Autos Scare Horses, Three Women Injuried in Homer, Illinois, November 21, 1907

A WORD OF WARNING

Since three serious accidents have occurred lately to ladies in this vicinity directly attributable to horses being frightened at automobiles, this question has become an important one and a word of warning to automobile drivers has become necessary.

Downtown Homer, Illinois in 1908 as viewed from the Rose Grain Elevator.

We believe that Homer owners and drivers of automobiles are desirous that their machines not prove a menace or a disturbance to the community, yet many are that claim and circumstances to prove it. Many horses never will become accustom to these horseless conveniences, and since horses were here first and must necessarily remain, the auto drivers must do all in their power to avoid accidents in the best interest of everybody. 

Homer Enterprise Newspaper, Homer, Illinois
November 21, 1907 

Electric (Amusement) Park, Kankakee, Illinois. (1894-1934)

Electric Park opened at the end of Kankakee's streetcar line on Osborn Avenue in 1894. The park was considered the "Coney Island" of Kankakee. It was located on what was then the eastern limits of Kankakee, on the edge of the city. The name "Electric Park" was itself a draw. For these were the times before modern street lights. Most streets in the city were unlit. A place with lighting after dark was enchanting.

The amusement park was an Emory Cobb[1] promotion. Cobb was an early Kankakee entrepreneur responsible for several municipal improvements, including the town waterworks and Hotel Riverview, which opened in 1887 at a cost of $80,000 ($2,128,481 today). The hotel consisted of 80 guest rooms, an immense covered veranda, tennis courts and croquet grounds, and beach access to the river complete with rowboats.

The idea behind the amusement park was, in part, to sell more streetcar tickets. Admission to the amusement park was a nickel, but it was free if you used the trolley. Use of the bath house, to change into your swimming suit, was an extra one and a half cents[2]. In the winter the park offered ice skating. The theater on the site could hold 700. The dance pavilion was named the "Green Lantern."

Over the years Electric Park held boxing matches and dance-a-thons. Special events at the theater, like a play or an orchestra performance, would command an extra dime for admission.

Electric Park was part of a time when Kankakee served as a Northern Illinois tourist mecca, drawing customers out of Chicago. The Hotel Riverview, the Great Interstate Fair (located where Old Fair Park is today), steamboats and amusement parks were all part of that time. From 1897-1899, the YMCA operated an Athletic Park, which included bicycle racing, adjacent to Electric Park.

Electric Park was designed to be family-friendly. No alcohol was sold. It was a competitor to the rougher Gougar's Grove further up the river. Gougar's Grove began to decline when the Sunday laws against beer sales and gambling were enforced.

The advent of the automobile helped lead to the demise of Electric Park. The park became part of the Kankakee Parks system in September, 1928. The coaster and buildings were dismantled by 1934.

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[1] Emory Cobb was the first settler to what would become the Riverview Historic District in Kankakee. Cobb was instrumental in the founding of Western Union, but retired in 1866 at age 34. He moved to Kankakee at this time and built his house at the southwest corner of what is now River Street and South Chicago Avenue. Cobb owned much of the land that would become the district, which he initially used as pasture. Heavily involved in Kankakee's early commercial development, Cobb decided to build a resort hotel on his property. The Riverview Hotel, located in what is now the triangle formed by Park Place, South Chicago Avenue, and South Greenwood Avenue, opened in 1887 and operated for ten years before it was destroyed in a fire. After the fire, Cobb subdivided most of his property for residential use.

[2] The half-cent is the smallest denomination of United States coin ever minted.

First authorized by the Coinage Act of 1792 on April 2, 1792, the coin was produced in the United States from 1793 to 1857. The half-cent piece was made of 100% copper and was valued at one two-hundredth of a dollar. It was slightly smaller than a modern U.S. quarter with diameters 22 mm (1793), 23.5 mm (1794–1836) and 23 mm (1840–1857). The half-cent coin was discontinued by the Coinage Act of February 21, 1857. They were all produced at the Philadelphia Mint.

