1790-95.

St. Clair's Defeat.

361

the design to turn their right flank, but in fact, to gain the road. This was effected, and as soon as it was open, the militia took along it, followed by the troops; Major Clarke, with his battalion, covering the

rear.

The retreat, in those circumstances, was, you may be sure, a very precipitate one. It was, in fact, a flight. The camp and the artillery were abandoned; but that was unavoidable; for not a horse was left alive to have drawn it off, had it otherwise been practicable. But the most disgraceful part of the business is, that the greatest part of the men threw away their arms and accoutrements, even after the pursuit, which continued about four miles, had ceased. I found the road strewed with them for many miles, but was not able to remedy it; for, having had all my horses killed, and being mounted upon one that could not be pricked out of a walk, I could not get forward myself; and the orders I sent forward either to halt the front, or to prevent the men from parting with their arms, were unattended to. The rout continued quite to Fort Jefferson, twenty-nine miles, which was reached a little after sun-setting. The action began about half an hour before sunrise, and the retreat was attempted at half an hour after nine o'clock. I have not yet been able to get returns of the killed and wounded; but Major General Butler, Lieutenant Colonel Oldham, of the militia, Major Ferguson, Major Hart, and Major Clarke, are among the former: Colonel Sargent, my Adjutant General, Lieutenant Colonel Darke, Lieutenant Colonel Gibson, Major Butler, and the Viscount Malartie, who served me as an Aid-de-camp, are among the latter; and a great number of captains and subalterns in both.

I have now, sir, finished my melancholy tale -a tale that will be felt sensibly by every one that has sympathy for private distress, or for public misfortune. I have nothing, sir, to lay to the charge of the troops, but their want of discipline, which, from the short time they had been in service, it was impossible they should have acquired, and which rendered it very difficult, when they were thrown into confusion, to reduce them again to order, and is one reason why the loss has fallen so heavy on the officers, who did every thing in their power to effect it. Neither were my own exertions wanting: but, worn down with illness, and suffering under a painful disease, unable either to mount or dismount a horse without assistance, they were not so great as they otherwise would, and perhaps ought to have been. We were overpowered by numbers; but it is no more than justice to observe, that, though composed of so many different species of troops, the utmost harmony prevailed through the whole army during the campaign. At Fort Jefferson I found the first regiment, which had returned from the service they had been sent upon, without either overtaking the deserters, or meeting the convoy of provisions. I am not, certain, sir, whether I

362

St. Clair's Defeat.

1790-95. ought to consider the absence of this regiment from the field of action, as fortunate or otherwise. I incline to think it was fortunate: for, I very much doubt whether, had it been in the action, the fortune of the day had been turned; and, if it had not, the triumph of the enemy would have been more complete, and the country would have been destitute of every means of defence. Taking a view of the situation of our broken troops at Fort Jeferson, and that there was no provision in the fort, I called upon the field officers, viz: Lieutenant Colonel Darke, Major Hamtramck, Major Zeigler, and Major Gaither, together with the Adjutant General, [Winthrop Sargent,] for their advice what would be proper further to be done; and it was their unanimous opinion, that the addition of the first regiment, unbroken as it was, did not put the army on so respectable a foot as it was in the morning, because a great part of it was now unarmed; that it had been then found unequal to the enemy, and should they come on, which was possible, would be found so again that the troops could not be thrown into the fort, both because it was too small, and that there were no provisions in it; that provisions were known to be upon the road, at the distance of one, or at most two marches: that, therefore, it would be more proper to move without loss of time, to meet the provisions, when the men might have the sooner an opportunity of some refreshment, and that a proper detachment might be sent back with it, to have it safely deposited in the fort. This advice was accepted, and the army was put in motion at ten o'clock, and marched all night, and the succeeding day met with a quantity of flour. Part of it was distributed immediately, part taken back to supply the army on the march to Fort Hamilton, and the remainder, about fifty horse loads, sent forward to Fort Jefferson. next day a drove of cattle was met with for the same place, and I have information that both got in. The wounded, who had been left at that place, were ordered to be brought to Fort Washington by the return horses.

