This article is respectfully dedicated to the memory of my friend Mike O’Shaughnessy (1949-2003), a man whose valor and virtues were very much like those of the frontiersmen.

Time and again when one peruses the history books, we are lead to believe that when the last British musket was grounded at Yorktown in October of 1781 the Revolutionary War was over. In the east, the victory in Yorktown brought on a silent but uneasy armistice. Though there was no fighting, the British continued to occupy New York City, Charleston, South Carolina and Savanna, Georgia. The patriot victory in the east had determined that there would be an independent America. The war in the west would determine the boundaries of the new nation

But there was no peace in the west. The Revolutionary War west of the mountains continued on with scarcely a seasonal pause. In the Ohio Valley the year 1782 continued on as a bloody, no-quarter fight. Here the signs of defeat were everywhere, marked by smoking cabins and unburied dead. British allied Indians armed with the king’s muskets, powder and shot, continued their reign of terror. It was in the east that the British had concentrated the bulk of their blood and treasure and were defeated. In contrast their war in the west was conducted on a shoestring budget by a relatively small number of Indian allies and American Loyalist militia. Battles in the west were never meant to win the war. The British leadership intended for operations in this theater to terrorize the frontiers and keep men and supplies from going east. The irony of the situation was that where the larger war effort in the east had failed, the events of 1782 would show that the English and Indians were within an ace of winning in the west.

Col. William Crawford, who would give his name to the campaign, is of great interest to those of us who study local frontier history. He is of particular interest to Wheeling area residents, as it is most likely that Fort Henry was built under Crawford’s direction and supervision. He was a surveyor by trade and his transit and chains probably laid out the buildings and walls of the fort. Quite fittingly Crawford was also Fort Henry’s first commander. His tragic fate only three months before the second siege of Fort Henry in 1782 was clearly on the minds of the fort’s defenders. Jonathan Zane would mention Crawford by name when he delivered his fire-eating refusal to the Loyalist Ranger’s demand for surrender at the start of that storied fight.

The modern reader should keep in mind the harsh reality that prevailed on the western border in 1782. The frontier was in dire straits. The state governments of Virginia and Pennsylvania were bankrupt. There was little in the way of supplies, men, or money that they could send for frontier defense. Fort Pitt, the epicenter of the war in the west, was in shambles, and could not even field an effective fighting formation even had they wished to do so. The poorly supplied, regular army troops stationed there were on the verge of mutiny. The problem was so serious at Fort Pitt that General Washington sent a new commander, Gen. William Irvine, to bring some order to the chaotic situation. Adding to the problem, the winter of 1781-1782 had been unusually mild. As a consequence, the frontier did not get even the normal seasonal Sabbath from the Indian terror that winter usually brought. 

The Indian raids of late winter and early spring of 1782 exploded up and down the Ohio River like a chain of firecrackers. In February the Wallace family was taken prisoner from the Raccoon Creek area. John Carpenter and Mrs. Walker of Buffalo Creek were captured shortly afterward, but both managed to escape. The particularly brutal death of Mrs. Wallace stoked the fires of revenge. Retaliation from the locals came swiftly. On March 6, 1782, a group of armed frontiersmen, nominally under the command of David Williamson, killed 90 of the Christian Indians then living on the Muskingum River. Easter Sunday brought yet another Indian attack and the celebrated stand at Miller’s blockhouse. 

Realizing the seriousness of the problem, on April 5, 1782 General Irvine convened a council of war with the county lieutenants at Fort Pitt to try to deal with the situation. The consensus of opinion that came out of this meeting was that only a raid striking the Indian villages deep into the Ohio Country would bring any relief from the raiding. Col. Bouquet and Lord Dunmore had proven that, if a large enough force could devastate the Indian country, they would seek peace. Until an offensive could be mounted, a large number of scouting parties would be kept out along the Ohio River. While a few Indian raiders might be caught, most were usually able to slip past the scouts. All present knew that the defensive moves were at best a stopgap measure. Representing Ohio County at this meeting were Col. David Shepherd and Maj. Sam McColloch. Shepherd and McColloch both objected to Gen. Irvine that Ohio County had already been too hard hit from the raiding to spare any more men. Because of their objections, the militia from Ohio County were not to be drafted into the planned expedition. For Sam McColloch it was to be one of the last services he performed for his county. He would be dead in a little less that four months. Complicating matters, there was a Virginia law stating that the state’s militia could not be drafted for service outside the state. Because of the law and the objections by McColloch and Shepherd, the army would be composed mostly of men from Westmoreland and Washington Counties in Pennsylvania. Washington County was already giving a significant contribution to Ohio County’s defense. Two companies of their men were assigned to scouting duty along the river from Fort Pitt to just north of Wheeling. The final numbers recruited from each county were 320 from Washington County, 130 from Westmoreland County, and 20 from Ohio County.

