The most valuable possession you can own is an open heart. The most powerful weapon you can be is an instrument of peace.
- Carlos Santana
I have stood on the site where lies the body of a forgotten soldier. Forgotten, except that his daughter, Martha McMurty Piatt, recorded her recollections of her father and his actions in the Black Hawk Conflict in a diary, which has been preserved through time and now rests in the archives at the Knox College Library under the title, The Early Life of Martha McMurtry Piatt.
The grave is in the Timber-Deatherage-McMurtry Cemetery located near Rio Illinois. In the summertime, it is a lonely stretch of lawn, studded sparsely with an unmatched assortment of stones. In the wintertime, the thick blanket of snow lies unmarred by the footprints of loved ones. Few come to visit. None while snow lays thick on the ground. A few large trees have been left to grow, to shade the graves of those few who are buried here. In all, the site is home to less than forty graves, all of whom were early settlers in the area. A few, like John and Mary McMurtry, lived here with their five daughters when the Black Hawk Conflict broke out in the region.
The McMurtry family was visiting a neighbor, a Mr. Rowe, when a party of more than 20 Indians rode up, giving the settlers the impression that their lives were in mortal danger. Whether the party intended harm on the settlers or not is unknown, but there is little doubt that fighting and killing was imminently possible.
This was a moment of decision for McMurtry. War was anticipated. Death was facing his wife and daughters. Armed with nothing but a smile, he made a fateful decision, which is best described by his daughter.
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| John McMurtry Homestead Henderson Grove, IL |
"...Our mother was always very anxious when we had to go on an errand to a neighbor's house till we were safely home again, for there were the Indians to fear as well as the wild animals.
Black Hawk's war broke out the year after we came here, and I will now give you a little sketch of this war.
My first experience during the Black Hawk war was when twenty-eight warriors and two squaws came galloping up in single file, gaily painted - in war colors, to where we were at a friend's house. We of course were very much frightened when we saw them coming, for we expected war to break out at any time, and we were the only two families north of Henderson creek. Mr. Rowe, a neighbor, and my father, both said we would all be killed. Father said, "Let's us go out and shake hands with them and not act at all afraid."
Mr. Rowe instructed the women to not refuse them anything they might fancy, or we would all be killed.
There was a lumber wagon just across the road and I ran and crawled under this thinking I was hid, for I was badly frightened. The Indians dismounted, tied their ponies, and father and Mr. Rowe met them at the fence and shook hands with them. A few came into the house and looked around. They then remounted their ponies and crossed the river to see how the whites were situated there.
What could have been tragedy, and one more footnote in the histories of the Black Hawk Conflict, was instead a step towards coexistence. And yet – just as fast – another moment of truth. His own family safe, McMurtry learned that the Indians were next going to go visit the settlement across the river. This time, in fear for the loss of life of his neighbors, McMurtry once again swallowed his fear and made himself an ambassador of peace.
Father said he would have to go with the Indians, or the settlers would be frightened as the men were working at the fort. So he rode with them, holding onto the pony of the leader. I thought my father was very brave to do this.
While the Indians were hitching their ponies, my father ran in to reassure the women.
He then went on to the fort, telling the men to treat the Indians friendly. A Mr. Pennington commanded that every man get a club and kill them. Father insisted that every man shake hands with them, saying, "What can we do against this band of Indians armed with tomahawks and bowie knives?" The Indians rode around the fort, shook hands with the men then rode off toward Rock Island.
Next day came an order that all should go to the nearest settlement, called Gum Settlement, near where Galesburg now is. Here were several families crowded together in little log houses. Here we stayed three weeks, the men either scouting for Indians or working on the fort. The larger children were kept on top of the houses to watch for Indians. Once they came near but were scared away by some tin milk churns which the women had put out on a hay rack to sun. They thought they were big guns and would not face them. More men came from Sangamon and Schuyler counties and bands were formed to work alternately on the fort and range for Indians. Often the Indian alarms would come in and we, the women and children, would run to the thick woods where we would remain in hiding until midnight, when the men would return and call our mothers by name and they would answer. Thus, you can imagine some of the trials of those early days.
But the Indians were kept back till they never again came nearer to us than Shabbona Grove - five miles away where they killed and scalped a young man working in a field.
The next murder I remember was nearer Rock Island - a family by the name of Hall; only three escaped out of ten.
Old Shabbona, a friendly chief, came and warned them that the Indians were on their way and would be there in three hours' time. Old Shabbona was a friend to the whites. He directed them to go by a slough road, as the Indians were coming the other way. Two families were living together, the men being away, a young man about eighteen years old hitched up their only team, an ox team, and started with the families for the settlement. About half way they met the men returning. Hall insisted it was only old Shabbona's talk and made his family return. The others went on to the settlement.
Just as Hall's family were alighting from the wagon, in came the Indians, shouting and brandishing their war clubs. The women and children ran for the house. Just as one of the girls ran past the door she saw them tomahawk her mother with the baby in her arms.
One of the girls lay down behind a log beside the door. The other girl hid beside a brush heap. The young man leaped out of the wagon, ran to Rock River and hid under the bank.
