Though not the largest nor yet the oldest, but to all Americans by far the most celebrated bell is the grand old “Liberty Bell,” whose tones on July 4, 1776, proclaimed the birthday of our Nation.

This historic bell was originally cast in London, in 1752, for the State House in Philadelphia. There it hung in the belfry of Independence Hall until July 8, 1835, when it cracked while tolling the news of the death of John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United States.

In the Centennial year, 1876, a new bell, modeled after the original Liberty Bell, was made by an American bell founder for the tower of the old State House, or Independence Hall.

It weighs 13,000 pounds to represent the thirteen original States, and carries in addition to the decoration of the old Liberty Bell, a border of stars and the additional inscription: “Glory to God and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

The story of the original bell begins in the year 1749, when the tower was erected on the south side of the main building of the State House. The superintendents were ordered to proceed as soon as they conveniently might, and the tower was to contain “the staircase with a suitable place therein for hanging a bell.”

A year later the House adopted a resolution directing “that the superintendents provide a bell of such weight and dimensions as they shall think suitable.” Isaac Norris, Thomas Leech and Edward Warner accordingly prepared a letter, which is interesting as it is the commencement of proceedings which resulted in the casting of what was afterward known as the “Liberty Bell.” The letter follows:

“To Robert Charles, of London, Nov. 1, 1751. Respected Friend.—The Assembly having ordered us (the superintendents of the State House) to procure a bell from England, to be purchased for their use, we take the liberty to apply ourselves to thee to get us a good bell of about two thousand weight, the cost of which we presume may amount to about one hundred pounds sterling, or perhaps more with the charges, etc.

“We hope and rely on thy care and assistance in this affair, and that thou will procure and forward it by the first opportunity, as our workmen inform us it will be less trouble to hang the bell before their scaffolds are struck from the building where we intend to place it, which will not be done until the end of next summer or beginning of the fall. Let the bell be cast by the best workmen, and examine it carefully before it is shipped with the following words, well shaped, in long letters around it, viz.:

“‘By order of the Assembly of the Province of Pennsylvania, for the State House in the city of Philadelphia, 1752.’

“and underneath.—'Proclaim Liberty through all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.—Levit. xxv. 10.'”

The bell was brought over in the ship Matilda, Captain Budden, and was unloaded on the wharf in Philadelphia about the end of August, 1752.

It was hung in position and when given its trial for sound “it was cracked by a stroke of the clapper, without any other violence.” Needless to state, the superintendents were disappointed and they determined to ship the bell back to England to be recast. But Captain Budden had already too heavy a cargo to carry the bell.

In this emergency two Philadelphians, Pass and Stow, undertook to recast it, using the material in the original bell. The mold was opened March 10, 1753. The work had been well done, even the letters being better than those on the first bell.

Pass and Stow first cast several small bells to test the quality of the material, and its sound, and found that there was too much copper in the mixture. It was their third mixture which was finally used.

A newspaper of June 7, 1753, carried this notice: “Last week was raised and fixed in the State House steeple the new great bell cast here by Pass and Stow, weighing 2080 pounds with this motto: ‘Proclaim Liberty to all the land and all the inhabitants thereof.’.” It was tested June 2 and proved satisfactory.

On July 8, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was read in the State House yard. At the same time the King’s Arms were taken from the court room and publicly burned, while merry chimes from the church steeples and peals from the State House bell “proclaimed liberty throughout the land.”

This was an event which made the inscription on the bell prophetic. John Adams, in writing to Samuel Chase on July 9, said, “The bells rang all day and almost all night.”

The British success on the Brandywine caused great consternation in Philadelphia. On September 15, 1777, the Supreme Executive Council ordered “the bells of Christ Church and St. Peter’s as well as the State House to be taken down and removed to a place of safety.” The church bells were sunk in the river or carried away, but the Liberty Bell, with ten others, was loaded on wagons and hauled via Bethlehem to Allentown. In Bethlehem the wagon bearing the State House bell broke down, and it had to be reloaded and, when Allentown was reached, the bell was hidden under the floor of Zion Reformed Church.

After the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British Army these bells were brought back, and the State House bell was placed in its old position in the latter part of 1778.

