OHIO STATEWIDE FILES - HISTORY: Chapter 33 (Abbott, John S. C., 1875)
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			Chapter XXXIII
		       War with England

   At the commencement of the war with England in 1812, Governor William Hull,
of Michigan, was ordered into Ohio to raise troops to take possession of the
military post at Detroit. The movement contemplated crossing the river into
Canada, and a march upon Quebec. Return J. Meigs was then Governor of Ohio.
He immediately raised, in Ohio, three regiments of volunteers for three months.
During the months of April and May these troops were rendezvoused at Dayton.
Early in June they marched up the Valley of the Great Miami to Stauton, and
then were reassembled at Urbana, where they were joined by a regiment of 
regulars. The whole force now numbered about two thousand five hundred men.
   In the middle of June Governor Hull took the command and commenced his
march through the unbroken forest towards Detroit. After a toilsome tramp of
about twenty-four miles, they came to a spot where they erected a block house
which they called McArthur's, in honor of Colonel Duncan McArthur, who 
commanded the first regiment. Making this a depot for gathering stores, they
pushed on some fifteen miles farther, until they found themselves struggling
through a marshly expanse resembling an immense morass. Upon a spot of solid
ground here they erected another fort of logs, which they called Necessity.
They then pressed forward directly north, cutting their way for the wagons
through the dense forest a distance of about twenty miles, until they reached
the banks of Blanchard's Fork, one of the tributaries of the Maumee. Here,
just west of a point where a bridge now crosses the stream, they constructed
a stockade about fifty yards square with block-houses at each of the corners,
and a ditch in front, which they called Fort Findlay. It was named after 
Colonel James Findlay, who commanded the second regiment. Thence a march of
about thirty-six miles through pathless wilds, covered with the gloom of 
gigantic forests, brought them to the Maumee, at the spot where Perrysburg
now stands.
   The army reached this point on the thirteenth of June, fifteen days after
leaving Dayton. The stores were conveyed in one hundred and six heavy wagons.
The distance they had marched was about one hundred and twenty miles. For 
nearly the whole of the route they had to cut their path through the wood. 
About forty miles of the journey these toil-worn, suffering men waded a 
swamp knee deep at every step. Thirteen of the wagons were left behind hopelessly
mired. The block-houses which they erected on the way served a double purpose.
They were stations where fresh supplies of provisions and ammunition could
be stored, and they served as taverns where travelers and detachments could
rest.
   The following incident will illustrate their value: One dark and windy
night during the war, Captain William Oliver, in company with a Kentuckian, 
left Fort Meigs for Fort Findlay, on an errand of much importance. The distance
was about thirty-three miles. It was a very hazardous enterprise, for Indian
bands, in alliance with the British, were everywhere roaming the forest. They
pushed on as rapidly as possible through the darkness, being well mounted, 
until a little after midnight, when they suddenly came upon an encampment of
Indians gathered around their smoldering campfires.
   The Indians, ever sleeping as it were with one eye open, heard the tramp
of their approaching horses, and rushed in a band upon them. The darkness was
such that the eye could pierce it to but a very short distance. Captain Oliver
and his companions put spurs to their horses, and dashed recklessly through
the forest. The Indians hotly pursued, guided by the noise of the breaking
branches. As the morning was dawning the fugitives reached Fort Findlay.
Their clothes were almost entirely torn from their bodies by the brambles and
bushes through which they had rushed. Their bodies were sadly bruised and
bleeding by contusions against the trees. As they rejoicingly entered the
fort they looked back and saw the howling savages close upon their heels.
   Governor Hull, with his army, crossed the Maumee in boats just below the
rapids. They then continued their march to Detroit, which they reached on the
fifth of July. On the twelfth he crossed the river into Canada to reconnoiter
the strength of the enemy there, and to collect provisions. He soon saw, as
he thought, indications that the British, having gained the alliance of nearly
all the warriors of the northwestern tribes, were vastly superior to him in
force. He therefore early in August re-crossed the river to take shelter 
beneath the walls of his fortress at Detroit.
