CHAPTER XIII

THE GREAT LAKES IN THE WAR OF 1812

From the surrender of the northwest posts and the founding of Cleveland to the year 1812, there is little to note in the history of the Great Lakes. The forts were gradually strengthened, the fur trade was continued, and a few settlements were made on the southern shores of Lake Erie and Lake Ontario. Travel and transportation between the Atlantic seaboard and the Great Lakes were so difficult that few settlers found their way into the lake region, and there was no market for such agricultural products as were raised. In the same period the Ohio Valley was fast filling up, and settlers were pushing westward and northward from the Ohio River into central Ohio and Indiana. The ever increasing pressure on the Indians of that region aroused their fears and resentment, and made them listen to the plans of an able chieftain, Tecumseh, who banded them together in a strong league for resistance to the whites. The natives looked for aid to the British in Canada, but how far these had gone in encouraging the Indians is unknown. In 1811 matters became so serious that General William Henry Harrison, Governor of Indiana Territory, marched against the Indians and defeated them in the battle of Tippecanoe. When the War of 1812 began, Tecumseh and many of his allies joined the British.

The opening of the war found the lake frontier of the United States exposed and almost unprotected. At Fort Wayne there were eighty-five soldiers, at Fort Harrison (Terre Haute) fifty, at Fort Dearborn (Chicago) fifty-three, at Fort Mackinac eighty-eight, and at Detroit one hundred and twenty. The last-named post claimed early attention, because of its great importance, and also because of its exposed situation. Its loss to the United States would mean the loss of the upper lakes, at least temporarily. The problem was a difficult one because the United States had no war vessels on the lakes to secure communication between Detroit and the settlements on the southeastern shore of Lake Erie. William Hull, Governor of Michigan Territory, fully recognized the importance of a naval force, but he was obliged to do what he could to defend Detroit without one. In the spring of 1812, with three regiments of Ohio militia, a troop of Ohio dragoons, and a regiment of United States infantry,--in all about sixteen hundred men,--he set out from the settlements in Ohio to march overland to reënforce this important post. The route lay through the wilderness, much of the way over swampy grounds, but the soldiers cut roads and advanced with a rapidity that amazed the British. At Frenchtown, on the River Raisin, forty miles below Detroit, Hull received word that war had been declared. Before this he had sent a schooner to Detroit with supplies and a letter to the commandant apprising him of his coming. This vessel was seized by the British soldiers stationed at Malden, on the Canadian side of the Detroit River, and some distance below the American town.

On the 5th of July, 1812, Hull reached Detroit. Besides its small garrison, the town contained about eight hundred inhabitants. It was defensible from Indian attacks, but was within gunshot of the British side of the Detroit River, was insufficiently supplied with provisions and ammunition for a siege, and was liable to be completely cut off from communication with the United States should the British gain command of Lake Erie and the road along the river to the south. At once, Hull seized the town of Sandwich, opposite Detroit, and issued a proclamation to the inhabitants of Canada which brought many of them over to the American side, but an expedition which was to have reënforced him from Niagara came to naught.

On the British side in the spring of 1812, affairs seemed even more gloomy, but the difficulties were overcome by the capability and courage of one man, Brigadier General Isaac Brock, who exercised entire command in upper Canada. He had at his disposal barely two thousand men, who were hundreds of miles from their supplies and scattered through several posts. When war seemed imminent, Brock fitted out armed vessels on Lake Erie and strengthened the defences of Malden. The moment war was declared, he directed a subordinate to seize the American post at Michilimackinac and himself hurried with all available men to the Detroit River.

Day after day the American army waited at Sandwich before striking a decisive blow at the British in their fort at Malden. General Hull had, indeed, good reason for fear of failure, for although he had more men than the British, the English army had in its fortification a base of attack, and in its fleet a pronounced advantage. With ineffective sallies into the neighboring country and prolonged councils of war the days wore on, and the officers as well as the rank and file of the army became more and more disheartened. They had crossed the river July 12. They finally set August 8 for the attack on Malden; but meanwhile word came that British reënforcements were on their way to the fort, and that a party of Indians under Tecumseh had captured the American supplies and mail-bags coming from Ohio. Prisoners of war from Fort Mackinac arrived at the American camp, announcing that their fort had been surrendered and that a horde of Indians were coming from the Northwest to attack Detroit in the rear. With the British garrison at Malden increased, Detroit threatened by the Indians, and the line of communication between the American army and headquarters in danger, Hull saw nothing to do but to recross the river; and on the night of the day when he had planned to attack the British fort he withdrew with his force to Detroit.

