Note-book No. 1 of the Kickapoo Club

In Short

Note-book No. 1 of the Kickapoo Club is a rich compilation of field reports, catalog entries, local history, and personal travelogues compiled by an amateur archaeological society in central Illinois. Writing in the early 1910s, the contributors record their surface hunts, mound excavations, and regional excursions, cataloging everything from sacred conch shells to delicate flint arrowheads. The book endures as a vivid snapshot of early twentieth-century Midwestern antiquarianism, capturing both a genuine reverence for the region's ancient indigenous past and the urgent, unpolished enthusiasm of self-taught local historians trying to salvage history from the plow.

The Story

The book unfolds as a series of distinct reports from members of the Kickapoo Club, tracking their field excursions and archaeological discoveries across Illinois, with a brief side journey to the American Southwest. It opens with meticulous descriptive lists of artifacts recovered from various camp sites and hilltops in McLean and Menard counties. Members like Mark Piper and S. W. Le Neve document their finds, which include granite hatchets, flint drills, and stamped potsherds picked up in plowed fields and along river bluffs.

The central narrative focus shifts to a passionate advocacy piece by C. H. Robinson regarding the Great Cahokia Mound group near East St. Louis. Robinson detailing an April 1913 expedition to the site, provides precise measurements comparing Monk's Mound to the Great Pyramid of Cheops and the Aztec temples, highlighting its massive scale and historic significance. He details the historical presence of the Trappist monks who briefly lived on the mound in the early nineteenth century and left behind a pear orchard. Crucially, Robinson frames his account around a pressing legislative effort, urging the State of Illinois to acquire and protect the 204-acre Ramey farm before this pre-historic monument is lost to commercial development or decay.

The narrative then follows various members on smaller, localized field trips. Richard Thomas Robinson writes of exploring an aboriginal flint workshop on a farm in McLean County, where he and his father gathered hundreds of artifacts and interviewed George Washington Henry, an eighty-year-old local resident who recalled seeing Indians camped along the old Peoria trail during his childhood. Mark Piper details a rain-soaked expedition to Petersburg and Kingfisher Hill, describing the recovery of skeletons from high hilltops and the discovery of ancient camp debris along Cleary's Creek. Meanwhile, Stanley M. East records a trip to Spring Bay in Woodford County to investigate conical earthworks on local farmland.

Interspersed throughout the text are personal reflections, such as W. B. Brigham’s essay on his lifelong passion for artifact collecting, which began with a lost arrowhead given to him by his father. The volume broadens its scope through a travelogue by Edith M. and Herbert Cox describing a hundred-mile journey into the Hopi reservation in Arizona, detailing the agricultural practices, basketry, religious rites, and government schooling of the Southwestern tribe. The book concludes with a poignant, reflective poem titled "KATAHOTAN," which meditates on the vanished Kickapoo villages, lost leaders like Pemoatam and Masheena, and the transformed Illinois landscape where corn fields and cattle now replace ancient trails.

How It Unfolds

Field discoveries and Cahokia advocacy The volume begins with precise artifact catalogs from McLean and Menard counties, followed by C. H. Robinson's dramatic report on the April 1913 excursion to Cahokia. He details the vast dimensions of Monk's Mound and calls for state legislation to turn the privately owned site into a public preserve.

Excursions to local camp sites Members document trips to central Illinois farms, excavating workshops and ancient burials. Richard Thomas Robinson describes collecting flint chips and interviewing an elderly resident about pioneer-era Indian trails, while Mark Piper recounts a rainy trek to Petersburg where the team uncovers preserved skeletons and stamped pottery.

Reflections and distant journeys W. B. Brigham reflects on the personal obsession of relic hunting, detailing how surface finds reveal the craftsmanship of ancient toolmakers. The collection then pivots to Arizona, where Edith M. Cox describes a six-week visit to Hopiland, documenting Hopi architecture, daily labor, and traditional ceremonies like the Snake Dance.

Elegy for the Illinois prairies The book closes with an evocative poem dedicated to the Kickapoo Club. The verses trace the history of the Kickapoo tribe, their encounters with French traders and American settlers, and the melancholic reality that their ancestral lands in Illinois are now dominated by modern agriculture.

The People

• C. H. Robinson: An enthusiastic amateur archaeologist from Normal, Illinois, who acts as one of the lead advocates for site preservation. He wants the State of Illinois to purchase and protect the Cahokia Mound group from destruction, driven by a deep awe for ancient earthworks.
• Mark Piper: An active field researcher from Bloomington who frequently leads excursions to local farms and hilltops. He seeks physical artifacts and human remains to document ancient burial practices, often braving poor weather and tough terrain to uncover hidden sites.
• W. B. Brigham: Assistant County Superintendent of Schools whose interest in archaeology began in childhood. He approaches relic collecting with quiet reverence, fascinated by the technical skill of ancient stoneworkers, though he laments the accidental loss of early collections to fire.
• T. T. Ramey (and heirs): The late pioneer and 49er who bought the land housing the Cahokia Mounds. He and his family maintained the mounds intact for decades, standing between the historic earthworks and commercial exploitation while awaiting state preservation.
• Edith M. Cox: A traveler who journeys across the Arizona desert to visit a missionary on the Hopi reservation. She seeks to understand and record Hopi culture, returning with deep respect for their weaving, pottery, and endurance.

In Its Own Voice

"Cheops is but 746 feet square, the Aztec temple of Mexico is 680 feet square, while Monk's mound is 1080 feet by 780 feet and 104 feet high making about 84,000,000 cubic feet of earth." — C. H. Robinson describes the astounding physical scale of Monk's Mound during his 1913 survey.

"These sites disclose some very interesting facts and furnish much food for speculation. The great variety of 'finds' not only recalls many phases of the primitive life of the Indians but also shows that the 'ancient arrow-maker' possessed patience and skill of the highest degree." — W. B. Brigham reflects on the craftsmanship evident in local surface finds.

"For now the corn and grass grows rank / And now the white mens cattle come to drink / At spring and stream where once the buffalo / And deer and Indian pony slaked their thirst." — The closing poem meditates on the transformation of the Kickapoo homeland into modern farmland.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book explores the tension between rapid modern development and the preservation of human history. Written during an era of expanding agriculture and infrastructure in the American Midwest, the Kickapoo Club's records raise urgent questions about historical stewardship. The authors repeatedly grapple with the realization that the physical traces of prior civilizations—whether vast earthworks or fragile potsherds—are easily destroyed by the plow or private development if left unprotected. Underlying their field notes is a desire to measure, catalog, and preserve these sites before they disappear completely. The volume also examines the relationship between local memory and the landscape, questioning how a modern community should honor the ancient populations that inhabited the same soil centuries earlier.

Why Read It Today

This volume appeals to readers interested in local history, early American archaeology, and regional preservation efforts. Reading it feels like sitting down with a scrapbook compiled by dedicated amateur historians; the prose is straightforward, earnest, and completely free of modern academic jargon. What stays with the reader is the palpable sense of excitement in every discovery—whether it is a pink flint spearhead found in a cemetery or a intact conch shell from an ancient village site.

The book does present specific period challenges. The text retains the unpolished syntax, archaic terminology, and occasionally disjointed structure typical of self-published club notes from 1913. Additionally, the perspective is distinctly that of early twentieth-century white antiquarians, whose collection methods and attitudes toward indigenous burial sites reflect the uncritical norms of their era. Nevertheless, the club's genuine passion for saving Cahokia Mound offers an inspiring, historically significant look at the roots of American historic preservation.