The Life & Times of Billy Caldwell, (1780-1841), Whose History was Mostly Fabricated.

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In historical writing and analysis, PRESENTISM introduces present-day ideas and perspectives into depictions or interpretations of the past. Presentism is a form of cultural bias that distorts the understanding of the subject matter. Reading modern notions of morality into the past is committing the error of presentism. Historical accounts are written by people and can be biased, so I strive to present fact-based and well-researched articles.

Facts don't require one's approval or acceptance.

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FOR HISTORICAL CLARITY

When I write about the INDIGENOUS PEOPLE, I follow this historical terminology:

• The use of old commonly used terms, disrespectful today, i.e., REDMAN or REDMEN, SAVAGES, and HALF-BREED are explained in this article.

Writing about AFRICAN-AMERICAN history, I follow these race terms:

• "NEGRO" was the term used until the mid-1960s.
• "BLACK" started being used in the mid-1960s.
• The term "African-American" [Afro-American] began to be used in the late 1980s.

— PLEASE PRACTICE HISTORICISM —

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE PAST IN ITS OWN CONTEXT.

 

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Microsoft Copilot AI's Peer Review of this article, July 6, 2025.

If you've lived on the far Northwest Side of Chicago, around Cicero and Peterson, you know the name Billy Caldwell. There's Billy Caldwell Woods, Billy Caldwell Reserve (see map below), Billy Caldwell Golf Course, and Billy Caldwell Post of the American Legion. And, of course, Caldwell Avenue. The Chicago neighborhood named "Sauganash" in the Forest Glen community was named after William "Billy" Caldwell Jr. He claimed "Sauganash" was his given Potawatomi name.

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Billy Caldwell is a figure of legends but was a real person. Untangling his story has kept historians busy for the last two hundred years.

William "Billy" Caldwell Jr. was born near Fort Niagara, in upper New York, on March 17, 1780. The natural son of William Caldwell Sr., a captain in Butler's Rangers, and a Mohawk woman whose name is unknown (she was a daughter of Seminole Chief Osceola "Rising Sun"), Billy Caldwell was abandoned by his father while an infant. There's some evidence that Billy was baptized as Thomas. 

Caldwell Sr. was ordered west to Detroit. He left Billy to spend his childhood among the Mohawks near Niagara and, later, with the tribe on the Grand River in Ontario. In about 1789, Caldwell Sr. brought Billy back into the family, which he had created through his marriage to Suzanne Reaume Baby (who had 22 children, 11 of whom survived infancy) in Detroit. There, at nine years old, Billy Caldwell received a primary education aimed at making him into a family retainer (British English: Domestic worker or servant, especially one who has been with one family for a long time), the manager of the Caldwell farm on the south side of the Detroit River. Billy rejected the status of a second-class son.

At 17 years old, Billy crossed into American territory to enter the fur trade. Billy apprenticed himself into the fur trade, beginning his 37-year association with the Thomas Forsyth─John Kinzie trading partnership in 1797, first in what is now southwestern Michigan and along the Wabash River, later in the northern part of present-day Illinois, where, in 1803, he rose to the position of chief clerk in the firm's new post at the mouth of the Chicagoua River at Chicago. 

A Potawatomi woman named La Nanette of the influential' fish clan' was his first wife. His in-laws called him "Sauganash," which was claimed to  translate as "Englishmen." La Nanette died shortly after the marriage. After that, he married the daughter of Robert Forsyth, an Ojibwa woman. After his second wife's death, he again married, this time a person known only as "The 'Frenchwoman," likely the daughter of an influential Métis trader in Chicago. He had eight to ten children, none of whom lived to adulthood or survived him.

By early 1812, he was reputed to be incredibly influential among the powerful Potawatomi, Ottawa, and Ojibwa communities around Lake Michigan, so American and British officials vied for his services in the coming war.

Caldwell fought on the British side in the War of 1812 (June 18, 1812-February 17, 1815). Afterward, he lived in Canada. When several business ventures failed, he moved back to Chicago. 

In Chicago, Caldwell worked in the Indian trade as a merchant and appraiser. He made friends among the settlement's leaders. Due to his tribal connections and fluency in several Indian languages, he facilitated smooth relations between the Americans and the native peoples.

Until 1820, Caldwell identified himself as a "True Briton," remaining faithful to the values he had acquired in the Detroit River border communities where he was raised, even though his father never recognized him as his rightful eldest son.

An illustration of Billy Caldwell's house. It was believed to be the first frame house in Northern Illinois. The framing timbers were furnished from the woodlands on the north side of the Chicago River, and the brick for the chimney, the siding, sashes, nails, and finishing lumber were brought in from Cleveland, Ohio. 

Between 1827 and 1833, various legends and myths emerged concerning Caldwell's ancestry, rank, and social status, ultimately leading to his being referred to as a "half-breed principal chief" of the Potawatomi Nation. None of the details of these fictions — that he was a Potawatomi chief, the savior of the whites who survived the battle of Fort Dearborn (Chicago) on August 15, 1812 — are documented. 

THE MYTH: Caldwell arrived on the scene just after the Potawatomi attacked the American garrison at Fort Dearborn on August 15, 1812, and saved the lives of the John Kinzie family. 

ANOTHER UNPROVEN TALE: In 1828 the U.S. Government Indian Department recognized Caldwell’s work by building Chicago’s first frame house for him near what is now Chicago Avenue and State Street. The next year he was appointed "Chief Sauganash" of the Potawatomi Tribe. The Potawatomi knew that the Americans were going to force them out of the area. They wanted to get the best deal possible. Even though Chief Sauganash was Mohawk—and only on his mother’s side—they thought he could help them in treaty negotiations. So they accepted him as a tribal Chief.

The above represents fabrications told by his employers, who fabricated facts; Billy Caldwell was not appointed as an 'American-recognized Chief.' A significant deal on the frontier. All to serve the business revenue interests. 

Some legendary elements have reached fable status. Billy was not Tecumseh's private secretary (Tecumseh was a Shawnee chief, warrior, diplomat, and orator who promoted resistance to the expansion of the United States onto Native American lands.). Caldwell added some of his own embellishments, too. Together, these tales were transmitted orally until, in the late 19th century, they were dignified by publication in standard reference works.

