The Constitution, which had been under consideration for eighteen months, was finally adopted October 28, 1701, and William Penn, pressed by many claims for his presence in England, set sail November 1 and arrived there about the middle of January.

He had hardly landed before King William died, January 18, and Princess Anne of Denmark succeeded him. Penn was in great favor with her.

The new Constitution which Penn personally assisted in giving his Province was as comprehensive on the subject of civil and religious liberty as the former ones.

There was established a Council of State, composed of ten members, chiefly Quakers and his intimate friends, of whom four made a quorum who were empowered “to consult and assist with the best of their advice the Proprietary himself or his deputies in all public affairs and matters relating to the government.”

Andrew Hamilton, a native of Scotland, one of the Proprietaries of New Jersey, and formerly Governor of East and West Jersey, was appointed Deputy Governor, and James Logan Provincial Secretary and Clerk of the Council.

Governor Hamilton’s administration was very brief, for he died while on a visit to Amboy, April 20, 1703. The government then devolved upon the Council, of which Edward Shippen was president.

Almost the entire attention of the Government was directed to the consummation of a union between the Province and Territories.

The Territories, or Lower Counties, persisted in the absolute refusal to join with the Province in legislation until 1703, when it was finally determined and settled between them that they should compose different and distinct assemblies, entirely independent of each other, pursuant to the liberty allowed by the clause in the charter for that purpose.

The proprietary selected Mr. John Evans as the successor to Governor Hamilton. He arrived in the province in February, 1704, and soon increased the number of the council and called to that board, with others, William Penn the younger, who had accompanied him to the province. Pursuant to the instruction of the proprietary, he earnestly applied himself to re-unite the province and Territories; and his lack of success in this measure produced an unfavorable disposition toward the province, which embittered his whole Administration.

Governor Evans was but twenty-six years old when appointed, and he was zealous and active in the proprietary’s interest; he was deficient in neither wit nor talents, but lacked experience, prudence and tact, and was offensive to the Quakers. He showed a partiality toward the lower counties, which produced unpleasant effects in the province.

England was at war with France and Spain, and Evans was ordered by the Queen to raise an armed force in Pennsylvania, but his efforts proved unsuccessful. He incurred even greater unpopularity among the Quakers and became odiousodious to the people of Philadelphia.

He offended the merchants of Philadelphia, when he authorized the erection of a fort near New Castle, where it could be of little use to the province, and inward bound ships, not owned by residents, were obliged to deliver their half-pound of powder for each ton measurement. The provincialists remonstrated against this abuse in vain.

At length Richard Hill, William Fishbourne and Samuel Preston, three spirited Quakers, resolved to remove the nuisance by a method different from any that had yet been attempted.

Hill and his companions, on board the Philadelphia, a vessel belonging to the former, dropped down the river and anchored above the fort. Two of them went ashore and informed French, the commander, that their vessel was regularly cleared, demanding to pass without interruption. This demand was refused, when Hill, who had been bred at sea, stood at the helm and passed the fort with no other injury than a shot through the mainsail. French pursued in an armed boat and was taken aboard, while his boat, cut from the vessel, fell astern, and he was led a prisoner to the cabin.

Governor Evans was apprized of the matter and followed the Philadelphia by land to New Castle and, after she had passed the fort, pursued her in a smaller but faster boat to Salem, where he boarded her in great anger, and behaved with considerable intemperance.

Lord Cornbury, Governor of New Jersey, who was also Vice Admiral of the Delaware, happened to be at Salem, and the prisoners were taken before him. He gave them and Governor Evans, as well, a severe reprimand, and when all promised to behave in the future they were dismissed and Governor Evans was jeered.

Following this spirited action, the fort no longer impeded the navigation of the Delaware.

Governor Evans made an extended trip among the Indians, which began June 27, 1707. He was accompanied by several friends and servants. The Conestoga and other Indians had advised him that the Nanticoke of Maryland designed war against the Five Nations. Governor Evans visited in turn: Pequehan, on the Pequea; Dekonoagah, on the Susquehanna, about nine miles distant from Pequehan; Conestogoe and Peixtang.

At the latter place he seized one Nicole, a French Indian trader, against whom heavy complaints had been made. His capture was attended with difficulties, but he was finally secured and mounted upon a horse with his legs tied together, beneath the horse’s belly.

The articles of remonstrance, subsequently addressed to the Proprietary by the Assembly, make it appear that the Governor’s conduct on this occasion and among the Indians was not free from censure, it being described as “abominable, and unwarrantable.”

