the mill on cove creek—swept away, “lock, stock, and barrel”—the crockett family keeps moving—andrew jackson and the corn-thief—“a boy’ll be after trouble before his ears are dry”—the empty cupboard—’lasses-b’ilin’s, bean-stringin’s, butter-stirrin’s—bobtail pigs and bawling calves—davy is sent to virginia on foot with jacob siler—he gets homesick, and longs to see his family—good friends come to his aid, and he returns home.
it would appear that john crockett had some funds upon moving to cove creek, for he at once began the building of a mill, in partnership with a man named galbreath. they had about finished the mill—undoubtedly a primitive affair—when trouble came.
over all the flanks and summits of the appalachian range the snow lay deep in the shelter of the pines. it was the accumulation of the long winter, compact, and covered with a glaze of ice. all through the winter the creek on which the mill was[27] built flowed quietly in its course, held in check by the icy rein of the zero weather. but the stream grew deeper and swifter as the days advanced, and when the swamp-apple and the wild cherry were like woodland fairies in their robes of tender pink and creamy white, when the rumble of the partridge’s wings was heard and the violets were scarfs of blue flung here and there, the south wind swept along the range with lowering clouds, the heavens were opened, and the rain began. in “the twinkling of an eye” the stream they had relied upon to run their mill swept every vestige of their labor out of sight, “lock, stock, and barrel,” as crockett described the disaster.
few men care to build upon the scene of ruined hopes, and john crockett moved on again. we follow him next to a place on the road that was frequented by travellers between virginia and nashville. here he kept an inn for the wayfarer—a poor kind of an affair, where only such people as wagoners were likely to halt. they were as rough as the roads over which they came, and in feeding such guests there was small profit. the[28] western settlers were always ready to take arms against any authority that held too tight a rein, and each man was as quick to show fight in his own behalf. in his later years, david crockett remembered the little tavern between jonesboro and knoxville as a place of “hard times, and plenty of ’em.”
it was there that davy first saw andrew jackson, who was afterwards his leader in the creek war of 1813. already the renown of the state’s attorney had become a household subject in tennessee. jackson feared no man, and brought to justice the most defiant of the mountaineers. the men of that day had a habit of settling their differences out of court, which caused many to die “with their boots on.” much the same system even now prevails in some parts of kentucky and tennessee. to those who have deplored the passionate natures and the crimes of the foreign element in our country, it may be said that the most lawless and cruel of our citizens are primitive americans, the feudists of the dark and bloody ground and the big bend state. the reason why jackson had most of the court cases in those days was because they were criminal[29] suits, and to him, as public prosecutor, came the duty of conducting them.
one day there stopped at the crockett tavern a man from the head of the limestone, who had come down the nolichucky with a load of corn that he had stolen from a neighbor. of this he openly boasted, and he defied any one to interfere with him. john crockett told him he did not care to take stolen corn as payment for feeding him and his horses, and asked him to go; but the unwelcome guest said he should stay as long as he liked. the next day, towards dark, appeared a number of horsemen, who had been belated by a storm in the mountains. among them was andrew jackson, and there were also two or three constables and prisoners on the way to knoxville. then in his twenty-seventh year, jackson was an ideal leader of men. more than six feet tall, slender but muscular, the glance of his dark blue eyes meant more than verbal threats. to him, john crockett told the story of the vainglorious thief. jackson told the man that he was under arrest, whereupon the latter at once became violent and threatening.
[30]
the room of the tavern in which the wagoners spent the spare hours was large and dingy, built of logs, and had been the scene of more than one desperate quarrel. there were enough bullet-holes in the logs to prove it.
jackson whispered to a constable, and under the directions of the latter every one left the room except jackson and the thief. ten minutes afterwards the latter came out of the room, without his rifle or knife, and sullenly left the place. the horses and the wagon-load of corn were left behind, and were afterwards turned over to the man from whom they had been stolen. davy, who was a lad of eight or nine years at the time, had been terrified by the threats of the corn-thief, and always wondered at the quiet way in which andrew jackson had disposed of him.
the small boy’s days are short, but full of zest. having as yet no conscience, or at least a dormant one, he feels no regrets for his misdeeds, but sleeps the sleep of the just, and wakes with all his faculties for mischief whetted. where “two or three are gathered together,” there is always danger in[31] the air. davy had brothers whose experiences gave him a good start, and he “profited by their example.” up to the age of five, when he danced with rage on the banks of the shore where he had been left alone, he tells us that he never had worn any breeches. from this we infer that as he was easy to overhaul in flight, and was without any protection from the usual application of punishment, he had to grow and be clothed before he became a serious source of trouble. an irishman fresh from the old sod will tell you that “a boy’ll be after huntin’ trouble before his ears are dry.” and once started, he never quits.