The

I have said, sir, in a former part of this letter, that we were overpowered by numbers. Of that, however, I have no other evidence but the weight of the fire, which was always a most deadly one, and generally delivered from the ground-few of the enemy showing themselves afoot, except when they were charged; and that, in a few minutes our whole camp, which extended above three hundred and fifty yards in length, was entirely surrounded and attacked on all quarters. The loss, sir, the public has sustained by the fall of so many officers, particularly General Butler and Major Ferguson, cannot be too much regretted; but it is a circumstance that will alleviate the misfortune in some measure, that all of them fell most gallantly doing their duty. I have had very particular obligations to many of them, as well as to the survivors, but to none more than Colonel Sargent. He has dis

1790-95.

St. Clair's Defeat.

363

charged the various duties of his office with zeal, with exactness, and with intelligence, and on all occasions afforded me every assistance in his power, which I have also experienced from my aid-de-camp, Lieutenant Denny, and the Viscount Malartie, who served with me in the station as a volunteer.*

To this description by the commander, we add the following sketch by a subordinate actor in the scene, whose account brings vividly to view the confusion both of the battle and flight.

On the fourth [of November] at daybreak, I began to prepare for returning [to Fort Washington,t] and had got about half my luggage on my horse, when the firing commenced. We were encamped just within the lines, on the right. The attack was made on the Kentucky militia. Almost instantaneously the small remnant of them that escaped broke through the line near us, and this line gave way. Followed by a tremendous fire from the enemy, they passed me. I threw my bridle over a stump, from which a tent pole had been cut, aud followed a short distance, when finding the troops had halted, I returned and brought my horse a little farther. I was now between the fires, and finding the troops giving way again, was obliged to leave him a second time. As I quitted him he was shot down, and I felt rather glad of it, as I concluded that now I shall be at liberty to share in the engagement. My inexperience prompted me to calculate on our forces being far superior to any that the savages could assemble, and that we should soon have the pleasure of driving them. Not more than five minutes had yet elapsed, when a soldier near me had his arm swinging with a wound. I requested his arms and accoutrements, as he was unable to use them, promising to return them to him, and commenced firing. The smoke was settled down to about within three feet of the ground, but I generally put one knee to the ground, and with a rest from behind a tree, waited the appearance of an Indian's head from behind his cover, or for one to run and change his position. Before I was convinced of my mistaken calculations, the battle was half over and I had become familiarized to the scene, Hearing the firing at one time unusually brisk near the rear of the left wing, I crossed the encampinent. Two levy officers were just ordering a charge. I had fired away my ammunition, and some of the bands of my musket had flown off. I picked up another, and a cartridge box nearly full, and pushed forward with about thirty others. The Indians ran to the right, where there was a small ravine filled with logs. I bent my course after them, and on looking round, found I was with only seven or eight men, the others having

American State Papers, v. 137.

He was in the quarter-master general's service; so that he "fought on his own hook."

364

Van Cleve's account of St. Clair's Defeat.

1790-95.

We halted

kept straight forward, and halted about thirty yards off. also, and being so near to where the savages lay concealed, the second fire from them left me standing alone. My cover was a small sugar tree or beech, scarcely large enough to hide me. I fired away all my ammunition; I am uncertain whether with any effect or not. I then looked for the party near me, and saw them retreating and half way back to the lines. I followed them running my best, and was soon in. By this time our artillery had been taken, I do not know whether the first or second time, and our troops had just retaken it, and were charging the enemy across the creek in front; and some person told me to look at an Indian running with one of our kegs of powder, but I did not see him. There were about thirty of our men and officers lying scalped around the pieces of artillery. It appeared that the Indians had not been in a hurry, for their hair was all skinned off."

