Within days of their arrival at the Harlans’ house, the surveyors used the zenith sector to observe the same stars they’d recently observed at the Middle Point, collecting more of the star-related data they would need to compute the length of a degree of latitude. But in January 1767, Mason and Dixon also began gathering information of a different sort. Their new observations, made at the request of the Royal Society, would help scientists understand how — or if — gravity was affected by latitude. They used two pendulum clocks. One belonged to the proprietors and had already been used many times during the survey. The other clock had been made by John Shelton, a famous English clockmaker, and was shipped to them by Nevil Maskelyne of the Royal Society, who had used it to time the transit of Venus on Saint Helena Island. Mason and Dixon recorded the time shown on both clocks at least twice daily, noting any differences. Maskelyne also sent two thermometers made by John Bird, the man who had made the zenith sector. Twice daily, Dixon and Mason used these to record the temperature of the air inside and outside the observatory tent. All this data would help support or refute a scientific hypothesis.
Scientists of the day hypothesized that Earth’s gravitational force varied with latitude — so that, for example, the gravitational force along Pennsylvania’s latitude was different from that along Saint Helena’s latitude. They hoped the Shelton clock would help prove it. Each swing of the clock’s pendulum advanced a set of gears that in turn moved the clock’s hands. Earth’s gravity pulled on the swinging pendulum. If gravity’s force was stronger in the clock’s current location than it had been in its previous location, the pendulum’s movement would be slightly slower and the clock would lose time. If gravity’s force was lower, the pendulum would swing more freely and the clock would gain time.
The Shelton clock’s pendulum was made of brass; the proprietors’ clock had a walnut pendulum. The brass pendulum would shrink or expand minutely in response to cold or heat, which could affect the rate at which it swung.
The Shelton pendulum clock used by Mason and Dixon in their observatory in Harlan’s garden. The base and pedestal were added later.
On New Year’s Day, the outside temperature plummeted to 22° below zero Fahrenheit. Conditions inside the tent, at 9° below zero Fahrenheit, weren’t much better. The metal transit and equal altitude instrument was so cold that “the immediate touch of the Brass was like patting one’s Fingers against the points of Pins and Needles.” On January 27, three days of freezing rain coated Mason and Dixon’s world with ice. Although sunlight sparkled magically on the ice, “the limbs of the Trees broke in a surprising manner, with the weight of clear Ice upon them.” Despite dangerous falling branches, the two men faithfully recorded times and temperatures. With observations completed at the end of February, Mason packed the Shelton clock and sent it, along with all their time and temperature records, to the Royal Society in England. There, scientists would compare the data with similar records kept by Maskelyne, using the same clock, on Saint Helena. Mason and Dixon’s observations did help prove the hypothesis. It was later confirmed that gravity had indeed affected the rate of the pendulum’s speed in Pennsylvania, causing a variation from the rates observed at Saint Helena.
Even as the Shelton clock stopped ticking, time marched forward. The commissioners, surveyors, and provincial proprietors all waited impatiently for word to arrive from William Johnson and the Indians.
William Johnson was a longtime resident of the province of New York. He lived on land near Mohawk territory, spoke Mohawk, and was in a common-law marriage with Molly Brant, a Mohawk woman. At Six Nations council meetings, he dressed in Mohawk clothing and participated in ceremonial dances. Johnson understood and respected cultural boundaries that most colonists did not.
Acquiring permission for Mason and Dixon to survey beyond the colonies’ borders would require patience and diplomacy. First, Johnson insisted that “all the Chief Sackems [sic] and principal Warriors of the Six Nations” be present at the council meeting during which he would request permission. He estimated that assembling the large group at a place conveniently located and supplying them with presents would cost about five hundred pounds in New York currency (equivalent to three hundred pounds in British currency), an expense the lords proprietors of the two provinces would have to bear. Additionally, plans being developed in London regarding a different boundary line between England’s colonies and Indian territory had become mired in governmental meetings. This proposed line was completely unrelated to the West Line, but Johnson had to allay the Indians’ suspicions that Mason and Dixon’s survey was connected with the stalled boundary line under discussion in London. Furthermore, he needed to schedule the council meeting before the Indians’ hunting season began.
