Sketches and eccentricities of Col. David Crockett, of West Tennessee

Preface

So fashionable has it become to write a preface, that, like an epitaph, it now records of its subject, not what it is, but what it ought to be. The mania for book-making has recently assumed an epidemic character, and, like the late pestilence, unaffected by all changes of weather, save that a murky evening generally aggravates its symptoms, it makes its attacks from quarters the least expected, and emanating fi?om beneath the dim light of some old rusty lamp, sheds abroad its sleepy, yawning influence. A book and preface are now considered indissoluble ; so much so, that to see a book without a preface would be as rare as to see a preface without a book. Yet some men have been so lost to all fashion, as to send forth the treasures of genius without this expected formality ; but as I do not aspire to that elevated niche in the temple of Fame, which such men have been allowed to occupy by universal consent, I must iv PREFACE.

permit my better feelings to predominate, and clothe my first-born babe in all suitable garments, before I turn her loose upon a heartless world. Were I to set her adrift without this necessary appendage, my heart would smite me ; and I should never meet a poor beggar, thinly clad, breasting the storms of winter, but that with sorrow I should think of the destitute condition of my pretty bantling.

Having thus resolved upon a preface, I will write as long as my humour prompts, or until the fit under which I am now labouring wears off.

It is perfectly ridiculous, in my opinion, for a man to write a book, which he believes calculated to interest, instruct, amuse, or, in the phrase of the trade, to take, and then sit down and write an elaborate apology for doing so : nor is it less absurd to ask favour from the hands of would-becritics — self-constituted judges of modern days — whose mere dictum creates a Hterary vassalage — ^beneath whose blighting influence, the finest specimens of genius, when linked with poverty, wither and die — and whose sole duty it is to blazon forth the fame of some one, whom public opinion has placed above them ; or, to puff* into notice another, who has money — not mind — enough to

PREFACE. V

carry him along. But, as regardless of this class of gentry as I am careful of my own comfort and convenience, I have really laboured under the impression, that, in writing for my own amusement, I had a right to select my topics and consequently I have been grave or merry, as my humour prompted.

At this time, when, in every ephemeral tale, a red hunter must be treacherous, brutal, savage, and accompanied with the tomahawk and scalping knife, I should perhaps offer some apology for speaking of them in a different light, in my introduction ; but my apology is — it was my pleasure to do so.

Gentle reader, I can promise you, in no part of this volume, the wild rhodomontades of " Bushfield ;" nor can I regale you with the still more delicate repast of a constant repetition of the terms '•''hodyadously^^ ^Hetotaciously" " ohjlisticated" &c. Though I have had much intercourse with the West, I have never met with a man who used such terms unless they were alluded to, as merely occupying a space in some printed work. They have, however, thus been made to enter, as a component part, into the character of every backwoodsman ; and, perhaps, I hazard something in

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leaving the common path ; but my duty commands it — and though the following memoir may wear an air of levity, it is, nevertheless, strictly true.

In describing backwoodsmen, it has become customary to clothe their most common ideas in high-sounding, unintelligible coinage — while my observation induces me to believe that their most striking feature is the fact, that they clothe the most extravagant ideas in the simplest language, and amuse us by their quaintness of expression, and originality of comparison. With these remarks I submit to you the Sketches and Eccentricities OF Colonel David Crockett.

I know there are those, who dwell in the splendid mansions of the east, and whose good fortune enables them to tread a Turkey carpet, or loll upon a sofa, to whom a faithful representation of the manners and customs of the "far off West," will afford a rich repast ; and there is another class for whom this volume will possess many charms, when I remark that it entertains for the " blue devils'* the most deep and deadly enmity. And, still farther, the learned, though they may see little to admire in the composition of this work, may yet find amusement in the peculiar eccentricities of an original mind : and the grave philosopher, also, is

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here presented with a subject of deep and lasting meditation.

Finally, most gentle reader, I hereby guaranty, that there shall not be found, in the volume before you, a single sentence, or a single word, calcuated to crimson the cheek of innocence, or give a license to vice.

Introduction

In giving to the public the biography of a celebrated backwoodsman, a brief sketch of the country in which he resides will not be deemed irrelevant. I am aware that much has been written upon this subject ; but it is a theme so fruitful in variety, that I hope, if I shall not be able to instruct, I shall at least entertain. The term " far off West" seems, from general usage, to apply only to that section of our country which lies between the Alleghany and Rocky mountains. In comparison with this vast region, other portions of the globe, which have delighted the world with the finest specimens of history, of poetry, of sculpture, and of painting, dwindle into insignificance with regard to magnitude. Here Fancy, in her playful flights, may call into being empires which have no existence ; and though perhaps sober reason would now chide her fairy creations, yet the time will come, when they will only be looked upon with the conviction of truth.

