Wood River Massacre
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The most shocking and cruel atrocity committed within the bounds
of Madison County was the Wood River Massacre, on July 10, 1814,
that resulted in the death of one pregnant woman and six children. This
tragedy took place in the forks of the Wood River, east of Upper
Alton. The victims were the wife and two children of Reason Reagan,
two children of Abel Moore, and two children of William Moore.
At the beginning of the War of 1812-14, citizens of Madison County
who lived at exposed locations on the frontier sought refuge in the
forts and blockhouses. When no Native Americans made their
appearance, and the Rangers were constantly on the alert, people
began to feel secure. In the summer of 1814, they returned to their
farms and dwellings. There were six or eight families residing at
that time in the forks of the Wood River. At the residence of George
Moore on the east branch of the Wood River, a blockhouse had been
built to which the people could flee should danger arrive.
July
10, 1814, began as a pleasant Sunday. William Moore was on duty at
Fort Butler near St. Jacob; his brother, Abel Moore had gone to Fort Russell near
Edwardsville for the day; and Reason Reagan had gone three miles
away to the Wood River Baptist Church on Vaughn Hill in Wood River
Township. Rachel Reagan and her two children spent the day with her
sister, Mrs. William Moore. Also at the Moore home was Miss Hannah
Bates, sister of Abel Moore’s wife, Mary Bates Moore. The time was spent peacefully
while the women talked and the children played games. Later in the
afternoon they all went to the Abel Moore home, located near where
the Alton State Hospital was later constructed on Rt. 140. As
preparation began for the evening meal, Rachel Reagan, who was in
advanced stage of pregnancy, decided she would go back home and pick
some beans that would be added to the evening mean. Rachel’s two
children, two sons of William Moore, and two sons of Abel Moore
accompanied her. Hannah Bates went along, but for some reason
decided to turn back to the Moore house. Some say she had a
premonition. Others say her shoes did not fit well and hurt her
feet. Regardless, that decision saved her life.
Two days before, Reason Reagan and his brother-in-law, Samuel
Thomas, had gone to a deer lick [spot of ground where deer gather,
due to natural salt in the ground] about ten miles west of the
settlement [this would have placed the deer lick in Jersey County,
north of Lockhaven], and camped there for the night. It was later
ascertained that a company of eleven Indians had been three miles
distant [near Dow], and the next morning found the abandoned camp of
Thomas and Reagan. The Indians determined the group was a small one,
and decided to follow their tracks eastward.
The Indians may have reached the empty Reagan cabin first, but no
one was at home. They continued on the trail eastward, toward Abel
Moore’s home, as Rachel and the children approached from the east.
It was on this trail that Rachel and the children met their untimely
death. They were stripped of their clothing, bludgeoned with a
tomahawk, and scalped.
William Moore, having returned that day to look after the women and
children at home, became alarmed as night approached and the
children had not returned. He first went to his brother, Abel
Moore’s place, to see if they were there. His wife, who was Mrs.
Reagan’s sister, also started on horseback to look for them, taking
a different route from her husband. Mrs. Moore chose to go through
the woods, and William walked along the wagon path. Mrs. Moore found
the children lying by the road, and at first thought they had laid
down to sleep. It was nighttime, and there was little light to see
by. She called their names, but they did not answer. She dismounted
her horse, and discovered the lifeless bodies in the darkness. She
placed her hand on the shoulder of the naked corpse of Mrs. Reagan.
On further examination, she could feel the flesh from which the
scalp had been torn. Hearing a noise, she became alarmed. She
quickly mounted her horse and rode away, thinking she would be the
next victim. Once at home, she put a large kettle of water of the
fire, thinking she would defend herself with boiling water.
Unknown to Mrs. Moore, her husband, William, had also found the
bodies. He had returned to Abel Moore’s home, telling that someone
had been killed by Indians. He could not see in the dark who it was.
