Chapter VII. The Decline Of Quaker Government

When the treaty of peace was signed in 1763, extinguishing France's

title to Canada and turning over Canada and the Mississippi Valley to

the English, the colonists were prepared to enjoy all the blessings of

peace. But the treaty of peace had been made with France, not with the

red man. A remarkable genius, Pontiac, appeared among the Indians, one

of the few characters, like Tecumseh and Osceola, who are often cited

as proof of latent powers almost equal to the strongest qualities of the

white race. Within a few months he had united all the tribes of the

West in a discipline and control which, if it had been brought to the

assistance of the French six years earlier, might have conquered the

colonies to the Atlantic seaboard before the British regulars could have

come to their assistance. The tribes swept westward into Pennsylvania,

burning, murdering, and leveling every habitation to the ground with a

thoroughness beyond anything attempted under the French alliance. The

settlers and farmers fled eastward to the towns to live in cellars,

camps, and sheds as best they could. * Fortunately the colonies retained

a large part of the military organization, both men and officers, of

the French War, and were soon able to handle the situation. Detroit and

Niagara were relieved by water; and an expedition commanded by Colonel

Bouquet, who had distinguished himself under General Forties, saved Fort

Pitt.

* For an account of Pontiac's conspiracy, see "The Old Northwest"

by Frederic A. Ogg (in "The Chronicles of America").

At this time the Scotch-Irish frontiersmen suddenly became prominent.

They had been organizing for their own protection and were meeting with

not a little success. They refused to join the expedition of regular

troops marching westward against Pontiac's warriors, because they wanted

to protect their own homes and because they believed the regulars to be

marching to sure destruction. Many of the regular troops were invalided

from the West Indies, and the Scotch-Irish never expected to see any

of them again. They believed that the salvation of Pennsylvania, or at

least of their part of the province, depended entirely upon themselves.

Their increasing numbers and rugged independence were forming them

also into an organized political party with decided tendencies, as it

afterwards appeared, towards forming a separate state.

The extreme narrowness of the Scotch-Irish, however, misled them. The

only real safety for the province lay in regularly constituted and

strong expeditions, like that of Bouquet, which would drive the main

body of the savages far westward. But the Scotch-Irish could not see

this; and with that intensity of passion which marked all their

actions they turned their energy and vengeance upon the Quakers and

semicivilized Indians in the eastern end of the colony. Their preachers,

who were their principal leaders and organizers, encouraged them in

denouncing Quaker doctrine as a wicked heresy from which only evil

could result. The Quakers had offended God from the beginning by making

treaties of kindness with the heathen savages instead of exterminating

them as the Scripture commanded: "And when the Lord thy God shall

deliver them before thee, thou shalt smite them and utterly destroy

them; thou shalt make no covenant with them, nor show mercy unto them."

The Scripture had not been obeyed; the heathen had not been destroyed;

on the contrary, a systematic policy of covenants, treaties,

and kindness had been persisted in for two generations, and as a

consequence, the Ulstermen said, the frontiers were now deluged in

blood. They were particularly resentful against the small settlement of

Indians near Bethlehem, who had been converted to Christianity by the

Moravians, and another little village of half civilized basketmaking

Indians at Conestoga near Lancaster. The Scotch-Irish had worked

themselves up into a strange belief that these small remnants were

sending information, arms, and ammunition to the western tribes; and

they seemed to think that it was more important to exterminate these

little communities than to go with such expeditions as Bouquet's to

the West. They asked the Governor to remove these civilized Indians and

assured him that their removal would secure the safety of the frontier.

When the Governor, not being able to find anything against the Indians,

declined to remove them, the Scotch-Irish determined to attend to the

matter in their own fashion.

Bouquet's victory at Bushy Run, much to the surprise of the

Scotch-Irish, stopped Indian raids of any seriousness until the

following spring. But in the autumn there were a few depredations, which

led the frontiersmen to believe that the whole invasion would begin

again. A party of them, therefore, started to attack the Moravian

Indians near Bethlehem; but before they could accomplish their object,

the Governor brought most of the Indians down to Philadelphia for

protection. Even there they were narrowly saved from the mob, for the

hostility against them was spreading throughout the province.

