Colonel Brodhead at once determined to attack the place and punish the

Delaware for their perfidy. The Pennsylvania Government gave him much

assistance and a supply of provisions, but his force of regular troops

at Fort Pitt had been reduced, from various causes, to about 200 men. He

made a call for assistance to the officers of the border counties, but

no troops were furnished by them. Colonel David Shepherd, county

lieutenant of Ohio County, Virginia (now Green County, Pa.) however,

sent him a body of excellent volunteers consisting of 134 Virginia

militiamen, arranged in four companies, under Captains John Ogle,

Benjamin Royce, Jacob Leffler and William Crawford. These men were hardy

young farmers from the settlements in Washington County; most of them

rode their own horses, and cheerfully responded to Colonel Shepherd’s

call.

These troops rendezvoused at Fort Henry, the stockade at Wheeling, where

Colonel Brodhead and his command joined them. On Tuesday, April 19, the

little army of 300 was ferried over the Ohio River and marched over the

Indian trail for Muskingum River. John Montour, Nonowland and Delaware

braves joined the Americans to fight their own treacherous tribesmen.

The purpose was to march rapidly and take the village of Coshocton by

surprise; yet it required ten days to reach that place on account of

severe weather and unusually heavy rains. A short pause was made at

Salem, where Colonel Brodhead held a conference with the Reverend John

Heckewelder.

He learned there were no Christian Indians at Coshocton. The Moravians

were to prepare corn and cattle for the soldiers against the return

march. The missionary then hastened back to Gnadenhuetten and Salem to

carry the news that the Americans were in the country and Killbuck and

his warriors again donned the war paint to join the Continentals against

other savages.

Although it required ten days to reach the Muskingum, the Delaware were

taken by surprise. They had no expectation that the Americans would act

so promptly and, on account of stormy weather, they were careless and

kept out no scouts. Then some of the principal chiefs were at Detroit,

in attendance at a big council with De Peyster, the British governor.

On Friday morning, April 20, during a heavy downpour, the advance guard

came upon three Indians in the woods, not more than a mile distant from

Coshocton. One of the savages was captured, but the two others escaped

to the town and gave the alarm. The captured Indian said there were not

many warriors at home, that a band of forty had just returned from a

border raid, with scalps and prisoners, but had crossed to the farther

side of the river, a few miles above the town, to enjoy a drunken revel.

Brodhead hurried forward and dashed into the Indian capital, finding but

fifteen warriors there, who made a brave resistance, but every one was

either killed by rifle ball or tomahawked by an American soldier. The

mounted men were first in the town and they would not accept surrender

or suffer the wounded to linger long in agony. No harm was done to any

of the old men, women or children, of whom more than a score were

captured. These were removed and every building in Coshocton set on

fire. A great quantity of peltry and other stores was taken and forty

head of cattle furnished good food for the hungry soldiers.

As a result of the Coshocton campaign the hostile Delaware migrated to

the headwaters of the Sandusky and other places farther westward, while

the adherents of Chief Killbuck and those friendly to the Americans

moved to Pittsburgh and erected their rude wigwams on Smoky Island,

sometimes called Killbuck Island, at the northern side of the junction

of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers.

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Cornerstones Laid for Germantown

Academy, April 21, 1760

By the year 1760, the French and Indian War had narrowed its area and

was confined chiefly to Canada. This was then a period of development in

and about Philadelphia.

The Germantown Academy was organized January 1, 1760, and four

cornerstones were laid with appropriate ceremonies, April 21, 1760.

This ancient and honorable institution was originated in a meeting held

December 6, 1759, at the house of Daniel Mackinet, when it was resolved

to start a subscription for erecting a large and commodious building

near the center of the town for the use of an English and High Dutch

School, with suitable dwelling houses for the teachers. Christopher

Meng, Christopher Sower, Baltus Reser, Daniel Machinet, John Jones, and

Charles Bensell were appointed to solicit and receive subscriptions.

At the organization meeting held by the contributors, January 1, 1760,

Richard Johnson was appointed treasurer, and Christopher Sower, Thomas

Rosse, John Jones, Daniel Mackinet, Jacob Rizer, John Bowman, Thomas

Livezey, David Dreshler, George Absentz, Joseph Galloway, Charles

Bensell, Jacob Naglee and Benjamin Engle were chosen trustees.

