(from Daniel Boone, “The Adventures of Daniel Boone”
in The Discovery, Settlement and Present State of Kentucke
by John Filson, 1784)
NUMEROUS INDIAN ATTACKS on frontier settlements were fomented and supplied by the British during the Revolutionary War. The Kentucky region, in particular, became known as “the Dark and Bloody Ground.” After the war, when land was put up for sale, John Filson published The Discovery, Settlement and Present State of Kentucke to improve the morbid image and encourage settlement. When the popular book came out in 1784 the trans-Appalachian movement had begun. In the book was an appendix containing an autobiography by Daniel Boone (1734–1820), the legendary frontiersman who had spent years exploring the region. “The Adventures of Daniel Boon” did much to secure his subsequent reputation; it was a paean to Kentucky, as well as a personal history of continuous warfare with the Indians from 1769 to 1782. Here are Boone’s adventures in their entirety.
IT WAS ON THE 1ST OF MAY , 1769, that I resigned my domestic happiness, and left my family and peaceful habitation on the Yadkin-River, in North-Carolina, to wander through the wilderness of America, in quest of the country of Kentucky, in company with John Finley, John Stuart, Joseph Holden, James Money, and William Cool. On the 7th of June, after traveling through a mountainous wilderness, in a western direction, we found ourselves on Red-River, where John Finley had formerly been trading with the Indians; and from the top of an eminence saw with pleasure the beautiful level of Kentucky. For some time we had experienced the most uncomfortable weather. We now encamped, made a shelter to defend us from the inclement season, and began to hunt and reconnoiter the country. We found an abundance of wild beasts in this vast forest. The buffaloes were more numerous than cattle on other settlements, browsing upon the leaves of the cane, or cropping the herbage of these extensive plains. We saw hundreds in a drove, and the numbers about the salt springs were amazing. In this forest, the habitation of beasts of every American kind, we hunted with success until December.
On the 22d of December, John Stuart and I had a pleasing ramble; but fortune changed the day at the close of it. We had passed through a great forest, in which stood myriads of trees, some gay with blossoms, others rich with fruits. Nature had here a series of wonders and a fund of delights. Here she displayed her ingenuity and industry in a variety of flowers and fruits, beautifully coloured, elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavoured; and we were diverted with numberless animals presenting themselves perpetually to our view.
In the decline of the day, near the Kentucky-River, as we descended the brow of a small hill, a number of Indians rushed out of a thick cane-brake and made us prisoners. They plundered us, and kept us in confinement seven days. During this time, we discovered no uneasiness or desire to escape, which made them less suspicious; but in the dead of night, as we lay by a large fire in a thick cane-brake, when sleep had locked up their senses, my situation not disposing me to rest, I gently awoke my companion. We seized this favourable opportunity and departed, directing our course towards our old camp; but found it plundered, and our companions dispersed or gone home. About this time my brother, Squire Boone, with another adventurer, who came to explore the country shortly after us, was wandering through the forest, and accidentally found our camp. Notwithstanding our unfortunate circumstances, and our dangerous situation, surrounded by hostile savages, our meeting fortunately in the wilderness gave us the most sensible satisfaction.
Soon after this, my companion in captivity, John Stuart, was killed by the savages; and the man that came with my brother returned home by himself. We were then in a dangerous, helpless situation, exposed daily to perils and deaths among savages and wild beasts, not a white man in the country but ourselves. Thus, many hundred miles from our families, in the howling wilderness, we did not continue in a state of indolence, but hunted every day, and prepared a little cottage to protect us from the winter storms. We met with no disturbance during the winter.
On the first May, 1770, my brother returned home by himself for a new recruit of horses and ammunition, leaving me alone without bread, salt, or sugar, or even a horse or dog. I passed a few days uncomfortably. The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety on my account, would have exposed me to melancholy, if I had further indulged the thought.
One day I undertook a tour through the country, when the diversity and beauties of nature I met with in this charming season, expelled every gloomy thought. Just at the close of the day, the gentle gales ceased; a profound calm ensued; not a breath shook the tremulous leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and looking round with astonishment and delight, beheld the ample plains and beauteous tracts below. On one hand, the famous Ohio, rolling in silent dignity, and marking the western boundary of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast distance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows and penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, which a few hours before I had killed. The shades of night soon overspread the hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gasp after the hovering moisture. My excursion had fatigued my body and amused my mind. I laid me down to sleep, and awoke not until the sun had chased away the night.
