How long Molly stood by her gun, through the smoke and din of battle, on that hot and terrible day, is not a matter of record, but the water she carried to those soldiers and the service she rendered with the battery has been testified to by many whom she helped.
Molly was no imaginary heroine, but a real buxom lass, a strong, sturdy, courageous woman. Her name belongs on the roll of the world’s heroines, and some years ago the State of New Jersey honored “Molly Pitcher” by commemorating her heroic act on one of the five tablets surrounding the base of the beautiful monument erected at Freehold on the historic field.
Some years after the death of her first husband, Sergeant John Casper Hays, she married George McKolly, another soldier and a comrade of Hays, and she then became known as Molly McKolly. This name was also written “McAuley,” and “McCauley” while on her tombstone it was inscribed “McCauly.”
At the entrance to the grounds where until recently was the Carlisle Indian School, formerly for many years United States barracks, still stands the old stone guard house, which was built by the Hessian prisoners taken at the Battle of Trenton, and which escaped the fire when the barracks were burned by the Confederates in 1863.
At that post Molly lived for many years after the Revolutionary War, cooking and washing for the soldiers. Subsequently she kept a small store in the town proper, but the latter years of her life were lived in a stone house, where she died on Sunday, January 22, 1832. She attended the Lutheran Church and was respected by her neighbors.
On July 4, 1876, a marble headstone was unveiled over her grave, which had been erected by Peter Spohr, who knew her well and was present at her funeral. On this occasion an eloquent and interesting address was delivered by Captain Joseph G. Vale, a veteran officer of the Civil War.
William Penn, founder of Pennsylvania and one of the most distinguished members of the Society of Friends, or Quakers, a preacher and writer, was born in London, October 14, 1644.
His father was Admiral Sir William Penn, of the English Royal Navy, and his mother was Margaret Jasper, a remarkable Dutch lady, of Rotterdam.
While the Admiral was off on the seas, his wife and little son resided on one of his estates at Wanstead in Essex.
William Penn went to school at Chigwell, near by, where he was apparently under influences largely Puritan. At the age of eleven strong religious conviction came suddenly upon him.
His boyhood days were lived during the Protectorate. The Admiral, after receiving honors and riches from Cromwell, had so timed his change of loyalty as to gather in a good share of the rewards distributed at the time of the Restoration.
He was in a condition to send his son to the most aristocratic of Oxford Colleges, and at the age of fifteen, William Penn became a “Gentleman Commoner of Christ Church.”
Through the preaching of Thomas Loe he became a convert to the doctrine of the Quakers. The results were not exactly Quakerly, however, for in company with a friend, he forcibly tore from the backs of fellow students the “popish rags,” as surplices were called by the zealous Puritans of the day.
For this he left college, whether by the action of the authorities or not does not clearly appear.
He went to his home and announced himself a Quaker. His father intended him for a high career in the state, and no news could have been more unwelcome than this. His father turned him out of the house. The mother reconciled them, and the youth was sent to France, with a hope that gay society in Paris might redeem him from his almost morbid soberness.
Penn entered partially into the circle of fashion; thence he went to Naumur, the Protestant college, where he laid the foundation of that extensive knowledge of patristic literature so much in evidence in his future writings; thence to Italy, where he received a letter from his father calling him home.
On his return, in 1664, in compliance with the wishes of his father, he became a student of law.
The great fire in London, in 1665, drove him from the city and deepened his serious convictions.
He was sent by his father to manage his large Irish estates. He joined the expedition to put down an insurrection in Carrickfergus, and procured for himself a suit of armor, in which he seems to have been painted. His martial ardor was of short duration.
Thomas Loe again crossed his path in Cork and Penn became a Quaker never more to falter. He was soon imprisoned with his fellows, and this was the beginning of many and severe confinements which lasted at intervals through his life.
His father again drove him from his house. In time they were reconciled and the Admiral on his deathbed endorsed the course of his son.
Penn began immediately to preach and to enter into the theological controversy of his time. He was soon arrested and confined in the Tower nine months, during which he wrote his principal work, entitled “No Cross, No Crown.”
