OHIO STATEWIDE FILES - HISTORY: Chapter 18 (Abbott, John S. C., 1875) *************************************************************************** OHGENWEB NOTICE: All distribution rights to this electronic data are reserved by the submitter. Reproduction or re-presentation of copyrighted material will require the permission of the copyright owner. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. *************************************************************************** File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by Kay L. Mason keziah63@yahoo.com November 1, 1999 *************************************************************************** Chapter XVII Governor Arthur St. Clair's Defeat By an Act of Congress of 1781, Arthur St. Clair, Governor of the North- western Territory, was also appointed Major General and Commander-in-Chief of the military forces. An army of two thousand men, including artillery and cavalry, assembled at Fort Washington. After many vexatious delays and dis- appointments the march was commenced, up what was called the Maumee Valley. The obstructions to the advance of such an army were so great that its pro- gress was very slow. Crossing over the eastern branch of the Great Miami, they erected a strong block-house about twenty miles north from Cincinnati. Leaving a small garrison at this post, which they named Fort Hamilton, they advanced some twenty miles further, where they erected and garrisones another fort, to which they gave the name of St. Clair. Still continuing their un- interrupted journey, they erected and garrisoned a third fortress, to which they gave the name Fort Jefferson. But five or six weeks had been employed in these enterprises. For some unexplained reason there was great dissatisfaction in the camp. There had been very great mismanagement in the supply of provisions, and the providing of stores. When they reached a point about ninety miles from Fort Washington, sixty of the Kentuckians, disgusted with short rations, slow progress, and approaching snow storms, in a body shouldered their muskets, and bidding defiance to all authority commenced their march homewards. General St. Clair was daily expecting the arrival of provisions, in a caravan of wa- gons. Apprehensive that the deserters might seize these wagons, he hastily detached quite a large force to pursue the deserters, attack them if necessary, and rescue and protect the wagons. These various operations so diminished his forces, that his main army now consisted of but fourteen hundred men. His march became toilsome and difficult. The dreary month of November had come, with its storms of wind and rain. The route in a northwest direction, led through a flat, marshy, inhospitable region, covered with a dense forest. There was no road through these gloomy wilds. The ax had to be incessantly in use, in felling the trees, often of gigantic size, and in removing the stumps to open a passage for the baggage wagons and artillery. The heavily laden wheels often sank to their hubs. Governor St. Clair was aged, infirm, and was suffering severly from the gout. It was certainly indicated a want of judgement in him under those circumstances to have undertaken the leadership in so arduous a campaign. And it cannot be denied that he was entirely outgenerated by the Indian chiefs. On the third day of November the army reached a point about a hun- dred and twenty-five miles north from Fort Washington. They were still fifty miles from the Indian towns of the Maumee, which they were on the march to destroy. It was a dismal day, with chill winds, and the ground covered with snow. The soldiers were weary, and their feet were soaked with water. Cutting their way through the almost pathless forest, they approached a creek, about forty feet wide, which proved to be one of the tributaries of the Wabash. There was a small meadow on the banks of this stream, while the dense forest spread gloomily all around. Here General St. Clair took up his encampment for the night. He sent the militia across the creek by a ford, as the advanced guards of the army. They bivouacked in two parallel lines, with the space of about two hundred feet between them. Skilled in the use of the ax, they speedily cut down the trees, and roaring fires blazed n the intervening space, illuminating the forest far and wide, and enabling both parties to cook their suppers, and enjoy the genial warmth. No scouts were sent out, for all were nearly perishing with cold and wear- iness, and there were no indications whatever that any foe was at hand. But the cunning savages, in large numbers, were in the forest, watching every movement, and selecting their positions, every man behind a tree, from which, unseen and protected, the bullet could be thrown with unerring aim upon their foe, grouped together without any shelter. Upon the other side of the creek, the regulars were stationed in the same way, drawn up in two lines, and their camp-fires between them. They also cut down