In September, 1737, occurred the so-called “Walking Purchase,” by which there passed from the lands of the Delaware Indians into those of the Proprietaries, the upper portion of Bucks County, a large slice of Carbon County, and one-fourth each of Monroe and Pike counties, an area of 1200 square miles. The “walk” upon which the purchase was made was a deception and as a consequence caused trouble for the Proprietaries for many years.

The lands at the “Forks” of the Delaware were still in the occupancy of the Delaware in 1741, although the Six Nations had ordered the Delaware to remove to the Susquehanna.

In October, 1741, a Cayuga deputation returned to their county from Philadelphia bearing with them to the “Long House” of the Six Nations a message from the Lieutenant Governor urging the Six Nations “to come down and force the Delaware to quit the 'Forks’.”

In response to this appeal 230 Indians from the Six Nations, including the principal chiefs and sachems, arrived at Philadelphia June 30, 1742, and found awaiting them a number of Pennsylvania Indians, including Shikellamy, the vicegerent of the Six Nations; Allummapees, King of the Delaware, also from Shamokin, and a large delegation from the Forks of the Susquehanna, representing the different clans. All the tribes of the Six Nations were represented except the Mohawk.

In a message to the Provincial Assembly, Governor Thomas stated the coming of the Six Nations at this time “was not necessary for the present peace of the province, but for the province’s future security, likewise, in case of a rupture with the French, who will leave no methods unessayed to corrupt the Six Nations’ fidelity and to persuade them to turn their arms against us.” At this time declaration of war between England and France was daily expected.

The conference between the Governor and the Council on the one side and the Six Nations on the other lasted until July 12, during which time eight sessions were held. The Council opened in the house of James Logan, then met at “the Great Meeting House,” where the last meeting was held in the presence of “a great number of the inhabitants of Philadelphia.” Conrad Weiser was present as interpreter for the Government and the Six Nations and Cornelius Spring and Nicholas Scull appeared for the Delaware.

In opening the conference the Governor referred to the fact that the Six Nations, at the time they had released their claim to all the lands on both sides of the Susquehanna as far north as the Kittatinny Mountains, had declined to take their pay for the lands on the west side of the river, preferring to receive the same at some future time. He then announced that the goods to be given in payment for those lands were ready for delivery to the Indians.

In reply to the Governor, Canassatego, chief of the Onondaga and principal speaker of the Indians at the conference, said, among other things: “The Six Nations have obligated themselves to sell none of the land that falls within the province of Pennsylvania to any but our Brother Onas, and that to sell lands to any other is an high breach of the league of friendship.”

The Governor replied that they were correct in their position.

On the seventh day the Governor referred to the trouble with the “Forks” Indians, to which Canassatego replied that the deputies would take the matter into consideration and give an answer in a few days. Three days later Canassatego arose and said:

“The other day you informed us of the misbehavior of our Cousins the Delawares, with respect to their continuing to claim and refusing to remove from some land on the Delaware notwithstanding their ancestors had sold it by deed upwards of fifty years ago, and notwithstanding they themselves had about five years ago ratified that deed and given a fresh one. We have concluded to remove them and oblige them to go over the river Delaware and to quit all claim to any lands on this side for the future, since they have received pay for them and it has gone through their guts long ago.”

Then turning toward the Delaware and holding a belt of wampum in his hand, Canassatego continued: “Cousins—Let this belt of wampum serve to chastise you. You ought to be taken by the hair of the head and shaked severely till you recover your senses and become sober. You don’t know what ground you stand on, nor what you are doing. Our Brother Onas’ case is very just and plain * * * on the other hand your cause is bad.

“But how came you to take upon you to sell land at all? We conquered you! We made women of you! You know you are women and can no more sell land than women. Nor is it fit you should have the power of selling lands, since you would abuse it.” The old chief concluded his cutting arraignment as follows:

“We don’t give you the liberty to think about it. You are women. Take the advice of a wise man and remove immediately. We therefore assign you two places to go—either to Wyoming or Shamokin. You may go to either of these places and then we shall have you more under our eye and shall see how you behave. Don’t deliberate, but remove away and take this belt of wampum.”

The old chief handed them the wampum and told the Delaware that, as there was other business to transact, they should depart from the council. There was no diplomatic mincing of words in the speech of the Onondaga chief. He spoke with the air of one having authority. This speech scattered seed which in time caused more bloodshed in peaceful Pennsylvania than the “Walking Purchase” ever did.

