May 19, 1825
An amusing sensation started in 1824 continued to attract attention in Philadelphia during the following year.
There had been more or less laxity in the various militia organizations in the election of their officers and this was much more evident in Philadelphia than elsewhere in the State.
John Pluck, an ignorant hostler, was elected colonel of the Eighty-fourth Regiment as a joke and to ridicule the militia system, which at that moment was very unpopular with the members.
This election had been resisted by many who were disinclined to treat so serious a matter jocularly, and the board of officers set aside the election as illegal, and ordered a new election.
At the next election John Pluck received 447 votes; Benjamin Harter, 64; and John Ferdey, commonly called “Whistling Johnny,” 15.
The successful candidate treated the matter seriously and issued an order for a parade of the First Battalion on May 1, on Callowhill Street, the right resting on Sixth Street; and the Second Battalion was ordered to parade at the same place on May 19.
The order further directed that Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph Norbury was to command the training of the First Battalion. The colonel himself was to take charge of the Second Battalion.
The papers of that day do not notice the parade of the First Battalion, which was scheduled for May 1, but they have much to say about the big parade of May 19.
It seems that by this time most of the militiamen in the regiment fully sensed the ridiculous position they were in with such an ignorant commander, and on the occasion of this much heralded parade the members appeared in fantastic costumes.
Many of the militiamen were armed with ponderous imitations of weapons, and a large number of the populace turned out in the parade, dressed in every imaginable sort of costume, such as would even cause a ripple of laughter at Hallowe’en; these were armed with brooms, rakes, hoes and every conception of weapon.
Philadelphia had never before witnessed such a “military” parade, and was quite unaccustomed to such a display, and this regimental review of “horribles” attracted much attention.
Colonel Pluck was mounted on a fine steed, and Adjutant Roberts, also well mounted, were the moving spirits of the parade and did not seem to fully realize the burlesque features of it.
The regiment marched out to Bush Hill, followed by thousands of people on foot and hundreds on horseback.
The press was either silent or expressed dissatisfaction. It could not have done otherwise.
A few days following the parade Colonel Pluck issued new orders. He said: “Well, I am an honest man, anyhow. And I ain’t afraid to fight, and that’s more than most of them can say.”
The United States Gazette said, “Pluck is the head groom at the corner of Third and Callowhill Streets. Some months ago he was chosen commander-in-chief of the ‘bloody Eighty-fourth;’ but the powers that be refused to commission him. * * * The Militia system is a farce. DemagoguesDemagogues have been using commissions in the militia as stepping-stones to offices of profit and honor. A cure must be found for the evil, which is to make fun of it.”
The “Pluck Parade” rendered one other good service to Philadelphia. When the regiment paraded to Bush Hill and wound up the day in disorderly frivolities, the grand jury in June declared Bush Hill a public nuisance. This was a large open field on the north side of Callowhill Street, between Schuylkill Fourth and Schuylkill Fifth.
The presentment of the grand jury states that men and women resorted there on various days, as well as on the Sabbath, “drinking, tippling, cursing, swearing, etc.” The grand jury further said that it had “particular reference to the days on which regiments and battalions of militia parade, when numerous booths, tents, and gaming tables are there erected.”
It would be supposed that such a fantastic exhibition, directed against the militia system, would soon cause a change in the existing law, but it did no such thing.
The act of Assembly of April 2, 1822, had reorganized the militia of Pennsylvania, and divided the State into sixteen military divisions.
But the act did not work to the advantage of the militia system. It developed a lot of merely dress parade organizations, which were usually equipped with costly and gaudy uniforms, while discipline and military regulations became at once of secondary importance.
From 1808 to 1844, the laws were principally for designating independent companies with high-sounding names. Such militiamen were exempted from drilling with regular militia, and occasionally the Legislature made appropriations to certain favored companies.
The music on days of general muster was not only made a special feature of the occasion but its cost was borne by the State.
So it is little wonder that the “Bloody Eighty-fourth,” elected “Colonel Pluck,” or that the populace and papers of that day demanded a change in the militia system of the State.
