With this personal description of Black Hawk, it may be well to add the following, published in the “Annals of Iowa,” 3rd series, Vol. 4, page 195: “Bones of Black Hawk.–These bones, which were stolen from the grave about a year since, have been recovered and are now in the Governor’s office. The wampum, hat,[4] etc., which were buried with the old chief, have been returned with the bones. It appears that they were taken to St. Louis and there cleaned; they were then sent to Quincy to a dentist to be put up and wired previous to being sent to the East. The dentist was cautioned not to deliver them to anyone until a requisition should be made by Governor Lucas. Governor Lucas made the necessary requisition and they were sent up a few days since by the Mayor of Quincy and are now in the possession of the Governor. He has sent word to Na-she-as-kuk, Black Hawk’s son, or to the family, and some of them will probably call for them in a few days. Mr. Edgerton, the phrenologist, has taken an exact drawing of the skull, which looks very natural, and has also engraved it on a reduced scale, which will shortly appear on his new chart. Destructiveness, combativeness, firmness and philoprogenitiveness are, phrenologically speaking, very strongly developed. Burlington Hawk Eye, Dec. 10, 1840.”[3] An intimate knowledge of Black Hawk is denied us. The little known of him prior to 1832 is derived from less than a dozen sources, the most important being his autobiography;[5] the others, nearly all military, are to be found in treaties and the records of the war department. A few settlers only knew him, because settlers about his haunts in those days were exceedingly scarce. And so it has come to pass that his character has been universally judged by the contact with him during the last five or six years of his long life, while he was in a sense a captive, brooding over his fallen estate, while the drapery of an eternal evening was fast falling about him. At such an age, shorn of power, chafing under restrictions, disgruntled at the supremacy of his ancient enemy Keokuk, who had answered for his good behavior, the old man’s ambitions crushed, he was naturally a distressing object, evoking that pity which so universally appeals to an American and is so surely allowed to cover a multitude of sins. Those few last years have been thus carelessly permitted to become the monument to the man, and those who drove him from power have been harshly judged or jocularly denominated “carpet soldiers,” as much as to say the pioneers had never suffered hardships nor endured wrongs. Justice to those whose wives and children had been butchered, whose fathers and brothers had been burned at the stake, demands that all the truth be told and the reason given why those settlers, infuriated at the loss of two successive crops from Black Hawk’s perfidy, finally drove his band into the Mississippi River at the mouth of the Bad Axe and almost annihilated it.