Okay, here’s a rewrite of the provided article about St. Clair’s Defeat, aimed for a more casual, conversational tone. The title is unchanged.
St. Clair’s Defeat – Forgotten Disaster of the Indian Wars – Legends of America
Okay, history buffs, let’s talk about something you might not have heard much about: St. Clair’s Defeat. You’ve probably heard of Custer’s Last Stand, right? Well, this was way worse. We’re talking a full-blown disaster for the U.S. Army, a defeat so crushing it’s often called "the most decisive defeat in the history of the American military" and their largest ever defeat by Native Americans. It’s also known as the Battle of the Wabash, or even more dramatically, the "Battle of a Thousand Slain." Brutal stuff.
So, what’s the deal? This all went down on November 4, 1791, in what was then known as the Old Northwest Territory – basically, modern-day Ohio. The U.S. Army, still pretty green at this point, ran smack-dab into the Western Confederacy of Native American tribes. And, well, they got their butts handed to them. Seriously.
While names like Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, George Armstrong Custer, and the Battle of Little Big Horn are etched in the American consciousness, St. Clair’s Defeat, which happened 85 years before Custer’s famous demise, is often overlooked. But trust me, in terms of sheer casualties, the level of brutality, and the long-term consequences, St. Clair’s Defeat makes Little Big Horn look like a minor skirmish.
The Backstory: Land, Debt, and Broken Promises
To understand why this happened, we gotta rewind a bit. After the American Revolutionary War, the U.S. was broke. Like, really broke. The plan to get out of debt? Sell off land in the Northwest Territory. Problem was, that land was already occupied by Native American tribes who weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea.
See, the 1783 Treaty of Paris, which officially ended the Revolutionary War, gave the U.S. control of all the land east of the Mississippi River and south of the Great Lakes. But here’s the kicker: the Native tribes living in the Old Northwest weren’t part of that treaty. Leaders like Little Turtle of the Miami tribe and Blue Jacket of the Shawnee flat-out refused to recognize American claims to the land north of the Ohio River.
So, the U.S. government, desperate for cash, started making plans to remove Native villages and squatters to make way for settlers. This, unsurprisingly, led to a lot of violence. The tribes fought back, and American settlers kept pushing in. It was a recipe for disaster. Guys like Judge John Cleves Symmes and Jonathan Dayton even begged President George Washington and Secretary of War Henry Knox to use military force to crush the Miami tribe.
Harmar’s Humiliation: The First Try
Fast forward to 1790, just two years after the Constitution was ratified. The tribes in the Old Northwest – Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota – were openly challenging U.S. authority. They were raiding settlements, and there were even whispers of British agents from Canada stirring things up. These British agents and troops still occupied installations in the area, which was a big middle finger to the peace treaty from the American Revolution.
So, Washington sends in the troops. Brigadier General Josiah Harmar gets the nod to lead an expedition to put down these Miami Indian raids led by Little Turtle. In October 1790, Harmar marched north from Fort Washington (now Cincinnati, Ohio) with a force of about 1,450 men. Their target? The Miami settlement of Kekionga and Fort Miami, the heart of Native resistance.
Things didn’t go well. Between October 19th and 22nd, Harmar’s detachments got ambushed left and right. Harmar didn’t reinforce them, and after taking over 200 casualties and losing a third of his packhorses, he ordered a retreat back to Fort Washington. While estimates of Native casualties range from 120 to 150, the bottom line is Harmar got his clock cleaned. Supply shortages and just plain bad planning led to a humiliating defeat.
Enter St. Clair: A Leader…in Name Only?
After Harmar’s embarrassing performance, the U.S. government decided to try again. This time, they tapped Major General Arthur St. Clair, the governor of the Northwest Territory and a veteran of the Continental Army. He was ordered to launch a "more vigorous effort" by the summer of 1791.
St. Clair’s force was bigger, around 1,400 men, including regulars, volunteers, Kentucky militia, and a few cavalry. But right from the start, things were a mess. Washington wanted St. Clair to move north in the summer, but logistical problems and supply issues kept delaying the operation.
While St. Clair was getting his act together, Lieutenant Colonel James Wilkinson decided to launch his own raid in May 1791, supposedly to distract the tribes and help St. Clair’s advance. In the Battle of Kenapacomaqua, Wilkinson killed nine Wea and Miami Indians and captured 34 Miami as prisoners, including Little Turtle’s daughter.