Oft, while seated upon the margin of the Mississippi river— the greatest curiosity on our globe — have I indulged in thought, until my brain reeled with the multitude of images which crowded upon it. When I reflected on the vast region comprised in the phrase "far off West" — when I recollected that all the water which fell and accumulated between the Alleghany on the east, and the Rocky mountains on the west, (a section of country thousands of miles in extent,) sought, by the same outlet, its passage to the ocean — and when I beheld at my feet, that passage, in a narrow muddy stream, winding smoothly rJong, I was struck with astonishment. I thought it ought to boil, and dash, and foam, and fret its way, in hurried search of the ocean. Although the Mississippi receives tributaries which are navigable for several thousand miles, yet its size is not at all apparently increased. Irregular, though smooth, it forces its circuitous way along — yet restless, and ever changing its bed, as if to relieve itself from the accumulating weight of waters. Frequently does it narrow itself to within less than a quarter of a mile. Then how incalculable must be its depth ! There are some portions of it very shallow ; but there are others, where no bottom has ever yet been found ; and could its waters be drained off, there would be left chasms into which the boldest would never dare look ; and in whose depths myriads of animals would crawl and flutter, which have never yet known the light of day !

The " far off" West" spreads before us every variety of climate — every species of soil. One would be more disposed to look upon it as a creation of fancy, than as possessing an actual existence. Here, roam and play their sportive tricks, over verdant fields, innumerable animals, whose feet are crimsoned with fruit, which the gods themselves would eat. Here, roving over our prairies, the weary hunter may repose on beds of flowers which give the blush to all the enchantment of city gardens. Here, while I am now writing, apart from the busy hum of men, how the events of a few years rise up before Yrt9\ The Past and Present both present themselves, and seek to gain my preference. The Past tells me that here, but a few years since, nature slept in primeval loveliness : her forests had never echoed to the sound of an axe ; her rivers had never been disturbed by the noise of a steamboat ; there was nothing to break in upon the stillness of evening, save the loud whoop of her children, the long howl of some hungry wolf, the wild scream of a famished panther, or the plaintive notes of some gentle turtle, weeping for one that's far away. " Yes," cried she, " here roamed my red men of the forest, free as the breezes which fanned their raven locks. Here, no bickerings disturbed their social intercourse — no right of property shed its baleful influence over their wild society — no white man was here to practise them in all the wiles of deception : — No — there was none. Here my young daughters of the forest have led on the mazy dance — here, have luxuriated in all the delightful emotions of innocent love. Here, some Indian w^arrior may have wooed his dusky bride. My heart grows sick when I think of all that was lovely which has left me."

" But," cries the Present, "the scene that I could sketch is still more beautiful. Though no long howl of the wolf now announces evening; though no famished panther wakes you at midnight — yet the repose of nature is now broken by music far more delightful. The noise of children just bursting out from school — the cheerful song of the milkmaid, as she performs her evening duties — or the loud crack of some driver, as he forces his weary oxen to their stalls, now tells us of the close of day. Once, only a canoe danced lightly over your waters: now, floating palaces adorn them, which realize all the gorgeous tales of eastern fancy, and with all their beauty blend the power of the magic carpet —

♦ Walk your waters like things of life, And seem to dare the elements to strife."*

The West presents much variety. Some of our cities, in beauty and in all the fascinations of a polished society, vie with those of the East ; while there are many portions where the wildness of nature and the first rudiments of society are struggling for the ascendency ; and there are still nisny more, where nature vet reposes in her loveliest form. The whole country spreads before us a field for speculation, only bounded by the limits of the human mind.

Every spot shows that it was once the abode of human beings,' who are now lounging idly about in the vale of eternity — not so small as the degenerate race of modern days, but majestic in size, and capable, according to scripture command, of managing the various species of the mammoth tribe — even those that were ligniverous,* whose ravenous appetite has clearly accounted for the want of timber on our great western prairies, and whose saliva, according to the MS. of a celebrated travelling antiquarian and great linguist, (which subsequent annotators seem to have overlooked) was of so subtle yet deadly a nature, that when apphed to a tree, it immediately diffused itself throughout its roots, and killed, for all future ages, the power to germinate.

