CHAPTER XXI.

ATKINSON’S MOVEMENT UP ROCK RIVER–INDIAN CREEK MASSACRE–NARRATIVES.

On the 18th, after ten days’ rations had been issued, Atkinson, by order

No. 17, directed Whiteside to be in readiness to move up the river the

following morning, while Col. Johnson was to remain with his battalion

at Dixon’s as a corps of reserve until the return of the main army,

which contemplated a movement after the Indians the following morning,

or until further orders. Later in the day rumors of possible attacks

caused Atkinson, for better security of the post, to order the company

of Capt. James White to be in readiness to move to Fort Armstrong at any

moment. The necessity for departure that day was not, however, apparent,

but early the following morning the alarm along the frontier had grown

to such proportions that not only was Capt. White ordered to proceed at

once, but Capt. Seth Pratt’s company was added to the detail, under

orders of Capt. White, to proceed at once down the river in the “large”

keel boat with the sick and wounded, to report to Major Thomas J. Beall,

then in command of Fort Armstrong, Major John Bliss being left at

Dixon’s in charge of that post.

While many wild rumors were constantly afloat, no positive danger of

attack was apprehended up to this time, but when a delegation of

influential and reputable men from the settlements on the Fox and Du

Page rivers met the army the following day, some distance up the river,

and reported actual attacks and more in prospect, another order, No. 20,

directed Col. Johnson, with Major Bailey and the four companies of

Captains Covell, McClure, Pugh and Adams (then commanded by First

Lieutenant Benjamin Briggs, who succeeded to the command), to proceed at

once to those scenes, after first securing from Col. Taylor, while

marching, two kegs of rifle powder and one hundred pounds of lead. This

disposition left the three companies of Captains Eads, Barnes and Ball,

under Lieut-Col. Stillman at Dixon’s Ferry.

To ascertain the route pursued by the Indians after Stillman’s defeat, a

party composed of Elijah Iles and four others was ordered out. These men

passed around the late camp a distance of eight or ten miles. A trail

was found going in the direction of the Illinois River, which was

followed some distance without results. The second night out they were

alarmed by evidence which clearly proved the presence of Indians; pony

tracks, leaves turned up by the feet of the ponies and other

indisputable indications, which were followed by the sight of three

Indians, evidently searching for them. These were eluded and the second

night passed without event. Continuing the next morning a course down

Rock River, Black Hawk’s late camp on that river was found about noon,

deserted, with many canoes and other articles of Indian property left

behind. Again striking out for the army, the little party reached it

about night, when news of the murders at Indian Creek was received.

This scouting party learned that the trail toward the south was a ruse

to divert the army from intercepting their march to the north, which the

Indians covered with remarkable cleverness, a few of them going on to

Indian Creek to participate in the murders, while the others returned

north.[132]

On the 19th the army, ostensibly to pursue the Indians, moved twelve

miles up the river from Dixon’s Ferry and there camped for the night.

The following morning the march was resumed with more vigor, and by dark

Stillman’s battlefield was reached almost simultaneously with an express

bearing tidings of the murder of fifteen persons at the Davis

settlement, twelve miles above Ottawa, on Indian Creek, which empties

into the Fox about ten miles above its mouth. The effect of this

staggering news was immediately to place the army in the best possible

state of defense against attack, which might be made by the confederated

tribes of Sacs, Foxes, Winnebagoes and Pottowatomies at any moment, as

was then feared. Accordingly general order No. 21 was fulminated, and

detachments were sent to Dixon’s Ferry and other points, as will be

noticed hereafter:

“The order of encampment and the order of march observed by the

mounted volunteers will be continued. Should the brigade be attacked

in front on its march, the advance guard will, as far as practicable,

maintain its ground until the line can be formed and come up to its

assistance. Col. DeWitt and Col. Fry’s regiments will move up and form

line to the front, 100 paces in rear of the advance guard and

dismount; the regiments having been previously told off in squads of

seven, the fourth man of each squad will take charge of the horses.

The two regiments will then be formed on foot and advance to the

attack. In an attack on the right flank, Col. DeWitt’s and Col. Fry’s

regiments will form line on the right flank, with the battalion of

spies on their right. In case of an attack in the rear, Col. Fry’s

regiment, Col. James’ odd battalion, and Col. Thomas’ regiment will

form line, facing to the rear.

“In the several formations directed, those regiments not named will

remain in position, and be held in readiness to support the point of

attack when ordered. Brig.-Gen. Whiteside will cause these

dispositions for battle to be practiced as often as he may deem

necessary. The piece of artillery will be brought into action as

circumstances may require. Should the camp be attacked, they will be

formed in front of their tents and in rear of the fires. The regiments

thus posted will remain in their respective positions until otherwise

directed by the commanding officer. The Spy Battalion will occupy the

center of the camp, and be held in reserve, to be directed upon any

point that may require support. At night, the fires will be made 40

yards in front of the line of tents; the guard will consist of four

companies, one to be posted on the center of each front, 150 to 200

yards in advance. The sentinels will be posted at a proper distance,

which will be varied according to the nature of the ground. If the

guard should be attacked, it will maintain its position as long as

practicable, and if forced to retire, will do so in good order under

the direction of the officer of the day, who will instruct the guard

when mounted as to its disposition in this event.

