Arr. Bob Gibson

'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 men there in that Western Territory.

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.

The army was attacked just as the day did dawn,
And was soon overpowered and driven from the lawn,
They killed Major Oldham, Levin and Briggs likewise,
While horrid yells of savages resounded to the sky.

We fought for seven hours or more, and then we had to yeild
Nine hundred of our comrads lay streached upon the field
Said Major Clark, "My heroes, we can no longer stand
We must strive to form in order, 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 svages and his bloody kind of war,

Alas, the dead and dying---how aweful to relate,
To the tomahawk and scalping knife it was their dreadful fate.
But pity more the wounded, who were taken from the fray
To writhe in torment at the stake, to close that dreadful day.

To mention our brave officers is what I wish to do,
No sons of Mars e're fought more brave or with more courage true,
To Captain Bradford I belonged---to his artillery,
He fell that day amongst the slain --- a valiant man was he.

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