As soon as I had passed over it, I turned to one side, and hid myself in the bushes. 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 a few miles oflf, 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 home, 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 com- pany.
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.
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.
A narrative of the life of David Crockett ..
His name was Adam Myers, and a jolly good fel- low 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 com- monly 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 fisherman's toe, and that, if I went back in a hurry, he would give me the devil in three or four ways 34 THE LIFE OF 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. 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 he 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. 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. Here I got into the waggon for the pur- pose of changing my clothing, not thinking that I was in any danger ; but while I was in there we were met by some wheel-barrow men, who were working on the road, and the horses took a scare and away they went, like they had seen a ghost.
They made a sudden wheel around, and broke the waggon tongue slap, short off, as a pipe-stem ; and snap went both of the axletrees at the same time, and of all devlish flouncing about of flour barrels that ever was seen, I reckon this took the beat. Even a rat would have stood a bad chance in a 36 THE LIFE OF straight race among them, and not much better in a crooked one ; for he would have been in a good way to be ground up as fine as ginger by their rolling over him.
But this proved to me, that if a fellow is born to be hung, he will never be drowned ; and, further, that if he is born for a seat in Congress, even flour barrels can't make a mash of him. We put our load into another waggon, and hauled ours to a workman's shop in Baltimore, having delivered the flour, and there we intended to re- main two or three days, which time was necessary to repair the runaway waggon. While I was there, I went, one day, down to the wharf, and was much delighted to see the big ships, and their sails all flying; for I had never seen any such things before, and, indeed, I didn't believe there were any such things in all nature.
After a short time my curiosity induced me to step aboard of one, where I was met by the captain, who asked me if I didn't wish to take a voyage to London? He said he wanted just such a boy as I was, which I was glad to hear. I told him 1 would go and get my clothes, and go with him. He enquired about my parents, where they lived, and all about them.
I let him know that they lived in Tennessee, many hundred miles off. We soon agreed about my intended voyage, and I went back to my friend, the waggoner, and informed him that I was going to London, and wanted my money and my clothes. He refused to let me have either, and swore that he would confine me, and take me back to Tennessee. I took it to heart very much, but he kept so close and constant a watch over me, that I found it impossible to es- cape from him, until he had started homeward, and made several days' journey on the road.
He was, during this time, very ill to me, and threatened me with his waggon whip on several occasions. At length I resolved to leave him at all hazards ; and so, before day, one morning, I got my clothes out of his waggon, and cut out, on foot, without a farthing of money to bear my expenses. For all other friends having failed, I determined then to throw myself on Providence, and see how that would use me. I therefore concluded I would seek for one in him.
Main Content
He was going westwardly, and very kindly en- quired of me where I was travelling? My youth- ful resolution, which had brooked almost every thing else, rather gave way at this enquiry ; for it brought the loneliness of my situation, and every thing else that was calculated to oppress me, di- rectly to view. My first answer to his question was in a sprinkle of tears, for if the world had been given to me, I could not, at that moment, have helped crying.
As soon as the storm of feeling was over, I told him how I had been treated by the waggoner but a little before, who kept what little money I had, and left me without a copper to buy even a morsel of food. He became exceedingly angry, and swore that he would make the other waggoner give up my money, pronouncing him a scoundrel, and many other hard names. I told him I was afraid to see him, for he had threatened me with his waggon whip, and I believed he would injure me. But my new friend was a very large, stout-looking man, and as resolute as a tiger. We turned and went back about two miles, when we reached the place where he was.
I went reluctantly ; but I depended on my friend for pro- tection. When we got there, I had but little to say ; but approaching the waggoner, my friend said to him, " You damn'd rascal, you have treated this boy badly. It was then demanded of him ; but he declared most solemnly, that he had not that amount in the world ; that he had spent my money, and in- tended paying it back to me when we got to Ten- nessee. I then felt reconciled, and persuaded my friend to let him alone, and we returned to his waggon, geared up, and started. His name I shall never forget while my memory lasts ; it was Henry Myers.
