The Posterity Project: Cherokee

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"My thoughts and my heart are for war..."

EDITOR'S NOTE: The following is an edited excerpt from John Sevier: Tennessee's First Hero supplemented by additional research compiled after the book's original publication.

During the late eighteenth century, the Watauga settlement located in present-day east Tennessee grew rapidly as white settlers arrived from Pennsylvania, North and South Carolina and Virginia. As early as the 1760s, settlers began moving into the southwest frontier, and by 1772, these first pioneers had built about seventy homesteads in the Watauga Valley.

Throughout these formative years of white settlement, the Cherokees offered little resistance to the flood of migrants pouring into the region. Great Britain's Royal Proclamation of 1763 and subsequent treaties and land cessions provided temporary periods of negotiated peace between the Wataugans and the Cherokees. Yet, settlers continued their encroachments. A war with their Chickasaw rivals to the west also distracted the Cherokees for a time, having the added effect of weakening their influence in the region.

"Map of the Watauga Settlements, Showing The Supposed Virginia Line."
Image credit: "A History of Tennessee: The Land and Native People." Tennessee Blue Book.

In short order, the Wataugans sought more land. The frontier settlers formed their own government outside the authority of British rule and negotiated land leases with their Cherokee neighbors. The rapid influx of white settlers in the region, however, made leasing the land impractical. The loss of Cherokee sovereignty over the region created periods of tension between the settlers and their Cherokee counterparts, often resulting in violent conflict. The Wataugans sought to create a buffer between themselves and the Cherokees, and that motivation compelled them to purchase the land outright.

In 1775, land speculator Richard Henderson offered to purchase 20 million acres of land from the Cherokees in return for much-needed supplies. Bounded by the "Kaintucke and Tennessee rivers," the proposed land deal included nearly all of present-day Kentucky and a portion of northeastern Tennessee. Henderson initiated negotiations with the Cherokee despite a ban on the sale or lease of Cherokee lands outlined in the Proclamation of 1763, ignoring Royal claims to portions of this territory.

By late January, more than two thousand Cherokees assembled at Sycamore Shoals to begin the negotiations. The tribe elders--Attakullakulla, Oconostota and Old Tassel--attended the talks. A defiant young Cherokee warrior named Tsiyugunsini, known to the white settlers and his fellow Cherokees as Dragging Canoe, also attended.

Born in 1740, the son of the Cherokee diplomat Attakullakulla, Dragging Canoe traveled a different path. Even as a child, he wanted to become a warrior. According to legend, "Dragging Canoe once asked his father to include him in a war party against the Shawnees, but Attakullakulla refused. Determined to go, the boy hid in a canoe, where the warriors found him. His father gave the boy permission to go--if he could carry the canoe. The vessel was too heavy, but undaunted, the boy dragged the canoe, and from that time thereafter, he was known as Dragging Canoe."

Having waged a number of battles against the white settlers, by the 1770s, Dragging Canoe had earned a reputation as a fierce warrior. Thus, when Henderson extended his offer of guns, ammunition, clothing, blankets, beads, mirrors, bells, tomahawk and hunting knives to the battle-weary Cherokee, Dragging Canoe resisted this bargained truce. While the elder statesmen of the tribe saw their treaty with the white settlers as a way to replenish their supplies, Dragging Canoe believed that any agreement with the white man placed the Cherokee on a path toward extinction. In an emotional speech before the Cherokee council, Dragging Canoe rose up in opposition to the treaty and offered these prophetic words, later chronicled by traditional accounts:

"Whole nations have melted away in our presence like balls of snow before the sun, and have scarcely left their names behind, except as imperfectly recorded by their enemies and destroyers. It was once hoped that your people would not be willing to travel beyond the mountains, so far from the ocean, on which your commerce was carried, and your connections maintained with the nations of Europe. But now that fallacious hope has vanished; you have passed the mountains and settled upon the Cherokee lands, and wish to have your usurpations sanctioned by the confirmation of a treaty."

"When that should be obtained, the same encroaching spirit will lead you upon other lands of the Cherokees. New cessions will be applied for, and finally the country which the Cherokees and our forefathers have so long occupied will be called for; and a small remnant of this nation once so great and formidable, will be compelled to seek a retreat in some far distant wilderness, there we will dwell but a short space of time before we will again behold the advancing banners of the same greedy host; who, not being able to point out any farther retreat for the miserable Cherokees, would then proclaim the extinction of the whole race. Should we not therefore run all risks and incur all consequences, rather than to submit to further laceration of our country?"

Despite Dragging Canoe's protests, Henderson secured his agreement to buy this "little spot of ground" with the signing of the Treaty of Sycamore Shoals on March 17, 1775. Dragging Canoe left the meeting in disgust, lamenting the settlers' increasing presence in the region. "The white men have almost surrounded us," Dragging Canoe remarked, "and it seems to be their intention to destroy us as a Nation."

Dragging Canoe vowed to turn the land "dark and bloody" in his fight against further settlement. "I had nothing to do with making that bargain," he later wrote, "it was made by some of the old men, who are too old to hunt or to fight. As for me, I have a great many of my young warriors around me, and they mean to have their lands." In the years that followed, Dragging Canoe led his separatist Chickamauga Cherokees in several attacks on white settlements throughout the region in a series of conflicts lasting for a decade after the Revolutionary War.

Drawing of Dragging Canoe. He is shown standing and holding a spear. This drawing was created by illustrator Bernie Andrews and originally published in The Overmountain Men by Pat Alderman in 1986.
Image and caption credit: Tennessee State Museum.

History recorded Dragging Canoe's fight to preserve his people's land and culture on the white man's terms. John Haywood described Dragging Canoe as "an obscure warrior of the Overhills" and his speech as "very animated and pathetic." J.G.M. Ramsey called the Chickamaugas "an association of lawless Cherokees and Creeks, implacable, revengeful, bloodthirsty... allies in war and malcontents in peace." These authors of early Tennessee history labeled Dragging Canoe and his tribe of Chickamauga warriors as "savages," a description often repeated in subsequent narratives.

More recent scholarship, however, has cast new light on Dragging Canoe's motives and actions, placing greater emphasis on his skills at building alliances, developing battlefield strategies, and safeguarding his people's culture. Historians later asserted that Dragging Canoe was the greatest Cherokee military leader in the Nation, known to some as "The Red Napoleon."

Dragging Canoe's forces successfully harassed white settlers throughout their conflict and boldly turned back an assault on their Chickamauga towns with a decisive defeat of American army troops at Lookout Mountain in 1788. Yet, despite this, Dragging Canoe's people suffered mightily for their resistance. Militiamen burned Cherokee towns and villages, captured or killed men, women and children indiscriminately and frequently left the Chickamaugas to starve without food, shelter, or supplies.

Dragging Canoe's resolve remained firm. Even after Cherokee elders agreed to peace terms with the new United States government following the end of the Revolutionary War, Dragging Canoe vowed to continue his fight. "My thoughts and my heart are for war," he wrote. He continued, "as long as King George has one enemy in this country. Our hearts are straight to him and all his people, and whoever is at war with us."

