passion under the control of reason. Whatever they decide to do will be
done without haste, and after a careful weighing of all the
consequences. In the midst of their deliberations the rapid tread of a
horse's feet is heard coming up the long avenue. The horseman halts
before the council-house, and soon the buffalo-hide parts in twain, and
a tall young warrior, decorated with eagles' feathers and half clad in
the highest style of Cherokee fashion, enters the door-way. He stands
silent, motionless, not moving a pace beyond the entrance, till
Oconostota, raising his eyes and lifting his huge form into an erect
posture, bids him speak and make known his errand.
The young brave explains that the chief of the pale-faces has come down
the great war-path to an outlying town to see the head-men of the
Ottari. The warriors have detained him till they can know the will of
their father the Archimagus.
The answer is brief: "Let him come. Oconostota will hear him."
And now an hour goes by, during which these grave chiefs sit as silent
and motionless as if keeping watch around a sepulchre. At its close the
tramp of a body of horsemen is heard, and soon Robertson, escorted by a
score of painted warriors, enters the council-chamber. Like the rest,
the new-comers are of fine physical proportions; and, as the others rise
to their feet and all form in a circle about him, Robertson, who stands
only five feet nine inches and is not so robust as in later years, seems
like a pygmy among giants. Yet he is as cool, as collected, as
apparently unconscious of danger, as if every one of those painted
savages (when aroused, red devils) was his near friend or
blood-relation. The chiefs glance at him, and then at one another, with
as much wonderment in their eyes as was ever seen in the eyes of a
Cherokee. They know he is but one man and they twelve hundred, and that
by their law of retaliation his life is forfeit; and yet he stands
there, a look of singular power on his face, as if not they but he were
master of the situation. They have seen physical bravery; but this is
moral courage, which, when a man has a great purpose, lifts him above
all personal considerations and makes his life no more to him than the
bauble he wears upon his finger.
Robertson waits for the others to speak, and there is a short pause
before the old chief breaks the silence. Then, extending his hand to
Robertson, he says, "Our white brother is welcome. We have eaten of his
venison and drunk of his fire-water. He is welcome. Let him speak.
Oconostota will listen."
The white man returns cordially the grasp of the Indian; and then, still
standing, while all about him seat themselves on the ground, he makes
known the object of his coming. I regret I cannot give here his exact
answer, for all who read this would wish to know the very words he used
on this momentous occasion. No doubt they were, like all he said, terse,
pithy, and in such scriptural phrase as was with him so habitual. I know
only the substance of what he said, and it was as follows: that the
young brave had been killed by one not belonging to the Watauga
community; that the murderer had fled, but when apprehended would be
dealt with as his crime deserved; and he added that he and his
companion-settlers had come into the country desiring to live in peace
with all men, but more especially with their near neighbors the brave
Cherokees, with whom they should always endeavor to cultivate relations
of friendliness and good-fellowship.
The Indians heard him at first with silent gravity, but, as he went on,
their feelings warmed to him, and found vent in a few expressive
"Ughs!" and when he closed, the old Archimagus rose, and, turning to the
chiefs, said, "What our white brother says is like the truth. What say
my brothers? are not his words good?"
The response was, "They are good."
A general hand-shaking followed; and then they all pressed Robertson to
remain with them and partake of their hospitality. Though extremely
anxious to return at once with the peaceful tidings, he did so, and thus
converted possible enemies into positive friends; and the friendship
thus formed was not broken till the outbreak of the Revolution.
While Robertson had been away, Sevier had not been idle. He had put
Watauga into the best possible state of defence. With the surprising
energy that was characteristic of him, he had built a fort and gathered
every white settler into it or safe within range of its muskets. His
force was not a hundred strong; but if Robertson had been safely out of
the savage hold, he might have enjoyed a visit from Oconostota and his
twelve hundred Ottari warriors.
