Big Harpe was dead, Little Harpe had vanished into the wilderness and the women had again been spared through public sympathy with their apparent helplessness and misfortunes. What was to become of them and of Little Harpe and of the seven determined men who had run down the gigantic monster? How were these men rewarded for their heroism? The records, hunted down with the utmost patience, constitute a new story in which mystery, tragedy, suspicion and pathos all enter to bring about poetic justice. It enables us also to get closer to these terrible personalities.

First as to the seven avengers. On December 16, 1799, the Kentucky Legislature passed “An Act directing the payment of money to John Leiper and others.” The preamble stated that “Micajah Harpe, a notorious offender” had committed “the most unheard of murders” and the Governor on April 22, had offered a reward of three hundred dollars “for the apprehension of said Harpe.” It recites its enactment because “sundry good citizens ... were, while in the attempt to apprehend him, reduced to the necessity of slaying him,” and further declares by its enactment all doubt as to the right of these men to the reward is removed. The money was ordered paid to “John Leiper, James Tompkins, Silas McBee, Mathew Christian, Moses Stegall, Neville Lindsey, and William Gresham ... one hundred of which shall be appropriated to the said John Leiper, and the residue to be equally divided among the others.” The second clause shows that “Alexander M’Farling, John M’Farling, Daniel M’Farling, and Robert White, who from motives of public good incurred very considerable expense and toil in the pursuit of the said Harpe and his associates ... be allowed one hundred and fifty dollars.” These four men probably lived near Danville, and, as previously noted, had been appointed by the governor to take charge of the Harpes should they be found “in any adjacent state.”

Five of the men who captured and killed Big Harpe fared well. Tompkins and Matthew Christian continued to live in Henderson County, where they died old and highly respected citizens. William Grissom, about 1810, moved to southern Illinois where he continued the life of a well-to-do farmer. Neville Lindsey was identified with the development of west Tennessee. Squire Silas McBee opened up a plantation in Pontotoc County, Mississippi, and ranked among the best and most prominent men in that state. It was there, in 1841, he met the historian Draper, to whom he supplied much data relative to King’s Mountain and also the facts used for his “Sketch of the Harpes.”

As for Stegall and Leiper, the immediate executioners of Big Harpe, no sooner had they sprung into public notice by reason of their acts, than they were enveloped in a mystery of suspicion almost as deep as that surrounding the Harpes themselves. It has grown deeper with time, though their deaths within eight years after the tragedy of the death chase rendered the suspicion more sinister and seemed to confirm it.

It appears that John Leiper had not only seen the Harpes before he joined the band in the chase, but was strongly suspected of having been secretly involved in some of their crimes committed in central Kentucky. In April, 1799, when Colonel Trabue’s boy was killed by the Harpes, “Leiper then resided in Adair County and knew the Trabue family well.” [12E] He probably lived near “old Mr. Roberts,” the father-in-law of Big Harpe, who then had a farm in that part of Adair County which, in 1825, became a part of Russell County. Hypocrite that he was, in all likelihood, he joined some of the men who had gone out to hunt the murderer of John Trabue. For some reason he left that section shortly after the Harpes appeared on the scene. He may have feared that the two outlaws had planned to establish themselves near “old man Roberts” and therefore went to Henderson County, where he was least likely to see them again, and so escape any vengeance they might see fit to execute upon him for joining the posse. Thus, not to begin a better life but to escape death, he left Adair County for parts unknown. On July 3, of the same year, the Henderson County grand jury found an indictment against him for “living in adultery with Ann L. Allen, from the 20th day of last May.”