To add to Governor Evans’ other troubles he had a very unhappy misunderstanding with his secretary, James Logan, which, with the antagonism of the Assembly, almost paralyzed legislative action, and led to a most lamentable exhibition of ill-temper on the part of the Governor.

Remonstrances were sent to William Penn, which tended to produce the very steps which the Assembly desired to guard against, of provoking the Governor to relinquish a troublesome and ungrateful Province to the Crown of England, which had long wished to possess it.

Governor Evans was removed early in the year 1709 and Captain Charles Gookin appointed as his successor. Gookin was an officer in Earle’s Royal Regiment, quite advanced in years, and in the language of Penn “a man of pure morals, mild temper and moderate disposition.”

Among the many dramatic incidents in the history of the Wyoming Valley few, if any, are more thrilling or unusual than the carrying away into captivity of little Frances Slocum.

Jonathan Slocum, a Quaker, settled at Wyoming in 1762 and, with others who survived the awful Indian massacre of October 15, 1763, left the valley.

In the autumn of 1777 he brought his wife, six sons and three daughters from Rhode Island and again made his home at Wyoming.

On Monday, November 2, 1778, Jonathan Slocum and his sons, William and Benjamin, were at work completing their corn harvest. At the Slocum home were the other members of the family, together with Mrs. Nathan Kingsley and her two sons. About noonday the Kingsley lads were sharpening a knife on a grindstone in the front yard. Suddenly the crack of a rifle was heard, and Mrs. Slocum hastened to the front door, when she was horrified to see the lifeless body of the elder Kingsley boy lying on the ground. The Indian who killed him was preparing to scalp his victim with the very knife the boys were sharpening.

The terrified mother snatched her infant from the cradle, called to the others to run for their lives, and fled out of the rear door to a log fence beyond which lay a swamp, and there hid herself and her baby.

Meanwhile the younger Kingsley boy and Frances Slocum, then five-and-a-half years old, hid themselves under a staircase; Judith Slocum, with her three-year-old brother Isaac, fled toward the swamp, while little Mary Slocum, less than ten years old, started on a run in the direction of Fort Wyoming, carrying in her arms her baby brother, aged one-and-a-half years. Ebenezer Slocum, then thirteen years old, was a cripple and unable to get away with the others.

While the Slocums were fleeing from their home the Indian in their door-yard was joined by two others, who made their way into the house and quickly ransacked it. Frances Slocum and young Kingsley were discovered in their hiding place, and dragged forth, while Ebenezer Slocum was seized in another part of the house.

Mrs. Slocum, leaving her baby behind, rushed into the presence of the Indians and implored the savages to release the children. She pointed to the crippled feet of Ebenezer and exclaimed: “The child is lame; he can do thee no good.”

The Indian who had him in his grasp released him to his mother. She pleaded piteously for her daughter, but in vain.

The chief Indian of the three threw Frances athwart his shoulder, one of the other Indians did likewise with young Kingsley, while the third one of the party shouldered the big bundle of plunder which had been taken from the house. They then dashed into the woods, and that was the last Mrs. Slocum ever saw of her daughter, Frances.

Years later it was learned from Frances Slocum herself that she and young Kingsley were carried to a cave where they stayed all night. Early the following morning they set out and traveled for many days. When they arrived at the village to which the Indians belonged, young Kingsley was taken away and Frances never learned what became of him.

The chief took Frances to an aged couple of the Delaware nation, who adopted her. She was given the name of Weletawash, which was the name of their youngest child, whom they had lately buried.

They were living in Ontario when the Revolution ended. They then moved to Kekionga, the present site of the city of Fort Wayne, Ind.

Frances states she was there long after she was full grown, and that she could relate incidents of Harmar’s defeat, October, 1790. In 1790 Frances married a Delaware brave named “Little Turtle.”

During four years of war in what is Ohio and Indiana, Frances and her husband and her foster-parents were almost constantly on the move. Her foster-father could speak English and so could Frances, until he died, when she lost her mother-tongue. In 1794, “Little Turtle” left her and went west.

Sometime in 1795 while on the move with her foster-parents, Frances discovered an Indian lying in the path suffering from wounds received in battle with the whites. She dressed his wounds and nursed him back to health. He supplied them with game.

When about to leave he was promised the adopted daughter in marriage and Frances became the wife of Shepoconah, a chief of the Miami tribe. Soon thereafter her foster-parents died and Frances and her husband removed to Fort Wayne.

In 1801 they, with their two sons and a daughter, removed to the Osage Village, on the Mississineva River, about one mile from its confluence with the Wabash. Here Shepoconah was made war chief, and Frances was admitted into the Miami tribe and given the name Maconaquah, signifying “A Young Bear.” Shepoconah died in 1832.