Dragging Canoe's fight against the Americans endured even as the Cherokee Nation continued negotiations for peace. Cherokee elders concluded their first treaty with the new nation at Hopewell in South Carolina on Nov. 28, 1785. Almost one hundred Cherokees attended with representatives from all parts of the Nation, except the Chickamauga towns. At Coyatee, Old Tassel and other Overhill Cherokee leaders were forced at gun point to sign another treaty which surrendered all remaining land north of the Little Tennessee River. Old Tassel and several other Cherokee leaders were subsequently murdered under a flag of truce, an atrocity later blamed, by some, on John Sevier, who led many of the expeditions and depredations against Dragging Canoe's resistance.

One might expect a warrior like Dragging Canoe to die on the field of battle. Yet, this man with a heart for war survived and thrived. He ultimately fulfilled his father's legacy as a diplomat in his own right. Dragging Canoe negotiated alliances with Spain in exchange for weaponry and supplies, and he focused his energies late in life on negotiating closer contacts with other Native American tribes, including the Creeks and the Shawnees. Their strong alliances with Dragging Canoe's Chickamaugas fostered an era of peace among The Nations in their shared struggle for sovereignty. Dragging Canoe's diplomatic efforts also created an environment where Cherokee culture flourished. Cherokee customs and practices endured well into the nineteenth century as a result, even as their land diminished.

Although too old to lead his men into battle, Dragging Canoe's organizational talents, strong leadership qualities, and inspired oratory skills led to several victories on the battlefield carried out by his younger warriors. While celebrating his success, Dragging Canoe died at Lookout Town on March 1, 1792. Legend asserts that upon learning of "certain successful Chickamauga depredations near Nashville," Dragging Canoe perished as a result of a "too vigorous celebration."

Dragging Canoe died as he lived--as a fiercely vocal and passionate advocate for his people. His legacy endured for years following his death with the Chickamauga tribe continuing to resist the onslaught of settlement on Cherokee land. Their efforts ultimately led to a negotiated period of peace made possible in part by the respect white settlers had gained for Dragging Canoe's unyielding show of strength.

To this day, Dragging Canoe is remembered. As one Cherokee scholar has noted, his descendants still recall with great pride Dragging Canoe's bold statement to a Native American delegation in 1779. "But we are not yet conquered."

SELECTED SOURCES:

Albert Bender. "Dragging Canoe: A true American Indian hero." The Tennessean, March 13, 2016.

Richard Blackmon. Dark and Bloody Ground: The American Revolution Along the Southern Frontier. Yardley, PA: Westholme, 2012.

John P. Brown. Old Frontiers. Kingsport, Tenn.: Southern Publishers, Inc., 1938.

R. S. Cotterill. The Southern Indians: The Story of The Civilized Tribes Before Removal. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1954.

Nadia Dean. A Demand of Blood: The Cherokee War of 1776. Cherokee, NC: Valley River Press, 2012.

Max Dixon. The Wataugans. Johnson City, Tenn.: The Overmountain Press, 1999.

E. Raymond Evans. "Notable Persons in Cherokee History: Dragging Canoe," Journal of Cherokee Studies, Winter 1977.

Patricia Bernard Ezzell. "Dragging Canoe." Tennessee Encyclopedia. Tennessee Historical Society, 2017.

Gordon Belt is a public historian and author of The History Press book, John Sevier: Tennessee's First Hero, which examines the life of Tennessee's first governor, John Sevier, through the lens of history and memory. On The Posterity Project, Gordon offers reflections on archives, public history, and memory from his home state of Tennessee.

"The great chain of friendship..."

On the second of June 1769, a company of about twenty men from North Carolina and Virginia gathered at Powell’s Valley—a majestic oasis nestled within the mountains of southwest Virginia—to hunt and explore the vast wilderness of the trans-Appalachian frontier. But these men were not nature seekers. They sought to make a living from their hunts, trading pelts for profit.

As they embarked on their journey, this eclectic assemblage of hunters, surveyors, and explorers—known collectively as “long hunters” for the long months they spent apart from civilization—gazed in awestruck silence at the beauty of this country.

One writer described the region as “an amphitheater, inclosing as it were, an ocean of woods swelled and depressed with a waving surface, like that of the great ocean itself,” and that upon entering these metaphorical waters, the long hunters found that “their enraptured imaginations could not find words sufficient to depict.” In his History of Tennessee, John Haywood remarked, “All the country through which these hunters passed was covered with high grass, which seemed inexhaustible; no traces of human settlement could be seen, and the primeval state of things reigned in unrivaled glory.”

"Cumberland Gap." Engraving by S. V. Hunt from a painting by Harry Fenn. Illus. in: Picturesque America by William Cullen Bryant. N.Y.: D. Appleton & Co., 1872.
Image credit: Library of Congress

These awe-inspired descriptions, repeated in reminisces by these explorers and their descendants and published in early historical narratives, ignored an important actor on the stage of this amphitheater of isolation and beauty. An indigenous population stood watch on the other side of that valley and their view starkly contrasted with those of the white explorers and settlers.

While this territory, rich in wild game and fertile soil, was new to the white man, the Native Americans who hunted the region knew it all too well. The Delaware Indians called this land Kentucke, meaning “Place of the Meadows” in their native tongue. The Mohawk word, Kentucke, carried similar meaning, “Among the Meadows.” The Wyandots and Shawnee who frequently came south of the Ohio River to hunt or to travel the Warriors Path shared similar descriptions of this “Land of Tomorrow” and named this country Kah-ten-tah-the, or Kain-tuck-ee.

The land south of this meadow oasis held its own fascination to both the white man and to the Indian. Spanish explorers were among the first to record the name of a Cherokee village called Tanasqui. Subsequent maps, letters, and journals referred to “the land of the Tannassy” with various spellings. The Cherokee town of Tanasi inspired other white settlers to claim the name “Tennessee” as their own. Other indigenous tribes laid claim to this hunting ground, including the Chickasaw, Creek, Shawnee, and Yuchi.

Native Americans did not watch this drama as mere spectators. In fact, many tribes began trade with the white explorers, acquiring guns and supplies in exchange for access to the land. And while they tolerated the white man’s intrusions into their native hunting grounds, over time they grew increasingly concerned by the unrestrained killing and wholesale slaughter of buffalo and deer. They looked on with anger and despair as the long hunters killed wild game indiscriminately.

During one particular hunt in the fall of 1771, Anthony and Isaac Bledsoe, along with another twenty-two long hunters, killed so many deer that many of the skins ruined before the hunters could return them back to Virginia. Isaac Bledsoe carved a record of the loss on a fallen poplar tree which had lost its bark, “2,300 Deer Skins lost; Ruination by God.”

