In the year 1746 I was up in the country
that is now Anson, Orange and Rowan Counties, there
was not then above one hundred fighting men there
is now at least three thousand for the most part Irish
Protestants and Germans and dailey increasing. Matthew
Rowan, President of the North Carolina Council, to
the Board of Trade, June 28, 1753.
The conquest of the West is usually
attributed to the ready initiative, the stern self-reliance,
and the libertarian instinct of the expert backwoodsmen.
These bold, nomadic spirits were animated by an unquenchable
desire to plunge into the wilderness in search of
an El Dorado at the outer verge of civilization, free
of taxation, quit-rents, and the law’s restraint.
They longed to build homes for themselves and their
descendants in a limitless, free domain; or else to
fare deeper and deeper into the trackless forests
in search of adventure. Yet one must not overlook
the fact that behind Boone and pioneers of his stamp
were men of conspicuous civil and military genius,
constructive in purpose and creative in imagination,
who devoted their best gifts to actual conquest and
colonization. These men of large intellectual
mold-themselves surveyors, hunters, and pioneers were
inspired with the larger vision of the expansionist.
Whether colonizers, soldiers, or speculators on the
grand scale, they sought to open at one great stroke
the vast trans-Alleghany regions as a peaceful
abode for mankind.
Two distinct classes of society were
gradually drawing apart from each other in North Carolina
and later in Virginia the pioneer democracy
of the back country and the upland, and the planter
aristocracy of the lowland and the tide-water region.
From the frontier came the pioneer explorers whose
individual enterprise and initiative were such potent
factors in the exploitation of the wilderness.
From the border counties still in contact with the
East came a number of leaders. Thus in the heart
of the Old Southwest the two determinative principles
already referred to, the inquisitive and the acquisitive
instincts, found a fortunate conjunction. The
exploratory passion of the pioneer, directed in the
interest of commercial enterprise, prepared the way
for the great westward migration. The warlike
disposition of the hardy backwoodsman, controlled
by the exercise of military strategy, accomplished
the conquest of the trans-Alleghany country.
Fleeing from the traditional bonds
of caste and aristocracy in England and Europe, from
economic boycott and civil oppression, from religious
persecution and favoritism, many worthy members of
society in the first quarter of the eighteenth century
sought a haven of refuge in the “Quackerthal”
of William Penn, with its trustworthy guarantees of
free tolerance in religious faith and the benefits
of representative self-government. From East
Devonshire in England came George Boone, the grandfather
of the great pioneer, and from Wales came Edward Morgan,
whose daughter Sarah became the wife of Squire Boone,
Daniel’s father. These were conspicuous
representatives of the Society of Friends, drawn thither
by the roseate representations of the great Quaker,
William Penn, and by his advanced views on popular
government and religious toleration. Hither,
too, from Ireland, whither he had gone from Denmark,
came Morgan Bryan, settling in Chester County, prior
to 1719; and his children, William, Joseph, James,
and Morgan, who more than half a century later gave
the name to Bryan’s Station in Kentucky, were
destined to play important roles in the drama of westward
migration. In September, 1734, Michael Finley
from County Armagh, Ireland, presumably accompanied
by his brother Archibald Finley, settled in Bucks
County, Pennsylvania. According to the best authorities,
Archibald Finley was the father of John Finley, or
Findlay as he signed himself, Boone’s guide
and companion in his exploration of Kentucky in 1769-71.
To Pennsylvania also came Mordecai Lincoln, great
grandson of Samuel Lincoln, who had emigrated from
England to Hingham, Massachusetts, as early as 1637.
This Mordecai Lincoln, who in 1720 settled in Chester
County, Pennsylvania, the great-great-grandfather
of President Lincoln, was the father of Sarah Lincoln,
who was wedded to William Boone, and of Abraham Lincoln,
who married Anne Boone, William’s first cousin.
Early settlers in Pennsylvania were members of the
Hanks family, one of whom was the maternal grandfather
of President Lincoln.
No one race or breed of men can lay
claim to exclusive credit for leadership in the hinterland
movement and the conquest of the West. Yet one
particular stock of people, the Ulster Scots, exhibited
with most completeness and picturesqueness a group
of conspicuous qualities and attitudes which we now
recognize to be typical of the American character
as molded by the conditions of frontier life.
Cautious, wary, and reserved, these Scots concealed
beneath a cool and calculating manner a relentlessness
in reasoning power and an intensity of conviction which
glowed and burned with almost fanatical ardor.
Strict in religious observance and deep in spiritual
fervor, they never lost sight of the main chance,
combining a shrewd practicality with a wealth of devotion.
It has been happily said of them that they kept the
Sabbath and everything else they could lay their hands
on. In the polity of these men religion and education
went hand in hand; and they habitually settled together
in communities in order that they might have teachers
and preachers of their own choice and persuasion.
In little-known letters and diaries
of travelers and itinerant ministers may be found
many quaint descriptions and faithful characterizations
of the frontier settlers in their habits of life and
of the scenes amidst which they labored. In a
letter to Edmund Fanning, the cultured Robin Jones,
agent of Lord Granville and Attorney-General of North
Carolina, summons to view a piquant image of the western
border and borderers: “The inhabitants are
hospitable in their way, live in plenty and dirt, are
stout, of great prowess in manly athletics; and, in
private conversation, bold, impertinent, and vain.
In the art of war (after the Indian manner) they are
well-skilled, are enterprising and fruitful of strategies;
and, when in action, are as bold and intrepid as the
ancient Romans. The Shawnese acknowledge them
their superiors even in their own way of fighting....