trees, and gathered around the fires which revealed every movement to their savage foe. It would seem that if the chief had directed General St. Clair how to post his troops, so as to secure their destruction, the work could not have been more effectually done. The night passed away in quietude. But through the lond hours of the night the savages, unseen and unheard, as with the silent tread of the panther, were making their preparations for the slaughter. It afterwards was made known that they were actually making themselved merry over the folly of the white men who were thus exposing themselves to certain destruction. The day had just began to dawn, and the militia on the farther side of the creek, in thoughtless confusion, were preparing their breakfast, when the yell of a thousand savages fell upon their ears, followed by the report of musketry, and a deadly discharge of bullets. Scarcely one missed his aim. The slaughter was so dreadful, that the panic-stricken militia fled instantly, and with the utmost precipitation. Many of them did not stop to pick up their guns. They plunged pell-mell through the creek, broke resistlessly through the first line, and stopped a tumultuous, helpless mass, at the second. All this was the work of but fifteen minutes. And now the little army of less than a thousand men, huddled together in terror-striken confusion, were ex- posed to a deadly fire from every direction. No foe to be seen, except when here and there a warrior darted from the protection of one gigantic tree to another. There was no room for courage, for bravery, save to meet death with- out a tremor. There was no room for heroism, save to fire or to charge upon an invisible foe. Colonel Drake was in command of the second line of regulars when the flight of the militia had been arrested. He succeeded in forming his line, and charged into the forest. The wary Indians in that portion of the circumference, retired before him, while a storm of bullets from all around was rapidly striking down his men. As Drake again drew back to his position, the Indians followed like the closing in of the waves of the sea. It seems as if a large party of Indian sharp-shooters had been specially designated to attack the artillerymen. In a short time, every man at the guns was shot down. Not an hour elapsed from the commencement of the conflict, before one-half of the men of St. Clair's army were either killed or wounded, and nearly every horse was shot. In the Governor's official accounty of this awful disaster, he writes: "Our artillery being silenced, and all the officers killed, except Captain Ford, who was badly wounded, more than half of the army fallen, being cut off from the road, it became necessary to attempt the regaining it, and to make a retreat if possible. To this purpose the remains of the army were formed, as well as circumstances would admit, towards the right of the encampment; from which, by the way of the second line, another charge was made upon the enemy, as if with design to turn their right flank, but it was, in fact, to gain the road. This was effected, and as soon as it was open the militia entered it, followed by the troops, Major Clarke, with his batallion, cover- ing the rear. The retreat in these circumstances was, you may be sure, a precipitate one. It was in fact a flight. The camp and artillery were abandoned. But that was unavoidable, as not a horse was left alive to have drawn it off, had it otherwise been practicable. "But the most disgraceful part of the business is, that the greatest part of the men threw away their arms and accouterments, even after the pursuit, which continued about four miles, had ceased. I found the road strewed with them for many miles, but was not able to remedy it; for having had all my horses killed, and being mounted on one that could not be pricked out of a walk, I could not get forward myself. The orders I sent forward, either to halt the front or prevent the men from parting with their arms, were unatten- ded to. The rout continued quite to Fort Jefferson, twenty-nine miles, which was reached a little after sunset. The action began about a half an hour before sunset, and the retreat was attempted at half-past nine o'clock. "I have now, sir, finished my melancholy tale; a tale that will be felt, sensibly felt, by every one that has sympathy for private distress, or for public misfortune. I have nothing to lay to the charge of the troops, but their want of discipline, which from the short time they had been in service, it was impossible they should have acquired, and which rendered it difficult when they were thrown into confusion to reduce them again to order; and is one reason why the loss has fallen so heavily upon the officers, who did everything in their power to effect it. Neither were my own exertions want- ing. But worn down with illness, and suffering under a painful disease, un- able to mount or dismount without assistance, they were not so great as they otherwise would, or perhaps