Seventeen hundred and eighty-two proved to be Kentucky’s year of blood.  The British at Detroit had strained every nerve to drag into the war the entire Indian population of the northwest.  They had finally succeeded in arousing even the most distant tribes ­not to speak of the twelve thousand savages immediately tributary to Detroit. So lavish had been the expenditure of money and presents to secure the good-will of the savages and enlist their active services against the Americans, that it had caused serious complaint at headquarters.

    Renewal of the Indian Forays.

Early in the spring the Indians renewed their forays; horses were stolen, cabins burned, and women and children carried off captive.  The people were confined closely to their stockaded forts, from which small bands of riflemen sallied to patrol the country.  From time to time these encountered marauding parties, and in the fights that followed sometimes the whites, sometimes the reds, were victorious.

One of these conflicts attracted wide attention on the border because of the obstinacy with which it was waged and the bloodshed that accompanied it.  In March a party of twenty-five Wyandots came into the settlements, passed Boonsborough, and killed and scalped a girl within sight of Estill’s Station.  The men from the latter, also to the number of twenty-five, hastily gathered under Captain Estill, and after two days’ hot pursuit overtook the Wyandots.  A fair stand-up fight followed, the better marksmanship of the whites being offset, as so often before, by the superiority their foes showed in sheltering themselves.  At last victory declared for the Indians.  Estill had despatched a lieutenant and seven men to get round the Wyandots and assail them in the rear; but either the lieutenant’s heart or his judgment failed him, he took too long, and meanwhile the Wyandots closed in on the others, killing nine, including Estill, and wounding four, who, with their unhurt comrades, escaped.  It is said that the Wyandots themselves suffered heavily.

These various ravages and skirmishes were but the prelude to a far more serious attack.  In July the British captains Caldwell and McKee came down from Detroit with a party of rangers, and gathered together a great army of over a thousand Indians ­the largest body of either red men or white that was ever mustered west of the Alleghanies during the Revolution.  They meant to strike at Wheeling; but while on their march thither were suddenly alarmed by the rumor that Clark intended to attack the Shawnee towns. They at once countermarched, but on reaching the threatened towns found that the alarm had been groundless.  Most of the savages, with characteristic fickleness of temper, then declined to go farther; but a body of somewhat over three hundred Hurons and Lake Indians remained.  With these, and their Detroit rangers, Caldwell and McKee crossed the Ohio and marched into Kentucky, to attack the small forts of Fayette County.

Fayette lay between the Kentucky and the Ohio rivers, and was then the least populous and most exposed of the three counties into which the growing young commonwealth was divided.  In 1782 it contained but five of the small stockaded towns in which all the early settlers were obliged to gather.  The best defended and most central was Lexington, round which were grouped the other four ­Bryan’s (which was the largest), McGee’s, McConnell’s, and Boon’s.  Boon’s Station, sometimes called Boon’s new station, where the tranquil, resolute old pioneer at that time dwelt, must not be confounded with his former fort of Boonsborough, from which it was several miles distant, north of the Kentucky.  Since the destruction of Martin’s and Ruddle’s stations on the Licking, Bryan’s on the south bank of the Elkhorn was left as the northernmost outpost of the settlers.  Its stout, loopholed palisades enclosed some forty cabins, there were strong block-houses at the corners, and it was garrisoned by fifty good riflemen.

These five stations were held by backwoodsmen of the usual Kentucky stamp, from the up-country of Pennsylvania, Virginia, and North Carolina.  Generations of frontier life had made them with their fellows the most distinctive and typical Americans on the continent, utterly different from their old-world kinsfolk.  Yet they still showed strong traces of the covenanting spirit, which they drew from the Irish-Presbyterian, the master strain in their mixed blood.  For years they had not seen the inside of a church; nevertheless, mingled with men who were loose of tongue and life, there still remained many Sabbath-keepers and Bible-readers, who studied their catechisms on Sundays, and disliked almost equally profane language and debauchery.

    Patterson and Reynolds.

An incident that occurred at this time illustrates well their feelings.  In June a fourth of the active militia of the county was ordered on duty, to scout and patrol the country.  Accordingly forty men turned out under Captain Robert Patterson.  They were given ammunition, as well as two pack-horses, by the Commissary Department.  Every man was entitled to pay for the time he was out.  Whether he would ever get it was problematical; at the best it was certain to be given him in worthless paper-money.  Their hunters kept them supplied with game, and each man carried a small quantity of parched corn.

