Colonel Todd, of Lexington, instantly despatched news of this attack on
Bryant's station, to Colonel Boone, at Boonesborough, and Colonel Trigg,
near Harrodsburgh. In a little time, one hundred and seventy-six men were
collected under these three officers, to march in pursuit. Majors M'Gary
and Harland now joined them, determined that they would have a part in
the punishment of the savages. It was known, too, that Colonel Logan was
collecting a force, and a council of officers was at once held, to
determine whether they should march on, or wait for him. They were all so
eager to be off, that it was thought best to march immediately. The march
was therefore commenced forthwith.
Following on in the trail of the Indians, they had not gone far, when
Boone saw enough to convince him that the Indians would not only be
willing, but glad to meet them. No effort had been made to conceal their
trail; the trees were even marked on their pathway, that the whites
might follow on; and they had tried to conceal their numbers, by
treading in each other's footsteps. He called the attention of his
companions to this, but still they proceeded onward.
They saw no Indians until they came to the Licking river, not far from
the Blue Licks. A party was now seen on the other side of the stream,
leisurely crossing a hill. A council was at once held, and the officers
all turned to Boone for advice. His advice was given frankly: he was for
waiting till Logan should arrive with his men. The Indian party, he felt
assured, was at the least from four to five hundred strong, and the
unconcerned mode in which the Indians crossed the hill showed that the
main body was near, and their design was to draw them over the river.
Moreover, he was acquainted with all that region of the country. After
they crossed the ford, they would come upon deep ravines not far from the
bank, where, no doubt, the Indians were in ambush. If, however, they were
determined not to wait for Logan, he advised that the country might at
least be reconnoitred before the attack was made. A part of the men, he
thought, might cross the stream, and move up cautiously on the other
side, while the remainder would stand where they were, ready to assist
them at the first alarm. Todd and Trigg thought the advice good, and were
disposed to heed it; but, just at this moment, Major M'Gary, more
hot-headed than wise, spurred his horse into the water, gave the Kentucky
war-whoop, and cried out, "All those that are not cowards will follow me;
I will show them where the Indians are." The men were roused by this show
of bravery, and they all crossed the ford.
The banks were steep on the other side, and many of them now dismounted,
tied their horses, and commenced marching on foot. M'Gary and Harland led
the way. They had not proceeded far when they came to one of the ravines.
It was just as Boone had supposed; the savages were in ambush. A deadly
fire was now poured in upon the whites; the men staggered and fell in
every direction. The fire was returned, but to little purpose, for the
enemy was completely concealed; a retreat was all that was left. The
whites hurried back toward the river; the Indians pursued; and now
commenced the slaughter with the tomahawk. The ford was narrow, and
multitudes were slaughtered there. Some were trying to get to their
horses; others, more fortunate, were mounted and flying; and some were
plunging into the stream. In the midst of all this confusion, the
Indians were doing their work of destruction.
A man by the name of Netherland (who had been laughed at for his
cowardice) had never dismounted his horse, and was the first to reach the
opposite shore. In a little time, some of his comrades were around him.
He now turned, and, looking back, saw the massacre that was going on.
This was more than he could bear. "Halt! fire on the Indians," cried he;
"protect the men in the river." With this, the men wheeled, fired, and
rescued several poor fellows in the stream, over whom the tomahawk was
lifted.
Reynolds, the man who answered Girty's insolence, made a narrow escape.
Finding, in the retreat, one of the officers wounded, he gave him his
horse, and was soon after taken by three Indians. They were now over him,
ready to despatch him, when two retreating white men rushed by. Two of
the savages started in pursuit; the third stooped for an instant to tie
his moccasin, when Reynolds sprang away from him and escaped.
This was a terrible battle for the white men. More than sixty of their
number were slain, and among them were most of their officers: Colonels
Todd and Trigg, Majors Harland and Bulger, Captains Gordon and M'Bride,
and a son of Colonel Boone, were all among the dead.
