Indian Creek Massacre and Captivity of Hall Girls / Complete history of the massacre of sixteen whites on Indian creek, near Ottawa, Ill., and Sylvia Hall and Rachel Hall as captives in Illinois and Wisconsin during the Black Hawk war, 1832

The next morning the chiefs accompanied by about forty warriors put the girls in canoes and swam their horses across the river alongside of the canoes, landing above the mouth of Black Earth Creek. The horses were mounted in haste, but as most of the warriors had to travel on foot and were impeded by marshes and underbrush on the flat bottom, the progress was slow. The girls watched the sun with eagerness in their endeavor to tell which way they were traveling and were assured thereby that they were again going southward, although only in a circuitous course. Hour after hour passed away, the girls all the while expecting to catch sight of the fort. Finally, as the sun was sinking off over the Wisconsin River, the Indians once more camped for the night on the bank of a creek.

There were two or three Indian families camped at this place, and on seeing the girls they expressed great joy. In a short time the squaws had prepared a supper consisting of pickled pork, potatoes, coffee and bread for the girls, White Crow and Whirling Thunder, the rest of the Indians dining apart from them. The meal was the best cooked and the spread the cleanest that had been placed before the girls, and it tempted their appetite so that they made a very fair meal, after which they felt sleepy and were glad when they could lie down to rest. In a short time most of the Indians had retired, excepting White Crow, who seated himself close to the girls, where he smoked a pipe all night. This was the first time that a warrior had kept guard over them, and the inference of the girls was that the old chief feared an attack of the Sacs who had visited their camp at Portage. The girls thought that perhaps the Indian chief who had been rebuffed at that place might have gone after recruits, and that at any moment the Indians might swoop down upon them. Now, when they were almost within grasp of their freedom, it racked the minds of the girls to think that there was a possibility of being slaughtered or again carried into captivity. In this condition of mind the girls passed the night.

The camp was astir at sunrise and for the last time White Crow went around performing his religious service by rattling his gourds and addressing the Indians. After breakfast the girls were again mounted on their ponies and all moved forward over higher ground, and before ten o’clock they had reached the Military Road from Fort Winnebago, by way of Blue Mounds, to Prairie du Chien. The sight of the wagon tracks was the first sign of civilization that the girls had observed since their captivity and increased their confidence in the probability of their early release. Also, the road was much better than any they had traveled since their capture. It led through groves and oak openings, along the high ridge that is unbroken to the Mississippi River. Inspirations of hope were necessary to revive the girls’ spirits and enable them to complete the remainder of their long journey, as they were exhausted to the verge of collapse. Hope is a great stimulant, and it was on this that the girls were now subsisting.

About two o’clock in the afternoon the Indians halted for lunch and to let their horses feed. The principal food was duck eggs, nearly hatched, that the Indians ate with relish, but which the girls rejected with disgust. After lunch they had not traveled far until they caught sight of Blue Mounds Fort in the distance. White Crow took a white handkerchief that Rachel had tied on her head, which he fastened on a pole for a flag of truce, and rode in advance of the Indians and their captives. In a short time Lieutenant Edward Beouchard, who was commander at the fort, met them and addressed the Indians in their own language. The warriors now formed a circle into which Beouchard rode and he and the Indians talked at considerable length. According to Beouchard’s subsequent statement the Indians were unwilling to give up the girls until they were assured by Col. Gratiot that the $2,000 reward would be paid. Beouchard having assured the girls that they would be well treated by the Indians until his return, went back to the fort and soon returned with Col. Henry Gratiot, the Indian agent, and a company of soldiers in which Edward and Reason Hall, uncles of the captives, were serving as privates.

Col. Gratiot assured the Indians that the reward for the rescue of the girls would be paid. Also, he invited the Indians to be his guests at the fort, and that he would prepare a big feast for them. The Indians being very hungry the feast appealed very strongly to them. Finally, the chiefs agreed to place the girls in the custody of Col. Gratiot until the reward would be paid, the Indians retaining the right to the return of the captives if the government failed to pay.

