In the spring of 1849 Shabbona, with his family, went to visit his band in Kansas and remained there over two years. As soon as he was gone certain parties made affidavits that he had sold and abandoned his reservation and gone West to live. These papers were sent to the General Land Office at Washington, and the Commissioner decided that by abandoning his land Shabbona had forfeited his right to the reservation. When he returned in the fall of 1851 with his family, he was amazed to find the whites in possession of his village, cornfields and grove.
When he found himself deprived of all that he held dear, he broke down and cried like a child. Many days he gave himself up to sadness and refused to be comforted, and each night he went to a lonely place in the grove and prayed to the Great Spirit. To add insult to injury, the white ruffian who now had possession of the grove cursed the aged chief for cutting a few camp poles, and burning a few dry limbs for cooking, and ordered him to leave "his" grove, which had been Shabbona's home for fifty years. He was now old—past three score and ten—no longer capable of getting a living by hunting, as formerly, and with a number of small grandchildren depending on him for support. With a sad heart Shabbona looked for the last time upon the graves of departed loved ones, and then left the grove forever.
Shabbona never could understand why the Government should dispossess him of his reservation in his old age, just when he needed it most. Can you understand it, gentle reader?
The aged chief and his family now camped in a grove of timber on Big Rock Creek, where he remained some time undecided what to do. Here his white friends of other days came to see him and brought many presents.
It was during his stay at this place that the citizens of Ottawa, at the solicitation of ex-Sheriff George E. Walker, raised money to buy and improve a small tract of land on the south bank of the Illinois River, two miles above Seneca, in Grundy County. Here his friends built a comfortable frame dwelling, with fencing and other improvements, and presented it to Shabbona for a home. The house was pleasantly situated and commanded a splendid view of the river, but Shabbona preferred to live in a wigwam and the residence was used only as a storehouse.
The Government gave him an annuity of two hundred dollars, as a Black Hawk War veteran; this fund, supplemented by gifts from his friends, kept him above want.
While living at this place, Shabbona received a call from Williamson Durley, of Putnam County, who gave him a special invitation to visit at his house. Mr. Durley had been a merchant at Hennepin a number of years, and Shabbona often traded with him for goods for his band, paying for them in furs. Their business relations were pleasant and Shabbona regarded Mr. Durley as one of his best friends.
While on this visit Shabbona was accompanied by three daughters and his grandson, a lad of twelve years of age, named Smoke. At the suggestion of Mr. Durley the whole party dressed themselves in full Indian costume, with feathers, paint, rings, beads, etc., and mounted on horseback they visited Hennepin, where they attracted much attention. All the citizens turned out to honor them with a hearty reception.
At different times Shabbona was selected by the Pottawatomie tribe to represent their interest at the National Capital. On one of these visits to Washington, General Cass introduced him to the President, some of the members of Congress, heads of departments and others. A large crowd had collected in the rotunda of the capitol to see Shabbona, when General Cass introduced him to the audience, saying, "Shabbona is the greatest red man of the West; he has always been a friend to the whites and saved many of their lives during the Black Hawk War." At the conclusion of this speech people came forward to shake hands with the chief, and many of the ladies met him with a kiss.
On another of the trips to Washington, while Shabbona, with other chiefs, was standing on the east portico of the capitol engaged in conversation an elegantly dressed gentleman approached the group, and, looking earnestly at Shabbona, exclaimed, "Were you not in the battle of Frenchtown in 1813?" On receiving an affirmative answer, he continued, "Do you remember saving the life of a wounded lieutenant from Kentucky by the name of Shelby?" The chief remembered the incident, when the gentleman exclaimed, "Well, I am that same Lieutenant Shelby!" Mr. Shelby showed his gratitude by the presentation of several gifts.