CHAPTER XI.--The Kentucky Spirit or Why the Kentucky Colonel.
Orange County, Virginia, was formed by Colonial act in 1734; and itsboundary was: "to the uttermost limits of Virginia." The limits ofVirginia were; "westward to the Mississippi and so much further as theColony had a mind to claim."
From Orange County, Augusta County was formed in 1738, extending beyondthe Alleghanies to the "uttermost limits of Virginia." Botetourt wascarved from Augusta in 1769 and Fincastle from Botetourt in 1772.Kentucky County was carved by a partition of Fincastle in 1776, underone of the earliest acts of the new Commonwealth of Virginia; andKentucky County, known as the District of Kentucky, was, in 1780,subdivided into Lincoln, Fayette and Jefferson Counties. These threecounties were resubdivided in the making of the additional counties ofNelson, Bourbon, Mercer, Madison, Mason and Woodford; and these ninecounties of Virginia, on June 1, 1792, became the State of Kentucky.
The days following the Revolution found the people of Virginia restless,poor and out of touch with the ordinary occupations of pre-war days.Their market for tobacco, the product which had sustained the aristocratin lavish prodigality and supported the colony, was lost and theplantations were mazes of briars and underbrush.
As was the intention of the statute, the abolition of entails by thelegislature of the new Commonwealth of Virginia, first diluted, thendissipated the power of the aristocracy. The family estate, theplantation of thousands of acres, which had been kept intact in thefamily for generations, was subdivided and resubdivided between theproprietor's heirs and creditors and their vendors, until the old-style,feudal-lord-like life was impossible.
These still land-hungry "First Families," looked to the District ofKentucky, where land, more fertile than Tidewater Virginia, was almostfree for the taking--to re-establish themselves as proprietors of vastlanded estates, as their fathers had been; thus to revive the prestigeand influence of the old family name; and many such emigrated toKentucky. A great many plain farmers, impoverished by the war and seeingno hope for improved fortune at the old home, hazarded a try for betterfortune in the new country. A yet more numerous and important elementwas the discharged veterans of the Continental Army; they had desired amore adventurous life than was to be found in clearing their old fieldsto start afresh the life of a poor farmer; and they came to Kentucky.
These three classes of emigrants, and a conservative estimate placestheir number at exceeding ten thousand a year for the decade succeedingthe Revolution, were of pure English stock, democratic, courteous,hardy, self-willed and trained to defend their rights--created theKentucky Spirit.
Those who had preceded them could not be classified as settlers. As arule they were wilderness tramps, or land jobbers, or consciencelesstraders, who built cabins surrounded by picketings of timbers planteddeep in the ground to protect their "stations" from surprises by theIndians; and such cabins soon became widely known. It was around thesestations the real immigrant settled.
In case of attack, the settlers near gathered at the "station." Theowner, of course, assumed command and exercised all the rights ofproprietor. Thus by consent he was designated as Colonel Boone, orColonel Morgan, or Colonel Gibson, or Colonel Cresap; which title heretained, as is the way of such adventurers, though his "station"frequently degenerated into a joint for the sale of rum or brandy and aresort for the dissolute or criminal of those early days.
Thus the title "Colonel" was applied to any one temporarily inauthority; and in Kentucky might be said to have a local meaning. Notall "Kentucky Colonels" have seen military service or are holders ofcommissions designating them as such; though the secretaries ofKentucky's recent governors, spend much of their time issuing suchcommissions.
The writer has known instances where Kentuckians holding a commission aslieutenant or captain during actual service; as they grew in importancelocally, or became a celebrity because the owner of a great race horse,or in appearance venerable, have been raised by the courtesy of theirneighbors to the rank of "General."
Emigrants from Virginia to the District of Kentucky had the choice ofthe river route down the Ohio, or overland by way of the Old WildernessRoad.
Those coming by river had first to travel caravan style to the head ofnavigation of the Allegheny, Monongahela, or Kanawha river or toPittsburgh. There they loaded their cattle into flat boats, or batteaux,or on rafts of poplar logs and floated down the Ohio; carefully keepingto the center of the stream, out of range from the shore. Reaching theirdestination, usually Limestone (Maysville) or Louisville, they soldtheir boat or raft and took to pack horse or wagon, completing theirjourney as they traveled on the first stage of it.
