David McClure's Pennsylvania Travels

In a previous post, I shared an incident that occurred between the missionary David McClure and the famous Indian chief Logan.  I’ve been recently reading through the entirety of McClure’s diary and hope to share a few more excerpts from it in the next few posts.  This particular one interested me because of the famous people he mentions in it as well as his description of his frontier hospitality.

Aug. 18.[1772]—Crossed the Laurel hanning [Loyalhanna], a pleasant stream which runs through Ligonier, & rode to Col. Proctors. Here we found Kiahshutah, Chief of the Senecas, on his way to Philadelphia & from thence Sr. Wm. Johnson's, who, as his interpreter Simon Girty informed us, had sent for him, relative to a treaty held some time ago at the Shawaness [Shawnee] towns. He was dressed in a scarlet cloth turned up with lace, & a high gold laced hat, & made a martial appearance. He had a very sensible countenance & dignity of manners. His interpreter informed him of the business on which we were going. I asked him his opinion of it. He paused a few moments, & replied that he was afraid it would not succeed; for said he, "the Indians are a roving people, & they will not attend to your instructions; but take courage & make trial. The King of the Delawares & the warriors are now at home, & you will see them." He also mentioned that there was a minister at Kuskuskoong, on Bever [sic] Creek, & that one half of the Indians were offended with the other for hearkening to him.

From Col. Proctor's we travelled with an intention of lodging at Mr. Irwine's. We arrived a little before the setting of the Sun, at his house, but found he had removed, & the house empty. The next house was 11 Miles distant, & the road was through a wilderness. We proceeded on and were overtaken by darkness & rain, our horses frequently wandered from the path, about 11 O'Clock we passed through a cleared field, near to which Col. Bouquet fought the Indians, in a bloody battle 1764. Wandering on we came to the house of one Byerly a Dutchman. We intreated [sic] admittance, but he refused to let us in. We proceeded on & crossed Bushy Run, the banks were mud & mire, the stream up to the horses bellies, & such was the darkness that we could scarcely see the water. By good providence we got safely through & soon arrived at another Dutchman's, one Tegart. We knocked at the door & awoke one, who held a conversation with us, while the rain was pouring down. At first he declined letting us in, alleging that the house was full of indian traders from Pittsburgh &c. At last we wrought a little upon his humanity, & he unbared [sic] the door. It is strange that there should be so wide a difference in point of hospitality, between the Germans & the Scotch and Irish of this country. The former will put themselves to no trouble to oblige you, & expect a reward for every service, the latter, we found cheerfully shewing us any kindness which we needed, without any other reward, except the satisfaction of obliging a stranger. Around the dirty room of the Log house lay asleep and snoaring [sic], a number of men. No bed or bedding was to be had. We persuaded the fellow who let us in, to make up a fire, we were obliged however, to bring in the wood, & we partly dried our clothes. He also brought us two dirty blankets, & spreading them on the muddy floor, before the fire, we lay down supperless to try to sleep. But such swarms of fleas from the blankets attacked us on all quarters, that sleep refused us its oblivious soothing comforts. The Dutchman, with a beard an inch in length, sat on a block in the corner of the chimney place smoaking [sic] his pipe, & to while away the tedious hours, I asked him to relate over the battle of Col. Boquet with the Indians, not far from that place: & he told a long & blundering story, & retired leaving us to our own reflections & tormentors. We quitted our uneasy couch at dawn & got our horses. The Landlady arose & looking at us, made an apology for our coarse accommodations, & charged nothing for our lodging. We rode about 2 Miles to Mr. Lion's, & got refreshments. From thence passing near the field where Braddock was defeated, reached Elliot's. Mr. Frisbie's horse tiring, we walked most of the way from Elliots to Pittsburgh, 7 miles. ¹

Christ, not man, is King!

Dale

1)   Franklin B. Dexter, ed., Diary of David McClure (New York, NY: Knickerbocker Press, 1899), p. 42-4.