Courtney McKinney-Whitaker • Derry Member

An Era of Presbyterian Unity

In North America, the Presbyterian Church emerged from the Great Awakening with renewed strength, as Enlightenment values nudged clergy and laypersons toward a religious life that tempered the evangelical zeal of New Light clergy and parishioners with the reason and logic valued by Old Light adherents. After roughly two decades of theological extremism, congregations and individuals moved toward moderation and reunification. (See the March 21 Derry 300 article for more background on these events.)

Historian John Fea writes, “The values of love, brotherhood, and unity gained popularity in provincial life as a means of sustaining social cohesiveness and moral order in an era of political instability, imperial war with France, and its corresponding threat to British civilization, demographic changes and ethnic strife stemming from new patterns of immigration, and of course, an acrimonious religious revival.” [1]

With so many enemies at the gates, Presbyterians perhaps subconsciously realized they could no longer afford to make enemies of each other. Moderate Presbyterians accelerated their rise through ongoing support of the College of New Jersey at Princeton (later Princeton University), where Presbyterian ministers received training in the values of both the Enlightenment and of evangelicalism. In short, a new generation of clergy learned that their religious passions (and indeed, all human emotions) must be guided by reason and logic.

Enlightenment-era Presbyterians also cemented their belief in a God of order. Since that period, anyone who has spent much time in a Presbyterian pew (and certainly at a session or presbytery meeting), has become familiar with 1 Corinthians 14:40: “Let all things be done decently and in order.”

The benefits of this renewed unity can be seen in church growth. Fea reports, “Between 1744 and 1770, nearly half of all Presbyterian congregations…constructed, renovated, or enlarged their church buildings.” [2]

Derry Church participated in this trend, raising the structure now known as “Old Derry” in 1769 under the pastorate of Reverend John Roan. That building would serve Derry for over a century, until it was ruled dangerously unstable and demolished in 1883 to make way for the Memorial Chapel. Between 1763 and 1789, Derry also acquired the various pieces of the pewter communion set still in use today.

As the sparks of revolution ignited during the 1760s and 1770s, colonists landed all over a spectrum between absolute loyalty and violent rebellion. Renewed unity in civil and religious ideals among Presbyterians had the politically significant effect of creating more unified opposition to the British crown and its agents. The role theology played in the American Revolution is often debated, but what is true is that religious dissenters frequently became political rebels. In many (though not all) cases, members of the Church of England once again faced down Presbyterians and other protestant dissenters, as they had in the religious wars of the 1600s in Great Britain and Ireland. 

Paying for War

The first battles of the American Revolution were fought at Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts on April 19, 1775 (https://www.nps.gov/mima/learn/historyculture/april-19-1775.htm). But wars seldom begin with the first shots fired. Often, they are rooted in previous conflicts, and new battles rage over old wounds.

From 1754-1763, Great Britain and France vied for control of North America in a conflict known as the French and Indian War (https://history.state.gov/milestones/1750-1775/french-indian-war). Great Britain emerged triumphant—and struggling to pay even the interest on its swollen national debt. Attempting to replenish Great Britain’s coffers, Parliament imposed various taxes on the North American colonies over the next decade.

From Parliament’s perspective, this was fair: Great Britain had protected its colonists’ lives and property from the French and their Indian allies, at great cost; now, the colonists were expected to pay it back. The new taxes rankled many, even when they didn’t lead to episodes of outright violence. As British subjects, many colonists reasoned, weren’t they entitled to British protection? They were, after all, doing the daily dirty work of empire. Now they were expected to pay the government for the privilege? Furthermore, Parliament had no right to tax them anyway, as each colony had its own perfectly legal legislative body that answered to the royal governor and the king, whereas Parliament represented only the people of Great Britain itself.

It was less than a century since the Ulster Scots held off Jacobite forces for 105 days at the Siege of Londonderry in 1689, and memories were long. In their view, the victorious protestant co-regents William III and Mary II had never shown themselves sufficiently grateful. Their successor, Mary’s younger sister, Anne, had overseen the ongoing religious discrimination that eventually impelled so many to leave for North America. Now the Stuarts’ German Protestant cousins, the Hanovers, who inherited the throne upon Anne’s death in 1714, were proving no better. [3] (See the January 25 Derry 300 article for more background on this topic.)

A New Canaan

There was another, more personal, issue at play. Now on their third violently contested frontier in as many centuries, what we might today call generational trauma may have been catching up with the Scots-Irish, whose desire for land and personal security (and the willingness to use violence to secure both) can hardly be overstated.

The Scots-Irish had no scruples about occupying land that did not belong to them, claiming large portions of the frontier by right of conquest and occupancy. In 1731, Pennsylvania secretary James Logan summarized the Scots-Irish perspective in a letter to the Penn brothers, declaring that Scots-Irish settlers believed it to be “against the Laws of God and Nature that so much Land Should lie idle while so many Christians wanted it to labour on and raise their bread.” [4]

A generation later, other Scots-Irish settlers challenged a group of pacifist Quakers, “Joshua was ordained to drive the heathen out of the land. Do you believe the scriptures?” [5]

Their interpretation of scripture and the two centuries of religious warfare at their backs gave the Scots-Irish settlers permission to take the land they needed to secure their own lives and their families’ futures. God had given Canaan over to the Israelites. Here, at last, was the New Canaan God meant for them.

Whatever permission God had given the Israelites to possess Canaan, the British government had no intention of giving the Scots-Irish similar authorization in North America. From the Scots-Irish perspective, both London and Philadelphia honored the claims of various indigenous groups over those of their fellow Christians. Accustomed by the preceding centuries of religious warfare to expect favor from those who shared their beliefs, this was a maddening blow for the Scots-Irish.