The Cherokees and other tribes issued a warning to the long hunters: “kill it and go home.” This warning, however, fell on deaf ears. While the indigenous tribes considered this land shared hunting ground, the long hunters declared the land as theirs alone. “Name it and take it” served as their guiding maxim. Creeks, mountains, valleys, salt licks, even the trails carved out by the footsteps of natives, were soon known by the names of their white explorers. In his Annals of Tennessee, the historian, J.G.M. Ramsey declared, “Each hunter made a discovery, and time has signalized it with the discoverer’s name, thus, Drake’s Pond, Drake’s Lick, Bledsoe’s Lick, Mansco’s Lick, etc…”

As game grew scarce in the winter months, the long hunters traveled further west and southwest. They continued their unrestrained killing and wholesale slaughter of buffalo and deer. According to one writer, “A steady stream of long hunters crossed the mountains. Land hungry backwoodsmen saw visions of new homes, free from the restrictions of older settlements. Speculators, in imagination, counted fabulous profits.” These land speculators followed the long hunters into the territory, employing many of these skilled frontiersmen as guides and surveyors, carving imaginary boundary lines across vast swaths of territory.

"Colonial Surveyor"
Image credit: Digital Library of Georgia

As settlers, surveyors and speculators poured into the watersheds of the Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee rivers, Native American warriors offered some resistance, burning cabins and killing settlers. The settlers retaliated by burning cornfields, destroying villages, and killing Native Americans. One action followed another in “continuous rounds of retaliation.”

Meanwhile, Kaiyah-tahee, the regional chief of the Overhill Cherokee—known to the white settlers as Old Tassel—struggled to find a peaceful coexistence with the settlers and sought a different path toward resistance. Old Tassel witnessed with dismay the loss of land and lives suffered at the hands of the white man. He recalled how the long hunters had laid waste to the land and its wild game. He had befriended them, shared his people’s resources in good faith, and yet he felt the white man had betrayed a promise of peaceful coexistence.

In treaty negotiations with the settlers and land speculators, Old Tassel's words resonated with one translator present during the talks who remarked that his speech “was bereaved of much of its native beauty by the defects of interpretation, for the manly and dignified expression of the Indian orator loses nearly all its energy and force in translation.” Old Tassel, a “stout, mild, and decided man, never known to stoop to a falsehood,” proclaimed:

"We wish, however, to be at peace with you, and to do as we would be done by. We do not quarrel with you for the killing of an occasional buffalo or deer on our lands, but your people go much farther. They hunt to gain a livelihood. They kill all our game; but it is very criminal in our young men if they chance to kill a cow or hog for their sustenance when they happen to be in your lands."

"The Great Spirit has placed us in different situations. He has given you many advantages, but he has not created us to be your slaves. We are a separate people! He has stocked your lands with cows, ours with buffalo; yours with hogs, ours with bears; yours with sheep, ours with deer. He has given you the advantage that your animals are tame, while ours are wild and demand not only a larger space for range, but art to hunt and kill them. They are, nevertheless, as much our property as other animals are yours, and ought not to be taken from us without our consent, or for something of equal value."

Old Tassel used the tools of the surveyor as a metaphor for peace and cooperation. “When I opened the doors of peace and brightened the chain of friendship between us and our elder brothers,” he remarked, “the dead men were buried so deep that large trees had grown out of their graves.” Old Tassel and his Virginia counterpart, Evan Shelby, “stretched the chain of friendship from Virginia to Chota.” He continued stating, “that if any rust should get thereon, they and the beloved men from Chota might brighten it so that as their children came to any knowledge of things it might be a guide to them and had in remembrance for ages yet to come.”

The Virginians echoed Old Tassel’s conciliatory tone, drawing upon “the great chain of friendship” expressed by the Cherokee leader. Still, the Cherokee chief’s plea failed to move these surveyors and speculators. They ignored Old Tassel’s plea for supplies, and urged him to adopt the ways of the settlers:

"Now brothers we beg of you to listen well to what we are going to say. You told us the other day that our living was at our doors, but you had far to go and slave hard to support your people. We would recommend it to you to live as we do and only hunt for meat and skins to make you moccasins, raise corn and cattle horses and hogs and sell them to clothe your wives and children which you will find much surer and easier than your present manner of life."

The Virginians blamed the Chickamauga separatists—a group of Cherokee warriors who had refused to negotiate with the white settlers for their land—for the lack of supplies. “We are sorry to see and hear your people are so naked,” they said, promising Old Tassel that the long awaited supplies were on their way to them. “We are sorry the goods are not here to give you some clothes to return to your towns,” they insisted, “but the fault is in your enemies.” The Chickamauga and Chickasaws had refused to allow them passage.

They also claimed that they never had any intention of taking the Cherokee’s land, and promised that they would “hold fast the chain of friendship and never let it slip out of their hands.” Once peace was secured, they promised, “then we shall be able to give you a plentiful trade.” As a token of their benevolence and good will, the surveyors offered Old Tassel a string of wampum in hopes that he would accept it without further conflict.

Wampum belts were used for a variety of purposes. They represented family or clan history or an authority to enter into war, and were used as promissory notes, forms of correspondence, and as a peace offering in diplomatic negotiations.
Image credit: Smithsonian Digital Library

Following a series of treaty negotiations, the inevitable inrush of white settlers commenced. Old Tassel acknowledged the hopeless plight of his people. “We have held several treaties with the Americans when bounds were fixed,” he wrote, “and fair promises made that the white people would not come over, but we always find that after a treaty they settle much faster than before. Truth is, if we had no land we should have fewer enemies.”

In the years that followed, Old Tassel continued to hold out hope for a peaceful coexistence with the white population. He struggled to hold his people together amid the rapid settlement of his people's native hunting ground. Old Tassel ultimately died in that struggle. He was murdered under a flag of truce while seeking peace. An account recorded by John Brown in his book, Old Frontiers, chronicled the Cherokee chief's demise:

"At Chota, [Major] Hubbard requested Chief Old Tassel to accompany him to Chilhowie for a talk; the unsuspecting chief readily complied. Chilhowie was situated on the north side of Little Tennessee River, and when he had arrived opposite the town, Hubbard raised a flag of truce. After they had been ferried across, they gathered at Abram’s house for a ‘talk.’ As soon as all the prominent Indians present were inside, Hubbard closed the door and posted guards at the windows. Giving John Kirk, Junior, a tomahawk, he said, ‘Take vengeance to which you are entitled.’ Kirk needed no second command."

"Realizing the fate that was in store for himself and his companions, Old Tassel met it with fortitude. He bowed his head and received the death blow. The others, taking their cue from him, offered no resistance and were slaughtered, one at a time, unarmed, peaceful, and under a flag of truce. No more shameful deed is recorded in American history."

There, at Chota, "the great chain of friendship" broke, its links scattered upon the amphitheater.

SELECTED SOURCES:

John P. Brown. Old Frontiers: The story of the Cherokee Indians from earliest times to the date of their removal to the West, 1838. Kingsport, Tenn: Southern Publishers, Inc., 1938.

Walter T. Durham, The Great Leap Westward: A History of Sumner County, Tennessee from Its Beginnings to 1805. Sumner County Public Library Board; First Edition edition, 1969.

John Haywood. The Civil and Political History of the State of Tennessee from its earliest settlement up to the year 1796, including the boundaries of the state. Nashville, Printed by G. Wilson, 1823.

