HISTORICAL EVENTS.
From the first inroads of the whites upon what the Indians considered
their lawful possessions, although by them unoccupied--namely, the
territory known as Kan-tuck-kee--up to the year which opens our story,
there had been scarcely any cessation of hostilities between the two
races so antagonistical in their habits and principles. Whenever an
opportunity presented itself favorable to their purpose, the savages
would steal down from their settlements--generally situated on the
Bottom Lands of the principal rivers in the present State of Ohio--cross
over _La Belle Riviere_ into Kentucky, and, having committed as many
murders and other horrible acts as were thought prudent for their
safety, would return in triumph, if successful, to their homes, taking
along with them scalps of both sexes and all ages, from the infant to
the gray-beard, and not unfrequently a few prisoners for the amusement
of burning at the stake.
These flying visits of the savages were generally repaid by similar
acts of kindness on the part of the whites; who, on several occasions,
marched with large armies into their very midst, destroyed their crops
and stores, and burnt their towns. An expedition of this kind was
prosecuted by General Clark, in August of the year preceding the events
we have detailed, of which mention has been previously made. He had
under his command one thousand men, mostly from Kentucky, and marched
direct upon old Chillicothe, which the Indians deserted and burnt on
his approach. He next moved upon the Piqua towns, on Mad river, where
a desperate engagement ensued between the whites and Indians, in which
the former proved victorious. Having secured what plunder they could,
together with the horses, the Kentuckians destroyed the town, and cut
down some two hundred acres of standing corn. They then returned to
Chillicothe on their homeward route, where they destroyed other large
fields of produce, supposed in all to amount to something like five
hundred acres.
We have mentioned this expedition for the purpose of showing why the
year which opens our story, 1781, was less disastrous to the frontier
settlers than the preceding ones--the Indians being too busily occupied
in repairing the damage done them, and in hunting to support their
families, to have much thought for the war-path, or time to follow it;
consequently the year in question, as regards Kentucky, may be said to
have passed away in a comparatively quiet manner, with no events more
worthy of note than those we have laid before the reader.
But if the vengeance of the savage slumbered for the time being, it was
only like some pent up fire, burning in secret, until opportunity should
present for it to burst forth in a manner most appalling, carrying
destruction and terror throughout its course; and in consequence of
this, the year 1782 was destined to be one most signally marked by
bloody deeds in the annals of Kentucky. The winter of '81 and '82
passed quietly away; but early in the ensuing spring hostilities were
again renewed, with a zeal which showed that neither faction had
forgotten old grudges during the intervening quietude. Girty did all
that lay in his power to stir up the vindictive feelings of the Indians,
and was aided in his laudable endeavors by one or two others[18] who
wore the uniform of British officers. It was the design of the renegade
to raise a grand army from the union of the Six Nations, lead them
quietly into the heart of Kentucky, and, by a bold move, seize some
prominent station, murder the garrison, and thus secure at once a
stronghold, from which to sally forth, spread death and desolation in
every quarter, and, if possible, depopulate the entire country. Long
and ardently did he labor in stirring up the Indians by inflammatory
speeches; till at last he succeeded in uniting a grand body for his
hellish purpose; which, on the very eve of success, as one may say, was
at last frustrated by what seemed a direct Providence, of which more
anon, and its proper place.
Previously, however, to the event just referred to, parties of Indians,
numbering from five to fifty, prowled about the frontiers, committing
at every opportunity all manner of horrid deeds, and thus rousing the
whites to defence and retaliation. One of these skirmishes has been more
particularly dwelt on, by the historians of Kentucky, than any of the
others; on account, probably, of the desperate and sanguinary struggle
for mastery between the two contending parties, and the cruel desertion,
at a time of need, of a portion of the whites; by which means the
Indians had advantage of numbers, that otherwise would have been equally
opposed. We allude to what is generally known as Estill's Defeat.
It is not our province in the present work to detail any thing not
directly connected with our story; and therefore we shall pass on, after
a cursory glance at the main facts in question. Sometime in March, a
party of Wyandots made a descent upon Estill's station, which stood near
the present site of Richmond; and having killed and scalped a young
lady, and captured a Negro slave, were induced, by the exaggerated
account which the latter gave of the force within, to an immediate
retreat; whereby, probably, the lives of the women and children, almost
the only occupants, were saved--Captain Estill himself, with his
garrison, and several new recruits, being at the time away, on a search
for these very savages, who were known by some unmistakable signs to be
in the vicinity. Word being despatched to Estill, of what had transpired
in his absence, he immediately sought out the trail of the retreating
foes, which he followed with his men, and toward night of the second day
overtook them at Hinston's Fork of Licking, where a desperate engagement
immediately ensued. At the onset, there were twenty-five Indians, and
exactly the same number of whites; but the immediate desertion, in a
cowardly manner, of a certain Lieutenant Miller, with six men under his
command, left the odds greatly in favor of the Wyandots, who were all
picked warriors. Notwithstanding the cowardice of their companions, our
little Spartan band fought most heroically for an hour and
three-quarters; when the few survivors, on both sides, being almost worn
out, ceased hostilities as by mutual consent. In this ever memorable
action, Captain Estill, a brave and popular man, together with nine of
his gallant companions, fell to rise no more. Four others were badly
wounded, leaving only the same number of unharmed survivors. The
Indians, it was afterwards ascertained, had seventeen warriors killed on
the field, among whom was one of their bravest chiefs, and two others
severely wounded; and there has been a tradition since among the
Wyandots, that only one survivor ever returned to tell the tale.
