During the lull in the conflict, both parties viewed the ground, and made new arrangements for attack and defense. It had been observed by the patriots that the Indians, as soon as they saw a gun fired by a provincial behind a tree, would rush forward and tomahawk him before he could reload. To meet such an exigency in the renewed conflict, two men stood together behind a tree, and, while one fired, the other awaited the approach of the savage with his tomahawk, and felled him with his bullet. The provincials had also made choice of more advantageous ground, and, soon after the renewal of the fight, so destructive was their fire that the Indians began to give way. Major Watts came up with a detachment of Johnson's Greens to support them, but the presence of these men, mostly refugees from the Mohawk, made the patriots more furious, and mutual resentments, as the parties faced and recognized each other, seemed to give new strength to their arms. They leaped upon each other with the fierceness of tigers, and fought hand to hand and foot to foot with bayonets and knives. It was a terrible struggle, and exhibited the peculiar cruelty and brutality which distinguishes civil war.

A firing was now heard in the direction of the fort. It was the attack of Willett upon the enemy's camp. Colonel Butler instantly conceived a stratagem, and was nearly successful in its execution. He so changed the dress of a detachment of Johnson's Greens, that they appeared like American troops. These were made to approach from the direction of the fort, and were at first (as intended by Butler) mistaken by the patriots for a re-enforcement from the garrison. But the quick eye of Captain Gardinier, an officer who performed deeds of great valor on that memorable day, discovered their real character, and, ordering his men to fall upon these pretended friends, they were soon scattered in confusion. The Indians, finding their ranks greatly thinned, and the provincials still undismayed, raised the loud retreating cry, Oonah! Oonah! and fled in all directions. The panic was communicated to the Tories and Canadians, and the whole force of the enemy retreated in confusion, pursued by the provincials with shouts of victory. Thus, after a conflict of six hours, ended the battle of Oriskany, the bloodiest encounter, in proportion to the numbers engaged, that occurred during the war. Neither party could claim a decided victory. Both had suffered dreadfully. The patriots remained masters of the field, but they did not accomplish the design of the expedition, the relief of the garrison at Fort Schuyler. Their wounded, nearly fifty in number, were carried from the field on litters, and among them was General Herkimer, who was taken to his residence below the Little Falls, on the Mohawk, where he died ten days afterward. The manner and circumstances of his death will be noticed in the relation of my visit to his mansion, which is still standing.

The loss in this battle seems not to have been officially given on either side. St. Leger, in a letter to Burgoyne, dated August 11th, five days after the battle, says, "Above four hundred [patriots] lay dead on the field, among the number of whom were almost all of the principal movers of the rebellion in that county." The enemy also claimed to have taken two hundred prisoners. Dr. Thatcher, in his Military Journal (page 89), records the loss of the Americans at "one hundred and sixty killed, and a great number wounded." This is the number stated by Gordon and other cotemporary writers. The Indians lost about seventy, among whom were several chiefs. * Major Watts was badly wounded, and left for dead upon the field. He revived from the faintness produced by loss of blood, crawled to a brook and quenched his thirst, and there remained until he was found, nearly three days afterward, by an Indian scout, and taken into St. Leger's camp. There were many deeds

* Gordon and others relate that, in the course of the battle, a portion of the Indians became impressed with the belief that there was a coalition between Johnson's and Herkimer's men to destroy them, and that, toward the close of the conflict, the savages killed many of the Tories. "It is thought," says Gordon, "that near as many of Sir John's Tory party were killed by the Indians as by the militia."

True Aim of History.—Capture of Billenger and Frey.—St. Leger's Messengers.—Their Threats, Persuasions, and Falsehoods

of personal courage exhibited in that battle, which, according to the military ethics of a less benevolent age, would entitle the actors to the crown of laurel, the applause of multitudes, and the panegyric of the historian. But the picture is so revolting to the eye of Christian benevolence, and so repugnant to the nobler feelings of brotherhood, which are now happily impressing their benignant features upon society, that it is far better to draw the curtain of silence before it, and plead for the warriors, in extenuation, the dreadful necessity that impelled them to deeds so shocking to humanity. It is high time that the practice of pampering a depraved public taste by giving the horrid details of slaughter in battle, and of investing with glory, as models for imitation, those who fight most furiously and slay most profusely, should fall into desuetude. These details are not essential elements of history. They contain no useful lesson, no seed of philosophy worthy of germination, no real benefit for the understanding or the heart. * Thus far I have avoided such recitals, and I shall do so through the whole work before me. Neither pen nor pencil shall intentionally contribute one thought for a panegyric on war or its abettors. The student of our Revolution, while he may justly rejoice at the vast and invaluable blessings which followed that event, should be taught to lament rather than admire the dreadful instrumentalities that were necessarily employed. He may thus be taught without lessening the veneration which he ought to feel for those who periled life and fortune in defense of the liberty we now enjoy. Let us turn from these better contemplations to the more unpleasant task of tracing out the succeeding events of the siege of Fort Schuyler.

