by Mark Meyer
Once his forces were in place, McFarlane sent a party with a white flag up the hill to caucus with their adversaries. They wanted Neville to relinquish his commission as Hamilton’s excise inspector. Earlier that day, Brackenridge had told Neville’s son, Presley, that his father should agree to resign to “put by the storm for the present.” This advice was not followed, however, and Major Kirkpatrick, who was in the house at the time, informed the rebels’ negotiating party that Neville was not there and so could not agree to resign. After this, McFarlane sent the men back to the house a second time, again under a white flag, requesting the opportunity to search the house for Neville’s papers. Kirkpatrick refused, and when the men came under a white flag for a third time, they requested that all women and children be evacuated so that the battle could commence. The women left the house and went down the hill to Presley Neville’s home.
The rebels fired from about seventy yards away and the battle began. After fifteen minutes, McFarlane saw a white flag being waved from the house. Thinking this was a plea for a ceasefire, he stepped out into the open and ordered the rebels to stop firing. At that moment, he took a musket ball in the groin and died almost immediately. The rebels were beside themselves; many of them believed that Kirkpatrick had deliberately tricked McFarlane into coming out into the open. All discipline vanished and the rebels started to burn the estate’s outer buildings, eventually making their way to the mansion itself.
Kirkpatrick saw that his situation was hopeless. His soldiers surrendered and the rebels let them go, but they took Kirkpatrick into custody. Some of the rebels wanted to kill him to avenge McFarlane’s death, but David Hamilton, a justice of the peace, took him into custody and eventually allowed him to ride to Pittsburgh. There Kirkpatrick rejoined the Neville Connection, which was regrouping at the home of Isaac and Amelia Craig. As the rebels celebrated their victory with barrels of whiskey they had found on Neville’s property, the most powerful families in the western country were huddled together, licking their wounds, trying to absorb the day’s events. Lucky to be alive, they had to wonder what the next day would bring and if anyone could restrain the anger aimed point blank at them.
The Rebellion Culminates
The rebels had crossed the Rubicon by burning Neville’s house and engaging the US Army in a pitched battle. When they met at Couch’s Fort the next day, their attention turned to Lenox, the federal marshal. They needed to stop him from serving more subpoenas, but more importantly, they needed to retrieve the subpoenas he had served. The rebels were afraid that if these subpoenas arrived in Philadelphia, the government would begin seizing the westerners’ land.
The day before, while Neville’s house was burning, Lenox and Presley Neville had arrived on the scene. The rebels’ rear guard had detained them, eventually releasing Lenox into Presley Neville’s custody after he laid his hand on the dead body of James McFarlane and promised not to return the writs to Philadelphia or to further enforce the whiskey tax.
A committee of rebels sent David Hamilton and John Black, a Washington County rebel, to meet with Neville and Lenox to determine if the federal marshal would honor the agreement. Lenox denied having promised to relinquish the writs. Neville and Hamilton called in Brackenridge who, trying to find a way to finesse the problem, offered to give a written opinion on whether Philadelphia could sell the distillers’ land based solely on the return of the writs. After spending the night researching and writing, he delivered an opinion that the writs only started the process. He also offered to go to Philadelphia to defend any man charged under the writs.
David Hamilton wasn’t buying it. The rebels would have killed Lenox on the spot if they thought for a minute that he would return the writs to Philadelphia. He told Lenox that he could not vouch for his safety once the rebels learned of the marshal’s position. Lenox saw the lay of the land and “while a violent storm of wind prevailed on the water,” he and John Neville escaped on a boat down the Monongahela through western Virginia.
Prior to Neville’s escape, David Hamilton had visited the Nevilles and requested their resignations. They obliged, but Hamilton found the resignations arrogant and full of loopholes so he refused them. At the same time, rumors were spreading of armed men gathering near Pittsburgh, ready to burn the village and take Neville and Lenox into custody. Isaac Craig, in an effort to calm things, removed the sign on Neville’s tax office to show that it was no longer conducting business, and Hamilton secured the resignation of Robert Johnson, who did not have the stomach for further confrontation with the rebels.