The company was ordered to the mouth of the Kentucky to meet the armed row-boat, sent by Clark from the Falls.  On the way Patterson was much annoyed by a “very profane, swearing man” from Bryan’s Station, named Aaron Reynolds.  Reynolds was a good-hearted, active young fellow, with a biting tongue, not only given to many oaths, but likewise skilled in the rough, coarse banter so popular with the backwoodsmen.  After having borne with him four days Patterson made up his mind that he would have to reprove him, and, if no amendment took place, send him home.  He waited until, at a halt, Reynolds got a crowd round him, and began to entertain them “with oaths and wicked expressions,” whereupon he promptly stepped in “and observed to him that he was a very wicked and profane man,” and that both the company as well as he, the Captain, would thank him to desist.  On the next day, however, Reynolds began to swear again; this time Patterson not only reproved him severely, but also tried the effect of judicious gentleness, promising to give him a quart of spirits on reaching the boat if he immediately “quit his profanity and swearing.”  Four days afterwards they reached the boat, and Aaron Reynolds demanded the quart of spirits.  Patterson suggested a doubt as to whether he had kept his promise, whereupon he appealed to the company, then on parade, and they pronounced in his favor, saying that they had not heard him swear since he was reproved.  Patterson, who himself records the incident, concludes with the remark:  “The spirits were drank.” Evidently the company, who had so impartially acted as judges between their fellow-soldier and their superior officer, viewed with the same equanimity the zeal of the latter and the mixed system of command, entreaty, and reward by which he carried his point.  As will be seen, the event had a striking sequel at the battle of the Blue Licks.

Throughout June and July the gunboat patrolled the Ohio, going up to the Licking.  Parties of backwoods riflemen, embodied as militia, likewise patrolled the woods, always keeping their scouts and spies well spread out, and exercising the greatest care to avoid being surprised.  They greatly hampered the Indian war bands, but now and then the latter slipped by and fell on the people they protected.  Early in August such a band committed some ravages south of the Kentucky, beating back with loss a few militia who followed it.  Some of the Fayette men were about setting forth to try and cut off its retreat, when the sudden and unlooked-for approach of Caldwell and McKee’s great war party obliged them to bend all their energies to their own defence.

The blow fell on Bryan’s Station.  The rangers and warriors moved down through the forest with the utmost speed and stealth, hoping to take this, the northernmost of the stockades, by surprise.  If they had succeeded, Lexington and the three smaller stations north of the Kentucky would probably likewise have fallen.

    The Attack on Bryan’s Station.

The attack was made early on the morning of the 16th of August.  Some of the settlers were in the corn-fields, and the rest inside the palisade of standing logs; they were preparing to follow the band of marauders who had gone south of the Kentucky.  A few outlying Indian spies were discovered, owing to their eagerness; and the whites being put on their guard, the attempt to carry the fort by the first rush was, of course, foiled.  Like so many other stations ­but unlike Lexington, ­Bryan’s had no spring within its walls; and as soon as there was reason to dread an attack, it became a matter of vital importance to lay in a supply of water.  It was feared that to send the men to the spring would arouse suspicion in the minds of the hiding savages; and, accordingly, the women went down with their pails and buckets as usual.  The younger girls showed some nervousness, but the old housewives marshalled them as coolly as possible, talking and laughing together, and by their unconcern completely deceived the few Indians who were lurking near by ­for the main body had not yet come up. This advance guard of the savages feared that, if they attacked the women, all chance of surprising the fort would be lost; and so the water-carriers were suffered to go back unharmed. [Footnote:  This account rests on tradition; it is recorded by McClung, a most untrustworthy writer; his account of the battle of the Blue Licks is wrong from beginning to end.  But a number of gentlemen in Kentucky have informed me that old pioneers whom they knew in their youth had told them that they had themselves seen the incident, and that, as written down, it was substantially true.  So with Reynold’s speech to Girty.  Of course, his exact words, as given by McClung, are incorrect; but Mr. L. C. Draper informs me that, in his youth, he knew several old men who had been in Bryan’s Station, and had themselves heard the speech.  If it were not for this I should reject it, for the British accounts do not even mention that Girty was along, and do not hint at the incident.  It was probably an unauthorized ruse of Girty’s.  The account of the decoy party of Indians is partially confirmed by the British letters.  Both Marshall and McClung get this siege and battle very much twisted in their narratives; they make so many mistakes that it is difficult to know what portion of their accounts to accept.  Nevertheless it would be a great mistake to neglect all, even of McClung’s statements.  Thus Boon and Levi Todd in their reports make no mention of McGarry’s conduct; and it might be supposed to be a traditional myth, but McClung’s account is unexpectedly corroborated by Arthur Campbell’s letter, hereafter to be quoted, which was written at the time.

