At the same time, further down on the flats, Sullivan having heard the report of the guns on the hill, at once ordered an advance along the whole line. With cheers our men rushed over the entrenchments, and then a running fight of several miles, indeed all the way into the limits of the modern city of Elmira, ensued. Nevertheless the enemy were able to escape, being much more familiar with the country. They carried away their wounded in canoes up the river, and made off with, or concealed some of the bodies of their dead.
The battlefield was fully occupied by our trains and camp, and about six o’clock in the afternoon, when the pursuit stopped, three cheers told the story of another American victory. The known loss of the enemy was thirteen whites and many Indians. Twenty-six corpses of red men were found upon the field. Two prisoners, one a negro and one a Tory with his face painted black, were taken. General Sullivan reported three killed and twenty-nine wounded, five of whom afterwards died. All the patriot dead and most of the wounded were New Hampshire men, and all the casualties except four were in Poor’s brigade, Reid’s regiment suffering the worst.
In reality this was one of the great decisive battles of the Revolution, for it broke forever the power of the Iroquois. Throughout the war, except in small parties, neither Tories nor savages were able to gather for raids. As a military factor the warriors of the Six Nations never again appeared in or with an army. Sullivan and his soldiers had ended the flank attacks on the army, and opened the way for civilization into western New York and Pennsylvania. Indeed, for over half a century, or until the railways dictated the lines of travel, “Sullivan’s Road” was the main highway into New York from Pennsylvania.
CHAPTER VI
IN THE WONDERFUL LAKE REGION
It began to rain on Sunday shortly after the battle firing was over, and the next day, Monday, August 30, was a day of rest.
It was also necessary, in consequence of the very poor and insufficient provisions, as well as the want of enough pack horses, to cut down to one-half the rations of flour, salt and meat. However, as the country through which they were to march was rich in vegetable food, Sullivan issued orders, stating the facts, and asking that “the troops will please to consider the matter and give their opinion as soon as possible.” So late that afternoon the whole army was drawn up in the separate brigades and regiments. Then the question was put whether they would advance, taking the risk of hunger.
“Without a dissenting voice, the whole army cheerfully agreed to the request of the General, which was signified by unanimously holding up their hands and giving three cheers.” Neither the remembered horrors of Valley Forge, nor the risk of possible starvation could discourage the army. With many a laugh and joke, the men moved forward to their “Succotash Campaign.” They were happy to know that the heavier artillery, the two howitzers and brace of six pounders were to be sent back. The labor of drawing ammunition wagons and heavy cannon up and down hills would be much reduced. Nevertheless, the four three pounders and caissons, taken along with the Coehorn, meant much chopping in the woods to make a path.
On Tuesday, the line of march was taken up through the broken, swampy, and mountainous country. For their night’s camp the men were happy to find a level plain, but the next day they had to go through Bear Swamp, which was then a horrible dark quagmire six miles long. Having a clay bottom, the black mire held the water which flowed tortuously through the spongy soil, in which the vegetation of centuries had made a peaty mass, which the recent rains had made as unstable as a jelly and slippery as soap. Here was the divide of waters between the Susquehanna and the Saint Lawrence rivers, flowing into the Atlantic at Labrador or Hatteras. The Indian trail through this soggy country passed through defiles, over mounds and through ravine after ravine, rough and scrubby, while through all meandered a stream of dark water. Only with the most tremendous toil were the Continentals able to get through, and the rear guard did not reach hard ground until long after noon next day. The cannon were pulled through only by the toil of hundreds of men at the drag ropes, or by laying on the worst places corduroy, or a rough road of trees and brushwood. Many horses were mired and abandoned, and scores of packs with precious bags of flour and ammunition were lost. Altogether it was a most terrible experience, much worse than in the Pennsylvania swamp, called “The Shades of Death,” which they had traversed.
For years afterwards, that horrible night formed the blackest memory and gave the most disturbing element to the dreams of the old soldiers. In our time, as we travel through this drained and dry valley between the green walls of the hills on either side, we wonder as we look over the celery gardens where Bear Swamp was. Within half a century after Sullivan’s march and return, the forests were cleared and the Chemung canal, bearing millions of cubic feet of timber to the great cities, and especially to build the Maryland privateers for the War of 1812, traversed and drained the swamp. To-day smiling farms and vegetable gardens on either side of the well laid beds of the steam railway and electric trolley line fill the sunny and beautiful valley.
Just beyond this horrible swamp of 1779 lay the village of Sheaquaga, or “French Catherine’s town,” three miles from Seneca Lake, on the site of the present town of Havana, or Montour Falls. It was the capital of the Indian Queen Catherine Montour, and contained her “palace.” It consisted of about forty “long,” or apartment, houses of timber and bark, with splendid cornfields, orchards, and fenced enclosures, in which were horses, cows, calves and hogs. It looked as though the army would have, for a little while at least, meat rations. Here had been the home of Catherine, sister of Queen Esther and granddaughter of Adam Montour, who was the offspring of Count Frontenac. A Dutch family had also lived here among the Indians. It seemed strange to our men to find feather beds and other evidences of civilization so far in the wilderness. Some of it was the plunder from Cherry Valley and Wyoming.