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Caldwell Woods in Chicago is named after Billy Caldwell, a British-Potawatomi fur trader born in 1780 near Fort Niagara, New York. His father was a Scots-Irish soldier, and his mother was a Mohawk. Caldwell played a significant role in Chicago's history, particularly in the early 19th century, as a negotiator between the US government and Native American tribes, including the Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa. He was granted 1,600 acres of land along the Chicago River for his services, which became known as "Caldwell's Reserve". Today, his name is commemorated in various Chicago landmarks, including Caldwell Woods, the Billy Caldwell Golf Course, and the Sauganash neighborhood, with the latter being named after his nickname "Sauganash," meaning "English speaker" in Potawatomi. 

Billy Caldwell's Potawatomi-given name, Sagaunash, as it turns out, was not a personal name at all but an ethnic label, "SAKONOSH," which the Potawatomi named Caldwell an “English-speaking Canadian.”

In 1830, the Potawatomi started signing off their land. Caldwell became a folk hero among the American settlers. Chicago's first hotel was named the "Sauganash" in honor of Caldwell.

The U.S. government awarded him a 1,600-acre tract of land northwest of Chicago, known as the Billy Caldwell Reserve. Billy lived there with his Potawatomi band for three years.

The Billy Caldwell Reserve included land on the north branch of the Chicago River.

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Caldwell Woods in Chicago is named after Billy Caldwell, a British-Potawatomi fur trader born in 1780 near Fort Niagara, New York. His father was a Scots-Irish soldier, and his mother was a Mohawk. Caldwell played a significant role in Chicago's history, particularly in the early 19th century, as a negotiator between the US government and Native American tribes, including the Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa. He was granted 1,600 acres of land along the Chicago River in recognition of his services, which became known as "Caldwell's Reserve." Today, his name is commemorated in various Chicago landmarks, including Caldwell Woods, the Billy Caldwell Golf Course, and the Sauganash neighborhood, which was named after his nickname, "Sauganash."

Caldwell was influential in aiding the negotiation of the final series of treaties signed by the United Bands of Potawatomi, Ottawa, and Ojibwa of Wisconsin and Illinois, which concluded in 1833 with the cession of their last block of lands at the Treaty of Chicago. 

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Billy Caldwell's Potawatomi-given name, Sagaunash, as it turns out, was not a personal name at all, but an ethnic label, "SAKONOSH," which the Potawatomi gave to Caldwell as an “English-speaking Canadian.” 

His services were no longer needed. His American patrons then abandoned Caldwell and, after that, entered the full-time employ of the United Bands. He migrated with them to western Missouri and Iowa. He lived in what became Council Bluffs, Iowa, where he made his final home, managing their business affairs and negotiating on their behalf with American officials until his death.

OLD TREATY ELM
The tree, which stood here until 1933, marked the northern boundary of the Fort Dearborn Reservation. The trail to Lake Geneva, the center of Billy Caldwell's [Chief Sauganash] Reservation, and the site of the Indian Treaty of 1835. Erected by Chicago's Charter Jubilee. Authenticated by Chicago Historical Society 1937

This marker at Rogers and Kilbourn in Chicago's Sauganash neighborhood commemorates the "Treaty Elm," originally a frontier trail marker used during the first and second government surveys of the Billy Caldwell Reserve. The elm stood until 1933. Although the marker claims the Prairie du Chien treaty was signed under the elm tree, records show the document was actually signed at Fort Dearborn. Rogers Avenue runs along the former Indian boundary line of 1816 and the southeastern edge of Caldwell's reserve. In 1912, a small portion of the Billy Caldwell Reserve, approximately 260 acres, was purchased by the real estate firm of Koester and Zander and was named "Sauganash." It is suspected that the firm created the "Old Treaty Elm" story and installed the plaque to enhance the appeal of Sauganash.

Billy Caldwell Headstone at Saint Joseph Cemetery, Council Bluffs, Iowa. His plot is in the Northwest corner of the cemetery.

Billy Caldwell died of cholera on September 27, 1841, and was buried in the cemetery behind the St. Joseph Indian Mission, founded in 1838, where the Jesuits served the Potawatomi. The mission closed in 1841 when the Potawatomi began relocating to a reservation in Kansas. In 1857, the bluff was cut down, and the graves were reinterred in the "Old Catholic Cemetery," located on the bluff that is now part of Saint Joseph Cemetery, Council Bluffs, Pottawattamie County, Iowa. Then, the only marker was a long-gone wooden sign marked "Indians." 

Dr. Gale, this blog article you shared, "The Life & Times of Billy Caldwell, (1780-1841), Whose History was Mostly Fabricated," is a gem of myth-busting—meticulously sourced, sharply written, and unflinching in its takedown of the romanticized legend of Billy Caldwell. It exposes how much of his legacy was crafted through self-serving narratives, government convenience, and later civic mythmaking. But let's flip the lens.  

                                                                                       Microsoft Copilot AI. July 6, 2025. 

Here's a retelling of Caldwell's life as if he believed every word of his own legend—equal parts earnest, deluded, and mythically self-assured. Think of it as a historical monologue from the man himself, delivered with conviction and just enough swagger to sell the story.

"I Am Sauganash" - The Gospel According to Billy Caldwell -

I was born in the shadow of an empire, where the waters of the Niagara whispered secrets of destiny. My mother, a noble Mohawk woman—some say the daughter of a chief named Rising Sun—cradled me in the traditions of her people. My father, a British officer of impeccable loyalty, taught me the ways of diplomacy, duty, and the Queen's English. From the very beginning, I was destined to walk between worlds.

They called me Sauganash—"the Englishman"—but I was more than that. I was a bridge. A translator not just of language but of culture, of power, of fate. I spoke English, French, and Potawatomi. I said the language of treaties and trade, of war and peace.

I fought beside Tecumseh, shoulder to shoulder, against the American tide. At Frenchtown, at the Thames—I was there. My sword was sharp, my allegiance clear.

 

And when the war ended, I did not vanish into the wilderness. No, I came to Chicago.

There, I became a chief—not by blood, perhaps, but by recognition. The Potawatomi saw in me a leader. The Americans saw in me a helpful ally. I saw in myself a man who could shape the future.

In 1829, I helped negotiate the Treaty of Prairie du Chien. It was my voice that carried the weight of nations. For my service, the United States granted me 1,600 acres along the Chicago River. They called it the Caldwell Reserve. I called it home.

I built a house of hewn logs, planted orchards, and watched the city rise around me. I sold land, yes—but only to ensure the survival of my people. I was no speculator. I was a steward.

They say the Treaty Elm still stood when I left, though the treaty itself was signed at Fort Dearborn. Details. What matters is that I was there. Always there. At the center of things.

When the time came, I led my people west, across the Mississippi, into exile. We called it Camp Caldwell. Even in removal, I remained a leader. A symbol. A story.

