BETWEEN Little Sandy and Clear Creek, a couple of streams which enter the
Illinois River, flowing from the east, in Putnam County, near Henry, there
is a beautiful, irregularly shaped farming region, about five miles in
length from east to west, and varying from one to two and a half miles in
width, from north to south. This is known as Ox Bow Prairie. The name comes
from a real or fancied resemblance of the lines of timber around this
prairie to an ox bow which the settlers used upon their patient animals for
draft purposes. The likeness, however, is greatly exaggerated, as that
region now appears, though perhaps before the present growth of younger
timber had appeared and the original marginal lines of the environing woods,
as yet unmarred by the axe of the settler, were clear and distinct, the
resemblance to an ox bow might have justly warranted the title.
With
the exception of a narrow neck at the eastern extremity, where the
projecting ends of the fancied bow do not join, the prairie is surrounded by
timber, gradually widening the lines of its boundary till near the western
limits, where they gracefully form into a circle, and meeting, form the
outlines of the tolerably perfect base of the mammoth bow.
The
timber growing near the two streams named comprises all the more valuable
kinds and varieties of trees found in this State. In these woods there is an
abundance of excellent water. There are numerous springs, which add their
generous contributions to the creeks, ravines and gullies, and are reached
under the surface of the prairie by wells varying from twenty to thirty-five
feet in depth. In this way unfailing quantities of pure water are obtained
and at trifling expense.
This prairie in olden times was one of the
best known localities in Northern Illinois, and in priority of date of its
settlement by white people, takes rank with the first made between Peoria
and the Wisconsin line.
In early days Ox Bow Prairie was as well
known as Galena, Chicago, Peoria or any point in the State. This section, by
reason of its geographical position, the wonderful fertility of its soil,
its fine drainage, its superior supply of water, and especially because it
was surrounded by heavy timber, seemed a very Garden of Eden to the
immigrant from the wooded countries of the East.
In consequence of
its peculiar location its settlement was rapid, and long ago it was so
completely improved that not a foot of its soil was left unoccupied.
Lyman Horram was one of the earliest settlers on Ox Bow Prairie, having
located there in October, 1830, selecting a place near where Caledonia was
originally laid out. Soon other settlers came in, and he found himself
surrounded by such neighbors as Capt. William Hawes, John Dent, George H.
Shaw, Ephraim Smith, Maj. Elias Thompson, Samuel Glenn, Isaac Glenn, Hiram
Allen, John Lloyd, Mr. McCaleb, William Kincaid, Hartwell Haley, Asahel
Hannum, George Hildebrand, Isaac Hildebrand, Townley Fyffe and John Boyle
and family. Besides these there were no other permanent settlers there until
about 1832.
He made his first visit to the West in 1827, and during
his meanderings stood upon Starved Rock, in La Salle County, in the summer
of that year. This was three years before any white persons had made a
settlement anywhere in that region of country. Dr. Walker, an esteemed and
well known missionary among the Indians, had established a school for
instructing Indian children near where Ottawa now stands. There were no
settlers anywhere along the Illinois River between Dr. Walker's mission
school and Peoria.
These Ox Bow Prairie settlers built a fort for
defensive purposes on a corner of Lyman Horram's farm. It was a well-built
stockade, enclosing about one-fourth of an acre of land, and had bastions at
the diagonal corners, from which those on the inside could protect the
fortification from attack by raking fires along the outer walls. The
settlers, from fear of danger, occupied their fort at night for about six
weeks, leaving it in the daytime, to attend to their respective duties. Mr.
Horram, however, made use of its sheltering walls for but one night only,
preferring to take his chances while attending more assiduously to the care
of his growing crops and his stock. One of his fields extended on two sides
of the fort, in which he had a splendid crop of growing oats. When they were
being harvested signs were discovered which indicated that they had afforded
shelter to prowling Indians, who had come within easy range of the fort for
reconnoitering purposes. If they had ever really intended to attack the
settlers their plans were abandoned when they learned of the to them
disastrous termination of the war which had been carried on by Black Hawk.