Marshall is the authority for Netherland’s feat at the ford.  Boon’s description in the Filson narrative differs on several points from his earlier official letter, one or two grave errors being made; it is one of the incidents which shows how cautiously the Filson sketch must be used, though it is usually accepted as unquestionable authority.] Hardly were they within the fort, however, when some of the Indians found that they had been discovered, and the attack began so quickly that one or two of the men who had lingered in the corn-fields were killed, or else were cut off and fled to Lexington, while, at the same time, swift-footed runners were sent out to carry the alarm to the different stockades, and summon their riflemen to the rescue.

At first but a few Indians appeared, on the side of the Lexington road; they whooped and danced defiance to the fort, evidently inviting an attack.  Their purpose was to lure the defenders into sallying out after them, when their main body was to rush at the stockade from the other side.  But they did not succeed in deceiving the veteran Indian fighters who manned the heavy gates of the fort, stood behind the loopholed walls, or scanned the country round about from the high block-houses at the corners.  A dozen active young men were sent out on the Lexington road to carry on a mock skirmish with the decoy party, while the rest of the defenders gathered behind the wall on the opposite side.  As soon as a noisy but harmless skirmish had been begun by the sallying party, the main body of warriors burst out of the woods and rushed towards the western gate.  A single volley from the loopholes drove them back, while the sallying party returned at a run and entered the Lexington gate unharmed, laughing at the success of their counter-stratagem.

The Indians surrounded the fort, each crawling up as close as he could find shelter behind some stump, tree, or fence.  An irregular fire began, the whites, who were better covered, having slightly the advantage, but neither side suffering much.  This lasted for several hours, until early in the afternoon a party from Lexington suddenly appeared and tried to force its way into the fort.

The runners who slipped out of the fort at the first alarm went straight to Lexington.  There they found that the men had just started out to cut off the retreat of the marauding savages who were ravaging south of the Kentucky.  Following their trail they speedily overtook the troops, and told of the attack on Bryan’s.  Instantly forty men under Major Levi Todd countermarched to the rescue.  Being ignorant of the strength of the Indians they did not wait for the others, but pushed boldly forward, seventeen being mounted and the others on foot.

The road from Lexington to Bryan’s for the last few hundred yards led beside a field of growing corn taller than a man.  Some of the Indians were lying in this field when they were surprised by the sudden appearance of the rescuers, and promptly fired on them.  Levi Todd and the horsemen, who were marching in advance, struck spurs into their steeds, and galloping hard through the dust and smoke reached the fort in safety.  The footmen were quickly forced to retreat towards Lexington; but the Indians were too surprised by the unlooked-for approach to follow, and they escaped with the loss of one man killed and three wounded.

That night the Indians tried to burn the fort, shooting flaming arrows onto the roofs of the cabins and rushing up to the wooden wall with lighted torches.  But they were beaten off at each attempt.  When day broke they realized that it was hopeless to make any further effort, though they still kept up a desultory fire on the fort’s defenders; they had killed most of the cattle and pigs, and some of the horses, and had driven away the rest.

Girty, who was among the assailants, as a last shift, tried to get the garrison to surrender, assuring them that the Indians were hourly expecting reinforcements, including the artillery brought against Ruddle’s and Martin’s stations two years previously; and that if forced to batter down the walls no quarter would be given to any one.  Among the fort’s defenders was young Aaron Reynolds, the man whose profanity had formerly roused Captain Patterson’s ire; and he now undertook to be spokesman for the rest.  Springing up into sight he answered Girty in the tone of rough banter so dear to the backwoodsmen, telling the renegade that he knew him well, and despised him, that the men in the fort feared neither cannon nor reinforcements, and if need be, could drive Girty’s tawny followers back from the walls with switches; and he ended by assuring him that the whites, too, were expecting help, for the country was roused, and if the renegade and his followers dared to linger where they were for another twenty-four hours, their scalps would surely be sun-dried on the roofs of the cabins.