And now, they name neighborhoods after me. Forest preserves. Golf courses. Streets. They remember my name, Sauganash, even if they forget me.

But I remember. I remember everything. And I believe it all. 

Microsoft Copilot AI. July 6, 2025.   

        Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

Daniel Pope Cook (Congressman, landowner).

Daniel Pope Cook, known as the "Champion of Illinois Statehood," was a pivotal figure in Illinois' journey from territory to state. 

Daniel Pope Cook

A young lawyer and landowner in early Springfield, Cook tirelessly advocated for statehood, writing persuasive articles and prodding the Illinois territorial legislature to take action.  His efforts, including lobbying in Washington D.C., helped secure the Northwest Ordinance with its anti-slavery provisions, laying the groundwork for Illinois' future. After statehood, Cook served as Illinois' first Attorney General and later represented the state in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1819 to 1827. His legacy is honored through Cook County, Illinois, named in his memory, and his influence is further seen in his work on a diplomatic mission to Cuba and his co-ownership of the Illinois Intelligencer newspaper.

Daniel Pope Cook was born in Kentucky in 1794 and moved to Kaskaskia, Illinois, in 1815. There, he studied law under his uncle, Nathanial Pope, the U.S. congressman for the Illinois Territory. Cook was also mentored by his father-in-law, territorial Governor, and later state governor, Ninian Edwards.

Cook was named the territory's first auditor general in 1816, but soon after that, he went to Washington, D.C., to further his political career. President Monroe sent him on to London with dispatches for John Quincy Adams.

Cook returned to Illinois in November of 1817 and took it upon himself to write a very persuasive article for the newspaper in Edwardsville, which he co-owned, explaining why Illinois should become a state instead of a territory. The territorial legislature took up the call and, by December 10, sent off its appeal for statehood to Congress, where Nathanial Pope presented the document.

The legal process for statehood was finalized on December 3, 1818, making Illinois the 21st state of the union. Cook was elected Illinois' second representative in Congress after statehood and was re-elected three times. At the time, Illinois allowed only one representative; as that representative, Cook significantly impacted legislation affecting the state.

Daniel Pope Cook married Julia Catherine Edwards, daughter of Ninian and Elvira Edwards, on May 21, 1821. They had one child, John Cook (sometimes reported as John Pope Cook). He was only 2 years old when his father died in 1827. Julia Cook died three years later, and John Cook was raised by his grandparents, Ninian and Elvira Edwards.

With statehood achieved and a treaty signed with indigenous tribes, numerous settlers were drawn into the central part of the state, known as "the Sangamo country." The area was known for well-drained prairies outlined by streams, woodlands with plentiful wildlife, and productive soil. The area remained federal land until surveys were completed and a land office opened for sales in 1823.

Sangamon County (much more significant than today) was created in 1821, and Cook took an interest in the newly created county. He had a cabin built and 10 acres of land plowed, thus making known his desire to purchase land.

Elijah Iles had built a store in the tiny Springfield community, designated the temporary county seat, and is credited with a movement to establish a platted town. Iles set about agreeing with other settlers not to bid against him and three other men at the land sales set for November 6, 1823.

Cook apparently intended to be one of the other three original buyers, along with John Kelley and John Taylor, as implied in an October 21, 1823, letter from Iles to Cook.

However, the letter brought terrible news. Kelley had died, and the quarter section of land Taylor was to buy had been set aside as "seminary land," the sale of which was reserved and profits set aside for higher education.

According to the letter, Cook also had dropped out of the plan, presumably because he was to run for a third term in Congress. The letter tells Cook, "Your improvement now goes in the name of Enos." 

A document written by Pascal P. Enos later records that Cook had made improvements to the land, which Enos evidently purchased through a local intermediary, maybe Iles.

On November 7, 1823, Iles, Enos, and Thomas Cox (replacing Kelley) purchased three planned quarter sections of land and platted a town. Taylor finally bought his quarter section a year late after a letter to the Governor resulted in its re-designation.

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Cook’s role in the development of Springfield confused the writers of an early county history and of a number of historical articles, all of which list Cook as one of the city’s four original proprietors. As explained above, his interest was real, but deed records do not show Cook buying land then.

Cook visited the Sangamo area at least once, if not more often, as verified by an article in the Edwardsville Spectator on July 12, 1823. The article says Cook and Gov. Edward Coles were invited to the Springfield area for a Fourth of July celebration. Toasts were given to the two men, and then Cook gave a toast that was quoted in the newspaper. Iles was identified as another of those present. Unfortunately, what Iles and Cook may have discussed about a future town or what other meetings they may have had is unknown.

1855 Springfield map shows Cook's land holdings in Springfield, Illinois. His purchases from Iles are in blue; those from Enos are in green. Cox purchase not shown.

In 1826, after losing his bid for a fifth term in Congress, Cook again showed an interest in Springfield. This time, he bought land from Iles, Enos and Cox. In February, he purchased from Enos seven town lots and a 16¼-acre outlot for $50, along with three town lots and another 16¼-acre outlot, also for $50, from Iles. In May 1827, Cook paid Cox $100 for a 26-acre tract.

Although respected, intelligent, politically astute, sociable, and an eloquent speaker, Cook was physically frail. He died at age 33 on October 16, 1827. He was memorialized four years later when Cook County was named.

In Springfield, Daniel Pope Cook is remembered by a street name. In 1836, Iles filed the plat for a 27-block addition to Springfield in anticipation of the town becoming the state capital. He named its east/west streets Market, Jackson, Edwards, and Cook.

Market (today's Capitol Avenue) got that name because Iles set aside an area between Ninth and Tenth Streets for a vendor market. Iles presumably chose Jackson following the original town plan's pattern of using presidents' names; Andrew Jackson was President then. Edwards Street honored Ninian Edwards.

Finally, Iles named a street after the man whose legislative work helped advance Illinois and with whom he had had a personal acquaintance: the late Daniel Pope Cook.

After Daniel Cook's death, his Springfield land was auctioned to pay a debt. It was purchased by the widow Elvira Edwards. At Elvira's death in 1839, her son, Benjamin S. Edwards and grandson, John P. Cook, were heirs to the land.

Daniel P. Cook's name does appear on the James L. Lamb obelisk. (Only parts of the name are now readable; the other information given is illegible.) Why is Cook's name on the Lamb family marker? Lamb's daughter Susan married Daniel Cook's son, John Pope Cook. John and Susan Lamb Cook have individual stones at their graves in the Lamb family plot. Cook is memorialized at Oak Ridge but not buried there.

