SOLON ROBINSON, 1841 175 



The horrors, carnage, and finally, the glorious victory, 

 which was won upon that field, are familiar to all. 



Perhaps of all scenes that civilized man is called upon 

 to encounter, that most trying to the nerves, and one 

 which requires the most cool fortitude, is a night attack 

 of Indians. It was the "fortune of war," that at the 

 battle of Tippecanoe, both General and men possessed 

 this quality in an eminent degree. But it is not my 

 object to illustrate upon that battle, and have only men- 

 tioned it in connection with the actors of my little drama. 

 I have exhibited them upon the scene on the evening 

 previous to the battle, and attempted to depict the mental 

 suffering of one of them. On the evening after, I must 

 change that suffering to the other. Wounded and dis- 

 consolate, he sits silent and alone. In vain has he 

 sought among the living and dead for his friend. At- 

 water is among the missing. The carcase of his horse 

 was found where the hottest of the fight took place, about 

 daylight, but no sign of his body. The next day brought 

 no relief to to the painful suspense, whether he was dead, 

 or in a worse situation — a captive among the Indians. 

 However disfigured his body might be, Scott hoped to rec- 

 ognize it by one mark. He wore upon the middle finger of 

 his left hand a curious ring — the wedding ring of his first 

 marriage. He knew that it was there when he went into 

 battle, for he saw him gazing at it while writing his Will. 

 — And it was so small that it could not be withdrawn 

 from the finger, and had Indian cupidity discovered it, 

 the knife would most likely have been put in requisition 

 to obtain it, and left the mark of a lost finger upon the 

 hand that wore the ring. But no such mark was found, 

 and if he was a captive, no hope could be entertained of 

 recovering him — for the Indians withdrew to their im- 

 penetrable fortress in the swamps towards Lake Michi- 

 gan. 



With what disconsolate heart did Scott return, a few 

 weeks afterwards, to the dreary house of his lost friend, 

 to mingle his manly tears with those of his weeping wife. 