In 1787, M. St. John de Crevecoeur, a native of Normandy published in aParis journal an account of his river trip from Pittsburgh toLouisville. Considering the date, the narrative seems somewhatoverdrawn.
In part he said:
"After having waited twenty-two days at Pittsburgh I took advantage ofthe first boat which started for Louisville. It was 55 feet long, 12wide and 6 deep, drawing 3 feet of water. On its deck had been built alow cabin, but very neat, divided into several compartments, and on theforecastle the cattle and horses were kept in a stable. It was loadedwith bricks, boards, planks, bars of iron, coal, instruments ofhusbandry, dismounted wagons, anvils, bellows, dry goods, brandy, flour,biscuit, lard, salt meat, etc. These articles came in part from thecountry in the vicinity of Pittsburgh and from Indiana. (The Indianahere referred to was a section of Virginia lying east of theAlleghanies.) I observed the larger part of the passengers were youngmen who came from nearly all of the middle (coast) states; pleasant,contented, full of buoyant hopes; having with them money coming from thesale of their old farms, or from the share received from their parents.They were going to Kentucky to engage in business, to work at theirtrades and to acquire and establish new homes. What a singular but happyrestlessness, that which is constantly urging us all to become betteroff than we are and which drives us from one end of a continent to theother. In the evening after laying up, the more skillful hunters wouldgo to the land to shoot wild turkeys, which you are aware wait for thelast rays of the sun to fade away before going to roost in the tops ofthe highest trees."
When the settler fixed upon his location he appropriated a four hundredacre boundary, the settler's allowance; and taking possession, held itby what was then known as the "Tomahawk Claim;" that is, he blazed hisboundary lines with a tomahawk and hacked his initials on the cornertrees. He then built a log cabin and felled a few trees to give noticeto the world that the blazed boundary was appropriated. Hisappropriation was usually respected, mainly from custom and sentiment;though the right, if questioned, was usually defended by the rifle.
In the mid-summer of 1787 the Campbells with Mrs. McDonald, the Clarks,and the Fairfaxes, having sold their plantations, emigrated overland bythe Wilderness Trail to Kentucky.
Their experiences were much the same as the many who had preceded them;except as they had Indian guides, Oliuachica and two Mingo braves, theywere in little danger of attack from the Indians.
What was then known as the Wilderness Road extended from the lastsettlements on the east side of the Alleghanies, over the mountain on tothe headwaters of Clinch River, down that river valley, thence acrossthe mountain into Powell's Valley, thence with the valley to CumberlandGap and thence through the Gap into the District of Kentucky.
The road had been marked off by Daniel Boone in 1774-5, some said at thedirection of Lord Dunmore and others at the direction of Colonel RichardHenderson, as a highway to his colony of Transylvania; a vast boundarymostly in Kentucky, which he had purchased from the Cherokees at theCouncil of Sycamore Falls.
The road after crossing Cumberland Gap, as shown by John Filson's map of"Kentucke," forked at Flat Lick; the Indian trail known as the"Warrior's Path," passing north across the Ohio River to oldShauane-Town and to the chief settlement of the Mingo Nation on the"Sciotha" River. The other fork, Boone's or the Wilderness Road, fromFlat Lick followed a sout
hwest course to Rock Castle River, where theroad again forked, the right to Blue Licks and Boonesboro, the left onto the head of Dick's River, to Logan Station or St. Asaph's Plantation,then forks to Danville, to Lexington and to the Green River Settlements.
It was little more than a bridle path, being intended for pack horsesand foot travelers, though it was possible to follow it in a wagon.After 1780, quite a few came through carrying their heavy householdeffects in wagons; and a few of the aristocrats drove through theirfamily carriages, the tops of which were usually torn off by trailingvines from the trees or overhanging limbs.
Along a good portion of the road at intervals of the average day'sjourney, were "stations" or taverns where travelers usually passed thenight; but if these were not reached they used well-known camp groundscleared of underbrush and near a good spring, where they bivouacedaround a great open fire and slept under awnings or in their wagons.
The caravan led by Colonel Campbell, used to frontier life, preferredthe camping grounds. The taverns or stations had a bad name, asheadquarters for bandits who frequently robbed and murdered travelersand then spread the rumor of an Indian raid.
