Eccentric John Mason’s Leaning Tower on Blue Hill Destroyed April 22, 1864

Travelers up and down both branches of the Susquehanna River years ago will well remember the leaning tower high up on Blue Hill, opposite Northumberland. This peculiar building hung over a precipice and viewed from the river level, looked as if a breath of air would topple it to the rocks below. It was built by John Mason, who owned a farm of ninety acres of land on the hill, and who, from his eccentricities, came to be known as the “Hermit of Blue Hill.”

The tower, which was built as an observatory, was about sixteen by eighteen feet, two stories in height and of octagonal shape. It leaned at an angle of about twenty-two degrees and for safety was clamped to the rock upon which it was built with strong iron rods. The roof was flat, and there was a railing around it for protection of those who had courage to go upon it and look down the frightful precipice.

The view from the roof of “John Mason’s Leaning Tower,” as it was called, was one of superlative grandeur. Both the North and West Branches of the Susquehanna, as well as the main stream below their confluence, the majestic hills and pretty towns of Northumberland and Sunbury could all be taken in one panoramic view. Blue Hill at this point is 301 feet in height, as determined by the engineers who laid out the railroad in after years.

The leaning tower was built very near the spot one now sees, in seeking the profile of old “Shikellamy,” which would be located about where the top of the forehead would be seen. The tower was almost destroyed by visitors who cut their initials upon everything of wood, until it was entirely covered by these characters.

John Mason built this odd-looking house in 1839. William Henry did the carpenter work. It stood there until the spring of 1864—a period of twenty-five years—when, on a Sunday afternoon, April 22, it was destroyed by a party of railroad men in a spirit of deviltry. They loosened its moorings and the curious tower rolled down the rocky precipice with a tremendous crash and landed on a raft of logs passing down stream.

Its destruction removed one of the oddest, as well as one of the most conspicuous, landmarks along the Susquehanna River.

There are several stories related of John Mason’s eccentricities and the motives which induced him to erect this leaning tower.

About the time the vandals destroyed the tower a most interesting novel was written entitled “Eros and Antiros,” which story was woven about this scene and its unusual builder. In fact, John Mason was 287the hero of the story. The author, being a personal acquaintance, may have written from a knowledge of the facts.

In the story John Mason had been disappointed in a love affair and sought this manner to remove himself from the busier world and to live and die in seclusion.

Another version of the eccentric John Mason’s leaning tower is that it was his eyrie, where he gathered together a rare collection of queer old English books—they sold at 75 cents the bushel-basketful at his sale—and here he slung his hammock and here he read his books.

That story says John Mason’s father was a Quaker, living in Philadelphia, an old acquaintance of James Jenkins, Jr., at Turtle Creek, opposite the town of Northumberland, at the base of Blue Hill, who said to him one day, speaking of his son John, that he was a restless fellow and wanted to go to sea, and that it would be the death of his mother. “Can’t thee take him out with thee?” Jenkins replied that it was a wild place and not likely to suit the taste of one who wanted to go sea-faring.

But John Mason did go up into the wilderness, engaged in the mercantile business for a time at Northumberland, then moved his stock of merchandise to the western side of the river and opened a store at Turtle Creek.

John Mason never recognized or became intimate with women. One evening at the Jenkins home, Mason came in as was his custom from the store, about 9 o’clock, and seated himself by the ample fireplace to read a book. There was a number of young people in the room, who were playing pawns and forfeits. One pretty girl was condemned in a whisper, to kiss John Mason. He was apparently paying no attention to the others, but, as she slyly approached within reaching distance, he raised the tongs between them, saying, “Not one step nearer.”

Jenkins and he went alternately to Philadelphia to buy goods. Mason always walked there and back. He lived to an extreme age and was buried on his hill-top.

So much for that story. It is generally accepted that John Mason was of English origin, born in Philadelphia, December 7, 1768, and died on the farm of Colonel Meens above the present city of Williamsport, April 25, 1849.

During his life at the Blue Hill home, it is told of him that he was a sterling athlete, and could skate to Harrisburg in half a day; that he often walked to Williamsport, always carrying an old umbrella. His eccentricities were much talked about in his day.

During the winter following his death his remains were removed by friends, on a sled and carried to the scene of his hermit life, and buried under the wide spreading branches of a chestnut tree a few yards in the rear of his leaning tower. A neat marble tombstone, properly inscribed, was erected to mark the place of his burial.

288This grave has long since been so trampled upon by curious visitors, that it was entirely obliteratedobliterated many years ago. Relic hunters so defaced the stone that it was removed to a neighboring farm house for preservation. This is all that remains by which to remember John Mason, “The Hermit of Blue Hill,” the builder of the “Leaning Tower.”