The Indians knew well that the riflemen were mustering at all the neighboring forts; and, as soon as their effort to treat failed, they withdrew during the forenoon of the 17th. [Footnote:  There are four contemporary official reports of this battle:  two American, those of Boon and Levi Todd; and two British, those of McKee and Caldwell.  All four agree that the fort was attacked on one day, the siege abandoned on the next, pursuit made on the third, and the battle fought on the fourth.  Boon and Todd make the siege begin on August 16th, and the battle take place on the 19th; Caldwell makes the dates the 15th and 18th; McKee makes them the 18th and 21st.  I therefore take Boon’s and Todd’s dates.

McClung and Marshall make the siege last three or four days instead of less than two.

All the accounts of the battle of the Blue Licks, so far, have been very inaccurate, because the British reports have never been even known to exist, and the reports of the American commanders, printed in the Virginia State papers, have but recently seen the light.  Mr. Whitsitt, in his recent excellent “Life of Judge Wallace,” uses the latter, but makes the great mistake of incorporating into his narrative some of the most glaring errors of McClung and Marshall.] They were angry and sullen at their discomfiture.  Five of their number had been killed and several wounded.  Of the fort’s defenders four had been killed and three wounded.  Among the children within its walls during the siege there was one, the youngest, a Kentucky-born baby, named Richard Johnson; over thirty years later he led the Kentucky mounted riflemen at the victory of the Thames, when they killed not only the great Indian chief Tecumseh, but also, it is said, the implacable renegade Simon Girty himself, then in extreme old age.

    Battle Of the Blue Licks.

All this time the runners sent out from Bryan’s had been speeding through the woods, summoning help from each of the little walled towns.  The Fayette troops quickly gathered.  As soon as Boon heard the news he marched at the head of the men of his station, among them his youngest son Israel, destined shortly to be slain before his eyes.  The men from Lexington, McConnell’s, and McGee’s, rallied under John Todd, who was County Lieutenant, and, by virtue of his commission in the Virginia line, the ranking officer of Kentucky, second only to Clark.  Troops also came from south of the Kentucky River; Lieutenant-Colonel Trigg and Majors McGarry and Harlan led the men from Harrodsburg, who were soonest ready to march, and likewise brought the news that Logan, their County Lieutenant, was raising the whole force of Lincoln in hot haste, and would follow in a couple of days.

These bands of rescuers reached Bryan’s Station on the afternoon of the day the Indians had left.  The men thus gathered were the very pick of the Kentucky pioneers; sinewy veterans of border strife, skilled hunters and woodsmen, long wonted to every kind of hardship and danger.  They were men of the most dauntless courage, but unruly and impatient of all control.  Only a few of the cooler heads were willing to look before they leaped; and even their chosen and trusted leaders were forced to advise and exhort rather than to command them.  All were eager for battle and vengeance, and were excited and elated by the repulse that had just been inflicted on the savages; and they feared to wait for Logan lest the foe should escape.  Next morning they rode out in pursuit, one hundred and eighty-two strong, all on horseback, and all carrying long rifles.  There was but one sword among them, which Todd had borrowed from Boon ­a rough weapon, with short steel blade and buckhorn hilt.  As with most frontier levies, the officers were in large proportion; for, owing to the system of armed settlement and half-military organization, each wooden fort, each little group of hunters or hard-fighting backwoods farmers, was forced to have its own captain, lieutenant, ensign, and sergeant.

The Indians, in their unhurried retreat, followed the great buffalo trace that led to the Blue Licks, a broad road, beaten out through the forest by the passing and repassing of the mighty herds through countless generations.  They camped on the farther side of the river; some of the savages had left, but there were still nearly three hundred men in all ­Hurons and lake Indians, with the small party of rangers. [Footnote:  Caldwell says that he had at first “three hundred Indians and Rangers,” but that before the battle “nigh 100 Indians left.”  McKee says that there were at first “upwards of three hundred Hurons and Lake Indians,” besides the rangers and a very few Mingos, Delawares, and Shawnees.  Later he says of the battle:  “We were not much superior to them in numbers, they being about two hundred.”

Levi Todd put the number of the Indians at three hundred, which was pretty near the truth; Boon thought it four hundred; later writers exaggerate wildly, putting it even at one thousand.]