Meanwhile General Brock reached Malden, held a council of war at which Tecumseh with his following of a thousand Indians was present, and sent to General Hull a summons to surrender. Hull refused to yield and started messengers to recall an expedition of three hundred and fifty men which he had despatched under two Ohio colonels, MacArthur and Lewis Cass, to the River Raisin to rescue the necessary supplies for the army. As soon as Hull’s reply was received two British vessels moved up the river to Sandwich, where their guns could cover the American fort. During the night Tecumseh and six hundred Indians crossed to the American side of the river and established themselves in the woods at a point where they could intercept the returning Ohio colonels with their force. On the morning of August 16, General Brock crossed the river with seven hundred soldiers. The British commander had intended to take up a position and force Hull to attack him, but after he reached the American bank of the river, he learned from Tecumseh that the Ohio detachment was only a few miles away. Fearing lest he be surrounded if he delay, Brock determined to make an immediate attack.

Within his tent General Hull sat debating what to do. Should he admit to his officers and men his desire to surrender at once, their undisguised scorn at his previous delays would perhaps turn to open mutiny; yet he felt sure that the fort must ultimately be taken, and he dreaded the loss of life and possible Indian massacre should he hold out. The British column began to advance. Every soldier expected that the heavy American guns which were pointed toward them would be lighted and discharged into their midst; instead, an American was seen advancing from the fort with a white flag. Within an hour, and without the firing of a single shot, the surprised British troops found themselves in possession of Detroit. Hull included in the terms of capitulation not only the troops within the fort but the Ohio detachment now advancing up the river, so that General Brock gained at least twenty-five hundred prisoners of war. The mortification of the country at the whole course of the war vented itself after this surrender upon General Hull, who was really the victim of poor management of the army and lack of support at headquarters. He might have been forced to give up Detroit within a few weeks unless he was reënforced, but he could have kept Brock from returning to harry Niagara in nine days.

Detroit was surrendered on the morning of August 16. On the same day and at the same hour Fort Dearborn at Chicago was being burned by an Indian war-party, after the members of its garrison had been massacred. Two weeks earlier Hull had sent an order to Captain Heald, commander of the fort, to evacuate it if practicable. The Indian runner reached Fort Dearborn on August 9 with this message and with the news of the fall of Fort Mackinac, the receipt of which had been the occasion of Hull’s decision in regard to Chicago.

It had taken the Indian messenger a suspiciously long time to make the journey, and as Indians from a distance began to gather about the fort it was surmised that he had in some way learned the contents of the message, and in particular the clause which directed that Captain Heald deliver up to the Indians all the public property of the garrison, and had told the news along the way. Accounts differ as to what Captain Heald promised to the Indians. According to the story of Mr. Kinzie, a trader in the fort, Captain Heald held a council with them, at which he agreed to divide among them the public property at the fort on condition that they should furnish him with a friendly escort. Unfortunately the two things that the Indians most wanted were ammunition and liquor. These the white men considered it an act of madness to put into their hands, and under cover of night knocked in the heads of the barrels and poured the whiskey into the river, threw powder, bags of shot, and cartridges into the river, and breaking to pieces the muskets and pistols they could not take with them, dropped them into a well. An unknown writer, who was present at the time, distinctly states that Heald objected to this act and argued that it was a bad thing to lie to an Indian. The watchful Indians found out what had been done, and from that time on the older chiefs were unable to restrain the anger of their young men. So many Indians had gathered that the officers became convinced that the tribes had been notified by the messenger from Detroit as he made his trip of the distribution of gifts that was to take place. The supply of blankets, paints, calicoes, and trinkets that were given out did not satisfy the warriors.

