By the year 1760, the French and Indian War had narrowed its area and was confined chiefly to Canada. This was then a period of development in and about Philadelphia.
The Germantown Academy was organized January 1, 1760, and four cornerstones were laid with appropriate ceremonies, April 21, 1760.
This ancient and honorable institution was originated in a meeting held December 6, 1759, at the house of Daniel Mackinet, when it was resolved to start a subscription for erecting a large and commodious building near the center of the town for the use of an English and High Dutch School, with suitable dwelling houses for the teachers. Christopher Meng, Christopher Sower, Baltus Reser, Daniel Machinet, John Jones, and Charles Bensell were appointed to solicit and receive subscriptions.
At the organization meeting held by the contributors, January 1, 1760, Richard Johnson was appointed treasurer, and Christopher Sower, Thomas Rosse, John Jones, Daniel Mackinet, Jacob Rizer, John Bowman, Thomas Livezey, David Dreshler, George Absentz, Joseph Galloway, Charles Bensell, Jacob Naglee and Benjamin Engle were chosen trustees.
The trustees purchased a lot from George Bringhurst in Bensell’s Lane, subsequently called Schoolhouse Lane. The institution was named Germantown Union High School House.
It was also decided that the school should be free to persons of all religious denominations.
The buildings were completed by the following year, when the school was opened in September.
The schoolhouse was eighty feet long and forty feet wide, two stories high, and six schoolrooms, and wings supplying two dwelling houses for the use of the masters.
The Academy is a long-fronted building of rough gray stone topped by a quaint little belfry tower, and with small stone houses on either side, which balance the pleasing effect. There is a worn stone sill, which doubtless is the same upon which Washington stepped when he visited the institution.
Hilarius Becker made his appearance as the German teacher, with seventy pupils, and David James Dove as the English teacher, with sixty-one pupils and Thomas Pratt was the English usher.
Although the mass of people used the German language, these numbers show that those of the English-speaking tongue were rapidly creeping on them.
David James Dove was one of the most famous characters in old Philadelphia. He had formerly taught grammar sixteen years at Chichester, England. He was an excellent master and his scholars made surprising progress. He was the first English teacher in Franklin’s Academy, and then conducted a school of his own in Vidells Alley before he became the first English teacher in the new academy at Germantown.
He became rather overbearing and also divided too much of his time with private scholars, and in 1763 the trustees tried to remove him, but he refused to be removed, even though Pelatiah Webster had already been appointed as his successor. Dove held possession of the schoolhouse and declared he would not retire. Finally Joseph Galloway and Thomas Wharton were charged with the duty of dealing with Dove.
Of course, Dove made way after a time for his successor, but for many years he continued to teach a private school in Germantown.
Dove’s method of reclaiming truants was to send a committee of five or six boys in search of them with a lighted lantern and a bell and in an odd equipage in broad daylight. The bell was always tinkling as they went about the town, and soon they would bring the culprits back filled with shame.
The progress of the academy was most satisfactory, for in 1764 Greek, Latin and the higher mathematics were taught. In the early seventies additional ground in the rear of the lot was obtained.
The rudiments of good manners were taught along with those of learning, but it was expressly enjoined that youths of Quaker parentage should not be required to take off their hats in saluting the teachers.
In March, 1761, a lottery scheme was put forth to raise £1125 for the use of this school. Another lottery the same year was for the Germantown Public School. The academy lottery consisted of 6667 tickets at $3 to raise $3000.
As the Revolution approached, and, at last, swept over them, the school experienced troubled times; it was difficult even to get a quorum of the trustees.
In July, 1777, a new teacher was appointed because Thomas Dungan, the master of the English school, had joined the American army.
After the Battle of Germantown the academy was used by the British as a hospital. Some twenty feet to the east of the back part of the grounds six British soldiers, who died of their wounds, were buried in what was Dreshler’s lot.
After the war the revival was slow. In 1784 a charter was obtained incorporating it as the “Public School at Germantown,” which was amended in 1786. The school was poor, the State could not furnish much assistance and contributions were solicited. These and the increase in the enrollment kept the Academy forging ahead. In 1808 another lottery was held which yielded about $500, but John Bowman, the treasurer, refused to receive the money.
