"ST. CLARE'S DEFEAT"

'Twas November the 4th in the year of '91,
We had a strong engagement near to Fort Jefferson,
Sinclair was our commander which may remembered be,
For we left 900 comrades in that dreaful Territory.

At Bunker's Hill and at Kennebec where many a hero fell,
Likewise at Canandaigua the truth to you I'll tell,
But such a bloody carnage may I never see again,
As happened near Fort Jefferson all on that river plain.

The Indians attacked our force just as the day did dawn,
The arrows fell like deadly rain as we were set upon,
900 hundred men fell writhing before our startled eyes,
While horrid yells of savages resounded to the sky.

3 hours more we fought them 'til then we had to yield,
900 of our comrades lay stretched upon the field,
Says Major Clark, "My heroes, we can no longer stand,
We'll strive to form in honor and retreat the best we can."

The word "retreat" being passed around, there rose a dismal cry,
Then helter-skelter through the woods like wolves and sheep they fly,
This well-apointed army which but a day before,
Now fled before the savage and his dreadful kind of war.

Alas, the dying and wounded---how awful to relate,
To the tomahawk and scalping knife it was there dreadful fate
But pity more the wounded who were taken in that fray,
Who (To) writhed in torment at the stake to close that awful day.

Repeat first verse

thats as close as I recall


Don