As the number of Indians about the fort was constantly increasing, Captain Heald at last decided to evacuate the fort, which he should have done before. On the morning of August 15, 1812, the troops commenced to move out of the fort; by some strange and weird choice of the drum major, a dead march was played as they marched.
to deliver up to you the medal
They advanced along the lake shore, keeping near the water east of the sand hills and banks; these elevations partially screened them from view. The group had not proceeded far, when to their surprise the five hundred Potawatomi who had volunteered as an escort suddenly filed to the right and rapidly disappeared among the sand hills. As soon as the Indians were out of sight on the west side of the hills, they crouched down to hide their movements and ran ahead some distance to form an ambuscade. Then they awaited the coming of the troops. Riding ahead, Captain Wells had observed their movements; with his experience he knew immediately that the party would be attacked. He returned to the troops, dismounted, assembled the soldiers, and marched them forward. When the little band had reached a point about one and a half miles from the fort, the Indians opened fire on them. The company of soldiers charged up the bank and over the sand hills, firing as they advanced, while the Indians returned the fire with deadly effect from their sheltered position. As soon as the fighting commenced, the friendly Miami who had come from Fort Wayne and had stood by their adopted brother, Captain Wells, and their white allies, deserted them and took no part in the fight. Captains Wells and Heald and their small body of troops, fighting against fearful odds, succeeded in dislodging the enemy from their sheltered position; but the Indians were so numerous that part of them were able to outflank the soldiers and to take possession of their horses and baggage.
During the fight a young Indian crept up to the baggage wagon, which contained twelve children, and tomahawked and scalped all of its occupants. Captain Wells, after fighting desperately, was surrounded and stabbed in the back. His body was horribly mangled; his head was cut off, and his heart was cut out and eaten by the savages. They thought that some of the brave captain’s courage and skill would thus be imparted to them. He was indeed a fearless officer and a celebrated Indian fighter, but the odds against him had been too great. Fifty-two whites were killed, including twenty-six soldiers, twelve militiamen, two women, and twelve children.
Captain Heald ordered a retreat and withdrew the small remnant of his command. A parley ensued, and Heald surrendered on the condition that lives be spared. The soldiers then marched back to the fort, which was immediately plundered and burned by the Indians.
It is sentimental nonsense to attribute the massacre to the failure of Captain Heald to act promptly at the time of the evacuation. The experiences and records of those who lived with and had dealings with Indians show beyond all doubt that as a race they are treacherous by nature. The more the government and individuals do for them, the more treacherous and unreliable they become.
CAPTAIN ALLAN H. DOUGALL
FORT WAYNE DAILY GAZETTE, December 18, 1887