Title: Crawford's Defeat - A Tale of the Frontier in 1812
Author: Anonymous
Language: English
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                           CRAWFORD’S DEFEAT
                     A TALE OF THE FRONTIER IN 1812


             Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen Country
                                  1954

    [Illustration: Boards of the Public Library of Fort Wayne and Allen
    County]

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

  _B.F. Geyer, President_
  _Joseph E. Kramer, Secretary_
  _W. Page Yarnelle, Treasurer_
  _Mrs. Sadie Fulk Roehrs_
  _Willard Shambaugh_

                 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:

  _James E. Graham_
  _Arthur Nieneier_
  _Mrs. Glenn Henderson_
  _Mrs. Charles Reynolds_



                                FOREWORD


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 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.

    [Illustration: ... 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.

    [Illustration: 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.

    [Illustration: ... 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 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.”

    [Illustration: 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



                          Transcriber’s Notes


—Silently corrected a few typos.

—Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook
  is public-domain in the country of publication.

—In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by
  _underscores_.





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