ought to have been." In this dreadful disaster the Indians killed over nine hundred of St. Clair's army, took seven pieces of cannon, two hundred oxen, a great number of horses, but NO PRISONERS. The wounded were immediately, upon the field, tomahawked and scalped. The Indians only lost sixty-six warriors. The Governor was not wanting in bravery. Indeed the occasion was one in which there was no opportunity for a display of cowardice. There was no poss- ible covert to be found. Like men upon a shelterless plain, exposed to a hail storm, there was little to be done but bide the tempest. Eight bullets passed through his clothes and hat. He had four horses for his use; the first, a spirited colt, was so nervous and terrified by the firing that it required three or four persons to help the invalid governor to mount. He was hardly seated in the saddle when a bullet passed through the animal's head, and an arm of the boy who was holding him. Another horse was immediately brought, and while the attendants were removing the saddle from the dead steed to the living one, one bullet struck the horse in a vital part, and another the servant who held him, and they both dropped dead together. A person was dispatcher for the third horse. He did not return. Both horse and man fell dead by the way. One of the general's aids, Count de Malatie, had mounted the fourth horse, having lost his own, and the animal was shot beneath him. The governor, thus deprived of all of his horses, though suffering intense pain, exerted himself on foot, with an energy and alacrity which surprised every one. After some time a miserable worn-out packhorse was brought to him, just as he was so thoroughly exhausted that, but for that timely aid, he must have been left upon the field at the mercy of the Indians. Greatly would those savages have rejoiced to have kindled their fires and have passed the governor through that awful ordeal of torture and of death to which they had before doomed General Crawford. Among the incidents of the battle-field, the following are worthy of record. Major Jacob Fowler, a veteran pioneer, nearly whose whole life was spent amid the wildest scenes of the forest, was present on this occasion. In a very graphic account which he has given of these scenes he writes: "By this time there were about thirty men of Colonel Drake's command left standing, the rest being all shot down, and lying around us, either killed or wounded. I ran to the colonel, who was in the thickest of it, waving his sword to encourage his men, and told him we should all be down in five min- utes more if we did not charge them. 'Charge, then,' said he, to the little line that then remained, and they did so. I had been partially sheltered by a small tree. But a couple of Indians, who had taken a larger one, both fired at me at once. Feeling the steam of their guns, I supposed myself cut to pieces. But no harm had been done, and I brought my piece to my side and fired without aiming at the one who stood his ground, the fellow being so close to me that I could hardly miss him. I shot him through the hips, and while he was crawling away on all fours, Colonel Drake, who had been dismounted and stood close by me, made at him with his sword and struck his head off. "By this time the cock of my rifle lock had worn loose and gave me much trouble. Meeting with an acquaintance from Cincinnati, named McClure, I told him my difficulty. 'There is a first-rate rifle,' said he. I ran and got it, having ascertained that my bullets would fit it. Here I met Captain J. S. Gano, and observed to him 'that we were defeated, and that if we got got off we should need our rifles for subsistence in the woods.' The battle still raged, and at one spot might be seen a party of soldiers gathering together, having nothing to do but to present mere marks for the enemy. They appeared stupefied and bewildered by the danger. At another spot the soldiers had broken into the marquees of the officers, and were eating the breakfast from which those who had been called into the battle." "It must be remembered that neither officers nor men had eaten anything the whole morning. Some of the men were shot down in the very act of eating. Just where I stood, there were no Indians visible, although their rifle balls were striking all around. At last I saw an Indian break for a tree about forty yards off, behind which he loaded and fired four times, bringing down his man at every fire, and with such quickness as to give me no chance to take sight in the intervals of his firing. At length I got a range of two inches inside his back-bone, and blazed away. Down he fell, and I saw no more of him. "A short time after, I heard the cry given by St. Clair, and his adjutant- sergeant, to charge to the road. I ran across the army to where I had left my relative, Captain Piatt, and told him that the army was broken up and in full retreat. "'Don't say so,' he replied, 'you will discourage my men, and I can't be- lieve it.' I persisted