Illinois 'River Pirates' in the Northwest Territory in the 1790s.

The "Wild West" image that comes to mind is that of the Western United States in the decades after the Civil War. In the late eighteenth century, the Wild West was a bit further east, so to speak. In its pre-statehood days, Illinois had its share of ne'er-do-wells, confident men, thieves, and murderers.

Samuel Ross Mason

One such man was Samuel Ross Mason (also spelled Meason). Mason was born in Virginia in 1739 and served in the Pennsylvania Militia during the Revolutionary War. Mason stole provisions in Virginia, robbed houses in Knoxville, Tennessee, and killed a constable in Kentucky.

This final act led him to move his headquarters further downriver to Cave-in-Rock (now the Cave-in-Rock State Park in Hardin County) on the Illinois shore in 1797. By this time, he had gathered a number of followers who openly based themselves at Cave-in-Rock. 

The Ohio River in the 1790s was a teeming inland highway of commerce and emigrants.

Here, Mason and his men would warmly welcome riverboat travelers to rest and eat. However, while these visitors enjoyed the hospitality, Mason's men checked their supplies and goods for anything of value. If they found something, they would wait until the next day and, when the visitors continued, would rob them as they made their way around the river's bend.

Philip Alston was a South Carolinian of polished manners and good education who, early in his life, learned the art of counterfeiting, His specialty was not bogus notes so much as bogus coins. A coin die, for the making of counterfeit half dollars, was found in the cave, which may have belonged to Alston and later to John Duff.

Cave-in-Rock, Illinois.

Cave-in-Rock was the most famous of the counterfeiting caves and one of the first of the "coiners," John Duff, was the probable brother-in-law of Samuel Mason, seems to have operated in the Cave while Mason and his robbers were still there, and began those operations even before Mason moved in.

While at Cave-in-Rock, Mason and his men briefly harbored the notorious Wiley Harpe and his brothers, who were on the run from the law. The Harpe Brothers were the most brutal outlaws then and distinguished themselves as America's first serial killers. Though the Mason Gang could be ruthless, even they were appalled at the actions of the Harpes. After the murderous pair began to take travelers to the top of the bluff, stripping them naked and throwing them off, they were asked to leave.

Cave-in-Rock, Illinois, view on the Ohio River (circa 1832).

In the summer of 1799, the Mason Gang was forced to leave Cave-in-Rock when they were attacked by a group called the “Exterminators.” Captain Young of Mercer County, Kentucky, led this group of vigilante bounty hunters. Mason then moved his operations downriver, settled his family in Spanish Louisiana, and became a highwayman on the Natchez Trace in Mississippi, robbing and killing unsuspecting travelers. It was on the Natchez Trace that Mason received his most infamous nickname. He would leave a message after each crime (often in the blood of his murdered victims), proudly stating, "Done by Mason of the Woods."

In April 1802, Mississippi Governor William C.C. Claiborne was informed that Samuel Mason and Wiley Harpe had attempted to board the boat of Colonel Joshua Baker between Yazoo and Walnut Hills, now Vicksburg, Mississippi. The governor responded by ordering Colonel Daniel Burnet, with 15-20 volunteers to track down Mason and his men. A reward of $2,000 was offered for their capture.

Though there were dozens of men searching for the Mason Gang, the outlaws continued with their evil deeds along the Natchez Trace, striking one caravan with horrific brutality. In response, another posse of local residents and a few bounty hunters was raised to go after them. Learning that Mason and his men were hiding out less than a mile west of the Trace near Rocky Springs, Mississippi, the posse quickly pursued. When they came upon the camp, they found it had been hastily abandoned. Though the outlaws' trail was fresh, most of the posse chose not to follow, instead remaining at the camp searching for any hidden loot that the outlaws may have left. A few men, however, continued the pursuit, but when they lost the trail, they abandoned the search.