The calico dresses which the girls had received from the Indians, had become torn by riding through brake, briars and brush, and with their soiled faces and disheveled hair, made them objects of pity.31 In a sense, the girls bearing their crosses, had followed their Master up Calvary to its summit, where He granted their prayer by setting them free.

CHAPTER XI.
ROYALLY WELCOMED.

Following close behind the soldiers that went out with Col. Gratiot to meet the Indians with the girls, were the ladies of the Fort, including the wives of the commanding officers, and although the Indians had delivered the girls into the custody of Col. Gratiot, the ladies immediately took charge of them, and after kissing and hugging them affectionately, conducted them to the Fort, where the girls were furnished with new clothes and the best meal that the place could produce. After dining the girls became sleepy and retired to rest, feeling perfectly secure.

A messenger who had been dispatched for Col. Dodge, met him on his way to the Mounds in company with Capt. Bion Gratiot, a brother of Col. Henry Gratiot. On his arrival Col. Dodge immediately assumed general command of the place. He invited the Indian chiefs, White Crow, Whirling Thunder and Spotted Arm, into the Fort, and fed them sumptuously. Ebenezer Brigham who lived at the east end of the Mounds contributed a big fat steer for the feast. After the feast, lodgings for the Indians were prepared, beds for the chiefs having been provided in one of the cottages. Having everything comfortably arranged, the Colonel retired and was soon fast asleep.

About an hour after Col. Dodge had gone to bed, Capt. Gratiot came rushing to his cabin in an excited manner, calling to him to rouse up and prepare for action immediately. He informed the Colonel that the Indian chiefs whom the Colonel had placed in the cottage, had gone out to some brush near by and apparently were inciting the Indians to make an attack upon the Fort. White Crow had come to the Captain and after telling him that the whites were a soft-shelled breed and no good to fight (referring to Stillman’s defeat), he closed by advising the Captain to tell his brother, Col. Gratiot, the Indians’ friend, to go home and not stay at the fort. Also, Capt. Gratiot had observed the men whetting their knives, tomahawks and spears, and it was learned that two of the warriors had been sent to the Winnebago camp early in the evening, probably to obtain more Indians to attack the Fort.

Col. Dodge, after listening attentively to the story of Capt. Gratiot, replied: “Do not be alarmed, sir; I will see that no harm befalls you.”

Col. Dodge then called the officer of the guard and an interpreter and with six other men went out to where the Indians were and took into custody White Crow and five of the other principal chiefs, and marched them into a cabin inside the palisade to secure obedience to his command. Then after directing the proper officer to place a strong guard around the cabin and double the guard around the whole encampment, the Colonel lay down with the Indians. To carry out the Colonel’s orders took all the men at the Fort, so that virtually the whole force was under arms during the night.32 Once more the girls’ lives were in jeopardy.

The night passed without another incident and when the sun arose over the great plains to the east, the girls were up and relished a good breakfast with their friends that awaited them. Col. Dodge was out before the girls and he told the Indians that they must all go to Morrison’s Grove, a place where the road to Galena branches off the Military Road to Prairie du Chien, about fifteen miles west of Blue Mounds. The Indians—White Crow particularly—protested against going, stating that their feet were sore from their long march in bringing the Hall girls to the Mounds, and that they had shown such great magnanimity in risking their lives to ransom the prisoners that they should receive their reward and be allowed to return home. Col. Dodge frankly told them that he believed that they were in sympathy with Black Hawk and that he should be obliged to treat them as suspects. In vain did White Crow use his eloquence in protesting his friendship for the whites, and after all was in readiness the Indians and soldiers accompanied by the Hall girls started on their march to Morrison’s Grove, where they arrived before noon. Here George Medary kept a hotel in a large house built by the Morrison brothers of hewn logs, adjoining a cultivated field, one of the first in the state.33

The ladies looked after the comfort of the girls, whom they welcomed with much exhibition of joy and affection, and Col. Dodge, after having the Indians well fed, ordered the chiefs to line them up until he could talk to them.

