The Adventures of Sergeant Brunson part 2: Shooting at Wild Turkeys

A small scale reproduction of one of the blockhouses at Fort Seneca, at the town of Old Fort, Ohio.

From A Western Pioneer, or Incidents of the Life and Times of Rev. Alfred Brunson

Our camp at Seneca was on the site of the old Indian village. In it were the Twenty-Seventh, Twenty-Eighth, and Seventeenth Regiments; also a squadron of dragoons, in all about two thousand five hundred men. It stood upon the left bank of the Sandusky River, and was fortified by log breastworks, and some earthen embankments, with three block-houses, built of heavy logs, the river side having none. The block-houses, built of heavy logs, were occupied by the guards, and were in advance of the breastworks several rods. On the north, or down-river side, was a clear spot of timber, which was our drilling-ground, but thick heavy timber surrounded us on the other angles of the encampment.

We lay on our arms for ten nights previous to the battle at Fort Stephenson, and had more or less alarms every night, and some in the day-time. Men passing to and from our camp to others, were frequently killed or wounded by the prowling Indians.

Among the exciting scenes and alarms of these first ten days were some ludicrous ones. The sentinels were to hail once, and if no answer came, to fire. One night a sentinel on the main line, hearing a noise in the brush hailed, then fired, and the next hearing the hail and the gun, was on the alert, and hearing something in the brush, hailed and fired almost at the same instant; and so it went along the line till eight or ten guns went off in quick succession. At the sound of the first gun every man in camp sprang to his place at the breastwork, and from hearing so many guns, we expected the onslaught at once; but silence ensued, scouts scoured the ground, and the conclusion was that a deer had caused all the trouble. At another time, under similar circumstances, an ox that had strayed away from the cattle-guard was shot down by the sentinel.

But the most singular case occurred in the day-time. The sentinel fired without hailing. It was supposed the enemy must surely be in sight, and every man was instantly at his post. The drum beat to arms, and all was excitement, expected now a fight in good earnest. But soon the word “dismiss” came round; and when the officer of the day and the General himself reached the spot, the sentinel said that he saw something black moving through and under some brush, which he thought was an Indian trying to get a shot at him, and he thought it best and safest to take the first chance himself, and so blazed away.

On the Sergeant of the guard going to the place pointed out, he found a large turkey, and wild turkeys being nearly black, the General commended the sentinel for his caution, and said he should have the turkey for his dinner. Some of the boys thought it more than likely that the sentinel could distinguish between a turkey and an Indian in broad daylight, but coveting a good dinner, took that method to obtain it, trusting to stratagem for an excuse, in which he succeeded. Allowing that it was so, it was, no doubt, better to let it pass, than to deter a sentinel from firing when there was danger, and thus expose his life and the army to a stratagem of the enemy.

While in this camp I so discharged my duties that on drill I was placed at the head of a platoon, in place of a commissioned officer; and I was so correct and full in my returns and reports as to be favorably reported to General Cass, who commanded our brigade, upon which, unsolicited, he promised me a lieutenancy. But, as the privates died off faster, in proportion, than the officers, no vacancy occurred, and I was left to serve out my time as I was.

…Among the prisoners taken at the Thames, in October after, was one who said he was in that expedition (to Fort Stephenson and Sandusky) and was sent as a spy, to ascertain if reinforcements were approaching the little fort, and when he discovered the camp at Seneca, he entered it in the night, between two sentinels, counted the tents, and reported twenty-five hundred men to his officers. He said that the British commander (General Henry Procter) had no idea of the Seneca camp; he only aimed at the little fort; and as soon as he learned of the strength of our arms at Seneca, he said that what they did must be done at once, and ordered the fatal attempt to scale the pickets, and storm the place; but they had no idea of the ditch, in which forty of them were killed by one shot from the six-pounder in the block-house.