The fort was planned by Sevier, who had no military training except such
as he had received under his patron and friend Lord Dunmore. Though rude
and hastily built, it was a model of military architecture, and in the
construction of it Sevier displayed such a genius for war as readily
accounts for his subsequent achievements.
It was located on Gap Creek, about half a mile northeast of the Watauga,
upon a gentle knoll, from about which the trees, and even stumps, were
carefully cleared, to prevent their sheltering a lurking enemy. The
buildings have now altogether crumbled away; but the spot is still
identified by a few graves and a large locust-tree,--then a slender
sapling, now a burly patriarch, which has remained to our day to point
out the spot where occurred the first conflict between civilization and
savagery in the new empire beyond the Alleghanies. For the conflict was
between those two forces; and the forts along the frontier--of which
this at Watauga was the original and model--were the forerunners of
civilization,--the "voice crying in the wilderness," announcing the
reign of peace which was to follow.
The fort covered a parallelogram of about an acre, and was built of log
cabins placed at intervals along the four sides, the logs notched
closely together, so that the walls were bullet-proof. One side of the
cabins formed the exterior of the fort, and the spaces between them were
filled with palisades of heavy timber, eight feet long, sharpened at the
ends, and set firmly into the ground. At each of the angles was a
block-house, about twenty feet square and two stories high, the upper
story projecting about two feet beyond the lower, so as to command the
sides of the fort and enable the besieged to repel a close attack or any
attempt to set fire to the buildings. Port-holes were placed at suitable
distances. There were two wide gate-ways, constructed to open quickly to
permit a sudden sally or the speedy rescue of outside fugitives. On one
of these was a lookout station, which commanded a wide view of the
surrounding country. The various buildings would comfortably house two
hundred people, but on an emergency a much larger number might find
shelter within the enclosure.
The fort was admirably adapted to its design, and, properly manned,
would repel any attack of fire-arms in the hands of such desultory
warriors as the Indians. In the arithmetic of the frontier it came to be
adopted as a rule that one white man behind a wall of logs was a match
for twenty-five Indians in the open field; and subsequent events showed
this to have been not a vainglorious reckoning.
There were much older men at Watauga than either Sevier or
Robertson,--one of whom was now only twenty-eight and the other
thirty,--but they had from the first been recognized as natural leaders.
These two events--the building of the fort and the Cherokee mission,
which displayed Sevier's uncommon military genius and Robertson's
ability and address as a negotiator--elevated them still higher in the
regard of their associates, and at once the cares and responsibilities
of leadership in both civil and military affairs were thrust upon them.
But Sevier, with a modesty which he showed throughout his whole career,
whenever it was necessary that one should take precedence of the other,
always insisted upon Robertson's having the higher position; and so it
was that in the military company which was now formed Sevier, who had
served as a captain under Dunmore, was made lieutenant, while Robertson
was appointed captain.
The Watauga community had been till now living under no organized
government. This worked very well so long as the newly-arriving
immigrants were of the class which is "a law unto itself;" but when
another class came in,--men fleeing from debt in the older settlements
or hoping on the remote and inaccessible frontier to escape the penalty
of their crimes,--some organization which should have the sanction of
the whole body of settlers became necessary. Therefore, speaking in the
language of Sevier, they, "by consent of the people, formed a court,
taking the Virginia laws as a guide, as near as the situation of affairs
would admit."
The settlers met in convention at the fort, and selected thirteen of
their number to draft articles of association for the management of the
colony. From these thirteen, five (among whom were Sevier and Robertson)
were chosen commissioners, and to them was given power to adjudicate
upon all matters of controversy and to adopt and direct all measures
having a bearing upon the peace, safety, good order, and well-being of
the community. By them, in the language of the articles, "all things
were to be settled."
These articles of association were the first compact of civil government
anywhere west of the Alleghanies. They were adopted in 1772, three years
prior to the association formed for Kentucky "under the great elm-tree
outside of the fort at Boonesboro." The simple government thus
established was sufficient to secure good order in the colony for
several years following.
