The death of Private Joseph Draper was particularly pathetic, and is narrated in the historical records of McLean County as follows:
“In the confusion resulting from Black Hawk’s attack, Draper lost his horse. A comrade, John Lundy, took Draper onto his horse. While retreating they found a stray horse which Draper insisted upon mounting. It had no saddle or bridle, but it was supposed it would follow the other horses; instead, it turned and ran toward the Indians, who shot Draper. He fell from the horse, crawled off into the underbrush, where his body was found by the burial party. He had written on his canteen an account of his wounds. No copy of the writing on his canteen has been preserved.”
It would scarcely seem credible that a man in full possession of his faculties would remain on a horse running toward the enemy instead of dropping off to seek the shelter of the bushes and secrete his sound body, especially in the light of the fact that he was able securely to hide himself when wounded, but so it must have been in that fearful panic, because his comrade, Lundy, has vouched for the first part of the story and the man’s canteen told the rest; and the words of a dying man cannot be doubted, particularly when alone in the night, miles away from friends and ministering care, with the raw and desolate prairie for a bed, howling wolves and Indians prowling near and the rough winds of spring about to blow his spirit into eternity.
After five miles’ pursuit, the Indians abandoned it to return to mutilate the bodies, as described by Mr. Hall, but the whites continued their flight, running, riding, yelling, crying, hopelessly crazed, until Dixon’s Ferry was reached in the early hours of the morning of the 15th. Others who became confused in the darkness, and deflected to the south, never stopped until the Illinois River had been reached at a point near the present city of Ottawa. From here they scattered (some forty) for their homes.
It was a clear case of panic. Men were crazed. They who in a sober moment would have walked straight to death without a protest; they who would bend to no command of a superior officer; they who would not obey or follow, were driven as easily as a flock of panic-stricken sheep. It has been said and written that whisky was the cause of this unfortunate rout, but this is hopelessly improbable in the face of the fact that but two casks were taken with the baggage train to be consumed by 275 men, who lived in a whisky drinking age, when five or ten drinks, more or less, made little difference in a daily average. Mr. John E. Bristol, of Eads’ company, who at ninety-one is alive and hearty to-day, vouches for the truth of this assertion and the other one that but two small casks were taken along. Mr. Hall specifically states that one cask was emptied by the Indians, and Black Hawk makes the same statement, therefore it is certain that whisky cut no figure in the panic.
ELISHA DIXON.
WILLIAM DIMMETT.