I continued this tour, and in a few days explored a great part of the country, each day equally pleased as the first; after which I returned to my old camp, which had not been disturbed in my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often reposed in thick cane-brakes, to avoid the savages, who, I believe, often visited my camp, but fortunately during my absence. No populous city, with all the varieties of commerce and stately structures, could afford so much pleasure to my mind as the beauties of nature I found in this country. Until the 24th of July, I spent the time in an uninterrupted scene of sylvan pleasures, when my brother, to my great felicity, met me, according to appointment, at our old camp. Soon after we left the place, and proceeded to Cumberland River, reconnoitering that part of the country, and giving names to the different rivers.
In March, 1771, I returned home to my family, being determined to bring them as soon as possible, at the risk of my life and fortune, to reside in Kentucky, which I esteemed a second paradise. On my return, I found my family in happy circumstances. I sold my farm at Yadkin, and what goods we could not carry with us; and on the 25th of September, 1773, we bade farewell to our friends, and proceeded on our journey to Kentucky, in company with five more families, and forty men that joined us in Powell’s Valley, which is one hundred and fifty miles from the now settled parts of Kentucky; but this promising beginning was soon overcast with a cloud of adversity.
On the 10th of October, the rear of our company was attacked by a number of Indians, who killed six and wounded one man. Of these, my eldest son was one that fell in the action. Though we repulsed the enemy, yet this unhappy affair scattered our cattle, brought us into extreme difficulty, and so discouraged the whole company, that we retreated forty miles to Clench River.
We had passed over two mountains, Powell’s and Walden’s, and were approaching Cumberland Mountain when this adverse fortune overtook us. These mountains are in the wilderness, in passing from the old settlements in Virginia to Kentucky, are ranged in a S.W. and N.E. direction, are of great length and breadth, and not far distant from each other. Over them nature has formed passes, less difficult than might be expected from the view of such huge piles. The aspect of these cliffs is so wild and horrid, that it is impossible to behold them without terror.
Until the 6th of June, 1774, I remained with my family on the Clench, when I and Michael Stoner were solicited by Governor Dunmore, of Virginia, to conduct a number of surveyors to the falls of Ohio. This was a tour of near eight hundred miles, and took us sixty-two days. On my return, Governor Dunmore gave me the command of three garrisons, during the campaign against the Shawanese.
In March, 1775, at the solicitation of a number of gentlemen of North-Carolina, I attended their treaty at Wataga with the Cherokee Indians, to purchase the lands on the south side of Kentucky River. After this I undertook to mark out a road in the best passage from the settlements, through the wilderness, to Kentucky. Having collected a number of enterprising men, well armed, I soon began this work. We proceeded until we came within fifteen miles of where Boonsborough now stands, where the Indians attacked us, and killed two, and wounded two more. This was the 20th of March, 1775. Three days after they attacked us again; we had two killed and three wounded. After this we proceeded on the Kentucky River without opposition.
On the first of April we began to erect the fort of Boonsborough, at a salt-lick, sixty yards from the river, on the south side. On the 4th, they killed one of our men. On the 14th of June, having finished the fort, I returned to my family on the Clench. Soon after I removed my family to this fort: we arrived safe; my wife and daughters being the first white women that stood on the banks of Kentucky River. December 24th, the Indians killed one man and wounded another, seeming determined to persecute us for erecting this fort.
July 14th, 1776, two of Colonel Colway’s daughters, and one of mine, were taken prisoners near the fort. I immediately pursued the Indians with only eighteen men. On the 16th I overtook them, killed two of them, and recovered the girls. The Indians had divided themselves into several parties, and attacked, on the same day, all our settlement and forts, doing a great deal of mischief. The husbandman was shot dead in the field, and most of the cattle were destroyed. They continued their hostilities until the 15th of April, 1777, when a party of one hundred of them attacked Boonsborough, and killed one man and wounded four. July 4th, they attacked it again with two hundred men, and killed one of us and wounded two. They remained forty-eight hours, during which we killed seven of them. All the settlements were attacked at the same time.
