Here is the latest review I have received for Animal Parts from the US Review of Books:
Peter Romero, an officer with the Cochiti Pueblo Police Department, has been having a hard enough time as it is lately, what with a struggling marriage and local officials breathing down his neck. But his life is really thrown for a loop when he not only is tasked with killing a cougar who has attacked hikers, but also the cougar shows up in his bed still very much alive. The cat wants revenge for his murdered mate and cub, and he wants Romero’s help. Romero then finds himself embroiled in a thrilling mystery that involves everything from poaching, a black market for animal organs and parts, windigos, and even murder. With the help of the cougar as well as the spiritual world, Peter must find the key to solving the mystery.
This book certainly hits the ground running, forcing readers to hold on as they go through this whirlwind mystery and thriller. This is a story that both captivates the audience and compels them to hold their breath with each turn of the page. It even comes complete with a twist ending. Though this story may be the third installment in the series, it still provides the juicy details that fans of the previous books are looking for without ignoring the desire of luring in a new audience. Readers will fall in love with not only the thrilling adventure the author has invited them into but also the character of Romero. He is a uniquely complex and competent character that readers will definitely be rooting for.
Between 1689 and 1763, there were no less than four colonial wars (often called World War Zero) involving France, Britain, Spain, and their respective colonies. These conflicts were expressions of European competition over balance of power, expansionism, mercantilism, and Native American alliances.
In the summer of 1720, colonial New Mexico Governor Antonio Valverde y Cosío found himself entangled in one episode of these international conflicts: the early days of America’s longest (1622 – 1924) and deadliest war (40 million deaths), The Indian Wars.
Governor Valverde had a problem. Rumors circulated in the Southwest that French troops planned to seize Santa Fe’s gold and silver mines. A recent expedition had reported the French were bribing Pawnee, Otoe, and Missourias with gifts, including firearms, to guarantee their loyalty. Quite often, colonists dreaded other European powers more than they feared their Native American neighbors, and these stories kept frontier Spaniards on edge, especially Valverde.
After relaying his concerns to the viceroy in Mexico City, Valverde appointed his own lieutenant governor, Pedro de Villasur, to lead a long-range scouting expedition eastward to seek out and put an end to French mischief. On June 16, 1720, a well-armed military excursion departed Santa Fe with both Valverde’s and Villasur’s expectations that this mission could be easily accomplished.
Villasur’s force was composed of forty-two regular soldiers from Santa Fe’s royal presidio and sixty Pueblo fighting men under their own war captain. Father Juan Minguez, Indian interpreter José Naranjo, and the French-speaking Juan L’Archiveque accompanied the force. Villasur also used the Pawnee Francisco Sistaca, a Spanish slave, as interpreter to local tribes until the man disappeared.
Villasur guided his men to Taos, crossed over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, then angled northeast to the Great Bend of the Arkansas River in today’s central Kansas. From there the Spanish cut northward to the Platte River and followed it downstream to the junction with the Loup River in eastern Nebraska where the Spaniards came upon large numbers of Pawnee and Otoe. Negotiations lasted for several days, with the Indians growing increasingly hostile.
Out-numbered, Villasur withdrew his men upriver to just south of modern-day Columbus, Nebraska, camping next to tall grass and trees on August 13. The horses were turned out to graze and sentinels posted for the night. Sixty Pueblo allies, perhaps distrustful of the lax security, encamped separately nearby.
Pawnee and Otoe warriors attacked at dawn the next morning. The Spanish were asleep at this hour and it is possible the deserter Sistaca had given his brother Pawnee this critical intelligence.
Accompanied by heavy musket fire and punishing flights of arrows, the Natives charged into combat clad only in warpaint, headbands, moccasins, and short leggings. In a brief battle thirty-six Spaniards died. Villasur was killed in front of his tent. Chaplain Minguez fell while rushing to his aid. L’Archiveque, Naranjo, and ten Pueblo scouts also died that day.