The “Liberty Bell” became a venerated object, and it was tacitly determined that it should only be rung on special occasions of rejoicing, or to commemorate some event of public importance. It was tolled in 1828 upon the news of the emancipation of the Catholics by act of the British Parliament. It celebrated the centennial anniversary of the birthday of Washington, February 22, 1832.

But an end was put to its usefulness for sound early in the morning of July 8, 1835. The break was at first only about eight inches in length, but when rung February 22, 1843, it was increased so much that it henceforth became a silent memento of the historic past.

The Liberty Bell has made several trips to great national expositions, notably the World’s Fair at Chicago, and the great San Francisco exposition, where it always was the most popular historic relic and viewed by millions of our citizens, but the danger incident to such exposure caused public disapproval of the bell again leaving the State House, and it will rest in this historic spot and continue to be the most popular relic in Pennsylvania.

The year 1769 was memorable in the annals of astronomy, owing to the transit of Venus over the sun’s disc, which occurred June 3. Astronomers throughout the entire world were anxious to make an observation of this celestial phenomenon, which would not occur again until 1874.

The great interest centered in this observation arose from the fact that by means of it the distance between the heavenly bodies could be more accurately calculated. It was the belief that the transits of Venus afforded the best method of measuring the distance of the sun from the earth.

This was a period of intense interest, and many expeditions were fitted out to observe the transit at different places in both the northern and southern hemispheres.

Mason and Dixon, the English astronomers, who gained undying fame as the surveyors of the boundary line between Pennsylvania and Maryland, started on a ship of war for their station on the southern hemisphere, but they were attacked by a French frigate and were compelled to return to port after a severe battle. Other expeditions became celebrated through the adventures to which they gave rise.

The transit of 1769 was visible in the Atlantic States and observations upon it were made under the auspices of the American Philosophical Society at Philadelphia. The most celebrated of all these observers was David Rittenhouse.

Benjamin Franklin had organized the society and in 1769 became the society’s first president. He was annually elected to that position for twenty-two years, being succeeded in 1791 by another Pennsylvanian, David Rittenhouse.

In 1768 the American Philosophical Society petitioned the Assembly of Pennsylvania for assistance to observe the transit of Venus, and the proposition was treated with liberality.

One hundred pounds was granted to enable the society to procure a reflecting telescope of two and a half or three feet focus and a micrometer of Dolland’s make, which had to be procured from England. They were purchased there by Dr. Franklin.

The society erected a wooden building as an observatory in the State House yard. This was of circular shape, and about twenty feet high, twelve to fifteen feet square and placed about sixty feet south of the State House.

On the morning of June 3 the sky was cloudless. The transit was observed from this building in the State House yard by Dr. John Ewing, Joseph Shippen, Dr. Hugh Williamson, Thomas Prior, Charles Thomson and James Pearson.

While they were thus engaged, David Rittenhouse, Dr. William Smith, John Sellers and John Lukens noticed the phenomena at Norriton, the home of the celebrated astronomer. Owen Biddle made an observation at Henlopen lighthouse.

Rittenhouse was already a member of the American Philosophical Society and made his observations for that society. He used a telescope and other instruments made by his own hands.

When he observed the contact, and the planet had fairly entered the sun’s disk, his emotions so overpowered him that he sank fainting to the ground, unable to bear the intense feelings of delight which attended the consummation of the long hoped for event. Rising from his exhaustion, he proceeded to measure the distance between the centers of the two bodies at stated intervals during the transit.

The observations of Rittenhouse were received with interest by scientific men everywhere. Subsequently they were found to be nearly accurate and his computations placed him among the greatest of astronomers. The royal astronomer of England bore testimony to their value and another high authority said:

“The first approximately accurate results in the measurements of the spheres were given to the world, not by schooled and salaried astronomers who watched from the magnificent royal observatories of Europe, but by unpaid amateurs and devotees to science in the youthful province of Pennsylvania.”

On November 9 of the same year David Rittenhouse made an observation of the transit of Mercury, which was the fourth ever witnessed. About this time he also determined the difference of the meridians of Norriton and Philadelphia.

