“Here I met Captain J. S. Gano, who was unarmed. I handed him the rifle I had gone into the battle with, and I told him that we were defeated and would have to make our escape as speedily as possible. If we escaped, we would need the rifles for subsistence in the woods. While the battle still raged, a group of soldiers had gathered together, but they did little more than present targets for the enemy. The soldiers appeared stupefied and bewildered. At another spot a group of soldiers had broken into the officers’ marquees and were eating the breakfast from which the officers had been called. It must be remembered that neither officers nor men had eaten anything the whole morning. Some of the men were shot down in the very act of eating.
“Just where I then stood, no Indians were visible, although their rifle balls were striking all around. At last I saw an Indian dash for a tree about forty yards off. From this protection he loaded and fired four times, bringing down his man at every shot. He fired too quickly to give me a chance to aim at him. At length I got a range of two inches inside his backbone and blazed away; down he fell, and I saw no more of him.
“A short time later I heard the cry given by St. Clair and his adjutant sergeant to charge to the road. I ran through the disorganized army to where I had left my relative, Captain Piatt, and I told him that the army was broken up and in full retreat. ‘Don’t say so,’ he replied. ‘You will discourage my men, and I can’t believe it.’ I persisted a short time, but finding him obstinate, I said, ‘If you will rush your fate, in God’s name do it!’ I then ran off toward the rear of the army, which was rapidly retreating.
“Piatt called, ‘Wait for me!’ It was no use to stop, for by this time the savages were hardly twenty yards behind me. Being uncommonly active in those days, I soon got from the rear to the front of the troops; but I had great trouble in avoiding the bayonets which the retreating men had thrown down with the sharp points toward their pursuers.
“It has been stated that the Indians followed us for thirty miles, but this is not true. My duty as surveyor led me to mark the miles every day we proceeded on our march, and it was therefore easy to ascertain how far we were pursued. The Indians, after every other fire, fell back to load their rifles and regained the lost distance by running on afresh.
“Even during the last charge of Colonel Darke, the bodies of the dead and dying were shrouded with smoke and in the heavy morning frost looked like so many pumpkins in a cornfield in December. It was on the fourth of November, and the day was severely cold for the season. My fingers became so benumbed at times that I had to take the bullets in my mouth and load from it, while I had the wiping rod in my hand to force them down.”
The map of the battleground is taken from the survey of John S. Houston of Celina. The localities were pointed out to him by Mr. McDowell, who was in the action and who is now living near Fort Recovery. In a letter headed Celina, March 20, 1847, Mr. Houston reported on a conversation with Mr. McDowell.
“Mr. McDowell states that on the morning of the battle he and several others had just gone out to look after their horses when suddenly they heard discharges of musketry and the most hideous yells from the opposite side of the river. Instantly, he rushed to camp where his regiment was preparing for action. He joined them and gallantly charged the enemy. On the retreat he was among those who defended the rear and kept the enemy in check for several miles. The ground was covered with a slushy snow which greatly retarded their progress. After a while many soldiers became so dispirited and hungry—having eaten no breakfast—that they threw down their arms and made their way as best they could among the retreating crowd.
“About this time, Mr. McDowell saw a mother carrying her year-old infant. She was so tired that she was about to fall by the wayside when he took the child and carried it some distance. Afterward, to save her own life, the woman left the child in the snow. The Indians carried it to the Sandusky towns and reared it. Soon after this, McDowell overtook a youth about eighteen years old who was hobbling along, wounded in the leg. McDowell gave him a drink of spirits and a little bread, although he himself had not had time to eat. This refreshed and encouraged the young man; and when a pony came dashing by, McDowell caught it and mounted the young soldier upon it. In this way the youth reached the fort safely.