In 1815, John Watson, of Bucks County, wrote of this speech: “When this terrible sentence was ended, it is said that the unfeeling political philosopher (Canassatego) walked forward, and, taking strong hold of the long hair of King Nutimus, of the Delaware, led him to the door and forcibly sent him out of the room, and stood there while all the trembling inferiors followed him. He then walked back to his place like another Cato, and calmly proceeded to another subject as if nothing had happened. The poor fellows (Nutimus and his company), in great and silent grief, went directly home, collected their families and goods, and, burning their cabins to signify they were never to return, marched reluctantly to their new homes.”

Leaving their wigwams on the banks of their favorite Delaware, the once powerful Lenni Lenape commenced their march westward. A portion went to Shamokin, a few settled on the Juniata, near Lewistown, but the greater part of them, under their chief Tadame, went to Wyoming.

The Battle of Gettysburg, July 1, 2 and 3, 1863, marked the high tide of the Civil War. Here General Robert E. Lee hoped to win a victory which would compel the withdrawal of Union troops from other parts of the country, secure recognition of the Confederacy by foreign Governments, carry panic into the North and furnish supplies for his hungry troops.

Fresh from his brilliant victory at Chancellorsville, he moved north until his van was within sight of Harrisburg, and there, learning that General George G. Meade was in close pursuit, Lee turned his army to meet him, and Gettysburg became the scene of the decisive battle.

The battle of Gettysburg was the bloodiest of the Civil War and the most terrible battle in the world’s history previous to the World’s War, and probably greater than any single action in that gigantic conflict.

The Union losses in the three days’ battle were 23,000, and the Confederate losses were probably as high in killed, wounded, captured and missing, as 29,000.

At Gettysburg was concentrated Lee’s magnificent and confident army of Confederate troops, which had invaded Pennsylvania through the Cumberland Valley, and was then on its way to Philadelphia, and then to Baltimore and Washington. The advance of Ewell’s corps marched as far as Wrightsville, seventy-five miles from Philadelphia, or only four days’ march and had watered their horses in the Susquehanna River. There the mile-long Columbia-Wrightsville bridge was burned to prevent the rebels from crossing the river.

The concentration of his forces at Gettysburg was forced upon General Lee by the rapid movement of General Hooker with the Federal army, who hurried northward, as soon as Washington was uncovered, to intercept the invading host, and so to loosen the grip it had upon the fair valleys, rich with ripe grain and teeming with money, horses, cattle, clothing, shoes and provisions. Curiously, the Southern army came into Gettysburg from the North and the Northern army came in from the South.

Lee’s army was in fine condition and Hooker’s was recently reorganized into a great machine. The two armies were well matched. Each had approximately 80,000 men, including 10,000 cavalry to each; the Union had 327 pieces of artillery, and the Southern army only forty less pieces. The main difference was in commanders, for the Federal army had at Gettysburg, a new and untried commander, General Meade, who only three days before the battle had superseded General Hooker, and had with him two new corps commanders, Sykes and Newton, while the Confederate army under Lee had their able and accomplished Longstreet as well as the competent A. P. Hill and renowned Ewell in command of their three corps.

Excluding the ground of the great cavalry fight between Gregg and Stuart on the afternoon of July 3, on the Rommel farm three miles east of Gettysburg, where for hours these skillful generals fought for possession of the field in the immediate rear of the Union army, the area of the battlefield was about twenty square miles.

Lee’s intention had been to have Stuart’s cavalry strike the Union army from the rear the same moment Pickett was carrying the line in the front. The first skirmish in the great battle occurred June 27, when part of Early’s command, on their way to the Susquehanna, drove the Twenty-fifth Pennsylvania Emergency Regiment out of the borough.

On June 30, Buford’s cavalrymen, reconnoitering out on the Cashtown road, one of the seven prominent roads which converge at Gettysburg, ran into some of Pettigrew’s infantry and in the evening of that day, Colonel Gamble stationed his pickets along Marsh Creek.

Early in the following morning, July 1, Pettigrew’s Division advanced toward the town, and at Willoughby Run, with his whole brigade dismounted, Gamble held back the Confederates for two hours. Buford had advised General John F. Reynolds of this expected encounter; he placed the first division of his First Army Corps upon the road, and he then hurried forward the few miles to meet General Buford.

The two rode out the Cashtown Pike, where a conference was held at 9 o’clock. Reynolds then hurried back to his advancing troops to spur them forward and as he was leading the foremost regiment into the woods he was struck in the head and instantly killed. So passed away the greatest soldier in the Army of the Potomac.