Thinking the Indians were having an uprising, he wanted to warn the
others and get them to safety. From Abel’s house he took Abel’s wife
and her remaining children, along with Hannah Bates, and they headed
to William Moore’s house, with the plan of going on to the
blockhouse at Fort Wood River, near George Moore's homestead, where
they would be safer. Approaching his home, he saw the horse which
his wife had ridden. “Thank God, Polly is not killed,” he said. His
wife came running out, exclaiming, “They are killed by the Indians,
I expect!” The whole party then departed for the blockhouse, and
waited for daybreak.
At dawn a search party went out to look retrieve the bodies of
Rachel and the six children. They were shocked to find Timothy
Reagan sitting near the body of his mother still alive, but barely.
Pathetically he said, “The black man raised his axe and cutted them
again.” Timothy was taken up and given all the help they could give.
He died later that day. Others gathered the bodies of the dead.
Solomon Preuitt assisted by hauling them on a small, one-horse sled
to the burying ground on Vaughn Hill, about four miles “as the crow
flies” from Abel Moore’s home. This burial ground was established by
the Wood River Baptist Church, where Reason Reagan was at the time
of the massacre. The graves were dug and lined with slabs split from
nearby trees, and the bodies were lowered in and covered with more
planks. The seven were buried in three graves: Mrs. Reagan and her
two children, Elizabeth and Timothy, in one grave; Captain Moore’s
children, William and Joel, in another; and William Moore’s two
children, John and George, in the third. A stone slab was placed on
their grave at a later day, when peace had returned to the
settlement. Also buried in the Vaughn Hill Cemetery is an Indian girl who was
captured by Abraham Preuitt during one of the campaigns in the War
of 1812. Preuitt, pursuing Indians into the Winnebago Swamps, heard
firing in the distance and went to investigate. He found Davis
Carter and another man firing at a little Native American child, six years
old, who was mired and could not get out. He called the man cowards,
and ordered them to cease firing at a helpless child. Preuitt went
into the swamp and rescued the child, and brought it home with him.
She lived to the age of fifteen. It was stated that she was always
of a wild nature.
A young man by the name of John Harris, living at Able Moore’s home,
set off on horseback bearing the alarming news of the massacre to
Fort Russell. Leaving the Fort about 1:00 a.m., seventy rangers
arrived at Abel Moore’s about sunrise, and proceeded to the scene of
the tragedy. News soon spread, and it was not long before Captain
Whiteside and nine others gave pursuit of the Native Americans.
Among them were James Pruett, Abraham Pruett, William and John
Sample, James Starkden, William Montgomery, and Peter Waggoner. When
the Natives learned they were being pursued, the frequently bled
themselves to facilitate their speed and give them greater
endurance. The weather was hot, and some of the rangers’ horses gave
out. Others kept going. On the evening of the second day, between
sunset and dark, they came within sight of the Natives at a stream
entering the Sangamon River, about 70 miles in Morgan County. This
site was later named Indian Creek to remember what took place there.
On the ridge was a lone cottonwood tree. Several Natives climbed the
tree and saw their pursuers. They separated and went in different
directions. James and Abraham Pruett, taking the trail of one of
them, overtook him and shot him in the thigh. He fell, but managed
to climb a tree. Abraham then shot again and killed him. In the
Native American’s pouch was the scalp of Mrs. Reagan. The remaining
Natives hid in the woods, near where Virden now stands, about 44
miles north of the scene of the murder. It was learned later that
only one Native escaped, and that was the Chief who led the party.
On September 11, 1910, over 1,000 spectators gathered on the John
Moore farm to witness the unveiling of the monument erected by the
grandchildren of Captain Abel Moore, in memory of the victims of the
Wood River Massacre. Frank Moore of Chicago (youngest son of Major
Franklin Moore and grandson of Captain Abel Moore) presided and gave
the opening address of welcome. The monument was unveiled by Harriet
Moore of Wichita Falls, Texas, during an address by Edith Culp, wife
of John S. Culp. Addresses followed by Hon. N. G. Flagg of Moro, and
Major E. K. Pruett of Fosterburg. The grandchildren of Captain Abel
Moore who erected the monument were: Dr. Isaac Moore of Alton; John
Moore of Wichita Falls, Texas; Frank Moore of Chicago; Irby, Joel
and Luella Williams; and Mrs. Edith Culp of Wood River Township;
Thomas Hamilton of Buffalo, Wyoming; Mrs. Mary J. Deck of Roodhouse;
Lewis Moore of Granite City; and Mrs. Mary Moore of Seattle,
Washington.The monument is located on Fosterburg Road, in front of
the Hilltop Auction and Banquet Center. The massacre took place 300
yards behind the monument, and about one mile from the Abel Moore
home.