a short time, when finding him obstinate, I said: "'If you will rush on your fate, then do it.' "I then ran off towards the rear of the army, which was making off rapid- ly. Piatt called after me, saying, 'Wait for me.' It was of no use to stop, for by this time the savages were in full chase, and hardly twenty yards be- hind me. Being uncommonly active in those days, I soon got from the rear to the front of the troops, although I had great trouble to avoid the bayonets which the men had thrown after the retreat with the sharp point towards their pursuers." Another incident of the battle related by McClung, in his Sketches of Western Adventure, gives the reader a vivid idea of the terrors of the scene. The late William Kennan, of Fleming County, at that time a young man of eighteen, was attached to the corps of rangers who accompanied the regular force. He had long been remarkable for strength and activity. In the course of the march from Fort Washington, he had repeated opportunities of testing his astonishing powers in that respect, and was universally admitted to be the swiftest runner in the light corps. On the evening preceding the action, his corps had been advanced, as al- ready observed, a few hundred yards in front of the first line of infantry, in order to give seasonable notice of the enemy's approach. Just as the day was dawning, he observed about thirty Indians within one hundred yards of the guard fire, advancing curiously toward the spot where he stood, together with about twenty rangers, the rest being considerably in the rear. Supposing it to be a mere scouting party, as usual, and not superior in number to the rangers, he sprang forward a few paces, in order to shelter himself in a spot of peculiarly rank grass, and firing a quick aim upon the foremost Indian, he instantly fell flat upon his face, and proceeded, with all prompt rapidity, to load his gun, not doubting, for a moment, but that the rangers would maintain their position and support him. The Indians, how- evern, rushed forward in such an overwhelming masses, that the rangers were compelled to fly with precipitation, leaving young Kennan in total ignorance of his danger. Fortunately the captain of his company had observed him when he threw himself in the grass, and suddenly shouted aloud, "Run, Kennan, or you are a dead man." He instantly sprang to his feet, and beheld Indians within ten feet of him, while his company was more than one hundred yards in front. Not a moment was to be lost. He darted off with every muscle strained to its utmost, and was pursued by a dozen of the enemy with loud yells. He at first pressed forward to the usual fording place in the creek, which ran be- tween the rangers and the main army. But several Indians, who had passed him before he rose from the grass, threw themselves in the way and completely cut him off from the rest. By the most powerful exertions he had thrown the whole body of his pursuers behind him, with the exception of one young chief, who displayed a swiftness and perserverance equal to his own. In the circuit which Kennan was obliged to make the race continued for more than four hun- dred yards. The distance between them was about eighteen feet, which Kennan could not increase, nor his adversary diminish. Each, for the time, put his whole soul into the race. Kennan, as far as he was able, kept his eye upon the motions of his pur- suer, lest he should throw the tomahawk, which he held aloft, in a menacing attitude. At length finding that no other Indian was immediately at hand, he determined to try the metal of his pursuer, in a different manner, and felt for his tomahawk in order to turn at bay. It had escaped from its sheath, while he lay in the grass. His hair almost lifted his cap from his head when he saw himself totally disarmed. At he had slackened his pace for a moment, the Indian was almost within reach of him, when he recommenced the race. But the idea of being without arms lent wings to his flight, and, for the first time, he saw himself gaining ground. He had watched the motions of his pur- suer too closely, however, to pay proper attention to the nature of the ground before him, and he suddenly found himself in front of a large tree, which had been blown down, and upon which brush and other impediments lay, to the height of eight or nine feet. The Indian who, heretofore, had not uttered the slightest sound, now gave a short, quick yell, as if secure of his victim. Kennan had not a moment to deliberate. He must clear the impediment at a leap or perish. Putting his whole soul into the effort, he bounded into the air with a power which aston- ished himself, and clearing limbs, brush and every thing else, alighted, in perfect safely, upon the other side. A loud yell of astonishment burst from the band of pursuers, not one of whom had the hardihood to attempt the same feat. Kennan, as may be readily imagined, had no leisure to enjoy his tri- umph. But dashing into the bed of the creek, upon the