An hour later Archer’s Brigade was captured by the Federals near Willoughby Run. Then followed two hours’ lull, during which the Confederates were preparing their lines to sweep the Union troops off Seminary Ridge. General Doubleday skillfully met this attack by throwing his two Pennsylvania brigades (of the Third Division, First Corps) into the front line, Biddle’s on the north of the woods and Stone’s on the south, both in open ground; the Second Division to the woods on the road toward Carlisle.

For three hours these fresh troops received the assaults of the enemy ten times their number, and when night came it was learned that Doubleday’s Corps had been reduced from 9403 officers and men to 2400, the 150th Pennsylvania Volunteers out of 380 men and seventeen officers brought back eighty men and only one officer not wounded. The 121st, 142d, 143d, 149th and 151st Pennsylvania all lost quite as heavily.

While the First Corps was thus engaged, General Howard with the Eleventh Corps came down the Emmetsburg road onto the field. Three divisions were started for Oak Hill, that they might hold it against Ewell’s Corps, coming back from near Harrisburg. Unfortunately the enemy had already seized the hill and Howard was forced into the open, but his two divisions were skillfully placed, and for two hours he sustained an unequal and hopeless fight, being forced back to Cemetery Hill, just as Doubleday had been, and at about the same time.

Among the incidents of the first day’s fight was the appearance on the field of John Burns, citizen, who came out from town dressed in a swallow tail coat with brass buttons on it, wearing a tall hat and his pockets full of powder and balls and a musket which he had used in the Mexican War. He approached the firing line, where Major Thomas Chamberlin, of the 150th Pennsylvania Volunteers was standing, and begged to be allowed to fight with that regiment. While discussing the matter, he was advised to go into the woods and fight from behind a tree, which the old man did, receiving three wounds, for which Pennsylvania has erected to his memory a handsome statue, located on the ground where the 150th fought.

One civilian killed was Jennie Wade, eighteen years old, who was struck by a stray shot as she was baking bread in her home.

During the night of July 1 the two army commanders hurried up their troops to Gettysburg, but it was on the night of July 2 before the last of Sedgwick’s Sixth Corps and the last of Longstreet’s First Corps came into position. Meantime, at Hanover Junction, twelve miles east of Gettysburg, Kilpatrick was fighting Stuart, and, having whipped him and forced the enemy cavalry around to the left and rear of the Confederate Army, he took his position on the west of the Emmetsburg road, a mile and a half from Peach Orchard, on the left flank of the Union Army.

On July 2 General Daniel E. Sickles, with his Third Corps, came up. He was assigned to a position on the “left of Hancock,” and occupied the Emmetsburg road as far as the Peach Orchard, throwing his left toward Round Top. He was hardly in position before Longstreet enveloped the Union line, where, for five hours, from 3 until 8 o’clock, the battle raged furiously, the scene changing from the Peach Orchard to the Wheatfield and from there to the valley between Round Top and back again to the Devil’s Den and again back to the Wheatfield.

The interposition of Sickles’ corps between the Confederate Army and Round Top was what Longstreet least desired, for he intended to make a vigorous attack upon that strategic position, but the Union forces obtained the eminence just as the enemy was ascending the western slope.

In the desperate struggle for Little Round Top four Union generals were killed. On the Wheatfield two colonels were killed, and near the Peach Orchard General Sickles lost his leg.

In the second day’s fight Hood was wounded, but, minus a leg and an arm, he commanded the Western Confederate Army and fought Sherman near Atlanta.

The Confederate forces had pushed the Federal line back half a mile, but had failed to seize either Big or Little Round Top, and each side had suffered frightfully in killed and wounded.

When Longstreet opened his battle behind Cemetery Hill and Culp’s Hill it was expected that Ewell would attack the Union lines in front. He did not hear Longstreet’s guns and failed to attack until 7 o’clock in the evening, when, supported by numerous guns in a hot artillery fire, the Louisiana Tigers and North Carolina brigade of Early’s division stormed East Cemetery Hill, carrying everything before them, even to clubbing Wiedrich’s artillerymen in their hastily thrown up intrenchments. But Carroll’s brigade of infantrymen was back of the guns across the Baltimore pike, and this brigade Hancock personally led against the foe, with the result that the Union guns and positions were saved and the Louisiana Tigers as an organization went out of existence.

Ewell, failing to win East Cemetery Hill, at 7 o’clock pushed Johnson’s troops against the enemy on the east side of Culp’s Hill, and, after an hour’s fighting, gained a lodgment in part of the works of the Twelfth Corps, which had been vacated by troops called to aid in defending the line on the extreme left against the attack of Longstreet.