Those who had regained the other shore, not having strength to rally,
started homeward in great sadness. On their way they met Colonel Logan.
He had gone to Bryant's station with his five hundred men, and was
greatly disappointed when he found they had all started without him; he
pushed on, however, as rapidly as he could, hoping to overtake them
before they made their attack on the savages. The sad story of the defeat
was soon told. All that remained to be done now was to go back, and, if
possible, bury the dead. Upon this sad business Logan continued his
march. Upon reaching the ground, the spectacle was awful: the dead bodies
were strewn over it just as they had fallen, the heat was intense, and
birds of prey were feeding upon the carcasses. The bodies were so mangled
and changed, that no man could be distinguished; friends could not
recognise their nearest relatives. The dead were buried as rapidly as
possible, and Logan left the scene in great sorrow.
Nor was this all the carnage. The Indians, after the defeat, had
scattered, and it was soon found that on their way homeward they had
swept through several settlements, carrying destruction before them.
Emboldened by their triumph, no man could tell what they might next
attempt.
It was no time for the whites to be idle. They soon rallied in large
numbers at Fort Washington, the present site of the city of Cincinnati.
General Clarke was at once made commander-in-chief, and Colonel Logan was
placed next under him in command. Clarke immediately started with a
thousand men to attack the Indian towns on the Miami. On his way he came
upon the cabin of Simon Girty; it was fortunate for Simon that a
straggling Indian spied Clarke's men coming, in time to let him escape.
The news was now spread everywhere that an army of white men was coming
from Kentucky. The consequence was, that as Clarke approached the towns,
he found them all deserted; the Indians had fled to the woods. His march,
however, was not made for nothing. The towns of Old and New Chilicothe,
Pecaway, and Wills' Town, were all reduced to ashes. One old Indian
warrior was surprised, and surrendered himself a prisoner. This man, to
the great sorrow of General Clarke, was afterward murdered by one of the
soldiers.
Notwithstanding this punishment, Indian massacres still went on. Stories
of savage butchery were heard of everywhere; every station that they
dared approach felt their fury, and the poor settler who had built his
cabin away from any station was sure to be visited.
General Clarke started out again, against the Indians on the Wabash.
Unfortunately, his expedition failed this time, for the want of
provisions for his men. Another expedition of Colonel Logan, against the
Shawanese Indians, was more successful. He surprised one of their towns,
killed many of their warriors, and took many prisoners.
The war had now become so serious, that in the fall of 1785 the General
Government invited all the lake and Ohio tribes of Indians to meet at the
mouth of the Great Miami. It was hoped that in this way matters might be
settled peaceably. But many of the tribes were insolent and ill-natured;
they refused to come in, giving as an excuse that the Kentuckians were
for ever molesting them. Emboldened by the very invitation, they
continued the warfare more vigorously than ever. They not only assaulted
the settlements already made, but made an attempt to guard the Ohio
river, to prevent any further settlers from reaching the country in that
direction. Small parties placed themselves at different points on the
river, from Pittsburgh to Louisville, where they laid in ambush and fired
upon every boat that passed. Sometimes they would make false signals,
decoy the boat ashore, and murder the whole crew. They even went so far
at last as to arm and man the boats they had taken, and cruise up and
down the river.