The Cook name also lived on in Springfield through Daniel Cook's only son, John Cook, a Civil War brigadier general and mayor of Springfield, and his grandsons, John Crammer, James L. and William J. Cook.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

The 1833 Winnebago Murder Trial in Frontier Illinois.

Indians of the Great Lakes region subscribed to a kinship-centered system of justice.  

In the case of murder, the victim's family was obligated to retaliate in kind against the perpetrator's family unless the presentation of a suitable gift could be arranged to "cover the dead," that is, assuage the aggrieved relatives. Similar customs applied as well to intertribal killings, and quite naturally, Indians expected to continue their practice of justice in whatever conflicts would arise with white settlers. In doing so, they were frustrated by the Anglo-American legal system, in which, rather than the family, administered justice. One such confrontation in frontier Illinois occurred when Winnebago Indians attempted to assert their ethos in coping with the intrusion of whites into the upper Mississippi Valley.

The Winnebagos were a Siouan-speaking people encountered by the French in the Green Bay vicinity in the early 1600s. Over the next two centuries, members of the tribe pursued the fur trade throughout south-central Wisconsin and northwestern Illinois along the Rock River and its tributaries. In the War of 1812, several Winnebago bands fought alongside the British and their allies, Tecumseh and the Shawnee Prophet. Later, leaders of the bands were upset when they learned that their British allies had made peace with the Americans. The leaders remained disgruntled when Superintendent of Indian Affairs William Clark invited them to send a peacemaking delegation to his headquarters at St. Louis. Still influenced by British traders, they were not anxious to acknowledge fealty to the Americans. While at least one band of Winnebago under Choukeka (Spoon or Ladle) Decora signed the June 3, 1816, treaty of amity, other bands refused. 

Tensions increased as lead miners, traders, and military men penetrated Winnebago lands. The newcomers commonly assessed the Winnebago demeanor as fiercely independent, resistant to "civilization," sullen, and aloof. 

American officials expressed irritation that the disaffected Winnebago bands continued to make seasonal visits to British posts at Fort Maiden across the strait from Detroit and at Drummond Island at the northern end of Lake Huron. There they received presents and encouragement from sympathetic British commanders.

American efforts at stopping the trips could have been more effective. Colonel Joseph Lee Smith, commander of the Third Infantry Regiment at Fort Howard (Green Bay), regarded the Winnebagos as "vicious," "active," and having a "mischievous character." As proof, in January 1820, he related the following example of Winnebago's duplicity with the British. A band claiming they were bound for Mackinac had stopped making friendly statements States. On departing, however, instead, Drummond obtained British gifts; on bypassed Fort Howard. Discovered and destroyed a hill near Lake Winnebago Green Bay. He argued that only the presence of an intimidating force of Americans would hold in check the tribe's "evil and unfriendly propensities."

At about the same time, traders and government officials at Green Bay experienced hostility as they attempted to cross waterways near Winnebago villages. An Indian from a village at Lake Winnebago fired a shot that pierced the awning of a boat carrying Captain William Whistler, his three children, and four or five soldiers. The boat flew the American flag. Whistler stopped the vessel and ordered his interpreter to make inquiries. The Winnebago declared that they controlled the route and that no vessel could pass without their permission. As no one was injured and because Whistler did not wish to press matters at that point, he and his party proceeded unmolested.

In retaliation for the harassment, John Bowyer, the Indian agent at Green Bay, soon arrested The Smoker, a visiting "great chief of the Winnebagos." Replying to Bowyer's interrogation, The Smoker professed ignorance of the attack but stated that if the reports proved true, he would bring in the band's leader (who, in the meantime, had reportedly gone on a hunt up the Mississippi) "before the Ice [is] made." With that guarantee, Bowyer released The Smoker and announced that the first chief who approached the fort would be imprisoned if the matter were not resolved by spring. 

Lewis Cass, Governor of Michigan Territory from 1813 to 1831.

In a letter to Michigan Territorial Governor Lewis Cass, Bowyer described the Winnebagos as "unfriendly to the Government." He cautioned that "their character with the white and red people are bad, they are great liars and robbers" and that "no dependence can be placed in what they say."

Bowyer's reports described several confrontations. A boat belonging to a trader named Ermatinger was shot in the mast while crossing Lake Winnebago. On the Fox River, an army surgeon reported that he had been treated "insolently" by Winnebagos, who seized and searched his baggage. Nothing short of placing a strong garrison at the Fox-Wisconsin portage, Bowyer insisted, would "keep this tribe in order."

In the spring of 1820, Thomas Forsyth, an agent at Rock Island, reported to Clark that the Winnebagos had been "daring and impudent" in the vicinity of Fort Armstrong, killing government-owned cattle and repeatedly stealing corn from the Sauks. Clark showed little inclination to trust a delegation of principal men from a Rock River Winnebago band who met him in St. Louis "on a visit of inquiry and friendly professions." In passing on Forsyth's report, Clark claimed to Secretary of War John Caldwell Calhoun that "no confidence can be placed in this vicious Tribe" because "they have later been very insolent and even threatened Fort Armstrong after having killed their cattle." Clark asserted that a lesson for the Winnebago renegades was long overdue, for "they appear not to have any respect for our government, and friendly councils have never produced any favorable effect in preventing their excesses." 

John Caldwell Calhoun, U.S. Secretary of War.

To Forsyth, Clark urged vigilance, yet he admitted that he did not know what the federal government intended to do about the murderers. In April 1820, when Governor Lewis Cass was embarking on a tour of the Northwest, Calhoun reminded him that "certain individuals of the Winnebagoes, Chippewas, and Menomonee have evinced a hostile spirit, which must be repressed." In consultation with each tribe, wrote Calhoun, Cass should "represent to them the desire of the Government to cultivate friendly dispositions towards them, but which cannot be continued unless they effectually restrain the hostile conduct of their people."

In July, the scholarly Jedidiah Morse spent fifteen days in the vicinity of Green Bay on an expedition authorized by the War Department. In his final report, Morse stated that he found it difficult to obtain reliable information on the Winnebagos, partly because of the language barrier and partly because "no other tribe seems to possess so much jealousy of the whites, and such reluctance to have intercourse with them." Morse also commented on Winnebago's sense of territoriality. He confirmed that "they will suffer no encroachment upon their soil; nor any persons to pass through it, without giving a satisfactory explanation of their motives and intentions." Whites who failed to take that customary and precautionary step, said Morse, endangered their lives.

At the time, Morse's antipathy towards whites bated to a "state of consideration." Two young warriors' relatives had been accused of the murder and scalping of two soldiers just outside the gates of Fort Armstrong. Both Indian and white behavior during the episode is well documented in letters and reports, and a close analysis of those records reveals important cultural divergence in the matters of retributive justice and punishment. 