[The land] may be truly called the land of the mountains,
for they are so numerous that when you have reached
the summit of one of them, you may see thousands of
every shape that the imagination can suggest, seeming
to vie with each other which should raise his lofty
head to touch the clouds.... It seems to me that
nature has been wanton in bestowing her blessings
on that country.”
An excellent pen-picture of educational
and cultural conditions in the backwoods of North
Carolina, by one of the early settlers in the middle
of the century, exhibits in all their barren cheerlessness
the hardships and limitations of life in the wilderness.
The father of William Few, the narrator, had trekked
down from Maryland and settled in Orange County, some
miles east of the little hamlet of Hillsborough.
“In that country at that time there were no
schools, no churches or parsons, or doctors or lawyers;
no stores, groceries or taverns, nor do I recollect
during the first two years any officer, ecclesiastical,
civil or military, except a justice of the peace,
a constable and two or three itinerant preachers....
These people had few wants, and fewer temptations
to vice than those who lived in more refined society,
though ignorant. They were more virtuous and more
happy.... A schoolmaster appeared and offered
his services to teach the children of the neighborhood
for twenty shillings each per year.... In that
simple state of society money was but little known;
the schoolmaster was the welcome guest of his pupil,
fed at the bountiful table and clothed from the domestic
loom.... In that country at that time there was
great scarcity of books.”
The journals of itinerant ministers
through the Valley of Virginia and the Carolina piedmont
zone yield precious mementoes of the people, their
longing after the things of the spirit, and their
pitiful isolation from the regular preaching of the
gospel. These missionaries were true pioneers
in this Old Southwest, ardent, dauntless, and heroic carrying
the word into remote places and preaching the gospel
beneath the trees of the forest. In his journal
(1755-6), the Rev. Hugh McAden, born in Pennsylvania
of Scotch-Irish parentage, a graduate of Nassau Hall
(1753), makes the unconsciously humorous observation
that wherever he found Presbyterians he found people
who “seemed highly pleased, and very desirous
to hear the word”; whilst elsewhere he found
either dissension and defection to Baptist principles,
or “no appearance of the life of religion.”
In the Scotch-Irish Presbyterian settlements in what
is now Mecklenburg County, the cradle of American
liberty, he found “pretty serious, judicious
people” of the stamp of Moses, William, and James
Alexander. While traveling in the upper country
of South Carolina, he relates with gusto the story
of “an old gentleman who said to the Governor
of South Carolina, when he was in those parts, in
treaty with the Cherokee Indians that ’he had
never seen a shirt, been in a fair, heard a sermon,
or seen a minister in all his life.’ Upon
which the governor promised to send him up a minister,
that he might hear one sermon before he died.”
The minister came and preached; and this was all the
preaching that had been heard in the upper part of
South Carolina before Mr. McAden’s visit.
Such, then, were the rude and simple
people in the back country of the Old Southwest the
deliberate and self-controlled English, the aggressive,
landmongering Scotch-Irish, the buoyant Welsh, the
thrifty Germans, the debonair French, the impetuous
Irish, and the calculating Scotch. The lives
they led were marked by independence of spirit, democratic
instincts, and a forthright simplicity. In describing
the condition of the English settlers in the backwoods
of Virginia, one of their number, Doddridge, says:
“Most of the articles were of domestic manufacture.
There might have been incidentally a few things brought
to the country for sale in a primitive way, but there
was no store for general supply. The table furniture
usually consisted of wooden vessels, either turned
or coopered. Iron forks, tin cups, etc.,
were articles of rare and delicate luxury. The
food was of the most wholesome and primitive kind.
The richest meat, the finest butter, and best meal
that ever delighted man’s palate were here eaten
with a relish which health and labor only know.
The hospitality of the people was profuse and proverbial.”
The circumstances of their lives compelled
the pioneers to become self-sustaining. Every
immigrant was an adept at many trades. He built
his own house, forged his own tools, and made his own
clothes. At a very early date rifles were manufactured
at the High Shoals of the Yadkin; Squire Boone, Daniel’s
brother, was an expert gunsmith. The difficulty
of securing food for the settlements forced every
man to become a hunter and to scour the forest for
wild game. Thus the pioneer, through force of
sheer necessity, became a dead shot which
stood him in good stead in the days of Indian incursions
and bloody retaliatory raids. Primitive in their
games, recreations, and amusements, which not infrequently
degenerated into contests of savage brutality, the
pioneers always set the highest premium upon personal
bravery, physical prowess, and skill in manly sports.
At all public gatherings, general musters, “vendues”
or auctions, and even funerals, whisky flowed with
extraordinary freedom. It is worthy of record
that among the effects of the Rev. Alexander Craighead,
the famous teacher and organizer of Presbyterianism
in Mecklenburg and the adjoining region prior to the
Revolution, were found a punch bowl and glasses.
The frontier life, with its purifying
and hardening influence, bred in these pioneers intellectual
traits which constitute the basis of the American
character. The single-handed and successful struggle
with nature in the tense solitude of the forest developed
a spirit of individualism, restive under control.
On the other hand, the sense of sharing with others
the arduous tasks and dangers of conquering the wilderness
gave birth to a strong sense of solidarity arid of
human sympathy. With the lure of free lands ever
before them, the pioneers developed a restlessness
and a nervous energy, blended with a buoyancy of spirit,
which are fundamentally American. Yet this same
untrammeled freedom occasioned a disregard for law
and a defiance of established government which have
exhibited themselves throughout the entire course
of our history. Initiative, self-reliance, boldness
in conception, fertility in resource, readiness in
execution, acquisitiveness, inventive genius, appreciation
of material advantages these, shot through
with a certain fine idealism, genial human sympathy,
and a high romantic strain are the traits
of the American national type as it emerged from the
Old Southwest.