   On the fourteenth of August, General Brock, the British commander, erected
a formidable battery on the Canadian shore, directly opposite the American
fort, and the next day summoned Hull to surrender. This being refused, he 
opened fire and continued vigorously through the night throwing bombs into 
the fort. At the same time, while thus diverting the attention of the garrison, 
he sent security a strong force of British soldiers and Indians across the
river to storm the fort. It is said that this force consisted of seven hundred
regulars and six hundred Indians. Mr. Caleb Atwater, in his history of Ohio, 
gives the following account of what ensued:
   "In the morning it was discovered that the enemy had landed at Springwells.
Having thus landed in safety, and without opposition, at ten o'clock A. M.
he marched in columns twelve deep to attack the American garrison. The fort, 
or as our soldiers used to call it, The Sheep Pen, was so situated that the
soldiers could approach within two hundred yards of it before the guns of
the garrison could injure them. A detachment of the American force, however, 
was sent out, and judiciously posted to prevent the advance of the enemy.
   "But at the very moment when every American in the army except its 
commander was ready and anxious to begin the mortal combat with an enemy of
inferior numbers, consisting mostly of either raw militia or Indians, what
were the emotions of our army when they were ordered into the fort, and to lay
down their arms. They reluctantly obeyed, and a white flag was raised on the 
fort.
   "Without shedding a drop of blood, without firing a single gun, the fort, 
with all its cannon, taken with Burgoyne at Saratoga from the British, with 
a vast amount of powder, lead, cannon balls and all the munitions of war, -
all, all were surrendered, unconditionally surrendered to the enemy. The
enemy himself must have doubted his own senses on that occasion. Let us see:
twenty-five hundred men with all their arms; twenty-five pieces of iron cannon, 
and eight brass ones; forty barrels of powder, - all were surrendered without
firing a gun to about one thousand militia and a few Indians."
   Such has been the general view of Governor Hull's deplorable surrender. 
On the other hand, Mr. John J. Anderson, in his history of the United States,
writes:
   "Hull's conduct, two years after, underwent examination by court-martial, 
and though he was acquitted of treason, the court pronounced him guilty of
cowardice, and he was sentenced to be shot. But in consideration of his age
and revolutionary services, the sentence was remitted by President Madison.
Hull's conduct was severly criticised at the time, as well as in after years.
But a series of letters which he published in 1824, and a volume which appeared
at a still later period, together formed a complete vindication of his 
surrender as regards either the charge of treason or cowardice."
   It is our duty here simply to give the historic facts, but we are not called
upon to enter into the discussion of this question. Just before the surrender,
Colonels McArthur and Cass had been dispatched with four hundred of the best
troops back into Ohio to convoy a train of baggage wagons on its way to 
Detroit. No train was to be found. On their return, they had arrived within
about nine miles of Detroit when they were met by a detachment of the British
with a flag of truce, who informed them that they had been surrendered by
Governor Hull prisoners of war. They were marched into Detroit, where they
laid down their arms upon the pavement, and were then imprisoned in the fort, 
which was already so crowded that they had scarcely room to lie down.
   Eventually the militia were allowed to return home on their parole not to
serve again during the war. They were landed from boats at the mouth of Huron
River, at Cleveland, and at various other points along the southern shore of
Lake Erie; and then crossed the state to their distant places of residence as
best they could. General Hull and the officers and soldiers of the regular
army were carried in triumph to Montreal and Quebec, to be exhibited as the
trophies of British prowess.
   The surrender of Hull was as disastrous as it was humiliating. Not only
the important military post of Detroit, but the whole of Michigan, thus passed
into the hands of our enemies. Disaster followed disaster in this region, 
and it is undeniable that the most amazing want, not of courage or of energy, 
but of military ability, was often manifested by our officers. Men were sent
out on distant expeditions in mid-winter. Their sufferings were incredible.
Their horses, starving for want of forage, dropped beneath them. The men, 
thinly clad, had their hands and feet terribly frozen. One's heart is appalled
in reading the account of their sufferings.
