Settlement of Harrodsburgh--Indian mode of besieging and
warfare--Fortitude and privation of the Pioneers--The Indians attack
Harrodsburgh and Boonesborough--Description of a Station--Attack of
Bryant's Station.
A road sufficient for the passage of pack horses in single file, had
been opened from the settlements already commenced on Holston river to
Boonesborough in Kentucky. It was an avenue which soon brought other
adventurers, with their families to the settlement. On the northern
frontier of the country, the broad and unbroken bosom of the Ohio opened
an easy liquid highway of access to the country. The first spots
selected as landing places and points of ingress into the country, were
Limestone--now Maysville--at the mouth of Limestone creek, and Beargrass
creek, where Louisville now stands. Boonesborough and Harrodsburgh were
the only stations in Kentucky sufficiently strong to be safe from the
incursions of the Indians; and even these places afforded no security a
foot beyond the palisades. These two places were the central points
towards which emigrants directed their course from Limestone and
Louisville. The routes from these two places were often ambushed by the
Indians. But notwithstanding the danger of approach to the new country,
and the incessant exposure during the residence there, immigrants
continued to arrive at the stations.
The first female white settlers of Harrodsburgh, were Mrs. Denton,
McGary, and Hogan, who came with their husbands and families. A number
of other families soon followed, among whom, in 1776, came Benjamin
Logan, with his wife and family. These were all families of
respectability and standing, and noted in the subsequent history of the
country.
Hordes of savages were soon afterwards ascertained to have crossed the
Ohio, with the purpose to extirpate these germs of social establishments
in Kentucky. According to their usual mode of warfare, they separated
into numerous detachments, and dispersed in all directions through the
forests. This gave them the aspect of numbers and strength beyond
reality. It tended to increase the apprehensions of the recent
immigrants, inspiring the natural impressions, that the woods in all
directions were full of Indians. It enabled them to fight in detail,--to
assail different settlements at the same time, and to fill the whole
country with consternation.
Their mode of besieging these places, though not at all conformable to
the notions of a siege derived from the tactics of a civilized people,
was dictated by the most profound practical observation, operating upon
existing circumstances. Without cannon or scaling ladders, their hope of
carrying a station, or fortified place, was founded upon starving the
inmates, cutting off their supplies of water, killing them, as they
exposed themselves, in detail, or getting possession of the station by
some of the arts of dissimulation. Caution in their tactics is still
more strongly inculcated than bravery. Their first object is to secure
themselves; their next, to kill their enemy. This is the universal
Indian maxim from Nova Zembla to Cape Horn. In besieging a place, they
are seldom seen in force upon any particular quarter. Acting in small
parties, they disperse themselves, and lie concealed among bushes or
weeds, behind trees or stumps. They ambush the paths to the barn,
spring, or field. They discharge their rifle or let fly their arrow, and
glide away without being seen, content that their revenge should issue
from an invisible source. They kill the cattle, watch the watering
places, and cut off all supplies. During the night, they creep, with the
inaudible and stealthy step dictated by the animal instinct, to a
concealed position near one of the gates, and patiently pass many
sleepless nights, so that they may finally cut off some ill-fated
person, who incautiously comes forth in the morning. During the day, if
there be near the station grass, weeds, bushes, or any distinct
elevation of the soil, however small, they crawl, as prone as reptiles,
to the place of concealment, and whoever exposes the smallest part of
his body through any part or chasm, receives their shot, behind the
smoke of which they instantly cower back to their retreat. When they
find their foe abroad, they boldly rush upon him, and make him prisoner,
or take his scalp. At times they approach the walls or palisades with
the most audacious daring, and attempt to fire them, or beat down the
gate. They practice, with the utmost adroitness, the stratagem of a
false alarm on one side when the real assault is intended for the other.
With untiring perseverance, when their stock of provisions is exhausted,
they set forth to hunt, as on common occasions, resuming their station
near the besieged place as soon as they are supplied.