“By order of Brig-Gen. Atkinson.

“A.S. JOHNSTON, A.-D.-C–A.A.A. Gen.”

This massacre was instigated by three of Black Hawk’s braves and

executed by them with the assistance of about seventy disaffected

Pottowatomies and Winnebagoes.[133]

In the spring of the year 1830 William Davis had made a claim on “Big

Indian Creek,” erecting a cabin, blacksmith shop (being a blacksmith by

trade), and later a mill. When Black Hawk invaded the state in 1832,

Davis was finishing a dam for the purpose of furnishing power to run the

mill, preventing thereby the running upstream of the fish, as was

claimed by the Indians. A numerous band of Pottowatomies, under their

chief, Meau-eus, lived in their village on this creek, six miles above

the dam, subsisting largely on the fish caught in that little stream.

Meau-eus, having been always a fine hater of the whites, grew

excessively angry at this obstruction, and in an attempt to destroy it

resistance followed, in which the Indians claimed one of the band was

unmercifully flogged by Davis, a man of powerful physique. For final

adjustment, the controversy was carried before Shabbona, who, in

conjunction with Wau-ban-se, concluded an arrangement whereby the

Indians were persuaded for the future to fish below the dam, which

involved but little additional labor and which they did for a time with

apparent good will, but beneath the surface a hatred lodged, only to be

spent when, through the assistance of Black Hawk’s braves, the

settlement perished.

John and J.H. Henderson, Allen Howard, William Pettigrew, William Hall

and others, with their families, had from time to time settled near the

place, until the settlement had grown to be one of the most promising in

northern Illinois.

After Black Hawk passed Dixon’s Ferry, it was not long before his

emissaries discovered the situation and made the best of it by

recruiting to his ranks the entire band, the very thing the Governor

attempted to prevent when he sent out his express from Dixon’s. The

Indians at once ceased to fish, a circumstance which Davis and J.H.

Henderson proceeded to investigate by visiting the village. They found

it abandoned, as they had feared, as was that of Wau-ban-se, who, by the

advice of Shabbona, had taken his men to the village of the latter after

both had sent their women and children to Ottawa for protection.

Stillman’s defeat followed, and then came Shabbona’s famous ride to warn

the settlements of the dangers which he too well realized were in store

for the Davis settlement. Never lived there a more devoted and upright

Indian than Shabbona! From the day he left the fortunes of Tecumseh he

neglected no opportunity to manifest his friendship for the whites, and

never was a more perilous ride projected in a frontier country than the

one he took with his son, Pype-gee, and his nephew, Pypes, that

memorable day down the Fox River Valley, on to Holderman’s settlement,

and, separating, thence on to Bureau Creek, passing through the Indian

Creek settlement on the route, missing none in all that vast territory.

Howard and the two Hendersons took their families to Ottawa and then

returned to work their farms. Pettigrew likewise took his wife and two

children to the same place, but finding no trouble in sight at the end

of a few days, he brought them all back again, reaching Davis’ house at

noon of the day of the massacre. Robert Norris and Henry George, young

men from the neighboring settlements, were also at the Davis house, so

on that particular day Davis naturally thought their numbers sufficient

to resist any attack; in fact, he had urged against any member of the

settlement removing to Ottawa for protection.

Pypes, or Pipe, as he was sometimes called, carried his messages safely

on down as far as Rochelle’s village, below the Illinois River, where he

tarried, as we are told, to urge his suit with a maid of great beauty at

that village. Returning home by way of the Indian Creek settlement, he

discovered, toward dark of the 19th, a large band of Indians entering

the timber, which fact he reported to Shabbona so soon as he reached the

latter’s village, about midnight.[134]

Once more the grand old chief mounted his pony and rode out into the

night, as he had before done so many times, to spread a warning. By

sunrise, every person in the settlement had again been notified and

given a chance to flee to Ottawa, but Davis, again protesting,

prevented.

As Shabbona subsequently told the story, these Indians camped near the

head of the timber on the creek, while reconnoitering parties surveyed

and learned the exact location and pursuit of each settler and

determined on a propitious moment for the assault. These did their work

thoroughly, leaving no possibility for escape by any number of the

intended victims. About 4 o’clock of May 20th the scattered settlers

were suddenly confronted by seventy Indians, led there by two

Pottowatomies named To-qua-mee and Co-mee, all of whom had so adroitly

covered their movements as to be able to reach the very dooryards before

discovery. The barking of a dog attracted the attention of Mrs. Davis,

who exclaimed, on looking out the door: “My God! Here they are now.”