In the yellow fever epidemic of 1793 the Legislature of Pennsylvania and the Congress of the United States made proposals for an occupation. It was given to Congress, on the rather easy terms of the restoration of “104 panes of glass, two window shutters, two door linings, three door locks, the steps front and back both of new wood, the hearths to be laid with new bricks, sundry patchings and white washing for which repairs and no others, the sum of $60 will be allowed out of the rent, which is to be $300 for one session.”
In the yellow fever of 1798 the use of the lower floor and cellar was granted to the Banks of North America and Pennsylvania, they agreeing as compensation to paint the building and to renew its roof.
The centennial anniversary of the laying of the cornerstone was celebrated with great enthusiasm April 21, 1860, by ringing the bell, parade, 100 guns, and in the evening an address by John S. Littell and an oration by Sidney George Foster.
These are only incidents in the career of more than 160 years, and the Academy has long been one of the most celebrated in the country.
Travelers up and down both branches of the Susquehanna River years ago will well remember the leaning tower high up on Blue Hill, opposite Northumberland. This peculiar building hung over a precipice and viewed from the river level, looked as if a breath of air would topple it to the rocks below. It was built by John Mason, who owned a farm of ninety acres of land on the hill, and who, from his eccentricities, came to be known as the “Hermit of Blue Hill.”
The tower, which was built as an observatory, was about sixteen by eighteen feet, two stories in height and of octagonal shape. It leaned at an angle of about twenty-two degrees and for safety was clamped to the rock upon which it was built with strong iron rods. The roof was flat, and there was a railing around it for protection of those who had courage to go upon it and look down the frightful precipice.
The view from the roof of “John Mason’s Leaning Tower,” as it was called, was one of superlative grandeur. Both the North and West Branches of the Susquehanna, as well as the main stream below their confluence, the majestic hills and pretty towns of Northumberland and Sunbury could all be taken in one panoramic view. Blue Hill at this point is 301 feet in height, as determined by the engineers who laid out the railroad in after years.
The leaning tower was built very near the spot one now sees, in seeking the profile of old “Shikellamy,” which would be located about where the top of the forehead would be seen. The tower was almost destroyed by visitors who cut their initials upon everything of wood, until it was entirely covered by these characters.
John Mason built this odd-looking house in 1839. William Henry did the carpenter work. It stood there until the spring of 1864—a period of twenty-five years—when, on a Sunday afternoon, April 22, it was destroyed by a party of railroad men in a spirit of deviltry. They loosened its moorings and the curious tower rolled down the rocky precipice with a tremendous crash and landed on a raft of logs passing down stream.
Its destruction removed one of the oddest, as well as one of the most conspicuous, landmarks along the Susquehanna River.
There are several stories related of John Mason’s eccentricities and the motives which induced him to erect this leaning tower.
About the time the vandals destroyed the tower a most interesting novel was written entitled “Eros and Antiros,” which story was woven about this scene and its unusual builder. In fact, John Mason was the hero of the story. The author, being a personal acquaintance, may have written from a knowledge of the facts.
In the story John Mason had been disappointed in a love affair and sought this manner to remove himself from the busier world and to live and die in seclusion.
Another version of the eccentric John Mason’s leaning tower is that it was his eyrie, where he gathered together a rare collection of queer old English books—they sold at 75 cents the bushel-basketful at his sale—and here he slung his hammock and here he read his books.
That story says John Mason’s father was a Quaker, living in Philadelphia, an old acquaintance of James Jenkins, Jr., at Turtle Creek, opposite the town of Northumberland, at the base of Blue Hill, who said to him one day, speaking of his son John, that he was a restless fellow and wanted to go to sea, and that it would be the death of his mother. “Can’t thee take him out with thee?” Jenkins replied that it was a wild place and not likely to suit the taste of one who wanted to go sea-faring.
But John Mason did go up into the wilderness, engaged in the mercantile business for a time at Northumberland, then moved his stock of merchandise to the western side of the river and opened a store at Turtle Creek.
John Mason never recognized or became intimate with women. One evening at the Jenkins home, Mason came in as was his custom from the store, about 9 o’clock, and seated himself by the ample fireplace to read a book. There was a number of young people in the room, who were playing pawns and forfeits. One pretty girl was condemned in a whisper, to kiss John Mason. He was apparently paying no attention to the others, but, as she slyly approached within reaching distance, he raised the tongs between them, saying, “Not one step nearer.”