As an appropriate closing to the round of dissipation in which the British Army had indulged during its occupation of Philadelphia, the officers gave a magnificent entertainment, called the Meschianza, in honor of Sir William Howe, as commander-in-chief of the British Army in America. This stupendous folly was given May 18, 1778, at the Wharton mansion.
Shortly after the close of the entertainment, on the following day, the British commander was informed that General Lafayette with 2400 men and five cannon had crossed the Schuylkill and was then at Barren Hill, about eleven miles from Philadelphia.
In the hope of capturing this force, and thus signalizing his retirement from the command by a brilliant stroke, General Howe, on the night of the 19th, sent General Grant, with Sir William Erskine and General Grey, at the head of 5300 chosen men, to gain the rear of Lafayette’s position by a circuitous route. General Howe, accompanied by Sir Henry Clinton, General Knyphausen and Admiral Howe, set out with 5700 troops on the following morning, May 20, expecting to intercept the American Army in retreat at Chestnut Hill.
Lafayette’s position was skillfully chosen. His troops were encamped on a commanding eminence west of the Wissahickon, flanked by the Schuylkill and rocky precipices on the right and by woods and several strong stone houses on the left. His cannon were in front. A few hundred yards in advance of his left wing, on the Ridge road, were Captain Allen McLane’s company of about fifty Indians and a company of Morgan’s Riflemen, under Captain Parr. Videttes and pickets were stationed on the roads leading to Philadelphia and those toward Whitemarsh he had ordered to be watched by 600 Pennsylvania militia.
The British plan of surprise was well conceived. Grant, with the grenadiers and light infantry, undertook to get in Lafayette’s rear by the Whitemarsh road. Grey, with the Hessians, was to cross the river and post his men at the fords in order to prevent the Americans from making their escape.
Early in the morning of the 20th, while Lafayette was conversing with a girl who was preparing to go into Philadelphia for intelligence under the pretense of visiting her relations, news came that a body of cavalry had been seen at Whitemarsh, dressed in red. As Lafayette was expecting a detachment of dragoons to join him in that direction, he at first supposed they were his own men and felt no concern.
Lafayette, however, sent out an officer to reconnoiter, who soon returned with the report that a column of the enemy was in full march along the road from Whitemarsh to Swede’s Ford, a little more than a mile from his encampment, and that the front of the column had actually gained the road which led from Barren Hill to Valley Forge.
This was Grant’s division and as another was approaching on the Philadelphia road, the situation of Lafayette’s force was alarming and critical, being nearly surrounded by the enemy.
No time was to be lost. In a few minutes retreat would have been cut off and the army would have fallen an easy prey to the British. Lafayette immediately sent forward small bodies of troops with the view of deceiving Grant into the belief that they were the heads of a large attacking force.
This ruse succeeded. Grant halted and prepared for action to prevent his line from being attacked on its flank, and during the interval thus gained Lafayette and General Poor, with the main body, conducted a skillful retreat over the country between the Ridge road and the Schuylkill, which he crossed at Matson’s Ford.
Grey, with his intercepting force, had cut off the direct retreat to Valley Forge, but had failed to cover Matson’s Ford. The detachments which Lafayette had thrown forward as a “blind” retreated in good order, and when the two columns of the British Army united near Barren Hill Church, General Howe discovered that his intended prize had outwitted and escaped him.
While the artillery was crossing the river, there was a skirmish at Matson’s Ford, in which nine Americans were killed or captured and two British troopers killed and several wounded.
Lafayette drew up his force in strong position on the west bank of the river, and, having planted his cannon, awaited the enemy’s approach. But the British generals made no further movement in that direction, and the army was forced to return to Philadelphia, after a long and fatiguing march, without having accomplished anything. Seldom has a military maneuvre been executed with more success.
Howe and the British officers were intensely mortified at this failure. So sure were they of success that it is said that before the troops left for Barren Hill the General invited some ladies to sup with Lafayette upon his return, while his brother, the admiral, prepared a frigate to send the distinguished prisoner immediately to England.
Fortune had favored the British in so far that Lafayette would not have been surprised, but for the negligence of the Pennsylvania militia, who in disobedience of orders, had removed from their station at Whitemarsh without the General’s knowledge.
