Narrative of the Suffering & Defeat of the North-Western Army, Under General Winchester / Massacre of the Prisoners; Sixteen Months Imprisonment of the Writer and Others with the Indians and British

[Transcriber's note: all misspellings and typographical errors in the original have been retained in this text.]

NARRATIVE

OF THE

SUFFERING & DEFEAT

OF THE

NORTH-WESTERN ARMY

UNDER GENERAL WINCHESTER:

MASSACRE OF THE PRISONERS; SIXTEEN MONTHS IMPRISONMENT OF THE WRITER AND OTHERS WITH THE INDIANS AND BRITISH:

BY WILLIAM ATHERTON.

FRANKFORT, KY. Printed for the author by A. G. Hodges. 1842.

[Copy Right secured according to law.]

PREFACE.

The greater part of this short narrative was written years ago. At that time it was intended for publication. But for several years past the writer had declined ever letting it come before the world; and had it not been for the solicitations of friends, it is highly probable this intention would never have been changed. But relying upon the opinion of those whom he believed to be well qualified to judge of it, and believing them to be sincere in their expression of opinion, I have consented to let it go and take its chance before the public.

It was found difficult to give such an account of that part of the campaign which it was thought to be most important, without commencing as far back as the departure of the army from Kentucky. This part of the history has, however, been passed over very rapidly, perhaps rather too much so to make it at all satisfactory. The writer is aware that he has omitted much which would have added to the interest of this little history; but he has not leisure to go over it again. History has given us an account of the sufferings of the North-Western Army only in general terms, but no where, so far as I have been able to learn, has there been given a particular detail of the sufferings and privations of that detachment of the army.

I think it proper that the rising generation should know what their fathers suffered, and how they acted in the hour of danger; that they sustained the double character of "Americans and Kentuckians." This narrative has been made as concise as I could conveniently make it, and on that account, perhaps, the writer has not said all that might, and that should have been said. But it is hoped that what has been said will be sufficient to give the youthful reader some idea of what that "Spartan band" were called to endure. To the old men of our country these things, perhaps, will not be new.

With regard to the massacre at Raisin, the writer has related nothing but what he saw. What is said in reference to the brave Hart and Hickman, he witnessed with his own eyes.

It may be thought that I have been a little too severe in what I have said of British officers. Should any think so, all I have to say is, had they seen and felt what we did there would have been no difference of opinion. By some it will be thought strange to find the savages, in point of feeling and humanity, placed above the British—but the truth ought always to be told.

One thing the writer regrets, and that is his being compelled so frequently to speak of himself. But he found it impossible to give a full narration without it. Nothing is aimed at but a plain unvarnished statement of facts, a sober description of scenes, in the principal part of which the writer himself was an actor.

NARRATIVE.

The volunteers from Kentucky, under the command of Colonels Allen, Lewis and Scott, left their homes on the 12th of August, 1812, and rendezvoused at Georgetown. Thence took the Dry Ridge road to Cincinnati, where we remained a few days. We then pursued our march through the State of Ohio, by the way of Piqua; from which place we were called to the relief of Fort Wayne.

Nothing worthy of public notice occurred on the way, except the alarm we had at the camp we called "Fighton," which every soldier that was on the ground no doubt recollects. Though we were alarmed at Piqua, by one of the sentinels shooting at a horse, yet we had seen nothing such as occurred here. It was a dark rainy night, just such a time as the Indians would choose to make an attack. We anticipated danger, and made arrangements to meet it. The army encamped in a hollow square, within a strong breastwork, and guards were placed at every point. Whether there were Indians about or not, some of the guard thought they heard them, and many guns were fired on post, and all the camp called to arms. The line of battle was more than once formed during the night, and at one time kept under arms an hour and a half. As this was the the first campaign with most of us, and also the first alarm worthy of notice, it is not easy to imagine the degree of excitement produced throughout the camp. It fell to my lot to be on guard that night, and at the time of the greatest alarm was on post; the guard was not relieved for near an hour after their time had expired—an attack being momently expected.

When we arrived at Fort Wayne, we found that the Indians which had annoyed the fort for some time, had retreated. We were then ordered to march to two Indian towns, for the purpose of burning the houses and destroying their corn. When we had accomplished this, and returned to Fort Wayne, we there met the Kentucky mounted volunteers under the command of Colonel Simrall. We marched from Fort Wayne on the 22d of September, and pursued Wayne's route down the Miami towards old Fort Defiance, where we arrived on the 30th. During the latter part of this march we were frequently annoyed by the enemy. Our advance party of spies fell in with a body of Indians, and a small skirmish ensued, in which one of the spies was slightly wounded, and several of the enemy killed; the exact number could not be ascertained, as the Indians always carry off their dead when practicable. The day before, Ensign Liggett, of the regulars, with four men, was pursued by this body of Indians, massacred and scalped. The loss of Ensign Liggett was much lamented, as he was a promising young officer, remarkable for bravery and intrepidity. He had left the company of spies, with his four companions, to examine the country around Fort Defiance, and had advanced several miles ahead of the party—where they were killed. Many of Ensign Liggett's friends are still living in Kentucky.

The annoyance from the enemy greatly retarded our movements, as it was impossible, with any degree of certainty, to ascertain either their situation or force. In crossing the river, however, their whole movements were discovered. The British, with their artillery from Detroit, and a large party of Indians, were progressing towards Fort Wayne. After engaging our spies, and annoying our advanced guard, they faced to the right about and retreated precipitately. Owing to the situation of the army (being short of provisions) it was impossible, by forced marches, to intercept them. At this time Captain Bland Ballard showed his skill in Indian fighting, by making good his retreat, for which he deserves much. His Lieutenant, Munday, who had parted with him in the morning, also effected a retreat, by charging upon the Indians, before they ascertained his numbers, and then dashing into camp. The next day our spies had an action—had one wounded—and saw several Indians fall. The day following the Indians showed in front of the spies, and snapped at one of our men—a fire was returned, which left blood where the Indians stood. The Indian spies were on horse back, which rendered it difficult to ascertain their situation. Our spies could not, with propriety, venture far from us, and we could not advance until the country was reconnoitered, consequently our march was slow. A short turn to the right, however, and crossing the river at an unexpected place, gave us the advantage. After crossing the river we saw that the enemy had artillery, and were ahead of us. We were now within six miles of Defiance. It was very bushy for more than a mile before we approached the fort. The army remained at camp that morning, and sent out spies in every direction; when they returned, they reported that the enemy had gone off down the river. It was then deemed inexpedient to move so late in the afternoon. It was supposed there were from one to two hundred British, with from two to five pieces of cannon, and from four to six hundred Indians. The artillery was certainly brought up by water to this place, and reembarked here again. Their object must have been Fort Wayne. By this time we became very scarce of provisions, having nothing for some days but the poorest beef. Some of the men began to murmer—and some went so far as to talk of returning home—but when this was known by the officers, measures were taken to put a stop to it. Colonel Allen, in an animated and encouraging address to his men, banished the idea of shrinking in the day of adversity. Captain Simpson, also, was not unemployed. This was the first time we had sensibly felt the want of bread.

