An Autobiography of Davy Crockett

by Stephen Brennan

  In the morning I got my bear hung up so as to be safe and then set out to hunt for my camp. I found it after a while and McDaniel and my son were very much rejoiced to see me get back, for they were about to give me up for lost. We got our breakfasts and then secured our meat by building a high scaffold and covering it over. We had no fear of its spoiling, for the weather was so cold that it couldn’t.

  We now started after my other bear, which had caused me so much trouble and suffering and before we got him, we got a start after another and took him also. We went on to the creek I had crossed the night before and camped, and then went to where my bear was, that I had killed in the crack. When we examined the place, McDaniel said he wouldn’t have gone into it, as I did, for all the bears in the woods.

  We took the meat down to our camp and salted it and also the last one we had killed, intending, in the morning, to make a hunt in the harricane again.

  We prepared for resting that night and I can assure the reader I was in need of it. We had laid down by our fire, and about ten o’clock there came a most terrible earthquake, which shook the earth so that we were rocked about like we had been in a cradle. We were very much alarmed, for though we were accustomed to feel earth quakes, we were now right in the region which had been torn to pieces by them in 1812 and we thought it might take a notion and swallow us up, like the big fish did Jonah.

  In the morning we packed up and moved to the harricane, where we made another camp and turned out that evening and killed a very large bear, which made eight we had now killed in this hunt.

  The next morning we entered the harricane again and in little or no time my dogs were in full cry. We pursued them and soon came to a thick cane-brake, in which they had stop’d their bear. We got up close to him, as the cane was so thick that we couldn’t see more than a few feet. Here I made my friend hold the cane a little open with his gun till I shot the bear, which was a mighty large one. I killed him dead in his tracks. We got him out and butch ered him and in a little time started another and killed him, which now made ten we had killed and we know’d we couldn’t pack any more home, as we had only five horses along. Therefore we returned to the camp and salted up all our meat to be ready for a start homeward next morning.

  The morning came and we packed our horses with the meat and had as much as they could pos sibly carry and sure enough cut out for home. It was about thirty miles and we reached home the second day. I had now accommodated my neigh bour with meat enough to do him, and had killed in all, up to that time, fifty-eight bears during the fall and winter.

  As soon as the time come for them to quit their houses and come out again in the spring. I took a notion to hunt a little more and in about one month I killed forty-seven more, which made one hundred and five bears I had killed in less than one year from that time.

  HAVING now closed my hunting for that winter, I returned to my hands, who were engaged about my boats and staves, and made ready for a trip down the river. I had two boats and about thirty thousand staves and so I loaded with them and set out for New Orleans. I got out of the Obion river, in which I had loaded my boats, very well; but when I got into the Mississippi, I found all my hands were bad scared and in fact I be lieve I was scared a little the worst of any; for I had never been down the river and I soon dis covered that my pilot was as ignorant of the business as myself. I hadn’t gone far before I determined to lash the two boats together; we did so, but it made them so heavy and obstinate that it was next akin to impossible to do any thing at all with them or to guide them right in the river.

  That evening we fell in company with some Ohio boats and about night we tried to land, but we could not. The Ohio men hollered to us to go on and run all night. We took their advice, though we had a good deal rather not but we couldn’t do any other way. In a short distance we got into what is called the “Devil’s Elbow” and if any place in the wide creation has its own proper name, I thought it was this. Here we had about the hardest work that I ever was engaged in to keep out of danger and even then we were in it all the while. We twice attempted to land at Wood-yards, which we could see, but couldn’t reach.

  The people would run out with lights and try to instruct us how to get to shore, but all in vain. Our boats were so heavy that we couldn’t take them much any way, except the way they wanted to go and just the way the current would carry them. At last we quit trying to land and con cluded just to go ahead as well as we could, for we found we couldn’t do any better. Some time in the night I was down in the cabin of one of the boats, sitting by the fire, thinking on what a hobble we had got into and how much better bear-hunting was on hard land than floating along on the water, when a fellow had to go ahead whether he was exactly willing or not.

  The hatchway into the cabin came slap down, right through the top of the boat, and it was the only way out except a small hole in the side, which we had used for putting our arms through to dip up water before we lashed the boats to gether.

  We were now floating sideways and the boat I was in was the hindmost as we went. All at once I heard the hands begin to run over the top of the boat in great confusion and pull with all their might. The first thing I know’d after this we went broadside full tilt against the head of an island where a large raft of drift timber had lodged. The nature of such a place would be, as everybody knows, to suck the boats down and turn them right under this raft; and the uppermost boat would, of course, be suck’d down and go un der first. As soon as we struck, I bulged for my hatchway as the boat was turning under sure enough. But when I got to it, the water was pouring thro’ in a current as large as the hole would let it and as strong as the weight of the river could force it. I found I couldn’t get out here, for the boat was now turned down in such a way that it was steeper than a house-top. I now thought of the hole in the side, and made my way in a hurry for that. With difficulty I got to it and when I got there, I found it was too small for me to get out by my own dower and I began to think that I was in a worse box than ever. But I put my arms through and hollered as loud as I could roar, as the boat I was in hadn’t yet quite filled with water up to my head. The hands who were next to the raft, seeing my arms out and hearing me holler, seized them and began to pull. I told them I was sinking and I pull my arms off, or force me through, for now I know’d well enough it was neck or nothing, come out or sink.