The History of Cantonment Wilkinson (Army Base), located in the Indiana Territory, (now Pulaski County, Illiniois) 1801-02.

Cantonment Wilkinson was a large U.S. Army base located in the Indiana Territory, (now Pulaski County, Illiniois), from January, 1801, to April, 1802. “Cantonments” were essentially large temporary camps that lacked stockade or fortification walls. At its peak, cantonment Wilkinson was the largest military base in the country containing approximately 1,500 Infantry, Artillery, and Dragoon (cavalry) soldiers. 

The cantonment had its inception in a late 1790s diplomatic crisis between the United States and France. The French had begun seizing American ships on the high seas and it appeared that all-out war was imminent. In response, George Washington and Alexander Hamilton developed a plan for a large American military base or cantonment in the Ohio River valley. Once the war started, troops from this “Reserve Corps” would move into the Mississippi River Valley and capture the river and New Orleans and from the Spanish who were expected to ally themselves with the French. 

The contonment was established by Lieutenant Colonel David Strong in 1797 as a post of the United States Army. General James Wilkinson[1] (1757-1825) was put in charge of this operation despite rumors that he was a traitor in the pay of the Spanish Government as "Agent № 13," known as the "Spanish Conspiracy."[2]

Wilkinson ordered smaller posts such as Fort Massac[3] to be abandoned and added their garrisons to the Reserve Corps. Commonly alleged is that Wilkinson actually plotted with the Spanish for their seizure of Fort Massac (Metropolis, Illinois) in the so‑called "Tom Powers Plot."[4]

On November 14, 1801 Lewis and Clark deliberately passed the fort on the far side of the river and did not stop because they were worried about the motives of General Wilkinson being a conspirator for the Spanish.

General James Wilkinson

The crisis ended in late 1799 with the signing of a treaty between the U.S. and France. Despite this, ardent federalists such as Alexander Hamilton still hoped for war and plans for the cantonment continued. The first troops arrived at Cantonment Wilkinson in early January, 1801, and immediately began constructing log huts for shelter. According to an 1803 traveler’s account of the abandoned cantonment, it contained “2 to 3 hundred logged houses… built for our army in regular streets as a post or place of arms.” 

Some 500 to as many as 1500 men were stationed here during the period of 1798-1805, which was commonly called Fort Wilkinsonville.

As this description indicates, the cantonment was essentially a large camp of huts and other buildings used by the Army. The camp lacked a stockade wall with the boundaries of the camp instead patrolled by sentinels. Other features of the cantonment included quarter master supply buildings, hospital, bakery, brick works, powder magazine, commanding officer’s quarters, vegetable gardens, parade grounds, a boat yard and a log palisade enclosing the compound. About 400 acres were cleared with the site overlooking the Ohio River at the head of the Grand Chain of Rocks, about 14 miles above the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers.

The cantonment reached its peak strength in summer, 1801, when it contained approximately 1,500 soldiers and an unknown number of civilians including laundresses, nurses, sutlers (peddlers), and boat men. During this same time a deadly illness struck the cantonment with a reported 70 soldiers dying from what appears to have been a combination of malaria[5] and dysentery. These soldiers and the base commander Lt. Col. Strong, who died of an unrelated illness, were buried in the cantonment cemetery, the location of which is now unknown.

The majority of the troops moved to the mouth of the Tennessee River following Colonel Strong’s death with Major Jonathon Williams, a grand-nephew of Benjamin Franklin and the later founder of West Point and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, left in charge of approximately 70 soldiers including those sick who could not be moved. The 2nd Infantry troops at the mouth of the Tennessee River returned to the cantonment in the fall of 1801, raising the garrison strength to approximately 800 men.