We must ever regret that the same ingenious traveller did not inform us of their mode of eating this timber ; as henceforward it must be a matter of doubt. Was it corded up like steamboat wood and in that manner devoured ? Or did this ani mal, after the manner of the anaconda, render it.*>^ food slippery by means of saliva, and swallow i^ whole ? If this latter be the case, I am struck

* An Essay of much ingenuity and fancy, published in the West, accounts for the present existence of the prairies, by supposing the timber to liave been all devoured by an animal of tlie mammoth tribe !

with the analogy which this animal bears to the subject of my biography — for as my hero is the only person who could ever slip down a honeylocust without a scratch, so I presume that this is the only animal which has ever swallowed a tree of the same species, and received no inconvenience from its thorns. But believing, as I do implicitly, that man was placed at the head of affairs in this lower world, I have no doubt that the time has been, when men were so much larger than they now are, that a mammoth was swung up and butchered with the same ease that we would now butcher a sheep; and it requires no great stretch of imagination to conceive a gentleman of that day, after the manner of the French epicure in America, (who, having despatched a pig, asked the waiter if there were no more leetle hogs,) crying out " wataire ! have you no more leetle mammoths ?"

The multitude of tumuli, or Indian mounds, which every where present themselves, alone form a subject for deep meditation. The idea that they were used solely for burying places seems to me absurd, and were it now proper, I could adduce many arguments to the contrary. These tumuli, however, are found in all situations, of various heights, and different sizes ; sometimes insulated, at others linked together for an indefinite distance. In Arkansas and Missouri, you frequently meet with chains of these moundseast of the Mississippi, they are generally insulated, and now remain but as a memento of what once was. Sometimes they are surrounded by a ditch, now almost effaced from the decay of vegetable matter, which gives them the appearance of works thrown up for defence. But, for what they were intended — when they were built — what was their height — are all questions which cannot be answered. Tradition has never dared affix a date to any of them ; nor can any Indian tribe now in existence give any clew which will enable us to solve the mystery. Large trees growing on their tops have been felled, and their ages counted ; and though some of them would reckon years enough to be looked upon as the patriarchs of the forest, yet that gives no direct clew — for, how long the mounds were in existence before the trees grew up, we cannot tell.

In many places bones of the Aborigines yet whiten the soil : sometimes you meet with them so deposited as to leave Httle doubt that the last honours of war were once performed over them. How often, while travelling alone through our western forest, have I turned my horse loose to graze, and lolling upon one of those mounds indulged in meditation. Fancying it a depository for the dead, I have called before me all its inmates ; and they rose up of every grade from hoary age to infancy. There stood the chief of his tribe, with wisdom painted in his furrowed cheeks ; near him a warrior, in all the bloom of youth. There stood one, who, with all the burning fervour of eloquence, had incited his tribe to warlike deeds ; near him a blushing daughter of the forest, cut off while her beauties were just opening into day. And, to extend the picture, and view the wide expanse of the mighty West, methinks there rose up before me warriors of the forest, whose fame was once as fair as is now that of Hannibal or Csesar, Napoleon or Wellington. Yes, methinks, they each had a Cannae or a Pharsalia, an Austerlitz or a Waterloo.* Yes, how often here, have 1 wandered over fields which, perhaps, were once hallowed by the sacred blood of freedom, or which have been consecrated by deeds of high and lofty daring. Could the " far off West" give up its history, the chivalry of darker ages would have no votaries. But even the last remnant of this once great people is fast disappearing from the country. A few years more and not one will remain to tell what they once were. Thousands of them are at this time marching far "over the border." To see such a multitude of all ages, forced from a country which they have been taught to love as their " own native land" — to hear their wild lamentations at leaving the bones of all who were dear to them, to wander over a region which has for

* Those who take an interest in the history of the Indian warriors and other great men, will find Thatcher's «« Indian Biography" and «« Indian Traits," worthy of perusal.

them no tender recollections, touches all the finest chords of the human heart. Feelings of sympathy will ever kindle at the recollection of the fate of the Indians, whose history, at some future day may be read in the following brief epitaph :

«' Alas ! poor Yorick I"