On September 14, 1980, the Bushrod’s Raiders historical preservation
group erected a new monument on the former Abel Moore homestead,
across from the main entrance to Gordon F. Moore Park. It is near a
small plot containing the graves of Abel Moore and his wife, Mary.
The monument was made of limestone from a 100-year-old wall, taken
from St. Joseph Hospital property when a new addition was
constructed. The monument contains a granite plaque telling the
story of the massacre.
THE WOOD RIVER MASSACRE
Read before the Illinois State Lyceum, December 6, 1833
By Rev. Thomas Lippincott
Source: Alton Telegraph, April 4, 1873
Travelers who have passed on the direct road from Edwardsville to
Carrollton (which is north of Jerseyville) will remember at a
pleasant plantation on the banks of the east branch of the Wood
River, a short distance from the dwelling house and powder mill of
Mr. George Moore, an old building, composed of rough round logs, the
upper story of which projects about a foot on every side beyond the
basement [the east fork of the Wood River is located just east of
Stanley Road, near Cottage Hills). This, in times of peril, was a
blockhouse, or in the common phrase, a fort, to which the early
settlers resorted for safety. Pursuing the road about two miles to
an elevated point of the west fork (near Fosterburg Road), where the
road turns abruptly down into the creek, another farm, now in
possession of a younger member of the family of Moores [Major Frank
Moore property], exhibits the former residence of Reason Reagan, and
midway between these two points resides Captain Abel Moore, on the
same spot which he occupied at the period to which our narrative
relates. William Moore lived nearly south of Abel’s, on a road which
passes towards Milton. Upper Alton is from two to three miles, and
Lower Alton four or five miles distant from the scene of action.
It appears that while the gallant rangers were scouring the country,
ever on the alert, the inhabitants, who for several years had
huddled together in forts for fear of Indians, had, in the summer of
1814, attained to such a sense of security that they went to their
farms and dwellings, with the hope of escaping further depredations.
In the forks of the Wood River were some six or eight families,
whose men were for the most part in the ranging service, and whose
women and children were thus left to labor and defend themselves.
The blockhouse which I have described was their place of resort on
any alarm, but the inconvenience and difficulty of clustering so
thickly induced them to leave it as soon as prudence would at all
permit.
Nor had the hardy inhabitants forgotten amidst their dangers, the
duties of social life, nor their highest obligations to their
Creator. The Sabbath shone, not only upon the domestic circle, as
gathered around the fireside altar, but its hallowed light was shed
on groups collected in the rustic artifices which the piety of the
people had erected for divine worship.
It was on the Sabbath, July 10, 1814, that the painful occurrence
took place which I now record. Reagan had gone to attend divine
worship at the meeting house some two or three miles off, leaving
his wife and two children at the house of Abel Moore, which was on
his way. About four o’clock in the afternoon, Mrs. Reagan went over
to her own dwelling to procure some little articles of convenience,
being accompanied by six children, two of whom were her own; two
were children of Abel Moore; and two of William Moore. Not far from,
probably a little after the same time, two men of the neighborhood
passed separately, I believe, along the road, in the opposite
direction to that in which Mrs. Reagan went, and one of them heard
at a certain place a low call, as of a boy, which he did not answer,
and for a repetition of which he did not delay. But he remembered
and told it afterwards.
When it began to grow dark, the families became uneasy at the
protracted absence of their respective members, and William Moore
came to Abel’s, and not finding them there, passed on towards Mr.
