This was the first time Black Hawk in person had met signal defeat during the campaign, and he realized that more would follow, because a man who cared nothing for politics and feared not mortal man was after him.
Henry was exceedingly modest, retiring and submissive; so modest that when others were writing flaming press reports and conspiring to make way with his laurels, he attempted no intervention. Quiet, indeed, he was, yet resolute in duty to the last degree, and when an arrogant officer headed a mutinous document he was ordered in irons to the commanding General for punishment.
This inflexible regard for duty, even in the face of criticism and intrigue, moved him forward with the irresistible force of the glacier, and in this instance, with no contrivance, it pushed him forward at a bound to be the most popular man in the State of Illinois, and very soon the nominee of his party for Governor. Had he lived, nothing could have prevented his election. He died of pulmonary consumption, at New Orleans, March 4th, 1834, at his hotel lodgings.
Though a giant in stature and rugged to a degree, proof, as was thought, against the rigors of any campaign, this one undermined his health, and to find relief he sought the milder climate of New Orleans, but here he gradually sank, and in a little while passed away, so quietly that no one knew who he was until friends from Illinois proclaimed him. Then the honors due a soldier were his.
On the 22d Henry dispatched an express to Atkinson and Dodge wrote a letter to the commandant at Prairie du Chien,[[222]] dispatching it by the hand of Captain Estes of his command, which later found its way into the Missouri Republican and Niles Register. Following is a copy of the letter:
“Camp Wisconsin, July 22, 1832.
“We met the enemy yesterday, near the Wisconsin River, and opposite the old Sac village, after a close pursuit for nearly 100 miles. Our loss was one man killed and eight wounded; from the scalps taken by the Winnebagoes, as well as those taken by the whites, and the Indians carried from the field of battle, we must have killed forty of them. The number of wounded is not known; we can only judge from the number killed that many were wounded. From their crippled situation, I think we must overtake them unless they descend the Wisconsin by water. If you could place a field-piece immediately on the Wisconsin that would command the river, you might prevent their escape by water.
“General Atkinson will arrive at the Blue Mounds on the 24th, with the regulars and a brigade of mounted men. I will cross the Wisconsin to-morrow, and should the enemy retreat by land, he will probably attempt crossing some twenty miles above Prairie du Chien; in that event the mounted men would want some boats for the transportation of their arms, ammunition and provisions. If you could procure for us some Mackinaw boats, in that event, as well as some provision supplies, it would greatly facilitate our views. Excuse great haste. I am, with great respect, your obedient servant,
“H. Dodge, Col.-Com. Michigan Mounted Volunteers.”
This letter created much criticism by subsequent historians, notably Governor Ford in his History of Illinois. Answers, replies and rejoinders were exceedingly numerous for a while, but when time had passed and mellowed the controversy, Henry, the chief in command, and Dodge, the second in command at that battle, remained with the people of Illinois and Wisconsin first among their fighters and first among their favorites, and surely both deserved the best portions of the good things said of either. The letter may have been a little presumptuous, but it never marred the good feeling which existed between the two men.[[223]]