He had been unlucky in his campaigns, but n.o.body ever doubted his courage. General Washington thought highly of him, and now took pains to say, in person, to him, before the start was made:
"Beware of a surprise. You know how the Indians fight. So I repeat--beware of a surprise."
General Saint Clair had been promised three thousand men, but when early in September of this year 1791 he left Fort Washington, he had only two thousand men. Still, it was a strong army, comprising the greater portion of the whole army of the United States. There were the First and Second Infantry, half a battalion (two companies) of the regular artillery, a company of mounted riflemen volunteers, and six hundred Kentucky militia.
Major-General Richard Butler of Pennsylvania, and of the Continental army in the Revolution, was field officer in command; and a number of the other officers had been trained under Washington. But the Second Regiment was new, the last spring, and largely of recruits; and the Kentucky militia had not wanted to come.
Part of them deserted, on the way out. The First Regiment was sent to catch them. This left fourteen hundred men, to march on into the Indian country. General Saint Clair was so crippled with the rheumatism and the gout that he could scarcely mount a horse.
Twenty miles north of Fort Washington he halted long enough to erect Fort Hamilton--Hamilton, Ohio; twenty miles farther he erected Fort Saint Clair; and twenty miles farther, Fort Jefferson, near the present city of Greenville, Ohio.
He was following up along the Indiana-Ohio line, to strike the Miami villages. By the night of November 3 he had arrived within about fifty miles of Little Turtle"s princ.i.p.al town. The place on the modern map is Fort Recovery, northern Ohio, close to Indiana.
Little Turtle was ready. He had twelve hundred men. Buckongahelas the Delaware, and Blue-jacket the Shawnee were helping him. So was a Missisauga chief who had been drilled under British officers. So was Simon Girty the white-Indian savage. So were a number of Canadians and French half-breeds, from Canada and from the Illinois country. And so, it is stated, were several British officers from Detroit, who wished to see their old foes, the Continentals, licked. Their red coats were noticed in the battle, next day.
General Saint Clair was a good soldier, and planned well. He had planted a string of supply depots behind him. He had made a practice of sounding the reveille two hours before day-break, every morning in camp, and keeping the men at parade until almost sunrise, to guard against a surprise. He tried to be thorough.
This afternoon of November 3 he had selected an excellent camp ground, from which a few Indians had fled at his approach. It was high, compact, and protected by a creek. He stationed his main body in two lines about seventy yards apart, facing in opposite directions.
His scouts had reported that the Indians were collecting in force about twelve miles distant. His intention was, to fortify the camp, so that the knapsacks and other baggage might be left there; and as soon as the delayed First Regiment came in, to push right on and attack.
Little Turtle"s scouts also had been active. They had surveyed the marches and the camps, had measured the infantry, artillery and cavalry--and had been alarmed by the showing. Here was an old general and some big captains, wise in the art of war.
Now what to do?
Little Turtle called a grand council of all the chiefs, red and white.
They debated whether to attack the camp, or to try an ambush in the field. Little Turtle favored attacking the camp. An ambush would be expected by the old general, but an attack upon a strongly guarded camp would not be expected. A maxim of war says: "Never do what the enemy expects you to do."
The Missisauga chief sided with Little Turtle. He was a tall, stout, fierce fellow, very swarthy and severe looking. He wore hide leggins and moccasins; a long blue shirt, a brocade vest, an overcoat instead of a blanket, and a turban studded with two hundred silver brooches.
In either ear were two bangles, twelve inches long, formed of silver medals and quarter-dollars; in his nose were three nose-jewels of painted silver.
He was respectfully listened to as a wise captain, and he and Little Turtle carried the day.
"But the gray-haired general is always ready for a surprise attack."
"All right. Wait until the hour when he is not ready. Then strike."
Under the direction of Commander-in-Chief Little Turtle, in the darkness this night the Indian army stole forward and was posted with as much skill as any white army.
The Miamis held the center; the Wyandots, the Delawares and the Senecas held the right; the Ottawas, the Potawatomis, the Shawnees, and others, held the left.
They were ready. They could hear the challenges of the alert sentries, at the gray-hair"s camp. Two hours before day-break they heard the drums beating the reveille. The soldiers of the gray-hair were on the watch.