Among the few remaining dwellers on Ox Bow Prairie is Abner Boyle,
son of David Boyle, who came to the country in 1829, and with his sons built
a cabin and raised twenty acres of corn, yielding fifty and sixty bushels to
the acre. This they got ground at the mills on the Mackinaw River, fifty
miles away, and with a plentiful supply of venison, made a comfortable
"live" of it through the winter. Times were hard, but their wants were few,
and the average of enjoyment compared favorably with to-day.
My.
Boyle's cabin was a model of simplicity, being simply a pen of loosely laid
up logs covered with shakes. The spaces between the logs never having been
"chinked," windows were not required, and as cooking was done out of doors,
neither fire-place nor chimney were needed. In 1830 he was commissioned post
master by Gen. Jackson, and the office named Ox Bow; but people had little
time to write letters in those times, and it cost twenty-five cents to get a
letter from the East, so that commissions were not sufficient to pay for the
labor of opening and examining the mails, and he resigned.
During the terribly severe winter of 1830-31 the Ox Bow settlers were in
danger of suffering from want of sufficient food. By adhering to a rigid
economy, and taking the greatest care of their stocks of provisions, they
were enabled to pull through, the more needy and destitute having their
wants supplied by those who were better off.
In 1831 a hand grist
mill was put in operation by Mr. Z. Shugart, by which the people were
enabled to have their corn converted into meal and hominy.
Dr. David
Ritchie acted as physician to nearly all the settlers on Ox Bow, having
begun the practice of medicine there in 1831.
Rev. William Royal, a
Presbyterian minister, looked after their spiritual wants, performed the
marriage service for lovers, christened the children and buried the dead.
Church festivals and donation parties were not in vogue in those primitive
days.
The first school house that was built was located near
Caledonia, and Dr. Ashley was the first teacher who undertook to instruct
the young people therein.
During the Black Hawk war, Ox Bow Prairie was the scene of frequent
alarms. The red marauders had been seen skulking on the edge of the timber,
and in the dense brush along the creeks. They had killed cattle belonging to
Horrara and Mr. Glenn, near their owners' houses, besides committing other
depredations, and the people were justly in a state of constant fear for
their personal safety.
Shick-Shack brought word that the Indians
talked of coming in force to drive the whites away, and their daily
appearance was feared. While the stockade was being built a number of
families stayed at Enoch Dent's through the day and hid in the bushes at
night. Mr. James T. Hunt, of Wenona, remembers being sent aloft to watch
while his mother prepared the dinner below. The savory odor of victuals
coming up the chimney was more than the boy could stand, so he deserted his
post and came down, and was bolting a piece of pork when the door opened,
and all unbidden in stalked a tall Indian. "Not the least obeisance made
he," but he said in the best pigeon English he could command that he wanted
something to eat. The boy's hair "straight uprose," while Mrs. Dent jumped
beneath the bed. He was given the best in the house, and departed.
On another occasion a number of women had met at the house of Enoch Dent,
when a squad of Indians came past on their ponies. Some children, Mrs. Jas.
S. Dent among the number, saw them coming, and gave the alarm. Mrs. Hawes
ran up stairs, and the others scattered off into the bushes. Mrs. Dent ran
into the yard and hid under the scant foliage of some wild gooseberry
bushes, which only covered her back and shoulders, leaving her head and feet
exposed to the view of the Indians, who, pointing to her as they passed,
laughed immoderately.
In 1826, and until the deep snow of 1830-31, Ox Bow Prairie and the
timber around abounded with de.er, wolves, prairie chickens, quails,
blackbirds, crows, wild pigeons, snipe, etc. In the fall and spring numerous
water fowl, such as ducks, geese and brant, covered the lakes and ponds, and
sandhill cranes, for years a stranger to this section, were plentiful. There
were many squirrels, a few rabbits, grey foxes, wildcats, coons, pole-cats,
woodchucks, but no pheasants, and but few opossums. A few swans were seen at
times. That year was very fatal, and they were never so plentiful afterward.