Penn was again arrested for preaching in the streets of London, and at his trial the jury declared him not guilty, but the court determined to convict him, ordered the jury to bring in a verdict of guilty. They refused and were fined and sent to Newgate Prison.
On his release from prison Penn made a trip to Holland and Germany, preaching the gospel.
He took advantage of a little surcease from jails to marry, in his 28th year, Gulielma Maria Springett, daughter of Sir William Springett, a woman of great beauty and sweetness.
A declaration of indulgence for dissenters issued by Charles II, in 1672, now made his life easier, and with an ample estate, he settled at Rickmansworth, in Hertfordshire. He was active for a few years in preaching and wrote much.
In 1675 his thoughts were first seriously turned to America. Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret, who had received from the Duke of York the promise of New Jersey, sold the western half to two Quakers, John Fenwick and Edward Byllinge.
The new purchasers had some difficulty between themselves in the settlement of their respective claims and asked William Penn to arbitrate the matter. Penn decided in favor of Byllinge, who soon afterwards became embarrassed and transferred to Penn and two others his interest for the benefit of his creditors.
West New Jersey was opened for sale and the persecuted Quakers found there a haven of rest.
Penn wrote to Richard Hartshorne, a settler whom he appointed his agent, “We lay a foundation for after ages to understand their liberty as men and Christians, that they may not be brought in bondage but by their own consent; for we put the power in the people.”
The colony prospered greatly under the management of Penn and his friends.
In company with George Fox, Robert Barclay and others, in 1677, Penn paid a religious visit to Holland and Germany. Here he made a convert of the Princess Elizabeth Palatine, granddaughter of James I, a woman of great intelligence, learning and spirituality, who became a devoted adherent and correspondent.
More important, historically, however, he began that acquaintance with the Rhine Valley which resulted in a great emigration of its inhabitants to his future province of Pennsylvania, in the following century.
His journal of this trip is among his printed works.
When he returned he found persecution breaking out anew, many of his friends in jail and their estates confiscated.
Penn published a plea for liberty, even for Papists—a sentiment which, in that day, required no small courage—and gave rise to a report, from which he afterward suffered greatly, that he was a Jesuit in disguise.
He enjoyed great favor at court, and his influence was exerted for the aid of his suffering brethren, and his advocacy of his favorite doctrine of universal toleration.
The rest of William Penn’s life belongs largely to the history of Pennsylvania.
The conspiracy fomented by Pontiac, the Ottawa chieftain, was unmasked at Detroit on May 6, 1763, and then began the war which continued until late in the summer of 1764.
Fort Sandusky was captured by the Indians May 16, 1763; Fort Ouatanon (now Lafayette, Ind.), May 31; Fort Presqu’ Isle (now Erie County, Pa.), June 17; Fort Le Boeuf (in Erie County), June 18; Fort Venango (in Venango County, Pa.), June 18 and the military posts at Carlisle and Bedford, Pa., on the same day.
On June 22 a large body of Indians surrounded Fort Pitt and opened fire on all sides, but were easily repulsed. The Seneca were the only Indians of the Six Nations in alliance with Pontiac.
The report which reached Philadelphia the second week in July, 1763, revealed a most alarming situation on the frontier.
Through the efforts of the Reverend John Elder the able-bodied men of the Paxtang region in Lancaster County were soon organized into a mounted military battalion of several companies, under the name of the “Paxtang Rangers” or “Paxtang Boys,” with Elder as colonel in command.
“Swift on foot, excellent horsemen, good shots, skillful in pursuit or escape, dexterous as scouts and expert in maneuvering,” the “Paxtang Boys” became the terror of the Indians. And yet, during the summer and early autumn of that year numerous depredations and murders were committed by Indians in the counties of Lancaster and Northampton.
On Sunday, August 7, Captain Andrew Montour arrived at Fort Augusta from up the West Branch and informed Colonel James Burd that Forts Pitt and Ligonier had been captured by the Indians. Later this news was learned to be false, but the loss of Presqu’ Isle, Le Boeuf and Venango was a fact.
Colonel John Elder wrote Governor Hamilton, requesting that his command be allowed “to destroy the immense quantity of corn left by the New England men at Wyoming which, if not consumed, will be a considerable magazine to the enemy and enable them with more ease to distress the inhabitants, etc.” The Governor in his reply stated that he had no objection to their scouting as far as Wyoming.
