On Sunday the seventeenth, the main army crossed the Maumee river from the south and encamped on the point of land formed by the junction of the St. Joseph and the Maumee. It was a beautiful spot covered by the Indian corn fields and gardens. The Kentucky militia in parties of thirty and forty, throwing aside all discipline, wandered about in search of plunder. The Indians were wary. They lurked in the woods and thickets, biding the time when they might destroy the army in detail. Major McMullen now discovered the tracks of women and children in a pathway leading to the northwest. Harmar resolved to locate the Indian encampment and bring the savages to battle. On the morning of the eighteenth, Colonel Trotter was given the command of three hundred men, equipped with three days' provisions, and ordered to scour the country. The detachment after pursuing and killing two Indian horsemen, marched in various directions until nightfall, and returned to camp. Colonel Hardin was now given command of the expedition for the two remaining days.
An event now took place that at once exhibited both the wily strategy of the Little Turtle as a military leader, and the blundering bravado of Colonel John Hardin. On the morning of the nineteenth, Hardin moved forward over the Indian trail leading to the northwest. At a distance of some five or six miles from the main army, the detachment came upon an abandoned Indian camp. Here a halt was made, probably to examine the ground, when Hardin hurriedly ordered another advance, thinking he was close on the heels of fleeing red men. In the confusion attending this second movement, Captain Faulkner's company was left in the rear. Hardin now proceeded about three miles, and had routed two Indians out of the thicket, when he suddenly discovered that he had left Faulkner behind. He now dispatched Major James Fontaine with a part of the cavalry to locate that officer. About this time Captain John Armstrong, who was in command of a little company of thirty regulars marching with the militia, informed Hardin that a gun had been fired in front of them which he thought was an alarm gun, and that he had discovered the tracks of a horse that had come down the trail and had returned. Hardin with a dare-devil indifference paid no attention. He moved rapidly on without scouts and without flankers. Armstrong now warned Hardin a second time. He said that he had located the camp fires of the Indians and that they must be close at hand. Hardin rode on, swearing that the Indians would not fight.
All at once the army marched into the entrance of a narrow prairie, flanked on each side by heavy timber. At the far end of the prairie a fire had been kindled and some trinkets placed in the trail. The front columns came up to these baubles and halted—the whole detachment, save Faulkner's company, was in the defile. To the right and left of them, concealed in the underbrush, were three hundred Miamis, led by the Little Turtle. The Indians had divided and "back-tracked" the trail, and were now watching the Americans enter the trap. At the moment the army halted, a furious fire was opened, and all but nine of the militia at once fled, carrying Hardin along with them. The company of Faulkner, coming up in the rear, suddenly saw two horsemen approaching. Each of them had a wounded man behind him covered with blood. The fugitives were yelling: "For God's sake retreat! You will all be killed! There are Indians enough to eat you all up!" The regulars, however, true to tradition, stood their ground. All were stricken down in their tracks except five or six privates, and their captain and ensign. Captain Armstrong sank to his neck in a morass, and the savages did not find him. "The Indians remained on the field; and the ensuing night, held the dance of victory, over the dead and dying bodies of their enemies, exulting with frantic gestures, and savage yells, during the ceremony." The captain was a witness of it all. The scene of this conflict was at what is now known as Heller's Corners, eleven miles northwest of Fort Wayne, at the point where the Goshen road crosses the Eel river.
On the day of Hardin's defeat the main body of the army had moved down the north bank of the Maumee about two miles and had occupied the Shawnee village of Chillicothe. On the twentieth, Harmar ordered the burning and destruction of every house and wigwam in the town, and censured the "shameful cowardly conduct of the militia who ran away, and threw down their arms without firing scarcely a single gun." He was in a fury, and was now determined to march back to Fort Washington, and on the twenty-first of October the whole army moved back for a distance of seven miles and encamped at a point south and east of the present site of Fort Wayne.
Hardin was chagrined. He determined if possible to retrieve his own credit and that of the Kentucky militia. In the night he approached Harmar. He told the general that the Indians had probably returned to their towns as soon as the army had left them. Now was the time for a grand surprise. Harmar, after much importunity, gave his consent to a second expedition. Late in the night, three hundred and forty picked militiamen and sixty regulars started back for Kekionga. The detachment marched in three columns, the federal troops in the center with Captain Joseph Asheton, a brave officer and a good fighter at their head; the militia were on both flanks. Major John P. Wyllys and Colonel Hardin rode at the front.
