Organization of the Holston Settlements.

The history of Kentucky and the Northwest has now been traced from the date of the Cherokee war to the close of the Revolution.  Those portions of the southwestern lands that were afterwards made into the State of Tennessee, had meanwhile developed with almost equal rapidity.  Both Kentucky and Tennessee grew into existence and power at the same time, and were originally settled and built up by precisely the same class of American backwoodsmen.  But there were one or two points of difference in their methods of growth.  Kentucky sprang up afar off in the wilderness, and as a separate entity from the beginning.  The present State has grown steadily from a single centre, which was the part first settled; and the popular name of the commonwealth has always been Kentucky.  Tennessee, on the other hand, did not assume her present name until a quarter of a century after the first exploration and settlement had begun; and the State grew from two entirely distinct centres.  The first settlements, known as the Watauga, or afterwards more generally as the Holston, settlements, grew up while keeping close touch with the Virginians, who lived round the Tennessee head-waters, and also in direct communication with North Carolina, to which State they belonged.  It was not until 1779 that a portion of these Holston people moved to the bend of the Cumberland River and started a new community, exactly as Kentucky had been started before.  At first this new community, known as the Cumberland settlement, was connected by only the loosest tie with the Holston settlements.  The people of the two places were not grouped together; they did not even have a common name.  The three clusters of Holston, Cumberland, and Kentucky settlements developed independently of one another, and though their founders were in each case of the same kind, they were at first only knit one to another by a lax bond of comradeship.

In 1776 the Watauga pioneers probably numbered some six hundred souls in all.  Having at last found out the State in which they lived, they petitioned North Carolina to be annexed thereto as a district or county.  The older settlements had evidently been jealous of them, for they found it necessary to deny that they were, as had been asserted, “a lawless mob”; it may be remarked that the Transylvanian colonists had been obliged to come out with a similar statement.  In their petition they christened their country “Washington District,” in honor of the great chief whose name already stood first in the hearts of all Americans.  The document was written by Sevier.  It set forth the history of the settlers, their land purchases from the Indians, their successful effort at self-government, their military organization, with Robertson as captain, and finally their devotion to the Revolutionary cause; and recited their lack of proper authority to deal promptly with felons, murderers, and the like, who came in from the neighboring States, as the reason why they wished to become a self-governing portion of North Carolina. The legislature of the State granted the prayer of the petitioners, Washington District was annexed, and four representatives therefrom, one of them Sevier, took their seats that fall in the Provincial Congress at Halifax.  But no change whatever was made in the government of the Watauga people until 1777.  In the spring of that year laws were passed providing for the establishment of courts of pleas and quarter sessions in the district, as well as for the appointment of justices of the peace, sheriffs, and militia officers; and in the fall the district was made a county, under the same name.  The boundaries of Washington County were the same as those of the present State of Tennessee, and seem to have been outlined by Sevier, the only man who at that time had a clear idea as to what should be the logical and definite limits of the future State.

    Upholding the Law.

The nominal change of government worked little real alteration in the way the Holston people managed their affairs.  The members of the old committee became the justices of the new court, and, with a slight difference in forms, proceeded against all offenders with their former vigor.  Being eminently practical men, and not learned in legal technicalities, their decisions seem to have been governed mainly by their own ideas of justice, which, though genuine, were rough.  As the war progressed and the southern States fell into the hands of the British, the disorderly men who had streamed across the mountains became openly defiant towards the law.  The tories gathered in bands, and every man who was impatient of legal restraint, every murderer, horse-thief, and highway robber in the community flocked to join them.  The militia who hunted them down soon ceased to discriminate between tories and other criminals, and the courts rendered decisions to the same effect.  The caption of one indictment that has been preserved reads against the defendant “in toryism.”  He was condemned to imprisonment during the war, half his goods was confiscated to the use of the State, and the other half was turned over for the support of his family.  In another case the court granted a still more remarkable order, upon the motion of the State attorney, which set forth that fifteen hundred pounds, due to a certain H., should be retained in the hands of the debtor, because “there is sufficient reason to believe that the said H’s estate will be confiscated to the use of the State for his misdemeanours.”