On October 13 Major Asher Clayton, with a force of eighty soldiers from Lancaster County, arrived at Fort Augusta, en route to Wyoming. There he was joined by Lieutenant Samuel Hunter and twenty-four men of the garrison, and the combined force departed Saturday the 15th for Wyoming.
Two companies of the Reverend Elder’s command set out from Fort Hunter on the 11th destined for the same place, and “to intercept the murdering party on their return to Northampton.”
This “murdering party” referred to by Colonel Elder was a band of hostile Delaware led by Tedyuskung’s son, Captain Bull, and concerning whose depredations Governor Hamilton sent a message to the Provincial Assembly on October 15, in these words:
“Within a few days past I have received well-attested accounts of many barbarous and shocking murders and other depredations having been committed by Indians on inhabitants of Northampton County, in consequence whereof great numbers of those who escaped the rage of the enemy have already deserted, and are daily deserting their habitations; so that, unless some effectual aid can be speedily granted them, to induce them to stand their ground, it is difficult to say where these desertions will stop, or to how small a distance from the capital our frontier may be reduced.”
Captain Bull, who headed this war party of Western Delaware in these incursions, had spent ten years among these Indians west of the Ohio River. He was thoroughly familiar with their sentiments toward the English.
The first intimation of the presence of hostile Indians was on October 8, 1763, when before daybreak, Captain Bull attacked the house of John Stenton, on the road from Bethlehem to Fort Allen, where Captain Wetherhold and a squad of soldiers were lodging for the night. Wetherhold and several others of the whites were wounded and three were killed.
A day or two later Yost’s mill, about eleven miles from Bethlehem, was destroyed, and the people there cut off. Altogether twenty-three persons were killed and many wounded, and these depredations committed within a few miles of Captain Bull’s ancestral home.
On Saturday, October 15, the self-same day that Major Clayton’s expedition set out from Fort Augusta for Wyoming, the settlers of Mill Creek, in Wyoming Valley, were busily engaged in their various occupations at different places unaware of danger and unprepared for disaster.
Captain Bull and his warriors to the number of 135 swooped down on the settlers and death, desperation and destruction quickly followed. Eighteen or more were killed, including many persons of importance. The scene was terrible.
The settlers who heard the gun shots and war whoops of the Indians fled in great haste to the mountains. At night time the torch was applied and soon the homes of the settlers were masses of ruins.
The settlers who escaped death tramped back to Connecticut, and Wyoming was, in very truth, deserted and forsaken.
Major Clayton arrived soon after this massacre, but did not remain, and returned to Fort Augusta. An extract from a letter written by a soldier says:
“Our party under Major Asher Clayton is returned from Wyoming, where we met with no Indians, but found the New Englanders who had been killed and scalped a day or two before we got there. We buried the dead—nine men and a woman—who had been most cruelly butchered.
“The woman was roasted, and had two hinges in her hands—supposed to be put in red hot—and several of the men had awls thrust in their eyes, and spears, arrows, pitchforks, etc., sticking in their bodies.
“They (Clayton’s troops) burnt what houses the Indians had left, and destroyed a quantity of Indian corn. The enemy’s tracks were up the river toward Wyalusing.”
Many writers have expressed different opinions about this massacre. Some thought it to have been done by the Delaware who believed the Connecticut settlers killed their king Tedyuskung; some believe it to have been done by Six Nations, who thought the whites had assassinated the Delaware king; but others believe there is not sufficient ground for supposing it to have been done by friends of Tedyuskung, even though the hostile party was led by his son, Captain Bull.
Whoever was to blame, or whoever committed the bloodthirsty deed, matters not, but the fact remains that the Delaware Indians were treacherous and none of them more so than King Tedyuskung and his sons, especially Captain Bull, the perpetrator of this horrible massacre.
The year 1755 was anything but one of promise for the EnglishEnglish colonies in America. The French were aggressively pushing their domain from Canada southward toward the Mississippi Valley, and what was more alarming to the English was the effort of the French to gain a foothold in the region of the Allegheny Mountains, in what is now Western Pennsylvania.