An amusing adventure occurred during the retreat. A body of British light horse came suddenly upon the Indians, who were posted in a wood at a considerable distance from the main army. The Indians fired their muskets and set up a hideous yell, according to their custom in battle. Both parties ran off, equally frightened at the unexpected and terrific appearance of their antagonists.
Stephen Girard was born near Bordeaux, France, May 21, 1750, the son of a sea captain. At the age of eight a little playmate threw an oyster shell into the open fire, it cracked, a piece struck Stephen and put out his right eye. The other boys of the neighborhood made fun of the one-eyed lad, which, with the sternness of his parents soured Stephen’s disposition, and he became sullen and gloomy.
His mother died, and Stephen could no longer bear to live at home. Although but fourteen he sailed as cabin boy on the ship Pelerin for St. Domingo, and then for nine years sailed between Bordeaux and the French West Indies, during which time he studied navigation, until October 4, 1773, a license was issued “to Stephen Girard, of Bordeaux, full authority to act as captain, master and patron of a merchant vessel.”
His attention now turned to commercial affairs in connection with the pursuit of the sea. His journal contains records of invoices and sales of goods suited to a West Indian market. These goods, amounting in value to $3000 Federal money, were disposed of in St. Domingo, February, 1774.
From the West Indies he sailed to New York, arrived there July, 1774. Here his business tact and shrewdness in trade attracted the notice of Thomas Randall, a prosperous merchant, and for more than two years Girard traded with New York, New Orleans and Port au Prince, on his own account and jointly with Mr. Randall.
One night in May, 1776, Stephen Girard’s vessel was overtaken by a storm and the ship was driven before the gale, until Captain Girard could hear the waves upon the shore. He cast anchor and waited for the morning. When daylight dawned the fog was too heavy for him to locate his position.
Girard fired a cannon as a signal of distress, which was soon answered by the approach of a pilot. “Where are we?” asked Captain Girard. “You are in Delaware Bay,” answered the pilot. “I wish to go to New York,” said Girard. “It can’t be done,” was the reply, “the British ships are swarming outside. You escaped them because of the fog but as soon as it disappears they will see and capture you. You must sail up to Philadelphia.”
Captain Stephen Girard saw that the advice was good, went to Philadelphia, sold his vessel and cargo, and made the city his home.
He set up a small store on Water Street, a short distance from the spot where he afterward located. He had no friends, and could speak English but poorly, but his business ability was so pronounced that he succeeded from the very beginning.
In July, 1777, he married Mary Lumm, of Philadelphia, the daughter of a shipbuilder, but the union was unhappy. Mr. Girard applied for a divorce, but his wife died of insanity in a hospital.
The approach of the British troops to Philadelphia drove Mr. Girard to Mount Holly, N. J., where he enjoyed a profitable trade with the American sailors, until the evacuation of Philadelphia, when he returned and for a few years was associated in business with his brother, John. This connection was dissolved in 1780, by which time Stephen had gained a fortune of $30,000.
During the next ten years he acquired a number of vessels, and had secured the lease on a range of stores at a time when rents were low, which he underlet at a large profit. He began to build a splendid fleet of ships, and soon every ocean saw Girard’s vessels.
Once when the United States was again troubled by the British, a ship owned by Girard, carrying a rich cargo from the East, almost in sight of Delaware Bay, was captured. Girard drove a bargain with the British captain and bought back his vessel for $180,000. Then he brought her to Philadelphia and sold the cargo for $500,000. It was difficult to beat Stephen Girard.
He was very frugal in private life, but generous in public affairs. During the yellow fever epidemic in 1793, Girard personally devoted several hours each day serving in the hospital. Of all his benefactions for the poor of his adopted country, this was really his noblest work.
His mercantile business had grown so profitable and his fortune had increased so rapidly that in June, 1812, he determined to devote his attention to banking. To this end he purchased the bank-house of the Bank of the United States and opened “The Bank of Stephen Girard,” with a capital of $1,200,000, which was increased afterward to $4,000,000.