After the capture of Frances her father was killed, but many efforts were made to obtain clues as to the whereabouts of Frances. After peace was declared her brothers made a journey to Fort Niagara, where they offered a reward of 100 guineas for the recovery of their sister. These brothers never gave up the search. They visited many Indian villages and traveled thousands of miles, even enlisting the Government and large parties of Indians in their search. They attended every gathering of Indians where white children captives were to be given up. They believed she still lived, and until 1797 every possible search was made, but the Slocums could get no trace of their captive sister during the life of their mother.

In January, 1835, Colonel George W. Ewing, an Indian trader, was quartered in the home of Maconaquah and she related the story of her life to him. The next day he marveled at its mystery and wrote a narrative of this woman, and addressed it to the postmaster at Lancaster, Pa. No one was interested. Two years later John W. Forney became the publisher of the Intelligencer and ran across this letter and published it, July, 1837.

Immediately it was read by those who knew the story of the “Lost Sister of Wyoming.” Correspondence was started, and Joseph Slocum and two nephews traveled to the home of Maconaquah, where she was positively identified and acknowledged him as her brother, but expressed no inclination to leave her wigwam to partake of the comforts of his comfortable mansion in Wilkes-Barre.

She said in reply to their pleadings: “No, I cannot. I have always lived with the Indians: they have always used me very kindly; I am used to them. The Great Spirit has always allowed me to live with them, and I wish to live and die with them.”

She had indeed become an Indian even in looks. She thought, felt and reasoned like an Indian.

The Slocums had this comfort, their “Lost Sister of Wyoming” was not degraded in her habits or character; her Anglo-Saxon blood had not been tainted by savage touch, but bore itself gloriously amid long series of trials through which it had passed.

Correspondence was kept up between the relatives until the death of Frances, which occurred March 9, 1847.

George Major, the popular chief burgess of Mahanoy City, died Tuesday, November 3, 1874, from the effects of pistol shot wounds received the Saturday previous, the assassins being members of the notorious Mollie Maguires.

A great strike was in progress in the anthracite coal regions of Pennsylvania, and during such periods of intense excitement the Mollies were as active as a community of hornets whose nest some schoolboys had invaded with paddles.

George Major had long since gained the enmity of this nefarious organization, and was a doomed man.

James McParlan, a young Irishman from Chicago, was the Pinkerton detective who lived among the Mollies, became one of them, and who successfully rid the State of the whole organization.

On the day of this murder James McKenna (as McParlan was known to the Mollies), was in Shenandoah, but soon received intelligence of the affair. He was an officer of the Mollie organization and, in his official capacity, was detailed with Charles Hayes to go to the scene of the shooting and gather such particulars as it was possible to obtain.

This information, of course, was for the use of the Mollies in event any of their members should be arrested for the crime, that an alibi could be prepared for them.

McKenna and Hayes arrived on the scene early Monday morning, while the victim was yet alive, but not expected to survive that day.

McKenna appeared particularly sad and dejected, declaring to his fellow Mollies that his income from his (supposed) crooked peculations had run several months behind, so that he had no funds to expend in too many treats. This was an excuse to provide him with a safe cover from which to carry on his observations, and he at once commenced hunting up the facts connected with the shooting of Burgess Major.

Major had been shot through the left breast, two inches above the heart. This fact was learned by McKenna as soon as he arrived at Clark’s house, the rendezvous of the Mollies.

The proprietor, Clark, was not a member of the order, but his two sons were Mollies. He was alone when McKenna arrived, and soon started to talk about the shooting.

After the usual greetings, McKenna asked Clark if he knew who fired the shot.

“That I can’t, for the life of me, tell! There’s two stories about it. One of them puts it on Dan Dougherty, but I believe him just as innocent as the babe unborn—and the other charges it on Major’s own brother, William, hitting him be mischance, when firing after the Hibernian company’s boys—for ye must know that the whole trouble came about through a quarrel between the Hibernian an' the Citizen Fire Companies. One is wholly made up of our countrymen, an' the other of Modocs—English, German, Welsh an' what not! I suppose ye know that?

“Yes! But who started the row?” queried McKenna.

Clark replied that he was sure it was not Dougherty. He told McKenna of the fire which had called out the companies, and the fact that many firemen were drunk. That on the way home some firemen got to fighting, when Chief Burgess George Major came out of his house, flourished his revolver, and during the confusion shot a dog that was barking nearby. This led to more shooting, when someone in the crowd took off the Chief Burgess, and his brother shot Dougherty in the neck.

McKenna then met Clark’s brother, who was a Mollie, and they went to Dougherty’s home, and soon gained permission to see the wounded man.

