Between the years 1843 and 1844 a spirit of turbulence, riot and disorder seemed prevalent throughout the United States. Philadelphia felt the influence, which first manifested itself in 1834.

On August 12, 1834, a riot took place which was much more serious than any occurrence of that character previously known. A meeting house, near the Wharton Market, was torn down and many colored people assaulted and badly beaten and their houses ransacked.

In October following occurred the Robb’s Row riot, in the Moyamensing district. A row of houses on Christian Street, west of Ninth, was burned by the mob and many persons injured. This disturbance was created by heated political antagonism, and was fought between rival partisans.

Another riot in which the blacks suffered, and many of their houses burned, occurred in July, 1835.

On May 17, 1838, occurred the Pennsylvania Hall riot, during which a large and elegant building dedicated three days before, to the purpose of public discussion by the Pennsylvania Society for the Abolition of Slavery, was broken into, set on fire and totally destroyed.

The Kensington railroad riots took place in 1840, and were a manifestation of opposition to an attempt by the Philadelphia and Trenton Railroad Company to lay their tracks on Front Street, in the business and builtup section of the city. In this disturbance the rails were torn up, houses burned and many persons injured.

Another riot in which Negroes were the victims, took place on August 1, 1842, during which Smith’s Beneficial Hall was destroyed by fire. This building was erected by Stephen Smith, a prominent colored man, to be used for the meetings of the literary and beneficial societies of colored people.

The Negro riots ceased at midnight, but on the next day the Irish laborers in the coal yards on the Schuylkill got mixed up with a band of colored laborers and the ensuing riot required militia to quell it.

Then came the weavers’ riots in Kensington, early in 1843. This was in consequence of disputes in regard to wages.

But the most terrible riots known in the history of Philadelphia took place in 1844, and resulted from political and sectarian prejudices which were aroused into activity by the formation of the Native American Party.

The movement for the organization of this party took place early in 1844. On May 6 a meeting was called, which was intended to be held on an open lot at the southeast corner of Second and Master Streets. Before the proceedings were concluded some difficulty arose between the persons holding the meeting and outsiders, who had gathered on the edge of the crowd, and assumed a rather menacing attitude.

Soon there was an attack made upon those in meeting and with such force that the participants were dispersed. They soon rallied their numbers and proceeded to a market house nearby, on Washington Street above Master. The meeting was reorganized, but the disturbances were as promptly renewed, and at this time firearms were brought into play by the assailants.

This unfortunate affair took place in a locality where the majority of the inhabitants were of the Roman Catholic faith, and although there was nothing to show that the latter were combined for purposes of breaking up the meeting, the feelings of the persons assailed led them to a bitter extremity. They soon obtained firearms and an attack was made on the buildings in the neighborhood. Seven persons were killed. The Native Americans being victors set fire to the houses attacked.

Other outrages were perpetrated and other buildings burned, including a female seminary under charge of the sisters of a religious order.

Troops were called out and quelled the rioting.

The Native Americans celebrated July 4 with a large and showy procession and ended the day’s program of festivities with a grand display of fireworks. All dispersed in good order.

On the evening of July 6 persons were discovered carrying muskets into the church of St. Philip de Neri, on Queen Street. Crowds soon assembled, but a Sheriff’s posse promptly appeared upon the scene.

An unfortunate arrest of a member of the posse, who was kept under military guard in the church through the night, caused a mob on the morning of July 7 to assemble determined to release the prisoner. A cannon loaded with slugs was fired against the rear of the church. Then it was brought to the front, but further trouble was prevented by the citizens and the prisoner was released.

Those in the church marched out and were chased and dispersed. The city was thoroughly excited with these proceedings and the people gathered in great crowds, many intent on destroying the church.

A committee, many of whom were Native Americans, organized to protect the church property and it seemed as if the trouble was at an end. But at this moment the military marched upon the scene, followed by a crowd of Sunday idlers. The soldiers attempted to clear the streets with fixed bayonets, when some one hurled a brick, striking a soldier. The captain gave orders to fire, and two volleys were sent into the crowd of men, women and children. Several were killed and many wounded.

The crowd now procured artillery and small arms and the most sanguinary street battle ensued, which continued through the night of the 7th and the morning of July 8. Two soldiers were killed and many wounded. Seven citizens were killed and several wounded.

