The sword is, as it were, consecrated to God; and the art of war becomes a part of our religion.” –Samuel Davies

Friday, August 9, 2013

The Battle of Sandusky - June 4, 1782

       In my last post, we looked at the beginning of Col. William Crawford’s expedition to punish the Indian tribes north of the Ohio River.  Here we pick up the story just as the forces are about to engage each other.

      The army crossed the river just below the site of the old town, at a point half a mile from the deserted Moravian huts, following the Indian trace, which led across a broad, level bottom, in a northerly direction, to the bluffs, or high ground, beyond.  Three miles from the starting point brought them to the springs, where Upper Sandusky is now located; when, after marching a mile further, some of the men, for the first time, expressed a desire to return home—alleging they had but five days' provisions in reserve.  [Col. William] Crawford, stopping the march, immediately called a council of war, consisting of the captains and field officers.  [Dr. John] Knight and [Lt. John] Rose were also invited, as were [John] Slover and [Jonathan] Zane. The opinion of the latter had great weight with Crawford, who knew Zane to be exceedingly well versed in Indian strategy.
       Zane advised an immediate return. He was of opinion that the Indians would, in the end, bring an overwhelming force against them.  A further march into their country, he reasoned, even though the army had supplies in abundance, would only be giving more time to the enemy to gather reinforcements.  That none of the Indians had, as yet, been discovered in the Plains was a sure evidence, in his judgment, that they were concentrating at some point not far away for a determined resistance.  The views of Crawford coincided with those of Zane.  It was finally determined by the council that the army should continue its march that afternoon, but no longer.
       Crawford had previously formed a company of light-horse to act as scouts in advance of the army.  These could now move a considerable distance in front of the main body with comparatively little risk—the woods having, to a great extent, disappeared, and there being no bushes or undergrowth in the groves for ambuscades by the enemy.  From this company Crawford had detached a small party for observation, soon after leaving the old village.  They followed along the Indian trail, and were now reconnoitering the open country to the northeast of the spot where the council of war was deliberating.  To the left of the trace they saw a beautiful island, or grove, which seemed to beckon them from the fierce heat of the sun.  They drew up for a moment to enjoy the cool shade of its clustering oaks.
       The spot where the party halted was slightly elevated above the surrounding country, and, notwithstanding the overshadowing branches of the thickly-growing trees, was covered with a luxuriant growth of the tall, wild grass of the Plains.  To the north and west the prairie spread out before them—a broad champaign of exceeding beauty, with here and there, in the distance, small island-groves, to break the otherwise uninterrupted view.  Eastward, at not more than a mile away, a long line of forest trees of the usual variety of the country, decked the margin of the Sandusky.  Midway, and near the edge of the Plains, the Indian trace led onward in a direction nearly northeast to the Wyandot town— the Half King's residence—only a little over two miles distant.  Not very far off, in a southwest direction, there was a large swamp, impassable to horsemen.  The scouts had passed to the right of this swamp .without discovering it.
       They now struck out into the open prairie to the north, moving leisurely on, when, at a distance of a mile from the grove they had just left, they suddenly came in full view of the enemy, having unsuspectingly reconnoitered, very near the rendezvous of the latter.  When first seen, the Indians were running directly toward them.  The scouts immediately drew together, and dispatched one of their number, riding their fleetest horse, as an express, to inform Crawford of the discovery of the savages; and then wheeling about, retired slowly as the foe advanced.
The Indians had chosen a favorable point for the assembling of their forces.  It was not far distant from the two traces—the one leading northeast to the Half King's town; the other, northwest to Pipe's town,—branching off from the springs, the spot where Upper Sandusky now stands.  The warriors in advance were the Delawares under The Pipe, their famous war-chief.  With him were Wingenund and [Simon] Girty.  Their object in moving south was to secure the grove before the arrival of the Americans.  The Wyandots under Zhaus-sho-toh were held back by [Capt. Matthew] Elliott for the present.