He lived in Pennsylvania, and I found him what he professed to be, a faithful friend and a clever fellow. We traveled together for several days, but at length I concluded to endeavour to make my way homeward ; and for that purpose set out again on foot, and alone. But one thing I must not omit. The last night I staid with Mr. They were good enough to contribute a sort of money-purse, and presented me with three dol- lars.
I set in to work for a man by the name of James Caldwell, a month, for five dollars, which was about a shilling a day. When this time was out, I bound myself to a man by the name of Elijah Griffith, by trade a hatter, agree- ing to work for him four years. I remained with him about eighteen months, when he found him- self so involved in debt, that he broke up, and left the country.
For this time I had received nothing, and was, of course, left without money, and with but very few clothes, and them very indifferent ones. I, however, set in again, and worked about as I could catch employment, until I got a little money, and some clothing ; and once more cut out for home. I told them,- if I could get a canoe I would venture, caps or- no caps.
They tried to persuade me out of it ; but finding they could not, they agreed I might take a canoe, and so I did, and put ofl'. I tied my clothes to the rope of the canoe, to have them safe, whatever might happen. But I found it a mighty ticklish business, I tell you. When I got out fairly on the river, I would have given the world, if it had belonged to me, to have been back on shore. But there was no time to lose now, so I just determined to do the best I could, and the devil take the hindmost.
When I struck land, my canoe was about half full of water, and I was as wet as a drowned rat. But I was so much rejoiced, that I scarcely felt the cold, though my clothes were frozen on me ; and in this situation, I had to go above three miles, before I could find any house, or fire to warm at. I staid with him a few weeks, and then went on to my father's, which place I reached late in the evening. Several waggons were there for the night, and considerable company about the house.
I enquired if I could stay all night, for I did not intend to make myself known, until I saw whether any of the family would find me out I was told that I could stay, and went in, but had mighty little to say to any body. I had been gone so long, and had grown so much, that the family did not at first know me. And another, and perhaps a stronger reason was, they had no thought or ex- pectation of me, for they all had long given me up for finally lost. After a while, we were all called to supper.
I went with the rest. The joy of my sisters and my mother, and, indeed, of all the family, was such that it humbled me, and made me sorry that I hadn't submitted to a hundred whippings, sooner than cause so much affliction as they had suffered on my account. I found the family had never heard a word of me from the time my brother left me. I was now almost fif- teen years old ; and my increased age and size, together with the joy of my father, occasioned by my unexpected return, I was sure would secure me against my long dreaded whipping ; and so they did.
But it will be a source of astonishment to many, who reflect that I am now a member of the American Congress, — the most enlightened body of men in the world, — that at so advanced an age, the age of fifteen, I did not know the first letter in the book. I HAD remained for some short time at home with my father, when he informed me that he owed a man, whose name was Abraham Wilson, the sum of thirty-six dolkrs, and that if I would set in and work out the note, so as to lift it for him, he would discharge me from his service, and I might go free.
I agreed to do this, and went immediately to the man who held my father's note, and contracted with him to work six months for it. I set in, and worked with all my might, not losing a single day in the six months. When my time was out, I got my father's note, and then declined working with the man any longer, though he wanted to hire me mighty bad. The reason was, it was a place where a heap of bad company met to drink and gamble, and I wanted to get away from them, for I know'd very well if I staid there, I should get a bad name, as nobody could be respectable that would live there.
I therefore returned to my father, and gave him up his paper, 46 THE LIFE OF which seemed to please him mightily, for though he was poor, he was an honest man, and always tried mighty hard to pay off his debts. I next went to the house of an honest old Qua- ker, by the name of John Kennedy, who had re- moved from North Carolina, and proposed to hire myself to him, at two shillings a day. He agreed to take me a week on trial ; at the end of which he appeared pleased with my work, and in- formed me that he held a note on my father for forty dollars, and that he would give me that note if I would work for him six months.
I was cer- tain enough that I should never get any part of the note; but then I remembered it was my father that owed it, and I concluded it was my duty as a child to help him along, and ease his lot as much as I could. I told the Quaker I would take him up at his offer, and immediately went to work. I never visited my father's house during the whole time of this engagement, though he lived only fifteen miles off.