First Col. Dodge explained the alarming situation surrounding the white settlers, and the information that he had that the Winnebagoes were hesitating to join Black Hawk, and warned them of their destruction if they should take part in the war against the whites. Next Col. Gratiot spoke to the Indians in their own tongue, in a kindly manner, and after he had finished White Crow made the following speech: “Fathers, when you sent a request to me to go and to ransom those two white women, we called on all of our people who were around us and they gave all of their wampum, trinkets and corn, and we the chiefs gave ten horses. The Little Priest, I, and two others, went to the Sauks to buy the prisoners. We soon succeeded in buying one, but for a time could not succeed in buying the other. After we had bought one, we demanded the other. They said, ‘No, we will not give her up. We have lost too much blood. We will keep her.’

“We told them: ‘If you don’t give her up, we will raise the tomahawk and take her.’ I had a horse which you, father (Gratiot), gave me. It was the last horse that I had. I told them that I would give them that horse to obtain the prisoner. At sundown they gave me the girls and I gave them the horse. The Little Priest took one of the girls and I took the other and put them on horses. A Sauk came, as we were about to start, and attempted to cut off the hair of one of the girls. I caught his hand and prevented him, but allowed him afterwards to cut a small lock. These white sisters were very much affected and my young daughter cried to see these white sisters so distressed. Our women bought clothes from the Sauks and gave them. These sisters will tell you that we made them sleep together, and the daughter of the Little Priest slept on one side of them and my daughter on the other side. We were mortified that we could not use them better. Our blankets are worn out and we could do no better. I tried to please and comfort them, but they were not accustomed to our mode of living and could not eat.

“Here are our two sisters, we bring them here to take their hands and give them into your hands. We have saved their lives, for the Sauks intended to kill them.

“And now, fathers, all that we have to ask of you is that you will not put us or our children in the same situation that these white sisters were. We have brought them to you to prove to you that we are the friends of the Americans.”34

After listening to White Crow, Col. Dodge informed him that he would hold as hostages for the good conduct of the Winnebago Indians, their chiefs Spotted Arm, Whirling Thunder and Little Priest, to which the wiley chief made little objection, as he was trying to obtain as much goods as possible in final settlement of the reward, which was paid mostly in trinkets, blankets and horses.

Having been well fed and supplied with shawls and blankets of brilliant colors, childlike, the Indians were now anxious to go home.

White Crow, with a showing of much regret, bade good-bye to Sylvia and Rachel Hall. He went over the incidents of their rescue, and, to prove his friendship for the girls, offered to give each of them a Sac squaw as a servant for life. The girls thanked him, but said that they did not want any human being to be taken away from her people as they had been from theirs. The girls then bade adieu to all the Indians, towards whom their hearts had changed, and for whom they now felt considerable friendship. The eloquence of White Crow made an impression on the young women, as he spoke in a sympathetic tone unexpected kind words that touched their hearts.

After resting at Morrison’s during the afternoon and night, early the next morning the soldiers with their Indian hostages and the girls, proceeded along the Galena road to Fort Defiance, which was located five miles southeast of Mineral Point. Here again the girls were well cared for by the wives of the officers, and the most sumptuous meal that could be prepared was set before them, and their short stay made as pleasant as possible.35

After dinner, with the convoy of soldiers and the Indian hostages, the girls again moved on to Gratiot’s Grove, about a mile south of Shullsburg, and fourteen miles northeast of Galena. At this place there was a village of twenty families, with a hotel and a garrison of United States soldiers.36 The leading lady of the place was Capt. Gratiot’s wife, a French woman of excellent education, whose mother had been lady-in-waiting to Queen Marie Antoinette. Mrs. Gratiot, who was noted for her hospitality, took charge of the girls and entertained them lavishly at her home.37

Gratiot’s Grove, which became renowned as the most beautiful spot in the northwest, is described by Mrs. Gratiot as follows: “Never in my wanderings had I beheld a prettier place; the beautiful rolling hills extending to Blue Mounds, a distance of thirty miles, the magnificent grove, as yet untouched by the falling axe, formed the graceful frame for the lovely landscape.”38 Theodore Rudolph, a Swiss traveler who was at Gratiot’s Grove in the spring of 1832, describing the place says: “The vast prairie, as far as the eye could reach, was clothed with a carpet of richest green, interspersed with gorgeous wild flowers, of brilliant hues of red, blue, and yellow, in fact every color of the rainbow—reminding one of the garden of Eden, as our youthful fancies never failed to paint it for us.”39

CHAPTER XII.
HOMEWARD BOUND.

