Eight miles above the ford, we passed the ground where the British had encamped the night before. The General directed the advance of Col. Johnson's regiment to accelerate their march for the purpose of ascertaining the distance of the enemy. The officer commanding it, shortly after, sent word back that his progress was stopped by the enemy, who were formed across our line of march.
The army was now within three miles of the Moravian town, and within one mile of the enemy. The road passes through a beech forest without any clearing, and for the first two miles near to the bank of the river. At the distance of fifty rods from the river is a swamp running parallel to it, and extending all the way to the Indian village. The intermediate ground is dry—the surface level; the trees are lofty and thick with very little underwood to impede the progress of man or horse, if we except that part which borders on the swamp.
Across this narrow strip of land, the British force was drawn up in a line of battle, to prevent our advance. Their left resting on the river, was defended by four pieces of cannon—near the centre were two other pieces. Near the swamp the British line was covered by a large Indian force, who also lined the margin of the swamp to a considerable distance. The British troops amounted to 600—the Indians probably to twelve hundred.
As it was not practicable to turn the enemy in flank, it became necessary to attack them in front. General Harrison did not long hesitate in his choice of the mode of attack. It was as novel as it was successful.
The troops at his disposal might amount to three thousand men; yet from the peculiar nature of the ground, not the half of this force could advantageously engage the enemy.
About five hundred regulars, under Colonel Paul, occupied the narrow space between the road and river; they were ordered to advance and amuse the enemy; and, if an opportunity offered, to seize the cannon of the enemy. A small party of friendly Indians were directed to move under the bank. Col. Johnson's regiment was drawn up in close column, with its right at a few yards distant from the road with orders to charge at full speed as soon as the enemy delivered his fire. The Kentucky volunteers, under Major-Gen. Henny, were formed in the rear of the mounted regiment, in three lines, extending from the road to the swamp. Gen. Desha's division covered the left of Johnson's regiment. Gov. Shelby was at the crotchet formed by the front line and Gen. Desha's division. This was an important point. Gen. Cass and Commodore Perry, volunteered as aids to Gen. Harrison, who placed himself at the head of the front line of infantry, to direct the movements of the cavalry, and to give them the necessary support. Such was the order of battle.
The army moved in this order till the mounted men received the fire of the enemy, at the distance of two hundred yards. The charge was beat, in an instant one thousand horse were in motion at full speed—the right led on by lieut. Col. James Johnson broke through the British lines and formed in their rear, the enemy's pieces were unloaded—their bayonets were not fixed—they surrendered at discretion—the whole was the work of a minute. In breaking through their ranks our men killed twelve and wounded 37 of the British regulars. The shock was unexpected. They were not prepared to resist it, some were trampled under the feet of our horses; others were cut down by the soldiers; very few were shot by our men, for our fire was not general. Had the enemy shown the least symptoms of resistance, after we broke through their lines, the greater part would have been destroyed, but they were as passive as sheep. Never was terror more strongly depicted on the countenances of men. Even the officers were seen with uplifted hands, exclaiming "quarter!" There is no doubt, that they expected to be massacred, believing that the Kentuckians would retaliate the bloody scenes of Raisin and Miami; but nothing was farther from their intentions, except it should be on the persons of Proctor and Elliott—these, neither the authority of Harrison nor of Shelby could have saved, if they had been found in battle.
On the left the contest was more serious. Col. Johnson, who commanded on that flank of his regiment received a terrible fire from the Indians, was kept up for some time.—The Col. most gallantly led the head of his column into the hottest of the enemy's fire, and was personally opposed to Tecumseh.—At this point a condensed mass of savages had collected. Yet regardless of danger, he rushed into the midst of them, so thick were the Indians at this moment that several might have reached him with their rifles. He rode a white horse and was known to be an officer of rank; a shower of balls was discharged at him—some took effect—his horse was shot under him—his clothes, his saddle, his person were pierced with bullets. At the moment his horse fell, Tecumseh rushed towards him with an uplifted tomahawk, to give the fatal stroke, but his presence of mind did not forsake him in this perilous predicament—he drew a pistol from his holster and laid his daring opponent dead at his feet. He was unable to do more, the loss of blood deprived him of strength to stand. Fortunately at the moment of Tecumseh's fall the enemy gave way, which secured him from the reach of their tomahawks; he was wounded in five places; he received three shots in the right thigh and two in the left arm. Six Americans and twenty-two Indians fell within twenty yards of the spot where Tecumseh was killed and the trails of blood almost covered the ground.