Throughout the west innumerable prairies abound, (covered with every flower which can delight the senses,) either rolling like the gentle heavings of the ocean, or level as the surface of an unruffled lake. These form another subject of fruitful meditation ; at least with those (if any should be found) who doubt the existence of the Tree-eater. What has caused them ? Why do you meet with them of all sizes, (the richest land we have,) without a shrub, surrounded by dense forests? Why, as soon as the whites begin to graze them, do they spring up in a thick undergrowth, when if they do not graze them, they retain their former appearance ? Have they not been cultivated? Were they not plantations? And were not the inhabitants who once resided here, entirely destroyed by the Indian tribes who took possession ? Is not their present appearance owing to the fact that the Indians have burned them regularly since they were cultivated, in order to preserve them as pastures for their game ? 1 am aware that some of the prairies, from their great size, would seem at once to put an end to

B 2 these speculations. But, on the other hand, there are many proofs of the great antiquity of our country, and many convincing arguments that its former proprietors were much farther advanced in civilization than the present natives. In support of this position I will simply refer to a circumstance generally known, that in digging a well near Cincinnati, two stumps were found some sixty or seventy feet below the surface, which had been cut off by an axe, and upon one of which the remains of an axe were found. Further, to prove that its former proprietors were somewhat enlightened, I would remark that in digging a salt well at one of the licks near Shawneetown, IHinois, an octangular post was discovered some twenty feet below the surface, bored through precisely similar to that now used for a pump. Also, in the same state, a large rectangular smooth stone was found, covered with regular hieroglyphical characters. Coins, brick, and forts, the results of a certain degree of civilization, have been every where found.

That there were many prairies once in cultivation, many ingenious arguments may be brought to prove. These views are given, merely with a hope that they may induce an examination into this subject. I have already entered farther into speculation than the nature of this work demands, and shall be gratified if my suggestions call into action talents more suited to the task.

The country which I have but slightly sketched, in its wildest. state was the home of Boone, the great pioneer of the west, who now lives in sculpture in the rotunda of your capitol. In a frontier, and consequently less attractive state, it is now the home of David Crockett, whose humours have been spoken of in every portion of our country, and about whom there is less known than of any other individual who ever obtained so much notoriety. I intend no regular comparison between these two personages, for each will live while the " far off West" has a votary ; but I must run a parallel only for an instant. Each lived under the same circumstances : the one waged an eternal war with the Indians, and hunted game for recreation : the other waged an eternal war with the beasts of the forest, and served his country when his aid was wanted. Each could send the whizzing ball almost where he wished it. Mr. Knapp, in a beautiful sketch which he has given the world of Boone, mentions that frequently, to try his skill, *' he shot with a single ball the humming bird, as he sucked the opening flower, and spread his tiny wings and presented his exquisite colours to the sun ; and brought down the soaring eagle as he poised in majesty over his head, disdaining the power of this nether world." I cannot say that Col. Crockett has ever performed either of the above feats, but often have I seen him seated on the margin of a river, shooting with a single ball its scaly inmates, when only for an instant in wanton sport they glittered in the sun : the rifle cracked, and ever was there some little monster struggling on the top. The task of William Tell would give no pain ; for in idle sport does he sometimes shoot a dollar from between the finger and thumb of a brother, or plant his balls between his fingers as pleasure suits. In point of mind, Col. Crockett is decidedly Boone's superior. I do not found this remark on the authority of the common sketches of the day, which are little better than mere vagaries of the imagination, but gather my information from a gentleman who now knows Col. Crockett, and who, with Boone for a companion, has often hunted the buflfalo on the plains of Kentucky.

The country which it falls to my lot most particularly to describe, is the western district of Tennessee ; and of that, to me, the most interesting spot, was Col. Crockett's residence. There, far retired from the bustle of the world, he lives, and chews, for amusement, the cud of his political life. He has settled himself over the grave of an earthquake, which often reminds him of the circumstance by moving itself as if tired of confinement. The wild face of the country — the wide chasms — the new formed lakes, together with its great loneliness, render it interesting in the extreme to the traveller. But above all, the simplicity and great hospitality of its thinly scattered inhabitants, make one turn to it with pleasure who nas ever visited if. The many stories in circulation of deadly struggles with wild animals, and the great distance sometimes found between settlements, create in this country much interest for the traveller; but for a more particular history of these things I refer you, gentle reader, to the following pages.

SKETCHES AND ECCENTRICITIES

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COLONEL DAVID CROCKETT.