General Harrison returned to the army on the second of October. We were greatly animated at seeing him among us once more. He addressed the whole army in a most thrilling speech, which kindled in the breasts of the men, generally, an increased desire to meet the enemy, and a willingness to endure any privations they might be called to suffer. He remained with us but a short time.

The enemy having retreated before us in every direction, leaving us an extensive territory to occupy; our object then was to establish a chain of fortified posts, in order to facilitate the supplies necessary for a speedy invasion of Upper Canada. Notwithstanding we were in the enemy's country, where Indian spies were seen almost every day, yet it was impossible to keep the men from imprudently hazarding their lives! Shortly after our arrival at Fort Defiance, five of our men, who had been out gathering plums, were found scalped. About this time Captain Garrard's troop of horse, and another company, met a scouting party of Indians and routed them. One of our militia was killed and another wounded. In consequence of this information, General Harrison marched the whole of his army from St. Mary's to Defiance. General Harrison had heard from General Kelso, who commanded a detachment of troops on lake Erie, that two thousand Indians and some regulars with several pieces of artillery, had left Malden on an expedition against Fort Wayne! This news, with other exaggerated accounts, induced the belief that General Winchester was likely to be defeated. As before stated, all the forces at St. Mary's were put in motion, but before they reached Defiance information of the enemy's retreat was received.

Before General Harrison left Defiance, he selected a situation for a new fort. A party of men was detailed to procure timber for the buildings. General Winchester, also, moved his camp from the Miami to the Auglaize river.

The command of the left was now confided to General Winchester, who was instructed to occupy the rapids as soon as possible for the purpose of securing a quantity of corn which had been raised by the inhabitants.

Before General Harrison left, he ordered General Tupper to take all his mounted men and proceed down the Miami as far as the Rapids. When this order was issued, General Tupper's command was immediately supplied with provision for eight days, which included all the flour in camp. About 12 o'clock next day a party of Indians fired on the men immediately on the opposite bank of the Miami, one of whom they killed, scalped, and then fled! This, for a moment, produced alarm, and the troops were formed in order of battle. Presently small parties of horsemen began to cross the river in pursuit of the enemy. The horses were mostly at grass, and as soon as they could be caught the owners engaged in the pursuit. Eight or ten parties went, mostly from Colonel Simrall's regiment, in one of which was the Colonel himself. General Tupper ordered that no more should cross, apprehending from the boldness of the Indians that a large body might be lying in ambush. General Winchester now ordered Tupper to commence his expedition towards the Rapids by pursuing these Indians. Tupper had previously sent Logan and six other Indians to reconnoiter, and did not seem willing to go until they returned. They arrived in the evening, stating that they had seen a party of Indians, about fifty strong, ten miles down the river. Colonel Allen now offered his services to accompany Tupper to the Rapids in any station he thought proper to place him, from a private soldier upwards. He accepted his offer, and caused him to be announced as his aid. General Winchester issued positive orders that General Tupper should proceed; but he declined, saying he would prefer going by the Ottoway towns, &c. At this time about three hundred of the mounted riflemen, whose terms of service had expired, left the camp and returned home. Colonel Simrall, believing that the orders of General Winchester to General Tupper would not be executed, returned to the settlements to recruit his horses and be in readiness to march when his services should be necessary. It will be sufficient to say this expedition at this time failed. After the mounted men left us, nothing of importance occurred for some time. We were engaged building the fort, which, through much difficulty, was at length completed. This will appear, when it is known that at that place we had not our full rations. That this fact may be established, I will give some extracts from a letter, written at the time, by James Garrard, Brigade Inspector: "We have not" says he "drawn a full ration since the 8th September. Sometimes without beef—at other times without flour: and the worst of all, entirely without salt, which has been much against the health of the men. They bear it with much patience, although they have been without salt for five or six days." At this time the sick amounted to two hundred and sixteen men, and there was some dissatisfaction in the army against the government because the necessary supplies were not sent on. But when they became acquainted with the true cause of the deficiency, that the fault was not in the government, but in the change of affairs since their march, they were perfectly satisfied. Again Mr. Garrard states: "You would be surprised to see the men appear on the brigade parade. Some without shoes, others without socks, blankets, &c. All the clothes they have are linen; but they discharge their duty with cheerfulness, hoping that their country will supply their wants before the severity of winter comes on." There are many who can testify to the truth of the above. What clothes we took with us when we left our homes had worn very thin. Many left home with their linen hunting shirts, and some of these were literally torn to rags by the brush. We had heard that General Harrison had made a powerful appeal to the ladies of Kentucky and Ohio, and we were sure it would not be in vain; and about this time we learned that the ladies of Kentucky were exerting themselves to relieve the soldiers of this army. It was highly gratifying to us to know that we were kept in remembrance by the ladies of our own State.

Near this time our spies brought in a prisoner. They took him about thirty miles below Fort Winchester. He called himself William Walker; had been with the Indians near thirty years, and was married to a Wyandott squaw; he said at that time he lived at Detroit. He was recognized by several in camp, and two men said, "when Detroit was taken, under General Hull, he was painted like an Indian, and was seen out of the fort," but they did not recollect any act of hostility on his part. His story was, that he persuaded the Indians to abandon the British; that in the end we would ruin them, &c. That for this he was put into the guard-house at Detroit, and told his conduct was criminal, and consequently would be sent where he would be kept safely; that he made his escape from the guard-house—lay concealed a few days until he was ready—and then started to join us. The general belief was he came as a spy. He seemed intimately acquainted with the Indian movements, but the officers were afraid to place any reliance upon his statements. He gave us a description of the force we met near Defiance on their way to Fort Wayne. He estimated their number at about nine hundred Indians and British altogether, with two brass field pieces; that the afternoon on which we crossed the Miami, they were at Fort Defiance, which was only six miles from where we crossed the river, and that they started early next morning towards the Rapids. From him we learned that McCoy of Georgetown, whom we supposed was murdered, had been taken prisoner. Upon being asked if any prisoners had been taken, he replied one—a Quarter Master Sergeant. McCoy filled that place.

We now began preparations to march towards the Rapids—having completed a new and beautiful fort, situated near the old one, which, like its brave progenitor, had fallen before the irresistible hand of time. We crossed the Miami, and camped a few miles below Defiance. During the time of our encampment we were called to witness a very solemn transaction. A young man was found sleeping on post—he was arraigned and sentenced to be shot. When the time appointed for his execution arrived, the army was paraded—the prisoner was brought to the spot—a bandage placed over his eyes—and directed to prepare to meet death. A platoon was ordered to take their stand a few paces in front of the lines, ready to fire when the word should be given. A deep silence now reigned throughout the army—every eye was fixed upon the criminal, standing upon his knees blindfolded—the officer commanding the platoon waiting to hear and give the word which would hurry a fellow soldier into eternity. During this moment of suspense a messenger came from the General bearing a reprieve. This circumstance made a deep impression upon the whole army. It was found necessary, also, to make an example of one who had deserted. His sentence was to ride the wooden horse; which was made by bending a sapling until the top reached the ground—this he did in the presence of the whole army.

Very few Indians were seen or heard of for some weeks, neither had any mischief been done, though the men were very careless, and would hunt game and fruit far and near—often strolling miles from the camp without guns. The ground on this side of the river, where we first encamped, being disagreeable, we marched a few miles down the river, remained a short time, and then removed to what is called camp No. 3. There we had a beautiful situation, and an abundance of fine timber.

