My father and mother had six sons and three daughters. I was the fifth son. What a pity I hadn’t been the seventh! For then I might have been, by common consent, called doctor, as a heap of people AutobiogrAphy of DAvy CroCkett 7 get to be great men. But, like many of them, I stood no chance to become great in any other way than by accident. As my father was very poor, and living as he did far back in the back woods, he had neither the means nor the opportunity to give me, or any of the rest of his children, any learning.
But before I get on the subject of my own trou bles, and a great many very funny things that have happened to me, like all other historians and bioagraphers, I should not only inform the public that I was born, myself, as well as other folks, but that this important event took place, according to the best information I have received on the sub ject, on the 17th of August, in the year 1786; whether by day or night, I believe I never heard, but if I did I, have forgotten. I suppose, however, it is not very material to my present purpose, nor to the world, as the more important fact is well attested that I was born; and indeed it might be inferred, from my present size and appearance, that I was pretty well born, though I have never yet attached myself to that numerous and worthy society.
At that time my father lived at the mouth of Lime Stone, on the Nola-chucky river; and for the purpose not only of showing what sort of a man I now am, but also to show how soon I began to be a sort of a little man, I have endeavoured to take the back track of life, in order to fix on the first thing that I can remember. But even then, as now, so many things were happening, that as Major Jack Downing would say, they are all in “a pretty considerable of a snarl,” and I find it “kinder hard” to fix on that thing, among them all, which really happened first. But I think it likely I have hit on the outside line of my recollection; as one thing happened at which I was so badly scared that it seems to me I could not have forgotten it if it had happened a little time only after I was born. Therefore it furnishes me with no certain evidence of my age at the time; but I know one thing very well and that is that when it happened, I had no knowledge of the use of breeches, for I had never had any nor worn any.
But the circumstance was this: My four elder brothers, and a well-grown boy of about fifteen years old by the name of Campbell, and myself, were all playing on the river’s side when all the rest of them got into my father’s canoe and put out to amuse themselves on the water, leaving me on the shore alone.
Just a little distance below them, there was a fall in the river, which went slap-right straight down. My brothers, though they were little fel lows, had been used to paddling the canoe and could have carried it safely anywhere about there; but this fellow Campbell wouldn’t let them have the paddle, but, fool like, undertook to ma nage it himself. I reckon he had never seen a water craft before and it went just any way but the way he wanted it. There he paddled and paddled and paddled, all the while going wrong, until, in a short time, here they were all going, straight forward, stern foremost, right plump to the falls; and if they had only had a fair shake, they would have gone over as slick as a whistle. It wasn’t this, though, that seared me; for I was so infernal mad that they had left me on the shore that I had as soon have seen them all go over the falls a bit, as any other way. But their danger was seen by a man by the name of Kendall, but I’ll be shot if it was Amos; for I believe I would know him if I was to see him. This man Kendall was working in a field on the bank and knowing there was no time to lose, he started full tilt, and here he come like a cane brake afire and as he ran, he threw off his coat, and then his jacket, and then his shirt, for I know when he got to the water he had nothing on but his breeches. But seeing him in such a hurry, and tearing off his clothes as he went, I had no doubt but that the devil or something else was after him, and close on him, too, as he was running within an inch of his life. This alarmed me and I screamed out like a young painter. But Kendall didn’t stop for this. He went ahead with all might, and as full bent on saving the boys, as Amos was on moving the deposits. When he came to the wa ter he plunged in, and where it was too deep to wade he would swim, and where it was shallow enough he went bolting on; and by such exertion as I never saw at any other time in my life, he reached the canoe, when it was within twenty or thirty feet of the falls; and so great was the suck and so swift the current, that poor Ken dall had a hard time of it to stop them at last, as Amos will to stop the mouths of the people about his stockjobbing. But he hung on to the canoe, till he got it stop’d, and then draw’d it out of danger. When they got out, I found the boys were more scared than I had been, and the only thing that comforted me was the belief that it was a punishment on them for leaving me on shore.
Shortly after this, my father removed and settled in the same county about ten miles above Greenville.