Jenkins and he went alternately to Philadelphia to buy goods. Mason always walked there and back. He lived to an extreme age and was buried on his hill-top.
So much for that story. It is generally accepted that John Mason was of English origin, born in Philadelphia, December 7, 1768, and died on the farm of Colonel Meens above the present city of Williamsport, April 25, 1849.
During his life at the Blue Hill home, it is told of him that he was a sterling athlete, and could skate to Harrisburg in half a day; that he often walked to Williamsport, always carrying an old umbrella. His eccentricities were much talked about in his day.
During the winter following his death his remains were removed by friends, on a sled and carried to the scene of his hermit life, and buried under the wide spreading branches of a chestnut tree a few yards in the rear of his leaning tower. A neat marble tombstone, properly inscribed, was erected to mark the place of his burial.
This grave has long since been so trampled upon by curious visitors, that it was entirely obliteratedobliterated many years ago. Relic hunters so defaced the stone that it was removed to a neighboring farm house for preservation. This is all that remains by which to remember John Mason, “The Hermit of Blue Hill,” the builder of the “Leaning Tower.”
James Buchanan, Pennsylvania’s only President of the United States, was born in a little settlement which bore the odd name of Stony Batter, near Mercersburg, Franklin County, Pa., April 23, 1791.
Among the Scotch-Irish, whose enterprise brought them to America, was James Buchanan, a native of Donegal, Ireland. He settled in Franklin County in 1783, where he set up a store, married Elizabeth Speer, daughter of a farmer of Adams County, a woman of remarkable native intellect, and distinguished for her good sense and rare literary taste.
Many a man has owed his success to his mother. James Buchanan said: “My mother was a remarkable woman. The daughter of a country farmer, engaged in household employment from early life until after my father’s death, she yet found time to read much and to reflect on it. What she read once she remembered forever. For her sons she was a delightful and instructive companion. I attribute any distinction which I may have gained to the blessing which God conferred upon me in granting me such a mother.”
After he was grown a man, James might often be found sitting in the kitchen to talk with his mother while she worked.
In 1798 James Buchanan, the elder, removed to Mercersburg, where his son received his academical education and made such progress that his parents determined to give him the benefit of a collegiate course.
He entered Dickinson College at Carlisle at the age of fourteen. Here he found that many of the students did very much as they pleased. “To be a sober, industrious, plodding youth,” said Buchanan afterwards, “was to incur the ridicule of the mass of students.” He imitated the majority and soon learned that he was not longer desired as a student. Knowing his father would not help him out of his plight, he turned to the pastor of his church, and by his aid James received another chance and made good use of it. He graduated in June, 1809.
In December, following, he commenced to study law with James Hopkins, of Lancaster. He applied himself, “determined” said he, “that if severe application would make me a good lawyer, I should not fail. I studied law and nothing but law.” He was admitted to practice November 17, 1812, and at once took the first rank in his profession. So successful was he, that when but forty years old he had acquired means that enabled him to retire from the profession.
When the British burned the Capitol at Washington and threatened Baltimore, James Buchanan displayed his patriotism by enlisting as a private in the company commanded by Captain Henry Shipman, which marched from Lancaster to the defense of Baltimore and with which he served until honorably discharged.
In October, 1814, he was selected a representative in the Legislature, and re-elected. His intention, however, was to return to the practice of law and stay out of political office. A sad event changed the current of Buchanan’s life.
A young woman, to whom Buchanan was engaged in early manhood, a daughter of the wealthiest family in the county, wrote him a letter of dismissal under the spell of jealousy which had been aroused by gossips. Pride on both sides kept the two apart until their separation was made irrevocable by her sudden death. In grief and horror, the young lover wrote to the father of the dead girl, begging the privilege of looking upon her remains and of following them to the grave. But the letter was returned to him unopened.
Four and forty years passed, and Buchanan went to his grave without ever having taken any other woman to his heart.
To help him forget his grief, Buchanan accepted the nomination for Congress. He did not expect to win but did, and his career thenceforward became political. He served five terms and at the end of his service the Democrats of Pennsylvania brought forward his name for the vice presidency. Then President Jackson appointed him Minister to Russia. In this position he concluded the first commercial treaty between the United States and Russia, securing to our seamen important privileges in the Baltic and Black Seas.
