Boone leads a Party to the Blue Licks to make Salt--Capture
of Boone and Surrender of the Entire Party--Conducted to
Detroit--His Captors Refuse to Exchange him--He is Adopted by the
Shawanoes--He discovers a Formidable Expedition is to move against
Boonesborough--His Escape and Arrival at Boonesborough--The Attack
Postponed--Boone leads a Party against an Indian Town on the
Sciota--Encounter with a War Party--Returns to Boonesborough--The
State Invested by Captain Duquesne and a Large Force--Boone and
the Garrison determine to Defend it to the Last--Better Terms
Offered--Treachery Suspected--The Attack--The Siege Raised.
We have been compelled, in the preceding chapter, to carry forward
for a few years the history of the military and political movements
connected with the earlier history of Kentucky in order to give an
intelligent idea of the work performed by its great pioneer Daniel
Boone.
During the exciting military occurrences to which we have referred,
Boonesborough was stirred by a startling disaster.
The settlement was greatly in need of salt, and, as it was a work
of extreme difficulty and danger to secure its importation from the
Atlantic States, the much simpler method was resorted to of having it
manufactured at the Blue Licks, where there was such an abundance of
brackish water that the work was easily done.
Collecting some thirty men, Boone set out for the Blue Licks which
were at no great distance, and they began immediately the process of
evaporating the water and collecting the saline deposit. Salt is one of
the prime necessities of life, and they were desirous of making enough
of it to last them for a long time to come.
The operation of salt-making is not a complicated one, even in these
modern days, and there was scarcely the work to keep the whole thirty
men busy all the time. As might be supposed, Boone spent many hours in
hunting.
It is probable that the Indians, learning of the weakened condition
of Boonesborough, had determined on attacking it with a force which
promised to insure its capture. For this purpose they gathered two
hundred warriors and started for the settlement, without Boone or any
of his party suspecting the danger that was moving down upon their
friends.
Still further, knowing that the unsuspicious white men were engaged
at the Licks, the large force of Indians turned in that direction and
advanced with the noiselessness of so many shadows.
Daniel Boone, at that juncture, was alone, hunting in the woods, when
he came face to face with the two hundred warriors, who appeared as
suddenly as if cast up by the earth.
Without stopping to parley, Boone whirled about and started on a dead
run, darting in and out among the trees, doing his utmost to dodge the
bullets that he expected would be sent after him, and to place himself
beyond sight of the Indians, who were desirous of securing so renowned
a man as he.
But Boone was not so young as when he had his former desperate
encounters with the red men, and the dozen warriors who instantly sped
after him were among the fleetest of their tribe.
The pioneer made good progress, but as he glanced furtively over his
shoulder every few seconds, he saw that the savages were gaining
rapidly upon him, and his capture was certain. He held out as long as
there was the slightest hope, but soon abruptly halted and surrendered.
There is something singular in the consideration which the Indians
showed Boone on more than one occasion. It will be remembered that
when he and Stuart were captured, they were kept day after day, until
they gained a chance to escape; and, in the present instance, the
captors conducted him back to the main body, where he was still held a
prisoner, no harm being offered him.
This was at a time when the fury of the savages was stirred to the
highest point against the settlers, and when the treacherous bullet,
the crashing tomahawk, the deadly knife and the smoke of the burning
cabin were more typical of the manner of warfare, than were any of the
amenities of civilized, contending forces.
It may have been the Indians recognized the importance of the capture
they had made in the person of the great Daniel Boone, for they treated
him kindly and conducted him back to the Blue Licks, where the rest of
the settlers were encamped.
There, upon the solemn promise of the Indians to spare their lives and
give them good treatment, Boone surrendered the entire command to them.
Boone was court-martialed for this act, and, whether he deserved credit
for it or not, is hard to determine. Such a daring officer as General
Clark never would have surrendered under such circumstances, and thirty
frontiersmen of to-day would give a good account of themselves against
an aboriginal force of ten times their number.
On the other hand, the partisans of the pioneer plead that he saw
that it was unquestionably the best thing to be done, inasmuch as the
majority of the Indians would turn back with their prisoners, and thus
Boonesborough would be saved from an attack, which, in its weakened
condition, it would scarcely be able to resist.