There is something refreshing in the solemnity with which these decisions are recorded, and the evident lack of perception on the part of the judges that their records would, to their grandchildren, have a distinctly humorous side.  To tories, and evil-doers generally, the humor was doubtless very grim; but as a matter of fact, the decisions, though certainly of unusual character, were needful and just.  The friends of order had to do their work with rough weapons, and they used them most efficiently.  Under the stress of so dire an emergency as that they confronted they were quite right in attending only to the spirit of law and justice, and refusing to be hampered by the letter.  They would have discredited their own energy and hard common-sense had they acted otherwise, and, moreover, would have inevitably failed to accomplish their purpose.

In the summer of ’78, when Indian hostilities almost entirely ceased, most of the militia were disbanded, and, in consequence, the parties of tories and horse-thieves sprang into renewed strength, and threatened to overawe the courts and government officers.  Immediately the leaders among the whigs, the friends of order and liberty, gathered together and organized a vigilance committee.  The committee raised two companies of mounted riflemen, who were to patrol the country and put to death all suspicious characters who resisted them or who refused to give security to appear before the committee in December.  The proceedings of the committee were thus perfectly open; the members had no idea of acting secretly or against order.  It was merely that in a time of general confusion they consolidated themselves into a body which was a most effective, though irregular, supporter of the cause of law.  The mounted riflemen scoured the country and broke up the gangs of evil-doers, hanging six or seven of the leaders, while a number of the less prominent were brought before the committee, who fined some and condemned others to be whipped or branded.  All of doubtful loyalty were compelled to take the test oath.

Such drastic measures soon brought about peace; but it was broken again and again by similar risings and disturbances.  By degrees most of the worst characters fled to the Cherokees, or joined the British as their forces approached the up-country.  Until the battle of Kings Mountain, the pioneers had to watch the tories as closely as they did the Indians; there was a constant succession of murders, thefts, and savage retaliations.  Once a number of tories attempted to surprise and murder Sevier in his own house; but the plot was revealed by the wife of the leader, to whom Sevier’s wife had shown great kindness in her time of trouble.  In consequence the tories were themselves surprised and their ringleaders slain.  Every man in the country was obliged to bear arms the whole time, not only because of the Indian warfare, but also on account of the inveterate hatred and constant collisions between the whigs and the loyalists.  Many dark deeds were done, and though the tories, with whom the criminal classes were in close alliance, were generally the first and chief offenders, yet the patriots cannot be held guiltless of murderous and ferocious reprisals.  They often completely failed to distinguish between the offenders against civil order, and those whose only crime was an honest, if mistaken, devotion to the cause of the king.

    Land laws

Early in ’78 a land office was opened in the Holston settlements, and the settlers were required to make entries according to the North Carolina land laws.  Hitherto they had lived on their clearings undisturbed, resting their title upon purchase from the Indians and upon their own mutual agreements.  The old settlers were given the prior right to the locations, and until the beginning of ’79 in which to pay for them.  Each head of a family was allowed to take up six hundred and forty acres for himself, one hundred for his wife, and one hundred for each of his children, at the price of forty shillings per hundred acres, while any additional amount cost at the rate of one hundred shillings, instead of forty.  All of the men of the Holston settlements were at the time in the service of the State as militia, in the campaign against the Indians; and when the land office was opened, the money that was due them sufficed to pay for their claims.  They thus had no difficulty in keeping possession of their lands, much to the disappointment of the land speculators, many of whom had come out at the opening of the office.  Afterwards large tracts were given as bounty, or in lieu of pay, to the Revolutionary soldiers.  All the struggling colonies used their wild land as a sort of military chest; it was often the only security of value in their possession.

The same year that the land office was opened, it was enacted that the bridle path across the mountains should be chopped out and made into a rough wagon road. The following spring the successful expedition against the Chicamaugas temporarily put a stop to Indian troubles.  The growing security, the opening of the land office, and the increase of knowledge concerning the country, produced a great inflow of settlers in 1779, and from that time onward the volume of immigration steadily increased.

    Character and Life of the Settlers.

Many of these new-comers were “poor whites,” or crackers; lank, sallow, ragged creatures, living in poverty, ignorance, and dirt, who regarded all strangers with suspicion as “outlandish folks.” With every chance to rise, these people remained mere squalid cumberers of the earth’s surface, a rank, up-country growth, containing within itself the seeds of vicious, idle pauperism, and semi-criminality.  They clustered in little groups, scattered throughout the backwoods settlements, in strong contrast to the vigorous and manly people around them.

