This was the first permanent settlement made at Port Royal. But fourteen years earlier, 1775, the historian tells us of tragic scenes enacted thereabouts, as follows:
“A famous hunter by the name of Manscoe, and three companions, camped a few weeks near where Sulphur Fork Creek empties into Red River, and here Manscoe had an adventure with some Indians. Having discovered from their trail, that a hunting party of some sort was in the vicinity, he went alone to ascertain if possible who they were.
“On the bank of the river, he saw a camp fire, and creeping as close as he dared, he saw two Indians, whom he recognized as belonging to the Black Feet tribe. Manscoe was about to retire to carry the news to his companions, when one of the Indians arose and came directly toward him. Manscoe fired, and the Indian wheeled and ran about fifty yards past his own camp fire and fell dead over the bluff into the river. The other Indian made quick time away from the fatal spot, not knowing, it was supposed, how many whites were in the attacking party. Manscoe not knowing the number of savages, beat a hasty retreat also. Joining his comrades, he returned in a few hours, accompanied by them, to find the fugitive Indian had, in the meantime, been to his camp, packed his scant belongings on his pony, and left for parts unknown. They followed close on his trail, the remainder of the day, but never found him.
“Knowing that the Indians would soon return in full force to avenge the death of their comrade, Manscoe and his party left the country within the next few hours, but terribly was the death of this Indian afterwards avenged. In 1794, ten years after Clarksville, Tenn., had been incorporated and named, Col. Isaac Titsworth, and his brother John, with their families, moved from North Carolina to the Cumberland country. They intended locating on Red River, and on the night of October 24, 1794, camped at the mouth of Sulphur Fork Creek, near where the Indian had been shot by Manscoe. That night a party of fifty Creek Indians stole upon them, taking them completely by surprise. Seven of the party, including Col. Titsworth and his brother, and their wives were killed and scalped. A negro woman was badly wounded, but crawled off in the woods and escaped. The Indians carried off six prisoners, a negro man, a white man, a grown daughter of Col. Titsworth, and three little children. Great excitement reigned, and in a few hours a party of white men was organized and on their trail. The Indians discovering their approach, tomahawked the children and scalped them, taking off the whole skins of their heads. The white man and the negro, they either killed or carried off with their daughter; none of the three were ever heard from.”
As far back as 1807, the citizenship of Port Royal received favorable comment, as the following from “The Life and Times of Elder Reuben Ross,” will show:
“Although not a great deal could be said in praise of the small village of Port Royal, in itself, near which we are now living, it would be safe to say, no finer citizenship could have been found anywhere at this time than in the country around it, extending into Robertson and Montgomery counties. In evidence of this, one need only to mention such names as Fort, Norfleet, Northington, Dortch, Baker, Cheatham, Washington, Bryant, Turner, Blount (Gov. Willie Blount), Johnson, and others. They were generally men of large stature, dignified and patriarchal in their bearing, many of them wealthy, very hospitable, and always ready to assist those who needed assistance, especially strangers who came to settle among them.”
While the lordly old masters have drifted away with the “days that are dust,” the posterity of a fine antebellum citizenship lingers yet with us to bless and beautify the hills and vales of dear old Port Royal.