  By a violent effort they jerked me through but I was in a pretty pickle when I got through. I had been sitting without any clothing over my shirt; this was torn off; and I was literally skin’d like a rabbit. I was, however, well pleased to get out in any way, even without shirt or hide; as before I could straighten myself on the boat next to the raft, the one they pull’d me out of went entirely under and I have never seen it any more to this day. We all escaped on to the raft, where we were compelled to sit all night about a mile from land on either side. Four of my company were bareheaded and three bare footed; and of that number I was one. I reckon I looked like a pretty cracklin ever to get to Congress!!!

  We had now lost all our loading and every particle of our clothing, except what little we had on, but over all this, while I was setting there in the night floating about on the drift, I felt happier and better off than I ever had in my life be fore, for I had just made such a marvellous escape that I had forgot almost everything else in that; and so I felt prime.

  In the morning about sunrise, we saw a boat coming down and we hailed her. They sent a large skiff and took us all on board and carried us down as far as Memphis. Here I met with a friend that I never can forget as long as I am able to go ahead at any thing; it was a Major Win chester, a merchant of that place. He let us all have hats and shoes and some little money to go upon and so we all parted.

  A young man and myself concluded to go on down to Natchez to see if we could hear any thing of our boats, for we supposed they would float out from the raft, and keep on down the river. We got on a boat at Memphis, that was going down, and so cut out. Our largest boat, we were informed, had
been seen about fifty miles below where we stove and an attempt had been made to land her but without success, as she was as hard-headed as ever.

  This was the last of my boats and of my boating, for it went so badly with me, along at the first, that I hadn’t much mind to try it any more. I now returned home again and as the next August was the Congressional election, I be gan to turn my attention a little to that matter, as it was beginning to be talked of a good deal among the people.

  I HAVE heretofore informed the reader that I had determined to run this race to see what effect the price of cotton could have again on it. I now had Col. Alexander to run against once more and also General William Arnold.

  I had difficulties enough to fight against this time, as every one will suppose; for I had no money and a very bad prospect, so far as I know’d, of getting any to help me along. I had, however, a good friend who sent for me to come and see him. I went and he was good enough to offer me same money to help me out. I borrowed as much as I thought I needed at the start and went ahead. My friend also had a good deal of business about over the district at the different courts and if he now and then slip’d in a good word for me, it is nobody’s business. We frequently met at different places and, as he thought I needed, he would occasionally hand me a little more cash so I was able to buy a little of “the creature” to put my friends in a good humour, as well as the other gentlemen, for they all treat in that country not to get elected, of course; for that would be against the law but just, as I before said, to make themselves and their friends feel their keeping a little.

  Nobody ever did know how I got money get along on till after the election was over and I had beat my competitors twenty-seven hun dred and forty-eight votes. Even the price of cotton couldn’t save my friend Aleck this time. My rich friend, who had been so good to me in the way of money, now sent for me and loaned me a hundred dollars and told me to go ahead; that that amount would bear my expenses to Congress and I must then shift for myself. I came on to Washington and draw’d two hundred and fifty dollars and purchased with it a check on the bank at Nashville and enclosed it to my friend; and I may say, in truth, I sent this money with a mighty good will, for I reckon nobody in this world loves a friend better than me, or remembers a kindness longer.

  I have now given the close of the election, but I have skip’d entirely over the canvass, of which I will say a very few things in this place; as I know very well how to tell the truth, but not much about placing them in book order so as to please critics.

  Col. Alexander was a very clever fellow and principal surveyor at that time, so much for one of the men I had to run against. My other competition as a major-general in the militia, and an attorney general at the law and quite a smart, clever man also and so it will be seen I had war work as well as law trick to stand up under. Taking both together, they make a pretty considerable of a load for any one man to carry. But for war claims, I consider myself behind no man except “the government” and mighty little, if any, behind him; but this the people will have to determine hereafter, as I reckon it won’t do to quit the work of “reform and retrenchment” yet for a spell.

  But my two competitors seemed some little afraid of the influence of each other but not to think me in their way at all. They, therefore, were generally working against each other while I was going ahead for myself and mixing among the people in the best way I could. I was as cun ning as a little red fox and wouldn’t risk my tail in a “committal” trap.

  I found the sign was good almost everywhere I went. On one occasion, while we were in the eastern counties of the district, it happened that we all had to make a speech and it fell on me to make the first one. I did so after my manner and it turned pretty much on the old saying, “A short horse is soon curried,” as I spoke not very long. Colonel Alexander followed me and then General Arnold come on.