Mr. Pettigrew attempted to barricade the door, but was shot down amidst

shrieks and whoops, signals for the slaughter which followed. The men at

the blacksmith shop were so completely surprised that no opportunity for

defense was offered. Hall was instantly dispatched. Norris attempted

resistance, but his gun was seized and in another instant he, too, was

dead. Davis, the strongest of the party, fought desperately by clubbing

his rifle, but to no purpose against such frightful odds, for no sooner

would he dispose of one antagonist than others would take his place with

added ferocity, for Davis was the man they most of all hated and feared,

and well he earned the distinction of being a fighter on that dreadful

day. The ground about his dead body was torn and bloody, indicating a

conflict second only to the hand-to-hand contest of gallant Captain

Adams at Stillman’s defeat. The brains of children were dashed out

against a stump; the women were butchered, and, after the most revolting

mutilations, their bodies were hanged, heads downward, to neighboring

trees.[135] Young William Davis and John W., a son of William Hall, made

their escape after desperate chances. Henry George, in attempting to

escape, jumped into the mill pond, but a bullet quickly disposed of him.

Spears, knives, tomahawks and rifles performed their bloody and deadly

offices, and the fiends afterward confessed they relished the sight

because the women squawked like ducks as the steel penetrated their

flesh. Mrs. Davis, in her fright, threw both arms about Rachel Hall, and

when shot down the muzzle of the rifle had been so close as to burn the

flesh to a blister. Aside from the few who escaped, but two, Sylvia and

Rachel Hall, aged, respectively, seventeen and fifteen years, were

spared, whether from a sentimental demand made by the two Indians,

To-qua-mee and Co-mee, before consenting to act as guides, or for the

purpose of ransom, cannot be definitely determined, but from subsequent

developments it is probable that both reasons were factors in their

preservation.

These two Indians, who subsequently confessed their part in the affair

to Louis Ouilmette, after their acquittal, insisted that it was agreed

the two young ladies should be spared because of the infatuation of

those young red men for them. They had been frequent visitors at the

Hall home, and endeavored, after the fashion of the Indian, to purchase

the girls from Mr. Hall.

Following is the narrative of the captivity of the Hall girls, reduced

to writing by them and John W. Hall, the manuscripts being now in

possession of Hon. James H. Eckles of Chicago, and by him loaned to be

used herein. Mrs. Eckles is a granddaughter of Mrs. Munson.

“A short and concise account of the capture, treatment and rescue of the

two Misses Hall. The capture occurred on the 20th of May, 1832, in the

afternoon, by the Sacs and Foxes, and the rescue on the 1st of June

following.

The following is a statement of the two girls, made in the presence of

William Munson and W.S. Horn, their husbands:

“In the afternoon of the 20th day of May, 1832, we were alarmed by

Indians rushing suddenly into the room where we were staying. The room

or house was situated on the north bank of Indian Creek, in the county

of LaSalle, State of Illinois, about 12 miles north of Ottawa. Here

our father and family, consisting of father, mother, four sisters and

three brothers, were stopping a few days. Father’s name was William

Hall, about 45 years old. Mother’s name was Mary Jane Rebecca, aged

45. The eldest sister’s name was Temperance Cutright, who was living

in McLean County, Illinois, at the time, and was about 27 years old;

eldest brother’s name was John W., who was at home, aged 23; Edward H.

Hall, aged 21; Greenbury Hall, aged 19 (these two last named were not

at the house at the time when the Indians made the attack); Sylvia

Hall, aged 17; Rachael Hall, aged 15; Elizabeth, aged 8. The house in

which we were belonged to Wm. Davis, who, with his family, contained

nine members. Mr. Pettigrew’s family, consisting of four members, were

also at the house, where those families were stopping together, in

order to protect each other in case of danger from the Indians. John

H. Henderson, Henry George and Robert Norris also were stopping at the

same house.

“John H. Henderson, Alexander Davis, Edward and Greenbury Hall, Allen

Howard, Wm. Davis, Jr., were in the field, about 100 rods south, at

the time when the Indians approached the house. Wm. Hall, Wm. Davis,

John W. Hall, Norris and George were at the time in a blacksmith shop

about sixty or eighty steps from the house, rather down the creek, and

near the bank and not far from the north end of a mill dam, which was

being built.

“Mr. Pettigrew was in the house, when all of a sudden the Indians came

to the door of the house. Pettigrew, with a child in his arms, flew to

the door and tried to shut it, but failed to accomplish his object,

being shot, and fell in the house. Then commenced a heart-rending

scene. Mrs. Pettigrew had her arms around Rachael at the time she was

shot, and the flash of the burning powder blew in her face. We were

trying to hide or get out of the way, while there was no place to get.

We were on the bed when the Indians caught us, and took us out into

the yard, two Indians taking each of us by the arms and hurrying off

as fast as possible, and while going, we saw an Indian take

Pettigrew’s child by the feet and strike its head against a stump, and

Davis’ little boy was shot by an Indian, two other Indians holding the

boy by each hand.

“We passed on to the creek, about 80 steps, when they dragged Rachael

into the creek and about half way across, when they turned back and

went near half way to the house, where Sylvia and Rachael got together

and were hurried up the creek on the north side, being the same side

the house stood upon, to where the Indians had left their ponies,

about 1-1/2 miles from the house. Here we found the Indians with

father’s horses and some of the neighbors tied up with their ponies.

