On the 27th of April, General Whiteside, accompanied by Governor
Reynolds, took up his line of march. The army proceeded by way of Oquawka,
on the Mississippi, to the mouth of Rock River, and here it was agreed
between General Whiteside and General Atkinson, of the regulars, that the
volunteers should march up Rock River about fifty miles, to the Prophet's
town, and there encamp to feed and rest their horses, and await the arrival
of the regular troops in keel boats, with provisions.
Judge Thomas,
who again acted as quartermaster to the volunteers, made an estimate of the
amount of provisions required until the boats could arrive, which was
supplied, and then General Whiteside took up his line of march. But when he
arrived at the Prophet's town, instead of remaining there, his men set fire
to the village, which was entirely consumed, and the brigade marched on in
the direction of Dixon, forty miles higher up the river. When the volunteers
had arrived within a short distance of Dixon, orders were given to leave the
baggage wagons behind, so as to reach there by a forced march. And for the
relief of the horses, the men left large quantities of provisions behind
with the wagons. At Dixon, General Whiteside came to a halt, to await a
junction with General Atkinson, with provisions and the regular forces; and
from here parties were sent out to reconnoitre the enemy and ascertain his
position. The army here found upon its arrival two battalions of mounted
volunteers, consisting of 275 men, from the counties of McLean, Tazewell,
Peoria, and Fulton, under the command of Majors Stillman and Bailey. The
officers of this force begged to be put forward upon some dangerous service,
in which they could distinguish themselves. To gratify them, they were
ordered up Rock River to spy out the Indians. Major Stillman began his march
on the 12th of May, and pursuing his way on the southeast side, he came to
"Old Man's" Creek, since called "Stillman's Run," a small stream which rises
in White Rock Grove, in Ogle County, and falls into the liver near
Bloomingville. Here he encamped just before night, and in a short time a
party of Indians on horseback were discovered on a rising ground about one
mile distant from the encampment. A party of Stillman's men mounted their
horses without orders or commander, and were soon followed by others,
stringing along for a quarter of a mile, to pursue the Indians and attack
them. The Indians retreated after displaying a red flag, the emblem of
defiance and war, but were overtaken and three of them slain. Here Maj.
Samuel Hackelton, being dismounted in the engagement, distinguished himself
by a combat with one of the Indians, in which the Indian was killed, and
Major Hackelton afterward made his way on foot to the camp of General
Whiteside. Black Hawk was nearby with his main force, and being prompt to
repel an assault, soon rallied his men, amounting then to about seven
hundred warriors, and moved down upon Major Stillman's camp, driving the
disorderly rabble, the recent pursuers, before him. These valorous
gentlemen, lately so hot in pursuit when the enemy were few, were no less
hasty in their retreat when coming in contact with superior numbers. They
came with horses on a full run, and in this manner broke through the camp of
Major Stillman, spreading dismay and terror among the rest of his men, who
immediately began to join in the flight, so that no eff ort to rally them
could possibly have succeeded. Major Stillman, now too late to remedy the
evils of insubordination and disorder in his command, did all that was
practicable, by ordering his men to fall back in order, and form on higher
ground; but as the prairie rose behind them for more than a mile, the ground
for a rally was never discovered; and besides this, when the men once got
their backs to the enemy, they commenced a retreat without one thought of
making a further stand. A retreat of undisciplined militia from the attack
of a superior force is apt to be a disorderly and inglorious flight. And so
it was here; each man sought his individual safety, and in the twinkling of
an eye the whole detachment was in utter confusion. They were pursued in
their flight by thirty or forty Indians for ten or twelve miles, the
fugitives in the rear keeping up a flying fire as they ran, until the
Indians ceased pursuing.
"But there were some good soldiers and
brave men in Stillman's detachment, whose individual efforts succeeded in
checking the career of the Indians, whereby many escaped that night who
would otherwise have been the easy victims of the enemy. Among these were
Major Perkins and Captain Adams, who fell in the rear, bravely fighting to
cover the retreat of their fugitive friends. But Major Stillman and his men
pursued their flight without looking to the right or the left, until they
were safely landed at Dixon. The party came straggling into camp all night
long, four or five at a time, each new comer being confident that all who
had been left behind had been massacred by the Indians. The enemy was stated
to be just behind in full pursuit, and their arrival was looked for eveiy
moment. Eleven of Stillman's men were killed, and it is only astonishing
that the number was so few.
As this is mainly a local history, we give the individual recollections
of Edwin S. Jones of this affair, now and for many years past a respected
citizen of La Prairie. He was an Orderly Sergeant in Captain Eads' company,
and enlisted at Peoria, where they were several days in camp previous to
setting out. They were equipped with the old-fashioned musket of that day,
and decidedly averse to discipline, each individual considering himself a
free American citizen, able singly to subdue and capture a half dozen
Indians. At Boyd's Grove, where they camped for the night, they were joined
by Captain Barnes and his company, and at Bureau by Captain Baughman and
twenty-eight men, when they received orders to push on to Dixon, where the
Indians stole many of their horses. While here they were joined by a
detachment of the regular army under Col. Zack Taylor, and Lieuts. Jeff.