July 19th, Colonel Logan’s fort was besieged by two hundred Indians. They did much mischief: there were only fifteen men in the fort; they killed two, and wounded four of them. Indians’ loss unknown.
July 25th, twenty-five men came from Carolina. About August 20th, Colonel Bowman arrived with one hundred men from Virginia. Now we began to strengthen, and had skirmishes with the Indians almost every day. The savages now learned the superiority of the long-knife, as they called the Virginians, being out-generalled almost in every battle. Our affairs began to wear a new aspect; the enemy did not now venture open war, but practised secret mischief.
January 1st, 1778, I went with thirty men to the Blue Licks, on Licking River, to make salt for the different garrisons. February 7th, hunting by myself to procure meat for the company, I met a party of one hundred and two Indians, and two Frenchmen, marching against Boonsborough. They pursued and took me. The next day I capitulated for my men, knowing they could not escape. They were twenty-seven in number, three having gone home with salt. The Indians, according to the capitulation, used us generously. They carried us to Old Chillicothe, the principal Indian town on the Little Miami.
On the 18th of February, we arrived there, after an uncomfortable journey, in very severe weather. On the 10th of March, I and ten of my men were conducted to Detroit. On the 30th we arrived there, and were treated by Governor Hamilton, the British commander at that post, with great humanity.
The Indians had such an affection for me, that they refused one hundred pounds sterling offered them by the governor, if they would leave me with the others, on purpose that he might send me home on my parole. Several English gentlemen there, sensible of my adverse fortune, and touched with sympathy; generously offered to supply my wants, which I declined with many thanks, adding, that I never expected it would be in my power to recompense such unmerited generosity.
On the 10th of April, they brought me towards Old Chillicothe, where we arrived on the 25th day of the same month. This was a long and fatiguing march through an exceeding fertile country, remarkable for fine springs and streams of water. At Chillicothe I spent my time as comfortably as I could expect; was adopted, according to their custom, into a family, where I became a son, and had a great share in the affections of my new parents, brothers, sisters, and friends.
I was exceedingly familiar and friendly with them, always appearing as cheerful and satisfied as possible, and they put great confidence in me. I often went a hunting with them, and frequently gained their applause for my activity. At our shooting matches, I was careful not to exceed many of them in shooting; for no people are more envious than they are in this sport. I could observe in their countenances and gestures the greatest expressions of joy when they exceeded me, and when the reverse happened, of envy.
The Shawanese king took great notice of me, treated me with profound respect and entire friendship, and often intrusted me to hunt at my liberty. I frequently returned with the spoils of the woods, and as often presented some of what I had taken to him, expressive of my duty to my sovereign. My food and lodging were in common with them; not so good, indeed, as I could desire, but necessity made every thing acceptable. I now began to meditate an escape, but carefully avoided giving suspicion. Until the 1st of June, I continued at Old Chillicothe, and then was taken to the salt springs on the Sciota, and kept there ten days making salt. During this time I hunted with them, and found the land, for a great extent about this river, to exceed the soil of Kentucky, if possible, and remarkably well watered.
On my return to Chillicothe, four hundred and fifty of the choicest Indian warriors were ready to march against Boonsborough, painted and armed in a dreadful manner. This alarmed me, and I determined to escape.
On the 16th of June, before sunrise, I went off secretly, and reached Boonsborough on the 20th, a journey of one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had only one meal. I found our fortress in a bad state; but we immediately repaired our flanks, gates, posterns, and formed double bastions, which we completed in ten days. One of my fellow-prisoners escaped after me, and brought advice that on account of my flight the Indians had put off the expedition for three weeks.
About August 1st, I set out with nineteen men to surprise Point-Creek-Town, on Sciota. Within four miles we fell in with thirty Indians, going against Boonsborough. We fought, and the enemy gave way. We suffered no loss. The enemy had one killed and two wounded. We took three horses, and all their baggage. The Indians having evacuated their town, and gone altogether against Boonsborough, we returned, passed them on the 6th day, and on the 7th arrived safe at Boonsborough. On the 8th the Indian army, four hundred and forty-four in number, commanded by Captain Dugnesne, and eleven other Frenchmen, and their own chiefs, came and summoned the fort. I requested two days consideration, which they granted. During this, we brought in, through the posterns, all the horses and other cattle we could collect. On the 9th, in the evening, I informed their commander that we were determined to defend the fort while a man was living.
