THE DOG CHARGE AT FORT SINQUEFIELD AND AFFAIRS ON THE PENINSULA.
It was a part of Weatherford's tactics to prevent the concentration of
his enemies as far as that was possible, and to keep the whole country
round about in such a state of apprehension that no troops or militiamen
could be spared from one stockade fort for the assistance of another.
Accordingly, when he advanced to the assault on Fort Mims he sent the
prophet Francis with a force of Creeks into the country which lies in
the fork of the Alabama and Tombigbee rivers, and which in our day
constitutes Clarke County. In this part of the country there were
several stockade forts erected, one in each neighborhood, by the
settlers, as a precautionary measure, when the disturbed state of the
country first aroused serious apprehensions. Fort Sinquefield, named, as
all these fortresses were, after the owner of the place on which it was
built, stood a few miles north-east of the village of Grove Hill, which
is now the county seat of Clarke County. Fort White was further to the
west, and Fort Glass was about fifteen miles to the south, near the spot
on which the present village of Suggsville stands.
When the battle of Burnt Corn brought actual war into being, most of the
settlers removed with their families into these forts and prepared to
defend themselves. When General Claiborne arrived with his seven hundred
men he sent some small reinforcements to these posts, under command of
Colonel Carson, who rebuilding Fort Glass, christened it Fort Madison,
and made it his head-quarters and the head-quarters of the district
round about.
It was the mission of the prophet Francis to harass this part of the
country, and on the next day but one after the massacre at Fort Mims,
Francis struck his first blow within two miles of Fort Sinquefield.
Notwithstanding the general alarm, Abner James and Ransom Kimball, with
their families, numbering seventeen souls in all, remained at Kimball's
house, intending within a day or two to remove to the fort. Francis
attacked the house and killed twelve of the seventeen persons. The other
five escaped in various ways. One of those who escaped was Isham
Kimball, a youth sixteen years of age, who survived the war, became a
public officer in his county, and was living there as late as the year
1857; from his account and that of Mrs. Merrill, a married daughter of
Abner James, who also was living in Clarke County in 1857, the original
recorders of this bit of history derived their information with respect
to details.
Mrs. Merrill's adventures were very strange and romantic, and as we
shall not again have occasion to write of her, it may not be amiss to
interrupt the regular course of this narrative and tell what happened to
her. At the time of the massacre at Kimball's house, she, with her
infant child in her arms, was knocked down, scalped, and left as one
dead among the slain. She lay senseless for many hours, but during the
night she revived, and with a mother's instinct began to search among
the dead bodies of her kinsmen for her babe. She was overjoyed to find
that it still breathed, although some member of the savage band had made
an effort to scalp it, cutting its head all round, but failing--probably
because the hair was so short--to finish the horrible operation. The
poor mother, well-nigh dead though she was, made haste to give her babe
the breast, and had the gratification of seeing it revive rapidly in
consequence. Then, taking it in her arms, she made an effort to reach
Fort Sinquefield, about two miles distant. Finding at last that her
strength was failing rapidly, and that she could carry the child no
longer, she secreted it and used the little remaining strength she had
in crawling to the stockade and entreating some one there to rescue her
child. This of course was quickly done, and notwithstanding the severity
of her injuries both she and the child recovered under good treatment.
But the strangest, or at any rate the most romantic, part of the story
is yet to be told. At the time of these occurrences Mrs. Merrill's
husband was absent, serving as a volunteer under General Claiborne. The
news of the butchery, including the positive information that Mrs.
