CHAPTER 1
A STRANGER ARRIVES IN NEW SALEM
Walking along the time-worn path, at length I came to the primitive cabins that were remnants of a pioneer settlement. They represented a long-ago place, perhaps almost 200 years old.
Standing among these ruins I wondered, what sort of people lived here? I had a strange sensation in that haunting moment. A stirring of ghosts of those who lived in those times rose up around me. Who were they? I could shut my eyes and almost see them in my mind’s eye.
Author’s Note: New Salem, April 2016
… Almost 200 years ago, the land in this very spot was part of the rugged Illinois frontier. It was a wilderness, an almost impenetrable place where only the most courageous of individuals dared to live.
Eastward, a winding river worked its way through the wilderness. Twisting and turning, it was called the Sangamon River. Full of many surprises, it was deceivingly treacherous.
It was the early morning of April 19th, 1831 when onlookers high up on the bluff first caught sight of the flatboat coming around the bend of the river. It could easily be seen from a distance because it was nearly 80 feet long and 18 feet wide.
Knowing the river, many folks gathered on the bluff above sensed something out of the ordinary was about to happen. It did. Coming around the bend just below New Salem, the sudden force of the currents carried the flatboat far out onto a rock dam where it got hung up. Teetering there, water began to fill rapidly into the low end of the boat. Becoming in danger of sinking, the crew immediately began to unload the boat. Among them, a tall boney stranger quickly took command. Appearing to know exactly what he was doing, he borrowed an auger from a local merchant in order to bore a hole in the bottom of the boat.
Throughout this event, a sizable group of spectators from among the tow