The Indians captured the young girls and then looked for the boy. He said he could see their shadows in the water from where he was hiding. They finally gave up as they were afraid the whites might come.
The girls afterwards said the hardest thing they had to fear was to see the Indians dancing the war dance around the scalps of their father, mother, sisters and brothers.
The girls were tied every night and an old squaw slept between them. She treated then very kindly.
Old Shabbona went to Black Hawk to buy the girls' liberty, but while he was talking with the chief some of his men stole the girls and they were taken home, so old Black Hawk gained nothing.
The last battle of the war was on the south side of the Mississippi. There were not very many killed on either side, but the Indians were getting the worst of it. So they jumped into the river and many were shot in the water.
The old squaw who had guarded the girls was wounded and taken prisoner. She was tenderly cared for because of her kindness to them - but died in spite of their care.
My father was a scout in this war and my uncle, William McMurtry, a captain.
The fort was never finished, but they built a block house on the edge of my father's place. Here we stayed until near the close of the war, when we went home, as it was considered safe, the garrison being so near.
When the treaty of peace was signed there was great rejoicing, the men sleeping but little that night - playing many tricks on one another. Once I remember they placed a rope around William McMurtry's feet and drew him over a limb, letting his head hang down, and you could hear them laughing, they said, five miles.
All of the men gathered together to build a fort on my uncle's place, he being put in as captain of this little band of settlers gathered together to protect each other. At the beginning of this war, a Mr. Baldwin from Ohio gathered together a company of men, he being made their captain and came on to our assistance. They would go out in scouting parties through the days and come back at night until after the war was over.
I will now tell you something about the "block house."
In the early days of the war, our little band of men, being so few in number, soon deemed it better policy to give up building a fort and put all their time and strength on one house, so strong and safe that we could all get in it and be safe.
I cannot remember how many families there were of us gathered there. This house was made of logs so large that a bullet could not get through them. They were hewn off square and built in firmly so there would be no foothold for an Indian to climb. The upper story projected out three feet beyond the lower story with the port holes on a level with the eye and down through the floor of this upper story, where it projected, so if the Indians came up close to the house they could be shot.
There were no windows and only one door.
The soldiers would lie around the portholes, ready for action at any time. They stayed there in the block house to guard the settlers some time after we families returned to our homes. We were never troubled after this by the Indians. There would be bands of hunters come around occasionally and we were always afraid of them, but they never harmed any one..."
The diary notes, at the end, that John McMurtry served as a Scout in the Black Hawk War. No doubt, when the call came for a Militia to form, and news of the deaths of the Hall family so real, McMurtry felt it necessary to serve in the cause. But I stand by my decision to honor his efforts at maintaining peace. He convinced not only his neighbor Rowe to not fight and invite the Indians into his home, but also the men across the river building a fort, who had already been commanded to fight the Indians with whatever means were available to them. These two acts of bravery prevented the loss of many lives, and certainly were a subject of thoughtful discussion around the campfires of both Whites and Indians.
Rest in Peace, John McMurtry.
"There are many ways to fight for peace, and there are many kinds of peace to fight for. There are those who try to prevent a battle from starting. There are those who, in the midst of battle, will seek to find ways to end the hostility. There are those who, after the fighting has ended, will fight popular opinion to honestly chronicle the events, giving all sides their say and perspective."
T. Jansen
(Key Terms: Ma-Ka-Tai-Me-She-Kia-Kiak, Black Sparrow Hawk, Black Hawk, 1767, Saukenuk, Pyesa, Rock Island, Black Hawk’s Watch Tower, Black Hawk State Historic Site, Hauberg Museum, Sauk, Sac, Meskwaki, Fox, Rock River, Sinnissippi River, Mississippi River, War of 1812, British Band, Great Britain, Treaty of 1804, Treaties, Ceded Land, William Henry Harrison, Quashquame, Keokuk, Fort Armstrong, Samuel Whiteside, Black Hawk War of 1832, Black Hawk Conflict, Scalp, Great Sauk Trail, Black Hawk Trail, Prophetstown, Wabokieshiek, White Cloud, The Winnebago Prophet, Ne-o-po-pe, Dixon’s Ferry, Isaiah Stillman, The Battle of Stillman’s Run, Old Man’s Creek, Sycamore Creek, Abraham Lincoln, Chief Shabbona, Felix St. Vrain, Lake Koshkonong, Fort Koshkonong, Fort Atkinson, Henry Atkinson, Andrew Jackson, Lewis Cass, Winfield Scott, Chief Black Wolf, Henry Dodge, James Henry, White Crow, Rock River Rapids, The Four Lakes, Battle of Wisconsin Heights, Benjamin Franklin Smith, Wisconsin River, Kickapoo River, Soldier’s Grove, Steamboat Warrior, Steamship Warrior, Fort Crawford, Battle of Bad Axe, Bad Axe Massacre, Joseph M. Street, Antoine LeClaire, Native American, Indian, Michigan Territory, Indiana Territory, Louisiana Territory, Osage, Souix, Potawatomi, Ojibwe, Ottawa, Ho-Chunk)
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