It must he confessed, that they had many motives to this persevering and
deadly hostility, apart from their natural propensity to war. They saw
this new and hated race of pale faces gradually getting possession of
their hunting grounds, and cutting down their forests. They reasoned
forcibly and justly, that the time, when to oppose these new intruders
with success, was to do it before they had become numerous and strong in
diffused population and resources. Had they possessed the skill of
corporate union, combining individual effort with a general concert of
attack, and directed their united force against each settlement in
succession, there is little doubt, that at this time they might have
extirpated the new inhabitants from Kentucky, and have restored it to
the empire of the wild beasts and the red men. But in the order of
events it was otherwise arranged. They massacred, they burnt, and
plundered, and destroyed. They killed cattle, and carried off the
horses;--inflicting terror, poverty, and every species of distress; but
were not able to make themselves absolute masters of a single station.
It has been found by experiment, that the settlers in such predicaments
of danger and apprehension, act under a most spirit-stirring excitement,
which, notwithstanding its alarms, is not without its pleasures. They
acquired fortitude, dexterity, and that kind of courage which results
from becoming familiar with exposure.
The settlements becoming extended, the Indians, in their turn, were
obliged to put themselves on the defensive. They cowered in the distant
woods for concealment, or resorted to them for hunting. In these
intervals, the settlers, who had acquired a kind of instinctive
intuition to know when their foe was near them, or had retired to
remoter forests, went forth to plough their corn, gather in their
harvests, collect their cattle, and pursue their agricultural
operations. These were their holyday seasons for hunting, during which
they often exchanged shots with their foe. The night, as being most
secure from Indian attack, was the common season selected for journeying
from garrison to garrison.
We, who live in the midst of scenes of abundance and tranquillity can
hardly imagine how a country could fill with inhabitants, under so many
circumstances of terror, in addition to all the hardships incident to
the commencement of new establishments in the wilderness; such as want
of society, want of all the regular modes of supply, in regard to the
articles most indispensable in every stage of the civilized condition.
There were no mills, no stores, no regular supplies of clothing, salt,
sugar, and the luxuries of tea and coffee. But all these dangers and
difficulties notwithstanding, under the influence of an inexplicable
propensity, families in the old settlements used to comfort and
abundance, were constantly arriving to encounter all these dangers and
privations. They began to spread over the extensive and fertile country
in every direction--presenting such numerous and dispersed marks to
Indian hostility, red men became perplexed, amidst so many conflicting
temptations to vengeance, which to select.
The year 1776 was memorable in the annals of Kentucky, as that in which
General George Rogers Clark first visited it, unconscious, it may be, of
the imperishable honors which the western country would one day reserve
for him. This same year Captain Wagin arrived in the country, and
_fixed_ in a solitary cabin on Hinkston's Fork of the Licking.
In the autumn of this year, most of the recent immigrants to Kentucky
returned to the old settlements, principally in Virginia. They carried
with them strong representations, touching the fertility and advantages
of their new residence; and communicated the impulse of their hopes and
fears extensively among their fellow-citizens by sympathy.
The importance of the new settlement was already deemed to be such, that
on the meeting of the legislature of Virginia, the governor recommended
that the south-western part of the county of Fincastle--so this vast
tract of country west of the Alleghanies had hitherto been
considered--should be erected into a separate county by the name of
Kentucky.
This must be considered an important era in the history of the country.
The new county became entitled to two representatives in the legislature
of Virginia, to a court and judge; in a word, to all the customary
civil, military, and judicial officers of a new county. In the year
1777, the county was duly organized, according to the act of the
Virginia legislature. Among the names of the first officers in the new
county, we recognize those of Floyd, Bowman, Logan, and Todd.
Harrodsburgh, the strongest and most populous station in the country,
had not hitherto been assailed by the Indians. Early in the spring of
1777, they attacked a small body of improvers marching to Harrodsburgh,
about four miles from that place. Mr. Kay, afterwards General Kay, and
his brother were of the party. The latter was killed, and another man
made prisoner. The fortunate escape of James Kay, then fifteen years
old, was the probable cause of the saving of Harrodsburgh from
destruction. Flying from the scene of attack and the death of his
brother, he reached the station and gave the inhabitants information,
that a large body of Indians was marching to attack the place. The
Indians themselves, aware that the inhabitants had been premonished of
their approach, seem to have been disheartened; for they did not reach
the station till the next day. Of course, it had been put in the best
possible state of defence, and prepared for their reception.