Months later, Spanish officials were more successful. In January 1803, they arrested Mason, four of his sons, and several other men at the Little Prairie settlement, now Caruthersville, in southeastern Missouri. Mason and his family members were taken to the colonial government in New Madrid, Missouri, where a three-day hearing was held to determine whether Mason was a pirate. Although Mason claimed he was simply a farmer who had been maligned by his enemies, the presence of $7,000 in currency and 20 human scalps in his baggage convinced the Spanish he was guilty. Mason, his family, and the other men were then boarded on a boat to be taken to New Orleans, where they would be handed over to the American governor in the Mississippi Territory. However, while being transported, Mason and Wiley Harpe, using John Sutton's alias, overpowered their guards and fled. Though Mason was shot in the leg, he made good his escape.

Governor William C. C. Claiborne immediately added an additional $500 reward for their recapture, making the total reward $2500. This staggering amount prompted Wiley Harpe and another man to bring Mason's head in an attempt to claim the reward in September 1803. Whether they killed Mason or he died from his leg wound is unknown. However, rather than collecting a reward, the two pirates were recognized, arrested, tried in federal court, and found guilty of piracy. They were hanged in Greenville, Mississippi, in early 1804.

Rivers hold many legends and stories. Mason's is one of the few stories of river pirates in Illinois that can be substantiated. It speaks to Illinois's days as a part of the wild frontier.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

Abraham Lincoln's Nomination for President in Chicago in 1860.

Abraham Lincoln, June 3, 1860

Probably the most shocking political event to occur in Chicago in the middle 1800s was on May 18, 1860, when Abraham Lincoln was nominated for the Presidency of the United States in a two-story wooden hall called the Wigwam.

It was a carefully engineered event and one that rarely occurred. To this day, many are still pondering the mystery of how a minor contender in the presidential race managed to achieve a sweeping victory with the third nomination ballot.

The key to solving the mystery is Chicago itself. Lincoln's supporters, who had fashioned the man with the image of a backwoods rail-splitter, were thrilled that the event was held in the city. Lincoln was an Illinois man with many friends and newspaper support on the prairie.

The Republicans were holding only their second National Convention and, for the first time, had a chance to usher one of their candidates into power. The dominant Democratic Party was split over the issue of extending slavery into the territories, and their divided vote gave the Republicans hope. Coming into Chicago, the favorite to win the nomination was New York senator William H. Seward. His supporters and delegates were so assured of his victory that they focused more on his choice of a running mate than on his actual nomination.

The Old Chicago Wigwam Building. The building in which Lincoln was nominated for the Presidency on May 18, 1860.

The Convention opened on Wednesday, May 16, with over 10,000 people packed into the Wigwam while an additional 20,000 stood outside. Four years earlier, in Philadelphia, the Republicans had drawn no more than 4,000 people to their Convention. The meeting was called to order and was followed by a stirring address from David Wilmot of Pennsylvania. After that, the day was spent electing a chairman and constructing a platform. The platform was adopted.

Served at the Republican National Convention in Chicago were David Berg hot dogs, founded in Chicago in 1860. It was a trendy item because it was hand-held and easy to eat. Lincoln did not attend the Convention, staying in Springfield, so there was no chance of him eating a David Berg hot dog.

The platform was modified on Thursday, with the first ballot scheduled for later that evening. Many expected Seward to be chosen by a landslide, so a chorus of groans greeted Chairman George Ashmun when he announced that the printers had failed to deliver the tally sheets. Since no vote could be taken, a motion was adopted to adjourn until Friday.

Inside the Wigwam at Chicago on May 18, 1860.

Lincoln's campaign manager, David Davis, was thrilled. He and his compatriots, who included Lincoln's long-time friends Ward Hill Lamon, William H. Herndon, and Stephen T. Logan, saw the delay as a sign from God. Led by Lamon, several of Lincoln's friends began scrawling the names of convention officers on admission tickets while Norman B. Judd, a railroad attorney, arranged for special trains to bring more Lincoln supporters to the city.

While Lincoln's men worked behind the scenes, Seward's followers publicly declared their man the winner and even put a brass band into the streets on Friday morning. They marched from their hotel to discover that the Wigwam was so crowded that few people other than delegates could find seats. The bogus tickets passed out by Lincoln's men had been used in such numbers that the hall was now packed with his supporters.