They then proposed a treaty, and said, if we sent out nine men to conclude it, they would withdraw. The treaty was held within sixty yards of the fort, as we suspected the savages. The articles were agreed to and signed; when the Indians told us it was their custom for two Indians to shake hands with every white man, as an evidence of friendship. We agreed to this also. They immediately grappled us to take us prisoners; but we cleared ourselves of them, though surrounded by hundreds, and gained the fort safely, except one that was wounded by a heavy fire from their army. On this they began to undermine the fort, beginning at the water-mark of Kentucky River, which is sixty yards from the fort. We discovered this by the water being made muddy with the clay, and countermined them by cutting a trench across their subterranean passage. The enemy, discovering this by the clay we threw out of the fort, desisted. On the 20th of August they raised the siege. During this dreadful siege, we had two men killed and four wounded. We lost a number of cattle. We killed thirty-seven of the enemy, and wounded a great number. We picked up one hundred and twenty-five pounds of their bullets, besides what stuck in the logs of the fort. Soon after this I went into the settlement, and nothing worthy of notice passed for some time.
In July, 1779, during my absence, Colonel Bowman, with one hundred and sixty men, went against the Shawanese at Old Chillicothe. He arrived undiscovered; a battle ensued, which lasted till ten in the morning, when Colonel Bowman retreated thirty miles. The Indians collected all their strength and pursued him, when another engagement ensued for two hours, not to Colonel Bowman’s advantage. Colonel Harrod proposed to mount a number of horses and break the enemy’s line, who at this time fought with remarkable fury. This desperate measure had a happy effect, and the savages fled on all sides. In these two battles we had nine men killed and one wounded. The enemy’s loss was uncertain, only two scalps being taken.
June 22d, 1780, about six hundred Indians and Canadians, under Colonel Bird, attacked Riddle’s and Martin’s Stations, and the forts of Licking River, with six pieces of artillery: they took all the inhabitants captive, and killed one man and two women, and loaded the others with the heavy baggage, and such as failed in the journey were tomahawked. The hostile disposition of the savages caused General Clark, the commandant at the Falls of Ohio, to march with his regiment and the armed force of the country against Peccaway, the principal town of the Shawanese, on a branch of the Great Miami, which he finished with great success, took seventeen scalps, and burned the town to ashes, with the loss of seventeen men.
About this time I returned to Kentucky with my family; for during my captivity, my wife, who despaired of ever seeing me again, expecting the Indians had put a period to my life, oppressed with the distresses of the country, and bereaved of me, her only happiness, had, before I returned, transported my family and goods, on horses, through the wilderness, amidst a multitude of dangers, to her father’s house, in North Carolina.
Shortly after the troubles at Boonsborough, I went to them, and lived peaceably there until this time. The history of my going home, and returning with my family, forms a series of difficulties, an account of which would swell a volume, and being foreign to my purpose, I shall purposely omit them.
I settled my family in Boonsborough once more; and shortly after, on the sixth day of October, 1780, I went in company with my brother to the Blue Licks; and, on our return home, we were fired upon by a party of Indians. They shot him, and pursued me, by the scent of their dog, three miles; but I killed the dog, and escaped. The Winter soon came on, and was very severe, which confined the Indians to their wigwams.
The severity of this Winter caused great difficulties in Kentucky. The enemy had destroyed most of the corn, the Summer before. This necessary article was scarce, and dear; and the inhabitants lived chiefly on the flesh of buffaloes. The circumstances of many were very lamentable: However, being a hardy race of people, and accustomed to difficulties and necessities, they were wonderfully supported through all their sufferings, until the ensuing Fall, when we received abundance from the fertile soil.