Then another circumstance happened which made a lasting impression on my memory, though I was but a small child. Joseph Haw kins, who was a brother to my mother, was in the woods hunting for deer. He was passing near a thicket of brush in which one of our neighbours was gathering some grapes, as it was in the fall of the year and the grape season. The body of the man was hid by the brush and it was only as he would raise his hand to pull the bunches that any part of him could be seen. It was a likely place for deer and my uncle, having no suspicion that it was any human being, but supposing the raising of the hand to be the occasional twitch of a deer’s ear, fired at the lump and, as the devil would have it, un fortunately shot the man through the body. I saw my father draw a silk handkerchief through the bullet hole, and entirely through his body; yet after a while he got well, as little as any one would have thought it. What become of him, or whether he is dead or alive, I don’t know; but I reckon he did’ent fancy the business of ga thering grapes in an out-of-the-way thicket soon again.
The next move my father made was to the mouth of Cove creek where he and a man by the name of Thomas Galbreath undertook to build a mill in partnership. They went on very well with their work until it was nigh done, when there came the second epistle to Noah’s fresh and away went their mill, shot, lock, and barrel. I remember the water rose so high, that it got up into the house we lived in and my father moved us out of it to keep us from being drowned. I was now about seven or eight years old, and have a pretty distinct recollection of every thing that was going on. From his bad luck in that bu siness, and being ready to wash out from mill building, my father again removed and this time settled in Jefferson county, now in the state of Tennessee; where he opened a tavern on the road from Abbingdon to Knoxville.
His tavern was on a small scale, as he was poor, and the principal accommodations which he kept were for the waggoners who travelled the road. Here I remained with him until I was twelve years old and about that time, you may guess, if you belong to Yankee land, or reckon if, like me, you belong to the backwoods, that I began to make up my acquaintance with hard times and a plenty of them.
An old Dutchman by the name of Jacob Siler, who was moving from Knox county to Rock bridge, in the state of Virginia, in passing, made a stop at my father’s house. He had a large stock of cattle that he was carrying on with him and I suppose made some proposition to my father to hire someone to assist him.
Being hard run every way and having no thought, as I believe, that I was cut out for a Congressman or the like, young as I was, and as little as I knew about travelling or being from home, he hired me to the old Dutchman to go four hundred miles on foot with a perfect stranger that I never had seen until the evening before. I set out with a heavy heart, it is true, but I went ahead until we arrived at the place which was three miles from what is called the Natural Bridge, and made a stop at the house of a Mr. Hartley, who was father-in-law to Mr. Siler, who had hired me. My Dutch master was very kind to me and he gave me five or six dollars, being pleased, as he said, with my services.
This, however, I think was a bait for me, as he persuaded me to stay with him and not return any more to my father. I had been taught so many lessons of obedience by my fath
er that I at first supposed I was bound to obey this man, or at least I was afraid openly to disobey him; and I therefore stayed with him and tried to put on a look of perfect contentment until I got the family all to believe I was fully satisfied. I had been there about four or five weeks when one day my self and two other boys were playing on the road side some distance from the house. There came along three waggons. One belonged to an old man by the name of Dunn and the others to two of his sons. They had each of them a good team, and were all bound for Knoxville. They had been in the habit of stopping at my father’s as they passed the road and I made my self known to the old gentleman and informed him of my situation. I expressed a wish to get back to my father and mother, if they could fix any plan for me to do so. They told me that they would stay that night at a tavern seven miles from there, and that if I could get to them before day the next morning they would take me home. This was a Sunday evening. I went back to the good old Dutchman’s house and, as good fortune would have it, he and the family get out on a visit. I gathered my clothes and whatever money I had and put them all together under the head of my bed. I went to bed early that night, but sleep seemed to be a stranger to me. For though I was a wild boy, I dearly loved my father and mother and their images appeared to be so deeply fixed in my mind that I could not sleep for thinking of them. And then the fear that when I should attempt to go out and be discovered and called to a halt, filled me with anxiety. Between my childish love of home, on the one hand, and the fears of which I have spoken, on the other, I felt mighty queer.
But so it was, about three hours before day in the morning I got up to make my start. When I got out, I found it was snowing fast and that the snow was then on the ground about eight inches deep. I had not even the advantage of moonlight and the whole sky was hid by the falling snow so that I had to guess at my way to the big road which was about a half mile from the house. I however pushed ahead and soon got to it, and then pursued it, in the direction to the waggons.