We were then placed on a pony apiece, on an Indian saddle, and placed

near the center of the procession, each of our ponies being led, and

occasionally the ponies we were riding received the lash from someone

behind.

“We supposed that there was somewhere about 40 warriors, no squaws

being in this party. In this way we traveled until late in the night,

when the party halted about two hours, and the Indians danced a

little, holding their ponies by the bridles. We rested during this

time on some blankets, and both permitted to sit together. Then we

were remounted and traveled on in the same order until one or two

o’clock the next day, when they halted again near some bushes, not far

from a grove of timber (on our right). Just before we stopped, Rachael

made signs to them that she was tired, and was allowed to get off her

pony and walk awhile, and while walking we came to a stream of water

some three feet deep, and she was compelled to wade through the water.

Here we rested one or two hours while the ponies picked a little, and

some beans were scalded by the Indians and some acorns roasted, and

the Indians ate heartily, and we tried to, but it was very hard to get

much down while expecting all the time to fare like our beloved

friends, or worse. After thus resting, we were packed up as usual, and

traveled on a while, when some of the Indians left us for some time.

When they returned we were hurried on at a rapid rate some five miles,

while the Indians that were following had their spears drawn, and we

expected that the party while absent had seen some whites, and that if

we were overtaken they would destroy us.

“After having rode at this rapid rate for about one hour, they slacked

or checked their speed and rode on as usual, until near sundown, when

the whole party halted for the night, and, having built a fire, the

Indians required us to burn some tobacco and corn meal in the fire,

which was placed in our hands by them, which we did, not knowing why

we did so, except to obey them. We, however, supposed it might be to

show that they had been successful in their undertaking. The Indians

then prepared their supper, consisting of dried meat sliced, coffee

boiled in a copper kettle, corn pounded and made in a kind of soup;

they then gave us some of this preparation in wooden bowls, with

wooden ladles. We partook of those provisions, but did not relish

them, after which the Indians partook of their supper, prepared in the

same manner. After supper the warriors held a dance, and after the

dance concluded, we were conducted to a tent or wigwam, and a squaw

placed on each side of us, where we remained during this night,

sleeping what we could, which was but little. The Indians kept

stirring round all night. In the morning, breakfast in about the same

manner as supper. Breakfast over, the Indians cleared off a piece of

ground about 90 feet in circumference, and placed a pole about 25 feet

high in the center, and 15 or 20 spears set up around this pole, and

on the top of the spears were placed the scalps of our murdered

friends. Father’s, mother’s and Mr. Pettigrew’s were recognized by us.

There were also two or three hearts placed upon separate spears; then

squaws, under the directions of the warriors, as we understood it by

their jabbering, painted one side of our faces and heads red and the

other black, we being seated on our blankets near the center pole,

just leaving room for the Indians to pass between us and the pole.

Then the warriors commenced to dance around us with their spears in

their hands, and occasionally sticking them in the ground. And now we

expected at every round the spears would be thrust through us and our

troubles brought to an end, yet no hostile demonstration was made by

them toward us.

“After they had continued their dance about half an hour or more, two

old squaws led us away to one of their wigwams and washed the paint

off our faces, as well as they could, after scrubbing very hard. Then

the whole encampment struck tents and started in a northward

direction, while the whole earth seemed to be alive with Indians. This

being the third day of our suffering, we were very much exhausted, and

still we must obey the savage murderers, and while traveling now, we

were separated from each other during traveling hours, under charge of

two squaws to each of us, and being permitted to stay together when

not on the march under the direction of our four squaws, we now

traveled slowly over rough, barren prairie land until near sundown,

when we camped again, being left with our four squaws, with whom we

were always in company, day or night, they sleeping on each side of us

during the night.

“The warriors now held another dance, but not around us this time, as

before. Here we had all the maple sugar we desired, while the Indians

seemed to make as good preparations for our accommodation as they

could.