The town was now invested by the savage force, and something like a
regular siege commenced. A brisk firing ensued. In the course of the day
the Indians left one of their dead to fall into the hands of the
besieged--a rare occurrence, as it is one of their most invariable
customs to remove their wounded and dead from the possession of the
enemy. The besieged had four men wounded and one of them mortally. The
Indians, unacquainted with the mode of conducting a siege, and little
accustomed to open and fair fight, and dispirited by the vigorous
reception given them by the station, soon decamped, and dispersed in the
forests to supply themselves with provisions by hunting.
On the 15th of April, 1777, a body of one hundred savages invested
Boonesborough, the residence of Daniel Boone. The greater number of the
Indians had fire arms, though some of them were still armed with bows
and arrows. This station, having its defence conducted by such a gallant
leader, gave them such a warm reception that they were glad to draw off;
though not till they had killed one and wounded four of the inhabitants.
Their loss could not be ascertained, as they carefully removed their
dead and wounded.
In July following, the residence of Boone was again besieged by a body
of Indians, whose number was increased to two hundred. With their
numbers, their hardihood and audacity were increased in proportion. To
prevent the neighboring stations from sending assistance, detachments
from their body assailed most of the adjacent settlements at the same
time. The gallant inmates of the station made them repent their
temerity, though, as formerly, with some loss; one of their number
having been killed and two wounded. Seven of the Indians were distinctly
counted from the fort among the slain; though, according to custom, the
bodies were removed. After a close siege, and almost constant firing
during two days, the Indians raised a yell of disappointment, and
disappeared in the forests.
In order to present distinct views of the sort of enemy, with whom Boone
had to do, and to present pictures of the aspect of Indian warfare in
those times, we might give sketches of the repeated sieges of
Harrodsburgh and Boonesborough, against which--as deemed the strong
holds of the _Long-knife,_ as they called the Americans--their most
formidable and repeated efforts were directed. There is such a sad and
dreary uniformity in these narratives, that the history of one may
almost stand for that of all. They always present more or less killed
and wounded on the part of the stations, and a still greater number on
that of the Indians. Their attacks of stations having been uniformly
unsuccessful, they returned to their original modes of warfare,
dispersing themselves in small bodies over all the country, and
attacking individual settlers in insulated cabins, and destroying women
and children. But as most of these annals belong to the general history
of Kentucky, and do not particularly tend to develop the character of
the subject of this biography, we shall pretermit them, with a single
exception. At the expense of an anachronism, and as a fair sample of the
rest, we shall present that, as one of the most prominent Indian sieges
recorded in these early annals. It will not be considered an episode, if
it tend to convey distinct ideas of the structure and form of a
_station_, and the modes of attack and defence in those times. It was in
such scenes that the fearless daring, united with the cool, prudent, and
yet efficient counsels of Daniel Boone, were peculiarly conspicuous.
With this view we offer a somewhat detailed account of the attack of
Bryant's station.
As we know of no place, nearer than the sources of the Mississippi, or
the Rocky Mountains, where the refuge of a _station_ is now requisite
for security from the Indians; as the remains of those that were
formerly built are fast mouldering to decay; and as in a few years
history will be the only depository of what the term _station_ imports,
we deem it right, in this place, to present as graphic a view as we may,
of a station, as we have seen them in their ruins in various points of
the west.
The first immigrants to Tennessee and Kentucky, as we have seen, came in
pairs and small bodies. These pioneers on their return to the old
settlements, brought back companies and societies.--Friends and
connections, old and young, mothers and daughters, flocks, herds,
domestic animals, and the family dogs, all set forth on the patriarchal
emigration for the land of promise together. No disruption of the tender
natal and moral ties; no annihilation of the reciprocity of domestic
kindness, friendship, and love, took place. The cement and panoply
of affection, and good will bound them together at once in the social
tie, and the union for defence. Like the gregarious tenants of the air
in their annual migrations, they brought their true home, that is to say
their charities with them. In their state of extreme isolation from the
world they had left, the kindly social propensities were found to grow
more strong in the wilderness. The current of human affections in fact
naturally flows in a deeper and more vigorous tide, in proportion as it
is diverted into fewer channels.
