About eight hundred of the volunteers, and of that number I was one,
were now sent back, crossing the Tennessee river, and on through
Huntsville, so as to cross the river again at another place, and to get
on the Indians in another direction. After we passed Huntsville, we
struck on the river at the Muscle Shoals, and at a place on them called
Melton's Bluff. This river is here about two miles wide, and a rough
bottom; so much so, indeed, in many places, as to be dangerous; and in
fording it this time, we left several of the horses belonging to our
men, with their feet fast in the crevices of the rocks. The men, whose
horses were thus left, went ahead on foot. We pushed on till we got to
what was called the Black Warrior's town, which stood near the very spot
where Tuscaloosa now stands, which is the seat of government for the
state of Alabama.
This Indian town was a large one; but when we arrived we found the
Indians had all left it. There was a large field of corn standing out,
and a pretty good supply in some cribs. There was also a fine quantity
of dried beans, which were very acceptable to us; and without delay we
secured them as well as the corn, and then burned the town to ashes;
after which we left the place.
In the field where we gathered the corn we saw plenty of fresh Indian
tracks, and we had no doubt they had been scared off by our arrival.
We then went on to meet the main army at the fork road, where I was
first to have met Major Gibson. We got that evening as far back as the
encampment we had made the night before we reached the Black Warrior's
town, which we had just destroyed. The next day we were entirely out of
meat. I went to Col. Coffee, who was then in command of us, and asked
his leave to hunt as we marched. He gave me leave, but told me to take
mighty good care of myself. I turned aside to hunt, and had not gone far
when I found a deer that had just been killed and skinned, and his flesh
was still warm and smoking. From this I was sure that the Indian who had
killed it had been gone only a very few minutes; and though I was never
much in favour of one hunter stealing from another, yet meat was so
scarce in camp, that I thought I must go in for it. So I just took up
the deer on my horse before me, and carried it on till night. I could
have sold it for almost any price I would have asked; but this wasn't my
rule, neither in peace nor war. Whenever I had any thing, and saw a
fellow being suffering, I was more anxious to relieve him than to
benefit myself. And this is one of the true secrets of my being a poor
man to this day. But it is my way; and while it has often left me with
an empty purse, which is as near the devil as any thing else I have
seen, yet it has never left my heart empty of consolations which money
couldn't buy,--the consolations of having sometimes fed the hungry and
covered the naked.
I gave all my deer away, except a small part I kept for myself, and just
sufficient to make a good supper for my mess; for meat was getting to be
a rarity to us all. We had to live mostly on parched corn. The next day
we marched on, and at night took up camp near a large cane brake. While
here, I told my mess I would again try for some meat; so I took my rifle
and cut out, but hadn't gone far, when I discovered a large gang of
hogs. I shot one of them down in his tracks, and the rest broke directly
towards the camp. In a few minutes, the guns began to roar, as bad as if
the whole army had been in an Indian battle; and the hogs to squeal as
bad as the pig did, when the devil turned barber. I shouldered my hog,
and went on to the camp; and when I got there I found they had killed a
good many of the hogs, and a fine fat cow into the bargain, that had
broke out of the cane brake. We did very well that night, and the next
morning marched on to a Cherokee town, where our officers stop'd, and
gave the inhabitants an order on Uncle Sam for their cow, and the hogs
we had killed. The next day we met the main army, having had, as we
thought, hard times, and a plenty of them, though we had yet seen hardly
the beginning of trouble.
After our meeting we went on to Radcliff's, where I had been before
while out as a spy; and when we got there, we found he had hid all his
provisions. We also got into the secret, that he was the very rascal who
had sent the runner to the Indian camp, with the news that the "red
sticks" were crossing at the Ten Islands; and that his object was to
scare me and my men away, and send us back with a false alarm.
To make some atonement for this, we took the old scroundrell's two big
sons with us, and made them serve in the war.
