Home Page
cover of 4 Fries Rebellion
4 Fries Rebellion

4 Fries Rebellion

00:00-16:09

An examination of the Fries Rebellion of 1799, which fought back against the federal house tax.

Podcasthistorypennsylvaniataxesrebelliontreasonjohn adamsalexander hamiltonjohn fries
1
Plays
0
Downloads
0
Shares

Transcription

The podcast episode discusses the story behind a historical marker in Pennsylvania. The marker is located at the historic Red Lion Inn in Quakertown. The building has a long history and has been in operation for over 275 years. The marker commemorates the Freeze Rebellion of 1799, which was a resistance by Pennsylvania German farmers against a federal house tax. The rebellion was suppressed by soldiers and Senator John Freeze was arrested but later pardoned. The inn is also known for being haunted and its connection to the Underground Railroad. Additionally, the episode mentions the French Revolution and the Quasi-War between the United States and France, which led to the imposition of new taxes. The tax on houses based on the number of windows was seen as unfair by the farmers in Pennsylvania. Hello, history fans, and welcome to another episode of the MarkerQuest podcast. I'm your friendly neighborhood blogger, Laura Klotz, and you're joining me for a look at the story behind one of the historical markers of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission. I'm recording these episodes in roughly the same order in which I originally wrote my blog posts, although I do switch it up in a couple of places for one reason or another. What you've been hearing so far is Season 1, consisting of all the posts I wrote in 2018. Now, if you look at the corresponding blog posts, you might realize something about the markers I covered in 2018 and, to a lesser extent, 2019, which is that they're all relatively close to one another in eastern Pennsylvania. There's a simple reason for that. It's where I live. So, the markers were easier for me to find when I was still figuring out what in the world I was doing. I'm still not entirely sure what I'm doing, but as the blog continued, I was able to get a bit farther afield and cover more counties. Of course, 2020 threw a monkey wrench into that, but since lockdown ended, I've slowly been able to travel more. So, if you've ever spotted a random woman taking pictures of a historical marker in Pennsylvania, there's a fairly decent chance that it was me. You know, in almost six years of MarkerQuesting, I've actually never had anyone stop me and ask what I'm doing, which is both a relief and a disappointment. Anyway, I tell you all that in order to tell you this. This episode features the first marker I was ever able to get from Bucks County. My husband, Kevin, and I had gone to Philadelphia to celebrate his birthday at the Franklin Institute, which is one of our favorite museums. Being the emotional support silly man that he is, on the way home, he suggested that we stop somewhere so I could get a marker. We ended up in Quaker Town, which is the home of an establishment known today as McCool's at the historic Red Lion Inn. Yes, that's a mouthful, but there's a reason. The building is colloquially known as the historic Red Lion Inn, but back when it was first established in 1748, it was known as McCool's Tavern. Walter McCool was either its first or second owner. The records are a little unclear. But we do know that he was the first to actually sell alcohol in the establishment. This wasn't a terribly popular move in a heavily Quaker community. I looked it up, and Quakers aren't actually forbidden from partaking of either alcohol or tobacco, except inside their meeting houses. However, because the religion promotes simplicity and temperance, many of them choose to abstain from either or both. Nevertheless, McCool's venture seems to have worked out in the long run. The business has been in continuous operation under various names for more than 275 years. It's a beautiful building, and its owners through the years have done their best to keep the interior as close to the original appearance as possible while still meeting modern needs. The address of the historic Red Lion Inn puts it on Main Street in Quakertown, but the marker is actually around the corner at the side of the building. It reads as follows, the Freeze Rebellion of 1799, site of early challenge to federal government authority. This armed resistance by Pennsylvania German farmers to the 1798 federal house tax was suppressed by soldiers. Senator John Freeze was arrested for treason, condemned to death, and pardoned by President John Adams. Spoilers for this episode. Once I had the pictures I needed, Kevin and I went inside to have dinner and see what we could learn about the whole thing. The historic Red Lion Inn has multiple claims to fame, some of which I learned from our server Eileen, and others I learned later from their Facebook coordinator. For one thing, it's believed to be haunted, with various sightings of orbs and ghostly figures throughout the years. One ghost is said to be that of a Victorian woman, and she only appears in the ladies' restroom. I didn't encounter her myself. The inn was also connected to the Underground Railroad, and there's an old tunnel which can still be accessed through the basement. Oh, and do you remember Lassie, the famous collie of film and television? Well, the Lassie stories were based on the novel Lassie Come Home, written in the 1940s by Eric Knight, and it so happens that Mr. Knight was a Quakertown local. He used to have lunch at the inn and would bring his dog, the original Lassie, along with him. She would lie next to his table by the fireplace, and he would order her a steak, which was served to her directly on the floor. This happened so often that to this day there's a stain on the spot where she used to eat. But of course, none of those facts appear on the historical marker. What does is a bit of an uprising which had its first start in what was then called Enoch's Tavern. Like I said, the building has had many names through the centuries. The incident is