The news of the foregoing disastrous skirmish flew like wild fire, to
use a common phrase, throughout the borders, and, together with others
of less note, served to kindle the fire of vengeance in the bosoms of
the settlers, and excite a deeper hostility than ever against the savage
foe. Nor was the subsequent conduct of the Indians themselves calculated
to soften this bitter feeling against them; for, to use the words of a
modern writer, "The woods again teemed with savages, and no one was safe
from attack beyond the walls of a station. The influence of the British,
and the constant pressure of the Long Knives, upon the red-men, had
produced a union of the various tribes of the northwest, who seemed to
be gathering again to strike a fatal blow at the frontier settlements;
and had they been led by a Phillip, a Pontiac, or a Tecumseh, it is
impossible to estimate the injury they might have inflicted."
Whether the foregoing remarks may be deemed by the reader a digression,
or otherwise, we have certainly felt ourself justified in making them;
from the fact, that our story is designed to be historical in all its
bearings; and because many months being supposed to elapse, ere our
characters are again brought upon the stage of action, it seemed
expedient to give a general view of what was taking place in the
interval. Having done so, we will now forthwith resume our narrative.
About five miles from Lexington, a little to the left of the present
road leading thence to Maysville, and on a gentle rise of the southern
bank of the Elkhorn, at the time of which we write, stood Bryan's
Station, to which we must now call the reader's attention. This station
was founded in the year 1779, by William Bryan, (a brother-in-law of
Daniel Boone,) who had, prior to the events we are now about to
describe, been surprised and killed by the Indians in the vicinity of a
stream called Cane Run.
This fort, at the period in question, was one of great importance to the
early settlers--standing as it did on what was considered at the time of
its erection, the extreme frontier, and, by this means, extending their
area of security. The station consisted of forty cabins, placed in
parallel lines, connected by strong pallisades, forming a parallelogram
of thirty rods by twenty, and enclosing something like four acres of
ground. Outside of the cabins and pallisades, to render the fort still
more secure, were planted heavy pickets, a foot in diameter, and some
twelve feet in height above the ground; so that it was impossible for an
enemy to scale them, or affect them in the least, with any thing short
of fire and cannon ball. To guard against the former, and prevent the
besiegers making a lodgment under the walls, at each of the four corners
or angles, was erected what was called a block-house--a building which
projected beyond the pickets, a few feet above the ground, and enabled
the besieged to pour a raking fire across the advanced party of the
assailants. Large folding gates, on huge, wooden hinges, in front and
rear, opened into the enclosure, through which men, wagons, horses, and
domestic cattle, had admittance and exit. In the center, as the reader
has doubtless already divined, was a broad space, into which the doors
of the cabins opened, and which served the purpose of a regular common,
where teams and cattle were oftentimes secured, where wrestling and
other athletic sports took place. The cabins were all well constructed,
with puncheon floors, the roofs of which sloped inward, to avoid as much
as possible their being set on fire by burning arrows, shot by the
Indians for the purpose, a practice by no means uncommon during a siege.
This fort, at the period referred to, was garrisoned by from forty to
fifty men; and though somewhat out of repair, in respect to a few of its
pallisades, was still in a condition to resist an overwhelming force,
unless taken wholly by surprise. There was one great error, however,
connected with its design--and one that seems to have been common
to most of the stations of that period--which was, that the spring,
supplying the inmates with water, had not been enclosed within the
pickets. The reader can at once imagine the misery that must have ensued
from this cause, in case of their being suddenly assaulted by a superior
enemy, and the siege protracted to any considerable length of time.
Within this fort, on their return from captivity, Mrs. Younker and Ella
had taken up their abode, to remain until another cabin should be
erected, or it should be thought safe for them to live again in a more
exposed manner. Isaac had straightway repaired to his father-in-law's,
to behold again the idol of his heart, and pour into her ear his grief
for the loss of his father and friend, and receive her sympathy for his
affliction in return. The disastrous affair which had called him and his
companions so suddenly from a scene of festivity to one of mourning--the
loss of so many valuable neighbors, and the result of the expedition
in pursuit of the enemy--created at the time no little excitement
throughout the frontiers, and caused some of the more timid to resort
to the nearest stations for security. But as time wore on, and as
nothing serious happened during the fall and winter, confidence and
courage gradually became restored; and the affair was almost forgotten,
save by the friends and relatives of the deceased and those particularly
concerned in it.
Spring, however, revived the alarm of the settlers, by the reappearance
of the enemy in all quarters, and the outrages they committed, as before
mentioned; so that but very few persons ventured to remain without the
walls of a fort; and these, such of them as were fortunate enough to
escape death or captivity, were fain to seek refuge therein before the
close of summer.
Immediately on the receipt of the alarming intelligence of Estill's
defeat, Isaac, his wife, and the family of his father-in-law, Wilson,
repaired to Bryan's Station, and joined Mrs. Younker and Ella, who had
meantime remained there in security.
[Footnote 18: McKee and Elliot.]