Three great rivers virtually determined the strategic situation of the territory involved between these two great nations. The Hudson River Valley was held by the English, the Susquehanna River Valley by the Six Nations of the great Indian Confederation and the Allegheny River Valley by French, along the banks of which a chain of French forts had been erected. Fort Duquesne, at the forks of the Ohio and Monongahela Rivers, where Pittsburgh now stands, was the principal defense of that valley.
In the spring of 1755 the expedition was fitted out which made the ill-fated march against Fort Duquesne and resulted in the defeat of General Edward Braddock, July 9.
This defeat was a terrible disaster and left the frontiers of Pennsylvania threatened with ruin by victorious French and their savage allies, who pressed through the passes of the Blue Mountains on the heels of the fleeing British regulars.
The main body of the French encamped on the Susquehanna River near where the borough of Liverpool now stands, thirty miles above Harris’ Ferry, where they extended themselves on both sides of the main river.
Braddock’s defeat was not only a fatal termination of a campaign which had been expected would inflict a decisive blow upon the French, but it gave the signal to the disaffected Indians to make the frontiers of the province the scene of predatory warfare in which many sections of the Susquehanna Valley were severely scourged.
The Provincial Government did not act with the energy and promptness which the emergency demanded. No means were adopted for the protection of frontier settlements and the entire wilderness from the Juniata River to Shamokin, now Sunbury, was filled with parties of hostile Indians, murdering, scalping and burning. Every post brought to the Provincial Council at Philadelphia heart-rending appeals for help.
The Assembly and the Governor were deadlocked, no money bills could be passed. Troops of frontiersmen rode through the city threateningly brandishing their weapons. A party of Germans laid the corpses of the countrymen, scalped within sixty-five miles of the capital, at the door of the State House. The Quaker peace policy was denounced in unmeasured terms from the backwoods pulpits.
The Indians had driven off the Moravian missions at Shamokin and burned their own town at that important place.
Two of Colonel Weiser’s sons, Frederick and Peter, had been at Shamokin several days previously, then stopped at the house of George Gabriel, at the mouth of Penn’s Creek about the head of the Isle of Que, near the present town of Selinsgrove. While there a messenger arrived from Logan, one of Shikellamy’s sons and Lapacpicton, a friendly Delaware, who brought the alarming news that a large body of French and Indians was approaching by way of the West Branch.
The Provincial Government had been warned that a band of Indians had left the West on an expedition to the forks of the Susquehanna, but paid no heed until too late.
These Indians crossed the Allegheny Mountains, through the headwaters of the Otzinachson, now called West Branch, near Clearfield, thence through the “Great Plains,” now known as Penn’s Valley, Center County, through the gaps of Penn’s Creek, in Paddy Mountains, where they struck the white settlements along the creek, commencing at the present town of New Berlin and down the stream for about a mile in what is now Snyder County.
October 16, 1755, occurred the terrible massacre at Penn’s Creek, when fifteen persons were cruelly murdered and their bodies terribly mangled and ten others were carried away as Indian prisoners.
Of the twenty-five victims, one man, who was wounded, was able to reach Gabriel’s with the news of the massacre.
When the party went out to bury the dead they found thirteen bodies of men and elderly women, and one child, two weeks old.
The house of Jacob Le Roy, where the massacre was ended, was burned and his body lying just by it. He lay on his back, barbarously burnt and two tomahawks sticking in his forehead.
The conditions in the immediate neighborhood of Penn’s Creek beggared description. Conrad Weiser wrote to Governor Morris, upon the arrival of his sons, advising of the massacre, and gave him the news of the intended invasion. But John Harris rushed to the rescue of those in distress, and, with a company of forty-six men from Paxtang, arrived at the mouth of Penn’s Creek. He found the dead had been buried, and proceeded to Shamokin to learn the attitude of the Indians there.
In the Pennsylvania archives is to be found the examination of Barbara Leininger and Mary Le Roy, taken after their return from captivity. They testified that the others carried away captives at Penn’s Creek were Jacob Le Roy, Rachel Leininger, brother and sister of the testators; Marian Wheeler; Hannah, wife of Jacob Breylinger and two of their children, one of whom died of starvation, while they were being held at Kittanning; Peter Lick and two sons, John and William.
