They were victimized more shamefully than before. It seems unaccountable how men in such circumstances, and with the crimson lessons of the preceding few years before them, could be so deceived as were the leaders of the expeditions in the West.

Colonel Hardin had not advanced far, when a small company of warriors showed themselves and succeeded with little difficulty in drawing off the militia in pursuit of them—the very purpose of the stratagem—and then the main body of savages attacked the regulars in overwhelming force and with tiger-like ferocity.

Although unused to such fighting, the regulars stood their ground like Spartans, and loaded and fired with great accuracy and rapidity. The warriors dropped like autumn leaves, and had there been only a few hundred of them, the soldiers would have routed them very quickly; but re-enforcements continued to swarm forward, the woods were alive, and every tree and bush seemed to conceal a savage who aimed with deadly effect at the brave soldiers.

The latter stood and fought until only ten men were left, including their intrepid commander. These escaped, while fifty were killed—the fight, scarcely heard of in this day, being one of the most remarkable exhibitions of bravery ever given in the history of our country.

Just about the time the little force was practically annihilated, the militia came back, so as to take their turn in offering themselves as victims to Indian treachery and bravery. The warriors were ready for them, and they were attacked with the same fierceness. The horrible massacre went on until two-thirds of the militia were slain, when the others scattered for the main body.

It would seem that mismanagement could not go further, and the indignation against Harmar and Hardin was so intense that they were court-martialed. Hardin obtained a unanimous acquittal, as did Harmar; but the latter felt the disgrace so keenly that he resigned his commission in the army.

One of the inevitable results of these repeated blunders on the part of the soldiers was the renewal of the Indian outrages, which became bolder than ever. The condition of Kentucky was so critical that Congress appointed St. Clair, Governor of the Northwest Territory, Major-General, and he was instructed to raise a new regiment for the defence of the frontier.

General St. Clair was given command of the expedition, and it was the crowning act of imbecility and disgrace on the part of those who had in charge the protection of the border. Arthur St. Clair was born at Edinburgh, Scotland, and was in the prime of life when he assumed command of the expedition against the western tribes. It was he who in the month of June, 1777, was besieged in Ticonderoga by Burgoyne's troops and compelled to evacuate the fort with great loss. His career in the Revolution had not been creditable to him, and there was no man in whom the Kentuckians had less confidence than he. When it became known that he was to lead the large force against the Indians, the dissatisfaction was universal, and the predictions of failure were heard in every quarter.

The distrust was so deep that his call for volunteers received no response. It was intended that his command should consist of two thousand regular troops, composed of cavalry, infantry and artillery. These rendezvoused at Fort Washington, the site of Cincinnati, in September, 1791. Kentucky finally sent forward a thousand of her militia, but they so disliked service under St. Clair, that the most of them deserted and returned to their homes.

The chief object of this formidable campaign was to establish a series of posts, extending from the Ohio to the Maumee; and by leaving a garrison of a thousand men on the latter river, it was believed that the neighboring tribes could be kept in a state of submission.