from Fort Defiance, and encamped on a very high and suitable piece of
ground. The second day after we left No. Third, the snow melted and
the ground thawed, which operated much against our march. We marched
two miles, which tried the strength and activity of our noble steeds.
The General, who remained behind at No. Third, more properly styled
_Fort Starvation_, thinking probably to take the advantage of the
weather (this moderate thaw had opened the river in a ripple opposite
to No. Third), had several pirogues loaded with his baggage, and manned
immediately. After travelling three or four hundred yards they found
that they were blockaded with ice; they landed and guarded the plunder,
until arrangements could be made for its transportation by land. The
weather took a change the second of January. It commenced snowing, and
continued two days and nights: after it ceased, it was from twenty to
twenty-four inches deep. During this time we remained stationary. On
the third the army resumed its march, wading through a deep snow. We
had to stop early in the afternoon to prepare our encampment; to rake
the snow away, make fires, and pitch our tents, was no trifling task;
and after this we had to get bark or bushes to lie on; the linn, in
this case, was of great service to us. Many of the horses gave out,
and sleds broke down; consequently, the plunder had to be pulled or
carried by the men. I have seen six Kentuckians substituted instead
of a horse, pulling their plunder, drudging along through the snow,
and keeping pace with the foremost. In marching to this place we came
through some good land, particularly the river bottoms, which are very
rich. Wolftown, which is about half way between Fort Defiance and the
Rapids, is a handsome situation. This has formerly been an Indian town.
We reached Roche De Baut the 9th, four miles above Hull’s road, a place
where some French had formerly lived. Early next morning (as cold a
morning as the Kentuckians ever experienced) a detached party of six
hundred and seventy-six men marched in front of the baggage, and went
on four miles below the foot of the Rapids, in order to examine if it
were true, as said by some passengers from the right wing of the army,
that there were six hundred Indians encamped and picketed in, six miles
below the Rapids. The detachment marched within two miles of the place,
and sent spies, but they discovered no signs of Indians. The party
remained all night, and partook of an elegant supper of parched corn,
and returned to camp in the morning.
_11th._ Some fresh signs of Indians were seen near this encampment. A
detachment of twenty-four men was sent immediately, under the command
of Capt. Williams. They had not got far before they discovered the
Indians; the firing commenced on both sides nearly at the same time.
The Indians stood but a little time before they ran, but not until
they lost some of their savage blood. Capt. Williams pursued them some
miles, but could not overtake them. By the signs of blood, some of
them must have been badly wounded. They left behind them two of their
horses, a brass kettle, and some other plunder. One of Capt. Williams’s
men received a wound in the arm, and another got shot through his hat.
Capt. Edmiston, who was one of the party, got his gun shot through the
breech.
_13th._ Two Frenchmen came in camp last night from the river Raisin,
who received information of the army being here by those Indians that
Capt. Williams pursued, who got there the night after the skirmish,
and stopped only a few minutes, and then went on to Malden. Those
Frenchmen solicited protection and assistance, stating the abuse they
had received from the Indians, and the danger they were in of losing
their lives and property.
_25th._ Arrived in camp this morning, clothing from Kentucky. The
ladies who sent this clothing deserve the highest encomiums. If it
had not been for their unexampled exertions, we must have suffered
beyond conception. May they long live under the auspicious protection
of a free government, and may kind heaven reward their unparalleled
benevolence!
Another Frenchman came to camp, confirming what was stated by the
others. We now began to recruit after our laborious march, and after
being deprived of a sufficiency of provisions. Although we have
been without flour ever since we came here, yet we have been better
supplied with provisions than we have been since we embarked in the
service. We have here in possession many large fields of corn, probably
three hundred acres. We have erected a great many pounding machines,
to prepare it for our use. This place has a solemn appearance. The
inhabitants have fled, and the Indians or British have burned their
houses, leaving some of the chimneys standing. By every appearance,
this has been a respectable settlement. Four miles below our
encampment, are the remains of the old British garrison.