It will be seen that this is not a conclusive argument by any means,
for if the war party had appeared before the stockades with the thirty
prisoners and threatened to put them to the torture, before the eyes of
their families, they could have secured any terms they chose. On the
other hand, the two hundred savages could have exterminated the little
band in the woods as utterly as did Sitting Bull and his warriors the
forces of General Custer nearly a hundred years later. It may be set
down, therefore, that the court-martial which acquitted Boone, voiced
the sober second thought of his friends in this much disputed matter.
There is reason to believe that the Indians felt a genuine admiration
for the pioneer, for they kept in spirit and letter the agreement they
made respecting the treatment of himself and comrades. The capture of
so large a force, including the leader himself, was an achievement on
the part of the Indians calling for great self-congratulation, as they
started with their captives for old Chillicothe, on the Miami.
Old Chillicothe was the principal town of the Shawanoes who had taken
Boone, and as it was in the depth of winter, the march through the
wilderness occupying three days was very severe. On this journey the
Indians treated the whites well, sharing their food with them, and only
showing by their unremitting vigilance that they regarded them in the
light of prisoners.
They were kept at the Shawanoe village several weeks, and then the
pioneer and ten of his men were conducted to Detroit (which at that
time was a British garrison), and, with the exception of Boone, were
presented to the commandant, who showed them much consideration.
The commandant was desirous of securing Boone, and requested the
Indians to bring him in, but they refused. A number of prominent
gentlemen in Detroit, who knew of the pioneer, joined with the officer
in offering a large reward for Boone, with the purpose of exchange, or
of sending him back to his family at Boonesborough.
The Shawanoes were deaf to the proffers, and, to end the annoyance,
started for their villages on the Miami, taking the leader with them.
The truth was, the red-men had formed a feeling of strong friendship
for their famous prisoner, and were determined to adopt him. It was
with such an intention that they left Detroit and made their way
through the woods to their own towns, occupying more than two weeks in
the journey.
Reaching their destination at last, Boone was formally adopted into the
Shawanoe tribe. Respecting this novel ceremony, Peck, the biographer of
Boone, says:
"The forms of the ceremony of adoption were often severe and ludicrous.
The hair of the head is plucked out by a painful and tedious operation,
leaving a tuft some three or four inches in diameter on the crown for
the scalp-lock, which is cut and dressed up with ribbons and feathers.
The candidate is then taken into the river in a state of nudity, and
there thoroughly washed and rubbed, 'to take all his white blood out.'
This ablution is usually performed by females. He is then taken to the
council-house, where the chief makes a speech, in which he expatiates
upon the distinguished honors conferred on him. His head and face are
painted in the most approved and fashionable style, and the ceremony is
concluded with a grand feast and smoking."
Boone had now been changed from a white to a red man; that is, in the
eyes of the red-men themselves, and his native shrewdness and cunning
told him that his true course was so to conduct himself as to give the
Shawanoes the impression that he shared their opinion with them.
Having received the ceremony of adoption, and well aware of the strong
friendship the members of the tribe felt for him, he knew he was in no
personal danger, so long as he chose to remain one of them.
But nothing could be further from his intentions than that of spending
any considerable time with the Shawanoes, but he was well aware that
but one opportunity of escape would be offered him; should he fail, no
second chance would present itself. It will therefore be seen that no
precaution was to be neglected that promised to add to the prospect of
success.
He could not but feel anxious concerning his wife and children, and he
was uneasy over the situation of Boonesborough; so much so, that he
resolved to seize the first opportunity of leaving, and to press his
efforts with such vigor that he could scarcely fail.
He adopted his old custom of pretending to be satisfied with his
condition, and of holding no thought of running away. Although little
else was left for him to do, it was not to be expected that it would
deceive the Indians or lead them to relax their vigilance to any
perceptible extent. They must have known it was the very stratagem he
had adopted successfully a few years before with their people, besides
being the one which would naturally occur to a prisoner.
In the month of June, 1778, a company of Shawanoes went to the Sciota
Licks to make salt, taking Boone with them. He thought the chance
promised to be a good one for getting away, and he was on the alert.
But the Indians were equally so, and they kept him so busy over the
kettles that he dared not make the attempt. Finally, having secured
all they wished of salt, they started homeward again, and reaching old
Chillicothe, Boone's heart was filled with consternation at the sight
of 450 warriors in their paint, fully armed and ready to march upon
Boonesborough.
This was a formidable force indeed, more than double that against which
the garrison had ever been forced to defend themselves, and it seemed
to the pioneer as if the settlement, his family and all his friends
were doomed to destruction.