They named the principal Indians and gave a detailed narrative of their journey and captivity.
They were carried to Kittanning, where they were held prisoners until Colonel John Armstrong destroyed the town, September 8, 1756, when the Indians who had these prisoners in charge made their escape.
They were carried to Fort Duquesne and were then led twenty-five miles lower down the river to the mouth of Big Beaver Creek. In the spring of 1757 they were taken to Kuskusky, twenty-five miles up Big Beaver Creek, where they remained until the Indians learned that the English were marching against Fort Duquesne, when the Indians evacuated Kuskusky and hurried their prisoners on a forced march to the Muskingum, in the present State of Ohio.
March 16, 1759, the testators made their escape and were able to reach Fort Pitt fifteen days later. They reached their relatives subsequently, and were in Philadelphia, May 6, 1759, when they gave their testimony.
Ann M. LeRoy was residing in Lancaster in 1764, when she again made an affidavit in regards to the details of her capture and the visits of the supposed friendly Conestoga Indians at Kittanning.
A beautiful boulder with bronze tablet was unveiled at the site of this massacre, October, 1915. This can be seen above the bridge over Penn’s Creek, on the Susquehanna Trail, leading from Selinsgrove to Sunbury. It marks the scene of one of the most horrible of the Indian massacres in Pennsylvania.
During the administration of Governor James Pollock the Main Line of public works had been sold by virtue of the act of Assembly of May 16, 1857. Governor Pollock had very strongly urged the sale of the public works, as they had become a running sore of corruption, including political debauchery and the systematic plunder of the treasury.
On June 25 following the Governor closed the transaction by which the Pennsylvania Railroad Company, July 31, assumed ownership of the whole line of public works between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, the consideration being $7,500,000.
Following that sale measures were taken for the disposal of the remainder of the public improvement. They had failed to be a source of revenue to the State, and the application of the proceeds to the payment of the debt of the Commonwealth soon led to the removal of taxation by the State.
With the disposal of the Main Line of public works, there were left not a few local canals, such as the North Branch, West Branch and others, to be managed by the Board of Canal Commissioners. This was a sore point, and there was a very general desire that these should also be disposed of and the State entirely divested of its interests in transportation lines.
The Sunbury and Erie Railroad Company was chartered April 3, 1837. The road was opened between Williamsport and Milton, December 18, 1854, and between Milton and Northumberland, September 24, 1855.
The railroad bridges over the North Branch at Northumberland were completed for traffic January 7, 1856, which opened the road from Williamsport to Sunbury. From this time it became a long struggle to complete the line from Williamsport to Erie, which was to be the western terminus.
Borough councils and prominent citizens subscribed for stock, and various attempts were made to construct the road, but each new organization only repeated the story of failure.
A number of very able and experienced railway men and the directors conceived the idea of virtually borrowing the credit of the State, without imposing any liability upon the Commonwealth, to aid in the construction of this road.
Their proposition was that the various canals remaining in the ownership of the State should be sold to the Sunbury and Erie Railway Company for $3,000,000, giving the railway company the right to sell or mortgage the several canals as might be deemed best, the proceeds to be applied to the construction of the Erie line, and the State to accept a mortgage upon the line for the $3,000,000 to be paid for the canals. It was believed this would provide sufficient funds to complete the line, and when this was accomplished the mortgage held by the State would be abundant security against loss to the Commonwealth.
A bill to enable this sale of the canals was read in place in both House and Senate and an earnest battle ensued as the members of the canal board were not willing to be shorn of their immense powers, which would result if the State sold the canals.
The Republicans in the House supported the bill; the personnel of the canal board was entirely Democratic. No community in the State would benefit more by the completion of the link from Williamsport to Erie than would Philadelphia, and the great interests of that city soon brought a solid support in both House and Senate in favor of the bill.
Many Democrats whose districts were traversed by the proposed road also fell into line, so that in spite of desperate opposition, the bill finally passed the House by a decided majority, and gained the narrow margin of one vote in the Senate.
Governor William F. Packer was a resident of Williamsport, and, of course, was intensely interested in the measure.