Davis and Sidney Johnson. Between the volunteers and regulars jealousy and
ill feeling at once sprung up, the former looking upon the soldiers as
"stuck up" and supercilious, while the regulars frowned with contempt upon
the "greenhorn farmers," fresh from the plow and hoe. The volunteers,
burning with impatience to pounce upon the foe and capture them, and fearing
lest that honor might in any way be divided with the regulars, could hardly
be held within bounds, and when their commander, Major Stillman, received
orders to reconnoitre the enemy's position, the men hailed it as a
permission to attack the Indians if found.
On the 10th of May, 1832,
they started up Rock River in the midst of a pelting storm, the volunteers,
being without tents or shelter. They marched several miles and went into
camp, cold, wet and cheerless, remaining until Monday, when they moved
forward to Rock River, where Major Stillman took charge of the detachment to
which the writer belonged, known as the "odd battalion." A portion of the
command came from Tazewell County, and were an unusually "hard lot." They
had brought with them a barrel of whisky, of which the men had partaken
freely, and Major Stillman, fearing its demoralizing effects, ordered it
taken in charge by Mr. Jones, which duty he performed until relieved, when
he proceeded to join his company. As he was mounting his horse an order came
to "Forward," but the Tazewell troops refused to go until they had got their
"bitters." They smashed in the head of the barrel and filled their coffee
pots, besides drinking freely; then joined in the march. Arriving at what
has since been known as "Stillman's Run," then called "Old Man's Creek,"
they found a region of swamps and morasses, into which they plunged, and
found considerable difficulty in getting through, after which the command
went into camp. While preparing their dinners a party of mounted Indians
approached and fired from a distance, which set the horses to rearing, and
created something of a panic. The cry of "Indians! Indians!" was raised,
when the drunken soldiers mounted their horses and went galloping forward,
yelling like maniacs. The warriors came on in good style and began firing,
by which several of our men fell, when, with scarcely a return shot, the
cowardly rabble turned and ran for dear life, throwing away guns, hats and
coats. They were frightened out of their wits, and their cowardly fear
communicated to the whole camp, which broke up in wild disorder. But all
were not cowards, and a few resolute men rode out and met the savages,
giving them a blizzard which emptied a few saddles and sent them to the
right about. Another party now appeared, and news came that the Indians had
surrounded The men who had pursued them, and we pushed on to their relief.
On the way several dead Indians were found, and three were taken prisoners.
The captives said they came to make peace and not to fight. We rode on a
hard canter for five miles, until a wide swamp was reached, beyond which the
retreating Indians were seen. Orders came to plunge in, and in we went.
Horses were mired and the men too, and when we had got well into the trap
for trap it was we were surrounded by the painted devils, who came whooping
and yelling and pouring the contents of their muskets right in our faces. No
man who has ever heard an Indian yell will wonder that men who had never
been under fire became panic-stricken. An officer in the rear shouted
"Halt!" and then came the word to retreat to solid ground. We did so, but
the Indians were shooting wickedly, and it was impossible to form a line. As
fast as one was formed, the demoralized mob behind, covered with mud arid
mire, would break through and "streak it" as fast as their legs permitted.
Captain Barnes came up and did his best to rally the men, but in vain. We
arrived in camp at dark, the Indians in hot pursuit, yelling and firing upon
us. A detachment of the savages got in our front, which filled our men with
greater terror than ever. All order was now lost, each man being chiefly
interested in getting off with his scalp. Mr. Jones and a man named Miner
struck up the creek and, in crossing, Miner's horse fell, but both got over
safely and joined Captain Eads, who had formed some of his men, and haying
reloaded their muskets, felt better. The Indians were everywhere, and
several times deluded the whites by crying "Help!" in good English, and
shooting at any one who responded. The whites .dare not shoot in the dark
for fear of killing more friends than foes, and so the rout continued until
Dixon was reached, thirty-five miles away, the Indians dogging the
retreating army at a distance, and watching for stragglers.
Jones
reached Dixon the morning after the inglorious action, about daylight, and
shared the same blanket with Stillnian, who remarked: "Well, Sergeant, the
war has begun, and the Lord knows how it will end!"
Jones credits
Stillman with being a brave man and a thoroughly skilled tactician, but
unable to manage recruits unused to military restraint, and who would not
submit to discipline. But the chief cause of this shameful defeat and flight
and the demoralization of the entire force, was that barrel of whisky.
Our soldiers captured three Indians, whom they shot on the retreat while
prisoners, an act of barbarity wholly without excuse or apology.
While breakfasting at Dixon, Mr. Jones met at the same table a number of
men, some of whom in after years became famous, and others infamous in the
history of the country. They were: Zach. Taylor, afterward President of the
United States; Jeff. Davis, Chief of the Southern Confederacy; Gen. Sidney
Johnson, one of his ablest Generals; General Atkinson, then a man of
deserved fame as a good soldier, and Major Stillman, the hero of the
inglorious defeat mentioned in this chapter.
