|Many were the brilliant exploits of the pioneers of Kentucky, and among
them many a tale of woman's fortitude, intrepidity, and heroism, lived
long in the recollection of those who witnessed or mingled in the
stirring scenes. No materials can be gathered for extended memoirs of
those dwellers in the forest, whose history, were it recorded, would
throw so strong a light upon early western life; but a few detached
anecdotes--illustrative of their trials in the times of civil war--may
be found interesting. *
* See Collin's Historical Sketches of Kentucky.
The wife of the distinguished pioneer Daniel Boone--after whom Boone
County was named--and her daughters, were the first white women who
stood upon the banks of the Kentucky River. They removed to the new
fort, afterwards known as Boonesborough, in the summer of 1775. This
place soon became the central object of Indian hostilities. A cabin,
not far distant, erected to found a new fort some years afterwards, was
attacked by the savages, one man and his wife killed, and the other, Mr.
Duree, mortally wounded. His wife, who had barred the door, grasped a
rifle, and told her husband she would help him to fight, but received
the answer that he was dying. Having presented the gun through several
port-holes in quick succession, she sat down beside her husband with the
calmness of despair, and closed his eyes in death. Some hours passed,
in which nothing more was heard of the Indians, and taking her infant in
her arms--her son, three or four years older, following her, she sallied
forth in desperation to make her way to the fort at White Oak Spring.
Wandering in the woods, and running till she was nearly exhausted, she
came at length to the trail, and pursuing it, met her father-in-law,
with his wife and son, on their way to the new station. The melancholy
tidings changed their course; they led their horses into an adjoining
cane brake, unloaded them of the baggage, and regained the White Oak
Spring before daylight.
The wife of Whitley, another of the enterprising hunters whose
adventurous exploits have shed a coloring of romance over the early
history of Kentucky, manifested a spirit of adventure and a love of
independence equal to his own. To his observation that he had heard a
fine report of Kentucky, and thought they could obtain a living there
with less hard work--her answer was--"Then, Billy, I would go and see;"
and in two days he was on his way with axe and plough, and gun and
kettle. She afterwards collected his warriors to pursue the Indians.
This was on an occasion when the emergency called for prompt action--the
camp of an emigrant named M'Clure having been assaulted in the night and
six whites killed. His wife fled into the woods with her four children;
but the cries of the infant she bore in her arms betrayed her place of
retreat. She heard the savages coming towards the spot, eager to imbrue
their hands in innocent blood; she could have escaped with three of
the children by abandoning the youngest; the night, the grass, and the
bushes, offered concealment--but how could the mother leave her helpless
babe to certain destruction? She resolved to die with it. The other
affrighted little ones clung to her for protection; she dared not bid
them fly and hide themselves, lest the savages should discover them; she
hoped her arms might shield them, should the inhuman enemy find them
at her side. The Indians came, and quickly extinguished both hopes and
fears in the blood of three of the children. The hapless mother and
infant were taken to their camp where she was compelled to cook the meal
on which the murderers feasted. In the morning they pursued their way,
forcing her to accompany them, riding an unbroken horse.
Whitley was not at home when the news of this outrage was brought to his
station. His wife immediately despatched a messenger for him, and sent,
in the meantime, to warn and assemble his company. When he returned, he
found twenty-one men awaiting his orders. Directing his course to the
war-path, he gained it in advance of the savages, who had stopped to
divide their plunder; concealed his men, and opening a deadly fire upon
them as they approached, soon dispersed them, and rescued the captives.
