It is true, I had a little rather not; but yet if the government can’t get on without taking another president from Tennessee, to finish the work of “retrenchment and reform,” why then, I reckon I must go in for it. But I must begin about the war, and leave the other matter for the people to begin on.
The Creek Indians had commenced their open hostilities by a most bloody butchery at Fort Mimms. There had been no war among us for so long, that but few who were not too old to bear arms, knew anything about the business. I, for one, had often thought about war and had often heard it described and I did verily be lieve in my own mind that I couldn’t fight in that way at all; but after my experience con vinced me that this was all a notion. For when I heard of the mischief which was done at the fort, I instantly felt like going and I had none of the dread of dying that I expected to feel. In a few days a general meeting of the militia was called for the purpose of raising volunteers and when the day arrived for that meeting, my wife, who had heard me say I meant to go to the war, be gan to beg me not to turn out. She said she was a stranger in the parts where we lived, had no connexions living near her, and that she and our little children would be left in a lonesome and unhappy situation if I went away. It was mighty hard to go against such arguments as these but my countrymen had been murdered and I knew that the next thing would be, that the Indians would be scalping the women and children all about there if we didn’t put a stop to it. I rea soned the case with her as well as I could and told her that if every man would wait till his wife got willing for him to go to war, there would be no fighting done until we would all be killed in our own houses; that I was as able to go as any man in the world; and that I believed it was a duty I owed to my country. Whether she was satisfied with this reasoning or not, she did not tell me; but seeing I was bent on it, all she did was to cry a little and turn about to her work, The truth is, my dander was up, and nothing but war could bring it right again.
I went to Winchester where the muster was to be, and a great many people had collected, for there was as much fuss among the people about the war as there is now about moving the deposites. When the men were paraded, a lawyer by the name of Jones addressed us and closed by turning out himself, enquiring at the same time who among us felt like we could fight In dians? This was the same Mr. Jones who after wards served in Congress, from the state of Ten nessee. He informed us he wished to raise a company and that then the men should meet and elect their own officers. I believe I was about the second or third man that step’d out; but on marching up and down the regiment a few times, we found we had a large company We volun teered for sixty days, as it was supposed our services would not be longer wanted. A day or two after this we met and elected Mr. Jones our captain and also elected our other officers. We then received orders to start on the next Monday week; before which time I had fixed as well as I could to go and my wife had equip’d me as well as she was able for the camp. The time arrived and I took a parting farewell of my wife and my lit tle boys, mounted my horse and set sail to join my company. Expecting to be gone only a short time, I took no more clothing with me than I supposed would be necessary so that if I got into an Indian battle, I might not be pestered with any unnecessary plunder to prevent my having a fair shake with them. We all met and went ahead till we passed Huntsville and camped at a large spring called Beaty’s spring. Here we stayed for several days in which time the troops began to collect from all quarters. At last we mustered about thirteen hundred strong, all mounted volun teers and all determined to fight, judging from myself, for I felt wolfish all over. I verily be lieve the whole army was of the real grit. Our captain didn’t want any other sort and to try them he several times told his men that if any of them wanted to go back home they might do so at any time before they were regularly mustered into the service. But he had the honour to command all his men from first to last as not one of them left him.