Reagan’s to discover what had become of the sister-in-law and
children. Nearly about the same time, his wife went across the angle
directly toward the same place. Mr. Moore had not been long absent
from his brother’s, before he returned with the information that
someone was killed by the Indians. He had discerned the body of a
person lying on the ground, but whether man or woman, it was too
dark for him to see without a closer inspection than was deemed
safe. The habits of the Indians were too well known by these
settlers, to leave a man in Mr. Moore’s situation, free from the
apprehension of an ambuscade still near.
The first thought that occurred was to flee to the blockhouse. Mr.
Moore desired his brother’s family to go directly to the fort, while
he should pass by his own house and take his family with him. But
the night was now dark, and the heavy forest was at that time
scarcely opened here and there by a little farm, while the narrow
road wound through among the tall trees, from the farm of Abel Moore
to that of his brother, George Moore, where the fort was erected.
The women and children, therefore, chose to accompany William Moore,
though the distance was nearly doubled by the measure.
The feelings of the group as they groped their way through the dark
woods may be mor easily imagined than described. Sorrow for the
supposed loss of relatives and children was mingled with horror at
the manner of their death, fear for their own safety, and pain at
the dreadful idea that remains of their dearest friends lay mangled
on the cold ground near them, while they were denied the privilege
of seeing and preparing them for sepulture.
Silently they passed on till they came to the dwelling of William
Moore, and when they had approached the entrance, he exclaimed, as
if relieved from some dreadful apprehension, “Thank God, Polly is
not killed.” “How do you know?” they inquired. “Because here is the
horse she rode.” My informant then first learned that his
brother-in-law had feared, until that moment, that his wife was the
victim that he had discovered.
As they let down the bars, Mrs. William Moore came running out,
exclaiming, “They are killed by the Indians, I expect.” The mourning
friends went in for a short time, but hastily departed for the
blockhouse, whither by daybreak, all or nearly all the neighbors,
having been warned by signals, repaired to sympathize and tremble.
I have mentioned that Mrs. William Moore went, as well as her
husband, in search of her sister and children. Passing by different
routes, they did not meet on the way, nor at the place of death. She
jumped on a horse and hastily went in the nearest direction, and as
she went, carefully noted every discernable object, until at length,
she saw a human figure lying near a burning log. There was not
sufficient light for her to discern the size, sex, or condition of
the person, and she called the name of one and another of her
children, again and again, supposing it to be one of them asleep. At
length, she alighted, and approached to examine more closely. What
must have been her sensations on placing her hand upon the back of a
naked corpse, and feeling, by further scrutiny, the quivering flesh
from which the scalp had been torn! In the gloom of the night, she
could just discern something, seeming like a little child, sitting
so near the body as to lean its head, first one side, then the
other, on the insensible and mangled body. She saw no further, but
thrilled with horror and alarm, remounted her horse and hastened
home. When she arrived, she quickly put a large kettle of water over
the fire, intending to defend herself with scalding water, in case
of an attack.
There was little rest or refreshment, as may well be supposed, at
the fort that night. The women and children of the vicinity,
together with the few men who were at home, were crowded together,
not knowing but that a large body of the savage foe might be
prowling round, ready to pour a deadly fire upon them at any moment.
A neighbor and six children of the little settlement were probably
lying in the wood, within a mile or two, dead and mangled by that
dreadful enemy! About three o’clock, a messenger was dispatched to
Fort Russell with the tidings.
In the morning, the inhabitants undertook the painful task of
ascertaining the extent of their calamity, and collecting the
remains for burial. The whole party, Mrs. Reagan and the six
children, were found lying at intervals along the road, tomahawked,
scalped and dead, except the youngest of Mrs. Reagan’s children,
which was sitting near its mother’s corpse, alive, with a gash,
large and deep, on each side of its little face. It were idle to
speak of the emotions that filled the souls of the neighbors and
friends and fathers and mothers, the husband, who had gathered round
to behold this awful spectacle. There lay the mortal remains of six
of those whom but yesterday they had seen and embraced in health,
and there was one helpless little one, wounded and bleeding and
dying, an object of pain and solicitude, but scarcely of hope.