J. G. M. Ramsey. The Annals of Tennessee: To the end of the eighteenth century. Philadelphia, PA: Lippincott, 1860.

Colonial and State Records of North Carolina. Raleigh, N.C.: P. M. Hale, Printer to the State, 1886. Documenting the American South. University Library, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, 2007.

Old Frontiers...

In the course of research, whether browsing for source material at a library, archive, or online, my eyes sometimes wander towards rediscovery. John P. Brown's 1938 book, Old Frontiers: The Story of the Cherokee Indians from Earliest Times to the Date of Their Removal to the West, 1838, falls within that realm of remembrance. Old Frontiers is a book I've known about for quite some time, but only recently -- during the research phase for my book, John Sevier: Tennessee's First Hero -- did I have an opportunity to explore its pages with renewed awareness.

A resident of Chattanooga, Tennessee, for years
John P. Brown lectured in schools, civic clubs, and
women's organizations on the subject of Cherokee history.
Image credit: The Nashville Banner, Aug. 17, 1938.

   The book's subtitle reveals the scope of Brown's interest, and from the opening Preface of Old Frontiers, Brown reveals his desire to correct the narrative of Cherokee history -- a history that for a century "used the language of the United States Government" to chronicle the plight of the Cherokees. Brown blamed white settlers and their desire for land, along with the discovery of gold in Cherokee territory, for the swift nature of Indian removal. A "calm study of the facts," Brown wrote, "brings conviction that it was both inhumane and unnecessary." Brown cast a particularly critical eye towards Andrew Jackson in his Preface. "The one man responsible for Cherokee removal," Brown wrote, "was that strong character, Andrew Jackson."

   Brown, a Chattanooga native, wrote Old Frontiers in the midst of the Great Depression. That economic calamity and the societal pressures surrounding it surely influenced Brown's account of the Cherokee removal that occurred a century earlier. At the beginning of the twentieth century, scholars and historians, like Brown, attempted to debunk the myths and legends crafted by earlier chroniclers. Global war, economic chaos and what one contemporary scholar termed "the intrusive thrust of modernism" led many writers of the period to bring the past "down to non-heroic yet human proportions."

   In a review of Old Frontiers entitled, "The Cherokee Nation: A Careful Study of Unsavory History," published in the Nashville Tennessean, Sept. 18, 1938, writer Sam Carson made the following observation of Brown's work: "We gather, by preponderance of evidence, that the Cherokees were more loyal to whites than any other race, that is, in the South. They fought more for white men than against them. They were sold out time and again by bribed leaders. Their rebellions were inspired by constant encroachments. And only recently have we brought ourselves around to admit injustices to the original residents of North America."

   Despite Brown's effort to correct history's slight of the Cherokees, his narrative still deified many of the white settlers who he ultimately blamed for the Cherokee removal, including John Sevier, who Brown described as an "unselfish commander" whose "whole-hearted acceptance" by the "rough and ready frontiersmen" made him an indispensable leader on the frontier.

Old Frontiers by John P. Brown

   Brown devoted an entire chapter of his book to John Sevier entitled, "Nolichucky Jack Rides," in which he absolved Sevier of wrongdoing during his fiery campaign against the Cherokees and their settlements. According to Brown, Sevier "was one of the settlers, understood their attitude, and sympathized with them... Not a settler's cabin did Sevier pull down; he had in mind rather the destruction of other habitations, those of the red men. Yet Sevier had so impressed the Cherokees with his spirit of fairness that they were willing to rest their case in his hands: 'Send us Colonel Sevier, who is a good man.'"

   Brown also absolved the Cherokees from blame for their own depredations against the settlers of the Trans-Appalachian frontier, suggesting that they fought for the same cause as the white man. "If the Indian scalped his enemy, or burned at the stake the man who would take his country," Brown wrote, "it was nonetheless America for which he fought, with the only means at his command. Recognizing the faults of the red man, and balancing them against his treatment at our hands, the scales tip in his favor."

   Despite its tortured and paternalistic hagiography, Brown's Old Frontiers is an entertaining read, broad in scope, yet filled with individual tales of adventure. There is much that the frontier scholar and Early American historian can gain from reading this volume. Brown drew liberally from both primary and secondary sources, and provided readers with copious footnotes. These sources provide the reader with an opportunity to deeply explore this world from the perspective of the actors themselves and from the scholars who interpreted their actions. History and memory, themes explored frequently on this blog, are also present throughout Brown's work. The stories found within this volume are ripe for further analysis, making Old Frontiers a book worthy of rediscovery and scholarly interpretation.

Old Frontiers by John P. Brown, Southern Publishers, Inc., Kingsport, Tenn., 1938, is available in most public or university libraries, and may be purchased through any number of used book stores or antiquarian book dealers.

Gordon Belt is an information professional, archives advocate, public historian, and author of The History Press book, John Sevier: Tennessee's First Hero, which examines the life of Tennessee's first governor, John Sevier, through the lens of history and memory. On The Posterity Project, Gordon offers reflections on archives, public history, and memory from his home state of Tennessee.

"This effectually unmans me"

As John Sevier governed his state of Tennessee, he struggled to maintain peaceful relations with the Native American tribes living within the newly created borders of the state. Tennessee's territorial boundaries stretched from the Appalachian Mountains to the Mississippi River, and around two-thirds of that territory remained under the control of the Native American population. Managing diplomatic relations and negotiating territorial disputes between white settlers and the tribes of the region consumed much of Sevier's time and attention during his first series of administrations as governor. Congress also demanded that Sevier's citizens honor the federal government's own treaties with Native Americans, which proved challenging as land speculators and settlers extended their reach westward. Native Americans sought to defend their land and their way of life from the overmountain onslaught with frequent raids and violent assaults on established settlements. Tales of "savage" depredations against the white settlers reached every corner of the state and did nothing to help further the cause of peace.

"A map of the Tennessee government, formerly part of North Carolina taken chiefly from surveys by Genel. D. Smith and others. J.T. Scott, sculptor. American Edition of Guthrie's Geographical."
Image credit: Tennessee Virtual Archive (TeVA), Tennessee State Library and Archives

In July of 1796, Sevier revealed his discontent with the violence that characterized life on America's first frontier when he declared:

"I shall always be desirous of preserving and supporting peace between the frontiers and our Indian neighbors, by restraining, as much as possible, the former from intrusion and encroachments of every kind; at the same time hope the latter will be suffered to pass off with impunity, for any violences and depredations they may unprovokedly and wantonly commit. It is a well known fact and shamefully obvious, that all the erratic tribes are accustomed and habituated to licentiousness; and educated to a vagrant, lawless, debauched and immoral life, and nothing but a sufficient conviction of being chastised will ever deter those itinerant nations from their common desperate and rapacious practices."