Soon afterwards another party of Scotch-Irish, ever since known as the

"Paxton Boys," went at break of day to the village of the Conestoga

Indians and found only six of them at home--three men, two women, and a

boy. These they instantly shot down, mutilated their bodies, and burned

their cabins. As the murderers returned, they related to a man on the

road what they had done, and when he protested against the cruelty of

the deed, they asked, "Don't you believe in God and the Bible?" The

remaining fourteen inhabitants of the village, who were away selling

brooms, were collected by the sheriff and put in the jail at Lancaster

for protection. The Paxtons heard of it and in a few days stormed the

jail, broke down the doors, and either shot the poor Indians or cut them

to pieces with hatchets.

This was probably the first instance of lynch law in America. It raised

a storm of indignation and controversy; and a pamphlet war persisted

for several years. The whole province was immediately divided into

two parties. On one side were the Quakers, most of the Germans, and

conservatives of every sort, and on the other, inclined to sympathize

with the Scotch-Irish, were the eastern Presbyterians, some of the

Churchmen, and various miscellaneous people whose vindictiveness towards

all Indians had been aroused by the war. The Quakers and conservatives,

who seem to have been the more numerous, assailed the Scotch-Irish in no

measured language as a gang of ruffians without respect for law or order

who, though always crying for protection, had refused to march with

Bouquet to save Fort Pitt or to furnish him the slightest assistance.

Instead of going westward where the danger was and something might

be accomplished, they had turned eastward among the settlements and

murdered a few poor defenseless people, mostly women and children.

Franklin, who had now returned from England, wrote one of his best

pamphlets against the Paxtons, the valorous, heroic Paxtons, as he

called them, prating of God and the Bible, fifty-seven of whom, armed

with rifles, knives, and hatchets, had actually succeeded in killing

three old men, two women, and a boy. This pamphlet became known as the

"Narrative" from the first word of its title, and it had an immense

circulation. Like everything Franklin wrote, it is interesting reading

to this day.

One of the first effects of this controversy was to drive the excitable

Scotch-Irish into a flame of insurrection not unlike the Whisky

Rebellion, which started among them some years after the Revolution.

They held tumultuous meetings denouncing the Quakers and the whole

proprietary government in Philadelphia, and they organized an expedition

which included some delegates to suggest reforms. For the most part,

however, it was a well equipped little army variously estimated at from

five hundred to fifteen hundred on foot and on horseback, which marched

towards Philadelphia with no uncertain purpose. They openly declared

that they intended to capture the town, seize the Moravian Indians

protected there, and put them to death. They fully expected to be

supported by most of the people and to have everything their own way.

As they passed along the roads, they amused themselves in their rough

fashion by shooting chickens and pigs, frightening people by thrusting

their rifles into windows, and occasionally throwing some one down and

pretending to scalp him.

In the city there was great excitement and alarm. Even the classes who

sympathized with the Scotch-Irish did not altogether relish having their

property burned or destroyed. Great preparations were made to meet the

expedition. British regulars were summoned. Eight companies of militia

and a battery of artillery were hastily formed. Franklin became a

military man once more and superintended the preparations. On all sides

the Quakers were enlisting; they had become accustomed to war; and this

legitimate chance to shoot a Scotch-Irish Presbyterian was too much for

the strongest scruples of their religion. It was a long time, however,

before they heard the end of this zeal; and in the pamphlet war which

followed they were accused of clamorously rushing to arms and demanding

to be led against the enemy.