David Rittenhouse was without doubt the first inventor of a practical planetarium, erroneously called the “orrery,” an instrument so constructed as to exhibit the movements of the planets around the sun. In theory the idea was not new. Such an instrument had been made for the Earl of Orrery in 1715, but this was a mere toy and gave the movements of only two heavenly bodies.

Rittenhouse determined that he would make an elaborate instrument, based on scientific principles and on the astronomical calculations which he had prepared. After three years of labor, in 1779, the “Rittenhouse orrery” was completed.

This orrery was purchased by Princeton University for £300. The trustees of the College of Philadelphia were offended, but Rittenhouse immediately set to work and constructed a duplicate, which was purchased for the college by the proceeds of a series of lectures on astronomy by Dr. William Smith, provost of the college.

The second orrery was much larger than the original, but was constructed on the same model. This was sold for £400.

David Rittenhouse was elected one of the secretaries of the American Philosophical Society in 1771. He delivered a most elaborate address before the society February 23, 1775, entitled “An Oration on Astronomy.” This address was inscribed and dedicated to the delegates assembled in the Continental Congress. In 1790 he became one of its vice presidents.

On the death of Dr. Franklin he succeeded to the office of president, January, 1791, which office he held until his death, when he was succeeded by Thomas Jefferson.

In 1763 Pontiac’s grand scheme of destroying all the English forts was completed, and it was determined the attack should be made simultaneously on June 4. Henry L. Harvey, in the Erie Observer, gives the following account of the attack on Fort Presqu' Isle.

“The troops had retired to their quarters to procure their morning repast; some had already finished, and were sauntering about the fortress or the shores of the lake. All were joyous, in holiday attire and dreaming of nought but the pleasures of the occasion. A knocking was heard at the gate, and three Indians were announced, in hunting garb, desiring an interview with the commander. Their tale was soon told; they said they belonged to a hunting party which had started to Niagara with a lot of furs; that their canoes were bad, and they would prefer disposing of them here, if they could do so to advantage, and return rather than go farther; that their party was encamped by a small stream west of the fort, about a mile, where they had landed the previous night, and where they wished the commander to go and examine their peltries, as it was difficult to bring them as they wished to embark from where they were if they did not trade.

“The commander, accompanied by a clerk, left the fort with the Indians, charging his lieutenant that none should leave the fort, and none but its inmates be admitted until his return. Well would it probably have been had this order been obeyed. After the lapse of sufficient time for the captain to have visited the encampment of the Indians and return, a party of the latter—variously estimated, but probably about one hundred and fifty—advanced toward the fort, bearing upon their backs what appeared to be large packs of furs, which they informed the lieutenant the captain had purchased and ordered deposited in the fort.

“The stratagem succeeded, and when the party were all within the fort, the work of an instant threw off the packs and the short cloaks which covered their weapons—the whole being fastened by one loop and button at the neck. Resistance at this time was useless or ineffectual, and the work of death was as rapid as savage strength and weapons could make it. The shortened rifles, which had been sawed off for the purpose of concealing them under their cloaks and in the packs of furs, were once discharged, and of what remained the tomahawk and knife were made to do the execution.

“The history of savage war presents not a scene of more heartless or blood-thirsty vengeance than was exhibited on this occasion, and few its equal in horror. The few who were taken prisoners in the fort were doomed to the various tortures devised by savage ingenuity, until, save two individuals, all who awoke to celebrate that day at the fort had passed away to the eternal world.

“Of these two, one was a soldier who had gone into the woods near the fort, and on his return, observing a body of Indians dragging away some prisoners, he escaped and immediately proceeded to Niagara. The other was a female who had taken shelter in a small building below the hill, near the mouth of the creek. Here she remained undiscovered until near night of the fatal day, when she was drawn forth, but her life, for some reason, was spared, and she was made prisoner, and ultimately ransomed and restored to civilized life. She was subsequently married and settled in Canada. From her statement, and the information she obtained during her captivity, corroborated by other sources, this account of the massacre is gathered.