Francis Paul Prucha observes in his study of United States Indian policy that normal federal procedure in the early 1820s was to demand that accused Indians be surrendered by tribal leaders. If the chiefs resisted, various threats, military expeditions, seizure of hostages, or rewards to cooperative Indians generally achieved the purpose.

To American authorities, the murder and scalping of John Blottenburgh and Clement Attley Riggs, two unarmed soldiers on a woodcutting detail, appeared a wantonly savage act. Leaders of the suspected Winnebago bands were summoned and ordered to surrender the culprits. Calhoun directed Cass and Indian Agent Richard Graham to clarify to Winnebago leaders that such atrocities would not be regarded with impunity. Unless the chiefs demonstrated their loyalty by promptly surrendering the "wicked authors" of the crime, the government would consider the chiefs as participants in guilt, and the entire Winnebago nation would be "made to feel the just vengeance and retribution of the Government." Calhoun asserted that it was the responsibility of the chiefs to avert "disastrous consequences and annihilation." Indian gestures of friendship, while expected, were insufficient; the murderers had to be handed over to federal authorities.

Calhoun, however, urged restraint. Rather than overreact to frontier reports of a contemplated general Winnebago attack on Fort Armstrong, he described the killings as the work of a few individuals acting "without the knowledge or authority of the Chiefs." The latter, he correctly predicted, would "disavow it, or any hostility on the part of their nation towards the United States, but take the most prompt and active measures to cause the perpetrators to be arrested and delivered for punishment." 

Lieutenant Colonel Henry Leavenworth

Although his frontier commanders ─ impatient with slow-moving courts and aware of the difficulties of assembling creditable witnesses ─ often preferred summary execution by firing squad, Calhoun ordered that the accused Winnebagos be transferred to civil authorities. Lieutenant Colonel Henry Leavenworth, who had been summoned from Fort Snelling for the investigation, grumbled: "It would have been better to have executed them and then have tried them ─ If they are tried, they must be executed, or we shall feel the weight of the Winnebago Tomahawk." 

To ensure compliance, the Army seized four Winnebagos as hostages. They were released when the chiefs, as promised, brought three men to Prairie du Chien, "preceded by a white flag, and attended by a large concourse of the tribe." The next day Prairie du Chien justices of the peace interrogated the three Indians while the chiefs looked on. 

All three of the prisoners belonged to Winnebago bands on the Rock River. In the spring of 1820, they had set out for Fort Armstrong, ostensibly as traders. Sometimes en route, the eldest, Chewachera [or Chewacuhra], implored the other two's assistance in avenging the death of his sister and her husband, who the Indians claimed was attacked and left to drown by American soldiers. One of the warriors was as young as fifteen, and the other was Chewachera's nephew and therefore bound by custom to obey his commands. Jerago, the youngest of the trio, said that he resisted because he knew the act's consequences and their agent would be angry. He cried and begged the others to "forget our Relations that the Americans had killed." After unsuccessfully attempting to wrest the guns from his companions, he fired shots to alert his mother and thwart the plan. Jerago would not disavow his loyalty to his fellow tribesmen in yielding to interrogation. "They went off and killed two soldiers," he said. "I did not wish to be drawn into this business, but since I have had Irons put upon my hands, which hurts me, I will remain with them."

According to stories told separately by each prisoner, there had been no elaborate scheme for ambushing officers at the fort; the act was premeditated only one day. Wading from their camp on the east bank of the river to the island on which the fort stood, the three determined to lie in wait for someone to come out. If no one appeared after a considerable time, they resolved to forego revenge and simply enter the fort, shake hands, and have a friendly smoke ─ the original preference of the two younger men. But when Blottenburgh and Riggs appeared, the warriors shot them, and Chewachera bashed their heads with the back of an axe and scalped them. The three headed back up Rock River without stopping to stretch the scalps on a hoop. En route to their village, they were taunted by their tribesmen for their rash act. Chewachera and his nephew Whorahjinka were "so much cursed" at their lodge that they unceremoniously threw away the Soldiers' scalps.

Winnebago society placed restrictions on individuals who wished to seek retribution. Permission had to be secured from the chiefs. Warriors who failed to receive that permission, or refused to pursue it, subjected themselves to the only restrictive measures that the chief and the community could adopt ─ temporary loss of prestige, the sort of treatment suffered by the three Winnebago.

Chewachera openly admitted his guilt. He absolved the other two of murderous intent and corroborated their versions of the affair. He did, however, amplify his reasons for revenge:

I knew that my sister had been ill-used below I did not think any more of that. I never had any ill intentions until I heard that my sister had been abused ─ Women ought to be respected. My Father did not encourage any person to use women ill. But my sister had been ill-treated. . . and when I came near the place where it was done, I lost my senses and did a bad act I have done it I delivered up my body to the Chiefs what more can I say.

Whorahjinka added that when they were leaving their lodges, the women had cried on behalf of the slain relatives, and the recollection of that scene helped to trigger the killing of the soldiers. Twice he tried to prevent the contemplated act but finally acquiesced because "my body belonged to my Uncle. I was obliged to do as he did or told me to do."

In an effort to ascertain the facts and project an impartial posture, White authorities attested to the veracity of the interpreters used in the proceedings. One of them, an Indian of an unspecified tribe known as Fast Walker, satisfied the whites before he was sworn in that he knew the purpose and obligations attached to an oath, stating that the Great Spirit would not forgive him ─ even beyond the grave ─ should he lie under oath. When asked the customary way in which to bind an Indian's word, Fast Walker replied, "By laying the hand on a Medicine Sack, a ball or an arrow and saying, 'May my Medicine prove bad, or may the ball or the arrow pierce my heart if I tell a lie.' " Rather than request a medicine bag for his own swearing-in, he told the whites: "The Americans know more than the Indians. I see you have a book there you say is the word of God (or the heart of God). I believe it and will attest upon it as you do."

Leavenworth conducted the interrogation before an assemblage of Rock River Winnebago. Referring to Chewachera's accusations, Leavenworth insisted that the matter had been looked into by Nicholas Boilvin, the United States Indian agent at Prairie du Chien. Boilvin, after talking to a man who had buried the Winnebago couple, reported that although one of the bodies bore marks that might have been attributed to an accident, neither body had broken bones, nor was there evidence that the woman had been assaulted. He said they drowned after falling through the ice. Leavenworth dismissed the charges against the Americans as a lie sung in the Indians' ears by "some bad bird." He claimed that two years had elapsed since the disputed incident and that it was as unreasonable for Winnebago to kill his young men at Rock Island in retaliation for those drowning victims as it would be for him now to kill Winnebago at Prairie La Crosse or Black River in response to the murders of the soldiers.