By far the largest number of the new-comers were of the true, hardy backwoods stock, fitted to grapple with the wilderness and to hew out of it a prosperous commonwealth.  The leading settlers began, by thrift and industry, to acquire what in the backwoods passed for wealth.  Their horses, cattle, and hogs throve and multiplied.  The stumps were grubbed out of the clearings, and different kinds of grains and roots were planted.  Wings were added to the houses, and sometimes they were roofed with shingles.  The little town of Jonesboro, the first that was not a mere stockaded fort, was laid off midway between the Watauga and the Nolichucky.

As soon as the region grew at all well settled, clergymen began to come in.  Here, as elsewhere, most of the frontiersmen who had any religion at all professed the faith of the Scotch-Irish; and the first regular church in this cradle-spot of Tennessee was a Presbyterian log meeting-house, built near Jonesboro in 1777, and christened Salem Church.  Its pastor was a pioneer preacher, who worked with fiery and successful energy to spread learning and religion among the early settlers of the southwest.  His name was Samuel Doak.  He came from New Jersey, and had been educated in Princeton.  Possessed of the vigorous energy that marks the true pioneer spirit, he determined to cast in his lot with the frontier folk.  He walked through Maryland and Virginia, driving before him an old “flea-bitten grey” horse, loaded with a sackful of books; crossed the Alleghanies, and came down along blazed trails to the Holston settlements.  The hardy people among whom he took up his abode were able to appreciate his learning and religion as much as they admired his adventurous and indomitable temper; and the stern, hard, God-fearing man became a most powerful influence for good throughout the whole formative period of the southwest.

Not only did he found a church, but near it he built a log high-school, which soon became Washington College, the first institution of the kind west of the Alleghanies.  Other churches, and many other schools, were soon built.  Any young man or woman who could read, write, and cipher felt competent to teach an ordinary school; higher education, as elsewhere at this time in the west, was in the hands of the clergy.

As elsewhere, the settlers were predominantly of Calvinistic stock; for of all the then prominent faiths Calvinism was nearest to their feelings and ways of thought.  Of the great recognized creeds it was the most republican in its tendencies, and so the best suited to the backwoodsmen.  They disliked Anglicanism as much as they abhorred and despised Romanism ­theoretically at least, for practically then as now frontiersmen were liberal to one another’s religious opinions, and the staunch friend and good hunter might follow whatever creed he wished, provided he did not intrude it on others.  But backwoods Calvinism differed widely from the creed as first taught.  It was professed by thorough-going Americans, essentially free and liberty-loving, who would not for a moment have tolerated a theocracy in their midst.  Their social, religious, and political systems were such as naturally flourished in a country remarkable for its temper of rough and self-asserting equality.  Nevertheless the old Calvinistic spirit left a peculiar stamp on this wild border democracy.  More than any thing else, it gave the backwoodsmen their code of right and wrong.  Though they were a hard, narrow, dogged people, yet they intensely believed in their own standards and ideals.  Often warped and twisted, mentally and morally, by the strain of their existence, they at least always retained the fundamental virtues of hardihood and manliness.

Presbyterianism was not, however, destined even here to remain the leading frontier creed.  Other sects still more democratic, still more in keeping with backwoods life and thought, largely supplanted it.  Methodism did not become a power until after the close of the Revolution; but the Baptists followed close on the heels of the Presbyterians.  They, too, soon built log meeting-houses here and there, while their preachers cleared the forest and hunted elk and buffalo like the other pioneer settlers.

To all the churches the preacher and congregation alike went armed, the latter leaning their rifles in their pews or near their seats, while the pastor let his stand beside the pulpit.  On week-days the clergymen usually worked in the fields in company with the rest of the settlers; all with their rifles close at hand and a guard stationed.  In more than one instance when such a party was attacked by Indians the servant of the Lord showed himself as skilled in the use of carnal weapons as were any of his warlike parishioners.

The leaders of the frontiersmen were drawn from among several families, which, having taken firm root, were growing into the position of backwoods gentry.  Of course the use of this term does not imply any sharp social distinctions in backwoods life, for there were none such.  The poorest and richest met on terms of perfect equality, slept in one another’s houses, and dined at one another’s tables.  But certain families, by dint of their thrift, the ability they showed in civil affairs, or the prowess of some of their members in time of war, had risen to acknowledged headship.

