out at his cabin, on
the south side of the town, armed, sitting constantly, when at home,
in the door, with his rifle by his side and his pistols in his lap,
defying arrest and threatening to kill the first man who approached his
house. Such was the report made in open court to Judge Jackson, who
immediately ordered: “Summon every man in the court house, and bring
Bean in here dead or alive.” Thereupon the sheriff, with a grim humor
which does him infinite credit, responded, “Then I summon your honor
first!” Jackson at once left the bench, exclaiming, “By the Eternal,
I’ll bring him!”--and he did. He found Bean sitting in his door, as
described by the officers. Jackson approached, pistol in hand, followed
by the crowd at a respectful distance. When he got within shooting
distance. Bean arose, called out, “I’ll surrender to you, Mr. Devil!”
and laid down his arms. Jackson took him to the court room, where he
was tried and fined heavily.
This is the story of the Bean incident, as always told by the old
people in Washington county. Russell Bean was a man of fine appearance
and engaging manners. He was not only a genius, but he was “well
read” for that era, and had picked up, on his trip to Connecticut and
at New Orleans, a great deal of information with reference to other
nations and their affairs. He could have been a leader, but for some
infirmities and peculiarities.
When Parton was preparing his life of Jackson, some one gave him the
information that Col. Charles Roberson, Bean’s father-in-law, was “an
illiterate old man, who had fought under Sevier at King’s Mountain and
made campaigns against the Indians.” This statement, unqualified, does
Col. Roberson injustice. He was one of the heroes of King’s Mountain,
and had engaged in many campaigns against the Indians. He was not an
educated man, but the various responsible positions to which he was
appointed, including that of chairman of the Court of Pleas and Quarter
Sessions, according to early records at Jonesboro, and speaker of the
Senate in the last General Assembly of the State of Franklin, 1787,
testify to his intelligence, as well as the esteem and confidence in
which he was held by his countrymen.
Bean’s divorced wife married again, and moved to Knoxville, where the
unfortunate child died, as did also her second husband. In the course
of a few years, Bean himself drifted to Knoxville, where Jackson met
him and, it is said, brought about a reconciliation between him and his
former wife. They were remarried, and lived happily until the death of
Bean.
Parton fixes the date of the fire incident at Jonesboro at the time of
the Bean incident--after Jackson had been appointed judge. The date
is not material, but Parton’s information must have been incorrect,
or the date of the fire incident, as recollected and given by aged
persons who remembered it and recounted it as late as twenty years ago,
was wrong. According to these old citizens, the fire in which Jackson
distinguished himself was in 1798, while he was stopping in Jonesboro
on his way to Nashville from Philadelphia, after he had resigned the
position of United States Senator. Court was in session, however, when
the fire occurred, as stated by Parton, and Jackson was there mingling
with his friends. He had been there for a few days previous to the
fire, and continued his stay in town for a few days afterward. He was
not stopping at the tavern, but was the guest of one of the families.
The fire originated, near midnight, in the stable that belonged to and
was near the Rawlings tavern. It was soon in a blaze throughout, and
there was no thought of an effort to save it, as it was filled with
hay, oats, fodder, etc. Attention was turned to the tavern, which stood
some two hundred and fifty feet from a creek which runs through the
center of the town. The alarm of fire and the call for help brought
out the entire population, filling the few streets of the village
with men, women and children. When Jackson appeared on the scene, Ben
Boyd, an Irish coppersmith, was calling loudly for buckets and yelling
to the crowd to form a line to the creek; but nobody was paying any
attention to him. Jackson, as was his custom, immediately took command,
and began ordering everybody to get into line, actually taking hold of
men and women and putting them in position, calling for buckets, and
directing the keeper of the tavern to get all of the blankets in the
house and spread them all over the roof. In a few minutes Jackson had
formed two lines from the house to the creek, the lines facing each
other and six or eight feet apart; along one line empty buckets were
passed to the creek, and the full buckets back up the other line to the
tavern, which was the only house in immediate danger. Jackson would
appear, one moment, on the roof, calling down to those in the lines to
stand firm and hurry up the water, and the tavern and town would be
saved; the next seen of him, he would be passing up and down the lines,
urging order and discipline. He was everywhere, and always at the
place where his presence seemed most needed. The tavern was saved, and
nothing burned but the stable. “Jackson saved the town with his bucket
brigade,” was on every lip.
Parton brings Benjamin Boyd to the attention of the nation, in
connection with this fire incident, by saying that, “while Gen. Jackson
was strengthening that part of his line near the creek, a drunken
coppersmith named Boyd, who said that he had seen fires at Baltimore,
began to give orders and annoy persons in the line. Jackson shouted
at Boyd to fall in line, who continued jabbering. Jackson seized a
bucket by the handle, knocked him down, and walked along the line
giving orders as coolly as before.” Ben Boyd’s part in and connection
with the fire incident, as detailed to me “often and again” by persons
who knew all the facts, does not agree with Parton’s account in some
particulars. What is believed to be the true narrative is here given.
Benjamin Boyd was an Irishman, as was Andrew Jackson. He was a
coppersmith by trade, got drunk occasionally, and was drunk on the
night of the fire. He was somewhat chagrined at the idea of Jackson
appropriating his suggestion of a bucket-line to the creek; and after
Jackson had succeeded in doing what he could not do, and, as Boyd said,
was “strutting around giving orders,” the two men met near the creek.
Boyd said to Jackson, “I have seen and fought fires in Philadelphia
before you were born,” and continued to growl at Jackson, who ordered
him to “get in line or get out of the way.” Boyd, who was a fearless
man, made some insolent reply, when Jackson, seizing a bucket of
water, threw its contents on the irate Irishman, and passed along the
line, leaving Boyd swearing, “By the Holy Virgin, I’ll whip you before
you leave this town!” John Chester, with whom Boyd lived and died at
Jonesboro, made him go to his little house, which stood in the corner
of Chester’s yard; and this ended the matter.[Q]
“Jackson’s bucket brigade” has often saved property in the ancient
town, within the century, now almost rounded out, that followed its
organization and first service.
FOOTNOTES:
[Q] My greatgrandfather, Robert Johnston Chester, brought
Benjamin Boyd from Limerick, Ireland, to America. My grandfather, John
Chester, brought him from Carlisle, Pennsylvania, to Jonesboro, in
December, 1796. Boyd was then an old man. I am the possessor of one of
Boyd’s books, an “Arithmetick,” “printed in Belfast, Ireland, by James
Magee, at the Bible and Crown, Bridge street,” in 1775.