Copyright © 2016
John F. Oyler
November 17, 2016
Mason Dixon Line
On another lovely Autumn
Saturday I drove to “the Original Mason-Dixon Historical Park”, in Core, West
Virginia, to participate in a short hike to the point where surveyors Charles
Mason and Jeremiah Dixon crossed Dunkard Creek for the third time, prior to
ending their monumental survey at the peak of nearby Brown’s Hill.
The park is jointly owned by
Monongalia County, West Virginia, and Greene County, Pennsylvania. This particular
event was the 249th anniversary of the termination of their survey;
there are plans to have a major festival next year to celebrate the milestone
anniversary.
Finding the Park was an
adventure. I had no difficulty going down I-79 and getting into Mt. Morris.
There are only five ways to get out of the village – it took me three false
starts to find the one that led to the Park. The effort was worthwhile.
We have written several
columns previously regarding the Mason-Dixon Line survey, but a brief summary
is still relevant. The necessity for the survey was a long-standing dispute
between the colonies of Pennsylvania and Maryland regarding the location of the
border between them.
The misunderstanding occurred
because of ambiguities in the charters originally given to the Penns and
Calverts, proprietors of the respective colonies. The Crown’s basis for
awarding charters was a map produced years earlier (1612) by John Smith, which
indicated that the latitude of the northern end of Chesapeake Bay to be forty
degrees. The current latitude is about thirty
nine and a half degrees – an error of about thirty five miles.
In 1681 King Charles I granted
a charter to William Penn granting him land described as "The said Lands to extend westwards five degrees in
longitude, to bee computed from the said Easterne Bounds”. Based on Smith’s
map, the southeastern corner of Pennsylvania (Easterne Bounds) was defined as
being the intersection of the fortieth parallel and a circular arc with its
center in New Castle, Delaware, and a radius of twelve miles. Since the fortieth parallel is much farther
than twelve miles north of New Castle, the two lines never meet.
In
fact, when a proper survey was finally made, it turned out that the fortieth
parallel actually passed through Philadelphia, the large city that Penns had
constructed, assuming it was well within their territory. The dispute between
Pennsylvania and Maryland continued for many years until the parties settled on
a compromise, an east-west line at a latitude fifteen miles south of the
southernmost building in Philadelphia.
This
line would indeed intersect the arc defining Delaware’s boundary with
Pennsylvania, which had never been correctly surveyed. Eventually the
proprietors hired Mason and Dixon to bring a kit of “leading edge” astronomical
and surveying tools from England and perform a survey that would settle the
issue permanently. They arrived on
November 15, 1763 and immediately went to work. My son John reminded me
that this journey has been commemorated by Mark Knopfler’s song “Sailing to
Philadelphia”.
Mason
was the assistant to Royal Astronomer James Bradley at the Greenwich
Observatory, a skilled astronomer. Dixon was an accomplished surveyor who had
worked with Mason before, on an aborted effort to record a transit of Venus
across the sun, in Sumatra. In addition to surveying instruments and
astronomical telescopes, their equipment included a precision chronometer based
on the clock developed by John Harrison, the heralded winner of Parliament’s
20,000 pounds prize for conquering the challenge of determining longitude.
Their
first task was to resolve confusion regarding Delaware’s boundary with
Maryland. They then precisely established the latitude of the southernmost
point in Philadelphia. Next they surveyed a line due west thirty one miles to
Embreeville, Pennsylvania, where they established an observatory and set a
reference stone, eventually dubbed “the Stargazer’s Stone”; it is still in
existence.
From
there they surveyed due south fifteen miles and established the correct
latitude of the Mason-Dixon Line (39 degrees, 43 minutes, 17.4 seconds). They
then proceeded to survey an east-west line by laying out a series of chords of
a great circle comprising ten minutes of arc (about twelve miles long)
intersecting the parallel. At the end of each chord, astronomical observations
were made to determine the true position of the parallel.
The
survey of “the West Line” began on April 5, 1765.By early October they had
surveyed about 117 miles and had passed Conococheague Creek in what is now
Franklin County, Pennsylvania. At this point they retraced their route
eastward, establishing correct boundary posts on the parallel.
Surveying
began again in early April 1766, following the same procedure. They proceeded
up and over South Mountain, North Mountain, Sideling Hill, and Great Warrior
Mountain, reaching the 165 milepost before returning east to set boundary posts
and perform some additional surveying in Delaware. A note in their journal
reports that they had passed the narrowest part of Maryland, with the Potomac
River only a mile and a half south of the parallel.
Surveying
in 1767 was delayed until July 13, mostly because of concern regarding
permission from the Iroquois to proceed west. At this point they were joined by
eleven Mohawks, three Onondagas, and interpreter Hugh Crawford. They reached
the top of Savage Mountain (Allegheny) at 168 miles and Braddock’s Road at 189
miles.
By
September they had crossed the Youghiogheny River, Cheat River, and the
Monongahela River, each of which was shallow enough to wade across. On October
9 they were advised by the leader of their Indian escort that they had reached
the limit of the area controlled by the Iroquois and that they should now turn
back, lest they anger the Shawnee and Delaware Indians who controlled the lands
to the West,
Mason
and Dixon concluded their survey at the top of Brown’s Hill, just beyond Mile
Post 233 on October 15, took astronomical readings there, and made the
necessary corrections. They then turned back eastward and concentrated on
setting boundary posts at the correct locations. The next summer the two surveyors
stayed in the colonies until September, performing research on the dimensions
of the earth on behalf of the Royal Society.
The
coordinator of the event was an enthusiastic volunteer named Peter Zapadka. He
gave a brief summary of the Mason-Dixon Survey, focusing primarily on their
activities at its western extremity, then led us on a short walk to the point
where the line crossed Dunkard Creek for the final time. We were accompanied by
Doug Wood, a Native American re-enactor portraying a Cherokee brave named
Ostenaco.
When
we reached the meadow adjacent to Dunkard Creek, Ostenaco was hailed by four
other re-enactors led by Don Robey, portraying a Delaware chief named
Tingooqua. This quickly attracted my attention, as I knew Tingooqua as Catfish,
for whom Catfish Camp and the Catfish Path were named. The additional
information I gained from this experience will be the subject of a future
column.
The
encounter with the Delawares was a simulation of a real meeting between the
Delawares and the Mason-Dixon party two hundred and forty nine years ago, a
meeting which probably contributed to the decision to terminate the survey at
Brown’s Hill.
The
250th anniversary celebration next October is a project that
deserves our support. It promises to be educational as well as entertaining,
featuring re-enactments of the surveying operation as well as their contact
with the Native Americans, demonstrations of surveying and astronomical
procedures and equipment of the time period, and the usual complement of food
and vendor booths,
All
told, it was an excellent experience in a lovely setting on a perfect Autumn
day. A friend of mine, Norm Voigt, who is a legitimate expert on the history of
surveying, had joined me at the Park. Afterwards we drove back into Mt. Morris
where we had lunch at a delightful restaurant, Rising Creek Bakery.