The trustees purchased a lot from George Bringhurst in Bensell’s Lane,

subsequently called Schoolhouse Lane. The institution was named

Germantown Union High School House.

It was also decided that the school should be free to persons of all

religious denominations.

The buildings were completed by the following year, when the school was

opened in September.

The schoolhouse was eighty feet long and forty feet wide, two stories

high, and six schoolrooms, and wings supplying two dwelling houses for

the use of the masters.

The Academy is a long-fronted building of rough gray stone topped by a

quaint little belfry tower, and with small stone houses on either side,

which balance the pleasing effect. There is a worn stone sill, which

doubtless is the same upon which Washington stepped when he visited the

institution.

Hilarius Becker made his appearance as the German teacher, with seventy

pupils, and David James Dove as the English teacher, with sixty-one

pupils and Thomas Pratt was the English usher.

Although the mass of people used the German language, these numbers show

that those of the English-speaking tongue were rapidly creeping on them.

David James Dove was one of the most famous characters in old

Philadelphia. He had formerly taught grammar sixteen years at

Chichester, England. He was an excellent master and his scholars made

surprising progress. He was the first English teacher in Franklin’s

Academy, and then conducted a school of his own in Vidells Alley before

he became the first English teacher in the new academy at Germantown.

He became rather overbearing and also divided too much of his time with

private scholars, and in 1763 the trustees tried to remove him, but he

refused to be removed, even though Pelatiah Webster had already been

appointed as his successor. Dove held possession of the schoolhouse and

declared he would not retire. Finally Joseph Galloway and Thomas Wharton

were charged with the duty of dealing with Dove.

Of course, Dove made way after a time for his successor, but for many

years he continued to teach a private school in Germantown.

Dove’s method of reclaiming truants was to send a committee of five or

six boys in search of them with a lighted lantern and a bell and in an

odd equipage in broad daylight. The bell was always tinkling as they

went about the town, and soon they would bring the culprits back filled

with shame.

The progress of the academy was most satisfactory, for in 1764 Greek,

Latin and the higher mathematics were taught. In the early seventies

additional ground in the rear of the lot was obtained.

The rudiments of good manners were taught along with those of learning,

but it was expressly enjoined that youths of Quaker parentage should not

be required to take off their hats in saluting the teachers.

In March, 1761, a lottery scheme was put forth to raise £1125 for the

use of this school. Another lottery the same year was for the Germantown

Public School. The academy lottery consisted of 6667 tickets at $3 to

raise $3000.

As the Revolution approached, and, at last, swept over them, the school

experienced troubled times; it was difficult even to get a quorum of the

trustees.

In July, 1777, a new teacher was appointed because Thomas Dungan, the

master of the English school, had joined the American army.

After the Battle of Germantown the academy was used by the British as a

hospital. Some twenty feet to the east of the back part of the grounds

six British soldiers, who died of their wounds, were buried in what was

Dreshler’s lot.

After the war the revival was slow. In 1784 a charter was obtained

incorporating it as the “Public School at Germantown,” which was amended

in 1786. The school was poor, the State could not furnish much

assistance and contributions were solicited. These and the increase in

the enrollment kept the Academy forging ahead. In 1808 another lottery

was held which yielded about $500, but John Bowman, the treasurer,

refused to receive the money.

In the yellow fever epidemic of 1793 the Legislature of Pennsylvania and

the Congress of the United States made proposals for an occupation. It

was given to Congress, on the rather easy terms of the restoration of

“104 panes of glass, two window shutters, two door linings, three door

locks, the steps front and back both of new wood, the hearths to be laid

with new bricks, sundry patchings and white washing for which repairs

and no others, the sum of $60 will be allowed out of the rent, which is

to be $300 for one session.”

In the yellow fever of 1798 the use of the lower floor and cellar was

granted to the Banks of North America and Pennsylvania, they agreeing as

compensation to paint the building and to renew its roof.

The centennial anniversary of the laying of the cornerstone was

celebrated with great enthusiasm April 21, 1860, by ringing the bell,

parade, 100 guns, and in the evening an address by John S. Littell and

an oration by Sidney George Foster.

