WILLIAMSONS OF KENTUCKY PREFACE

Transcription

1 WILLIAMSONS OF KENTUCKY PREFACE It was fun and interesting to gather as much information on the Williamson family as possible, but sooner or later this mass of data had to be put into some kind of shape. Conclusions had to be drawn. It was of course preposterous to claim we knew every thought or action of our ancestors, but by dint of matching family movement with historical data, it was possible to guess at their motivations. This was especially true during the period from the end of the American Revolution to the time of the first World War. From the first, researching records from the earliest days was extremely difficult, given that the earliest-found name, "John Williamson", occurred in almost every family line and had been carried on for close to two hundred and fifty years. Invariably, every source confused the various Johns with Johns from other generations or from several family branches. It became clear very early in our researches that in some instances we would never learn the truth of which John was mentioned. Another obstacle was family folklore. By accepting the supposed "data" in family stories, it was easy to become sidetracked, with the researcher only later realizing that the truth was sometimes set aside for entertainment value. Our researches into the many family stories showed that the Williamsons loved a tall tale! And they apparently had (and still have) the ability to tell these stories with such sincerity that the "facts" are believed for years, sometimes even for generations. The Williamsons were rich in stories some real, some exaggerations, and some that had no kernal of truth at all. It was up to our researchers to sift through every story and prove as much as was possible. Our thanks goes to them and to every person, ancestor or not, who contributed to our fascinating history.

2 OVERVIEW Our ancestors were physically hardy people. In general they were tall and strong, usually with blue eyes and light hair, sometimes red. It was rare to find any mention of a physical deformity or mental handicap. In fact, one of the earliest Williamsons, Elizabeth Williamson Ballard, was known as the "beauty of the district," and she was not alone. As soon as girls came of age, they generally married quickly, and it was seldom that an "old maid" Williamson remained. The Williamson men, on the other hand, tended to marry later in life, after first acquiring land and establishing a homestead. They often married much younger women. Since both male and female Williamsons as a whole often lived longer than their contemporaries during earlier times, it was not uncommon for them to marry two or even three times during their lifetimes. As was usual in those days, they had large families. While it is not possible to know the number of miscarriages and stillborn births in those early families, we do know that once born, the babies seemed to thrive and had a much lower infant mortality rate than other families. The earlier Williamson births tended to favor boys, although this evened out by the early 1900s. While a number of male Williamsons from the late 1700s through the Civil War years were massacred or killed, they had been married for some time with large families that ran to boys. It was seldom that any Williamson branch died out completely. The Williamsons were rarely rich people. They were close to the land, and farming was the mainstay of almost all Williamson households until the beginning of the 20 th century. The Williamson migration across America stemmed in large part for a quest for fresh farming land. What made the family unique was that its members didn't wait to emigrate into settled communities like so many of their neighbors. Rather, they were pioneers in every sense of the word, pushing into lands and territories that only years later would become states. 2

3 CHAPTER ONE "ONE OF THE EARLY ADVENTURERS" Three sources cite various origins of the John Williamson family who first appear in Kentucky. The most famous, that of William F. (Buffalo Bill) Cody's, is the most explicit, but it was written over one hundred years after the fact, when folklore and heroic legends had already arisen about Kentucky's settlers. In his book, "Story of the Wild West and Campfire Tales", Cody says, "In 1782 the Ballards removed from Boonesborough to a place some fifty miles distant, named as Tyler's Station.There was a small settlement at Tyler, composed exclusively of Virginians, among the families being that of Captain Williamson's, a gentleman frequently mentioned in Kentucky history." The book goes on to describe Captain Williamson's daughter, Elizabeth, who married Bland Ballard of Ballard County, Kentucky fame. We note here that John's son, who was a legitimate Captain of the militia, was mentioned in Kentucky history, whereas his father was not, other than in a few court documents. So it is probably safe to assume that the John Williamsons, father and son, were somewhat mixed in Cody's book. Their location at Tyler's Station is also a mix of fact and fiction, as shown by later documents. Cody's book cites no sources, and he himself says that, though lacking literary qualifications because of having no formal education, he did the best he could from the few rare sources he could find. So although it is thrilling that so famous a source should mention our family, it is as uncertain as any other unproven source. The second source is also suspect. Ruth Williamson Hall remains a somewhat enigmatic figure. Conflicting reports place her as either the daughter or granddaughter of John Sr. When she died in 1874 at the age of 102, her obituary gives this version: "Mrs. Hall was born in Ireland or Wales. It is not definitely known which. Her father George Williams came to America when she was but four years of age, and settled in Jefferson County, Kentucky." The obituary states that as a young girl she went to live with her aunt, Elizabeth Williamson Ballard, thus in this account apparently making Ruth the granddaughter of John Sr., with her father George being one of John's sons. However, when John McManus, second husband of Ann Williamson (John Sr.'s widow) died, his will provides for "my stepdaughter, Ruth Williamson", thus making Ruth John Sr.'s daughter. A third source, widely quoted, is in letters and statements from John Sr.'s grandson, John Whitaker Williamson, born 14 years after his grandfather was massacred. G. T. Wilcox, grandson of Squire Boone and a good friend of John Whitaker's, restated what John Whitaker himself had told him, "His father, John Williamson [Jr.], came with his father John Williamson [Sr.] from Virginia and settled at the Linn Station in 1781." Although this sounds like a perfect family source, we shall later see that John Whitaker took many liberties with the truth. Whichever version is correct, we know that in 1780 the Williamsons emigrated to what was then the Virginia county of Kentucky. No documents exist showing that the family came before that year, although John himself might have done what other men had 3