Final abandonment of the cantonment appears to have occurred in April, 1802, following the election of Thomas Jefferson and his subsequent reduction in size of the U.S. Army. Following the departure of the last of the soldiers.

The abandoned structures later became the small community of Wilkinsonville. Approximately 200 Cherokee occupied the abandoned cantonment buildings for several years.

These buildings appear to have gradually collapsed or been destroyed for their wood although scattered accounts exist that indicate the Cherokee burned the buildings. The last known account of still-standing structures at the abandoned cantonment dates to 1817. After that, the abandoned cantonment became the site of a small settlement named Wilkinsonville consisting of no more than a few buildings that appeared on maps throughout the early nineteenth century.

The marker is located just south of New Grand Chain,
on the east side of IL Route 37.

On the Ohio River three miles south of here Cantonment Wilkinson-Ville, named for Gen. James Wilkinson, was established by Lt. Col. David Strong in 1797 as a post of the United States Army. It was garrisoned until 1804. Here are buried Colonel Strong and scores of soldiers who died on duty. Erected by the State of Illinois, 1935.

Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.

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FOOTNOTES
[1] The The Complete Three Volume Set: "Memoirs of My Own Times" written by General James Wilkinson, published in 1816; in my Digital Research Library of Illinois History® 

[2] In April 1787, Wilkinson made a highly controversial trip to New Orleans, which was the capital of Spanish colonial Louisiana. At that time, Americans were allowed to trade on the Mississippi River, but they had to pay a hefty tariff. Wilkinson met with Spanish Governor Esteban Rodríguez Miró and managed to convince him to allow Kentucky to have a trading monopoly on the River; in return he promised to promote Spanish interests in the west.

On August 22, 1787, Wilkinson signed an expatriation declaration and swore allegiance to the King of Spain to satisfy his own commercial needs. The "Spanish Conspiracy," as it is known, was initiated by Wilkinson's "First Memorial," a 7,500-word report written before he left New Orleans for Charleston, to the Spanish concerning the "political future of western settlers," and to convince Spain to "admit us [Kentuckians] under protection as vassals (a person or country in a subordinate position to another.)." This was encoded with myriad symbols, numbers, and letters that was decoded via a complex English-Spanish cipher code-named "Number 13," which became the basis for his pseudonym, "Agent № 13."

Upon returning to Kentucky in February 1788, Wilkinson vigorously opposed the new U.S. Constitution. Kentucky had nearly achieved statehood under the old Articles of Confederation, and there was widespread disappointment when this was delayed because of the new constitution.

When the United States government reorganized the Army as the Legion of the United States, President George Washington was faced with the decision of whom to name as its commanding general. The two major candidates for this promotion were James Wilkinson and Anthony Wayne. In the end, the cabinet chose Wayne due to Wilkinson's suspected involvement with the Spanish government. The cabinet promoted Wilkinson to brigadier general as consolation, since President Washington was aware of Wilkinson's fragile ego.

Wilkinson developed a jealousy of Wayne, but he maintained an ostensible (stated or appearing to be true, but not necessarily so) respect toward the general. However, when Wayne wasn't invited to Wilkinson's Christmas party, Wayne developed a full-fledged hatred for Wilkinson, deeming it to be an act of disrespect.

Wilkinson proceeded to file formal complaints with President Washington, against Wayne and his decisions. Upon finding out about the complaints against him, Wayne decided to fight back, launching an investigation into Wilkinson's history with the Spanish. During all of this time, Wilkinson had renewed his secret alliance with the Spanish government (through the Governor of Louisiana Francisco Luis Héctor de Carondelet), alerting them to the actions of both the U.S. and the French occupancy in North America. When Spanish couriers were intercepted carrying payments for Wilkinson, Wayne's suspicions were confirmed and he attempted to court martial Wilkinson for his treachery. However, Wayne developed a stomach ulcer and died on December 15, 1796.