The backwoods horsemen rode swiftly on the trail of their foes, and before evening came to where they had camped the night before.  A careful examination of the camp-fires convinced the leaders that they were heavily outnumbered; nevertheless they continued the pursuit, and overtook the savages early the following morning, the 19th of August.

As they reached the Blue Licks, they saw a few Indians retreating up a rocky ridge that led from the north bank of the river.  The backwoodsmen halted on the south bank, and a short council was held.  All turned naturally to Boon, the most experienced Indian fighter present, in whose cool courage and tranquil self-possession all confided.  The wary old pioneer strongly urged that no attack be made at the moment, but that they should await the troops coming up under Logan.  The Indians were certainly much superior in numbers to the whites; they were aware that they were being followed by a small force, and from the confident, leisurely way in which they had managed their retreat, were undoubtedly anxious to be overtaken and attacked.  The hurried pursuit had been quite proper in the first place, for if the Indians had fled rapidly they would surely have broken up into different bands, which could have been attacked on even terms, while delay would have permitted them to go off unscathed.  But, as it was, the attack would be very dangerous; while the delay of waiting for Logan would be a small matter, for the Indians could still be overtaken after he had arrived.

Well would it have been for the frontiersmen had they followed Boon’s advice. Todd and Trigg both agreed with him, and so did many of the cooler riflemen ­among others a man named Netherland, whose caution caused the young hotheads to jeer at him as a coward.  But the decision was not suffered to rest with the three colonels who nominally commanded.  Doubtless the council was hasty and tumultuous, being held by the officers in the open, closely pressed upon, and surrounded by a throng of eager, unruly soldiers, who did not hesitate to offer advice or express dissatisfaction.  Many of the more headlong and impatient among the bold spirits looking on desired instant action; and these found a sudden leader in Major Hugh McGarry.  He was a man utterly unsuited to command of any kind; and his retention in office after repeated acts of violence and insubordination shows the inherent weakness of the frontier militia system.  He not only chafed at control, but he absolutely refused to submit to it; and his courage was of a kind better fitted to lead him into a fight than to make him bear himself well after it was begun.  He wished no delay, and was greatly angered at the decision of the council; nor did he hesitate to at once appeal therefrom.  Turning to the crowd of backwoodsmen he suddenly raised the thrilling war-cry, and spurred his horse into the stream, waving his hat over his head and calling on all who were not cowards to follow him.  The effect was electrical.  In an instant all the hunter-soldiers plunged in after him with a shout, and splashed across the ford of the shallow river in huddled confusion.

Boon and Todd had nothing to do but follow.  On the other side they got the men into order, and led them on, the only thing that was possible under the circumstances.  These two leaders acted excellently throughout; and they now did their best to bring the men with honor through the disaster into which they had been plunged by their own headstrong folly.

As the Indians were immediately ahead, the array of battle was at once formed.  The troops spread out into a single line.  The right was led by Trigg, the centre by Colonel-Commandant Todd in person, with McGarry under him, and an advance guard of twenty-five men under Harlan in front; while the left was under Boon.  The ground was equally favorable to both parties, the timber being open and good. But the Indians had the advantage in numbers, and were able to outflank the whites.

In a minute the spies brought word that the enemy were close in front. The Kentuckians galloped up at speed to within sixty yards of their foes, leaped from their horses, and instantly gave and received a heavy fire. Boon was the first to open the combat; and under his command the left wing pushed the Indians opposite them back for a hundred yards.  The old hunter of course led in person; his men stoutly backed him up, and their resolute bearing and skilful marksmanship gave to the whites in this part of the line a momentary victory.

But on the right of the Kentucky advance, affairs went badly from the start.  The Indians were thrown out so as to completely surround Triggs’ wing.  Almost as soon as the firing became heavy in front, crowds of painted warriors rose from some hollows of long grass that lay on Trigg’s right and poured in a close and deadly volley.  Rushing forward, they took his men in rear and flank, and rolled them up on the centre, killing Trigg himself.  Harlan’s advance guard was cut down almost to a man, their commander being among the slain.  The centre was then assailed from both sides by overwhelming numbers.  Todd did all he could by voice and example to keep his men firm, and cover Boon’s successful advance, but in vain.  Riding to and fro on his white horse, he was shot through the body, and mortally wounded.  He leaped on his horse again, but his strength failed him; the blood gushed from his mouth; he leaned forward, and fell heavily from the saddle.  Some say that his horse carried him to the river, and that he fell into its current.  With his death the centre gave way; and of course Boon and the men of the left wing, thrust in advance, were surrounded on three sides.  A wild rout followed, every one pushing in headlong haste for the ford.  “He that could remount a horse was well off; he that could not, had no time for delay,” wrote Levi Todd.  The actual fighting had only occupied five minutes.