Over the last two centuries since Crawford’s defeat, several myths have been attached to it. Later historians tried to claim that it was nothing more than a large-scale looting expedition. Other chroniclers said that the frontiersmen were there to complete the murdering of the Christian Indians which they had started at the Moravian Massacre. Yet another tradition says that written orders from Crawford were posted on trees ordering no prisoners and no quarter. Regarding the first two points, there is more than enough documentary evidence about for any who would care to examine it, that these allegations are false. Making the last myth look rather foolish, one of features the average militiaman shared with his Indian enemy was that both were illiterate. 

The proposed campaign finally began to take shape. General Irvine stated the minimum number of volunteers needed for any hope of success was 350. He probably believed that number would be impossible to gather since a few weeks earlier he could not raise 15 men to replace the garrison at Fort Henry. It is worth noting that by this time the militia had fallen into disfavor with the regular army. They were viewed as undisciplined, unreliable, and a waste of supplies. Still, for what the militia lacked in discipline they made up in spirit. While the regular troops at Fort Pitt were on the verge of mutiny, these volunteers were eager to come to grips with the enemy. In order to strike swiftly and escape detection this foray was to be a mounted expedition. Each man would provide his own horse, saddle, and arms. The government would provide some provisions and powder, and pay to replace any horses lost on the campaign. General Irvine provided written guidelines for the group as well as a surgeon and an aide-de-camp for whomever was elected to lead the group. 

The group was set to meet between May 15th and 24th at a place called Mingo Bottom. Mingo Bottom was located on the Virginia side of the river directly across the river from present day Mingo Junction. An interesting aside; at the same time the volunteers were meeting at Mingo Bottom, a notice was posted at Fort Henry seeking families to go into the Ohio Country, claim the land on the Muskingum River, and form a new state. Fortunately this suicidal enterprise went no further. General Irvine had cautioned that all matters regarding rank be settled before the expedition started. The men formed up into 18 companies, and each group picked their captain. As they would, later in the Civil War, the men elected their own officers. The problem of who would lead the expedition was the most delicate. David Williamson came from Washington County and was extremely popular. Since that county had provided the bulk of the men it was assumed he would be elected. General Irvine looked on him with great disfavor for two reasons; he was a militia officer and had participated in the Moravian Massacre. The candidate he wanted was William Crawford. 

There were certainly good reasons for this. Crawford had been a colonel in the regular army. His service against the Indians dated back to Lord Dunmore’s war in 1774. In November of that year he had led a very successful raid against a Mingo village on the Scioto River. Early in the Revolution he had served with Gen. Washington in the east. He was with Washington when he crossed the Delaware River and participated in the victory over the Hessians. Later that year he had led a group of 100 scouts that were assigned to report Howe’s movements to Washington. Crawford had been a friend, a confidant, and a business partner of the future President, dating back to the days of the French and Indian War and had accompanied him down the Ohio on his trip in 1770. In 1778 he returned to the west and helped build Fort Crawford, Fort Laurens, and Fort McIntosh. He retired from active service after the Yorktown battle in 1781to his home near present day Connellsville, Pennsylvania. The horrible specter of large-scale Indian raids on his neighbors brought him out of retirement. One can only speculate that there must have been some feeling of foreboding on his part, as he made out his will two days before he left home to join the expedition. 

When the election was held Crawford beat Williamson by four votes. Williamson was to be the second in command. John Rose was to be the aide-de-camp and John Knight was to be the surgeon. Rose was another of those fascinating foreigners who came to assist America during the Revolution. His real name was John Rosenthal, a Russian Jewish nobleman who was forced to flee Russia as a result of a duel. He eventually came to serve Gen. Irvine as an aid. Their relationship was like that of a father and son and strikingly similar to that of Lafayette and Gen. Washington. Rose’s services were later to prove invaluable. The guides for the expedition were John Slover and Jonathan Zane aand Tom Nickolson.