We then marched to a place, which we called Camp Wills; and here it was
that Captain Cannon was promoted to a colonel, and Colonel Coffee to a
general. We then marched to the Ten Islands, on the Coosa river, where
we established a fort; and our spy companies were sent out. They soon
made prisoners of Bob Catala and his warriors, and, in a few days
afterwards, we heard of some Indians in a town about eight miles off. So
we mounted our horses, and put out for that town, under the direction of
two friendly Creeks we had taken for pilots. We had also a Cherokee
colonel, Dick Brown, and some of his men with us. When we got near the
town we divided; one of our pilots going with each division. And so we
passed on each side of the town, keeping near to it, until our lines met
on the far side. We then closed up at both ends, so as to surround it
completely; and then we sent Captain Hammond's company of rangers to
bring on the affray. He had advanced near the town, when the Indians saw
him, and they raised the yell, and came running at him like so many red
devils. The main army was now formed in a hollow square around the town,
and they pursued Hammond till they came in reach of us. We then gave
them a fire, and they returned it, and then ran back into their town. We
began to close on the town by making our files closer and closer, and
the Indians soon saw they were our property. So most of them wanted us
to take them prisoners; and their squaws and all would run and take hold
of any of us they could, and give themselves up. I saw seven squaws have
hold of one man, which made me think of the Scriptures. So I hollered
out the Scriptures was fulfilling; that there was seven women holding to
one man's coat tail. But I believe it was a hunting-shirt all the time.
We took them all prisoners that came out to us in this way; but I saw
some warriors run into a house, until I counted forty-six of them. We
pursued them until we got near the house, when we saw a squaw sitting in
the door, and she placed her feet against the bow she had in her hand,
and then took an arrow, and, raising her feet, she drew with all her
might, and let fly at us, and she killed a man, whose name, I believe,
was Moore. He was a lieutenant, and his death so enraged us all, that
she was fired on, and had at least twenty balls blown through her. This
was the first man I ever saw killed with a bow and arrow. We now shot
them like dogs; and then set the house on fire, and burned it up with
the forty-six warriors in it. I recollect seeing a boy who was shot down
near the house. His arm and thigh was broken, and he was so near the
burning house that the grease was stewing out of him. In this situation
he was still trying to crawl along; but not a murmur escaped him, though
he was only about twelve years old. So sullen is the Indian, when his
dander is up, that he had sooner die than make a noise, or ask for
quarters.
The number that we took prisoners, being added to the number we killed,
amounted to one hundred and eighty-six; though I don't remember the
exact number of either. We had five of our men killed. We then returned
to our camp, at which our fort was erected, and known by the name of
Fort Strother. No provisions had yet reached us, and we had now been for
several days on half rations. However we went back to our Indian town on
the next day, when many of the carcasses of the Indians were still to be
seen. They looked very awful, for the burning had not entirely consumed
them, but given them a very terrible appearance, at least what remained
of them. It was, somehow or other, found out that the house had a
potatoe cellar under it, and an immediate examination was made, for we
were all as hungry as wolves. We found a fine chance of potatoes in it,
and hunger compelled us to eat them, though I had a little rather not,
if I could have helped it, for the oil of the Indians we had burned up
on the day before had run down on them, and they looked like they had
been stewed with fat meat. We then again returned to the army, and
remained there for several days almost starving, as all our beef was
gone. We commenced eating the beef-hides, and continued to eat every
scrap we could lay our hands on. At length an Indian came to our guard
one night, and hollered, and said he wanted to see "Captain Jackson." He
was conducted to the general's markee, into which he entered, and in a
few minutes we received orders to prepare for marching.
In an hour we were all ready, and took up the line of march. We crossed
the Coosa river, and went on in the direction to Fort Taladega. When we
arrived near the place, we met eleven hundred painted warriors, the very
choice of the Creek nation. They had encamped near the fort, and had
informed the friendly Indians who were in it, that if they didn't come
out, and fight with them against the whites, they would take their fort
and all their ammunition and provision. The friendly party asked three
days to consider of it, and agreed that if on the third day they didn't
come out ready to fight with them, they might take their fort. Thus
they put them off. They then immediately started their runner to General
Jackson, and he and the army pushed over, as I have just before stated.
The camp of warriors had their spies out, and discovered us coming, some
time before we got to the fort. They then went to the friendly Indians,
and told them Captain Jackson was coming, and had a great many fine
horses, and blankets, and guns, and every thing else; and if they would
come out and help to whip him, and to take his plunder, it should all be
divided with those in the fort. They promised that when Jackson came,
they would then come out and help to whip him. It was about an hour by
sun in the morning, when we got near the fort. We were piloted by
friendly Indians, and divided as we had done on a former occasion, so as
to go to the right and left of the fort, and, consequently, of the
warriors who were camped near it. Our lines marched on, as before, till
they met in front, and then closed in the rear, forming again into a
hollow square. We then sent on old Major Russell, with his spy company,
to bring on the battle; Capt. Evans' company went also. When they got
near the fort, the top of it was lined with the friendly Indians,
crying out as loud as they could roar, "How-dy-do, brother, how-dy-do?"