These immigrants to the Bloody Ground, coming to survey new aspects of
nature, new forests and climates, and to encounter new privations,
difficulties and dangers, were bound together by a new sacrament of
friendship, new and unsworn oaths, to stand by each other for life and
for death. How often have we heard the remains of this primitive race of
Kentucky deplore the measured distance and jealousy, the heathen rivalry
and selfishness of the present generation, in comparison with the unity
of heart, dangers and fortunes of these primeval times--reminding one of
the simple kindness, the community of property, and the union of heart
among the first Christians!
Another circumstance of this picture ought to be redeemed from oblivion.
We suspect that the general impressions of the readers of this day is,
that the first hunters and settlers of Kentucky and Tennessee were a
sort of demi-savages. Imagination depicts them with long beard, and a
costume of skins, rude, fierce, and repulsive. Nothing can be wider from
the fact. These progenitors of the west were generally men of noble,
square, erect forms, broad chests, clear, bright, truth-telling eyes,
and of vigorous intellects.
All this is not only matter of historical record, but in the natural
order of things. The first settlers of America were originally a noble
stock. These, their descendants, had been reared under circumstances
every way calculated to give them manly beauty and noble forms. They had
breathed a free and a salubrious air. The field and forest exercise
yielded them salutary viands, and appetite and digestion corresponding.
Life brought them the sensations of high health, herculean vigor, and
redundant joy.
When a social band of this description had planted their feet on the
virgin soil, the first object was to fix on a spot, central to the most
fertile tract of land that could be found, combining the advantages
usually sought by the first settlers. Among these was, that the station
should be on the summit of a gentle swell, where pawpaw, cane, and wild
clover, marked exuberant fertility; and where the trees were so sparse,
and the soil beneath them so free from underbrush, that the hunter could
ride at half speed. The virgin soil, as yet friable, untrodden, and not
cursed with the blight of politics, party, and feud, yielded, with
little other cultivation than planting, from eighty to a hundred bushels
of maize to the acre, and all other edibles suited to the soil and
climate, in proportion.
The next thing, after finding this central nucleus of a settlement, was
to convert it into a _station_, an erection which now remains to be
described. It was a desirable requisite, that a station should in close
or command a flush limestone spring, for water for the settlement. The
contiguity of a salt lick and a sugar orchard, though not indispensable,
was a very desirable circumstance. The next preliminary step was to
clear a considerable area, so as to leave nothing within a considerable
distance of the station that could shelter an enemy from observation and
a shot. If a spring were not inclosed, or a well dug within, as an
Indian siege seldom lasted beyond a few days, it was customary, in
periods of alarm to have a reservoir of some sort within the station,
that should be filled with water enough to supply the garrison, during
the probable continuance of a siege. It was deemed a most important
consideration, that the station should overlook and command as much of
the surrounding country as possible.
The form was a perfect parallelogram, including from a half to a whole
acre. A trench was then dug four or five feet deep, and large and
contiguous pickets planted in this trench, so as to form a compact wall
from ten to twelve feet high above the soil. The pickets were of hard
and durable timber, about a foot in diameter. The soil about them was
rammed hard. They formed a rampart beyond the power of man to leap,
climb, or by unaided physical strength to overthrow. At the angles were
small projecting squares, of still stronger material and planting,
technically called _flankers_, with oblique port-holes, so as that the
sentinel within could rake the external front of the station, without
being exposed to shot from without. Two folding gates in the front and
rear, swinging on prodigious wooden hinges, gave egress and ingress to
men and teams in times of security.
In periods of alarm a trusty sentinel on the roof of the building was so
stationed, as to be able to descry every suspicious object while yet in
the distance. The gates were always firmly barred by night; and
sentinels took their alternate watch, and relieved each other until
morning. Nothing in the line of fortification can be imagined more easy
of construction, or a more effectual protection against a savage enemy,
than this simple erection. Though the balls of the smallest dimensions
of cannon would have swept them away with ease, they were proof against
the Indian rifle, patience, and skill. The only expedient of the red men
was to dig under them and undermine them, or destroy them by fire; and
even this could not be done without exposing them to the rifles of the
flankers. Of course, there are few recorded instances of their having
been taken, when defended by a garrison, guided by such men as Daniel
Boone.