Captain Hawes says the wild hogs found here sprang from tame animals
brought in by the settlers, and allowed to run wild. Hogs that were allowed
to ran out a single season got very "scary," and a few years would give them
all the characteristics of the wild hogs of Europe.
David Stateler
states that prairie chickens were never so numerous before as that winter
and the next season. They scratched holes in the snow to the ground, and
roosted in those holes safe from all foes. In walking through the fields,
these places could be seen by hundreds, and the chickens would not fly out
until you almost looked down upon them. But the quail and wild turkeys
perished, and nearly all the deer, and for several years after that fatal
winter but few of either were to be seen.
Besides the wild-cat, or
lynx, which the settlers frequently met with, they were outrageously annoyed
by wolves, which abounded in great numbers. They prowled around in close
proximity to the settlement in such numbers as to defy the dogs usually
found as appendages to every well regulated pioneer's family. Pigs, sheep
and poultry were particularly enticing to them, and upon which they levied
heavy tribute. A pack of twenty or thirty hungry wolves were too formidable
for a few dogs to attack, and when they attempted it they usually came off
second best. When they became too annoying, neighborhood hunts were
organized, at which many were killed. The Hon. John O. Dent, of Wenona,
describes one that came off in an early day, the centre of which was about a
mile south-east of Mount Pleasant, which corralled 250 deer and seventy or
eighty wolves. Thirty wolves and flfty-one deer were killed.
One evening in 1829 Captain Hawes and his family attended meeting at the
Hollenback cabin, and listened to a discourse by the Rev. Father Walker. At
the conclusion of the services, Adam Payne was called on to pray, and having
a good opinion of his oratorical powers, "laid himself out," as the phrase
is, for an unusual effort. He prayed for everybody, from Adam down, and
seemingly for every thing, at last winding up, after exhausting the patience
of all his hearers, including the minister. Father Walker spent the night
with Captain Hawes, and on their way home said to the latter, "Brother
Hawes, while Brother Payne was making that long prayer the devil whispered
in my ear that your house was on fire, but as he is such an unconscionable
old liar, I did not think he told the truth !" Captain Hawes was surprised
at the strange apparent intimacy between the devil and a good old Christian
minister, but made no reply. They jogged along without increasing their
speed, until coming in sight, the house was discovered ablaze around the
chimney, and enveloped in smoke ! They arrived just in time to save the
establishment, which, being built of hard wood, had burned very slowly.
The Captain has ever since been puzzled with the question: "What could
have been the object of his brimstonic majesty in notifying Father Walker of
the impending catastrophe ? Was it because he was wincing under the telling
blows the devout Payne was raining upon him, and therefore desired to close
the meeting?" To this day it is an unsolved riddle with the Captain, and he
can't understand the intimacy between the parson and his satanic majesty.
George Hannum, when a lad of sixteen, shot a half-grown wolf which approached too near where he was feeding his cattle, and impaling the animal on a pitchfork, strung the young cub across his shoulder and started for home. But the animal was neither dead nor asleep, as his captor too confidently supposed, and tiring of this mode of conveyance, reached down and caught the boy by the seat of his pants, including a goodly portion of the young man's person. The astonished, not to say terrified youth, uttering a Comanche-like yell of surprise and pain, jumped about six feet, and dropping his lively burden, sped for home, one hand grasping the wounded "seat of honor," and the other frantically clutching at space in general, and yelling for help ! The boys came to his relief, and the wolf was again made captive, but any reference to the adventure, or casual mention of a "fire in the rear," was ever afterward sure to provoke his ire. To this day it is said the mention of a wolf will involuntarily cause him to grasp the seat of his pantaloons.
Extracted 27 May 2017 by Norma Hass from Records of the Olden Time, 1880, by Spencer Ellsworth, pages 246-251.
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