In 1833, on his return to the United States, he was elected United States Senator, taking his seat December 15, 1834.
President Van Buren offered Buchanan the place of Attorney General, but it was declined. When Polk became President, the post of Secretary of State was offered and accepted. The most pressing question Buchanan had before him was the northern boundary of the Oregon Territory. Buchanan closed this transaction with Great Britain in 1846, and completed our boundary line to the Pacific.
At the close of Polk’s Administration, Buchanan retired to private life at his country home, called Wheatland, just outside of Lancaster. A niece and nephew were taken into his home and raised as his own children.
When Pierce became President, on March 4, 1853, Buchanan was sent as United States Minister to England. On his return from this mission he was nominated and elected to the presidency, and inaugurated March 4, 1857.
Buchanan clung to the idea that freedom rather than slavery was to blame for all the trouble. He believed that since this Government had permitted slavery when the Union was formed, the Nation had no right to interfere with it in States already in the Union.
When South Carolina seceded he was within ten weeks of the end of his term, with a hostile Congress in front of him and behind him a country as resolute as himself.
Buchanan lived quietly at Wheatland and saw the Rebellion begin and triumphantly end.
Whatever the writers of history may say concerning the wisdom of Buchanan’s political ideas, no one can deny the honesty of his character. No President could have been more careful to set a good example to others. He considered that his time belonged to the Nation. When presented with gifts of any value, he at once returned them to the sender.
In his travels he paid his own fare, and never used a pass even when out of office. “When I cannot afford to pay my way,” he declared, “I will stay at home.”
His niece, Harriet Lane, while “Mistress of the White House,” took a trip to West Point on a Government vessel which had been named after her. Her uncle wrote to her that national vessels should not be employed on pleasure excursions, and that he would put a stop to the practice.
James Buchanan died at Wheatland, June 1, 1868.
At 5 o’clock in the afternoon of Tuesday, April 24, 1775, an express rider came galloping into Philadelphia from Trenton, with the greatest possible haste, excitement in his looks and on his lips. The rider hurried up to the City Tavern, where the people crowded in eagerness to learn of his mission. Members of the Committee of Correspondence were in the crowd and to these the rider delivered his dispatch. It was a brief and hurried message, but it had come a long route and it was big with the fate of a nation.
It was a dispatch from Watertown, dated April 19, announcing that General Gage’s men had marched out of Boston the night before, crossed to Cambridge, fired on and killed the militia at Lexington, destroyed a store at Concord, were now on the retreat and hotly pursued. Many were killed on both sides and the country was rising.
The message had come by way of Worchester, where it was vised by the town clerk. It then went to Brookline, Thursday, 20th, and was forwarded at 4 o’clock in the afternoon from Norwich; at 7 that evening it was expressed from New London.
The committee at Lynn received, copied and started the rider with it at 1 o’clock Friday morning. It came to Saybrook before sun-up. At breakfast time another messenger took it up to Killingworth. At 8 o’clock it was at East Guilford; at 10 in Guilford, and at noon in Brandford. It was sent from New Haven with further details on Saturday, and dispatched from the New York committee rooms 4 o’clock Sunday afternoon. It reached New Brunswick at 2 o’clock Monday morning, Princeton at 6 o’clock in the evening and Trenton at 9 o’clock Tuesday morning. It was indorsed: “Rec’d the above p. express and forwarded the same to the Committee of Philadelphia.”
Thus was the news of the actual opening battle of the Revolution carried by express riders from Watertown to Philadelphia, which had been selected as the seat of Government for the Thirteen Colonies.
Two days later another express came into Philadelphia bringing fuller particulars of “the Battle of Lexington,” as that memorable fight has since been called.
The news of Lexington arrived too late in the day to spread at once over the city. But next morning every man, woman and child knew it, and, borne by intense patriotic feeling the people assembled in public meeting, as if by common consent at the State House.
There were 8000 persons present, and all seemed to be actuated with but a single purpose. The Committee of Correspondence took charge of the meeting and its authority was recognized and accepted.
Only one resolution was proposed and adopted, to “associate together, to defend with arms their property, liberty and lives against all attempts to deprive them of it,” and then, with impatience and eagerness, to action. The time for words was passed. The time for organization, arming, drilling and marching had come.