4 done that is, come to Kentucky during the spring and summer to survey or to clear homestead sites, and then return to the east in the autumn and winter. There were no resources for staying through the winter in Kentucky, and their families were back east. So the trek back and forth for some men lasted until settlement came to the wilderness. However, court documents tell us that John was looking to purchase land, not clear it for others, so his only reason for being in Kentucky before 1780, if he was, would have been to survey prospective land sites. White men had come to Kentucky looking for land for some time. But these men, without families, could move swiftly through woods where families with possessions could not yet go. There were few trails, negotiated only by packhorse, and political considerations served at first to hold back the tide of immigrants. By December 1774, Richard Henderson, friend of Daniel Boone, had created the Transylvania Company, formed to exploit land ownership of Kentucky. He began publicly advertising for people to settle in the wilderness lands owned by the Transylvania Company. If the Williamsons were in America at that time, most likely Virginia or Pennsylvania, they would probably have seen or heard about this wilderness with its promise of clear, cold streams, fertile soil, and abundant wildlife. They would surely have been tempted, for the Williamsons were an "itchy foot" breed of hardy frontier families, always in the forefront of settlement. Indeed, in a later court case, John Williamson Sr. was described as "one of the early adventurers" to Kentucky. His sons and grandsons would push into Indiana and Illinois ahead of the great rush of homesteaders to those states. Other generations would stake their claims to the wild lands in Texas and Colorado. But in 1774 the Kentucky lands were still in the hands of His Majesty, King George III of England, and he had forbidden any settlements west of the Alleghany mountain range. His Majesty did not want trouble with rebellious colonists beyond the control of his governors in settled communities. The Indians at this time gave scant attention to any white men in the lands that would later become the state of Kentucky. Those were hunting grounds, used by all the tribes but rarely settled by any, and if a white man journeying there was unlucky enough to run into a party of Indian hunters, he might get his hair lifted. Or not. In many instances, the white man was given a small store of supplies and courteously sent back to the nearest settlement, with a warning not to trespass again. This happened several times to Daniel Boone himself. But courtesy has its limits, and the slow, steady incursions of white men, and their building of stations and forts, alarmed the Indians to such an extent that by 1775, sporadic raids turned into warfare. Where in 1774 there had been about five hundred people in Kentucky, mostly men, by early 1776 there were now barely two hundred. Records are very patchy for this period, but nowhere is there a mention of a Williamson, in land or militia records, near the Falls of the Ohio. The next year, 1777, was such a bloody, horrific time that it was forever known as "the year of the three sevens." More people retreated to the eastern settlements, the smaller stations were abandoned, and Boonesborough, Harrodsburg, and Logan's station (St. Asaph's) were the only populated centers on the Kentucky frontier. Again there are no records of any Williamsons. 4

5 The American Revolution, while fiercely fought in the east, had barely touched the lands west. This would change as Hamilton, His Majesty's governor stationed at Detroit, began a campaign to use Indians, white renegades such as the Girty brothers, and a small British force with cannon to wipe out all Kentucky settlements. Paying for white scalps, and turning a blind eye to his Indian allies' atrocities such as burning prisoners at the stake, Hamilton aptly earned the name "Butcher". Even Thomas Jefferson later wrote, after Hamilton's capture by George Rogers Clark, "Governor Hamilton is a butcher of men, women & children. I will not say to what length the fair rules of war would extend the right of punishment against him; but I am sure that confinement under its strictest circumstances, for Indian devastation and massacre, must be deemed lenity." Williamson family members suffered torture and death in future years as a direct result of Hamilton's policies. Although outwitted by the wily Boone from capturing Boonesborough in 1777, Hamilton encouraged his Indian allies to wreak havoc whenever and wherever they could. This they proceeded to do. After all, they were getting paid in British supplies to do so. The frontier flared with numerous skirmishes, raids, and scalping parties. Both sides joined in with relish, the whites fighting when time could be spared from the crops. By spring of 1779 however, the Kentuckians had had enough of this mayhem and were ready to take the fight out of the Indians. About two hundred riflemen under the command of Colonel Bowman attacked the Shawnee village of Little Chillicothe one foggy night. Bland Williams Ballard, 17 years old but already wise in the ways of Indians, went along. While still a boy, he had made a pledge to himself to be the protector of others, and he proceeded to do so the rest of his life, winning fame as an Indian fighter, scout, and finally, United States legislator. He would be married to Elizabeth Williamson in a few years, but right now he had a job to do. He was sent to spy out the Indian camp. The Shawnee strength was weak at this time, four hundred warriors having moved over to the Mississippi. Most of the remaining warriors at Chillicothe fled the advance of the Kentucky riflemen, leaving about forty men and boys to defend the village. Bowman retreated after destroying the Indian cabins and crops, and taking their horses, always a valuable commodity on the frontier. It was a serious morale setback for the Shawnee, and they were quiet for some months. During , George Rogers Clark had been busily marching through the wilderness, capturing the British posts of Kaskaskia, Cahokia, and Vincennes, and catching "Butcher" Hamilton himself. The Indians contented themselves with small sorties during the summer of 1779, although no one quite believed it would stay that way. Still, a pioneer is nothing if not an optimist, and it was in the latter part of 1779 that immigrant families began heading for Kentucky. Colonel Calloway, one of the leaders of Boonesborough, had gone east to represent Kentucky County in the Virginia Assembly, since Kentucky would not become a state until Calloway came back to Kentucky with a pack train, forty men, lead, flints, and powder. Said Colonel Daniel Trabue, his contemporary and eyewitness, "Men were very easy to get to go with the powder and lead as they wanted to see the country and get the land." And get the land they did. Richard Henderson's Transylvania Company had by this time collapsed, and its land claims were no longer valid. The Virginia government stepped in and appointed a commission to hold hearings in October 1779 at the various forts. They were authorized to issue certificates for four hundred acres of land if the 5