The group’s mission was to mount a swift strike on the Wyandot villages near the Sandusky River. The hoped for strategy was that by quick movements they could catch the Indians unaware, but this was not to be. Even as they crossed the river to the Ohio side, unseen eyes watched their every move and a steady stream of runners kept the villages informed of the frontiersmen’s progress. The group moved along at almost a snail’s pace. Early in the American Revolution walking frontiersman had made 30 miles a day marching to the relief of Boston. This supposed, fast-moving mounted expedition was at times making scarcely 15. The need for speed was clear to all, and this slow movement would plant the seeds of their undoing. Dr. Knight, the surgeon for the expedition, would recall, “We began our march on Saturday, May 25th making almost a due west course, and on the fourth day reached the old Moravian towns on the river Muskingham, about 60 miles from the river Ohio. Some of the men having lost their horses on the night preceding, returned home.” Shortly after reaching the Muskingum River, two officers were about a quarter of a mile in front of the rest of the riders. They saw two Indians and fired on them. The Indians quickly vanished and with them went any illusions the frontiersmen had about their approach being a secret. 

Time and again the Indians had proven that in forest warfare they were nobody’s fool. They quickly realized that a large-scale campaign was taking shape against them. Given the direction the invaders were taking, the Indians were sure the invaders were going to the Sandusky area. They understood that given the numbers of frontiersman coming against them, no one tribe that lived in the Sandusky region would be able to repel them. None of the four tribes living around the area could individually field over 200 fighting men. The Indians were also quick to grasp that if they did not unite to face this threat they would be destroyed separately. Unlike their opponents, the Indians used their time wisely. As soon as runners brought the news of the invasion to the Wyandot villages on the upper Sandusky, fresh runners were dispatched to report the situation to the English commander, De Peyster, at Detroit. Other messengers were sent to neighboring Shawnee and Delaware villages to stir the countryside with news of the invasion. On June 3rd frontiersman passed from deep forests to the grassy plains of north central Ohio. It would be their last camp before they would meet the enemy. Without knowing it, the militia army would pass within two miles of a temporary Delaware village without discovering it. 

On June 4th they came to the present day town of Upper Sandusky, Ohio where John Slover believed they would find a large Wyandot town. Instead they found a deserted one. The problem was that Indian villages change locations. Under normal circumstances they might move every few years, due to the scarcity of game or natural disasters. Now the flood of white settlers exerted even more pressure to move than usual. At one o’clock in the afternoon of the 4th, the column halted while Col. Crawford had a conference with his officers and scouts. It was at this meeting that Jonathan Zane told Crawford that the reason they had not seen the enemy was that they were retreating until they could muster enough warriors to attack them, and they were probably very close to it. It was also brought out that food supplies were getting short. Before the meeting was even finished word came that the enemy they were seeking had now found them. 

Three miles out from the main camp, a group of mounted scouts had come across a large party of Indians. This was not the Wyandot village they had been expecting to find but a roving Delaware war party. Not long after the initial clash, the Delawares were reinforced by the Wyandots. The battle evolved into a hot, close-quarter, rifle and tomahawk contest with both sides fighting to take control of a small island of trees in a sea of flat grassland. Whichever side possessed this tactically important piece of real estate would have a considerable advantage over the other. By sundown the militia had pushed the combined Indian force out of the grove. 

As darkness fell both sides paused to consider their situation. The militia was pleased as they had taken the grove of trees they wanted. From here they felt confident they could handle any assault the might be thrown against them. The Indians had better reasons to be optimistic. They had stopped the initial assault without any of their villages being destroyed. With the Wyandot to the north and the Delaware to the south, they felt the invaders were pinned between them and time was now on their side. Runners brought word that the next day reinforcements should give the Indian alliance a crushing advantage in numbers. 