It is amusing now to read about it in the old records. But it was

serious enough at the time. When the Scotch-Irish army reached the

Schuylkill River and found the fords leading to the city guarded, they

were not quite so enthusiastic about killing Quakers and Indians. They

went up the river some fifteen miles, crossed by an unopposed ford, and

halted in Germantown ten miles north of Philadelphia. That was as far as

they thought it safe to venture. Several days passed, during which the

city people continued their preparations and expected every night to be

attacked. There were, indeed, several false alarms. Whenever the alarm

was sounded at night, every one placed candles in his windows to light

up the streets. One night when it rained the soldiers were allowed

to shelter themselves in a Quaker meeting house, which for some hours

bristled with bayonets and swords, an incident of which the Presbyterian

pamphleteers afterwards made much use for satire. On another day all the

cannon were fired to let the enemy know what was in store for him.

Finally commissioners with the clever, genial Franklin at their head,

went out to Germantown to negotiate, and soon had the whole mighty

difference composed. The Scotch-Irish stated their grievances. The

Moravian Indians ought not to be protected by the government, and all

such Indians should be removed from the colony; the men who killed

the Conestoga Indians should be tried where the supposed offense was

committed and not in Philadelphia; the five frontier counties had

only ten representatives in the Assembly while the three others had

twenty-six--this should be remedied; men wounded in border war should be

cared for at public expense; no trade should be carried on with hostile

Indians until they restored prisoners; and there should be a bounty on

scalps.

While these negotiations were proceeding, some of the Scotch-Irish

amused themselves by practicing with their rifles at the weather vane,

a figure of a cock, on the steeple of the old Lutheran church in

Germantown--an unimportant incident, it is true, but one revealing the

conditions and character of the time as much as graver matters do. The

old weather vane with the bullet marks upon it is still preserved. About

thirty of these same riflemen were invited to Philadelphia and were

allowed to wander about and see the sights of the town. The rest

returned to the frontier. As for their list of grievances, not one of

them was granted except, strange and sad to relate, the one which asked

for a scalp bounty. The Governor, after the manner of other colonies,

it must be admitted, issued the long desired scalp proclamation, which

after offering rewards for prisoners and scalps, closed by saying, "and

for the scalp of a female Indian fifty pieces of eight." William Penn's

Indian policy had been admired for its justice and humanity by all the

philosophers and statesmen of the world, and now his grandson, Governor

of the province, in the last days of the family's control, was offering

bounties for women's scalps.

Franklin while in England had succeeded in having the proprietary lands

taxed equally with the lands of the colonists. But the proprietors

attempted to construe this provision so that their best lands were taxed

at the rate paid by the people on their worst. This obvious quibble of

course raised such a storm of opposition that the Quakers, joined by

classes which had never before supported them, and now forming a large

majority, determined to appeal to the Government in England to abolish

the proprietorship and put the colony under the rule of the King. In the

proposal to make Pennsylvania a Crown colony there was no intention

of confiscating the possessions of the proprietors. It was merely the

proprietary political power, their right to appoint the Governor, that

was to be abolished. This right was to be absorbed by the Crown with

payment for its value to the proprietors; but in all other respects

the charter and the rights and liberties of the people were to remain

unimpaired. Just there lay the danger. An act of Parliament would be

required to make the change and, having once started on such a change,

Parliament, or the party in power therein, might decide to make other

changes, and in the end there might remain very little of the original

rights and liberties of the colonists under their charter. It was by

no means a wise move. But intense feeling on the subject was aroused.

Passionate feeling seemed to have been running very high among the

steady Quakers. In this new outburst the Quakers had the Scotch-Irish on

their side, and a part of the Churchmen. The Germans were divided, but

the majority enthusiastic for the change was very large.

There was a new alignment of parties. The eastern Presbyterians, usually

more or less in sympathy with the Scotch-Irish, broke away from them

on this occasion. These Presbyterians opposed the change to a royal

governor because they believed that it would be followed by the

establishment by law of the Church of England, with bishops and all the

other ancient evils. Although some of the Churchmen joined the Quaker

side, most of them and the most influential of them were opposed to the

change and did good work in opposing it. They were well content with

their position under the proprietors and saw nothing to be gained under

a royal governor. There were also not a few people who, in the increase

of the wealth of the province, had acquired aristocratic tastes and were

attached to the pleasant social conditions that had grown up round the

proprietary governors and their followers; and there were also those

whose salaries, incomes, or opportunities for wealth were more or less

dependent on the proprietors retaining the executive offices and the

appointments and patronage.