The militia were withdrawn, the trouble subsided, and the most serious riot in the history of Philadelphia brought to an end.

During the year 1774 Catherine Smith, widow of Peter Smith, commenced building a large grist mill near the mouth of White Deer Creek, in the present Union County, which she completed the following year.

When Peter Smith died in the fall of 1773, he left his widow and ten children with no estate to support his family, except a location for three hundred acres of land, including the mouth of White Deer Creek, whereon was an excellent mill seat. His widow was of the type who did not sit idly by and let her neighbors help support her family, but realizing that a grist and saw mill were both much wanted in that new country at that time, and being urged to erect these mills, she set about the task.

The widow Smith was able to borrow some money and by June, 1775, she had both mills in operation. They served the inhabitants in the White Deer Valley and for many miles on the east side of the West Branch of the Susquehanna.

During the summer of 1776, there was an urgent demand for rifles for the Continental Army and for the use of the old men and boys who remained at home to protect the women and children from the sudden attacks of the Indians, while they were doing the work about the farm and the fireside. So Catherine Smith installed a boring mill, and the records show that a great number of gun barrels were bored in this mill. She also added a hemp mill.

Her eldest son went to the army and this made her work the heavier, as he was her best help. He was killed in the service.

The Indians became active following the great Wyoming massacre, July 3, 1778, and after Colonel Thomas Hartley had chastised them during his successful expedition in the late autumn of 1778, they again became bolder when the soldiers were withdrawn and the year 1779 was one of the most terrible along the frontier of the Susquehanna Valleys.

Nearly all the inhabitants had left during the “Great Runaway,” in July, 1778, and only the most venturesome had returned. The militia were recruited locally and were under the command of Colonel John Kelly.

In May a band of nearly a score of Indians killed John Sample and wife in White Deer. Christian Van Gundy and Henry Vandyke with four others learned of the murder and went to the scene to bring away any who survived the massacre. Six more men were to follow the next day.

When Van Gundy arrived at Sample’s he had slabs put up against the door and water carried up in the loft. After dark an Indian approached the house, barking like a dog, and rubbing against the door, but no attention was paid to him. The party inside lay down and slept until three o’clock, when Van Gundy got up to light a fire. The Indians surrounded the house, and mounting a log on their shoulders, tried to beat in the door. Those inside fired, wounding two, whom the Indians carried off, but not before they set fire to the house.

Van Gundy mounted the roof, and knocked off enough boards to reach the fire, which he extinguished. An Indian shot him in the leg and one of the others was shot in the face.

At daybreak they voted whether to remain and fight or attempt escape.

Two voted to stay, four to go. On opening the door they discovered the Indian chief lying dead in front of it. Van Grundy secured his rifle and Vandyke his powder horn.

The Indians came from ambush and the men separated. Van Grundy, with his two guns, took into a ravine, and tried to get the others to follow him. They refused. The Indians killed the old people, who were scalped.

Colonel Kelly pursued these Indians and came upon five of them sitting on a log. He placed his men and at a signal four of the Indians were killed at one volley, the fifth escaped.

The Widow Smith’s mills were now the frontier and the only place of refuge, except a small stockade, named Fort Meninger, which was built about eighty rods from the river, on the north bank of White Deer Creek, covering Widow Smith’s mills. The fort was situated west of the mills forming an apex of an irregular triangle of which the mills formed one base, and a small stone house, the home of Widow Smith, the other. This stone house, with a modern addition, is still standing.

The fort and mills were abandoned at the time of the Great Runaway, July, 1778, and the fort and mills were burned by the Indians, July 8, 1779. One man was killed in the attack.

Widow Smith returned to the ruins in 1783, and was urged to rebuild the grist and saw mills, which she accomplished with much difficulty. Ejectments were brought against her by Messrs. Claypoole and Morris, and she did not have the means to support actions at law and lost her improvements.

She petitioned the Legislature, which, of course, could grant no relief under the circumstances and her petition was dismissed. The facts set forth in her petition were certified to by William Blythe, Charles Gillespie, Colonel John Kelly, General James Potter and many prominent citizens of Northumberland County.