banks of which the feat had been performed, where the high banks would shield him from the fire of the enemy, he ran up the stream until a convenient place offered for crossing, and rejoined the rangers in the rear of the encampment, panting from the fatigue of exertions which have seldom been surpassed. No breathing time was allowed him, however. The attack instantly commenced, as we have already observed, and was continued for three hours with unabated fury. Then the retreat commenced. Kennan was attached to Major Clarke's batta- lion, and had the dangerous service of protecting the rear. This corps quickly lost it commander, and was completely disorganized. Kennan was among the hindmost when the flight commenced, but by exerting those some powers which had saved him in the morning, he quickly gained the front, passing several horsemen in the flight. Here he beheld a private of his own company, an in- timate acquaintance, lying upon the ground, with his thigh broken, and, in tones of the most piercing distress, imploring each horseman who hurried by, to take him up behind him. As soon as he beheld Kennan coming up, on foot, he stretched out his arms, and called aloud for him to save him. Notwith- standing the imminent peril of the moment, his friend could no reject so passionate an appeal, but swinging him in his arms, he placed him upon his back, and ran, in that manner, for several hundred yards. Horseman after horseman passed them, all of whom refused to relieve him of his burden. At length the enemy was gaining upon him so fast, that Kennan saw their death certain, unless he relinquished his burden. He accordingly told his friend that he had used every possible exertion to save his life, but in vain; that he must relax his hold around his neck or they both would perish. The unhappy wretch, heedless of every remonstrance, still clung convulsively to his back, and impeded his exertions, until the foremost of the enemy, armed with tomahawks alone, were within twenty yards of them. Kennan then drew his knife from its sheath, and cut the fingers of his companion, thus compelling him to relinquish his hold. The unhappy man rolled upon the ground in utter helplessness, and Kennan beheld him tomahawked before he had gone thirty yards. Relieved of his burder he darted forward with an activity which once more brought him to the van. Here again he was compelled to ne- glect his own safety in order to attend to that of others. Mr. Madison, of Kentucky, subsequently Governor of the State, was at that time a subaltern in St. Clair's army. He was a man who united the most ami- able temper with the most unconquerable courage. Being a young man of rather feeble constitution, he was totally exhausted by the exertions of the morn- ing, and was now sitting down upon a log, calmly awaiting the approach of his enemies. Kennan hastily accosted him and inquired the cause of his delay. Madison, pointing to a wound which had bled profusely, replied that he was unable to walk farther and had no horse. Kennan instantly ran back to a spot where he had seen and exhausted horse grazing, caught him without difficulty, and having assisted Madison to mount, walked by his side until they plunder of the camp presented irresistable attractions to the enemy. The friendship thus formed between these two young men endured, without interruption, through life. Mr. Kennan never entirely recovered from the immense exertions which he was compelled to make during this unfortunate expedition. He settled in Fleming County, and continued for many years a leading member of the Baptist Church. He died in 1827. Among those engaged in this disastrous battle there was a gentleman from New Jersey, Captain Littell, with his son Stephen. The captain had been a man of war from his youth. He had been engaged in thirteen skirmished with the Indians, and had gained much reputation in the battles of the Revolution at Brandywine and Germantown. Having been unfortunate in business, he had turned his attention to the new lands at the West. His son, who accompanied him, had just attained his majority. The captain thinking that, as a member of St. Clair's expedition, he would have a fine opportunity of exploring the country, applied for a commission. Being too late in his application, both he and his son enlisted in the ranks. He entertained the supposition, which unfortunately was very general, that ther would be no fighting. It was thought that the Indians, appalled by the approach of so formidable a force, would not only make no resistance, but that they would throw down their arms and beg for peace. The company to which Captain Littell and his son attached themselves was composed mainly of young men from New Jersey, most of whom had come out for the purpose of viewing the country. This company was esteemed one of the best of the militia corps. It was stationed in the advance, upon the other side of the creek, where the savages commenced their onset. Captain Littell, being hotly engaged