The part of Washington County northwest of the Holston was cut off and made into the county of Sullivan by the North Carolina Legislature in 1779.  In this part the Shelbys were the leading family; and Isaac Shelby was made county lieutenant.  It had been the debatable ground between Virginia and North Carolina, the inhabitants not knowing to which province they belonged, and sometimes serving the two governments alternately.  When the line was finally drawn, old Evan Shelby’s estate was found to lie on both sides of it; and as he derived his title from Virginia, he continued to consider himself a Virginian, and held office as such.

In Washington County Sevier was treated as practically commander of the militia some time before he received his commission as county lieutenant.  He was rapidly becoming the leader of the whole district.  He lived in a great, rambling one-story log house on the Nolichucky, a rude, irregular building with broad verandas and great stone fire-places.  The rooms were in two groups, which were connected by a covered porch ­a “dog alley,” as old settlers still call it, because the dogs are apt to sleep there at night.  Here he kept open house to all comers, for he was lavishly hospitable, and every one was welcome to bed and board, to apple-jack and cider, hominy and corn-bread, beef, venison, bear meat, and wild fowl.  When there was a wedding or a merrymaking of any kind he feasted the neighborhood, barbecuing oxen ­that is, roasting them whole on great spits, ­and spreading board tables out under the trees.  He was ever on the alert to lead his mounted riflemen against the small parties of marauding Indians that came into the country.  He soon became the best commander against Indians that there was on this part of the border, moving with a rapidity that enabled him again and again to overtake and scatter their roving parties, recovering the plunder and captives, and now and then taking a scalp or two himself.  His skill and daring, together with his unfailing courtesy, ready tact, and hospitality, gained him unbounded influence with the frontiersmen, among whom he was universally known as “Nolichucky Jack.”

The Virginian settlements on the Holston, adjoining those of North Carolina, were in 1777 likewise made into a county of Washington.  The people were exactly the same in character as those across the line; and for some years the fates of all these districts were bound up together.  Their inhabitants were still of the usual backwoods type, living by tilling their clearings and hunting; the elk and buffalo had become very scarce, but there were plenty of deer and bear, and in winter countless wild swans settled down on the small lakes and ponds.  The boys followed these eagerly; one of them, when an old man, used to relate how his mother gave him a pint of cream for every swan he shot, with the result that he got the pint almost every day.

The leading family among these Holston Virginians was that of the Campbells, who lived near Abingdon.  They were frontier farmers, who chopped down the forest and tilled the soil with their own hands.  They used the axe and guided the plow as skilfully as they handled their rifles; they were also mighty hunters, and accustomed from boyhood to Indian warfare.  The children received the best schooling the back country could afford, for they were a book-loving race, fond of reading and study as well as of out-door sports.  The two chief members were cousins, Arthur and William.  Arthur was captured by the northern Indians when sixteen, and was kept a prisoner among them several years; when Lord Dunmore’s war broke out he made his escape, and acted as scout to the Earl’s army.  He served as militia colonel in different Indian campaigns, and was for thirty years a magistrate of the county; he was a man of fine presence, but of jealous, ambitious, overbearing temper.  He combined with his fondness for Indian and hunter life a strong taste for books, and gradually collected a large library.  So keen were the jealousies, bred of ambition, between himself and his cousin William Campbell, they being the two ranking officers of the local forces, that they finally agreed to go alternately on the different military expeditions; and thus it happened that Arthur missed the battle of King’s Mountain, though he was at the time County Lieutenant.

William Campbell stood next in rank.  He was a man of giant strength, standing six feet two inches in height, and straight as a spear-shaft, with fair complexion, red hair, and piercing, light blue eyes.  A firm friend and staunch patriot, a tender and loving husband and father, gentle and courteous in ordinary intercourse with his fellows, he was, nevertheless, if angered, subject to fits of raging wrath that impelled him to any deed of violence. He was a true type of the Roundheads of the frontier, the earnest, eager men who pushed the border ever farther westward across the continent.  He followed Indians and tories with relentless and undying hatred; for the long list of backwoods virtues did not include pity for either public or private foes.  The tories threatened his life and the lives of his friends and families; they were hand in glove with the outlaws who infested the borders, the murderers, horse-thieves, and passers of counterfeit money.  He hunted them down with a furious zest, and did his work with merciless thoroughness, firm in the belief that he thus best served the Lord and the nation.  One or two of his deeds illustrate admirably the grimness of the times, and the harsh contrast between the kindly relations of the border folks with their friends, and their ferocity towards their foes.  They show how the better backwoodsmen, the upright, church-going men, who loved their families, did justice to their neighbors, and sincerely tried to serve God, not only waged an unceasing war on the red and white foes of the State and of order, but carried it on with a certain ruthlessness that indicated less a disbelief in, than an utter lack of knowledge of, such a virtue as leniency to enemies.

