Robert Hemingray

BATTLE OF THE BLUE LICKS.

Preparations for its Centennial - A Trip

to the Battle Ground.

Preparations are quietly in progress here for a celebration on August 19th of next year of the one-hundredth anniversary of the battle of the Blue Licks. To every reader - no matter how casual - of the early history of this portion of the country, the story of the battle of the Licks is familiar, and to all it brings up memories of Boone and Kenton and Todd and McGary and Logan, and a host of others whose names are interwoven with the early history of this grand old Commonwealth. To all the name of "the Blue Licks" is suggestive of these men and their brave deeds, but much more so is the visit to the battle-ground itself and to the scenes of their personal presence years ago. Here, at this Blue Lick Spring, less than a hundred yards from this handsome hotel, where thousands now gather to spend the summer months and drink from the health-giving waters, Daniel Boone drank from the health-giving spring, boiled its sparkling waters into snowy salt for use in the cabin and at the camp-fire, and here, more than a century ago, on February 7, 1788, he was captured by the Indians.

At the road side, as I drove from Carlisle, on the Kentucky Central Railroad, I saw a huge oak tree in whose branches he once hid from the Indians who were following him on the "buffalo trail," which led to the springs. At the springs, which flow yet with all the vigor and wealth of medicinal virtues of years ago, are yet visible remains of the furnaces where salt was boiled by the pioneers of a century ago, and at the "Battle-ground Church," near by is to be seen the earthen quadrangle thrown up by the Indians, from behind which they shot the unsuspecting deer and buffaloes as they came to the Licks in throngs. The attractions which these springs seem to have had for the wild animals of a century ago was something wonderful. All along where now runs the Maysville & Lexington Turnpike was a buffalo trail, broad and deep, and trod by thousands of those noble animals. Through the woods adjoining the springs the ground was made bare of verdure by their hungry jaws and trampled by their thousands of hoofs. Even in prehistoric times this spring must have been a resort for animals, for in digging about it a few years since, putting in place the dome which now stands above it, there were found remains of an immense animal exceeding in size anything ever seen alive upon this continent. One tusk found was over six feet long, nearly two feet in circumference where broken off, and weighed about 100 pounds, while some of the teeth found weighed eight pounds each, and were more than six inches in width.

I paid, on Saturday, a visit to the battle-ground, which lies only a short distance from the hotel. It is a high, rocky point, overgrown with cedars, the ravines on either side, where lay the savages concealed, densely filled with trees and undergrowth, as on that eventful day, August 19, 1782. Within sight almost of the smoothly macadamized pike which runs along the brow of the hill, stands the stump of the tree around which Boone and the little band of heroes made their last rally, and on the hill above the repose under a rude pile of stones, the bones of the fearless men whom the impetuous but erring McGary led to their death in that fatal ambuscade. These landmarks, with an occasional arrowhead found on the battle-ground, are all that remains, save the field itself, as spectators of the event to be so soon celebrated.

On the battle-ground "Little Kentuck," the noted guide and Indian hunter of the far West, who had accompanied me to point out the spots of interest, picked up among the stones which covered the ground, a couple of broken heads, and handed me as souvenirs of the trip. "I have no doubt," he said in reply to a question of mine, "that they were fired during the battle, for there was no other occasion for their presence here. This was not a hunting place, you see; it was right at the springs, or along the buffalo trail where the Indians hunted."

The contrast between the Blue Licks then and now is very strongly marked. The spring is itself the same. The medicinal properties of its waters have not changed, nor has its flow lessened. From its crystal depths the gas from that unknown reservoir still bubbles up at all hours, at the fountain of health still gather the inhabitants from far and near to drink of the waters so freely furnished by nature.

But the surroundings are very different. Now, a few yards distant from the spring stands a handsome hotel building, with accommodations for nearly five hundred guests, and a little further away another of less dimensions, but equal popularity. The "Arlington" and the "La rue" were last year crowded to their utmost capacity during the summer months with people coming here to enjoy the advantages of a comfortable and yet quite summer resort.

Among the names on the register I find those of Senator Pendleton, of Cincinnati; Governor Bishop's family, Robert Hemingray's family, Senator Farley, of California; Judge Wallace, of California; Col. G. C. Zenor, of Louisiana; Hon. Wm. Abner, of South Carolina; Rev. J. V. Logan, of Richmond, Va.; Hon. Geo. Vincent and wife, of New Orleans; Ben. Gratz, Jr., of St. Louis; and others of note.

The "Arlington" stands on the spot occupied by the old hotel burned during the war, and almost in reach from its broad veranda at the front stand some venerable flowering trees planted by the had of Henry Clay on his return from Europe many years ago. This new hotel has brilliant prospects, and with good management seems likely to restore to "The Licks" all the popularity of years agone. It is a handsome structure with over a quarter of a mile of verandas, light airy rooms, a huge ball room, billiards, bowling alley, roller-skating, swings, and a beautiful lawn as accessories. Beneath are bathing apartments where guests disport themselves in Blue Lick water hot and cold "adlibitum." On the Licking, which flows near by, are dainty pleasure boats, and telephones and telegraph connect you with the outside world, and in the stables wait a fleet of Kentucky horses and elegant turnouts to whirl you over the pike to the Kentucky Central Railroad, a few miles away, where in costly coaches and luxurious reclining chairs you enjoy a short ride through beautiful and varied scenery to Cincinnati. What a change the century has wrought!