Dougherty was almost delirious, and barely recognized his friends. He was terribly wounded, the surgeons even thinking it unsafe to probe for the bullet.

McKenna and Clark then went to McCann’s and soon gained the landlady’s confidence and she invited them upstairs, where McCann was found in bed, also wounded. He claimed Major had fired three shots at him.

Here the scheme was hatched to swear out a warrant for the Chief Burgess before he should die, charging him with an assault with a deadly weapon. That, they contended, would place McCann on the witness-stand and prevent him from being brought to the bar as a defendant. Others present desired McCann to make his escape.

The Chief Burgess succumbed to his wounds Tuesday, November 3, and received burial, with suitable honors, the ensuing day.

McKenna returned to Shenandoah and reported to the Mollies the issue of his trip. He had previously sent to Mr. Allan Pinkerton daily bulletins of his inquiries and their results.

Dougherty recovered, had his trial, early in May, and was acquitted.

McKenna was not ready to call his work at an end. Sufficient evidence had not yet been obtained to bring the band of criminals to justice.

But it was only a few months later when the murderers of Alexander Rae, Gomer James, William and Jesse Major, F. W. S. Langdon, Morgan Powell, Thomas Sanger, William Uren, and others were brought to trial and such evidence obtained that the usual Mollie alibi was broken down and those guilty were made to suffer the penalty which they deserved.

Fort Augusta was built and garrisoned during the summer and fall of 1756 under the direction of Colonel William Clapham and 400 Provincial soldiers recruited for that purpose. This formidable fortress was situated at Shamokin, at the Forks of the Susquehanna, in what is now the city of Sunbury.

The soldiers had barely landed at Shamokin until reports were brought there that the French were coming in great force to besiegebesiege the fort.

The Indians, hostile to the English, committed such depredations that Colonel Clapham sent out expeditions against the Indian towns on the Juniata, at Chincklamoose (now Clearfield); at Great Island (now Lock Haven), and up both branches of the Susquehanna River.

During October, 1756, intelligence was received that Indian families, resident at the Great Island, were making many incursions against the settlements. Several of them had visited Shamokin in August, when they killed a bullock guard at the spring. And as they had formerly lived at Shamokin, they were capable of very great mischief.

Colonel Clapham directed Captain John Hambright, of Lancaster, to lead a company of picked men and destroy the village.

The instructions for this perilous expedition are peculiar and of unusual interest to the present day residents along the West Branch of the Susquehanna as far up as Lock Haven and, because they reveal the dangers such enterprises always encountered, they are given in full:

“Sir:

“You are to march with a Party of 2 Serjts., 2 Corporals and 38 Private men, under your Command to attack, burn and destroy an Indian Town or Towns, with their Inhabitants, on the West Branch of the Susquehanna, to which Monsieur Montour will conduct you, whose advice you are directed to pursue in every Case.

“You are to attack the Town agreeable to the Plan and Disposition herewith given you, observing to Intermix the men with Bayonets equally among the three Partys in the attack, and if any Indians are found there you are to kill, Scalp, and captivate as many as you can, and if no Indians are there you are to endeavor to act in such manner, and with such Caution, as to prevent the Discovery of your having been there by any Party, which may arrive Shortly after you, for which Reason you are strictly forbid to burn, take away, Destroy or Meddle with anything found at such Places, and immediately dispatch Monsieur Montour, with one or two more to me with Intelligence.

“When ye come near the Place of action you are to detach Monsieur Montour, with as many men as he shall Judge necessary to reconnoiter the Parts, and to wait in concealment in the mean Time with your whole Party till his Return, then to form your measures accordingly.

After having burnt and destroyed the Town, you are in your Retreat to post an officer and twelve men in Ambush, close to the Road side, at the most convenient Place for such Purpose which may offer, at about Twelve miles Distance from the Place of action, who are to surprise and cut off any Party who may attempt to pursue, or may happen to be engaged in Hunting thereabouts, and at the same Time secure the Retreat of your main Body.

“'Tis very probable, that on these Moon Light Nights, you will find them engag’d in Dancing, in which case embrace that opportunity, by all means, of attacking them, which you are not to attempt at a greater distance than 20 to 25 yards, and be particularly careful to prevent the Escape of the Women and Children, whose lives Humanity will direct you to preserve as much as possible.

“If it does not happen that you find them Dancing, the attack is to be made in the morning, just at a season when you have Light enough to Execute it, in which attempt your party are to march to the several houses, and bursting open the Doors, to rush in at once. Let the Signal for the general attack be the Discharge of one Firelock, in the Centre Division.