These are only incidents in the career of more than 160 years, and the

Academy has long been one of the most celebrated in the country.

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Eccentric John Mason’s Leaning Tower on

Blue Hill Destroyed April 22, 1864

Travelers up and down both branches of the Susquehanna River years ago

will well remember the leaning tower high up on Blue Hill, opposite

Northumberland. This peculiar building hung over a precipice and viewed

from the river level, looked as if a breath of air would topple it to

the rocks below. It was built by John Mason, who owned a farm of ninety

acres of land on the hill, and who, from his eccentricities, came to be

known as the “Hermit of Blue Hill.”

The tower, which was built as an observatory, was about sixteen by

eighteen feet, two stories in height and of octagonal shape. It leaned

at an angle of about twenty-two degrees and for safety was clamped to

the rock upon which it was built with strong iron rods. The roof was

flat, and there was a railing around it for protection of those who had

courage to go upon it and look down the frightful precipice.

The view from the roof of “John Mason’s Leaning Tower,” as it was

called, was one of superlative grandeur. Both the North and West

Branches of the Susquehanna, as well as the main stream below their

confluence, the majestic hills and pretty towns of Northumberland and

Sunbury could all be taken in one panoramic view. Blue Hill at this

point is 301 feet in height, as determined by the engineers who laid out

the railroad in after years.

The leaning tower was built very near the spot one now sees, in seeking

the profile of old “Shikellamy,” which would be located about where the

top of the forehead would be seen. The tower was almost destroyed by

visitors who cut their initials upon everything of wood, until it was

entirely covered by these characters.

John Mason built this odd-looking house in 1839. William Henry did the

carpenter work. It stood there until the spring of 1864—a period of

twenty-five years—when, on a Sunday afternoon, April 22, it was

destroyed by a party of railroad men in a spirit of deviltry. They

loosened its moorings and the curious tower rolled down the rocky

precipice with a tremendous crash and landed on a raft of logs passing

down stream.

Its destruction removed one of the oddest, as well as one of the most

conspicuous, landmarks along the Susquehanna River.

There are several stories related of John Mason’s eccentricities and the

motives which induced him to erect this leaning tower.

About the time the vandals destroyed the tower a most interesting novel

was written entitled “Eros and Antiros,” which story was woven about

this scene and its unusual builder. In fact, John Mason was the hero of

the story. The author, being a personal acquaintance, may have written

from a knowledge of the facts.

In the story John Mason had been disappointed in a love affair and

sought this manner to remove himself from the busier world and to live

and die in seclusion.

Another version of the eccentric John Mason’s leaning tower is that it

was his eyrie, where he gathered together a rare collection of queer old

English books—they sold at 75 cents the bushel-basketful at his sale—and

here he slung his hammock and here he read his books.

That story says John Mason’s father was a Quaker, living in

Philadelphia, an old acquaintance of James Jenkins, Jr., at Turtle

Creek, opposite the town of Northumberland, at the base of Blue Hill,

who said to him one day, speaking of his son John, that he was a

restless fellow and wanted to go to sea, and that it would be the death

of his mother. “Can’t thee take him out with thee?” Jenkins replied that

it was a wild place and not likely to suit the taste of one who wanted

to go sea-faring.

But John Mason did go up into the wilderness, engaged in the mercantile

business for a time at Northumberland, then moved his stock of

merchandise to the western side of the river and opened a store at

Turtle Creek.

John Mason never recognized or became intimate with women. One evening

at the Jenkins home, Mason came in as was his custom from the store,

about 9 o’clock, and seated himself by the ample fireplace to read a

book. There was a number of young people in the room, who were playing

pawns and forfeits. One pretty girl was condemned in a whisper, to kiss

John Mason. He was apparently paying no attention to the others, but, as

she slyly approached within reaching distance, he raised the tongs

between them, saying, “Not one step nearer.”

Jenkins and he went alternately to Philadelphia to buy goods. Mason

always walked there and back. He lived to an extreme age and was buried

on his hill-top.