       Just as the officers of the American army had ended their council of war, the scout from the north came riding up at full speed, announcing the discovery and advance of the savages.  The news was received with evident satisfaction by the whole army.  Rapidly the volunteers mounted and fell into line. Crawford immediately prepared to meet the enemy he had been so anxiously looking for.  An advance was ordered, which was obeyed with alacrity.  The army was now joined by the retiring scouts, who reported the Indians just ahead in considerable force, evidently prepared to offer them battle.
       The resplendent genius of Rose, the aid of Colonel Crawford, began now to exhibit itself.  As the belligerents rapidly approached each other he aroused himself.  Although his keen, dark eyes flashed with excitement, yet his voice exhibited no trepidation.  In all his movements he was cool and collected.  The genial, complaisant, and retiring gentleman was now the bold, dauntless, and spirited soldier.  He rode the best horse in the army; and as he galloped up and down the lines carrying the orders of his commander, his gallantry and martial bearing attracted general attention.  It was well, as we shall presently see, that Irvine consented to spare his aid-de-camp to Crawford.
       The Americans had advanced scarcely a mile when the enemy were discovered immediately in front, taking possession of the grove the light-horse had so recently abandoned.  Crawford, instantly detecting the advantage this would give the foe, ordered his men to dismount; and a quick, forward movement, with brisk firing by the Americans, soon drove the Indians out of the wood into the open prairie to the north, the former getting full possession of the grove.  The savages then attempted to gain a small skirt of woods on the right of our army, but were prevented by the bravery and vigilance of Major Leet, who had command in that quarter.  Just then the Delawares, who had bravely met the first shock of the battle, were reinforced by the Wyandots under Zhaus-sho-toh.
Elliott, who was now present and in command of the entire force of the enemy, ordered The Pipe, with his Delawares, to flank to the right and attack Crawford in the rear.  This was quickly accomplished, the Indians passing along just beyond the edge of the grove on the west; and the action became at once general, close, and hot.  This skillful maneuver of the savages came well nigh proving fatal to the Americans; but the latter, having the advantage of position, maintained their ground, although clearly outnumbered by their assailants.  The firing began at four o'clock and continued very warm on both sides.  Girty was conspicuous in his excitement and endeavors.  The enemy were sheltered by the grass which grew high and rank upon the Plains, so that they could scarcely be seen, when on foot, at any great distance away.  On the other hand, the Americans were better protected by the grove they had so bravely secured.
       At times it was doubtful how the day would end, as the battle continued with varying success.  After a while, however, it was evident to Crawford that the Indians were slacking their efforts.  Toward sunset they became more cautious in their attacks, being evidently less inclined to expose themselves to the deadly aim of the frontiersmen; and finally, at dusk, they drew back farther into the Plains, and the firing ceased as daylight disappeared.
       The afternoon had been unusually hot.  Little or no air was stirring.  The river was over a mile away from the battle-ground, and the soldiers suffered very much from thirst.  No spring was near nor running stream.  Many canteens were emptied long before the battle was ended.  Several of the volunteers went in search of water.  John Sherrard was one of the number—his gun having become useless to him from forcing a bullet into the barrel without powder.  After a while, in wandering about, he came to a spot where a tree had been blown down and a considerable depression in the ground had been caused by the upheaval of the roots.  Here he found some stagnant water.  After quenching his thirst he filled his canteen and hat, and, thus supplied, made his way to his company—the men eagerly drinking of the water, bad as it was.  The residue of the time, during the battle, Sherrard employed in traveling back and forth with canteens filled at the pool, the bullets flying thickly around him, but he escaped unhurt.