The enrollment began at this meeting. The committee besought all who had arms to let them know, so that they might be purchased and secured. The associates availed themselves of their existing organization to turn themselves forthwith into military companies.
It was agreed that two troops of light horse, two companies of riflemen and two companies of artillery, with brass and iron field pieces, should be formed immediately.
Drilling was started at once, and the progress was so marked that the companies were ready to parade by May 10, when they turned out to receive Continentalreceive Continental Congress, and also to honor John Hancock.
The foot company and riflemen turned out to meet the Southern delegates to Congress at Gray’s Ferry. The officers of all the companies mounted, went out to meet the Eastern delegates and Hancock.
The associators’ organization was officered as follows: First Battalion, John Dickinson, colonel; John Chevalier, lieutenant colonel; Jacob Morgan and William Coates, majors. Second Battalion, Daniel Roderdeau, colonel; Joseph Reed, lieutenant colonel; John Cox and John Bayard, majors. Third Battalion, John Cadwallader, colonel; John Nixon, lieutenant colonel; Thomas Mifflin and Samuel Merideth, majors.
Peter Markoe was captain of the light horse, Joseph Cowperthwait of the Quaker Blues, James Biddle, Benjamin Loxley, Thomas Proctor and Joseph Moulder, were officers of the artillery, and Richard Peters, Tench Francis, William Bradford and Lambert Cadwallader were in command of the Greens. John Shee, John Wilcocks, Thomas Willing, Francis Gurney and others were of the staff.
The battalions, mustering 1500 men, all uniformed and equipped, and 500 artillerymen and troops of horse, gave a drill early in June in the presence of the “honorable members of the Continental Congress and several thousand spectators.”
The troops were reviewed by General Washington on June 20 and next day he set out for Boston escorted across New Jersey by the cavalry troop.
On June 23, the associators listened to an eloquent sermon by the Reverend Dr. William Smith.
They petitioned the Assembly, setting forth a full and detailed account of their organization into companies, etc., and asked that they be put into service at once. Neither the Governor nor the Council had the power or funds to comply, and even the Congress had no direct authority as yet to raise an army.
Franklin had returned from England May 5, and the next morning he was elected to Congress. But his work on the Committee of Safety is really the history of the defense of Philadelphia during the first year of the war.
It was late in June before the Committee of Safety was given power to employ the associators, and the city and counties were called upon to provide arms and equipment, the House agreeing to pay for the service of the troops.
A committee was named whose duty it was to call troops into the service as necessity demanded and to provide for the defense of this Province against insurrections and invasion.
The Committee of Safety met July 3. Franklin was unanimously chosen president, and William Govett, clerk. It proceeded to business with energy and dispatch.
Penn’s remarkable frame of Government, dated April 25, 1682, was so far in advance of the age that, as Bancroft says, “its essential principles remain to this day without change.” Another competent critic has said that in it was “the germ if not the development of every valuable improvement in Government or legislation which has been introduced into the political systems of more modern epochs.”
The government was to consist of the Governor, a Provincial Council, and a General Assembly. These bodies, which were to make laws, create courts, choose officers and transact public affairs, were to be elected by the freemen by ballot. By freemen, were meant not only handholders, but “every inhabitant, artificer, or other resident that pays scot or lot to the Government.” Penn believed that “any government is free to the people under it, whatever be the frame, where the laws rule and the people are a party to those laws, and more than this is tyranny, oligarchy or confusion.”
The “Frame of Government” and the “Laws Agreed Upon in England” were the final products of all Penn’s best thinking and conferences, and were brought with him to the Colony. Though changed in form many times, they shaped all future Constitutions of Pennsylvania, of other States and even the Federal Union.
This frame was published by Penn, together with certain laws agreed on between himself and the purchasers under him, entitled “The Frame of the Government of the Province of Pennsylvania, in America; together with certain laws, agreed upon in England by the Governor and divers of the Free Men of the aforesaid Province. To be further Explained and Confirmed there, by the First Provincial Council and General Assembly that shall be held, if they seem meet.”
James Claypoole called it in one of his letters, “the fundamentals for government.” In effect it was the first Constitution of Pennsylvania. It was the work of William Penn and reflects precisely some of the brightest and some of the much less bright traits of his genius and character.