So much for that story. It is generally accepted that John Mason was of

English origin, born in Philadelphia, December 7, 1768, and died on the

farm of Colonel Meens above the present city of Williamsport, April 25,

1849.

During his life at the Blue Hill home, it is told of him that he was a

sterling athlete, and could skate to Harrisburg in half a day; that he

often walked to Williamsport, always carrying an old umbrella. His

eccentricities were much talked about in his day.

During the winter following his death his remains were removed by

friends, on a sled and carried to the scene of his hermit life, and

buried under the wide spreading branches of a chestnut tree a few yards

in the rear of his leaning tower. A neat marble tombstone, properly

inscribed, was erected to mark the place of his burial.

This grave has long since been so trampled upon by curious visitors,

that it was entirely obliterated many years ago. Relic hunters so

defaced the stone that it was removed to a neighboring farm house for

preservation. This is all that remains by which to remember John Mason,

“The Hermit of Blue Hill,” the builder of the “Leaning Tower.”

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James Buchanan, Pennsylvania’s Only President,

Born April 23, 1791

James Buchanan, Pennsylvania’s only President of the United States, was

born in a little settlement which bore the odd name of Stony Batter,

near Mercersburg, Franklin County, Pa., April 23, 1791.

Among the Scotch-Irish, whose enterprise brought them to America, was

James Buchanan, a native of Donegal, Ireland. He settled in Franklin

County in 1783, where he set up a store, married Elizabeth Speer,

daughter of a farmer of Adams County, a woman of remarkable native

intellect, and distinguished for her good sense and rare literary taste.

Many a man has owed his success to his mother. James Buchanan said: “My

mother was a remarkable woman. The daughter of a country farmer, engaged

in household employment from early life until after my father’s death,

she yet found time to read much and to reflect on it. What she read once

she remembered forever. For her sons she was a delightful and

instructive companion. I attribute any distinction which I may have

gained to the blessing which God conferred upon me in granting me such a

mother.”

After he was grown a man, James might often be found sitting in the

kitchen to talk with his mother while she worked.

In 1798 James Buchanan, the elder, removed to Mercersburg, where his son

received his academical education and made such progress that his

parents determined to give him the benefit of a collegiate course.

He entered Dickinson College at Carlisle at the age of fourteen. Here he

found that many of the students did very much as they pleased. “To be a

sober, industrious, plodding youth,” said Buchanan afterwards, “was to

incur the ridicule of the mass of students.” He imitated the majority

and soon learned that he was not longer desired as a student. Knowing

his father would not help him out of his plight, he turned to the pastor

of his church, and by his aid James received another chance and made

good use of it. He graduated in June, 1809.

In December, following, he commenced to study law with James Hopkins, of

Lancaster. He applied himself, “determined” said he, “that if severe

application would make me a good lawyer, I should not fail. I studied

law and nothing but law.” He was admitted to practice November 17, 1812,

and at once took the first rank in his profession. So successful was he,

that when but forty years old he had acquired means that enabled him to

retire from the profession.

When the British burned the Capitol at Washington and threatened

Baltimore, James Buchanan displayed his patriotism by enlisting as a

private in the company commanded by Captain Henry Shipman, which marched

from Lancaster to the defense of Baltimore and with which he served

until honorably discharged.

In October, 1814, he was selected a representative in the Legislature,

and re-elected. His intention, however, was to return to the practice of

law and stay out of political office. A sad event changed the current of

Buchanan’s life.

A young woman, to whom Buchanan was engaged in early manhood, a daughter

of the wealthiest family in the county, wrote him a letter of dismissal

under the spell of jealousy which had been aroused by gossips. Pride on

both sides kept the two apart until their separation was made

irrevocable by her sudden death. In grief and horror, the young lover

wrote to the father of the dead girl, begging the privilege of looking

upon her remains and of following them to the grave. But the letter was

returned to him unopened.

Four and forty years passed, and Buchanan went to his grave without ever

having taken any other woman to his heart.

To help him forget his grief, Buchanan accepted the nomination for

Congress. He did not expect to win but did, and his career thenceforward

became political. He served five terms and at the end of his service the

Democrats of Pennsylvania brought forward his name for the vice

presidency. Then President Jackson appointed him Minister to Russia. In

this position he concluded the first commercial treaty between the

United States and Russia, securing to our seamen important privileges in

the Baltic and Black Seas.

