William Perry McGill

Sources & Further Reading

In the words of Augustus McGill, author of
The McGills, Celts, Scots, Ulsterman and American Pioneers; History, Heraldry and Tradition
(The Descendants of Patrick, The Pioneer, chapter XXVI)

William Perry McGill: His Useful Career and Melancholy End

William Perry McGill was about five feet, nine inches tall—a broad-shouldered, full chested, strong man; was well informed, self-reliant and capable, and was exceedingly systematic in the management of all his business affairs. In the erection of his buildings and putting his place under cultivation he was satisfied with nothing but the best that could be obtained, and his industry and persistency were such that he always had the best to show. His fences were the highest and most substantially built of any in the country—his outhouses, cribs, pens, coops and sheds rested on solid stone foundations and were arranged for utility and convenience as well as for appearance in the perspective.

He would tolerate no make-shifts, or slovenly, bungling work about his premises. The remotest fence corner on the place was clean and free from brush and briers and was growing the tame grasses of the fields. His livestock were of the best varieties and were always sleek and in fine condition.

For several years preceding his death (1847) his farm was easily the model farm of the French Creek valley, and notwithstanding his expensive improvements he was not in debt. It was a part of his system to pay down for what he bought, maintaining that no man needed anything until he could pay for it.

He took an active interest in public utilities, and made himself heard in relation to the same ; his manner was not persuasive, but imperative. He had no toleration whatever for a hypocrite or trickster, and bores shunned him.

Of course he was not popular with some folks, his austerity holding at bay unprincipled adventurers and men of loose morality, and people of this class slandered him and spoke disrespectfully of his ways behind his back.

But the time came when public opinion veered in his direction. Men saw the honesty and integrity of his purposes, and that while he exacted what was due him, he never wronged a living soul.

He contributed liberally and judiciously to church, school and the public highways, especially to the school, in which he took a great interest, and his well-kept premises became an object lesson in the midst of the slovenly methods of the new settlement, and men who had spoken slightingly of his ways, came around to point out his improvements to strangers, and took pride in so doing, and he justly came to be looked upon as one of the foremost men of the community.

He was ambitious and self-confident, and what ever he undertook had to be done. He owned a vicious, intractable young horse, and he determined to reduce the animal to submission under the saddle. He was not a good rider, but was a fearless one, so he mounted the colt and came riding down the avenue, leading from the barn. The horse became frantic, probably under the spur, and reared and pitched terribly. The rider was unseated and thrown directly upon his head on the hard, frozen ground, and his skull was fractured. He was not killed instantly, but lived in a demented condition for some time and then died of the exhaustion of mania caused by pressure on the brain.

Juliana, wife of William P. McGill, came to the place a young lady of education and refinement, well schooled in all the gentle accomplishments of her sex. She was very proud of her big husband and greatly admired his intellectual force and strong mental caliber, however crude they were. Her pleasing personality and gentle ways won the hearts of her new made relatives, and she was held in great esteem by all.

She came from a distinguished people, prominent in affairs. The Johnstons of Kentucky and Tennessee, notable men in the annals of war and statesmanship, were relatives of hers, and she was in frequent communication with these as well as other branches of the family. She was also connected with the Culbertsons and Colters of Pennsylvania, and her standing in social life was among the best.

When her husband's reason was dethroned, and the strong arm upon which she leaned for protection became a menace to her and her children, the ordeal was terrible. All other cares became of secondary importance, and she took her place by the side of her smitten husband and her gentle hand soothed his delirium as none other could. Sleepless vigils were hers, and during the hours of the night when the husband lay quiet on his couch, she would be found crouched down by the fireplace with a tallow dip by her side that the light might not be obtrusive, with open eyes, watching, watching, watching. The pathos of the scene cannot be written.

After the death of her husband, Juliana gathered up the shredded strands of her eventful life, and as might be expected from one of her blood and breeding, became the strong, self-reliant matron, and her home again became a place of cheerful resort for the oncoming generations.