6 settler could establish previous occupation, with preemption right to one thousand acres adjoining it. Although the commission issued about 3200 claims, no Williamson name seems to appear. "Seems" is the word used here, since in a very few instances over the years the name "Williamson" was shortened to "Williams." However, the "John Williams" on one of the certificates was verified as an actual settler, so 1779 saw no Williamsons in Kentucky. But that would soon change. By this time, the available land around the Falls of the Ohio was almost completely taken. Land speculators back east had bought up large tracts, and the remaining land was being given as preemption warrants to military veterans of the French and Indian War. Many warrantees, however, sent others to improve on their land while they themselves stayed back east. Earlier, during the years , Richard Chenoweth, Nicholas McCarty, and Robert Jones were living in the Monongehela country (southwestern Pennsylvania). Several times during those years, Chenoweth travelled down the Ohio River to the Falls. He had taken the job from McCarty and Jones of making preemption improvements (clearing land and building on it as proof of ownership) on their land near the Falls. This was slow, grueling work, especially for a man alone. Trees had either to be cut down or girdled round the trunk to die later. In those early years stumps were usually left to rot, for there was no equipment or manpower to get them out. Brush and stones had to be cleared. Some sort of cabin, a lean-to, or a claim marker had to be built. A man could work for months and only have a small area cleared. Chenoweth did preemption work on land on the west branch of Floyds Fork in Jefferson County for McCarty and another spot on Pottingers Creek in what was later Nelson County for Jones. Various accounts described the Floyds Fork land as one of the finest in the area, with rolling country bordering a small stream. Chenoweth, seeing the richness of the surrounding country, began to clear land on the Fork, but for himself, not for McCarty who owned the warrant. This land was the focus of a future court case brought by John Williamson Jr., and was so desirable that title to it was still being fought over into the mid-1800s. In 1778, Chenoweth was back in Pennsylvania. Seeing a chance to travel down from the Monongahela with a military escort, Chenoweth and his family joined with George Rogers Clark s militia as it made its way down the Ohio to the Falls. Settling first on Corn Island and later on the shore where present-day Louisville now stands, Chenoweth built a cabin near the Falls and settled his family there. It is not known if he continued making improvements for McCarty and Jones out on their preemption lands, but it is quite likely he continued clearing land for himself, even if only sporadically, due to his building Fort Nelson (where Louisville now stands) for the military. It is during the following year of 1779 that Chenoweth began exhibiting what the courts later called his repugnant actions. He gave a bond to James Sullivan for land already under another warrant by a company back east. Although not uncommon in an area where land claims were made by blazing a mark on boundary trees, it later became the basis for just one of the over fourteen court cases involving Chenoweth. Several of Chenoweth's "repugnant" actions would later cost the Williamson family a ten-year court battle with him. The fall of that year marked the beginning of one of the worst winters in the colonies. Samuel H. Laughlin wrote in his diary (circa 1845), "The winter of , was unusually severe, and is remembered in the history of the times, and traditionally, as 6