To women and youth, chiefly was committed the painful task of
depositing their dear remains in the tomb. This was done on the six
already dead, on that day. They were interred in three graves, which
were carefully dug so as to lay boards beneath, beside, and above
the bodies – for there could no coffins be provided in the absence
of nearly all the men – and the graves being filled, they were left
to receive in aftertimes, when peace had visited the settlement, a
simple covering of stone, bearing an inscription descriptive of
their death.
It was a solemn day, observed my informant, to follow several bodies
to the grave, at once, from so small a settlement, and they too,
buried under such painful circumstances. Could we have followed that
train to the cemetery where they were embowered, would we not feel
that the procession, the occasion, the ceremony, the emotions were
of a character too awful, too sacred to admit of minute observation
then – or accurate description now? The seventh, however, was not
then buried. The child found alive received every possible
attention. Medical aid was procured with great difficulty, but in
vain. It followed within a day or two at most.
On the arrival of the messenger at Fort Russell, a fresh express was
hastened to Captain (now General) Samuel Whiteside’s company, which
was on Ridge Prairie, some four miles east of Edwardsville. It was
about an hour after sunrise on Monday morning when the gallant troop
arrived on the spot – having rode some fifteen miles – ready to weep
with the bereaved, and to avenge them of their ruthless foes. Abel
Moore, who was one of the rangers then on duty, and of course absent
at the catastrophe, was permitted to remain at home to assist in
burying his children and relatives, and the company dashed on, eager
to overtake and engage in deadly conflict with the savages. I regret
that I have no recent account of the particulars of this interesting
pursuit, and that my memory does not hold them with sufficient
distinctness to warrant an attempt at the narration. At Indian
Creek, in what is now Morgan County, some three or four of the
Indians were seen, and one killed. It is a current report among the
rangers that not one of the ten that composed the party survived the
fatigue of the retreat before the eager troop.
WOOD RIVER MASSACRE
By Volney P. Richmond
Source: Alton Evening Telegraph, 1899
(After Consultation with Descendants of Moore Family)
“Since my earliest recollection I have heard and read of the Wood
River Massacre, and have often had the place pointed out to me where
it occurred, and my first acquaintance was with Captain Abel Moore
and his brother, and with several of Captain Moore’s children. Major
Frank Moore [son of Captain Abel Moore] cannot tell when he did not
know me. I used to often stop and hear pioneer stories from his
father. I knew, but was not intimately acquainted with, the others.
Some years ago, someone published an account of the Wood River
Massacre, and so far from correct, that I answered it and told what
I knew. By that paper the scene was laid near where the two railways
and wagon road bridges crosses Wood River at a place called Milton,
some two miles or more from where I knew it to have taken place. Not
long after I met Major Moore, and after thanking me for making the
correction, said that I was nearer to it than anyone who had written
before me, but that I was still somewhat off. I said to him I would
try again, and with his help and his sister’s, Mrs. Lydia Williams,
I though I could get a correct history. There has been nothing
heretofore written (not even my own) that is perfectly reliable, and
this being a part of the early history of Madison County, and an
Indian massacre of the War of 1812 to 1815 should be. Of course,
there is no one who could personally vouch for the truth, but the
children of Captain Abel Moore would be the nearest to the mark.
They have often heard the story from father and mother, and I, too,
have heard it from their father.
