Title: Crawford's Defeat: A Tale of the Frontier in 1812
Creator: Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen County
Release date: March 7, 2021 [eBook #64730]
Language: English
Credits: Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Prepared by the Staff of the
Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen County
1954
One of a historical series, this pamphlet is published under the direction of the governing Boards of the Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen County.
BOARD OF TRUSTEES OF THE SCHOOL CITY OF FORT WAYNE
PUBLIC LIBRARY BOARD FOR ALLEN COUNTY
The members of this Board include the members of the Board of Trustees of the School City of Fort Wayne (with the same officers) together with the following citizens chosen from Allen County outside the corporate City of Fort Wayne:
During the early days on the Midwestern frontier, especially during the War of 1812 and the concurrent Indian warfare, terror was easily spread through settlements and villages by rumors of nearby redskins. Raids were frequent, and the horrors of Indian warfare made even the boldest men fear for their lives and for the lives of their loved ones. But even in the midst of danger, a practical joke was not unappreciated. Such was the setting for the following incident, retold in the INDIANA STATE GAZETTE of November 19, 1829.
The Boards and the Staff of the Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen County present this account as an example of a type of humor found in Midwestern pioneer life. Personal and place names are spelled as in the original narrative. Grammar, spelling, and punctuation have been changed to conform to current usage.
There will be few old residents of Ohio, especially those who early settled in Knox, Richland, and Franklin counties and the counties north and west of them, who will not readily recall to mind the consternation that was frequently felt in neighborhoods and villages along the frontier during the eventful year of 1812. The situation of the towns and settlements in the counties above named was dangerous owing to their easy access from the Indian villages of the wild northwestern parts of the state. The inhabitants were subjected to a kind of border warfare and were exposed to much depredation and bloodshed.
Both before and after the surrender of our army at Detroit by General Hull, the Indians received encouragement and protection from the British forts in Canada. Irritated by the rapid and progressive encroachment upon their territories by the enterprising citizens of the states, they made frequent raids, sometimes firing barns and driving off cattle. In many instances they massacred or captured whole families. Bloody scenes of this kind were described daily by visiting hunters and scouts, and the horrors of the tomahawk and the scalping knife continually preyed upon the minds of our wives and children. The relation of these tales of savage cruelty, the note of preparations for war that then sounded through all our country, the daily sound of the drum and fife in our streets, the turning out of volunteers, and the enrolling of drafted men—all produced a feverish excitement in the mind of the public.
In the midst of the general feeling of patriotism that pervaded the sons of Ohio, we could frequently discover the thrill of terror as our eyes turned upon home and we thought of the defenseless situation in which we had left our families. With these excitements and with such a state of public feeling, slight appearances of danger were frequently sufficient to throw a whole neighborhood or village into a state of consternation.
On a fine afternoon in the month of May, 1812, a number of neighbors had assembled to assist at a logrolling on a farm a little south of the now flourishing town of Mount Vernon. The dangers with which they were surrounded and 2 the fears and apprehensions that the Indians might make a descent upon the settlement became common subjects of conversation with them. And as the whisky was freely circulated and the men’s blood became warmed, there arose some fine bursts of patriotism and boasts of personal bravery.
“Let me but see the moccasin track of an Indian near Mount Vernon,” said Archibald Crawford, “and damn my eyes, give me but a good rifle, and I’ll soon drive them into the woods again!”
“Nay now, Archie Crawford,” said another who joined in the conversation. “We ought not to brag too high until we have been proved. How would your temper stand the welding heat? Suppose you were attacked by two at once?”
“How? Why, well, never fear me,” rejoined the other. “If my ammunition failed, or if my gun was taken from me, I’d so lay about me with these sledge hammers that they would soon give up the game. Why, I’ll tell you what it is, Emmett: these Indians are not so brave as you think. Besides, we fight for our country. And damn my eyes, but I believe that with Captain Walker’s Company, I could drive a regiment of them back to Sandusky.”