_17th._ A Frenchman came yesterday from the river Raisin; he said two
companies of British had just arrived from Canada, and the Indians
were collecting, and intended to burn Frenchtown in a few days. By
the repeated solicitations of the French, and being counselled by
some of the field-officers, the General has been induced to order out
a detachment of five hundred and seventy men, destined to the river
Raisin; it was said, contrary to the instructions of Gen. Harrison. The
detachment started[F] early with three days’ provisions, and proceeded
on twenty miles near to Presqu’ Isle, a French village on the south
side of the Maumee River. The sight of this village filled each heart
with emotions of cheerfulness and joy; for we had been nearly five
months in the wilderness, exposed to every inconvenience, and excluded
from everything that had the appearance of a civilized country. When
the inhabitants of the village discovered us, they met us with a white
flag, and expressed particular friendship for us. They informed us the
British and Indians had left Frenchtown a few days ago, and had gone
to Brownstown. About three hours after dark, a reinforcement of one
hundred and ten men overtook us, commanded by Col. Allen. Some time
in the latter part of the night an express came from the river Raisin,
informing Col. Lewis there were four hundred Indians and two companies
of British there, and that Colonel Elliott was to start the next
morning from Malden with a reinforcement.
_18th._ We started early, in order to get there before Col. Elliott;
after travelling fifteen miles, mostly on the ice, we received
information of the enemy being there waiting for us; we were then
within three miles of Frenchtown; we proceeded on with no other view
than _to conquer or die_. When we advanced in sight of the town, and
were about a quarter of a mile from it, the British saluted us by the
firing of a piece of cannon; they fired it three times, but no injury
was sustained. During this time we formed the line of battle, and,
raising a shout,[G] advanced on them briskly; they soon commenced the
firing of their small arms, but this did not deter us from a charge;
we advanced close and let loose on them; they gave way, and we soon
had possession of the village without the loss of a man! Three were
slightly wounded. Twelve of their warriors were slain and scalped, and
one prisoner taken before they got to the woods. In retreating, they
kept up some firing. We pursued them half a mile to the woods, which
were very brushy and suited to their mode of fighting. As we advanced,
they were fixing themselves behind logs, trees, &c. to the best
advantage; our troops rushed on them resolutely, and gave them Indian
play, took the advantage of trees, &c. and kept them retreating a mile
and a half in the woods. During this time a heavy fire was kept up on
both sides; at length, after a battle of three hours and five minutes,
we were obliged to stop the pursuit on account of the approach of
night, and retire to the village; we collected our wounded and carried
them to the village, leaving our dead on the ground. In this action the
Kentuckians displayed great bravery, after being much fatigued with
marching on the ice; cowardice was entirely discountenanced; each was
anxious to excel his fellow-soldiers in avenging his injured country;
those only fell in the rear who were most fatigued. Our loss in this
action was eleven killed and fifty wounded.[H] Although the enemy had
the advantage of the village in the first attack, and of the woods in
the second, their loss, by the best information, far exceeded ours. A
Frenchman stated they had fifty-four killed and a hundred and forty
wounded, part of whom were carried to his house, on Sand Creek, a few
miles from the village. An express and the Indian prisoner were sent
immediately to the Rapids. Some dispute arose between the Indians and
some of the French on Sand Creek; the Indians killed an old man and
his wife; in consequence of this the French were enraged, and resolved
to get revenge. They applied to us for assistance, but it was thought
improper to leave the village, though some of them had assisted us and
fought in the front of the battle.
_19th._ A party was sent out to the battle-ground to bring in the dead,
which were found scalped and stripped except one. In going over the
battle-ground, great signs were seen (by the blood and where they had
been dragged through the snow) of a considerable loss on the part of
the enemy. Two of the wounded died. The British left a considerable
quantity of provisions and some store goods, which answered us a
valuable purpose. The wounded could have been as well accommodated here
with every necessary as in any part of Kentucky. Apples, cider, sugar,
butter, and whiskey appeared to be plenty. The river Raisin runs an
east course through a level country, interspersed with well-improved
farms, and is seventy or eighty yards wide; the banks are low.
Frenchtown is situated on the north side of this river, not more than
three miles from the place it empties into Lake Erie. There is a row
of dwelling-houses, about twenty in number, principally frame, near
the bank, surrounded with a fence made in the form of picketing, with
split timber, from four to five feet high; this was not designed as a
fortification, but to secure their yards and gardens.