Among the Spaniards, only one officer and a dozen soldiers escaped alive, along with fifty of the Pueblo allies. The escape to Santa Fe stretched roughly 600 miles and the sixty-three survivors nearly perished by the time they reached the edge of New Mexico. Friendly Jicarilla Apaches rescued and accompanied them to Santa Fe.
After Interviewing the survivors, Valverde was alarmed to hear that the Indians had been carrying a French flag during the battle. Further, some of the returning Spaniards claimed to have seen Frenchmen in uniform (37 are depicted in Segesser II. See Figure 1.) fighting alongside Pawnee and Otoe warriors.
The fate of the Villasur force had become one of the most grievous episodes in New Mexico’s colonial period. The slaughtered soldiers represented more than a third of the royal garrison, and Santa Fe went into mourning. Stricken, Governor Valverde, wrote in his report: “When I contemplate the fields with the spilt blood of those who were the most excellent soldiers in all this realm … my heart is broken.”
Subsequently, many Spaniards questioned Valverde’s decision to allow the inexperienced Villasur to lead such an important mission. Authorities in Mexico City charged Valverde with facilitating the murder of troops through the botched expedition.
After seven years of investigation, Valverde stood before a board of inquiry. The court fined Valverde, the richest man in New Mexico, two hundred pesos. A lenient judgement under the circumstances.
Nevertheless, the historic importance of the Villasur Expedition is undeniable. The defeat of the Spanish allowed France free reign in conducting trade with Native Americans in the region until the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. Given this heritage, the influence of the expedition in the territorial and economic evolution of the United States is profound.
But the story does not end there.
Today, an extraordinary piece of art (named the Segesser after a previous owner) remains a visible connection to the event that rocked New Mexico long-ago. In 1988, supporters of the Santa Fe Palace of Governors and the state acquired the 17-foot-long 137 square-foot painting on bison hide under the slogan “Save Our Hides.”
The artwork, painted by contemporary artists from survivors’ testimony, consists of two sections. Segesser I (at the top of Figure 1), depicts a fight between Spanish-allied Pueblo Indians and Plains Apache, that occurred sometime between 1693 and 1719. Segesser II (at the bottom of Figure 1), illustrates the Villasur Massacre. Below, the faded paintings have been reproduced for better viewing.
In Figure 2, uniformed soldiers fire at an enemy to the right. Mounted fighters are the Spanish and their Indian allies.
In Figure 3, Villasur lies mortally wounded behind his white tent (lower left). The blue-robed and wounded Chaplain Minguez (center) runs to deliver last rites before his own death. In the same frame, brightly painted and naked Plains Indians fight French soldiers wear European-style uniforms and tricorn hats.
Figure 4 shows the New Mexico force’s last stand. Spanish defenders, Soldado de Cuera – leather jacket soldiers – hold bull hide shields and wear period hats. Muskets of the day, Miquelet-lock flintlocks, were normally fired from the hip.
Native Americans demonstrated, as they were to prove repeatedly, they were a military force to be reckoned with and a serious obstacle to Euro-American westward expansion.
The artwork is not only a rare example of the earliest known depictions of colonial life in the United States, they carry the very faces of men whose descendants live in New Mexico today. The Segesser hides are on display in the New Mexico History Museum, Palace of the Governors in Santa Fe.
A swirling mass of feathered, painted men and horses. The whistle of bullets and arrows. The coppery smell of blood and acrid odor of burned gun powder. The co-mingled screams of men and horses. The shrill wail of trumpets drowned by the ululating trill of warriors tasting victory. A last stand of men in blue, then the silence of a terrible peace on a hillside in June, 1876.
Today, when Americans read or hear about the Indian Wars, they are routinely exposed to a Hollywood version with familiar names like Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, and George Armstrong Custer. All three fought at The Battle of the Little Bighorn where Custer and five of his cavalry companies lost their lives.