“Others have varied it so far as relates to the result, particularly Thatcher, who, in his Life of Pontiac, says: ‘The officer who commanded at Presqu’ Isle defended himself two days during which time the savages are said to have fired his blockhouse about fifty times, but the soldiers extinguished the flames as often. It was then undermined, and a train laid for an explosion, when a capitulation was proposed and agreed upon, under which a part of the garrison was carried captive to the Northwest. The officer was afterward given up at Detroit.' He does not, however, give any authority for his statements, while most writers concur that all were destroyed.

“The number who escaped from Le Boeuf is variously estimated from three to seven. Their escape was effected through a secret or underground passage, having its outlet in the direction of the swamp adjoining Le Boeuf Lake. Tradition, however, says that of these only one survived to reach a civilized settlement.”

So adroitly was the whole campaign managed that nine of the garrisons received no notice of the design in time to guard against it, and fell an easy conquest to the assailants.

Niagara, Pittsburgh, Ligonier and Bedford were strongly invested, but withstood the attacks until relief arrived from the Eastern settlements. The scattered settlers in their vicinity were generally murdered or forced to flee to the fort. Depredations were committed as far east as Carlisle and Reading, and the whole country was alarmed.

Colonel Bradstreet and Colonel Bouquet attacked the savages everywhere. General Gage directed the movements against the Indians. Bradstreet failed to comprehend the Indian character, but Bouquet conquered the savages everywhere on his route, and so completely defeated them that he was able to dictate terms of peace, and received a large number of persons who had been carried into captivity from Pennsylvania and Virginia. He was hailed as a deliverer by the people and received the thanks of the Governments of Pennsylvania and Virginia.

Governor William Bigler’s administration was universally acceptable to his party, and even his most earnest political opponents found little ground for criticism, but when he came up for re-election two entirely new and unexpected factors confronted him and doomed him to defeat on issues which had no relation to the administration of State affairs. First of these was the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and second, the advent of the secret American, or Know Nothing Party.

The American, or Know Nothing, organization that became such an important political power in 1854, was the culmination of various spasmodic native American organizations beginning in New York, as early as 1835, and extending to Philadelphia and Boston. The original Native American organization of New York was directed wholly against foreigners who held positions on the police force and in other city departments. It came into its greatest power in 1844, when it controlled the entire city government.

The Native Americans carried the fall elections in Philadelphia, in 1844, with material aid from the Whigs, and remained an important element in both City and State politics in Pennsylvania for a number of years.

The name Know Nothing was applied to this organization because the members were ordered to reply to any question in regard to the party or its purposes, “I don’t know.” In the same way “Sam” was nicknamed for that party. This was applied frequently to persons suspected of being members of which it was said they had “seen Sam.”

Chief Justice Black said of the Know Nothings: “They’re like the bee, biggest when it’s born; it will perish as quickly as it rose to power.” Truly a prophecy.

In 1854 the Whig candidate for the office of Mayor, Robert T. Conrad, was supported by the Know Nothings and defeated Richard Vaux by more than 8000 votes. After this the Know Nothing Party declined in strength, and finally what was left of it and the remnant of the Whig organization were absorbed in the Republican Party. After 1856 the Know Nothing party practically disappeared as a general political factor.

The Whigs and Democrats held their regular State conventions early in the year of 1854. Governor Bigler was renominated by the Democrats, and James Pollock was nominated by the Whigs.

Pollock indicated Andrew G. Curtin as the man to take charge of his campaign, and Curtin was made chairman of the Whig State Committee. He entered upon his new duties with the ardor that was always manifested in his public efforts, and everything seemed to be going along smoothly, until he learned that there was a secret organization in the State that embraced a clear majority of the Whig voters and not a few of the Democratic voters.

There were three men of low cunning who had managed to obtain possession of the machinery of the Know Nothing organization and they availed themselves of the peculiar facilities offered by a secret organization to assume autocratic authority.

These three leaders sought out Curtin, and, proving to him that they had it in their power to compute the returns of the Know Nothing lodges and declare for or against any candidate for office, declared their purpose to defeat the Whig candidate for Governor if their wishes were not acceded to. Each of the three men required of Curtin a pledge that three of the most lucrative offices in the gift of the Governor, the inspectorships of Philadelphia, should be given them.