Towards Spring, we were frequently harassed by Indians; and, in May, 1782, a party assaulted Ashton’s station, killed one man, and took a Negro prisoner. Capt. Ashton, with twenty-five men, pursued, and overtook the savages, and a smart fight ensued, which lasted two hours; but they being superior in number, obliged Captain Ashton’s party to retreat, with the loss of eight killed, and four mortally wounded; their brave commander himself being numbered among the dead.
The Indians continued their hostilities; and, about the tenth of August following, two boys were taken from Major Hoy’s station. This part was pursued by Capt. Holder and seventeen men, who were also defeated, with the loss of four men killed, and one wounded. Our affairs became more and more alarming. Several stations which had lately been erected in the country were continually infested with savages, stealing their horses and killing the men at every opportunity. In a field, near Lexington, an Indian shot a man, and running to scalp him, was himself shot from the fort, and fell dead upon his enemy.
Every day we experienced recent mischiefs. The barbarous savage nations of Shawanese, Cherokees, Wyandots, Tawas, Delawares, and several others near Detroit, united in a war against us and assembled their choicest warriors at old Chelicothe, to go on the expedition, in order to destroy us, and entirely depopulate the country. Their savage minds were inflamed to mischief by two abandoned men, Captains McKee and Girty. These led them to execute every diabolical scheme; and, and the fifteenth day of August, commanded a party of Indians and Canadians, of about five hundred in number, against Briant’s station, five miles from Lexington. Without demanding a surrender, they furiously assaulted the garrison, which was happily prepared to oppose them; and, after they had expended much ammunition in vain, and killed the cattle round the fort, not being likely to make themselves masters of this place, they raised the siege, and departed in the morning of the third day after they came, with the loss of about thirty killed, and the number of wounded uncertain. Of the garrison four were killed, and three wounded.
On the eighteenth day Col. Todd, Col. Trigg, Major Harland, and myself, speedily collected one hundred and seventy-six men, well armed, and pursued the savages. They had marched beyond the Blue Licks to a remarkable bend of the main fork of Licking River, about forty-three miles from Lexington, as it is particularly represented in the map, where we overtook them on the nineteenth day. The savages observing us, gave way; and we, being ignorant of their numbers, passed the river. When the enemy saw our proceedings, having greatly the advantage of us in [our] situation, they formed the line of battle, as represented in the map, from one bend of Licking to the other, about a mile from the Blue Licks. An exceedingly fierce battle immediately began, for about fifteen minutes, when we, being over-powered by numbers, were obliged to retreat, with the loss of sixty-seven men; seven of whom were taken prisoners. The brave and much lamented Colonels Todd and Trigg, Major Harland and my second son, were among the dead. We were informed that the Indians, numbering their dead, found they had four killed more than we; and therefore, four of the prisoners they had taken, were, by general consent, ordered to be killed, in a most barbarous manner, by the young warriors, in order to train them up to cruelty; and then they proceeded to their towns.
On our retreat we were met by Col. Logan, hastening to join us, with a number of well-armed men. This powerful assistance we unfortunately wanted in the battle; for, notwithstanding the enemy’s superiority of numbers, they acknowledged that, if they had received one more fire from us, they should undoubtedly have given way. So valiantly did our small party fight, that, to the memory of those who unfortunately fell in the battle, enough of honour cannot be said. Had Col. Logan and his party been with us, it is highly probable we should have given the savages a total defeat.
I cannot reflect upon this dreadful scene, but sorrow fills my heart. A zeal for the defence of their country led these heroes to the scene of action, though with a few men to attack a powerful army of experienced warriors. When we gave way, they pursued us with the utmost eagerness, and in every quarter spread destruction. The river was difficult to cross, and many were killed in the flight, some just entering the river, some in the water, others after crossing in ascending the cliffs. Some escaped on horse-back, a few on foot; and, being dispersed every where, in a few hours, brought the melancholy news of this unfortunate battle to Lexington. Many widows were now made. The reader may guess what sorrow filled the hearts of the inhabitants, exceeding any thing that I am able to describe. Being reinforced, we returned to bury the dead, and found their bodies strewed every where, cut and mangled in a dreadful manner. This mournful scene exhibited a horror almost unparalleled: Some torn and eaten by wild beasts; those in the river eaten by fishes; all in such a putrified condition, that no one could be distinguished from another.