The battle, mythologized in our national memory, is correctly described as a calamity, but is Custer’s Last Stand the worst Army disaster inflicted by Native Americans?
Eighty-five years prior, on a day so cold, men loaded musket balls with their lips instead of frozen fingers, the new U.S. Army was handed its most decisive (and little known) defeat by Indians. Near present-day Fort Recovery, Ohio, an Indian confederacy humiliated the young Army at the Battle of the Wabash, commonly referred to as St. Clair’s Defeat. Of nearly 1,100 soldiers, militia, and camp followers, only 24 were unharmed – a casualty rate three times that of the Little Bighorn.
For comparison, let’s review the two conflicts in reverse order:
The Little Bighorn, June 1876
After gold was discovered in South Dakota’s Black Hills in 1875, the U.S. Army ignored existing treaties and invaded the region. As a consequence, many Sioux and Cheyenne left their reservations to join Lakota leaders Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse in Montana. By late spring of 1876, more than 10,000 Native Americans had gathered in a camp along the Little Bighorn River in defiance of a War Department order to return. In mid-June, three columns of U.S. soldiers marched to enforce the order. The Sioux turned back the first column on 17 June at the Battle of the Rosebud. Brigadier General Alfred Terry then ordered Custer’s 7th Cavalry to scout ahead for enemy troops.
On the evening of 24 June after an overnight march, Custer’s Crow and Arikara scouts arrived at an overlook above the Little Bighorn River. At sunrise, the scouts, reported a massive pony herd and signs of a big village 18 miles distant. Custer prepared for attack but did not order further reconnaissance, fearing he may have already been discovered.
Despite incomplete intelligence on enemy size (Lakota, Dakota, Cheyenne, and Arapahoe may have numbered as many as 2,500 warriors) Custer divided his 12 companies of cavalry in preparation for an attack on the morning of 25 June. Three companies each were placed under the command of Major Marcus Reno and Captain Frederick Benteen. Five remained under Custer (one other company had previously been assigned to escort the pack train).
At mid-day, Reno attacked the village intent on capturing the women and children as hostage. Word spread quickly. Sitting Bull rallied warriors to protect the helpless. Crazy Horse set off with a large force to meet the Americans head on (accounts from this point vary).
Custer’s men, inexperienced and exhausted from the overnight march, were overwhelmed and retreated to a nearby hilltop. Troopers of the 7th Cavalry put up a dogged defense. A group of braves attacked the cavalrymen from the north in a surprise charge causing panic while the attackers counted coup with lances, coup sticks, and quirts. Nevertheless, soldiers defending the northern portion of Custer’s field inflicted most of the Indian casualties in a tenacious defense. Although some soldiers ran, they ultimately fought as long as they could.
Custer’s troops were annihilated within an hour of engagement. Indian warriors termed this segment of the fight a buffalo run and called it a last stand.
Lakota and Cheyenne forces then regrouped to attack Reno and Benteen hunkered on hills nearby. The fight continued until dark and for much of the next day. On 27 June, reinforcements under General Terry arrived and Native forces withdrew.
Of 647 men in the 7th Cavalry, 16 officers, 242 troopers,18 men who fought with Reno and Benteen, and 10 Indian scouts were lost. The Custer family made up nearly one-third of the total officers killed: Custer, two of his brothers, his brother-in-law, and a nephew.
As so often happens, the military scrambled to find a scapegoat. Custer was faulted for dividing his command prior to battle (an accepted mode for attacking villages) and of attacking too early (a curious accusation given Custer’s promotions for daring during the Civil War). Major Reno and Captain Benteen were criticized for disobeying Custer’s orders and failing to help. Indian agents were reproached for under-reporting the number of warriors off the reservations.
Left nearly destitute in the aftermath of her husband’s death, Libbie, Custer’s wife, became an outspoken defender of his legacy. Largely as a result of her books and lectures, Custer’s image as the gallant fallen hero amid the glory of Custer’s Last Stand has persevered in American cultural memory.