“If there are no Indians at the Several Towns, you are in such case to proceed with the utmost Caution and Vigilance to the Road which leads to Fort Duquesne, there to lye in Ambush and to intercept any Party or partys of the Enemy on the march to or from the English Settlements, and there to remain with the Design till the want of Provisions obliges you to return.

“I wish you all imaginable Success, of which the Opinion I have of your self, the Officers and Party under your Command, leave me no Room to doubt,

“P. S.—You will not omit to post the Sergeant with a party on the other side of the River during the attack, according to Direction, in order to prevent the Enemy from escaping that way and to reserve always one half of your Fire.

“Given at Fort Augusta, Nov. 4th, 1756.”

A close examination of the route of march reveals to those at all familiar with the topography of that part of the State that the expedition crossed the river at Fort Augusta and marched through the ravine to the lower side of Blue Hill, into what is now known as Granger’s Hollow, and continued up the country on the west side of the river, passing through what is now Winfield, Lewisburg, West Milton, New Columbia and White Deer, where they evidently marched over the present Loganton road, following alongside White Deer Creek and then into the Nippenose Valley; thence over the hills and down again into McElhattan Gap, emerging at the river near Great Island.

This is the most direct route, and, as the Indians were good civil engineers and usually found the easy grades for their beaten trails, there is little doubt but that Captain Hambright and his sturdy band of chosen men surely experienced a hard, rough march, even for that early period.

He surely carried out his instructions, but what actually happened on this march is unknown, as no records of his report are to be found among the papers of that period. This is a matter of sincere regret, for the expedition was one of great importance.

It is believed from notes made on a time-stained paper now in the State Library that the first village visited was situated a few miles above the mouth of Pine Creek, opposite what is now the village of Pine, Clinton County. The paper bears the following indorsement: “4th Nov., 1756. Route of Capt. Hambright’s Secret Expedition, Inclos’d in Col. W. Clapham’s Ler of” (This sentence was unfinished).

Antiquarians inform us that many years ago great quantities of Indian relics were found at this site. It is only a short distance east of Great Island, and nearly the exact distance from Fort Augusta, by following the river, that is noted in Colonel Clapham’s letter.

Notwithstanding the surrender to the Six Nations by the Proprietaries of Pennsylvania, in September, 1758, of “all the territory lying to the northward and westward of the Allegheny Mountains,” the white settlers continued to encroach on the hunting grounds of the Indians.

At the great treaty held at Albany, the Proprietaries purchased and received a deed dated July 6, 1754, for the land of the Province above Penn’s Creek, in what is now Snyder County.

The Indians afterward asserted they were defrauded in this sale; that the territory included lands they did not purpose selling and there was much dissatisfaction.

To settle their trouble a compromise was made at the Easton treaty, October, 1758, by the terms of which the Proprietaries authorized Richard Peters and Conrad Weiser to release and reconvey to the Six Nations all the territory lying northward and westward of the Allegheny Mountains which had been conveyed to the Proprietaries by the deed of July 6, 1754, “provided the Six Nations fully stipulate and settle the exact and certain bounds of the residue of the said lands included in the before-mentioned purchase.”

Following the successful termination of the Pontiac Conspiracy in 1764, the whites were less fearful of the Indians and settled in the Indian country with much more confidence. The Indians were quick to grasp the situation and made vigorous complaint to the Governor and all the other provincial authorities.

Proclamations were issued against the settlers without effect, and finally, February 3, 1768, the Pennsylvania Assembly passed an act on the subject. It was enacted that if any persons, already settled or afterward moved on unpurchased lands, neglected or refused to remove from the same within thirty days after they were required to do so by the Governor after notice prohibiting occupancy as aforesaid, being legally convicted, were to be punished with death without the benefit of clergy.

Three weeks after the enactment of the foregoing law Governor Penn issued a proclamation to every person to remove themselves and their families off and from the said lands on or before the first day of May next ensuing.

But proclamations, edicts and acts seemed to be of no avail, and the disputes between the whites and Indians became most acute. At length, in the summer of 1768, Sir William Johnson, the great English agent and true friend of the Six Nations Indians, determined to hold a great council with the Indians “not only for the purpose of renewing the ancient covenant chain between the English and the Indians, but to establish a scientific frontier.”

In preparation for this great council twenty large bateaux, laden with presents best suited to propitiate the Indians, had been conveyed to Fort Stanwix, now Rome, N. Y. Sir William Johnson ordered sixty barrels of rice and seventy barrels of provisions. When the council opened 3200 Indians were present, “each of whom,” wrote Sir William, “consumes daily more than two ordinary men amongst us, and would be extremely dissatisfied if stinted when convened for business.”