By the following year, Sevier's frustration with the federal government's insistence on restraint increased. In a November 26, 1797 letter to Tennessee's Congressional delegation, Sevier lamented, "Will the American Congress cramp and refuse to the Western Americans the great natural advantages Providence has designated for, and placed before them?" With this public proclamation, Sevier revealed a personal belief held by many of his fellow pioneers, that God's mighty hand had delivered the Trans-Appalachian West to its settlers and granted them dominion over all the Indian tribes who may reside within it.

By the close of the eighteenth century, government officials looked to men of faith to quell the violence. Leading up to this moment, an effort to "civilize" the Native populations began in 1791 following the signing of the Treaty of Holston which called for the Cherokee nation to "be led to a greater degree of civilization" in order "to become herdsmen and cultivators, instead of remaining in a state of hunters." In succeeding years, the federal government embraced attempts to educate and civilize the Native American population. In 1797, President John Adams appointed an agent to the Cherokees with orders to instruct them in various methods of farming and domesticating animals. By the time Thomas Jefferson held the presidential office, his administration publicly endorsed religious missionaries in their efforts to educate and instruct the Cherokees.

Within the state of Tennessee, Governor Sevier followed President Jefferson's determined lead. In 1803, with the cooperation of several Indian chiefs, Sevier authorized a Presbyterian minister named Gideon Blackburn to set up a school at Tellico Blockhouse, an early American outpost now part of the Fort Loudoun State Historical Area located along the Little Tennessee River in present-day Monroe County, Tennessee.

In his book, Jefferson and the Indians: The Tragic Fate of the First Americans, Anthony F.C. Wallace described Blackburn's ambition "to convert the Cherokees to civilization and Christianity by educating their children. In 1804 he constructed a boarding school and in 1805 proudly presented his first class at a kind of graduation ceremony, where little Cherokees, dressed in white clothing, demonstrated their ability to read from books and sing hymns in English."

In 1804, the Reverend Gideon Blackburn opened a Presbyterian school for the Cherokee near the village of Sale Creek. In March 1817, he established a school that became known as the Brainerd Mission. More missions like this were founded throughout the region. The Brainerd Mission was a multi-acre mission school situated on Chickamauga Creek near present-day Chattanooga. It was the largest institution of its type among the Eastern Cherokees.
Image credit: Penelope Johnson Allen Papers, Special Collections, University of Tennessee at Chattanooga

In his own account of the ceremony, Blackburn recalled Governor Sevier's emotional reaction to what he had just witnessed. In a December 14, 1807 letter written to a fellow clergyman named Rev. Dr. Morse, Blackburn remarked:

"...Few of the spectators were unmoved, and many shed tears plentifully. The Governor, a hardy veteran, who had often braved the dangers of war in the same forest, said to me, 'I have often stood unmoved amidst showers of bullets from the Indian rifles; but this effectually unmans me. I see civilization taking the ground of barbarism, and the praises of Jesus succeeding to the war whoop of the savage.' All this time the tears were stealing down his manly cheek."

Gideon Blackburn
Image credit: PCA Historical Center

Similar civilization programs like Blackburn's continued throughout the American frontier. Over time, however, the federal government's experiments in cultural assimilation and religious education ultimately gave way to a national policy of forced relocation after Congress passed the Indian Removal Act of 1830. In the course of a single generation, Governor Sevier's tears of joy flowed into an ignominious "Trail of Tears" that came to symbolize our national government's callous treatment of Native Americans for generations to follow.

SELECTED SOURCES:

The Panoplist, Or, The Christian's Armory, Volume 3. "Religious Intelligence" Letter IV. Maryville, Dec. 14, 1807.

Bernard W. Sheehan. Seeds of Extinction: Jeffersonian philanthropy and the American Indian. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1973.

Grace Steele Woodward. The Cherokees. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1963.

Anthony F.C. Wallace. Jefferson and the Indians: The Tragic Fate of the First Americans. Cambridge, Mass. and London, England: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1999.

John Sevier to Andrew Jackson, et al; Nov. 26, 1797, Williams, ed., "Journal of Sevier," East Tennessee Historical Society Publications, No. 3 (1931), 161.

Samuel C. Williams, ed., "Executive Journal of Gov. John Sevier," East Tennessee Historical Society Publications, No. 1 (1929), 113.

"The stillness of death prevailed."

While the 1785 Treaty of New Hopewell officially ended fighting with the Cherokees, a rogue band of warriors led by the Chickamauga chiefs Doublehead and Dragging Canoe continued their resistance against the white settlement of land they considered native soil.

In the terms of that treaty, the Cherokees gave up land south of the Cumberland River in return for protection of other tribal lands, but the Chickamauga Cherokees would have none of it. For these warriors, the battle continued.

Many historians consider the Battle of Rock Island an important turning point in the Indian Wars of Tennessee. This small but brutal engagement on the banks of the Caney Fork River was the final armed conflict of the Indian Wars before the Cherokees signed the Treaty of Tellico, effectively ending hostilities between the two factions.

Years later, surviving veterans of this engagement recalled their participation in the battle in accounts recorded by Lyman Draper, the nineteenth-century antiquarian who made it his mission to "rescue from oblivion the memory of its early pioneers and to obtain and preserve narratives of their exploits."‎

Other writers published recollections of the battle, including the Reverend James Gwin, a veteran of the Revolutionary War who also fought against the Cherokees at Caney Fork and Nickajack. On March 21, 1834, the Western Methodist newspaper published Reverend Gwin's account of his participation in the Battle of Rock Island. This is his story...

**"Lieutenant Snoddie's Battle With The Indians," written by the Rev. James Gwin for the [Nashville] Western Methodist, March 21, 1834**

This battle was fought in the Horse Shoe Bend of the Caney Fork river, in November, 1792. At that time the people of this country were generally shut up in stations and block houses; and we did not at any time or place feel that we were safe from Indian violence. The plough-man had to be guarded in his field while tending his crop. The sentinel was generally placed outside of the field at those points where the foes would most likely make their approach, or seek to be in ambush. The time of the greatest danger was in going out in the morning to our work, for at such times we did not know at what moment we would hear the yells of savages and the report of the Indian’s gun. They would lie in close concealment, and the first discovery we would make of them, would be by the blaze of their rifles and so frequently was the laborer arrested and killed on his way to his work that we adopted the following method: early in the morning, before any person would venture out to his farm or field, we would take our rifles and mount some of our swiftest horses and set out our hunting or bear dogs and pass round the field or place of labor, and scour the woods; then guard the laborer as above noticed.

The Battle of Rock Island occurred on the Horseshoe Bend of the Caney Fork River.
Image credit: Rock Island State Park.

We had to keep guard at night in our block houses, for we were often attacked in the night. The enemy would come sometimes with torches of hickory bark and attempt to set our station on fire. About this time a large body of Indians attacked Greenfield station. It was early in the morning before any person had left the station. The enemy advanced within a short distance of the station before they were discovered, and with an awful yell the savages shouted to the attack. The station was feeble in point of numbers, for there were but few men in it—but by the efforts of a few brave fellows, led on by the gallant William Hall, now General Hall of Sumner county, the station was saved. This brave youth, not then more than 18 years old, under a shower of arrows and rifle balls threw open the gate, and followed by the few men that he had, rushed upon the foe, drove them from their coverts, and by a well directed fire which was sent among them, brought several of their leaders to the ground; at which they gathered up their dead and fled to the wilderness.