The “preface” or preamble to this Constitution is curious, for it is written as if Penn felt that the eyes of the court were upon him. The first two paragraphs form a simple excursus upon the doctrine of the law and the transgressor as expounded in St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans: “For we know that the law is spiritual; but I am carnal, sold under the sin,” etc. From this Penn derives “the divine right of government,” the object of government being two-fold, to terrify evildoers and to cherish those who do well “which gives government a life beyond corruption (i. e., divine right), and makes it as durable in the world as good men should be.” Hence Penn thought that government seemed like a part of religion itself, a thing sacred in its institution and end.
“They weakly err,” continues Penn, “that think there is no other use of government than correction; which is the coarsest part of it. * * * Men side with their passions against their reason, and their sinister interests have so strong a bias upon their minds that they lean to them against the good of the things they know.”
The form, he concludes, does not matter much after all, “Any government is free to the people under it (whatever be the frame) where the laws rule and the people are a party to these laws.” Good men are to be preferred even above good laws. The frame of laws now published, Penn adds, “has been carefully contrived to secure the people from abuse of power.”
In the Constitution which follows the preamble, Penn begins by confirming to the freemen of the province all the liberties, franchises and properties secured to them by the patent of King Charles II.
After stating how the government was to be organized, he directed that the council of seventy-two members, was to be elected at once, one-third of the members to go out, and their successors elected each year, and after the first seven years those going out each year shall not be returned within a year. Two-thirds of the members constituted a quorum on all important matters, but twenty-four would suffice on minor questions.
The Governor was to preside and to have three votes. All bills should be prepared and proposed by the Council for presentation to the General Assembly, which body, on the ninth day should pass or defeat such measures as presented.
To be sure the Provincial Council also was an elective body, but the difference was in the fact that it was meant to consist of the Governor’s friends; it was an aristocratic body, and therefore not entirely representative.
Aside from this fatal defect there is much to praise in Penn’s Constitution and something to wonder at, as being so far in advance of his age.
Besides carefully defining and limiting the executive functions of the Governor and Council a wholesome and liberal provision was made for education, public schools, inventions and useful scientific discoveries.
The Constitution could not be altered without the consent of the Governor and six-sevenths of the Council and the General Assembly, which rule, if enforced, would have perpetuated any Constitution, however bad.
On May 15, 1682, Penn’s code of laws, passed in England, to be altered or amended in Pennsylvania, was promulgated. It consisted of forty statutes, the first of which declared the character or Constitution, which has just been analyzed to be “fundamental in the Government itself.”
Regulations as to taxes, trials, prisons and marriage were clearly set forth in the code. It was also arranged that every child of twelve should be taught some useful trade. Members of the Council and General Assembly, as well as Judges, were to be professing Christians. Every one was to be allowed to worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience and this not as a mere matter of toleration, but because it was an inherent right.
The penalty of death was to be inflicted sparingly; some 200 offenses which were named as capital by English law were to be punished in a lighter manner.
During Penn’s absence there was clashing, dissension and tumult. If he could have kept his hand in person on the Government for a generation there would have been a wonderful difference in the results attained.
In the spring of 1779 conditions along the frontier became more serious than in any time past. The Indians were more active and destroyed growing crops and burned the homes and outbuildings of the settlers, whom they murdered or took away in captivity.
The condition was so alarming it was reported to the Supreme Executive Council. One such letter, dated “Fort Augusta 27th April, 1779” written by Colonel Samuel Hunter, was in part: “I am really sorry to inform you of our present Disturbances; not a day, but there is some of the Enemy makes their appearances on our Frontiers. On Sunday last, there was a party of Savages attact’d the inhabitants that lived near Fort Jenkins, and had taken two or three familysfamilys prisoners, but the Garrison being appris’d of it, about thirty men turned out of the Fort and Rescued the Prisoners; the Indians collecting Themselves in a body drove our men under Cover of the Fort, with the loss of three men kill’d & four Badly Wounded; they burned several houses near the Fort, kill’d cattle, & drove off a number of Horses.