Now ensued four more years of uninterrupted peace and prosperity, during
which the settlement increased greatly in numbers and extended its
borders in all directions. The Indians, true to their pledges to
Robertson, continued friendly, though suffering frequently from the
depredations of lawless white men from the old settlements. These were
reckless, desperate characters, who had fled from the order and law of
established society to find freedom for unbridled license in the new
community. Driven out by the Watauga settlers, they herded together in
the wilderness, where they subsisted by hunting and fishing and preying
upon the now peaceable Cherokees. They were an annoyance to both the
peaceable white man and the red; but at length, when the Indians showed
feelings of hostility, they became a barrier between the savages and the
industrious cultivators of the soil, and thus unintentionally
contributed to the well-being of the Watauga community.
No event materially affecting the interests of the colony occurred
during the four years following Robertson's visit to the Cherokees at
Echota. The battles of Lexington and Concord had been fought, but the
shot which was "heard round the world" did not echo till months
afterward in that secluded hamlet on the Watauga. But when it did
reverberate amid those old woods, every backwoodsman sprang to his feet
and asked to be enrolled to rush to the rescue of his countrymen on the
seaboard. His patriotism was not stimulated by British oppression, for
he was beyond the reach of the "king's minions." He had no grievances to
complain of, for he drank no tea, used no stamps, and never saw a
tax-gatherer. It was the "glorious cause of liberty," as Sevier
expressed it, which called them all to arms to do battle for freedom and
their countrymen.
"A company of fine riflemen was accordingly enlisted, and embodied at
the expense and risque of their private fortunes, to act in defence of
the common cause on the sea-shore."[001] But before the volunteers could
be despatched over the mountains it became apparent that their services
would be needed at home for the defence of the frontier against the
Indians.
Through the trader Isaac Thomas it soon became known to the settlers
that Cameron, the British agent, was among the Cherokees, endeavoring to
incite them to hostilities against the Americans. At first the Indians
resisted the enticements--the hopes of spoil and plunder and the
recovery of their hunting-grounds--which Cameron held out to them. They
could not understand how men of the same race and language could be at
war with one another. It was never so known in Indian tradition. But
soon--late in 1775--an event occurred which showed that the virus spread
among them by the crafty Scotchman had begun to work, at least with the
younger braves, and that it might at any moment break out among the
whole nation. A trader named Andrew Grear, who lived at Watauga, had
been at Echota. He had disposed of his wares, and was about to return
with the furs he had taken in exchange, when he perceived signs of
hostile feeling among some of the young warriors, and on his return,
fearing an ambuscade on the great war-path, he left it before he reached
the crossing at the French Broad, and went homeward by a less-frequented
trail along the Nolachucky. Two other traders, named Boyd and Dagget,
who left Echota on the following day, pursued the usual route, and were
waylaid and murdered at a small stream which has ever since borne the
name of Boyd's Creek. In a few days their bodies were found, only half
concealed in the shallow water; and as the tidings flew among the
scattered settlements they excited universal alarm and indignation.
The settlers had been so long at peace with the Cherokees that they had
been lulled into a false security; but, the savage having once tasted
blood, they knew his appetite would "grow by what it fed on," and they
prepared for a deadly struggle with an enemy of more than twenty times
their number. The fort at Watauga was at once put into a state of
efficient defence, smaller forts were erected in the centre of every
scattered settlement, and a larger one was built on the frontier, near
the confluence of the north and south forks of the Holston River, to
protect the more remote settlements. This last was called Fort Patrick
Henry, in honor of the patriotic governor of Virginia. The one at
Watauga received the name of Fort Lee.