Johnson’s troops pushed their advance by 9 o’clock as far as the Baltimore road; but on account of darkness and fearful of being led into a trap, did not go farther. In this contest the Confederates secured Spangler’s Spring, but all through the long night boys of both sides filled their canteens at the gurgling fountain.

At daybreak on the morning of July 3 General Slocum, of the Twelfth Corps, made a successful attempt to drive the Confederates from the Union breastworks they had gained the previous night, and for six hours the woods howled with shot and shell, as this was one of the most desperate battles. Slowly, but surely, foot by foot, the Union troops advanced until the breastworks were wrested from the enemy, who was forced back across Rock Creek. This ended the Battle of Gettysburg, so far as Ewell’s and Slocum’s corps of the two sides were considered.

From 10 until 1 there was an ominous silence over the whole field in both armies. Then came the shot and shell from 150 Confederate guns posted along Seminary Ridge, directed upon the center of the Union line, and immediately 150 guns on the Union side responded, and for nearly two hours the earth trembled.

General Hunt ordered the Federal pieces to cease firing to cool off, while he replaced disabled guns with fresh ones and replenished his supply of ammunition for the assault which was sure to come.

Lee thought the Union guns were silenced from exhaustion and promptly gave orders for 15,000 of Longstreet’s and A. P. Hill’s choicest troops to force the Federal line. Pickett was in front with his 5500 men, and bravely they marched on and on when the charge commenced. From there it was a rush, until on and beyond the stone wall, at the Angle, both sides mingled in wildest disorder, shooting and clubbing each other in a hand-to-hand struggle that seemed to have no end. One by one the Confederates threw down their arms and sought retreat.

Of Pickett’s 5500 men, 224 had been killed, 1140 wounded and 1499 surrendered. Out of fifteen Confederate flags, twelve were left with the Federals, only three with the few brave troops making their way back to the Southland.

On this third day of the battle General Hancock was carried off the field badly wounded.

While Pickett was making his charge, Stuart, with the Rebel cavalry, endeavored to break the Union line in the center of the rear, but there he met General David McMurtrie Gregg, of Berks county, in command of the Union cavalry, and was defeated in the most important cavalry battle of the war.

All night long after the battle, Lee pushed his trains to the river through Fairfield Gap, and on July 4 he commenced to move his army; by the 14th he had carried it safely across the Potomac into Virginia.

Gettysburg was a drawn battle, yet, strange to state, was the decisive battle of the war and was treated by both sides and by the world as a great Union victory. The Gettysburg campaign was the last of several incursions upon Northern soil. Lee was afterward on the defensive.

While all the Northern states contributed their courage and manhood, Gettysburg, in its location, its leadership, and its incidents, was essentially a Pennsylvania battle.

The year 1778 brought great distress and fear to the frontier generally, but particularly to Wyoming. The defeat and surrender of Burgoyne, at Saratoga, in October, 1777, had left the British without sufficient available force in America to carry on a regular campaign for this year, and as the war was to be continued, the only resource left to the British commanders was to employ the Indians and Tories almost exclusively in carrying on a war of desolation on the frontier.

Late in June Colonel John Butler, with his own Tory rangers, a detachment of Sir John Johnson’s Royal Greens, and a large body of Indians, chiefly Seneca, descended the Susquehanna. This force numbered about 400 British and Tories, and 700 Indians.

At Fort Jenkins, the uppermost in the valley, were gathered the families of John Jenkins, Hardings, Gardners and others. This fort capitulated July 2, to a force under Captain Caldwell. Four defenders were killed and three taken prisoners.

Wintermoot’s Fort was one mile below Fort Jenkins, with a view, as afterward appeared, to aiding the Tories. Soon as the enemy appeared Wintermoot’s Fort at once threw open its gates, and here the British and Tories assembled.

There were several stockades at Wyoming, but no other means of defense than small arms. No one of the forts was able to hold out an hour against such a force as the enemy mustered. Some of the old men formed themselves into companies to garrison these forts and yield such protection as they could.

Colonel Zebulon Butler happened to be home from the Continental Army, and assumed command of the settlers. History does not record an instance of more courage displayed or more gallant devotion. There was no alternative but to fight and conquer, or die, for to retreat with their families was impossible.

On July 3 they marched out to meet the enemy. Colonel Butler commanded the right wing, aided by Major Garrett. Colonel Dennison commanded the left, assisted by Lieutenant Colonel George Dorrance. The field of fight was a plain only partly cleared. Opposed to Colonel Zebulon Butler, of Wyoming, was Colonel John Butler, with his Tory rangers, in their green uniforms.

