Part 9 (1/2)

He little knew what kind of men he had stirred to wrath. The frontier settlers of Franklin and Holston, which grew into the great commonwealth of Tennessee, were, for the most part, Scotch-Irish people. They had grappled with the wilderness, and had hewn out homes for themselves. Along with their log cabins they had built meetinghouses and schoolhouses. Their life was {93} full of ever-present peril and hards.h.i.+p; for they were engaged in a ceaseless struggle with the Indians. The minister preached with his gun at his side, and the men listened with their rifles within their grasp.

As we should expect, these hardy settlers were generally stanch patriots. They believed in Was.h.i.+ngton and in the Continental Congress. They knew that British gold bribed the Indians, and furnished them with weapons to butcher their women and children. It was British gold, too, that hired the wild and lawless among them to enlist in the invading army; and it was British officers that drilled them to become expert in killing their brethren of the lowlands.

At the time of the Revolution, these backwoodsmen were still fighting with the savages, and so had not taken an active part in the war on the seaboard. Like a rear guard of well-seasoned veterans, they stood between the Indians and their people on the coast.

Now these hardy mountaineers took Ferguson's threat seriously. Their Scotch-Irish blood was up.

Colonel Shelby, one of the county lieutenants of Was.h.i.+ngton County, rode posthaste to John Sevier's home, sixty miles away, to carry Ferguson's threat.

Sevier lived on the Nolichucky River, and from his deeds of daring and his hospitality was nicknamed ”Chucky Jack.” When Shelby arrived, it was a day of merrymaking. They were having a barbecue; that is, they were roasting oxen whole on great spits; and a {94} horse race was to be run. The colonel told his story, and the merrymakers agreed to turn out.

Shelby now rode home at full speed to muster his own men, and sent urgent word to Colonel William Campbell, a famous Indian fighter, who lived forty miles away, to call out the Holston Virginians.

The place appointed for meeting was at Sycamore Shoals, a central point on the Watauga River. The day set was September 25.

Hither came Shelby and Sevier with about five hundred men, William Campbell with four hundred Virginians, and McDowell with about one hundred and sixty refugees from North Carolina.

Word was sent to Colonel Cleveland, a hunter and Indian fighter of Wilkes County in North Carolina, to come with all the men he could raise east of the mountains.

Colonel Sevier tried in vain to borrow money to furnish the men with horses and supplies. The people were willing to give their last dollar, but they had paid out all their money for land, and the cash was in the hands of the county entry taker, John Adair.

Sevier appealed to him.

This patriot's reply is historic: ”I have no authority by law, Colonel Sevier, to make that disposition of this money. It belongs to the treasury of North Carolina, and I dare not appropriate a penny of it to any purpose. But if the country is overrun by the British, liberty is {95} gone. Let the money go, too. Take it. If the enemy, by its use, is driven from the country, I can trust that country to justify and vindicate my conduct. Take it.”

This money, thirteen thousand dollars in silver and gold, was taken, and the supplies bought. Shelby and Sevier pledged themselves to refund the money, or to have the act legalized by the legislature.

September 25 was a day of intense excitement in those frontier settlements. The entire military force of what is now Tennessee met at Sycamore Shoals. The younger and more vigorous men were to march, while the older men with poorer guns were to remain behind, to help the women defend their homes against the savages. But all came, to bid good-by to husbands, to brothers, and to lovers. Food, horses, guns, blankets,--everything except money was brought without stint.

The backwoodsmen were mounted on swift, wiry horses. Their long hunting s.h.i.+rts were girded with bead-worked belts. Some wore caps made of mink or of c.o.o.nskins, with the tails hanging down behind; others had soft hats, in each of which was fastened either a sprig of evergreen or a buck's tail.

Nearly all were armed with what was called the Deckhard rifle, remarkable for the precision and the distance of its shot. Every man carried a tomahawk and a scalping knife. There was not a bayonet in the whole force. Here and there an officer wore a sword.

{96} There was no staff, no commissary, no quartermaster, and no surgeon.

Early in the morning of September 26, the little army was ready to march. Before leaving camp, all met in an open grove to hear their minister, the Rev. Samuel Doak, invoke divine blessing on their perilous undertaking.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Praying for the Success of the Riflemen]

Years before, this G.o.d-fearing man had crossed the mountains, driving before him an ”old flea-bitten gray horse” loaded with Bibles, and had cast his lot with the Holston settlers. By his energy in founding churches and in building schoolhouses, as well as by his skill in shooting Indians, he had become a potent influence for good among these frontier people.

Every man doffed his hat and bowed his head on his long rifle, as the white-headed Presbyterian prayed in burning words that they might stand bravely in battle, and that the sword of the Lord and of Gideon might smite their foes.

{97} Our little army now pushed on over the mountains. On the third day they crossed the Blue Ridge, and saw far away the fertile valleys of the upper Catawba. The next day they reached the lovely lowlands, where Colonel Cleveland with three hundred and fifty militia joined them.

Hitherto, each band of the mountain army had been under the command of its own leader. Some of the men were unruly; others were disposed to plunder. This would never do, if they were to be successful; and so, on October 2, it was decided to give the supreme command to Colonel Cleveland.

Before the army set out on the following day, the colonels told their men what was expected of them.

”Now, my brave fellows,” said Colonel Cleveland, ”the redcoats are at hand. We must up and at them. When the pinch comes, I shall be with you.”

”Everybody must be his own officer!” cried Colonel Shelby. ”Give them Indian play, boys; and now if a single man among you wants to go back home, this is your chance; let him step three paces to the rear.”