I must tell you of a very bold defence made on the Ohio about this time
by a Captain Hubbel, who was bringing a party of emigrants from Vermont
His party was in two boats, and consisted in all of twenty. As Hubbel
came down the river, he fell in with other boats, was told of the Indian
stratagems, and advised to be careful. Indeed, the inmates of some of the
boats begged that he would continue in their company, and thus they would
be able to meet the Indians better if they should be attacked; the
stronger the party, the better, in such a condition. But Hubbel refused
to do this, and proceeded onward. He had not gone far, when a man on the
shore began to make signs of distress, and begged that the boat might
come and take him off. Hubbel knew well enough that this was an Indian
disguised as a white man, and therefore took no notice of him. In a
little time, a party of savages pushed off in their boats, and attacked
him fiercely. The fight was hot on both sides. The savages tried to board
Hubbel's boat, but the fire was too hot for this. Hubbel received two
severe wounds, and had the lock of his gun shot off by an Indian; still
he fought, touching off his broken gun from time to time with a
firebrand. The Indians found the struggle too hard, and were glad to
paddle off. Presently they returned, and attacked the other boat; this
they seized almost without an effort, killed the captain and a boy, and
took all the women as prisoners to their own boats. Now they came once
more against Hubbel, and cunningly placed the women on the sides of
their boats as a sort of bulwark. But this did not stop Hubbel: he saw
that his balls must strike the women; but it was better that they should
be killed now, rather than suffer a death of torture from the savages,
and the fire was at once opened upon them again. They were soon driven
off once more. In the course of the action, however, Hubbel's boat
drifted near the shore, and five hundred savages renewed the fire upon
them. One of the emigrants, more imprudent than the rest, seeing a fine
chance for a shot, raised his head to take aim, and was instantly killed
by a ball. The boat drifted along, and at length reached deep water
again. It was then found, that of the nine men on board, two only had
escaped unhurt; two were killed, and two mortally wounded. A remarkable
lad on board showed great courage. He now asked his friends to extract a
ball that had lodged in the skin of his forehead; and when this was done,
he begged that they would take out a piece of bone that had been
fractured in his elbow by another ball. His poor frightened mother,
seeing his suffering, asked him why he had not complained before; to
which the little fellow replied that he had been too busy, and, besides
that, the captain had told them all to make no noise.
It was idle to attempt now to settle matters peaceably. The general
government had tried that and the plan had failed. The war was now to be
carried on to a close, come what might. An expedition was accordingly
planned, against all the tribes northwest of the Ohio. The Indians were
to be brought out, if possible to a general fight; or, if that could not
be done, all their towns and cabins on the Scioto and Wabash, were to be
destroyed. General Harmar was appointed commander of the main expedition,
and Major Hamtranck was to aid him with a smaller party.
In the fall of 1791, Harmar started from Fort Washington with three
hundred and twenty men. In a little time he was joined by the Kentucky
and Pennsylvania militia, so that his whole force now amounted to
fourteen hundred and fifty-three men. Colonel Hardin, who commanded the
Kentucky militia, was now sent ahead with six hundred men, principally
militia, to reconnoitre the country. Upon reaching the Indian
settlements, the savages set fire to their houses and fled; to overtake
them, he pushed on with two hundred of his men. A party of Indians met
and attacked them. The cowardly militia ran off, leaving their brave
companions to be slaughtered. It was a brave struggle, but almost all
were cut down; only seven managed to escape and join the main army.
Harmar felt deeply mortified. He commenced forthwith his return to Fort
Washington, but determined that, on the way, he would wipe off this
disgrace from his army. Upon coming near Chilicothe he accordingly
halted, and in the night despatched Colonel Hardin once more ahead, with
orders to find the enemy and draw them into an engagement. About
daybreak, Hardin came upon them, and the battle commenced. It was a
desperate fight on both sides. Some of the militia acted badly again, but
the officers behaved nobly. The victory was claimed on both sides, but I
think the Indians had the best of it. Three gallant officers, Fontaine,
Willys, and Frothingham, were slain, together with fifty regulars and one
hundred militia.
Harmar now moved on to Fort Washington. So much was said about his
miserable campaign, that he requested that he might be tried by a
court-martial. Accordingly he was tried and honorably acquitted.
