Yank gave him a look that
communicated disagreement.
Harrison ignored him. “We’ll
erect the command tent here in the center and form a rectangular
perimeter. Captain Spencer?”
“Sir?” Spencer
replied.
“Your company of Yellow
Jackets will defend the narrow southern slope.”
“Yes sir.”
“Colonel Floyd?”
“Sir.”
“Deploy your four strongest
companies on the north between us and the school. If they come
tonight, that’s where they’ll come from. Divide the rest of your
militia between the east and west.”
“Where do you want my
command post, sir?” Floyd asked.
Harrison thought a moment.
“On the steep bluff on the east, facing Prophetstown.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The regulars and the
dragoons will be held in reserve,” Harrison said. “Colonel Van
Buskirk, a word if you please. The rest of you are dismissed.
Please place your men quickly.” He returned their salutes and
watched them ride off, then looked at Yank. “What do you
think?”
“I think you should
reconsider earthworks.”
“You made that clear. I
meant, what do you think about this position?”
Yank looked around, then
shrugged. “I just told you what I think.”
“You’re a hard-headed,
stubborn bastard.”
Yank shrugged again.
“Failing to dig in makes absolutely no sense to me.”
“I need the support of the
church and don’t want to destroy the school’s grass
unnecessarily.”
“Politics be damned. We need
earthworks to properly defend this hill.”
“That discussion is over,
Colonel,” Harrison said sharply.
“Yes, sir,” Yank
grumbled.
“Do you still think the
cease-fire is a ploy?”
“Of course. They’ll attack
us here tonight.”
“What makes you so
sure?”
“Our scouts told us that the
fortifications at Prophetstown are still incomplete. They want to
engage us before we can get there.”
“I hope you’re right. I’d
rather fight a defensive battle from this good position than try to
take the town.”
“Dig in and I’ll agree with
you.”
Harrison scowled at him, and
then looked toward the east. “That bluff’s too steep. He’ll come
from the north using the mission school as a screen. We’ll meet him
there and destroy him.”
Yank shook his head. “He’ll
feint from there and hit us from the south.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s our narrowest
front and we’re blind there. Sentries on the north side will see an
attack well in advance.”
“I think you’re wrong, but
if you’re right, we can collapse both the east and west lines to
defend the south and stack ‘em up.”
“If I’m right they’ll punch
through and have both the east and west lines hamstrung and afraid
to fire for fear of hitting each other.”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
Harrison asked in obvious annoyance. “And if you mention digging in
again I’m gonna shoot you.”
“In case I’m wrong and they
do hit us from the school, let me give you command of the dragoons
to support the northern line.”
“No. I want them in reserve,
Yank.”
“Fine. Keep them in reserve
then. But they’re completely useless anywhere but the north. Half
the horses would break their legs on the western slope, all of them
would on the eastern bluff and the south’s too narrow.”
“If I take the dragoons,
where will you be with the regular infantry?”
“In the center where I can
go either way, but expecting to move southward to reinforce
Spenser’s Yellow Jackets.”
“Very well. Please inform
Major Daviess so he doesn’t get the idea that I’m usurping your
authority.”
November 7, 1811
Prophetstown, Indiana
Territory
Tenskwatawa raised his hand
to silence the protesting voices. “I have consulted the spirits and
they have advised me of what to do.” He gestured toward a black man
in tattered clothes who looked decidedly uncomfortable and out of
place. “Our new brother, Ben, who today deserted from the army of
our enemy, will show a small raiding party where Harrison sleeps
while the rest of our warriors surround the camp. When Harrison is
dead we will attack and wipe out all his soldiers.”
“They have the high ground,”
a war chief replied. “Many of us will die while attacking up that
hill.”
There was a general buzz of
agreement from many of the warriors.
Tenskwatawa raised his hand
again to silence the discussion. “I will cast spells to protect our
warriors from harm and to confuse the whites so they cannot resist.
That is all I have to say.”
November 7, 1811
Near Prophetstown, Indiana
Territory
The sentry behind the
mission school peered into the darkness and cocked his musket.
“Halt.”
Four Indians turned and fled
leaving one black man who slowly raised his hands. “Don’t shoot.
It’s jus’ me. Ol’ Ben the wagon driver.”
“Ben? I heard that you run
off to join the Indians,” the sentry replied.
“I done changed my mind and
come back now.”
“Sergeant of the guard!” The
sentry ducked as a muzzle flashed to his right and he caught the
wagon driver’s collar before the man could run. “You didn’t come
back, Ben, you brung the Indians down on us. Yer gonna hang for
that.”
~
Yank and his sergeant major
were standing outside Harrison’s tent when the Governor came out.
“Did I hear gunfire?”
“Yes,” Yank said. “There’s
been some contact on the north and a little skirmish on the south.
As far as I can tell we’re completely surrounded.”
“What time is it?” Harrison
asked as he buckled on his saber.
“About 4:30.” Yank looked to
the south where a crackle of musket fire had erupted again.
“Sergeant Major Baker?”
“Sir?”
“Send Sergeant Kennedy down
there to watch from a safe distance. I want to know the moment that
Spencer starts to yield.”
“Yes, sir.” The sergeant
disappeared into the night as Ensign Tipton joined them.
“It sounds like Spencer
turned ‘em back,” Harrison said.
“They’ll come again,” Yank
replied. He pointed toward the north. “Major Daviess should have
the dragoons mounted by now.”
“What orders did you give
him?”
