3xx12 - Letter from Col. William Martin to Lyman Draper - transcribed by William Kent Martin

Dixon Springs, Feb. 13, 1843

Lyman C. Draper, Esqr.

Dear Sir

In drawing out my fathers's character in a former communication, I confined myself to the great and leading features, omitting several little anecdotes which I am now about to supply, as they may be necessary to complete the picture. Notwithstanding his social habits among men and his kind and accommodating disposition in his family, yet, with them he was rather reserved - Seldom indulged in Chit-Chat. And, even with me, after I had struck out for myself, and had made some character of which he seemed quite proud, he was guarded-placing himself on his dignity.

When together he would converse freely on subjects of interest - addressing me rather as an equal, than as a son. He but seldom spoke of himself, and seemed to think he had done but little good in the world - regretted much his want of education, and other advantages of improvement in early life - that the greater part of his best years had been in a great manner thrown away. Meaning that nature had fited him for a more exalted theatre than the one on which circumstances had forced him.

It was this consideration I suppose, which bid him as soon as his means would well afford it, to purpose giving me an extensive education.

But by this time I had begun to think for myself and had got so many romantic and chivalrous notions into my head, that I could not endure the idea of the insipid sensuality of a school house, and I declined it.

And I plunged directly deep into the evil doings. Had I accepted this kind offer, my destiny might have been materially different from what it has been. And I, now, like my father when too late, regret my folly.

You see how prone I am to lay myself in at every niche where it will bear. What egotism! But old men have this weakness and vanities as well as young ones.

My uncle Brice Martin, my father's younger brother, was coincidentally reclaimed in life before he married. In the mean time he lived mostly with my father - was with him in all his western enterprises and the wars until the latter was appointed Indian Agent. From him I got the most of the anecdotes I am now about to relate.

He was rather a light superficial man - thought his brother. For one of the greatest men in the world and delighted much to tell of his manly prowess. He said that my father, when quite a young man had occasion to go to Loudon County on business. While there he went to a cock fight. After a while a couple of big boys got to fighting (one of them turned out to be the celebrated Wylie Hampton of S. C. Who so greatly distinguished himself with Sumpter during the Revolution became the richest plantation in the State - And was one of our generals on our Southern Frontier during the late war) During this fight, Ty Harriss the great champion of the county, showed Hampton foul play. My father tho a stranger, resented it, and at it they went, and my father whipt him badly with but little hurt to himself. Som man by the name of Rowland, Cousin to Hampton lived as neighbors in the time of my growing up. Father and them often talked about it - and that a strange youth should whip their champion astonished every body. And many were amazed at it, as Harris was a troublesome man.

Once he and others were together in one of their such carousals, and one of the company had a monsterly dog and was boasting of his great prowess, and that he could make him seize any thing man or beast. My father said he could whip his dog a fair fight for a gallon of rum. He was to stand in an open place without any weapon, and the dog to be set at him. Thus stationed, the dog was told by his master to seize him, and as he came the other struck him in the butt of the ear - knocked him down - seized him by the throat and chocked him so nearly to death, that his master begged his life. He then threw him over into a garden close by - and the dog as soon as he was able, ran off with his tail tucked.

Once at Charlottesville, he and some friends were in a tavern drinking some toddy, when a large assaine of a fellow came in - swaggered about a while, and at length helped himself to some of their toddy without an invitation. (This when among drunkards is considered rude). My father was sitting looking at him with his elbow upon his knee, and his chin resting upon his hand. The fellow approached him rudely and asked him what was the matter, to which the other replied nothing but the tooth-ache- that one of his teeth was loose and ached, and he wished him to try to pull it out, at which the fellow, fool like, put his fingers in to pick for the tooth when the other clinched one of them between his teeth and led him by it all about the room, he begging after while to let him go and kicked him out of the house, after having bit his finger to the bone, and told him that was to teach him how to behave in future when he went among gentlemen.

At an other time he, my uncle Brice, and others had set out to the West on one of their long hunting trips. In an adjoining county they came on a master's field - great many people - they stop'd - and mixed, about a while - at length a huge man, Josh Richardson came to him - said he understood that he, my father, was a great fighter - the bully - of the county where he lived and he, Richardson, was the champion of that county and he could whip him. The other told him that he was a stranger there and on a journey - had nothing against him and that he did not wish to fight. Richardson told him he must either fight or acknowledge the cover. The other told him he would not do the latter, and that if nothing but a fight would satisfy him, he should have it. So they striped and went at it. It was long and hard, but father being among his friends, some of them showed foul play - so the other tho't it safest for him to let Josh be on top. His, father's friends, seeing this, thought he was doing good business, hazzard for Josh, patting him on the back - but after a while they discovered he was motionless, and when they came to examine they found he was apparently dead. The other had checked him until he was senseless and helpless, and it was with difficulty they could resuscitate him. My father was not hurt so as to prevent him from pursuing his journey.