The Indians invited to the council began to assemble at Fort Stanwix early in October, 1768, and by the middle of the month the various officials expected to be present were on the ground. From Pennsylvania came Governor John Penn, the Reverend Richard Peters, Benjamin Franklin and James Tilghman.

Governor Penn remained only for the preliminary negotiations, as important business of the Province compelled his early presence in Philadelphia.

Messrs Peters and Tilghman represented Pennsylvania as Commissioners. Connecticut, New Jersey, Virginia and New York were also represented by high officials.

Eight tribes of Indians, including the Delaware, the Shawnee and all the tribes of the Six Nations, were present in larger numbers, while many other tribes were represented by small delegations.

The Seneca went to this great conference armed as if going on the warpath. There were also present a large number of private citizens either through curiosity or by reason of some personal interest in the proceedings.

The records of this great council would indicate that Sir William Johnson and the Commissioners dined together. They formally drank various toasts, as was usual in those times. Frequently these toasts were drunk to the King’s health, and on one or two occasions the language used gave offense to certain of the King’s officers at the table. Once a minister proposed a toast “not to the King of England, but to the King that hears our prayers.” The trouble with the mother country was even then brewing.

Sir William opened the council by telling the Indians that “the King was resolved to terminate the grievances from which they suffered for want of a boundary, and that the King had ordered presents proportionate to the nature and extent of the interests involved.” The Indians retired and for several days were in private council.

The new boundary had been practically agreed upon at a treaty held in 1765, its course being diagonally through Pennsylvania from a point one mile above the mouth of John Penn’s Creek, Snyder County, to a point then called Oswegy, now Oswego, N. Y. Beyond that point, the direction in which the line should be run seems to have occasioned the greatest discussion.

The question was finally and satisfactorily settled, and a deed was made and signed November 5, 1768, by a representative from each tribe of the Six Nations, fixing and describing the boundary-line and granting the land east of it to the King of England. The actual sum paid for this vast territory was about $50,600.

From a point on the Allegheny River several miles above Pittsburgh, this historic line of property ran in a northeasterly direction to the head of Towanda Creek, proceeding down the stream to the Susquehanna; thence it went northward along the river to Tioga Point, eastward to Owego, and crossed the country to the Delaware, reaching it at a point a few miles below Hancock. From here it went up the Delaware to what is now Deposit, Broome County, N. Y. Thence the line went directly across the hills to the Unadilla, and up that stream “to the west branch, to the head thereof.”

The “Fort Stanwix Treaty Lines” through Pennsylvania included all or part of the present counties of Pike, Wayne, Susquehanna, Lackawanna, Luzerne, Bradford, Sullivan, Wyoming, Montour, Northumberland, Lycoming, Union, Clinton, Center, Clearfield, Cambria, Indiana, Armstrong, Allegheny, Westmoreland, Somerset, Fayette, Green, Washington and Beaver.

It was also at this treaty that the Proprietaries were actively concerned in the purchase of the Wyoming lands then claimed by the State of Connecticut. In this object the Pennsylvanians were successful.

Philadelphia was visited twice by the dreaded pestilence of yellow fever, first in the year 1793 and again in 1798. The general consternation which incited many to flee from the destroyer “produced scenes of distress and misery,” wrote Matthew Carey, “of which parallels are rarely met with, and which nothing could palliate but the extraordinary public panic and the great law of self-preservation. Men of affluent fortunes, who gave daily employment and sustenance to hundreds, were abandoned to the care of a Negro after their wives, children, friends, clerks and servants had fled away and left them to their fate.

“In some cases, at the commencement of the disorder, no money could procure proper attendance. With the poor the case was, as might be expected, infinitely worse than the rich, and many of these perished without a human being to hand them a drink of water, to administer medicine or to perform any charitable office for them. Various instances occurred of dead bodies being found lying in the streets, of persons who had no house or habitation and could procure no shelter.”

The cessation of business, in consequence of the plague, threw hundreds of poor people out of employment. Want and famine made their appearance. While the fatal atmosphere of contagion overspread the devoted city the most frightful exaggerations of the real condition of things were spread throughout the country, the consequence of which very soon became serious.

In nearly all the cities and towns, near and far, with a few humane exceptions, all intercourse with Philadelphia was prohibited. This added to the general distress.

The deadly disease swept away whole families. Eleven persons died in one house within a day.

Philadelphia with 50,000 population in 1792 was then not only the largest and busiest city of the Nation but its seat of government. The Congress moved from the city to Germantown; President George Washington and the members of his Cabinet and their families departed the city, and every person who could afford it followed their example.