The four families, with their slaves, servants and three Indian guidesmade a total of thirty-two persons. There were eight wagons, twocarriages, thirty horses, six oxen, more than eighty head of beef andmilk cattle, a small flock of sheep and on the back of each wagon,resting on the tail gate, was either a coop of chickens or a crate ofpigs. The camp outfits were carried on pack horses so as not to disturbthe loaded wagons. The five negro slaves with their three children,driving the three ox wagons and bringing up the rear, whistling, singingand laughing, were the boisterous ones of the party. The three Indians,Colonel Campbell and Richard Cameron took the lead, and John, when hewas not driving the Fairfax carriage, rode with them, conversing withhis Indian friends. The Indians were the watchful, silent leaders byday, and one of them with a white companion, the guard by night.
The train bore a marked resemblance to the caravan of a patriarch ofancient days, searching for verdant pasture lands and sweet watercourses; who rode at the head with a body-guard and was followed by hisdependents and herds.
They had cause to be thankful for their three Indian guides. Travelingthrough Powell's Valley, in a dense forest, one of the braves gave thesignal for a halt and silence, while he stole silently ahead. In a halfhour he returned accompanied by more than thirty Mingoes and Shauanesewho had placed themselves in ambush, expecting to massacre the party.
Several were members of the Prophet's own tribe and treated him andChief Cross-Bearer with formal courtesy. In fact they had been sent toescort the Prophet back to his village. Had it not been for the threeIndians it is probable some of their party would have been murdered,before John's girdle had been noticed or their identity discovered. Attheir suggestion his sign was painted with puccoon root stain upon thesides of the wagon covers. The Indians remained with them until theycrossed over Cumberland Gap into the Yellow Creek Valley, whereMiddlesboro now stands.
There, Colonel Campbell, reminded of his old home in Scotland and hismore recent one in Virginia, pleased with the beautiful meadow free oftimber and the fruitful valley, which was a great deer and buffalopasture, decided to settle; and sought to persuade his friends to do so;but they, with the exception of the Camerons, concluded to travel onuntil they reached the "cane-brake" or blue grass country.
He fixed upon his "Tomahawk Claim" of four hundred acres as did Mr.Cameron; and their boundaries which joined were blazed off and marked bythem and re-marked by their Indian friends with the Indian sign thatthis was the lodge of Chief Cross-Bearer and therefore sacred fromattack. Then the Indians left them and took the "Warrior's Trail" forthe Scioto Valley, the land of the Mingo nation.
The Clarks and Fairfaxes remained for a week at Campbell Station andhelped get out the timbers for cabins and barns, but could not bepersuaded to remain longer. Then they moved on to Logan's Station andsubsequently pre-empted land in the vicinity of Danville, then thecapital of the District of Kentucky.
On the Sunday before they left Dorothy and John rode horseback toCumberland Gap; where, tying their horses in a dense copse of pawpawbushes, fearing they might otherwise be stolen, they climbed to thePinnacle overlooking the valleys on either side of the range.
The path to the Pinnacle was as old as man in America. The outcroppinglayers of stone, which made a rough natural stairway, in places was worndeep by the Indians and those who before them had trod its windings andon the highest point built their signal fires. Now white settlers comingthrough the Gap, mounted to the summit by the same trail and looked overthe Valley and the lesser mountains to the northward into the land ofpromise; and then back the way they had come towards their old home.
"Dorothy, when you visit a place like this do you take in the view asyou climb? I do not like to raise my eyes from the path until I reachthe top; therefore I see first the footworn stones, which have thepolish of a floor worn smooth by countless feet, though this path'ssurface is worn by the feet of uncounted generations.