in the fight, was not aware of the order to retreat, until the enemy were all around him. With the gleaming tomahawks of the savages almost over his head, he sprang forward to cross the stream. As he leaped down the precipitous bank, he stumbled and fell, and thus escaped the shower of bullets whistling all around him. He fell into a hollow of mud and water. The pursuing Indians, supposing him to be shot dead, and that they could return at their leisure for his scalp, rushed by for other victims. Fortunately, the captain was somewhat screened from observation by the rank grass and dense underbrush which fringed the stream. His boots were filled with water, thus rendering rapid flight impossible. As he was emptying his boots and making other preparations for escape, he was discovered by a soli- tary Indian, who, supposing him to be helplessly wounded, rushed incautiously towards him to take his scalp. He stumbled over some slight impediment, and Captain Little, springing up, plunged his sword to the hilt in his bosom. The savage dropped dead into the water. The captain then fled into the forest. After two days of solitary wandering, and much suffering, he reached Fort Jefferson in safety. The escape of his son, Stephen, was still more remarkable. At the commence- ment of the battle, he was at the extreme advance. Being unable to keep up with his comrades, in their precipitate flight, he sprung aside, and hid in a dense thicket. The yelling savages rushed by in their hot pursuit. The In- dians were thus soon between him and the rest of the troops. Here he remained for some time, in dreadful suspense, as the roar of the battle died away in the distance, the Indians being in full chase of the flying army. He then ventured slowly forward, until he reached the scene of the night's encampment. Awful was the scene presented to him there. The bodies of nine hundred of the killed and wounded encumbered the ground. It was a cold, frosty morning. The scalped heads presented a very revolting spectacle, a peculiar vapor ascending from them all. Many of these poor creatures were still alive. Groans ascended from all sides. Several of the wounded, knowing that as soon as the savages returned they would be doomed to death by torture, implored young Littell to put an end to their misery. This he refused to do. Seeing among the dead one who bore a strong resemblance to his father, he was in the act of turning over the body to examine the features when the exultant and terrific shouts of the returning savages fell upon his ear, and already he could see through the forest the plumed warriors rushing back. It so chanced that an evergreen tree of very dense foliage had been felled near where he stood. It was his only possible covert. He sprange into the tree, and turned its branches, as well as he could, around him. Scarcely had he done this than the savages came bounding upon the ground, like so many demons. Immediately they commenced their fiend-like acts of torture upon all the wounded. One of their principal amusements was to bind a captive to a tree, and see how near to his head they could throw their tomahawks without killing him. If the cruel weapon chanced to strike the cheek or brow, bring- ing forth the gushing blood, it only awoke fresh shouts of merriments, giving additional zest to the game. One of the tomahawks thus thrown came so near the tree where Stephen was concealed, that he could have stooped forward and picked it up. As the savage sprung to get it, Littell felt sure that his keep eye was fixed upon him, and he doubted not that his dreadful doom was sealed. The Indian, fortunately, did not see him; but, catching up his murderous weapon, sank it to the helve in the brain of the victim he was torturing. The scenes he continued to witness were as awful as the imagination can conceive. Incredible as it may seem, it is stated that there were two hundred and fifty women among the campfollowers in this campaign. This can only be accounted for upon the supposition that they, with the rest of the community, imagined that there would be no fighting; that a treaty of friendship would be made with the Indians, and that the garrisons would be established, under whose protection they, with their husbands, might find new homes. Fifty-six of them were killed, and they were tortured, if possible, even more unmerci- fully than the men. Some accounts state that two hundred of these women fell victims to savage barbarity. One woman was running with her babe, but one year old, in her arms. In utter exhaustion, as she was about to fall by the wayside, she threw her wailing child into the snow. The Indians picked up the babe, spared its life, and took it to Sandusky, where it was brought up as one of the tribe. Some years after this dreadful defeat of the Americans, an old Indian wo- man, speaking of the event, said: "Oh, my arm, that night, was weary with scalping white men." We have no means of ascertaining what number of warriors the Indians brought