It was between 4 and 5 o’clock when the engagement began, but the enemy outnumbered the defenders nearly three to one, and they were soon able to outflank them, especially on the left, where was a swamp exactly suited for savage warfare.

The Wyoming men fell rapidly, and it became impossible to maintain the position. Colonel Dennison gave an order to fall back, so as to present a better front to the enemy, but the command was mistaken as a signal for retreat.

The fiendish enemy sprang forward, raised horrid yells, rushed in with tomahawk and spear, and slaughtered the Americans.

There are related many instances of personal and heroic bravery on part of both officers and men. They deserved a better fate, but the battle was lost.

Then followed the most dreadful massacre in the annals of Pennsylvania—the most heart-rending tortures. The brave soldiers were slaughtered without mercy, principally in the flight, and after surrendering themselves prisoners of war.

Prisoners taken under solemn promise of quarter were gathered together, and placed in circles. Sixteen men were arranged around one large stone, since known as the bloody rock. Surrounded by a body of powerful Indians, Queen Esther Montour, a fury in the form of a woman, assumed the office of executioner, and with the death maul or tomahawk, she passed round the circle and dashed out the brains of each prisoner.

Three strong men named Hammond, Lebbens and Joseph Elliott escaped by a desperate effort. In another similar ring nine persons were slain in the same manner. Many were shot swimming the river and hunted out and killed in their hiding places. Only sixty of those who went into the battle survived. The forts were filled with widows and orphans. It is said that 150 widows and six orphans were the result of the battle.^[3]

About two-thirds of those who went out fell. Naked, panting and bloody, a few who had escaped, rushed into Wilkes-Barre Fort where they told the dreadful news that all was lost. Mr. Hollenback, who swam the river amid the shots of the enemy, was the first to spread the appalling news. They fled to the mountains and down the river. Their sufferings were terrible, and they were almost famished for want of bread. In one party of nearly a hundred there was but a single man.

In Forty Fort they heard the firing distinctly, and their spirits were high, until they learned the dreadful news. The first fugitives reached the fort in the evening, and then a few others arrived during the night. Colonel Dennison also came in, and rallied the little band for defense. He succeeded the next day in entering into a capitulation for the settlement with Colonel John Butler, by which doubtless many lives were saved.

The enemy marched in, six abreast, the British and Tories at the northern gate, the Indians at the southern. On paper the terms of capitulation were fair, but the Indians immediately began to rob and burn, plunder and destroy. Even when appealed to, Tory Butler did not put a stop to it. But the Indians did not take life within the fort, only confined themselves to wanton plunder and insult.

When night fell the blaze of twenty dwellings lighted up the valley. In almost every house and field the murderous work was performed.

When the moon rose, the terrified survivors of the massacre fled to the Poconos and beyond to Stroudsburg. In the morasses of the dreadful wilderness many women and children perished, these places are still called “Shades of Death.”

In a few days Colonel Butler led the chief part of his army away, but the Indians continued in the valley burning and plundering, until nearly every building was consumed and it was clearly shown that the articles of capitulation afforded no security.

Soon after the battle Captain Spalding, with a company from Stroudsburg, took possession of the desolate valley, and rebuilt the fort at Wilkes-Barre. Colonel Thomas Hartley marched from Fort Muncy, on the West Branch, along the Sheshequin trail up into what is now Bradford County, and burned the Indian villages at Wyalusing, Sheshequin and Tioga, and cut off a part of the enemy who were taking a boat-load of plunder from Wyoming.

Continental Congress was confronted with a serious situation when it convened in the early winter of 1775.

John Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, continued to be one of the most important members. He was placed on the committee to correspond with foreign Powers and was intrusted with the framing of the Articles of Confederation.

The majority of Congress were now determined to destroy the authority of the British King, and, although Dickinson held the Pennsylvania delegation, with the exception of Benjamin Franklin, to his own views, the progress of events changed the public sentiment in the province. Many were to be found who, while they regretted the cruel necessity, were now ready to give up the name Englishmen. The Assembly sensed this growing feeling and at length released the delegates from former instruction and left the matter to their own judgment.

A committee with John Dickinson, the author of the Farmer’s Letters, at its head, reported:

“The happiness of these Colonies has during the whole course of this fatal controversy been our first wish; their reconciliation with Great Britain our next. Ardently have we prayed for the accomplishment of both. But if we must renounce the one or the other we humbly trust in the mercies of the Supreme Governor of the universe that we shall not stand condemned before His throne if our choice is determined by the overruling law of self-preservation which His divine wisdom has thought proper to implant in the hearts of His creatures.”