A general burst of laughter followed this high-toned declaration of personal bravery, and the labors of the day were resumed. Evening at length drew on; and the company, having taken the parting glass, began to separate. A little after dusk Archibald Crawford was on his way to Mount Vernon, where he resided. He crossed Dry Creek just above its confluence with the waters of Owl Creek, where they form what is now known as the Vernon River. Whistling the then familiar tune of “White Cockade,” he proceeded directly toward the footbridge that led across Owl Creek into the town.
Suddenly, from behind a clump of sycamores that may yet be seen near the bank of the creek, two able-bodied red warriors sprang out and, with the cry of “Wah!” instantly seized him. Their language, dress, and accouterments, together with the general war cry that seemed to be raised in his ears, confirmed his belief that he was surrounded by British and Indians. After a few wild screams and some of the most desperate plunges and struggles that perhaps were ever made by mortal man, Crawford succeeded in disengaging himself from the iron grasp of the savages. He had the advantage of being well acquainted with the ground and the ford of the river, and his speed soon brought him to the little collection of houses that then constituted the town of Mount Vernon.
... give me but a good rifle ...
The inhabitants of this village had been frequently alarmed by the appearance of Indians in the vicinity. The town’s exposed situation was such that the authorities were subsequently justified in quartering a small detachment of soldiers there for protection. The main street is now an unbroken street more than half a mile in length, lined with well-built brick and frame houses. The main street was then only a short street of a small hamlet, lined with wretched, temporary buildings. The whole military strength of the county, now forming a full brigade, was then not sufficient to constitute a regiment; it was formed into a separate, small battalion under the command of Major Kratzer. But the military glory and pride of the inhabitants rested in a fairly well-organized company of riflemen, who wore uniforms of blue linsey hunting shirts and were commanded by Captain Joseph Walker, and in an inconsiderable company of light horsemen under the command of Captain Ankeny.
A small, square log house, standing on the point of a gentle hill, served as the principal tavern, storehouse, camp, and garrison. It was a general place of resort for all the village politicians, and it served as a general place of refuge when danger approached. Late in the evening a small party stood about the door of this important mansion, discussing the signs of the times and the fearful omens of the great comet, when Archibald Crawford burst in upon them, pale and breathless.
The terror that was depicted upon his countenance immediately ran through the whole company. And when they heard the whole tale of horror, amplified by the eloquence of excessive fright and confirmed by the oaths and protestations of Crawford, who swore that he had distinctly smelled the tawny skins and greasy blankets of the savages who had attacked him, no pen could describe their consternation. The thing appeared to be plain. A band of Indians, or perhaps British and Indians, had taken ambush in the bottom adjacent to the village and were only waiting for the dead of night, when they might rush in to plunder and massacre the defenseless inhabitants. The scalps and prisoners of some twenty or thirty families would be a rich booty when taken to Malden, and there was nothing to intercept the return of the depredators thither. In this conclusion all were agreed. And it was with sickening horror that the honest villager contemplated the plight of his family and the distress that was expected to take place soon.
Crawford burst in upon them.
The alarm no sooner became general than the cry of “To garrison! To garrison!” passed from house to house; and in a few moments women and children might be seen clinging to their husbands, fathers, or brothers, making their utmost speed along the uneven pathways or streets that led to the town hall. Here might be seen all ages of both sexes—men, women, and children—stowed into the garrison. Some were expressing the utmost agony of fear; others were swelling with patriotism as danger seemed to hover around them; some were crying; some were laughing; some were swearing and drinking, reckless of the storm of war. And some, possessing more nerve and military presence of mind, were busily employed in mustering the forces of the town.
The strong and commanding voice of Major Kratzer was frequently heard, as he calmly and decisively summoned the strong and able-bodied settlers. These came armed with rifles, shotguns, cutlasses, old swords, pitchforks, spears, clubs, and also tomahawks and scalping knives. The promptitude with which all classes assembled for their common defense, the roll of the drum and the shrill notes of the fife, the hoarse cry of “To horse!” by Captain Ankeny, and the sound of the tin trumpet—all had a tendency to dispel the gloom of the night and to excite in the bosoms of the inhabitants a sudden gleam of military ardor and confidence in their safety. Instances of heroic spirit were not wanting among the females, many of whom, though until recently unused to the sound of the tocsin, met the approach of danger with fortitude and a determined spirit of resistance.