"When I first come upon a peak, which like this over-towers its fellows,in thought I always entreat: Speak, gray mountain head! You know thepast, which to me is speechless! Do not thy members reach inward to thespirit of the mountain, which like a great beast of burden has lainasleep for a million years, yet has a heart of life? Tell of those whohave gone before; of the sun worshippers, who from your apex, making ofan attribute a god, have glorified the day, God's first creation; of theIndians, creatures of the forest shade, as silent as its shadows; who,coming into the bright light of your summit, from this wider vista, havefelt more completely the power and dignity of God and lacking a bettername have called him the Great Spirit; of the white man, the servant often talents, who, having bitten deeper into the fruit of the tree ofknowledge and knowing the true God, must be lifted in spirit above theearth and things earthly as from this altar he looks out and sees thatwhich though of the earth is not earthly, and things above which thoughof the heavens are not heavenly. When I go into the high places of themountains I feel I am led of the Spirit that I may be near the Lord andreceive from Him my commandments. Such places are either shrines ofworship, or sanctuaries where God abides.
"I look out and at first view see the earth below, the tree and mountaintops, the clouds, the azure under-pinions of the everlasting wings;then, if my thoughts are clear as crystal, the veil may be rent, and Imay see His face through a haze of glory.
"Dorothy, when you come as today, I feel that you too are led of theSpirit and that our spirits in unison offer praise to God. I am gladthat mind and spirit are in communion and I recall that God hath saidthat man shall not travel the way alone and hath made for each hishelpmate. If you are not to be, God hath not yet shown her face to me inlife or dream; nor has fancy painted any other or fairer vision than thysweet face."
"John, I do not see all this. Below I see the green and gray and brownof earth, except off in the valley the silver thread-like rivulet. WhenI lift my eyes towards the sun I see only the clouds and the sky. Thatis all; though my face is fanned and my hair tousled by the south windthat whispers to me. Do you hear what the south wind says? You havenever tousled it, John, except when as little children we playedtogether; never so much as caught a button of your coat in a straystrand and only the wind has played sweetheart and kissed my face. Oh!You need not move over. But when you were at William and Mary's and Iclimbed to John Calvin Rock--I like the name--you are not tempest-tossedlike other men, but sail a stormless sea or ride too deep fortossing--and looked out upon the valley, I always saw the same, allowingfor change of season and sky. But when I closed my eyes, I lookedthrough the peep hole of the old partition and saw a little boy inhomespun of oak-bark brown--and when I said ''ittle boy peek through,'he would not peek, but sat on the church bench as a thing of bronze,doubtless greatly shocked at my frivolity. Then the same little fellowtook me to the mountain top and showed me the valley and the kingdom ofmen below; and ta
lked of things I did not understand, as he continues todo. Again it was the same little boy who was the knight of my firstadventure, and without a show of fear wiped away my tears. Then we cameto live in the Valley and he was my nearest neighbor and, though my ownage, taught me more than the master. I have long since given up hope ofescape from him. Why has it always been the same little boy?--because itis going to be the same man, John. Oh, John! John!" And her eyes werefilled with tears and John wiped them away.
That night John met Captain Fairfax as he was returning from lookingafter his horses, which had been grain-fed preparatory to continuingtheir journey in the morning; and without preliminary, as was his way,asked for his daughter.
The Captain, taken by surprise, as bluntly declined. Then ashamed of hisbluntness, explained: "You know Dorothy is of gentle birth as are you onyour father's side. Your mother's people for generations have beenpreachers or teachers, they are of an old family though not of thenobility, and she is as good a woman as ever lived. My objection is notto your family; and I know you would make Dorothy a good husband; butyou have been educated for and expect to be a Presbyterian minister. Assuch you will not make a living sufficient to support Dorothy. Yourfather and I are no longer rich men, having given all except our landsto the cause of the Colonists. I am a Presbyterian, but I want Dorothyto marry a lawyer, or a planter--not a minister. I doubt if a ministerin this new country should marry; he is almost a creature of charity. Ifyou will go to Lexington or Danville and practice law or to the 'canecountry' and with your father's and my help buy a thousand acres andimprove it, in two or three years I will give my consent. If not, in myopinion, you should remain unmarried. It is the church or Dorothy foryour bride. Son, it is up to you."
John did not answer but walked out into the night.
When Captain Fairfax went into the partly finished house and told hiswife what had occurred, she burst into tears and upbraided him forshowing an unchristian spirit, saying: "No good will result from yourdecision. John is just the husband I would have chosen for Dorothy. Ihad hoped that they would marry."
She left the room, looking for Dorothy and sent her to find John.
Though the moon was full and one could see quite distinctly it wassometime before she found him in the shadow of a great elm near thecreek. She came up as though it were accidental.