Although the enemy had now retreated and left us in possession of the Territory, we were still called to contend with the severe weather, which not only prevented the necessary supply of provisions from reaching us, but in our thinly clad condition became very oppressive. We knew that efforts were making to supply us with clothes and rations, but the roads were almost impassable. About the first of November the men became very sickly—the typhus fever raged with violence—three or four would sometimes die in a day. It is said upwards of three hundred was on the sick list at one time.

Towards the latter part of November, or first of December, the rain fell in torrents. We were ordered to build huts, for to advance at that time appeared impossible. Many were so entirely destitute of shoes and other clothing, that had they been compelled to march any distance they must have frozen. What we suffered at Defiance was but the beginning of affliction. We now saw nothing but hunger, and cold, and nakedness, staring us in the face. At one time, for several days, we scarcely had any thing to eat but some poor beef. I have seen the butchers go to a beef and kill it, when lying down and could not get out of the way. This kind of beef, and hickory roots, was our principal subsistence for a length of time. When we had been here a few weeks, and the ground became covered with snow, and we no longer apprehended danger from the enemy, we were permitted to hunt. This we did to some extent, but in a short time there was not a squirrel to be found near the encampment.

During our stay at camp No. 3, a detachment was sent down the river to assist General Tupper. I was one of the number called out for that expedition; and a hard and fruitless one it was. Colonel Lewis commanded. We marched until about nine o'clock at night. Colonel C. S. Todd, with some others, was sent on to Tupper's encampment to make some discoveries, and when the arrived at the spot they found that Tupper had retreated, and one of his men left dead in the camp! This information was brought to Colonel Lewis, and after a council with his officers, he considered it prudent to return. He thought if it were necessary for Tupper, with six hundred and fifty men, to retreat, and the river too between him and the enemy, he could not be justified in meeting it on the same side with three hundred and eighty. It was stated, but I would not vouch for the truth of it, that he left the Rapids a few hours after he sent the express to our camp, without notifying our detachment at all.

Early next morning we commenced our retreat, but from the fatigues of the previous day, and want of rest that night, (for we had no fire,) the most of us were unable to reach the army that day, but were obliged to camp about five miles below. This was a night of keen suspense to myself, and no doubt many others. We had grounds to believe the Indians would pursue us with perhaps double our number, and surprise us in the night; but we reached the camp in safety next morning.

Our Indian spies made frequent excursions in different directions, but their reports were not generally satisfactory. Logan, one of the finest looking Indians I ever saw, was one of them, and perhaps the only honest man among them, finding that they were suspected either of cowardice or treachery, determined on another expedition to the Rapids. But before leaving, expressed his grief at the stain cast upon his character—declaring at the same time that something should be done before his return that should convince all concerned of his bravery and friendship to the Government of the United States. Old Captain John, and Lightfoot, if I mistake not, accompanied him. They had not reached the Rapids before they fell in with the spies of the British—a company of Indians superior to their own, commanded by a young British officer: they managed the affair with great dexterity. Logan, who was a man of great presence of mind, finding, upon first sight of the enemy, a retreat to be impracticable, instantly proposed to his comrades to approach them in the character of friends, and report themselves as deserters from camp No. 3. Though they had but a very few moments, yet Logan fixed upon the signal, and concerted the plan of escape. They met—Logan made his statement, which was received cautiously, but so far as to prevent immediate hostilities. They were permitted to keep their arms, but ordered to march in front, a plain indication that they were suspected.

As the object of this band of British spies was to gain information in reference to the army at camp No. 3, they considered their object accomplished, and therefore returned from this place. A conversation soon commenced respecting the condition, number, and intentions of the army, &c., &c., during which time Logan and his two companions were watching their opportunity to make the attack. Although they doubled their number, yet they determined to rescue themselves or die. The signal was given, and each man brought his man to the ground. This left their power about equal. The enemy fled a little distance, and opened a fire upon them, which they returned with the arms of those they had shot; but finding a retreat now practicable, Logan ordered it, but in mounting one of the horses of the enemy, received a ball in his breast which ranged down to the small of his back; but, notwithstanding, succeeded in reaching the camp that night, a distance of about thirty miles. Old Captain John would not leave the spot until he had taken a scalp, which he brought to camp with him. Every effort was made by the physicians to save the life of this brave and daring man, but all in vain. I saw him a few hours before his death. He died like a soldier. But before his death, was heard to say—"I suppose this will be taken as evidence of my bravery, and I shall be no longer suspected as a traitor."

His death was greatly lamented, and his loss severely felt—and the circumstances taken altogether, rendered the case exceedingly affecting, especially to some of the officers.

One of the most extraordinary characters in all the army, was an old man by the name of Ruddle who acted as a spy; this man made many excursions alone, and would remain for several days together, almost in the heart of the enemy; and perhaps advanced farther to discover the movements of the British and Indians, than even our Indian spies. During the stay at camp No. 3, the most of the information that could be relied upon, respecting the supplies which it was expected we should find in the fields at the Rapids, came through Ruddle. Such dauntless courage is not often found. To look at him you would think him touched off a little with the Potawatamie. He was well acquainted with the Indian mode of warfare; and, if I mistake not, had once been a prisoner among them.

Soon after this the river was frozen so as to bear us across. This enlarged our hunting ground, for now we were suffering greatly for provisions. At one time, for eleven days, we had nothing but pork, just killed, without salt. These privations were submitted to with astonishing patience—there was scarcely a whisper or a murmur in all the camp—which manifested a patriotism worthy the cause in which they were engaged. On the 22d of December we were informed, by general order, that we should have flour that day, and that the prospect was fair for a constant supply.

The 24th was the period set for our stay at camp No. 3, which was pleasing intelligence to the whole army. On the 25th, at sunrise, we were commanded to march to the Rapids. Being the vanguard of the North-Western Army, General Harrison instructed us to make a stand there until we should be joined by the North-Western Army. For some time previous we had been engaged in making sleds to haul our baggage, some of which had to be drawn by the soldiers themselves.

A more pleasant and expeditious march than this had been anticipated, for after much fatigue and labor, a great number of canoes had been made, with which we expected our baggage would be taken with great ease and safety down the river; but to our great disappointment, before we could make preparations, or before our provisions reached us—without which we could not move—cold weather set in, and closed up the river. This circumstance at first seemed to present an obstacle insurmountable; many of the men were sick, and that sickness occasioned by being compelled to eat fresh pork without bread or salt, and from being exposed to cold and wet.

But this was not the only difficulty. Many who had not been so provident, perhaps, as the case required, were bare of clothes, and almost barefooted, and were ill prepared to undertake such a march through the snow.

Thus, ill clad, worn down by fatigue and starvation, and chilled by the cold wintry blasts of the north we were compelled to brave—there was no alternative—our condition made it necessary for us to fall upon some other plan to reach the Rapids, where we expected to meet supplies. Under the impulse of this hope we went to work and made sleds sufficient to carry the baggage. But as these were not sufficient to take the sick, many of them had to be left behind. On the 25th, as above stated, we bid adieu to this memorable place, camp No. 3, where lie the bones of many a brave man. This place will live in the recollection of all who suffered there, and for more reasons than one. There comes up before the mind the many times the dead march was heard in the camp, and the solemn processsion that carried our fellow sufferers to the grave—the many times we were almost on the point of starvation—and the many sickening disappointments which were experienced by the army from day to day, and from week to week, by the failure of promised supplies, which were daily expected: and, also, that here we parted with the sick, some of whom we were to see no more.