   There were two or three Indian towns on the Missisiniway River in Indiana.
It was deemed expedient to destroy these towns. It required a horseback march
of ten days to accomplish this. The freezing blasts and storms of December
were howling through the forest. In that inclement season one could scarcely
keep comfortable in the snuggest log hut with roaring fires. The troops 
reached the villages, commenced the assault in a midnight attack, burned the
towns, killed a few Indians, and captured forty-two women and children.
   For this achievement they paid the price of exposing six hundred men to 
great suffering; twelve of them were killed and forty wounded. Of the wounded,
many were life-long cripples. A large number of the horses were shot by the
Indians. It was the 12th of December, 1812, when these suffering men reached
Fort Greenville on their return. "The roads," it is said, "were in as horrible
condition as frost, snow, mud and ice could make them. Their horses were 
almost starved. The soldiers were one and all more or less frost bitten. They
were badly provided with provisions, and even ammunition was wanting." The
reason for this terrible expedition, was to prevent the Indians from having
a place of retreat, whence they could issue and interrupt the intercourse
between our settlements and Fort Wayne. But it is not improbable that the 
Indians had all their frail huts reconstructed, before the half-starved and
frozen troops got back to Fort Wayne.
   It is a painful task to record some of these needless disasters. On the
20th of January, 1813, Generals Lewis and Winchester, with a combined force
of about one thousand men, after very severe and somewhat successful fighting,
were encamped on each side of Stony Creek, near Frenchtown, about eighteen
miles from the British headquarters, at Malden. That evening a Frenchman 
informed Colonel Winchester that three thousand men were about leaving
Fort Maldin to attack him. There was no discipline among the men. They wandered
about at will. No guard was placed on the road leading to Maldin. The enemy, 
that very night approached unobserved, to within three hundred yards of our
army, and posted their artillery unmolested.
   Just as morning was dawning, a tremendous shower of balls, bombs and grape
shot fell upon the sleeping encampment, and at the same moment the yells of
savages, apparently in countless numbers, on the right and left flank of our
troops, announced that they were almost surrounded. An awful scene of tumult, 
terror and blood ensued. Our troops, thus taken by surprise, and utterly
overpowered, were soon put to the rout, while the ground was covered with
their slain. They were shot down, tomahawked and scalped without mercy.
   The snow was deep, the cold intense; Winchester and Lewis were both taken
prisoners, and were carried to the tent of the British general, Proctor. 
Conscious that the prolongation of the struggle was only prolonging the 
slaughter of their own men, they agreed to surrender. They were surrounded by
three times their own number, their ammunition was expended. The captured
troops were marched off to Maldin. They numbered five hundred and forty men.
A large number were left behind, so severely wounded that they could not be
moved. 
   The next morning two hundred Indians came down from Maldin. They were
painted black, and it is scarcely possible that the British officers should 
not have known the mission upon which they had entered. By the terms of the
surrender, General Proctor agreed to protect his captives by a guard. No such
guard was furnished the wounded.
   The savages at once, with frantic yells, commenced the work of plunder and
of slaughter. Everywhere was to be seen the gleam of the murderous tomahawk
and the scalping knife. There were two large log houses, crowded with the
wounded. The Indians set them both on fire, and the poor creatures were consumed
in the flames. Some who tried to crawl out the windows were tomahawked and
thrown back into the glowing furnace. In these awful scenes of battle and of
massacre two hundred and ninety Americans perished. These were generally
young men, from the best families of Kentucky and Ohio. The wife of Henry
Clay lost a brother here, who was killed and scalped by the savages.
   "For a disaster so terrible who was to blame?" writes Mr. Atwater, "Not
General Harrison, because he never ordered such a rash movement of Winchester's
force. He had no knowledge of the movement until Winchester's express informed
him, when he was at Sandusky, at the distance of sixty or seventy miles from 
the rapids. Harrison then clearly foresaw that Winchester had thrown himself
into the very jaws of the enemy, beyond the reach of succor."
   When General Harrison heard the tidings of the disaster, he dispatched Dr.