But when it was finished, and I had got the note, I borrowed one of my em- ployer's horses, and, on a Sunday evening, went to pay my parents a visit. Some time after I got there, I pulled out the note and handed it to my father, who supposed Mr. Kennedy had sent it for collection.
I then told him I had paid it for him, and it was then his own ; that it was not presented for collection, but as a present from me. At this, he shed a heap of tears ; and as soon as he got a little over it, he said he was sorry he couldn't give me any thing, but he was not able, he was too poor.
The next day, I went back to my old friend, the Quaker, and set in to work for him for some clothes; for I had now worked a year without getting any money at all, and my clothes were nearly all worn out, and what few I had left were mighty indifferent I worked in this way for about two months ; and in that time a young woman from North Carolina, who was the Qua- ker's niece, came on a visit to his house.
And now I am just getting on a part of my history that I know I never can forget.
- Item Preview.
- Navigation!
- Einfach erfolgreicher mit BusinessHealing (German Edition).
- 10 Step Guide To Coping;
- CULTURAL AND LITERARY SIGNIFICANCE?
- .
- Against All Odds.
For though I have heard people talk about hard loving, yet I reckon no poor devil in this world was ever cursed with such hard love as mine has always been, when it came on me. I soon found myself head over heels in love with this girl, whose name the public could make no use of ; and I thought that if all the hills about there were pure chink, and all be- 48 THE LIFE OF longed to me, I would give them if I could just talk to her as I wanted to ; but I was afraid to begin, for when I would think of saying any thing to her, my heart would begin to flutter like a duck in a puddle; and if I tried to outdo it and speak, it would get right smack up in my throat, and choak me like a cold potatoe.
It bore on my mind in this way, till at last I concluded I must die if I didn't broach the subject; and so I determined to begin and hang on a trying to speak, till my heart would get out of my throat one way or t'other. And so one day at it I went, and after several trials I could say a little. I told her how well I loved her ; that she was the darling object of my soul and body ; and I must have her, or else I should pine down to nothing, and just die away with the consumption.
I found my talk was not disagreeable to her ; but she was an honest girl, and didn't want to deceive nobody. She told me she was engaged to her cousin, a son of the old Quaker. This news was worse to me than war, pestilence, or famine ; but still I knowed I could not help myself.
But I didn't press my claims any more, seeing there was no chance to do any thing. I had never been to school but four days, as the reader has already seen, and did not yet know a letter. I thought I would try to go to school some ; and as the Quaker had a married son, who was living about a mile and a half from him, and keeping a school, I proposed to him that I would go to school four days in the week, and work for him the other two, to pay my board and schooling. He agreed I might come on those terms ; and so at it I went, learning and working back and forwards, until I had been with him nigh on to six months.
In this time I learned to read a little in my primer, to write my own name, and to cypher some in the three first rules in figures. And this was all the schooling I ever had in my life, up to this day. I should have continued longer, if it hadn't been that I concluded I couldn't do any longer without a wife ; and so I cut out to hunt me one. I found a family of very pretty little girls that I had known when very young. They had lived in the same neighborhood with me, and I had thought very well of them. I still continued paying my respects to her, until I got to love her as bad as I had the Quaker's niece ; and I would have agreed to fight a whole regiment of wild cats if she would only have said she would have me.
Several months passed in this way, during all of which time she continued very kind and friendly. At last, the son of the old Quaker and my first girl had concluded to bring their matter to a close, and my little queen and myself were called on to wait on them. We went on the day, and performed our duty as attendants. This made me worse than ever ; and after it was over, I pressed my claim very hard on her, but she would still give me a sort of an evasive answer. However, I gave her mighty little peace, till she told me at last she would have me.
I thought this was glo- rification enough, even without spectacles. I was then about eighteen years old. We fixed the time to be married ; and I thought if that day come, I should be the happiest man in the created world, or in the moon, or any where else. I had by this time got to be mighty fond of the rifle, and had bought a capital one. He had at the same time a bound boy living with him, who I had gotten into almost as great a notion of the girls as myself.