When Leiper was asked to join in the Harpe chase it was observed that he hesitated, saying he had no proper horse for such work, but that if Captain Robert Robertson’s could be procured, he would go. When such arrangement was made, Leiper boastingly declared that if he got sight of either of the Harpes he “would stick to the chase until he killed them or they killed him.” Later, when Leiper and Christian overtook Big Harpe, shortly before he was killed, the outlaw called to Leiper, “I told you to stay back or I’d kill you,” and Leiper replied, “My business with you is for one or the other of us to be killed.” These and other remarks, as later interpreted by the other pursuers, indicated that more than a casual acquaintance existed between Leiper and the Harpes. Although applauded for taking part in the killing of Big Harpe, and thus ridding the country of a scourge, he was nevertheless condemned for his motive in doing so. He “died suddenly of winter fever some time during the winter of the cold Friday” (Friday, February 6, 1807). Up to the day of his death he was looked upon as a suspicious character by all his neighbors and so, being unworthy of trust and an outcast, lived and died friendless. [12E]

Moses Stegall was at first the hero of heroes in the returning band. He had suffered the loss of his wife, child, and home, and it seems that fate itself had destined him to strike the last deserved blow. He had been regarded as a questionable character, yet no one could trace any particular crime to him. The report of the tragic manner in which he had put an end to Big Harpe kept in the background, for a time, all unfavorable reports heretofore heard. But it soon became apparent that he, too, had a hidden motive in taking so active a part in the pursuit of the outlaws. It was recalled that when he discovered that Big Harpe had been wounded, but was still able to talk, he had stepped forward and deliberately cut off his head. This act was, at the dreadful instant, regarded by the excited spectators as one highly deserved as far as Harpe was concerned, but for Stegall it was soon suspected to have been an act whereby he could silence the tongue of a dangerously wounded man who might still survive sufficiently to reveal some of the lawlessness in which Stegall himself was implicated. That this was his motive is verified by a number of authorities. Draper, after a conversation with General Thomas Love, of Tennessee, who was a cousin of Major William Love, and whose wife was a cousin of Thomas Langford, noted this: “The company, before his arrival, had some confession from Harpe, and Stegall was afraid he would be implicated and wanted him out of the way, for Stegall bore a bad character. Parson Henry says it was suspected that Stegall purposely left his home to give the Harpes an opportunity to kill his victims.” [12E]

Forty years after Big Harpe was killed, a preacher traveling from Lexington, Kentucky, by way of the Henderson and Harpe’s Head Road to Mammoth Cave, heard the tradition of the capture of Harpe as then told in the neighborhood where Stegall lived. Relative to Stegall’s motive, he wrote: “As for Stegall, he never bore a good character and his excessive zeal and forwardness created new suspicions against him as being an accomplice of Harpe whom he might wish effectually to prevent from betraying him by a precipitate death under colour of vengeance.” [38]

Governor John Reynolds, in his comments on the notoriety of some of the settlers who, in pioneer days, lived in Illinois near Ford’s Ferry and Cave-in-Rock, pictures the last scene in Stegall’s life: “In 1806, at the place, ten miles from the Ohio, where Potts resided afterwards, on the road west of the river, a bloody tragedy was acted. A man named Stegall—the same who assisted to kill one of the Harpes in Kentucky—eloped with a young girl and made the above place his residence.... Two or three brothers of the seduced girl, and her father, followed them from Trade Water, Kentucky, the residence of the father.... They found Stegall and the others sitting up under a gallery outside of the cabin, with a lamp burning. The assailing party advanced in silence and secrecy, near Stegall, and shot him without doing any of the others any injury whatever ... and brought back the deluded girl to her home and family.” [102]

Thus within about a half dozen years after Stegall and Leiper helped to capture Big Harpe they had passed into the Great Beyond. Tradition insists that but for the persistence of these two men, the other five would have abandoned the hunt for the Harpes—as many others had done elsewhere—and both outlaws, in all probability, would have escaped to add more crimes to their long list.16

Such is the story of the Harpes and their principal crimes. No doubt regarding these crimes existed in the various localities. How many similar deeds they actually committed will never be discovered, for in the sparsely settled country isolated settlers could, and often did, disappear without leaving any trace of their fate and in many instances travelers who were killed were missed by no one.