In a mad and panic race the Kentuckians reached the ford, which was fortunately but a few hundred yards from the battle-field, the Indians being mixed in with them.  Among the first to cross was Netherland, whose cautious advice had been laughed at before the battle.  No sooner had he reached the south bank, than he reined up his horse and leaped off, calling on his comrades to stop and cover the flight of the others; and most of them obeyed him.  The ford was choked with a struggling mass of horsemen and footmen, fleeing whites and following Indians.  Netherland and his companions opened a brisk fire upon the latter, forcing them to withdraw for a moment and let the remainder of the fugitives cross in safety.  Then the flight began again.  The check that had been given the Indians allowed the whites time to recover heart and breath.  Retreating in groups or singly through the forest, with their weapons reloaded, their speed of foot and woodcraft enabled such as had crossed the river to escape without further serious loss.

Boon was among the last to leave the field.  His son Israel was slain, and he himself was cut off from the river; but turning abruptly to one side, he broke through the ranks of the pursuers, outran them, swam the river, and returned unharmed to Bryan’s Station.

Among the men in the battle were Capt.  Robert Patterson and young Aaron Reynolds.  When the retreat began Patterson could not get a horse.  He was suffering from some old and unhealed wounds received in a former Indian fight, and he speedily became exhausted.  As he was on the point of sinking, Reynolds suddenly rode up beside him, jumped off his horse, and without asking Patterson whether he would accept, bade him mount the horse and flee.  Patterson did so, and was the last man over the ford.  He escaped unhurt, though the Indians were running alongside and firing at him.  Meanwhile Reynolds, who possessed extraordinary activity, reached the river in safety and swam across.  He then sat down to take off his buckskin trowsers, which, being soaked through, hampered him much; and two Indians suddenly pounced on and captured him.  He was disarmed and left in charge of one.  Watching his chance, he knocked the savage down, and running off into the woods escaped with safety.  When Patterson thanked him for saving his life, and asked him why he had done it, he answered, that ever since Patterson had reproved him for swearing, he had felt a strong and continued attachment for him.  The effect of the reproof, combined with his narrow escape, changed him completely, and he became a devout member of the Baptist Church.  Patterson, to show the gratitude he felt, gave him a horse and saddle, and a hundred acres of prime land, the first he had ever owned.

The loss of the defeated Kentuckians had been very great.  Seventy were killed outright, including Colonel Todd and Lieutenant-Colonel Trigg, the first and third in command.  Seven were captured, and twelve of those who escaped were badly wounded. The victors lost one of the Detroit rangers (a Frenchman), and six Indians killed and ten Indians wounded. Almost their whole loss was caused by the successful advance of Boon’s troops, save what was due to Netherland when he rallied the flying backwoodsmen at the ford.

Of the seven white captives four were put to death with torture; three eventually rejoined their people.  One of them owed his being spared to a singular and amusing feat of strength and daring.  When forced to run the gauntlet he, by his activity, actually succeeded in reaching the council-house unharmed; when almost to it, he turned, seized a powerful Indian and hurled him violently to the ground, and then, thrusting his head between the legs of another pursuer, he tossed him clean over his back, after which he sprang on a log, leaped up and knocked his heels together, crowed in the fashion of backwoods victors, and rallied the Indians as a pack of cowards.  One of the old chiefs immediately adopted him into the tribe as his son.

All the little forted villages north of the Kentucky, and those lying near its southern bank, were plunged into woe and mourning by the defeat. In every stockade, in almost every cabin, there was weeping for husband or father, son, brother, or lover.  The best and bravest blood in the land had been shed like water.  There was no one who had not lost some close and dear friend, and the heads of all the people were bowed and their hearts sore stricken.

The bodies of the dead lay where they had fallen, on the hill-slope, and in the shallow river; torn by wolf, vulture, and raven, or eaten by fishes.  In a day or two Logan came up with four hundred men from south of the Kentucky, tall Simon Kenton marching at the head of the troops, as captain of a company. They buried the bodies of the slain on the battle-field, in long trenches, and heaped over them stones and logs.  Meanwhile the victorious Indians, glutted with vengeance, recrossed the Ohio and vanished into the northern forests.