The bill reached the Governor only three days before final adjournment, and when he examined it, the Governor discovered a vital error in phraseology which had been overlooked, but which would result in serious embarrassment in executing its provisions. He could not return it with his objections, as it could not be passed over the veto; there was not time for the passage of a new bill, and the bill could be amended in the hands of the Governor only by the adoption of a joint resolution instructing such change.
A joint resolution was required to lay over a day under the rules and it required two-thirds vote to suspend the rule, while the delay of a day would be fatal.
The matter was submitted to Speaker Longnecker, who presided with ability and dignity over the body, and he informed those who were conferring with him that a joint resolution could not be read and finally passed on the same day.
Among the prominent Democratic members was George Nelson Smith, of Cambria County, a thorough parliamentarian and one of the most popular members of the House.
It was suggested to the Speaker that he call Smith to the chair. The Speaker consented, Smith took the gavel and the resolution to amend the bill was changed from the usual form of a joint resolution by saying, “Resolved, If the Senate concurs, etc.,” giving the appearance of a House resolution requiring simply the concurrence of the Senate.
As soon as it was read the point was raised that it was a joint resolution and must lie over for a day, but Smith faced the emergency with magnificent boldness, deciding that it was not a joint resolution and directing the final vote to be called.
It was evident that a majority of the House meant to save the bill; tactics for delay would be defeated by previous question and by the aggressive action of Acting Speaker Smith the House was suddenly brought to a call of the yeas and nays and the bill was saved. The Senate had ample time for concurrence and it was given.
Even after giving the Sunbury and Erie Railway Company the benefit of the loan of $3,000,000 the work was pushed forward under many embarrassments. It was on the verge of collapse in the general prostrations of 1860, but the Legislature came to its relief by an extension of credit.
The Civil War came with its quickening of business and large increase of circulating medium, and the great enterprise of building a railroad through an almost continued wilderness from Williamsport to Lake Erie, a distance of nearly 250 miles, was completed October 17, 1864, and the State gained not only by the sale of its canals and the abolishment of the Canal Board, but the $3,000,000 was abundantly secured to it.
The new railroad brought multiplied wealth to the State and the people that could never have been realized excepting by the construction of a great railway through the boundless riches of that great region.
The name Sunbury and Erie was changed to the Philadelphia and Erie Railroad Company by Act of Assembly March 7, 1861.
On January 1, 1862, it was leased to the Pennsylvania Railroad Company for 999 years.
Following the defeat of General Edward Braddock, July 9, 1755, the savages roamed at will through the frontier settlements of Pennsylvania. They now realized the English were no longer invincible and became bolder and more terrible in their predatory warfare.
The first outbreak was at Penn’s Creek, in the present Snyder County, where on October 16, they swooped down upon the industrious German settlers of that neighborhood and cruelly massacred fifteen and carried away ten others into captivity.
The news of the massacre struck terror in the hearts of the settlers and all, excepting a very few, fled down the river to the older settlements.
Only two days after the Penn’s Creek massacre another occurred only a short distance to the eastward, at the mouth of Mahanoy Creek, about five miles south of the present city of Sunbury.
On this eventful day, October 18, 1755, twenty-five of the inhabitants were killed or carried away into captivity, often worse than death. Every building of the little settlement was burned, and all the improvements destroyed.
The difference in the two massacres lies in the fact that one escaped from the murderous savages at Penn’s Creek, who was able to make his way to George Gabriel’s at the mouth of the creek, where he told the awful story in detail. It also happened that two sons of Conrad Weiser were there at the time, and they hastened to their home in Berks County.
Soon the old provincial interpreter had messengers on the way to inform Governor Morris of the massacre and the threatened invasion of the Forks of the Susquehanna by the French and their Indian allies, who were approaching in great force.
Immediately the news of the massacre at Penn’s Creek reached Harris’ Ferry, and without waiting for advice from the provincial authorities, John Harris, with forty-six inhabitants of the neighborhood, hastened to the scene of the disaster, where they found and buried a number of the mangled bodies of the victims. From this place they proceeded to Shamokin to see the Indians and prevail upon them, if possible, to remain neutral.
Their reception at the Indian village was civil but not cordial, and they remained there only till the next morning.