Gen’l. Jackson had not yet left Nashville with his old foot volunteers that had gone with him to Natchez in 1812, the year before. While we re mained at the spring, a Major Gibson came and wanted some volunteers to go with him across the Tennessee river and into the Creek nation, to find out the movements of the Indians. He came to my captain and asked for two of his best woods men and such as were best with a rifle. The cap tain pointed me out to him and said he would be security that I would go as far as the major would himself, or any other man. I willingly engaged to go with him and asked him to let me choose my own mate to go with me which he said I might do. I chose a young man by the name of George Russell, a son of old Major Russell, of Tennessee. I called him up, but Major Gibson said he thought he hadn’t heard enough to please him, he want ed men and not boys. I must confess I was a lit tle nettled at this, for I know’d George Russell and I know’d there was no mistake in him and I didn’t think that courage ought to be measured by the beard for fear a goat would have the prefer ence over a man. I told the major he was on the wrong scent; that Russell could go as far as he could and that I must have him along. He saw I was a little wrathy and said I had the best chance of knowing and agreed that it should be as I wanted it. He told us to be ready early in the morning for a start and so we were. We took our camp equipage, mounted our horses and, thirteen in number, including the major, we cut out. We went on and crossed the Tennessee river at a place called Ditto’s Landing and then traveled about seven miles further and took up camp for the night. Here a man by the name of John Haynes overtook us. He had been an Indian trader in that part of the nation and was well ac quainted with it. He went with us as a pilot. The next morning, however, Major Gibson and myself concluded we should separate and take different directions to see what discoveries we could make; so he took seven of the men and I five, making thirteen in all, including myself. He was to go by the house of a Cherokee Indian named Dick Brown and I was to go by Dick’s father’s and, getting all the information we could, we were to meet that evening where the roads came together, fifteen miles the other side of Brown’s. At old Mr. Brown’s I got a half blood Cherokee to agree to go with me, whose name was Jack Thomp son. He was not then ready to start but was to fix that evening and overtake us at the fork road where I was to meet Major Gibson. I know’d it wouldn’t be safe to camp right at the road and so I told Jack that when he got to the fork he must holler like an owl and I would answer him in the same way; for I know’d it would be night before he got there. I and my men then started and went on to the place of meeting. Major Gibson was not there. We waited till almost dark but still he didn’t come. We then left the Indian trace a little distance and, turning into the head of a hollow, we struck up camp. It was about ten o’clock at night when I heard my owl and I answered him. Jack soon found us, and we determined to rest there during the night. We stayed also next morning till after breakfast but in vain, for the major didn’t still come.
I told the men we had set out to hunt a fight and that we must go ahead and see what the red men were at. We started and went to a Cherokee town about twenty miles off and, after a short stay there, we pushed on to the house of a man by the name of Radcliff. He was a white man but had married a Creek woman and lived just in the edge of the Creek nation. He had two sons, large likely fel lows, and a great deal of potatoes and corn and, indeed, almost every thing else to go on. We fed our horses and got dinner with him and seemed to be doing mighty well. But he was scared all the time. He told us there had been ten painted warriors at his house only an hour before and if we were discovered there, they would kill us and his family. I replied to him that my business was to hunt for just such fellows as he had described and I was de termined not to go back until I had done it. Our dinner being over, we saddled up our horses and made ready to start. But some of my small company I found were disposed to return. I told them if we were to go back then, we should never hear the last of it and I was determined to go ahead. I knowed some of them would go with me and that the rest were afraid to go back by themselves and so we pushed on to the camp of some of the friendly C
reeks, which was dis tant about eight miles. The moon was full and the night was clear. We therefore had the benefit of her light from night to morning and I knew if we were placed in such danger as to make a retreat necessary, we could travel by night as well as in the day time.
We had not gone very far when we met two negroes, well mounted on Indian ponies, and each with a good rifle. They had been taken from their owners by the Indians and were running away from them, trying to get back to their masters again. They were brothers, both very large and likely, and could talk Indian as well as English. One of them I sent on to Ditto’s Landing, the other I took back with me. It was after dark when we got to the camp where we found about forty men, women, and children.
They had bows and arrows and I turned in to shooting with their boys by a pine light. In this way we amused ourselves very well for a while but at last the negro, who had been talking to the Indians, came to me and told me they were very much alarmed, for the “red sticks,” as they called the war party of the Creeks, would come and find us there and, if so, we should all be killed. I directed him to tell them that I would watch, and if one would come that night, I would carry the skin of his head home to make me a mockasin. When he made this communication, the Indians laughed aloud. At about ten o’clock at night we all concluded to try to sleep a little but that our horses might be ready for use, as the treasurer said of the drafts on the United States’ bank, on certain “Contingences,” we tied them up with our saddles on them and every thing to our hand if in the night our quarters should get uncomfortable.