The Indian ravages continued throughout the early fall months; all the outlying cabins were destroyed, the settlers were harried from the clearings, and a station on Salt River was taken by surprise, thirty-seven people being captured.  Stunned by the crushing disaster at the Blue Licks, and utterly disheartened and cast down by the continued ravages, many of the settlers threatened to leave the country.  The county officers sent long petitions to the Virginia Legislature, complaining that the troops posted at the Falls were of no assistance in checking the raids of the Indians, and asserting that the operations carried on by order of the Executive for the past eighteen months had been a detriment rather than a help.  The utmost confusion and discouragement prevailed everywhere. [Footnote:  Va.  State Papers, III., pp. 301, 331.  Letter of William Christian, September 28th.  Petition of Boon, Todd, Netherland, etc., September 11th.  In Morehead’s “address” is a letter from Nathaniel Hart.  He was himself as a boy, witness of what he describes.  His father, who had been Henderson’s partner and bore the same name as himself, was from North Carolina.  He founded in Kentucky a station known as White Oak Springs; and was slain by the savages during this year.  The letter runs:  “It is impossible at this day to make a just impression of the sufferings of the pioneers about the period spoken of.  The White Oak Springs fort in 1782, with perhaps one hundred souls in it was reduced in August to three fighting white men ­and I can say with truth that for two or three weeks my mother’s family never unclothed themselves to sleep, nor were all of them within that time at their meals together, nor was any household business attempted.  Food was prepared and placed where those who chose could eat.  It was the period when Bryant’s station was beseiged, and for many days before and after that gloomy event we were in constant expectation of being made prisoners.  We made application to Col.  Logan for a guard and obtained one, but not until the danger was measureably over.  It then consisted of two men only.  Col.  Logan did every thing in his power, as County Lieutenant, to sustain the different forts ­but it was not a very easy matter to order a married man from a fort where his family was to defend some other when his own was in imminent danger.

“I went with my mother in January, 1783, to Logan’s station to prove my father’s will.  He had fallen in the preceding July.  Twenty armed men were of the party.  Twenty-three widows were in attendance upon the court to obtain letters of administration on the estates of their husbands who had been killed during the past year.”

The letter also mentions that most of the original settlers of the fort were from Pennsylvania, “orderly respectable people and the men good soldiers.  But they were unaccustomed to Indian warfare, and the consequence was that of some ten or twelve men all were killed but two or three.”  This incident illustrates the folly of the hope, at one time entertained, that the Continental troops, by settling in the west on lands granted them, would prove a good barrier against the Indians; the best Continentals in Washington’s army would have been almost as helpless as British grenadiers in the woods.]

    Clark’s Counter-Stroke.

At last the news of repeated disaster roused Clark into his old-time energy.  He sent out runners through the settlements, summoning all the able-bodied men to make ready for a blow at the Indians.  The pioneers turned with eager relief towards the man who had so often led them to success.  They answered his call with quick enthusiasm; beeves, pack-horses, and supplies were offered in abundance, and every man who could shoot and ride marched to the appointed meeting-places.  The men from the eastern stations gathered at Bryan’s, under Logan; those from the western, at the Falls, under Floyd.  The two divisions met at the mouth of the Licking, where Clark took supreme command.  On the 4th of November, he left the banks of the Ohio and struck off northward through the forest, at the head of one thousand and fifty mounted riflemen.  On the 10th he attacked the Miami towns.  His approach was discovered just in time to prevent a surprise.  The Indians hurriedly fled to the woods, those first discovered raising the alarm-cry, which could be heard an incredible distance, and thus warning their fellows.  In consequence no fight followed, though there was sharp skirmishing between the advance guard and the hindermost Indians.  Ten scalps were taken and seven prisoners, besides two whites being recaptured.  Of Clark’s men, one was killed and one wounded.  The flight of the Indians was too hasty to permit them to save any of their belongings.  All the cabins were burned, together with an immense quantity of corn and provisions ­a severe loss at the opening of winter.  McKee, the Detroit partisan, attempted to come to the rescue with what Indians he could gather, but was met and his force promptly scattered. Logan led a detachment to the head of the Miami, and burned the stores of the British traders.  The loss to the savages at the beginning of cold weather was very great; they were utterly cast down and panic-stricken at such a proof of the power of the whites, coming as it did so soon after the battle of the Blue Licks.  The expedition returned in triumph, and the Kentuckians completely regained their self-confidence; and though for ten years longer Kentucky suffered from the inroads of small parties of savages, it was never again threatened by a serious invasion.