There also hangs somewhat of a veil of personal mystery over these criminals. Who were the Harpes and what sort of men were they in appearance and bearing? Who were the three women that, from choice or because of terror of their mates, lived through such terrible experience with them, bore children to them and so became forever linked with the history of these horrible outlaws?

Whether or not the two Harpes were brothers and the two “wives” of Big Harpe sisters, is, after all, a question that is not definitely settled by any authoritative record or direct testimony that has yet been produced. At this date it seems unlikely that any further proof of their origin, names or relationship will ever be discovered. When they were active it was necessary to their safety to assume various false names. They changed clothing to such an extent as they could, in order to avoid pursuit and capture, as well as to avoid suspicion among those they might later approach as intended victims.

They certainly seem to have been brothers in crime and brutality; but were they brothers by birth? The supposed wife and the “supplementary” wife of Big Harpe were, in the same degree, sisters in their toleration of his crimes, but were they actually sisters through one sire? Throughout the story the view has been taken that the two men were brothers and the two women sisters, for such was the prevailing belief. All the contemporary and early subsequent accounts so refer to them, except Smith, who, in his Legends of the War of Independence, published in 1855, says the men were first cousins. He designates Micajah or “Big” Harpe as “William Harpe,” a son of John Harpe, and Wiley or “Little” Harpe as “Joshua Harpe,” a son of William Harpe, who was a brother of John Harpe. Smith also represents Susan, the wife of Big Harpe, as a daughter of Captain John Wood, and Betsey, Big Harpe’s supplementary wife, as Maria Davidson, a daughter of Captain John Davidson. Their fathers, he says, were North Carolinians, both captains in the Revolutionary army, but in no wise related by blood. Concerning the two women, he says that they were abducted by the Harpes and became their “involuntary wives.” He ignores the fact that the two women seem to have taken no advantage of any of the chances they had to escape from these villains, and is likewise apparently ignorant of the fact that the third woman, Sally Rice, the wife of Little Harpe, was associated with the outlaws during their most outrageous actions. This same writer says that “Big Harpe and Joshua Harpe” fought at King’s Mountain in October, 1780, and were about twenty years old at that time, whereas all other records show the two men could not then have reached the age of ten.

Smith cites no authority for his various statements, although in the preface to his book he declares that he obtained his materials for his pioneer day sketches by questioning survivors of the times and the events. It is also observed that no other writers of that time present authority for the statements they make as to the origin and relationships of the Harpe band.

Breazeale, himself a resident of Knoxville, had opportunities to gather on the ground early recollections of them. In 1842 he wrote that when the Harpes appeared there in 1797 or 1798, they “professed” to have come from Georgia, “represented” themselves to be brothers, and “said” their name was Harpe. He is careful to add, “whether their real name was Harpe or not, no one knew; nor was it ever ascertained where they had been born and brought up, or who were their relatives.” As they soon turned out to be thieves and were driven away from the neighborhood of Knoxville, it is at least possible that the relationship, the name and all else they gave out might have been assumed and false in order to cover their tracks from a former place. After the murder of Langford in Lincoln County in 1799, they were both indicted under the name of Roberts, which they had evidently assumed and under which they pleaded and were held. It may be suggested here that if Roberts was the true name of Big Harpe’s two “wives,” a shrewd criminal would, it seems, hesitate to assume it as an alias, for the name would help identify him. After their escape from the Danville jail the governor in his proclamation of reward for their capture called them “Harpe alias Roberts,” which shows that their actual names were unknown. It is reasonable to assume that they used false names as the necessity arose. When, in Henderson County, they represented themselves as “preachers,” they must have used fictitious names for the occasion. The name of Harpe became so full of terror and their description as “big” and “little” brothers was so broadcast, that change of name, appearance and pretended occupation was necessary to their safe movement. It will later appear that Little Harpe, after his escape from Kentucky, assumed various names, none of which he had used before and one of which he signed under oath to an official document.17