Delayed by unusual spring flooding, the council meeting didn’t occur until May 8 to 11, 1767. As protocol required, Johnson began by presenting strings of wampum to the Indians. Wampum presented during a council meeting was not being used as money. Instead, it signaled that a matter of importance was being discussed and considered. The three strings Johnson offered signified the beginning of a time for discussion. Johnson told the people gathered at the meeting about the commissioners and about the surveyors from England. He said, “From their desire to make you all easy in your minds, they wou’d not go any further ’till they had obtained your voluntary Consent, and procured some of your People to be present, whom they wou’d pay for their attendance.” He further said that to show their earnest truth in the matter, the commissioners had asked Johnson to lay before them a belt of wampum, which he did. A belt of wampum had even greater significance than strings. Belts were reserved for very important matters, such as matters concerning land. Johnson assured the council participants that the line being surveyed — the West Line — would not affect even the smallest bit of Indian land. Its purpose was only to settle a boundary-line dispute between the governors of Pennsylvania and Maryland. He showed them Governor Penn’s letter. After further discussion, the council consented to the governors’ request. They would select and send a group that would act as escorts for Mason and Dixon’s crew.
On June 2, an express rider brought word of the Indians’ consent to the surveyors at the Harlan home at the Brandywine. At last, Mason and Dixon could begin preparations to go west. They settled accounts with John Harlan and paid Joel Baily for repairing some instruments. On June 12, Jonathan Cope and six more instrument bearers departed for Fort Cumberland with the zenith sector; another wagon loaded with instruments soon followed. Last but not least, Mason and Dixon rehired Moses McClean, who in turn rehired many of the old crew. The surveyors also hired two guides. Unlike previous seasons, in which the surveyors had traveled across settled lands, surveying the far western line required the aid of men familiar with the area. Unpredictable rivers, steep cliffs, and boggy ground were only some of the obstacles that posed serious threats to the crew. Proceeding without guides would have been foolhardy. With the logistics well in hand, Mason and Dixon saddled up, this time for a journey into territory that was, as yet, largely unexplored by Europeans.
When Mason and Dixon arrived at Fort Cumberland on July 7, it bustled with a level of activity it hadn’t seen in a while. There, the surveyors finally met Thomas Cresap. Knowing they would be living in tents for the next few months, they gladly accepted Cresap’s invitation to spend the night at his beautiful estate near the fork of the Potomac River.
Meanwhile, Moses McClean finished final preparations. For this journey, the crew would need to haul more supplies than they had previously, when they were able to purchase provisions along the way. Wagons creaked under the weight of 657 pounds of bacon and 644 pounds of flour. Four bushels of oats for the packhorses shared a wagon bed with candles, thread, and ink powder. McClean even bought cooking pots for the Six Nations Indian escorts who would join them shortly. He employed more crewmen. Phinehas Davidson, whom they’d met the previous year while surveying near his home at mile 86, was one of the five cooks McClean hired. Li
ke many of the crew hired during that summer and autumn, Davidson remained with the survey and worked full-time through mid-November.
The survey crew was a sight to behold as it chopped, jingled, and rumbled westward. At this point, the crew numbered more than sixty-five men, with eight instrument bearers, three tent keepers, and thirty-seven axmen among them. Trailing at the end of the party, fifty-five sheep, driven by shepherd James Reid, trotted along the newly blazed trail.
On July 16, just past mile 169, escorts from the Six Nations — fourteen Mohawks and Onondagas — arrived in camp accompanied by Hugh Crawford, their interpreter. Two of them, Soceena and Hannah, were women, the only women ever mentioned as traveling with the survey party.
