made--only they were far wilder, far less populous, and
inhabited by a people still prouder, more independent, more used to
being a law unto themselves than were their ancestors in old Hibernia.
When the Federal exciseman came among this border people and sought to
levy tribute, they blackened or otherwise disguised themselves and
treated him to a coat of tar and feathers, at the same time threatening
to burn his house. He resigned. Indignation meetings were held,
resolutions were passed calling on all good citizens to _disobey_ the
law, and whenever anyone ventured to express a contrary opinion, or
rented a house to a collector, he, too, was tarred and feathered. If a
prudent or ultra-conscientious individual took out a license and sought
to observe the law, he was visited by a gang of "Whiskey Boys" who
smashed the still and inflicted corporal punishment upon its owner.

Finally, warrants were issued against the lawbreakers. The attempt to
serve these writs produced an uprising. On July 16, 1794, a company of
mountain militia marched to the house of the inspector, General Neville,
to force him to give up his commission. Neville fired upon them, and, in
the skirmish that ensued, five of the attacking force were wounded and
one was killed. The next day, a regiment of 500 mountaineers, led by
one "Tom the Tinker," burned Neville's house, and forced him to flee for
his life. His guard of eleven U. S. soldiers surrendered, after losing
one killed and several wounded.

A call was then issued for a meeting of the mountain militia at the
historic Braddock's Field. On Aug. 1, a large body assembled, of whom
2,000 were armed. They marched on Pittsburgh, then a village of 1,200
souls. The townsmen, eager to conciliate and to ward off pillage,
appointed a committee to meet the mob half way. The committee, finding
that it could not induce the mountain men to go home, made a virtue of
necessity by escorting 5,400 of them into Pittsburgh town. As Fisher
says, "The town was warned by messengers, and every preparation was
made, not for defense, but to extinguish the fire of the Whiskey Boys'
thirst, which would prevent the necessity of having to extinguish the
fire they might apply to houses.... Then the work began. Every citizen
worked like a slave to carry provisions and buckets of whiskey to that
camp." Judge Brackenridge tells us that it was an expensive as well as
laborious day, and cost him personally four barrels of prime old