The siege of Bryant's station, near Lexington, which took place
in August, 1782, gave occasion for a brilliant display of female
intrepidity. The garrison was supplied with water from a spring at some
distance from the fort, near which a considerable body of the Indians
had been placed in ambush. Another party in full view was ordered to
open a fire at a given time, with the hope of enticing the besieged to
an engagement without the walls, when the remaining force could seize
the opportunity of storming one of the gates. The more experienced of
the garrison felt satisfied that Indians were concealed near the spring,
but conjectured that they would not unmask themselves, until the firing
on the opposite side of the fort should induce them to believe that
the men had come out and were engaged with the other party. The need
of water was urgent, and yielding to the necessity of the case, they
summoned all the women. "Explaining to them the circumstances in which
they were placed, and the improbability that any injury would be offered
them, until the firing had been returned from the opposite side of the
fort, they urged them to go in a body to the spring, and bring up each
a bucket full of water. Some, as was natural, had no relish for the
undertaking, and asked why the men could not bring water as well as
themselves, observing that they were not bullet-proof, and the Indians
made no distinction between male and female scalps. To this it was
answered, that the women were in the habit of bringing water every
morning to the fort; and that if the Indians saw them engaged as usual,
it would induce them to think their ambuscade was undiscovered; and that
they would not unmask themselves for the sake of firing at a few women,
when they hoped, by remaining concealed a few moments longer, to obtain
complete possession of the fort. That if men should go down to the
spring, the Indians would immediately suspect something was wrong, would
despair of succeeding by ambuscade, and would instantly rush upon them,
follow them into the fort, or shoot them down at the spring.
"The decision was soon made. A few of the boldest declared their
readiness to brave the danger, and the younger and more timid rallying
in the rear of these veterans, they all marched down in a body to
the spring, within point blank shot of more than five hundred Indian
warriors! Some of the girls could not help betraying symptoms of terror;
but the married women, in general, moved with a steadiness and composure
that completely deceived the Indians. Not a shot was fired. The party
were permitted to fill their buckets, one after another, without
interruption; and although their steps became quicker and quicker,
on their return, and when near the fort, degenerated into a rather
unmilitary celerity, with some little crowding in passing the gate, yet
not more than one-fifth of the water was spilled, and the eyes of the
youngest had not dilated to more than double their ordinary size." *
* M'Clung's Sketches of Western Adventure.
At the siege of Logan's fort, while the men composing the small garrison
were constantly at their posts, engaged in a vigorous defence, the
women were actively employed in moulding bullets. In 1779, General Simon
Kenton owed his liberty to female compassion. He was one of the most
celebrated pioneers of the west, and was honored by having his name
given to one of the counties of Kentucky. In an expedition for taking
horses from the Indians, he was captured, and for eight months suffered
incredible cruelties at their hands, till at length, being transferred
to a Canadian trader, he was delivered to the British commander at
Detroit. Here, while he-worked for the garrison, his hard lot excited
the commiseration of Mrs. Harvey, the wife of an Indian trader.
His exterior was calculated to interest in his fate the gentle and
enthusiastic sex; he was but twenty-four years of age, and according to
one who served with him, "was fine looking, with a dignified and
manly deportment, and a soft, pleasing voice, being wherever he went a
favorite among the ladies." He appealed to Mrs. Harvey for assistance,
and she promised at his solicitation to aid him and two other Kentuckian
prisoners in their escape, and to procure them rifles and ammunition,
which were indispensable on a journey through the wilderness. It was not
long before she found opportunity to execute her benevolent design.
A large concourse of Indians was assembled at Detroit, in western
parlance, "to take a spree;" and before indulging in their potations,
several stacked their guns near Mrs. Harvey's house. As soon as it was
dark, she stole noiselessly out, selected three of the best looking,
hid them quickly in her garden in a patch of peas, and, careful to
avoid observation, hastened to Kenton's lodgings, to inform him of her
success. Her directions were, that he should come at midnight to the
back of the garden, where he would find a ladder, by means of which he
could climb the fence and get the guns. She had previously collected
such articles of ammunition, food and clothing, as would be necessary in
their journey, and with Kenton's knowledge had hid them in a hollow tree
some distance from the town. No time was lost by the prisoners in their
secret preparations for flight. At the hour appointed, they came to the
end of the garden; the ladder was there, and Kenton climbing over, saw
Mrs. Harvey already waiting for him, seated by the place where she had
concealed the guns. No woman ever appeared half so beautiful in the
eyes of the grateful young hunter. His thanks were expressed with the
eloquence of true feeling; but she would not suffer the fugitives
to waste a moment; the night was far advanced, the shoutings of the
Indians, in their drunken revelry, could be heard all around them; a few
hours would reveal their escape and the loss of the guns, and instant
pursuit would be made. She bade him make haste to be gone; and with a
brief farewell Kenton joined his companions, with whom, hastening from
the city, he travelled towards the prairies of the Wabash. He never
ceased to remember and acknowledge, in language glowing with gratitude
and admiration, the kindness of the trader's wife; but when the lapse
of half a century had changed the aspect of the whole country, still
delighted to dwell on this adventure, saying that he had seen her a
thousand times in his reveries as he had last beheld her--"sitting by
the guns in the garden."