She is said to have walked to Philadelphia and back thirteen times in this business.^[4]

How long the litigation continued is not a matter of record, but in 1801, Seth Iredell took possession of the premises as tenant of ClaypooleClaypoole & Morris.

She died there and is buried in the old settlers’ graveyard. Her bones were disturbed when a barn was erected many years later, being identified by a venerable neighbor, by her peculiar protruding teeth.

A few years after this incident a man came to the place, having traveled from Ohio to see the old mill site. He said he was a son of Catherine Smith, and that if justice had been done her, they would still own the place.

A part of the foundation of the second mill, built by Widow Smith, serves the same purpose in a fine modern mill of today.

When soldiers were sent into that vicinity they used the Widow Smith’s stone house. General James Potter, under date of September 18, 1780, says: “I marched the remainder, consisting of 170 men up the West Branch to Fort Swartz. I then went to Colonel Kelly, who lay at the mouth of White Deer Creek, with eighty men.” This was the Widow Smith’s Mill.

General Edward Braddock arrived in March, 1755, at Alexandria, Virginia, and at the head of two Irish regiments, under Colonels Dunbar and Halket, marched to Fredericksburg, Maryland.

This distinguished officer was sent to command an expedition against the French at Fort Duquesne. He commenced his march from Wills Creek, now called Cumberland, Md., June 10, 1755, with 2000 men, regulars and provincials.

Braddock was haughty and egotistical and entertained no doubt of his success. He advised the Governors of Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia, that soon as he captured Fort Duquesne he would leave there the guns, ammunition and stores he captured in it, but if the enemy first destroyed the fort, he would build another.

By forced marches he reached Little Meadows June 18, when 1200 men were chosen to continue the expedition, the balance remained in camp under command of Colonel Dunbar. A halt of two days was made twenty-five miles from their objective, to await reports of the Indian scouts. That was fatal.

On the morning of July 9 the little army forded the Monongahela River and advanced in solid platoons along the southern shore of that stream. Colonel Washington saw the perilous arrangement of the troops after the fashion of European tactics, and he ventured to advise Braddock to disperse his men in open order and employ the Indian mode of fighting in the forests.

The haughty General angrily replied: “What! a provincial colonel teach a British General how to fight!”

The army moved forward, recrossing the river. Meantime the French commander Contrecœur had decided to withdraw, but Captain Beaujeu gained his permission to resist Braddock’s passage at the second ford. Beaujeu’sBeaujeu’s command was reinforced by several hundred savages.

When Captain Beaujeu came in sight of the English they had already crossed the river, and had advanced so that both flanks would be exposed about two hundred yards to an enemy occupying the deep ravines, thick with tangled forest growth and vines.

Braddock marched directly into the worst ambuscade known in American history. Into these ravines the Indians glided while their white comrades blocked the English path in front and the head of the marching column went down under a storm of lead. Shaken for a moment, the vanguard moved against the concentric ring and, after another terrible discharge, returned the fire with such deadly effect that every enemy in sight was swept before it. Beaujeu and dozens of others fell victims.

The Indians turned to flee, but rallied by other French officers, they returned to cover and under their unerring fire the English advance broke and retreated. Mixing with the rear in the narrow path, both became mingled in a mob which Braddock could not restore to order. Huddled in a twelve-foot roadway, shut in by a forest alive with yells and filled with invisible fire, they lost all sense or perception, and twice shot down bodies of their own men who had gained slight vantage points, mistaking their smoke for that of the enemy. Fifty Virginians were thus slain at one blow.

The regulars refused to charge, though Braddock, with four horses successively shot from under him, and other officers strove to hearten them to invade the woods. The Provincials fought Indian fashion from behind trees and fallen logs, but Braddock with furious threats and blows drove them back again into the ranks, where they fell in scores. Washington and Halket both pleaded to have them allowed to leave the ranks and fight the Indians in their own way, but Braddock still refused.

AtAt this point the supply of ammunition failed; the baggage train was attacked; all Braddock’s aides excepting Washington were shot down; three-fourths of the officers and three-fifths of the entire army were killed or wounded, and only then would the ill-judging but heroic Braddock give the signal for retreat. Shortly afterward Braddock received a ball through his lungs, and not one English soldier remained to carry him off the field. He was picked up by one English and two American officers and carried to a spot across the river a half mile distant.