Just as Robert Morris was the financier of the Revolution, so Stephen Girard was the financier of the War of 1812. In 1814 it looked as though the American cause must fail for lack of funds, and the heads of the national Government were in despair. A loan was offered in the money market, but so low was the credit of the Nation that only $200,000 was subscribed. Thereupon Stephen Girard took the whole issue of bonds, amounting to $5,000,000, and saved us from defeat and a disgraceful peace with England.
Girard contributed liberally to public improvements, and adorned Philadelphia with many handsome buildings.
At the age of eighty Girard was the richest man in America. The same year he was knocked down by a carriage and badly injured. “Go on, doctor, I am an old sailor; I can bear a great deal,” he said to his physician. He lived two years afterward.
When he died, December 26, 1831, his estate was valued at $9,000,000. Besides large bequests to public institutions, he gave $500,000 to improve the water front of Philadelphia. He gave $2,000,000 and a plot of ground for the erection and support of a college for orphans, which was opened January 1, 1848.
At his death he was buried in the vault of the Holy Trinity Roman Catholic Church, but on the completion of Girard College his remains were reinterred in a sarcophagus beneath the statue of the donor in the vestibule of the main building of the college.
Girard College is the most richly endowed educational institution in the world, and its founder was one of the most remarkable men who ever lived, and his accidental residence in Philadelphia was one of the most fortunate incidents in the history of Pennsylvania.
The completion of the Federal Constitution and its adoption by ten of the United States was celebrated on July 4, 1788, by a great procession in the City of Philadelphia. And it was truly a great affair, far surpassing in extent and magnificence anything of the kind the young Nation had yet known.
Immediately after the close of the constitutional convention which this pageant celebrated, General Washington, who had presided over the convention as its president, left Philadelphia for his home at Mount Vernon, again hoping that he might enjoy the freedom of life on his extensive lands on the banks of the Potomac. But this could not be so in his case.
The first election for President of the United States was held January 7, 1789, and the country called Washington to be its first President under the Constitution which he had helped to formulate. President-elect Washington set out from Mount Vernon for New York, where Congress was in session, in April, after having been officially notified of his election.
His many friends in Philadelphia were reluctant to see him go to New York, but made elaborate preparations for his reception in Philadelphia when he should pass through that city on the way to assume the high office. He was met by the Hon. Thomas Mifflin, president of the State; distinguished officers, the First City Troop of Horse and citizens. The imposing parade passed through arches formed of laurel, and along streets crowded with people and buildings decorated with flags. A banquet was spread, toasts were drunk and addresses delivered by the high officials of the State.
The next day President Washington set out for Trenton in his carriage.
Less than a month later Mrs. Washington, or Lady Washington, as many persisted in calling her, followed the general to New York and like her distinguished husband, she was delightfully entertained by her many friends and admirers in Philadelphia.
On Friday, May 22, the two troops of Light Horse, commanded by Captain Miles and Bingham, accompanied by General Mifflin, president of the State; Richard Peters, Speaker of the Assembly, and many ladies and gentlemen prominent in Philadelphia and the State, went to a point near Darby to meet her. Mrs. Robert Morris with a company of ladies in carriages joined the escort there.
When Mrs. Washington arrived all went to Grays Ferry where a fine collation was served at Gray’s Garden. In the party besides the president of the State and Speaker of the Assembly, were Temple Franklin, Benjamin Crew, Jr., Robert Morris, Jr., William Morris, Richard Bache, John Ross, Robert Hare, George Harrison, Samuel Meredith, also the gentlemen troopers, a large number of Continental officers, citizens and about twenty ladies.
There is a record of this luncheon and bill of expenses which reveal that the company consumed ten bottles of Madeira wine, one bottle of champagne, two bottles of claret, forty-five bowls of punch, ten bottles of American porter, one bottle of ale, and two bottles of cider.
The honored visitor was then escorted by the troopers to the residence of Robert Morris, on High Street, amid the ringing of bells, the discharge of salvos of artillery, and the shouts of great crowds of people.
Mrs. Washington remained in Philadelphia over the week-end. There were entertainments given in her honor during these two days.