As on previous occasions, Leavenworth promised that if tribal leaders reported to him any cases of Americans killing Winnebago, he would punish the perpetrators. In a rhetorical flourish that his listeners could not have taken seriously, the Colonel claimed that if his own Father or brother killed an Indian, he would spare no effort to have him hanged, and "such are the sentiments of every white man."

In order to demonstrate "our love of justice [and] that we do not wish to harm the innocent," the authorities released Jerago after concluding that he had done everything possible to prevent the crime. That magnanimous gesture, Leavenworth warned, should not be misconstrued; justice also required that the guilty be punished. Glossing over such Winnebago concepts of justice as payment to relatives of victims, Leavenworth asserted that the "unfortunate young men" had "committed a crime which by your laws subject them to the punishment of death." "Our laws," he concluded, "are the same."

Commending the Winnebago for their good faith in surrendering the murderers and lifting the cloud of distrust that hung over their nation, Leavenworth reminded them that for several years the Rock River bands had had had a bad reputation among whites. He hoped that their future conduct would disprove that negative appraisal. Finally, he warned against asking for the release of the two remaining prisoners, who, in his opinion, deserved the death penalty. In fact, he saw no reason why the Winnebago did not execute those of their nation who killed whites.

Apparently, the Winnebago made threats when they learned that only Jerago would be returned. The delegation had the temerity to tell Leavenworth that he should release the others for the sake of his "Forts and children." Leavenworth scolded them:

What do you mean by that? Is it war? If war serves your intention, you should have kept the prisoners and not given them up. Neither my Forts nor my soldiers are afraid of war ─ they are always ready and would be pleased with it if the Winnebagos wish it. You behaved like men in giving up the prisoners, but in asking me to release them again, you act like old women asking for bread.

The Colonel claimed to have made no promises regarding Chewachera and Whorahjinka. He judged that they were guilty and that Jerago was innocent. Leavenworth instructed the delegation to close any pending business with their agent and return to their villages. He expected assurances that the chiefs would restrain their men.

After meeting in the council, Shungapaw spoke for the Indians. He wished to know when Leavenworth was leaving to go upriver so that the band could accompany him. The suspicious Colonel refused to reveal his plans beyond saying that he intended to hold the prisoners until receiving orders from the President. Upon noticing that Shungapaw no longer wore an American medal (a gift of friendship), Leavenworth accused the Winnebago of mischievous intent. "When you are desirous of any favor, you are very good Americans and appear to be proud of wearing their medals," he said, "but when your wishes are disappointed, you throw them aside." Indeed, he warned them that a watchful eye would be kept upon them because he expected to hear of more murders. Next time, the Americans would not await a surrender; annihilation would be the result for those who began warfare. Shungapaw denied any evil intention and explained that he had given his medal to the brother of one of the prisoners in order to assuage his grief. He maintained that neither the chiefs nor the warriors present had mentioned war and that all were satisfied that their "Great Father, the President," would decide the prisoners' fate.

Reporting to Calhoun after a tour through Winnebago country, Governor Cass expressed satisfaction with Leavenworth's "wise and decisive" handling of matters. The Indians had learned a lesson, said Cass, and the United States should regret nothing except the "untimely fate of the soldiers." Commenting on the likelihood of future complaints, Cass was confident, after talking with men he termed principal Winnebago chiefs, that only the "intemperate passions of Individuals" would again produce such conduct. The chiefs, he believed, would disavow violent acts and would surrender offenders as quickly "as the relaxed state of their Government" would permit.

Leavenworth took the prisoners from Rock Island to Edwardsville in the autumn of 1820. From there, they were transferred to the jail at Belleville. The trial finally took place on May 12, 1821, after Chewachera and Whorahjinka had been held for nearly a year. Jacob Hough, a soldier from Fort Armstrong, testified that he and Andrew Peeling found the bodies of Blottenburgh and Riggs less than a mile from the fort. The two victims had been shot and scalped, and Blottenburgh was hacked in the left side with an axe. Jerago, having been called to testify, told the same story he had related in the earlier interrogation. The jury took only half an hour to reach a verdict of guilty. The following day Chewachera and Whorahjinka were sentenced to death by hanging; the execution was set for mid-July.

The physical condition of the two prisoners was a matter of grave concern both in the Illinois press and among their fellow Winnebago. According to one account, the two had been "hearty, robust men" in the fall of 1820 but were "scarcely able to stand or move by the trial." Upon inquiry by Leavenworth and others, the Indians made specific complaints about their treatment in jail during the winter. According to their statements, they had neither fire nor bedding and were made to sleep on a hard floor. Their daily rations consisted of "cornbread of the size of a small biscuit and half that quantity of meat." On one occasion, they received no food or water for three days and nights. The Illinois Intelligence called for an investigation in the belief that the allegations of inhumanity were exaggerated. One editorialist asked rhetorically: 

Do we call ourselves a Christian nation: Do we boast of our humanity ─ our justice? Were these men in the custody of American people and American laws? If this is true, in what do our prisons differ from those of the Spanish Inquisition or ourselves from nations we are pleased to call barbarous and uncivilized?

William A. Beaird, sheriff of St. Clair County and keeper of the Belleville jail, was accused of mistreating the Winnebago prisoners. He responded to the charges by writing a letter to the newspaper "to teach editors not to injure the characters of innocent persons on the false statements of murdering Indians." In reply to the sheriff, the editor reminded readers that the Indians' statements were not false merely because of their source and that at least one of the two men might still be vindicated of the murder charge. Sheriff Beaird maintained that the prisoners were kept in a thick-walled dungeon in which a fire would have been impossible but through which no cold drafts could penetrate. There was no suggestion, he said, that the Indians be moved near a fireplace. He labeled the charge regarding the bedding "a most absolute falsity" because Indian Agent Thomas Forsyth, wintering in St. Louis, had provided two blankets and two buffalo robes. Although Beaird said the prisoners had not fared well over the winter, he claimed they had more food than they could eat. Noticing that during the incarceration, one "dangerously. . . broke out in large sores, and bleeding at the nose, toothache, and scurvy," Beaird frequently had ordered that soup be prepared as "an extra dainty." The unaccustomed salt provision and their "close confinement in a very tight prison" caused what he called their "meager appearance."