7 the Hard winter. The river and streams were all frozen up---cattle and domestic animals died up by hundreds and thousands, as doubtless did the wild game. Wild meat when it could be procured by the border settlers was very poor; and the corn and grain was early consumed and the people put to great straits to procure subsistence of any sort, however common or coarse. Settlers were reduced to the very point of starvation, so much so that they were compelled to live on the most unwholesome meats without bread." The suffering was tremendous. Although some early immigrants were already on their way to Kentucky, those caught without shelter faced losing extremities to exposure, or death by starvation. Whole families perished, and scarcely any domestic animal remained. The harsh weather continued far into spring. But nothing could deter the determined rush of immigrants. And it is at this time that we pick up the first official mention of the Williamson family in Kentucky. By spring of 1780, after the Ohio River had cleared of the worst of the ice, "boatloads of immigrants", along with their livestock and goods, began to arrive, most from Virginia. Court documents show that in May 1780 John Williamson Sr., along with his family, was already living at Linn's Station, two days wagon ride east of the Ohio River, between where Louisville and Shelbyville stand today. That same May, just as the largest influx of immigrants into the area began, the Virginia land commissioners met at the land office established the previous year at Harrodsburg. Previous settlers such as Richard Chenoweth, John Swan and others set out to Harrodsburg to file land claims, either for themselves or for absentee owners back east. When Chenoweth appeared before the commissioners, they asked him several questions about the land he had "improved on Floyd's Fork, which he evaded. Finally, upon being pressed to state if he was entering the preemption for the man who had sent him to Kentucky in the first place, or himself, and where it should be, he told them he was entering the improvement in the name of Nicholas McCarty for 1000 acres in the brushy woods on the left branch of Floyds Fork. It must have really hurt to give up title to the land he himself wanted. Returning to Floyds Fork, he quietly continued clearing the land for himself. Possession was nine-tenths of the law, after all. By late that same year, John Swan, also one of the early settlers, sent word to Nicholas McCarty in Pennsylvania that he would like to trade land that he owned near Harrodsburg for the McCarty's desirable Floyd's Fork preemption land. Besides wanting the fertile land itself, he planned to build a sawmill on the swift-moving Fork. A short while later Chenoweth was chagrined to find that McCarty had decided after all to come down from the Monongahela country. Wanting to look over his preemption and presumably intrigued by John Swan's proposal, McCarty had come to view his land that was so desirable to others. He also wanted to see how much preemption work his hired man, Chenoweth, had done. When McCarty asked where his own land laid, Chenoweth falsely told him it was on Pottingers Creek, which was actually the preemption land for Robert Jones where Chenoweth had already made some improvements. The land surrounding Pottinger's Creek, while still fertile, was not as desirable as that surrounding Floyd's Fork, which was only eight miles from Linn's Station. Formerly known as Heaton's Creek, Pottinger's was known for having a sulphur lick and for its "very strong and rapid cane". It was also much farther away. In 1780 the only way to get 7

8 to Pottinger's Creek was to ride thirty miles from Linn's Station to Cox's Station, then ride another fifteen miles along a buffalo trace from Cox's to Pottinger's Creek. John Sr. and his family continued to live at Linn's Station while he scouted for land, but almost all of it had either been preempted or sold. He would have to look further out. Records show that during 1780 John Sr., Nicholas McCarty, and Nicholas s brother Thomas all lived at Linn s Station. They were intimately acquainted and freely and frequently conversed about land claims. John moved about the country when he could, looking for a homestead, but frequent Indian attacks kept most activity close to the stations. McCarty had already made a contract with John Swan to trade their lands, so he had nothing for John Williamson to buy. Meanwhile, in a later tally of John's possessions, there is listed "1 loom." A rarity in very early stations, it is possible the Williamsons bartered woven goods for food and other necessities while waiting to find the right homestead. 8

9 CHAPTER "TIL ALL BREATH AND HOPE WAS GONE" As spring brought warmer weather the following year of 1781, border skirmishes and raiding parties began again. In March, Nicholas McCarty had had enough when Indians killed John Swan, McCarty's potential land buyer. McCarty wanted to return to the Monogahela country and needed a horse, either to ride because of Indians or as a packhorse. But there were few horses left in the region after the hard winter. That was when John Sr. saw an opportunity and began land negotiations with McCarty. McCarty agreed to sell him 500 acres, or one half of his Floyd's Fork preemption, which at this time McCarty, following the description given to him by Chenoweth, believed to be on Pottingers Creek. Anxious to conclude the sale and return east, McCarty agreed to John's bond (promise of future payment) and his black mare, some plow irons, and a few (variously described as 4, 5, or 20) bushels of corn. John's black mare was old, worth about 5 and apt to break away from anything she was tied with. McCarty, however, would take what he could get. Later, in court, McCarty s brother Thomas testified with some disgust that his brother, after receiving the mare, had at one point been reduced to using Thomas s chains in lieu of rope to keep the mare from wandering off. It is worth wondering if the Williamson ancestors were horse traders! Before McCarty left, John asked him and McCarty's brother Thomas to go with him to view (or more likely, to mark) his new purchase. This was at least a two-day trip. However, Indian raids prevented them from leaving at this time. Later, between Indian raids, John cleared enough common land near Linn's Station to sow crops of corn, flax, hemp, and potatoes. By late summer, Nicholas McCarty finally left for the Monongahela, but the black mare either ran off or died before McCarty had gone very far, and he was forced to return to Linn s Station. Lack of transportation and increased Indian activity made further attempts to leave the area impossible. Richard Chenoweth would later claim that back in 1780 he had told McCarty that Robert Jones s preemption on Pottingers Creek would soon be for sale at a cheap price, and that McCarty, thinking he could purchase it, presold it to Williamson. McCarty denied this vehemently in court, and subsequent witnesses, including Robert Jones, the actual owner of the land on Pottinger s Creek, corroborated his testimony. But at this moment Chenoweth was content. He had duped McCarty, Williamson, and Jones. He had the land he wanted, only eight miles from Linn's Station, and had cleared a nice patch to build a house. He began laying aside stones for a springhouse. Since arriving in Kentucky in 1779, young Bland Williams Ballard had lived at Linn's Station, which was better fortified than most by having a palisade and a few militiamen, of which he was one. On September 12, 1781, the (future) Major Ballard started out to Brashear's Station to get a minister for a wedding back at Linn's Station. When only a few miles out, he discovered that a large body of Indians had passed, so he turned swiftly and rode back to warn the station. He then sent word to Beargrass Station that was next in line and was the garrisoned military headquarters for Jefferson County. Emulating Paul 9