“Yesterday there was another party of Indians, about thirty or forty, kill’d and took seven of our militia, that was stationed at a little Fort near Muncy Hill, call’d Fort Freeland; there was two or three of the inhabitants taken prisoners; among the latter is James McKnight, Esqr., one of our Assemblymen; the same day a party of thirteen of the inhabitants that went to hunt their Horses, about four or five miles from Fort Muncy was fired upon by a large party of Indians, and all taken or kill’d except one man. Captain Walker, of the Continental Troops, who commands at that post turned out with thirty-four men to the place he heard the firing, and found four men kill’d and scalped and supposes they Captured ye Remaind’r.
“This is the way our Frontiers is harrassed by a cruel Savage Enemy, so that they cannot get any Spring crops in to induce them to stay in the County. I am afraid in a very short time we shall have no inhabitants above this place unless when General Hand arrives here he may order some of the Troops at Wyoming down on our Frontiers, all Col. Hartley’s Regiment, our two month’s men, and what militia we can turn out, is very inadequate to guard our Country.
“I am certain everything is doing for our relief but afraid it will be too late for this County, as its impossible to prevail on the inhabitants to make a stand, upon account of their Women and Childer.
“Our case is Really deplorable and alarming, and our County on ye Eve of breaking up, as I am informed at the time I am writing this by two or three expresses that there is nothing to be seen but Desolation, fire & smoke, as the inhabitants is collected at particular places, the Enemy burns all their Houses that they have evacuated.” The bearer of this important letter was James Hepburn.
It is a matter of interest that the James McKnight captured at Fort Freeland had secured 300 acres of land, April 3, 1769, in what is now Union County, where he brought his family. In 1774 they purchased three tracts of land “contiguous to and bounded on each other,” on Limestone Run, in Turbut Township, Northumberland County.
In 1776 William McKnight was chosen a member of the Committee of Safety, and was a most zealous and active patriot.
Both he and his wife perished at the hands of the Indians, when they attempted to make a trip from Fort Freeland, where they had sought refuge from the savages. Their only son, James, carried their bodies from Fort Freeland to the graveyard now known as Chillisquaque, and there buried them himself.
James McKnight had three sisters. He married Elizabeth Gillen, and was regarded as a man of great courage and rectitude. In 1778 he was elected to the General Assembly, but did not long survive to enjoy the honor.
The McKnight family had frequent and terrible experiences with the Indians. In the autumn of 1778 Mrs. James McKnight and Mrs. Margaret Wilson Durham, each with an infant in her arms, started on horseback from Fort Freeland to go to Northumberland. Near the mouth of Warrior Run, about two miles from the fort, they were fired upon by a band of Indians, lying in ambush. Mrs. Durham’s child was killed in her arms, and she fell from her horse. An Indian rushed out of the bushes, scalped her and fled.
Alexander Guffy and two companions named Peter and Ellis Williams rushed to the scene of the shooting and when they approached Mrs. Durham, whom they supposed dead, they were greatly surprised to see her rise up and piteously call for water. With the loss of her scalp she presented a horrible appearance. Guffy ran to the river and brought water in his hat. They then bound up her head, as best they could, and placed her in a canoe and hastily paddled down stream fifteen miles to Sunbury, where Colonel William Plunket, also a distinguished physician, dressed her wounded head, and she recovered. She died in 1829, aged seventy-four years.
Mrs. McKnight escaped unhurt from the surprise attack. The shots frightened the horse she was riding, it turned and ran back to the fort. Mrs. McKnight came near losing her child, when the horse wheeled and the child fell from her arms, but she caught it by the foot and held to it until the fort was reached.
Two sons of Mrs. McKnight, who were accompanying the party on foot, attempted to escape by hiding under the bank of the river, but were taken by the Indians.
James Durham, husband of Margaret, was taken at the same time. The three prisoners survived their captivity in Canada, and returned to their homes at the close of the Revolution in 1783.
On the eventful day that the little stockade was next attacked, April 26, 1779, Hon. James McKnight, was captured by the Indians.
William McKnight and his wife and James and his wife are interred in the old Chillisquaque burying ground.
Even before the advent of canals or railroads the enterprising merchants of Baltimore sensed the importance of facilitating the commerce along the great Susquehanna River.
They believed it would materially enhance their volume of business, especially in lumber, iron, grain, and whiskey, if the river would be freed of such obstructions as impeded or hindered navigation.