During the night they heard the Indians talking about the English in unfavorable terms, and soon after they sang a war song and four Indians went away in the darkness in two canoes. They were well armed. One canoe went down stream, the other across the river.
In the morning they made a few presents to the Indians. Before their departure they were privately warned by Andrew Montour not to take a certain road on the western side of the river, but to continue down the eastern side.
They, however, disregarded his warning, either relying on the good faith of the Indians, or suspecting that Montour intended to lead them into an ambuscade, and they crossed the river and started to march along the flats on the western shore.
Hardly had they got started on their march until they were fired upon by some Indians who lay in ambush, and four were killed, four drowned and the rest put to flight.
John Harris, under date of “Paxtang, ye 28th October, 1755,” wrote to the Governor an account of the foregoing expedition, and how near they all came to suffer through Indian treachery. Among other things, he said:
“This is to acquaint you, that on the 24th of October, I arrived at Shamokin, in order to protect our frontiers up that way till they might make their escape from their cruel enemies, and learn the best intelligence I could.
“The Indians on the West Branch certainly killed our inhabitants on Penn’s Creek, and there are a hatchet and two English scalps sent them up to North Branch, to desire them to strike with them if they are men.”
He then described the situation and warned the Governor that the Indians entertained serious designs upon the settlers in and about the Forks of the Susquehanna. He then wrote:
“Montour knew many days ago of the enemy being on their march against us before he informed, for which I said as much to him as I thought prudent, considering the place I was in.
“On the 25th inst., on my return with about forty men, we were attacked by about twenty or thirty Indians, received their fire, and about fifteen of our men and myself took to the trees, attacked the villains, killed four of them on the spot and lost but three more, retreating about half a mile through the woods, and crossing the Susquehanna, one of whom was shot off a horse riding behind myself, through the river. My horse was wounded, and falling into the river, I was obliged to quit him and swim part of the way.
“Four or five of our men were drowned crossing the river. I hope our journey, though with fatigue and loss of our substance and some of our lives, will be of service to our country by discovering our enemy, who will be our ruin, if not timely prevented.
“I just now received information that there was a French officer, supposed captain, with a party of Shawnee, Delaware, etc., within six miles of Shamokin, ten days ago, and no doubt intends to take possession of it which will be a dreadful consequence to us, if suffered.”
Harris then told of his knowledge of the Indians who had made the attack on Penn’s Creek; of an intended attack on Shamokin and other places. He concluded his long and informative letter: “I expect Montour and Monacatootha down here this week, with the determination of their Shamokin council. The inhabitants are abandoning their plantations and we are in a dreadful situation.”
The postscript to his interesting letter was as follows: “The night ensuing our attack the Indians burned all George Gabriel’s houses; danced around them.”
The person who was shot off the horse, while riding behind John Harris in crossing the river, was a physician of Paxtang, who had accompanied the party in his professional capacity.
On the following day John Harris wrote a letter to Edward Shippen, at Lancaster, in which he expressed fear that the Indians would attack them any day. He wrote: “I have this day cut loopholes in my house, and am determined to hold out to the last extremity, if I can get some men to stand by me. But few can be had at present, as every one is in fear of his own family being cut off every hour.”
Harris advised the immediate building of a fort at the Forks of the Susquehanna. The situation in the Province even as close to Philadelphia as Harrisburg was truly desperate.
During the winter of 1776 and the following spring the agents of Great Britain had been very active in organizing Indian uprisings along the frontiers as a part of the general campaign for the subjugation of the rebellious colonists.
Continental Congress decided to take charge of the defense of the colonists, especially those in the western part of the State, where the Indians had been more active and where the settlers had been afforded less protection from the State and Colonial governments.
The first move by Congress was a decision to take Fort Pitt under its care and provide an adequate garrison at the Continental expense. The offer was accepted by Virginia, which colony then claimed the western part of Pennsylvania as its territory, and Captain John Neville was directed to transfer the fort to the United States officer appointed to its command.
General Washington selected Brigadier General Edward Hand, of Lancaster, for this important service. The brave and efficient work of this distinguished officer led the commander-in-chief to believe that he would be an able defender of the border, but fighting British and Hessians along the seaboard and Indians in the woods are two quite different propositions, as General Hand soon discovered.