One Sunday Campbell was returning from church with his wife and some friends, carrying his baby on a pillow in front of his saddle, for they were all mounted.  Suddenly a horseman crossed the road close in front of them, and was recognized by one of the party as a noted tory.  Upon being challenged, he rode off at full speed.  Instantly Campbell handed the baby to a negro slave, struck spur into his horse, and galloping after the fugitive, overtook and captured him.  The other men of the party came up a minute later.  Several recognized the prisoner as a well-known tory; he was riding a stolen horse; he had on him letters to the British agents among the Cherokees, arranging for an Indian rising.  The party of returning church-goers were accustomed to the quick and summary justice of lynch law.  With stern gravity they organized themselves into a court.  The prisoner was adjudged guilty, and was given but a short shrift; for the horsemen hung him to a sycamore tree before they returned to the road where they had left their families.

On another occasion, while Campbell was in command of a camp of militia, at the time of a Cherokee outbreak, he wrote a letter to his wife, a sister of Patrick Henry, that gives us a glimpse of the way in which he looked at Indians.  His letter began, “My dearest Betsy”; in it he spoke of his joy at receiving her “sweet and affectionate letter”; he told how he had finally got the needles and pins she wished, and how pleased a friend had been with the apples she had sent him.  He urged her to buy a saddle-horse, of which she had spoken, but to be careful that it did not start nor stumble, which were bad faults, “especially in a woman’s hackney.”  In terms of endearment that showed he had not sunk the lover in the husband, he spoke of his delight at being again in the house where he had for the first time seen her loved face, “from which happy moment he dated the hour of all his bliss,” and besought her not to trouble herself too much about him, quoting to her Solomon’s account of a good wife, as reminding him always of her; and he ended by commending her to the peculiar care of Heaven.  It was a letter that it was an honor to a true man to have written; such a letter as the best of women and wives might be proud to have received.  Yet in the middle of it he promised to bring a strange trophy to show his tender and God-fearing spouse.  He was speaking of the Indians; how they had murdered men, women, and children near-by, and how they had been beaten back; and he added:  “I have now the scalp of one who was killed eight or nine miles from my house about three weeks ago.  The first time I go up I shall take it along to let you see it.”  Evidently it was as natural for him to bring home to his wife and children the scalp of a slain Indian as the skin of a slain deer.

The times were hard, and they called for men of flinty fibre.  Those of softer, gentler mould would have failed in the midst of such surroundings.  The iron men of the border had a harsh and terrible task allotted them; and though they did it roughly, they did it thoroughly and on the whole well.  They may have failed to learn that it is good to be merciful, but at least they knew that it is still better to be just and strong and brave; to see clearly one’s rights, and to guard them with a ready hand.

These frontier leaders were generally very jealous of one another.  The ordinary backwoodsmen vied together as hunters, axemen, or wrestlers; as they rose to leadership their rivalries grew likewise, and the more ambitious, who desired to become the civil and military chiefs of the community, were sure to find their interests clash.  Thus old Evan Shelby distrusted Sevier; Arthur Campbell was jealous of both Sevier and Isaac Shelby; and the two latter bore similar feelings to William Campbell.  When a great crisis occurred all these petty envies were sunk; the nobler natures of the men came uppermost; and they joined with unselfish courage, heart and hand, to defend their country in the hour of her extreme need.  But when the danger was over the old jealousies cropped out again.

Some one or other of the leaders was almost always employed against the Indians.  The Cherokees and Creeks were never absolutely quiet and at peace.

    Indian Troubles.

After the chastisement inflicted upon the former by the united forces of all the southern backwoodsmen, treaties were held with them, in the spring and summer of 1777.  The negotiations consumed much time, the delegates from both sides meeting again and again to complete the preliminaries.  The credit of the State being low, Isaac Shelby furnished on his own responsibility the goods and provisions needed by the Virginians and Holston people in coming to an agreement with the Otari, or upper Cherokees [ Footnote:  Shelby’s MS. autobiography, copy in Col.  Durrett’s library.]; and some land was formally ceded to the whites.