“About this time our dresses were changed, the Indians furnishing the

dresses. The one furnished Rachael was a red and white calico dress,

ruffled around the bottom. Sylvia’s was blue calico. The Indians now

tried to get us to throw away our shoes and put on moccasins, which we

would not do. They also threw away Rachael’s comb, and she went and

got it again and kept it. We now traveled and camped about as usual,

until the seventh day, when the Indians came to where we were and took

Sylvia off on to the side of a hill, about 40 rods from where we were

before, to where the Indians seemed to have been holding a council,

and one of the Indians said that Sylvia must go with an old Indian,

which we afterward learned was the chief of the Winnebagoes, and

called himself White Crow, and was blind in one eye, and that Rachael

was to remain with the Indians we had been with all the time. Sylvia

said she could not go unless Rachael went also. He, the White Crow,

then got up and made a speech, loud and long, and seemed very much

excited and interested. After he had concluded his speech, some

Indian, who called himself Whirling Thunder, went and brought Rachael

to where Sylvia was, and the chiefs shook hands together, and horses

were brought, switches cut to whip them with, and we were both placed

on horses, while one of the young Indians stepped up, and with a large

knife cut a lock of hair out of Rachael’s head over the right ear, and

one out of the back of the head and said to the old chief White Crow

that he would have her back (as we afterwards learned) in three or

four days. One of the Indians also cut a lock of hair out of the front

part of Sylvia’s head. Then we started and rode at a rapid rate, until

the next morning near daylight, when we halted at the encampment of

the Winnebagoes, and where a bed was prepared on a low scaffold with

blankets and furs, upon which we lay down until after daylight. This

was the morning of the ninth day of our captivity. After breakfast the

whole encampment packed up and placed us and themselves in canoes, and

we traveled all day until near sundown, by water, and camped on the

bank of the stream, the name of which we never knew, neither can we

now tell whether we traveled up or down; neither can we tell what went

with the horses on which we rode the day before.

“On the morning of the 9th we were up and had breakfast as usual with

the Indians very early, after which White Crow went round to each camp

or wigwam, as far as we could see, and stood at the opening with a

gourd with pebbles in it, shaking it and occasionally talking as if he

was lecturing, then he went off and was gone all day, while we

remained in camp. He came back at night, and for the first time spoke

to us in English and asked if father or mother was alive, and whether

we had any brothers or sisters. We told him we thought not, for we

expected they were all killed. When he heard this he shook his head

and looked very sorry, and then informed us that he was going to take

us home in the morning.

“Things remained as usual through the night. Next morning, being the

10th, White Crow went through the same performance as on the morning

of yesterday. Then 26 of the Winnebagoes went with us into the canoes

and crossed over the stream, swimming their ponies by the side of the

canoes. After landing on the other shore, all were mounted on the

ponies, and we traveled all day through wet land, sloughs and a growth

of underbrush, no water being where the underbrush grew.

“At night we came to where there were two or three families encamped.

(They expressed great joy at seeing us.) Here we stopped for the night

and camped. At the camp where we staid, White Crow and Whirling

Thunder staid. Here we had pickled pork, potatoes, coffee and bread

for supper for ourselves and the two chiefs, which we relished better

than anything we had since our captivity.

“After all the Indians had laid down, except White Crow, we laid down

on the bed prepared for us, and White Crow came and sat down by our

bed and commenced smoking his pipe and continued there, smoking the

most of the time until morning, never going to sleep, as we believe.

“The next morning, 11th, breakfast about the same as supper. The

Indian families with whom we staid bid us good-bye, and the same

company of 26 Indians as the day before started with us, and we

traveled over land that seemed to be higher than that traveled over

the day before, and more barren timber. About 10 a.m. we came to some

old tracks of a wagon, and now for the first time we began to have

some hopes that these Indians were going to convey us home, as they

said they would. And as we passed on we began to see more and more

signs of civilization. About three o’clock p.m. we stopped and had

some dinner, broiled venison and boiled duck eggs, and if they had not

been boiled so soon, the young ducks would have made their appearance,

and our stomachs would have revolted at such a mess as this. But the

Indians would never starve, if they could always get young ducks

boiled in the shell.

After this sumptuous feast, we traveled on until we found we were near

the fort at the Blue Mounds. White Crow then took Rachael’s white

handkerchief, or one that had once been white, and made a flag of it,

raised it on a pole, rode on about one-half mile, and halted. There

the Indians formed a ring around us, and White Crow and two others

went on towards the fort until they came within about one-half mile of

the fort, where they halted and remained until an interpreter met him

and ascertained what he wanted. When the interpreter learned what was

wanted, he returned to the fort, and the Indian Agent, Henry Gratiot,

in company with a company of soldiers, returned to where we were

enclosed. White Crow then delivered us over to the company of

soldiers, and we returned with the troops to the fort and found, to

the great joy of our hearts, two of our uncles in the company, Edward

Hall and Reason Hall.

“We remained here in the fort two nights and one day; obtained here a

change of clothing. It was now about the 1st of June. We started in

company with the same 26 Indians and a company of soldiers, with the

Indian agent, Henry Gratiot, for Gratiot’s Grove, which place we

reached at night, and remained over night with a family, the agent and

interpreter remaining with us, while the Indians camped near by. Next

morning White Crow made a speech to the company, in which he referred

to the incidents of our rescue. He also proposed to give each of us a

Sac squaw for a servant during life, which we declined, telling him

that we did not desire to have them placed in such a situation. Then

we, in company with the troops, went on to the fort at the White Oak

Springs (the Indians bidding us a final adieu at Gratiot’s Grove).

Here we remained three or four days, when J.W. Hall, our dear brother,

who we supposed murdered, met us, and from whom we learned that all

the families that were at the house of Davis, and all the individuals

that were present, were killed, himself excepted. Those in the field

at the time of our captivity made their escape to the fort at Ottawa,

LaSalle County, Illinois, and he, J.W. Hall, after seeing all fall by

the hands of the Indians, made his escape by jumping down the bank of

the creek and keeping under said bank on the side nearest the Indians,

until he could venture out in the prairie and get across to said fort.