Thus poorly equipped, deeply affected, and yet overjoyed, we took up the line of march. The reader may ask how such a number of sleds could be drawn, seeing there was not a supply of horses. Some of them were drawn by the men themselves—five men were hitched to a sleigh, and, through snow and water, dragged them on at the rate of about ten miles a day. But to our great disadvantage during our march, there was an immense fall of snow. It seemed that the very elements fought against us. But notwithstanding all, we moved slowly on towards the destined point. What the men suffered by day, was comparatively nothing to what they experienced by night. The reader can form but a faint idea unless he had been on the spot, and had seen and felt what we saw and felt. Some time was required to arrange the encampment, during which time the men were compelled to keep their places in the lines, and thus become so chilled as to be almost unfit for the necessary exertion of preparing a resting place for themselves. The snow, which was about knee deep, had first to be cleared away, then fire to be struck with flint and steel, and when no lynn bark could be had, brush was substituted in its place, which formed our bed. Hard and uncomfortable as it was, yet such was our fatigue that we generally slept soundly. To give a detailed account of individual suffering during this march, from camp No. 3 to the Rapids, would swell this sketch beyond its intended limits; and perhaps facts would be related which the present generation, who have but little knowledge of these things only from report, would scarcely believe.

Our little vehicles being made upon a small scale, were too light to carry the burden put upon them, and not sufficiently high to cross the little streams which lay in our way, consequently much damage was done to our baggage, and our provisions (which were barely sufficient to last us to the Rapids,) was much injured by getting wet. This, it will be plainly seen, was well calculated to increase our sufferings. In fact, the half of what was endured on this slow and painful march has never yet been published to the world, and perhaps never will.

"While on our march, General Winchester received another despatch from the commander-in-chief, recommending him to abandon the movement towards the Rapids, and fall back with the greater part of his force to Fort Jennings. This advice was given in consequence of some intelligence received from Colonel Campbell, at Massiniway, respecting the force of Tecumseh on the Wabash. General Harrison was apprehensive if the left wing advanced so far as the Rapids, Tecumseh would be able to attack and destroy all the provisions in the rear." Winchester had already commenced his march, and did not wish to discontinue and return.

At length, on the 10th of January, we arrived at the Rapids. General Winchester had previously sent forward a detachment of six hundred and seventy men, under General Payne, to attack a body of Indians which General Harrison had been informed was lying in an old fortification at Swan creek, a few miles farther down the river. After passing several miles below the old fort, and discovering no appearance of Indians, the whole returned to the position which the army intended to occupy.

About this time the clothes which were sent by the patriotic sons and daughters of Kentucky, began to reach the army. The gratitude of the troops generally was beyond expression. Some had withstood the keen blasts of that cold northern country, until some time in January, with linen hunting shirts and pantaloons, and many almost without either shoes or socks. General Payne in a letter to Governor Shelby, in which he expresses his gratitude, as well as that of the troops, says—"As an earnest of her disposition to aid the National Government, Kentucky, at an early period, with a characteristic ardour, sent forth more than her quota required by the Government; and whilst a spark of genuine feeling animates the breasts of her volunteers in the North-Western Army, they can never cease to feel a lively gratitude for the further earnest of her anxiety for the cause, manifested in the late abundant supply of clothing." It certainly was a source of heartfelt satisfaction, to express a proper sense of the obligations under which the patriotism of the sons of Kentucky had placed her volunteers; but the pleasure was greatly heightened when we reflected that to the daughters of Kentucky we were mostly indebted for imperious supplies to meet the blasts of a northern winter.

I hope it is not still too late (though many who engaged in that laudable work have gone from this scene of war and bloodshed,) for me to express my unfeigned gratitude to the daughters of my native State for the blessings bestowed on me as an individual; and as I have never had an opportunity before to express myself, permit me further to say, that these favors, while I possess a spark of feeling, shall never cease to produce a lively sense of gratitude. Help, in real need, is not forgotten.

"On the day of our arrival a recent Indian camp was discovered about one half mile from us. Captain Williams was immediately despatched, with twenty five men, to pursue the Indians. He very soon overtook and routed them. A few shots were exchanged, by which some on both sides were wounded."

A large storehouse was immediately commenced for the purpose of securing the provisions and baggage. We found a quantity of corn in the fields, which was soon gathered; and before any machinery was prepared to pound and sift it, a quantity was boiled whole, and eaten without even salt. But we quickly arranged to have it made into hommony, and after the hogs came, we fared well upon "hog and hommony." You may judge of our relish for our food, when I tell you that one of our company, whose name I will not give, eat so much corn that he appeared to be actually foundered, and unable to walk for more than a week.

On the evening of the thirteenth, two Frenchmen arrived from the river Raisin with information that the Indians routed by Captain Williams had passed that place on their way to Malden, carrying with them intelligence of our advance. They said the Indians had threatened to kill their inhabitants and burn their town, and begged for protection from the American arms. They were charged with a despatch from Mr. Day, a citizen who was friendly to our cause, and who stated that the British were seizing all suspected persons at the river "Raisin," and confining them at Malden prison, and were preparing to carry off all provisions of every description. On the fourteenth another messenger arrived, and on the sixteenth two more came in. They all confirmed the news brought by the first, and solicited protection, as they were afraid the people would be massacred and the town burned by the Indians whenever our army should advance upon them. They stated the present force of the enemy to be two companies of Canadians, and about two hundred Indians, but that more Indians might be expected to assemble. The greatest anxiety now prevailed in our army to advance in force sufficient to defeat the enemy at that place. A council of officers was called by the General, a majority of whom were decidedly in favor of sending a strong detachment—Colonel Allen supported that side of the question with ardour.

On the morning of the seventeenth, Colonel Lewis, with five hundred and fifty men, took up their line of march for the "river Raisin." The same day Colonel Allen followed with one hundred and ten more, who came up with Lewis late in the evening, where he was encamped at Presque Isle, Early on the morning of the same day General Winchester prepared a despatch to inform General Harrison of this movement. He stated that his principal object was to prevent the flour and grain from being carried off by the enemy; that if he got possession of Frenchtown he intended to hold it, and that a co-operating reinforcement from the right wing might be necessary.

Before the express had started with this letter, information was received from Colonel Lewis at Presque Isle, a distance of twenty miles in advance, that there were four hundred Indians at the river Raisin, and that Colonel Elliott was expected from Malden, with a detachment to attack the camp at the Rapids. Colonel Lewis set out very early next morning, intending, if possible, to anticipate Colonel Elliott at Frenchtown. That village lies midway between Presque Isle and Malden, the distance to each being eighteen miles. The most of our march was on the ice on Miami bay, and the borders of lake Erie. When we had arrived within a few miles of the river Raisin we were discovered by some Indians, who hastened to give the alarm to the main body of the enemy. Before we left the border of the lake, a halt was called to take some refreshment. Having resumed our march, a piece of timbered land was passed through, and as the troops proceeded in the open plain they were formed into three lines, each corps being in the proper place for action. The right was commanded by Colonel Allen, and was composed of the companies of Captains McCracken, Bledsoe, and Matson. I was in Captain Bledsoe's company during this expedition. The left wing was commanded by Major Graves, and was composed of the companies of Hamilton, Williams, and Kelly. The centre consisted of the companies of Hightower, Collier, and Sabree, and was commanded by Major Madison. The advance guard consisted of the companies of Captains Hickman, Graves, and Jones, under the command of Captain Ballard, acting as Major.