Congress now resolved itself into a committee of the whole on the question of independence. Many of the illustrious members of Congress advocated it with great warmth, principally John Adams, of Massachusetts; R. R. Livingstone, of New York, and Edward Rutledge, of South Carolina, while James Wilson, of Pennsylvania, joined with John Dickinson in opposing it.

Wilson avowed, that notwithstanding the recall of the instructions against independence by the Assembly, his own sentiments remained the same. Dickinson declared that America could be wisely governed by the King and Parliament, not as independent, but as subject States. He believed the restraining power of the King and Parliament was indispensable to protect the Colonies from disunion and civil war. The debate was adjourned until July 1, and when Congress again took up the question James Wilson had turned for independence.

Adams led the debate in favor, and Dickinson on the side opposing it. The time had not come for independence; he feared disunion among the Colonies. He pointed out that foreign aid would not be obtained without success in battle. He believed the Colonies ought at least have agreed upon the terms of their own confederation, as had been begun, and it would have been well to have fixed the bounds of each colony. Dickinson’s argument was sound and proved he had a correct grasp on public affairs, for even after the long war for independence the Colonies were divided.

Pennsylvania had been maintaining a border war with Virginia for the possession of the lands west of the Allegheny Mountains, and another and more serious war with Connecticut because of the conflicting or misunderstood boundaries.

New York had a similar dispute with Connecticut and New Hampshire, the latter contesting the region which has since become the State of Vermont. Further trouble was also to be expected as population pushed toward the West, the older colonies claiming under their original charters as far as the Pacific Ocean.

In committee, when Richard Henry Lee’s resolution declaring independence was up for vote, Dickinson, Morris, Willing and Humphreys voted against it, making a majority of the delegation from Pennsylvania, but every other colony, excepting Delaware, voted in favor of the resolution. Franklin, Wilson and Morton voted in favor of independence.

As far-seeing a man as John Dickinson was, he could not fully comprehend the idea of a separate existence of the Colonies from the mother country, and yet no purer patriot breathed the air of freedom. A zealous advocate of liberty, it was his words that startled the Colonies and struck the keynote which aroused the energies of the provincialists and made them contend for independence. NotwithstandingNotwithstanding his overcautiousness, the declaration having been determined on, Dickinson entered heartily into its support and took an active part in all the affairs transpiring in the Colonies—even wielding his sword in the cause.

On July 2, 1776, the resolution being reported by the Committee of the Whole, came before the House. Dickinson and Morris made no further opposition, but by absenting themselves allowed the Keystone State, which Pennsylvania’s population and geographical position made her, to be put into the national arch then being erected.

John Morton is credited with casting the decisive vote. He felt the great responsibility and with it odium which he incurred in the locality which he lived. His health broke and he died the following year. From his deathbed he sent this protest to the friends who had turned from him: “Tell them they will live to see the hour when they shall acknowledge my signing of the Declaration of Independence to have been the most glorious service that I ever rendered my country.”

Pending the consideration of this important question of independence, a committee, consisting of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman and R. R. Livingstone, was appointed to prepare a Declaration of Independence. Jefferson and Adams were named a subcommittee, and the original draft of this eloquent manifesto was made by Jefferson. It was adopted by the committee without amendment and reported to Congress on June 28.

On July 4, having received some alterations, it was sanctioned by the vote of every Colony. Of the Pennsylvania delegation, Dickinson and Morris were absent when the vote was taken; Franklin, Wilson and Morton voted for, and Willing and Humphreys voted against it.

The great massacre at Wyoming occurred on July 3, 1778, and as the news passed down the North Branch of the Susquehanna and spread over the hills and valleys leading to the West Branch Valley it caused a general stampede, a wild, precipitate flight of the settlers from the upper region which has ever since been known as the “Great Runaway.”

The history of Pennsylvania has failed to record any flight of its inhabitants, either in numbers or the harrowing details of its movement, comparable with this catastrophe.

Within two days following the massacre the news had penetrated the entire North Branch Valley and had reached as far up the West Branch Valley as Fort Antes, now Jersey Shore.

On July 9 Colonel Samuel Hunter, the county lieutenant and commandant of the garrison at Fort Augusta (Sunbury), wrote to the Governor:

“Nothing but a firm reliance upon Divine Providence and the virtue of our neighbors induces the few to stand that remain; and if they are not speedily re-enforced they must give way; but will have this consolation, that they have stood in defense of their liberty and country as long as they could. In justice to this county (Northumberland) I must bear testimony that the States never applied to it for men in vain.