Battle of the Wabash, November 1791
The treaty ending the Revolutionary War recognized United States sovereignty of all land east of the Mississippi River and south of the Great Lakes. Indian leaders such as Little Turtle and Blue Jacket refused to recognize American claims to the area northwest of the Ohio River. As a consequence, during the mid and late 1780’s, American settlers suffered approximately 1,500 deaths by hostile Natives. Whites often retaliated, adding to the cycle of violence.
President George Washington ordered Major General St. Clair, Governor of the Northwest Territory, to crush Little Turtle’s Miami tribe. Preparations at Fort Washington (present-day Cincinnati, Ohio) were slowed, however, by logistics and supply problems. Additionally, new recruits were poorly paid, trained, disciplined, food supplies were substandard, and horses were short in number and of poor quality.
The expedition, consisting of regular and levy troops, set out in October 1791 with the objective of Kekionga, capital of the Miami tribe, near present-day Fort Wayne, Indiana. General St. Clair, sick with gout, had difficulty maintaining order. Indians shadowed his force. Snow and frigid temperatures slowed the march. This combination of morale-degrading conditions had devastating effect: desertion dwindled the force from two thousand to around 1,120 men and camp followers.
While St. Clair lost soldiers, Little Turtle’s Western Confederacy, consisting of Miami, Shawnee, Delaware, and Potawatomi, added numbers bringing the total to more than 1,500 warriors. In a prelude to the War of 1812, most Indian nations sided with the British against the U.S. Accordingly, British military officers accompanied Little Turtle as advisors.
On the evening of 3 November, St. Clair’s force established a camp on a wooded hill near present-day Fort Recovery, Ohio, 58 miles northwest of Dayton. Warriors waited until dawn, then struck after the soldiers had stacked their weapons and gone to breakfast.
Advised by his British officers, Little Turtle directed his first attack at the militia, who fled across a stream without their weapons. The regulars immediately grabbed their own muskets and fired a volley into the Indians, forcing them back. Little Turtle flanked the regulars and closed on them. St. Clair’s artillery wheeled into position, but Indian sharpshooters dropped the gun crews.
Colonel William Darke ordered his battalion to fix bayonets and charge the main Indian position. Little Turtle’s forces retreated to the woods, then encircled Darke’s battalion, destroying it. Numerous bayonet charges met with similar results until the U.S. forces collapsed in disorder. St. Clair had three horses shot out from under him as he tried unsuccessfully to rally his men.
After three hours of fighting and faced with total annihilation, St. Clair attempted one last bayonet charge. As before, Little Turtle allowed the bayonets to pass through, but this time the soldiers ran for nearby Fort Jefferson. The Indians pursued, but broke off and returned to loot the camp of supplies and torture to death the abandoned wounded.
The main battle lasted three hours. In it, 632 military were killed and 264 wounded. Nearly all two hundred camp followers were slaughtered. While Little Turtle and Blue Jacket were the immediate victors, they would pay a future cost.
A congressional investigation found mismanagement by contractors and the Quartermaster, as well as a lack of discipline and experience in the militia. Congress eventually authorized the formation of a new army, The Legion of the United States. It would be better trained, better supplied, with a proven leader, Major General (Mad) Anthony Wayne. His first assignment: finish what St. Clair had failed to do.
Both battles would have long-lasting impact on America’s future, politically, militarily, and for the Native American way of life.
For its part, Custer’s Last Stand turned out to be the last, large-scale Native resistance to American encroachment. The Sioux victory at the Little Bighorn serves as a brilliant end piece to 380 years of warfare but is often referred to as the Indians’ last stand.
At St Clair’s Defeat, Indians of the Old Northwest would eventually lose their traditional life-style as well, but this shining moment in Native American history yielded repercussions as far as Europe. St. Clair’s Defeat showed the world America was weak and not in control of its territory. England, France, and Spain coveted this rich and strategically important area. In a little over 20 years, the War of 1812 would follow.