The dying commander tried to rally his troops, by establishing a camp to care for the wounded. Here he waited for Washington to return from Dunbar’s camp, where he had been sent by Braddock. The French and Indians did not follow Braddock across the river, yet the hundred or more English soldiers he had induced to halt there, stole away and fled.

On the 10th the officers who remained with General Braddock marched with him until 10 o’clock at night, when they halted and met the convoy sent by Dunbar. Braddock never ceased to give calm, skillful and humane orders. He reached Dunbar’s camp on the 11th, where the news of his rout had already reached the soldiers under Dunbar, and they were fleeing in wild panic.

Braddock by this time realized that any further attempt to pursue the expedition was futile, and he must have known his wounds were fatal, for he ordered the stores destroyed lest they fall into the enemy’s hands, saving only sufficient for a flying march. He then proceeded with the remnant of his army toward Great Meadows, where he died and was buried in the center of the road. The entire army marched over the spot in order that the remains of the unfortunate general might not be desecrated by the savages. In 1802, his body was reinterred at the foot of a large white oak tree.

After the retreat of Braddock’s army, the savages, unwilling to follow the French in pursuit, fell upon the field and preyed on the rich plunder which lay before them. Three years later (1758) by direction of General Forbes, the remains of many of the slain in Braddock’s army were gathered up and buried.

Of 1460 men in the battle, 456 were killed and 421 wounded; 63 of the 89 commissioned officers, and every field officer, were killed or wounded. The enemy’s casualties were only about sixty.

The entire borders were left defenseless and this defeat was not only a fatal termination of a campaign which had been expected would inflict a decisive blow upon the French and their Indian allies, but it gave the signal to the disaffected Indians to make the frontiers of the Province the scene of a predatory warfare in which every section was severely scourged.

In the decade from 1870 to 1880, Williamsport was the largest lumbering center in the United States. Everywhere Williamsport was known as “The Lumber City.”

It was customary to send gangs into the woods in winter to cut down the trees, saw them into logs and pile them on the banks of small streams and afterward, when the water was at flood height in the spring, to roll them into the streams whence they floated down the river to Williamsport, where they were caught in the big boom and rafted to the various mills to be sawed and manufactured into lumber.

After the men were through their work in the woods it was customary to bring them to Williamsport and place them in the mills to help saw up the logs. As the season was short and it was important to clean up the work of sawing before the next winter, the mills operated twelve hours a day.

The “sawdust war,” as it was called, was a strike on the part of the workmen in the mills for a ten-hour day instead of twelve. There was no question of wages involved, and the principal advocates for the change were men who were not employed in the lumber industry, but were simply labor agitators.

The move for the ten-hour day began in June, 1872, and was characterized by frequent public meetings at which the speakers urged the men to go on strike. This finally culminated in a large number of men walking out, July 1, 1872, and adopting as their slogan, “ten-hour day or no sawdust.”

The strike reached to Lock Haven, where the men followed the lead of their Williamsport fellow-workmen.

Many of the mills were compelled to shut down on account of a depleted force until July 10, when an attempt was made to start up the mills, but without success. This precipitated the “Sawdust War.”

Parades and marches were held every day, the strikers going to the several mills and endeavoring to induce the workers still on the job to quit. Meetings were held every night. Thomas H. Greevy, by reason of being secretary of the local union and secretary of the State Labor Organization, was a prominent figure and always addressed these meetings.

After the strike had been in progress for a few weeks some of the men were induced to go back to work, but others, who were not willing to return, interfered, when a number of breaches of the peace took place.

The marches to the mills finally resulted in assaults being made upon the loyal workmen, and several attacks were made on mill owners on the streets of the city. These assaults finally became so frequent and so serious that Mayor S. W. Starkweather and Samuel Van Buskirk, sheriff of the county, called upon Governor John W. Geary for militia to be sent to Williamsport.