One out of every five who remained in Philadelphia died. Churches and schools, as well as the stores and mills closed their doors. Half the houses stood empty. Those who ventured to walk abroad held over their nostrils handkerchiefs soaked in vinegar and avoided shaking hands with any one.

Grass grew high in the main streets. Carts passed the main thoroughfares to carry the bodies of those who had perished. The drivers called out at intervals, “Bring out your dead!”

The disease itself was horrible and filthy. The sick were gathered into hospitals, but these, unlike the great hospitals of today, added to their misery. They were mere barns where patients lay crowded together, without proper care. Nurses could not be obtained even at high wages, for to nurse the victims of yellow fever meant almost certain death.

Mayor Mathew Clarkson asked for volunteers to form a Committee of Safety which should do whatever seemed possible for the health of the city. Only twelve men in that greatest of American cities answered the call, so serious was the situation.

One of these volunteers was none other than the greatest man of his day, Captain Stephen Girard. Only two of these twelve volunteered to serve at the hospital, and these heroes were Stephen Girard and Peter Helm. Both possessed great wealth and might have fled the city to live in safety and comfort far from the scene of this horrible pestilence, but they nobly chose to help their fellow men and risk their own lives.

Of these two men Girard took the post of greatest danger, the interior of the hospital. There for two months he spent a large part of each day, nursing his patients. No money could pay for such services and Girard would have accepted no return. Moreover, he went with his own carriage to the houses where the sick lay, entered them, and drove with them to the hospital.

At last the benevolence of the inhabitants elsewhere came to their relief, and contributions in money and provisions were poured out with a liberal hand, which relieved the physical distress. But it took the return of cold weather to check the fever and on November 6 the citizens who had fled at the beginning of the plague began to return, and from that day conditions rapidly improved.

In the plague of 1793 the mortality was 3293, as reported by the “Minutes of the Committee.”

In this scourge there were on Market Street and north thereof 1178 houses shut up and 1066 open, and 1152 deaths. Of the white inhabitants 4627 fled, 7332 remained in the city, and of the colored inhabitants 64 fled out of the city and 474 remained.

South of Market Street 1009 houses were closed and 969 remained open and occupied, 1068 died, 4289 fled and 6133 remained, and 174 Negroes fled and 833 remained to face the plague.

In the Northern Liberties 302 houses were closed and 822 remained occupied; 546 died, 1751 fled and 4943 remained; 28 Negroes ran away and 205 remained.

In the district of Southwark 239 houses were empty and 742 occupied; 527 died, 1239 whites fled and 4521 remained, and 24 Negroes fled and 234 remained.

Thus in the city 2728 houses were closed on account of the occupants fleeing the city or dying and 3599 remained occupied. More than 12,000 inhabitants fled the city, while 25,000 remained and came into close contact with the fever victims.

The figures given here were taken during the month of November, when the cooler weather was beginning to check the ravages of the plague. According to the statisticians of that day, the average of those who fell victims to the fever amounted to more than six and one-third persons to the house.

Among those attacked were Governor Thomas Mifflin and Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury in President Washington’s Cabinet.

Both recovered and on November 14 the Governor issued a proclamation stating the pestilence had ceased and fixing a day of thanksgiving, fasting and prayer. The disease was considered to be conquered about November 6, and from that time confidence returned.

When the city was again desolated by yellow fever in 1798 the deaths reached an enormous rate and much greater than in 1793.

In the month of August, 1798, the deaths in Philadelphia were 621 and in August, 1793, 264; in twelve days in September, 1798, 720 died, and during the same days in 1793 there were 290 deaths reported. From August 8 to October 3, 1798, there were 2778 deaths, and in this same period in 1793 there were 1847 deaths, so it is safe to predict that about twice as many deaths occurred in the second plague as in the first.

The relations between the colonies and the mother country at end of the French and Indian War would doubtless have continued friendly had the latter not seen fit to pursue a new policy toward the former with respect to revenue and taxation. The colonies, until then, had been permitted to tax themselves.

The first act of the British Parliament aiming at the drawing of a revenue from the colonies was passed September 29, 1764. This act imposed a duty on “clayed sugar, indigo, coffee, etc., being a produce of a colony not under the dominion of his Majesty.”

In the colonies it was contended that “taxation and representation were inseparable, and that they could not be safe if their property might be taken from them without their consent.”

This claim of right of taxation on the one side and the denial of it on the other was the very pivot on which the Revolution turned.

England maintained her position in this matter, and in 1765 the famous Stamp Act passed both Houses of Parliament. This ordained that instruments of writing, such as deeds, bonds, notes, etc., among the colonies should be null and void unless executed on stamped paper, for which duty should be paid to the Crown.