Having told of some of the deeds the Harpes committed, an effort is now made to picture to the readers how the monsters looked who could and did commit these crimes. The career of the Harpes was so swift and so veiled by its criminal nature, that the opportunities to examine in detail their appearance and manner was very brief. “Dead men tell no tales” and since those who saw the Harpes at their work were usually victims, they could leave no record. Those who have left descriptions received them from others who had had them second hand. When the difference in observers and conditions is considered, and when the disguises and changes of attire and situation are allowed for, it is surprising to find that a plausible and convincing portrait is made of Big Harpe.

As already stated, Judge James Hall, in April, 1824, published in The Port Folio a brief account of one of the crimes committed by the Harpes, and having been accused of having written a story “unworthy of belief,” he published in the same magazine about a year later an account of another of their murders and convinced his critics and other readers that his stories of the Harpe atrocities were true. Judge Hall evidently continued his investigation of the Harpes, and seems to have made a special effort to gather data relative to their personal appearance. He realized that fiction is often a better visualizer of persons and their acts than is formal history. So when, in 1833, he published his romance entitled Harpe’s Head, and later republished it under the title of Kentucky, A Tale, his readers were given a striking picture of the Harpes, and especially of Big Harpe. In his preface to this romance he states that although the tale is the “offspring of invention,” nevertheless “two of the characters [the two Harpes] introduced are historical and their deeds are still freshly remembered by many of the early settlers of Kentucky.” Their acts were, he explains “of a character too atrocious for recital in a work of this description ... and have therefore been merely introduced into a tale wholly fictitious.”

Judge Hall’s description of Big Harpe is as follows:

“His appearance was too striking not to rivet attention. In size he towered above the ordinary stature, his frame was bony and muscular, his breast broad, his limbs gigantic. His clothing was uncouth and shabby, his exterior weatherbeaten and dirty, indicating continual exposure to the elements, and pointing out this singular person as one who dwelt far from the habitations of men, and who mingled not in the courtesies of civilized life. He was completely armed, with the exception of a rifle, which seemed to have only been laid aside for a moment, for he carried the usual powder horn and pouch of the backwoodsman. A broad leathern belt, drawn closely around his waist, supported a large and a smaller knife and a tomahawk. But that which attracted the gaze of all ... was his bold and ferocious countenance, and its strongly marked expression of villainy. His face, which was larger than ordinary, exhibited the lines of ungovernable passion, but the complexion announced that the ordinary feelings of the human breast were extinguished, and instead of the healthy hue which indicates the social emotions, there was a livid, unnatural redness, resembling that of a dried and lifeless skin. The eye was fearless and steady, but it was also artful and audacious, glaring upon the beholder with an unpleasant fixedness and brilliancy, like that of a ravenous animal gloating upon its prey and concentrating all its malignity into one fearful glance. He wore no covering on his head, and the natural protection of thick, coarse hair, of a fiery redness, uncombed and matted, gave evidence of long exposure to the rudest visitations of the sunbeam and the tempest. He seemed some desperate outlaw, an unnatural enemy of his species, destitute of the nobler sympathies of human nature, and prepared at all points for assault or defense.”18

