On the third of November the army made its last day's march--little dreaming that it was the last or that just ahead lay the bloodiest battlefield in American pioneer history. The Thomas Irwin manuscript, previously quoted,[118] gives us a glimpse of the day that is of singularly pathetic interest. "In the afternoon of the 3^d Something Broke which Caused a general halt Nearly one hour the Day was Cold us waggoners in front had a very handy way of making fire we made up a Large fire Several of the officers Collected around to warm themselves Gen^l St Clair was Brought and took a Seat he not Being able to walk they Discoursed on Different Subjects one was where they thought we were the general oppinion was that we had passed over the Dividing ridge Between the Miamie waters and was then on the waters of St. Marys Col Serjant Came up at the time Stated the advance gard had Chased 4 or 5 Indians from a fire out of a thicket & got part of a venison at it he Likewise stated there had Been more Indians Seen that Day than any Day previous The General observed that he Did not think the Indians was watching the motions of the army with a view to attack them other than Steal horses or Catch a person if they had a Chance We all Coincided [?] in that oppinion." Poor St. Clair! Was ever a general more terribly mistaken? Just beyond lay Little Turtle, now closing swiftly in on the doomed army. "The army moved about two miles," continues Irwin, "from there Halted to Encamp at a good place But Scarce of Water an Express Came up from the advance gard give information that they had arrived at a fine running Stream of water and a good place to Encamp the army moved to S^d Creek got there a Little after Sunset. it was Between 8 & 9 oclock Before the army got fixed to Rest." Then follows the ominous sentence: "this was on the 3^d of November 1791." Happy it is that the bloody promontory to which St. Clair's army hobbled late on that cold November night can forever bear the cheerful name which another and more successful campaigner--whose soldiers were not always half-famished--gave it. And still no thoughtful student can look upon the slow-moving Little Wabash from the present site of Fort Recovery, Ohio, without remembering that here Camp Destruction was pitched before ever Fort Recovery was erected. A fine high plateau or promontory thrusts itself out into the lower flats through which the river curves. At its extreme point the river approaches on the left and in front. On the right are extensive fields where the sunlight plays so tenderly that it is difficult to picture the rank swamp which lay there a century ago. Beyond the river, level flats extend half a mile and more to the foothills beyond.