When we arrived within a quarter of a mile of the village, and discovered the enemy in motion, the line of battle was formed— expecting an immediate attack—but it was soon perceived the enemy did not intend to risk a combat in the open field. The detachment broke off by the right of companies and marched under the fire of the enemy's cannon until we arrived on the river. We succeeded well in crossing, though the ice in many places was very slippery. Having crossed, instantly the long roll was beat (the signal for a general charge.) Majors Graves and Madison were ordered to possess themselves of the houses and picketing, about which the enemy had collected, and where they had placed their cannon. This order was promptly executed, and both battalions advanced under an incessant shower of bullets; neither the picketing nor fencing over which they passed retarded their progress or success, for the enemy in that quarter was dislodged.—meantime, Colonel Allen fell in with them a considerable distance to the right, when, after pursuing them to the woods, they made a stand with their howitzer and small arms, covered by a chain of inclosed lots and a group of houses, having in their rear a thick brushy wood filled with fallen timber. Orders were now given through Major Garrard to Majors Graves and Madison to possess themselves of the woods on the left, and move up towards the main body of the enemy as fast as practicable, and divert their attention from Colonel Allen. At the moment the fire commenced with the battalions, the right wing advanced, and the enemy was soon driven from the fencing and houses, and our troops began to enter the woods in close pursuit. The fight now became very close, and extremely hot on the right wing—the enemy concentrating the chief of their forces of both kinds to force the lines, but still kept moving in a retreat, although slowly, for we were much exhausted. The joint exertions of Graves, Madison, and Allen, were successful in completely routing the enemy. The distance they retreated before us was not less than two miles, and every foot of the way under charge. The battle lasted from three o'clock until dark! The detachment was then drawn off in good order, and encamped upon the ground the enemy first occupied. About the going down of the sun, I received a wound in my right shoulder. A moment before I received the shot, I saw John Locke and Joseph Simpson advancing together, some distance to the left, and ahead of the main body. One was killed and the other wounded not far from the spot where I last saw them.

"The gallant conduct," says Colonel Lewis, "of Colonel Allen during every charge of this warmly contested action, has raised for him no ordinary military merit. Majors Graves and Madison deserve high praise for their undeviating attention to orders, and the energy and despatch with which they executed them. Captain Blan B. Ballard also led the van with great skill and bravery." He further says: "I take this opportunity of tendering my most hearty thanks to Brigade Major Garrard, Captain Smith, and Adjutant McCuller, who acted as my aids, for the great support they gave me during the whole of the action. The company officers acted with great bravery." The Colonel closes by saying, "both officers and soldiers supported the double character of Americans and Kentuckians." It was impossible for us to ascertain the exact force of the enemy; but from the best information, there were about one hundred British and four hundred Indians. It was said Major Reynolds was present and commanded the whole. Their number killed we could not ascertain, and perhaps it is unknown to the Americans until the present time. From the number found on the field where the battle commenced, and from the blood and trails where they had dragged off their dead and wounded, the slaughter must have been considerable. One Indian and two Canadian militia were taken prisoners. So steady and composed were our men in the assaults, that while the enemy were killed or driven from their houses, not a woman or child was injured. Our loss was twelve killed and fifty five wounded. Joseph Simpson was the only man belonging to Captain Simpson's company that was killed in the first engagement. Very few of our men were killed or wounded until we reached the woods; here we fought under great disadvantages, not being acquainted with the ground, and most of us being unacquainted with the Indian mode of warfare. Thus our want of experience and eagerness to overtake the enemy, gave them a decided advantage over us. Their method was to retreat rapidly until they were out of sight, (which was soon the case in the brushy woods,) and while we were advancing they were preparing to give us another fire; so we were generally under the necessity of firing upon them as they were retreating. During the charge, I saw several of our brave boys lying upon the snow wallowing in the agonies of death. But none could stop even to help his brother, for our situation required the utmost exertion of every man as long as he could render any service.

It was sometime after dark before we reached the place from which we drove the enemy, where we encamped for the night, and where we were accommodated with all the necessaries of life, and every attention which our situation required. I cannot but speak a word in favor of our physicians: too much cannot be said in their praise for the prompt attention which they gave on that occasion. Though it was late before the houses were prepared, and other arrangements made for the accommodation of the wounded, yet every man had his wounds dressed before the surgeons took any rest. Their memory deserves to be perpetuated.

Immediately after the battle an express was sent to convey the news of our success to General Winchester, at whose camp he arrived before daylight; and from that place another was sent to communicate the intelligence to General Harrison.

Colonel Lewis was determined, if possible, to hold the place until a reinforcement could be sent on. We knew our situation was very critical, being only eighteen miles from Malden; yet it appeared to make scarcely any impression upon our minds, so long had we been in the region of the enemy, and so much had we suffered from cold, hunger, and fatigue. The fare was now so different to what we had been accustomed since we left the settlement in Ohio—and some of the troops were so much elated with having driven the enemy from their fortifications, and having taken possession of their provisions, &c.—that we almost seemed to forget that we had an enemy in the world.

On the evening of the nineteenth, General Winchester left the Rapids with two hundred and fifty men, which were all that could be spared from that post. He reached us on the night of the twentieth, and encamped in an open lot on the right of the former detachment. Colonel Lewis had encamped in a place where he was defended by garden pickets, which were sufficient to defend from an attack of small arms. Colonel Wells commanded the reinforcement; and to him the General named, but did not positively command, a breast-work for the protection of his camp. The General himself, established his quarters in a house upon the south side of the river; about three hundred yards from the camp.

On the 21st, a place was selected for the whole detachment to encamp, in good order, with a determination to fortify the next day. About sunset Colonel ——— solicited and obtained leave to return to the Rapids. On this day, certain information was obtained that the British were preparing for an attack, and that we might look for it in a very short time. A Frenchman came from Malden with information that a large force of British and Indians—which he supposed would number near three thousand—were about to march from that place shortly after he left it. But even this was not credited, or if believed, was little regarded by many of the troops! The most of the men acted as though they knew themselves to be perfectly secure; some wandering; about the town until a late hour at night! For myself, I can say, I felt little dread, though I had reason to believe that our situation was very perilous. I slept soundly until awaked by the startling cry of "to arms! to arms!" and the thundering of cannon and roar of small arms, and the more terific yelling of savages.