10 Revere, he then went on to Boone's Station that night to warn them, a twenty-two mile ride. The loss of manpower caused by discouraged and frightened settlers leaving the region had already weakened Boone's Station, which was furthest out. The settlers who had been notified in passing by Bland now rushed to find safety at Boone's. The station itself was barely defensible just some houses arranged in a square with pickets. The settlers that night were "flushed by Major Ballard's news". They were in no condition to withstand such a large force, but debated, as people do, the wisdom of fight or flight. Wiser heads prevailed and it was decided to retreat to Linn's Station early the next morning. But when day dawned, realization set in. There were not enough packhorses for their goods. And the very old and very young could not possibly make the long trip without riding. It was decided that Squire Boone, who had been injured in an earlier skirmish, would stay at the station with a few others to guard any possesions left behind, while Bland would conduct the rest of the families to Linn's Station and then return with relief forces. It seemed a good plan. The settlers trudged mile after mile in a long, weary line, leading the pack animals. It was September, and hot. As they reached the area of Long Run Creek, the Shawnee attacked the front and rear of the line simultaneously. Hurrying to the rear where the fighting was fiercest, Bland saw a man and his wife who had taken shelter between the creek banks. He gave up his horse, telling the man to mount his wife and get out of there. He then dove into cover and "drove the Indians back and held them as long as he could". When the Indians temporarily faded away into the woods, he returned to the path and discovered to his disgust that the man and woman were still where he had left them. As he started to where they were, two Indians ran up and attempted to drag either the woman or her supplies from the horse. Bland shot one and fought the other hand-to-hand, killing him. Yelling at the husband, he swatted the horse to get the woman out of danger, and began making his way hurriedly but stealthily to the place where he had left the rest of the settlers. But there were no settlers. The Indians had massacred "a great many and scattered the rest." It was a devastating blow to the little community. Over the next several days, wounded, weary settlers straggled in one by one to Linn's Station. "There were a good many killed and lost. Among the number were the two Misses Hansboro's. Several days later, some women got to Lynn's Station, naked in a manner, for when they got to the station, all they could hold out as a flag was a little piece of their shirt. And Mrs. Mundle and Elizabeth Ballard, [future] wife of Bland Ballard, took clothes and brought them in." By the next day word had gone out and men from Beargrass Station arrived at Linn's Station. Colonel Floyd rode for Long Run Creek with about thirty-four men, including Bland, to bury the dead. Knowing Indians, "Bland and Caress begged to be permitted to go and reconnoiter, for they were satisfied the Indians were there, but Floyd would not hear of it." A youth living among Indians trying to lift his hair learns early not to take Indians for granted. They were a slippery, cunning bunch and Bland knew very well they wouldn't leave the site of all that plunder. Cows and horses had run into the woods, as had any settlers not massacred outright. And the Shawnee knew that the white men always came back to gather up their dead. So Bland had every reason to be wary. 10