On Monday she was similarly complimented upon her departure for New York, and accompanied by Mrs. Robert Morris, she was escorted upon her way for a considerable distance.
In New York, on May 29, at the opening levee, Mrs. Morris occupied the first place on the right of the hostess. This position of honor was accorded her whenever she was present at a similar function, either in New York or Philadelphia.
The glad news was soon received in Philadelphia that the capital was to be removed from New York to the city which had been the capital of the thirteen colonies during the Revolution and where the Constitution of the United States was born.
President and Mrs. Washington soon became comfortably settled in the fine home of Robert Morris, the same house which Sir William Howe occupied while the British were in possession of Philadelphia and General Washington was suffering with the Colonial troops at Valley Forge. The Morris house was built of brick, three stories high. The stable could accommodate twelve horses. This property was purchased by Mr. Morris in August, 1785, and at once he rebuilt the house, which had been destroyed by fire in 1780. Mr. and Mrs. Morris moved into the house which had been confiscated from Joseph Galloway during the Revolution. It adjoined the other residence.
The President and Mrs. Washington reached Philadelphia November 27, 1790. At the first levee given Mr. and Mrs. Morris were, as usual, honored guests.
The home of the Washingtons became noted for its generous hospitality. The younger people of the President’s household, as well as their elders, were fond of going to the theatre.
The family of the President and his wife included Miss Custis, a granddaughter of Mrs. Washington, aged about sixteen, and George Washington Custis, her brother, about eighteen years old.
Their dinners were elegant and in good taste. President Washington had a stud of twelve or fourteen horses and occasionally rode out to take the air with six horses to the coach, and always two footmen behind his carriage.
When the news reached Philadelphia that Washington had died,died, bells were muffled for three days, a funeral procession was held and Major General Henry Lee delivered an oration.
With Washington gone, the removal of the capital to the new Federal City did not bring such a wrench to the people of Philadelphia, who dearly loved the great and good man and his estimable wife.
During the month of May, 1760, Christian Frederic Post, the renowned Moravian, on his way with a message from James Hamilton, Lieutenant Governor of the Province of Pennsylvania, to the Great Indian Council at Onondaga, the seat of government of the Six Nations, stopped overnight at Wyalusing in now Bradford County. At the request of Papunhank, the chief of the Munsee, and the other Indians, he preached a sermon. Among those in the crowd on that occasion were Job Chilloway, the friendly Delaware Indian interpreter, and Tom Curtis, another Indian of much consequence.
Papunhank was losing his influence among his people on account of his own dissolute life, and a movement was started to bring in white teachers. In their councils, however, they were divided in opinion, one party favoring the Quakers and the other the Moravians, and so equal was the strength of the two parties that neither was willing to yield to the other. Their differences were compromised by agreeing to accept the first teacher who came.
John Woolman, the prominent Quaker evangelist, having made the acquaintance of some of the Wyalusing Indians at Philadelphia, probably of Papunhank himself, after much deliberation, set out in company with Benjamin Parvin, to visit the town, in May, 1763, purposing, if he should be well received, to remain with them and teach them the gospel.
In the meantime, news of the awakened interest in religion at Wyalusing reached the ears of Reverend David Zeisberger, the celebrated Moravian apostle to the Indians, and he left Bethlehem May 18, 1763, meeting Woolman on the mountain below Wilkes-Barre, where they dined together. Zeisberger proceeded on his way and reached Wyalusing on May 23, two days before Woolman arrived there.
When Zeisberger had arrived a short distance above the Lackawanna, he was met by Job Chilloway who informed him of the conclusion of the council at Onondaga, and accompanied him to Papunhank’s town. Here Zeisberger was received as the divinely sent messenger, and though wearied by his long journey, at once set about preaching the gospel to his waiting and anxious hearers.
Woolman, on his arrival two days later, was received kindly, but was informed that, according to the decisions of their council, Zeisberger must be regarded as their accepted teacher. After remaining five days to assist in inaugurating the good work, he departed, with many prayers for the abundant success of the mission. The opportune arrival of Zeisberger was the occasion of founding one of the most important and successful missions ever established among the North American Indians.