We lay down with our guns in our arms and I had just gotten into a dose of sleep when I heard the sharpest scream that ever escaped the throat of a human creature. It was more like a wrathy painter than any thing else. The negro understood it and he sprang to me; for tho’ I heard the noise well enough, yet I wasn’t wide awake enough to get up. So the negro caught me and said the red sticks was coming. I rose quicker then and asked what was the matter? Our negro had gone and talked with the Indian who had just fetched the scream as he come into camp and learned from him that the war party had been crossing the Coosa river all day at the Ten islands; and were going on to meet Jack son and this Indian had come as a runner. This news very much alarmed the friendly Indians in camp and they were all off in a few minutes. I felt bound to make this intelligence known as soon as possible to the army we had left at the landing and so we all mounted our horses and put out in a long loop to make our way back to that place. We were about sixty-five miles off. We went on to the same Cherokee town we had visited on our way out, having first called at Radclaff ’s, who was off with his family. At the the town we found large fires burning but not a single Indian was to be seen. They were all gone. These circumstances were calculated to lay our dander a little, as it appeared we must be in great danger; though we could easily have licked any force of not more than five to one. But we ex pected the whole nation would be on us and against such fearful odds we were not so rampant for a fight.
We therefore stayed only a short time in the light of the fires about the town, preferring the light of the moon and the shade of the woods. We pushed on till we got again to old Mr. Brown’s, which was still about thirty miles from where we had left the main army. When we got there, the chickens were just at the first crowing for day. We fed our horses, got a morsel to eat ourselves, and again cut out. About ten o’clock in the morning we reached the camp and I reported to Colonel Coffee the news. He didn’t seem to mind my report a bit and this raised my dander higher than ever but I knowed I had to be on my best behaviour, so I kept it all to myself, though I was so mad that I was burning inside like a tarkiln and I wonder that the smoke hadn’t been pouring out of me at all points.
Major Gibson hadn’t yet returned and we all began to think he was killed and that night they put out a double guard. The next day the major got in and brought a worse tale than I had, though he stated the same facts, so far as I went. This seemed to put our colonel all in a fidget and it convinced me, clearly, of one of the hateful ways of the world. When I made my report, it wasn’t believed because I was no officer; I was no great man but just a poor soldier. But when the same thing was reported by Major Gibson why, then, it was all as true as preaching and the colonel be lieved it every word.
He, therefore, ordered breastworks to be thrown up near a quarter of a mile long and sent an ex press to Fayetteville, where General Jackson and his troops was, requesting them to push on like the very mischief for fear we should all be cooked up to a cracklin before they could get there. Old Hickory-face made a forced march on getting the news and, on the next day, he and his men got into camp with their feet all blistered from the effects of their swift journey. The volunteers, therefore, stood guard altogether to let them rest.
ABOUT eight hundred of the volunteers, and of that number I was one, were now sent back crossing the Tennessee river and on through Huntsville so as to cross the river again at another place to get the Indians in another direction. After we passed Huntsville, we struck on the river at the Muscle Shoals and at a place called Melton’s Bluff. This river here is about two miles wide and a rough bottom; so much so, as to be dangerous. We left several of the horses belonging to our men, with their feet fast in the crevices of the rocks. The men, whose horses were thus left, went ahead on foot. We pushed on till we got to what was called the Black War rior’s town, which stood near the very spot where Tuscaloosa now stands, which is the seat of go vernment for the state of Alabama.
This Indian town was a large one but when we arrived we found the Indians had all left it. There was a large field of corn standing out and a pretty good supply in some cribs. There was also a fine quantity of dried beans, which were very acceptable to us; and without delay we secured them as well as the corn and then burned the town to ashes, after which we left the place.
In the field where we gathered the corn we saw plenty of fresh Indian tracks and we had no doubt they had been scared off by our arrival.
We then went on to meet the main army at the fork road where I was first to have met Major Gibson. We got that evening as far back as the encampment we had made the night before we reached the Black Warrior’s town, which had been destroyed. The next day we were entirely out of meat. I went to Col. Coffee, who was then in command of us, and asked his leave to hunt as we marched. He gave me leave, but told me to take mighty good care of myself. I turned aside to hunt, and had not gone far when I found a deer that had just been killed and skinned, and his flesh was still warm and smoking. From this I was sure that the Indian who had killed it had been gone only a very few minutes and though I was never much in favour of one hunter stealing from another, yet meat was so scarce in camp, that I thought I must go in for it. So I just took up the deer on my horse before me, and carried it on till night. I could have sold it for almost any price I would have asked; but this wasn’t my rule, neither in peace nor war. Whenever I had any thing and saw a fellow suffering, I was more anxious to relieve him than to benefit my self. And this is one of the true secrets of my being a poor man to this day. But it is my way; and while it has often left me with an empty purse, which is as near the devil as any thing else I have seen, yet it has never left my heart empty of consolations which money couldn’t buy,—the conso lations of having sometimes fed the hungry and covered the naked.
