David Crockett_ The Lion of the West - Michael Wallis [45]
One of the best examples of Crockett’s strong attachment to his roots also reveals how obsessive he became about staying out of debt. This was undoubtedly a result of witnessing his father’s constant struggle with creditors. When David departed Jefferson County in 1811, he also left behind an outstanding debt of one dollar borrowed from John Jacobs, the farmer he had once worked for, splitting rails.1 Knowing that the debt had not been forgiven nagged at Crockett for a decade. In his mind, a debt, no matter how small, had to be paid off. It was a matter of personal honor and reputation.
John L. Jacobs, the son of the man to whom Crockett owed that single dollar, clearly recalled the day that debt was paid off. It was in 1821, and Crockett was back in east Tennessee, leading a herd of horses he intended to sell in North Carolina.
“One morning I was standing in the door next to the main road,” said Jacobs in 1884, reminiscing about early times in the hills of Jefferson County. “I looked down the road toward Mossy Creek and saw a fine looking man riding in front of a large drove of horses. He rode opposite me and stopped and asked me if my mother was in the house. I answered she was. ‘Tell her to come to the door.’ I did so, and when she appeared he said, ‘How do you do, Mrs. Jacobs?’ My mother said, ‘Sir, you have the advantage of me.’ ‘I am Davy Crockett,’ responded he. ‘Is that you Davy?’ said my mother. ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘this is Davy Crockett.’”2
Once he was recognized, there followed a general shaking of hands and an exchange of small talk about family members’ health and other news from the past ten years. At that moment, explained Jacobs, “his horses came rushing by and nearly got ahead of him.” David quickly thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out a silver dollar, and handed it to the startled woman. “Here, Madam, is a dollar I owed your husband, John Jacobs, when I left this country,” Crockett told her.
“My father had died in the meantime,” his son later wrote. “My mother said, ‘Davy, I don’t want it.’” Crockett could not accept her response. “I owed it,” he said, “and you have to take it.” The woman complied and took the coin, and with no further ado Crockett rode off to sell his horses.3
Much had transpired in Crockett’s life during the years after leaving east Tennessee, in what became an endless search for the right place to settle. He found himself caught up in the great westward migration just like thousands of others—mostly poor and, often, desperate people searching for a fresh start. In October of 1811, the desire to settle in newly opened land brought Crockett to Lincoln County, Tennessee. Named for Revolutionary War General Benjamin Lincoln, the county had been formed in 1809 and was said to have much fertile soil. “The Duck and Elk river country was just beginning to settle, and I was determined to try that,”4 wrote Crockett.
He was issued a warrant for five acres of land south of the headwaters of Mulberry Creek, a branch of the Elk River that divided Lincoln County into two nearly equal parts. With the assistance of Billy Finley, he cleared sassafras and brush on a rise that he dubbed “Hungry Hill” and hastily built a makeshift cabin to shelter Polly and the two boys. They dug a well and built a fence corral for Crockett’s old horse and pair of two-year-old colts. As he had done before at Finley’s Gap, Crockett carved his initials, “D.C.,” in a soaring beech tree on the property line.5
“I found this a very rich country, and so new, that game, of different sorts, was very plenty,” Crockett wrote of the family’s latest home. “It was here that I began to distinguish myself as a hunter, and, to lay the foundation for all my future greatness;