One of the most striking instances of a change of sides was the case of

a Philadelphia Quaker, John Dickinson, a lawyer of large practice, a man

of wealth and position, and of not a little colonial magnificence when

he drove in his coach and four. It was he who later wrote the famous

"Farmer's Letters" during the Revolution. He was a member of the

Assembly and had been in politics for some years. But on this question

of a change to royal government, he left the Quaker majority and opposed

the change with all his influence and ability. He and his father-in-law,

Isaac Norris, Speaker of the Assembly, became the leaders against

the change, and Franklin and Joseph Galloway, the latter afterwards a

prominent loyalist in the Revolution, were the leading advocates of the

change.

The whole subject was thoroughly thrashed out in debates in the Assembly

and in pamphlets of very great ability and of much interest to students

of colonial history and the growth of American ideas of liberty. It must

be remembered that this was the year 1764, on the eve of the Revolution.

British statesmen were planning a system of more rigorous control of the

colonies; and the advisability of a stamp tax was under consideration.

Information of all these possible changes had reached the colonies.

Dickinson foresaw the end and warned the people. Franklin and the Quaker

party thought there was no danger and that the mother country could be

implicitly trusted.

Dickinson warned the people that the British Ministry were starting

special regulations for new colonies and "designing the strictest

reformations in the old." It would be a great relief, he admitted, to

be rid of the pettiness of the proprietors, and it might be accomplished

some time in the future; but not now. The proprietary system might

be bad, but a royal government might be worse and might wreck all the

liberties of the province, religious freedom, the Assembly's control

of its own adjournments, and its power of raising and disposing of the

public money. The ministry of the day in England were well known not

to be favorably inclined towards Pennsylvania because of the frequently

reported willfulness of the Assembly, on which the recent disturbances

had also been blamed. If the King, Ministry, and Parliament started

upon a change, they might decide to reconstitute the Assembly entirely,

abolish its ancient privileges, and disfranchise both Quakers and

Presbyterians.

The arguments of Franklin and Galloway consisted principally of

assertions of the good intentions of the mother country and the

absurdity of any fear on the part of the colonists for their privileges.

But the King in whom they had so much confidence was George III, and the

Parliament which they thought would do no harm was the same one which

a few months afterwards passed the Stamp Act which brought on the

Revolution. Franklin and Galloway also asserted that the colonies like

Massachusetts, the Jerseys, and the Carolinas, which had been changed to

royal governments, had profited by the change. But that was hardly the

prevailing opinion in those colonies themselves. Royal governors

could be as petty and annoying as the Penns and far more tyrannical.

Pennsylvania had always defeated any attempts at despotism on the part

of the Penn family and had built up a splendid body of liberal laws and

legislative privileges. But governors with the authority and power of

the British Crown behind them could not be so easily resisted as the

deputy governors of the Penns.

The Assembly, however, voted--twenty-seven to three--with Franklin

and Galloway. In the general election of the autumn, the question was

debated anew among the people and, though Franklin and Galloway were

defeated for seats in the Assembly, yet the popular verdict was strongly

in favor of a change, and the majority in the Assembly was for practical

purposes unaltered. They voted to appeal to England for the change, and

appointed Franklin to be their agent before the Crown and Ministry. He

sailed again for England and soon was involved in the opening scenes of

the Revolution. He was made agent for all the colonies and he spent

many delightful years there pursuing his studies in science, dining with

distinguished men, staying at country seats, and learning all the arts

of diplomacy for which he afterwards became so distinguished.

As for the Assembly's petition for a change to royal government,

Franklin presented it, but never pressed it. He, too, was finally

convinced that the time was inopportune. In fact, the Assembly itself

before long began to have doubts and fears and sent him word to let

the subject drop; and amid much greater events it was soon entirely

forgotten.

The Quaker Colonies: A Chronicle of the Proprietors of the Delaware · 第 7 / 13 章