“I am sure the State must know that we have reduced ourselves to our present feeble condition by our readiness to turn out upon all occasions when called for in defense of the common cause. Should we now fall for want of assistance, let the neighboring counties reconcile themselves, if they can, the breach of brotherly love, charity and every other virtue which adorns and advances the human species above the brute creation. I will not attempt to point out the particular cruelties or barbarities that have been practiced on our unhappy inhabitants, but assure you that for the number history affords no instance of more heathenish cruelty or savage barbarity than has been exhibited in this county.”

Colonel Matthew Smith wrote from Paxtang July 12 that he “had just arrived at Harris’ Ferry and beheld the greatest scenes of distress I ever saw. It was crowded with people who had come down the river, leaving everything.”

If the distress was the worst this old patriot ever beheld, it was truly a sad scene, for Colonel Smith had suffered in both the French and Indian and Revolutionary Wars. He was in command of a company in the Arnold expedition to Quebec, when the troops for long months experienced nothing but suffering and distress.

On the same day Peter DeHaven wrote from Hummelstown: “This day there were twenty or thirty passed through this town from Buffalo Valley (Union County) and Sunbury, and the people inform me that there are 200 wagons on the road coming down.”

Another letter, written by William Maclay, later the first United States Senator from Pennsylvania, dated Paxtang, July 12: “I left Sunbury and almost my whole property on Wednesday last. I will not trouble you with a recital of the inconveniences I suffered while I brought my family by water to this place. I never in my life saw such scenes of distress. The river and roads leading down it were covered with men, women and children flying for their lives. In short, Northumberland County is broken up.

“Colonel Hunter only remained, using his utmost endeavors to rally the inhabitants to make a stand. I left him with a few—I cannot speak confidently as to numbers—but he had not 100 men on whom he could depend. Mrs. Hunter came down with me. As he is now disencumbered of his family, I am convinced he will do everything that can be expected from a brave and determined man. Something in the way of charity ought to be done for the miserable objects that crowd the banks of this river, especially those who fled from Wyoming. You know I did not use to love them, but I now sincerely pity their distress.”

Colonel Hunter the same day sent a most pathetic appeal to the president of the Supreme Executive Council, dated Fort Augusta, July 12:

“The calamities so long dreaded and of which you have been more than once informed must fall upon this country, if not assisted by Continental troops or the militia of the neighboring counties. At this date the towns of Sunbury and Northumberland are the frontiers where a few virtuous inhabitants and fugitives seem determined to stand, though doubtful whether tomorrow’s sun shall rise on them free men, captives or in eternity.”

Robert Covenhoven wrote: “I took my own family safely to Sunbury, and came back in a keel-boat to secure my furniture. Just as I rounded a point above Derrstown (now Lewisburg) I met the whole convoy from all the forts above. Such a sight I never saw in all my life. Boats, canoes, hogtroughs, rafts, hastily made of dry sticks, every sort of floating article had been put in requisition, and was crowded with women, children and plunder. There were several hundred people in all.

“Whenever an obstruction occurred at any shoal or ripple, the women would leap out into the water and put their shoulders to the boat or raft, and launch it again into deep water. The men of the settlement came down in single file, on each side of the river to guard the women and children. The whole convoy arrived safely at Sunbury, leaving the entire range of farms along the West Branch to the ravages of the Indians.”

Several persons are known to have been killed by the Indians during the “Great Runaway,” but it remains a most remarkable fact that almost the entire population moved from the settlements and for several days were in the open along the river and yet but few were killed.

In answer to the appeal from Colonel Hunter and those who really knew the situation, Colonel Daniel Brodhead with his Eighth Regiment, then on a march to Fort Pitt, was suddenly ordered to the West Branch. He arrived at Fort Muncy, July 24.

Colonel Thomas Hartley, with a small regiment, was ordered to the Susquehanna and arrived at Fort Augusta August 1, and marched to the relief of Colonel Brodhead at Fort Muncy, reaching there a week later.

Colonel Hartley was the master of the situation and using the good advice of General Potter, Colonel John Kelly, Colonel Samuel Hunter and others, who knew how to fight Indians, led a successful expedition against them, which allowed the more venturesome of the settlers to return to their fields and reap their harvests.

The founder of the German religious society of Seventh Day Baptists at Ephrata was Reverend John Conrad Beissel, who died there July 6, 1768.

Beissel was born in Eberbach, Germany, in 1690, learned the trade of a baker, and came to America in 1720. He embraced the religious views of Alexander Mock, lived as a recluse for several years and at different points, and finally located on the banks of the Cocalico Creek in Lancaster County, February 4, 1732. Here he continued to live as a hermit and advocated the doctrine of celibacy and the seventh day of the week as the proper day of rest and religious worship.