But the chief Dragging Canoe would not make peace.  Gathering the boldest and most turbulent of the young braves about him, he withdrew to the great whirl in the Tennessee, at the crossing-place of the Creek war parties, when they followed the trail that led to the bend of the Cumberland River.  Here he was joined by many Creeks, and also by adventurous and unruly members from almost all the western tribes ­Chickasaws, Chocktaws, and Indians from the Ohio.  He soon had a great band of red outlaws round him.  These freebooters were generally known as the Chickamaugas, and they were the most dangerous and least controllable of all the foes who menaced the western settlements.  Many tories and white refugees from border justice joined them, and shared in their misdeeds.  Their shifting villages stretched from Chickamauga Creek to Running Water.  Between these places the Tennessee twists down through the sombre gorges by which the chains of the Cumberland ranges are riven in sunder.  Some miles below Chickamauga Creek, near Chattanooga, Lookout Mountain towers aloft into the clouds; at its base the river bends round Moccasin Point, and then rushes through a gap between Walden’s Ridge and the Raccoon Hills.  Then for several miles it foams through the winding Narrows between jutting cliffs and sheer rock walls, while in its boulder-strewn bed the swift torrent is churned into whirlpools, cataracts, and rapids.  Near the Great Crossing, where the war parties and hunting parties were ferried over the river, lies Nick-a-jack Cave, a vast cavern in the mountain side.  Out of it flows a stream, up which a canoe can paddle two or three miles into the heart of the mountain.  In these high fastnesses, inaccessible ravines, and gloomy caverns the Chickamaugas built their towns, and to them they retired with their prisoners and booty after every raid on the settlements.

No sooner had the preliminary treaty been agreed to in the spring of ’77 than the Indians again began their ravages.  In fact, there never was any real peace.  After each treaty the settlers would usually press forward into the Indian lands, and if they failed to do this the young braves were sure themselves to give offence by making forays against the whites.  On this occasion the first truce or treaty was promptly broken by the red men.  The young warriors refused to be bound by the promises of the chiefs and headmen, and they continued their raids for scalps, horses, and plunder.  Within a week of the departure of the Indian delegates from the treaty ground in April, twelve whites were murdered and many horses stolen.  Robertson, with nine men, followed one of these marauding parties, killed one Indian, and retook ten horses; on his return he was attacked by a large band of Creeks and Cherokees, and two of his men were wounded; but he kept hold of the recaptured horses and brought them safely in. On the other hand, a white scoundrel killed an Indian on the treaty ground, in July, the month in which the treaties were finally completed in due form.  By act of the Legislature the Holston militia were kept under arms throughout most of the year, companies of rangers, under Sevier’s command, scouring the woods and canebrakes, and causing such loss to the small Indian war parties that they finally almost ceased their forays.  Bands of these Holston rangers likewise crossed the mountains by Boon’s trail, and went to the relief of Boonsborough and St. Asaphs, in Kentucky, then much harassed by the northwestern warriors. Though they did little or no fighting, and stayed but a few days, they yet by their presence brought welcome relief to the hard-pressed Kentuckians. Kentucky during her earliest and most trying years received comparatively little help from sorely beset Virginia; but the backwoodsmen of the upper Tennessee valley ­on both sides of the boundary ­did her real and lasting service.

In 1778 the militia were disbanded, as the settlements were very little harried; but as soon as the vigilance of the whites was relaxed the depredations and massacres began again, and soon became worse than ever.  Robertson had been made superintendent of Indian affairs for North Carolina; and he had taken up his abode among the Cherokees at the town of Chota in the latter half of the year 1777.  He succeeded in keeping them comparatively quiet and peaceable during 1778, and until his departure, which took place the following year, when he went to found the settlements on the Cumberland River.

But the Chickamaugas refused to make peace, and in their frequent and harassing forays they were from time to time joined by parties of young braves from all the Cherokee towns that were beyond the reach of Robertson’s influence ­that is, by all save those in the neighborhood of Chota.  The Chickasaws and Choctaws likewise gave active support to the king’s cause; the former scouted along the Ohio, the latter sent bands of young warriors to aid the Creeks and Cherokees in their raids against the settlements.