... clinging to their husbands ...
The women and children, safely lodged in the garrison, were left under the protection of the old men and a few others who were considered unable for harder service; the rest of the assembled forces scoured the adjacent woods and kept watch around the village until morning. The Indians did not make an appearance. Captain Walker, who by this time had placed himself at the head of his trusty riflemen, proposed to repair to the scene of the scuffle between Crawford and the Indians, to pick up their trail, and to pursue them. As Walker was an old hunter and well acquainted with the woods and with the habits of the Indians, his proposition was immediately heeded. The sun had scarcely tinged the young foliage of the elms and tall sycamores that grow upon the margin of the stream when the party assembled upon the spot pointed out by Crawford as the place where he had been attacked. True, there could not be discovered any remnants of Indian clothing, nor did the rank grass or beaten path permit them to discover distinct moccasin tracks. But there were the most undeniable proofs of a desperate struggle having taken place there; the buttons torn from Crawford’s coat and other pieces of his dress which were picked up on the spot confirmed the truth of his story.
“Why did you not drive them back to Sandusky, Archie Crawford?” cooly inquired someone near him. Crawford turned and discovered Emmett surveying the scene with an air of carelessness, while a sarcastic smile played upon his hardy features.
“Would you have one man drive a whole band of savages?” replied the other, somewhat nettled at the question. “And they armed with rifle, tomahawk, and scalping knife? A man must not throw away his life at a time when his country may have need of his assistance.” And with this patriotic remark he turned away.
Not being able to trace the trail of the Indians, the party returned to the garrison and made a report of their discoveries. After a hasty breakfast, a council was held. It was determined that the whole force of the town, or as many men as could be spared, should be divided into different 9 reconnoitering parties. These groups, taking different directions, should put the neighboring settlers upon their guard and should endeavor to discover the retreat of the hostile party. Accordingly, the military part of the force was divided into small detachments which took different directions. They had instructions to return in the evening and make a report of their discoveries.
In the meantime, the other villagers in small parties continued to ramble through the woods within the vicinity of the town, endeavoring to discover some trace of the retreating party of Indians. As Emmett and another townsman were strolling through the rich bottoms near a place called the Indian fields, a little below Mount Vernon on the south side of the river, the conversation naturally turned upon the incidents of the preceding night. Emmett turned to his companion with a hearty laugh, requested him to sit down on a log nearby, and said he would disclose to him the whole cause of the alarm. When his companion was seated, Emmett proceeded to tell him about the logrolling and the boastings of Crawford as to his personal courage.
“Believing that his heart would quail if put to the test, notwithstanding his pretensions of bravery,” continued Emmett, “another man and I entered into conspiracy against him. Our object was to play a joke upon him and to put his fortitude to a trial. We accordingly waited until he had started homeward. Then, having in some small degree disguised ourselves, and having taken a hasty circuitous route, we came into the road some distance before him and concealed ourselves behind the clump of trees on the margin of Dry Creek. Our plan succeeded beyond our expectation. We gave the poor fellow a greater fright than was intended. The joke succeeded so well that when we discovered the course it was about to take, we determined to enjoy it longer.”
and he would disclose to him the whole cause of the alarm
This disclosure being made, the two enjoyed some merriment at the expense of Crawford and the deluded villagers. Then they laid themselves down in the shade to await the arrival of the appointed time for making their report. In the evening the different parties returned, bringing the joyful intelligence that the enemy had certainly fled from the settlement, as no trace of them could be found. The inhabitants returned to their places of residence and again enjoyed peaceful slumber. And it was not until after the lapse of several weeks that the deception and trick that had been so successfully played upon Crawford, and, indeed, upon the whole village, became generally known. But as the ruse was intended more particularly for one person, and as the excitement had passed, most of the inhabitants joined in the enjoyment of the joke. By common consent the affair was dubbed “Crawford’s Defeat,” under which name the circumstance, with all the incidents herein related, is yet well remembered by the old residents of this place.
INDIANA STATE GAZETTE, November 19, 1829