On the evening of the 13th of August the garrison was cheered by the arrival from Fort Wayne of Captain William Wells, a famous Indian fighter and uncle of Mrs. Heald, the commander’s wife. This man had had a most romantic life. Born in Kentucky, he had been stolen when a boy of twelve by the Indians and adopted by a chief of the Miamis, whose daughter he had married. He had grown up with the Indians and fought their battles with them as a matter of course, taking part in the engagements with General Harmar and General St. Clair. Discovered by his Kentucky kindred and convinced that he was brother of Captain Samuel Wells, he had been persuaded after a time to return to his own people. He had bidden his Indian father-in-law a dramatic farewell, telling him that in the past they had been friends, but henceforth they must be enemies; but as a matter of fact he had always kept in friendly relation with his former chief and had on one occasion saved his family from being taken prisoners. He had been one of Wayne’s most valuable scouts, and had since occupied the position of Indian agent, first at Chicago and now at Fort Wayne, where he was living with his Indian wife. Hearing of the probable evacuation of Fort Dearborn he had marched thither with all haste, bringing a party of thirty friendly Miamis in the hope that he could be of assistance to his friends and especially to his favorite niece, Mrs. Heald.

On the morning of the 15th of August, at nine o’clock, the soldiers left the fort for their journey of two hundred and eighty miles to Detroit. Without a sign of ill-feeling the Indians bade them good-by, and the little party started along the lake shore. Captain Wells with half his Miamis, all mounted on Indian ponies, led the line. The soldiers of the garrison with the wagons, in which sat the twelve women and twenty children, followed directly behind them, and the remainder of the friendly Miamis brought up the rear. The escort of five hundred furnished by the neighboring tribes kept abreast of the troops until they reached the sand-hills, a quarter of a mile from the fort. There they struck out suddenly into the prairie and disappeared, hurrying forward to prepare an ambuscade.

The little company had proceeded about a mile and a half when Captain Wells was seen to turn and ride back, swinging his hat in a circle above his head, which, in the sign language of the frontier, meant: “We are surrounded by Indians.” As he came nearer he shouted, “We are surrounded. March up on the sand ridges.” All at once, in the language of Mrs. Heald, who left a graphic report, they saw “Indians’ heads sticking up and down again here and there, like turtles out of water.” As the member of the party most experienced in Indian warfare, Captain Wells was immediately put in command. He led the men in a charge up the bank, and with a volley of shot they broke the line of the Indians. A second time they charged, and again the Indians drew back. But though they were beaten in front, they poured in from all sides, captured the horses and baggage, and began to kill the women and children. For fifteen or twenty minutes the fight went on. Captain Wells was here, there, and everywhere. With two pistols and a gun, which he kept reloading with lightning rapidity, he sighted and brought down the warriors in the midst of their wanton work.

Wounded himself and isolated on a mound with a remnant of his men, Captain Heald saw that there was no hope but to surrender. The Indians made signs for him to approach them, and he offered to surrender in the hope of sparing further bloodshed. His own wife was slightly wounded, and Mrs. Helm, the wife of his lieutenant, had only been saved from being tomahawked by the friendly chief, Black Partridge, who seized her from the grasp of her captor, and took her to the water, where he made feint to drown her, but kept her head out until the fight was over. After the surrender Captain Wells rode up, desperately wounded, to send farewell messages to his wife, and was killed on the instant by a group of Indians, who mangled his body horribly. Of the ninety-three in the party but thirty-six were still living. Of the sixty-six fighting men forty-three had been killed, and only seven women and six children survived. Some of the prisoners made their escape, finding their way to safety through a series of hairbreadth adventures; some died in captivity, and others were exchanged at intervals during the next two years. On the spot where the massacre took place,--then out in open prairie, now at the foot of Eighteenth Street in the city of Chicago,--there stands a noble monument to the Fort Dearborn garrison.

With Fort Dearborn and Fort Mackinac abandoned, the last American defences on the western lakes were gone. The boundary line of the United States became the Wabash and Maumee rivers, and the surrender of Detroit made it doubtful whether even that line could be maintained. The hold of the United States on the Great Lakes in August, 1812, looked very uncertain.