The British agents among the southern Indians had received the letters Hamilton sent them after he took Vincennes; in these they were urged at once to send out parties against the frontier, and to make ready for a grand stroke in the spring.  In response the chief agent, who was the Scotch captain Cameron, a noted royalist leader, wrote to his official superior that the instant he heard of any movement of the northwestern Indians he would see that it was backed up, for the Creeks were eager for war, and the Cherokees likewise were ardently attached to the British cause; as a proof of the devotion of the latter, he added:  “They keep continually killing and scalping in Virginia, North Carolina, and the frontier of Georgia, although the rebels are daily threatening to send in armies from all quarters and extirpate the whole tribe.” It would certainly be impossible to desire better proof than that thus furnished by this royal officer, both of the ferocity of the British policy towards the frontiersmen, and of the treachery of the Indians, who so richly deserved the fate that afterwards befell them.

While waiting for the signal from Hamilton, Cameron organized two Indian expeditions against the frontier, to aid the movements of the British army that had already conquered Georgia.  A great body of Creeks, accompanied by the British commissaries and most of the white traders (who were, of course, tories), set out in March to join the king’s forces at Savannah; but when they reached the frontier they scattered out to plunder and ravage.  A body of Americans fell on one of their parties and crushed it; whereupon the rest returned home in a fright, save about seventy, who went on and joined the British.  At the same time three hundred Chickamaugas, likewise led by the resident British commissaries, started out against the Carolina frontier.  But Robertson, at Chota, received news of the march, and promptly sent warning to the Holston settlements; and the Holston men, both of Virginia and North Carolina, decided immediately to send an expedition against the homes of the war party.  This would not only at once recall them from the frontier, but would give them a salutary lesson.

Accordingly the backwoods levies gathered on Clinch River, at the mouth of Big Creek, April 10th, and embarked in pirogues and canoes to descend the Tennessee.  There were several hundred of them under the command of Evan Shelby; Isaac Shelby having collected the supplies for the expedition by his individual activity and on his personal credit.  The backwoodsmen went down the river so swiftly that they took the Chickamaugas completely by surprise, and the few warriors who were left in the villages fled to the wooded mountains without offering any resistance.  Several Indians were killed and a number of their towns were burnt, together with a great deal of corn; many horses and cattle were recaptured, and among the spoils were large piles of deer hides, owned by a tory trader.  The troops then destroyed their canoes and returned home on foot, killing game for their food; and they spread among the settlements many stories of the beauty of the lands through which they had passed, so that the pioneers became eager to possess them.  The Chickamaugas were alarmed and confounded by this sudden stroke; their great war band returned at once to the burned towns, on being informed by swift runners of the destruction that had befallen them.  All thoughts of an immediate expedition against the frontier were given up; peace talks were sent to Evan Shelby; and throughout the summer the settlements were but little molested.

Yet all the while they were planning further attacks; at the same time that they sent peace talks to Shelby they sent war talks to the Northwestern Indians, inviting them to join in a great combined movement against the Americans. When the news of Hamilton’s capture was brought it wrought a momentary discouragement; but the efforts of the British agents were unceasing, and by the end of the year most of the southwestern Indians were again ready to take up the hatchet.  The rapid successes of the royal armies in the southern States had turned the Creeks into open antagonists of the Americans, and their war parties were sent out in quick succession, the British agents keeping alive the alliance by a continued series of gifts ­for the Creeks were a venal, fickle race whose friendship could not otherwise be permanently kept.

As for the Cherokees, they had not confined themselves to sending the war belt to the northwestern tribes, while professing friendship for the Americans; they had continued in close communication with the British Indian agents, assuring them that their peace negotiations were only shams, intended to blind the settlers, and that they would be soon ready to take up the hatchet. This time Cameron himself marched into the Cherokee country with his company of fifty tories, brutal outlaws, accustomed to savage warfare, and ready to take part in the worst Indian outrages. The ensuing Cherokee war was due not to the misdeeds of the settlers ­though doubtless a few lawless whites occasionally did wrong to their red neighbors ­but to the short-sighted treachery and ferocity of the savages themselves, and especially to the machinations of the tories and British agents.  The latter unceasingly incited the Indians to ravage the frontier with torch and scalping knife.  They deliberately made the deeds of the torturers and women-killers their own, and this they did with the approbation of the British Government, and to its merited and lasting shame.

Yet by the end of 1779 the inrush of settlers to the Holston regions had been so great that, as with Kentucky, there was never any real danger after this year that the whites would be driven from the land by the red tribes whose hunting-ground it once had been.