They did not conceal the fact that it made no difference how the Know Nothing lodges voted, they would declare the nomination in favor of or against Pollock, depending upon Curtin’s agreement to their proposition. Curtin deliberated long and had several conferences before he finally acceded to their demands to the extent that he would recommend the appointments they demanded, but that he would not give an unqualified pledge as to the action of the Governor, and that Pollock was to have no knowledge nor was he to be advised of it during the contest.

The entire program was then arranged that the State Council on June 5 should announce as the nominees of the Know Nothing Party James Pollock, Whig, for Governor; Henry S. Mott, Democrat, for Canal Commissioner, and Thomas Bair, Know Nothing Party, for Supreme Judge.

Neither Pollock nor Mott were members of the Know Nothing Party, and both were placed in nomination without their personal knowledge of being candidates of that organization.

Pollock was elected by 37,007 over Bigler; Mott was elected over Darsie by 190,743; and Jeremiah S. Black was elected by 45,535 over Bair, Know NothingNothing, and Smyser, Whig.

As soon as the election was over and Mott realized that he had been given this large majority by the Know Nothing vote, he openly denounced the organization as deliberately guilty of a fraud in making him its candidate, and from that day was the most vindictive opponent of Know Nothingism the State could furnish.

The alleged nomination of Pollock and Mott by the Know Nothing organization was a deliberate fraud upon the Know Nothing people, as was evidenced by the fact that their names were submitted to the various lodges by the State Council as candidates and as members of the order, when, in fact, neither of them was a member, but it mattered little whether the lodges voted for or against Pollock and Mott, there was no power to revise the returns, and they were accepted as candidates without a question and their election assured.

Few knew of the Know Nothing organization. Even Curtin had no conception of its strength and never dreamed of the political revolution that it was about to work out.

The three Know Nothing traders decided that they would accept the position of flour inspector, leather inspector and bark inspector. Curtin literally fulfilled his pledge, stating to the Governor all that had transpired and left the Governor to solve the problem.

The Governor was first determined to appoint none of them, but reconsidered and gave one of them a minor inspectorship of the city. The disappointed Know Nothing leaders had to accept defeat as they had no other way of visiting vengeance upon any one, and their party went to pieces within a year.

A sad incident in the life of John Penn has been told in the story of Tulliallan.^[2] While Richard and Thomas Penn, sons of the founder, were selecting plate they intended to present to the English battleship Admiral Penn, John, the seventeen-year-old son of Richard, accompanied them to the establishment of James Cox, the silversmith.

During this errand John Penn met for the first time Marie Cox, the silversmith’s only daughter, and they fell desperately in love with each other. Many visits were made to the fine Quaker home of James Cox, which annoyed the elder Penn, and remonstrate as he did it proved of no avail. A trip to Gretna Green was made, and John Penn, aged nineteen, and Marie Cox, aged seventeen, were duly made husband and wife.

When Richard Penn, the father, and his brother Thomas were apprised by young John of what he had done, he was locked in his room, and after dark he was taken to the waterfront and placed aboard a ship sailing for the coast of France. He was carried to Paris, and there carefully watched, but supplied with all the money he required.

Temporarily John Penn forgot about his wife, Marie, as he plunged into the gayeties of the French capital. The pace was rapid and he soon became seriously ill, but he grew better and was taken to Geneva to convalesce. There he was followed by agents of his creditors, who threatened him with imprisonment for debt. John wrote his father in London, who turned a deaf ear to the prodigal; not so Uncle Thomas.

Thomas Penn wrote to his nephew that he would save him from a debtor’s cell provided he would divorce his wife and go to Pennsylvania for an indefinite period. John was in an attitude to promise anything, and soon his bills were settled. While awaiting his ship to take him to Philadelphia, the young man went to London for a day to say good-by to his relations.

The ship was delayed several days by a severe storm and as John was strolling up the streets in Cheapside, to his surprise he met his bride, the deserted Marie Cox Penn. He was much in love with her and she was ready to forgive. They spent the balance of that day together and during dinner in a restaurant it was arranged that Marie should follow her husband to America; meanwhile he would provide a home for her under an assumed name, until he became of age, when he would defy his family to again tear them apart.