The baggage train of Stillman's army consisted of six wagons, drawn by
oxen and guarded by fifty mounted Rangers, commanded by Captain Hacldeton.
Among his recruits was a tall, raw-boned lad, said to be the homeliest man
in the company, and answering to the cognomen of "Abe." He was the wag of
the command, and the best story-teller in the service. When the march was
over they gathered about him in crowds, and listened to his wonderful yarns
with an interest that never slacked. In after years it was his fortune to
command all the armies of the United States, and meet his death at the hands
of an assassin. With such spirit of mischief embodied in one person as he
possessed, fun was life in the company, and Capt. Hackleton to test the
courage of his command, manufactured an Indian scare. Having made his plans
known to the guards, with a few trusty fellows he repaired to the brush and
raised a terrific war-whoop, while the pickets fired off their guns.
The whole command was aroused, and the men, fearing Indian warriors had
attacked them, and would in a few moments be in their midst, cutting,
slashing and scalping, rushed pell-mell, swearing, praying, and nearly
frightened out of their wits, to the rear, where a guard with fixed bayonets
stopped their retreat, explaining the joke. The surgeon of the company
mounted his horse, but forgot to untie him from the tree. Under the spur the
animal sprang forward the length of the rope, and then back again, striking
the Doctor's head against the limb of a tree. Believing himself struck by an
Indian, the frightened surgeon, at the top of his voice, in supplicating
tones exclaimed: "Mr. Injun! I surrender. Spare my life!" This became the
by-word of the camp, and was the standing joke among the heroes of the Black
Hawk war for years.
"In the night, after their arrival
at Dixon, the trumpet sounded a signal for the officers to assemble at the
tent of General Whiteside. A council of war was held, in which it was agreed
to march early the next morning to the fatal field of that evening's
disaster. In consequence of the ill-advised and misjudged march from the
Prophet's town, the wastefulness of the volunteers, and leaving the baggage
wagons behind to make a forced march without motive or necessity, there were
no provisions in the camp, except in the messes of the most careful and
experienced men. The majority had been living upon parched corn and coffee
for two or three days. But Quartermaster Thomas, anticipating the result of
the council, went out in search of cattle and hogs, which were obtained of
Mr. John Dixon, then the only white inhabitant on Rock River, above its
mouth. By this means, before daylight the next morning the army was supplied
with fresh beef, which they ate without bread; and now they began their
march for the scene of the disaster of the night before. When the volunteers
arrived there the Indians were gone. They had scattered out all over the
country, some of them further up Rock River, and.other toward the nearest
settlements of white people.
Soon as Black Hawk was relieved of the
presence in his front of the volunteers, he determined on a general
slaughter of all the whites north and west of the Illinois River, in what
now constitutes parts of Marshall, Putnam, Bureau and La Salle Counties.
Shaubena, learning that such fate was in store for all the settlers,
hastened to give them warning, riding night and day, and calling at every
man's cabin. He performed his often thankless work of mercy so promptly and
thoroughly that all might have escaped had they heeded his advice and urgent
appeals. He appeared at Indian Creek on the 15th of May, and told them of
Black Hawk's purpose. Mr. J. W. Hall started for Ottawa with his family, but
at the cabin of a Mr. Davis, a Kentuckian, a large, powerful and resolute
man, he was persuaded to remain. Here were also gathered the families of
Davis and Pettigrew. Davis had fled to the block-house fort at Ottawa the
year before, when the Indian scare occurred, and been taunted with a want of
courage when it was found to have been only a false alarm. Rather than be
again subject to a suspicion of cowardice, he resolved to stay and fight the
Indians, should they come.
In the afternoon of May 20, seventy or
eighty redskins appeared and began an attack upon these almost defenseless
people, killing fifteen persons and taking prisoners two girls, Rachel Hall,
aged fifteen, and Sylvia Hall, aged seventeen, the details of whose
captivity given in the next chapter are mainly taken from Matson's
"Reminiscences of Bureau County." "The Indians immediately retreated into
the Winnebago country, up Rock River, carrying the scalps of the slain and
their prisoners with them. Indian wars are the wars of a past age. They have
always been characterized by the same ferocity and cruelty on the part of
the Indians. To describe this massacre is only to repeat what has been
written a hundred times; but the history of this war would be imperfect
without some account of it. The Indians approached the house in which the
three families were assembled, in the day-time. They entered it suddenly,
with but little notice. Some of the inmates were immediately shot down with
rifles, others were pierced with spears or dispatched with the tomahawk. The
Indians afterward related with infernal glee how the women squeaked like
geese when they were run through the body with spears, or felt the sharp
tomahawk entering their heads. All the victims were carefully scalped; their
bodies were mutilated and mangled; the little children were chopped to
pieces with axes; and the women were tied up by the heels to the walls of
the house; their clothes falling over their heads, left their naked persons
exposed to the public gaze.
Extracted 30 Aug 2018 by Norma Hass from Records of the Olden Time, 1880, by Spencer Ellsworth, pages 105-112.
| Bureau |  |
LaSalle |
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