Daniel Bonham, a young man raised by my uncle and brought up with me, and whom I regarded as a brother, had by this time received a shot through his hips, and was unable to walk. I procured a horse and got him on. My uncle had received a ball near his wrist that lodged near his elbow. The ground was literally covered with dead and dying men, and the commander gave orders to take the way— perhaps they had been given more explicitly. Happening to see my uncle, he told me that a retreat was ordered, and that I must do the best I could, and take care of myself. Bonham insisted that he had a better chance of escaping than I had, and urged me to look to my own safety alone. I found the troops pressing like a drove of bullocks to the right. I saw an officer whom I took to be Lieutenant Morgan, an aid to General Butler, with six or eight men, start on a run a little to the left of where I was. I immediately ran and fell in with them. In a short distance we were so suddenly among the Indians, who were not apapprised of our object, that they opened to us, and ran to the right and left without firing. I think about two hundred of our men passed through them before they fired, except a chance shot. When we had proceeded about two miles, most of those mounted had passed me. A boy had been thrown or fell off a horse, and begged my assistance. I ran, pulling him along about two miles further, until I had become nearly exhausted. Of the last two horses in the rear, one carried two men, and the other three. I made an exertion and threw him on behind the two men. The Indians followed but about half a mile further. The boy was thrown off some time after, but escaped and got in safely. My friend Bonham I did not see on the retreat, but understood he was thrown off about this place, and lay on the left of the trace, where he was found in the winter and was buried. I took the cramp violently in my thighs, and could scarcely walk, until I got within a hundred yards of the rear, where the Indians were tomahawk

! 1790-95.

Van Cleve's account of St. Clair's Defeat.

365

ing the old and wounded men; and I stopped here to tie my pocket handkerchief around a man's wounded knee. I saw the Indians close in pursuit at this time, and for a moment my spirits sunk, and I felt in despair for my safety. I considered whether I should leave the road, or whether I was capable of any further exertion. If I left the road, the Indians were in plain sight and could easily overtake me. I threw the shoes off my feet, and the coolness of the ground seemed to revive I again began a trot, and recollect that, when a bend in the road offered, and I got before half a dozen persons, I thought it would occupy some time for the enemy to massacre them, before my turn would come. By the time I had got to Stillwater, about eleven miles, I had gained the centre of the flying troops, and, like them, came to a walk. I fell in with Lieutenant Shaumburg, who, I think, was the only officer of artillery that got away unhurt, with Corporal Mott, and a woman who was called red-headed Nance. The latter two were both crying. Mott was lamenting the loss of a wife, and Nance that of an infant child. Shaumburg was nearly exhausted, and hung on Mott's arm. I carried his fusee and accoutrements, and led Nance; and in this sociable way we arrived at Fort Jefferson a little after sunset.

The commander-in-chief had ordered Colonel Darke to press forward to the convoys of provisions, and hurry them on to the army. Major Truman, Captain Sedan and my uncle were setting forward with him. A number of soldiers, and packhorsemen on foot, and myself among them, joined them. We came on a few miles, when all, overcome with fatigue, agreed to halt. Darius Curtus Orcutt, a packhorse master, had stolen at Jefferson one pocket full of flour and the other full of beef. One of the men had a kettle, and one Jacob Fowler and myself groped about in the dark, until we found some water, where a tree had been blown out of root. We made a kettle of soup, of which I got a small portion among the many. It was then concluded as there was a bend in the road a few miles further on, that the Indians might undertake to intercept us there, and we decamped and travelled about four or five miles further. I had got a rifle and ammunition at Jefferson, from a wounded militiaman, an old acquaintance, to bring in. A sentinel was set, and we lay down and slept, until the governor came up a few hours afterward. I think I never slept so profoundly. I could hardly get awake, after I was on my feet. On the day before the defeat, the ground was covered with snow. The flats were now filled with water frozen over, the ice as thick as a knife blade. I was worn out with fatigue, with my feet knocked to pieces against the roots in the night, and splashing through the ice without shoes. In the morn

Orcutt's packhorses were branded D. C. O., and it was a standing joke, when any one asked what the brand meant, to answer that D. C. stood for Darby Carey, and the round O for his wife.