John Penn arrived in Philadelphia in November, 1752. He evinced but little interest in provincial affairs, except to make a trip into the interior. He was accompanied by a bodyguard, among whom was Peter Allen. Penn took a fancy to the sturdy frontiersman, “a poor relation” of Chief Justice William Allen.

Allen had built a stone house twelve miles west of Harris’ Ferry, which he called “Tulliallan.” This was the outpost of civilization. John Penn selected this place for his bride, and as Peter Allen had three young daughters, Penn soon arranged that Marie should be their teacher.

John Penn dispatched his valet to London to escort Marie to America. She arrived and her husband took her to Peter Allen’s, where she became a great favorite and found the new life agreeable. She assumed the name Maria Warren. That was in 1754.

All went well until the Penns in London learned that Marie Cox Penn had gone to America, and they traced her to “Tulliallan.”

Maria Warren mysteriously disappeared. At the same time went two friendly Indians from that neighborhood.

Early the following summer, John Penn set out for Peter Allen’s, and when he arrived he learned that his wife was gone a fortnight, they knew not how or where.

Accompanied by servants and settlers, Penn hunted the mountains, far and wide, and inquired of all with whom he came in contact, red or white, but no trace of his wife could be found. He never gave up the search until he suffered a nervous collapse, and was sent to his home in England.

In 1763, he returned as Lieutenant Governor, and arrived in Philadelphia October 30. On June 6, 1766, he married Anne, daughter of William Allen, Chief Justice of Pennsylvania.

A few years later he took a trip through the interior. He stopped at Peter Allen’s and there learned that the Indians had carried his beloved Marie a captive to Canada. It was not long after returning that he again started on another expedition up the Susquehanna River.

A stop was made at Fisher’s Stone House, at what is now known as Fisher’s Ferry, below Sunbury. He was given a noisy welcome and he enjoyed these plain frontier people. While seated by the fireplace he heard coughing in an inner room, and inquired of Peter Fisher who it was who was ill.

“It’s an English woman, your Honor,” replied Fisher. “Tell me about her,” said the Governor. Then Fisher related the strange story, telling Penn that it is said he once loved this woman, that she was kidnapped and carried to Canada, that the Indians were paid for keeping her, that she made her escape and walked all the way back, but became ill and could not reach Peter Allen’s, and was now on her deathbed.

Penn insisted on seeing her, and he went into the room. There lay his wife. They were soon in fond embrace and others left them alone in the room. Ten minutes later Penn ran to the door and called, “Come quick, I fear she is going.” The household assembled but in a few minutes Marie Cox Penn was dead. It is said she lies buried there on a hill which overlooks the Susquehanna.

John Penn returned to Philadelphia and took no more trips through the interior of Pennsylvania. He died childless, February 9, 1795. His wife, nee Allen, survived him until 1813.

Early in the year of 1756 Governor Morris commissioned Lieutenant Colonel William Clapham to recruit the “Augusta Regiment” and build Fort Augusta, at Shamokin, now Sunbury. Clapham rendezvoused his troops at Hunter’s Mills, also known as Fort Hunter and then started his march up the river toward Shamokin.

The first camp was established at Armstrong’s, where on June 7 the commander wrote to Governor Morris saying this was the “most convenient place on the river between Harris’ and Shamokin for a magazine on account of its good natural situation above the Juniata Falls, the vast plenty of pine timber at hand, its nearness to Shamokin and a saw within a quarter of a mile.”

The saw was at Armstrong’s place, at the mouth of Armstrong’s Creek. The soldiers cut and squared two hundred logs, each thirty feet in length, and erected the fortification.

During the progress of this work an important Indian conference between Colonel Clapham and the Iroquois was held. The speaker for the Indians was Oghaghradisha, the noted chieftain of that nation. At this conference, held June 10, 1756, the Indians agreed to the building of a fort at Shamokin, but also wanted another fort built three days’ journey in a canoe farther up the North Branch in their branch, called Adjouquay, the mouth of present Lackawanna Creek. The Indians agreed to help build this fort.