This request was complied with, and on July 22 troops were ordered to the city. They arrived the next day, July 23, and consisted of the following units: City Grays, Harrisburg, Captain Thomas Maloney; City Zouaves, Harrisburg, Captain Robert V. Vaughn; Middletown Zouaves, Middletown, Captain James Stanley; Washington Zouaves, Lebanon, Captain B. Y. Hean; Coleman Guards, Lebanon, Captain J. P. S. Gobin; City Grays, Williamsport, Captain A. H. Stead; Taylor Guards, Williamsport, Captain John H. White.

Williamsport was placed under martial law. On the same day, July 23, Thomas H. Greevy, James M. Birmingham, A. J. Whitten, Thomas F. Blake, Henry Crook and Alem Tate were arrested on charge of inciting to riot and at a hearing on July 25, before the City Recorder, were held in $10,000 bail for their appearance at the September term of court. Bail was promptly furnished, but an hour later Greevy was rearrested and $15,000 additional bail demanded. As other charges were pending, the men were taken to jail to await trial. On July 27 motion was made for a writ of habeas corpus and reduction of the amount of bail, which, on July 29, was refused by the court.

Subsequent arrests were made on the same charge and all held for the next term of court, but those above mentioned were the principals. On July 31 all defendants were released on bail.

On July 25 the troops on duty in the city went into camp at Herdic Park under command of Brigadier General Jesse Merrill, of Lock Haven. On July 27 the troops were reinforced by the Packer Guards, Sunbury; Sanderson Guards, Mill Hall; Langlon Fencibles, Shamokin. On July 30 five companies on duty were relieved and sent home. The others were relieved a few days later.

At the September term of court for Lycoming County, on September 7, all the twenty-nine defendants were brought to trial before Judge James Gamble. James M. Birmingham, Thomas H. Greevy, A. J. Whitten, Thomas H. Blake, Patrick Conlin, Jacob Wolf, Timothy Shannon, Jr., Henry Crook, Patrick Dugan, Louis Plant, Michael Eustice, John Benway, William Iam, Daniel McMullen, David Deauchamp, Thomas Hackett, Joseph Ludget, James Spulong, James Sladen, John Bezel and Joseph Shear were found guilty and sentenced to jail for periods of thirty, sixty and ninety days, pay a fine of one dollar and the costs of prosecution, except James M. Birmingham, A. J. Whitten, Thomas H. Greevy and Thomas F. Blake, who, because they were outsiders and in no way connected with the lumber industry, were sentenced to one year in the penitentiary and costs of the prosecution.

They were sentenced on September 14; and on September 16 Peter Herdic who was then one of the leading and most influential men in the State, went to Harrisburg and induced Governor Geary to pardon them all.

The parties soon after left Williamsport, and except for two of them, all other records are lost. James M. Birmingham became a prominent citizen of Kansas City, Mo., as did his son. Thomas H. Greevy removed to Altoona, and became a prominent citizen of the State.

Greevy was engaged in journalism and edited the Labor Reform Journal of Williamsport. He also held important offices in the local and State organizations.

The first labor convention in Pennsylvania was held at Danville, in 1871, and Greevy was elected secretary, a position he held at the time of the Sawdust War. John Siney, of Schuylkill County, was State president.

After taking up his residence in Altoona, Mr. Greevy studied law, was admitted to the bar and since has become one of the leading attorneys of the State. He is a prominent adviser of the Democratic State Committee, and was a candidate for Lieutenant Governor. In every walk of life he is one of the leading citizens of the country.

Great Island, situated on the West Branch of the Susquehanna River, a short distance east of Lock Haven and opposite the mouth of Bald Eagle Creek, was a favorite camping place and council grounds for the Indians. An Indian village was situated on this island, which is frequently mentioned in the early records of the Province.

In the year 1745 David Brainerd, a missionary stationed at Shamokin, tells in his journal of a journey which he took up the West Branch. In this he speaks of extending his journey to Great Island and of the sufferings he endured.

In the summer of 1748 David Zeisberger and John Martin Mack made a missionary trip up the West Branch for the purpose of visiting the Indians, who were undergoing terrible hardships as a result of a famine. On July 11, 1748, two days after their start from Shamokin, we find the following entry in Mack’s journal:

“July 11. Toward evening reached Great Island and found Indians at home residing on this side of the island. They asked us whence we came and whether we had ought to sell. When told that we were not traders, but had only come to visit them, it was incomprehensible to them. But a few old squaws were living on the island; the men had been driven away by famine. We consequently remained on this side of the island and asked an Indian whether we could lodge in his hut. He took us in cordially and spread a bear skin for us to sleep on, but he had nothing for us to eat. Ascertained that he was a Five Nation Indian and his wife a Shawnese. Whereupon Brother Zeisberger conversed with him. His father, who is upward of seventy years, was dying of smallpox and was a most pitiful object. His care and that of the Indians here enlisted our sympathies and silent prayers.

