“Will you undertake it?”

“I have accustomed my men to it from the first,” he answered.

“Then charge!”

Galloping to the head of his regiment, Johnson said: 

“My brave Kentucky lads, to us is accorded the honor of winning this battle.  Forward!” The whole cavalcade, more than a thousand strong, went thundering over the solid plain.  In the whole range of modern warfare, perhaps there has never been a charge which, for reckless, romantic courage, could compare to this.  The Kentuckians were armed only with long-barrelled rifles, hatchets and knives.  None had sabres, so essential to cavalry; few had pistols, and there was not a carbine among them; but, as Johnson had said, they were accustomed to those charges on horseback, and could load and fire those long rifles with marvellous rapidity even while in the saddle.  Their hatchets and knives were as deadly as the sabre.  As they thundered down on the enemy, leaving the infantry and General Harrison a mile behind, Johnson discovered that the ground on which the British were drawn was too narrow for his whole regiment to charge abreast, so he divided his force, sending his brother Lieutenant-Colonel James Johnson with one division, against the regulars, while he with the other turned off into the swamp, and fell like a tornado upon the Indians under Tecumseh.

Fernando went with the division against the British; but he heard the splashing of mud and water, the cracking of rifles and wild shouts of combatants, as, through smoke, spray, mud and low bushes, the Kentuckians under Colonel Johnson charged the ambushed Indians.  His own division continued galloping forward, until they were close on the British, who opened a heavy fire.  The fire checked them; but Johnson shouted: 

“Forward, Kentuckians!”

Ashamed of their momentary hesitation, the men shook their bridles and, with wild huzzahs, dashed right through the enemy, shooting right and left.  Wheeling rapidly about, as soon as the British line was passed the Kentuckians poured in a destructive volley on their rear, and they fled, or threw down their guns and cried for quarter, which was granted.  Proctor, with a part of his command, escaped, leaving his carriage and papers.

Fernando’s horse had been wounded in the shoulder, and as he dismounted to try to alleviate the suffering of the poor beast, he heard the conflict still raging on his right.  Colonel Johnson with his half of the Kentuckians had struck Tecumseh and was routing his entire force.  The Indians fought stubbornly until Tecumseh fell, and hearing his voice no longer they fled in confusion.  A complete victory was gained before General Harrison reached the field.

Some historians of good authority state that Johnson shot Tecumseh with his pistol, just as his own horse fell dead under him;—­that as the colonel’s horse was sinking under innumerable wounds, he discovered a large Indian, whose regal feathers denoted his rank, coming toward him with uplifted tomahawk.  He drew a pistol and shot him through the heart.  This has been denied. [Footnote:  Seventeen years ago an aged man, who was in the conflict, informed the author that he saw Tecumseh fall, that he was shot through the head by a private soldier; “a big Kentuckian.”]