He was about my own age, and was deeply smitten with the sister to my intended wife. I know'd it was in vain to try to get the leave of the old man for my young associate to go with me on any of my courting frolics ; but I thought I could fix a plan to have him along, which would not injure the Quaker, as we had no notion that he should ever know it.
We commonly slept up-stairs, and at the gable end of the house there was a window. So one Sunday, when the old man and his family were all gone to meeting, we went out and cut a long pole, and, taking it to the house, we set it up on end in the corner, reaching up the chimney as high as the window.
After this we would go up- stairs to bed, and then putting on our Sunday clothes, would go out at the window, and climb down the pole, take a horse apiece, and ride about ten miles to where his sweetheart lived, and the girl I claimed as my wife. I was always mighty 52 THE LIFE OF careful to be back before day, so as to escape being found out ; and in this way I continued my attentions very closely until a few days before I was to be married, or at least thought I was, for I had no fear that any thing was about to go wrong. Just now I heard of a shooting-match in the neighbourhood, right between where I lived and my girPs house; and I determined to kill two birds with one stone, — to go to the shooting match first, and then to see her.
I was mighty lucky, and when the match was over I had won the whole beef. This was on a Saturday, and my success had put me in the finest humour in the world. So I sold my part of the beef for five dollars in the real grit, for I believe that was before bank-notes was invented ; at least, I had never heard of any. I now started on to ask for my wife ; for, though the next Thursday was our wedding day, I had never said a word to her pa- rents about it.
I had a great deal better opinion of myself, I found, than other people had of me ; but I moved on with a light heart, and my five dollars jingling in my pocket, thinking all the time there was but few greater men in the world than myself. In this flow of good humour I went ahead, till I got within about two miles of the place, when I concluded I would stop awhile at the house of the girPs uncle ; where I might enquire about the family, and so forth, and so on. When I went in, tho', I found her sister there.
I asked how all was at home? In a minute I found from her countenance something was wrong. She looked mortified, and didn't answer as quick as I thought she ought, being it was her brother-in-law talking to her. However, I asked her again. She then burst into tears, and told me her sister was going to deceive me ; and that she was to be married to another man the next day. This was as sudden to me as a clap of thunder of a bright sunshiny day. It struck me perfectly speechless for some time, and made me feel so weak, that I thought I should sink down. I however recovered from my shock after a little, and rose and started without any cere- mony, or even bidding any body good-bye.
The young woman followed me out to the gate, and entreated me to go on to her father's, and said she would go with me. She said the young man, who was going to marry her sister, had got his license, and had asked for her ; but she assured me her father and mother both preferred me to him ; and that she had no doubt but that, if I would go on, I could break off the match. But I found I could go no further. My heart was bruised, and my spirits were broken down ; so I bid her farewell, and turned my lonesome and miserable steps back again homeward, concluding that I was only born for hardships, misery, and disappointment.
I now began to think, that in making me, it was entirely forgotten to make my mate ; that I was born odd, and should always remain so, and that nobody would have me. My appetite failed me, and I grew daily worse and worse. They all thought I was sick ; and so I was. And it was the worst kind of sick- ness, — a sickness of the heart, and all the tender parts, produced by disappointed love. While out, I made a call at the house of a Dutch widow, who had a daughter that was well enough as to smartness, but she was as ugly as a stone fence.
She was, how- ever, quite talkative, and soon begun to laugh at me about my disappointment. She seemed disposed, though, to comfort me as much as she could ; and, for that purpose, told me to keep in good heart, that " there was as good fish in the sea as had ever been caught out of it. But I couldn't help thinking, that she had in- tended what she had said as a banter for me to court her!
I felt little inclined to talk on the subject, it is true ; but, to pass off the time, I told her I thought I was born odd, and that no fellow to me could be found. She added that the one who had deceived me was nothing to be compared with her. I didn't believe a word of all this, for I had thought that such a piece of flesh and blood as she was had never been manufactured, and never would again. I agreed with her, though, that the little varment had treated me so bad, that I ought to forget her, and yet I couldn't do it I con- cluded the best way to accomplish it was to cut out again, and see if I could find any other that would answer me ; and so I told the Dutch girl I would be at the reaping, and would bring as many as I could with me.