His statements will be found in this work. There we remained two or

three weeks, and while there we were furnished with materials (by the

merchants and others, who seemed to take a great interest in our

welfare) to make us some clothing, which we made, in order to prepare

ourselves to pass through the country honorably, decently and

respectably. And we are very sorry we cannot recollect the names of

those kind friends, that they might appear upon record as a testimony

of their kindness to us in our destitute condition. May the blessings

of our Father in Heaven rest upon them all!

“From this place we went, in company with brother John W. Hall and

uncle Edward Hall to Galena. Here we staid at the house of Mr. Bells,

with whom we had a little acquaintance, some days. While here we

received rations from the army. We also found kind friends in

abundance, and received donations in clothing and other things, and

needed nothing to make us comfortable as we could be under such

circumstances. For what was supplied, all those friends have our

thanks, and now we take our leave of them and pass down the Fevre

River, to the Mississippi, then to St. Louis, Mo. Here we stopped with

Governor Clark, where we received all the attention necessary to make

us comfortable and happy, that could be bestowed by himself and kind

family. We also here received many presents in the way of clothing,

and through his (Hon. Gov. William Clark) influence, a sum of money

was raised and placed in his hands for our special benefit, amounting

in all, we believe, to the sum of four hundred and seventy dollars, to

be laid out in land and intrusted to the care of Rev. R. Horn, of Cass

County, Illinois, which was done at our request. There were also other

smaller sums donated to pay our expenses up the river homeward. Those

kind friends also have our thanks for their kindness and liberality.

We remained here a few days and took our leave of those kind friends,

probably never to meet again in this world. Leaving here, we took boat

for Beardstown, Cass County, Illinois, on the Illinois River, where we

were safely landed in due time and escorted out in the country five

miles east, by brother J.W. Hall and uncle Edward Hall, who had been

with us all the time since leaving Blue Mounds, to where we had an

uncle, Robert Scott, living here. Here we remained about two months

while brother J.W. Hall went up to Bureau County, Illinois, which is

about 40 miles from where we were captured, Uncle Edward returning to

Galena. About the last of September or first of October, 1832, brother

J.W. Hall returned, and in his company we went to Bureau County,

Illinois, where we remained with brother J.W. Hall until the next

spring.

“Some time in March, 1833, sister Rachael was married to a William

Munson. Then sister Sylvia staid part of the time with brother Green

and part with Rachael until in May, 1833, sister Sylvia was also

married to William S. Horn, and removed to Cass County, Ill.[A] Thus

we have given the circumstances of our captivity and rescue as near as

we can recollect at this date, September 7, 1867, in the county of

Nemaha, State of Nebraska, where Sylvia Horn lives and where I and my

husband have been paying them a visit.

“Rachael Munson,

“Sylvia Horn.”

In presence of:

“W.S. Horn,

“W. Munson.”

State of Nebraska} September, 1867.

County of Nemaha.}

“I, John W. Hall, being requested by my sisters, Sylvia Horn and

Rachael Munson, to state what I recollect in reference to the massacre

of my father’s family, and the captivity of my two sisters, Rachael

and Sylvia, would most gladly comply with their request, so far as I

can; but after 35 years of toil have passed over my head since that

memorable occasion, my memory is in some things rather dim; yet there

are some things that I do remember most distinctly, and shall as long

as I have a being (I think).

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[Illustration: MRS. RACHAEL HALL MUNSON.]

[Illustration: MRS. SYLVIA HALL HORN.]

[Illustration:

INDIAN CREEK MONUMENT.

Inscribed thereon is: “William Hall, aged 45;

Mary J. Hall, aged 45; Elizabeth Hall, aged 8;

William Pettigrew, wife and two children; –– Davis,

wife and five children, and Emery George.

Killed May 20, 1832.”

]

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“It was in 1832, as near as I now recollect, on or about the 15th or

16th of May, Old Shabbona, chief of the Pottawatomies, notified my

father and other neighbors that the Sac and Fox Indians were hostile,

and would in all probability make a raid on the settlement where we

lived and murder us and destroy our property, and advised him to leave

that part of the country (LaSalle County, Illinois) and seek a place

of safety; but Indian rumors were so common, and some of our neighbors

did not sufficiently credit this old Indian, and we were advised by

them, in connection with others, to collect together as many as

possible and stand our ground and defend each other; so after spending

the night and consulting together and hiding all heavy property that

we could, my father loaded up his wagon and we started for Ottawa, and

meeting Mr. Davis, who lived about two and a half miles west, who had

been at Ottawa the day before, and had learned that a company had gone

out in a northerly direction, to see what they could learn about the

Indian movement, who were to report on their return, to Mr. Davis, in

case of danger, he, my dear father, was prevailed on by Davis to

abandon his retreat and stop at Davis’, where Mr. Pettigrew and

family, Mr. Howard and son, Mr. John H. Henderson and two men that

were hired by Mr. Davis, Robert Norris and Henry George, were all

stopping. On or about the 20th day of May myself and dear father were

working under a shed adjoining a blacksmith shop, and on the west

side, next to the dwelling house, Mr. Davis and Norris were at work in

the shop. Henry George and William Davis, Jr., were at work on a mill

dam a little south of the shop. It being a very warm day in the

afternoon, someone brought a bucket of cool water from the spring to

the shop, and we all went into the shop to rest a few minutes and

quench our thirst.