The thought of returning to their home filled the girls’ hearts with such joy as was possible under their circumstances. When they arose on the morning of their departure from Gratiot’s Grove, everything was inspiring. Never before had the birds sung more sweetly nor had the flowers looked more beautiful. The whole village was astir early, and probably there was not one of the inhabitants who failed to appear to bid the girls good-bye.

Capt. Gratiot’s wife made the girls some nice presents and had so endeared herself to them that although they had known her but a very short time, they left her with tears, and in tears.

Finally, all being ready, with a convoy of soldiers the girls continued their journey to White Oak Springs (10 miles northeast of Galena), near which they formerly lived and where they had many friends. It was then a mining village of considerable size, but not so charming as Gratiot’s Grove. There was a fort with soldiers at the place, and all was in readiness to receive the girls. As some of their relatives lived near the place, going there seemed to them like going home.

One of the first surprises that the girls had, was to meet their brother John who they thought had been murdered at Indian Creek. He had been mustered into the militia and was stationed at Galena, but was granted indefinite absence to go to meet his sisters and accompany them home.

At White Oak Springs they received a letter from their former pastor, Rev. R. Horn, who had a mission on the Illinois River where Robert Scott, an uncle of the girls, lived. The letter was full of kindness and invited the girls to come to the Horn residence and make it their home. From that time on, all arrangements were made to that end.

On the night of June sixteenth, great excitement was caused by a messenger riding into the town and announcing that the battle of the Peckatonica (18 miles northeast) had been fought, that all the Indians that participated in it had been killed, and that many of the whites had fallen. The shocking particulars, which were loathing to the girls, were told and retold. They had seen human blood spilled and they knew what such a sight meant, so it simply renewed their horror.

The girls remained at White Oak Springs two weeks, during which their lady friends made considerable clothing for them so that they had a well-supplied wardrobe, considering the time and the border country. The men were not backward in the good work and presents of goods were given by the store-keepers and a small purse raised to help to smooth their way.

Also, old acquaintances were renewed and new friendships were formed from which it was hard to break away when it came time to leave. From gruff old miners up to the army officer in his shoulder-straps, the village folk gathered around the young ladies to wish them God-speed.

The girls shook hands with everybody and thanked them, individually and collectively, for their great kindness. In the last written statement signed by Rachel Hall Munson and Sylvia Hall Horn, they say: “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 White Oak Springs the girls went on to Galena, where they stopped with an old acquaintance named Bell and were supplied with rations by the United States’ army officers who considered the girls their guests.

They had not been there many days before the steamboat “Winnebago” called for a load of lead to take to St. Louis. The girls with their brother John and their uncle Edward Hall took passage down the Mississippi to St. Louis where they arrived June 30, and were received by Gov. Clark who took them to his home and entertained them as his guests.40

Unfortunately, at that time the cholera was in the city and meetings of people, public demonstrations, and entertainments, were restricted. While the girls did not feel like attending entertainments or going in society, the people of St. Louis were anxious to entertain them.

A purse of $470.00 was collected, and, at the request of the girls, was put into the hands of Mr. Horn for investment. Other small sums of money were given to the girls to pay their incidental expenses, and articles for their comfort were presented to them.

The girls were anxious to go home, and in company with their brother John and Uncle Edward they boarded the steamer “Carolina” for Beardstown, Ill., from where they were taken to the home of their uncle Robert Scott, close to Mr. Horn’s. Here they remained until Fall, when they went to the home of their brother John who had recently married and settled on a homestead in Bureau County, about twenty miles west of the Davis Settlement.

CHAPTER XIII.
ROMANCE AND HISTORY.

