A Soldier's Life on the Western Frontier in 1813

The next day after the date of my letter from Upper Sandusky, we left that place for the rapids, together with three hundred militia under the command of Major Orr. We had with us twenty pieces of heavy artillery and a quantity of military stores of every description. At this time we knew nothing of the unfortunate events at the Raisin River. On the second day of our march, a courier arrived from General Harrison; the artillery was ordered to advance with all possible speed. This was rendered totally impossible by the falling snow; it was a complete swamp nearly all the way. On the evening of the same day, news arrived that General Harrison had retreated to the Portage River, eighteen miles in the rear of the encampment at the rapids. It was determined that as many men as could be spared should proceed immediately to reinforce him. It is unnecessary to state that we were among the first who wished to advance.

At two o’clock the next morning, our tents were struck; and in half an hour we were on the road. I will candidly confess that on that day I regretted being a soldier. We marched thirty miles in incessant rain; and I am afraid you will doubt my veracity when I tell you that in eight miles of the best road, we sank into mud over the knees and often to the middle. The Black Swamp (four miles from the Portage River and four miles in extent) would have been considered impassable by all except men who were determined to surmount every difficulty to accomplish the object of their march. In this swamp one loses sight of terra firma altogether. The water was about six inches deep on the ice, which was very rotten and often broke through to a depth of four or five feet.

That same night we encamped on very wet ground, but the driest that we could find; the rain still continued. It was with difficulty that we built fires; our clothes were wet. We had no tents, no axes, nothing to cook in, and very little to eat. Since a brigade of pack horses was near us, we procured some flour from them; we killed a hog as there were plenty of them along the road. Our bread was baked in the ashes, and the pork we broiled on the coals. A sweeter meal I have never eaten. When we went to sleep, it was on two logs laid close together to keep our bodies from the damp ground. Good God! What a pliant being is man in adversity. The loftiest spirit that ever inhabited the human breast would have been tamed amid the difficulties that surrounded us.