“Brother Edward Hall, Greenberry Hall and Mr. Howard and son,

Henderson and two of Mr. Davis’ sons were at this time in the field,

on the south side of the creek, and in full view of the house, and

about one-half mile from the house, planting corn. While we were

sitting resting ourselves in the shop, we heard a scream at the house.

I immediately said, ‘There are the Indians now!’ and jumped out of the

door of the shop, it being on the opposite side from the house, and

the others followed as fast as they could, and as we turned the corner

of the shop, I discovered the dooryard full of Indians. I next saw the

Indians jerk Mr. Pettigrew’s child, four or five months old, taking it

by the feet and dashing its brains out against a stump. Seeing Mr.

Pettigrew back in the house, I heard two guns, seemingly in the house,

and then the tomahawk soon ended the cries of those in the house, and

as near this moment as possible they fired about twenty shots at our

party of five, neither of us being hurt, that I know of. The next

motion of the Indians was to pour some powder down their guns and drop

a bullet out of their mouths and raise their guns and fire; this time

I heard a short sentence of a prayer to my right and a little behind.

On turning my eyes to the right I saw that my dear father was lying on

the ground shot in the left breast and expiring in death. On looking

around, I saw the last one of the company were gone or going, and the

Indians had jumped the fence and were making towards me. Mr. Davis was

running in a northeast direction for the timber. Looked back and said,

‘Take care,’ he having his gun in his hands. I at this time discovered

quite a number of Indians on horseback in the edge of the woods as

though they were guarding the house, to prevent any escape. Then it

flashed into my mind that I would try and save myself. I think there

were 60 or 80 Indians. I immediately turned toward the creek, which

was fifteen or twenty steps from where I stood. The Indians by this

time were within three paces of me, under full charge, with their guns

in hand. I jumped down the bank of the creek, about 12 feet, which

considerably stunned me. At this moment the third volley was fired,

the balls passing over my head, killing Mr. Norris and George, who

were ahead of me, and who had crossed the creek to the opposite shore,

one in the water and the other on the bank. I then passed as swiftly

as possible down the stream, on the side next the Indians, the bank

hiding me from them. I passed down about two miles, when I crossed and

started for Ottawa, through the prairie, overtaking Mr. Henderson, who

had started ahead of me, and we went together until we got within four

miles of Ottawa, when we fell into company with Mr. Howard and son and

three sons of Mr. Davis and my two brothers, all of whom were in the

field referred to, except one of Mr. Davis’ sons, who was in the shop

when the first alarm was given, and who immediately left when he heard

the cry of Indians. We all went to Ottawa together in the short space

of one hour or less, it being twelve miles (and the county seat of

LaSalle County). Here we aroused the inhabitants and raised a company

during the night and started the next morning for the dreadful scene

of slaughter and butchery.

“On the way we met with Stillman’s defeated troops, who had been

defeated a night or two before, they having encamped within four miles

of where the bloodthirsty Indians passed the night, after they had

killed my dear friends, and instead of going with us and helping bury

the dead, they passed on to Ottawa, and we went to the place where the

massacre took place. And what a scene presented itself! Here were some

with their hearts cut out, and others cut and lacerated in too

shocking a manner to mention, or behold without shuddering. We buried

them all in great haste, in one grave, without coffin, box or anything

of the kind, there to remain until Gabriel’s trump shall wake the

nations under the ground, and call to life the sleeping dead.

“We then returned to Ottawa and organized a company out of a few

citizens and some of Stillman’s defeated troops, into which company I

enlisted. The next day we were on the line of march, in pursuit of the

red savages, to try, if possible, to get possession of my two eldest

sisters, who were missing, and who, we were satisfied, had been

carried away with the Indians when they retreated, from signs found on

the trails. We proceeded up Rock River, above Sycamore Creek, and our

provisions failing, we returned to Ottawa and laid in provisions for a

second trip. Here I had a conversation with General Atkinson and

proposed that some means be used with friendly Indians, in order to

purchase my sisters, as I feared the Indians would, in case we

overtook them, kill my sisters. He then informed me that he had that

morning made arrangements with Winnebago Indians to try to purchase my

sisters.

“Now we started the second time in pursuit, and proceeded up Rock

River, and fell in with a company of volunteers, under General Dodge,

from whom we learned that the friendly Indians had succeeded in

obtaining my sisters, and that they were at White Oak Grove or

Springs. Then, in company with a company of regulars, under General

Atkinson’s orders, we marched to a place called the Burr Oak Grove, or

Kellogg’s old station. Here I, with some others, was detached to guard

one of the company, who had stabbed his comrade, to Galena, and we

started at midnight. Arriving at Galena, I obtained a furlough, and

went to the White Oak Springs, where I found my sisters, and returned

with them to Galena, stopping at the house of Mr. Sublets, visiting

Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Bells, who were acquaintances of father’s.