While the Little Big Horn may be considered the end of the Native American era, St. Clair’s Defeat marked the beginning of the American era. The annihilation of St. Clair’s forces threatened the existence of the four-year-old U. S. government itself and created a turning point in policy by underscoring the necessity of a strong defense, an issue relevant to this day. Consequently, a re-energized American military sealed the ultimate fate of Native Americans as the United States developed into the predominate force in North America.
The 7th cavalry suffered a 52% casualty rate with 286 killed and 49 wounded at the Little Bighorn, but the casualty rate at St. Clair’s Defeat was substantially higher with 88% officers lost and 97% enlisted dead or wounded (most non-ambulatory wounded died) for a total of over 900 military and civilian casualties, more than any battle of the Revolutionary War or conflict up to the Civil War. Approximately one-quarter of the entire U.S. Army had been wiped out.
Libbie’s campaign, Hollywood lore, and popular opinion aside, when viewed strictly from a military standpoint, St Clair’s Defeat, the forgotten battle, stands as Native Americans’ most ruinous victory over the U.S. Army.
 Anton Truer, The Indian Wars, (Washington D. C.: National Geographic Society, 2016) 94
I sponsored the 18th tee and two military golfers at the recent Coronado (CA) Rotary Club Golf Tournament. Our club raised $80,000 for worthy charities, many of them veteran support charities. I have included some happy military golfers and my tee poster.
Most of us have heard of the political slogan “Tippecanoe and Tyler too”, but where did it come from and what does it mean? The saying was used throughout the presidential campaign of William Henry Harrison and John Tyler during the election of 1840. Harrison won largely on his victory over the Shawnee at the Battle of Tippecanoe, but the battle spawned a curse lasting more than 120 years.
General William Henry Harrison (1773 – 1841)
“Old Tippecanoe.” Governor of the Indiana Territory, a principal contributor in the War of 1812, and the ninth President of the United States. Harrison (left) was the son of founding father Benjamin Harrison and in turn was the grandfather of Benjamin Harrison, the 23rd president. He was a survivor of the 1791 massacre by Little Turtle and his Miami braves at St. Clair’s Defeat.
Colonel Abram Owen (1769–1811)
Aide-de-Camp to General Harrison. A veteran Indian fighter, Colonel Owen (right) was wounded during St Clair’s Defeat and participated in many battles during a twenty-year military career. He was a Kentucky legislator and served in the state’s constitutional convention. His death at the Battle of Tippecanoe changed history.
Tecumseh (1768 – 1813)
Shawnee warrior, chief and primary leader of a large Native American confederacy in the early years of the nineteenth century. Born in present-day Ohio. Growing up during the American Revolution and the Northwest Indian War, Tecumseh (shown left) envisioned the establishment of an independent Indian nation east of the Mississippi River under British protection.
Tenskwatawa, The Prophet (1775 – 1836)
Commonly known as The Prophet and spiritual leader of the Shawnee. Brother of Tecumseh. In 1808 Tenskwatawa (right) and Tecumseh established a village Americans called Prophetstown north of present-day Lafayette, Indiana. There, the brothers’ pan-Indian resistance movement included thousands of followers, with The Prophet providing the spiritual foundation. Together, they mobilized local Native Americans to fight the invading Americans and remained resolute in their rejection of alien authority and acculturation.
In November 1811, as tensions and violence increased in Indiana Territory, Governor (and General) Harrison marched an army of about 1,000 men to disperse Native Americans gathered at Prophetstown.
Tecumseh was away recruiting allies. When Harrison arrived with his army, he asked for a meeting. The Prophet, suspecting the general’s true intentions, attacked November 7 at 4:00 a.m. The outnumbered attackers penetrated Harrison’s lines, but his soldiers stood their ground for more than two hours until the braves retreated, low on ammunition.