11 Floyd's party was in fact ambushed as they neared Long Run Creek. Sixteen men, almost half his force, were killed outright, with numerous wounded. It was a disaster in this land where every man was needed. The rest of the party, Bland included, fled to Linn's Station. This time they waited days to go back for the dead. And this time they brought a larger force with scouts. It is presumed that Bland was with this group also. A complete list of the settlers and rescuers who were massacred was never made. "Floyd's Folly", or "Floyd's Defeat", as it was known later, became a well-known story on the frontier. To this day, reenactments of the massacre and its aftermath are carried out, usually with Bland as one of the central characters. In later life, John Whitaker Williamson wrote a version of this same massacre, copied repeatedly in various books and letters. In "The History of the Ohio Falls Counties" he says his grandfather and uncles were massacred at Long Run Creek in He tells the story of how during the confusion Tecumseh s father took John Whitaker s own father, John Jr., as prisoner and then later adopted him. His aunt Elizabeth Williamson would "survive the massacre". Although it sounds like a dramatic incident in Williamson family history it just didn't happen. His grandfather and father were very much alive. Court documents show witnesses testifying that Indians killed John Sr. in the following summer of His son John Jr. also testified that his father was killed in 1782 and he himself made prisoner at that time. He, if anyone, would know. Also, the Williamson's were living near Linn's Station, not Squire Boone's, and it has already been shown that Elizabeth was at Linn's station aiding the survivors. Additionally, Pucksinwah, Tecumseh's father, was killed in the Battle of Point Pleasant in 1774, 7 years before the massacre at Long Run. It is highly probable that John Williamson Sr. and his oldest son George were part of either Floyd's rescue party or the burial detail. In fact, that might be how the story was started that John Sr. was massacred at Long Run Creek. During Indian raids, all available men at one station, except those left behind as guard, would hurry to the defense of another threatened station. Floyd's party had been hurriedly gathered from Linn and Beargrass stations. John and George were living at Linn's at the time, so unless they were on guard duty, they probably would have been with the party. They could also have joined the large force sent out days later to bury the dead. Whichever happened, both were alive, only to be killed and scalped later in non-descript Indian raids. It should be noted here that during John Whitaker's childhood, his grandfather was dead and his father John Jr. was rarely home. His father repeatedly left with the militia to fight Indians, only to be killed by them when John Whitaker was sixteen years old. It is likely John Whitaker's memories were shaped not by his father's stories, but by the second-hand memories of others. Not much else would account for the fact that although he is later noted as having a mind that is "crystal clear," he consistantly got his facts wrong. John Sr.'s oldest son George is a shadowy figure. If Ruth Williamson Hall's obituary is to be believed, John Sr. had an older son named George who was already married and had sired Ruth and several boys. But there is also John Whitaker Williamson's version of the family line, which although giving some additional information, is also quite confusing. He writes of the family in several letters. In one, George is mentioned as John Jr.'s elder brother. In another, in a listing of family members, he is not named at all, 11

12 unless it is as "Mr. Williamson's oldest brother." It is unclear from the text which "Mr. Williamson" is being mentioned. Nowhere has any document been found, other than these two sources, which could conclusively prove that a George, oldest son of John Sr., existed. Family researchers have decided, however, without actual proof, that Ruth Williamson Hall's obituary strikes closest to the truth. They believe John Sr. did have an older son named George. It is even possible he was a son of a first marriage, since he was so much older, with children. George had at least three sons old enough to work at clearing fields with him. He had a daughter, Ruth, who was at least four when the family "came to America", and probably about eight years old in 1781, if her obituary is to be believed. The little Williamson group stationed at Linn's Station is believed to have consisted of John Sr. and wife Ann, children Elizabeth, James, John Jr., Ann, and infant Moses, born shortly before the emigration to Kentucky. No marriage record for John and Ann has been found, so it is unclear if Elizabeth was a child of John's (supposed) first or second wife. Also included in the group would have been John Sr.'s oldest son George, and George's family consisting of at least three sons and a daughter, Ruth. Nothing is known of George's wife. If she was alive when the family came to Kentucky, she must have died shortly thereafter. Ruth's obituary seems to point to the fact that she was an orphan at an early age, "When Mrs. Hall was quite young, and while she was living with her uncle, Major Ballard " For the two families, life at Linn's Station settled into a pattern. Crops were gathered and provisions stored for the winter. It is possible that John and perhaps George finally got to see their land, although with the distance and Indian raids, it is not likely that they could begin to clear it. Then tragedy struck. Ruth's obituary tells what happened in stark terms, "Her father, George Williams, with three of her brothers, left the fort one day to go to their field to work when they were attacked by Indians and her father and one brother were killed; the other two brothers were taken prisoners. One of them was killed soon after being captured; the other was carried off and remained with the Indians fourteen years " This was an eerie prelude to what would later happen to her cousin John Jr. There was to be a happy ending for the prisoner, however. "He [her brother] was one day permitted to go hunting, accompanied by a single Indian. Having gone as far as possible from the camp, he watched his opportunity and shot his companion, and made his escape." It has been impossible to find any further information on this individual, since no name is stated and his age was unknown at the time of his capture. The census comprising the years of his probable return shows there were several male Williamsons of his supposed age living in the area, but as by this time males of several unrelated Williamson families were listed, it has not been possible to tell which male he would have been. Sometime between the end of that terrible year and early summer, 1782, John and Ann celebrated the birth of a son. Not unusual in those days, his parents named the infant George in honor of his slain older brother. The next official mention of the Williamsons was in April 1782, when John and the other heads of households in the area signed a petition addressed to the legislature of 12

13 Virginia. In it they asked that due to the shortage of ministers, marriages already performed by civil officers in the area be declared legal. The petition reached the legislature on June 3. This petition today is housed in the Library of Congress. (earliest known Williamson signature, VA religious petition, April 1782, Kentucky) Several things can be construed from this petition. First, none of the men signing the petition signed with a mark. History tells us that these first settlers coming from the east were usually literate men at least somewhat versed in the sciences. Later, learning would become secondary to survival for their sons and daughters, although schools would become established as soon as possible. The Williamsons did not quite follow this pattern however. John Sr. was literate and his son John Jr. was able to read and write since several letters written by him are in the Kentucky archives. The next generation was "taught in a Presbyterian Church, built in 1798, on Dry Run, the teacher being Godfrey Ragsdale. Among his pupils were the children of Benj. Logan, later General Logan, James Shannon, John Williamson, Dan Colgan, Bland Ballard, Aquilla Whitaker and Samuel Shannon." It is only after this that some Williamsons began being marked on censuses as not being able to read or write. The second thing noted is that John's signature was large, firm, and bold. He wrote as an equal among men. The petition contains a listing of many, although not all, of the prominent men in the area. The signature of John McManus is right below John's. John McManus would later marry Ann Williamson, John Sr.'s widow. (John McManus signature, VA religious petition, April 1782, Kentucky) Bland Ballard was still living at Linn's Station. Bland and Elizabeth Williamson would have come in almost daily contact. William F. Cody describes Elizabeth as "famed throughout the district for her beauty, but no less for her heroic disposition." He also says that John Sr. and Elizabeth, the only family members mentioned, were living at Tyler's station, but court documents contradict this. 13