McKeehan to Malden with money and medicines for the relief of the sick and
wounded. The doctor was furnished with an open letter, addressed to any British
officer whom he might meet. He also bore a flag of truce. On the way he was
attacked, his guide slain, and he was taken prisoner. Thus he was conveyed
to Malden. There he found sick and wounded in an open, muddy wood yard, 
without fire. Proctor took from him his watch, his money, his letter, his
flag of truce, his horse and his cariole. He then put him into irons and sent
him by way of Niagara to Quebec. The doctor was finally released from his 
captivity, but the hardships to which he had been exposed utterly undermined
his constitution, and ere long death relieved him of his sufferings.
   General Harrison now found it necessary to withdraw his army from the
Rapidoffo the Maumee about eighteen miles east to Portage River. The retreat
commmenced on the 2d of March. A volunteer from Pittsburgh, in a letter to a
friend, thus describes the sufferings they endured.
   "Early the next morning, at two o'clock, our tents were struck, and in
half an hour we were on our way. I will candidly confess that on that day I
regretted being a soldier. We marched thirty miles in an incessant rain. For
eight miles of that thirty the water was over our knees, and often up to the 
middle. The black swamp, four miles from Portage River, and four miles in 
extent, would have been considered impassable by any men not determined to 
surmount every obstacle. The water on the ice was about six inches deep. The
ice was very rotten, often breaking through where the water was four or five
feet deep. That night we encamped on the best ground we could find, but it 
was very wet. It was next to impossible to kindle fires. We had no tents, no
axes, our clothes were perfectly soaked through, and we had but little to 
eat. Two logs rolled together, to keep me out of the water, was my bed."
   General Harrison was very anxious to gain Detroit that Winter, if it were
possible. Therefore assembling all the troops he could on the Sandusky, early
in February he returned to the Maumee. It was, however, by this time evident
that the enterprise must for the present be postponed.
   Here General Harrison established his extreme advance post in the Northwest,
on the left banks of the Maumee. There were at this time sixty-seven white
families residing at the foot of the rapids, within the circumference of 
about ten miles. Quite a spacious fortress was erected here, which was called
Fort Meigs, after the distinguished Governor of Ohio of that name. The British
Fort Malden, on the eastern banks of the Detroit River, not far from its
entrance into the lake, was distant from Fort Meigs but two or three days'
march.
   Early in February General Harrison had about two thousand men at that post.
A friendly Indian brought intelligence tot he fort that six hundred Indian
warriors were encamped on the shore of Maumee Bay, about twenty miles north
of Fort Meigs. It was bitter cold weather, in the very heart of Winter. That
very night the enterprising general took a select band of eleven hundred men,
and marched down the river on the ice, which was apparently as solid as if 
it had been a bed of eternal granite. They soon came in sight of the camp-fires
on the north side of the river; but the Indians had all fled. The Indians
ever kept their scouts on the alert. Seldom could their foes make any movement
whatever without its being immediately reported at their encampment.
   The morning had not yet dawned. The fires, still burning, proved that the
Indians could not be far distant. Cold as it was, it was decided, without
stopping to warm themselves, immediately to pursue the fugitives. Many, however,
were so exhausted that they could go no farther. They were directed to make
themselves as comfortable as they could through the night, and follow on the
next day.
   The remainder of the indomitable little band resumed its march. They had
proceeded but about two miles when they came to the head of the Maumee Bay.
Here they were exposed to the full force of the freezing blasts which swept
the whole breadth of Lake Erie. The ice, also, upon the expanded waters 
became more thin. Their only cannon, with the horses attached, broke through.
It was still two hours before the dawn of the morning. The moon, which had
thus far shone upon their icy path, was not sinking behind the forests. Three
of the men, in attempting to extricate the horses, were also plunged into 
that terrible bath, and narrowly escaped drowning. It was not safe to proceed
without the cannon, and that could not be recovered until the light of day.