All the able-bodied males sixteen years of age and over were enrolled,
put under competent officers, and drilled for the coming struggle. But
the winter passed without any further act of hostility on the part of
the disaffected Cherokees. The older chiefs, true to their pledges to
Robertson, still held back, and were able to restrain the younger
braves, who thirsted for the conflict from a passion for the excitement
and glory they could find only in battle.
Nancy Ward was in the secrets of the Cherokee leaders, and every word
uttered in their councils she faithfully repeated to the trader Isaac
Thomas, who conveyed the intelligence personally or by trusty messengers
to Sevier and Robertson at Watauga. Thus the settlers were enabled to
circumvent the machinations of Cameron until a more powerful enemy
appeared among the Cherokees in the spring of 1776. This was John
Stuart, British superintendent of Southern Indian affairs, a man of
great address and ability, and universally known and beloved among all
the Southwestern tribes. Fifteen years before, his life had been saved
at the Fort Loudon massacre by Atta-Culla-Culla, and a friendship had
then been contracted between them which now secured the influence of the
half-king in plunging the Cherokees into hostilities with the settlers.
The plan of operations had been concerted between Stuart and the
British commander-in-chief, General Gage. It was for a universal rising
among the Creeks, Chickasaws, Cherokees, and Shawnees, who were to
invade the frontiers of Georgia, Virginia, and the Carolinas, while
simultaneously a large military and naval force under Sir Peter Parker
descended upon the Southern seaboard and captured Charleston. It was
also intended to enlist the co-operation of such inhabitants of the back
settlements as were known to be favorable to the British. Thus the
feeble colonists were to be not only encircled by a cordon of fire, but
a conflagration was to be lighted which should consume every patriot's
dwelling. It was an able but pitiless and bloodthirsty plan, for it
would let loose upon the settler every savage atrocity and make his
worst foes those of his own household. If successful, it would have
strangled in fire and blood the spirit of independence in the Southern
colonies.
That it did not succeed seems to us, who know the means employed to
thwart it, little short of a miracle. Those means were the four hundred
and forty-five raw militia under Moultrie, who, behind a pile of
palmetto logs, on the 28th of June, 1776, repulsed Sir Peter Parker in
his attack on Sullivan's Island in the harbor of Charleston, South
Carolina, and the two hundred and ten "over-mountain men," under Sevier,
Robertson, and Isaac Shelby, who beat back, on the 20th and 21st of
July, the Cherokee invasion of the western frontier.
As early as the 30th of May, Sevier and Robertson were apprised by their
faithful friend Nancy Ward of the intended attack, and at once they sent
messengers to Colonel Preston, of the Virginia Committee of Safety, for
an additional supply of powder and lead and a reinforcement of such men
as could be spared from home-service. One hundred pounds of powder and
twice as much lead, and one hundred militiamen, were despatched in
answer to the summons. The powder and lead were distributed among the
stations, and the hundred men were sent to strengthen the garrison of
Fort Patrick Henry, the most exposed position on the frontier. The
entire force of the settlers was now two hundred and ten, forty of whom
were at Watauga under Sevier and Robertson, the remainder at and near
Fort Patrick Henry under no less than six militia captains, no one of
whom was bound to obey the command of any of the others. This
many-headed authority would doubtless have worked disastrously to the
loosely-jointed force had there not been in it as a volunteer a young
man of twenty-five who in the moment of supreme danger seized the
absolute command and rallied the men to victory. His name was Isaac
Shelby, and this was the first act in a long career in the whole of
which "he deserved well of his country."
Thus, from the 30th of May till the 11th of July the settlers slept with
their rifles in their hands, expecting every night to hear the Indian
war-whoop, and every day to receive some messenger from Nancy Ward with
tidings that the warriors were on the march for the settlements. At last
the messengers came,--four of them at once,--as we may see from the
following letter, in which Sevier announces their arrival to the
Committee of Safety of Fincastle County, Virginia:
"FORT LEE, July 11, 1776.