It was now or never with Boone: if his escape was to prove of any
benefit to others than himself, it would not do to delay it any longer.
The settlers were unaware of their danger and unless duly warned, were
likely to fall victims to Shawanoe cunning and atrocity.
Boone determined to leave within the succeeding twenty-four hours, no
matter how desperate the chance, and once beyond sight of his captors,
he would push forward night and day until he could reach Boonesborough.
But eager as he was to go, no opportunity presented itself that day
or evening. His active brain continued busily at work, and, before he
closed his eyes in snatches of fitful slumber, he had decided on the
course to pursue.
He rose early the next morning, and started out for a short hunt, as he
had frequently done, for such a stratagem promised to give him more
chance of getting a good start of his pursuers, it being naturally
supposed that the hour of a hunter's return is one of the most
uncertain occurrences in this world.
The pioneer was one hundred and sixty miles from Boonesborough, but
he was scarcely out of sight of the Indians, when he headed straight
for the settlement, and ran like a man who realizes it is a case of
life and death. It was a long distance to tramp, where the need was
so urgent, but the fugitive was spurred on by the strongest of all
incentives.
He did not spare himself. He had concealed enough for one meal about
his person before starting, and this was all he ate while making
the long journey occupying five days. He did not dare to stop long
enough to shoot any game, for fear his pursuers would be upon him.
He took many precautions to conceal his trail, but was fearful that
the piercing eyes of the Shawanoes would not be deceived. He was
apprehensive, too, that if he should fire his gun, the report would
bring his vengeful captors upon him.
Climbing some elevation, he looked searchingly back over the route
traveled, for sight of the smoke of the tell-tale camp-fire, or that of
the moving figures close on his trail.
But he saw none, and at the close of the fifth day, tired, hungry, and
worn, he made his appearance in front of the Boonesborough stockade and
was admitted with amazement and delight by his friends, who believed
he had been killed long before. So general, indeed, was this belief
in his death that his wife and family had moved back to their home in
North Carolina some time previous.
Just as he had feared, he found the station in the very condition
to fall a prey to the Indians. Its immunity from attack for months
previous had induced carelessness and indifference, and had the immense
war party of Shawanoes appeared at the same time with the pioneer, the
fort could not have held out an hour before a vigorous attack.
But Boone's presence inspired courage, and the garrison and settlers
set to work instantly. Everything was done to put the station in the
best possible state for defence. There was not an hour to lose, for
it was supposed the savages would be directly upon the heels of the
pioneer, and a constant and vigilant lookout was maintained.
But the hours passed, and no Indians appeared: in fact, the escape of
Boone proved the salvation of the settlement named after him, in a
manner altogether unsuspected.
Shortly after the flight of the pioneer, another of his friends
succeeded in getting away, and he came into the station with the
gratifying news that the march against Boonesborough had been postponed
for three weeks on account of the flight of Boone, whose purpose was
divined at once by the Indians.
This postponement was a most providential thing, not only for
Boonesborough itself, but for all the stations along the frontier, for
it gave them time in which to make every preparation for the attacks
which were foreshadowed by the Indian spies that were encountered in
every direction.
Finally Boone determined to make an offensive movement, with a view
of striking something like fear into the hearts of the Indians who
were meditating these attacks, and exciting a corresponding degree of
confidence among his friends.
On a bright morning early in August, with nineteen picked men, he left
the station and started for one of the Indian towns on the Sciota,
intending to effect its capture before anything like an effective
resistance could be made.
To accomplish such a work in an Indian country, requires the utmost
secrecy and celerity of movement. No time, therefore, was lost on the
road, when once the start was made, and, threading their way rapidly
through the forest, they advanced straight toward the Indian town, and
were within a few miles, when, to their astonishment, they encountered
thirty of its warriors who were hurrying to join the main body that at
that moment was marching against Boonesborough.
The instant the forces caught sight of each other, a regular
bushwhacking fire began, lasting only a few minutes, when the Indians
broke and fled, having one brave killed and two wounded. None of the
whites were hurt, and they captured several horses and such property as
the Indians could not take away with them.
Two of the swiftest runners were instantly sent to the Indian town,
and they came back with news that it was evacuated. The flank movement,
therefore, of the settlers had accomplished nothing.
Only one thing remained to be done: the Indians were moving upon
Boonesborough, but there was a possibility of Boone and his men getting
there ahead of them. They turned about and the race began.