Unbeknownst to Mason and Dixon, the boundary commissioners had narrowly avoided chaos for the survey party. In mid-June, the Pennsylvania commissioners had received word that 100 to 130 members of the Six Nations had assembled and were preparing to join the surveyors. Frantic about the enormous cost a group that large would add to the survey’s already hefty budget (by December 1767, the survey’s cost for the year would reach 6,600 pounds, three times the cost of the 1765 season) the commissioners took immediate action. They sent an express rider to deliver a message to another Indian agent, instructing him “to make the [Indians] a small present of powder and ball, flour and other necessaries as a satisfaction for their trouble” in assembling, and “to use his utmost endeavours to persuade them to return home.” The commissioners stipulated that no more than one hundred pounds be used to purchase the presents.
Fully aware of frontier tensions, the commissioners cautioned Mason and Dixon:
As the public Peace and your own Security may greatly depend on the good Usage and kind Treatment of the Deputies [the Indian escorts], we commit them to your particular Care, and recommend it to you in the most earnest Manner not only to use them well yourselves but to be careful that they receive no Abuse or ill treatment from the Men you may employ in carrying on the said Work, and to do your utmost to protect them from, the Insults of all other persons whatsoever.
This admonishment was not only morally justified; it would also help keep the team safe.
Mason and Dixon’s 1767 letter to commissioner Benjamin Chew reporting the visit from the Lenni-Lenape, whom they referred to as Delawares
For the next month, the crew and its Mohawk and Onandaga escorts pushed westward. Near the 189-mile mark, the group crossed General Braddock’s road at the place where it swung north toward the site of Fort Duquesne. Familiar with the road’s route, the crewmen knew they were approaching land traveled and used by members of the Lenni-Lenape and Shawnee tribes, traditional enemies of the Six Nations. At a snail’s pace, growing more nervous with each step, the crew edged onward.
On August 17, at 199 miles 63 chains 68 links, tent keepers James Reid and Alexander and James McClean pitched camp. Not long afterward, thirteen Lenni-Lenape strode into camp. One of them —“the tallest man I ever saw,” according to Mason — introduced himself as the nephew of a Lenni-Lenape named Captain Black-Jacobs. Hugh Crawford spoke with them and explained what the surveyors were doing. Mason did not mention how long the visitors stayed. But he and Dixon felt the visit went well, writing to commissioner Benjamin Chew, “We are all at present Brothers in a kind and friendly Manner.” The visitors left the camp without further incident. Even so, the crew’s unease grew. Perhaps the Mohawk and Onandaga escorts felt similarly, as on Friday, August 21, two of the Mohawks “left us . . . being desirous to return to their Country; having Business (as they said) that required them at Home.”
Turning to their work, the surveyors divided the crew into two groups, one to clear the vista eastward, back toward Savage Mountain, the other to continue west. The men heading west worried that decreasing the number of their group could increase the likelihood of an attack by the Lenni-Lenape or the Shawnees.
In their free moments, Mason and Dixon swapped stories with Hugh Crawford. For nearly three decades, first as a trader and later as an officer in the French and Indian War, Crawford had traveled extensively in the lands west of the colonies. He’d visited the Ohio Territory and floated down the Mississippi River. He told the surveyors of wide rivers deep enough to accommodate large ships and sloops. He told them of rich, fertile land. He told them about Illinois, about eight hundred miles from where they were sitting, “through which you may travel 100 miles, and not find one Hill.”
By September, the total number of the crew had swelled to more than 110. Even split into two groups, the traveling men, sheep, cows, horses, and the accompanying sounds of axes chopping wood created a noisy presence in the wilderness. The uneven, rough ground forced Moses McClean to replace wagons with packhorses. Thirty-two packhorse drivers tended as many as four or five horses each. Drivers William Baker and John Carpenter signed on at the end of August and quickly adjusted to the daily routine. When it was time to move camp, they roped food, barrels, kettles, and other supplies securely onto the horses’ backs. At other times, Baker and Carpenter harnessed the horses and hauled felled trees and brush from the vista. Like all crewmen, they kept one ear cocked for warning shouts about falling trees so they could pull their horses out of harm’s way.
