Fort Harrison

In October 1811, troops led by General William Henry Harrison built a stockade on elevated ground above the Wabash River, in an area that now forms part of Terre Haute, Indiana. This outpost, known as Fort Harrison, served as a place where Harrison gathered his men before marching to the Battle of Tippecanoe the following month. Less than a year later, the fort became the scene of a notable clash during the War of 1812, a siege that unfolded in September 1812 and stood as the first major triumph for American forces in that conflict. By 1818, with settlement pushing further west, the outpost had outlived its purpose and was left behind.

Siege of Fort Harrison

For nine days in September of 1812, from the 4th through the 12th, a small American garrison held out against a much larger Native American force near what is now Terre Haute, Indiana, in a clash that would become known for its lopsided numbers and its significance as the first American land victory of the War of 1812.

Trouble began on September 3, when a group of Miami warned Captain Taylor that a large Native force intended to strike soon. Gunfire echoed that evening, though Taylor held back from sending scouts into the darkness. His garrison numbered only fifty men, and illness had thinned his effective fighting strength to a mere fifteen. Come morning, a search party found the remains of two settlers, the Doyle brothers, buried them, and returned to report the grim discovery at the fort.

With fifteen healthy soldiers and roughly five able-bodied settlers, Taylor prepared his defense, distributing sixteen rounds of ammunition to each of his twenty men. That same day, September 4, an enormous force numbering some six hundred warriors, drawn from the Potawatomi under Chief Pa-koi-shee-can, the Wea led by War Chief Stone Eater, along with Shawnee, Kickapoo, and Winnebago fighters, converged on the fort. Forty men led by Kickapoo Chief Namahtoha approached under a truce flag, requesting a parley with Taylor the following morning. Taylor accepted the terms, and the assembled warriors withdrew to their camp for the night.

Darkness brought treachery, however, as a warrior crept close enough to set the blockhouse ablaze. Sentries fired at the arsonist, triggering a full assault from the six-hundred-strong war party against the fort's western flank. Taylor dispatched the surgeon along with several defenders to battle the flames. Because the blockhouse connected to the barracks, which held a whiskey supply, the fire quickly grew uncontrollable once the alcohol caught. Taylor later confessed the outlook seemed dire, and indeed two of his healthy men abandoned their posts and fled. Yet the captain rallied his people, declaring that he would never surrender, and organized a bucket line to keep the flames from consuming the fort's protective walls. Julia Lambert, one of the women present, even climbed down into the well herself so buckets could be filled faster.

Ironically, the blaze proved useful in one regard: its light exposed the attackers hidden in the darkness. The inferno tore a twenty-foot gap into the outer wall, which defenders hastily patched with a breastwork standing five feet tall. Despite their small numbers, the remaining garrison answered the Native fire with such intensity that the assault was repelled. Every invalid capable of holding a weapon joined the defense, freeing healthy men to repair the breach. By dawn on September 5, the wall stood mended. The attacking force pulled back beyond rifle range and, within view of the fort, slaughtered nearby farm animals. Inside, the defenders faced a bleak situation of their own: the fire had destroyed most of their provisions, leaving only a handful of corn bushels between them and starvation.

Word of the siege reached Vincennes just as Colonel William Russell happened to be passing through, leading a company of regular infantry alongside a company of rangers en route to join Ninian Edwards, the governor of Illinois Territory. Russell combined his forces with local militia and the 7th Infantry Regiment, then marched toward Fort Harrison to break the siege. More than a thousand men reached the area from Vincennes on September 12, prompting the Native force to withdraw. The following day brought new violence, though, when a supply train trailing behind Russell's men was struck in an incident later called the Attack at the Narrows, located in present-day Sullivan County, Indiana.

Trailing the relief column toward Fort Harrison was a detachment of thirteen soldiers commanded by Lieutenant Fairbanks of the Seventh Infantry, guarding a wagon stocked with flour and meat. On September 13, 1812, Potawatomi warriors ambushed this wagon at a stretch of trail called The Narrows, close to what is now Fairbanks, Indiana, an area cut through with ravines feeding into Prairie Creek. The attack sent the draft horses into a panic, and they bolted with the wagon still attached. Only two men lived to reach Fort Knox: the wagoneer John Black and Private Edward Perdue, though Perdue's wounds were severe enough