known as the Freeze Rebellion, spelled like French fries, pronounced like winter weather. But it also has a number of other names. You may have heard of it as the House Tax Rebellion, or if you know anyone who speaks Pennsylvania Dutch, you might know it as Heesiswasser Ufstand. I think I'm pronouncing that correctly. That phrase literally translates as Hot Water Uprising, and it's a rather apt name, as you're going to hear. During the late 18th century, once the United States was done rebelling and had become its own country, there were three tax-related rebellions throughout the former colonies, and this was the last one. It's considered a special part of the local history in Bucks and Northampton counties because it had a lot of impact on the Pennsylvania Dutch farmers. Of course, you can only find Pennsylvania Dutch farmers in Pennsylvania Dutch country, and here we are. It could be argued that the whole thing was really France's fault. I don't think they'd appreciate that sentiment, but there's an element of truth to it. What happened was that not long after the United States held our revolution, France had their own, and as you probably remember, as part of that revolution, they guillotined King Louis XVI and his beautiful queen, Marie Antoinette. The United States happened to be rather fond of the French king and queen because they had loaned us funds for our revolution and also sent us the gallant Marquis de Lafayette. Interestingly, Pennsylvania specifically had a relationship with the French royals. Dauphin County, where our capital city of Harrisburg is situated, was named after their eldest son's title. What's more, in the northern part of the Commonwealth is a place called French Asylum, and this was established as a refuge for French nobles who were trying to escape the rebels out for their blood. A house was even planned as a residence for Marie Antoinette and her children once they had managed to get out of France, but they sadly never did. French Asylum has its own historical marker, and I'm hoping to finally see it for myself this summer. Well, when the heads of our friends rolled into baskets, the United States decided that we no longer owed France any money. After all, we had borrowed that money from the monarchs, and since they were no longer in charge or alive, there was no reason for France to expect repayment. Strangely, the French didn't take very kindly to this attitude, and so they started attacking American shipping vessels. Naturally, the Americans retaliated, and the whole thing is remembered today as the Quasi-War. It wasn't technically a war because neither side ever actually declared war on the other, but it was two years of hostilities which took place almost entirely at sea, and nobody had a very good time. War, even an undeclared war, is expensive. In related news, water is wet. In order to win at this not-exactly-a-war, Congress needed a big army and a bigger navy, but they didn't really have the means to pay for it. So in July of 1798, they decided that the perfect solution to their problem was to increase taxes. Also, the sun rises in the east. As I'm sure you can guess, what I'm saying is that some things never change. But seriously, they imposed $2 million in new taxes on real estate and slaves. To put that in perspective, that was $2 million in 1798 dollars. Adjusting for inflation, that's more than $40 million in today's money. It was the first and last tax of its kind. Oh, and something else you'll want to remember is that shortly before they pulled all these interesting new taxes out of thin air, they also passed the Alien and Sedition Acts. Among other things, these acts made it a crime to criticize the government. This is relevant. And if you think this sounds a little hypocritical after that whole American Revolution thing, I'd be inclined to agree with you. Pennsylvania being what it was, the residents didn't have too many slaves. We weren't a completely slave-free state at that point, but we came a lot closer than most of our neighbors to the south. So most of the tax money being squeezed out of Pennsylvanians had to come from assessments on their land and homes. Specifically, the houses were taxed based on the size and number of windows they had. The thing is, this was not supposed to be the case. The window count was never intended to be part of the direct tax. It seems like this was just an effort to make sure that Pennsylvania paid its appointed portion of the tax revenue. Government officials rode around on horses to visit houses and count their windows. People generally considered this to be incredibly unfair, especially since they still had fresh memories of previous heavy taxes levied against the farmers, and also of efforts to prosecute farmers who weren't able to keep up with those taxes. Many of these farmers called themselves Kirchenleute, literally church people, which they felt separated their identity as German Lutheran and German Reformed citizens. This was in contrast to the English-speaking Quakers and also the sectarian groups such as Moravians, Mennonites, and Anabaptists. Perhaps not coincidentally, many of the assessors who came to count the Kirchenleute's windows were Moravians and Quakers. This is where John Freeze comes into the story. Fifty years old and a resident of Trumbowersville in Lower Milford Township, he was an auctioneer who traveled around running auctions. As such, he was well-acquainted with many people in the area, and he agreed with their feelings that the taxes were wrong and that rebellion was needed. Now, when I first wrote my blog post, I made the observation that John Freeze himself was actually not one of the Pennsylvania Dutch, that he was in fact of Welsh descent. My source for that factoid was the book, Freeze's Rebellion, The Enduring Struggle for the American Revolution, by Paul Douglas Newman. According to Newman, John's father, Simon Freeze, was born in Wales. However, someone identifying themselves as a descendant of John Freeze left a comment saying that they had researched the family tree and he was most