However, Great Britain always understood the need for indigenous support to remain the dominant European power in North America. As a result, throughout the late colonial period, government forces razed many unauthorized settlements, curtailing the westward movement of Scots-Irish settlers all along the Appalachian Mountains. Great Britain meant to avoid antagonizing their indigenous allies by allowing its subjects to settle on contested land, but this provided yet another reason for the Scots-Irish to turn against the government when revolution came.

The Conestoga Massacre

In December 1763, these conditions erupted in the most infamous and egregious incident involving the Scots-Irish Presbyterians in this part of Pennsylvania: the massacre of two groups of unarmed Conestoga Indians, including elderly people and young children, living under the direct protection of Pennsylvania’s proprietary government. While the individual names of most of the perpetrators cannot be known, what is certain is that a vigilante group of Scots-Irish Presbyterians now known as the Paxton Boys (they called themselves by various names) traveled down the Susquehanna Valley from Paxton Township, through the townships of Donegal and Derry, recruiting additional Scots-Irish Presbyterians on the way.

The group of about fifty included men from Cumberland, York, Berks, and Northampton Counties as well as Lancaster County, so it is impossible to say how many were members of Derry. [6] However, it is near certain that members of both Paxton and Derry Churches participated in the massacre.

John Elder, then the pastor at Paxton, held immense local power as the leader of the local Scots-Irish community and commander of the Paxton Rangers, a government-authorized frontier militia. From 1775, Elder would serve Derry in addition to Paxton. He certainly was already well-acquainted with both congregations. In the investigation that followed the massacre, the authorities in Philadelphia insisted he must have known the identities of the perpetrators. Elder blamed “some hot headed ill advised persons” and, Pilate-like, washed his hands of the situation, conveniently glossing over any role his own leadership may have played in inspiring the Paxton Boys’ actions. [7] However, his protestations of personal innocence were not enough to prevent his removal as the commander of the Paxton Rangers. Elder was not alone in his reaction, as more than a few prominent Pennsylvanians of the time seemed to think it was more than their lives were worth to try to bring the Paxton Boys to justice.

It is often necessary to provide explanation for violent acts while avoiding justification. In understanding the history of Derry Church, it is essential to note that the Scots-Irish Presbyterians living on the frontier were enraged with a fury born of terror by recent Indian attacks on settlements upriver. [8] In recent months, the Susquehanna Valley had been targeted as part of the Indian uprising named for its most famous combatant, Pontiac’s War (https://susqnha.org/riverroots-pontiacs-war-and-the-paxton-boys/), in which horrific acts of violence were perpetrated by and against both sides.

The Move Toward Revolution

On the frontier, there was no long pause in hostilities between the French and Indian War and the American Revolution. Settlers, the proprietary governments of several colonies, and various indigenous powers all battled among themselves and with each other for land and power, creating a world of truly unimaginable brutality. Not without reason, the Paxton Boys and others like them held the British government responsible for leaving them largely unprotected in a dangerous contact zone and denying them the right to possess the land they believed God had ordained for them.

In A Declaration and Remonstrance of the Distressed and Bleeding Frontier Inhabitants of the Province of Pennsylvania, apologists for the Paxton Boys wrote that they considered themselves, “grossly abused, unrighteously burdened, and made Dupes and Slaves to Indians…while at the same Time hundreds of poor distressed Families of his Majesty’s Subjects…were left to starve neglected.”[9] From this perspective, the attack on the protected Conestoga Indians in Lancaster County can be seen as an early episode of armed revolt. John Penn, grandson of Pennsylvania’s founder and then governor, “claimed the assault was a personal affront against him as an agent of the king.” [10]

As the war of words between those who defended and those who opposed the massacre heated up, Lancaster County Chief Magistrate Edward Shippen wrote, “God only knows where this Tragical affair will terminate. I fear the Consequences; yet I am hoping it will not bring on a Civil war.” [11] The Conestoga Massacre alone did not lead to the American Revolution, but there is no question that issues surrounding westward expansion were a major source of conflict and a training ground for combatants. By the time revolution came in 1775, armed violence had long been a defining feature of American life.

Bibliography

Brubaker, Jack. 2010. Massacre of the Conestogas: On the Trail of the Paxton Boys in Lancaster County. History Press.

Fea, John. “In Search of Unity: Presbyterians in the Wake of the First Great Awakening.” The Journal of Presbyterian History (1997-) 86, no. 2 (2008): 53–60.

Kenny, Kevin. 2009. Peaceable Kingdom Lost: The Paxton Boys and the Destruction of William Penn’s Holy Experiment. Oxford University Press.

[1] Fea, 56.

[2] Fea, 59.

[3] The Act of Settlement of 1701 provided for the continuation of a Protestant monarchy. Upon Anne’s death, Parliament passed over roughly fifty Catholics with better claims than George, Elector of Hanover, setting the stage for continued Jacobite uprisings throughout the first half of the 18^th century.

[4] Qtd. in Kenny, 4.

[5] Thomas Wright, qtd. in Brubaker, 23.

[6] Dauphin County was part of Lancaster County until 1785.

[7] Qtd. in Brubaker, 27.

[8] There is much debate over the terms used to refer to the indigenous people of North America. When possible, it is preferable to use the name of the specific group. In this essay, I use “Indian” to encompass several groups (when all participants cannot be known), when the specific group cannot be known, or when—as in the case of the Conestoga Indians—it is the established term.

[9] Qtd. in Brubaker, 48.

[10] Brubaker, 27

[11] Qtd. in Brubaker, 44.