I could not have pursued the road if I had not guided myself by the opening it made between the timber, as the snow was too deep to leave any part of it to be known by either seeing or feeling.
Before I overtook the waggons, the earth was covered about as deep as my knees and my tracks filled so briskly after me, that by daylight, my Dutch master could have seen no trace which I left.
I got to the place about an hour before day. I found the waggoners already stirring and engaged in feeding and preparing their horses for a start. Mr. Dunn took me in and treated me with great kindness. My heart was more deeply impressed by meeting with such a friend and at such a time than by wading the snow-storm by night, or all the other sufferings which my mind had endured. I warmed myself by the fire, for I was very cold, and after an early breakfast, we set out on our journey. The thoughts of home now be gan to take the entire possession of my mind and I almost numbered the sluggish turns of the wheels, and much more certainly the miles of our travel, which appeared to me to count mighty slow. I continued with my kind protectors until we got to the house of a Mr. John Cole on Roanoke, when my impatience became so great that I determined to set out on foot and go ahead by myself, as I could travel twice as fast in that way as the waggons could.
Mr. Dunn seemed very sorry to part with me and used many arguments to prevent me from leaving him. But home, poor as it was, again rushed on my memory and it seemed ten times as dear to me as it ever had before. The reason was that my parents were there and all that I had been accustomed to in the hours of childhood and infancy was there; and there my anxious little heart panted also to be. We remained at Mr. Coles that night, and early in the morning I felt that I couldn’t stay; so, taking leave of my friends the waggoners, I went forward on foot, until I was fortunately overtaken by a gentleman who was returning from market, to which he had been with a drove of horses. He had a led horse, with a bridle and saddle on him and he kindly offered to let me get on his horse and ride him. I did so, and was glad of the chance, for I was tired, and was, moreover, near the first crossing of Roanoke, which I would have been compelled to wade, cold as the water was, if I had not fortunately met this good man. I travelled with him in this way without any thing turning up worth recording, until we got within fifteen miles of my father’s house. There we parted, and he went on to Kentucky and I trudged on homeward, which I reached that evening. The name of this kind gentleman I have entirely forgotten and I am sorry for it, for it deserves a high place in my little book. A remembrance of his kindness to a little straggling boy, and a stranger to him, has however a resting place in my heart, and there it will remain as long as I live.
HAVING gotten home, as I have just related, I remained with my father until the next fall, at which time he took it into his head to send me to a little country school which was kept in the neighbourhood by a man whose name was Benjamin Kitchen; though I believe he was no way connected with the cabinet. I went four days and had just began to learn my letters a little when I had an unfortunate falling out with one of the scholars, a boy much larger and older than myself. I knew well enough that though the school-house might do for a still hunt, it wouldn’t do for a drive, and so I concluded to wait until I could get him out, and then I was determined to give him salt and vinegar. I waited till in the evening, when the larger scholars were spelling, I slip’d out and, going some distance along his road, I lay by the way-side in the bushes waiting for him to come along. After a while he and his company came on sure enough and I pitched out from the bushes and set on him like a wild cat. I scratched his face all to a flitter jig and soon made him cry out for quar ters in good earnest. The fight being over, I went on home and the next morning start ed again to school; but do you think I went? No, indeed. I was very clear of it; for I ex pected the master would lick me up, as bad as I had the boy. So, instead of going to the school-house, I laid out in the woods all day until in the evening the scholars were dismissed, and my brothers, who were also going to school, came along, returning home. I wanted to conceal this whole business from my father, and I therefore persuaded them not to tell on me, which they agreed to.