Ironically, this raid backfired big time. Instead of scaring the tribes, it united them against St. Clair. It strengthened their resolve to fight, and set the stage for St. Clair’s upcoming disaster.
A Recipe for Disaster: Ill-Prepared and Ill-Fated
St. Clair himself was a problem. He was sick, possibly unfit to command, and his troops were poorly trained, undisciplined, and demoralized. The food supplies were garbage, the horses were weak, and St. Clair kept slowing down the army by ordering them to build forts along the way. By November, they’d only made it 90 miles from where they started! Desertions were common, and the men were freezing and constantly short on supplies. To make matters worse, St. Clair detached the First American Regiment to look for their missing supply train, further weakening his army.
Discipline was a joke, and St. Clair, suffering from gout, couldn’t keep order. Indians were constantly shadowing the force, and skirmishes kept breaking out. By November 2nd, St. Clair’s force had dwindled to around 1,120, including camp followers. Meanwhile, the Western Confederacy was growing stronger every day.
The Ambush: A Slaughter in the Woods
On November 3rd, St. Clair’s force camped on a meadow near the headwaters of the Wabash River, near present-day Fort Recovery, Ohio. In a massive blunder, the First Infantry and volunteers camped on the opposite side of the Wabash River from the Kentucky militia camp. No defensive works were constructed, even though Native Americans had been spotted in the forest. Some soldiers even reported to Major General Richard Butler, the Army’s second in command, that they believed the enemy would attack in the morning. However, General Butler did not convey their message to General St. Clair.
That night, a force of around 1,000 warriors, led by Little Turtle, quietly surrounded the camp in a huge semicircle. The next morning, November 4th, the attack came. Little Turtle, along with Shawnee Chief Blue Jacket and Delaware Chief Buckongahelas, led the charge.
The militia panicked and fled across the river without their weapons. The regulars tried to form a line, but they were quickly overwhelmed. St. Clair had two horses shot out from under him and had bullets rip through his clothing.
The artillery was useless because the gunners aimed too high. Within half an hour, the Native warriors had completely encircled the camp. The U.S. muskets were junk, and the artillerymen were forced to fight hand-to-hand until they were killed. Even the women who accompanied the army fought bravely before being slaughtered. Major General Richard Butler was shot twice and died in his tent.
After three hours of brutal fighting, St. Clair finally ordered a retreat to Fort Jefferson. A bayonet charge led by Colonel William Darke managed to create a path for those who could escape.
The Aftermath: Horror and Scapegoats
The retreat was a nightmare. Those who fell behind were killed. One soldier, Private Stephen Littell, got lost and stumbled back upon the abandoned camp. He reported that the Native Americans had left in pursuit of the fleeing army, so the remaining wounded begged him to kill them before the Native Americans returned. The American Indians did return, however, and they looted the camp, and scalped, tortured, and murdered the wounded, including women and children.
The survivors straggled into Fort Jefferson that evening, 30 miles away. They were exhausted, starving, and terrified. The wounded were left at Fort Jefferson with little food.
When a relief convoy arrived from Fort Washington, they found the survivors eating "horse flesh and green hides." The detachment attempted to bury the dead and collect the missing cannons, but the task was beyond it. At the battle site alone, there were "upwards of six hundred bodies."
The numbers tell the story. Of the 1,400 men who went into battle, 918 were killed and 276 wounded. That’s a 97% casualty rate for the soldiers! Almost all of the camp followers were slaughtered. It was a complete and utter disaster.
St. Clair sent the news to President Washington, who was furious. Congress was shocked and launched an investigation. In the end, the committee blamed the defeat on inadequate forces, poor management, and a lack of discipline. St. Clair himself wasn’t held responsible and was allowed to continue as governor.
The Silver Lining: "Mad" Anthony Wayne and the Legion
There was one positive outcome from all this. Congress authorized an increase in the size of the Army and created the Legion of the United States. President Washington tapped Major General "Mad" Anthony Wayne to lead this new force.
And Wayne succeeded where St. Clair failed. On August 20, 1794, at the Battle of Fallen Timbers, near modern-day Maumee, Ohio, Wayne crushed the Native American forces in less than an hour and a half. This victory ended the Miami Campaign and helped establish the U.S. Army’s proud heritage. The new Legion of the United States also brought the first displays of excellence and professionalism to be the foundations of the Regular Army.
So, next time you’re talking about the Indian Wars, remember St. Clair’s Defeat. It’s a reminder that even the best-laid plans can go horribly wrong, and that sometimes, the past is a lot more complicated than we think.