At length the Indians became so troublesome that we had to form scouting parties and surprise them at their camps, and so scout the country. Lieutenant Snoddie was ordered out on a tour of this kind. He started with thirty four mounted men, with rifles or muskets—crossed Cumberland river and ranged up Caney Fork river. We had travelled about thirty miles through the wilderness, when we discovered a large Indian camp, which we fired upon, and found in it but one Indian—and he made his escape; all the rest being out hunting as we supposed. From packages and other things, we were convinced that there could not be belonging to the camp less than fifty or sixty warriors. We took all their plunder, ammunition and implements of war which they had left at the camp. It was now near sun set and we determined to encamp within a short distance of them, and to pursue them in the morning. We made choice of a high bluff on the river, where there was an ancient stone wall, but now fallen down and lying in ruins. We laid off our encampment in a semicircle, with each wing reaching to the Bluff, and our horses and packages brought into the centre. The ground was broken and the timber small, we prepared ourselves in the best way we could for an attack, if the Indians should have courage enough to make one, all but the sentinels lay down to rest, but not to sleep. It was not long however, before the Indians began to collect their forces, and this they accomplished in perfect character with their wild and savage nature. They would imitate the wolf in his howl, screams like the panther—and then they would bark like a fox, while others hooted like an owl; and indeed the notes of almost all kinds of wild animals were heard during the night. At length a most horrid yell, supposed to be made by the chief, designated the place where all were to meet. The night was dark and rainy, and in the darkness of the night they examined the ground we occupied and held intercourse with each other by wild and savage notes. These movements produced sensations of mind more awful and terrific than even the rush of battle.

"The Passage" - Cherokee Indian statue in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Author photo.

   A little before day, all was hushed; the stillness of death prevailed, except the pattering of the falling rain. During this silence, the Indians crept up within forty steps of us, and the first discovery we had of them was the snapping of their guns. In consequence of the rain that fell during the night, there priming had become damp, and but few of their guns went off; this was much in our favor—for our arms were well secured, and this gave us a decided advantage over them. As soon as the attempt was made to fire, the yell for blood was heard almost all round our line; for they had well nigh surrounded us. Our men also shouted to the battle and poured in a shower of rifle balls among them. It was now day-light, and the Indians brought all their force to bear upon the centre of our ranks, and the contest became close and desperate. At the first fire, four of our men broke, left us and made the best of their way home. This left but thirty to contend with sixty warriors, led on by a Shawnee chief. The enemy drew up within twenty five steps and fought bravely; but they had to contend with a Spartan band who seldom threw away a shot.

   James Madell, a cool and skillful marksman, had taken his stand in the centre of the line; the courageous Lattimore and Seaberry stood behind him.—They kept up a constant fire until Lattimore and Seaberry had both fallen to rise no more. Madell still stood at his post, shooting from the right side of his tree, but which his body was protected. After having shot down 2 or 3 Indians, he discovered the chief lying all along on the ground loading his gun. Madell had but two balls in his gun; he reserved his fire and waited on the chief till he would rise to shoot, at length he raised his head above the grass to fire, and received the two balls of Madell’s gun down his throat, which dropped him dead upon his arms. As soon as the chief had fallen, the war-whoop ceased, and the Indians determined to carry their dead chief with them off the field, which was contrary to the wishes of our men,--so for a few moments the battle raged anew around the body of the fallen chief, until H. Shoddar, a Dutchman, who had a large British musket, put seven rifle balls in it and fired in the midst of them—at which they broke and left their chief behind, though they carried off the rest of their dead and wounded into a thick canebrake just below on the river.

   Thus ended our little battle. We learned afterwards that 13 Indians were killed and several wounded, who died soon after. We had 2 killed and 3 wounded; one of the wounded we had to bring in on a horse litter. We lost also several of our horses in the engagement; but, truly the victory was on our side.

SELECTED SOURCES:

"Lieutenant Snoddie's Battle With The Indians," Western Methodist, March 21, 1834.

"Reminiscences of Snoddy's Fight, November 1793" (From Capt. Wm. Reid, of Sumner Co., Tenn. about 79 in 1844.) Draper Manuscripts, 32S 490-493.

John Carr. Early Times in Middle Tennessee. Nashville, Tenn.: Parthenon Press, 1958, c1857.

John Haywood. Civil and Political History of the State of Tennessee from Its Earliest Settlement Up To the Year 1796. New York: Arno Press, 1971, c1823.

John P. Brown. Old Frontiers; the story of the Cherokee Indians from earliest times to the date of their removal to the West, 1838. Kingsport, Tenn.: Southern Publishers, Inc., 1938, pp. 362-363.

Rickey Butch Walker. Doublehead: Last Chickamauga Cherokee Chief. Heart of Dixie Publishing, 2012.

Albert V. Goodpasture. "Indian Wars and Warriors in Old Southwest." Tennessee Historical Magazine, Vol. 4, Nashville, 1915. [cited in Brown, 363n29]

Quote, unquote...

Spurious quotes are the bane of every historian's existence. We confront them almost on a daily basis, especially on social media and on the Internet. The onslaught of misinformation circulating online is overwhelming, and debunking these quotes can seem like a losing battle in the face of acceptance by the so called "wisdom of the crowd."

As a writer and public historian, I'm am often called upon to research the validity and accuracy of quotes attributed to historic figures. At times, this can present a challenge, particularly when researching quotations from the men who made their mark on America's first frontier in Tennessee.

I found this problem particularly challenging while researching my latest book, John Sevier: Tennessee's First Hero. Direct quotes from the patriots and pioneers of the "Old Southwest" are rare since many did not bother to commit their thoughts to paper at the moment of their individual experiences. These men and their families were more interested in survival than posterity.

Letter addressed to the warriors and chiefs
of the Cherokee Nation, written by
Tennessee Gov. John Sevier on March 28, 1797.
Tennessee State Library and Archives.
Digitized by the Digital Library of Georgia.

Fortunately, a few records of this important time and place in Tennessee history do exist. Prominent men in positions of authority, men like John Sevier, wrote letters as part of their military and governmental duties. Years later, antiquarians like John Haywood, J.G.M. Ramsey, and Lyman Draper "rescued from oblivion" the papers and manuscripts of these frontiersmen and sought recollections from the aging pioneers and their descendants. Additionally, long after the Revolutionary War, when the veterans of the patriot cause sought pension benefits, a record of the thoughts and actions of the common soldier finally came to light through vividly descriptive pension applications.

There are, however, many gaps in the historical record, and over the years writers and storytellers eagerly filled the void with literary embellishments. Some quotes attributed to Sevier and his contemporaries were manufactured from the memories of the elderly veterans who once served under his command, or from these veterans' descendants who remembered stories told to them by their ancestors and recalled them for the antiquarians of the period. Writers of the mid- to late-nineteenth century attempted to reconstruct the narrative of their lives from these recollections, and their memories were not always accurate.