The soldiers, waiting for two hours of midnight darkness on the bleak ice, 
without shelter and without fires, suffered intensely. As soon as the gun 
was recovered they pushed on toward the River Raisin, which empties into the 
extreme western border of the lake. Near here they learned from their scouts,
about sunrise, that the fleet-footed Indians were far away in their retreat,
and would soon be behind the walls of Fort Malden. The weary, half-frozen
bane, having accomplished nothing by all their sufferings, returned to Fort
Meigs just as the evening gun had been fired. They had performed a march of
forty-five miles on the ice in less than twenty-four hours.
   A few days after this another expedition was undertaken, which we knew
not whether to designate as heroic or desparate. On Friday, the 26th of January,
General Harrison called for volunteers to set out on a secret enterprise, which
he informed them was important by hazardous in the extreme. Two hundred and
fifty men volunteered. He told them that they would not be informed of the
nature of the enterprise until they were at some distance from the fort.
   About fifty miles east of Fort Meigs, on the Sandusky River, where the
Town of Lower Sandusky now stands, there was a block-house called Fort
Saunderson. It was garrisoned by two companies of militia. On the 2d of March
they left the log-house with six days' provisions. Captain Langham was in
command. When they had proceeded about half a mile he ordered a halt. He then
revealed to them the object of the expedition. It was to march along Lake
Erie, on the shore and on the ice, as best they could, till they reached the
banks of Detroit River opposite Fort Malden. Quite a large British fleet, 
laden with provisions, was frozen in at but a short distance from the fort.
In the darkness of a winter's night they were to cross the river on the ice
and set fire to the fleet, and the store-houses on the shore, with combustibles
which they bore with them. They were then to retreat as rapidly as possible
to the head of Maumee Bay, where Governor Harrison would meet them with a
large force and escort them safely back to Fort Meigs. This surely was
infatuation, not courage. The success of the enterprise depended upon so many
contingencies that it could not reasonably have been expected.
   Having explained the plan Captain Langham gave liberty to all who deemed it
too hazardous to withdraw. Twenty of the militia and seven of the Indians
availed themselves of the liberty. The whole party, officers and men, now 
consisted of but two hundred. Of these twenty-four were drivers of sleds, 
and fourteen were Indian guides and scouts. It was known that the fort at 
Malden was strongly garrisoned by British troops, and that a body of nearly
a thousand Indian warriors was encamped near by.
   Captain Langham and his party marched as rapidly as possible down the western
shores of Sandusky Bay. It was the wintry, windy, stormy month of March. Some
marched on the land, and crossed the peninsula through the rugged wilderness
to Portage River. Others took the smoother, but far more circuitous path, on
the ice. A fierce tempest arose of rain and sleet. The soldiers were not
provided with tents. They encamped in the storm, and through an awful night 
of suffering were drenched and half frozen. The next day, March 3, they pushed
their adventurous way on the ice out in the lake to Middle Bass Island, about
seventeen miles from their encampment of the preceeding night. Just before
they left the land for this island, about twenty men, including several Indians,
utterly disheartened, deserted. The wind was then blowing fiercely from the 
north, and a smothering storm of snow beating into their faces, impeding
their progress.
   Early in the afternoon they reached the northwest side of the island, when
the weather began to moderate. It was supposed that one continuous sheet of
ice would extend from there across the lake to Malden. But it was found that
the ice north of the island was weak, and in the distant north the ice seemed
to be broken up. There were also marks upon the ice. Some persons, probably
spies, had recently passed that way to give the British warning of their 
approach.
   Their plan had been to go by what is called the Western Sister Island. But
the guides now gave it as their opinion that it was impossible in that way
to reach Malden. They said that the lake from the Middle Sister Island was
doubtless broken up, as was also the River Detroit. From the Middle Sister
Island the distance to the mouth of the Detroit River was eighteen miles. To
avoid being seen it would be necessary to perform that march in the dark. But
as the weather was stormy and the ice soft, it might not be possible to accomplish
this. Moreover there was great danger that a northerly wind might blow up, 
and they might be caught on the breaking, crashing ice, or if they should 
reach an island they might be there hopelessly cut off. The guides, therefore,
unanimously and peremptorily declared that they did not consider it safe to
go any farther; and that if Captain Langham persisted to advance he must 
himself assume the whole responsibility.