I employed my time pretty generally in giving information of it, as far as I could, until the day came ; and I then offered to work for my old friend, the Quaker, two days, if he would let his bound boy go with me one to the reaping. But I knowed my promise to the Dutch gu-], and I was resolved to fulfil it ; so I shouldered my rifle, and started by myself.
When I got to the place, I found a large company of men and women, and among them an old Irish woman, who had a great deal to say. I soon found out from my Dutch girl, that this old lady was the mother of the little girl she had promised me, though I had not yet seen her.
She was in an out- house with some other youngsters, and had not yet made her appearance. She came up to me, and. I had no doubt she had been told what I come for, and all about it. In the evening I was introduced to her daughter, and I must confess, I was plaguy well pleased with her from the word go. She had a good coun- tenance, and was very pretty, and I was full bent on making up an acquaintance with her. It was not long before the dancing commenced, and I asked her to join me in a reel. I found her very interesting ; while I was setting by her, making as good a use of my time as I could, her mothes came to us, and very jocularly called me her son- in-law.
This rather confused me, but I looked on it as a joke of the old lady, and tried to turn it off as well as I could ; but I took care to pay as much attention to her through the evening as I could. I went on the old saying, of salting the cow to catch the calf. I soon become so much pleased with this little girl, that I began to think the Dutch girl had told me the truth, when she said there was still good fish in the sea.
We continued our frolic till near day, when we joined in some plays, calculated to amuse youngsters. I had not often spent a more agreeable night. In the morning, however, we all had to part ; and I found my mind had become much bet- ter reconciled than it had been for a long time. I went home to the Quaker's, and made a bargain to work with his son for a low-priced horse. He was the first one I had ever owned, and I was to work six months for him. I had been engaged very closely five or six weeks, when this little girl run in my mind so, that I concluded I must go and see her, and find out what sort of people they were at home.
She wanted badly to find out all about me, and as I thought to see how I would do for her girl. In a short time, however, my impatience was relieved, as she arrived at home from a meeting to which she had been. There was a young man with her, who I soon found was disposed to set up claim to her, as he was so attentive to her that I could hardly get to slip in a word edgeways.
I began to think I was barking up the wrong tree again ; but I was determined to stand up to my rack, fodder or no fodder. And so, to know her mind a little on the subject, I began to talk about starting, as I knowed she would then show some sign, from which I could understand which way the wind blowed. It was then near night, and my distance was fifteen miles home. At this my little girl soon began to indicate to the other gen- tleman that his room would be the better part of his company.
At length she left him, and came to me, and insisted mighty hard that I should not go that evening ; and, indeed, from all her actions and the attempts she made to get rid of him, I saw F 62 THE LIFE OF that she preferred me all holler. But it wasn't long before I found trouble enough in another quarter. Her mother was deeply enlisted for my rival, and I had to fight against her influence as well as his. But the girl herself was the prize I was fighting for ; and as she welcomed me, I was determined to lay siege to her, let what would happen.
But he didn't dare to at- tempt any thing more, for now I had gotten a start, and I looked at him every once in a while as fierce as a wild-cat. I staid with her until Mon- day morning, and then I put out for home. It was about two weeks after this that I was sent for to engage in a wolf hunt, where a great number of men were to meet, with their dogs and guns, and where the best sort of sport was expected.
I went as large as life, but I had to hunt in strange woods, and in a part of the country which was very thinly inhabited. While I was out it clouded up, and I began to get scared ; and in a little while I was so much so, that I didn't know which way home was, nor any thing about it. And for the information of young hunters, I will just say, in this place, that when- ever a fellow gets bad lost, the way home is just the way he don't think it is. This rule will hit nine times out of ten. I went ahead, though, about six or seven miles, when I found night was coming on fast ; but at this distressing time I saw a little woman streaking it along through the woods like all wrath, and so I cut on too, for I was determined I wouldn't lose sight of her that night any more.
I run on till she saw me, and she stopped ; for she was as glad to see me as I was to see her, as she was lost as well as me. When I came up to her, who should she be but my little girl, that I had been paying my respects to. She had been out hunting her father's horses, and had missed her way, and had no knowledge where she was, or how far it was to any house, or what way would take us there.