definitely Pennsylvania Dutch. If that's the case, then it seems likely that he was the son of a Welsh father and a Pennsylvania Dutch mother. In 1799, John began meeting with several others at Enoch's Tavern to organize their rebellion. It began with steadily increasing aggression toward the Assessors. First, the rebels harassed them. When that wasn't effective, they dumped boiling water on them, which is why the Pennsylvania Dutch term for the rebellion is the hot water uprising. Finally, the rebels actually captured several of the Assessors in Quaker Town and placed them under brief arrest at Enoch's Tavern. The Assessors were released and told to go away, never come back, and be sure to tell the government what had happened to them. Many of the Assessors resigned their posts because they felt like this wasn't worth the trouble. Others wanted to resign, but they weren't allowed because nobody was willing to take their place. In yet another completely unsurprising turn of events, the federal government was not happy about this, and they issued arrest warrants for the rebels. The first attempt took place in the borough of Mukunji, which in those days was called Millers Town, but it was prevented by a protective mob. Other arrests were successful, though, and the U.S. Marshal took his prisoners northeast to Bethlehem, where they were held at the Sun Inn. We'll be visiting that location in an upcoming episode. John Freese was not one of those who was taken. Instead, he and several other rebels marched the more than 10 miles from Quaker Town to Bethlehem to free their fellows. Interestingly, it was a completely bloodless jailbreak. Those standing guard put up virtually no resistance, and the imprisoned tax resisters were released peacefully and returned home. When this news reached President John Adams, he decided he'd finally had enough of the rebellion and ordered both federal troops and local militia to arrest the insurgents, Freese included. The President then went home to Massachusetts and left everyone else to deal with the situation. Freese and the other arrested rebels were taken to Philadelphia for trial, where some of them died in prison. Those who survived were placed on trial for treason at the order of Alexander Hamilton, who was running the Treasury at the time, and therefore had a professional interest in the taxes being paid. He wanted them tried in Philadelphia, where nobody knew them, instead of a local court where they would almost certainly have been found innocent by a jury of their neighbors. After two trials, Freese and two of his compatriots were found guilty and sentenced to be hanged. Mr. $10 bill was very annoyed when President Adams came back to work and pardoned them. By the spring of 1800, Adams had smoothed over most of the hostilities with France, so he didn't need the money so much. He therefore issued a general amnesty for all those who had rebelled against the tax and specific pardons for the three convicted ringleaders. Peace with France was finally confirmed in September of that year. It's probable that the rebellion is one of the reasons why John Adams lost his bid for re-election. The Federalist Party was mad at him for pardoning the ringleaders instead of letting them swing, and the rebels still held a grudge against him for signing off on the tax that led them to rebel in the first place. Many colonial historians believe that he would have won another term if he'd been able to take Pennsylvania in the election. But instead, out went Adams and in came Jefferson. As for John Freese, after he was released from prison, he returned to his home in Trumbowersville and to his wife Margaret and their ten children. He resumed his work as an auctioneer and died in 1818. He still has several descendants in the area today. His home is also still standing, and it has a sign identifying it as the John Freese home. A section of Pennsylvania Route 663, which passes near there, is called the John Freese Highway, and if you travel on the northeast extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, you can see a sign for it on the overpass near the Quaker Town exit. As of this recording, he's also about to be memorialized in another way. The Lower Mukunji Township Historical Society is working with a production company known as In the Wee Hours to create a film about the Freese Rebellion. A teenage student named Kayla sits down with her Uncle Steve, a history professor, and asks for his help with her school report about the rebellion. He takes her to visit many of the historic sites of the rebellion, such as McCool's in Quaker Town and the Sun Inn in Bethlehem, and helps her examine not only the rebellion but other cultural issues of the time period, like slavery and disease. She experiences visions of the event, which bring the rebellion alive both for herself and for the viewers. Oh, hi, Kashi. The cat is here. It's shaping up to be a very interesting docudrama, and you can watch the trailer and learn more about it by visiting freesemovie.com. That's... Yes! You can! That's F-R-I-E-S-M-O-V-I-E dot com. Yeah! You can also follow them on Facebook by searching for Freese Rebellion Film, and if you're in a position to assist, you can contribute to the film's budget through their Indiegogo fundraising campaign. As an obligatory disclaimer, I am in no way affiliated with the Freese Movie Project, neither is Kashi, and I'm not being paid or anything to promote them. I'm just really looking forward to the finished result. I hope you've enjoyed this episode. If you did, please subscribe to my podcast, leave a review or a comment, and tell your friends about what you learned. Next time, I'll take you to Dauphin County and tell you about a beautiful church which has connections to a certain famous chocolatier. Until then, you might like to read about my other adventures by visiting pamarkers.blogspot.com, and you can also find MarkerQuest on Facebook. Thank you so much for listening. Until next time, this is Laura Klotz with MarkerQuest, and this episode is history.

Listen Next

Other Creators