14 Bland and Elizabeth's love blossomed amid the ever-present Indian raids. These years of would be the bloodiest in Kentucky's history. Plea after plea went to the Virginia legislature, asking for troops and funds. But Virginia was still fighting a war, and supplies of men and material were too scarce to risk on the frontier. Kentucky was on its own. In early summer, only about two months after John Sr. had signed the petition, tragedy again struck the Williamsons. John and his two sons, James and John Jr., had gone out to tend the crops on the common ground near Linn's station where they were living. James was thirteen years old. A Shawnee raiding party, lying in wait near the station, killed John Sr. and James and captured young John Jr., only ten years old at the time. John Whitaker Williamson's account of his father's capture, so typical of Indian raids at the time, tells of the terror of a small boy, "who was taken that night to Middletown, where he saw the scalp of his father and oldest brother stretched over a hoop to dry, and knew for the first time of their murder. His legs and feet being sore, the Indians made leggings of deer skins and tied them on with hickory bark. He was adopted [by] the Shawnee chief of the party He was taken to Chillicothe [Ohio], and there granted his liberty on condition that he could run the gauntlet. A fair chance was given him, and he would have succeeded had it not been for a log at the end of the race that prevented his mounting it successfully and he was struck by a war club. He was next taken by two Indians and washed in the river. This was done for the singular purpose of washing all the white blood out of him. It was done by two Indians who alternately dipped and ducked him until all breath and hope were gone, and he was then pronounced Indian and trained in their hunting grounds and by their campfires." In the ceremony where he was accepted into the tribe, his nose was slit to accept a ring and his ears were pierced. He would bear these marks until the day he died. Back at Linn's Station there was a great commotion. Aquilla Whitaker, a famous Indian fighter who was then at the station, remembers, "that when Williamson the younger was taken prisoner by the Indians at Lynn's station, I heard the old lady Mrs. Williamson making great lamentation for loss of her son." Ann Williamson had lost all of the men in her family except her babies. Elizabeth comforted her mother, while little Ann and her cousin Ruth clung to her. Without men, the Williamson women were in grave trouble. Perhaps due to this, perhaps due to her "great beauty" as stated in Cody's book, perhaps because they had already fallen in love whatever the reason, or all of them, Bland Williams Ballard married Elizabeth Williamson two months later. The month before they were married, Bland had gone as a scout with George Rogers Clark's expedition to the Indian village of Chillicothe in what is now Ohio. Besides routing the majority of the Indians, they would attempt to free any white prisoners. It was known that many white captives were taken there to be slaves, and it was hoped that John Jr. was among them. The expedition was only partially successful however, with many Indians escaping with their prisoners. Bland came back, married Elizabeth, and two months later in November went with Clark on Clark's more successful second expedition to Chillicothe. Unfortunately, John Jr. had been spirited away previously, and was not 14

15 among the returned captives. During these campaigns, Elizabeth stayed with her mother, who now realized that she might never see her son again. Court documents record that during these months, Ann Williamson asked James McCarty and Robert McKeown, two neighbors, to look over the Williamson land, still thought to be on Pottinger's Creek. James was the son of Nicholas McCarty, the original owner. It is not known why she did this. Of course as a lone woman with small children and babies, she could not possibly make the long trip. Was she thinking of selling and going back east? Was she going to divide the land and give some to her now-married daughter Elizabeth? Did she need funds? The records do not tell us. As the year closed, Ann kept her little family in the station. Protected by the guns of Bland and the other men, helped by the other settlers' wives at the station, she thought of her family's future. Her son might still be alive. If he was, and he could get free, he would return to her. She made her decision. The Williamsons would stay. 15