“Here we remained a week or ten days. Then bidding those kind friends

adieu on board the steamer Winnebago, we glided down Fever River to

the Mississippi, and down that stream to St. Louis, Mo., and stopped

at the Honorable William Clark’s mansion (governor of Missouri), where

we met and enjoyed the company of his kind family. Here we remained

about one week, and were made as comfortable and happy as his family

and friends could make us.

“We received presents and money, an account of which has been given by

my sisters in their statement, and here I wish to express my thanks to

those kind friends for their hospitality, sympathy and love, for I

feel that we have been brought under lasting obligations to them.

“Leaving here, we took a steamer for Beardstown, on the Illinois

River, in Cass County, near to which we had an uncle Scott living.

Arriving safely at Beardstown, we were conveyed to our uncle’s, five

miles out, where we remained a few days, and, leaving my sisters here,

I went up the Illinois River to Bureau County and lived in a camp

until I could build me a house. This county adjoins LaSalle on the

west. The Indians, having received a dreadful scourging, had become

peaceable, and in the fall I returned to Cass County and took my

sisters and returned to Bureau County again, where we tried to make

ourselves as comfortable as possible. This fall I married, and my

sisters lived with me through the winter and in the spring, after

which they both married, and now I am at the house of the eldest,

Sylvia Horn, and dictated the above lines, while my brother-in-law,

W.S. Horn, committed them to paper.

“September, 1867.

“J.W. Hall.”

In presence of:

“W.S. Horn,

“Sylvia Horn.”

Late in the afternoon of the 20th, while Capt. George McFadden, Wilbur

Walker and others who had been to ask Governor Reynolds and General

Atkinson for the four companies ordered by them to go under Colonel

Johnson were passing this point, some two miles distant, on their return

trip, the shots of that frightful massacre were heard, but in their

haste to reach their own settlements they did not pause to investigate

the cause.

The following day the company of Capt. Joseph Naper, from Chicago, which

had been ranging the country, reached the scene and buried all the dead

except little Jimmie Davis, a lad of seven years, who had been spared at

first and taken along, but who, being unable to keep the pace demanded,

was shot a short distance out. The scene was awful, but the lad showed a

spirit of fortitude attained by none other in this war of brutal

slaughter. The two Indians who had him in charge held him between them,

one by each hand, while another shot him down in cold blood, and then,

before life was extinct, his scalp was lifted and his body left a prey

for wolves or carrion birds. The little fellow blanched like marble, but

received the fatal shot without a quaver. Later his body was fortunately

discovered and buried with the others.

To-qua-mee and Co-mee, who were indicted for complicity in the murders,

were brought to bar for the crime, but by reason of the uncertainty of

the times and judges to try them, the first term of court passed with

nothing done except to admit the culprits to bail on the bond of

Shab-bo-na, Shem-e-non, Snock-wine, Sha-a-toe, Mee-au-mese and

Sash-au-quash, chiefs and head men of the Pottowatomie nation. Before

the next term of court could be held the tribe had been removed west of

the Mississippi, whither went the two defendants. When needed for trial

they were sought by Sheriff George E. Walker, who alone journeyed into

the Indian country. He gathered together the several chiefs, according

to custom, who decided the two must return, which they did, with no

effort or inclination to escape. This conduct, together with the lavish

use of paint, rendered recognition almost impossible by the Hall girls,

who were the chief witnesses for the State, and procured their acquittal

by the jury.[136]

A deep scar ran across the face of To-qua-mee, by which the Hall girls

easily recognized him at the murder of their parents, and by which they

could easily have recognized him on his trial, but, thanks to the

ingenuity of counsel, who had him so bedaub his face with paint,

recognition was all but impossible. A little later, when he bathed in

the Illinois River with his friends, the imposture was discovered and he

was forced to flee for his life to escape the wrath of the settlers.

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[Illustration: CAPT. ROBERT BARNES.]

[Illustration: CAPT. WILLIAM HAWS.]

[Illustration: COL. JOHN STRAWN.]

[Illustration: LIEUT. COL. WILLIAM COWEN.]

-----

Footnote 132:

Iles’ Early Life and Times, p. 43. The author claimed the presence of

Col. William S. Hamilton in his party, but in that he was mistaken, as

Col. Hamilton returned to Galena with Strode.

Footnote 133:

The statement by Matson that one Mike Girty was connected with the

Indian Creek massacre is incorrect.

Footnote 134:

Matson’s “Memories of Shau-be-na.”

Footnote 135:

Matson.

Footnote A:

That part of Morgan County subsequently organized into Cass County in

1837.

Footnote 136:

Kee-was-see was another defendant, Armstrong 368. Richard M. Young was

the judge, Thomas Ford the prosecutor, and Hamilton and Bigelow

attorneys for defense at that time.

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