Major Madison and Colonel Lewis, together with most of the officers, had cautioned their men to be on their guard, and be prepared for an attack. Guards, as usual, were placed out; but as it was extremely cold, no picket guard was placed upon the road by which the enemy was expected to advance. At day-break, on the morning of the 22nd, just as the drum began to beat, three guns were fired by the sentinels; in an instant the men were at their posts. The British now began to open a heavy fire of cannon and small arms. They appeared mostly to direct their cannon to the house which contained the ammunition, and where the wounded officers lay. Every circumstance attending this awful scene, conspired to make it more alarming—the time and manner in which it was commenced—for they approached in the dark with profound silence—not a breath was heard until all was ready, then, sudden as a flash of powder, the bloody work began.

The first thing that presented itself to my sight, after awaking out of sleep and going to the window, was the fiery tail of a bombshell—and these came in quick succession. Just at this moment, the fire of small arms from both sides began. For a considerable time it was one continued roar. But I could, nevertheless, distinguish between the enemies guns and our own. The British regulars approached immediately in front of Colonel Lewis' detachment, but did not long remain within the reach of small arms, for a well directed fire from the pickets soon repulsed them, with the loss of a number of their soldiers whom they left upon the field. They would not have approached so near if they had known precisely our situation. They told me whilst I was at Detroit, that they thought we were encamped in the open field outside of the garden pickets; but as soon as it was light, and they discovered their mistake, they retreated. The yelling of the Indians appeared to be mostly on the right, though some was heard upon the left, but none in the centre.

The reinforcement which had arrived with General Winchester, and which was unprotected by any breastwork, after maintaining the conflict for a short time, was overpowered and fell back. Just at this time General Winchester came up and ordered the retreating troops to rally and form behind the second bank of the river, and inclining toward the centre, take refuge behind the picketing. These orders were probably not heard, and being hard pressed both by the British and Indians in front and on their right flank, they were completely thrown into confusion, and retreated in disorder over the river. A detachment which was sent from the pickets to reinforce the right wing, and a few others who supposed the whole army was ordered to retreat, joined in its flight. Those brave men, Colonels Allen and Lewis, both followed, hoping to assist in rallying the troops. An attempt was made to rally them on the south side of the river, behind the houses and garden pickets, but all in vain; the Indians had taken possession of the woods behind them, and thus completely cut off their retreat, and no alternative now remained but to stand and fight a superior force, which was every moment accumulating, and which had every advantage, or to retreat to better ground. In their dismay and confusion they attempted to pass a narrow lane—the Indians were on both sides, and shot them in every direction. A large party which had gained the woods on the right, were surrounded and massacred without distinction.

Captain Watson, who was an eye-witness, states, "that after crossing the river, they attempted to form and give battle, but the houses being in the way, they failed in the attempt. They then retreated through a lane for one hundred yards, on the sides of which a number of Indians were placed, who injured them very much." He, though wounded, joined in the retreat. He further states "that the Indians pursued on each side for about one mile, they then fell back in the rear." He then saw Colonel Lewis and requested him to form the men and make a stand against the Indians once more, as many of the men were wounded and could retreat no farther. The attempt was made without success, as many were without arms. He afterwards saw General Winchester, and begged of him for God's sake to make a stand, as the Indians were in close pursuit, and he himself was much exhausted, and was convinced that many more were in the same condition. The General informed him that the men could not be rallied.

After retreating about three miles from Raisin they came to a field, those on foot passed through, and those on horseback rode around. Here Captain Watson, General Winchester, Colonel Lewis, Doctor Ervine and Doctor Patrick, were seen going slowly forward, their horses much fatigued, and a number of Indians pursuing on fresh horses, who soon overtook them.

Captain Watson, seeing the Indians within one hundred yards of him, slipped through a fence, pulled off his shoes, ran along the fence in a stooping position about sixty yards, and hid himself in some high grass. The Indians continued to pursue those who were before. He thinks there were not more than fifty men ahead of him. After the Indians had passed by, the Captain moved to a prairie, where he concealed himself until dark, and then pushed on to the Rapids, keeping the road a distance to the right.

Mr. Newel, one of Captain Watson's company, concealed himself in a barn, near to where the Indians returned. His account is, that they had "a number of scalps tied to their saddles, and a number also of our men tied." He left the barn on the 23d at night—lost his way, and went back to the river Raisin in the night. He was there informed that all who stood their ground had been taken prisoners, and that but few had been killed. It is due to the memory of Doctor Davis to notice a circumstance which was related by one of the wounded. He stated, that at the commencement of the action he took a gun belonging to a companion of his, also wounded, and moved forward to join the company; the Doctor seeing him, said, "give me the gun, your situation will not allow you to expose yourself," and went himself into the engagement—showing his promptness in every part of duty, whether in dressing the wounded, or in facing the enemy as a private soldier.

I made inquiry of all the prisoners which I could see, about Colonel Allen and Captain Simpson, but could hear nothing satisfactory. I spent a year in prison with several men who were in the retreating party, and often heard them relate what they knew of that sad affair; but as they did not belong to our company, and were not personally acquainted with Colonel Allen and Captain Simpson, and as they were in such a state of alarm—all around being dismay and confusion—they could not particularly notice any person, but directed their whole attention toward their own personal safety. Perhaps the whole truth relating to those brave men, who fell in the retreating party, will never be known. It has been related that Captain Simpson fell not far from the mouth of the lane through which the troops had just passed. It has also been stated of Colonel Allen: "After making several unsuccessful efforts to rally his men—entreating them to halt, and to sell their lives as dearly as possible—that he had retreated about two miles, until he was exhausted; he then sat down upon a log and resigned himself up to his fate. An Indian Chief perceiving him to be an officer of distinction, was anxious to make him a prisoner. As soon as he came to the Colonel, he threw his gun across his lap and told him in Indian to surrender and he should be safe. Another savage having advanced with a hostile appearance, Colonel Allen, with one stroke of his sword, laid him dead at his feet. A third Indian had the honor of shooting one of the first and bravest men of Kentucky.

Before we leave the retreating party, it may not be out of place to record two circumstances which show the estimate which the Indians set upon bravery, and also how they treat cowardice. The circumstances were related to me as follows: A young man after the Indians had taken him prisoner, and appeared inclined to save his life, showed great alarm, and at length told the Indians that he would tell them where they might find a great many white men, and might kill them all, &c. The Indians instantly took his life, although until then they had showed no hostility toward him. The other related to the narrator himself. He stated that after the Indians took him prisoner, they marched him very hard, until he became so much exhausted that he was no longer able to travel as fast as they wished him to go. They shook their tomahawks at him, and told him that he must march faster or die. He was starving and sick, but he kept on as fast and as far as he could, and when he could go no farther he laid down upon the ground and told them to kill him. They motioned with their weapons as if they intended to take his life, but when they saw his resolution they became attached to him, and aided him all they could to go on the journey, and were kind to him as long as he remained with them.

After the British had withdrawn their forces from our front, and the Indians had mostly disappeared, and the firing, save a few scattering guns from some scouting Indians, had ceased, the situation of the retreating party became a matter of anxious concern with Colonel Lewis' detachment, which was left within the picketing. Some were heard to express their fears that they were generally cut off, because of the firing heard in that direction. During all the time the troops within the pickets stood to their posts, and now in this critical moment fully sustained the character of brave Kentuckians. Majors Madison and Garrard, when the amunition grew short in the catridge boxes, were employed busily to furnish the men with a supply, carrying them around in their pocket handkerchiefs and strewing them upon the ground at the soldiers' feet, and at the same time exhorting them never to think of a surrender. Some of our brave men fell by a party of savages coming up under the north bank of the river. From the house containing the wounded, they were discovered. Information was given immediately, and by a detachment they were soon routed.

