Imagine Dixon with no buildings, no roads, no people … just trees and native grass. The river has no dam and no bridges … just a free-flowing wide stream with many little islands.

In 1830, John and Rebecca Dixon arrived, living in a cabin near today’s intersection of First Street and Peoria Avenue. They may have been the only “white settlers” in all of northwestern Illinois between Peoria and Galena. John operated a ferry, helping travelers cross the Rock River in an area inhabited by several Native American tribes.

For the next five years, very few others settled in the tiny Dixon village, having been deterred by the Black Hawk War of 1832. But in 1835, after the government started selling land for only $1.25 an acre, others began to arrive.

The physician’s examination

Oliver Everett, Dixon’s first physician, penned the best description of the village as it appeared to him on Sept. 3, 1836. Everett said that Dixon then had four log cabins, one blacksmith shop, one frame house and two or three houses under construction, all on the south side of the river.

The good doctor then described Dixon’s terrain, noted by its unique “slope,” i.e., the land’s gradual decline to the river’s edge. “This slope where the heart of the town now is, was covered by large spreading trees, while the ground beneath, perfectly clear of underbrush, presented a smooth, green surface.”

He added that the north side radiated equal splendor “with the ever beautiful river at its base and the opposite bank rising gradually in the distance.” He said the north side was also covered with trees, “presenting a clean, park-like appearance, with the bluffs crowned with lofty trees.”

These “bluffs” were likely the rocky perches seen in today’s hospital area on the south side and in today’s Page Park area on the north side. Dr. Everett noted that the north and south banks and bluffs, when viewed together with the greenery in “the islands dotting the river,” presented “a scene of beauty and loveliness.”

The gentle slope

Dixon’s gentle slope toward the river on both sides of the stream is rather unique among all of today’s river towns up and down the full 300-mile journey of the Rock River. The Dixon slope created two advantages. One was practical, the other was aesthetic.

The slope was ideal for the ferry. For travelers, horses, wagons and the stagecoach, the gradual approach to the river provided an easy descent to board the ferry and an easy ascent on the other side.

That slope also created spectacular views of a long stretch of the river, its banks, its islands, its bluffs, and the horizon in the distance. Views from either slope were like sitting in the sloping seating of a natural amphitheater with a glorious panorama set before you.

The poet’s inspiration

In the 1830s and 1840s, other early visitors lauded that magnificent view. For example, when the poet William Cullen Bryant visited Dixon in June 1841, he had the opportunity to view the river from a mansion built on a south side bluff.

“From the door of one of these dwellings,” he said, “I surveyed a prospect of exceeding beauty. The windings of the river allowed us a sight of its waters and its beautifully diversified banks to a great distance each way.”

The pastor’s testimony

In the 1840s, when the Rev. W. W. Harsha rode the bumpy stagecoach from Chicago to Dixon, he described the roadside scenery as “the garden spot of earth.” He said, “It seemed to us that nothing could excel the beauty of the region around what was then known as Dixon’s Ferry.”

But when the minister arrived and crested the final hill near today’s Dixon Arch, he said, “We attained a view of the valley and the crystal stream rolling through it.” He added: “Our involuntary exclamation was, ‘Surely nothing can excel this’.”

Harsha later became the first pastor of Dixon’s first Presbyterian church and the founder of the Dixon Collegiate Institute, which he built upon the bluff (by today’s hospital) in 1855.

He left Dixon in 1863. But when he died in 1900, he directed his body be brought back to Dixon to its final resting place at Oakwood Cemetery.

The deacon’s mistake

In 1838, after Joseph T. Little of Maine received reports of the beauty of “the Rock River country,” he opted to leave it all behind and head west. After first arriving in Oregon, Little made the final leg of the journey in a stagecoach, entering Dixon from the Grand Detour road.

Little later recalled that he would “never forget the beautiful vision of his first glimpse of Dixon.” His first impression was, “There never was a prettier place for a town, and within two years it will be almost a paradise.”

As his stagecoach entered into town, Deacon Little, a staunch Baptist, was also encouraged to see what appeared to be a church steeple along the riverbank. But upon closer examination, he realized that it was the chimney of a whiskey distillery.

Nonetheless, the devout deacon claimed Dixon as his beloved home for 64 years. Upon his death in 1902, the newspaper lauded his reputation as a respected Christian and prominent Dixon merchant. Like Everett and Harsha, he, too, chose to be buried at Oakwood.

The crowning achievement

The river has flowed through Dixon for almost 200 years since John Dixon’s ferry first connected its banks. At times, the natural progress of industry and commerce has threatened Dixon’s scenic assets.

But in the past 100 years, the city fathers have made great strides in preserving the city’s unique natural amphitheater. Visitors can now enjoy breathtaking, priceless views on the south side all along River Road and the entire Heritage Crossing at the Riverfront, and on the north side all along Page Drive, Lincoln Statue Drive, Page Park, Presidents Park and Howell Park.

In 2026, to top it off, the exquisite new pedestrian bridge and paths are the crowning achievement that celebrates and preserves Dixon’s historic and blissful marriage with the river.

Surely, John Dixon, Oliver Everett, W. W. Harsha, and J. T. Little are smiling.

• Dixon native Tom Wadsworth is a writer, speaker and occasional historian. He holds a Ph.D. in New Testament.