A new army was soon raised, and the command was now given to
Major-General Arthur St. Clair. His plan was to destroy the Indian
settlements between the Miamies, drive the savages from that region, and
establish a chain of military posts there, which should for ever keep
them out of the country. All having rallied at Fort Washington, he
started off in the direction of the Miami towns. It was a hard march, for
he was forced to cut his roads as he passed along. Upon arriving near the
Indian country, he built forts Hamilton and Jefferson and garrisoned
them. This left him nearly two thousand men to proceed with. In a little
time some of the worthless militia deserted. This was a bad example to
the rest, and St. Clair instantly sent Major Hamtranck, with a regiment,
in pursuit of them, while he continued his march. When he arrived within
fifteen miles of the Miami villages he halted and encamped; he was soon
after joined by Major Hamtranck, and St. Clair proposed now immediately
to march against the enemy.
But the enemy had already got news of them, and had made ready. They were
determined to have the first blow themselves. At daybreak the next
morning, the savages attacked the militia and drove them back in
confusion. These broke through the regulars, forcing their way into the
camp, the Indians pressing hard on their heels. The officers tried to
restore order, but to no purpose: the fight now became general. This,
however, was only a small part of the Indian force--there were four
thousand of the party; they had nearly surrounded the camp, and sheltered
by the trees and grass as usual, were pouring in a deadly fire upon the
whites. St. Clair and all his officers behaved with great courage.
Finding his men falling fast around him, he ordered a charge to be made
with the bayonet. The men swept through the long grass driving the
Indians before them. The charge had no sooner ceased than the Indians
returned. Some forced their way into the camp, killed the artillerists,
wounded Colonel Butler, and seized the cannon. Wounded as he was, Butler
drove them back and recovered the guns. Fired with new ardor, they
returned again, once more entered the camp--once more had possession of
the cannon. All was now confusion among the whites--it was impossible to
restore order--the Indians brought them down in masses--a retreat was all
that remained. But they were so hemmed in, that this seemed impossible.
Colonel Darke was ordered to charge the savages behind them, while Major
Clarke with his battalion was commanded to cover the rear of the army.
These orders were instantly obeyed, and the disorderly retreat commenced.
The Indians pursued them four miles, keeping up a running fight. At last
their chief, a Mississago, who had been trained to war by the British,
cried out to them to stop as they had killed enough. They then returned
to plunder the camp and divide the spoils, while the routed troops
continued their flight to Fort Jefferson, throwing away their arms on the
roadside that they might run faster. The Indians found in the camp seven
pieces of cannon, two hundred oxen, and several horses, and had a great
rejoicing. Well might the Mississago chief tell his people they had
killed enough: thirty-eight commissioned officers were slain, and five
hundred and ninety-three non-commissioned officers and privates. Besides
this, twenty-one officers and two hundred and forty-two men were
wounded, some of whom soon died of their wounds.
This was a most disastrous battle for the whites, the most disastrous
they had yet known. The triumphant Indians were so delighted that they
could not leave the field, but kept up their revels from day to day.
Their revels, however, were at length broken up sorrowfully for them.
General Scott, hearing of the disaster, pushed on for the field with one
thousand mounted volunteers from Kentucky. The Indians were dancing and
singing, and riding the horses and oxen in high glee. Scott instantly
attacked them; two hundred were killed, their plunder retaken, and the
whole body of savages driven from the ground.
When Congress met soon after this, of course this wretched Indian war was
much talked of. It was proposed at once to raise three additional
regiments. Upon this a hot debate sprang up, the proposal was opposed
warmly; the opponents said that it would be necessary to lay a heavy tax
upon the people to raise them, that the war had been badly managed, and
should have been trusted to the militia in the west under their own
officers, and, moreover, that no success could be expected so long as the
British continued to hold posts in our own limits, and furnish the
Indians with arms, ammunition, and advice.
On the other hand, it was declared that the war was a just and necessary
one. It was shown that in seven years (between 1783 and 1790), fifteen
hundred people in Kentucky had been murdered or taken captives by the
savages; while in Pennsylvania and Virginia matters had been well nigh as
bad; that everything had been done to settle matters peaceably but all to
no purpose. In 1790, when a treaty was proposed to the Indians of the
Miami, they asked for thirty days to deliberate--the request was
granted--during those thirty days one hundred and twenty persons had been
killed or captured, and at the end of the time the savages refused to
give any answer to the proposal. At last the vote was taken--the
resolution passed--the war was to be carried on--the regiments were to be
raised.