The firing now had ceased, except a shot as an Indian was seen passing about. The men had to keep a strict look out to prevent surprise, as the Indians were skulking about, and no one felt safe for a single moment. After the cannon, which had been placed down the river about two hundred yards, had ceased firing—the horse and driver which supplied the ammunition being killed—those of us who had received wounds in the battle (myself among the rest,) proceeded to take our breakfasts of a little light bread. This was all that we could now procure.

All the while we were at a loss to know why the British troops had been withdrawn to the woods, and the Indians left alone to contend by themselves; but we afterwards learned that they were waiting the return of the Indians who had pursued the retreating party. When they returned they brought General Winchester and Colonel Lewis with them.

As soon as General Proctor, the British commander, heard that General Winchester was taken, he basely determined to take advantage of it, and thereby procure the surrender of all those within the picketing. He represented to the General that nothing but an immediate surrender could save the Americans from an indiscriminate Indian massacre. It was not until the flag approached, borne by Major Overton, one of the Generals' aids, bringing orders from General Winchester to surrender, that we dreamed that the General, or Colonel Lewis, were prisoners. When this news reached the troops, that General Winchester had surrendered the whole as prisoners to the British, it was like a shock of lightning from one end of the lines to the other. A number declared that they never would submit, let the consequences be what they might. But when they found that Majors Madison and Garrard had consented to obey the orders of General Winchester, some of them, in great rage, threw down their guns with such force as: to shiver the stocks from the barrels.

When the flag above named was first discovered to advance, various conjectures were entertained of the design. The greater number supposed that the enemy was tired of the game and wished to quit, and desired permission to bury their dead, which were not few. There were also many badly wounded. It was plain to discover where their lines had been formed, by the number of killed and wounded still lying on the field.

When Major Madison approached the flag, Colonel Proctor, with great haughtiness, demanded an immediate surrender, or he would set the town on fire, and that the Indians should not be restrained from committing an indiscriminate massacre. Major Madison observed "that it had been customary for the Indians to massacre the wounded prisoners after a surrender," and "that he could not agree to any capitulation which General Winchester might direct, unless the safety and protection of his men were secured." Colonel Proctor then said, "Sir, do you mean to dictate for me?" "No," replied Madison, "I mean to dictate for myself—and we prefer to sell our lives as dearly as possible, rather than be massacred in cold blood." Proctor then agreed to receive a surrender upon the terms, that all private property should be respected—that sleds should be sent next morning to remove the sick and wounded to Amherstburg—and that in the mean time they should be protected by a guard, and the side arms should be restored to the officers at Malden.

But this unprincipled deceiver, bearing the title of General, suffered the savages to violate the treaty before his own eyes. Whilst the men were in parade to surrender their arms in order, the Indians began to tear up the tents and to plunder in every direction gathering up every thing in the shape of clothing, and every knapsack which they could find. I could not bear arms from my wound, and whilst the men were on parade, some time before they were marched off, I was passing about and noticing the movements and work of the Indians. They were striving who should get the most plunder. I passed around to the front of the house to take a look at the boys before they left us; they braved it off as well as might have been expected. Some looked a little dejected—others joked and laughed. One, who had not yet fallen into the ranks, was standing upon a stile-block, and said to the English: "Well, you have taken the greatest set of game cocks that ever came from Kentuck." I wish I could remember his name—he was calculated to remind one of a game cock.

John Locke and Jesse Fisher, of our company, were badly wounded; and as both Proctor and Elliott had promised to send sleds for us in the morning, and though able to walk myself, I resolved to risk it, and stay and assist those who were not able to help themselves. Captain Hart, of Lexington, Kentucky, expressed great anxiety to be taken with the prisoners to Malden. His men offered to carry him, and were reluctant to leave him behind; but Colonel Elliott, the commander of the Indians, being well acquainted with Hart and his family—having in former life received great favors from them in Kentucky—assured him that he need not be under the least apprehension of danger—that the Indians would not molest those that were left—and that, upon the honor of a soldier, he would send his own sleigh for him on the next morning and have him conveyed to Malden.

Some of the more discerning apprehended great danger in being left, and insisted on all that could go to do so. The brave Captain Hickman saw the danger, and desired all that could walk not to remain; for, said he to Mr. Holton, (now Captain Holton,) "there are more of us here now than will ever get away." This, from what I could afterwards learn, was the sentiment entertained and expressed by all the officers. But what could they do in their wounded and defenceless condition, being no doubt doomed to death by the infamous Proctor and Elliott.

These brave officers and soldiers, who had battled against the very elements for months, and had passed through sufferings almost equal to death itself, lived through it all only to meet the most horrid of all deaths—of being butchered in cold blood, and that without having the power or means of defence.

The parting was a solemn one, and not only solemn, but in reference to most of those unhappy victims, it was final. Many were greatly affected, especially the friends of Hart and Hickman. But having fallen into the hands of a bloody and heartless tyrant, this brave "Spartan band" were compelled to submit to his cruel dictates.

No time was now to be lost—all eyes were directed towards the Rapids—the cowardly Proctor dreaded the approach of General Harrison, and therefore made all possible speed to get out of his way, fearing to meet so brave and experienced an officer; and well he might, for the sight of General Harrison at that time would have been death to the hopes and prospects of these red and white savages, while it would have been a jubilee to those hapless Kentuckians who were doomed to death.

After a few formalities of delivering up arms, &c., they were hurried off and driven like so many beasts to market, but with much less tenderness and kindness than a merciful man would show to his beast. After their arrival at Malden, they were crowded into a pen, and there guarded, without anything to protect them from the weather. Their bread, what little they got, was thrown to them like throwing corn to swine.

Though there was a much shorter rout by which the prisoners might have been returned to their own country, yet this did not satisfy these wanton tyrants—nothing would do but the prisoners must, in the dead of winter, march on foot up Detroit river; thence up the Thames, to Delaware town; thence across the country to Burlington Heights; and from this point to Fort Niagara—a distance perhaps of five hundred miles—when the whole could have been accomplished in about two days' march, by sending them back to the Rapids, where they would have fallen in with their friends at once. But no,—nothing but the infliction of suffering would satisfy those cruel tyrants.

These things are but barely mentioned, that the attention of the young and rising generation may be led to reflect upon them. And that they may have some knowledge of what their fathers suffered in defence of the liberties they now so richly enjoy.

After the men were marched off every thing was quiet; now and then an Indian was seen straying about as though seeking plunder. They did not manifest hostility, and our fears began to subside, and we hoped to be conveyed to the army on the next morning.

Doctors Todd and Bowers were left to take care of the wounded. Major Reynolds and and three interpreters composed the only guard to protect the wounded from the savages. We were hoping that General Harrison, then on his way from the Rapids, would just at that time arrive and give us relief by his reinforcement. Major Reynolds was evidently uneasy lest Harrison should arrive. Some of the Indians staid in town until late in the night. Major Reynolds and the interpreters left some time in the night; at least they left our house, and we saw them no more.