Merrill and her child were slain, was carried to the post where Merrill
was serving, and he heard nothing of her wonderful escape. During one of
the battles which followed each other rapidly that autumn, Merrill,
before his anxious wife found any means of communicating with him, was
terribly wounded and left for dead on the battle-field, and the report
of his death was borne to his wife. Recovering his consciousness after
his comrades had left the field, Merrill fell in with some Tennessee
volunteers, and was sent with their wounded to Tennessee, where, after
long nursing, he was finally restored to health. After several years had
passed Mrs. Merrill married again, without even a suspicion that her
first husband was living--believing indeed that she knew him to be
dead. She was living happily with her second husband and with a large
family growing up about her, when one evening a family who were
emigrating from Tennessee to Texas stopped at her house and asked for
entertainment for a night. They were hospitably received after the
generous custom of the time and country, but they had scarcely settled
themselves as guests before the head of the emigrating family and the
wife of the host recognized each other. The one was Merrill and the
other was his wife, and both had married again, each believing the other
to be dead. After some consultation it was decided that, as each had
acted in perfectly good faith, and as both the families were happy as
they were, it would be the part of wisdom to let matters stand, and to
live their new lives without trying to recover the old.
Let us now return to the regular order of events. When the tidings of
the massacre at Kimball's house reached Fort Madison, Colonel Carson
sent a detachment of ten men to the spot, and they at once carried the
bodies of the dead persons to Fort Sinquefield for burial. On the third
of September the whole body of people in Fort Sinquefield, with that
inexplicable carelessness which so often marked the conduct of the
whites at this time, left the fort, unarmed, and went out to a valley
some fifty yards away, to attend the burial services over the bodies of
their friends. The wily prophet was awaiting precisely such an
opportunity as this, and while the men were filling the grave, he
charged over a neighboring hill, and tried to put his force between the
unarmed garrison and the gate of the fort. Luckily he had somewhat
further to run than the fort people had, and so the men of the place
managed to gain the gate; but, alas! the women and children were nearly
all outside, and Francis's warriors were between them and the entrance
to the fort. Their plight appeared to be a hopeless one, and it would
have been so but for the courage and the presence of mind of one young
man, whose name is given by Mr. Pickett as Isaac Heaton, but who is
called Isaac Haden by Mr. A. B. Meek, a very careful writer, and one
particularly well informed about this part of the field. The latter name
is adopted here, as probably the correct one. This young man Haden was
fond of field sports, and kept a large pack of hounds, trained to chase
and seize any living thing upon which their master might set them. At
the critical moment, young Haden, mounted upon a good horse and
accompanied by his sixty dogs, arrived at the gate from a cattle driving
expedition. In an instant he saw the situation of affairs, and with a
promptitude which showed remarkable presence of mind, he resolved upon a
daring attempt to rescue the women and children. With the whoop of the
huntsman this gallant fellow set spurs to his horse, and charged the
Indians with his trained pack of ferocious hounds. The suddenness of the
onset and the novelty of the attack threw the savages into complete
confusion. The fierce dogs seized the naked savages and tore them
furiously, and for several minutes their attention was entirely absorbed
in an effort to beat the brutes off. Meanwhile the men of the fort
reinforced the dogs with all their might, and thus a road was kept open
for the retreat of the women and children, every one of whom, except a
Mrs. Phillips, who was killed and scalped, escaped within the gates.
Young Haden narrowly escaped death as the price of his heroism--for it
was heroism of the highest sort. His horse was killed under him, and
when he was at last safe within the fort, it was found that five bullets
had passed through his clothes, but the brave fellow was not hurt.
[Illustration: THE DOG CHARGE AT FORT SINQUIFIELD.]
Francis speedily recovered from his temporary perplexity, and rallying
his men he made a furious assault upon the fort; but the gates were now
shut, and the resolute men behind the pickets were skilled marksmen, who
delivered their fire with deadly precision. The savages were repulsed
and the fort's company for the time saved, with the loss of but one man
and one boy, who, with Mrs. Phillips killed outside the gates, made the
total number of the slain in this assault only three persons.
The wiser members of the fort's company perceived, however, that the
place was not strong enough to be successfully defended against a really
determined attack by an adequate force; and accordingly, after some
discussion it was resolved to evacuate the place and retire to Fort
Madison, before the second and more determined attack, which Francis was
sure to make, should render it too late. That night the whole company of
Sinquefield silently withdrew, and after a perilous march of fifteen
miles through a country infested with savages, reached their destination
in safety.