   The captain then called the men together and stated to them frankly the 
opinion of the guides. "The enterprise," said he, "is one of great importance.
Still it is possible that all may be lost in the lake by the breaking up of
the ice. And thus the country will be deprived of very choice troops without
obtaining any service in return."
   The soldiers were then sailed upon the express their opinion. These heroic
men, with one voice, replied: "We are ready to go wherever you are ready to
lead us. We leave the decision with you."
   Very wisely the ill-judged expedition was abandoned. They directed their
steps as rapidly as possible towards the land. They were confirmed in the 
wisdom of their decision by seeing before they reached the shore in the 
distance the dashing billows of the lake. General Harrison met them at the 
point of landing and escorted them in safety back to Fort Meigs.
   General Harrison was very anxious to regain Detroit, whose surrender was
deemed an indelible disgrace to our arms. But he was disappointed in the
re-enforcements which he had expected to receive. In addition to this his force
was considerably diminished by the expiration of the term of service of many 
of the troops under his command. Thus he was virtually shut up in Fort Meigs, 
and compelled to act only on the defensive.
   Early in the Spring, the British officer, General Proctor, with three
thousand two hundred men, eighteen hundred of whom were Indians, laid seige
to Fort Meigs. The Indians were under the command of Tecumseh. Proctor had so
large a force that he felt confident that the fort would be compelled immediately
to surrender as soon as his troops should appear beneath its walls. He 
thought that General Harrison would imitate the example of General Hull. He 
had also promised Tecumseh that General Harrison should be delivered up to 
him as his captive.
   Early in the afternoon of the 26th of April, as several of the officers of
the fort were conversing together on the parade, they saw two strangers, 
finely mounted, riding along the bank on the opposite side of the river. As 
it was a very unusual thing to see travelers in that wild country, and as 
it was manifest that they were very carefully surveying the works, it was
inferred that they were spies. One of the guns was immediately brought to 
bear upon them, and a shot was sent whistling through the air, which tore up
the earth at their feet. They immediately spurred their horses to flight. It
subsequently appeared that the two visitors were the British General Proctor
and the Chief Tecumseh.
   The garrison was immediately employed in preparing for an attack. The tents
within the fort were struck and subterranean caves were dug for lodgings; for
it was known that Proctor could bring to the assault heavy siege guns, and
that he could throw down a shower of bomb-shells upon them. The fort was 
surrounded with an embankment twelve feet high, upon a basis of twenty feet.
A British officer who accompanied Proctor's army gives the following account
of its organization:
   "General Proctor ordered an expedition to be in readiness to move for the
Maumee. Accordingly, towards the close of April, a detachment of the forty-first, 
some militia, and fifteen hundred Indians, accompanied by a train of battering
artillery, and attended by two gunboats, proceeded up that river and established
themselves on the right bank, at the distance of a mile, and selected a site
for our batteries. The season was unusually wet. Yet in defiance of every
obstacle the batteries were erected the same sight in front of the American
fortress, and the guns transported along the road, in which the axle-trees of 
the carriages were frequently buried in mud. Among other battering pieces were
twenty-four pounders, in the transportation of which two hundred men, with
several oxen were employed from nine o'clock at night until daylight in the 
morning.
   "At length, every precaution having been made, a gun fired from one of the
boats was the signal for their opening. Early on the morning of the first of
May a heavy fire was commenced and continued for four days without intermission,
during which period every one of the enemy's batteries were silenced and 
dismantled. The fire of the twenty-four-pound battery was principally directed
against the powder magazine which the besieged were busily occupied in
covering and protecting from our hot shot. It was impossible to have artillery
better served. Every shot that was fired sank into the roof of the magazine,
scattering the earth to a considerable distance, and burying many of the
workmen in its bed, from which we could distinctly see their survivors dragging
forth the bodies of their slaughtered companions. Meanwhile the flank companies
of the forty-first, with a few Indians, had been dispatched to the opposite
shore, and had constructed a battery within a few hundred yards of the enemy's
works, from which a galling cross-fire was sustained."