16 CHAPTER "Evasions " The American Revolution was over. Settlers along the Ohio River did not hear of the good news until some months later. Amid great rejoicing, there was also much speculation. The frontier was now going to become the destination of thousands of settlers from the east. It was imperative that land titles be secured and legal. By January 1783, Nicholas McCarty, previous owner of the Williamson land, had decided to stay in the area. He appointed John May to survey his preemption land. When May showed the results to McCarty, an angry McCarty realized that Richard Chenoweth, who had filed McCarty's claim, had lied to him about the location. John May, seeing a valuable and desirable piece of property, asked to buy the half of McCarty s preemption that lay on Floyds Fork. This McCarty refused to do, stating that John Williamson Sr. had already purchased it, and he had given the bond to Williamson s widow. It was at this time that McCarty learned from May that Chenoweth had already built a house on the preemption. McCarty then made plans to reacquire the bond from the widow Williamson, since she had no menfolk left who could make land improvements to pay him back. Chenoweth was now in a quandry. Ann Williamson had every legal right to throw him off the land that should have been owned by her and press charges against him for fraud. Chronically short of money, and by now having moved his family into the house on Floyds Fork, he began a series of what the court later termed evasions designed to let him keep the house and land and appease Ann and McCarty. In the summer of 1783, on the same day he learned that McCarty was going to the widow Ann Williamson to retrieve his bond, Chenoweth hurried to her first and persuaded her to give up her bond to him. He did it by promising to exchange it with other land of comparable value closer to Linn's Station. McCarty was furious, but could do nothing except demand payment from Chenoweth for the bond. In Chenoweth s court deposition he later stated he had given McCarty a rifle and other articles, with a promise of 40 in property and store goods, for the bond. He claimed that he and McCarty agreed to this, but neglected to get it in writing. Again, however, his statement was shown to be false by other witnesses. McCarty never received anything but promises from Chenoweth in payment for his land. Chenoweth, now under pressure by McCarty, conceived a new scheme. Keeping one hundred acres for himself where the house was built, he asked a relative, Thomas Curry, to become security for two bonds on the remaining four hundred acres on Floyds Fork, which was to be divided between James Denny and Jasper Griffin. Curry agreed, paying almost 300 as the mortgagee. To complicate things further, Griffin then assigned his portion of the bond for two hundred acres to James McHatton. Curry would claim in court that he knew nothing of the prior claim of Williamson s, and that he later had to pay Denny and McHatton 300 due to Chenoweth reneging on the bonds. When he afterwards instituted a suit to get his money refunded, the court was unsympathetic, saying it appears to the court that he was also a party to Chenoweth s evasions, and relies on those evasions for his defense. This will not hold. Ann Williamson, with no land and no menfolk, continued living at Linn's Station for the next few years. John had left her with a horse, cows, and twenty-five pigs, and these, 16

17 along with a loom and a few crops, would let her eke out a living. Her family now consisted of little Ann, Moses, and George. Her granddaughter Ruth had been sent to live with Bland and Elizabeth, who now had a house in the vicinity of the station. It is not known if Ann continued to press Chenoweth about land for her family. Bland and Elizabeth continued to help support the little family. In March 1785, Bland and Elizabeth celebrated the birth of their first child, James. They would have six more children in quick succession. Bland was just twenty-four years old, while Elizabeth was twenty-three, but they were already known in the little community for their hard work and heroism. Bland continued serving in the militia, surviving sporadic Indian attacks. Ruth's obituary later recounted an incident at her uncle's house: "While she was living with her uncle, Major Ballard, whose name is familiar to all readers of History, their house was attacked by the savages. During the fight her aunt moulded balls, and Mrs. Hall carried them in her own hands as fast as moulded to her uncle, who was stationed behind a tree a short distance from the house, making several trips amid the shower of balls and arrows that were hurled at them by the savages. The Indians were finally driven away, with a loss of nine of their number." Although the high number of Indians killed is suspect, incidents such as this continued for ten more years until the Battle of Fallen Timbers in 1794, when the confederation of Indian tribes was soundly defeated. Shortly after James Ballard's birth in 1785, Ann Williamson received a welcome shock. Her son John had returned, ransomed from the Shawnee. It had been more than three long years since he had been taken from her sight. Traders coming down the Ohio River from the Monongahela region in Pennsylvania had traded twenty-four jugs of whiskey for him. This was quite a sum, and John must have been a highly prized adopted member of the tribe. He was almost fourteen years old now, toughened into a man by the Indians, lean and sinewy, bronzed by the sun, the front of his head shaved. He would forever look back on his captivity with hatred. He was puzzled that the family was living at the station instead of on their land. Ann told him how Richard Chenoweth had duped Nicholas McCarty, and that the Williamsons had actually owned land on Floyd's Fork. She confessed, to his chagrin, that she had sold his father's bond to Richard Chenoweth. When she admitted that Chenoweth had not kept his promise of giving her another homestead site, and that the Williamsons had nowhere to go, John was grimly determined to do something. Although forced by his captivity to grow up quickly, he could do nothing legally, since he was still considered underage until twenty-one. He turned to those he trusted, the Indian fighter Aquilla Whitaker, Thomas McCarty, and his brother-in-law, Bland Ballard. They counseled him to begin asking Chenoweth to give back the land, or to at least honor his promise of another homesite. Chenoweth, already living at Floyd's Fork, could not be bothered about a "boy" and ignored him. Public opinion can be a mighty weapon, however. Talk soon spread about Chenoweth defrauding a widow. Already known for several other "evasions", Chenoweth could not afford to have his reputation ruined, but he was not about to give up his land. He began planning a way out of the mess. On 5 August 1785, with John Jr. away (probably with the militia) and using Robert Tyler and Peter Young as security, he took out a bond with security amounting to the 17