[3] Some historical references seem to confuse Fort Massac and Cantonment Wilkinson. Fort Massac is a state park in the west edge of Metropolis, also along the Ohio River. The two are separated by about 15 miles.

[4] Under this plan Fort Massac was to be taken by the Spanish and mounted with twenty guns. The plotters were also to have a sum of $100,000 for raising and maintaining forces there. 

[5] Malaria was a common disease in Chicagoland and southern Illinois in pioneer days, wherever swamps, ponds, and wet bottom lands allowed mosquitoes to thrive; the illness was called ague, or bilious fever when liver function became impaired; medical historians believe that the disease came from Europe with early explorers around 1500; early travel accounts and letters from the Midwest reports of the ague (a fever or shivering fit), such as those of Jerry Church and Roland Tinkham, the details of which are extracted from their writings:

From the Journal of Jerry Church, when he had "A Touch of the Ague" in 1830: ...and the next place we came to of any importance, was the River Raisin, in the state of Michigan. There we met with a number of gentlemen from different parts of the world, speculators in land and town lots and cities, all made out on paper, and prices set at one and two hundred dollars per lot, right in the woods, and musquitoes and gallinippers thick enough to darken the sun. I recollect the first time I slept at the hotel, I told the landlord the next morning I could not stay in that room again, unless he could furnish a boy to fight the flies, for I was tired out myself; and not only that, but I had lost at least half a pint of blood. The landlord said that he would remove the musquitoes the next night with smoke. He did so, and after that I was not troubled so much with them. We stayed there a few days, but they held the property so high that we did not purchase any. The River Raisin is a small stream of water, something similar to what the Yankees would call a brook. I was very much disappointed in the appearance of the country when I arrived there, for I anticipated finding something great, and did not know but that I might on the River Raisin find the article growing on trees! But it was all a mistake, for it was rather a poor section of country. ...We then passed on to Chicago, and there I left my fair lady-traveler and her brother, and steered my course for Ottawa, in the county of Lasalle, Illinois. Arrived there, I put up at the widow Pembrook`s, near the town, and intended to make her house my home for some time. I kept trading round in the neighborhood for some time, and at last was taken with a violent chill and fever, and had to take my bed at the widow`s, send for a doctor, and commence taking medicine; but it all did not do me much good. I kept getting weaker every day, and after I had eat up all the doctor-stuff the old doctor had, pretty much, he told me that it was a very stubborn case, and he did not know as he could remove it, and thought it best to have counsel. So I sent for another doctor, and they both attended me for some time. I still kept getting worse, and became so delirious as not to know anything for fifteen hours. I at last came to and felt relieved. After that I began to feel better, and concluded that I would not take any more medicine of any kind, and I told my landlady what I had resolved. She said that I would surely die if I did not follow the directions of the doctor. I told her that I could not help it; that all they would have to do was to bury me, for my mind was made up. In a few days I began to gain strength, and in a short time I got so that I could walk about. I then concluded that the quicker I could get out of those "diggins" the better it would be for me. So I told my landlady that my intention was to take my horse and wagon and try to get to St. Louis; for I did not think that I could live long in that country, and concluded I must go further south. I accordingly had my trunk re-packed, and made a move. I did not travel far in a day, but at last arrived at St. Louis, very feeble and weak, and did not care much how the world went at that time. However, I thought I had better try and live as long as there was any chance. 

From a letter by Roland Tinkham, relative of Gurdon. S. Hubbard, describing his observations of malaria during a trip to Chicago in the summer of 1831: ...the fact cannot be controverted that on the streams and wet places the water and air are unwholesome, and the people are sickly. In the villages and thickly settled places, it is not so bad, but it is a fact that in the country which we traveled the last 200 miles, more than one half the people are sick; this I know for I have seen it. We called at almost every house, as they are not very near together, but still there is no doubt that this is an uncommonly sickly season. The sickness is not often fatal; ague and fever, chill and fever, as they term it, and in some cases bilious fever are the prevailing diseases.