Colonel Clapham wrote to Governor Morris from the “Camp at Armstrong’s” on June 20, 1756:

“The progress already made in this fort renders it impracticable for me to comply with the commissioner’s desire to contract it, at which I am more surprised, as I expected every day orders to enlarge it, it being as yet, in my opinion, too small. I shall leave an officer and thirty men, with orders to finish it, when I march from hence, which will be with all possible expedition after the arrival of the blankets, the rum and the money for the payment of the battoe-men, for want of which I am obliged to detain them here in idleness, not thinking it prudent to trust them on another trip for fear of their desertion, which may totally impede the service. I could wish the commissioners would invent some expedient to pay these men without money, or at least without the danger of trusting me with their money, the charge of which I am not ambitious of, or the much envied honor and trouble of expending it. This far is certain, that without such expedient or money we cannot stir.

“I have pursuant to your Honor’s command sent down two Indian Sachems, properly escorted and committed particularly in the care of Mr. Shippen (Edward, of Lancaster), and hope their coming will fully answer the ends proposed by your Honor and your Council. I have found Captain McKee extremely useful, and have sent him also at the Sachem’s particular request.

“The carpenters are still employed in building Battoes and carriages for the canoes, and everybody seems disposed cheerfully to contribute their services toward the public good; if there ever was any prospect or assurance of being paid for it.

“I assure myself, your Honor, will omit no opportunity of extricating me from embarrassments arising from the want of money, both for the Battoe-men and the soldiers; twenty-six of whom being Dutch (German) are now in confinement for mutiny on that very account. I am with all respect your Honor’s obedient servant.

“P. S.—The Fort at this place is without a name till your Honor is pleased to confer one.”

On the 25th of the month the Governor wrote from Philadelphia to Colonel Clapham. “The Fort at Armstrong’s I would have it called Fort Halifax.” This was in honor of the Earl of Halifax.

The exact location of this fort is discernible today, if one will drive along the concrete highway above the present borough of Halifax and turn off toward the river, after crossing the bridge which spans Armstrong’s Run. The covered bridge, near the mouth of the creek is the site of the old Armstrong sawmill to which Colonel Clapham referred. A short distance below are the remains of the foundation of the Armstrong home which was built prior to 1755, and a few hundreds yards below will be seen a small rise in the ground which is also marked with a small square monument. It was on this slight eminence that Fort Halifax was built.

Colonel Clapham, July 1, thanked the Governor for £100, which he distributed to the bateau men, but complained that the sum sent was insufficient. He commented upon the difficulties of conducting so “amphibious” an expedition.

When Colonel Clapham departed from Fort Halifax he left a detail of thirty men, under command of Captain Nathaniel Miles, to whom he gave most explicit instructions, even down to the detail of mounting guard and where the sentries should be stationed about the post, and in event of a surprise attack, just how each one should demean himself.

During the long period in which the provincial soldiers were building the most important Fort Augusta at Shamokin, there was much activity at Fort Halifax.

Ammunition, clothing, food and supplies were all stored there and carried farther up stream in bateaux when conditions permitted such transportation. The garrison usually consisted of thirty to fifty soldiers, under command of a captain. Escorts were furnished from this post in either direction as the urgency of the mission required.

Colonel Clapham was convinced that the garrison at Fort Halifax should never be less than 100 men, so that proper communication between the inhabitants and Fort Augusta could be maintained.

There are no positive records of an attack upon Fort Halifax. U. J. Jones, in his “Story of Simon Girty, the Outlaw,” writes of an Indian attack, led by this notorious Tory, which was successfully repulsed, with heavy loss among the besiegers. However, this is more a story of fiction than history.

In July, 1757, after the completion of Fort Augusta, a petition was presented to the Governor, praying the removal of the garrison from Fort Halifax to Hunter’s, the defense of the former being considered of little importance to the inhabitants south of the mountains. This removal was soon thereafter effected, and Fort Halifax passed into history.

At a court held at Upland, now Chester, “on ye 2d Tuesday, being ye 8th day of ye month of June in ye 32 yeare of his Majesty’s Raigne Anno Dom. 1680,” with Otto Ernest Cock, Israel Helm, Henry Jones and Laurens Cock, as justices, there was a busy session and much business of importance transacted.