During my research, I occasionally encountered a quote attributed to Sevier and wondered to myself, "Did he really say that?" One particularly troubling and disturbing quote continues to vex me to this day.

In Grace Steele Woodward's 1963 book, The Cherokees, Woodward stated that Sevier once referred to the children of the Cherokees as "nits that make lice," and while conducting military raids against the Cherokees, Woodward claimed that Sevier instructed his men to kill the Cherokee children along with their elders in their assault upon the villages. Woodward asserted that Sevier's men understood this order to mean that Cherokee children (nits) would eventually grow up to be adults (lice) and thus represented a threat that must be exterminated.

This is a terribly derogatory quote and brutal characterization of Sevier's attitude towards the Cherokees. Further, to my knowledge, no direct reference to Sevier ever having said this exists. Tracing the origins of this quote, I tried in vain to find a letter or diary entry that could confirm Sevier actually made these remarks. Woodward failed to cite her source in her book, yet, I have seen more than one secondary source place these very words in Sevier's mouth, citing Woodward's quote as if it were the documented truth.

Frontiersmen apparently made frequent use of this cruel expression. According to a footnote cited in John P. Brown's Old Frontiers, the phrase "was adopted by the Americans from a remark made by Henry Hamilton," who in the Spring of 1782 addressing a council of Indians at Detroit, "instructed his red allies that King George expected them to take up the hatchet and 'Kill all the Long Knife (Americans), and that supplies would be withheld from those who failed to heed his command.'" According to Brown, when the Delaware Chief Half King questioned the command, asking, "Father, only men in arms--not women and children?" Hamilton replied "All, all, kill all! Nits make lice!" While Brown noted that "Even the Indians revolted at such tactics," this attitude permeated both sides of the conflict between the frontiersmen and the Indians, making the warfare between the two especially brutal.

Both Brown and another Cherokee scholar named E. Raymond Evans actually credited one of Sevier's militiamen, a man named Thomas Christian, with making the remark. In June of 1788, Sevier led an assault on Cherokee towns located on the banks of the Hiwassee River. According to Evans, militiamen killed five Cherokees and captured one young boy in the surprise attack. "Sevier burned the town and pursued the Cherokees to the mouth of the Valley River, where several of his men narrowly escaped an ambush," Evans wrote. He continued, "The delay caused by the ambush gave the Cherokees enough time to reach safety, but during the excitement the little boy who had been captured by the whites was brutally murdered by one of Sevier's men, Thomas Christian, who made the callous remark, 'Nits make lice.'"

A three-dimensional visualization of a typical Cherokee village.
Image courtesy of the Virtual Hampson Museum.

Brown and Evans cited the Draper Manuscripts as their source for the quote credited to Thomas Christian. Between 1841 and 1844, Lyman Draper interviewed many of the principal participants of Sevier's campaigns against the Cherokees and took copious notes of his conversations. Draper also corresponded with Sevier's son, George Washington Sevier, who according to Brown, supplied the antiquarian with the quote during an interview in February of 1844. There's just one problem... My own careful examination of Draper's handwritten account of this interview yielded no reference to the offending quote.

In fact, George Washington Sevier told Draper that his father "always regretted" any harm that came against the Cherokee women and children "by way of retaliation for their late depredations among his people." However, General Sevier showed little mercy for the remainder of the Cherokee tribe. During Draper's interview, George Washington Sevier further added that if the Cherokee warriors fired upon his father's men, Sevier "would return and destroy every town in the Nation." As a distant voice called out to the general to ask if he really intended to burn their villages, according to Sevier's own son the general replied, "Yes, I'll be damned if I don't!"

Further complicating matters, Evans cited a letter from George Washington Sevier to Lyman Draper dated February 16, 1844 as the source of the now infamous "nits make lice" quote. Again, turning to the Draper Manuscripts, I found no reference to the offending quote attributed to either Sevier or Christian. Is this a case of one scholar repeating the mistakes of another and thus creating a truth that never really existed?

Needless to say, I did not use this particular quote in my book because I could not confirm Sevier actually said this, but I did locate plenty of evidence from writings in Sevier's own hand and within the Draper Manuscripts to give one a compelling view of Sevier's attitude towards the Cherokees. Still, Sevier's deeply complicated relationship with the Cherokees has remained wrapped up in folklore and patriotic rhetoric for generations. It is a subject that I wrote about at length in a previous blog post on The Posterity Project, and it continues to be a topic that elicits emotional reactions from a few of Sevier's most ardent admirers.

While it is entirely fair to analyze Sevier's motives based on historical evidence and scholarship, we cannot fully measure Sevier's character based purely on second-hand information, undocumented quotes, and the hagiographic narratives written by Sevier's admirers. One must look at Sevier's actions throughout the course of his life through well-documented evidence to gain a proper historical perspective. It is impossible to ignore history's painful past, "warts and all," but we must be careful in passing judgement on a man of the past based on present-day values and sensibilities. A true measure of Sevier's character, especially where it concerns the Native Americans, has eluded antiquarians, scholars and historians for decades, and by my estimation, still does so to this day.

SELECTED SOURCES

John P. Brown. Old Frontiers. Kingsport, Tennessee: Southern Publishers, Inc., 1938.

Draper Manuscripts, Madison: The State Historical Society of Wisconsin (Available on microfilm at the Tennessee State Library and Archives).

E. Raymond Evans. "Notable Persons in Cherokee History: Bob Benge." Journal of Cherokee Studies, Vol. 1, No. 2 (Fall 1976).

Grace Steele Woodward. The Cherokees. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1963.

“They concluded that we came out of the clouds”

In 1834, a debate raged in Congress over whether or not to extend pension benefits to veterans of the Indian Wars. Newspapers published impassioned speeches by elected representatives holding strong opinions on both sides of the issue. False claims for Revolutionary War benefits led to calls for reform and a hesitancy to extend benefits to those who fought in the Indian Wars of the far reaches of America's first frontier.

For those in favor of granting pensions to veterans of the Indian Wars, the rhetoric in these debates often cast these men as heroes. Members of Congress from southern states, in particular, argued that these soldiers valiantly defended their homes and families against brutal Indian attacks, and had earned the right to claim pension benefits in their later years in their defense of the Old Southwest. In response to criticism by a fellow Congressman who labeled the early settlers as "plunderers and savage murderers," Tennessee Rep. Balie Peyton declared:

I, sir, am proud to trace my origin to that race of men... I value the reputation of that band of patriots as dearer than gold... They were no "plunderers." No, sir, they were soldiers, true and pure; and a soldier never stains his hand with "plunder." The brave are always tender and humane. They "plunderers!" What temptation was there in the frowning forest of the West to invite to "plunder." None, sir, none.

Nashville's Western Methodist newspaper published many of these debates, and after reading one of the articles a Methodist minister named James Gwin responded by writing to the editor of the newspaper to recall his own participation in the Indian Wars of Tennessee.

