Seventy-fifth Day.
Strong's Hotel,
Monroe, Michigan,
July Twenty-fifth.
Wrote to my mother in the morning, and after dinner took a stroll about town. Beyond its associations with Custer, Monroe is interesting through its connection with one of the most romantic and sanguinary scenes connected with the war between Great Britain and the United States; for on the banks of the River Raisin, which runs through it to the lake, occurred the famous Indian massacre of 1812. Relics of the bloody encounter are still found on the field.
It was at a time when the British were making successful inroads upon Michigan, and General Winchester, at the head of eight hundred Kentuckians, had been ordered to Frenchtown, the old name for Monroe, the same point toward which General Miller had previously moved on a mission equally fatal.
Winchester was warned of the advance of the enemy, but thought there was no cause for immediate alarm, and on the night before the engagement, he crossed to the side of the river opposite his men, leaving the camp open to attack. The result was, that he awoke the next morning to find Proctor's troops putting his men to rout, at the point of the bayonet, while their Indian allies were adding to the confusion by their deadly assault.
Although a part of the Americans escaped on the ice of the river, the field was covered with their dead and wounded, General Winchester being among the former. When the engagement was over, Proctor rode away, leaving a detachment to guard the prisoners and wounded, with instructions that no violence was to be committed; but some of the savages who followed him having become intoxicated, returned and fell upon the prisoners with unrestrained frenzy. Most of the latter had been placed in two small cabins. These were fired, and the victims perished in the flames, the Indians pushing them back when they attempted to escape through the small windows. The remainder were massacred and their bodies left a prey to the wolves. It was this horrible affair that aroused the Americans and particularly the Kentuckians to revenge; and when Tecumseh, the Shawnee warrior, who was the chief instigator of these atrocities, urged the British to hazard an engagement at the Thames, after their defeat by Perry, they prepared to return with full interest the blow given their comrades on the Raisin. The battle of the Thames is well known. Tecumseh, with the war cry on his lips, met his reward through a Kentucky bullet early enough in the fight to be spared the shame of defeat. With him fell a powerful foe, but one whom we must admire even in his death.
"Like monumental bronze, unchanged his look,
As one whom pity touched, but never shook;
Train'd from his tree-rocked cradle to his bier
The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook.
Unchanging, fearing but the shame of fear,
A stoic of the woods, a man without a tear."