“Only to wait for
you.”
Sergeant Major Baker was
back and Yank turned toward him expectantly. “Captain Spencer’s
wounded bad, sir. In the head and through both legs. Four
lieutenants is down. The sergeants are holdin’ the men but they’ll
break soon without any officers.”
“Ensign Tipton,” Yank
barked. “Get down there and take command.”
“Me sir?”
“I’ll be right behind
you.”
“Yes, sir.” Tipton ran
toward the sound of gunfire and passed Sergeant Kennedy who was
rushing the other way, toward the officers.
“Kennedy?” Yank
asked.
“Captain Spenser’s dead,
sir. He got shot again in the chest and that finished him.
Lieutenants McMahan and Berry are dead too. The other two Yellow
Jacket officers is down.”
Yank glanced at Harrison. “I
have to go.”
“Of course,” Harrison said.
“Let me see if Major Daviess and I can clear out those people by
the school and then we’ll come down and help you.”
Yank ran toward the southern
line and stopped to mount his horse where his four companies of
regulars had been formed. The Yellow Jacket Company was breaking,
even with Ensign Tipton’s shouts and threats.
“Companies A and B,” Yank
shouted. “Fix - bayonets.” He waited while the sergeants echoed the
command then raised his sword. “Forward, at the ready, march.” He
eased his horse forward, then turned in the saddle and shouted,
“Retreating Americans and Indians are both to be treated as
hostile.” He looked back to the front then cantered his horse left
to cut off a fleeing Yellow Jacket and slapped the man on the
shoulder with the flat of his sword. “Fall in with us now or
die.”
“Yes, sir.” The man ran back
and found a place in the first rank.
The two support companies
and Ensign Tipton’s rallying cries at last turned the Yellow
Jackets back to face the Indians, who were now well inside the
perimeter.
Yank waited until he had
sealed the breach and reformed the line, then he ordered four
musket volleys that turned the attackers away. At 7:00 AM, he rode
back to the command tent leaving the company officers in
charge.
“How bad was it?” Harrison
asked, as Yank dismounted.
“Bloody,” Yank said, holding
his hands toward the fire. “Almost a third of Spencer’s
company.”
Harrison cursed under his
breath. “You were sure right about digging in. I should have
listened to you.”
“It isn’t too late. They
won’t be coming back for a while but they’ll be coming
back.”
“I don’t think
so.”
“Still worried about the God
damned grass?”
“No. I really don’t believe
they’ll come back.”
“Then I request permission
to take the dragoons on a recon in force to confirm your
belief.”
“Granted.”
November 8, 1811
Near Prophetstown, Indiana
Territory
Yank dismounted, gave his
horse to an enlisted man and gratefully accepted a cup of tea from
one of Governor Harrison’s servants. “You were right,” he said to
Harrison. “We rode all the way to Prophetstown. The town’s been
abandoned. Everyone’s gone.”
“All of them?” Harrison
asked.
“All of them except for one
old woman who was too sick to travel. I brought her back and left
her at the school with the surgeons. She told me that many warriors
are accusing Tenskwatawa of being a false prophet and that he’s
blaming his wife.”
“His wife?” Harrison
chuckled. “That sounds like a hard sell.”
Yank grinned. “Something
about her desecrating his medicine. The old woman says that the
warriors aren’t buying it.”
“What’s all that smoke?”
Harrison pointed to the east, toward Prophetstown.
“I confiscated anything of
value, smashed all their cooking implements and burned the village.
They’re going to have a very hard winter.”
Harrison looked at the smoke
for several seconds. “Some governor I am, burning my own
towns.”
“Prophetstown was never your
town, Bill.”
Harrison turned to face
Yank. “I guess you’ll be writing an after action report to
Secretary Eustis.”
“Yes. As you
will.”
“Do you have to mention that
I didn’t fortify the camp?”
“Tell me how to avoid it and
I won’t.”
“Just don’t mention
it.”
“Have you ever written an
after action report that didn’t clearly describe the positions of
both sides?”
“The ground was so good that
I didn’t think it needed any additional fortification.”
“I can say that in exactly
those words, if you want.”
“That’s what I’ll be saying.
You better just stick to the facts but I’d appreciate it if you
didn’t crucify me.”
“I’ll be as gentle as
possible.” Yank looked around the camp. “Are you going to release
the militia?”
“Yes. After we get the
wounded back to Fort Harrison.”
“What about me?”
“I’d like you to stay a
while longer.”
“How much
longer?”
“A few weeks. Why? Are you
missing your family?”
“Of course I am, but that’s
not why I’m anxious to go.”
“Why then?”
“Tenskwatawa is likely to go
south now. I want to make sure Andrew Jackson realizes what he’s
facing.”
“Well.” Harrison looked into
the fire. “You have a better reason for going than I have for
keeping you here. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay with us until we
get back to the fort.”
“Certainly.”
November 28,
1811
Nashville,
Tennessee
Andrew Jackson met Yank at
the bottom of the gangway, shook his hand enthusiastically then
gestured toward the paddle-wheeled steam boat. “How was your
trip?”
“Loud but very fast,” Yank
replied. “These boats and the new canals are going to open up
America.”
“If we can keep the British
and Tecumseh from establishin’ their danged neutral zone to stop
westward expansion.”
“Is he here?
Tecumseh?”
Jackson shook his head. “If
he is, I sure don’t know where. After I got your letter, I sent
scouts out all over the state.”