  The general took much pains to reply to Alexander but didn’t so much as let on that there was any such candidate as myself at all. He had been speaking for a considerable time when a large flock of guinea-fowls came very near to where he was and set up the most unmerciful chattering that ever was heard, for they are a noisy little brute any way. They so confused the ge neral that he made a stop and requested that they might be driven away. I let him finish his speech and then walking up to him, said aloud, “Well, colonel, you are the first man I ever saw that un derstood the language of fowls.” I told him that he had not had the politeness to name me in his speech and that when my little friends, the guinea-fowls, had come up and began to holler “Crockett, Crockett, Crockett,” he had been ungenerous enough to stop and drive them all away. This raised a universal shout among the people for me and the general seemed mighty bad plagued. But he got more plagued than this at the polls in August, as I have stated before.

  This election was in 1827 and, I can say, on my conscience, that I was, without disguise, the friend and supporter of General Jackson upon his principles as he laid them down and as “I understood them” before his election as presi dent. During my two first sessions in Congress, Mr. Adams was president and I worked along with what was called the Jackson party pretty well. I was reelected to Congress in 1829 by an overwhelming majority and soon after the commencement of this second term, I saw, or thought I did, that it was expected of me that I was to bow to the name of Andrew Jackson and to follow him in all his motions and mindings and turnings, even at the expense of my conscience and judgment. Such a thing was new to me and a total stranger to my principles. I know’d well enough, though, that if I didn’t “hurra” for his name, the hue and cry was to be raised against me and I was to be sacrificed, if possible. His famous, or rather I should ay his in-famous, In dian bill was brought forward and I opposed it from the purest motives in the world. Several of my colleagues got around me and told me how well they loved me and that I was ruining my self. They said this was a favourite measure of the president and I ought to go for it. I told them I believed it was a wicked, unjust measure and that I should go against it, let the cost to my self be what it might; that I was willing to go with General Jackson in every thing that I be lieved was honest and right but, further than this, I wouldn’t go for him or any other man in the whole creation; that I would sooner be ho nestly and politically d—nd than hypocritically immortalized. I had been elected by a majority of three thousand five hundred and eighty-five votes and I believed they were honest men and wouldn’t want me to vote for any unjust notion to please Jackson or any one else. At any rate, I was of age and was determined to trust them. I voted against this Indian bill and my conscience yet tells me that I gave a good honest vote and one that I believe will not make me ashamed in the day of judgment. I served out my term, and though many amusing things happened, I am not disposed to swell my narrative by inserting them.

  When it closed, and I returned home, I found the storm had raised against me sure enough and it was echoed from side to side and from end to end of my district that I had turned against Jackson. This was considered the unpardonable sin. I was hunted down like a wild varment and in this hunt every little newspaper in the district and every little pin-hook lawyer was engaged. Indeed, they were ready to print any and everything that the ingenuity of man could invent against me. Each editor was furnished with the journals of Congress from head-quarters and hunted out every vote I had missed in four ses sions, whether from sickness or not, no matter, and each one was charged against me at eight dollars. In all I had missed about seventy votes, which they made amount to five hundred and sixty dollars, and they contended I had swindled the government out of this sum, as I had received my pay, as other members do. I was now again a candidate in 1830 while all the attempts were making against me and every one of these little papers kept up a constant war on me, fighting with every scurrilous report they could catch.

  Over all I should have been elected, if it hadn’t been, that but a few weeks before the election, the little four-pence-ha’penny limbs of the law fell on a plan to defeat me, which had the de
sired effect. They agreed to spread out over the district and make appointments for me to speak almost every where to clear up the Jackson question. They would give me no notice of these appointments and the people would meet in great crowds to hear what excuse Crockett had to make for quit ting Jackson.

  But instead of Crockett’s being there, this small-fry of lawyers would be there with their saddle-bags full of the little newspapers and their journals of Congress. They would get up and speak and read their scurrilous attacks on me and would then tell the people that I was afraid to attend and in this way would turn many against me. All this intrigue was kept a profound secret from me till it was too late to counteract it and when the election came, I had a majority in seventeen counties, putting all their votes to gether, but the eighteenth beat me and so I was left out of Congress during those two years. The people of my district were induced, by these tricks, to take a stay on me for that time but they have since found out that they were imposed on, and on re-considering my case, have reversed that de cision which, as the Dutchman said, “is as fair a ding as eber was.”

  When I last declared myself a candidate, I knew that the district would be divided by the Legislature before the election would come on and I moreover knew that from the geographical situation of the country, the county of Madison, which was very strong and which was the county that had given the majority that had beat me in the former race, should be left off from my district.

  But when the Legislature met, as I have been informed, and I have no doubt of the fact Mr. Fitzgerald, my competitor, went up and informed his friends in that body, that if Madison county was left off, he wouldn’t run; for “that Crockett could beat Jackson himself in those parts in any way they could fix it.”