Had the reader of these words been standing at the mouth of Yellow Creek, about the first week in May, 1791, he would have seen a nondescript army of Indian fighters floating on their way down the Ohio, to Fort Washington (which had been built two years earlier), where Cincinnati–then called Losantiville–(literally L-os-anti-ville) is now located.

Major General Richard BUTLER had recruited these two thousand troops at Fort Fayette, near Pittsburgh, at the call of Major General ST. CLAIR, ; then the governor of the "Territory of the United States Northwest of the Ohio." At the town of Pittsburgh these :"raw recruits gathered from streets and jails" were loaded on ninety-five flat boats with all their equipment. There was much delay in starting due to the War Department, but St. Clair always felt that the latter would soon meet up with the army stores needed, besides he was anxious to test his might with the savages.

At last, they were on their way to the Indian country to force the restless Reds to make and keep the peace.

When they reached Fort Washington, St. Clair found his army stores were in a frightful condition–at least what little he had–so that another vexatious delay was caused, to remake and repair guns, cartridge boxes, axes, camp kettles, knapsacks and splints for the wounded. All this time he knew the time of service for his six month levies would shortly expire; because of this fact the War Department was urging him to move on the Indians. Soon he found the clothing was nearly worthless, the tents rotten, and his supply of food both deficient in quantity and quality. So poor was the entire army supplies, that at the sight of it General HARMER was surprised to think St. Clair would start out with it.

The quality of the soldiers not being very high, they soon drifted into idleness, debauchery, drunkenness and soon vice, so that discipline was lax. St. Clair tried hanging a few of his worst offenders, but this did not help much to stimulate morale.

St. Clair reached Fort Washington May 15, 1791, where he expected the troops from Kentucky. They were so late in arriving, that the march towards the Indian country did not start until September 17, 1791–two months after he had expected to start towards the Indian warriors’ fighting ground. Even now, the army discipline chaotic, many military stores lacking, he was constantly urged on from the War Department to move. So he moved out of Fort Washington to Ludlow station, six miles away, all the time hoping the tardy war supplies would reach him at this latter camp. Here his entire army consisted of 2,300 men (exclusive of militia), so he moved towards the Great Miami and Fort Hamilton. The supplies did not catch up with his army here, and knowing that cold weather was around the corner, he left Fort Hamilton October 24, to march through the wilderness, a distance of twenty miles, where they built Fort Jefferson.

While at Fort Jefferson some trouble was started by 60 or 70 militia whose time had expired, deserting and starting for homE, threatening to pillage any supply trains, that they would meet on the trail. These militia receiving a pay of $2.00 per month, a historian of that time notes, were poor stuff for soldiers, for many enlisted to be fed and clothed, while many enlisted because they could no longer live unhung any other way.

St. Clair did not lessen his trouble when he sent Col. John Franklin HAMTRANCK (the one who built Fort Stueben in 1786) and his entire first regiment of his best troops back to capture these deserters, and hurry forward the lagging army supplies, now so urgently needed.

St. Clair, hoping all would be well, moved forward with the remaining 1,400 men now left. Here he saw his next mistake was that, as he had no surveyor with him, he became confused in his location, and while he thought he was on a branch of the St. Mary’s River, he was at an entirely new spot on the Wabash River.

Food was short, grumbling heard on all sides, the general lost. St. Clair ordered his dissatisfied men to halt and rest for the night. He arranged his men in position for any Indian attack at that time, and here he expected to remain until Col. Hamtranck. John Franklin; and the belated supplies should reach him. Also, while here he expected on the next morning to begin a new defense work at this location, but this plan was never consummated.

Being now in the heart of the Indian country, anything could be expected, and at any moment. As it was the favorite Indian custom to attack at daybreak, St. Clair arranged for that act by quietly drawing his men under arms at midnight, and then await the coming of that usual critical moment at the first break of day.

Early that morning he had, so he reported, sent out scouts to scour the chilly, snowy woods, but they returned with the word that they could find no signs of any impending danger, or immediate clash with the red savages.

At daybreak he dismissed the companies for a little rest and sleep, and to get a bite to eat, when the gates of hell broke loose and wide open. Three thousand howling, blood thirsty, red panthers bore down on the army bent on wiping it completely off the earth, and they nearly succeeded in so doing.

St. Clair immediately ordered the drums to beat assembly. The men quickly fell into orderly formation, and were in battle position in two or three minutes.

The Indians attacked the militia first, and these gave away under the tremendous pressure, and fell back in wild disorder. In this confusion they broke into a run and plunged right in among the regulars, so that little could be done by the latter to hold their lines, or in any way protect themselves. By this time the whole army was a mass of frenzied men, dumb with fear. Seeing this fear, and noting the futile efforts of the officers to get some semblance of order out of complete chaos, the Indians kept up the pressure, and centered their drive forward towards the artillery, which St. Clair had correctly placed in the center and were making complete havoc.

The brave men handling the artillery were quickly mowed down. The artillery horses were no sooner brought up until they were promptly killed. The battle seemed hopeless.

Col. William DARKE noting the red devils point of attack although himself wounded through the arm and leg, finally forced by sheer strength, a few dazed soldiers to help him charge the excited Indians with the bayonet, with good results; but as the other officers could not collect enough troops to support him and hold his gains, he had to give way only to find the infuriated savages crowding in behind his men. Major BUTLER, and Major CLARK after seeing Darke. William;’s partial success, finally forced a few rifle men to attempt the bayonet-cold steel remedy–when the Indians were crowded back but, with heavy losses on both sides. They soon saw the effort would have to end in failure, for the red villains were now crowding in from all sides with success.