It is a vivid, splendid sketch full-length; a portraiture in full keeping with the idea of a super-criminal and his crimes. In all points except one it is sustained as to its faithfulness by the scattered fragments of description that have come down to us from others speaking independently. The disputed point is the color of his hair. Instead of the “fiery redness” that Hall has set down every other witness makes it black. The fact quite well agreed upon that Little Harpe’s hair was red, suggests that in this particular Hall’s memory confounded the two. In Governor Garrard’s proclamation offering a reward for their capture, Big Harpe is described as being “about six feet high, of robust make,” “built very straight,” “full fleshed in the face,” “ill-looking downcast countenance,” “his hair black and short but comes very much down his forehead.” Trabue says “the big man is pale, dark, swarthy, has bushy hair.” Breazeale says he was a “very large, brawny-limbed, big-boned man” and “of a most vicious, savage and ferocious countenance,” while Stewart [12F] reports him as “among the tallest class of men, say six feet two to six feet four inches” and with “sunken black eyes, a downcast, sour look; dark hair and high cheek bones.” As to the hair being short or long, Draper, as already stated, recorded in one of his unpublished note books the pungent and grim picture of Big Harpe’s wife being compelled, after his death, to carry his decapitated head some distance “by the hair.” There were evidently times when the hair of both Harpes was, by force of circumstances, long and times when it was short during that terrible year they scoured the wilderness. But Big Harpe’s hair was probably black or dark and may have been curly.

Little Harpe seems to have passed comparatively unobserved in the presence of his gigantic elder. Governor Garrard’s proclamation does not even mention Little Harpe’s height, but says he “is very meager in his face, has short black hair, but not quite so curly as his brother’s, he looks older, though really younger.” His countenance was also “downcast.” Hall says he “was smaller in size, but having the same suspicious exterior, his countenance equally fierce and sinister.” Breazeale passes his appearance over, while Stewart, who probably got his account of Little Harpe from the latter’s wife while she was in his custody, merely says he was “somewhat under common size, had light hair, blue eyes and a handsome look.” It may be thought that the wife formulated that description to lead his pursuers astray. But the Frankfort Guardian of Freedom, of February 29, 1804, four years after Big Harpe’s death, contained an extract “from a letter from a gentleman in the Mississippi territory,” written January 8, 1804, in which is noted the arrest and trial of two outlaws in Greenville, Mississippi, one of whom, although he gave another name, “was proved to be the villain who was known by the name of Little or Red-headed Harpe and who committed so many acts of cruelty in Kentucky.” Red hair was the particular mark of Little Harpe.

Curiosity as to the three women must be satisfied with even a less personal account and description. Hall in his Harpe’s Head, merely says of them: “Two of them were coarse, sunburnt, and wretchedly attired and the other somewhat more delicate and better dressed.” Major Stewart, who had them in personal charge for some time and saved them from being lynched, says that Susan, Big Harpe’s first wife, was “rather tall, rawboned, dark hair and eyes, and rather ugly,” and was about twenty-five years old. Betsey, the “supplementary” wife, he described as “rather handsome, light hair and blue eyes and a perfect contrast with her sister.” Sally, the wife of Little Harpe, he records was “really pretty and delicate,” about twenty years old, but he gives no word of description. It is to be assumed that when Major Stewart saw them they had been restored to cleanliness and decent attire. [12F]

One is tempted to pause and reflect upon these three women, all young and once innocent as other girls, who had so swiftly ridden the “hurricane of all horrors” with two such men, had borne them children as nomads do traveling the desert. One had had her child snatched from her arm by Big Harpe and seen its brains dashed out against a tree. Yet apparently not one of the three attempted to escape her fate, although frequently separated and having opportunity to do so. The normal man accustomed to normal women wonders what they looked like and in what respect the horrors of their experience had affected them. In the absence of all description that curiosity cannot be gratified.

The two wives of Big Harpe, if they were really sisters, and daughters of “old Mr. Roberts” mentioned but once in the pitiable record, had a brother of whom the Reverend Jacob Young, in his Autobiography of a Pioneer, has drawn a portrait scarcely less vivid than that which Hall drew of his ferocious brother-in-law, Big Harpe. It is a curious sensation to gaze even upon this brother of two such women. The wandering preacher tells how, in 1802, he entered a cabin in Russell County, Kentucky, where he had an appointment to conduct religious services. While singing to a small audience that came barefooted and bareheaded, a man of remarkable size, who was even more poorly clad than the others, walked into the room. Then follow the preacher’s words:

