Transcript:Narrative of Mary Ann Fields, 1918

June 2, 1918 being my fiftieth marriage Anniversary, also I am seventy-two years and six months old. I, Mary Ann Fields, will endeavor to write from memory a brief history of the Maxwell and Witten families. What I learned on my grandfather's knee, when I was a curious and inquisitive child.

James Maxwell came to America from Ireland in the Eighteenth Century in the days of George Washington. ^[1]He was a Scotch and Irish descent. Was in several Indian skirmishes during the Revolu- tion. He fought at the Battle of Kings Mountains. ^[2] Was never wounded. He was a very large man, over six feet tall, and weighed 225 pounds, broad shouldered, well built, had powerful voice, had coarse straight hair which stood straight on his head, fair com- plexion, blue eyes, he was considered a very powerful man. He married a Miss Roberts, some time before the Declaration of Inde- pendence, July 4, 1776. Raised a family during the hostilities with the Indians, the mothers with their children lived in forts together for protection. My own grandfather and mother lived in the same fort in Virginia. They used to tell me of their many hardships, trials and fear of the Indians when living in forts.

In the course of human events and the Indians became less hostile and more friendly to the white man. My great-grandfather [ Person:James Maxwell (55) ] emigrated to the western part of Virginia. Settled in Tazewell County, Virginia on Cavitts creek near Clinch river, four miles from the Courthouse. He owned a nice farm, owned cattle, horses, sheep and hogs, was considered a "well-to-do" farmer at that time. His horses, cattle and sheep ran at large for want of fences and enclosed pastures. He kept four large Dane dogs for protection when he went in search of his cattle and horses. He had a large dog before and behind him, his gun on his shoulder, a knife at his side. He never looked to the right or left, went straight forward with a firm step and a fixed determination to conquer or die. The Indians never molested him, they were deadly afraid of him, called him: "The Great White Chief". He left two dogs with the family. He had a neighbor, a small sickly man, named "Scaggs", whom the Indians called "Nobody".

My great-grandfather and his sons worked hard, cleared the timber from their land built a crude log house and out buildings, had a garden, also set out a young orchard, had also fields to raise corn, rye, and such grain as they could get seed for. Autumn rolled around and he had to take his horses and sons and go to King's salt works, now called Palmer works, to get salt, to save his meat, also for his stock. The mother was left with the younger sons and oldest daughter. The mother was confined to her bed with an infant. Some stray skulking Indians were passing through came to the little home in the forest, scalped and tomahawked the two little sisters, Jennie and Mattie Maxwell. They each had a pet lamb, they asked their sister, Mary if they could go in the orchard to find their pets, she gave them her consent. They tarried too long, she went in search of them found the dead lambs and the two children slain, one was dead the other died that night. Oh, the horrors of that awful night, no friends near them to lend a helping hand. Oh, the sad home coming of that father. Night settled down upon them, in the bleak forest. Night where the screams of the owl shrills ghastly through the stillness. Could you imagine anything more horrible?

His farm at one time had been an Indian village, there were large mounds still in the orchard of pinwincles shells, they had got them from the creek and Clinch river, they had used them for soups. I had the pleasure as a child of visiting the old homestead of my forefathers, where he lived and raised his family. I do not know when he sold his farm.

There was born to this union:
Robert Maxwell,
Mary Maxwell,
John Maxwell,
Margaret Maxwell,
James Maxwell,
Jennie and Mattie killed by the Indians, ^[3]and
Elizabeth Maxwell.

I never knew who my grandfathers brothers married. His sister Margaret married David Whitley, had a home on Clinch river a few miles from the county seat in Tazewell county. He was a fine mechanic, very thrifty and industrious. He built a fine grist mill run by water power, also a saw mill, cut all his lumber. He and my grandfather Des- kins built the two first stone dwellings in Tazewell, both on Clinch river, six miles apart, of limestone in the rough dressed by hand, built very sustantial and strong, well finished in those pioneer days. At that time were considered mansions, they are now in good condition, still inhabited. They are living monuments of honest labor of over a century ago. Many of their posterities are living and bear the name of Whitley in Tazewell County, Virginia.