“In the evening we were visited by a number of Indians—Shawnese and Cayugas. Here dwell in three houses Shawnese, Maquas and Delaware; among the latter an Indian from Albany, who spoke Low Dutch. In all three houses were cases of smallpox. In one hut hung a kettle in which grass was being stewed, which they ate with avidity.

“July 12. Brother Zeisberger learned from our host that many Indians passed and repassed his hut. Today he brought out some dried venison and gave us some, and we in turn gave his child some of our bread, for which they were very thankful.

“In the afternoon told our host we desired to visit the island to see the Indians there, and he, unasked, went with us, and led us to all the huts.

“We found some clever people here who had just returned from the woods and who shared with us grapes, green and hard, which they ate with avidity. We prayed silently to the Lord to have mercy on this people.

“Returned to our lodgings, and our host again asked us why we had come so far and had we not come in search of land? He said there was fine land in the neighborhood. We explained that was not our object.

“July 13. We found an opportunity to speak to our host of the Saviour. He had heard somewhat of God, and said he believed what we had told him was good and true. He then gave us some dried venison and we in turn some needles and thread to his wife.

“Set out on our return down the Susquehanna. At night camped on a large flat by a creek, ate some mouldy bread, the last of our stock and built four fires to keep off the vermin.”

In the year 1758 Christian Frederic Post, another Moravian missionary, was sent by the Government of Pennsylvania to the Delaware, Shawnee and Mingo Indians settled on the Ohio. In his journal under the date of July 29 we find the following entry:

“29th. We crossed the Susquehanna over the Big Island. My companions were now very fearful and this night went a great way out of the road, to sleep without fire, but could not sleep on account of the mosquitoes and vermin.”

On his return from his mission under the date of September 18, he records:

“Came to the Big Island, where having nothing to live on, we were obliged to stay and hunt.

“19th. We met twenty warriors, who were returning from the habitations with five prisoners and one scalp; six of them were Delaware and the rest Mingo. We sat down all in one ring together. I informed them where I had been and what was done; they asked me to go back a little and so I did, and slept all night with them. I informed them of the particulars of the peace proposed; they said if they had known so much before they would not have gone to war. They killed two deer and gave us one.”

Post’s mission had been undertaken with the object of making peace with the Indians, for, following Braddock’s disastrous campaign against Fort Duquesne, the Indians had attacked the settlements, and the entire West Branch Valley as far down as Sunbury was in complete control of the French and their Indian allies.

In 1755 Andrew Montour, who had been employed on various occasions as interpreter for the province, and who at this time was captain of a company of Indians in the English service, following an attack upon settlers on Penn’s Creek, in which a number of the settlers were killed, was summoned to the Great Island by the friendly Delaware living there. Here he was informed that the French had made overtures to the Indians to go on the war path against the English settlers in Pennsylvania.

In November these Indians also sent word that two messengers had come from Ohio to Great Island; and seeing an Englishman who happened to be there at the time, said “Kill him.” “No,” said the Indians of the Great Island, “we will not kill him nor suffer him to be killed. We have lived in peace many years with the English; if you are so bloodthirsty go somewhere else for blood. We will have no blood spilt here.”

At this period as well as at the time of Post’s mission, three years later, Great Island was being visited by both French and English in their desires to secure the Indians as their allies. It was at this period also that the Governor of the Province of Pennsylvania issued a proclamation which encouraged the whites to scalp the Indians by the offer of a bounty for every Indian scalp brought in.

Feelings of animosity against people of color had been manifested in Philadelphia for several years, and were again brought forth conspicuously through a most unfortunate circumstance July 12, 1835.

Robert E. Stewart, a prominent citizen of Philadelphia, who had been United States Consul to Trinidad, resided on the east side of Sixth Street, between Prune and Walnut.