Things went on in this way for several days; I starting with them to school in the morning and returning with them in the evening, but lying out in the woods all day. At last, however, the mas ter wrote a note to my father, inquiring why I was not sent to school. When he read this note, he called me up, and I knew very well that I was in a devil of a hobble, for my father had been taking a few horns, and was in a good condition to make the fur fly. He called on me to know why I had not been at school? I told him I was afraid to go and that the master would whip me; for I knew quite well if I was turned over to this old Kitchen, I should be cooked up to a cracklin in little or no time. But I soon found that I was not to expect a much better fate at home; for my father told me, in a very angry manner, that he would whip me an eternal sight worse than the master if I didn’t start immediately to the school. I tried again to beg off but nothing would do but to go to the school. Finding me rather too slow about starting, he gathered about a two year old hickory and broke after me. I put out with all my might and soon we were both up to the top of our speed. We had a tolerable tough race for about a mile; but mind me, not on the school-house road, for I was trying to get as far the t’other way as possible. And I yet believe if my father and the schoolmaster could both have levied on me about that time, I should never have been called on to sit in the councils of the na tion, for I think they would have used me up. But fortunately for me, about this time, I saw just before me a hill over which I made headway like a young steamboat. As soon as I had passed over it, I turned to one side and hid myself in the bushes. Here I waited until the old gentleman passed by, puffing and blowing, as tho’ his steam was high enough to burst his boilers. I waited until he gave up the hunt and passed back again. I then cut out and went to the house of an ac quaintance who was just about to start with a drove. His name was Jesse Cheek, and I hired myself to go with him, determining not to return ho
me, as home and the school-house had both become too hot for me. I had an elder brother, who also hired to go with the same drove. We set out and went on through Abbingdon, and the county seat of Withe county, in the state of Virginia; and then through Lynchburgh, by Orange court-house, and Charlottesville, passing through what was called Chester Gap, on to a town called Front Royal, where my employer sold out his drove to a man by the name of Vanmetre; and I was started homeward again in company with a brother of the first owner of the drove with one horse between us, having left my bro ther to come on with the balance of the company.
I traveled on with my new comrade about three days journey but much to his discredit, as I then thought and still think, he took care all the time to ride but never to tie. At last I told him to go ahead, and I would come when I got ready. He gave me four dollars to bear my expenses upwards of four hundred miles and then cut out and left me.
I purchased some provisions and went on slowly until at length I fell in with a waggoner with whom I was disposed to scrape up a hasty acquaintance. I inquired where he lived and where he was going and all about his affairs. He informed me that he lived in Greenville, Tennessee, and was on his way to a place called Gerardstown, fifteen miles below Winchester. He also said that after he should make his journey to that place, he would immediately return to Tennessee. His name was Adam Myers and a jolly good fellow he seemed to be. On a little reflection, I de termined to turn back and go with him, which I did; and we journeyed on slowly as waggons commonly do, but merrily enough. I often thought of home and, indeed, wished bad enough to be there; but, when I thought of the school-house and Kitchen, my master and the race with my father and the big hickory he carried, and of the fierceness of the storm of wrath that I had left him in, I was afraid to venture back. For I knew my father’s nature so well that I was certain his anger would hang on to him like a turkle does to a fisher-man’s toe and that if I went back in a hurry, he would give me the devil in three or four ways. But I and the waggoner had traveled two days when we met my brother, who, I before stated, I had left behind when the drove was sold out. He persuaded me to go home but I refused. He pressed me hard and brought up a great many mighty strong arguments to induce me to turn back again. He pictured the pleasure of meeting my mother and my sisters, who all loved me dearly, and told me what uneasiness they had al ready suffered about me. I could not help shedding tears, which I did not often do, and my affections all pointed back to those dearest friends and, as I thought, nearly the only ones I had in the world. But then the promised whipping—that was the thing. It came right slap down on every thought of home; and I finally determined that make or break, hit or miss, I would just hang on to my journey, and go ahead with the waggoner. My brother was much grieved at our parting, but he went his way and so did I. We went on until at last we got to Gerardstown where the waggoner tried to get a back load but could not without going to Alexandria. He engaged to go there and I concluded that I would wait until he re turned. I set in to work for a man by the name of John Gray, at twenty-five cents per day. My labour, however, was light, such as ploughing in some small grain, in which I succeeded in pleasing the old man very well. I continued working for him until the waggoner got back and for a good long time afterwards as he continued to run his team back and forward, hauling to and from Baltimore. In the next spring, from the proceeds of my daily labour, small as it was, I was able to get me some decent clothes and concluded I would make a trip with the waggoner to Balti more and see what sort of a place that was and what sort of folks lived there. I gave him the balance of what money I had for safe keeping, which, as well as I recollect, was about seven dol lars. We got on well enough until we came near Ellicott’s Mills. Our load consisted of flour in barrels.
An Autobiography of Davy Crockett Page 2