"Why in the shadow and so pensive when we were so happy today? Let uswalk in the moonlight or sit on that great rock at the head of theriffle and watch the moonbeams play with the running water."
John, before answering, took her by the hand and led her to a seat onthe great boulder. Then he said: "Your father refuses. He looks at thematter from a different view point and his may be the correct one.Whether he or I am right rests with you; not upon your decision but yournature. If we do not marry it may mean a happier life for you, thoughfor me a necessary sacrifice. I offer very little more than my love andfidelity; offsetting this, as he puts it, is a life of privation,hardship and sacrifice--if service can be so called. What he expects foryou to have is what you have been brought up to expect--and I can nevergive."
"John, I love life and joy and gayety but I also love helping others. Ilove serving God; but as a king should be served, with praise andthankfulness. I think a song of thanksgiving is as divine worship astears of penitence, though each in order. If you will wait, and you andI are but twenty, in time he will come around to mother's and my way ofthinking. We run the Captain, though he is often victor in thepreliminary skirmish. Mother said she had always expected me to be yourwife and I have never thought of any one else for a husband."
An hour later they came to the house chatting happily; Dorothy havingconvinced John that her happiness was dependent upon their marriage; andthat before the end of another year Captain Fairfax would give hisconsent.
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John and Richard rode with the Fairfaxes and the Clarks to the ford ofthe Cumberland and after farewells and many promises of extended visits,left them to continue their journey over the Wilderness Trail to LoganStation; and they returned home.
Two years passed before John saw Dorothy again, though he wrote her manyletters sending them by travelers from Virginia to the settlements. Hereceived fewer than he sent, as the travel was mainly to and not fromthe settlements.
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Colonel Campbell, his son, their one servant and Richard Cameron werekept busy through the fall and winter completing their buildings,foraging for grain and roughness for their cattle, more than thirtyhead, and making necessary clearings for the spring crops. There was nota great deal of clearing, as they used the meadow of nearly a hundredacres across the creek, from which the Indians by their repeated fireshad years before burned off the timber to make pasture land for buffalo.More than half of this, after being cleared of briars and bush growth,they expected to cultivate in corn. John and the servants were assignedto this work while Colonel Campbell and Richard attended to the cattleand other duties. Their work was somewhat retarded by immigrants, who,coming through the gap, stopped overnight, sometimes longer, atCampbell's Station, as the place from the first was called. Severaltraders made a proposition to Colonel Campbell to open a tavern; whichhe declined, although it was an excellent place for one.
Their life was a rude and busy one. The days were given to greatphysical labor, particularly during that first winter. Under it and theplain wholesome diet of meat, corn bread, milk and dried fruits, Johnthrived and grew muscular and broad of shoulder.
The windows of their house were without glass and there were manycrevices between the logs, but the great fireplaces were heaped withseasoned logs, which burned through the night and which as they burnedout were replaced by John; though an oak or hickory one occasionallytaxed even his strength.
From the ingoing settlers they procured small quantities of flour, grainand tea, voluntarily exchanged or offered for their entertainment; asColonel Campbell always refused to charge a guest.
Late in the fall two other families settled in the Valley and increasedtheir colony by eight persons. One of these was a girl nearly John'sage; who when she saw him cast her vote in favor of the valley location.
The first of December two young men with a pack horse, delayed by asevere snow storm, were employed by the Colonel to help with the work ofclearing and plowing the meadow and remained until the following April.One of them carried off as his bride the girl, who first only had eyesfor John; but when he did not respond to her advances, named him the"Moon Calf," saying: "His mind is in the moon or some other planet."
By the first of June the Campbells had more than forty acres planted tocorn and Richard about fifteen acres. Twenty acres of the meadow hadbeen fenced for a hay field and the balance with some open woodland hadbeen made into a pasture. The summer was a fine one for their crops,rain and sun as needed; and when the corn was shocked in the fall thestation had much the appearance of an old plantation.
After a year in Yellow Creek valley, Richard Cameron sold his place andmoved to the blue grass. There he bought a large boundary of land,became a successful planter, having given up the ministry. In his oldage he was sent to congress from his district. He died a rich man.
Voices; Birth-Marks; The Man and the Elephant Page 17