Zeisberger was appointed resident missionary at Wyalusing soon as it was learned that he had been so well received. He prosecuted his labors there and at Tawandaemenk, a village at the mouth of Towanda Creek, with great success.
Scarcely had a month elapsed from the time Zeisberger’s first visit to Wyalusing, before the Pontiac War broke out, and the messengers of that celebrated chieftain were sent to every village on the Susquehanna, to urge the Indians to again take up the hatchet which they had so recently buried. These emissaries arrived at Wyalusing and Zeisberger was soon commanded to leave the town. All was now excitement and commotion. The intrepid missionary was compelled to suspend the work so auspiciously begun, but not before he had baptised Papunhank, who received the name of John, and another Indian who was called Peter.
The Moravian Christian Indians, for their greater security during the Pontiac War, in which they refused to take any part, were removed first to a settlement near Bethlehem, and then to Province Island, in the Delaware River, a little below Philadelphia, where they were sheltered in Government barracks. Thither Papunhank and twenty of his followers hastened. Here they lived for seventeen months, and at the first dawn of peace, emerged from their prison-like home and again sought homes in the forest. Papunhank invited the whole company to settle in his town on the Susquehanna. They accepted and marched to that place, led by their beloved teachers, Reverend Zeisberger and Reverend John Jacob Schmick.
This company, consisting of eighty adults and ninety children, set out from Bethlehem and after a tedious march of thirty-six days, arrived at Wyalusing May 9, 1765. They immediately set about building their town, and during the season thirty bark-covered huts, four log cabins, a mission house and church were erected.
The town was built on the east side of the river, about two miles south of the present borough of Wyalusing, and near the Sugar Run Station on the P. and N. Y. Railroad. The church was built of logs and had a belfry in which hung a bell. The town was surrounded by a post and rail fence. The streets were regularly cleaned by the Indian women. Adjoining the town were 250 acres of plantations. They also maintained sugar camps on Sugar Run.
The mission in 1766 received the name of Friedenshutten, meaning “Huts of Peace.” A schoolhouse was built next to the church, where adults and children were taught to read in both Delaware and German. Traders were not allowed to bring spirituous liquors into the town.
In 1767 the mission entertained Tuscarora and Nanticoke Indians on their migration northward.
Another mission was started at Sheshequanink, the present Ulster, soon after the close of the Pontiac War, but did not prosper as much as the older one. At the treaty of Fort Stanwix, November 5, 1768, the Six Nations sold this land away from the Delaware, and the Moravians were unable to induce Governor Penn to give them the land.
In September, 1766, Zeisberger left FriedenhuttenFriedenhutten, and went to the Delaware Indians on the Ohio River, where he established a mission. He soon induced the Indians at Wyalusing to follow him, and on June 11, 1772, the Indians at Wyalusing assembled in the church for the last time and then they marched in two companies for the Big Beaver, in now Lawrence County. They were led by the Reverend John Ettwein on this journey.
In the spring of the year 1774, at a time when the Indians seemed to be quiet and tranquil, a party of Virginians attacked the Mingo settlement, on the Ohio River, and slaughtered the entire population, even the women with their children in their arms, and members of the great Chief Logan’s family were among the slain.
This tragic event occurred on May 24, 1774, and according to the common belief at the time was perpetrated by Captain Michael Cresap, and a party who deliberately set out to kill every Indian they met, without regard to age or sex.
The first person to state that Logan’s family was murdered by Cresap was no other than Thomas Jefferson, in his “Notes in Virginia.”
The main authority for the vindication of Michael Cresap’s memory, is the extremely rare little volume, Jacob’s “Life of Cresap,” published in 1826. Jacob sets up an alibi for Cresap, but the present writer accepts the popular story that the wanton murder was perpetrated under the direction of Cresap.
Tahgahjute was the second son of Shikellamy, the great vicegerent of the Six Nations. He was born at Shamokin, about 1725, and was given his Christian name Logan in honor of James Logan, Secretary of the Province, who was a devoted friend of the great Shikellamy.
But little is known of the early life of Logan, but he worked his way West by degrees. He was for a time on the Juniata, where several places still bear his name, but his final home was near the mouth of the Yellow Creek, thirty miles above Wheeling.