Following the sentencing, Naw Kaw Carmani, the last Winnebago claiming a tribal-wide chieftainship, spoke to the assemblage. Although he would live until after 1830, Naw Kaw was already in his late eighties. In an opening litany of stock phrases, he claimed to be an American, pleading by the Great Spirit that he stood sincerely for peace, and stated that he had less power in his nation than the judge who had just pronounced the sentence. Then bitterness came through in his closing remarks:

When I came down here, I had hoped to find that Che-wa-cha-rah and Who-rah-jin-kah had been better treated, but my heart is oppressed at the cruelty that they have received. I did hope that pity would have been found for them. . . . But let peace be between us. I look up to our Great Father as I do to the Great Spirit for protection.

My Father ─ I came here to see justice, but find none ─ Cah-rah-mah-ree is honest, speaks what he thinks, and shakes you by the hand for the last time.

A report of the trial and verdict was sent to Washington. President James Monroe approved of the sentences meted out to the "misguided" Winnebago, but he had reservations regarding the pre-trial examinations of the accused. As a result, Secretary of War Calhoun was instructed to send word of a temporary reprieve for Whorahjinka. That decision showed at least some sensitivity to Indian perceptions of the circumstances. Whorahjinka's "extreme youth" certainly figured into the move, but so too did an appreciation that he acted as the nephew of Chewachera, "to whom he appeared to consider his body to belong and that he was of course bound to do whatever he told him to do." Whorahjinka's execution date was delayed to August 14, and Calhoun queried William Clark about the impact on the Winnebago of a full presidential pardon. In late June, the enfeebled Chewachera died in prison.

Presidential reprieve proved a false hope, for Leavenworth, who served as a prosecutor in the trial, was convinced that Whorahjinka's guilt was indisputable. While admitting that the Indians had been mistreated in captivity, Leavenworth felt positive that the tribes would "harbor motives of revenge" if Whorahjinka were released. On the expiration of the reprieve, Whorahjinka was hanged at Kaskaskia.

Agent Forsyth confirmed the predicted hostile mood of the Winnebago when he requested that his quarters be located adjacent to Fort Armstrong, as the Winnebago were "by no means well intended, on account (as they say) of the treatment their two men experienced previous to their trial." Fearful of Winnebago's revenge, American policymakers followed the old Anglo-Saxon custom (closely paralleling Indian practice) of making a wergild, or payment, in order to appease the victims' relatives and defuse any desire for retaliation. Because the bands were living near Thomas Forsyth's agency (although not within his jurisdiction), the War Department instructed him to make moderate compensation to the relatives of the two dead Indians "to relieve [them] from the distress which . . . they have suffered."

The Fort Armstrong murders and the resulting trial of the Winnebago prisoners illustrate the extent to which Indians of Illinois complied outwardly with the white man's system of justice. Yet their submission to Anglo-American legal concepts was structured whenever possible with an eye to conformity with their own traditionalism. 

Through the 1820s, continuing American penetration of the Winnebago domain provoked a variety of sporadic responses by Winnebago individuals and bands. Although initially, no tribal-wide policy underlay such responses, Americans insisted that a well-coordinated tribal policy existed. It thus became increasingly difficult for the Indians to practice traditional customs involving justice and land tenure, especially when confronted by the invasions of lead miners. 

The 1825 council at Prairie du Chien at which William Clark and Lewis Cass presented the treaty establishing intertribal boundaries for eleven Michigan Territory tribes. Artist James Otto Lewis, who attended the council, painted this scene.

In 1825 the United States imposed the first regional intertribal boundary treaty. In 1827, the so-called "Winnebago War" was declared by whites in reaction to a raid similar to the Fort Armstrong affair. The treaty ending that conflict gave the government the opportunity to impose the first actual cession of Winnebago lands in Illinois and Wisconsin.

Journal of the Illinois State Historical Society, 1980.

Edited by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

The Polluted Chicago River History of Improvements in Water Quality.

Along the Chicago River, further from the lakefront, the river remained something to be tolerated rather than enjoyed.

definition

Water pollution is the contamination of water bodies that, include lakes, rivers, oceans, aquifers, reservoirs and groundwater, usually due to human activities, so it negatively affects its uses.  

In 1926, the "Henry C. Grebe & Co. Inc. Shipyard" moved to Chicago on the north branch of the Chicago River at Belmont Avenue, across the river from the famous Riverview Amusement Park. During WWII, the shipyard built over 56 ships, wood and steel, for the U.S. Navy, including 21 tugboats, 4 tankers, and 28 minesweepers.

Grebe Shipyard looks east across the Chicago River. Note Riverview Park's rides, Shoot the Chutes and The Bobs Roller Coaster in the background, circa 1928.

The opening of Chicago's first wastewater treatment plant in 1928 reduced the amount of raw sewage, but the river remained laden with industrial chemicals and byproducts. Riverside real estate was cheap, and river wards, dominated by pollution and stench, were still some of the poorest neighborhoods in the city.

During the Great Depression, many lived directly on the river's North Branch in a floating makeshift houseboat squatters' camp near Irving Park Road.

Houseboats sat along the Chicago River's North Branch between 1920 - 1929.

Around the same time, riverfront property near Division Street on Diversey Parkway was chosen as the site for one of the nation's first low-income housing projects, the Chicago Housing Authority's Julia Lathrop Homes.

Aerial view of 18th Street and the Chicago River during the river straightening project in May 1929.

The overcrowded, impoverished area on and around Goose Island became known as "Little Hell," a reference to the conditions on the island and the coal gasification plant that belched out smoke and flames nearby. It was occupied by a succession of immigrant groups who came to work in the steel mills and other factories along the North Branch.

Four girls standing in an empty lot in Little Hell in September 1902. 

The relationship between Chicago's river and its people has entered a new chapter in recent years. Aided by the mid-twentieth-century deindustrialization, a growing sense of environmental stewardship, federal regulations such as the Clean Water Act of 1972, and yet another round of monumental public works projects, the Chicago River continues to undergo dramatic improvements in water quality and accessibility.

Construction on the Tunnel and Reservoir Plan (TARP), or Deep Tunnel, began in 1975. The first portion of the massive underground system began functioning in 1981. It is a project that outdoes even Chicago's forebearers in terms of investment. When it is completed in 2029 at the cost of $3.8 billion, it should be able to hold up to 20.55 billion gallons of excess water.

The Deep Tunnel project has reduced the number of combined sewer overflows (CSO) that take place in a year. But even in the areas where it is fully operational, it hasn't managed to eliminate them completely. And given the increasing prevalence of intense, fast-moving storms, the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago (MWRD) now says that TARP will unlikely completely resolve Chicago's sewage overflow problem in the future.