As soon as General Clark, then at the Falls of the Ohio, who was ever our ready friend, and merits the love and gratitude of all his countrymen, understood the circumstances of this unfortunate action, he ordered an expedition, with all possible haste, to pursue the savages, which was so expeditiously effected, that we overtook them within two miles of their towns, and probably might have obtained a great victory, had not two of their number met us about two hundred poles before we come up. These returned quick as lightning to their camp with the alarming news of a might army in view. The savages fled in the utmost disorder, evacuated their towns, and reluctantly left their territory to our mercy. We immediately took possession of Old Chelicothe without opposition, being deserted by its inhabitants. We continued our pursuit through five towns on the Miami rivers, Old Chelicothe, Pecaway, New Chelicothe, Will’s Towns, and Chelicothe, burnt them all to ashes, entirely destroyed their corn, and other fruits, and every where spread a scene of desolation in the country. In this expedition we took seven prisoners and five scalps, with the loss of only four men, two of whom were accidentally killed by our own army.
This campaign in some measure dampened the spirits of the Indians, and made them sensible of our superiority. Their connections were dissolved, their armies scattered, and a future invasion put entirely out of their power; yet they continued to practice mischief secretly upon the inhabitants, in the exposed parts of the country.
In October following, a party made an excursion into that district called the Crab Orchard, and one of them, being advanced some distance before the others, boldly entered the house of a poor defenceless family, in which was only a Negro man, a woman and her children, terrified with the apprehensions of immediate death. The savage, perceiving their defenceless situation, without offering violence to the family attempted to captivate the Negro, who, happily proved an over-match for him, threw him on the ground, and, in the struggle, the mother of the children drew an ax from a corner of the cottage, and cut his head off, while her little daughter shut the door. The savages instantly appeared, and applied their tomahawks to the door. An old rusty gun-barrel, without a lock, lay in a corner, which the mother put through a small crevice, and the savages, perceiving it, fled. In the mean time, the alarm spread through the neighbourhood; the armed men collected immediately, and pursued the savages into the wilderness. Thus Providence, by the means of this Negro, saved the whole of the poor family from destruction. From that time, until the happy return of peace between the United States and Great Britain, the Indians did us no mischief. Finding the great king beyond the water disappointed in his expectations, and conscious of the importance of the Long Knife, and their own wretchedness, some of the nations immediately desired peace; to which, at present, they seem universally disposed, and are sending ambassadors to General Clark, at the Falls of the Ohio, with the minutes of their Councils; a specimen of which, in the minutes of the Piankashaw Council, is subjoined.
To conclude, I can now say that I have verified the saying of an old Indian who signed Col. Henderson’s deed. Taking me by the hand, at the delivery thereof, Brother, says he, we have given you a fine land, but I believe you will have much trouble in settling it.—My footsteps have often been marked with blood, and therefore I can truly subscribe to its original name. Two darling sons, and a brother, have I lost by savage hands, which have also taken from me forty valuable horses, and abundance of cattle. Many dark and sleepless nights have I been a companion for owls, separated from the cheerful society of men, scorched by the Summer’s sun, and pinched by the Winter’s cold, an instrument ordained to settle the wilderness. But now the scene is changed: Peace crowns the sylvan shade.
What thanks, what ardent and ceaseless thanks are due to that all-superintending Providence which has turned a cruel war into peace, brought order out of confusion, made the fierce savages placid, and turned away their hostile weapons from our country! May the same Almighty Goodness banish the accursed monster, war, from all lands, with her hated associates, rapine and insatiable ambition. Let peace, descending from her native heaven, bid her olives spring amidst the joyful nations; and plenty, in league with commerce, scatter blessings from her copious hand.
This account of my adventures will inform the reader of the most remarkable events of this country.—I now live in peace and safety, enjoying the sweets of liberty, and the bounties of Providence, with my once fellow-sufferers, in this delightful country, which I have seen purchased with a vast expense of blood and treasure, delighting in the prospect of its being, in a short time, one of the most opulent and powerful states on the continent of North America; which, with the love and gratitude of my country-men, I esteem a sufficient reward for all my toil and dangers.