He had in his service an African boy, called Juan, who was a native of the Eboe nation, the representatives of which bore the character of being vindictive, revengeful and easily moved to anger. Juan had been brought to the United States from the West Indies by Mr. Stewart.

For some reason not known Juan determined to take the life of his master. The attack was made upon Mr. Stewart while he was sleeping in the afternoon in his chamber. The butt end of a hatchet was used in a shocking manner upon his head. He was frightfully mutilated and injured, and it was supposed that he could never recover. He died several years afterward.

The brutal attack upon Stewart was made July 12. A statement of the circumstances in the newspapers of the next day created intense excitement, and soon as the story was read crowds began to assemble, and by evening a large crowd had gathered in the neighborhood of Sixth and Locust Streets.

By this time the city authorities had learned something from the events of former years, when the racial hatred had caused many fatal clashes, and a large body of watchmen and police were dispatched to that section of the city.

Crowds began to join those already in that neighborhood, and they were made up of men and half-grown boys, usually in an angry mood. The citizens soon dispersed about the neighborhood, talking together, in small groups.

The presence of the police rendered any outburst impossible so they carried their destructive propensities into an adjoining district, and there commenced an attack upon houses occupied by colored people in Small Street between Sixth and Seventh. The inmates were beaten and put to flight, and their furniture destroyed.

From that place their ravages were resumed upon the colored residents in Seventh and Shippen Streets. Thence the destruction was transferred to “Red Row”—a block of eight houses on Eighth Street below Shippen.

The mob here made a discrimination. All the young colored men who could be found were brutally assaulted, because the colored youth were generally saucy and impudent, but the old men and women of color were not molested or in any manner injured.

During the proceedings “Red Row” was set on fire and all the houses destroyed. The mob had now become so infuriated that they were unrestrained even by the presence of police, and from the burning homes in “Red Row” they proceeded to Christian and Ninth Streets, where several brick and frame houses occupied by colored people were attacked.

Several of those houses were defended by the owners, and others who had sought refuge in them. Several shots were fired from behind doors and windows, and two persons in the mob were wounded. By the time the houses were finally entered the residents had escaped.

The houses in flames in “Red Row” had brought the firemen to the scene, but when they set up their apparatus, they were opposed by the mob. The hose was cut and no water could be brought into play. The firemen, however, fought their way and succeeded in saving from total destruction all the houses, except the one in which the fire was started. The mob became even more determined and attacked houses which had been passed by at the beginning of the attack.

By these occurrences the colored people in the lower part of the city were frightened to a degree of terror which had not affected them in previous years.

On the day after this riot hundreds of families moved out of the neighborhood, or, locking up their houses, sought refuge where they could find it. Numbers of men, women and children bivouacked in the woods and fields, and not a few fugitives were given shelter in barns and outbuildings.

On Tuesday evening, July 14, crowds again began to assemble in the vicinity of Sixth and South Streets, on the rumor that a house on St. Mary Street was garrisoned by armed Negroes.

The mob proceeded to this house and upon their arrival found that the statement was true. Fifty or sixty colored men were in the building, armed with knives, razors, bludgeons and pistols, besides a great stock of bricks and paving stones, which were stored on the third floor, where they could be hurled with effect upon an attacking party. These men were desperate and were rendered savage by the occurrences of the two previous days.

The city police force was promptly upon the scene and prepared to prevent the assault intended to be made by the whites upon the house. The police, at the same time, had the difficult task of getting the colored men away from the building in safety. This they were able to do.

With this attack frustrated, the trouble was finally quieted and there were no further racial disturbances.

The county of Westmoreland was established by the Provincial Assembly, February 26, 1773, and the courts directed to be held at Hannastown. This was the first place west of the Allegheny Mountains where justice was dispensed according to the legal forms by the white man.

Hannastown contained about thirty habitations and a few crude cabins. Most of the former were two stories high and built of hewn logs. There was also a wooden court house, a jail and a stockade, both built of logs.

Robert Hanna, the first presiding Judge, was a member of the family from whom the town derived its name. Arthur St. Clair, afterward the distinguished general in the Continental Army, was the first prothonotary and clerk of the courts.