Large sums of money were expended in removing rocky channels in the river below Columbia, so as to admit the passage of arks and rafts down stream, on their way to tide water. A canal had been constructed from Port Deposit, northward, in order that the returning craft might avoid the shoals and dangerous reefs along the first ten miles above tide water.
Yet in spite of all these improvements no satisfactory way had been found which would return to the producers of the Susquehanna Valley such articles of commerce and merchandise as they would naturally require in return for the raw products of the forest, field and mine.
The authorities of Pennsylvania were also awake to the situation, as were the citizens. Several attempts had been made to have complete surveys of the river and estimates of the cost of the work required to make the great river navigable.
To Baltimore, more than to Pennsylvania, belongs the credit of an actual attempt to establish steamboat navigation.
In 1825 a small steamboat, named the Susquehanna, was built in Baltimore and, when launched, was towed up to Port Deposit.
The Harrisburg Chronicle said:
“The Susquehanna was expected at Columbia on Sunday night, Tuesday’s reports were, that she had not got to Columbia. Eye-witnesses to her progress put the matter to rest on Wednesday; they had seen her a short distance above the head of the Maryland Canal, with a posse of men tugging at the ropes, and when they had tugged nine miles gave up the job. So ended all the romance about the Susquehanna. She drew too much water (22 inches) for the purpose and started at the wrong point. Watermen say that the crookedness of the channel, with the rapidity of the current, makes it utterly impossible for a steamboat to ascend the falls between the head of the canal and Columbia.”
The Chronicle article says further: “We have a report that Mr. Winchester, of Baltimore, has contracted for the building of a steamboat at York Haven. We also learn that the York Company are making great progress with the sheet-iron steamboat, and that she will be launched about the 4th of July.”
This sheetiron boat was called the Codorus, and early in April of the next year ascended the river as far as Binghamton, after which she returned to York Haven. Her captain, a Mr. Elger, reported that navigation of the Susquehanna by steam was impracticable.
Either the original Susquehanna renamed or another steamboat built by the BaltimoreBaltimore promoters, and named Susquehanna and Baltimore was put on the river and operation above Conewago Falls by Captain Cornwell, an experienced river pilot.
She was accompanied on her trial trip on this portion of the river by a board of Commissioners of the State of Maryland, Messrs. Patterson, Ellicott and Morris, three distinguished citizens of Baltimore. Capt. Cornwell had already in March made several successful trips as far up as Northumberland and Danville on the North Branch and to Milton on the West Branch, returning to York Haven without accident.
April 17, 1826, the boat started from York Haven, having in tow a large keel boat capable of carrying a thousand bushels of wheat, and proceeded on her fatal trip, arriving at the Nescopeck Falls at 4 o’clock on May 3. At these falls there was an outer and an artificial inner channel of shallow water for the accommodation of rafts and arks. Capt. Cornwell decided after consulting with other river men on board, to try first the main, or deep water channel, and the captain argued that if the boat would not stem it, that he could then drop back and try the other one. The boat made a halt in a small eddy below the falls on the east side of the river and some of the passengers went ashore; this was the case with the Maryland Commissioners.
The boat was directed into the main channel, and had proceeded perhaps two-thirds of the distance through the falls, when she ceased to make further progress, the engine was stopped and she was permitted to drift back to the foot of the rapid, where she struck upon a wall dividing the artificial from the main channel, and at that instant one of her boilers exploded.
The scene was as awful as the imagination can picture. Two of the passengers on board, named John Turk and Heber Whitmarsh, raftmen from Chenango, N.Y., were instantly killed; William Camp, a merchant from Owego, was fatally scalded by escaping steam. Dave Rose, of Chenango, N. Y., was fatally injured. Quincy Maynard, the engineer, as stated in the account published in the Danville Watchman, one week after the occurrence, was not expected to recover. Christian Brobst, of Catawissa and Jeremiah Miller, of Juniata, were seriously injured. Messrs. Woodside, Colt and Underwood, of Danville, were more or less injured, as were Messrs. Barton, Hurley, Foster and Colonel Paxton, of Catawissa, and Benjamin Edwards, of Braintrim, Luzerne County.
It was said by somebody on board that at the time of the explosion, a passenger was holding down the lever of the safety valve, but why this should be done after the boat had ceased her efforts to pull through is difficult to conjecture. Thus ended the second attempt to navigate the Susquehanna by steam power.