About this time four men went from Fort Madison to some fields in the
neighborhood for supplies of green vegetables, and while gathering these
they were attacked and two of them were shot. Colonel Carson having
satisfied himself that the peninsula which he was set to guard was full
of Indians, and believing that Red Eagle with the victors of Fort Mims
would direct his next blow at Fort Madison, resolved to call upon
General Claiborne, who was now at Fort Stoddard, for assistance. A
particularly bold young man, of whom we shall hear more after a while,
by name Jeremiah Austill--or Jerry Austill, as he was always
called--volunteered to undertake the dangerous duty of carrying Colonel
Carson's despatch. Mounting his horse about nightfall, he said good-by
to friends who had little hope of seeing him again, and rode away. After
an all night's journey the brave young fellow arrived at General
Claiborne's head-quarters, and told the general whence he had come,
greatly to the surprise and admiration of that officer, who highly
commended his courage and devotion to the common cause.
General Claiborne was in great perplexity, however. The Fort Mims
massacre and the rapidly following depredations in other directions had
produced a genuine panic among the settlers who now poured into the
forts, crowding them to overflowing; and in the state of alarm which
prevailed everywhere, the commanders of all the forts were convinced
that their fighting forces were insufficient to defend the posts
intrusted to their charge. When young Austill arrived, therefore, with
Colonel Carson's application for reinforcements, it was only one of a
dozen or a score of similar demands, and with the meagre force at his
disposal General Claiborne was wholly unable to satisfy the requirements
of his subordinates. In his perplexity he saw but one method of solving
the problem, and that was to order the evacuation of some of the forts
and the concentration of the fighting men at fewer points. To this
course there was the serious objection, that the stockade posts were
already inconveniently and unwholesomely overcrowded, and a good deal of
sickness existed as a consequence; but there was no other way of meeting
the exigencies of the situation. General Claiborne therefore sent young
Austill back to Fort Madison with a message which has been variously
represented in different accounts of the affair. It appears, however,
from General Claiborne's manuscripts, that the message, as it was given
to Austill, was to the effect that as there were no troops to spare for
the reinforcement of Fort Madison, and as St. Stephen's was
strategically a more important post, Colonel Carson should evacuate
Fort Madison and retire with his garrison and the inmates of his fort to
St. Stephen's, if in his judgment that course was wisest in the
circumstances. In other words, General Claiborne wished Colonel Carson
to use his discretion, after learning that no troops could be sent to
his assistance; but either because the message was ambiguous in itself,
or because young Austill delivered it inaccurately, Colonel Carson
understood that he was peremptorily ordered to evacuate his fort, and
the order as thus understood gave great dissatisfaction to everybody
concerned. The people loudly complained that General Claiborne was
abandoning their part of the country to its fate. Colonel Carson, of
course, had no choice but to obey the order as he understood it, but
those of the settlers who were not regularly enlisted soldiers were free
to do as they pleased, and under the lead of Captain Evan Austill, the
father of Jeremiah Austill, and himself a very resolute man, fifty men
of the neighborhood according to one account, eighty according to
another, with their families, determined to remain at Fort Madison. All
the rest of the people in the fort, about four hundred in number,
marched to St. Stephen's. The little band who remained were very
vigilant, and managed to protect themselves effectually, until after a
time Colonel Carson was instructed to return and regarrison the fort.
Colonel Carson had scarcely reached St. Stephen's, indeed, before a
second despatch came from General Claiborne, speaking of the former
message as discretionary, and urging Carson not to abandon the fort
"unless it is clear that you cannot hold it." Among the gallant little
company who remained at Fort Madison was Sam Dale, who, it will be
remembered, led the advance at Burnt Corn, and whom we shall see again.