into the battle. There is no evidence that at the commencement of the conflict they exceeded the number General St. Clair commanded. But, in an hour, nearly one-hald of General St. Clair's army was destroyed, and the remainder were in tumultuous and frenzied flight. This gave the Indians an immense superi- ority. Their victory was clearly the result, not of overwhelming numbers, but of superior generalship. The fugitives scarcely stopped to breathe until they reached Fort Jeffer- son, about thirty miles from the field of battle. Here they met the First Regiment, which had been sent back for the protection of the baggage-wagons. As they had but just erected the fort, and left it in a small garrison, there were no supplies there for the exhausted, bleeding, starving army. General St. Clair, in his official report, writes: "Taking a view of the situation of our broken troops at Fort Jefferson, and that there were no provisions in the fort, I called upon the field offi- cers for their advice as to what was proper further to be done. It was there unanimous opinion that the addition of the First Regiment, unbroken as it was, did not put the army on so respectable a footing as it was in the morning, because a great part of it was now unarmed; that it had been found unequal to the enemy, and should they come on, which was probable, it would be found so again; that the troops could not be thrown into the fort, because it was too small, and there were no provisions in it; that provisions were known to be upon the road, at the distance of one, or at the most two, marches; that therefore it would be proper to move, without loss of time, to meet the provisions, when the men might have the sooner opportunity of some refresh- ment; and that a detachment might be sent forward with supplies, to be safely deposited in the fort." Agreeably to this advice, the exhausted and terrified army was again put upon the march at ten o'clock of that very night. Through all the dark hours they dragged along their weary feet. The next morning they fortunately met some wagons containing flour. Part of this was distributed among the almost famished troops, and part was sent forward to the relief of the little garrison in Fort Jefferson. The main body now pressed on to Cincinnati, where it took shelter beneath the walls of Fort Washington. Not long after this two white women, who had been prisoners in the Miami villages, escaped. They said that the Indian warriors made all manner of fun in describing the manner in which Governor St. Clair posted his troops. They even got up a sham fight, in representation of it, for the amusement of the squaws. With roars of laughter they reenacted the scene, calling it St. Clair's fight and dance. They said that they intended annually to celebrate the vic- tory by a similar contemptuous festival. But war is a very uncertain game; and the braggadocio is very apt eventu- ally to be humbled. Not long after this the Indians had their turn, in dan- cing, as they were pierced by the bullets of the white man; and they found something more serious to attend to than engaging in mock fights. There were three distinguished Indian chieftains who led in this battle - Blue Jacket, Buckongahelas, and Little Turtle. These were all men of remark- able ability, and we shall hear from them again. Little Turtle became very much interested in the civilization of his tribe. He made very minute inquiries of General Harrison, respecting the organization of the National Government. In the war of 1812 he met Kosciusko, in Philadelphia, and quite a warm friend- ship sprang up between them Little Turtle lived several years after the war, with a high reputation for wisdom, humanity and courage. Schoolcraft writes of him: "There have been few individuals, among the aborigines, who have done so much to abolish the rites of human sacrifice. The grave of this noted warrior is shown to visitors near Fort Wayne. It is frequently visited by the Indians in that part of the country, by whom his memory is cherished with the greatest respect and veneration." When Volney, the celebrated French traveler and philosopher, was in this country, he sought an interview with this illustrious Indian chief in Phil- adelphia, in the year 1797. From him he obtained a valuable vocabulary of the language of his tribe. In one of these interviews Volney said to Little Turtle: "Why do you not live among the whites? Is not life in Philadelphia more comfortable than upon the banks of the Wabash?" The chief replied: "Taking all things together, you have the advantage over us. But here I am deaf and dumb. I do not talk your language. I can neither hear nor make myself heard. When I walk through the streets I see every person in his shop employed about something; one makes shoes, another hats, a third sells cloth, and every one lives by his labor. I say to myself, which of all these things can you do? Not one. I can make a bow or an arrow, catch fish, kill game, and go to war. But none would