Since shortly after the passage of the federal Clean Water Act of 1972, a network of environmental groups has steadily gained in size and political strength and used it to monitor polluters and pressure government agencies, including the MWRD, to continue improving the Chicago River.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

The Winning of the Illinois County of Virginia (1778) from the British in the American Revolution (1775-1783).

The Illinois County was already occupied by settlers, most of whom spoke Algonquian and Siouan languages before the French and English arrived. (Map by Jacques Nicolas Bellin, 1755)

After winning the French and Indian War in 1763, the British controlled forts at Detroit and in what is now Indiana and Illinois.

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The Illinois County of Virginia (1673-1778) was a political and geographic region, part of the British Province of Quebec, claimed during the American Revolutionary War on July 4, 1778, by George Rogers Clark of the Virginia Militia as a result of the Illinois Campaign. The Virginia-based local government lasted only six years. Illinois County was extinguished when Virginia ceded its claims to the Northwest Territory to the United States in 1784. 

After the American Revolution started, those British bases became a threat to Virginians rather than a source of protection. The British repeated the tactics used by the French in the French and Indian War. Delivery of guns and ammunition to Native Americans enabled them to attack backcountry farms and settlements, with the greatest impact on Kentucky County Virginians. The General Assembly had created Kentucky County in 1776 to counter efforts by Richard Henderson and the Transylvania Company to split that territory off from Virginia.

The British built a new fort on the Wabash River at Vincennes in 1777, enhancing the supply route. The Virginian response to the threat to western settlement during the American Revolution matched the British response in the French and Indian War - capture the supply bases to cut off supplies to the Native Americans, as Fort Duquesne was captured in 1758.

George Rogers Clark, the ranking militia officer in Kentucky County, traveled back to Williamsburg. He convinced Gov. Patrick Henry and other key officials that a military response was necessary. The cost concerned the officials in Williamsburg, but Clark got two sets of orders from Governor Henry.

His public orders authorized him to defend Kentucky, but the secret orders allowed him to launch an attack west into British-held territory. Clark desired to seize Detroit but started by capturing easier targets with no British forces to defend them.

Governor Patrick Henry provided secret orders in 1778 for George Rogers Clark to attack Kaskaskia and Vincennes. (January 2, 1778)

Clark gathered about 175 men to form the Illinois Regiment, recruiting from Carolina to Fort Pitt. In a private letter signed by Thomas Jefferson, George Mason, and George Wythe, he was assured that his recruits would be granted a bounty of 300 acres of land in addition to standard pay.

He managed to move by boat downstream from Louisville on the Ohio River by marching cross-country to Kaskaskia on the Mississippi River. The few British officials at Kaskaskia were surprised and offered no resistance. The Roman Catholic vicar there championed the American cause, and the French residents welcomed Clark's force. The residents at Cahokia and Vincennes were equally supportive, and in July 1778, the British lost control of the territory south of Detroit.

George Rogers Clark obtained supplies in Virginia, then traveled to Kentucky and seized control of the future Northwest Territory in 1778-1779.

In December, Lieutenant Governor Henry Hamilton brought a handful of regular British troops from the 8th Regiment of Foot, Detroit militia, and Native Americans from Detroit and quickly recaptured Vincennes. He chose to upgrade Fort Sackville there rather than attack Clark at Kaskaskia. Because getting supplies to Vincennes was so tricky, Hamilton sent most of his men back to Detroit.

Clark made a middle-of-winter march to recapture Vincennes before Hamilton could strengthen defenses there. Clark led an expedition of nearly 175 men, including French allies recruited at Kaskaskia, 180 miles east through the flooded wilderness, through swamps with water at times as high as their shoulders.

In February 1779, the Virginians marched from Kaskaskia to Vincennes through prairie and forests flooded by seasonal high waters.

The winter march from Kaskaskia to Vincennes required 17 days to cover over 150 miles.

Clark wrote later in his memoirs:

In the spring, we knew that Governor Hamilton would be at the head of such a force that nothing in this quarter could withstand his arms, that Kentucky must immediately fall... We saw but one alternative, which was to attack the enemy in their quarters... the enemy could not suppose that we should be so mad as to attempt to march eighty leagues through a drowned country in the depths of winter, that they would be off their guard and probably would not think it worthwhile to keep out spies that... we might surprise them.

Kentucky County was exposed to raids by Native Americans, which the British supplied from Detroit and other forts.

Hamilton was caught by surprise and lacked adequate manpower to defend the fort. After a brief resistance, he surrendered.

George Rogers Clark recaptured Fort Sackville at Vincennes and imprisoned Lieutenant Governor Henry Hamilton in 1779.

Clark had Hamilton and the British officers taken 1,200 miles east to Williamsburg. He was imprisoned as a common criminal rather than treated as an officer captured in War. Hamilton was treated harshly because Governor Thomas Jefferson and top Virginia officials thought he was responsible for Native American raids in the backcountry where settlers were scalped. Because the British provided resources for the raiders, Hamilton was called the "Hair Buyer."

Clark lacked the resources to attack Detroit, and the British occupied the fort until 1796.

George Rogers Clark and the Illinois Regiment recaptured Vincennes in 1779.

The Virginia General Assembly asserted its claim to the captured territory by creating the Illinois Country in 1778.

In 1781, it authorized the officers in the Illinois Regiment to identify a 150,000-acre parcel north of the Ohio River where land grants would be awarded for service in that regiment. General Clark was given over 8,000 acres, officers received over 2,000 acres each, and privates were granted just 108 acres each. Clark's Grant of 150,000 acres, including 1,000 acres designated for creating the town of Clarksville, ended up within the state of Indiana.

The General Assembly created Illinois Country on December 9, 1778, after George Rogers Clark captured Vincennes and brought Lieutenant Governor Henry Hamilton to Williamsburg as a captive.

During the 1783 peace negotiations that ended the American Revolution, American control of the territory was acknowledged. The Northwest Territory was ceded to the United States of America in the Treaty of Paris. The western boundary was drawn from Lake of the Woods, then by a line to be drawn along the Middle of the Mississippi River until it shall intersect the Northernmost Part of the thirty-first Degree of North Latitude.

The British refused to evacuate forts, citing that the Americans were violating the treaty by refusing to allow British lenders to collect on debts owed by Americans. British forces left the fort at Detroit only in 1796, after the British and their Indian allies were defeated in the Battle of Fallen Timbers in 1794, many tribal leaders signed the Treaty of Greeneville in 1795, and the US Senate ratified the Jay Treaty in 1796.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.