The first roll call of the states gave Seward 173.5 votes, but 236 were needed to win. Lincoln followed with 102 votes, with Simon Cameron of Pennsylvania, Salmon P. Chase of Ohio and Edward Bates of Missouri each received about 50 votes. Recognizing that Pennsylvania would be crucial in winning the nomination, David Davis arranged for delegates of that state to be seated between Illinois and Indiana, both of which strongly backed Lincoln. He then convinced the delegates from Pennsylvania that if Seward won the nomination, the party would lose the election. As a result, Cameron withdrew.

When the second ballot was tallied, it offered a stunning surprise, especially to Seward's supporters. Their candidate had only gained 11 votes, but Lincoln's total had increased by 79. That left Chase of Ohio in third place with 42.5 votes.

Workers in the Lincoln campaign had been busy contacting delegates from every state, using a deceptively simple strategy. Instead of asking for votes on the first ballot, they persuaded as many men as possible to make Lincoln their second choice. They also stressed the contrast between Lincoln and Seward. Lincoln had been guarded in his campaign so far and had been careful not to offend anyone. Meanwhile, Seward had made his position clear on most national issues. Seward was the only nationally known Republican who had allegedly praised John Brown's recent attack on Harper's Ferry and had hinted at a civil war by warning that an "irrepressible conflict" seemed to be coming because of slavery. Lincoln, on the other hand, was on record as opposing the extension of slavery into the territories. He also underscored the conviction that slavery, where it existed, was lawful and that it should not be challenged. He believed that the institution would eventually die out.

There was a sharp contrast between the familiar candidate with controversial views and the little-known rival who was not nearly so eager to enter into war. The contrast was not enough to allow Lincoln to win on just those merits. Lincoln's managers seemed willing to promise almost anything to those who would back him. Legend has it that Lincoln sent a telegram to Davis from Springfield that instructed him to make no bargains. "Make no contracts that bind me," he allegedly wrote. It has been said that Davis used that message to show those who hesitated to back Lincoln that the candidate was not offering positions in his administration with a free hand. Rumor says otherwise, and stories have since been told that Davis managed to persuade delegates to abandon their favorite candidates with promises of positions in Lincoln's cabinet.

Whatever happened in Chicago's notorious "smoke-filled rooms" remains a mystery. We know that when the third ballot was taken, Seward lost 4.5 votes and now needed 56 to win. However, Lincoln gained 53.5 votes and was within 1.5 votes of the nomination. The interior of the Wigwam became nearly deafening with the assembled party's mingled shouts, cries, and laughter. As soon as he could be heard above the commotion, David K. Carter of Ohio jumped up and shouted that five of the delegates from the Buckeye State wanted to switch their votes over to Lincoln. When the commotion subsided again, other states began to call for Lincoln as their new nominee. After all of the 466 votes had been cast, Lincoln had 364 of them -- 128 more than the number he needed to win.

But how did Lincoln manage to pull off such a sweeping victory? Did his campaign managers really trade positions for votes? No one knows, and nothing was ever documented that said for sure either way. Journalist Charles H. Ray, a Lincoln's inner circle member, later said that the managers promised Indiana and Pennsylvania everything they requested. Carter of Ohio, who started the dramatic third-ballot uprising, was said to have been promised a high-level cabinet position. While other rumors abound, it has yet to be proven.

One thing is clear, though. Many who stepped aside for Lincoln and worked for him behind the scenes were chosen for important posts. Seward was made secretary of state; Chase received the Treasury Department portfolio; Cameron became secretary of war and the fourth contender for the nomination. Edward Bates became Lincoln's attorney general. David Davis had hoped to become a federal judge and was appointed to the U.S. Supreme Court in 1862. Ward Hill Lamon, who created all of the bogus tickets, became the District of Columbia marshal. William P. Dole, credited with securing the Indiana and Pennsylvania votes, was named commissioner of Indian Affairs. And the list went on.

Abraham Lincoln is today considered one of the nation's greatest presidents, but his nomination to that office came very close to never taking place. He might not have made it to the White House if not for backroom politics. In this case, it's a good thing that the Convention was held in Chicago - where questionable politics are the accepted method of doing business.

By Troy Taylor, Adam Selzer and Ken Melvoin-Berg.
Edited by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.