At a little country store down in Indiana where the settlers usually gathered to read the weekly newspaper, William Munson, a young man who was born in New York, first heard of the Hall girls and their wonderful adventure. He was in the west seeking his fortune, and, being an admirer of the brave and full of youthful fire, he remarked to the people that he would some day marry one of those girls. His nearest friends did not take him seriously, and the matter as a passing joke was soon forgotten. However, with him it became a fixed idea, and in the spring of 1833 he went to Illinois and took up a land claim in the neighborhood where John W. Hall lived.

Every good woman is not satisfied until she has a home of her own. This natural longing was particularly strong in the minds of the Hall girls, whose home had been destroyed.

There is no record of how William Munson first met Rachel Hall, but our information shows that their courtship was short; for in March, 1833, they were united in marriage, and shortly afterwards they settled down on the land claim entered by her father, about a mile and a half east of the scene of the massacre. They were thrifty and got along splendidly, becoming one of the foremost families of La Salle County. Besides the rich abundance of worldly goods, they were blessed with a large family of whom four died in their infancy. As there was no cemetery, the little ones were buried in the garden. Of the other children who grew up to manhood and womanhood, several became very prominent and their generations became numerous. Their four daughters were married as follows: Irena, to Dr. George Vance, who moved to California; A. Miranda, to Samuel Dunavan, who settled on a farm just north of the Munson homestead, where she still lives; Fidelia, to George Shaver, and Phoebe M., to John F. Reed, of Ottawa. Mr. Reed’s daughter Fannie was married to James H. Eckles who was Comptroller of the Currency under Cleveland; and Mr. Reed’s daughter Winnie is married to Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, of Chicago. Mrs. Munson left three sons: William, Louis and Elliot, and through them several grand-children.

Edward Vance, a grand-son of Mrs. Munson, is a well-known lawyer in South Dakota, and Douglas Dunavan is a prominent lawyer at Ottawa, Illinois. We shall not attempt to give sketches of the various descendants of Mrs. Munson, as it would expand too much the limits of this volume.

The shock of the massacre and subsequent captivity impaired the splendid constitution of Mrs. Munson, who thereafter suffered from nervousness; but through the earlier part of her life, she manifested unusual vigor. As Mrs. Munson passed middle life she failed rapidly, and on May 1, 1870, she closed her earthly career and was laid to rest in the garden beside her infant children who had gone before her, and when Mr. Munson died he was interred beside his faithful wife. Their graves are about one and one-half miles east of Shabona Park, on the original Hall homestead.

Incidentally, we noted the fact that for a short spell the Hall girls made their home at the residence of Rev. Robert Horn. He had a young son, William S., who was studying for the ministry, and as both belonged to the same church (Methodist) and were born in Kentucky, we cannot say that the unexpected happened. He was one year younger than Sylvia. The love story of these young people would gratify any novel writer. When Sylvia left with her sister to make her home with her brother John, she and Mr. Horn looked upon each other with great affection. The marriage of Rachel emphasized the yearnings of Sylvia for her own home, and May 5, 1833, she was married to Mr. Horn and settled in Cass County, Illinois. There were born to Mr. and Mrs. Horn, eleven children. Mr. Horn’s vocation called him from one place to another. Having served in the ministry in Illinois, he first went to Missouri, thence to Peru, Nebraska, next to a parish near Lincoln, and finally settled down at Auburn, Nemaha County, Nebraska, where he died May 8, 1888, leaving him surviving, his widow, Mrs. Sylvia Hall Horn, and several children and grand-children.

Mr. Horn became an elder of the M. E. Episcopal church, and held several high church offices. Elder Horn was noted for his intense religious zeal, and, figuratively speaking, he died in the harness of exhaustion and old age. He was buried in Mt. Vernon Cemetery, Peru, Nebraska.

After the death of Elder Horn, Mrs. Sylvia Hall Horn made her home with her son, Thomas S. Horn, in Auburn, Nebraska, where she died January 11, 1899, aged 85 years, 10 months and 16 days. Mrs. Horn was buried beside her husband with whom she had happily lived for 55 years. She left surviving her a host of descendants.