General Hand was no stranger at Fort Pitt, but during his former service there he had no experience in fighting Indians.
He was a native of Ireland and educated to be a physician. At the age of twenty-three years he was commissioned as assistant surgeon in the Eighteenth Regiment of Foot, known as the Royal Irish, and in the spring of 1767 he accompanied the command to America.
He was stationed for a time in the Illinois country and afterward at Fort Pitt. In 1774 he resigned his commission and took up the practice of medicine in Lancaster, Pa.
Soon after the news of Lexington and Concord he interested himself in raising troops for the cause of the colonists and was commissioned lieutenant-colonel of Thompson’s celebrated regiment of Pennsylvania riflemen, afterward the First Regiment of the Pennsylvania Line.
In March, 1776, Hand succeeded as colonel and under his command the regiment did gallant work in the battles of Long Island, Trenton and Princeton.
On April 1, 1777, Hand was rewarded for his really exceptional services by promotion to the rank of brigadier general and soon thereafter General Washington further evinced his appreciation and confidence by assigning General Hand, then only thirty-three years old, to the defense of the western frontier.
General Hand arrived at Fort Pitt Sunday, June 1, 1777, and took over the property from Captain Neville. He led no forces across the mountains, being accompanied by only a few officers.
The garrison consisted of but two companies of the Thirteenth Virginia, recruited in and about Pittsburgh, and they were shy of discipline. The larger part of these soldiers had been with Washington in New Jersey.
General Hand, in the East, had engaged in warfare where it was never difficult to locate the enemy, in large bodies, ready to stand up and fight. In that warfare the colonists did most of the dodging and were the hardest to find.
On the frontier the conditions were reversed, the enemy could not be found yet was ever present. The savages, in small bands, entered the settlements and struck quick but terrible blows, then fled by night into the dense forests.
The only evidence of the presence of these savages were the dead bodies of the victims and ashes of their former cabins, but they left no trail that a white man could discover. The problem was perplexing to General Hand.
Many murders had been committed before General Hand’s arrival, but they became more numerous.
The British commandant, Colonel Henry Hamilton, at Detroit, began about June 1 to equip and send out war parties to attack the settlements of Kentucky, Virginia and Pennsylvania, which parties consisted mostly of Indians of the Wyandotte and Miami tribes of Northern Ohio and Shawnee of Southern Ohio and a few British officers.
At the same time parties of Seneca invaded the Pennsylvania settlements from Western New York.
Beside the bodies of many victims of the raids were found copies of the proclamation by Hamilton, offering protection and reward to all settlers who would make their way to any of the British posts and join the cause of the King.
General Hand soon determined that the one way to fight Indians was to invade their own country and destroy their towns and provisions. The Ohio tribes had permanent villages and grew great crops of corn, beans and pumpkins, which they stored in earth silos. If the Indians lost their crops they would be driven to hunt in the winter and could have no time for the warpath.
General Hand decided to descend the Ohio with a large force of militiamen to the mouth of the Big Kanawha and to march thence overland against the Shawnee towns.
Hand appealed to all the militia commanders of Westmoreland and Bedford Counties in Pennsylvania, and of all the frontier counties of Virginia, to muster men for the expedition.
He also appealed to the governments of both States and they directed their officers to respond to the calls. The project was even indorsed by Congress; yet in spite of all these efforts the expedition was a failure.
General Hand expected 500 men from the two Pennsylvania counties and 1500 men from Virginia. His expectations were unreasonable in that he did not take into consideration the drained and distressed condition of the border. Already the hardiest and most useful men had gone to fight the British. Most of those who remained on the plantations believed they were needed at home to protect their families from the raids of the savages.
No men responded from Bedford County and only 100 from Westmoreland, under command of Colonel Lochry, reached Fort Pitt.
On October 19, 1777, General Hand left Fort Pitt and went down the river to Wheeling, where he expected to meet the recruits from Virginia. After a week of waiting only a few poorly equipped squads reported to him. Hand gave up in disgust and returned to Fort Pitt.
The following spring he requested to be recalled from the frontier service, and General Washington called him to his army May 26, 1778.