require a very long time. Old age comes on. I should be a piece of furniture useless to the whites, and useless to myself. I must retrun to my own country." Mr. Volney says that the skin of Little Turtle, were it not exposed, was as white as his own. Upon his mentioning this to the chief one day, he said: "I have seen Spaniards in Louisiana, and found no difference of color be- tween them and me. And why should there be any? In them, as with us, it is the work of the Sun, the great father of colors, which burns us." Colonel John Johnston, in his "Recollections," says that Little Turtle was a man of great vivacity, and that he was particularly fond of the society of gentlemen, and of a good dinner. He had two wives living in the same lodge with him. One, having been the choice of his youth, had grown old, being about fifty, and had sunk into a mere household drudge. The other was really a beautiful Indian girl of eighteen. She was the undisguised favorite, and yet there was never any feeling of jealousy perceptible between them. Little Turtle was fond of telling of his war adventures. One anecdote he used to relate with much gusto, in which he himself ahd been outwitted by a white man. "A white man," said he, "a prisoner of many years in the tribe, had often solicited permission to go on a war party, and had been refused. It never was the practice of the Indians to ask or encourage white prisoners among them to go to war against their countrymen. This man, however, had so far won the confidence of the Indians, and being very importunate, that at length we consented, and I took him on an expedition to Kentucky. "As was our practice, we had carefully reconnoitered, and had fixed on a house recently built as the one to be attacked the next morning before the dawn of day. The house was surrounded by a clearing, there being much brush and fallen timber on the ground. At the appointed time the Indians, with the white man, began to move to the attack. At all such times no talking or noise is to be made. They creep along on their hands and feet. All is done by signs from the leader. "The white man, all the time, was striving to be foremost, while the In- dians were beckoning him to keep back. In spite of all their efforts he would keep ahead. And having, at length, got within running distance of the house, he jumped to his feet and went with all his speed, shouting at the top of his voice, Indians! Indians! We had to make a precipitate retreat, losing for- ever our white companion and disappointed in our fancied conquest of the log cabin. From that day I would never trust a white man to accompany me again to war." Kosciusko presented Little Turtle with a favorite brace of pistols, saying to him: "These pistols I have carried and used in many a hard fought battle in defense of the oppressed, the weak, the wronged of my own race. I now present them to you with the injunction that with them you shoot dead the first man who ever comes to subjugate you or despoil you of your country." Buckongahelas was a war chief of the Delawares. He had been so much under the influence of the Moravian missionaries that he might be almost deemed a civilized man. He was endowed with unusual native strength of mind, and had been greatly exasperated at the massacre of his unoffending brethren by the infamous Colonel Williamson. He also felt outraged by the fraudulent treat- ies, through which the white men were nominally purshasing land of Indians, who had no right to dispose of it. In council there was no man who could speak more vehemently or more to the point than he. Mr. B. B. Thatcher says that no Christian knight was ever more scrupulous in performing all his engagements than was Buckongahelas. He had all the qualifications of a hero. His independence was of a noble nature, and all who approached him were im- pressed by his dignity of character. Blue Jacket, the leading chief of the Shawanese, had also attained much distinction as a warrior. There are, however, but few particulars of his history is recorded. The simple explanation of the defeat of St. Clair is, that he had chieftains arrayed against him who were vastly his superiors in the art of war. He was brave and energetic, with but little ability to con- duct a campaign. Does the question arise, How was it possible for such men as these chief- tains are represented to have been, to have allowed such horrible atrocities of barbaric torture as were inflicted upon their victims? It is very diffi- cult to answer this question. Alas for man! Read the history of the Spanish Inquisition and see what civilized and professedly Christian men can do even in the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Never did savage atrocities surpass those which civilized, educated and nominally religious men have per- petrated upon their brother man. And these Inquisitors were often tender hus- bands and loving fathers. It would seem as though the fiend and the angel may dwell together in the same human bosom.