They kept this up till Major Russel had passed by the fort, and was
moving on towards the warriors. They were all painted as red as scarlet,
and were just as naked as they were born. They had concealed themselves
under the bank of a branch, that ran partly around the fort, in the
manner of a half moon. Russel was going right into their circle, for he
couldn't see them, while the Indians on the top of the fort were trying
every plan to show him his danger. But he couldn't understand them. At
last, two of them jumped from it, and ran, and took his horse by the
bridle, and pointing to where they were, told him there were thousands
of them lying under the bank. This brought them to a halt, and about
this moment the Indians fired on them, and came rushing forth like a
cloud of Egyptian locusts, and screaming like all the young devils had
been turned loose, with the old devil of all at their head. Russel's
company quit their horses, and took into the fort, and their horses ran
up to our line, which was then in full view. The warriors then came
yelling on, meeting us, and continued till they were within shot of us,
when we fired and killed a considerable number of them. They then broke
like a gang of steers, and ran across to our other line, where they
were again fired on; and so we kept them running from one line to the
other, constantly under a heavy fire, until we had killed upwards of
four hundred of them. They fought with guns, and also with their bows
and arrows; but at length they made their escape through a part of our
line, which was made up of drafted militia, which broke ranks, and they
passed. We lost fifteen of our men, as brave fellows as ever lived or
died. We buried them all in one grave, and started back to our fort; but
before we got there, two more of our men died of wounds they had
received; making our total loss seventeen good fellows in that battle.
We now remained at the fort a few days, but no provision came yet, and
we were all likely to perish. The weather also began to get very cold;
and our clothes were nearly worn out, and horses getting very feeble and
poor. Our officers proposed to Gen'l. Jackson to let us return home and
get fresh horses, and fresh clothing, so as to be better prepared for
another campaign; for our sixty days had long been out, and that was the
time we entered for.
But the general took "the responsibility" on himself, and refused. We
were, however, determined to go, as I am to put back the deposites, _if
I can_. With this, the general issued his orders against it, as he has
against the bank. But we began to fix for a start, as provisions were
too scarce; just as Clay, and Webster, and myself are preparing to fix
bank matters, on account of the scarcity of money. The general went and
placed his cannon on a bridge we had to cross, and ordered out his
regulars and drafted men to keep us from crossing; just as he has
planted his Globe and K. C. to alarm the bank men, while his regulars
and militia in Congress are to act as artillery men. But when the
militia started to guard the bridge, they would holler back to us to
bring their knapsacks along when we come, for they wanted to go as bad
as we did; just as many a good fellow now wants his political knapsack
brought along, that if, when we come to vote, he sees he has a _fair
shake to go_, he may join in and help us to take back the deposites.
We got ready and moved on till we came near the bridge, where the
general's men were all strung along on both sides, just like the
office-holders are now, to keep us from getting along to the help of the
country and the people. But we all had our flints ready picked, and our
guns ready primed, that if we were fired on we might fight our way
through, or all die together; just as we are now determined to save the
country from ready ruin, or to sink down with it. When we came still
nearer the bridge we heard the guards cocking their guns, and we did the
same; just as we have had it in Congress, while the "government"
regulars and the people's volunteers have all been setting their
political triggers. But, after all, we marched boldly on, and not a gun
was fired, nor a life lost; just as I hope it will be again, that we
shall not be afraid of the general's Globe, nor his K. C., nor his
regulars, nor their trigger snapping; but just march boldly over the
executive bridge, and take the deposites back where the law placed them,
and where they ought to be. When we had passed, no further attempt was
made to stop us; but the general said, we were "the damned'st volunteers
he had ever seen in his life; that we would volunteer and go out and
fight, and then at our pleasure would _volunteer_ and go home again, in
spite of the devil." But we went on; and near Huntsville we met a
reinforcement who were going on to join the army. It consisted of a
regiment of volunteers, and was under the command of some one whose name
I can't remember. They were sixty-day volunteers.
