The Chippewas, the Winnebagos, and the Pottawatamies, made claim to the same territory. Even the Foxes and Sacs claimed that the young chiefs who signed the treaty, were made drunk, and while in that condition agreed to the treaty.[4] Also, the Indians maintained that the United States would not allow them to hunt upon the “wild” lands, notwithstanding Art. 7 of the treaty and that the title thereto was still in the government. Therefore, the Indians refused to ratify the treaty, and the idea that they were grievously wronged became a fixed notion in the minds of the old chiefs, which led to the Red Bird War of 1827, and the still greater Black Hawk War in 1832.[5]
[4] Black Hawk’s Autobiography, Le Claire, Ch. 3. 12 “The Republic”, Irelan, 68.
[5] 3 Smith’s “History of Wisconsin” (1854), 115 et seq.; “Waubun,” Kinzie, 381.
BLACK HAWK AS A WARRIOR.
Black Hawk had fought with the English in the War of 1812, and by reason of the defeat of the English, including his own, he retained his natural desire for revenge against the Americans. He was born at Rock Island, and had as strong love for his native place as was ever retained by any white man. When Illinois became a state in 1818, Black Hawk with all his people was ordered to move across the Mississippi into Iowa, which he reluctantly obeyed. However, he was never satisfied with his new location, and in 1832 he again crossed the Mississippi with four hundred warriors and all their squaws and children and squatted on his former possessions at Rock Island. He was ordered back to Iowa, but refused to go until he learned that troops were being sent against him. With all his people he retired north along Rock River, followed by the Illinois militia, and when he reached a point about twenty-five miles south of Rockford, he halted and held a council of war with chiefs of the Pottawatomies and Winnebagoes, where he delivered the following speech:
“I was born at the Sac Village, and here I spent my childhood, youth and manhood. I liked to look on this place with its surroundings of big rivers, shady groves and green prairies. Here are the graves of my father and some of my children. Here I expected to live and die and lay my bones beside those near and dear to me; but now in my old age I have been driven from my home, and dare not look again upon this loved spot.”
The old chief choked with grief and tears flowed down his cheeks. Covering his face in his blanket, he remained silent for a few moments. Then wiping away his tears, he continued:
“Before many moons you, too, will be compelled to leave your homes. The haunts of your youth, your villages, your corn fields, and your hunting grounds, will be in the possession of the whites, and by them the graves of your fathers will be plowed up, while your people will be retreating towards the setting sun to find new homes beyond the Father of Waters. We have been as brothers; we fought side by side in the British war; we hunted together and slept under the same blanket; we have met at councils and at religious feasts; our people are alike and our interests are the same.”[6]
[6] Memories of Shaubena, 98.