, under the common
error of being able to regulate its heat, trembled at the extent of the
conflagration. But it had passed the limits assigned to it, and was no
longer subject to their control."

The crowning outrage was the burning of Inspector Neville's house, in
July, 1794. The inspector made his escape to Pittsburg. He and the United
States Marshal were compelled to flee from the town, and on the first of
August following, seven thousand armed men assembled at Braddock's Field
and marched from thence into Pittsburg. All these men were not hostile to
the laws and authority of the United States; many were compelled by
threats of violence to go with the majority; not a few were present to
restrain the reckless from breaking into open insurrection.

President Washington deemed that the time for action had come. He called
upon the States of New Jersey and Pennsylvania for a force of militia
sufficient to crush the insurrection, while at the same time he
proclaimed amnesty to all who should certify by their signatures their
readiness to sustain the government. The insurgents suddenly awakened to
the knowledge that they had now the whole power of the United States
against them, directed by that arm invulnerable alike to Indian,
Frenchman and Briton. Multitudes came to their senses, and signed the
pledge that saved them from punishment. Among these were many who had
committed the gravest disorders. The United States forces, however,
marched into the western counties, and the disturbed region was prostrate
under military law.

Old residents of Pittsburg have not yet forgotten the traditions of "The
Dreadful Night"--the thirteenth of November, 1794. Without a moment's
warning hundreds of citizens were arrested in Allegheny and the adjoining
counties, dragged from their beds, and hurried away, half naked, from
their frantic wives and weeping children. The arrests, in numerous
instances, were attended with every circumstance of barbarity short of
death. Prisoners were goaded, with shoeless and bleeding feet, on the
road to Pittsburg; numbers of them were tied back to back, and thrown
into a wet cellar as a place of detention. One man, whose child was
dying, came forward voluntarily when the arrests were being made, hoping
that humanity would prompt his release on a statement of his condition.
He, too, was tied, and thrown in with the rest. When he obtained his
liberty his child was dead. Among the prisoners was George Robins