As night came on, our fears began to increase. An Indian came into the house and told us that he thought there was danger to be feared from some Indians, which he thought were disposed to do mischief. He manifested some uneasiness himself; perhaps fearing that some Indian might shoot into the house. He appeared to be well acquainted with the affairs of the Indians, in general, and had some knowledge of the movements and designs of the British and American armies—which he was not at all backward in expressing. He spoke the English language fluently; and from his manners, I would infer that he had spent much of his life with the white population. His principal object seems to have been to gain all the information possible about General Harrison, and the strength of the Northwestern army. It is probable, however, that another object of his visit was to find out from us whether we thought it probable that General Harrison would advance immediately with the main body of his army to make an attack upon Malden. He gained but little information from us. There was but one man of our company thoughtless enough to give any correct information, whose name I shall not mention. He told us many things about Tecumseh and the Indians from the north that were coming to join them in the spring. He seemed to entertain no doubt but that they would, when all their forces were brought together, find it an easy matter to conquer all the armies the United States could send to the north. After remaining in our room about two hours, he very politely bid us good night, and left us.

After the departure of this Indian chief, (for I have but little doubt but what he was among the principal leaders of the Indian forces,) some conversation ensued among ourselves in reference to the designs of this crafty and intelligent chief.

There was, as well as I can recollect, but one opinion expressed on the subject; and I believe it was the opinion of all, that that would be the last night with most of us. We dreaded an attack during the night; for this Indian, just as he left, said "I am afraid some of the mischievious boys will do some mischief before morning." After remaining in this state of suspense for more than an hour, expecting every moment that the savages would come rushing upon us; but every thing becoming quiet, we laid down upon our blankets to rest: but rested very little during this dismal night. Dreadful as was the night, the morning was more fearful. Just as the sun had risen upon us, and our hopes began to rise; and just as we were about to eat the morsel of bread left us by our friends who had been marched off the day before, that we might be ready at a moments warning to leave, should the British send sleighs for us, we heard a noise in the passage, and before we had time to think, the door of our room was forced open by an Indian, who entered with tomahawk in hand, ready to commence his bloody work. He was quickly followed by others. Their first object was plunder. They had no sooner entered the door of our room, than they began, in the most cruel manner, to strip the blankets and clothes off the wounded as they lay upon the floor. Fortunately for me, I was at the opposite side of the room from the door at which the Indians entered, near a door leading into the front room of the house; and finding there was no time to lose, I immediately passed out into the front room, where I met one of the most savage looking Indians I ever beheld. His very appearance was enough to terrify the stoutest heart. His face painted as black as charcoal could make it, plainly indictive of his deadly design; a bunch of long feathers fastened on his head, almost as large as a half bushel; a large tomahawk, the instrument of death, in his right hand; a scalping knife fastened to his belt. He instanly seized me by the collar, and led me out at the front door. At first I manifested some unwillingness to go with him. He then spoke very earnestly in his own language, and at the same time pulled me along forcibly, as if to remove me from the scene of death within. He led me through the front gate, and down the river about one hundred yards to the other houses, in which were Captains Hart, Hickman, and others. After leading me through the front gate, he left me. Just at this time, Captain Hart came out of his room, barefooted, with nothing on but shirt and drawers. In this condition he stood in the snow for some length of time pleading for his life. I here met with the chief who had been in our room in the evening. Captain Hart understanding the designs of Proctor and Elliott, and knowing that the only possible chance for life, under the circumstances, was to make some arrangement with the Indians. For this purpose he sought an interview with this one, as he seemed to be a leader, and very intelligent. They met in the front yard, near the gate, about the time I came in.

I stood by and heard the conversation. Captain Hart's first remark, if I mistake not, was, that he was an acquaintance of Colonel Elliott's, and that he (Elliott) had promised to send his own sleigh for him. The Indian replied, "Elliott has deceived you—he does not intend to fulfill his promise." Well, said Capt. Hart, "if you will agree to take me, I will give you a horse, or a hundred dollars. You shall have it on our arrival at Malden." The Indian said, "I cannot take you." "Why?" asked Captain Hart. "You are too badly wounded," said the Indian. Captain Hart then asked the Indian, what they intended to do with them? "Boys," said the Indian, raising himself up into an attitude and air of consequence and insult, "your are all to be killed." Though involved in the same calamity myself, I could but notice the calmness and composure with which the brave officer received the sentence of death. The only reply which I heard him make was in the language of prayer to Almighty God to sustain him in this hour of trial. Feeling that the awful sentence included myself as well as all the rest, my heart seemed to sink within me, expecting every moment to receive the fatal blow. Just at this moment an Indian dragged Captain Hickman out of the house by one arm, and threw him down near where I stood, with his face on the snow. He was tomahawked, but not yet dead. He lay strangling in his blood. From this scene I turned away, and walking round the end of the house, towards the back yard, met an Indian at the corner of the house, who took hold of me and searched my pockets for money, but finding none, passed on. I then passed on round the house, leaving the main building on my right, and walking slowly that I might not appear to have any design, and that I might not attract the attention of the enemy. I thought, possibly, I might reach a small log building which I discovered not far from the house. As there was but one small entrance into it, and as it appeared dark within, it seemed to present the only possible refuge; and as there was no time to lose, and as life and death were depending, I determined to make the attempt to gain this place of retreat. But as I was within a few paces of my hiding place, an Indian coming from the opposite direction met me, and taking hold of me, asked me where I was wounded: I placed my hand upon my shoulder. He then felt of it, and finding that the wound was not bad, he took me back to the house where he had deposited his plunder; put a blanket around me, gave me a hat, then took me to the back door of the house in which the wounded lay, and gave me his gun and plunder in charge. In a moment every thing seemed to wear a different aspect. I now experienced one of those sudden transitions of mind impossible to be either conceived or expressed, except by those whose unhappy lot it has been, to be placed in like circumstances. Until now, despair had spread its gloomy mantle over me; but hope, that cheering companion, again visited my sinking heart, and I again saw a faint prospect that my life might be spared. Thus situated, I had time to see what was passing around me. I had command of the way leading to Malden; and I saw but one road. I remained in this position about two hours, during which time I saw several pass—I suppose all who were able. Here I saw a striking example of the estimate a man places on life. I saw some of our own company—old acquaintances who were so badly wounded that they could scarcely be moved in their beds, understanding that those who could not travel on foot to Malden were all to be tomahawked, pass on their way to Malden, hobbling along on sticks. Poor fellows, they were soon overtaken by their merciless enemies and inhumanly butchered. A few moments after, being placed here by the Indian who claimed me, another Indian set fire to the house. The fire was built in the passage near the backdoor where I stood. After the fire had taken considerable hold of the house, an Indian came running down stairs with a keg of powder in his hand, with the head out. Just as he got to the foot of the stairs his foot slipped, and he come very near falling into the fire with the powder. Had the powder caught, both he and I would have perished.

The general opinion, I believe is, in reference to Captain Hart, that an Indian engaged to take him to Malden; and that another Indian, unwilling that he should go, shot him on the road. This may be true, but has always appeared to me improbable. From the position I occupied, having command of the way to Malden, I believe I saw all who passed in that direction, but saw nothing of Captain Hart. Upon the whole, I am induced to think that Captain Hart met his fate in the front yard where I left him.