       As the battle progressed, the savages, skulking in the high grass of the prairie, would frequently get within close range of the guns of the Americans, generally to be shot before they could make good their retreat; for, in all maneuvers of that sort, the volunteers were the equals of the Indians.  Some of the borderers climbed trees, and from their bushy tops took deadly aim at the heads of the enemy as they arose above the grass.  Daniel Canon was conspicuous in this novel mode of warfare.  He was one of the dead-shots of the army; and, from his lofty hiding-place, the reports of his unerring rifle gave unmistakable evidence of the killing of savages.  "I do not know how many Indians I killed," said he, afterward, "but I never saw the same head again above the grass after I shot at it!"
       "About a hundred feet off," says Philip Smith, "an Indian was hid in the tall grass, firing at me.  I felt the bark of a tree, where I stood, fly in my face several times.  Having discovered the position of the savage I fired several shots; and, at the seventh one, catching sight of his body, I brought him down.  No more balls came from that quarter.  After waiting a reasonable time, I crawled along to find his body, but it had been dragged away.  I could see plainly the trail of blood it made."
       Another soldier, who had climbed one of the trees of the grove, witnessed, from his lookout in its scrubby top, the pursuit of the gallant Rose by a party of mounted Indians, who were so close to him, at times, as to throw their tomahawks!  They were, however, finally baffled by his coolness and superior horsemanship.  It was, according to the narrator's account, a most exciting race—even to a forgetfulness, by the latter, of his own dangerous position.
       Francis Dunlevy, who belonged to Captain Craig Ritchie's company, had, during the fight, been engaged with an Indian of huge proportions.  The latter, as evening approached, crept carefully and cautiously toward Dunlevy, through the top of a tree lately blown down, which was full of leaves, when, getting near enough as he supposed, he threw his tomahawk, but missed his aim, and then escaped.  This Indian was afterward recognized by Dunlevy, as he believed, in "Big Captain Johnny," who, in the war of 1812, was with the friendly Shawanese at Wapakoneta.  "In a campaign in which I served," writes A. H. Dunlevy, "under General William Henry Harrison, in 1812—13, I frequently saw this Indian.  He must have been seven feet in height!  He was as frightfully ugly as he was large."
       At dark, the victory was clearly with the Americans.  The enemy drew off, "with the loss of several scalps," afterward wrote Rose to Irvine.  How many savages were killed must be left entirely to conjecture.   The loss of the enemy was doubtless severe—much more so than with the borderers.  No prisoners were captured on either side.
       Although Crawford was left in full possession of the battle-field, yet the Indians were far from being dispirited.  They well knew that reinforcements were hastening to their relief; that these would certainly reach them on the morrow.  The American army, during the three hours and a half contest, lost five killed and nineteen wounded.   Of the latter were Major Brinton, Captains Munn and Ross, Lieutenant Ashley, Ensign McMasters, and Philip Smith.  Captain Ogle was killed; also, private John Campbell, of Pigeon creek, Washington county.
       Both parties lay on their arms during the night, and both adopted the policy of kindling large fires along their lines and then retiring some distance in the rear of them, to prevent being surprised by a night attack.  The camp of the Wyandots was in the prairie north of the grove; that of the Delawares, in the open country to the south.
       The battle of Sandusky was fought in and around the grove since well known as "Battle Island," in what is now Crane township, Wyandot county, three miles north, and half a mile east, of the court-house in Upper Sandusky.  This spot has always been readily identified, by reason of the scars upon the trunks of the trees, made by the hatchets of the Indians in getting out the bullets after the action.  But the "Island" may now be said to have disappeared.  Cultivated fields mark the site where the contest took place.  Occasionally an interesting relic is turned up by the plowshare, to be preserved by the curious as a memento of the battle. 1

       Although the Americans seemed to be victorious, the campaign wasn’t over yet.  The Indians were hoping to receive reinforcements; the Americans were hoping to just hold on.  Lord willing, we’ll pick up the story in my next post. 

Christ, not man, is King!
Dale

1)      C.W. Butterfield, An Historical Account of the Expedition Against Sandusky (Cincinnati, OH: Robert Clarke & Co., 1873), p. 202-13.



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