Keokuk’s kind apology, followed by speeches from Col. William Davenport, then in command of Fort Armstrong, Wapello and Pash-e-pa-ho, lulled him back into a full realization of his helplessness, and again rising, he deliberately said:
“I feel that I am an old man. Once I could speak; now I have but little to say. To-day we met many of our brothers. We were glad to see them. I have listened to what my brothers have said; their hearts are good; they have been like Sacs since I left them; they have taken care of my wife and children, who had no wigwam. I thank them for it; the Great Spirit knows that I thank them.
“Before the sun gets behind the hills to-morrow I shall see them. When I left them, I expected soon to return. I told our great father in Washington that I would listen to the counsel of Keokuk. I shall soon be far away; I shall have no village, no band. I shall live alone. What I said in council to-day I wish forgotten. If it has been put upon paper, I wish a mark to be drawn over it. I did not mean it. Now, we are alone, let us say we will forget it. Say to our great father and Governor Cass that I will listen to them. Many years ago I met Governor Cass in council, far across the prairies, to the rising sun. His counsels were good, but my ears were closed. I listened to the great father across the waters. My father listened to him, whose band was very large. My band, too, was once large. Now I have no band. I and my son, and all the party, thank our great father for what he has done. He is old and I am old. We shall soon go to the Great Spirit, where we shall rest. He sent us through his great villages. We saw many of the white men, who treated us with kindness, and we thank them. We thank you and Mr. Sprague for coming with us. Your road was long and crooked. We never saw so many white men before. When you were with us we felt as though we had some friends among them. We felt safe, for you knew them all. When you come upon the Mississippi again you shall come to my wigwam. I have none now. On your road home you will pass where my village was. No one lives there now. All are gone. I give you my hand. We may never meet again, but I shall long remember you. The Great Spirit will be with you, and your wives and children. Before the sun rises I shall go to my family. My son will be here to see you before we go. I will shake hands with my brothers here, and then I am done.”
After Keokuk’s apology and Black Hawk’s same, Wapello arose (chief of the Foxes) and said:
“I am not in the habit of talking. I think–I have been thinking all day. Keokuk has spoken. Am glad to see my brothers. I will shake hands with them. I am done.”[[274]]
The chiefs all arose, a general shaking of hands, followed by an interchange of civilities, ensued, and the council adjourned. In the evening Major Garland invited the principal chiefs, together with Black Hawk, to his quarters, as it would afford a good opportunity to ascertain explicitly the feeling which existed among them toward their fallen foe. About 7 o’clock they arrived. They took their seats in silence, passed the pipe of peace and then drank a round of champagne. Pashepaho first shook hands with all present and said:
“We met this morning. I am glad to meet again. That wine is very good. I never drank any before. I have thought much of our meeting to-day. It was one that told us we were brothers–that we were Sacs. We had just returned from a buffalo hunt. We thought it was time for our brothers to be here, as our father at St. Louis told us this was the moon. We started before the rising sun to meet you. We have met and taken our brothers by the hand in friendship. They always mistrusted our counsels, and went from the trail of the red men, where there were no hunting grounds nor friends. They returned and found the dogs howling around their wigwams, and wives looking for their husbands and children. They said we counseled like women; but they have found our counsels were good. They have been through the country of our great father. They have been to the wigwams of the white men. They received them in kindness and made glad their hearts. We thank them. Say to them that Keokuk and Pashepaho thank them. Our brother has promised to listen to the counsels of Keokuk. What he said in council to-day was like the Mississippi fog. The sun has shone and the day is clear. Let us forget it. He did not mean it. His heart is good, but his ears have been open to bad counsels. He has taken our great father by the hand, whose words are good. He listened to them, and has closed his ears to the voice that comes across the great waters. He now knows that he ought to listen to Keokuk. He counseled with us and our young braves, who listened to his talk. We told our great father that all would be peace. He opened his dark prison, and let him see the sun once more and gave him to his wife and children, who were without a lodge. Our great father made straight his path to his home. I once took the great chief of the Osages prisoner. I heard the cries of his women and children. I took him out by the rising sun and put him upon the trail to his village. ‘There,’ said I, ‘is the trail to your village. Go and tell your people that I, Pashepaho, the chief of the Sacs, sent you.’ We thank our great father. Our hearts are good towards him. I will see him before I lay down in peace. May the Great Spirit be in his councils. What our brother said to-day let us forget. I am done.”
Keokuk, after going through the usual ceremonies, followed, saying:
“We feel proud that you have invited us here this evening to drink a glass with you. The wine which we have drank, we never tasted before. It is the wine which the white men make, who know how to make anything. I will take another glass, as I have much to say. We feel proud that we can drink such wine. To-day we shook hands with our brothers, who you brought to us. We were glad to see them. We have often thought of our brothers. Many of our nation said they would never return. Their wives and children often came to our wigwams, which made us feel sad. What Pashepaho has said is true. I talked to our young men, who had the hearts of men. I told them that the Great Spirit was in our councils. They promised to live in peace. Those who listened to bad counsels, and followed our brothers, have said their ears are closed. They will live in peace. I sent their words to our great father, whose ears were open, whose heart was made sad by the conduct of our brothers. He has sent them to their wigwams. We thank him. Say to him, Keokuk thanks him. Our brothers have seen the great villages of the white men. They traveled a long road and found the Americans like grass. I will tell our young men to listen to what they shall tell them. Many years ago I went through the villages of our great father. He had many. They were like the great prairies; but he has gone. Another is our father. He is a great war chief. I want to see him. I shall be proud to take him by the hand. I have heard much of him. His head is gray. I must see him. Tell him as soon as the snow is off the prairie, I shall come. What I have said I wish spoken to him, before it is put upon paper, so that he shall hear it as I have said it. Tell him that Keokuk spoke it. What our brother said in council to-day, let us forget. He told me to speak. I spoke his words. I have spoken.”
Early next morning Black Hawk went to his family and the Sacs hailed his return with great joy. Though shorn of power, no allusions were made to his new conditions; everywhere his old friends, who never before sympathized with him, now exercised every effort to make his declining years pleasant. He settled quietly down and for some time made his home near Keokuk’s village, on Iowa River.[[275]]