“Had I not been used to seeing rough men on the frontier of Kentucky I should have been frightened. I looked him fully in the eyes and scanned him closely. His hair appeared as though it had never been combed, and made me think of old Nebuchadnezzar and his head ‘like eagles’ feathers.’ He wore no hat; his collar was open and his breast bare; there was neither shoe nor moccasin on his feet. I finished my hymn, kneeled down and prayed and took my text to preach. The man looked for no seat, but stood erect gazing on the preacher. Before I was half through I saw the tears roll down his rough cheeks. I closed and told them that on that day four weeks I would be there again. I rode away, but could not forget the big man. I was sure he had distinguished himself some way, which made me anxious to find out his history. I soon found out that he was brother-in-law to the infamous robber Micajah Harpe, a character so well known in the history of Kentucky. No doubt they had been together in many a bloody affray. On my next round he joined the church, and soon afterward became a Christian. He could neither read nor write. I procured him a spelling book. His wife taught him to read, and he soon learned to write. On my fourth round I appointed him class leader. He trimmed off his hair, bought a new hat, clothed himself pretty well, and became a respectable man. I heard of him several years afterward, and he was still holding on his heavenly way.”19

But what was the ultimate fate of the Harpe women, whether hard, commonplace or tinged with compensatory romance? Draper in one of his note books gives these last glimpses of them:

“Betsey Roberts [the supplementary wife] was married to John Hufstetter. They lived on Colonel Anthony Butler’s plantation [near Russellville] as a tenant, and Mrs. Hufstetter became ‘chicken raiser’ to Mrs. Butler. Many years ago they moved to Red River, in Tennessee, and thence elsewhere, probably Duck River.... Her child grew up and was known as Joe Roberts, and the last known of him he was enlisted in the army.

“Susan Harpe, as she was called, also lived in a cabin on Colonel Butler’s plantation, six miles south of Russellville, and being industrious made a living chiefly by weaving. Her daughter, ‘Lovey,’ grew up to womanhood—very pretty, common size, round features, handsome form, black hair, rather dark skin and a dark and sometimes bad, devilish eye. Her temper was bad at school—always pouting and angry—no one associating with her. Yet it is thought had Lovey Harpe, with her beautiful form and naturally pretty appearance, been properly brought up, under the circumstances she would not only have been a belle, but really a fine woman. But, soured from neglect and obloquy, it is no wonder she threw herself away. And both herself and her mother were finally driven from the neighborhood for their bad character—went to Christian County on the waters of Pond River, where Colonel Butler had a mill—there old Susan died, and poor Lovey, destitute and forsaken, went down the Mississippi to Pearl, where, by this time, Colonel Butler had removed—and with his family went to Texas....20

“When Sally Harpe was tried, her father, Parson Rice, was present, a man of fine, irreproachable character, and took his prodigal daughter home near Knoxville. It was said, and doubtless truly, that Sally was thought a fine girl until she married Wiley Harpe. In 1820 Major Stewart was at Ford’s Ferry on the Ohio (a few miles above Cave-in-Rock) and saw Parson Rice, his family, Sally and her [second] husband moving to Illinois. He did not recognize them, but thought he knew them, particularly Sally, who eyed him closely and, after a little, went to one side, sat down and with her face in her hands, had a weeping spell, doubtlessly recounting her Harpe adventures, prompted by the presence of one of the few persons who had treated her with civility and kindness in her wayward career. After he left them, Major Stewart recollected hearing the old gentleman called Rice and the identity flashed upon his mind. Sally Harpe’s daughter had then grown to womanhood and was a fine looking young lady.” [12F] The girl referred to by Stewart as Sally Harpe’s daughter was, in all probability, not a daughter of Harpe.

And so vanished from the scene, swallowed up in the events of the rapidly developing country, all the principals in this terrible epic of pioneer days.

But Little Harpe’s career was not finished. He continued the life of an outlaw and after a few years, as we shall see, received his deserts at the hands of frontier justice.