Chapter I

David Crockett, the subject of the following pages, was born at the mouth of the Lime-stone River, in Greene County, East Tennessee, on the 17th of August, in the year 1786. His father's name was John Crockett, of Irish descent, if not a native of Ireland ; there appears to be some doubt whether he was born in the Emerald Isle, or on board the ship in which his parents crossed the Atlantic. He fought in the Revolutionary War, and is described as possessing much of that fearless courage which forms so conspicuous a trait in the character of his son.

The time of John Crockett's removal to Tennessee is not ascertained ; but whenever it was, he found it a season of trouble and danger. The Indians, always unpleasant neighbours upon the frontier, were at that time a great plague to the settlers ; and to the Crocketts among the number. Both the parents of John Crockett were murdered by the Creeks ; and at the same time his brother

Joseph was wounded, and James, another brother, was made prisoner and carried away into captivity, from which he was not restored until more than seventeen years afterward, when he was ransomed by his brothers. He was deaf and dumb, and is still, or at least, was very lately, living in Kentucky.

David was the youngest but one of six sons ; and he has been heard, half in jest and half seriously, to lament that he had not been born the seventh instead of the fifth son, in which case he would have been sure of becoming a great doctor, at least, and that without any study or trouble ; a natural doctor as some call it ; and then he would have been at full liberty to cut, slash, physic, tinker, and kill, without any prejudice to his reputation. Your natural doctors are never wrong, let them commit as many and as gross blunders as they may think proper. But the fates had decreed that David Crockett should be something more than a bad patcher of constitutions, and so he was brought into the world before, and not after his younger brother.

Until David was seven years old, his father, although not by any means rich, was in comfortable circumstances, and doing well in the world : but about that time he met with a heavy misfortune, which stripped him of almost every thing he possessed. This was the destruction of a mill which he had just built in partnership with another man named Gal breath, at the mouth of Cove Creek : it was all but finished when a terrible freshet came down, sweeping before it everything that stood in its way : among the rest, the new mill was carried off as clean as a pasture-lot; and it left Mr. Crockett as poor as any good Christian could well desire. Being thus cleaned out, he removed to Jefferson County, and opened a small public house on the road between Knoxville and Abingdon.

Here David remained, helping his father as well as he could, till he was about twelve years old, when it chanced that an old Dutchman, named Siler, stopped at his father's house on his way to Virginia, with a large drove of cattle.

To him David was hired, and at the early age of twelve years he was sent four hundred miles from home, to knock about for himself He was treated with much kindness, and his activity and shrewdness soon made him a favourite with the old Dutchman. But after a while the thoughts of home became too strong, and having asked and been refused permission to return, he resolved to run away, at all hazards : the opportunity was not long wanting.

It chanced one day, that among the wagoners who were daily passing near his employers residence, he recognized one named Dunn, who had been in the habit of stopping at his father's house to him he made himself known, and also hi< desire to go back to his parents ; and it Vv^as agreed that he should elope from the Dutchman's house that night, and join the friendly wagoner, who was then on his way to Tennessee, at his encampment in the morning. Elate with hope, he went about his business as usual ; and having succeeded in bundling up his clothes, and conveying them unnoticed to the stable, he retired to bed at the same time with the remainder of the family. At about two o'clock in the morning he arose and left the house, and groping his way to the stable, he obtained his bundle, and was now on his way to the camp of the wagoner, which was about seven miles distant. The night was extremely cold, and snow was falling in abundance ; but nothing could prevail against his ardent longing for home, and soon after daylight he reached the appointed place of meeting, but almost chilled and numbed to death. His friend, the wagoner, received him with kindness, and paid him every attention which his situation required, making him drink whiskey freely, and by degrees restoring w armth and circulation to his almost frozen limbs. He also quieted his fears about being overtaken by his master, promised him protection, and convinced him, by the fact that the snow was still falling, that no trace could be left of his escape, the prints of his feet being filled up almost as fast as created. He soon became a favourite with the wagoners, spent his time pleasantly, and arrived in safety at his father's, whom he satisfied for having left his first master.

Here he remained for nearly a year assisting his father, but not doing much good for himself either in education or morals., As the winter approached, his father determined to send him to school ; but before his first week was out, he had a quarrel with one of his schoolfellows, on whom he bestowed a suflicient flogging. The consequence was, that he dared not present himself at the school again, for fear that the master should serve him the same : he played truant, accordingly, for several days, lurking about in the woods all day, till at last the affair came to the ears of his father, whose wrath was so fiercely aroused that David concluded the best thing he could do was to run away. He did so, and hired himself to a cattle merchant who was just setting out for western Yirginia.