state was often spoken of, as presenting flattering prospects to adventurers, and his official appointment in that quarter happened quite opportunely to enable him to carry out his intention of visiting that section of the country. In the year 1788, at the age of twenty-one years, he accompanied Judge McNairy, who was going out to hold the first Supreme Court that had ever sat in the district. Having reached the Holston, they ascertained that it would be impossible to arrive at the time appointed for the session of the court; and therefore took up their residence, for some time, at Jonesborough, then the principal seat of justice in the western district. They recommenced their journey, in October, 1789, and passing through an extensive uninhabited country, reached Nashville in the same month.

CHAPTER II.

1789. Early settlements on the Cumberland-Hardships endured by Jackson, in the discharge of his official duties-Escape from the Indians-His presence of mind-Adventures in the wildernessLocates at Nashville-Fruitless attempts to intimidate him—Indian depredations-Becomes acquainted with Mrs. Robards-His marriage-A member of the Tennessee convention-Chosen a senator in Congress-His resignation, and appointment as a judge of the Supreme Court-Firmness and decision of character as a judgeDifficulty with Governor Sevier-Resigns his office, and devotes himself to agricultural pursuits. 1804.

At the time of the first visit made by Andrew Jackson, to the infant settlements on the Cumberland river, including that at French creek, near the present site of Nashville, almost all the settlers were residing in stations, and it was several years before it was entirely safe for them to spread over the country, and live in separate cabins. While the Shawanese from the north were carrying on perpetual war with the settlers in Kentucky, the Cherokees and Choctaws from the south were wreaking their vengeance on the intruders upon their hunting-grounds in Tennessee. Twenty-two times during this period of danger and blood, did General Jackson, in the performance of his public and private duties, cross the wilderness of two hundred miles, then intervening between Jonesborough and the settlements on the Cumberland. The hardships and perils of those journeys it is difficult for travellers at the present day duly to appreciate.

In addition to his rider, with a loaded rifle on his shoulder, the patient horse carried upon his back his master's blankets, provisions, and equipments. His food was the foliage of the bushes and the native grass. At a fire kindled from a tinder-box, or the flash of his rifle, the traveller roasted his bacon or wild meat on a stick, and cut

it with his hunter's knife, while his fingers served him instead of forks. Wrapped in his blanket, with his rifle for a bed-fellow, and his horse standing by, he slept, with no roof to protect him but the boughs of the forest. Without a water-proof hat or India-rubber coat, he was drenched to the skin by the falling rain. Often when he was hungry with fasting, and a delicious pheasant, or plump deer was before him, he dared not kill it, lest the report of his rifle should give notice of his presence to a lurking savage.

At one time when Jackson was traversing the wilderness alone, he came, after night, and amid torrents of rain, to a creek, the noise of whose tumbling waters, already swollen to a great depth, warned him not to attempt crossing the ford. Dismounting from his horse, and turning his saddle bottom upward, at the root of a tree, he wrapped his blanket around him, and with his rifle in one hand and his bridle in the other, sat upon it, with his horse standing before him, listening to the roaring stream and the pattering of the raindrops on the leaves of the forest, until the return of day enabled him to proceed.

On another occasion, he was in company with three companions, on his way from Jonesborough to the Cumberland. They arrived, just after dark, at the east side of the Emory, where it issues from the mountains, and discovered the fires of a large party of hostile Indians on the opposite bank. The moment the discovery was made, Andrew Jackson, as if by instinct, assumed the direction of the party. He enjoined silence and instant retreat, and having retired some distance into the mountains, directed his companions to quit the road cautiously and at different points, so as to leave no distinct trace behind them, and to reunite, and proceed up the stream, for the purpose of crossing at some ford above and eluding the Indians. Guided by the noise of the waters, they progressed up ward among the mountains during the night, and, as soon as it was day, approached the stream. They found it too much swollen to be forded, and too rapid to be swam. Still apprehensive of pursuit, they resumed their march, and about two o'clock in the afternoon reached a place where the stream, after dashing over a rough precipice,

spread out with a lake-like surface, broken at a short distance below by another cataract. Here the party, not feeling safe until their trail was broken by the intervening stream, determined to attempt a passage. Binding logs and bushes together with hickory withes, they soon constructed a small raft sufficient to convey three or four men, and affixed two rude oars to the bows, and one as a steering-oar or rudder to the stern. It was cold, March weather, and very important to keep their clothes, blankets, and saddles, as well as their rifles and powder, from getting wet. To that end, it was concluded that Jackson and one of his companions should first cross with every thing but the horses, and that on a second trip, they should be swam over alongside the raft. The craft was freighted accordingly, and pushed off from shore; but in an instant, an irresistible under-current seized the rude flotilla, and hurled it down the stream. For a few moments, Jackson, who was at the oars, regardless of the shouts of his companions, who followed him downward on the bank, struggled with the flood; but, perceiving that farther effort could only end in destruction, he reversed the direction of the raft, in the hope of reaching the shore he had left. Notwithstanding he exerted all his strength, he was unable to bring it to land; and although within a few feet, the suck of the cataract had already seized it. A moment more, and the raft, with its passengers, would have been dashed in pieces, when Jackson, wrenching one of his oars from its fastenings, sprung to the stern, and bracing himself there, held it out to his companions on shore, who seized it, and brought them safe to land. Being reproached for not heeding their first warnings, Jackson coolly replied: "A miss is as good as a mile; you see how near I can graze danger. Come on, and I will save you yet." Re-equipping themselves and horses, they resumed their march up the stream; and after spending another night, supperless, in the woods, found a ford the next day, and, by a circuitous route, reached a log cabin on the road, about forty miles in the rear of the Indian encampment.

At another time, he reached Bean's station, the rendezvous of a party with whom he was to cross the wilderness,

on the evening after they had left. Determined to overtake them, he employed a guide well acquainted with Indian signs and stratagems, and travelled all night. Just before day, they came to the fires where the party had encamped the first part of the night. Following on, they soon discovered, by the trail in the road, that a party of Indians, about twenty-two in number, were in pursuit of their friends ahead. They hastened forward rapidly, until they approached so near the Indians that the water, which the weight of their tread had pressed out of the rotten logs, was not yet dry. The guide now refused to proceed; but Jackson resolved to save his friends, or, at least, hazard his life in the attempt. Dividing provisions, he and his guide proceeded in opposite directions, Jackson cautiously advancing, and watching the tracks of the Indians. At length he saw where they had turned off to the right, probably for the purpose of getting ahead of the party, and attacking them from ambush, or falling upon them in the night. The danger was imminent, and pressing on with increased speed, he overtook his friends before dark. Having crossed a stream which was very deep and partly frozen over, they had halted and kindled fires, at which they were drying their clothes and baggage. Warned of their danger, they immediately resumed their march, and continued it without intermission, during the whole night and the next day. The sky was overcast with clouds, and in the evening it began to snow. While upon the route, they arrived at the log cabins of a party of hunters, and requested shelter and protection; but, contrary to their expectations, for such churlishness was unusual among men of their class, they were rudely refused. The party were therefore compelled to bivouac in the forest. Jackson was wearied with his fatiguing march, and as he had not closed his eyes for two nights, he wrapped himself in his blanket, and laid down upon the ground, where he slept soundly. When he awoke in the morning, he found himself covered with six inches of snow.

The party resumed their march, and reached their destination in safety; but they afterwards learned that the