Their regular form, and their show of security, rendered these walled
cities in the central wilderness delightful spectacles in the eye of
immigrants who had come two hundred leagues without seeing a human
habitation. Around the interior of these walls the habitations of the
immigrants arose, and the remainder of the surface was a clean-turfed
area for wrestling and dancing, and the vigorous and athletic amusements
of the olden time. It is questionable if heartier dinners and profounder
sleep and more exhilarating balls and parties fall to the lot of their
descendants, who ride in coaches and dwell in mansions. Venison and wild
turkeys, sweet potatoes and pies, smoked on their table; and persimmon
and maple beer, stood them well instead of the poisonous whisky of their
children.
The community, of course, passed their social evenings together; and
while the fire blazed bright within the secure square, the far howl of
wolves, or even the distant war-whoop of the savages, sounded in the ear
of the tranquil in-dwellers like the driving storm pouring on the
sheltering roof above the head of the traveller safely reposing in his
bed; that is, brought the contrast of comfort and security with more
home-felt influence to their bosom.
Such a station was Bryant's, no longer ago than 1782. It was the nucleus
of the settlements of that rich and delightful country, of which at
present Lexington is the centre. There were but two others of any
importance, at this time north of Kentucky river. It was more open to
attack than any other in the country. The Miami on the north, and the
Licking on the south of the Ohio, were long canals, which floated the
Indian canoes from the northern hive of the savages, between the lakes
and the Ohio, directly to its vicinity.
In the summer of this year a grand Indian assemblage took place at
Chillicothe, a famous central Indian town on the Little Miami. The
Cherokees, Wyandots, Tawas, Pottawattomies, and most of the tribes
bordering on the lakes, were represented in it. Besides their chiefs and
some Canadians, they were aided by the counsels of the two Girtys, and
McKee, renegado whites. We have made diligent enquiry touching the
biography of these men, particularly Simon Girty, a wretch of most
infamous notoriety in those times, as a more successful instigator of
Indian assault and massacre, than any name on record. Scarcely a
tortured captive escaped from the northern Indians, who could not tell
the share which this villain had in his sufferings--no burning or murder
of prisoners, at which he had not assisted by his presence or his
counsels. These refugees from our white settlements, added the
calculation and power of combining of the whites to the instinctive
cunning and ferocity of the savages. They possessed their thirst for
blood without their active or passive courage--blending the bad points
of character in the whites and Indians, without the good of either. The
cruelty of the Indians had some show of palliating circumstances, in the
steady encroachments of the whites upon them. Theirs was gratuitous,
coldblooded, and without visible motive, except that they appeared to
hate the race more inveterately for having fled from it. Yet Simon
Girty, like the Indians among whom he lived, sometimes took the freak of
kindness, nobody could divine why, and he once or twice saved an unhappy
captive from being roasted alive.
This vile renegado, consulted by the Indians as an oracle, lived in
plenty, smoked his pipe, and drank off his whisky in his log palace. He
was seen abroad clad in a ruffled shirt, a red and blue uniform, with
pantaloons and gaiters to match. He was belted with dirks and pistols,
and wore a watch with enormous length of chain, and most glaring
ornaments, all probably the spoils of murder. So habited, he strutted,
in the enormity of his cruelty in view of the ill-fated captives of the
Indians, like the peacock spreading his morning plumage. There is little
doubt that his capricious acts of saving the few that were spared
through his intercession, were modified results of vanity; and that they
were spared to make a display of his power, and the extent of his
influence among the Indians.