in davy’s time there were no jam closets for him to rob, for the cupboard was always empty, except for the great loaves of bread that were baked from corn and rye. everything being devoured as fast as it was cooked, none of the boy’s time was taken up with watching the pantry, and his time was his own. if there happened to be such neighborhood events as corn-huskin’s, ’lasses-b’ilin’s, log-rollin’s, bean-stringin’s, or butter-stirrin’s, which still prevail in the mountains, there was a respite for his[32] victims. upon one occasion, when his parents had gone to a corn-husking, davy and one of his brothers, with another boy, rounded up all the hogs that were fattening on beech-nuts in the woods, penned them up, cut off their tails, and let them go. it was some weeks later when their villainy was detected. they were forced to confess that they were guilty, and that the tails had been roasted in hot ashes and eaten. such mild pastimes as robbing birds’ nests were diversified by practical jokes on the travelling public, and many a beating fell to the lot of the crockett boys. one of the tricks they played was to take the calves away from their bovine mothers after dark. this meant all-night bawling, and human wakefulness, until the cows were united with the lost offspring. if elisha had lived in the tennessee mountains, the bears would have been busy all the time.
when davy was twelve, in 1798, he had become a strong and useful lad, with a fully developed conscience. the wishes of his parents were the only law he had known, and when at last the time came when his father said to him, as saul to him of[33] old, “david, go, and the lord be with thee,” he went forth as a pilgrim. it is not certain with what words he was sent forth, but he seems to have made no appeal from the bargain that sent him four hundred miles over the mountains, on foot, in the keeping of a stranger. perhaps he had come to know that his father found it hard to feed so many mouths. at any rate, he took up the long march with an old german, jacob siler, who was bound to virginia with a herd of cattle, where he proposed to remain. how many have read with sympathy and keen appreciation davy’s simple story of his departure “with a heavy heart,” perhaps never to return!
siler treated the boy kindly, and paid him five or six dollars for his help. when he reached the end of his journey, he tried to persuade davy to stay with him. at first davy thought it his father’s wish that he should remain, so for some weeks he tried to be content; but the yearning to see his family again was strong within him. one day, as he was playing in the road, there came along three familiar faces, those of a man named dunn and two sons,[34] each with a good team. the sight of them was like a sight of home, for they were bound to knoxville, and the way led past the lowly crockett inn, and davy was soon telling his plight to sympathetic listeners. as his disappearance in the daytime would soon be known and might result in his being brought back, they told him that if he could get to the place where they were to put up for the night, seven miles away, they would take him home. all the tiresome journey there, davy had come on foot, and at the prospect of riding all the way back, heaven opened before him.
to his delight, he found that the “good old dutchman and his family” had gone to a neighbor’s. davy’s own story of what followed is this:
“i gathered my clothes and what little money i had, and put them all together under the head of my bed. i went to bed early that night, but i could not sleep. for though i was a wild boy, yet i dearly loved my father and mother, and i could not sleep for thinking of them. and then the fear that i should be discovered and called to a halt filled me with anxiety: and between my childish love[35] of home, on the one hand, and the fears of which i have spoken, on the other, i felt mighty queer.”
it was three hours before daylight when davy crawled out of his bed. he got away from the house without waking any one, and found it snowing hard, eight inches having already fallen. in the absence of moonlight, it was a difficult matter to reach the main highway, half a mile off; but once in that, he steered his way towards the place appointed, guided by the opening made through the woods. he was two hours trudging through snow up to his knees, and as his tracks were covered as fast as they were made, the siler family must have wondered at his disappearance.
davy found the dunns up and feeding their teams, and was kindly received. as he warmed himself by the fire, he forgot his struggle with the storm in his thankfulness for their goodness and help. as soon as breakfast was over, the wagoners set out, and the boy found himself counting the seemingly endless miles of the homeward journey. when they reached the roanoke valley, his desire to get home was too great for him to endure the[36] slow progress of the loaded wagons. he could travel twice as fast afoot, so at the house of john cole, on the roanoke, he thanked his kind friends for what they had done for him, and started out alone on what must have been a tramp of three hundred miles.
he was near the first crossing of the river in a few hours, and dreaded it, as he would have to wade or swim to the other side, in water that was very cold. then he heard the clatter of horses’ feet behind him, and a cheery hail from a man who was returning from where he had sold some stock. he had an extra horse, saddled and bridled, and as he had also a soft spot in his heart for boys, in a moment davy was mounted, as proud as a king. in this way he travelled until within fifteen miles of home, when he went his way on foot, full of gratitude towards the stranger for his goodness towards a “poor little straggling boy.”