As things seemed ready to come apart at the seams, the whiskey boys called a meeting at the Mingo Creek meetinghouse to consider their next move. Hamilton sent a note to Brackenridge, asking him to attend in the hopes of moderating the rebels’ more radical factions, but Brackenridge tore it up. If he attended the meeting, Philadelphia might lump him in with the rest of the rebels. However, Presley Neville, who had studied law under Brackenridge, also asked his mentor to come to the meeting. For Brackenridge, going or not going was a high-risk gambit. This was a dangerous game, and, if one played it badly, prison or death awaited, whether from the rebels or Philadelphia. Eventually, he decided to attend the meeting, but only if he could be accompanied by Pittsburgh residents who could later act as witnesses to his intentions and actions.
Brackenridge expected to meet a committee. What he found was a mass meeting of men, many of whom had attacked and burned Neville’s house a few days before. If he had known the composition of the meeting, he most likely would have stayed in Pittsburgh.
Things started badly when Benjamin Parkinson, a Washington County rebel, read a letter from Presley Neville praising Major Kirkpatrick’s defense of Bower Hill, informing the men that Lenox and John Neville had left the county, and telling the assembly that the destruction of Bower Hill would not harm the Nevilles since they had plenty of money and property beyond the rebels’ reach. This letter did not go down well and riled up the men to a high lather.
Parkinson then posed the question of the day: Had the rebels been right or wrong? David Bradford, a wealthy lawyer who also served as Washington County’s deputy attorney general, rose to speak. The rebels had told Bradford that he needed to pick sides or else he could suffer the same fate as Neville. Bradford was torn, but on this particular day he came out without hesitation on the side of the insurgents. Not only did he support the actions at Bower Hill, he demanded that all others present publicly declare their support for the rebels as well. Now the men turned to Brackenridge and the Pittsburgh contingent who, because of their ties to the Neville Connection, the men instinctively distrusted. The men were like sharks circling for more bait, and Brackenridge clearly understood he needed to lower the temperature in the room. The question was posed again: Had the rebels done the right thing?
Brackenridge told them yes and no. Morally, it was right. Legally, however, it was wrong—in fact, it was high treason, and the president would be compelled to call out the militia. But he would have problems raising sufficient forces. For this reason, if the rebels petitioned Washington, he would surely grant blanket amnesty to make all of this go away. Brackenridge suggested that this amnesty petition was the proper course of action. At the very least, he told the westerners, they had to wait to decide until they had a more representative body; they needed delegates from all the western counties comprising the Fourth Tax Survey. Brackenridge’s speech got a mixed reception, but it quieted the men, who were not sure what to do next. Men started to gather in small groups and wander outside. After a while, the meeting reconvened with the decision that another meeting that included delegates from all four western counties would be held in three weeks at Parkinson’s Ferry, on the left bank of the Monongahela.
David Bradford, however, having cast his fortunes with the militants, was not willing to let passions cool for three weeks. Hoping to find incriminating evidence against the Pittsburgh moderates, he conco
cted a scheme with the “Canonsburg Committee” to steal the Pittsburgh-to-Philadelphia mail. Bradford’s cousin and John Mitchell, a simple, hard-drinking Washington County man, successfully intercepted the mail about ten miles from Greensburg. When Bradford and the “Canonsburg Committee” opened it, they found what they wanted—letters from the Neville Connection and Pittsburgh residents to eastern politicians that denounced the burning of Neville’s house, Bradford’s speech at Mingo Creek, and the rebels’ anti-tax activities.
Bradford wasted no time. In an act of extraordinary boldness, he and six other men called for a mustering of the militia at its usual meeting place at Braddock’s Field, just south of Pittsburgh. Because the Pennsylvania governor was the only person who could legally muster the militia, the men were in open defiance of the government.