The fight started again at dawn the next day June 5th. There was sporadic shooting from both armies with no serious effect on either side. Crawford had hoped to attempt an early breakout but this was not to be. The long, tiring march to the battlefield, combined with the previous evenings spirited fight, required that his wounded were tended and his men rested. Shortly after noon Crawford called another meeting of his officers. As they were discussing the situation, they heard an uproar in the enemy camp. To the northeast they saw a large group of mounted men take up a position next to the Wyandot camp. Upon closer examination they discovered these were not Indians but British Rangers. Before they could even consider the new threat, they heard yet another tumult coming from the enemy camp to the south. The rifle fire and war whoops announced that the Shawnee had joined the battle and were taking up positions to the south next to the Delaware. As a crowning touch to the patriot militia’s misfortune, the British Rangers had also brought along two small artillery pieces. 

The artillery would never play a meaningful part in the battle but the disparity in numbers would. Very soon after the arrival of reinforcements the Indian force began to assault the frontiersmen’s position. Unlike the European armies, the Indians quite sensibly would always devise a battle plan to take as few casualties as possible. Their assault was not a wild rush; rather they came up individually or in small groups from all sides through the tall grass, as they might stalk a deer. In some respects it was hauntingly similar to the final assault on Custer at the Little Big Horn. When the warriors got close enough they would fire at any militiaman that presented a decent target, and they began to find several. 

It was now evident to all trapped in that grove of trees that Crawford’s little army had walked into a hornet’s nest. They were cut off and surrounded 170 miles deep in enemy territory. That same enemy now out numbered them better than two to one, had the scent of blood, and was closing for the kill. During the first day of battle the militia had taken but four wounded and none killed. Now because the sheer weight of lead being shot at them, they would soon count four dead and 23 wounded. The frontier army was also cut off from was water. The men had nothing with them but what they carried in their canteens since the fight had started the previous afternoon. There were no springs around and the Sandusky River was over a mile away. A militiaman named John Sherrard found a large puddle of stagnant water in the roots of an uprooted tree. The thirsty men drank it and they would soon add sickness to their list of troubles. 

Crawford called another officer’s war council. All agreed that given their circumstances the only course of action open to them was to attempt a breakout after nightfall. Such a night movement by a professional army over known terrain is a tough task. To attempt that same trick with an amateur army on unknown ground was to invite disaster. Their hope was that darkness would cover their movements until they could reach the edge of the cover of the timber belts roughly five miles away. All realized they needed to reach the tree line by daybreak to have any chance of a fighting retreat. Their planned escape route was to pass between the Delaware and Shawnee camps toward the south, then bend back toward the southeast and home. Before nightfall the dead were buried and large fires built over their graves to disguise them. Supplies were packed and the wounded were made ready for travel. 

The move was set to begin at full dark. The militia army was to form four divisions for the march. The retreat began to unravel almost from the outset. A small Indian attack on the rear of the camp discovered the absence of the militia. Curiously, the Indian forces did not immediately rush in. As masters of the feigned retreat, they feared it might be a trap. The real first clash occurred in front of the army. The lead division passed between the Delaware and Shawnee camps and was attacked by both. The rest of the column tried to pass to the right of the first embattled division and blundered into a swamp. In the darkness desperate men and panicked animals were mired in the mud and turned the retreat into a rout. The army had not gone a quarter of a mile when Colonel Crawford stopped and began searching the passing companies of men looking for his son and son-in law. He asked Dr. Knight to stay with him and help him continue the search. Morning found Knight and Crawford separated from the main body of the army. They continued north, then east, seeking to elude the war parties looking for stragglers. 

Later that same morning the frontiersmen began to gather at the deserted Wyandot town they had passed a day earlier. Before they left the area they had collected nearly 300 men. The night foray into the swamp made the once proud army a sorry sight. Most had most had lost much of their equipment and supplies and many were missing horses. With Crawford now among the missing, leadership fell to Colonel David Williamson. He was a stout-hearted influence on the panicked group. He warned the remaining men to stay together, or none of them would get home alive. The Indian pursuit continued. In spite of their trying to avoid battle on the open plains, by two o’clock on June 6th the enemy horseman cut the pioneer army off, just short of the safety of the trees. At this critical point both Col. Williamson and the aide-de-camp Major Rose provided crucial leadership the steadying influence the militia needed. Both moved through the lines and alternately exhorted and cautioned their men to shoot straight, be calm, and hold their ranks. That strategy paid off as the frontiersmen were able to inflict enough casualties on the Indian army to break their attacks and finally reach the sanctuary of the tree line. The battle was finished by a terrible thunderstorm that drenched both sides and made their rifles useless. That fight would be remembered as the Battle of Olentangy. The Indians made no further attacks on the main body of the army as they made their way back to Mingo Bottom. 