Reverend John Heckewelder, the noted Moravian missionary among the Indians, while passing down the Ohio, in April, 1773, stopped at Logan’s settlement and in his interesting journal notes that “I received every civility I could expect from such of the family as were at home.”
Cresap was on the Ohio, below Wheeling, engaged in making a settlement. Some pioneers resolved to attack an Indian town near the mouth of the Sciota, and solicited Cresap to command the expedition. They attacked two canoes filled with Indians, chased them fifteen miles down the river, where a skirmish ensued, and the Indians who were not killed were taken. On the return of this party they planned an expedition against the settlement of Logan.
Cresap and his party proceeded to a point near the settlement and encamped on the bank, when some Indians passed them peaceably and encamped at the mouth of Grave Creek, a little below. Cresap attacked and killed the party. One of Cresap’s men fell in this action. Among the slain of the Indians were some of Logan’s family. Smith, one of the murderers, boasted of this fact in the presence of Logan’s friends.
This party then proceeded to Baker’s Bottom, opposite the mouth of Yellow Creek, when Greathouse, a spy, crossed over and approached the Indian camp as a friend and counted them. He reported their number too large to attack and was then warned by an Indian woman to leave, as the Indians had learned of Cresap’s murder of their relatives at Grave Creek and were angry and that they were drinking.
He returned to Baker’s, collected a large enough force, all got drunk, and then in that condition they fell upon and massacred the whole Indian camp except a girl, whom they kept as a prisoner. Among the slain was the woman who had warned him of his danger. A sister of Logan was inhumanly and indecently butchered in this attack.
This commenced the war, of which Logan’s war club was the chief factor. The first family murdered by him was the warning of what might be expected. Logan left a note in the house of the murdered family, and, true to his threat, great numbers of innocent men, women and children fell victims to the tomahawk and scalping knife until the decisive battle at Point Pleasant October 10, 1774.
When Lord Dunmore finally conquered the Indians and the treaty was held, Cornstalk was the principal speaker. He laid much stress for the cause of the war on the murder of Logan’s family. Logan disdained to meet with the white men in council and sat sullenly in his cabin while the treaty was in progress. Dunmore sent Captain (afterward Major General) John Gibson to invite him to the council. General Gibson later became one of the Associate Judges of Allegheny County.
The old Mingo chief took Gibson into the woods and, sitting down upon a mossy root, told him the story of the wrongs done to him and, as Gibson related, shedding many bitter tears. He refused to go to the council, but, unwilling to disturb the deliberations by seeming opposition, he sent a speech by the hand of Gibson to Governor Dunmore, which has been preserved and greatly admired for its pathetic eloquence. The speech was as follows:
“I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan’s cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the white, that my countrymen pointed as they passed and said, ‘Logan is the friend of the white man.’ I had ever thought to have lived with you, but for the injuries of one man, Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not even sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it. I have killed many; I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one.”
Lossing, in his “Field-Book of the Revolution,” says: “Logan, whose majestic person and mental accomplishments were the theme of favorable remark, became a victim of intemperance. Earlier than the time when Dunmore called him to council, he was addicted to the habit. The last three years of his life were very melancholy. Notwithstanding the miseries he had suffered at the hands of the white men, his benevolences made him the prisoner’s friend, until intemperance blunted his sensibilities, and in 1780 we find him among the marauders at Ruddell’s Station.”
The manner of his death is differently related. The patient researches of Mr. Mayer lead the writer to adopt his as the correct one, as it was from the lips of an aged Mohawk whom he saw at Caghnawaga, twelve miles from Montreal, in the summer of 1848. His mother was a Shawnee woman, and when he was a boy he often saw Logan. Mayer says:
“In a drunken frenzy near Detroit, in 1780, Logan struck his wife to the ground. Believing her dead, he fled to the wilderness. Between Detroit and Sandusky, he was overtaken by a troop of Indian men, women and children. Not yet sober, he imagined that the penalty of his crime was about to be inflicted by a relative. Being well armed, he declared that the whole party should be destroyed. In defense, his nephew, Todkahdohs, killed him on the spot, by a shot from his gun. His wife recovered from his blow.” Chief Logan died November 28, 1780.