James Sandelands sued Hanna Salter for the account due him of two hundred and seven gilders, and the Court ordered judgment to be entered with costs, with stay of execution until the defendant could get in her wheat.

Gunla Andries brought suit against Jonas Nielsen for unlawful possession of some land at Kingsesse. “The debates of both parties being heard, & ye Pattent & former orders of Court examined: The Court Doe confirme the former orders of this Court in that Case made and doe order the Sheriffe to Put the Plt. in Possession of ye Land according to Pattent & ye sd former orders of this Court.”

The Court granted William Clark liberty to take up two hundred acres in Nieshambenies Creek; Peter Cock, Neeles Jonassen, Thomas Fairman, and Henry Jacobs, were granted each a like amount of land.

Moens Staecket, who had been in trouble, was bound over so that in future he would behave himself.

The Court took into consideration the raising of their own salaries, when they ordered each person should “pay yearly one Scipple of wheat or 5 gilders.” According to a former order, they also decreed that those in arrears should be brought before Justice Otto Ernest at Tinicum Island, and those who failed to report there should “be fetched by ye Constable by way of restraynt.”

Richard Noble, the surveyor for Upland County, made a return of surveys having been made for Andrew Boen, William Clayton, Christian Claess, Andrew Homman, William Woodmancy, Peter Nealson and William Orian. Which surveys were approved by the Court and returned to the office in New York, for confirmation by the Governor.

Then came the most important event of the day’s business. It seems that there was complaint about the location of Upland, as it was “att ye Lower End of ye County. The Court therefore for ye most ease of ye people have thought fitt for ye future to sit & meet att ye Town of Kingsesse in ye Schuylkills.”

The site of Kingsesse was probably in the immediate vicinity of the Swedish mill erected by Governor Printz, near the Blue Bell tavern on the Darby road.

Then followed the last action brought before the Court at Upland, it was the case of Gunla Andries and her husband, in a land dispute with the heirs of Peter Andries and Jonas Neelson.

The Court then moved to Kingsesse and its next session was held October 13. The same justices with the addition of George Browne, who qualified at the opening of the court.

Slander suits were the order of the day. That between Claes Cram and Hans Peters is interesting. Cram claimed Peters called him a thief, and two witnesses swore that they heard Peters say that Cram had stolen aboard a ship and in the same manner stole all his riches. The verdict was that since the defendant was not able to prove “what he hath said or any part thereof the Court ordered that ye defendant openly shall declare himself a liar and that he shall further declare ye plaintiff to be an honest man and pay twenty gilders to ye plaintiff for his loss of time, together with the cost of ye suite.”

Hans Jurian declared that Moens Staecket, during September, assaulted and beat him at his own door, followed him into his house, calling him a rogue and a dog and a thousand more names, and moreover threatened to kill Jurian whenever he met him.

One witness swore that he saw the defendant all bloody and he told him Jurian did it, that Staecket later appeared “on horseback and called for his sword, his gun, powder and shot and then rode before Hans Jurian’s door and, calling him, saying you dog, you rogue, come out, I will shoot you a bullet through your head.”

The Court bound both over to keep the peace for one year and six weeks, under penalty of £40 of lawful money of England, to be paid by him that shall first break ye peace. Staecket was also fined 200 gilders; the costs of the case were divided between the litigants.

Later in the same day the same Staecket was defendant in another action brought by the presiding justice, Otto Ernest Cock, complaining that Staecket maliciously defamed and slandered him by calling him a hog thief. The defendant protested that he never knew, heard or saw the plaintiff steal a hog, and that he to his knowledge never said any such thing but that he hath said it, as the witness doth affirm, that it must have been, when he was in his drink, and he humbly desired forgiveness, since he finds himself in a great fault. Staecket was ordered to openly declare that Justice Cock was not a hog thief, and he was fined 1000 gilders.

There were eleven cases tried this day, one, at least, before a jury. Nine petitions were disposed of and the Court issued a written direction for the overseers of the highways. Certainly a busy day in court.

The Court adjourned until second Tuesday of ye month of March next ensuing.