Many who were separated from the main army did not fare as well. They were hunted without pause. At daybreak on the day of the retreat Col. Crawford, Dr. Knight and two other men attempted their own breakout. They were prisoners by three o’clock the following day. It was their particular misfortune to fall to a band of Delaware. As late as 1779 the Delaware had maintained a pro-American neutrality. Since then what were formerly best friends had now become bitter enemies. The Delaware were determined to see Col. Crawford burn at the stake but were in a diplomatically ticklish situation. Crawford was technically their prisoner but he had been taken in Wyandot country. The Wyandot had abandoned the practice of burning, and might take a dim view of such a ceremony. By a diplomatic sleight-of-hand the Delaware chiefs gained Half King’s permission, and Crawford’s doom was sealed. On the 11th of June he was tied to a stake and tortured while being slow roasted. It was at this point the begged his old comrade-in-arms, Simon Girty, to shoot him, and Girty replied by mocking him. He died one of the most gruesome deaths recorded in the Border Wars. For those wanting more of the gory details, I would suggest William Hintzen’s Border Wars of the Upper Ohio Valley or Indian Atrocities by Hugh Brackenridge. The latter work contains Dr. Knight’s eyewitness account of Crawford’s death. Sadly, Crawford faced death knowing that his son and son-in-law were dead. At the stake, Crawford was said to have committed his soul to God, and faced his fate with great fortitude. It was a tragic end for so fine a man and gallant officer of the American Revolution. The State of Ohio would later name a county in his honor. Dr. Knight was fortunate enough to escape some time later. 

No tale of Crawford’s campaign would be complete without mention of the miraculous escape of John Slover. Slover made it all the way to the Tuscarawas River before being captured. He had been a prisoner years before and had been adopted by the Shawnee. He spoke Shawnee like a Shawnee and had no illusions about his fate. When he was tied to the stake he later said he committed his soul to God in prayer and made ready to face death. In an incredible act of Divine Providence, a storm came up out of nowhere and drenched the flames that had been kindled to consume him. His execution was postponed until the next day. Around daybreak he made his escape. His escape and the manhunt that followed were as dramatic as any recorded in the Border Wars, perhaps save that of Sam Brady. 

The rest of 1782 would prove to be a watershed year in the west. Though both sides contemplated offensive actions, it would be the Indians who would carry the war to the enemy. They would burn Hannastown (modern day Greensburg, Pennsylvania) deal the Kentuckians a signal defeat at Blue Licks, and lay siege to Fort Henry a second time in mid-September. The British would nominally stop all offensive operations after that. 

Given that Crawford suffered so serious a defeat, there is always a temptation to compare it to Custer’s Last Stand. Though some might be tempted to call it as such, Crawford’s Defeat was not the Little Big Horn of the East. St. Clair’s Defeat, in 1791 better deserves that title. Still, a comparison of Crawford and Custer proves quite interesting. Custer was a professionally educated, career military officer. He was bold, cold, hardheaded, daring and career driven. He was generally disliked by his men, and outright hated by some of his officers. He went into his last battle seeking lost glory. In contrast, Crawford was a surveyor by trade and his military education was strictly on-the-job training. He would listen to the counsel of others, and was well extremely liked by his officers and men alike. Crawford ‘s call to his final fight came out of a sense of duty to his neighbors. Judging the two by the percentages of their commands lost to the enemy, the amateur beats the professional hands down. Best estimates for Crawford’s dead and missing are 70 men or a little over18%. The butcher’s bill for Custer’s command ran well over a third, or about double that of Crawford.

In terms of local frontier history Crawford’s Defeat would have one more lasting effect. Though eastern Ohio was alive with Indian war parties, a young man would go out there to help a survivor of that campaign recover his horse. In an age when a man who had actually killed an Indian was hailed as a man among men, this teenager would shock the world by slaying three in a single encounter. After this announcement of his coming of age, he would go on to become the most famous Indian fighter of his age. Courtesy of Zane Grey, early in the 20th century he would take his place in the pantheon of American myth just below Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett . His name was Lewis Wetzel.