So completely was the garrison still environed by the besieging force, after the battle at Oriskany, that no correct intelligence of that event could reach them. St. Leger took advantage of this circumstance, and, by false representations of victory for himself, the total discomfiture of the provincials, and the victorious advance of Burgoyne, endeavored to bring the garrison to surrender. Colonel Billenger and Major Frey were made prisoners, and on the evening of the battle they were forced to write a letter to Colonel Gansevoort, which contained many misrepresentations, and a recommendation to cease resistance. St. Leger's adjutant general, Colonel John Butler, delivered the letter to Gansevoort, and at the same time communicated a verbal demand of surrender from his commander. Gansevoort refused an answer to a verbal summons, unless made by St. Leger himself. On the next morning, Colonel Butler and two other officers approached the fort with a white flag, and asked permission to enter as bearers of a message to the commander. The request was granted; they were conducted, blind-folded, within the fortress, and received by Gansevoort in his dining-room, which was lighted with candles, the windows being closed. Colonels Willett and Mellen were present, and the messengers of St. Leger were politely received. Major Ancram, one of them, more fluent in speech than the others, made known the wishes of St. Leger. He spoke of the humanity of his feelings, and his desire to prevent further bloodshed. He assured Gansevoort that it was with much difficulty the Indians were restrained from massacre, and that the only salvation of the garrison was an immediate surrender of the fort and all the public stores. The officers and soldiers would be allowed to retain their baggage and other private property, and their personal safety should be guarantied. He ex pressed a hope that these honorable terms would be immediately complied with, for, if they were not, it would be out of St. Leger's power to renew the proposition. The Indians, he remarked, were ready and eager to march down the country and destroy the inhabitants; and they were reminded that the total destruction of Herkimer's relief corps, and the fact that Burgoyne had possession of Albany, extinguished all hope of succor for the garrison.

* An example in an account of the battle in question, given in Stone's Life of Brant, may be cited as an illustration. A Captain Dillenback was assailed by three of Johnson's Greens. "This officer," says the biographer, "had declared he would not be taken alive, and he was not. One of his three assailants seized his gun, but he suddenly wrenched it from him and felled him with the butt. He shot the second dead, and thrust the third through with his bayonet. But in the moment of his triumph at an exploit of which even the mighty Hector, or either of the sons of Zeruiah, might have been proud, a ball laid this brave man low in the dust." It is the last clause which is chiefly objectionable, for therein the historian, not content with recording the bloody act (justified by the law of self-preservation), lauds it as a deed worthy of the highest praise.

Reply of Colonel Willett to St. Leger's Messengers.—St Leger's written Demand of Surrender.—Gansevoort's Reply

This speech, made up of falsehood, persuasion, and threats, excited the indignation of the patriot officers, and Colonel Willett, with the approbation of Colonel Gansevoort, promptly and properly replied. I give his words, as contained in his narrative. They were delivered with emphasis, while he looked the officer, he says, full in the face: "Do I understand you, sir? I think you say that you came from a British colonel, who is commander of the army that invests this fort; and, by your uniform, you appear to be an officer in the British service. You have made a long speech on the occasion of your visit, which, stripped of all its' superfluities, amounts to this—that you come from a British colonel to the commandant of this garrison, to tell him that, if he does not deliver up the garrison into the hands of your colonel, he will send his Indians to murder our women and children. You will please to reflect, sir, that their blood will be upon your heads, not upon ours. We are doing our duty; this garrison is committed to our charge, and we will take care of it. After you get out of it, you may turn round and look at its outside, but never expect to come in again, unless you come a prisoner. I consider the message you have brought a degrading one for a British officer to send, and by no means reputable for a British officer to carry. For my own part, I declare, before I would consent to deliver this garrison to such a murdering set as your army, by your own account, consists of, I would suffer my body to be filled with splinters and set on fire, as you know has at times been practiced by such hordes of women and children killers as belong to your army."