The presence of mind, and cool deliberate courage of Mrs. Daviess, of
Lincoln County, brought about the deliverance of herself and family from
the savages. Early one morning, her husband having left the house for
a few moments, four Indians rushed into the room where she was still in
bed with her children. They ordered her, by signs, to rise immediately;
and one of them inquired how far it was to the next house. She instantly
comprehended that it was important to make the distance appear as great
as possible, for the purpose of detaining them at the house till her
husband, who had evidently taken the alarm, should have time to bring
assistance. Counting on her fingers, she made them understand that it
was eight miles. She then rose and dressed herself; after which she
showed the savages various articles of clothing one after another--their
pleased examination delaying them nearly two hours. Another Indian, who
had been in pursuit of her husband, now entered the house, and holding
up in her sight his hands stained with pokeberry juice, at the same
time using violent gestures and brandishing his tomahawk, endeavored to
persuade her that the fugitive had been slain. Her quick eye, however,
at once discovered the deception, and she rejoiced in the evidence that
her husband had escaped uninjured.
The house was now plundered of every thing that could be carried away,
and the savages set out, taking with them Mrs. Daviess and all her
children as prisoners. The mother's care was in requisition to provide
for their safety, and she was obliged to make the two oldest carry the
younger ones, for well she knew that death would be the penalty of any
failure of strength or speed. The Indians watched them closely, that no
twigs nor weeds were broken off, as they passed along, which might serve
to mark the course they had taken. Even the length of Mrs. Daviess'
dress interfering, as they thought, with their movements, one of them
drew his knife and cut off some inches of it.
Meanwhile this courageous woman was revolving projects for accomplishing
a deliverance. She determined at length, if not rescued in the course of
the day, to make a desperate attempt at night, when the Indians should
be asleep, by possessing herself of their arms, killing as many as she
could, and inducing the belief of a night attack to frighten the others.
To such extremity was female resolution driven in those times. Those
who knew Mrs. Daviess entertained little doubt that her enterprise would
have succeeded; but she was prevented from the perilous attempt--being
overtaken and rescued by nine o'clock, by her husband and a party of
friends.
Another act of courage displayed by Mrs. Daviess, strikingly illustrates
her character. A marauder who had committed extensive depredations on
the property of Mr. Daviess and his neighbors, was pursued by them with
the purpose of bringing him to justice. During the pursuit, not aware
that they were on his track, he came to the house, armed with gun and
tomahawk, to obtain refreshment, and found Mrs. Daviess alone with her
children. She placed a bottle of whiskey on the table, and requested him
to help himself. While he was drinking, she went to the door, took his
gun, which he had set there on his entrance, and placing herself in the
doorway, cocked the weapon and levelled it at him. He started up, but
she ordered him, on pain of instant death, to sit down, and remain
quiet. The terrified intruder asked what he had done; she replied that
he had stolen her husband's property, that he was her prisoner, and she
meant to stand guard over him. She kept him thus, not daring to make
the slightest movement towards escape, till her husband and his party
returned and took him into custody.
The wife of Joseph Russell, who, with her children, was taken captive,
had the presence of mind, when on their march, to leave signs which
might show the direction they had taken, by occasionally breaking off
a twig and scattering along their route pieces of a white handkerchief
which she had torn in fragments; so that General Logan's party found
no difficulty in the pursuit. At the house of Mr. Woods, near the Crab
orchard in Lincoln County, a singular adventure occurred. He had gone
one morning to the station, not expecting to return till night, and
leaving his family, which consisted only of his wife, a young daughter,
and a lame negro man. Mrs. Woods was at a short distance from her cabin,
when she saw several Indians approaching it. Screaming loudly to give
the alarm, she ran to reach the house before them, and succeeded; but
before she could close the door, one of the savages had pushed his way
into the house. He was instantly grappled with by the negro, a scuffle
ensued, and both fell on the floor, the black man underneath. Mrs. Woods
could render no assistance, having to exert all her strength in keeping
the door closed against the party without; but the lame domestic,
holding the Indian tightly in his arms, called to the young girl to
take the axe from under the bed and despatch him by a blow on the head.