She had been travelling all day, and was mighty tired ; and I would have taken her up, and toated her, if it hadn't been that I wanted her just where I could see her all the time, for I thought she looked sweeter than sugar; and by this time I loved her almost well enough to eat her. Here we staid all night. I set up all night courting ; and in the morning we parted. She went to her hopie, from which we were distant about seven miles, and I to mine, which was ten miles off.
I now turned in to work again ; and it was about four weeks before I went back to see her. I continued to go occasionally, until I had worked long enough to pay for my horse, by putting in my gun with my work, to the man I had pur- chased from ; and then I began to count whether I was to be deceived again or not. At our next meeting we set the day for our wedding ; and 1 went to my father's, and made arrangements for an infair, and returned to ask her parents for her.
When I got there, the old lady appeared to be mighty wrathy ; and when I broached the subject, she looked at me as savage as a meat axe. The old man appeared quite willing, and treated me very clever. But I hadn't been there long, be- fore the old woman as good as ordered me out of her house.
I thought I would put her in mind of old times, and see how that would go with her. But her Irish was up too high to do any thing with her, and so I quit trying. All I cared for was, to have her daughter on my side, which I knowed was the case then ; but how soon some other fellow might knock my nose out of joint again, I couldn't tell. I however felt rather insulted at the old lady, and I thought I wouldn't get married in her house.
And so I told her girl, that I would come the next Thursday, and bring a horse, bridle, and saddle for her, and she must be ready to go. Her mother declared I shouldn't have her ; but I know'd I should, if somebody else didn't get her before Thursday. I then started, bidding them good day, and went by the house of a justice of the peace, who lived on the way to my father's, and made a bargain with him to marry me. When Thursday came, all necessary arrange- ments were made at my father's to receive my wife ; and so I took my eldest brother and his wife, and another brother, and a single sister that I had, and two other young men with me, and cut out to her father's house to get her.
We went on, until we got within two miles of the place, where we met a large company that had heard of the wedding, and were waiting. When they got there, they found the old lady as wrathy as ever. However the old man filled their bottle, and the young men returned in a hurry. I then went on with my company, and when I arrived I never pretended to dismount from my horse, but rode up to the door, and asked the girl if she was ready ; and she said she was.
I then told her to light on the horse I was leading ; and she did so. Her father, though, had gone out to the gate, and when I started he commenced persuading me to stay and marry there ; that he was entirely willing to the match, and that his wife, like most women, had entirely too much tongue ; but that I oughtn't to mind her.
I told him if she would ask me to stay and marry at her house, I would do so. With that he sent for her, and after they had talked for some time out by themselves, she came to me and looked at me mighty good, and asked my pardon for what she had said, and invited me stay. We had as good treatment as could be expected ; and that night all went on well. The next day we cut out for my father's, where we met a large company of people, that had been waiting a day and a night for our arrival. We passed the time quite merrily, until the company broke up ; and having gotten my wife, I thought I was completely made up, and needed nothing more in the whole world.
But I soon found this was all a mistake — for now having a wife, 1 wanted every thing else ; and, worse than all, I had nothing to give for it. I remained a few days at my father's, and then went back to my new father-in-law's ; where, to my surprise, I found my old Irish mother in the finest humour in the world. She gave us two likely cows and calves, which, though it was a small marriage-portion, was still better than I had expected, and, indeed, it was about all I ever got.
I rented a small farm and cabin, and went to work ; but I had much trouble to find out a plan to get any thing to put in my house. At this time, my good old friend the Quaker came forward to my assistance, and gave me an order to a store for fifteen dollars' worth of such things as my little wife might choose. My wife had a good wheel, and knowed exactly how to use it. She was also a good weaver, as most of the Irish are, whether men or women ; and being very indus- trious with her wheel, she had, in little or no time, a fine web of cloth, ready to make up ; and she was good at that too, and at almost any thing else that a woman could do.