MASON AND DIXON hired many men while they were in America. But they weren’t the only employers looking for help. In colonial times, prospective employers placed want ads in the newspaper, just as they do today. Had you been looking for a job while the surveyors were hiring, here are some of the positions you would have seen advertised in the widely circulated Pennsylvania Gazette:
By September 7, 1767, Moses McClean needed two pages in his account book just to list the crew. Monies received were recorded on a separate, much shorter, page.
John Powel was in charge of different animals — cows! He is alternately listed in McClean’s account ledger first as “Cow Milker” and thereafter as “Milk Maid.” Due to lack of refrigeration, milk spoiled quickly. The only way the cooks could get fresh milk for cooking was by bringing cows with them. The herd eventually grew to ten.
When the crew paused along the banks of the Cheat River, Mason spent some time fishing. He was delighted when he “found plenty of fish of various sorts, and very large, particularly cat fish.” Mason also caught a lizard nearly a foot long but made no mention of what he did with it. Dixon looked at the rocks in the area, easily identifying coal, which reminded him of his experiences in the coal mine his father operated.
While Mason and Dixon noticed fish and rocks, their Indian escorts wondered just how far west the surveyors planned to go. Mistrust of the crew’s motives, as well as apprehension about encounters with enemy warriors, led to growing discontent. When two of the Mohawks heard that the surveyors intended to cross the Cheat River, they requested a meeting. Hugh Crawford and Mason and Dixon must have presented a convincing argument, because the escorts allowed the surveyors to cross the river and continue west.
Dr. Vause’s medicines were useful for treatment of common ailments, but they were of no help on September 17. At 221 miles from the Post Marked West, Mason and Dixon sent instrument bearers to fetch the zenith sector from their previous camp. Camp setup was well under way. Packhorse drivers William Baker and John Carpenter were busy tending to their horses. And then an axman’s blade bit into a tree trunk for one final blow. The tall tree leaned, slowly at first, and then faster as it toppled toward the ground. Unknowingly, Baker and Carpenter stood directly in its path. Before they could move, the heavy trunk crashed down. Both men died at once. News of the tragedy quickly spread through camp. That night, the deaths of William and John reminded everyone how dangerous their work was. Many of the men grumbled about their safety.
On September 29, at the east bank of the Monongahela River, 222 miles from the Post Marked West, a group of twenty-six crewmen confronted Mason and Dixon. The visiting Lenni-Lenape had worried them, yet they had willingly stayed with the survey. However, crossing the Monongahela River meant that they were passing in
to Lenni-Lenape and Shawnee territory. Now they were afraid. And they could see that their Indian escorts were uneasy, too. The twenty-six men flatly refused to cross the river and announced that they were quitting. Nothing Mason or Dixon said changed their minds. The surveyors had no choice but to pay the men and release them. They did persuade the fifteen remaining axmen to stay and sent word to Forts Cumberland and Redstone for replacements for the twenty-six who’d quit, if they could be found. The remaining crew crossed the Monongahela, climbed its western bank, and walked deeper into Indian Territory.
Unbeknownst to Mason and Dixon, they were being watched. About two miles from the river, three Indians — two men and a woman — approached them. As the trio was dressed almost completely in European-style clothing, the surveyors had no idea to which tribe they might belong. But the Mohawks immediately recognized them as Lenni-Lenape. Stepping forward, the leader of the Mohawk escorts greeted the visitors. He learned that the older man was Catfish, a “Chief of the Delaware Nation.” Catfish’s wife and nephew accompanied him. As custom required, the men sat and held a council, during which the Mohawk leader presented Catfish with two strings of wampum. He then explained who Mason and Dixon were, what they were doing, and why members of the Six Nations were with them. Catfish accepted the wampum and promised to bring it to the people of his town and relay what he had been told. Though the meeting was cordial, even the Mohawks and Onondagas were disquieted after Catfish left.
Boundaries Page 11