On the morning of July 13, 1782, a party of townsfolk went to O'Connor’s fields, about a mile north of the village, to cut wheat. The reapers had completed one field when one of their number reported that he had seen a number of Indians approaching. Every one rushed for town, each intent upon his own safety, each seeking his own wife and children, to hurry them into the stockade.

After a period of frightful suspense, it was agreed that some one should reconnoiter and relieve the balance from uncertainty. David Shaw, James Brison and two other young men, armed with rifles, started on foot through the highlands between the fort and Crabtree Creek, pursuing a direct course toward O'Conner’s fields.

An officer who had been on duty in the town pursued a more circuitous route on horseback, and no sooner arrived at the fields than he beheld the whole force of the savages there assembled. He turned his horse to escape, but was followed. He met the four others who were on foot and warned them to fly for their lives.

The four young men were hotly pursued by the Indians, who did not fire upon them, for they expected to take the inhabitants by a surprise attack. Shaw rushed into the town to learn if his kindred had gone into the fort. As he reached his father’s threshold he saw all within desolate and, as he turned, discovered the savages rushing toward him with their brandished tomahawks, and yelling the fearful warwhoop. He counted upon making one give the death halloo, and raising his rifle, the bullet sped true, for the savage at whom he aimed bounded in the air and fell dead. Shaw then darted for the fort, which he reached in safety.

The Indians were exasperated when they found the village deserted, pillaged the houses and then set them on fire.

An Indian who had donned a military coat of one of the inhabitants and paraded himself in the open was shot down. Except this one and the Indian killed by Shaw, it is not believed any others were killed.

Only fourteen or fifteen rifles were in the fort, and but few of the men of military experience, as a company had been recruited there but a short time before and marched away with Lochry’s ill-fated campaign, leaving not more than a score of men in the village. A maiden, Janet Shaw, and a child were killed in the fort.

Soon after the Indians had set fire to the buildings of the village some of them were observed to break away from the main body and go towards Miller’s Station.

Unfortunately there had been a wedding at that place the day before and many guests were still at the scene of the festivities. Among them was John Brownlee, known along the frontier for his courage in scouting against the savage marauder. The bridal party was in the midst of their happy games, when, like a lightning flash, came the dreaded warwhoop.

Those in the cabins and the men in the fields made their escape. In the house, where all was merriment, the scene was instantly changed by the cries of women and children mingled with the yell of the savage. Few escaped.

Among those who got away are two incidents of intense interest. A man was carrying his child and assisting his aged mother in the flight, the savages were gaining on them, the son and father put down and abandoned the child, the better to assist his mother. The next morning the father returned to his cabin and found his little innocent curled up in his bed, sound asleep, the only human thing left amidst the desolation.

The other incident occurred when a powerful young man grasped a child, who stood near him and made his escape, reaching a rye field and taking advantage of some large bushes, he mounted a fence and leaped far into the tall rye, where he lay down with the child. He heard the quick tread of the savages as they rushed by and their slower steps as they returned, voicing their disappointment.

The wedding party were made prisoners, including the bride and groom, and several of the Miller family.

When the Indians were all assembled and the prisoners secured, the latter were loaded with plunder and the march commenced. They had proceeded less than a mile when one of the Indians recognized Brownlee and communicated it to the others. As he stooped to readjust the child on his back, who he carried in addition to the luggage they had put on him, an Indian buried a tomahawk in his head. When he fell the child was killed by the same Indian.

One woman screamed at the sight of this butchery and the same tomahawk ended her agony. These bodies were found next day and decently buried.

At nightfall thirty men assembled and determined to give succor to those in the fort. They armed themselves and hastened with great caution, knowing that if the Indians intended to attack the fort at dawn that they had retired to the low land at Crabtree Creek.

Fifty rifles were too few to attack 300 Indians and sixty white savages, so they put in action strategy which won. They mounted all the horses they had and trotted back and forth across a bridge of plank, near the stockade, two drums and a fife completed the deception that re-enforcements were arriving in great numbers. The ruse had the desired effect. The cowardly Indians, fearing the retribution they deserved, stealthily fled during the night.

The prisoners were surrendered by the Indians to the British and taken to Canada. After the peace eighty-three prisoners who survived were freed and returned to their homes.