A native North Carolinian, Reverend Gwin and his brothers served in the Revolutionary War, and in 1790 he removed his family to Tennessee, settling in the border region between Kentucky and Tennessee, later participating in battles with Indians at Caney Fork and Nickajack. On September 12, 1794, an army of about 500 men from Middle Tennessee, East Tennessee and Kentucky attacked Nickajack in retaliation for the Chickamaugas continued assaults on the white settlements. Gwin was among the early settlers of this region to participate in this battle. This is Reverend Gwin's story as recorded in the April 11, 1834 edition of the Western Methodist newspaper:

In reading over in your paper two or three weeks since the remarks made in Congress by the Hon. Mr. Peyton, of Tennessee, on the Nickajack expedition, it brought afresh to my mind events long since past by. I called to mind the forms of my old companions in arms, with whom I suffered in those times of tribulation which tried men’s souls; but alas! There are few now living who bore a part in our earlier Indian wars. I concluded I would write a brief sketch of the events of that expedition for insertion in your very interesting paper.

The Indian town called Nickajack was settled by an amalgamation of different tribes of Indians, called by the general name of Chickamaugas. It was situated in what is now Indian territory, on the south bank of the Tennessee river, at the base of the Look-Out mountain, between two creeks that disgorged their sluggish waters into the Tennessee. This town or Indian fort was called by the Indians the “Yellow Jackets, nest.” It was the rendezvous of all the southern as well as northern hostile warriors; here they formed their plans of attack on the white settlements. They considered their situation impregnable, and boasted of being able to raise three thousand warriors in one day from the adjacent towns and forests (as we were informed by Fenelstone, a half-breed, who deserted from them, gave us information of their intended attack on Nashville, and was our guide when we assaulted Nickajack.) Proud and haughty in their independent security, they paid no attention to treaties. At length they became so troublesome that no alternative was to be chosen between breaking them up or leaving the country.

   Tennessee, at that time, could not boast of men enough to ensure success to the expedition, and at the same time leave enough at home to guard and protect the women and children. Gen. Robertson, therefore, sent to Kentucky for help; it was granted. The brave Col. Whitley (who fell in the last Indian war at the battle of the Thames) soon appeared at Nashville with 180 brave Kentuckians, well armed and appointed; our men were all ready; we were joined by Major Ore of East Tennessee, the commander of the rangers, who had been on an expedition searching for the Indians on the Cumberland mountain; having heard of our expedition, he hastened and joined us with 80 men just as we were ready to start. We now numbered in all 600 men; we took the wilderness with Fenelstone for our guide. Passing on in good order, we reached the Tennessee river on the fourth day of our march about midnight. It was in the month of August, about the year 1798—warm and sultry. We commenced making a few boats with frames of sticks, on which were stretched raw hides that we had packed up and brought along for that purpose. While the boats were getting ready two men swam across the river and kindled up a fire on the opposite shore so as to direct us across, and the men soon commenced crossing. The boats carried the guns and those soldiers who could not swim; others swam across, so that before eight o’clock in the morning, 272 men had crossed over safely.

   We were then four miles below Nickajack and three miles above Crow town; and the morning was so far advanced we could not safely wait for any more to get over for fear of being discovered. We resolved to make the attack even with this small number. Col. Montgomery had got over and took command of the Tennessee troops, and Col. Whitley of the Kentuckians. As the lower creek cut off our direct approach to the town, we had to take a circuit of seven miles and cross over a spur of the mountain so as to descend upon the town in the rear. We would run with all our speed a few moments and then lie down flat on the ground until we took breath and then would run again. We thus soon reached the mountain undiscovered, and sat down and rested on the cliffs quite overlooking the town. We sat there in gloomy silence nearly half an hour—then slid down the rocks unperceived and formed in the underwood in the rear of the town. Whitley commanded the right wing, Montgomery the centre, and Ore the left. We advanced and found the Indians at breakfast. They knew nothing of us until they saw the flash and heard the rifles speak; and then so much were they deceived that the warriors near the bank of the river when they heard our guns came running with drums and shouting for joy, supposing that some of their own people had returned from a successful excursion against the whites, and were firing off their guns in triumph.

   Many of the Indians were shot down on the spot, and the remainder made for the river; and as many as could getting into their canoes, and others swimming with their heads the most of the time under water; yet when they rose to take a breath, the unerring rifle would send them down again, while a red gush of blood boiling up to the surface of the river showed too plainly that they would never rise again. Those in the canoes could not lift a hand to use their paddles; they lay stupefied in the bottoms of their frail barks, while the rifle ball would search them out like an inevitable death warrant.

   During the space of forty-five minutes, we killed 143 Indians, took all the women and children whom we could find as prisoners, and brought them off with us. In this affair we had only two men slightly wounded.

   Long Town lay on the river 2 or 3 miles above.—The troops hastened on to attack it. The path lay along the river bank and close under the ridge of the mountain. When about half way between the two towns, the Indians made a furious attack upon us from the mountain above. The firing was quite sharp for a few minutes—but as their chief lifted his head over a rock to fire, he was shot through the skull and came rolling down the mountain like a huge lump of shapeless flesh. The Indians immediately fled. The brave Thomas, of Nashville, here got his death wound.—The savages firing from above shot him in the bosom, and the ball came out behind quite low down his back. We brought him off alive on a horse litter, but he died soon after our return.

   Our men advanced, burnt Long Town and some other smaller towns unopposed, as the Indians had all fled; we then returned and crossed over to our camp without any other loss than the three wounded (one mortally) mentioned before. We took about 20 canoes, on which we put the wounded, the prisoners, and the goods found in Nickajack—for the Spanish had a store in this fort, and no doubt many villainous Spaniards were killed in the battle, who had often stirred up the Indians against the early American settlers.

   After the canoes had started down the river a band of Indians on the other side of the river from Nickajack commenced an attack, but desisted when told by Fenelstone in the Indian language that if they fired another gun their women and children and prisoners should be instantly put to death. At this moment a squaw who had her infant lashed to her back sprung from one of the canoes and swam to the shore in sight of all our troops, and made her escape.

   Thus closed one of the days of severest fatigue ever experienced in the West. This day’s work closed the Indian wars which had raged for many years with great barbarity. Gen. Robertson left a written notice at his camp, informing the Indians, that if any more murders were committed on the whites, he would raise an army, destroy all their towns and burn their corn. They took the alarm; their strong hold was broken up: many of their chiefs killed, and they sued for peace. A treaty followed—and from that time until the last war they lived in peace.

   All their prisoners were returned to them. The squaws informed us that they had often advised their young men and warrior chiefs to quit killing the white people and stealing their horses or that we would come and kill them all—but their men would not mind them. When they saw us come suddenly upon them on the morning of the battle they concluded that we came out of the clouds.

"Early Settlers of the West." Western Methodist (Nashville, Tenn.), March 14, 1834.

"The Battle of Nickajack by the Rev. James Gwin." Western Methodist (Nashville, Tenn.), April 11, 1834.

Image: The Tennessee River Gorge. Author photo.

Illustration: "Expedition against the Cherokee" courtesy of the Tennessee State Museum.

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