He was well versed in New Testament theology; possessed a commanding appearance, a fluent talker, and in most respects was well calculated to gather around him a large class of both sexes.

He was soon joined in his new home by Martin Brener, Samuel Eckerline, and another whose religious name was “Brother Jethro.” These were soon followed by Anna and Maria Eicher, from the Conestoga Church, two of Beissel’s former converts, who could not endure the pangs of separation from their spiritual teacher.

This nucleus of a church was joined in 1733 by Israel and Gabriel Eckerline, and in the following year by a large number from Oley and Coventry, in Chester County, as well as a large congregation of Germans who came from Schoharie County, N. Y., and placed themselves under the spiritual guidance of Beissel. Soon the congregation at Falkner Swamp joined them and Beissel had suddenly become the teacher of a large settlement named Lager, meaning an encampment, but the name of which was subsequently changed to Ephrata, by which the place is still known.

Peter Miller came to America in 1730, and soon became pastor of a small Reformed congregation at Tulpehocken. He was a classical scholar and a good theologian, and after an interview with Beissel, he became one of his apostles, casting his lot with the Brotherhood of Ephrata.

Within five years the people of this religious community had accumulated a large area of landed property which was held as common stock.

Soon after the founding of this society the monastic system was inaugurated, and Beissel invested with the title of father, and assumed the name of “Friedsam,” to which was added the suffix “Gottrecht,” together meaning Peaceable, God-right.

The first building erected under the monastic system, in 1735, was on “Mount Zion,” and named Kedar. It contained one principal room for religious worship, love-feasts, and the ceremony of feet-washing. Besides this there were other rooms, very small, for the use of the brethren and sisters, those of the latter being in the upper story. Another building larger in dimensions, and called “Zion,” was built on the same hill in 1738. These, as well as several buildings of a later erection, were covered with shingles on the roof and outside walls, and remain thus covered to the present time.

In the year 1740 there were in the Ephrata cloisters thirty-six single brethren and thirty-five sisters; and at one time in later years, when the society was at the height of its prosperity, the whole congregation, including those living outside the principal buildings, but in the immediate neighborhood, numbered about three hundred.

The buildings in this cloister afforded but rude and poor accommodations to the inmates. With ceilings barely seven feet in height, passages so narrow that two persons could not pass each other in them, with very low and narrow doors, swinging on wooden hinges and fastened by wooden latches, with cells hardly large enough to hold a cot, and each having only the light and ventilation afforded by a single window, eighteen by twenty-four inches in size, and containing only the most indispensable articles of furniture, and that of the rudest description, these houses were certainly anything else than abodes of luxury for those who inhabited them.

It is stated that the brethren slept on wooden benches, with wooden blocks for pillows. Probably the dormitories of the sisters were a little better furnished in that particular.

In each cell was an hour-glass, and the walls were covered with German text passages of scripture, and verses of original poetry by Beissel.

These people wore a cowl and gown of white—linen in summer, woolen in winter. The cowl of the sisters differed but little from that of the brethren. The difference between monk and nun could scarcely be discovered at a little distance. Both sexes went barefooted, except in extreme weather. They lived on food of the plainest kind, consisting almost entirely of bread, vegetables, and mush. No animal food was on their tables, and even butter, cheese, and milk were discountenanced.

All their vessels for communion and ordinary drinking purposes, also their trays, plates and other articles for table service, and even their candle-sticks, were of wood, and manufactured by the brethren.

In the beginning of Ephrata the plow was drawn by the brethren, ranged in a long line on each side of a rope, and even the sisters often assisted in this labor. But in a short time oxen and horses were procured to perform this work.

A paper mill was built and paper manufactured for use on their own printing presses, which had been introduced as early as 1742, the first book being printed for Israel Eckerline in 1744. Many very fine publications came from these presses.

A saw mill, a flour mill, a fulling mill, and a mill for making oil from flaxseed were put in operation. All these served the outside community and the workmen were renowned for scrupulous honesty.

Singing schools were begun in 1742 and a Sabbath school was started as early as 1740. This was the first Sabbath School in America. The building for the latter was used in the fall of 1777 as a hospital for the wounded from the Battle of Brandywine.

After more than forty years of spiritual leadership Beissel died in 1768, and Peter Miller succeeded him, but the society steadily declined, until the year 1875, when disputes divided them into two factions, and consequently into legal entanglements and the effect of the community as a religious enterprise became inconsequential.