During this terrible bloody life and death struggle occurred an incident, serious at the time, that proved slightly amusing afterwards. Col. Darke. William; got shot in the knee cap by one of these red warriors. The wound proved at the time so excruciatingly painful that the colonel shouted and swore at the top of his voice with the agony, and declared the pain would kill him. While he was rolling and groaning with the knee injury, the men could see Col. Butler in the thick of the fray with his useless broken arm, directing the bayonet charge. Even after Col. Butler went down the mortal wound in his chest, he ordered another soldier at his side, but wounded through both legs, to load his musket. He caused many a redskin to bite the dust, but he died fighting to the very last.

Although St. Clair and General Butler disagreed during the campaign, when St. Clair heard of his being wounded, he sent Ebenezer DENNY to inquire how Butler was. But as the time of Denny’s arrival was shortly after Col. Darke’s knee cap wound, and even though Butler, was propped up with knapsacks he was laughing hilariously at Darke’s yelling and cursing. Denny concluded he was not badly wounded and so reported to St. Clair. Gen. Butler had two other brothers in this battle, Major Thomas was wounded also and carried from the field by his brother Captain Edward. The reason he carried this brother from the field was because he was not so heavy as was General Butler, and of this incident Edward later said, "We left the worthiest of brothers in the hands of savages, nearly dead."

By this time all the artillery men and their horses were laying in a heap beside their guns–in fact half the army was killed, when retreat was the only remedy to save complete annihilation.

This conclusion was arrived at, but as they were completely surrounded, the question was which direction to move. The entire army now left was a milling, fear crazed mob in the center of howling Indians.

St. Clair ordered Colonel Darke, an officer he could depend on, to cut a passage way for the army to rush through. This the doughty Colonel did with dash, bravery and of such ferocity, that even these red devils were dumbfounded by its violence and swiftness. The order to retreat was given, but in the flight the wounded were forgotten, guns and ammunition thrown away, the women left to look after themselves–a fearful scramble and trampling of those unable to get out of the path of retreat–a route that continued for twenty-nine miles–ending at Fort Jefferson, where they neither met the convoy of army supplies, nor the deserting six month levies, let alone Col. Hamtranck and his first regiment. In this letter carried by Lieutenant Denny, St. Clair described this retreat in these words:

In a letter by Col. William Darke written to President Washington November 9, 1791, he states,

Here at Fort Jefferson they held a short council to decide whether to retreat further, or try and hold out at this point. Since they had no guns or ammunition and no provisions, and very little desire to continue the fight, they chose to move on. They moved out of Fort Jefferson at ten o’clock that bleak, cold, November night and marched all that night and the next day, when they met their long expected load of flour. The following day they met a small drove of cattle which they quickly disposed of, and marched on to Fort Washington, a completely defeated, disorganized mob.

The battle that began at sunrise November 4, and a retreat at 9:30 that same afternoon, lost over 677 killed (including 30 women), 283 wounded. Thirty-seven officers were killed, $33,000 worth of artillery and supplies, let alone 300 tents, 300 horses, 130 beef cattle and much other equipment. Many threw their blankets and clothes away.

Although the battle only lasted three hours, it ended about as disastrously as Braddock’s defeat in 1755. Like Braddock, no one condemned St. Clair of cowardice, but he did leave nearly 900 Americans sprawled over a ten-acre area–who within an hour later, the wounded were tomahawked to death, scalped and mutilated–all left with their bloody heads smoking in the frosty autumn air.

On the morning of the battle St. Clair was badly crippled with the gout, and unable to mount his horse without much aid. He came out of the battle with eight bullet holes through his clothes, and another bullet tore out some of his hair. The general had four horses for his personal use–the first one he tried to mount when the battle began, with the aid of three or four helpers, was a young stud who proved to be so fractious, due to the noise of battle that St. Clair was unable to get on his back. The second horse was brought out, but it was no sooner mounted than it was killed beneath him, as well as the orderly who was holding it, while the third horse was ordered by the general, who never saw the horse nor orderly afterwards. Finally they got the gouty old General astride a large old artillery horse, which had not been too badly injured to walk. On this horse he rode from the field of battle, and afterwards wrote in Lieutenant Denny’s letter to George Washington,

Public opinion was against St. Clair, although a Congressional investigation cleared his name and partly placed the blame on the government officials, themselves. St. Clair resigned as Major General of the army. He still retained his $2,000 job as Governor of Ohio. Here his ancestry and stubborn aristocratic ways got him in wrong; from now on it was nothing but trouble. His old world background did not fit him for democracy. He got in a conflict with the Territorial Judges. He was outside the territory for long periods of time. He clashed with the leaders, exceeded his authority, was too free with the veto power, played into the hands of his enemies, ran his own son for Congress, he was tactless, autocratic, insisted on his perogatives, was opposed to republican form of government, tried to form a personal party–were faults that stormed about his ears.

Had he won the Indian battle, these things could have been overlooked and probably would have been. His enemies now plotted to overthrow him. Thomas Jefferson needed the electoral votes of Ohio to give him the Presidency. So long as St. Clair was governor, Ohio would not be a state, so he must be side tracked. St. Clair found a note on his desk, stating he was "fired" from office. This broke his spirits completely. He left Ohio forever.