After the battle, the Indians abandoned Prophetstown. Harrison burned it to the ground, destroying the food supplies stored for the winter. Having accomplished his goal, Harrison proclaimed a decisive victory.
Public opinion blamed the violence on British interference in local affairs. As a result, the battle helped sway the country toward war in 1812. For the natives, the battle was the end of their dreams of a confederacy against white encroachment, and forced them to join forces with the British as the only defense to their way of life.
Tippecanoe’s battlefield monument, as it stands today, is shown above.
The Owen Connection
Col. Abram Owen is my fourth great uncle on my mother’s side. The Owen family has produced U.S. military members (including this author) since before the American Revolution.
Colonel Owen, a veteran of frontier struggles, died in the first few moments of the Tippecanoe Battle in a tragic mix up. The Prophet had informed his sharpshooters that General Harrison rode a white horse and directed all their efforts toward killing him. However, in the heat of battle, Harrison grabbed a dark-colored horse and Colonel Owen mounted a white one. The illustration above depicts that fateful moment. In it, Colonel Owen lies dead on the ground (Source: Indiana Public Library).
Owen’s unintentional sacrifice saved the life of a future president. In praise of Owen, General Harrison said, “… let me not forget the gallant dead. Col. Abram Owen, Commandant of the Eighteenth Kentucky Regiment, who joined me a few days before the action…accepted the appointment of volunteer aide-de-camp to me. He fell early in the action.” Harrison added, “The representatives of his state will inform you that she possessed not a better citizen, nor a braver man.”
Where are they now?
General William Henry Harrison
Harrison lived to become the oldest president ever elected at the time. However, he died of pneumonia a month after taking office. Tyler then assumed the presidency, setting a major precedent and ultimately the adoption of the 25th Amendment to the Constitution. Harrison is buried in North Bend, Miami Township, Ohio.
Colonel Abram Owen
Colonel Owen is buried where he died. His tombstone is visible in the lower right corner of the photo above. His name is also engraved on a plaque visible on the white monument to the left of the tree. Park rangers believe some of the park’s trees were living at his death in 1811. Two counties, one in Indiana and one in Kentucky, are named after Owen.
As a result of the battle, Tecumseh’s confederacy never fully recovered. This led to a further deterioration of relations between America and Britain and was a catalyst of the War of 1812, which began six months later. Tecumseh was killed by Americans in 1813 during the Battle of the Thames near present-day Chatham, Ontario. It is believed the chief’s mutilated remains were left on the battlefield.
Today, the U.S. Naval Academy has a Tecumseh Court which features a bust of Tamanend, an Indian chief who was known as a lover of peace and friendship. However, midshipmen prefer the warrior Tecumseh and refer to the statue by that name.
Tenskwatawa, The Prophet
Legend says that Tecumseh was so incensed at his brother’s ill-fated rush to battle, he swung The Prophet by the hair. The Prophet became an outcast, and moved to Canada during the War of 1812. He remained in exile until returning to the United States in 1824 to assist with the Shawnee removal to Kansas. He faded into obscurity and died in what is now known as Kansas City in 1836. His influence lives on in the form of a deadly curse.
The Curse of Tippecanoe
In revenge, The Prophet reportedly cursed all U.S. presidents elected during years with the same end number, zero, as Harrison.
The curse, first widely noted in 1931 by Ripley’s Believe it or Not! says that ever since Harrison became president (1840), every person elected to the office in 20-year intervals has died while serving as president. Harrison succumbed to pneumonia after just one month in office. Abraham Lincoln (1860) was assassinated, as were James A. Garfield (1880) and William McKinley (1900). Both Warren G. Harding (1920) and Franklin D. Roosevelt (1940) died of natural causes in office, while John F. Kennedy (1960) was assassinated. Ronald Reagan (1980) was the target of an assassin’s bullet, but survived.
Does the Prophet’s curse still hold? To paraphrase Yogi Berra, tough times ain’t over ‘til they’re over.