In the fall of 1867, John W. Hall, Mrs. Munson, and her husband, made a visit to Elder Horn’s, Auburn, Nebraska, during which Mr. Hall and his sisters narrated the incidents of the massacre and captivity, which were reduced to writing by the Elder and published. The manuscripts are now in the custody of Mrs. Eckels of Chicago. In his statement Mr. Hall says: “After thirty-five years of toil have passed over my head since the memorable occasion, my memory is in some things rather dim.” Mrs. Munson and Mrs. Horn close their recital as follows: “Thus we have given the circumstances of our captivity and the rescue as nearly as we can recollect at this date, September 7, 1867.” The former published statements of the ladies substantially agree with this last one. All their statements and public interviews have been freely used and completely worked into this narrative.41

In 1833 the state of Illinois donated to Mrs. Munson and Mrs. Horn, 160 acres of land that the United States had given to the state towards the construction of the canal between Chicago and Ottawa. At that time the land was not valuable, and netted but a small sum to the ladies. Now that land is within the city of Joliet and is worth considerable money.

It has been asserted—and published in books, that Congress voted gifts of money to the girls; but in answer to an inquiry made at the United States Treasury, the author was informed that no such appropriation has ever been made, and Mrs. Dunavan says that she never knew of her mother’s receiving any money from the government.

In 1877 Mr. Munson erected a very handsome monument on the spot where his wife’s parents and the others who died with them were buried. It is a graceful shaft.

In 1905, through the efforts of friends of the persons who were massacred at Indian Creek on May 21st, 1832, the Illinois legislature appropriated the sum of five thousand dollars to place a monument at the grave where the victims were buried.42 On August 29, 1906, the new monument was dedicated with much ceremony, music and orations. Among the speakers were the venerable Hon. John W. Henderson and his brother, Gen. T. J. Henderson, who were boys at the time that the massacre occurred, the former being one of the persons who were planting corn south of the Davis cottage on that day, and who with John W. Hall escaped to Ottawa.

A full account of the dedication will be found in the newspapers and in the records of the Illinois Historical Society.43

CHAPTER XIV.
SHABONA44.

The story of the Hall girls’ adventures would not be properly finished without some further mention of Chief Shabona. Probably no other Indian in the West knew more white people, individually, than he knew; also, he was known at sight to more white people than was any other chief of his time. His name was so familiar among the whites, that its mere mention was a safe passport to any home of the settlers. Shabona was well aware of that fact and he always introduced himself as “Mr. Shabona.”

Baldwin says that Shabona was born in Canada; but Matson asserts that he was born on the Kankakee in Will County, Illinois; and the “Handbook of American Indians” gives Maumee River, Illinois, as his birthplace. This contention of many countries as the place of Shabona’s birth, proves the greatness of the man. Argos, Rhodes, Smyrna, Chios, Colophon, and several other cities, claim to be the birthplace of Homer; and Scotland, England, Wales, and Brittany, of St. Patrick. Authors agree that Shabona was born in 1775 and dwelt at Shabona’s Grove for fifty years. He was a grand-nephew of Pontiac and his father who was an Ottawa chief, fought under Pontiac. Shabona was six feet tall, erect, and weighed over two hundred pounds.

During the wars of 1812, 1827 and 1832, Shabona rendered great services to the white people by saving the lives of many of them who were taken captives by the Indians, and by protecting the home of John Kinzie and his friends during the Chicago massacre. However, with his tribe he joined in the border war against the whites and fought beside Tecumseh when he fell at the battle of the Thames. That was the last time that Shabona raised a hand against the white people.

When Col. Richard M. Johnson, who commanded the American army at the Thames became vice-president of the United States, Shabona made a visit to him at Washington. The vice-president gave Shabona a heavy gold ring, which he wore until his death and at his request it was buried with him.

On account of Shabona’s great services to the white people, the state of Illinois gave him two and one-half sections of land at the site of his Paw-Paw Village. In 1837 the last of Shabona’s tribe having been moved to a Kansas reservation, he followed them with his family consisting of twenty-seven persons, including his son Pypagee and nephew Pyps who were soon thereafter slain by the Sacs for the parts that they played in notifying the whites to flee to Ottawa, before the massacre at Indian Creek. Shabona was warned that the Sacs were scheming to assassinate him, because of his efforts to save the whites, and in 1855 he returned to Illinois.