_21st._ A reinforcement of two hundred and thirty men arrived in the
afternoon; also Gen. Winchester, Col. Wells, Major M‘Clanahan, Capt.
Hart, surgeons Irvin and Montgomery, and some other gentlemen, who
came to eat apples and drink cider, having been deprived of every kind
of spirits nearly two months. The officers having viewed and laid off
a piece of ground for a camp and breastworks, resolved that it was
too late to remove and erect fortifications that evening; farther,
as they resolved to remove early next day, it was not thought worth
while, though materials were at hand, to fortify the right wing,
which therefore encamped in the open field,[I] and Col. Wells, their
commander, set out for the Rapids late in the evening. A Frenchman
arrived here late in the evening from Malden, and stated that a large
number of Indians and British were coming on the ice with artillery to
attack us; he judged their number to be three thousand; this was not
believed by some of our leading men, who were regaling themselves with
whiskey and loaf sugar; but the generality of the troops put great
confidence in the Frenchman’s report, and expected some fatal disaster
to befall us; principally because Gen. Winchester had taken up his
head-quarters nearly half a mile from any part of the encampment, and
because the right wing was exposed. Ensign Harrow was sent with a party
of men, some time after night, by the orders of Col. Lewis, to bring
in all the men, either officers or privates, that he might find out of
their quarters. After finding some and giving them their orders, he
went to a brick house, about a mile up the river, and entered a room;
finding it not occupied, he immediately went above stairs and saw two
men, whom he took to be British officers, talking with the landlord.
The landlord asked him to walk down into a stove room, and handing his
bottle, asked him to drink, and informed him “there was no danger, for
the British had not a force sufficient to whip us.” So Harrow returned
about 1 o’clock and reported to Col. Lewis what he had seen. Col.
Lewis treated the report with coolness, thinking the persons seen were
only some gentlemen from town; just at daybreak the reveille began to
beat, as usual; this gave joy to the troops, who had passed the night
under the apprehensions of being attacked before day. The reveille
had not been beating more than two minutes before the sentinels fired
three guns in quick succession; this alarmed our troops, who quickly
formed and were ready for the enemy before they were near enough to
do execution. The British immediately discharged their artillery,
loaded with balls, bombs, and grape-shot, which did little injury;
they then attempted to make a charge on those in the pickets, but were
repulsed with great loss. Those on the right being less secure for the
want of fortification, were overpowered by a superior force, and were
ordered to retreat to a more advantageous piece of ground. They got in
disorder and could not be formed.[J] The Indians pursued them from
all quarters, and surrounded, killed, and took the most of them. The
enemy again charged on the left with redoubled vigor, but were again
forced to retire. Our men lay close behind the picketing, through which
they had portholes, and every one having a rest took sight, that his
ammunition might not be spent in vain. After a long and bloody contest,
the enemy finding they could not, either by stratagem or force, drive
us from our fortification, retired to the woods, leaving their dead
on the ground, except a party that kept two pieces of cannon in play
on our right. A sleigh was seen three or four hundred yards from our
lines going towards the right, supposed to be laden with ammunition
to supply the cannon. Four or five men rose up and fired at once, and
killed the man and wounded the horse. Some Indians who were hid behind
houses continued to annoy us with scattering balls. At this time bread
from the commissary’s house was handed round among our troops, who
sat composedly eating and watching the enemy at the same time. Being
thus refreshed, we discovered a white flag advancing toward us; it was
generally supposed to be for a cessation of arms that our enemies
might carry off their dead, which were numerous, although they had been
bearing away both dead and wounded during the action; but how were we
surprised and mortified when we heard that Gen. Winchester, with Col.
Lewis, had been taken prisoners by the Indians in attempting to rally
the right wing, and that Gen. Winchester had surrendered us prisoners
of war to Col. Proctor! Major Madison, then the highest in command, did
not agree to this until Col. Proctor had promised[K] that the prisoners
should be protected from the Indians, the wounded taken care of, the
dead collected and buried, and private property respected. It was then
with extreme reluctance our troops accepted this proposition; there was
scarcely a person that could refrain from shedding tears! Some plead
with the officers not to surrender, saying they would rather die on
the field! We had only five killed, and twenty-five or thirty wounded,
inside of the pickets. The British asked, when they came in, what we
had done with our dead, as they saw but few on the ground. A barn being
set on fire to drive the Indians from behind it, they concluded that,
to conceal our dead, we had thrown them into these flames.
