{FN} In our investigations we have found several cases of cannibalism, but they have always been Canadian Indians, especially the tribes living near lakes Huron and Superior. We believe it was not common.

St. Clair's defeat, with the possible exception of that of Braddock, was the most complete and overwhelming in the annals of Indian warfare. He and his apologists always claimed that he was overpowered by numbers; but as no English historian makes the Indians more numerous than the Americans, some credit must be given to them upon other grounds than the pretext of numerical superiority. Indeed, their attack was conducted with astonishing intrepidity. After the first volley of firearms, they fought every inch of the field hand to hand, with their tomahawks.

The Indians were rich in spoil. They got horses, cattle, tents, guns, axes, powder, bullets, clothing, blankets and a supply of provisions—in short, everything they needed.

Thatcher is responsible for the statement that "an American officer, who encountered a party of thirty Indians near the battle-ground, a day or two after the defeat, and was detained by them till they were made to believe him a friend to their cause, from Canada, was informed that the number of the Indians engaged in the battle was twelve hundred, of whom the larger portion were Miamis, besides half-breeds and renegades, including among the latter the notorious Simon Girty." This officer was also informed that the number killed on the Indian side was fifty-six.

These savages were returning home with their share of the plunder. One of them had a hundred and twenty-seven American scalps, strung on a pole, and the rest were laden with various other articles of different values. They had also three pack-horses, carrying as many kegs of wine and spirits as could be piled on their backs. {FN}


{FN} Perhaps this last statement tends to explain the easy victory of the Indians.

When the remnant of the shattered army reached Fort Washington, St. Clair dispatched his aide, the ever ready Lieut. Ebenezer Denny, to carry the news to Philadelphia, the national capital.

The manner in which the news of this disaster affected Washington is thus described by Mr. Rush. Said he, "Mr. Lear (the President's private secretary) saw a storm was gathering. In the agony of his emotion he (Washington) struck his clenched hands with fearful force against his forehead, and in a paroxysm of anguish exclaimed: 'It's all over! St. Clair's defeated—routed; the officers nearly all killed—the men by wholesale—that brave army cut to pieces—the rout complete! Too shocking to think of—and a surprise in the bargain!' He uttered all this with great vehemence. Then he paused and walked about the room several times, agitated, but saying nothing. Near the door he stopped short and stood still a few seconds; then turning to the secretary, who stood amazed at the spectacle of Washington in all his wrath, he again broke forth:

"'Yes, sir. Here, in this very room, on this very spot, I took leave of him: I wished him success and honor. 'You have your instructions,' I said, 'from the Secretary of War: I had a strict eye to them, and will add but one word—beware of a surprise! I repeat it—beware of a surprise! You know how the Indians fight us. He went off with that as my last solemn warning thrown into his ears. And yet to suffer that army to be cut to pieces, hacked by a surprise—the very thing I guarded him against! 0. God! 0. God! He's worse than a murderer! How can he answer it to his country? The blood of the slain is upon him—the curse of widows and orphans—the curse of heaven!'"