    Wonderful Growth of Kentucky.

At the beginning of 1783, when the news of peace was spread abroad, immigration began to flow to Kentucky down the Ohio, and over the Wilderness road, in a flood of which the volume dwarfed all former streams into rivulets.  Indian hostilities continued at intervals throughout this year, but they were not of a serious nature.  Most of the tribes concluded at least a nominal peace, and liberated over two hundred white prisoners, though they retained nearly as many more. Nevertheless in the spring one man of note fell victim to the savages, for John Floyd was waylaid and slain as he was riding out with his brother.  Thus within the space of eight months, two of the three county lieutenants had been killed, in battle or ambush.

The inrush of new settlers was enormous, and Kentucky fairly entered on its second stage of growth.  The days of the first game hunters and Indian fighters were over.  By this year the herds of the buffalo, of which the flesh and hides had been so important to the earlier pioneers, were nearly exterminated; though bands still lingered in the remote recesses of the mountains, and they were plentiful in Illinois.  The land claims began to clash, and interminable litigation followed.  This rendered very important the improvement in the judiciary system which was begun in March by the erection of the three counties into the “District of Kentucky,” with a court of common law and chancery jurisdiction coextensive with its limits.  The name of Kentucky, which had been dropped when the original county was divided into three, was thus permanently revived.  The first court sat at Harrodsburg, but as there was no building where it could properly be held, it adjourned to the Dutch Reformed Meeting-house six miles off.  The first grand jury empanelled presented nine persons for selling liquor without license, eight for adultery and fornication, and the clerk of Lincoln County for not keeping a table of fees; besides several for smaller offences. A log court-house and a log jail were immediately built.

Manufactories of salt were started at the licks, where it was sold at from three to five silver dollars a bushel. This was not only used by the settlers for themselves, but for their stock, which ranged freely in the woods; to provide for the latter a tree was chopped down and the salt placed in notches or small troughs cut in the trunk, making it what was called a lick-log.  Large grist-mills were erected at some of the stations; wheat crops were raised; and small distilleries were built.  The gigantic system of river commerce of the Mississippi had been begun the preceding year by one Jacob Yoder, who loaded a flat-boat at the Old Redstone Fort, on the Monongahela, and drifted down to New Orleans, where he sold his goods, and returned to the Falls of the Ohio by a roundabout course leading through Havana, Philadelphia, and Pittsburg.  Several regular schools were started.  There were already meeting-houses of the Baptist and Dutch Reformed congregations, the preachers spending the week-days in clearing and tilling the fields, splitting rails, and raising hogs; in 1783 a permanent Presbyterian minister arrived, and a log church was speedily built for him.  The sport-loving Kentuckians this year laid out a race track at Shallowford Station.  It was a straight quarter of a mile course, within two hundred yards of the stockade; at its farther end was a canebrake, wherein an Indian once lay hid and shot a rider, who was pulling up his horse at the close of a race.  There was still but one ferry, that over the Kentucky River at Boonsborough; the price of ferriage was three shillings for either man or horse.  The surveying was still chiefly done by hunters, and much of it was in consequence very loose indeed.

The first retail store Kentucky had seen since Henderson’s, at Boonsborough, was closed in 1775, was established this year at the Falls; the goods were brought in wagons from Philadelphia to Pittsburg, and thence down the Ohio in flat-boats.  The game had been all killed off in the immediate neighborhood of the town at the Falls, and Clark undertook to supply the inhabitants with meat, as a commercial speculation.  Accordingly he made a contract with John Saunders, the hunter who had guided him on his march to the Illinois towns; the latter had presumably forgiven his chief for having threatened him with death when he lost the way.  Clark was to furnish Saunders with three men, a packhorse, salt, and ammunition; while Saunders agreed to do his best and be “assiduously industrious” in hunting.  Buffalo beef, bear’s meat, deer hams, and bear oil were the commodities most sought after.  The meat was to be properly cured and salted in camp, and sent from time to time to the Falls, where Clark was to dispose of it in market, a third of the price going to Saunders.  The hunting season was to last from November 1st to January 15th.

Thus the settlers could no longer always kill their own game; and there were churches, schools, mills, stores, race tracks, and markets in Kentucky.