Up Lake Oneida came the enemy, now seventeen hundred strong, St. Leger with his rangers having been joined by Johnson, Butler, and Brant with their Tories and Indians.  Every tribe of the Iroquois had joined the invaders with the exception of the Oneidas, who remained faithful to the colonists.

On the 2d of August, 1777, Brent with his savage followers reached and invested the fort, the plumed and moccasined foe suddenly breaking from the forest, and with their wild war-whoops seeking to intimidate the beleaguered garrison.  On the next day came St. Leger with his whole force.  On the 4th the siege commenced.  Bombs were planted and threw their shells into the fort; the Indians, concealed behind bushes and trees, picked off with their arrows the men who were diligently employed in strengthening the parapets; and during the evening the savages, spreading through the woods, sought, by frightful yells, to drive all courage from the hearts of the defenders.

Meanwhile, aid was approaching.  The valor of the patriots, which fled at the first threat of danger, had returned.  The enemy was now almost at their doors; their helpless families might soon be at the mercy of the ruthless savages; when General Herkimer, a valiant veteran, called for recruits, armed men flocked in numbers to his standard.  He was quickly at the head of more than eight hundred men.  He sent a messenger to the fort, telling Gansevoort of his approach, and bidding him to discharge three signal-guns to show that the tidings had reached him.  His small army was called to a halt within hearing of the guns of the fort, as he deemed it the part of prudence to await the signal before advancing on the foe.

Unfortunately for the brave Herkimer, his men, lately over-timid, were now over-bold.  His officers demanded to be led at once to the fort.  Two of them, Cox and Paris by name, were impertinent in their demands, charging the veteran with cowardice.

“I am placed over you as a father and guardian,” answered Herkimer, calmly, “and shall not lead you into difficulties, from which I may not be able to extricate you.”

But their importunities and taunts continued, and at length the brave old man, angered by their insults, gave the word “March on!” He continued, “You, who want to fight so badly now, will be the first to run when you smell burnt powder.”

On they marched, in tumultuous haste, and with the lack of discipline of untrained militia.  It was now August 6, two days after the beginning of the siege.  Indian scouts lurked everywhere in the forest, and the movements of the patriot army were closely watched.  St. Leger was informed of their near approach, and at once took steps to intercept their advance.

Heedless of this, and of the cautious words of their commander, the vanguard pressed hastily on, winding along the road, and at length entering a deep curving ravine, over whose marshy bottom the road way was carried by a causeway of earth and logs.  The borders of the ravine were heavily timbered, while a thick growth of underwood masked its sloping sides.