The efforts of the American colonists to stay the mad career of the English Ministry proved unavailing. Dr. Benjamin Franklin, then in London as the agent of the Province of Pennsylvania, labored earnestly to avert a measure which his sagacity and extensive acquaintance with the American people taught him was pregnant with danger to the British Empire; but he did not entertain the thought that it would be forcibly resisted.

The opposition to the Stamp Act was so decided and universal that Lord Grenville, to conciliate the Americans, asked their agents to suggest the person to have the sale of the stamps in their respective colonies. Franklin named his friend John Hughes, who in the Assembly had been voting with the opponents of the Proprietaries.

Franklin’s enemies tried to make much capital out of this participation in the introduction of the stamps, while Hughes and Galloway tried to lay the blame for the popular outburst upon the Proprietary Party in both contrivance and connivance.

Massachusetts Assembly suggested that the various Houses of Representatives or Burgesses in America send committees to a meeting in New York City on the first Tuesday of October, 1765, to consider a united representation to the King and Parliament.

The Assembly of Pennsylvania decided unanimously that it ought to remonstrate against the Stamp Act, and appointed as its committee Speaker Fox and Messrs. John Dickinson, George Bryan and John Morton. Nine resolutions on the subject of the “unconstitutional impositions” were adopted unanimously.

Mr. Hughes feared being mobbed during the joy of celebration incident to the change of ministry in England. He sat at his home, armed, watching for an attack on his house, but at midnight those whom he feared dispersed, after burning a “stamp man” in effigy.

Hughes wrote to Governor John Penn and to Mr. Dickinson, the master of the ship which brought the stamps, that he had received no commission to take charge of them. The ship then lay at New Castle, afraid to proceed farther, but on October 5 she sailed up the river to Philadelphia, escorted by a man-of-war.

All the vessels in the harbor put their flags at half-mast, the bells of the State House and Christ Church were muffled and tolled until evening, and two Negroes with drums summoned the people to a meeting at the State House. This sent Robert Morris, Charles Thomson, and others to Hughes, who was very ill at his home, asking him to resign, or at least to promise not to execute his office.

The crowd, Hughes said, was stirred up by the son of Franklin’s great enemy, Chief Justice Allen.

On the following Monday, Hughes gave assurance that neither he nor his deputies would act until King George’s pleasure be known, or the law be put into execution in other colonies, or the Governor commanded him.

Hughes wrote to the Commissioners of the Stamp Office that he would perform his duties if his hands were sufficiently strengthened, but in due time he resigned.

On November 7, 1765, the merchants of Philadelphia assembled at the Court House, where they adopted nonimportation resolutions which were embodied in an agreement soon signed by almost everybody who could be described as a merchant or trader, setting forth that the difficulties they labored under were owing to the restrictions, prohibitions and ill-advised resolutions in recent acts of Parliament.

These measures had limited the exportation of some of the produce, increased the expense of many imported articles and cut off the means of supplying themselves with sufficient specie even to pay the duties imposed.

The Province was heavily in debt to Great Britain for importations, and the Stamp Act would tend to prevent remittances, and so it was hoped the people of the Province would be frugal in the consumption of all manufactures except those of America or of Ireland, coming directly thence, and that the merchants and manufacturers of Great Britain would find it to their interest to befriend them.

The subscribers agreed and pledged their honor to direct all goods ordered from Great Britain not to be shipped and to cancel all former orders until the Stamp Act be repealed. The ships already cleared for Great Britain owned by the merchants were allowed to bring back the usual bulky articles but no dry goods, except dye stuffs, and utensils necessary for carrying on the manufactures, and to sell no articles sent on commission after January 1, 1766.

The committee which circulated this agreement for signatures, and was appointed to see to its being carried out, was composed of Thomas Willing, Samuel Mifflin, Thomas Montgomery, Samuel Howell, Samuel Wharton, John Rhea, William Fisher, Joshua Fisher, Peter Chevalier, Benjamin Fuller and Abel Jones.

In February Franklin was examined before the House of Commons, when he told them there was not enough gold and silver in the colonies to pay the stamp duty for one year. He gave it as his opinion that the people of America would never submit to paying the stamp duty unless compelled by force.

Parliament had only the alternative to compel submission or to repeal the act. It was repealed March 18, 1766, but accompanying it was the one known as the Declaratory Act, more hostile to the American rights than any of its predecessors. This act affirmed “that Parliament have, and of right ought to have power to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever.”

The news of the repeal reached America in May and caused unbounded demonstrations of joy. Though the Quakers generally would not have violently resisted the execution of the law, they shared with others the joy produced by the tidings of the repeal.