The Wood River Massacre of the township of Wood River, and county of
Madison, and State of Illinois, took place on July 10, 1814, in the
southeast quarter of section 5 of Wood River Township. The parties
massacred were Mrs. Rachel Reagan and her two children - Elizabeth
(Bessey), aged 7 years, and Timothey, aged 3 years; two children of
Captain Abel Moore’s – William, aged 10, and Joel, aged 8 years; and
two children of William Moore’s, John, aged 10, and George, aged 3
years. If this right??????????????? The party started from the house
of Reason Reagan to spend the day at William Moore’s, the farm now
owned by Mrs. William Badley. Returning in the afternoon by way of
Abel Moore’s farm, now owned by George Cartwright, two of whose
children, William and Joel, started home with them to get some green
beans. Miss Hannah Bates, Mrs. Abel Moore’s sister, visiting there,
also started with them to remain at Mrs. Reagan’s, but after going a
part way, suddenly changed her mind, as if warned by some
presentment, and against the earnest entreaties of Mrs. Reagan,
retraced her steps and hastened back home. From where she turned
back, she could not have been more than two or three hundred yards
from where the body of Mrs. Reagan was found. Mrs. Reagan and the
children were all tomahawked and scalped, and they remained on the
ground where they fell all night, the Indians having stripped them
of all their clothing.
William Moore, having returned that day from Fort Butler, near the
site of the village of St. Jacob, to look after the women and
children at home, became alarmed as night approached, the children
not returning, and went in search of them, going by Abel Moore’s.
Mrs. William Moore, who was a sister of Mrs. Reagan’s, also went on
horseback, going a different route from that her husband had taken.
Although they did not meet until after they had returned home, they
both found the lifeless bodies in the darkness lying by the wayside,
and each placed a hand upon the bare shoulder of Mrs. Reagen. Mr.
Moore returned by way of Abel Moore’s to notify them and prepare for
what might come to pass. At first, Mrs. William Moore thought the
children being tired, had fallen asleep and stooped to pick up the
youngest child, but as she did so, a crackle and a sudden flash of
light from a burning hickory tree nearby prevented her. Thinking it
was the Indians in ambush, she sprung upon her horse, and reached
home before her husband. Mrs. Reagan and her two children were
killed nearest to the place from where they started on their return.
The others were lying farther on, two at a place. One, the youngest
child, three years of age, was living when found. A message was sent
to Waterloo for the nearest physician, who dressed the wounds of the
little one, but it did not survive the operation.
A young man named John Harris, living at Abel Moore’s, was sent that
night on horseback to Fort Russell, located in the township of that
name, Captain Moore commanding, and to Fort butler, Captain
Whitesides commanding, to give the alarm. Leaving the latter place
about one o’clock the same night, about seventy of the rangers from
both forts, among whom were James and Solomon Preuitt, and arrived
at Moore’s fort on the farm owned by the late William Gill, now by a
German named Klopmeyer, about sunrise, and proceeded to the scene of
the tragedy. They were enabled to follow the track of the broken
limbs on the bushes, which the Indians did, as was supposed, to
tantalize the helpless women, thinking there were no men near enough
to pursue them, and further on by the way, they made through the
tall prairie grass, and also by blood. The Indians, when they
learned they were pursued, frequently bled themselves to facilitate
their speed and give them greater endurance. In hot pursuit, the
Rangers pressed upon the fleeing Red Men, overtaking them between
sunset and dark at a small stream near Sangamon River, about seventy
miles distant in Morgan County, named Indian Creek in honor of the
event. One was shot and killed in the top of a fallen tree. A bullet
from the rifle of James Preuitt stopped with him. The other nine
(there being ten in number) died from exhaustion, except one who
survived, and escaping reached camp, and afterward reported the
facts at the New Orleans Treaty, 1815. Dark overtaking the Rangers,
they camped at the creek and returned home the following morning.
The morning after the massacre, the relatives and friends prepared
to bury their dead, and this was no small undertaking. There was
nothing like any sawed lumber in the whole country. They had very
few tools, other than rakes and hoes. They decided to bury them
where a few of the first settlers had been buried sometime before,
and the first burying ground in this part of the county east from
their homes [Vaughn Hill Cemetery]. The only way to move them was by
oxen and rough-made sleds. The graves being dug, there was a vault
sunk at the bottom, the shape of a coffin and lines with slabs split
from the trees nearby, and as near as possible to the form of
planks, and the vaults lined with them and covered with the same.