The assemblage of Indians bound to the assault of Bryant's station,
gathered round the shrine of Simon Girty, to hear the response of this
oracle touching the intended expedition. He is said to have painted to
them, in a set speech, the abundance and delight of the fair valleys of
Kan-tuck-ee, for which so much blood of red men had been shed--the land
of clover, deer, and buffaloes. He described the gradual encroachment of
the whites, and the certainty that they would soon occupy the whole
land. He proved the necessity of a vigorous, united, and persevering
effort against them, now while they were feeble, and had scarcely gained
foot-hold on the soil, if they ever intended to regain possession of
their ancient, rich, and rightful domain; assuring them, that as things
now went on, they would soon have no hunting grounds worth retaining, no
blankets with which to clothe their naked backs, or whisky to warm and
cheer their desolate hearts. They were advised to descend the Miami,
cross the Ohio, ascend the Licking, paddling their canoes to the
immediate vicinity of Bryant's station, which he counselled them to
attack.
Forthwith, the mass of biped wolves raised their murderous yell, as they
started for their canoes on the Miami. Girty, in his ruffled shirt and
soldier coat, stalked at their head, silently feeding upon his prowess
and grandeur.
The station against which they were destined, inclosed forty cabins.
They arrived before it on the fifteenth of August, in the night. The
inhabitants were advertised of their arrival in the morning, by being
fired upon as they opened the gates. The time of their arrival was
apparently providential. In two hours most of the efficient male inmates
of the station were to have marched to the aid of two other stations,
which were reported to have been attacked. This place would thus have
been left completely defenceless. As soon as the garrison saw themselves
besieged, they found means to despatch one of their number to Lexington,
to announce the assault and crave aid. Sixteen mounted men, and
thirty-one on foot, were immediately despatched to their assistance.
The number of the assailants amounted to at least six hundred. In
conformity with the common modes of their warfare, they attempted to
gain the place by stratagem. The great body concealed themselves among
high weeds, on the opposite side of the station, within pistol shot of
the spring which supplied it with water. A detachment of a hundred
commenced a false attack on the south-east angle, with a view to draw
the whole attention of the garrison to that point. They hoped that while
the chief force of the station crowded there, the opposite point would
be left defenceless. In this instance they reckoned without their host.
The people penetrated their deception, and instead of returning their
fire, commenced what had been imprudently neglected, the repairing their
palisades, and putting the station in a better condition of defence. The
tall and luxuriant strammony weeds instructed these wary backwoodsmen to
suspect that a host of their tawny foe lay hid beneath their sheltering
foliage, lurking for a chance to fire upon them, as they should come
forth for water.
Let modern wives, who refuse to follow their husbands abroad, alleging
the danger of the voyage or journey, or the unhealthiness of the
proposed residence, or because the removal will separate them from the
pleasures of fashion and society, contemplate the example of the wives
of the defenders of this station. These noble mothers, wives, and
daughters, assuring the men that there was no probability that the
Indians would fire upon them, offered to go out and draw water for the
supply of the garrison, and that even if they did shoot down a few of
them, it would not reduce the resources of the garrison as would the
killing of the men. The illustrious heroines took up their buckets, and
marched out to the spring, espying here and there a painted face, or an
Indian body crouched under the covert of the weeds. Whether their
courage or their beauty fascinated the Indians to suspend their fire,
does not appear. But it was so, that these generous women came and went
until the reservoir was amply supplied with crater. Who will doubt that
the husbands of such wives must have been alike gallant and
affectionate.
After this example, it was not difficult to procure some young
volunteers to tempt the Indians in the same way. As was expected, they
had scarcely advanced beyond their station, before a hundred Indians
fired a shower of balls upon them, happily too remote to do more than
inflict slight wounds with spent balls. They retreated within the
palisades, and the whole Indian force, seeing no results from stratagem,
rose from their covert and rushed towards the palisade. The exasperation
of their rage may be imagined, when they found every thing prepared for
their reception. A well aimed fire drove them to a more cautious
distance. Some of the more audacious of their number, however, ventured
so near a less exposed point, as to be able to discharge burning arrows
upon the roofs of the houses. Some of them were fired and burnt. But an
easterly wind providentially arose at the moment, and secured the mass
of the habitations from the further spread of the flames. These they
could no longer reach with their burning arrows.
