Early on the morning of the 10th of October, two of Lewis's scouts, who were about a mile in advance, were fired upon by a large body of Indians; one of the scouts was killed, and the other escaped to camp with the intelligence. It was yet half an hour to sunrise, and instant dispositions were made to move forward and attack. Just as the sun was rising, the Indians, who were advancing upon a like errand, were met, and an engagement ensued, which continued with greater or less severity through the day. The Virginians had bivouacked upon a point of land between the two rivers, giving the Indians an important advantage of position, inasmuch as, if defeated, retreat would be impossible for the former, while the latter could fly at their pleasure. But such was not the purpose of the Indians. Their numbers have been variously stated, from eight to fifteen hundred, consisting of Shawanese, Delawares, Mingoes, Wyandots, Cayugas, and several other tribes, led in chief by Logan, assisted by other celebrated chiefs, among whom were Cornstock, Ellenipsico, (his son,) and the Red Eagle.
The onset was impetuous upon both sides. Colonel Charles Lewis led the right of the Virginians, and was in advance. He fell almost at the first fire, mortally wounded, and shortly afterward expired—having walked back to his own camp. The Virginians, like the Indians, sought every advantage by fighting from the shelter of trees and bushes; but in the first part of the engagement the advantages were with the Indians, and two of the Virginia regiments, after severe loss, especially in officers, were compelled to give way. Colonel Fleming, who commanded the left, though severely wounded in the beginning of the action, by two balls through his arm and another through the breast, bravely kept the field for some time, cheering his men, and, urging them not to lose an inch of ground, directed them to outflank the enemy. But the assault of the Indians was vigorous and their fire so severe, that the left, like the right, was yielding, when, at the most critical moment, Colonel Field's regiment was brought with great spirit and resolution into the action, by which timely movement the fortunes of the day were retrieved. The impetuosity of the Indians was checked, and they were in turn forced to retreat—falling back to avail themselves of a rude breast-work of logs and brush-wood, which they had taken the precaution to construct for the occasion. Colonel Field was killed at the moment his gallant regiment had changed the aspect of the battle, and he was succeeded by Captain Isaac Shelby, afterward the brave and hardy old Governor of Kentucky.
The Indians made a valiant stand at their breast-work, defending their position until nearly night-fall. For several hours every attempt to dislodge them was unsuccessful; the savages fighting like men who had not only their soil and homes to protect, but deep wrongs to avenge. "The voice of the mighty Cornstock was often heard during the day, above the din of battle, calling out to his warriors, 'Be strong! Be strong!' And when, by the repeated charge of the Virginians, some of his warriors began to waver, he is said to have sunk his tomahawk into the head of a coward who was attempting to fly." [FN]
[FN] Drake—who compiles his account of this spirited engagement, from Withers, McClung, and Doddridge.
The action had continued extremely hot until past twelve o'clock, after which it was abated at intervals, though a scattering fire was kept up most of the time during the day, Toward night, finding that each successive attack upon the line of the Indians in front but weakened his own force, without making any perceptible impression upon the Indians, and rightly judging that if the latter were not routed before dark, the contest must be resumed under at least doubtful circumstances on the following day, a final attempt was made to throw a body of troops into the rear. Three companies were detached upon this service, led by Captain Shelby. The ground favoured the enterprise. Availing themselves of the tall weeds and grass upon the bank of a creek flowing into the Kanhawa, those companies passed the flank of the Indian ranks unobserved, and falling vigorously upon their rear, drove them from their lines with precipitation. Night came on, and the Indians, supposing that reinforcements of the Virginians had arrived, fled across the Ohio, and continued their retreat to the Scioto. They had not the satisfaction of taking many scalps—the bodies of a few stragglers only falling into their possession. In the official account it was stated that they scalped numbers of their own warriors, to prevent the Virginians from doing it. Of those Indians first killed, the Virginians scalped upward of twenty. [FN-1] The loss of the Indians was never known. It must, however, have been severe; since, in addition to the killed and wounded borne away, numbers of the slain were thrown into the river, and thirty-three of their warriors were found dead upon the field on the following day. The loss of the Virginians was likewise severe. Two of their colonels were killed, four captains, many subordinate officers, and between fifty and sixty privates, besides a much larger number wounded.[FN-2]
[FN-1] Official Report.
[FN-2] Doddridge states the number of killed at 75, and of wounded at 140. In the estimate given in the text, Thatcher has been followed. It is stated by Drake, that a stratagem was resorted to in this action by the Virginians, similar to one that had been practised in the early New England war of the Indians at Pawtucket. The Virginians, concealing themselves behind trees, would hold out their hats from behind and draw the fire of the Indians; the hat being instantly dropped, the Indian warrior who had brought it down, supposing that he had killed the owner, would rush forward to secure the scalp of his supposed victim—only to fall beneath an unexpected tomahawk.
Arrived at Chilicothe, a council of the Indians was convened to debate upon the question what was next to be done. Cornstock, it was said, had been opposed to giving battle at Point Pleasant, but had resolved to do his best on being overruled in council. Having been defeated, as he had anticipated, he demanded of the council, "What shall we do now? The Long Knives are coming upon us by two routes. Shall we turn out and fight them?" No response being made to the question, he continued, "Shall we kill all our squaws and children, and then fight until we are all killed ourselves?" As before, all were silent; whereupon Cornstock struck his tomahawk into the war-post standing in the midst of the council, and remarked with emphasis: "Since you are not inclined to fight, I will go and make peace." [FN] Saying which, he repaired to the camp of Lord Dunmore, who, having descended the Ohio, was now approaching the Scioto.