They were buried in three graves – Mrs. Reagan and her children in
one; Captain Moore’s two children in another; and William Moore’s
two children in the third.
When I was first at this graveyard, there was a heavy growth of
timber, and an old church, built by setting posts in the ground and
siding up with rough-split boards, and covered with the same.
“Moore’s Settlement,” in the forks of the Wood River, was begun in
1804 by George, William, and Abel Moore, William Bates, Ransom
Reagan, Mr. Wright, Samuel Williams, Mr. Vickery, and some others
and their families. On George Moore’s farm was a fort, where the
residents used to assemble when there appeared to be danger from
Indian raids. At the time of the messacre, but one man remained at
the fort. That was George Moore, a gunsmith, who made and repaired
rifles for the Rangers and neighbors. Of these who took refuge in
the fort that night, there is probably but one now living – Mrs.
Nancy Hedden, a daughter of Captain Abel Moore. She resides at San
Diego, California, and was then about a year and a half old.
Such is the true history of the Wood River Massacre, 1814. I have
taken much time to trace out all necessary facts, and I believe the
foregoing to be perfectly true. I have been on the grounds and
passed in sight many times. I have been well acquainted with many of
the families all my days, and am interested in a true statement.
Signed, Volney P. Richmond.”
WOOD
RIVER MASSACRE MONUMENT
Source: Alton Evening Telegraph, Sept. 12, 1910
The dedication of the Wood River Massacre memorial monument on
Fosterburg Road, east of Upper Alton, on the afternoon of September
11, 1910, drew an immense crowd. It was a quiet, reverential crowd
that assembled, and notwithstanding the fact that the sun was
beaming down with its rays uninterfered with by any covering, an
immense crowd waited patiently for an hour after the starting time
for the program to begin. J. Nic Perrin of Belleville, a principal
speaker, failed to arrive on time, but one there, the program was
under way.
The monument, paid for by the grandchildren of Abel Moore, was
constructed by a Methodist preacher from Wichita Falls, Texas, who
was taking his vacation and came here to help raise money for his
church. He claimed to be an expert concrete worker, and he took the
job. The monument is 20 feet high, and has a 9-foot base. On one
face of the tower is the inscription:
“To the memory of the victims of the Wood River Massacre, July 10,
1814.
William and Joel, 10 and 8 years, sons of Captain Abel and Mary
Moore; John and George, 10 and 3 years, sons of William Moore;
Rachel Reagan, and Elizabeth and Timothy, 7 and 3 years. This
occurred about 300 yards in the rear of this monument. Dedicated
September 11, 1910, by the descendants of Captain Abel Moore.”
Frank E. Moore of Chicago, a newspaper man, served as chairman for
the program. A quartet consisting of Jay Dodge, Alan Atchison, Fidel
Deem, and Joel Williams, sang several numbers, opening with
“America.” Rev. T. N. Marsh offered the invocation, followed by the
opening remarks by Frank E. Moore. The quartet sang “The Sword of
Bunker Hill.” The unveiling recitation, given by Miss Edith Culp,
was a brief historical account of the incident that was being
commemorated, and at the close of her address, the string was pulled
by Miss Hazel Moore of Wichita Falls, Texas, and the monument was
unveiled. Miss Edith Culp then formally made the presentation of the
monument to the county, and it was accepted by John U. Uzzell. The
quartet then sang “Illinois.”
Norman G. Flagg gave a historical address, reciting the story of the
massacre of the Moore and Reagan children, and Mrs. Reagan by
Indians, and the subsequent attempts of the settlers to avenge their
deaths. Mr. Flagg made a good address that was instructive, and he
showed ability as a public speaker. J. Nic Perrin then gave a brief
historical talk on the troubles with the Indians in the early days.
E. K. Preuitt, one of the oldest of the old settlers, then made a
talk, recalling the early days. The program was closed with singing
of “Nearer by God to Thee.”
The wagon road was choked with buggies and automobiles for a long
distance in the neighborhood of the monument, and there were many
who went on foot to attend the dedication.