The sun has risen, and the advance guards of the small army now ascend the wooded heights overlooking the Maumee. Beyond lie the brown woods, the meadows, and the Indian corn fields. A few savages appear, digging here and there for hidden treasures of corn. All are seemingly unaware of hostile approach. Wyllys now halts the regulars, with the militia in the advance, and forms his plan of battle. Major Hall with his battalion is to swing around the bend of the Maumee, cross the St. Marys and come in on the western side of the Indian towns. There he is to wait for the main attack. Major McMullen's battalion, Major Fontaine's cavalry and Wyllys with his regulars are to cross the ford in front, encompass the savages on the south, east and north, and drive them into the St. Joseph. Hemmed in on all sides, exposed to a murderous crossfire, their escape will be impossible. Strict orders are given that the troops are on no account to separate, but the battalions are to support each other as the circumstances may require.
What a terrible fate awaits the regulars. The Little Turtle had observed that in Trotter's expedition on the morning of the eighteenth, the four field officers of the militia had left their commands to pursue a lone Indian on horseback. As the militia emerge on the northern bank of the Maumee a few warriors expose themselves, and the Kentuckians disregarding all orders, instantly give chase. The Indians fly in all directions, the militia after them, and the regulars are left alone. This is the opportune moment. As the regulars cross the ford and climb the opposite bank, the painted and terrible warriors of the Miami chief arise from their hiding places and fire at close range. Wyllys falls, his officers fall, all but a handful are remorselessly mowed down, scalped and mutilated, and the day is won. Thus for the second time has the cunning Little Turtle completely outwitted his paleface antagonists.
The remaining details of this disordered conflict are soon told. The parties of militia under McMullen and Fontaine, sweeping up the east side of the St. Joseph, drove a party of Indians into the river near the point of the old French fort. Fontaine was hit by a dozen bullets and fell forward in his saddle. The Indians were now caught between Hall's battalion on the west and McMullen's riflemen and Fontaine's cavalry on the east. A brief massacre ensued, and Captain Asheton and two soldiers killed a number of the savages in the water with their bayonets. The red men finally charged on Hall's battalion—it gave way—and they made their escape.
Captain Joseph Asheton in commenting on this last battle at the Maumee, makes the following observation: "If Colonel (Major) Hall, who had gained his ground undiscovered, had not wantonly disobeyed his orders, by firing on a single Indian, the surprise must have been complete." The question of whether there was any surprise at all or not, remains in doubt. The Fort Wayne Manuscript, which possesses some historical value at least, says that about eight hundred Indians were present; three hundred Miamis under the Little Turtle, and a body of five hundred more savages, consisting of Shawnees, Delawares, Potawatomi, Chippewas and Ottawas. That the Shawnees were commanded by Blue Jacket, and the Ottawas and Chippewas by an Ottawa chief named Agaskawak. The battle itself, was skillfully planned on the part of the savages. They must have known that the militiamen were in the vanguard and would cross the Maumee first. They rightly calculated that the impetuosity of the Kentuckians and their lack of discipline, would lead them at once into a headlong charge. This would make the destruction of the regulars comparatively easy and lead to the demoralization of the whole detachment. A plan so well designed as this, and so skillfully executed, is not formed on the instant. Besides, it is not probable that the Little Turtle remained out of touch with the American army while it was in the immediate vicinity of the Indian towns.
On November sixth, Governor St. Clair wrote to the secretary of war that the savages had received "a most terrible stroke." It is true that they had suffered a considerable damage in the burning of their cabins and the destruction of their corn, but the total loss of warriors was only about fifteen or twenty. The American army, on the other hand, had lost one hundred and eighty-three in killed, and thirty-one wounded. Among the slain were Major Wyllys and Lieutenant Ebenezer Frothingham, of the regular troops, and Major Fontaine, Captains Thorp, McMurtrey and Scott, Lieutenants Clark and Rogers, and Ensigns Bridges, Sweet, Higgins and Thielkeld, of the militia.