DEAR GENTLEMEN,--Isaac Thomas, William Falling, Jarot Williams, and
one more, have this moment come in, by making their escape from the
Indians, and say six hundred Indians and whites were to start for
this fort, and intend to drive the country up to New River before
they return.
JOHN SEVIER."
He says nothing of the feeble fort and his slender garrison of only
forty men; he shows no sign of fear, nor does he ask for aid in the
great peril. The letter is characteristic of the man, and it displays
that utter fearlessness which, with other great qualities, made him the
hero of the Border. The details of the information brought by Thomas to
Sevier and Robertson showed how truthfully Nancy Ward had previously
reported to them the secret designs of the Cherokees. The whole nation
was about to set out upon the war-path. With the Creeks they were to
make a descent upon Georgia, and with the Shawnees, Mingoes, and
Delawares upon Kentucky and the exposed parts of Virginia, while seven
hundred chosen Ottari warriors were to fall upon the settlers on the
Watauga, Holston, and Nolachucky. This last force was to be divided into
two bodies of three hundred and fifty each, one of which, under
Oconostota, was to attack Fort Watauga; the other, under Dragging-Canoe,
head-chief of the Chickamaugas, was to attempt the capture of Fort
Patrick Henry, which they supposed to be still defended by only about
seventy men. But the two bodies were to act together, the one supporting
the other in case it should be found that the settlers were better
prepared for defence than was anticipated. The preparation for the
expedition Thomas had himself seen: its object and the points of attack
he had learned from Nancy Ward, who had come to his cabin at midnight on
the 7th of July and urged his immediate departure. He had delayed
setting out till the following night, to impart his information to
William Falling and Jarot and Isaac Williams, men who could be trusted,
and who he proposed should set out at the same time, but by different
routes, to warn the settlements, so that in case one or more of them was
waylaid and killed the others might have a chance to get through in
safety. However, at the last moment the British agent Cameron had
himself disclosed the purpose of the expedition to Falling and the two
brothers Williams, and detailed them with a Captain Guest to go along
with the Indians as far as the Nolachucky, when they were to scatter
among the settlements and warn any "king's men" to join the Indians or
to wear a certain badge by which they would be known and protected in
any attack from the savages. These men had set out with the Indians, but
had escaped from them during the night of the 8th, and all had arrived
at Watauga in safety.
Thomas and Falling were despatched at once with the tidings into
Virginia, the two Williamses were sent to warn the garrison at Fort
Patrick Henry, and then the little force at Watauga furbished up their
rifles and waited in grim expectation the coming of Oconostota.
But the garrison at Fort Patrick Henry was the first to have tidings
from the Cherokees. Only a few men were at the fort, the rest being
scattered among the outlying stations, but all were within
supporting-distance. On the 19th of July the scouts came in and reported
that a large body of Indians was only about twenty miles away and
marching directly upon the garrison. Runners were at once despatched to
bring in the scattered forces, and by nightfall the one hundred and
seventy were gathered at the fort, ready to meet the enemy. Then a
council of war was held by the six militia captains to determine upon
the best plan of action. Some were in favor of awaiting the attack of
the savages behind the walls of the fort, but one of them, William
Cocke, who afterward became honorably conspicuous in the history of
Tennessee, proposed the bolder course of encountering the enemy in the
open field. If they did not, he contended that the Indians, passing them
on the flank, would fall on and butcher the defenceless women of the
settlements in their rear.
It was a step of extreme boldness, for they supposed they would
encounter the whole body of seven hundred Cherokees; but it was
unanimously agreed to, and early on the following morning the little
army, with flankers and an advance guard of twelve men, marched out to
meet the enemy. They had not gone far when the advance guard came upon a
force of about twenty Indians. The latter fled, and the whites pursued
for several miles, the main body following close upon the heels of the
advance, but without coming upon any considerable force of the enemy.
Then, being in a country favorable to an ambuscade, and the evening
coming on, they held a council and decided to return to the fort.