The light in the east broadened. Securely hidden, the Little Turtle army waited. They might see the dim tents of the militia advance-guard, camped a quarter of a mile this side of the creek.
Beyond, where the main camp was under arms, the smoke of the fires began to thicken.
Toward the time of sunrise the soldiers grew tired of standing in ranks. The dawn-hour for surprise by Indians had pa.s.sed. Trumpet and drum-roll sounded for "Break ranks." Having stacked their guns the soldiers gladly made for their tents, or squatted around the breakfast fires.
Another day had begun, without event.
Little Turtle allowed fifteen minutes or so, for the soldiers to settle and doze. Then he gave the signal, a half hour before sunrise.
General Saint Clair was lying sick in his tent. There burst a distant rifle shot; it was instantly followed by a crackling volley, as from half a thousand rifles--and an answering heavier volley from the muskets of the militia.
Struggling to don his blanket-coat he limped out, his gray queue ragged. The camp sprang to arms, for officers and men knew their business; but here came the militia like a drove of stampeded cattle, legging frantically for shelter from a horde of whooping, darting Indians. The militia dived through the lines of the regulars, into the very center of the camp, and for a short period all was chaos.
It was a furious fight. Re-forming their lines, the regulars stood well. They checked the charge by a thunderous volley from the long-barreled flint-lock muskets--the same as used at Brandywine, Princeton and Yorktown.
The strategy of Little Turtle and his chiefs was excellent. They shifted the attack from point to point. They attacked both lines at once. They took advantage of every cover, and constantly appeared closer. They killed every horse and every gunner of the artillery posted in the center.
Of the Second Infantry, all the officers fell except two. General Butler hastened bravely up and down the one line, encouraging the troops; General Saint Clair limped heroically up and down the other line. Eight bullets pierced his clothing--a lock of his hair was shorn off. General Butler was shot twice; and while he was sitting, mortally wounded, an Indian rushed in and tomahawked him.
General Saint Clair"s army was being shot to pieces. He ordered bayonet charges; but when these had cleared a little s.p.a.ce, the Indians re-appeared, thicker than ever. Their fire, it is recorded, "was tremendous."
The camp was entered, and pillaged. Some two hundred and fifty women, among them the general"s dashing daughter, had come with the army; and these suffered terribly.
After three hours" battle, the general ordered a final charge, to open a way. Pressing behind the bayonets, the weary troops commenced a retreat of twenty-nine miles to Fort Jefferson.
The general, on a poor pack-horse, insisted on bringing up the rear.
Out of his less than fourteen hundred soldiers, thirty-eight officers and six hundred men were killed or missing; twenty-one officers and two hundred and forty-two men were wounded. Fifty of the women had died.
It was as bad as the defeat of General Braddock"s army, in 1755. For a year and a half the field was covered with bleaching bones.
Little Turtle, the Missisauga chief and Simon Girty the white savage had directed the attack. After a pursuit of four miles, seeing that the soldiers were on the run and throwing away guns, knapsacks, and all, they called the chase off.
It had been victory enough. They had captured seven pieces of cannon, two hundred cattle, many horses; they returned to the villages with one hundred and twenty scalps strung on one pole, and with three pack-horses piled high with kegs of liquor.
Their own loss was stated to be fifty-six. Surely this was a great triumph for Commander-in-Chief Little Turtle.
CHAPTER XI
LITTLE TURTLE FEARS THE BIG WIND (1792-1812)
AND IT BLOWS HIM INTO PEACE
President Washington was almost beside himself when he got the frank report from General Saint Clair. Another American army--as good a selection as had opposed the British themselves in many a battle of the Revolution--had been fairly outwitted and fairly defeated, by Indians.
General Anthony Wayne was appointed to try next. "Mad Anthony,"
soldiers and citizens had styled him, because of his head-long valor in the Revolution. He was a good man for the job, if he did not act too fast and get ambushed.
He took his time. The army of the United States was reorganized into the Legion of the United States. He was placed in command.
There were four Sub-legions, or corps, each composed of artillery, dragoons, infantry and riflemen. The enlisted men wore round caps like helmets.
The badge of the First Sub-legion was white binding, with short plumes of white wool and black horse-hair.