Bradford offered the men the “opportunity of displaying” their “military talents.” It was time, according to the call to arms, “that every citizen must express his sentiments not by his words, but by his actions.” The action plan was ill-formed, but the general idea was that the militia would march to Pittsburgh, now being called the second Sodom, and take control of the garrison and the city. Pittsburgh was in a state of panic as it readied for the town to be sacked and burned. In the out-counties, people felt an increasing power and a certain giddiness at the prospect of taking down the haughty Neville Connection.
Moderates reached out to Bradford to try to negotiate a resolution that would save Pittsburgh. Bradford demanded that the village banish Presley Neville, Major Kirkpatrick, and Major Butler, who commanded Fort Fayette. In addition, he wanted the authors of the stolen letters banished. Finally, the people of Pittsburgh had to muster at Braddock’s Field to show their solidarity with the rebels.
Pittsburgh held a highly charged town meeting. The second Sodom was in a precarious position. At most, the town could only muster 250 men to defend itself, and Fort Fayette only had forty soldiers and wasn’t large enough to hold many of the townspeople. The townspeople decided that Kirkpatrick and the letter writers needed to go. They advised Presley Neville, who had entertained plans to go to Braddock’s Field, that he would be first on the rebels’ hit list, so he decided to hole up in his newly fortified house at the bottom of Bower Hill. Because Major Butler was commanding the fort, they could not very well banish him. The townspeople then formed a committee, with Brackenridge as the leader, to communicate with Bradford and the rebels. Finally, they decided to march to Braddock’s Field to show their support and solidarity with the rebels.
When morning broke, the townspeople gathered to begin the march. Brackenridge’s new committee was at the front and the militia brought up the rear. As they approached Braddock’s Field, gunsmoke from the militiamen’s target practice covered the field, creating an ominous feeling among the townsfolk. Other militiamen were also crossing the Monongahela, coming to the mustering area. By day’s end, a total of seven thousand men answered Bradford’s call to arms, and the Pittsburgh committee and militia mingled among the whiskey boys, anxious to see what the day would bring. “Major General” Bradford rode astride a great steed, dressed out in “full martial uniform, with plumes flowing in the air and sword drawn,” giving orders as he passed. The whiskey boys were dressed in the uniforms they wore when fighting the Indian tribes—hunting shirts with handkerchiefs on their heads. It was an impressive array of force, and the Pittsburgh committee knew they needed to tread carefully.
The whiskey boys asked Brackenridge if they could take Fort Fayette. Brackenridge, playing his dangerous game of deflection and delay, predicted victory with losses of at least 1,000 dead and perhaps 500 wounded. Some hard-edged, savvy militants distrusted Brackenridge and the Pittsburgh contingent, but the day dragged on without formulating a decisive plan of action. The militia camped that night at Braddock’s Field, and in the morning, Bradford called a meeting of the militia leaders. The rebels wanted Presley Neville out of the area. The Pittsburghers agreed, but negotiated an eight-day grace period. With that settled, it was agreed the men would march into Pittsburgh, but not attack the fort, or burn and ransack the town. It would be a show of force with some whiskey thrown in at the end.
Word of the plan reached Pittsburgh. Taverns were closed, but the townspeople set up food and whiskey to meet the men as they concluded their march. It was all a work in progress, and the slightest wrong move could set things ablaze. With Bradford leading, the whiskey boys lined up for two and a half miles behind him. They marched down along the Monongahela into Pittsburgh, where the townspeople formally greeted them. Brackenridge gave up four barrels of whiskey for the good of the order. The militants wanted to burn the houses of Major Kirkpatrick, the letter writers, and Presley Neville. They were deterred, however, partly from fear that they would set the entire town on fire.
Rebels did eventually cross the river and burn barns owned by Major Kirkpatrick. As it turned out, Kirkpatrick had not left town as he promised, but was hiding out in the fort. The townspeople were beside themselves that he was still around, and they gathered around the fort, hoping to capture him. Presley Neville appeared before them to argue for Kirkpatrick, but realized quickly that the committee was not in a good humor. He told them that Kirkpatrick had holed up in the fort because he thought he couldn’t make it safely through town. The committee arranged for an escort, and Kirkpatrick was able to escape under cover of darkness and rain.