Thomas Penn informed the Council, May 14, 1734, that the business then to be considered by them related to some very unneighborly proceedings in the province of Maryland, in not only harassing some of the inhabitants of this province who live on the border, but likewise extending their claims much farther than has heretofore been pretended to be Maryland, and carrying off several persons and imprisoning them.
Governor Penn then advised the Council that Marylanders had entered the settlements of John Hendricks and Joshua Minshall, on the Susquehanna, in what is now York County, and carried them off to Annapolis and confined them in jail.
The Governor arranged with Andrew Hamilton, Esq., to appear for the prisoners. He was accompanied by John Georges, his secretary.
They made their visit and on their return made a full report to Governor Penn.
Hamilton related that they were denied an interview with the prisoners, but this was allowed them the following day, when the prisoners gave an account of their arrest. They did not know what charges were lodged against them.
The lawyer then appealed to Governor Ogle who advised them that the charges against the prisoners were serious. Hamilton suggested that even if this be true the men were taken into custody by Maryland officials on Pennsylvania soil, and should be punished in that province.
Governor Ogle then ennumerated the many abuses the inhabitants of Maryland had suffered from those of Pennsylvania. This interview ended by appointment for a meeting before council on the following morning. At this meeting, which was pretty much bluff and bluster, but little was accomplished.
It was, however, agreed that each party should reduce their claims to writing and then present them to the King for settlement.
Hamilton prepared his instrument and ably defended the part of Pennsylvania, and recited the agreements of 1724 and 1732, which were intended to quiet all disputes on the border, until actual surveys should be concluded.
He stated that notwithstanding these agreements, “two of his Majesty’s subjects, John Hendricks and Joshua Minshall, inhabitants of Lancaster County, settled upon lands legally surveyed and patented to them under the proprietors of Pennsylvania, on the west side of the river Susquehanna, had been taken from their homes, which were at least eight miles to the northward of Philadelphia, and about twenty-three miles to the northward of the line agreed upon by the aforesaid articles to be the northern bounds of Maryland, which line runs near the mouth of Octoraroe Creek, to the northward of which Maryland has never exercised any jurisdiction, except over thirteen families, that is known to Pennsylvania, till within two or three years, about the time when an absolute boundary was agreed upon by the proprietors, though Pennsylvania has maintained its government as far southward as the mouth of the said creek for above these thirty years.”
The jail was too filthy to hold further conversation with the four Pennsylvanians and permission was obtained for the sheriff to take them to his home, where the interview was had.
They insisted they had never done or said anything against Lord Baltimore, and that if such was charged against them Thomas Cresap is the only man wicked enough to bring such false charges.
Hamilton could not get his clients into court as they were under prosecution in Provincial Court, and Governor Ogle would not interfere.
Several interviews were held with the Governor, even in his own home, but at each the executive insisted on reviewing a long list of transgressions along the border and would not agree to anything Hamilton had to propose.
On May 25 the most important session was had and Governor Ogle refused even to concur in the proposal made by Hamilton that they agree upon bounds which should be judged reasonable, upon which lands no persons should plant new settlements under severe penalties.
Hamilton and Georges then said, in their report, that they saw from the first that the Governor was resolved to avoid doing anything that might prevent further differences upon the boundaries. The Governor finally ceased to further discuss the question.
When the four prisoners were tried in Provincial Court they were denied their liberty, lest it should be understood as giving up his Lordship’s right to the lands in question.
Hamilton then drew up a memorial, citing the unreasonable proceedings of Maryland and the absolute necessity Pennsylvania would be under for its own protection. It was a strong argument, but of no avail. They returned to Philadelphia in disgust.
The border troubles grew in intensity and especially when Cresap and his followers were the most active.
Hendricks and Minshall were released at the end of their sentence and many of the stirring scenes along the border occurred in the vicinity of their settlements and with them as provincial actors in the drama.
The arrest of Cresap put a stop to the local warfare but the survey of the Mason and Dixon Line fixed for all time the actual boundary between the States.