General St. Clair now resigned the command of the army, and Major General
Anthony Wayne was appointed to succeed him. This appointment gave great
joy to the western people; the man was so well known among them for his
daring and bravery, that he commonly went by the name of "Mad Anthony."
After much delay, the regiments were at last gathered together. Some
still opposed this war and in order to prove to them that the government
was willing to settle matters peaceably, if possible, two
officers--Colonel Hardin and Major Truman, were now sent off to the
Indians with proposals of peace. They were both seized and murdered by
the savages.
Wayne now started out upon his expedition. In a little time he passed
Fort Jefferson, took possession of St. Clair's fatal field, and erected a
fort there which he called Fort Recovery. He now learned the truth of the
stories about the British. A number of British soldiers had come down
from Detroit, and fortified themselves on the Miami of the lakes. It was
rumored too, that in some of the Indian fights and massacres, the English
were seen among them, fighting and urging them on.
The General continued his march, and early in August reached the
confluence of the Miami of the Lakes and the Au Glaize. This was one of
the finest countries of the Indians, it was about thirty miles from the
British post, and he discovered here, that two thousand warriors were
near that post ready to meet him. Wayne was glad to hear this; his army
was quite as strong, and he longed to meet the savages. As he drew near,
however, he determined once more to have peace if possible, without
shedding blood. A message was sent to the Indians, urging them not to
follow the advice of bad men, to lay down their arms, to learn to live
peaceably, and their lives and their homes should be protected by the
government. An insolent answer, was all that was received in reply.
Wayne's army now marched on in columns--a select battalion, under Major
Price, moving in front to reconnoitre. After marching about five miles,
Price was driven back by the fire of the Indians. As usual, the cunning
enemy was concealed; they had hid themselves in a thick wood a little in
advance of the British post, and here Price had received their fire.
Wayne had now found out precisely where they were, and gave his orders
accordingly. The cavalry under Captain Campbell were commanded to enter
the wood in the rear of the Indians, between them and the river, and
charge their left flank. General Scott, with eleven hundred mounted
Kentucky volunteers, was to make a circuit in the opposite direction, and
attack the right. The infantry were to advance with trailed arms, and
rouse the enemy from their hiding-places. All being ready, the infantry
commenced their march. The Indians were at once routed at the point of
the bayonet. The infantry had done the whole; Campbell and Scott had
hardly the chance of doing any of the fighting. In the course of an hour,
they had driven the savages back two miles; in fact, within gun-shot of
the British post.
Wayne had now the possession of the whole ground, and here he remained
three days, burning their houses and cornfields above and below the fort.
One Englishman suffered, too, in this work of destruction. Colonel M'Kee
was known as a British trader, forever instigating the Indians against
the Americans, and Wayne did not scruple to burn all his houses and
stores likewise. Major Campbell, who commanded the British fort,
remonstrated at this, but Wayne gave him a bold and determined answer in
reply, and he had no more to say. A few words from him would only have
caused Wayne to drive him from the country.
The army now returned to Au Glaize, destroying all the houses, villages,
and crops by the way. It was one complete work of destruction; within
fifty miles of the river everything was destroyed. In this campaign,
Wayne had lost one hundred and seven men, and among them were two brave
officers--Captain Campbell and Lieutenant Towles, but still he had gained
a glorious victory. In his track, too, he had not forgotten to build
forts, to guard against the savages in future.
The story of the victory soon spread, and struck terror to the hearts of
the Indians north and south. They were restless and dissatisfied, but war
was sure destruction to them; they felt that it was idle to attempt it
further, and were ready to be quiet. In less than a year from this time,
Wayne concluded a treaty, in behalf of the United States with all the
Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio. The settlers at last had peace--a
blessing which they had long desired.