We got home pretty safely, and in a short time we had procured fresh
horses and a supply of clothing better suited for the season; and then
we returned to Fort Deposite, where our officers held a sort of a
"_national convention_" on the subject of a message they had received
from General Jackson,--demanding that on our return we should serve out
_six months_. We had already served three months instead of two, which
was the time we had volunteered for. On the next morning the officers
reported to us the conclusions they had come to; and told us, if any of
us felt bound to go on and serve out the six months, we could do so; but
that they intended to go back home. I knowed if I went back home I
couldn't rest, for I felt it my duty to be out; and when out was,
somehow or other, always delighted to be in the very thickest of the
danger. A few of us, therefore, determined to push on and join the army.
The number I do not recollect, but it was very small.
When we got out there, I joined Major Russel's company of spies. Before
we reached the place, General Jackson had started. We went on likewise,
and overtook him at a place where we established a fort, called Fort
Williams, and leaving men to guard it, we went ahead; intending to go to
a place called the Horse-shoe bend of the Talapoosa river. When we came
near that place, we began to find Indian sign plenty, and we struck up
camp for the night. About two hours before day, we heard our guard
firing, and we were all up in little or no time. We mended up our camp
fires, and then fell back in the dark, expecting to see the Indians
pouring in; and intending, when they should do so, to shoot them by the
light of our own fires. But it happened that they did not rush in as we
had expected, but commenced a fire on us as we were. We were encamped in
a hollow square, and we not only returned the fire, but continued to
shoot as well as we could in the dark, till day broke, when the Indians
disappeared. The only guide we had in shooting was to notice the flash
of their guns, and then shoot as directly at the place as we could
guess.
In this scrape we had four men killed, and several wounded; but whether
we killed any of the Indians or not we never could tell, for it is their
custom always to carry off their dead, if they can possibly do so. We
buried ours, and then made a large log heap over them, and set it on
fire, so that the place of their deposite might not be known to the
savages, who, we knew, would seek for them, that they might scalp them.
We made some horse litters for our wounded, and took up a retreat. We
moved on till we came to a large creek which we had to cross; and about
half of our men had crossed, when the Indians commenced firing on our
left wing, and they kept it up very warmly. We had left Major Russel and
his brother at the camp we had moved from that morning, to see what
discovery they could make as to the movements of the Indians; and about
this time, while a warm fire was kept up on our left, as I have just
stated, the major came up in our rear, and was closely pursued by a
large number of Indians, who immediately commenced a fire on our
artillery men. They hid themselves behind a large log, and could kill
one of our men almost every shot, they being in open ground and exposed.
The worst of all was, two of our colonels just at this trying moment
left their men, and by _a forced march_, crossed the creek out of the
reach of the fire. Their names, at this late day, would do the world no
good, and my object is history alone, and not the slightest interference
with character. An opportunity was now afforded for Governor Carroll to
distinguish himself, and on this occasion he did so, by greater bravery
than I ever saw any other man display. In truth, I believe, as firmly as
I do that General Jackson is president, that if it hadn't been for
Carroll, we should all have been genteely licked that time, for we were
in a devil of a fix; part of our men on one side of the creek, and part
on the other, and the Indians all the time pouring it on us, as hot as
fresh mustard to a sore shin. I will not say exactly that the old
general was whip'd; but I will say, that if we escaped it at all, it was
like old Henry Snider going to heaven, "mita tam tite squeeze." I think
he would confess himself, that he was nearer whip'd this time than he
was at any other, for I know that all the world couldn't make him
acknowledge that he was _pointedly_ whip'd. I know I was mighty glad
when it was over, and the savages quit us, for I had begun to think
there was one behind every tree in the woods.
We buried our dead, the number of whom I have also forgotten; and again
made horse litters to carry our wounded, and so we put out, and returned
to Fort Williams, from which place we had started. In the mean time, my
horse had got crippled, and was unfit for service, and as another
reinforcement had arrived, I thought they could get along without me for
a short time; so I got a furlough and went home, for we had had hard
times again on this hunt, and I began to feel as though I had done
Indian fighting enough for one time. I remained at home until after the
army had returned to the Horse-shoe bend, and fought the battle there.
But not being with them at that time, of course no history of that fight
can be expected of me.