One of the houses that the wounded were in, was much shattered by the
cannon balls, though only a few struck as low as a man’s head. The
bombs flew over. Some bursted fifty feet above the ice, some fell
on the ice, and some fell over the river. Notwithstanding all their
exertions, their six cannon (which were all said to be six-pounders)
did but little damage.
In this battle, officers and privates exhibited the utmost firmness and
bravery. Whilst the men were at their posts firing on the enemy, the
officers were passing along the lines supplying them with cartridges.
Major Graves, in passing around the line, was wounded in the knee.
He sat down in a tent, bound up his wound, and cried: “BOYS, I AM
WOUNDED; NEVER MIND ME, BUT FIGHT ON!”
The British collected their troops, and marched in front of the
village. We marched out and grounded our arms, in heat and bitterness
of spirit. The British and Indians took possession of them. But all the
swords, dirks, tomahawks, and knives were given up with promise that
they should be restored again. [This promise was broken.]
All the prisoners, except those that were badly wounded, Dr. Todd,
Dr. Bowers, and a few attendants, were marched towards Malden. The
British said, as they had a great many of their wounded to take to
Malden that evening, it would be out of their power to take ours before
morning, but they would leave a sufficient guard, so that they should
not be interrupted by the Indians. You will presently see with what
aggravating circumstances the breach of this promise was attended.
Brother Allen Darnall having been badly wounded in the right shoulder
on the 18th, and I being appointed to attend on the wounded, I
continued with them.
Before the British and prisoners marched, the Indians ransacked the
camp, and got all the plunder that was remaining--namely, tents,
kettles, buckets, pans, &c.; then coming amongst the wounded, greatly
insulted them, and took some of their plunder. After they went out
I bolted the door. They came again and broke it open with their
tomahawks. I immediately applied to a British officer, and told him
the Indians were interrupting the wounded. He turned round, and called
to another officer to send the guard. The Indians at that time had
plundered the commissary’s house (which was near the house in which the
wounded were) of everything they wanted, and piled rails against it
and set them on fire: I, with the assistance of two British officers,
put it out. One of the British officers (Maj. Rundels) inquired where
the ammunition was. I told him, if there was any, it was above stairs.
We went up, but could find none. There was a large quantity of wheat
on the loft; he said it was a pity it was there, for the Indians would
burn the house. I apprehended by that, the town was to be burned, and
began to lament our wretched condition. After we went down stairs,
Rundels asked me how many we had killed and wounded on the 18th. I told
him, but he very haughtily disputed it. I had the return in my pocket.
He read it, but made no reply.
Those that remained of us being hungry, I applied to one of the British
in the evening for some flour, as there were a good many barrels in
the commissary’s house, which I considered to belong to them. He told
me to take as much as I wanted. I asked him if there was a guard left?
He said there was no necessity for any, for the Indians were going to
their camp, and there were interpreters left who would walk from house
to house and see that we should not be interrupted. He kept walking
about and looking towards the road. He told me I had better keep in the
house, for the Indians would as soon shoot me as not, although he had
just told me we should not be interrupted! I suspected he was looking
for Gen. Harrison. Oh! if we had seen General Harrison coming with his
troops, the wounded would have leaped for joy! but I did not expect him.
As they did not leave the _promised guard_, I lost all confidence in
them, and expected we would be all massacred before morning. I being
the only person in this house not wounded, with the assistance of some
of the wounded, I prepared something for about thirty to eat. The
Indians kept searching about town till after dark. One came in the
house who could talk English, and said he commanded a company after
the retreating party, and that most of that party were slain. He said
the men gave up their guns, plead for quarters, and offered them money
if they would not kill them; but his boys, as he called them, would
tomahawk them without distinction. He said the plan that was fixed on
by the Indians and British, before the battle commenced, was that the
British were to attack in front to induce us to charge on them; 500
Indians were placed on the right hand and 500 on the left, to flank
round and take possession of the town; but he said we were too cunning
for them; we would not move out of the pickets.