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SPIES OF FORT HARROD and CLARK'S POWDER RUN
By JOHN CURRY
Many thrilling incidents from the pages of our American history are notable — deserving to be commemorated and quite often — recreated. Nonetheless, every once in a blue moon, we run across something that sounds more like a multi-million dollar, made-for-Hollywood, movie script than it does an actual, real-life, historic occurrence. Renowned patriot, George Rogers Clark, along with the bold and daring spies of Fort Harrod, played a pivotal role in one such remarkable backwoods drama, straight from the darkest days of the American Revolution.
Surprisingly, near the end of the year 1776, the much besieged frontier settlements of Kentucky were essentially, out of gunpowder. Departing for Williamsburg, Va., Clark left his headquarters (located in the southeastern blockhouse of Fort Harrod) with an abbreviated “wish list.”
The old southwestern, colonial-era frontier stood in serious want of many things. Their nearly complete lack of gunpowder however, was about to destroy them.
Made aware of Kentucky’s precarious position, Gov. Patrick Henry formally notified Virginia’s executive council. Western Kentucky University professor of history, Lowell H. Harrison tells us: “Obtaining a favorable letter from the governor, Clark appeared before the executive council and requested 500 pounds of powder for the defense of Kentucky. His argument that the western settlements could not survive without it was accepted by the councilors... Shortly thereafter, Clark and Gabriel Jones were instructed to make their way north to Fort Pitt. Once arrived, they were to present Virginia’s official, written note to the commanding officer and thereby, claim their critically needed powder. At Fort Pitt, the pair recruited a small group of men to assist them in transporting said black powder down the Ohio and then up the wild Kentucky to Fort Harrod.
With nameless, faceless, unidentified Tories on all sides, conveniently disguised as patriots and no skulking Indians lounging about, feigning friendship; both the British and their hostile Native cohorts were in fact, well aware of this upcoming, desperate maneuver. Doubtless, young Clark’s every move was being subtly observed and critiqued by the enemy. Still, Clark was not a man to be easily predicted or out-foxed.
Inconspicuously slipping away from Fort Pitt, cloaked by the dead of night, into the massive, half-frozen, Ohio River, Clark’s little band silently began their long, journey downstream unobserved. Five hundred pounds of high quality, rifle-grade gunpowder in tow and the success or failure of Kentucky resting squarely on their shoulders, one can only imagine the tremendous responsibilities they surely must have felt.
Swiftly making their way down the big river, Clark and his companions were forced to play a chilling game of “cat-and-mouse” amidst numerous bands of determined Indian war parties. At that point, Harrison laments: “As they neared Limestone Creek on the Kentucky shore, Clark decided that they were about to be overtaken. Unwilling to run the risk of losing his cargo, he buried the powder in several spots and continued downstream for a few miles before abandoning the boats.”
Scrambling back down to Fort Harrod a bit before New Years Day of 1777, I always imagine Clark must have told the besieged settlers: “Well folks, I’ve got some good news and bad news. Good news is, Virginia gave us all the black powder we asked for. Bad news? I had to bury it up on the Ohio River — over 100 miles away.”
Nevertheless, and not to be denied so crucial a necessity; professor Harrison happily observes: “A week later, James Harrod and 30 riflemen recovered the powder ...” Once again, the stouthearted spies of Fort Harrod come through to save the day, relocating their expertly hidden cache — securing all that precious gunpowder and bringing it safely back to Fort Harrod through miles and miles of hostile, Indian-infested wilderness. Then rapidly and thoughtfully distributing it out among the various other hard-pressed Kentucky forts and stations. A perilous, difficult job well done — a potential catastrophe narrowly averted.
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