Self-preservation demanded instant obedience, and after an ineffectual
blow, the Indian was killed. The negro then proposed to his mistress to
let in another of those still trying to force open the door, and dispose
of him in the same manner; but the experiment was thought too dangerous.
Shortly after, some men from the station discovered the situation of the
family, and soon scattered the besiegers.
It was at the Blue Lick Springs, the most noted watering place in the
west, that the bloody battle was fought with the Indians which shrouded
Kentucky in mourning, and is only less famous than Braddock's defeat, in
the annals of savage warfare. A romantic incident is related as having
occurred after that fatal action. *
* Judge Robertson's Address on the Fourth of July, at Camp Madison, in
1843.
Among the unfortunate captives who had survived the ordeal of the
gauntlet, and had been painted black by the savages, as devoted
to torture and death, was an excellent husband and father. By some
unaccountable freak of clemency, his life was spared when all his fellow
prisoners were butchered. For about a year his friends believed him
numbered with the slain of that disastrous day. His wife was wooed by
another; but continued to hope against hope that he yet lived and would
return to her. Persuaded, at length, through the expostulations of
others, that her affectionate instinct was a delusion, she reluctantly
yielded a consent to the second nuptials, which, however, she postponed
several times, declaring that she found it impossible to divest herself
of the belief that her husband lived. Again she submitted to the
judgment of friends, and the day of her marriage was appointed. Just
before the dawn of that day, when we may suppose her wakeful from
reflection, the crack of a rifle was heard near her lonely cabin.
Startled by the familiar sound, she leaped out "like a liberated fawn,"
exclaiming as she sprang towards the door, "That's John's gun!" and
in an instant was clasped in the arms of her lost husband. In poetical
justice to the disappointed suitor, it should perhaps be mentioned,
that nine years afterwards the same husband was killed at "St. Clair's
defeat"--and that in proper time he obtained the hand of the fair
widow. The scene of this occurrence was in Garrard County, Kentucky.
An incident that occurred at a fort on Green River, shows the
magnanimity which the dangers besetting the emigrants of that period
often gave opportunity to exercise. Several young persons belonging
to the fort were pulling flax in one of the distant fields. They were
joined by two of their mothers, the younger carrying an infant. The
whole party was attacked by some Indians, who rushed from the woods, and
pursued them towards the fort, yelling and firing upon them. The elder
of the two mothers, recollecting in her flight that the younger, a small
and feeble woman, was encumbered with her child, turned back in the face
of the enemy, who were still firing, and rending the air with hideous
yells, snatched the babe from its almost exhausted mother, and ran with
it to the fort. She was twice shot at when the foe was near, and one
arrow passed through her sleeve; but she escaped without injury.
The attack on the house of John Merrill, in Nelson County, Kentucky, is
related differently in some particulars by different authorities; but
they agree in citing it as a remarkable instance of female heroism. *
* Drake's Book of the Indians. M'Clung's Sketches of Western Adventure,
etc.
Merrill was alarmed at midnight by the barking of the dog, and on
opening the door, was fired upon by several Indians. He fell back
wounded, and the door was instantly closed by his wife, who, an Amazon
in strength and courage, stood on guard with an axe, and killed or
wounded four as they attempted to enter through a breach. They then
climbed to the roof to come down the chimney. She hastily ripped a
feather-bed, and threw it on the fire. The blaze and smoke brought down
two Indians, whom she despatched, while she wounded the cheek of
another who meanwhile assailed the door. He fled with a loud yell; and
afterwards at Chillicothe gave an exaggerated account of the strength
and fierceness of the "long knife squaw."