One of the most remarkable pioneer fights, in the early history of the west, was that waged by Captain James Estill, and seventeen of his associates, on the 22d of March, 1782, with a party of Wyandotte Indians, twenty-five in number. Seventy-one years almost have elapsed since; yet one of the actors in that sanguinary struggle, Rev. Joseph Proctor, of Estill county, Kentucky, survived to the 2d of December, 1844, dying in the full enjoyment of his faculties at the age of ninety. His wife, the partner of his early privations and toils, and nearly as old as himself, deceased six months previously.

On the 19th of March 1782, Indian rafts, without any one on them, were seen floating down the Kentucky river, past Boonesborough. Intelligence of this fact was immediately dispatched by Colonel Logan to Captain Estill, at his station fifteen miles from Boonesborough, and near the present site of Richmond, Kentucky, together with a force of fifteen men, who were directed to march from Lincoln county to Estill’s assistance, instructing Captain Estill, if the Indians had not appeared there, to scour the country with a reconnoitring party, as it could not be known at what point the attack would be made.

Estill lost not a moment in collecting a force to go in search of the savages, not doubting, from his knowledge of the Indian character, that they designed an immediate blow at his or some of the neighboring stations. From his own and the nearest stations, he raised twenty-five men. Whilst Estill and his men were on this excursion, the Indians suddenly appeared around his station at the dawn of day, on the 20th of March, killed and scalped Miss Innes, and took Munk, a slave of Captain Estill, captive. The Indians immediately and hastily retreated, in consequence of a highly exaggerated account which Munk gave them of the strength of the station, and number of fighting men in it. No sooner had the Indians commenced their retreat, than the women in the fort (the men being all absent except one on the sick list,) dispatched two boys, the late General Samuel South and Peter Hacket, to take the trail of Captain Estill and his men, and, overtaking them, give information of what had occurred at the fort. The boys succeeded in coming up with Captain Estill early on the morning of the 21st, between the mouths of Drowning creek and Red river. After a short search, Captain Estill’s party struck the trail of the retreating Indians. It was resolved at once to make pursuit, and no time was lost in doing so. Five men of the party, however, who had families in the fort, feeling uneasy for their safety, and unwilling to trust their defence to the few who remained there, returned to the fort, leaving Captain Estill’s party thirty-five in number. These pressed the pursuit of the retreating Indians, as rapidly as possible, but night coming on they encamped near the Little Mountain, at present the site of Mount Sterling.

Early next morning they put forward, being obliged to leave ten of the men behind, whose horses were too jaded to travel further. They had not proceeded far until they discovered by fresh tracks of the Indians, that they were not far distant. They then marched in four lines until about an hour before sunset, when they discovered six of the savages helping themselves to rations from the body of a buffalo which they had killed. The company was ordered to dismount. With the usual impetuosity of Kentuckians, some of the party fired without regarding orders, and the Indians fled. One of the party, a Mr. David Cook, who acted as ensign, exceedingly ardent and active, had proceeded in advance of the company, and seeing an Indian halt, raised his gun and fired. At the same moment another Indian crossed on the opposite side, and they were both leveled with the same shot. This occurring in view of the whole company, inspired them all with a high degree of confidence. In the meantime, the main body of Indians had heard the alarm and returned, and the two hostile parties exactly matched in point of numbers, having twenty-five on each side, and were now face to face. The ground was highly favorable to the Indian mode of warfare; but Captain Estill and his men, without a moment’s hesitation, boldly and fearlessly commenced an attack upon them, and the latter as boldly and fearlessly (for they were picked warriors) engaged in the bloody combat. It is, however, disgraceful to relate, that, at the very onset of the action, Lieutenant Miller, of Captain Estill’s party, with six men under his command, “ingloriously fled” from the field, thereby placing in jeopardy the whole of their comrades, and causing the death of many brave soldiers. Hence, Estill’s party numbered eighteen, and the Wyandottes twenty-five.

The flank becoming thus unprotected, Captain Estill directed Cook with three men to occupy Miller’s station, and repel the attack in that quarter to which this base act of cowardice exposed the whole party. The ensign with his party were taking the position assigned, when one of them discovered an Indian and shot him, and the three retreated to a little eminence whence they thought greater execution could be effected with less danger to themselves, but Cook continued to advance without noticing the absence of his party until he had discharged his gun with effect, when he immediately retreated, but after running some distance to a large tree, for the purpose of shelter in firing, he unfortunately got entangled in the tops of fallen timber, and halting for a moment, received a ball which struck him just below the shoulder blade, and came out below his collar bone. In the meantime, on the main field of battle, at the distance of fifty yards, the fight raged with great fury, lasting one hour and three-quarters. On either side wounds and death were inflicted, neither party advancing or retreating. “Every man to his man, and every man to his tree.” Captain Estill at this period was covered with blood from a wound received early in the action; nine of his brave companions lay dead upon the field; and four others were so disabled by their wounds, as to be unable to continue the fight. Captain Estill’s fighting men were now reduced to four. Among this number was Joseph Proctor.

Captain Estill, the brave leader of this Spartan band, was now brought into a personal conflict with a powerful and active Wyandotte warrior. The conflict was for a time fierce and desperate, and keenly and anxiously watched by Proctor, with his finger on the trigger of his unerring rifle. Such, however, was the struggle between these fierce and powerful warriors, that Proctor could not shoot without greatly endangering the safety of his captain. Estill had had his arm broken the preceding summer in an engagement with the Indians; and, in the conflict with the warrior on this occasion, that arm gave way, and in an instant his savage foe buried his knife in Captain Estill’s breast; but in the very same moment, the brave Proctor sent a ball from his rifle to the Wyandotte’s heart. The survivors then drew off as by mutual consent.—Thus ended this memorable battle. It wanted nothing but the circumstance of numbers to make it the most memorable in ancient or modern times. The loss of the Indians, in killed and wounded, notwithstanding the disparity of numbers after the shameful retreat of Miller, was even greater than that of Captain Estill.

It was afterwards ascertained by prisoners who were recaptured from the Wyandotte, that seventeen of the Indians had been killed, and two severely wounded. This battle was fought on the same day, with the disastrous battle of the Blue Licks, March 22d, 1782.

There is a tradition derived from the Wyandotte towns, after the peace, that but one of the warriors engaged in this battle ever returned to his nation. It is certain that the chief who led on the Wyandottes with so much desperation, fell in the action. Throughout this bloody engagement the coolness and bravery of Proctor were unsurpassed. But his conduct after the battle has always, with those acquainted with it, elicited the warmest commendation. He brought off the field of battle, and most of the way to the station, a distance of forty miles, on his back, his badly wounded friend, the late brave Colonel William Irvine, so long and so favorably known in Kentucky.