the Susquehanna River, Logan estimated that in 1726 new settlers cleared and occupied over a hundred thousand acres of previously undeveloped land without license. The changes in the cultural landscape of the colony thus had real physical effects on its countryside.15
There was more to Logan’s thinking than maintaining stability among and preserving the power of the “weighty Quakers,” however. Logan had an intimate understanding of the Scots-Irish, for he, an Ulsterman, was one of them. Instead of sharing the Quakers’ dour assessment of the Scots-Irish, he viewed these immigrants and their new western settlements as a benefit. The Scots-Irish at Donegal, a new settlement on the banks of the Susquehanna, were a “good, sober people,” Logan wrote to William Steel, a friend and fellow official. Best of all, they were of the stock that “had so bravely defended Londonderry and Inniskillen,” a reference to a 105-day-long siege of Ulster in 1689 in which Catholics loyal to James II tried to oust Protestants supportive of William and Mary’s ascension. “Those people,” he continued, “if kindly used, will I believe, be orderly, as they have hitherto been, and easily dealt with.”16
Logan realized that these Scots-Irish settlers could help solve one problem frontiers posed to a colony that rejected militarization: they could serve as the first defenders against invasion, just as they had in Ireland. Logan made this rationale explicit in 1729 when he wrote that he decided “to plant” the Scots-Irish settlements near the Susquehanna so they could serve “as a frontier, in case of disturbance” with “Northern Indians,” a reference to unallied Indian groups in neighboring French Canada and the Ohio Valley. In that way, colonial officials created an ad hoc means to facilitate expansion that also served the geopolitical interests of the colony. Logan’s actions represented an unspoken part of the political settlement forged in 1701. Proprietary officials had the dual tasks of developing western land and providing colonists with legal and defensive protection in these new areas of settlement. The Quaker-dominated Assembly, focused as it was on the concerns of the eastern counties, was happy to outsource such responsibilities in 1701.17
But as these new settlers populated areas near Indian settlements, their interactions with their Native neighbors began to affect Indian relations with the colony, often pushing them in directions colonial officials did not want. We cannot know exactly what these settlers thought of Native Americans when they left Europe, but it is more than likely they carried across the Atlantic fear and trepidation about their soon-to-be neighbors, baggage that weighed heavily on their actions with Indians once they arrived. Reports of vicious Indian wars in other colonies and ideas of Native savagery circulated widely in Europe, affecting settlers’ perceptions and playing heavily on their imaginations before they set out. The idea of Indians as peaceful allies, although cultivated by Penn and others, was counterintuitive to settlers who heard little of such things. The insecurity and violence that people like Henry Hawkins experienced only added to their worries. Indeed, while Logan hoped they might become “a frontier in case of a disturbance” with Indians, John Burt, Henry Hawkins’s former master, proved that colonists could be the cause of a disturbance.18
“The Said Burt Is the Principal Occasion of It”
We know almost nothing about Thomas Wright except that he died on the night of September 11, 1727. His death, however, was the first in a chain of events that pushed Pennsylvania toward the brink of war and revealed the precariousness of the peace that existed in Penn’s woods.19
Things started out well for Wright on the evening of his demise. His friend and fellow trader John Burt had invited him to a trading party with some Indians who had goods to sell. The group gathered around a campfire near Burt’s home in a place called Snaketown, a short-lived trading community that never appeared on a map. Although we may not know Snaketown’s exact location, we do know that it sat on the eastern banks of the Susquehanna River about forty miles north of Conestoga. Desolate and small, Snaketown was nonetheless an important part of Pennsylvania because it connected Indian Country to the European markets in the east. Wright knew of the huge demand for such goods, and he figured that if he and Burt acquired the Indians’ wares, then they could resell them for an easy profit.20
The Indians and the colonists seemed quick friends that night. Burt brought some rum to help lubricate the transfer of goods. After a few drinks, the Indians began to dance around the fire. Wright, feeling playful, stood and joined them, singing and dancing “after their manner.” As often happens, the boozy play turned violent when “some dispute arose” between an Indian and Wright. Perhaps the Indian viewed Wright’s dance as a mocking gesture; perhaps it was. In any case, tempers flared. As the confrontation heated up, Burt egged Wright on, telling him to “knock down the Indian.” Wright grabbed one of the Indians and appeared ready to strike, but he thought better of it. Burt was not satisfied. Instead, he unleashed a volley of unexpected blows on the Indian. Burt and Wright then surveyed the wreckage, saw that they were dangerously outnumbered, and retreated to Burt’s home.21
The Indians, angry at the insult, pursued and crashed through the door. Wright tried to calm down the drunken melee. While he tried to mediate, Burt only grew more enraged. Burt threatened to kill the Indians and sought his gun. Instead of grabbing his weapon, he grabbed the chamber pot and threw, in the words of the colonial records, “dung” on the Indians. Things seemed ready to explode. Wright grew terrified and fled the scene. The Indians followed. The next morning Burt found Wright’s body in his henhouse, his head bashed in.22
It fell to John Wright, the local justice of the peace and of no apparent relation to Thomas Wright, to sort through this mess. Wright was an active Quaker who took his public service seriously, sometimes to his personal detriment. Though born into the middle class in England in 1667, his personal finances took a turn for the worse when he was in his forties because he spent more time paying attention to the Friends’ concerns than his own. Seeking a new opportunity, he left for Pennsylvania in 1714, embarking for the colonies at the unusually late age of forty-seven and settling in Chester County. He gained instant respect and served in the Assembly, but when he was sixty years old, his economic fortunes took a turn for the worse for the second time. Once again, he headed west in search of more opportunity, purchasing a large tract of land on the banks of the Susquehanna a few miles south of Snaketown. As more people settled in the area, the governor appointed the well-connected and respected Wright as an early justice of the peace. His new position required him to establish government authority and maintain good order as the colony expanded to areas that lacked both.23
When Wright learned of the murder at John Burt’s, he organized a grand jury to investigate. The jury had no question of guilt. Depositions stated that when Thomas Wright fled, “the Indians pursued him.” “It’s very certain the Indians killed Thomas Wright,” the grand jury declared. But the jurors did not think the colonists wholly blameless, adding “that the said Burt is the principal occasion of it.” Jonas Davenport, likely the same man who had beat Henry Hawkins, served on the grand jury, showing just how small and intimate governing these new communities could be. Davenport held little regard for Burt, later saying that had Burt not “provoked and abused” the Indians, then the initial dispute would have been resolved “amicably.”24
With the grand jury’s inquest complete, John Wright had to take the next unpleasant step in this already sordid affair. Since the fallout from an Indian murdering a settler could lead to more violence, Wright had to notify his superiors in Philadelphia so they could take the appropriate steps to deescalate tensions. Wright sent Jonas Davenport to Philadelphia to bring official news of the murder to the government. On the night of September 26, Davenport reached the Philadelphia home of James Logan, then the secretary of the Provincial Council, and told him of the proceedings in Snaketown. Known as a man with a ferocious intelligence and as a man ferociously loyal to the proprietor’s interests, Logan quickly realized how dangerous the events in the west could be to the colony’s stability.25
The next day Logan gathered the members of the Provincial Council together in a private