Before Shabona left Illinois for Kansas, he placed his lands in the hands of an agent named Norton to collect the rents, pay the taxes and to look after them generally. Unconscionable settlers squatted on Shabona’s lands and filed in the government land office, affidavits that Shabona had abandoned the lands, and on that proof and some technicalities the lands were again sold as public lands, and on Shabona’s return he found his domain in the possession of the squatters who claimed to be the owners. Shabona could not help feeling that he had been cheated by the whites, after all he had done for them, and the old man sat on a log near where his village had formerly stood and wept bitterly.

Shortly after his return, as Shabona was cutting a few poles to erect a tent on the margin of the grove that bore his name, a settler attacked him and forcibly drove him off the land, and shamefully abused the old man. Then for some time homeless, he wandered about from place to place, the few remaining whites whom he had befriended, always giving him a warm welcome. The old warrior’s plight aroused the dormant gratitude of a few whites who raised a fund with which they bought for him at Seneca, on Mazon Creek, near the Illinois River, twenty acres of land which they cultivated and erected a dwelling-house thereon. Because of his natural desire to live out-doors, Shabona lived in a tent nearby and used the cottage for storage purposes. Through the efforts of his friends, the government granted him a pension of two hundred dollars a year, on which he subsisted until he died in 1859, at the age of eighty-four years, and was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, at Morris, Illinois.45

When Shabona was dying, he said: “I want no monument erected to my memory; my life has been mark enough for me.” However, his friends erected at his grave a granite boulder five feet long by three feet high, which bears only this simple inscription: “Shabona, 1775-1859.”46

The state of Illinois purchased a part of the Davis’ homestead, including the place of the massacre and mill-dam, and named it “Shabbona Park.”

CHAPTER XV.
CO-MEE AND TO-QUA-MEE.

Some of our readers may ask, Was anyone prosecuted for the massacre at Indian Creek? Oh, yes! Co-mee and To-qua-mee who had tried to buy Rachel and Sylvia Hall from their father, as related in Chapter III., were, in the spring of 1833, at Ottawa, Illinois, indicted by a grand jury, and a warrant issued and placed in the hands of Sheriff George E. Walker who had been an Indian trader and spoke the Pottawatomie language, to make the arrests. The Indians had gone to Iowa with Black Hawk and had become members of his tribe.

Alone, Sheriff Walker went to the Sac reservation and placed the Indians under arrest. The two Indians made no resistance, but unshackled accompanied the sheriff to Ottawa. They were allowed to go on a bond signed by themselves, Shabona, and several other Indians, upon their promises upon their honor to return for trial.

When the time for the trial arrived the Indians were on hand, although they had told their friends that they expected to be executed. Many of the friends of the people who had been massacred, armed and threatening to shoot the prisoners, if they should be liberated, attended the trial. There was no jail in Ottawa at the time, so the trial was held under a great tree on the bank of the Illinois. All through the trial the sheriff with a posse of armed men, guarded the Indians.

Mrs. Munson and Mrs. Horn, the principal witnesses, could not positively identify either of the Indians, and as the Indians had voluntarily stood their trial when they might have escaped, the jury acquitted them. When the trial was over the Indians’ friends gave them a banquet at Buffalo Rock (six miles down the Illinois), to which the sheriff and several other prominent men of the time were invited. A fat deer and choice game were parts of the menu, and a great red-white pow-wow was a part of the celebration.

It is said that subsequently when To-qua-mee and Co-mee were drinking with their friends, they admitted that they were present at the massacre, and that they took part in it only because they were angered at Davis for building the dam across Indian Creek. Also, they stated that it was through their influence that the lives of the Hall girls were spared, which was an express condition upon which they insisted before they would take part in the massacre. However, Black Hawk in his autobiography states that it was the Sac Indians who saved the lives of the girls; and White Crow in his speech at Morrison’s, said that the Sacs intended to kill the girls and that the Winnebagoes saved their lives.47