In 1833, on his return to the United States, he was elected United

States Senator, taking his seat December 15, 1834.

President Van Buren offered Buchanan the place of Attorney General, but

it was declined. When Polk became President, the post of Secretary of

State was offered and accepted. The most pressing question Buchanan had

before him was the northern boundary of the Oregon Territory. Buchanan

closed this transaction with Great Britain in 1846, and completed our

boundary line to the Pacific.

At the close of Polk’s Administration, Buchanan retired to private life

at his country home, called Wheatland, just outside of Lancaster. A

niece and nephew were taken into his home and raised as his own

children.

When Pierce became President, on March 4, 1853, Buchanan was sent as

United States Minister to England. On his return from this mission he

was nominated and elected to the presidency, and inaugurated March 4,

1857.

Buchanan clung to the idea that freedom rather than slavery was to blame

for all the trouble. He believed that since this Government had

permitted slavery when the Union was formed, the Nation had no right to

interfere with it in States already in the Union.

When South Carolina seceded he was within ten weeks of the end of his

term, with a hostile Congress in front of him and behind him a country

as resolute as himself.

Buchanan lived quietly at Wheatland and saw the Rebellion begin and

triumphantly end.

Whatever the writers of history may say concerning the wisdom of

Buchanan’s political ideas, no one can deny the honesty of his

character. No President could have been more careful to set a good

example to others. He considered that his time belonged to the Nation.

When presented with gifts of any value, he at once returned them to the

sender.

In his travels he paid his own fare, and never used a pass even when out

of office. “When I cannot afford to pay my way,” he declared, “I will

stay at home.”

His niece, Harriet Lane, while “Mistress of the White House,” took a

trip to West Point on a Government vessel which had been named after

her. Her uncle wrote to her that national vessels should not be employed

on pleasure excursions, and that he would put a stop to the practice.

James Buchanan died at Wheatland, June 1, 1868.

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News of Revolution Reached Philadelphia by

Messenger, April 24, 1775

At 5 o’clock in the afternoon of Tuesday, April 24, 1775, an express

rider came galloping into Philadelphia from Trenton, with the greatest

possible haste, excitement in his looks and on his lips. The rider

hurried up to the City Tavern, where the people crowded in eagerness to

learn of his mission. Members of the Committee of Correspondence were in

the crowd and to these the rider delivered his dispatch. It was a brief

and hurried message, but it had come a long route and it was big with

the fate of a nation.

It was a dispatch from Watertown, dated April 19, announcing that

General Gage’s men had marched out of Boston the night before, crossed

to Cambridge, fired on and killed the militia at Lexington, destroyed a

store at Concord, were now on the retreat and hotly pursued. Many were

killed on both sides and the country was rising.

The message had come by way of Worchester, where it was vised by the

town clerk. It then went to Brookline, Thursday, 20th, and was forwarded

at 4 o’clock in the afternoon from Norwich; at 7 that evening it was

expressed from New London.

The committee at Lynn received, copied and started the rider with it at

1 o’clock Friday morning. It came to Saybrook before sun-up. At

breakfast time another messenger took it up to Killingworth. At 8

o’clock it was at East Guilford; at 10 in Guilford, and at noon in

Brandford. It was sent from New Haven with further details on Saturday,

and dispatched from the New York committee rooms 4 o’clock Sunday

afternoon. It reached New Brunswick at 2 o’clock Monday morning,

Princeton at 6 o’clock in the evening and Trenton at 9 o’clock Tuesday

morning. It was indorsed: “Rec’d the above p. express and forwarded the

same to the Committee of Philadelphia.”

Thus was the news of the actual opening battle of the Revolution carried

by express riders from Watertown to Philadelphia, which had been

selected as the seat of Government for the Thirteen Colonies.

Two days later another express came into Philadelphia bringing fuller

particulars of “the Battle of Lexington,” as that memorable fight has

since been called.

The news of Lexington arrived too late in the day to spread at once over

the city. But next morning every man, woman and child knew it, and,

borne by intense patriotic feeling the people assembled in public

meeting, as if by common consent at the State House.

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