On the sixth day, Boone found himself at the same distance from
Boonesborough as was the main body; by the exercise of great care,
he and his men avoided observation and got ahead of them, reaching
the station on the seventh day, while the formidable enemy made their
appearance before the town on the eighth day.
The war party was a large one, indeed, and looked irresistible. It had
the British banners flying, and was commanded by Captain Duquesne, with
eleven other Canadian Frenchmen and a number of the most prominent
Indian chiefs, while the woods seemed to be literally alive with
warriors. Many a settler, as he looked out upon the scene, felt that
resistance to such a force was useless and the end of Boonesborough was
close at hand.
Captain Duquesne, with great confidence in his ability to capture the
place, sent in a demand to Captain Boone to surrender it at once in the
name of his Britannic Majesty. Boone, in reply, asked to be allowed
two days in which to consider the summons, and Duquesne granted the
request.
Boone at once summoned his friends to council, and found, when
they were gathered, that there were only fifty; but, after a full
interchange of views, they decided to defend the station to the last
man. The investing force numbered at the least calculation fully ten
times as many as they, and a prolonged resistance would be sure to
excite them to the highest degree of fury; but the resolution was
unanimous, and there was no faltering on the part of the intrepid
commander or any of his comrades.
At the expiration of the two days, Boone appeared at one of the
bastions and announced his intention of defending the place, at the
same time thanking the French commander for his courtesy in giving him
the forty-eight hours in which to make his preparations against attack.
Captain Duquesne was surprised and disappointed over this decision,
for he seems to have been confident that the settlers, after soberly
thinking over and discussing the matter, would see not only the
uselessness, but the suicidal folly of a resistance, which would
exasperate the Indians, who would be irrestrainable in their vengeance,
after the fall of the station.
The British commander was so anxious to secure the surrender of
Boonesborough, that he immediately proposed more advantageous terms,
making them so liberal, indeed, that Boone and eight of his companions
accepted the invitation to go outside with a view of holding a
conference.
Boone and his escort went forth in good faith, but they had not been
in the clearing long when it became evident that a trap was set and
treachery intended.
By a sudden concerted movement, the whites escaped from the Shawanoes,
who were seeking to surround them, and dashing into the gates, closed
them and hastened to the bastions, where they stood ready to answer the
British captain at the muzzle of the rifle.
The fight commenced at once, a hot fire being opened from every
direction upon the fort, but the pioneers returned it so sharply, and
with such precision, that the Indians were forced to shelter themselves
behind stumps and trees, from which they could discharge their guns
with less certainty of aim.
Captain Duquesne gained a more appreciative idea of the skill of the
Kentucky marksmen than he had ever held before, for the station was not
only well guarded on every side, but it seemed impossible for a warrior
to show himself for a second without being perforated by some settler,
whose rifle sent out its sharp, whiplike crack, whenever an "opening"
presented itself.
So ceaseless was the vigilance of the whites, and so accurate and
deadly their aim, that Captain Duquesne quickly perceived that despite
the overwhelming numbers at his command, he would have to try some
other method other than the desultory firing, which promised to
accomplish absolutely nothing at all.
He therefore determined to undermine and blow up the garrison.
It was not quite two hundred feet from the fort to the bank of the
river, where the Canadians and Indians at once began digging in the
direction of the stockades.
But the dangerous work of mining is always open to defeat by
countermining, as was proven by the gallant defenders of Fort
Presq'Isle, when they were so sorely pressed, and Boone instantly set
his men at work.
As the dirt was cast up, it was also thrown over the pickets, the
purpose being that Captain Duquesne should be apprised that his scheme
was discovered, and the settlers were engaged in the same proceedings.
Boone learned what the besiegers were doing, by observing that the
water below the fort was muddy, while it was clear above.
Captain Duquesne saw that it was idle to prosecute this method of
attack, when the enemy were countermining, and he gave it over.
But he had with him, as we have shown, the most formidable force that
in all the history of Boonesborough was ever gathered before it, and he
doubted not that it must fall before a regular siege.
Accordingly he invested it, intending to starve the garrison into
submission, if no other method presented itself, for there was nothing
to be feared in the way of re-enforcements coming to the assistance of
the defenders.
The siege lasted nine days. During this time, the settlers had only
two men killed, while some of the besiegers were constantly falling
before their deadly rifles. They could accomplish nothing, and Captain
Duquesne decided to raise the siege.