The enemy cowered back, and crouched to their covert in the weeds;
where, panther-like, they waited for less dangerous game. They had
divided, on being informed, that aid was expected from Lexington; and
they arranged an ambuscade to intercept it, on its approach to the
garrison. When the reinforcement, consisting of forty-six persons, came
in sight, the firing had wholly ceased, and the invisible enemy were
profoundly still. The auxiliaries hurried on in reckless confidence,
under the impression that they had come on a false alarm. A lane opened
an avenue to the station, through a thick cornfield. This lane was
way-laid on either side, by Indians, for six hundred yards. Fortunately,
it was mid-summer, and dry; and the horsemen raised so thick a cloud of
dust, that the Indians could fire only at random amidst the palpable
cloud, and happily killed not a single man. The footmen were less
fortunate. Being behind the horse, as soon as they heard the firing,
they dispersed into the thick corn, in hopes to reach the garrison
unobserved. They were intercepted by masses of the savages, who threw
themselves between them and the station. Hard fighting ensued, in which
two of the footmen were killed and four wounded. Soon after the
detachment had joined their friends, and the Indians were again
crouching close in their covert, the numerous flocks and herds of the
station came in from the woods as usual, quietly ruminating, as they
made their way towards their night-pens. Upon these harmless animals the
Indians wreaked unmolested revenge, and completely destroyed them.
A little after sunset the famous Simon, in all his official splendor,
covertly approached the garrison, mounted a stump, whence he could be
heard by the people of the station, and holding a flag of truce,
demanded a parley and the surrender of the place. He managed his
proposals with no small degree of art, assigning, in imitation of the
commanders of what are called civilized armies, that his proposals were
dictated by humanity and a wish to spare the effusion of blood. He
affirmed, that in case of a prompt surrender, he could answer for the
safety of the prisoners; but that in the event of taking the garrison by
storm, he could not; that cannon and a reinforcement were approaching,
in which case they must be aware that their palisades could no longer
interpose any resistance to their attack, or secure them from the
vengeance of an exasperated foe. He calculated that his imposing
language would have the more effect in producing belief and
consternation, inasmuch as the garrison must know, that the same foe had
used cannon in the attack of Ruddle's and Martin's stations. Two of
their number had been already slain, and there were four wounded in the
garrison; and some faces were seen to blanch as Girty continued his
harangue of menace, and insidious play upon their fears. Some of the
more considerate of the garrison, apprised by the result, of the folly
of allowing such a negotiation to intimidate the garrison in that way,
called out to shoot the rascal, adding the customary Kentucky epithet.
Girty insisted upon the universal protection every where accorded to a
flag of truce, while this parley lasted; and demanded with great assumed
dignity, if they did not know who it was that thus addressed them?
A spirited young man, named Reynolds, of whom the most honorable mention
is made in the subsequent annals of the contests with the Indians, was
selected by the garrison to reply to the renegado Indian negotiator. His
object seems to have been to remove the depression occasioned by Girty's
speech, by treating it with derision; and perhaps to establish a
reputation for successful waggery, as he had already for hard fighting.
"You ask," answered he, "if we do not know you? Know you! Yes. We know
you too well. Know Simon Girty! Yes. He is the renegado, cowardly
villain, who loves to murder women and children, especially those of his
own people. Know Simon Girty! Yes. His father was a panther and his dam
a wolf. I have a worthless dog, that kills lambs. Instead of shooting
him, I have named him Simon Girty. You expect reinforcements and cannon,
do you? Cowardly wretches, like you, that make war upon women and
children, would not dare to touch them off, if you had them. We expect
reinforcements, too, and in numbers to give a short account of the
murdering cowards that follow you. Even if you could batter down our
pickets, I, for one, hold your people in too much contempt to discharge
rifles at them. Should you see cause to enter our fort, I have been
roasting a great number of hickory switches, with which we mean to whip
your naked cut-throats out of the country."
Simon, apparently little edified or flattered by this speech, wished him
some of his hardest curses; and affecting to deplore the obstinacy and
infatuation of the garrison, the ambassador of ruffled shirt and soldier
coat withdrew. The besieged gave a good account of every one, who came
near enough to take a fair shot. But before morning they decamped,
marching direct to the Blue Licks, where they obtained very different
success, and a most signal and bloody triumph. We shall there again meet
Daniel Boone, in his accustomed traits of heroism and magnanimity.
[Illustration]