   The Indians climbed the trees and poured into the fort a galling fire, 
which greatly annoyed the garrison. They beset the fort on nearly every side.
About eighty were killed and many more wounded. Many of the balls thrown from
the British batteries were red hot. Wherever they struck they raised a cloud
of vapor from the damp soil, with a great hissing. For three days their
batteries kept up an incessant shower of balls and shells. On the most active
day of the investment five hundred cannon balls and bombs were thrown into
the fort. As General Harrison was in want of supplies, he offered a reward
for every cannon ball which should be delivered to the magazine keeper. Over
a thousand were brought in.
   A heavy rain came on and so deluged the caves that they could not be occupied.
The men then had to sleep in the tents. Every now and then the startling cry
of "bomb, bomb," would rouse them from their slumbers. They would then rush
from their tents and watch the fiery messenger of death as it took its flight
through the midnight sky. As it fell they would fall flat upon their faces, 
for, unless the shell burst in the air it would penetrate the earth quite
deeply, and then exploding, would throw its fragments in an angular direction.
The soldiers would then return to their tents, only to be aroused again and
again by the startling cry. So harrowing was this, and so accustomed did the
men become to the danger, and so overpowering was the desire for sleep, that
many of the soldiers, while conscious that the bomb might fall directly upon
the tent where they were sleeping, remained undisturbed, determined, as one
of them said, "to enjoy his sleep if ten thousand bombs should burst around 
him."
   General Proctor now deeming the situation of the fort utterly desparate, 
for it was garrisoned by but about five hundred men, sent a summons for its
surrender, stating that he had with him a larger number of Indians then had 
ever before been embodied, and that his army was so strong that the garrison
could not hold out against it. General Harrison replied:
   "I believe that I have a very correct idea of General Proctor's force. It 
is not such as to create the least apprehension for the result of the contest.
Assure the general, however, that he will never have this post 'surrendered'
to him upon any terms. Should it fall into his hands, it will be in a manner
calculated to do him more honor, and to give him larger claims upon the 
gratitude of his government than any capitulation could possibly do."
   Governor Harrison having anticipated this attack sent a messenger to both
the governors of Ohio and Kentucky, soliciting reinforcements for the relief
of the fort. A young man noted for his bravery, Captain William Oliver, undertook
this perilous commission. Threading the wilderness he delivered the message, 
to which both of the governors responded with alacrity. Upon his return he
found the fort closely invested by the Indians under Tecumseh. Still, in the
darkness of the night, he eluded all their vigilance, and entering the fort
at midnight of the fourth of May, brought the joyful intelligence that General
Green Clay, with twelve hundred Kentuckians, was descending the Maumee River
in boats; that they were just above the rapids, and would probably be at the
fort within two or three hours.
   General Harrison immediately sent back word to General Clay to land eight
hundred of his men on the right bank of the river opposite the fort, near
where the British batteries stood, to spike their cannon, and then "immediately
to return to their boats and cross to the fort." These batteries were manned
only by the gunners. But they were protected by nearly two thousand soldiers, 
British and Indians, who were encamped about a mile back from them. General
Harrison was therefore emphatic in his direction that "immediately after 
spiking the cannon they should hasten across the river to the fort", before
the enemy should have time to march upon them with a crushing force.
   The remaining four hundred men were to be landed on the left bank of the
river, and to fight their way through the investing force to the fort, while
a strong band would sally forth from the garrison to assist them. The 
arrangements were admirable. Had General Harrison's directions been followed
they would have been eminently successful. To make all things sure he sent a
very reliable man, Captain Hamilton, in a large canoe, called a pirogue, to 
ascend the river and land a guide, who should conduct the division of four
hundred men to the fort. He was then to take the lead of the boats with the
eight hundred men, and land his canoe at the spot where they were to leap
upon the shore and spike the guns.