I have said in a former communication that my father commanded a company in Christians' Campaign against the Cherokees in the year 1776. On their return march some of his men were sick. He applied to the commander for horses, when said there were none but the pack, and that they could not be spared. He, nevertheless, stripped as many horses as would mount his sick. He and Christian had a difficulty about it, but I suppose it was amicably adjusted as they were intimate friends in all their after life. When they arrived at French Broad, George Taylor, a youth and neighbor's son, was sick with measles - had no horse - weather cold - the river wide and steep to ford - rocky and rapid. My father told Taylor to straddle his neck and he would carry him over. When they got about half way over they met an officer on horse-back returning on some occasion. They stopped and had some communication. After while my father said "George are you tired?" Father used frequently to hear Taylor talk about it with great jest - that while they were talking how the water roared and foamed and he perched upon his captain's shoulders like a frog upon a tussock.

I have before said that after the return of Christain's Campaign, my father was with his company stationed at the Rye Cove on Clynch. In the spring of 1777, and a while before the Treaty at the Long Island, two men arrived at this fort from Ky, with an express to the Governor of Virginia for assistance. This was the second year of the first settlement there, and of course it was quite weak, and it was seriously feared that the surrounding Tribes of Indians would unite and massacre the whole. At that time they would all have left the county if they could have got away. But this was impracticable as the Indians had got nearly all their horses, and furthermore, they kept the people put up in the fort,. So that it was with the greatest difficulty they could sustain themselves at all. And this Rye Cove Fort was the nearest place of relief, 170 miles.

Thus were these two men dispatched to the Governor for help. And they had thus on foot made their way good through this long and dangerous wilderness, supposing all danger now gone. After getting refreshments they set forward again, but had not gone more than half a mile from the fort, when they were fired on by Indians, and one of them, named Bohman, killed. But as the Indians ran up to him he fired and wounded one of them. The other man got back to the fort. On hearing the guns, my father and others ran to the place, but the Indians were gone. They in following the trail, discovered blood, by which it appeared one Indian was wounded.

They trailed the blood to a cave into which the Indians had gone. (Caves are quite common in those mountainous limestone countrys). This was a low and narrow cave - my father went into the cave, killed the Indian and dragged him out. This was thought very adventurous, as the Indian had his gun with him.

While Indian agent my father lived a good deal of time on the Long Island. I have told you before that the white people intruded on the Indian lands, and frequently interrupted the peace which the agent was endeavoring to preserve. At length these called the Sevier party became very hostile to him - Said he was a friend to the Indians and was better than they. So a party of about fifty men embodied and came about thirty miles with the determination to kill him and some Indians with them. He heard of the movement and prepared himself for the occasion. They came to the river privately - halted, and sent eight of ten of the party - over to see the situation of things. They approached. He went out heavily armed to meet them, and demanded their business. They answered (inasively?) - He told them he knew their business and that he would shoot down the first man that attempted to move his gun. They said they had no hostile intentions, and after parlaying a while, he told them if they were friendly, dispose of the light - to come into the house and take some refreshment, and after a while sent for the others to come over - that all was peaceful.

They came and had a high frolic, and finally parted good friends. This was an occasion which proved his superiority over other men. The imposing position he assumed - his great notoriety for personal daring - his mighty form, and his lion like determination could but appal those men who must have been conscious of being engaged in an unjustifiable enterprise. And no man knew better how to make the best of a crisis, nor could any carry the most awful terror in one hand and the olive branch in the other, more successfully than he could. Few men better understood the secret spring of the human heart.

In my narrative of the Campaign of 1781, Under Coln. Arthur Campbell, I said that when they arrived at the Tennessee River, it was difficult crossing - a quarter of a mile wide - they saw some canoes on the opposite side, and that my father came near being drowned in attempting to swim over on his fine Brown. This I think was on Christmas Day - (although this has been called the Campaign of 1781, it was sit on foot in the latter part of the previous year.) Cold however as the weather was, George Richey and an other man, whose name I forgot, swam over and got the canoe, not knowing but that Indians might be in ambush. This was a kind of daring that few men of the present day would emulate. I know Richey well. He was afterwards killed by Indians with is wife their only child.

I sent on to you two packets a good while age. I should like to know if they have been received.

I am with respect Your friend

Wm Martin