The year 2026 marks the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Cardinal News has embarked on a project to tell the little-known stories of Virginia’s role in the march to independence. As part of this, I’m writing monthly columns about the politics of the era, written the same way I’d write them today. The events described here took place in autumn 1776. You can sign up for our monthly newsletter here:
Virginians appear to have won the war.
Not the war for independence; that war still continues, and at the moment things aren’t going particularly well for General George Washington. He’s been pushed out of New York City, but the key may be that the Continental Army survives, and as long as it does, the British cannot claim victory.
Meanwhile, there’s been another war, this one beyond the mountains to our west, the land some call the Overmountain region. (Modern editor’s note: Today we call this Tennessee.)
This is Cherokee land, land that King George III reserved for the native tribes when his government drew a line on the map down the Appalachians in 1763 and forbade settlement west of that line. If you want to trace our current revolution against the crown, that Proclamation of 1763 is a good place to start. The king thought he could hold down the cost of providing security for his North American Colonies if he could prevent war with the indigenous tribes. Virginians saw things quite differently. Many of our gentry held land claims west of that line, and many common farmers pined for that land. That created a grand coalition against the king’s policy that has now, after 13 years and many other offenses, led to war.
Virginians (and others) then proceeded to ignore the Proclamation of 1763 and settled west of the forbidden line anyway, which brought those settlers into conflict with the people already there — in the case of the Overmountain region, the Cherokee.
For those who live along the eastern coast, the western mountains seem a great wall, but if you go far enough beyond them, the land starts to level out again into what reports say is a vast, rich land ripe for settlement. Virginians have come to call this land “Kentucky,” after “kentake,” the native word for “open land” or “meadow land.”
In March 1775, a Virginian-born land speculator living in North Carolina — Richard Henderson, a native of Hanover County — took it upon himself to negotiate with the Cherokee leaders for much of Kentucky. Those Cherokee leaders ceded their claims to Henderson’s Transylvania Land Company, which envisioned an entirely new colony to be called Transylvania. (This, of course, would be in direct conflict with Virginia’s claim to Kentucky and North Carolina’s claim to lands south of Kentucky). Henderson hired the frontiersman Daniel Boone to begin the settlement; Boone has blazed a trail through the Cumberland Gap and established a settlement deep in Kentucky/Transylvania that he calls Boonesborough. Henderson has even convened a constitutional convention to draft a constitution for the new colony of Transylvania and asked the Continental Congress to recognize it. That body declined, citing how it conflicted with the land claims of Virginia and North Carolina. In June, the Virginia General Assembly went further and declared that settlers in Kentucky owed no allegiance to the Transylvania Land Company.
There were several other problems with Henderson’s rogue diplomacy, Virginia’s claim to Kentucky being the least of them. Other tribes besides the Cherokee considered Kentucky their rightful hunting lands — and not all Cherokee leaders went along with the deal. The most significant was Dragging Canoe, a young firebrand from the Great Valley beyond Virginia. (Modern editor’s note: Tennessee.) Dragging Canoe is said to have told the North Carolina land agents: “You have bought a fair land, but there is a cloud hanging over it; you will find its settlement dark and bloody.”
While older Cherokee leaders sought ways to pacify the settlers, Dragging Canoe considered this nothing more than appeasement: He vowed to fight the encroachment. This summer, Dragging Canoe personally led one war party into Kentucky. Another Cherokee leader, Hanging Maw, led another and briefly captured Boone’s teenage daughter and two friends before Boone rescued them. Other Cherokee raiders struck out at settlements in North Carolina, South Carolina and even Virginia. Cherokee raiders have ranged as far north as Abingdon, leaving a bloody trail in their wake.
At the same time that Americans were making war against the British in Boston and New York, there was another war erupting along the Blue Ridge and further west. Four newly independent states — Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia — sent their militia to fight the Cherokee. The Continental Congress decided that this was not just a regional conflict; it was a national one and also authorized a force to be sent to battle the Cherokee.
Virginia Gov. Patrick Henry named William Christian — his former law student and brother-in-law — to lead this expedition.
There has been no climactic battle, merely fire and a Cherokee retreat. Christian and his 1,800 men burned some Cherokee towns called the Overhill Towns; the Cherokee burned the rest to keep them from falling into American hands.
Once more, the Cherokee leadership has splintered. Some local leaders sent word to Christian and his advancing force that they wanted to seek peace. Dragging Canoe reportedly denounced the other Cherokee leaders as “Virginians” for their willingness to cooperate. “As for me, I have my young warriors about me. We will have our lands,” he supposedly told the others. With that, he has moved further west to make his stand there if it comes to that. [Modern editor’s note: Dragging Canoe established a new base near modern-day Chattanooga.]
The two sides met a few weeks ago for a conference, although Dragging Canoe did not take part. The offer from Christian was the same as it’s always been: Land for peace. The Cherokee leaders (other than Dragging Canoe) appear to have accepted this bargain and plan to send a delegation to Williamsburg in the spring to meet with Gov. Henry to finalize the deal.
For now, the western front appears to have been quieted. The Cherokee towns have been burned, the Cherokee themselves pushed further west — until it comes time for yet another confrontation. In the meantime, we await word from the north, where both Washington and the British appear to be settling in for the winter.
[Modern editor’s note: A Cherokee delegation met with Henry in March 1777. Dragging Canoe continued fighting settlers until his death in 1792.]