Benjamin Wells was not so lucky. A few days after the mustering at Braddock’s Field, Wigle and a band of rebels forced him to resign and burned his house to the ground. Wells went to Philadelphia to give witness to what had happened. Tom the Tinker started to loom large on the frontier, discouraging any cooperation with the law. Liberty poles, recalling the American Revolution, started appearing everywhere, proclaiming opposition to the whiskey tax. And looming on the horizon was the mass meeting at Parkinson’s Ferry where the four western counties would decide whether or not to wage civil war against Philadelphia.
Philadelphia Responds
Back in Philadelphia, Alexander Hamilton, feeling besieged on all fronts, was working himself to death, trying to keep the government funded and functioning. Tax collection in the West was an abysmal failure. He had listened to criticism and made practical changes to make the tax fairer, but what good had come of it? The reports from western Pennsylvania grew more dire by the day. Seven thousand men were ready to sack Pittsburgh. Elites like Brackenridge, Bradford, and Gallatin were goading the rabble into insurrection. It was anarchy, all anarchy. Hamilton, young and intense, had been pushing for military intervention for some time, but Washington moved more cautiously. He yearned for Mount Vernon, not more war. The lay of the land had now changed dramatically, however. It was time to show the country that Philadelphia was willing to use military might to enforce its will.
As always, there were complications. Washington needed to get an army across the mountains and back before winter; he couldn’t support an army in Pittsburgh, and the last thing he wanted was another Valley Forge. He needed to act quickly, but the army had to be militia. Politically, he needed the cooperation of governors to muster the militia, and he knew that Pennsylvania Governor Thomas Mifflin, a Jeffersonian and a longtime adversary, was not going to call out the militia against his own citizens unless he was convinced that every other option had been exhausted. Additionally, the Militia Act of 1792 allowed the federal government to use militia only if a Supreme Court justice certified that a state of “insurrection” existed against the government. If Washington obtained the certification, however, he could act with impunity since Congress had recessed. To go to war, he and Hamilton decided they first needed to build popular support by ostensibly seeking peace.
On August 4, 1794, Washington obtained a certification from Supreme Court Justice James Wilson that a state of insurrection existed in western Pennsylvania. He now had the legal authority to call up the militia, but he still needed to build his pol
itical case. He promptly issued a proclamation and, after reviewing recent events, declared that “many persons in the...western parts of Pennsylvania” had committed acts of “treason.” He decried the “combinations” that were “subversive” of the “just authority of government.”
Not unexpectedly, Governor Mifflin and the Pennsylvania men resisted the call for the militia. Hamilton pushed for immediate military intervention and worked to dissipate the governor’s resistance. Edmond Randolph, Washington’s secretary of state, argued that a peace commission should be sent west to negotiate. Attorney General Bradford concurred, but only as a matter of political expediency; he expected the army to march west and forcefully crush the rebellion. Washington liked the compromise of a peace commission and appointed Bradford, Pennsylvania Supreme Court Justice Jasper Yeates, and Senator James Ross, as the federal commissioners. Two state commissioners were also appointed.
Hamilton was not content to let matters simmer, however. Writing under pseudonyms in the Philadelphia newspapers, he railed against the rebels, painting them as “anarchists” bent on destroying the government. He wasn’t interested in finding a nuanced, diplomatic resolution to the western problem. It was time for the federal government to assert itself in the most formidable way possible.
On August 7, as Bradford and Yeates started their journey west, Henry Knox, the secretary of war, issued orders to muster 12,950 militiamen from four states. The farther west the commissioners went, the more bleak the situation seemed. They met John Neville and Lenox, who were still making their escape from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia. The two men advised the peace commissioners that the West was lost to the rebels. As the commissioners got even closer to Pittsburgh, they met up with the escaping Presley Neville, who reinforced the view that leaders, including Hugh Henry Brackenridge, were inciting the rebels to break with Philadelphia.