I gave all my deer away except a small part I kept for myself and just sufficient to make a good supper for my mess; for meat was getting to be a rarity to us all. We had to live mostly on parched corn. The next day we marched on and at night took up camp near a large cane brake. While here, I told my mess I would again try for some meat so I took my rifle and cut out, but hadn’t gone far when I discovered a large gang of hogs. I shot one of them down in his tracks and the rest broke directly towards the camp. In a few minutes, the guns began to roar as bad as if the whole army had been in an Indian battle; the hogs to squealing as bad as the pig did. I shoul dered my hog, and went on to the camp and when I got there I
found they had killed a good many of the hogs and a fine fat cow that had broke out of the cane brake. We did very well that night and the next morning marched on to a Cherokee town, where our officers stop’d and gave the inhabitants an order on Uncle Sam for their cow and the hogs we had killed. The next day we met the main army having had, as we thought, hard times and a plenty of them, though we had yet seen hardly the beginning of trouble.
After our meeting we went on to Radcliff ’s, where I had been before while out as a spy; and when we got there, we found he had hid all his provisions. We also got into the secret, that he was the very rascal who had sent the runner to the Indian camp with the news that the “red sticks” were crossing at the Ten Islands and that his object was to scare me and my men away, and send us back with a false alarm.
To make some atonement for this, we took the old scroundrell’s two big sons with us and made them serve in the war.
We then marched to a place which we called Camp Wills and here it was that Captain Cannon was promoted to a colonel and Colonel Coffee to a general. We then marched to the Ten Islands on the Coosa river where we established a fort and our spy companies were sent out. They soon made prisoners of Bob Catala and his warriors and, in a few days afterwards, we heard of some Indians in a town about eight miles off. So we mounted our horses and put out for that town under the direction of two friendly Creeks we had taken for pilots. We had also a Cherokee colonel, Dick Brown, and some of his men with us. When we got near the town we divided; one of our pilots going with each division. And so we passed on each side of the town, keeping near to it, until our lines met on the far side. We then closed up at both ends so as to surround it completely and then we sent Captain Ham mond’s company of rangers to bring on the af fray. He had advanced near the town, when the Indians saw him, and they raised the yell and came running at him like so many red devils. The main army was now formed in a hollow square around the town and they pursued Ham mond till they came in reach of us. We then gave them a fire, and they returned it, and then ran back into their town. We began to close on the town by making our files closer and closer, and the Indians soon saw they were our pro perty. So most of them wanted us to take them prisoners and their squaws and all would run and take hold of any of us they could and give themselves up. I saw seven squaws have hold of one man, which made me think of the Scrip tures. So I hollered out the Scriptures was ful filling, that there was seven women holding to one man’s coat tail. But I believe it was a hunting-shirt all the time. We took them all prison ers that came out to us in this way but I saw some warriors run into a house until I counted forty-six of them. We pursued them until we got near the house when we saw a squaw sitting in the door. She placed her feet against the bow she had in her hand and then took an arrow and, raising her feet, she drew with all her might and let fly at us and she killed a man whose name, I believe, was Moore. He was a lieutenant and his death so enraged us all that she was fired on and had at least twenty balls blown through her. This was the first man I ever saw killed with a bow and ar row. We now shot them like dogs and then set the house on fire and burned it up with the forty-six warriors in it. I recollect seeing a boy who was shot down near the house. His arm and thigh was broken and he was so near the burning house that the grease was stewing out of him. In this situation he was still trying to crawl along but not a murmur escaped him, though he was only about twelve years old. So sullen is the Indian when his dander is up that he had sooner die than make a noise or ask for quarters.
An Autobiography of Davy Crockett Page 5