We worked on for some years, renting ground, and paying high rent, until I found it wan't the thing it was cracked up to be ; and that I couldn't make a fortune at it just at all. So I concluded to quit it, and cut out for some new country. In this time we had two sons, and I found I was better at increasing my family than my fortune.
It was therefore the more necessary that I should hunt some better place to get along ; and as I knowed I would have to move at some time, I thought it was better to do it before my family got too large, that I might have less to carry. The Duck and Elk river counl;ry was just be- ginning to settle, and I determined to try that.
I had now one old horse, and a couple of two year old colts. So we all fixed up, and I packed my two colts with as many of my things as they could bear ; and away we went across the mountains. We got on well enough, and arrived safely in Lincoln county, on the head of the Mulberry fork of Elk river. I found this a very rich country, and so new, that game, of different sorts, was very plenty. It was here that I began to distinguish myself as a hunter, and to lay the foundation for all my future greatness ; but mighty little did I know of what sort it was going to be.
Of deer and smaller game I killed abundance ; but the bear had been much hunted in those parts before, and were not so plenty as I could have wished. I WAS living ten miles below Winchester when the Creek war commenced ; and as military men are making so much fuss in the world at this time, I must give an account of the part I took in the defence of the country.
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 any thing about the business.
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. 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.
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 de- posites.
When the men were paraded, a lawyer by the name of Jones addressed us, and closed by turning out himself, and 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. The time arrived ; I 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.
- Narrative of the Life of David Crockett of the State of Tennessee;
- .
- The Imagined Underworld: Sex, Crime, and Vice in Porfirian Mexico City!
We all met and went ahead, till we passed Huntsville, and camped at a large spring called Beaty's spring. Here we staid 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.
NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF DAVID CROCKETT OF THE STATE OF TENNESSEE
But he had the honour to com- mand all his men from first to last, as not one of them left him. Jackson had not yet left Nashville with his old foot volunteers, that had gone with him to Natchez in 1S12, 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 called him up, but Major Gibson said he thought he hadn't beard 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.
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. 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 and my men then started, and went on to the place of meeting, but Major Gibson was not there.
We waited till almost dark, but still he didn't come. We then left the Indian trace a little dis- tance, 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 staid also next morning till after breakfast: I told the men we had set out to hunt a fight, and I wouldn't go back in that way ; 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 ; so we g2 78 THE LIFE OF fed our horses and got dinner with him, and seemed to be doing mighty well. But he was bad 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 with us.
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.
Narrative of the Life of David Crockett of the State of Tennessee | theranchhands.com
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 Creeks, which was dis- tant about eight miles.
The moon was about the 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 were brothers, both very large and likely, and could talk Indian as well as English.
One of them I sent on to Ditto's Land- ing, 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. 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 cer- tain " contingences," we tied them up with our saddles on them, and every thing to our hand, if in the night our quarters should get uncomfort- 80 THE LIFE OF able.
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 lope to make our way back to that place.
We were about sixty-five miles off. Ql 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 staid 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 Col. 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, and so I kept it all to myself; though I was so mad that I was burning inside like a tar-.
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! 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, and to get on the Indians in another direction. After we passed Huntsville, we struck on the river at the Muscle Shoals, and at a place on them called Melton's Bluff.
This river is here about two miles wide, and a rough bottom ; so much so, indeed, in many places, as to be dangerous; and in fording it this time, 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 also a fine quantity of dried beans, which were very acceptable to us ; and without delay we se- cured 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 we had just 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. Crockett's Narrative conveys the lively quality of his storytelling style, which comes directly from the oral tradition, as evidenced in the following first excerpt. The second excerpt reveals how Crockett's campaigning style, like his writing style, was memorably idiosyncratic.
I took my tomahawk in one hand, and my big butcher-knife in the other, and run up within four or five paces of [the bear], at which he let my dog go, and fixed his eyes on me. I got back in all sorts of a hurry, for I know'd if he got hold of me, he would hug me altogether too close for comfort. I have just crept out of the cane, to see what discoveries I could make among the white folks. I would therefore have me a large buckskin hunting-shirt made, with a couple of pockets holding about a peck each; and that in one I would carry a great big twist of tobacco, and in the other my bottle of liquor; for I knowed when I met a man and offered him a dram, he would throw out his quid of tobacco to take one, and after he had taken his horn, I would out with my twist and give him another chaw.
And in this way he would not be worse off than when I found him; and I would be sure to leave him in a first-rate good humour. Much of the debate regarding the authenticity of the Narrative reflects the claims of a proposed literary-political conspiracy first put forth in by Vernon Louis Parrington in his influential Pulitzer Prize—winning work, Main Currents in American Thought. This theory was further developed in by James Shackford, Crockett's principal biographer, and it has been restated by more recent biographers until the early twenty-first century. According to this theory, Crockett's fame was largely manufactured by an eastern Whig elite who wished to promote him as a frontier-character alternative to Andrew Jackson and the Democrats.
Part of this promotion effort included the production of literary works, one of which was the Narrative. French's earlier biography was also said to have been ghostwritten by the clerk of the U. House of Representatives , Mathew St. Skeptics suggest that Crockett, supposedly an ignorant, simpleminded frontiersman, would have been incapable of writing such a work himself and that the writing must have undertaken by Thomas Chilton. Little hard evidence is provided in support of this theory, however, which appears to rest mainly on the notion that if Crockett opposed the supposedly proletarian Jacksonian Democrats, he must have been somehow duped by wealthy eastern interests.
However, poor and middle-class loyalties of the time were approximately equally divided between Democrat and Whig. And in fact, Crockett had reason to distrust Jackson and the Democrats, who opposed him on land reform, on internal improvements to his district, and on his support for the national Bank of the United States and whose Indian removal bill Crockett opposed, referring to it in the Narrative as a "wicked, unjust measure" p. Furthermore, Jackson Democrats had campaigned against Crockett since at least It is clear that Thomas Chilton served as a kind of technical editor of the work and may in some cases have assisted in more significant matters of style and substance.
It is also true that the Whigs welcomed an authentic frontier character who opposed Jackson, and Whigs did help sponsor a Crockett tour of the eastern states in In spite of these influences, however, there is little substantive reason to believe that the Narrative is not largely Crockett's own work. In the Narrative, Crockett elaborated upon a uniquely American tradition of the frontier hero, which appealed to the public's interest in finding authentic American characters and its fascination with the western frontier.
Life on the frontier was first related to eastern readers in first-person accounts and in John Filson's "autobiography" of Daniel Boone , whose rescue of his daughter from Indians inspired events related in James Fenimore Cooper 's — Last of the Mohicans Frontier heroes as depicted in Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales, Crockett's Narrative, and Timothy Flint's biography of Boone inspired tales of colorful frontier characters drawn from this tradition in popular fictional dime novels produced throughout the nineteenth century. His Masquerade , the frontiersman as hero, and antihero, is presented in a more literary context.
The Narrative also provided a direct influence on the Crockett almanacs, the first of which appeared during Crockett's lifetime in and which continued through at least forty-four issues until Although almanacs had been published in America since the seventeenth century, the Crockett almanacs focused on colorful tales of wild animals and hunting, often adding comic hyperbole in the tall tale tradition, for example, in comic encounters between "Davy" Crockett and the keelboat man Mike Fink. Through these almanacs and other elements of the frontier literary tradition, inspired in part by Crockett's Narrative, the frontier hero—in equal parts boastful, comically unsophisticated, honest, moral, and courageous—emerged as a significant figure in American literature and popular culture throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and have continued to appear in western novels and films even into the twenty-first century.
University of Tennessee Press, Facsimile edition, annotated and with an introduction by James A. Shackford and Stanley J. New Haven , Conn.: College and University Press, University of Nebraska Press, The Man, the Legend, the Legacy, — Main Currents in American Thought. The Man and the Legend. University of North Carolina Press, Cite this article Pick a style below, and copy the text for your bibliography. Retrieved December 18, from Encyclopedia. Then, copy and paste the text into your bibliography or works cited list. Because each style has its own formatting nuances that evolve over time and not all information is available for every reference entry or article, Encyclopedia.
Print this article Print all entries for this topic Cite this article. Learn more about citation styles Citation styles Encyclopedia.